Model Example?

This morning I read an article posted by a woman who clearly has a very strong and negative opinion about getting the Victoria’s Secret swimsuit catalog*. The post was filled with images from the catalog and she tossed out numerous jabs at both the clothes and the women wearing them. After a couple paragraphs I started wondering the following:

Why is it okay for average Janes like us to say that models are too skinny, too tan, too sexy looking in their photographs but the moment someone comments on our weight, our skin tone, our facial expressions we get all up in their face like they just called the Pope an Atheist?

I can say with 100% certainly this statement is true – models are people with feelings and just as much ability to have them hurt by words tossed in their direction because the people who say them seem to think their life and career choices are somehow superior.

Let me say right now that I’m not jealous of supermodels, Victoria’s Secret models, catalogue models or models in general. In fact, I might even respect them more because I don’t have that talent. I take horrible pictures most of the time and I accept that. What I lack in visual appeal I make up for with my glorious, witty personality.

Or something like that.

Anyway, I’m not a model and I don’t know any models but I feel it’s my duty as a woman to put this out there as a rebuttal to the common misconceptions many people have about models: 

• Just because a woman is skinny doesn’t mean she doesn’t eat.
• Just because a photo appears in a magazine doesn’t mean it started out looking exactly how the finished product appears.
• Just because a woman is beautiful, sexy, can wear tiny little clothes and sell those clothes because of her look, it doesn’t mean she should be open to public ridicule for doing her job.

Sure there might be some models who have eating disorders or other issues but it isn’t just models who face these problems. Lawyers, school principals, stay at home moms could have the same body/food issues but no one seems to harass those people about their weaknesses in public.

I really started wondering why the public seems to think it’s alright to scorn someone else for having something they don’t have – money, love, a rockin’ body, sex appeal. Is it jealousy?

For me, the real issue is that I’m disappointed in myself for not getting off my lazy ass and working out, for not eating healthy enough to still have the tiny frame I used to have. My feelings and my body image have nothing to do with the woman who has somehow managed to find the time to do all that stuff.

It’s not her fault I’m overweight. It’s not her fault I have cellulite and it’s not her fault I can’t rock the swimsuit that she can (yet). It’s my fault.

Yup, I said it and I stand by my choice.

Bear in mind, I don’t harbor delusions of body where I think that if I work out all the time and stop eating I’ll suddenly grow 6+ inches in height and lose every curve or varicose vein on my body. Come on now, I’m not young and stupid (anymore). But if I stopped being lazy and started taking better care of myself I actually could rock this bathing suit:

Yes she’s beautiful, yes she sells sex through her eyes and body, and yes the scene around her is picturesque.

Now, here’s some other things to think about when you look at that picture:

► Most swimsuit photo shoots happen in winter. Yup. This woman is probably freezing her tight, tan ass off but do you see that in her face? No. Models have to rise above being totally uncomfortable in order to do their fucking job. And that ain’t easy.

► What if she’s got the flu but scheduled for a photo shoot they’re paying for her to be a part of? You think she gets a sick day? Uh, no not so much. At least, not if she wants to pay her mortgage.

► What if the only time they could book for a shoot is on her kid’s 5^th birthday? You think they’ll reschedule because she ordered up a bouncy castle? Try again.

► The chances that this woman just got 2 hours of sleep on a plane, spent 8 hours “frolicking” in ice cold water then got right back on a plane to travel 10 hours for another shoot where she has to be professional and upbeat (aka not cranky and tired) is pretty high. How much of a toll might that kind of schedule take on someone’s body?

► Speaking of body, models contort into positions no human should be able to pull off so you can see as much of the product as possible. Seriously, I dare you to get in front of a full-length mirror and try to get your body into the position in this photo. Then stay there for 4-8 hours with little time for a break.

► Oh, and don’t forget your face because getting in that position for that long is painful and you can’t let that show on your face or your photos will suck and you won’t get paid to do your job.

► Then, while you’re doing all that other stuff, don’t forget your light source must hit the right places on your face or again you’re going to look kind of weird.

► And weirdness might sell some stuff – see tortoise framed glasses, hipster music, books – but it doesn’t sell swimsuits. Sexy sells swimsuits.

So here’s my big overarching question:

As women, shouldn’t we be embracing of WHATEVER other women want to do for a living (you know, as long as it’s legal)? Are we seriously persecuting each other for being too sexy now? How fucked up of a female double-standard is that?

If I met whoever that gal is in the picture up there I’d give her a high five and thank her for taking care of herself. I’d thank her for getting her ass off her sofa, going out and using the thing she has to her best advantage to make a career for herself.

Remember how women used to not be able to do that? This woman should get a medal for doing what she loves AND getting paid for it.

And I’d thank her for pushing me to go that extra half mile on my stationary bike. Because, while I have ZERO delusions that I’d ever have the same body type or shape she has, I use the image as inspiration to better myself.

It’s hard enough for women out there so I see no reason for other women to shit all over each other just because we make choices to make the most of the gifts, skills and talents we have. Regardless of what those gifts, skills or talents happen to be.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to get back on my stationary bike to do my 5 miles this morning because I’m going to get back in shape for me so I can buy that bathing suit and love how I look in it.

Non-model flaws and all.

Image courtesy Victoria’s Secret

*Sorry I can’t seem to locate the link to this story. If you read it please feel free to share the link in the comments.

A new window opens when you click to comment. Also, I get lots of spam comments so if the post is older than 3 days, your comment will be moderated.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

by Jenn Flynn-Shon

Remember those papers we all had to write back in elementary school?  I didn’t have to write it for every class, every year, but sometimes it seemed that way.  The teacher was all but telling us that they might have partied a little too hard over their summer vacation and that’s why they came to school on day one with no real purpose or direction; without a real lesson plan.

But it was cool, none of us were all that happy about being there so our motivation level was just as low.  It didn’t even matter that we wore brand new outfits and snazzy new shoes for the occasion.  It was still school.  Was it just me or did no one want to go back to school at the end of summer?  Then right off the bat the teacher wants us to recount all the fun things we did and wanted to still be doing.  Hello, unfair tease…

Those days are gone now of course; lost to the past where responsibilities didn’t exist and all of us should have been smarter to open our eyes and relish it.  But that old “youth is wasted on the young” cliché is true.  For the most part, my only responsibilities included stuff relating to school.  Paying bills and other grown-up problems weren’t anything I had to deal with until high school.

Ah, yes.  Sometimes I miss those days of high school where I had to set myself free.  Skipping was a class I took regularly sophomore year and on.  And I was excellent at it; absolutely no doubt I got an A in that class.  There were times I spent entire days in that class, not just single class times.  Another true thing, said by Brian Setzer – “Can't learn nothin' in school they don’t teach you on the street.”

But now I’m all grown-up, most of the time, and this summer I would have all kinds of stuff to report back to the teacher.  It may have even got me to go to school to tell them – I moved into a new house, spent a bunch of money making it a better place to live, and splashed in the pool just about every day.  In other words – BORing.  No teacher enjoyed the boring papers, the ones where the kid recapped exactly what they did every day in full detail.  They wanted something they could enjoy reading.  Something more exciting.

So in the spirit of entertaining my teachers back in the old days, here’s my summer vacation recap.  And let me preface this by saying that my teachers back in the old days likely weren’t all that entertained by my stories because I hadn’t yet developed sarcasm and I never included pictures.  But as an adult now, you can all but count on me to try to rectify that problem.

Summer Isn’t Even Over, How Are You Writing Your Summer Vacation Essay Now?

Yes that’s a great question!  But for me summer ended as June came to a close.  July and August I’m spending writing (blogs, manuscript #2, guest posts, interviews, etc.) so my new school year started on July first.  That doesn’t matter though, there was plenty already packed into summer this year.  I have already:

Dealt with a mortgage closing on a short sale.

Painted 1500 square feet of walls, ceilings & cabinetry.

Moved in and set up my office (remember that, because I do…heehee).

Drained my bank account replacing broken pool equipment and buying tools.

And in reference to the tools, most of what we’ve bought so far has been for gardening and the like.  Matt is in heaven having an outdoor space to work in and I can’t wait to see how he brings the entire yard together.  One of the things that I practically insisted on though was a spot for our grill that didn’t interfere with the pool or wind up under the outdoor patio roof.

We found about 100 leftover bricks had been piled up over by the pool equipment and I knew they had to get used somewhere.  Now for those who have known me a long time you’ll recall we purchased another house, the Labor of Love, a long time ago.  Quick backstory to fully understand the brick debacle…

Right after we bought the house in Springfield we discovered the lot was just a wee bit improperly graded.  Like, about a foot below the neighbor’s backyard which was nothing more than a parking lot of asphalt.  Hey, they needed somewhere to conduct their chop shop duties so I can’t really fault them.  One day that summer it rained.  It rained like no one has ever seen rain before and our backyard turned into Niagra Falls.

Water flooded in at an alarming rate and next thing we knew it was overflowing right down our bulkhead and directly into the basement.  We had about four inches of water in our basement and a non-functioning sump pump.  Oh where was Mike Holmes when we needed him?  (Canada, yeah, I know)  The next morning, after Matt spent a healthy number of hours the night before bailing out the basement with a five gallon Home Depot Homer bucket, we went to the Depot and purchased a bunch of drainage stuff.

Back at the homestead our Saturday was spent digging out a twenty foot hand-dug trench that spanned from just under the deck out into the wooded area beside the house.  We installed a French drain type system, complete with sock over the drain pipe.  For the next handful of years that we “lived” there we never got another drop of water in our basement but we definitely didn’t install it correctly (no gravel surrounding the pipe, just dirt) so I’m sure that means at some point the thing will fail.  Sorry to whoever ended up in that place.

But you’re probably asking what all this drain digging and flooding have to do with left over bricks right?  Well, when we dug the trench we discovered, yup you guessed it, about 100 leftover bricks that were just buried in the backyard.  My guess is they were leftover after building the foundation and became part of the backfill.  After digging them all up they became my patio.

Now here’s the kicker of course, that was another thing I had no clue how to install.  Again, sorry about that.  But it sure looked good at the time.  Not that we ever put a chair out there.  Details…

It may have sloped a foot downward over a 13' run but damn it, the place was all ours and we were gonna grill!

These days however I’m a little savvy and have more time to figure out how to do it right.  Plus I can afford cable now so there’s a hell of a lot of DIY Network being watched in this place.  Again, Mike Holmes is like my personal hero.

So when I discovered the leftover bricks this time (without even having to dig a drainage ditch!) I knew just what to do and where I wanted to put them.

As you can kind of see behind the chairs and on the left there is a big patch of empty gravel space right next to the patio, garage and walkway.

So I grabbed Matt and between the 2 of us we collected the bricks then broke up the clay soil and dug out a level patch of gravel and dirt.  Not easy stuff to move and we started it on a day over 100 degrees.  Maybe not the smartest plan so we stopped early.  But yesterday we finally got rain here, the temperatures dipped into the upper seventies and we had a somewhat muggy but cloudy day for the whole day.  Our day started at Lowes picking up the tools we needed using our $10 off coupon (score!).

We dry fit the brick to decide on a pattern and to make sure we’d have enough.

We staked out the area with stakes meant for our beach shelter and ran a level line of string with some old present wrapping ribbon.  Sometimes you just use what’s on hand and wing it right?  This is the spot dug out, filed with gravel then topped with play sand and leveled so water slopes away from the walkway.

While Matt ran back to Home Depot for filler sand I laid in every single brick by hand, by feel, and gave them a little tap with the rubber mallet.  All 108 of them.  After every 6-8 bricks I tossed the level on just to ensure they were installing correctly.

Yes we went a little shy of the line all the way around, that was to accommodate for backfilling with dirt and bringing the gravel and sand right up to the edge of the patio.  Matt poured the sand and we both took turns sweeping in and tamping down to ensure all the cracks were filled to the top with no obvious gaps.  Then we brought back dirt and gravel and topped the edge bricks with sand.

We finished just as the sky was clearing out a little bit and the sun was setting into a beautiful sunset.  Most of the bricks dried out nicely overnight and I walked out to see this beautiful piece of effort this morning.

It is going to be the perfect spot to house our grill.  Just as soon as our budget allows us to go out and get one.

So this is how I spent my summer, capped off with the Fourth of July holiday and a bit of manual labor.

And just like those teachers who came to school exhausted and under motivated to get back to their jobs, I’m taking 2 Tylenol and lying down on the sofa to edit today.

Welcome to Our Home

I was talking to someone the other day, can’t remember who it was now, and I mentioned the fact that my home is my “thing”.  You know how people, men and women alike, always have something that defines them; their trademark if you will?  Whether it’s great hair, the perfect purse with every single outfit, that 1/16 inch stubble that never seems to grow, it’s that person’s signature thing.  Now I’m not talking from an inner-person standpoint here.  What I mean is the thing you notice about them physically.

For me it is definitely my home.

Many, many years ago I gave up on the possibility of always having great hair, the perfect purse to go with every outfit.  Somehow though, and you can confirm this with Matt if you like, no matter how often I shave my legs there always seems to be that 1/16 inch of stubble.  Or more.  Perfection is not possible no matter how much I want to strive for it.

So I said screw it to aiming to be the perfect person. But it just hit me this past week that the thing for me is my home.  Boom, like I’d never realized I love to have my house set up in a comfy and pleasing way.  My house isn’t exactly like something that just fell out of a magazine or anything but, if you visit, the thing I’ll hope you take away is that you were relaxed and happy while you were here.

I’m a collector of various things – shot glasses, sports memorabilia, movie related memorabilia.  Not an overabundance or anything though like those people you see on Hoarders.  I don’t even own a live cat, let alone one that died too long ago to remember.  Yeah, I just threw up in my own mouth a little bit too.  You’re welcome.

But anyway, each of those small collections kind of end up defining the spaces in my home and I’m cool with that.  Every Interior Designer on the planet will cringe at theme rooms.  Well I love them to be honest.  So I guess ID’s are cringing at my house?  Oh well, probably why I had no desire to see ID school through to the end.

So because I promised multiple times that I’d post pictures (as I was reminded recently) I guess there’s no better time than now to invite you over.

This is the kitchen before, when we first moved in.  Before the painting madness ensued and I covered just about every square inch of this place in low VOC latex.

Kitchen now.  The cabinets are just painted but we’re playing around with the idea of darker cabinets so at least this was a cheaper solution to see if we like it and can live with it until we save up to renovate the space.

We’ve got an en suite master set up which is pretty cool.  We had this in our last apartment too but they put the teeny stand up shower in that bath and the tub in the other bath plus the guest bedroom was larger there so we ended up giving up the second bath to our guests and office.  No biggie though…

Because now we’ve got separate rooms for the guests and office (as you know from my last post) and our bedroom is just perfect.  The bath attached is a nice perk.  We tore out the glass doors (yuk!) and Matt put a refresher epoxy on the surround.  I’ve been wanting to paint our bathroom this color of blue since I installed blue in a client’s bathroom before we left Massachusetts last summer.  I think it works well with the brown and we already had the shower curtain & accessories.

This is my desk set up and some of the built-in shelving for the office.  A side note for all my EcoEtsy peeps – the green boxes you see on the shelves are repurposed.  My most recent order of Ripple the Twine came inside those two boxes & then inside a shipping box.  I cut off the side flaps, painted them using the paint color we have in our guest bath, attached some self-adhesive Velcro to the front flap and now I’m using them to store stuff as well as cleaning up the look of clutter on those shelves.  The flap-top box in between them houses all my small acrylic craft paints.  As you can also see a bit of sporty goodness has started to find a home too!

And this is my little sales corner.  I don’t know if anyone will ever be at my house to buy a single copy of any of my work but I like having it on display if for no other reason than to feed my own desire to keep doing it.  When I look up and see all of my projects in one display I am happy that this is what I do for a living now.  Okay, happy is probably an understatement; elated, ecstatic, “broke but I’m happy”.  Can’t argue with that! 

It has started climbing into the triple digits on a regular basis now.  So unlike the winters here where you can be outdoors pretty much every day and all day, and also unlike winter v. summer back on the northeast coast, I’m spending the summer inside.  I figure I owe at least that much to the house, to appreciate its awesomeness now, after all the hard work to get her here.

(Sorry for the blurriness of some of the pictures, I took them with my phone and didn't have time to edit the images)

Don’t Box Me In

And I completely missed that whole Ten on Tuesday thing again yesterday because, well, I was busy doing school work and out looking for a Mark Recchi shirt. Sadly Recchi shirts are pretty much only available at the pro shop or online. Oh well, guess I’ll be heading into Boston this week.

Anyway, I don’t think (at least I hope) that Roots and Rings will mind if I post a day late, again. The thing is, you all know how much I love answering stupid questions about myself, but these are not stupid! These questions are pretty cool. And maybe one of these weeks I’ll even get them posted on the right day. I just can’t be hemmed in by silly rules.

So if your blog needs a pick me up I hope you’ll check out Roots and Rings on Tuesdays (or whenever, like me).

1. From your childhood, what do you miss most about summer vacation?

The part where I don’t have to do any school work. Don’t get me wrong, I am really excited to get my Masters but something about giving up free time in the summer months or having to completely revolve my schedule around when papers are due, at this age is downright silly. Can’t go back though and start over by going to college at 18 so if I want it I guess I’d better suck up the lack of relaxation. Or just read my books and type up my assignments on my laptop while sitting by the pool.

2. Are you going anywhere on vacation this summer?

Sort of, if you call driving across the entire country and stopping to see some friends and family along the way, vacation. Otherwise probably a couple trips to “the lake” with my sister and crew.

3. What foods do you like to barbecue?

If the question is asking what foods get BBQ sauce then pretty much only meats (but truthfully any meat at that point) but if you mean what do I like to cook on the grill the answer would be pretty much anything! Small stuff can steam up in tin foil, meats get a nice smoky flavoring and even water boils over the flame to make stuff like rice or pasta!

4. How do you celebrate the fourth of July?

This will be one of the first years in a while that I won’t get to go to see the Pops and fireworks display in Boston. I have no idea how we’ll celebrate this year but it will likely involve crashing out, hard core, and hopefully on either our new mattress (king size woo hoo!) or new sofa and watching fireworks later that evening.

5. What’s your favorite beverage to drink in the summertime?

Water. Pretty much all year it’s the drink of choice.

6. What movie are you looking forward to seeing this summer?

Hmmm…pretty likely none of them while they’re in theaters but I’ll probably add The Green Lantern to my Netflix queue because I love me some Ryan Reynolds.

7. In the car: windows down or AC?

Oh windows as much as possible. In fact putting my hair up so it doesn’t get all wonky from being wind blown is a reason I started growing it out in the first place!

8. Have you ever had a summer fling?

A girl never kisses and tells.

9. Do you wear sunscreen?

Religiously. I’m Irish and basically opaque so it’s either that or someone will try to toss me in the lobster pot!

10. Do you have any favorite summertime activities?

Beach, swim, drink, laugh, joke with friends, have a fun time, read, soak in the sunshine (hey, just because I do it with SPF 90 on doesn’t mean I don’t love it still!), go to Red Sox games, and this year hockey games too!

I wish the Bruins tons of luck in game one of the Stanley Cup finals tonight, stay out of the box and skate aggressive while Thomas tends to his net! Play that puck like you own it!

Making My Day One Townie At A Time

You’ve very likely already forgotten me, driven off into the literal sunset while hanging out of the window of the passenger side of your best friend’s, body primer Camaro from 1986. You’ve probably already thrown your sharpened breath at 100 other girls by now so I am nothing more than a distant non-memory.

But let me tell you here and now Mister Inappropriate, I will never forget you.

I went out front to soak up a few rays of sun yesterday because for the first time in months not only was the shiny ball of glorious gas lighting up my front porch, but it was also warm. Like over 85 degrees warm! That’s spring in New England, one week it’s raining and 50 the next an almost 38 year old is being cat-called in front of her house because some random guy has developed a severe case of spring fever.

Its no secret that lately I’ve been, oh how can I put it?, lax about working out. My body really isn’t what I remember from the days of my youth as a hot little petite Irish athlete. For some reason I could eat anything I wanted back in those days and never seem to put on a single ounce. I was 105 pounds from seventh grade until, oh, about six years ago. Six years ago I had pretty much just slid into my thirties and marriage.

The world seemed wide open still and I saw no reason why guys would stop finding me attractive just because I had a couple rings on a certain finger of my left hand. I mean it wasn’t as if I planned to follow through on it or anything but hell, a girl likes to know she’s still hot.

About six years ago I started to put on a few pounds. I didn’t grow morbidly obese or anything like that, but I certainly started feeling less and less comfortable in my skin. A birthday suit that was stretching a little too far for my personal comfort. But when I went up a couple cup sizes and a back size, I decided to put my foot down.

And I put that foot down right in the front door of McDonalds and decided not to give a damn! Yeah, that’s right! Say it with me now -- bring on the fried mystery meat wrapped in cardboard! Yippie!

So what if my face was breaking out constantly and my pants didn’t fit anymore. So what if I started wearing sweatpants everywhere and thick, oversized hoodies in the middle of summer. So what if my tan lines were horizontal because when I sat down in the beach chair my rolls folded over themselves creating caverns that were never to see the light of day. So what if I could hardly touch my toes anymore.

I was still funny. I was still married to a guy who told me how much he loved me no matter what. And we had gone on the journey together so it wasn’t like I was completely alone in my weight gain. We enjoyed all the finer things in life together. Namely a lot of beer and fast food because who could afford anything else?

About two years ago after we got back from our summer vacation we both looked at the pictures of ourselves and I’m pretty sure the reaction went something like

AHHHHHHH!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!! WHAT HAVE WE DONE?????

It was so time to make a change. I bought and started using my treadmill all the time and last year we both invested in P90X. I was starting to feel pretty good, fast food had all been cut out of my diet and working out became a daily routine.

Then we “graduated” from the program. Then we sold the treadmill in anticipation of our move.

And with all that over and almost ten pounds lighter what did I do? I went right out and bought a bag of Munchos, a piece of cheese cake and a big old margarita, that’s what! It was time to celebrate! Wait, celebrate you say? Then hell let’s have three margaritas! Yippie!

I hover somewhere around ten pounds heavier than I want to be everyday but I just can not seem to give up food and booze. Sorry, but I love it all. Yeah salad is awesome, sure, but give me a big plate of loaded mashed potatoes on the side of that salad plus a bacon and blue burger and we’re good to go. Oh wait, as soon as you pour me a nice, rich and chocolaty stout to accompany it all.

So the thing is I didn’t even realize that it bothered me that I was hiding under a bunch of clothes until this afternoon when it was simply way too warm outside to do that. So I tossed on my boob-log shelf bra thingie, a tee shirt covered in paint and my standard uniform of sweats and flip-flops then went out on the front porch.

As soon as I got out there I saw that a garbage truck was meandering down the street picking up house after house so there was a pretty substantial line of cars growing behind him. I pulled out my phone and texted a friend about dinner plans on Saturday and the line of traffic moved a little.

I tilted my face up to the sun and soaked in as much happiness as I possibly could. I let my lips relax into a little smile just knowing that the warm weather was here to stay and then my phone vibrated in my hand.

Next thing you know I hear a whistle. And then, as I’m opening my phone to respond to my friend I hear the words “hey gorgeous”.

Now not to sound like a conceited brat or anything but this used to happen to me a lot when I was twenty two. I was a fashionista and super cute and just one of those girls who walked down the street with my head held high all the time.

Like I said, I was twenty two. Not thirty eight with half washed hair and a muffin top spilling over the top of my sweats. Not out on my ghetto porch without a speck of makeup. Not looking like a bobcat just dragged me through the nearest bramble a few (hundred) times and left me to cook in the sun. Not looking like I only have one saggy boob.

Twenty two and cute.

I didn’t even know what to do. I was paralyzed with my head down and busily got back to the text message I was sending because A) I didn’t want to look up only to see him talking to someone else or worse B) look up at him and have him start laughing like stupid boys sometimes do.

Or C) glance over to see that he was still in his prison uniform because all I could think was ‘man it’s been a while since that guy saw a woman huh?’

But seriously it took every ounce of my body and soul not to look up, run over to his car window and lay a big old sloppy wet one full-on the little townie’s inappropriate mouth. The line of traffic moved on shortly after that and I texted Matt to “complain” about what had happened but secretly inside I was beaming like a twenty two year old.

Guess I still got it. Even if it is all in my head.

Hate Is a Strong Word, Or Is It?

Today I’m supposed to share a ‘picture of something you hate’ and it’s stressing me out to have to choose something I have that much distaste for. In all honesty I don’t know if I really hate anything. Strong dislike, irritation towards, discomfort with…sure. But hate? Hmmm…

So there are those who will ask, if I don’t have an impassioned reaction as strong as hate, then how can I have the opposite reaction of the blazing strength of love? In many ways I would have to agree with the theory that you can’t have one without the other.

Call me a middle of the road kind of gal, peace keeper, anti-boat rocker, or any other made up turn of phrase to describe someone who just enjoys life on a nice even keel and there you’ll have me.

It isn’t to say that the words ‘ooh I hate ‘blah-blah-blah!’ don’t come out of my mouth every so often. It happens. In fact I think it was just this morning that I was cursing out my current, completely disjointed, overly expectant class and I all but guarantee the word hate was used. Likely multiple times with a whole bunch of curse words attached.

But I don’t really feel that way. More like completely irritated with it. Why? Because in six days it’s over and I never have to take it again, I get my A and move on. It doesn’t stick around to poke me over and over again with its annoying, chubby finger. I never have to see it, hear about it or experience it again.

I guess that means I really feel that to actually hate something it needs to be a constant in your life. Much like love, it needs to be there all the time or at the very least a constant reminder. For example, I’d say out loud that I love “The Goonies” and with just about every single cell in my body that word love rings true. I know all the lines by heart, have the poster on my wall, etc., etc. It is something that has been in my life for a long time and warms me inside to think of it. To me that’s one expression of love (but it isn’t tomorrow’s selection so don’t think of it as a preview).

So, with that in mind I keep sitting here thinking about what makes me cold inside. What, as a constant in my life, turns my heart to stone and my veins to ice? What do I detest so vehemently that I could truthfully use the word hate to describe its very existence in my world?

No matter how long I stewed, how long I tossed around all the things, places, people, events that I have a mild distaste for, only one kept bubbling up to the surface. It made me laugh to think of it. It was so clearly obvious. All of you probably figured it out long before I did.

It’s winter.

Snowy, icy, have to wear 800 layers just to walk to the car, slush in your shoe, nowhere left to pile the white crap that falls from the sky, fuck its freezing, there aren’t enough blankets to keep warm, even turning the heat up doesn’t cut it, damn it is that shit ever ugly as hell after a couple cars drive by, there is no such thing as blue skies, sunshine comes with 50 mph gusting winds, my fucking eyeballs have frozen inside their sockets, hot chocolate ain’t even cutting through the ache in my bones, abso-fucking-lutely hate you, winter.

No shock, no surprise right? It surprised me that it took so long to come up with it, honestly. I kept thinking about how there isn’t anything in my life that I detest so fervently that it would still be in my life so I can say I hate it. But until this moment, clearly there is.

Then I stopped to think. After all the mind bending, tumbling around, attempting to come up with something that irritates me to the level of hate, if all I could come up with was winter’s snowy, icy, cold and clutching grasp then in a little less than three months from now I’ll be free of all hate in my world!

Sure Phoenix gets their own version of winter and after a few summers at 115 I’m quite sure that the 40’s and 50’s will feel quite cold. But no way on this earth will it ever look like that picture up there. And if it does there won’t be any room left to hate because the world will surely be coming to an end so I'll be enjoying my last few minutes with a whole lot of love thank you very much.

The countdown to the end of hate is on -- ten weeks and five days…

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…

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Catch up on anything you missed  30 Photos, 30 Days
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Broken Thoughts: A Tasty Thursday Treat

Wow what a week, it is spinning by once again but this time I don’t feel as if it’s out of control at all! I wish every week could be like this -- take Friday “off”, go do a ton of research taking notes and video and photos all weekend, come back Monday and share it all with everyone. Ah yes, to be a travel writer. Perhaps that should be a goal of mine; both are certainly in my top five things to do of all time.

So my friends gave me this amazing little video camera for my birthday called a Flip. It comes in a few different versions with storage capacities ranging from this 30 minute one that I have up to 120 minutes and it comes in a handful of different colors too. I love it!

I made a documentary video while we were in PA by editing down twenty-ish minutes of raw video into a little ten minute film including photos and text transition slides. I am now addicted to making videos. I’ll just try not to talk too much because I hate my voice haha. If you haven’t seen it and want to you can check out the YouTube link, it’s about Centralia.

Finally getting caught up on reading blogs, news and all kinds of other wonderful stuff after being away. Geez, that was only 3 days I can not imagine what it will be like when the week long vacation comes up this fall. Guess the laptop goes with. Maybe.

For some reason all I really wanted to do yesterday was curl up on the couch and watch TV. That is very odd because in general I am not a fan of TV at all, just Lost. Other than watching movies or playing Rock Band, our TV is almost never on especially in the summer.

Ugh, so much laundry. By the year 2000 weren’t we all supposed to be flying around in spaceships and wearing stain free, dirt and odor repellant suits? How come they feel the need to invest so much money into male enhancement drugs and nothing into the Future Suit?

My horoscope gets delivered to me everyday in my email. Most days I read it but never truly absorb it. Today it was so nice I really wanted to share.

“Your horoscope for July 30, 2009
This is a good day to spend time with your family, Jenn, as you already love to do. Try to get the chores out of the way as quickly as possible and schedule something fun for this afternoon. Maybe you would enjoy an outing to a park or the cinema. Or perhaps it would be fun to stay in and bake chocolate chip cookies. Whatever you decide, may warmth and love permeate the atmosphere and bring you closer together as you create wonderful memories.”

Aw! Now I really want some chocolate chip cookies.

There is something seriously wrong with me I think. I was just out grocery shopping and it is 86 with about 90% humidity and I’m wearing jeans. Not only that but I’m not sweating or uncomfortable at all. Maybe I was meant to live in Hawaii. Or Miami.

I hope some more thunderstorms roll through tonight, the ones this morning were too short lived.

Current love -- Garden of Eatin’ blue corn tortilla chips. How do you spell delicious? Y.U.M. of course!

Well I have about 3 posts to write for over at the other place, so once again I can relax this weekend, so I had better wrap this up now. I am kind of enjoying this front loading blogs & scheduling to post thing, it frees up so much more time than I would have thought!

OK later peeps.

Speaking of peeps, here's the rest of the crew...Read them all. Do it, seriously.
Ginger, Bridgete, KC, Kate, Bree

Who Needs Shelter?

“Good day sunlight. I’d like to say how truly bright you are. You don’t know me but I know you. See, you’re my favorite star.”

That is the opening to the song title which is being borrowed as my blog title. I am using it as my mantra now. I have to. Thanks Jason.

As the moat around my new apartment grows, I am taking some time to put together an iTunes playlist which includes only songs that have lyrics about the sun, summer, good weather or the word sun in the title. Oh summer, how I will try to encourage you to show up by playing this wonderful collection of awesomeness at top volume.

It is also imperative that I follow the old adage ‘Jesus Saves’ and depress that little icon here in the upper left corner of my Word doc every so often. Normally a little rain (OK, a lot of rain) would not have me paranoid about losing power but earlier this morning I actually heard a sizzling sound outside the window and as my head reacted so my eyes could see what it was, I turned in just enough time to watch lightning brighten up the entire sky. Simultaneously thunder clapped and a car alarm only a few houses away went off. Fuck. That one even scared me a little and I love storms. Ever since that happened the lights have been dimming every five or so minutes, even though the lightning has, for now, moved on.

So for the rest of you who are also enjoying the throes of SAD, I present you with my ultimate “kick rain’s ass” playlist! Rock it with the windows down, it’s probably time to wash the inside of your car anyway and why not take advantage of all this free water right? Now if only I could figure out where to pick up some free soap…

Sunshine Day -- The Brady Bunch

Who Loves the Sun -- Velvet Underground

Summertime -- DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince

Summer Wind -- Frank Sinatra

It’s Magic -- The Cars (“Summer. It turns me upside down. Summer, summer, summer, it’s like a merry go round.)

Ain’t No Sunshine -- Bill Withers

Black Hole Sun -- Soundgarden

Summer of ’69 -- Bryan Adams

Staring At the Sun -- The Offspring

Cruel Summer -- Bananarama

Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me -- Elton John

All for Me -- Melissa Ferrick (Standin’ on my front porch, sun in my eyes. Perfect iced coffee, smilin’ all over my insides.)

Sunshine on My Shoulder -- John Denver

You Are My Sunshine -- Elizabeth Mitchell (Might be original)

Ray of Sunshine -- Jason Mraz

Stay (Wasting Time) -- Dave Matthews Band (And it was so hot outside, oh, you could fry an egg)

Under the Boardwalk -- The Drifters (Where the sun beats down and melts the tar up on the roof)

All Summer Long -- The Beach Boys

Margaritaville -- Jimmy Buffett (This song is summer!)

Island in the Sun -- Weezer

Summer Nights -- John Travolta & Olivia Newton John

I Can See Clearly Now -- Jimmy Cliff (It’s gonna be a bright, bright, sunshiny day)

Walkin’ On Sunshine -- Katrina and the Waves

Saturday In the Park -- Chicago (I think it was the fourth of July)

Boys of Summer -- Don Henley

Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer -- Nat King Cole

Endless Summer Nights -- Richard Marx

Summer in the City -- The Lovin’ Spoonfull

Here Comes the Sun -- The Beatles

Blister in the Sun -- Violent Femmes

I could go on for about sixteen hours with everything I have in my collection within these criteria. Never mind the fact that I have a CD called ‘The Sounds of Hawaii’, tons of ukulele music and a library of other music that screams summer to me (think Brown Eyed Girl, the Beach Boys, Jimmy Buffett, etc). Funny, since I started writing this the rain has stopped and it looks like it could even get a bit bright outside.

Here is to the power of positive music! What are your favorite summer songs? I want to add them and up the chances of that season making an appearance this year.

Broken Thought Process Thursday, Er, Friday. Yeah that’s it…

Here we go again, running late to the party. Sorry to make everyone wait out in line for the past day, shivering cold and damp in this freaking rain that never seems to end in Boston. Correct me if I am wrong but it is June right? Oh and it is just nine days until summer right? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Nine days until I quit smoking for good. Ya-flipping-hoo!

A few nights ago my mom and I went to the Arlington Cultural Council Artist’s Summit here in town and holy wow Batman, what a completely productive and fantastic time! I met up with some totally groovy people and we exchanged digits (actually more like characters since no one calls anyone anymore right?) so we can try to get together and possibly help each other out with our artwork , form some collaborations, and just generally connect with other like minded cats. How great is that?

Who knows where this will lead but it has certainly sparked a renewed interest in the collaboration my mom and I are already working on and I have started hatching some good stuff for it. Plus I found out there is a social networking site just for Arlington residents called famboogle. This town has always felt so very small to me (and with every connection I make on Facebook, see who has married each other, who is hanging out now, it is further confirmed). It never occurred to me that our town might need something like this, but it is pretty new and already has over 1000 members so I guess we do.

Tomorrow we are attending a birthday party for a friend who is turning forty. We only get together at best once a year but always have such a great time when we do so I’m definitely looking forward to it.

Unfortunately we will not be partying the night away there because I had picked up tickets to go catch They Might Be Giants. I have no idea who this band is, unless Matt sneaked something on and I did not know it then I have never heard their tunes but he loves them so it should be enjoyable. Especially because it is in a small-ish venue and I somehow managed to score like fourteenth row center. I guess it was either luck or that place is going to be totally empty.

Then Sunday we help my dad and Wicked Stepmother move again. The little place they got into had just a few issues -- for example the house is still on fuses & not a circuit breaker, there are single pane windows everywhere and it is heated with oil. Outside of New England that might not sound like much but their heating bill in the winter would likely have hovered around the $800 range. Ouch. So now they are heading to a much nicer single family a little further west and at least this place is fairly modern. Put it this way, they shouldn’t have to ask each other if they are using an electronic device before turning on the toaster oven.

What I really can not believe, and get even more excited about with the passing of each moment, is that we are moving so soon too. Just sixteen days until we can officially move in. Bring it on!

Lately I have been having some seriously wacky dreams. I really can’t share the extent of them because it would take days but suffice to say I wake up every morning asking myself ‘what just happened there’? A good example would be last night’s.

I am in an outdoor market type place; it reminds me of somewhere in Europe (which is not surprising as I was just talking to someone about the architecture in Amsterdam the other night). There are columns in stone that lead up to huge open archway doors which begin long corridors that border an open courtyard. So there are shops and restaurants on one side and an open wall on the other. There are lots of people everywhere. I am with someone but never see their face. Some apparently well known artist is singing for the crowd in the middle of this courtyard area and he sits down to get eye to eye with a belly dancer in an all white costume who has moved up to the front of the little platform type stage. I see my sister across the crowd but then she disappears and the singer tries to catch my eye but I will not look their way, as if I am shy or something. Suddenly the singer disappears but I have this feeling I am supposed to go after him so I do and end up hustling through one of the arches, down a couple stairs and start quickly making my way down a corridor full of people where I see a restaurant and ask my companion why we did not eat there. I have asked everyone if they have seen the singer and all along the way they are pointing in the same direction toward a door out. (I am using their name when I ask people if they have seen him but I can not remember what I was saying so let’s just call him Fred) I head out the door and spy Fred coming back towards the building across a long parking lot, walking a bicycle. He is out of stage clothes now and wearing a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Fred and I fall in step and the person I was with is now gone. We head into this open wall room that no one else can find and he pulls out a bag of weed and proceeds to ask if I would like to smoke a joint. I say sure and we continue to talk for a few minutes but then I wake up.

I guess that one is less freaky than the one where Bruce Springstein was my opening act but I am still thinking maybe I should stop drinking that glass of wine with dinner.

If April showers bring May flowers then what does June downpour bring?