April 29th: The Royal Wedding Day

 EDIT: I should have known that coming from a fierce line of Royalists, I would be dragged out of bed at 5am by my giddy mother to watch the nuptials of Prince William to Kate Middleton. It was probably good that I had low expectations because when Kate emerged in that frothy Alexander McQueen dress I was completely blown away. Alexander McQueen has a tendency to do that I guess. Anyways, she looked completely amazing and I have nothing but positive vibes for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge!

For anyone who has been reading this blog for a long time, you will know that I have a long-standing enthusiasm for the British Royal Family. It has nothing to do with politics, mostly just an aesthetic appreciation for everything ostentatious. Seeing Queen Elizabeth II in the flesh last summer was the single greatest excitement of my adult life (tied with seeing The Pixies live), so it would be safe to assume I’m really excited about this Royal Wedding razzamatazz, right? Wrong.

Why is this? It’s because Kate Middleton is boring! I would never criticize Prince William’s choice of partner and I’m sure she’s a nice girl and all, but that’s exactly the problem. Kate always plays it safe in the wardrobe department, and literally everything she wears is the visual equivalent of Ambien. I don’t care what she wears to the wedding because its going to be ‘pretty’, and ‘classic’ and….yawn. Wait, did I just fall asleep writing that sentence? Oh God.

 Princess Diana was a rad lady with unreal charisma who really pulled out all the stops with that 25 foot train on her wedding dress. They had a horse and carriage, making her the real version Cinderella. And did I mention she was only twenty at the time of he marriage in 1981? I’m pretty sure Princess Diana was entirely responsible for my childhood aspirations of Princess-hood.

  Needless to say, I will not be staying up until 3am to watch this blathering event that will only disappoint me anyways.

Cities in Dust

This is what I mean by my new Spring style direction: "Lolita Goes to Church". The pink shirt and striped miniskirt are both really cute and feminine, but also kinda wrinkly which suggests everything is not as it initially seems. The dark hidden reality underneath a candy shell exterior, CAN YOU HANDLE IT? Wow, I really need to translate that into a theme song.

Anyways, some of you may have seen this already but I wrote an article for Shameless Magazine entitled "Batman, Pass Me My Man Repellent Spray!" It's my take on the inherent internalized misogyny of constantly referring to your clothing in the context of male sexual attraction. I'm not trying to be a "hater", just providing a critical analysis of some inherent feminist problems with the blog. Also, its kind of funny so go read it now!

Ladies First!

In the spirit of being radical, honest and celebratory – might I bring your attention to Lady Porn Day? I would not label myself as a consumer of porn, probably because I’ve never really explored the genre far enough to get past the unnerving lack of body hair and the unfortunate coupling of younger women with the kind of gross pudgy men who looked like they just wandered onto the set after auditioning for ‘America’s Lamest Dude’. However, I am certainly a Lady, and in the interest of promoting self, healthy and open sexuality for women I have decided to chronicle some of the funniest life experiences I have had regarding sex videos.

Early 2009: Watching ‘Pirates’ with a group of friends in a residence lounge my freshman year of University, fast-forwarding through all the dirty parts. Except a few times they guy with the remote control ‘accidentally’ pressed play a little two early and we caught a glimpse of Jesse Jane or whoever being, um, “penetrated” by lit candles. Ouch! Otherwise, the acting was pretty hilarious. I loved the Asian first mate called Wu Chow – the poor guy is acting in a porn film and didn’t even get any sex scenes!! I also remember repeating a quote absolutely central to the sophisticated plotline; “Loooook, there’s a body floating in the water” with the accent of a dying Valley Girl for weeks after. Actually, I still say that sometimes…

Late 2009: The same guy who was in control of the remote during Pirates introduced me to the genre of ‘pterodactyl porn’. Yes, from what I can remember it was three men dressed as prehistoric dinosaurs doing a young-looking girl who did not seem to be thrilled by the experience. Frankly, I was pretty horrified and decided I hated porn after that. I still haven’t fully recovered since then. Though when I found out a couple of my friends watched ‘Pirates 2: The Revenge of Victor Stagnetti’ when I wasn’t around, I was admittedly a little disappointed.

2011: Last week I was in a convenience store, wearing pajamas and buying munchies with my roommates. I decided to look at the movies and then noticed the existence of a sketchy looking white door near the corner of the movie section. We immediately figured it was the secret porn section and decided to go investigate. The door turned out to be a broom closet filled with cleaning supplies instead of containing titillating dirty movies like “TITanic”, among other hysterical titles. Instead, the store owners thought we were trying to steal stuff from them, so we bought our chips quickly and got the hell out of there.

After reading some of the great stories from other Lady Porn Day Stars, especially the project’s founder Rachel of Rabbit Write, I’m a little embarrassed that the extent of my porn knowledge doesn’t really go past a few mishaps involving the NSFW section of Vice Magazine and Street Carnage. I am inspired to seek out some feminist porn. I’m not exactly sure what that is, but I have the whole internet at my disposal. Let’s get to it.

First Communion

 Righty-ho, back on the bandwagon!  So I have finally managed to reunite with my precious friends and get back into the real groove of things. The past week has mainly has consisted of:
1. Listening to Gang Gang Dance and Joanna Newsom relentlessly
2. Eating candy
3. Thinking about Black Swan (and how fantastic it was)
4. Oh yeah, going to class!

Also, I was published in the most recent issue of Alternatives Journal, Canada's Environmental Magazine. They saw my commentary on Steven Meisel's photographic interpretation of the BP Oil Spill and decided to include it in the water-themed issue! You might have already read the original version, but this one has been professionally edited and makes me sound smarter and more insightful. Copies are available at Chapters or through the Alternatives website!

Red Writing Hood: Home for Christmas

The song played loudly over the external store speaker, and Katelyn stopped walking to listen. "I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams," brought tears to her eyes. It'd been eighteen months since Kevin left on his tour of duty; eighteen months without R&R, scant letters, and rare phone calls. Last year, she had wished him home for Christmas, and he was supposed to come, but then the 101st infantry was slaughtered and his troop had to take their place. The next twelve months were spent in worry. His repeated requests for R&R had been denied. This Christmas didn't look very promising, either. It would be another six months before the powers that be would even consider bringing his unit home.

She whisked the tears off her face and started walking again, faster than she was before, distancing herself from the store front music. She had made promises to him, and she intended to keep them all. So far, she had been successful. This one was proving a bit harder for her though. She was not in the holiday spirit at all. She had promised Kevin that she would decorate and put a tree up every year, whether he was there or not. Christmas had always been a big deal to Kevin, and now that they shared a son, she knew that is was even more important to him now. She blinked the last of her tears away as she opened the door to her son's daycare, punched in the security code, and planted a smile on her face.

"Mommy!!" Parker screamed, as he always did when she picked him up. His chubby arms wrapped tightly around her neck as she hugged him close to her. She looked into his big blue eyes for a moment before putting him down and helping him get ready to go. She was always amazed at how much Parker looked like Kevin, though Kevin had never had a chance to lay eyes on him. He was born two weeks after Kevin left, a rough birth that he almost did not survive. She longed for the day her two men would finally meet, and she held hope that the next time he came home would be the last time he would have to leave.
     "Shall we stop and see Santa on the way home, my big boy?" She asked him, as she placed his red knitted cap tightly on his head, leaving his golden curls sticking out from underneath. His big eyes grew larger in his excitement of seeing Santa. She took his hand and led him out of the center.

The bustle of the busy city never ceased to amaze Parker, so she insisted on walking the three blocks home to their small but comfortable apartment, never in a hurry, and always allowing him time to explore to his heart's content along the way. She took a detour today, and led Parker towards the large Marshall Fields two blocks in the opposite direction. It required they go through the park, and since it was Christmas Eve, she considered it to be a nice, though cold, diversion.

Halfway through the park, as she found herself wallowing in self-pity missing Kevin again, she felt Parker pulling at her arm. She stopped and looked down at him, then in the direction he was pointing. One of the evergreen trees in the park had been decorated with lights and ornaments, and a small sleigh was assembled before it. Santa was sitting in the sleigh, clasping the reins of the twelve reindeer in front of him. There was a large red sack in the back of the sleigh as well.
    
"Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas." The Santa spoke. His eyes sparkled brightly from beneath his round silver frames, his round cheeks were rosy, and his belly jiggled as he laughed. "It's Christmas Eve, and you should cheer up. I think I have just the thing to do it." He reached out to the evergreen tree and took a beautiful red jeweled ornament off the tree and handed it to Katelyn. "Take this ornament and make a wish on it. If you do this at precisely midnight tonight, your wish will come true." She gave him a look of disbelief but took the ornament from him and put it in her pocket. She gave Parker a moment to relish in Santa, then they went back through the park they way they had come in, headed now for home, her detour to the department store Santa forgotten as her fingers played with the satin on the ball in her pocket.

As they reached the front steps of their apartment building, Katelyn swooped Parker up into her arms. "Oh my darling. I forgot to ask you what you asked Santa for?" she said simply to him.
     "Snow." was the quiet, baby-voiced reply, just as snowflakes began to fall from the sky. He laughed as he looked up, pointing. "Snow!" He said again. She hugged him again, drinking in his baby scent, and enjoying the sound of his laughter.
"Yes, Parker, snow!! Let's hurry upstairs so we can watch it from our window!!" She smiled brightly at him. She wished that her requests were so easily met.

She made them a small but festive chicken dinner, and after a bath and a story, Parker went willingly to sleep, his excitement about Santa's expected visit fresh in his mind as he dozed off. She quietly sat on her couch, wrapped in her favorite blanket, with only the lights of the Christmas tree on, and watched the snow fall outside her window.  She grasped the bejeweled ornament in her hand, turning it around, and marveling at its beauty. She spun it softly as it dangled from her fingers, and she laughed as the stones caught the light of the tree and left little pin pricks of light dancing along the walls .  Her mind began wandering again, back to Kevin, and try as hard as she could, she couldn't stop thinking about him, and she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of days filled with memories of him.

She was abruptly awoken by the sound of sirens outside of her apartment building, and she jumped off the couch. She glanced at the clock. 11:59 the digital display said, and her fingers itched over the ornament. Though she knew it was a foolish, she began wishing, gazing into the red gemstones as if she were hypnotized by them. So mesmerized was she in her wishing that she almost didn't hear the doorbell. Her reverie broken, she drifted to the door, wondering who could be there this time of night. She look through the peep hole and noticed it was the Santa from the park.

"What do you want, and how did you know where I live?" she asked through the crack she opened with the chain lock still on.
"I'm sorry its so late, but you see, I have another package to deliver before I head back to the North Pole."
"Another package? Where is it?" Her skepticism obvious in her voice. Santa stepped back to make room for another body to step in his place.
"Kevin O'Shea reporting for R&R. Mission accomplished." came the voice. The voice that came from the mouth she knew so well from tracing it with her own lips so many times. She flung the door open and leaped into his arms.

As he carried her over the threshold, a voice called from a distance:
"Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night." Her eyes left Kevin's face long enough to look for Santa, but he was gone. She looked for the ornament, carefully laid on the table as she went to the door, and noticed that it too was gone.

Red Writing Hood: The Unlikely Hero...Blisstray Adventure

I had a scene from my NaNo novel that fit this week's prompt perfectly (Trapped!), so I edited it some, and offer it to you here today. Enjoy. It is still a work in progress, so be gentle, but critique is always welcome.

For those of you joining in the story for the first time, here is a little synopsis: The world is ending as the evil Rtharo is slowly awakening and gaining power. There is only one pure hearted individual who can stop him by taking on a quest to find the 5 ancient relics and their matching gemstones. He then has to destroy those items in order to eliminate Rtharo's chance for immortality. He is joined along the way by an unlikely band of heroes destined to join his mission to save the world.

This excerpt below begins after our heroes have successfully acquired the sapphire shield from Blisstray Castle, a frozen elven castle far out on the Vertwyn Sea...

The Unlikely Hero

With the little boat safely in the water, we turned to watch as the great castle, frozen for centuries, collapsed in on itself and fell, as silently as it had stood, and was swallowed up by the dark, churning sea. Tears escaped Gwyneth’s eyes as we saw Galain appear from out of the rubble, his arm outstretched towards us. We were too far out to be able reach him in time. I watched as he stood valiantly on the shore, the whole island collapsing behind him until he, too, was swallowed up by the sea.

With our eyes misty, and our bodies beaten, we turned our sights towards finding the elusive pirate ship that had brought us there. We had to try to get to it despite the frenzy of the angry sea. Each time we rode a high wave, one of us thought we could see its masts further out, but it continued to allude us. Petrus and Kub rowed until we were no longer in danger of getting sucked under with Blisstray Castle. We fell under a spell of silence out of respect for Galain.

 “He was a good man. The noblest of noble, the most loyal man to ever grace the Guild, after his father, he was.” Gwyneth spoke up, remembering Galain. “His lineage traces all the way back to the first king of Tierna ‘Or, their loyalty always true, their hearts always pure. There was always a D’Salient leading the Guild. My brother and I used to drive his mother crazy always asking for her freshly baked cookies. This is a sad, sad day. He was the last of his line, his only brother killed during our battle with the verhildr. Tierna ‘Or has lost greatly today.” Gwyneth bowed her head as her tears rolled freely down her face.

“His death was not in vain. He will not be forgotten. His legend will live on through the ages. I promise you.” Petrus spoke in consolation as his fingers tapped his lyre. We bowed our heads in reverence until Ionwe stood up suddenly, rocking the small dinghy.

“Look there!! It’s the ship!” he said, pointing out in the direction we had come from. Petrus and Kub took up the oars again, turning our boat around and rowing hard in an attempt to lessen the distance. The nearer we came to the ship, the worse the sea became.

The waves were rough and hard, sometimes crashing over our dinghy, though they never overturned it. The water was still tossing us about even though Blisstray had disappeared. The storm still brewed just overhead; no rain, only violent winds with thunder and streaks of lightning. Eruwe passed a rope out and told all of us to attach ourselves to it in the event that our little dinghy did get overturned. The fierceness of the waves frightened me since falling into the water meant death since I could not swim. None of us wanted to be trapped on the sea in such a small craft.

Ionwe and I took over the rowing, relieving Petrus and Kub, our freshness moving the boat along faster than before. The waves got violent for a spell, and we felt the great white shape in the water beneath us shortly before we saw it. The shape continued past us, heading in the direction of the ship, the rage of the sea moving with it. After it passed, the waves around us calmed, making only gentle splashes against the sides. We watched as the angry waters moved faster, on course with the ship.  Eruwe saw it before anyone else did.

“Tinten! Look! She’s there, at the hull of the ship!” He yelled, pointing.

Ionwe stood up and grabbed his bow, fitting an arrow swiftly in its crosshairs and releasing. We watched as it sailed over the sea, missing its target by mere inches as she went back into the water. He fit another arrow in the quiver, ready to release, but she did not appear again within aiming distance. He sighed loudly, and released his arrow, hoping the pirates would take it for the warning it was. We were close enough to watch as Tinten played with the ship, but too far away to help them.

 We watched as they fought her, and she fought back. We could hear the cannons firing, splitting one of her gigantic tentacles apart and sending bits of her flesh flying and raining down on us. We could hear the shouts of the men on deck as they engaged in battle. We could see the speckles of light from the swords they had drawn in defense against her. The sea would hurl in her anger, sending great bursts of water straight into the air like a tsunami and crashing on the deck of the ship, pitching her to and fro.

We watched helplessly as pirates went overboard into the sea, their arms swinging as they desperately sliced at the great beast, only to be caught by a tentacle and dragged under the water, never to be seen again. We shivered in horror as the rabid waves battered lifeless pirates between the planks and pieces of mast littering the water. I saw the ship start turning, and almost applauded. Perhaps Captain Castille would get the better of her yet.

Another boom from the cannon, a flurry of movement on the deck, and we heard a deafening high pitched screeching that echoed across the water. Tinten seemed to pull out and back off, disappearing into the sea. The waves around the ship were still violent yet began slowing, until they quieted and calmed.

She was gone.

 We held our breaths until we heard cheers ring out from the ship. As the dark clouds in the sky lifted, fresh arms took over the rowing and started for the ship once more. The waves bumped gently against our boat, with an occasional slap here and there. The battered pirate ship loomed larger and larger the closer we got to it. Suddenly, the sea gurgled, the waves rocked at a quicker pace, and we saw the sea begin moving, taking us further away again with waves that propelled us backwards.

Before we could sound an alarm to the pirates and the ship, Tinten rose out of the sea. She propelled herself onto the deck of the ship in a great heave, carrying a huge wall of water with her as she did. We watched with terror as her tentacles wrapped around the ship, embracing it, with her body swallowing the great deck. We gasped in shock as the wall of water came crashing down, taking Tinten and the ship in the water with it. The great wave splashed out, and we looked for some sign of the ship. There was nothing there, not even the tip of the mast could be seen. She had swallowed the ship whole, leaving no trace that it had ever existed behind.

We blinked; our minds taking a minute to grasp the situation we were left in. We were alone in a small dinghy, barely big enough for the eight of us, in the middle of the endless Vertwyn Sea, with a carnivorous sea squid beneath us. There were no other ships in sight. There were none living who knew where we had gone.

Our world was doomed.

Tell Me I Need Somebody

Thanks to youtube video tutorials, I have discovered that my new favourite hairstyle is: MILKMAID BRAIDS. After I saw them on Tavi, I had to try them and figured my hair was finally long enough. Excellent. My feelings on life, pictured below.

Anyways, I know this is a bit late but I've spent some time reflecting on the Black Friday weekend and just what it means to people etc. In commemoration of the human element of Black Friday, I wrote an article called 'On Buy Nothing Day' that you probably want to read. Earlier this year, I did a book review of Obsessive Consumption by Kate Bingaman-Burt that is also of pertinent interest.

BSOW: Pimping Out My Little Red Dress

Y'all have missed my Best Scoop of the Week, haven't you? I've missed my ice cream too!! This week, I'm getting my red dress out and going out on the town with the featured blog....

Brought to you by:

You ever get an idea, like you think, "Wouldn't it be cool if...." and then you decide you need to rope someone into doing it too because it's just a lot more fun to share your idea with a fellow blogger who you know is going to be just as excited as you?

Yes? Then you'll get how it was when I thought it'd be pretty cool to form a virtual writers club. A place where bloggers could talk about the art of writing. And then we'd have a private space where people could post their writing samples for critique. I say "we" because I floated the idea to Ericka of Alabaster Cow and she jumped right on board.

We named our blog The Red Dress Club after a post by The Bloggess. She wrote about how so many of us have a "red dress," that dream we have that we keep in the closet, or deem to frivolous, or are just too scared to take out and "wear." It's one of the most inspiring posts I've ever read.

For many of us, our red dress is our writing. Maybe we've always wanted to write a book. But we don't consider ourselves writers, or we think people would laugh if they knew our dream, or we find excuses not to do it. 

At The Red Dress Club, we like to foster discussion about different topics about writing. We talk about what's holding us back and we give a little pep talk . We also give practical information like how to write a query letter. 

We also have a weekly meme where we come up with a writing prompt Tuesdays and, on Fridays, you can post it on your personal blog and link up at TRDC. It's a fun (we hope) way to flex your writing muscles and to try new things.

Both Ericka and I have writing backgrounds. Ericka has a degree in English/creative writing and is currently working on her third manuscript. I was a professional newspaper journalist for 16 years and am considering trying a little fiction.

We welcome anyone who has an interest in writing to come join us. Hey - it's free! What do you have to lose?

Cheryl from Mommypants

 

Can I just add in here that I'm having a blast wearing my red dress? I'm making new friends, all with a common interest--writing. I mean that's why we are all here in the first place right? 

Happy Weekend!!

A Post of Epic Proportions: Club Kids

It all started when I was 16. I was in a friend's basement doing questionable things, and watching a movie called Party Monster. This movie was my first introduction to that crazy period of New York City nightlife during the 1990s and is the 'based on a true story' account of the downfall of Michael Alig, one of the scene's most important 'club kids'.

Last week I picked up the book 'Clubland: The Fabulous Rise and Murderous Fall of Club Culture' by Frank Owen from the public library. Though I didn't really like the book very much, as it mostly focused on the 'murderous fall' bits, it did re-spark my interests in club kids and all their outrageousness. It's really fun to watch these kids in bizarre get-ups parade around on daytime television, shocking the hell out of Middle America with their perceived narcissism. The club kids claimed their lifestyle was all about having fun, and who can blame them? I really appreciate their dedication to confronting cultural norms by looking as weird as possible.


But watching their appearances on Phil Donahue and Joan Rivers wasn't quite enough. In order to satisfy my craving for more club kid shenanigans, I had to go back to where it all began: Party Monster. I took about a zillion screen shots for your viewing pleasure. Macaulay Culkin and Seth Green can really rock the 'outrageous homo' look with plenty of sequins to spare.









I love how they featured a parody of all the talk shows that the real club kids appeared on.


Not to mention the movie featured everybody's favourite, CHLOE SEVIGNY.




I must start dressing like this on a daily basis.

I got a broken face.

The blistering heat that other bloggers have spent months complaining about already has finally reached my little corner of the world, and I've spent the past couple of days wearing as little clothing and drinking as much liquid as possible. I'm so thankful that it's only this hot for about a month each year - otherwise I would melt like the Wicked Witch of the West. So, does anyone remember a couple of years ago when these slipper/sandal/shoe thangs were the trendiest thing since sliced bread? They were about $2 a piece and came in every colour under the (too hot) sun. I found this red pair buried at the bottom of my shoe pile whilst trying to beat the heat and avoid wearing dreaded flip-flops. Even though the quality is nonexistent, I still find the sequin flowers and beaded leaves sort of charming. I'm going to wear these until they're broken, which shouldn't take too long.

The Mysteries of Harris Burdick

I was about 8 years old when I first heard about the mystery of Harris Burdick. Legend has it that Burdick was interested in having some of his short stories published, so he met with a Publisher to give him the illustrations with captions from his stories in hopes the Publisher would be interested. After giving the illustrations a look, the Publisher tried to get a hold of Burdick for more information, but he never heard back because Burdick had disappeared without a trace!

This mysterious story captured every bit of my young imagination at the time, especially since the teacher had assigned us to make up our own stories based on the original Harris Burdick illustrations and captions. Even after all these years the story still holds its original appeal for me. All of the illustrations have an ethereal yet dark quality about them and leave me wanting to know more.

MR. LINDEN'S LIBRARY
"He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late."

THE SEVEN CHAIRS
"The fifth one ended up in France."

THE THIRD-FLOOR BEDROOM
"It all began when someone left the window open."

JUST DESERT
"She lowered the knife and it grew even brighter."

If I remember correctly, I chose to write my story on the wallpaper bird about to fly out the bedroom window. You can see more Harris Burdick illustrations along with a better version of the story right here.