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Pissing In The Wind During COVID-19

farm womenIt’s a well known fact that when in distress, we revert to our fist language. It brings us comfort, and takes less energy than coming up with words we’re not so familiar with.

My first language is English, but the colloquialisms that I use now are far from my mother tongue. I was raised among proud, country folk and hard asses.

Living in the city has influenced my language to acquiesce to more professional terms such as; Multi-disciplinary, facilitate…with an understanding of complex…blah, blah, blah

Recently, I surprised myself by telling someone that they, “May as well just piss in the wind.”

Not only had I said it, but I said it with passion.  And then I caught myself saying it again.

You may as well just piss in the wind.

You can picture it can’t you, this pissing in the wind?

It’s a satisfying string of  words lending itself to a powerful visual;  Letting it all hang out, and then having it all blow back in your face.

I’m sure it’s the way a lot of you have been feeling lately in the face of COVID19, (like you’re pissing in the wind) and the mostly inadequate measures that ‘we’ have taken to protect our communities. Pissing in the wind.

Crazier than a shithouse rat.

Dumb as a stump.

As useless as tits on a bull.

God willing and the creek don’t rise.

You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

Sweatin’ like a sinner in church.

If it’d been a snake, it would’a bit ya.

These are just a few of the finer phrases that were familiar to my upbringing in a small village on the north shore of Lake Erie.

Lately I’ve been stressed more than usual. I’m sure you’re feeling it too. Our world is in flux, and there is little, if any steady footing.

These little sayings are homey, and can be comforting. They’re power-packed nuggets of wisdom that colour our conversations and paint a vivid picture. It feels good to fall back on something solid; my first-language.

As we continue to exist in an environment of the unknown, I know that others will return to their first language as well. I can only hope it’s as soothing and entertaining as my own, because if we don’t all stay the hell home, the health authorities ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie.

Wishing you and those whom you love, good health.

 

 

 

 

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Life After 40: Finding the Face of the Invisible Woman

 

Saturday morning I spent two hours researching wrinkle serum. Yes, serum, not cream, because at the ripe old age of just over 45, the skin on my face that once was perfect, is now taunting me with oiliness.

As usual, upon waking, I brushed my teeth and washed my face, applying a store-brand moisturizer  before I padded down the stairs on my freshly pedicured tootsies, to fill up on coffee. It was time to research anti-aging serums. I came across the Clinique Canada site which offered a skin assessment. 

I flipped the camera on my phone so I could see a reflection of my freshly scrubbed face. Gee-Sus!!! When the hell did I finish growing grandma’s jowls  on my face??? The little scanner slid across my reflection, and I was horrified at how much I looked like a sadder version of Cathy Bates in Misery.

A wise woman once told me that at a certain age, I would become invisible. After my little analysis, I was almost grateful to slide under the radar as someone unworthy of notice.

Invisible; I was shocked when it happened. Not because I didn’t believe it, but because I had always been able to stand out in a crowd.  I’ve never considered myself a beauty, but perhaps a natural beauty, with an easy laugh, and ability to gatsby-socialize and bring a smile to almost anyone’s face in any circumstance. I was a sure thing at a party, and in the sack. I was cute. I was confident. I was under 40.

You have an easy smile…

You have beautiful skin. ..

Is that your natural eye colour or are those contacts?…

These were an assortment of daily compliments that were gifted to me during the course of my day-to-day interactions. Eventually these compliments have dwindled to become merely a distant memory.

That’s how it happened. Not all of a sudden, but gradually. It was like putting on your favourite jeans one day, and not being able to button them up. I’d be lying if I told you it didn’t rock me. It was like trying to keep my balance during an earthquake. It didn’t matter what I tried to cling to in my repetoire of feel-good-physical-traits, nothing felt stable.

The older women were correct; the crepe-skinned-chain-smoking-60-something-one-time-beach-bunny who advised me to make my memories while I was young, my mumster who first presented the invisibility theory, and my granola-crunching senior advisors who cheered on my loose-morals and stiletto heeled antics from the closed-door sidelines of their lonely Friday nights.

Wisely, I did indulge in all of the sensual pleasures of youth, and I’m still a bit of a lush when it comes to wine, women and song. I am also however more aware of the pressure that we face as women to never age (on the outside).

Unless you’ve made a career of your beauty, or were privileged enough to have role models who convinced you to establish self-care habits  at an early age,  you likely have found yourself staring back at one hell of a woman whom you fear is trapped, forever under  jowls and deep wtf wrinkles between her brows.

Today I smiled when a friend of mine who just rounded the corner on 40 commented on the not-so-easy-to-transform, changes in her body. This, the same person who made me cry when she told me I looked old, just as I was feeling old for the very first time in my life.  I told her I’d just been out buying skin care products….and an absurd amount of red wine…

I shared with her some of the things I have found that bring a smile to my over-forty-face. They help to make me glow on the outside the same way I still feel on the inside;

 

  1. Dr. Jart Vital Hydra Solution Mask

dr jart

 

2. Clinique – All About Eyes

all about eyes

3. Hope’s End Red Blend

hopesend

4. Revlon Super Lustrous in Love That Pink

love that pink

5. Neutrogena Rapid Wrinkle Repair

wrinkle repair

 

6. Life Brand Bubbling Face Mask

This comes in new, white packaging now.

bubbling face mask

 

 

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Galentine’s Day

galentine-s-gifts-1575491888I don’t even know when it is? Is it separate from Valentine’s Day, or is it on the same day for particularly empowered femmes? I don’t know…

For me, I try to celebrate what I think is the gist of  “Galentine’s Day” all the time.  I love getting together with my friends to do stuff that doesn’t involve action films starring old men, pvr’d sports, or more testosterone fueled shit like that.

To be honest, being a mother makes getting the gals together tough. We’re beleaguered as much by relationships, motherhood and career as we are by the wacky disproportionate media we’re fed about it all.

According to social media, television, movies, magazines, and people with money, I’m supposed to be unhappy about the way I look, tired of my spouse, unable to control my spoiled children, and be on-call 24-7 at a career that keeps me grinding on the treadmill economy which we’ve all subscribed to.

Urban Dictionary:
Lucy: I don’t have a date for valentines. You wanna be my galentine?
Louise: sure

I’m nothing if not a rebel, and although my waist disappeared about 5 years ago, I don’t feel unsatisfied with my life. Yes, I would like to be independently wealthy, not have to go to work, and have a personal trainer who showed up every morning with a tasty, uber-healthy smoothie and a rippling, masculine 6-pack. Alas, I have toast, and a bluetooth headset to take with me on my walks.

When it comes to Galentine’s, I do feel like women don’t make enough quality time for one another. Hell, we find it hard to take time for a half-hour bath, let alone a weekend away, or regular coffee dates.

As always, I try to make Galentine’s a thing all year long, but on this Galentine’s day (because I have time while the oven is on self-clean and I’m afraid to go very far in case the house goes up in flames), I want to send out my best wishes for all of the gals out there.

May you be surrounded by your gal-friends throughout your lifetime.

 

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5 Ways Not to Be a Weirdo

strangeI guarantee you that someone, somewhere, thinks you’re a weirdo.

“Why the hell are people so freaking weird?!”I ask myself this question a lot. Like, a-lot-a-lot.

Anyone who has to get up, go to work, or interact with another human being during the day thinks the same way.

Mostly weirdness comes into play if you are an ignorant stunner when you’re dealing with  people. Not a stunner like the Hope Diamond. Just stunned. I suspect most weirdos are so ignorant of their surroundings that they think they’re perfectly normal.

Most people who make me think they’re from another planet are the ones who are just on the edge of rude-enough-to-make-me-do-a-double-take, but not so rude as to warrant one of my very calm, but forward diplomatic chats.

Recently, with eyeballs as big as a saucer after walking away from a real weirdo, I realized that most weirdos are likely just victims of our time. Most  have unreal expectations about what is humanly possible based on our instant-access-to-information world. Either they expect you to snap your fingers and so-mote-it-be, or they don’t realize that you can do things as quickly as you can.

Most annoying of course are the people who think you can pull bunnies, doves and miracles out of your ass. Kind of like someone in line for an extra-hot-non-fat-no-whip-double-shot-venti-with-a-carmel-pump getting frustrated with the wait at their favourite coffee shop. Some things obviously take time. Use your new millenium meditation skills and deal with it weirdo. Try to actually think something through.

Now more than ever we live in a world where people have no concept of face-to-face etiquette. As consumers we feel entitled, and as workers we feel stretched. Nobody’s happy.  Weird.

5 Ways To Not Be A Weirdo

  1. When attending appointments, dates or get-togethers, please try to adhere to the same time-space continuum as everyone else in your time zone. In plain-speak- show up on time.
  2. Don’t carry food and drink with you everywhere. This goes for parents with kids. You know they need to eat, it’s not a new development in our evolution.  Plan for it. You know you have to eat. Plan for it. And no, you will not die if you don’t have a paper cup filled with joe or bottle of water attached to your hand.
  3. Be aware of personal space and appropriate length of eye contact. As a matter of fact, make sure you also blink. Non-blinkers are ultra-weird.
  4. Practice the art of conversation, especially the listening portion. Making someone repeat themselves for any other reason than a hearing issue is just strange. Get out of your own little weirdo, narcissistic head and l.i.s.t.e.n. and then act appropriately.
  5. Which brings me to magic #5….be aware and considerate of your surroundings…..weirdo.

 

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Digital Detox: How to Get Results in 2020

Social media sites aren’t so social when you try to cut back.  Apparently you aren’t allowed to be a digital introvert. After ‘unfollowing’ a couple hundred accounts that I had spontaneously followed throughout the years on Instagram, it blocked me from unfollowing more accounts. We’ll see how long my virtual time-out-in-the-thinking-chair lasts.

Withdrawing from unhealthy habits always inspires a quick, heavy-handed jerk on the hook that snagged you in the first place. Sometimes coming clean requires a little messy work and involves a painful withdrawal.

Replace Mindless Media With:

A Beautiful Daily Journal

A Free Course E-Learning Course

Meditation Time & Daily Reflection

New Ways to Nourish Your Body While You Strive For  Positive Change

In lieu of spending mindless hours scrolling and posting navel-gazing pictures of my feet up on a footstool whilst holding a hot cup of coffee, I am turning to more satisfying media in 2020.  For instance, a quick read of a recent article in FastCompany  about how to push through and accomplish the tough goals you set in 2019.

I had goals in 2019. I sought out life coaches, accountability groups, and weekend retreats.  What I accomplished was not what I thought I was going to. I wanted two ready-for-editors-novels. What I got was a reality check about the foundational work I needed to do to get there.

So here it is: 2020, and those fully written first, second, and partially completed third drafts, are stacked neatly on the corner of my desk.  I am no longer fooling myself about my psychological or physical ability to slog through a 9-5 that drains me and be a creative dynamo. I’m raw.

The only thing that helped me get through the holidays was a complete breakdown. Yes, you heard that right. It helped because I’m older and wiser, and I’ve been there before. Experience has taught me that reaching for the life preserver when you’re drowning can be the most empowering feeling in the world.

That article in Fast Company was encouraging. It was the validation that I needed after doing much soul searching during the past two months. And goodness knows we can all use a little extra validation.

Whatever your goals for 2020, I hope that each day you take tiny, meaningful steps toward your wellness. Whether that means eating healthier, or a much lighter intake of digital poo-ha, I hope that your year is amazing. I hope that you surprise yourself with resilience. I hope you have the strength and support to form new-to-you-healthy-habits. I hope you actualize a deep respect for who you are and what you bring to the world.

May 2020 be the year you persevere. May it be a year that your spirit sings with satisfaction.

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Who Said Yes?

dogslaveHead on over to @andshelaughs1 on Twitter.

I’ve retweeted a horrifying clip from the Economist. I love the Economist by the way, it’s right up there with Hallmark Christmas movies and making it to yoga class three times a week.

In my last post, I wrote to you about burnout and wished you well on your journey out of hell.  Let me assure you, that it could be worse. You could be forced to wear a device developed by Humanyze that tracks your every move and word at work. Taking it one step further, some companies are actually microchipping their employees.

Which begs the questions;

1)What fuck-wit actually thought this was a good idea?

2)What spineless turd first agreed to wear this, thus setting a precedent for all of the poor suckers who came after?

WALK UP A set of steep stairs next to a vegan Chinese restaurant in Palo Alto in Silicon Valley, and you will see the future of work, or at least one version of it. This is the local office of Humanyze, a firm that provides “people analytics”. It counts several Fortune 500 companies among its clients (though it will not say who they are). Its employees mill around an office full of sunlight and computers, as well as beacons that track their location and interactions. Everyone is wearing an ID badge the size of a credit card and the depth of a book of matches. It contains a microphone that picks up whether they are talking to one another; Bluetooth and infrared sensors to monitor where they are; and an accelerometer to record when they move.

“Every aspect of business is becoming more data-driven. There’s no reason the people side of business shouldn’t be the same,” says Ben Waber, Humanyze’s boss. The company’s staff are treated much the same way as its clients. Data from their employees’ badges are integrated with information from their e-mail and calendars to form a full picture of how they spend their time at work. Clients get to see only team-level statistics, but Humanyze’s employees can look at their own data, which include metrics such as time spent with people of the same sex, activity levels and the ratio of time spent speaking versus listening.

Taken from the Economist March 28, 2018

 

In the hands of people who stand to make the almighty dollar from tracking our every move, these devices obviously prove that hell, indeed, exists right here on earth.

As an alternative to wearing a tracking device like a dog, I suggest you take to the streets and protest our society’s obsession with automating our souls.  Seriously, the French know how to make change, and they do it loud and proud on the pavement that their taxes paid for.

microchipped

We live in a country lauded by the rest of the planet as being fabulous, yet we are apathetic to a fault. I’m sorry we’re sorry about everything. Mostly I’m sorry that it’s gotten so bad that keeping a roof over our heads stresses us out to the point of making us sick, destroying families, and leaves us feeling powerless.

Please promise me dear readers, that if you are ever asked to wear a device around your neck or to be microchipped by your employer that you not-so-politely decline. Life is too short to be treated like a commodity. I don’t care how much you need the money, freedom is priceless, humanity is sacred, and bullshit tracking devices are cluttering the planet with waste. 

 

 

 

 

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Christmas Is: Time to Cheer for Change

So I’ve been writing a lot about Christmas. I love Christmas, it’s easy to get lost in the merriment and let’s face it, I’m easily distracted by shiny things.

What I haven’t been writing about is how burnt out I am. How I have let things go so long, that now it feels like it’s gone to shit. And I don’t have the inclination to fix it, fake it, or take it.

I’m not a sissy at burn out. I’ve been there before, but now I’m too old for it. I feel like a toddler with my chubby arms crossed against my old-lady chest, lip stuck out, emphatically letting the world know that, ” I don’t have to.” It’s not cute, and it’s not pretty, but it is what it is.

I may look sad, but trust me, I’m pissed. And I will not tolerate anyone’s shit. Not for love or money.

I’m not a nervous breakdown burn-out. I’m a pissed off, middle-aged burn out.  And when I’m pissed off I cry. Then I get frustrated with myself, and I get angrier, and then I cry.

I constantly tell myself everything is rosy when it’s not. I can do it for years. It’s a long-standing type of self-preservation that only people who come from a history of abuse will understand. Take it from me, you know when it’s time to move on from any kind of toxic relationship; career, friendship, romance, family…whatever.

If your burnout is from work, try to reframe it until you can leave. Through coaching and experience, I have learned that sometimes work can give us what we need ( a pay cheque) until we find a pay cheque that stresses us less. Nothing lasts forever. And that’s a good thing.

Recently I was speaking to one of my friends who has her own counselling practice. She said that people come to her on a regular basis terrified of crying at work, totally victims of harassment and workplace bullying, the ugly step-daughters of corporate greed. I do believe that working until we have nothing left to give is one of the great social diseases of our time.  It eats away at the good things in our life, until it’s the only thing we can think about. Not cool. Not sexy. Not impossible to extricate yourself from either.

I have been very lucky in the past to have meaningful work that didn’t feel so much like work.  And that gives me hope, and I hope it gives you hope as well.

The end of the year often lends itself to retrospection, which goes hand in hand with setting goals for the new year. What was great about my year? What wasn’t so great? How am I going to change that? How am I going to make my life better?

stuckOnce upon a time my Mumster told me to go home and just look at job sites. She said knowing that so many opportunities are out there would cheer me up. She’s right. It was the same feeling I had as I drove through the city streets from our island airport. I looked up at all of the tall buildings, at all the lights, the ads, and I knew that there was opportunity if only I got out and let the world know that I was interested.

If you’re feeling burnt out, I hope you don’t get comfy in the cushy sofa of despair.  I hope that you set coffee dates with people who are doing what you want to do and are open to sharing their experience.  Spend time with people who love you and want you to be successful. Start small if you have to. Offer your services on fiverr, take free classes at the local library, be curious.

There are plenty of resources out there for you. My sweetie loves,  What Colour is Your Parachute, but I prefer Careergasm. I’m a fan of Sara Smeaton and think that in 2020 I need to spend more time at her workshops.  Last year I started off the year going to seminars, setting goals and putting myself out there. It fizzled at the end, but I gained some momentum…and I’m convinced that that momentum will continue.

As one of my  hippy dippy friends said, “Put it out to the universe.”  She was right. Put it out there. Let the world know you are open to opportunity, and it will find you.