The Things I Love About George Takei

His humour. His wit. His openness. His acceptance of diversity and individuality. And I don't even KNOW the man! He has this incredible ability to make me laugh and cry at the same time. I'm speaking, of course of his Facebook posts (unless you want to think that I'm cool enough to know and talk to him, in which case, yeah, we totally just had brunch). He has these great memes and amazing sarcastic quotes, but then he fires out a post which scream injustice and demands action. I'm speaking mostly of the boycott of Arizona's 'Turn Away The Gay' bill, which would allow business owners to turn away any  LGBT customers. Some might call it 'religious freedom' but it is, in my opinion, straight up discrimination. If two men walk hand-in-hand into a store, you don't turn them away because they're gay, you let them shop like you would any straight couple, because they're human. Arizona's Governor Jan Brewer vetoed the bill (yay Jan!). However, Mississippi has recently passed the law, which I understand will take effect July 1st. Shame on Gov. Phil Bryant.

But just this evening I read a post that Mr. Takei shared; "Parents Of Transgender Son Share Their Emotional Story With Inspirational Mini-Doc". It was one I had seen floating around my Facebook feed that for whatever reason, I didn't click on. Not because I wasn't interested in the subject matter, more because most FB share links send me to weird Norwegian diet sites. But I'm so happy I decided to take the plunge and read the article, because it restored my faith in some of the people we have in this world, and gave me hope that maybe we're not a completely screwed up society.

The article tells the story of beautiful 6-year-old Ryland Whittington, a transgender who was born a girl but who now lives as a boy. I was most intrigued by the fact that the son they speak of was so young when he realized 'she' felt like a 'he', just 2-years-old. I really had no idea that at that young an age, transgender is even a concept. I have a young daughter who, at the age of three, wanted to dress up as Buzz Lightyear for Halloween and totally rocked that space suit. She played with trucks in the dirt, wore a blue pair of shoes, and never took an interest in the pink side of the toy section. She was the quintessential 'tomboy'. And my husband and I never tried to sway her to 'the other side' or push Barbies and makeup on her. If it was a phase, she's grow out of it, and if not, we'd go on loving her just the same. But she did eventually develop an interest in dolls and Disney princesses. This boy Ryland never did. He (she, at this point still) identified himself as his little sister's 'brother'. He dressed up as Spiderman and Woody and hated wearing dresses. His parents finally figured out that he wasn't going through a phase and maybe they should pursue his preferences, after researching the staggering suicide rate of trans people. So they cut his hair into a handsome 'male' fashion, let him dress more masculine, changed the decor in his room to be boy friendly, and noticed how happy he was. Like he was complete, free to be himself.

I ended the video in tears. I couldn't imagine what it must be like to be so young, so vulnerable, so confused about who you are or who you 'should' be. He was trapped in a body that he didn't understand, that didn't match who he was in his mind. That terrified me. I couldn't help but think about my own children. What if one of my daughter's woke up each day, wanting her entire wardrobe to consist of blue jeans and Transformers shirts, who wanted a blue room and a train set and wanted me to call her by a different name (the boy in the story didn't bring up that point, but his name can be used as a boy's or girl's. My kids have distinctly female names). What would I do?

I would love her. I would accept her. I would call her him/he if she wanted. I would hug her as much and as tightly as I do now. I would cry just as hard when she falls and scrapes her knee as I do now. I would get just as anxious and excited for her (far in the future) wedding day as I do now, regardless if she wore a dress or a tux. 1 Corinthians 13:7-8a "Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. It is, in fact, the one thing that still stands when all else has fallen." 

You can't mask discrimination with religion. You accept diversity with open arms, and an open heart. You stamp out hatred with the fervour of stopping a spark from catching on dry grass, and spread love like wildfire.

Let's hope that what these parents have done for their son will not only shape his life, but will reshape the views of those who are trying to take away his freedom, and the freedom of every other affected minority.

-N

Eye Spy

Lately I've been re-evaluating my past; more specifically my pension for tweezing my eyebrows. When I was in high school, girls shaved their eyebrows. No joke. I never understood why. Although high school is all about learning, and by grade 12 all of the reformed shavers had gorgeous, enviable and now-popular luscious brows. I, on the other hand, tweezed. It never looked that bad, and back then thin brows were everywhere. Well, I'm paying the price for taking advice from Tiger Beat. Either my brows are too small, or my face is too big. But it's easier to change my eyebrows. Being blonde, I'm terrified of eyebrow pencils. It's easy to go from prom queen to drag queen. A couple of strokes, to be exact. I'm contemplating going to Sephora and just plopping myself in a chair and telling the sales girl "fix these PLEASE" before quickly resorting to sobbing. As long as it costs less than $50. Ghetto brows, that's what I'll end up with. :/

The little kick in the grass that my dog does after she poops is quickly becoming the highlight of my day. She's such a donkey.

The lilac bush in our driveway is finally blooming. It's such a gorgeous smell, especially in the morning when I'm walking my daughter to school. There's really nothing better than nature waking you up. It's so invigorating. I still need my coffee in order to feel human, but the flowers really get me the rest of the way. I'm going to have pick some for my makeup table. Fresh flowers always seem to boost my creativity.

I'm trying my best to eat healthier. I bought a couple packages of sugar peas. They're really tasty. Not as good as ice cream or Snickers bars, but we'll see where we end up. 

-N

Crunch Time

Why are all the good snacks at their loudest and tastiest at 11 pm? Every time I throw a handful of chips into my face I'm worried I'll wake up my husband and he'll be sitting up in bed, shaking his head. But seriously, these barbecue Crispers are my LIFE.

I'm planning a trip up north in a couple of weeks. It's my friends' birthday party ('Dirty Thirty' if you will. I won't). I never really get to see my closest friends anymore. I moved to this little town 2 years ago, and it's 2 hours away from everyone. Well, everyone I know, you know? We moved here because housing was cheap and my husband's family is here. Which is alright, most of them are okay, I guess. But it's hard, seeing pictures and hearing stories from a crowd that you used to be in, experiences that you used to be a part of, and now you're just on the outside looking in. Don't get me wrong, I have a few friends here and they're great, but I'm not totally comfortable around anyone but those few 'special' ones up north.... Really I just need a car. That would basically solve it. First world problems, right?

I need to get me into some pyjama pants. Which reminds me, I need new pyjama pants. They're one of those things I never think about in the store, but as soon as it's couch time, I remember, Oh yeah, these are one of three pair of worn out pants with a hole in the crotch, I should get some new ones. And I have NO idea how those holes got there, I swear. I should probably sew them up, because every time I come strutting out of the bedroom my husband gives me sidelong glances and wiggles his eyebrows 'cause he likes my "easy access doors". Gross. Men are gross. He farts SO MUCH.... Gross.

My new 'escape' hobby is making wishlists spreadsheets of makeup I want. Excel makes everything look more organized. Usually I wait until it's just me, late at night as per usual (you'll see this will become a running thing with me. Night-owl I am.) and I'll just watch all my favourite beauty guru's on YouTube talk about their favourite products. Every time they do swatches I'm like "Ooh, that's pretty! I'mma write that one down!" I now have 10 pages of product. Mostly drugstore. My Sephora list is a book unto itself. But lately that's just been my thing. I've always loved makeup, but I got out of it for a while because makeup from when I was in high school SUUUUUCKED. Cover Girl made the worst foundation, but I always bought it, because it was cheapest and geared towards young girls with no clue. Now, oh my god, the possibilities are endless! My first venture will be to stock up on Wet N Wild eye shadows and lipsticks, and forage for as many e.l.f products as I can. I want them ALL! I may try the latter one this weekend. There's a place in the city that apparently sells them. Right now I've only seen a few items in my dollar store and at Winners. PS Dollarama is kind of kicking ass lately with the beauty products. They had Essie's for THREE dollars! And some pretty nice CoverGirl mascara. CoverGirl does mascara way better than they do face. Maybe I'll post a pic if I get anything ooh wouldn't that be fun?! (Yes, it would---I have to answer myself just to boost my ego.)

-N

Late Night TLC

Nope. Not that kind of TLC. I've been watching "19 Kids and Counting" and "The Little Couple" for 3 hours. Hubby and babes are asleep on the couch, now it's mommy's TV and nail time. This is literally the only time I get to myself, to paint my nails, watch what I want, and eat the 3 Musketeers bar that has been calling my name from the back of the cupboard where I hid it after I came home from the store. I had to open it under a dishtowel so the noisy wrapper didn't wake anyone up. The struggle is real. 

So, back to TV. I don't really watch much of it. I try to get into shows and fall off the bandwagon 4 episodes in. Even "The Walking Dead". Love the show, still midway through the 3rd season. I'll get to it. But for some reason, those 2 TLC shows get me. I remember when 19KAC came out, and I, along with a huge number of people, I'm sure, thought What the bleep is this, 20 kids?? But it's a really cool show. Those kids are pretty rad. Way to go Jim Bob and Michelle. I just can't figure out the skirt thing. The older girls always wear skirts, no jeans. Is that a faith thing? I'm sure Wikipedia has the answers somewhere. And "The Little Couple" are 2 of the funniest people on TV. And genuinely funny, not like they're making jokes like their paychecks depend on it. It good. Good TV. Not always the case, especially for TLC (hello, 'My Strange Addiction' and 'Extreme Cougar Wives'?)

Whaaaaa???...

Something else that takes up a large part of my time (other than hastily throwing together a couple of Cheez Whiz sandwiches for the kids and tossing the dog a ball or shoe or baseball glove) is planning a trip to the States. That's what we call the U.S here in Southern Ontario. Or 'Mericuh'. But less often. I'm close to the border, 25 minutes or so, and I watch these makeup hauls on YouTube and Oh My Lanta!, the deals y'all get at your CVS, Rite Aid and Walgreens! Without this HST BS. I'm jealous. Super jealous. So I gotta jet over there. As soon as the loonie gets a little better. And when I get a passport. (Whoever came up with THAT idea needs to be hanged. Back in my day, we could cross the border willy nilly without having to worry about this passport business.) 

Rant/ramble over. Bed beckoning. Same time tomorrow?

-N

Garbage Day

I don't know what's more irritating; waking up to a terrible rendition of Whitney Houston's "I Will Always Love You", the garbage truck, or my husband yelling at the dog because she ate someone's breakfast off of the table (but come on, no one was eating those burnt sausage patties anyway). And seriously, who could be mad at this face? 

The weather's getting warmer. People are already complaining about the heat. Considering what a b**ch of a winter we had, I'll take anything and sing my gratitude. But working in retail, like I do, you hear so many people complain. And the weather is the first strike. I guess it's considered small talk. Isn't that strange? You figure you need to be nice while buying canned corn and ice cream sandwiches, so your first thought is to bellyache about the mild humidity, even though 6 weeks ago your fingers were blue from frost and you couldn't walk into a store without your nose dripping like you were allergic to life. People are strange. And I'm no exception. Give me a a couple of days, I'll step off my soap box, but complain as soon as my feet touch asphalt because it's haaawwwwwttt. 

I'm also learning, in my old age, how important it is to take off eye makeup before going to bed. I know, it's important at any age, it's bad for the skin to leave it on all night, yada yada but seriously, everyone does it at some point. But it's not the health effects I worry about. It's the nasty black eye boogers in the morning that gross me out. And now I've grossed you out with talk of my eye goop. Sorry.

Eye goop. That is all. 

First Timer

So here it is. The moment I've been thinking about and nervously anticipating for the last 2 some-odd years. 

I got the idea of making a blog, really, to get rid of these little thoughts, ideas, and tidbits of nothing that are muddling in my brain. That and, my husband says it would be a good idea because "people say" I'm funny. He says it like HE doesn't think I am. He does, though. He totally does. 

I can't really tell how this is going to go. I've never been good at keeping a journal. And that's essentially what a blog is, right; a journal? Only one that you post for the world (look at my ego grow already) to see, for all of eternity. I have a journal, and have had it for 7 years now. There are 13 entries. So yeah, a bit of a crap-shoot. 

Maybe I'll tell you (who ever is reading this and wants to know) a little about me; female, late 20's, Canada, purple, makeup, nail poli-- sorry, I just reverted to the old high school  'MSN Messenger' opening line. Computers are weird, I should be doing this on my iPhone. Anyway those first three are apt: I'm a bored, married twenty-something, mother-of-two, with a growing obsession for makeup, nail polish, and YouTube videos. My kids are getting older, and this is something "just for mommy". Like Palm Bays. Or mascara. A place just for me to ramble on, to no one in particular, about nothing of any relevance to anyone but me. Mostly about the circus act that is my home life, or what's currently occupying my makeup table, if I got anything in the mail, or about how I wish I could drink like I did when I was 21, but still proud that I don't anymore (without sounding sanctimonious). Let's see how that works. 

I have absolutely no idea how to do this. There's a 'HELP' button somewhere. I may use it. I'll wait until it's 3 am, and I'm sweaty, sobbing and in foetal position, twitching finger hovering un-decidedly above the 'Publish' button. So come along on this crazy journey. And if you don't, please call 9-1-1, in case that whole sobbing on the floor thing turns into a seizure and I need medical assistance.   

-N