Excellent, Cuddly Mother Up for Adoption

Tessa: I have been approached by numerous people who have expressed interest in ‘adopting’ my mother.I’ve finally decided that enough is enough, it’s time to share the joy so I am officially offering up my mom, Rose, for adoption. Those who feel adoption is too much will be able to subscribe to the “Rose a Week” program which will give the right and very lucky applicant, access to speak regularly with my mother on the phone for a FULL YEAR!

For those of you who are new to this blog my mother, we’ll call her Rosie, has the following excellent qualities: she is cuddly, comes equipped with an excellent if not somewhat imperious sense of humour, is affable when she chooses to be, loves sports, politics, life, isn’t afraid to embrace her large inner child, likes to dance, drink a few modest glasses of wine, is a great cook and offers great life advice like sort of, contradicts herself and everyone else when she thinks she is absolutely right, at least for the moment, judges fashion faux pas, George Bush, and Stephen Harper harshly and we’ll always find a way to understand your point of view while telling you off all at the same time. Although she snores (heavily) she does come with excellent references and a few good appliances such as a 11 year old Kia that only has 33,000 km on it,  a good vacuum cleaner, and a statue of an old drunk guy that her old boyfriend James Bond gave her. She also is equipped with an authentic Dutch accent and funny expressions.

Serious applicants only can email me at: rosieupforadoption@yahoo.ca

Dye Jobs or Die Jobs: When your hairdresser blows it - Follow-up

Tessa: Several months ago I wrote a post about my bad hair dye job. This happened when I brought in a beautiful picture of this woman with sandy brown hair with tasteful highlights that I thought would suit me perfectly and also bring me closer to my natural colour.

What happened, of course, is a completely different story. My hairdresser, let’s call her Cindy, pooh poohed the picture and said something like “You have to keep in mind complexion. That will be too dark for you.” She then proceeded to dye my quite blonde (also dyed) hair, chocolate brown.  As some of you might recall, this is when shock, horror, tears and more tears ensued, with promises from my husband that it looked “ok”. “OK.” Ok is what you say when there is nothing else to say. OK is what you say when your wife threatens to shave her entire head and start again. Ok is the new ugly. That’s what ok is. But nevermind. I was in a pickle because my previous hairdresser, let’s call her Marcie, had gone to the other extreme previous to this nightmare situation and dyed my hair white blonde. Also, not good. This time it didn’t even warrant an “It’s okay.” This time it warranted utter, dead, and deafening silence.

So I toiled with my shocking blonde head for months until I decided to ‘dye’ my hair back to it’s natural colour which does not happen to be chocolate brown.

In the first instant of my fury, shock and horror I wanted to shave my head or have her add lighter highlights. But at this point my head was starting to look like a toxic waste site, 3 Mile Island, Chernobyl. Whatever you want to call it. So, in the interests of saving my hair from another march down the aisle, a bad aisle, I declined and decided to live with the darkness. Oh and the frizziness because if you fry your hair with enough dye it makes you look like you live with your finger in an electrical socket. But nevermind.

I decided to leave it. Interestingly, over the past few months the chocolate seems to have disappeared leaving me with yet another colour altogether. Let’s call it taupe.

My lesson is that from here on in I’m going au naturel. No dye, no highlights, no chocolate, no nothing. I’m going to restore my hair to its former lustrous mousey colour, no wait,  let’s call it rich caramel with a touch of flambe wine , and call it a day.

TV will Save Your Relationship: Conversations with my Mother

Tessa: Hi mom,
Rosie: Hi sweetie, how are you?
Tessa: Ahh okay.
Rosie: I saw your sister today. We talked about how you didn’t have children.
Tessa: Oh yeah.
Rosie: I told her you two were the lucky ones. Children are so rotten today. You don’t know what you’re going to get. Look at those drug addicts that live across the street. They’re only 14 and smoking god knows what. But I said you would have made a good mother. Too bad. Oh well. You have Dave, at least. He’s a great husband. You’re very lucky.
Tessa: Have you booked your ticket for Christmas yet?
Rosie: No I have to sell some furniture first?
Tessa: Why
Rosie: I don’t know how long I’ll live. What are your favourite shows?
Tessa: I dunno.
Rosie: Dave mentioned to me that you’re not so big on television. You know. When you’re married you have to learn to compromise. Can’t be all your way. I don’t want to tell you what to do but if you want to keep him you need to watch TV with him. Lots of it.
Tessa: Right. Are your neighbours still having sex?
Rosie: I don’t hear that old cow anymore. I think all my banging made her stop. I enjoy a good time too you know but that was TOO much. Your brother says he loves you.
Tessa: Yeah, well I love him too.
Rosie: Makes sense.
Tessa: Why?
Rosie: Your both my children and nice people. Why wouldn’t you like each other. You’re just like me.

Sweetness in the Belly: Camilla Gibb

Tessa: I am currently slogging my way through a book I hate, in fact, I haven’t touched it in two weeks, which has given me an even greater appreciation for Camilla Gibb’s Sweetness in the Belly, a little light read I picked up this summer.

I didn’t know anything about this book when I first picked it up. I didn’t even read the back jacket copy so when I started reading the book I really felt like I had been plunged into a completely different world. And I had.

Gibb tells the story of Lily, a little girl English/Irish girl who is orphaned in Morocco when her parents are killed. She is raised by Sufi’s and ultimately led to Ethiopia in the 70s when she is still a young teenager.

She earns her keep with a single woman and her family in Harar, a muslim enclave in predominantly Christian Ehtiopia, by doing household chores and teaching the Qu’ran to the local children who are too poor to attend school.

Here she is deeply immersed in the life, customs and the daily rituals of a rich muslim society where time has almost stood still. Gibbs paints such a vivid portrait of the muezzin that you can almost see the colourful headscarves, smell the coffee, incense, and feel the local customs. Sweetness in the Belly brings the reader close enough to this world that they can almost smell it. It’s this familiarity that allows you to understand the dynamics of how certain customs like female castration take place and the tribal, religious and cast differences that both divide and unite this culture. It also allows you to understand Islam as a faith and a way of life

Because faith is how Lily has protected herself from the changes and losses in her life she guards it fiercely. But it is tested  when she falls in love with Aziz a half Sudanese doctor. “The desire to remain in his company overwhelmed common sense; I would pick up my good Muslim self on the way home.” Although he is Muslim he is a moderate muslim who seeks change particularly where women’s health and politics is concerned.

But their relationship comes to a bittersweet end when Haili Salasie’s regime is overtaken by the Dergue, Aziz like thousands of others disappears and Lily finds herself a refugee in her native England.

What I love about this book is that for the first time I was able to understand the cultural dynamic of why and how certain cultural customs take place, and how cultural customs mix with religion to create an entirely unique social mix.

The Islam we hear about in the west is through the lense of post 9/11 where media and propaganda have created a fearful portrait of a militant islam that doesn’t reflect the reality of most of the islamic world.

Gibb’s portrait of Lily’s experience in London as an outsider also really brought home the difficulty and some of the hostility people face when coming to a new country.

On a lot of different levels Sweetness in the Belly succeeded in giving me an insider’s view not only of a woman’s journey to finding her home but also to a world and culture I know very little about. And she told the story in a way that touched my heart.

I Scream, You Scream: Images in Icecream

Munch

It’s crazy the things you can find if you have three minutes to scan your favourite sites. Serious Eats always has something to entertain me. This photo is found in balsamia’s collection on flickr.

Speedskating: I love it, I hate it, I love it, I hate it, I love it, I hate it

Tessa: Well it’s that time of year again when all the crazy people start to gather in ice rinks around the world. When I say crazy people I of course, include myself because like bees to honey, flies to swatters, horses to grass, I find myself going back year after year, in spite of relentless bitter complaints. I like to say I go because of Agatha Vanderstarre my 76 year old role model who still skates faster than me. Or I like to say I go because of Genghis our coach who I like to think is making me a better person for helping to stave off the dinkle colony that is forever threatening my thighs. Or because my best friend skates but it’s all lies. Lies. I skate because I just want to tell people that I do this freaky sport. I tell them I do it and they’re like really. Speedskating?? And I’m like YUH. When really in my mind I know it’s more like slow speedskating. Because like Agatha Vanderstarre my hero and mentor, I have only one speed and that’s forward. Slow but sure.
If ya’ll wanna join this brutal sport where they think its funny to make you skate for two minutes straight again and again and again with your knee hanging around your ankle in mind blowing pain, give me a shout. You too can be a part of this relentless, brutal crazy group of maniacs who wear tight suits.

Ode to my long distance brother

Tessa: For a long time now my brother John and I have lived apart. I moved to BC ages ago and even though he and his wife Alison lived here for awhile they chose to go back to Ontario.

Growing up my brother and I had our fair share of fights, and as adults we’ve also had our share of fights but we have always been best friends.

Even though I’ve lived in BC for almost thirty years we’ve managed to maintain a great phone relationship. We usually chat at least once a week, sometimes more and sometimes a little less. We often talk about his kids, or work or what’s going on with either of us but we often are just plain silly. Just as Batman completes the Joker, my brother is my other truly silly half. We laugh alot.

Sometimes I can’t wait to tell him some story that I know will make him roar and I hope he’ll pass it on to his wife Alison.

So when John and Alison decided to go to Peru for three weeks to celebrate their 25th anniversary, I didn’t realize how much I would miss him. My mom called one night to say that Johnny had called and that she had burst into tears when she heard him on the line. “I miss him.” she said. ” He visits me almost every night.”

My brother would never admit that he visits my mom because she needs visiting, he’d say he’s stopping by to have a cocktail with her but I think he’s stopping by because she likes him and needs him to visit.

The thing about my brother is this. He wasn’t raised by a dad who was that great. And my mom was a bit crazy too. Even though he was raised by my sometimes violent dad who was more often than not a jerk, he has grown up to be the kind of guy who decided to break that cycle. He is a great dad, a good husband, a great son and good brother. And he’s wickedly silly and funny.

People like my brother give me hope that you can make your life better than you were taught it could be. That’s why I was so damn happy when he and his wife and son came back safely from Peru and we could resume our regular chats.

Batman Rules

Tessa: So Dave and I have been doing something pretty crazy lately. That’s right. We’re going to movies. And what a blast it is! Why did I stop all those years ago?

Anyways, there are three movies we’ve seen recently that get a strong recommend.

First off, Batman: The Dark Knight. Everything all those people said about it is true. It’s not the best movie I’ve ever seen but it’s a good movie with some great performances. I’ve never been a big Batman, action hero/comic book kind of movie goer but this movie kept me riveted for all two hours and thirty-eight minutes.

I loved the fact that it was set in a recognizable city (Chicago I believe) and in modern times. The director did away with the weird timeless sets and basically tells a good story about the nature of good evil and how in different ways we all have different elements of it in our characters.

Along with everyone else I thought Heath Ledger as the Joker was brilliant. Geez. The guy can act. Although he plays a deeply disturbing and dark character there is something very compelling about this Joker. Maybe it’s his understanding of his own dark nature and the nature of others. Maybe it’s criminal prowess and okay, he’s a bit of a ruthless bastard but hey. It kept me from falling asleep.

And Gary Oldman. What the hell ever happened to him? He rocks. The only weak link in the movie is of course, Batman himself. I’m sorry but Christian Bale can’t act. He looks good in a mask and that’s about it.

Tropic Thunder: I have a penchant for silly movies so this one got me off the couch and it was well worth it. Ben Stiller goes well beyond any kind of politically correct boundaries and personally I found it quite refreshing and highly entertaining. I can’t stand Tom Cruise but wow he was actually quite funny. If he stopped taking himself quite so seriously and did more of this kind of stuff he might actually have something of a career left.

The other movie we watched was Control. It’s by first time director Anton Corbijn and it’s about the life of Ian Curtis the head man in Joy Division. No more on this. If you love excellent filmmaking, tragedy or Joy Division just go rent it.

Impact Entrepreneurship Group organizes Microcredit Competition

So this is pretty cool. Some time ago I went to see Dr. Yunus deliver the inaugural Nobel Laureate Michael Smith Lecture at UBC. He spoke, of course, about microcredit and I left feeling really inspired by his talk. Now I’m inspired again. It turns out there is a youth run organization called Impact Entrepreneurship Group that is organizing a Microcredit Competition with high school students.

The Microcredit Competition will take place between October 20th and 27th all over this year. They’ll give 200 teams of 3-5 students $100 to make as much profits as they can in one week. Winners will be given cool prizes, and the goal of this competition is to give youth an idea of how microcredit works and what it’s like to open their own business. Half the proceeds will to to a microfinancing institution and the other half will go to charity.

So check these guys out.

On Chesil Beach - Ian McEwan - Book Review

Tessa: I just finished reading On Chesil Beach Ian McEwan’s latest novel and loved it as much as I have his other more recent but larger works, Saturday and Atonement. The themes that underpin his larger works are evident in spades in this compelling love story. Here MacEwan explores how the lives of two ordinary people are irrevocably changed through a moment of indecision.

Set in Britain in the early sixties it chronicles the relationship between Edward and Florence, two young lovers from very different worlds. Edward grew up in the English country side where “the beds were never made, the sheets rarely changed,” the bathroom never cleaned, his mother absent. Florence, an aspiring classical musician, grew up in a well-to-do family that skied, played tennis and served bouillabaise, and exotic cheeses. He loves pubs, she loves concerts.

Yet, the differences that separate them is overcome by love that at least for a time, has the capacity to bridge their social worlds. So much so that even though it’s clear that Florence has an inability to deal with physical intimacy and indeed is repulsed by it neither of them venture a discussion concerning it during their year long courtship. Instead Edward choses to believe, albeit frustratingly, that Florence’s modesty will dissolve with the safety and security of marriage. But what Florence feels, is in fact, sheer terror and revulsion at the thought of the consummation of their marriage that only continues to build as their wedding day approaches. Florence regards the mere thought of intimacy with “a visceral dread, a helpless disgust as palpable as seasickness.”

It’s no surprise of course, that their wedding night is a disaster. But what makes this story so compelling is MacEwan’s ability to lay bear the elaborate ritual of love and repulsion, the tension between marriage and obligation, trust and ego. Although there is a reference that perhaps Florence had suffered some abuse this isn’t explored any further. What we have are two individuals who ‘love’ each other but don’t essentially know each other. And at the critical moment when they must lay themselves bare she suffers a failure of courage and he allows his ego to betray his heart. This time love can’t save them.

Although Florence and Edward aren’t exactly products of the Victorian age, neither are they a part of the pop culture/sexual revolution that was already starting to take the western world by storm. But even if they were, would that have made any difference at all? What McEwan explores so beautifully is what lies at the heart of being human; that we are flawed and that it is this that sets the course of our incomplete lives.