Kicking Alzheimer's in the Armpit

I'm not certain why but lately my brain seems to be leaking from my ears. Okay, not literally. But I've been scattered, forgetful, misplacing things and losing everyday items. Sometimes it's the cats fault (that bastard) but usually it just seems to be the slow disintegration of my grey matter - which leads me to the Big A.

Alzheimer's.

It's a pretty big fear of mine and not just because my great grandmother started eating the peels of bananas and throwing away the fruit (an image burned on my brain). I mean c'mon HAVE YOU SEEN THE NOTEBOOK? That shit is serious and it makes you forget about making out with Ryan Gosling!

Action must be taken. I started doing the usual things like eating more salmon and bumping up my Omega 3s. Then I started looking for alternatives to my antiperspirant - hailed for years as the poisonous brain balm that I wipe on my 'pits. Something something too much aluminum. Apparently the Whole Foods versions smell like dirty hippies and do very little to contain ones natural stank.

Then lo and behold I was introduced to the following: Deodorant Cream. It was reviewed by a cooking blogger that I follow and she claimed that her armpits had never smelled better. I was intrigued and ordered up a container. The cream is made by a woman in Brooklyn who runs a shop named Soapwalla. She has quite a story, read her blog if you're interested. .
When the cream arrived I was excited, it smelled like my idea of heaven - lavendar, mint and tea tree heaven. I have to admit that rubbing it on is a bit weird to me, but probably just as weird as rubbing something on my arsehole would be. It's not a place that I've often rubbed a product and so it's a little strange. Not in a "aww sick, I gotta wash my finger" kind of way, just a "huh, so that's the texture of my armpit" type of thing. No biggie, I'm over it.

Anyhoo, I've been wearing it for about a month and have put it through every test possible. Biking to and from work, working all day, spin class, booty camp, pilates, wedding planning, in-law relations - nothing has broken through this puppy yet.

Suffice it to say, if you're near me and you smell B.O. - it's the guy next to me, my pits are golden.

Wedding Wednesday: The Dress!

There have been very few stressful decisions so far into our wedding planning. The time, place, wedding party and budget all fell into place rather quickly and painlessly. So I was due for a little nail biting and suffering when it came time to choose my dress. Let's be clear here - I love to shop. I am merciless, objective, efficient and realistic about my body. I can usually make it through the entire Eaton's Centre hitting five shops and one department store. I know what I like, I know what looks good on me and I know what I can afford. Unfortunately Banana Republic hasn't started making bridal gowns yet...or maybe I should say fortunately.

It's not that I wanted a simple and cheap dress, I just wanted something that was ME. And the ME that I know is none of the following: sequins, tiny pearls, ruffles, hoop skirts, crinoline, puffy sleeves or snow white satin. Nope, not me. Which is not to say that I won't like those things on YOU. But it takes a special gal to make some of those things work, and frankly I am not that special .

It took a total of five trips to four shops which included Beckers Bridal on the Danforth, Ritche on Avenue, Le-Ann Belter on Queen East, The Room at The Bay and then back to Beckers for the final reveal :) Thankfully my three best friends, Aunt and Mother are all still speaking to me after all of this bruhaha. It's a very surreal experience to put on a wedding dress and it kind of fucks with your mind. I swear that dupioni silk has hallucinogenic properties. Suddenly you start thinking that an eight foot train isn't that unreasonable, or that a belt of rhinestones is totally worth $350 or that the swan wrapped around your midsection is rather flattering. no, No and NO!

In the end I chose four dresses and took my mother and friend to see them. They chose the wrong one. Which was great because then I realized how much I wanted the one they didn't choose! They saw it my way eventually, we all shed tears and now it's all done. It's being made in Paris (ooh la la!) and will be here in five months! It's like waiting for a beautiful, silky, very premature baby! And I'm gonna love that baby sick.

Read it - Flow (the cultural history of menstruation)

I've always had a strange fascination with books that document old-timey contraptions, especially when it comes to women's health. I think this partly stems from a desire to feel good about the age I live in - a sort of "hey, we don't have it so bad!" pat on the back. But also I like to shake my head and tsk tsk all the stupid medical and religious decisions that basically shit on us gals. Oh you silly men, using vibrating belts to help cure us of hysteria and pouring lysol in our vagina's to make us more desirable to our husbands.
Yah - you heard me right. [ugh...shiver]

This book was absolutely 100% fascinating and I recommend it to anyone. You might think that as a lady who has been experiencing her "lady times" for over 20 years that there would be nothing left to learn. Sadly, you would be wrong. In grade five they pulled all the boys out of class (to go have the boner discussion presumably) and played all the girls a movie made by Tampax. Well I was sick that day (probably faking), so I got to take the movie home and watch it with my mother and her best friend. They just happened to be having a ladies cocktail hour after school that day - which made the experience of the menstruation video even more enjoyable...for them. There was much chatter about the old days when they had to strap on "the belt" during their "curse". I was totally lost and began to think that if a belt was involved perhaps the belly button was too? Even more worrisome - how was I going to go to the bathroom when I was all plugged up by a tampon? Anatomy was not my strongest point.

So even after years of experiencing a period I still really had no idea what was going on inside my body. Where were these alleged eggs? Did it really look like the beginning of the movie "Look who's talking" in there? Why on the Thursday before my period did it feel like someone had taken the beats to my boobs?
No idea.
And even if I did have an idea the author of the book claims that any female on contraceptives only has a "phony baloney period". Screw you lady. Walks and talks like a period and that's enough for me.

There's plenty of cool, amusing and downright scary vintage ads throughout the book demonstrating all the various ways that women have been encouraged to hide or deal with the embarrassment of their bodies.
 
Most of the ads from the 1950's seem to be aimed at shaming young wives into believing that their husbands believe they are filthy and therefore they cannot be loved. That shit is GRIM. Where's Peggy Olsen when you need her!?



What's amazing about most of the ads is the way that they address the topic - they never actually use the word period. In fact, it wasn't until 1985 when Courtney Cox was the very first person to use that word in a television commercial. Way to go Monica!!






All in all a really great book on what most would consider to be a rather gruesome topic. Read it, love it, then strap a belt on it.

Sky (Ani)Mall!

In this months edition of "I'm bored on a plane and sitting next to an obese person and can't wedge my laptop out of it's crevice" - I got lost in the Sky Mall mag. Not familiar with this Pulitzer Prize winner of the sky? Well it's kind of like a mix between the Sears Christmas catalogue and Mad magazine. It's every single bad idea ever thought up by your uncle who thinks he can invent amazing things (usually after five or six beers). Now I get a kick out of vibrating socks and voice activated golf balls as much as the next gal - but what I REALLY love about Sky Mall is the shit they do with animals.

Exhibit A: Bad animals with adorable faces.

Clearly these animals have used their powers of cuteness to seduce a small child and then mercilessly rip his/her face to shreds. Either that or they've been caught stealing sips from their mothers blueberry schnapps. IMPRISONMENT!


Exhibit B: Dead animals make the best models

This theory was posed by my bf and has ruined several years of Classic Cats calendars for me. But c'mon, you've got to admit - there is no way that anyone managed to get a collie to lay still long enough to capture this shot. Therefore - dead collie.

Exhibit C: Sweet faced puppies can sell anything

I don't want to conceive of the day where I will live with dogs so small that they can't climb onto a goddamn couch - but these puppies can make a woman do unthinkable things. In my mind I've already starting writing an elaborate story along the theme of the cinematic classic "Stepmom". In this scenario the dog lying down is Susan Sarandon and the bitch climbing the stairs is Julia Roberts. There will be snuggling, there will be a heart-wrenching duet of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" and there will be ass licking.

Exhibit D: Cats will always make you look like the asshole

These cats are WAY too cool for school. Not only do they make the inventor look like an asshole for coming up with these ideas but they SHAME you for even considering their purchase. SHAME!! I mean really - that cat on the toilet is giving you some serious smack talk right now. Turn the page, just look away.

Exhibit E: Fake animals judge no one

In the end it seems more reasonable to turn to fake animals for solace. And who wouldn't be warmed by the site of Harry Henderson's sasquatch or our favorite family of anthropomorphized meerkats?

Exhibit F: Although....

This little bitch just stole my soul.

"You're too late - I already killed her"

Last night I went to a strangers house to try on wedding dresses. Random, I know. I found these two gorgeous Vera Wang dresses on Craigslist and they were cheap cheap cheap! So, I couldn't resist.

I told the bf that if I were to be killed on this mission that at least he'd have a really good story to tell at his next wedding.

He wasn't amused.

yadda yadda yadda, the dresses didn't fit. blah blah blah i didn't die.
good story.

The Cult of Cutrone

Last night I dragged my tired post-daylight savings time butt over to the Eaton's Centre to catch a glimpse and hear the spastic wisdom of Kelly Cutrone. For those of you blinded to the lure of such trash tv as The Hills and The City - you may not know who she is. Fortunately throngs of stiletto-heeled women and well-dressed gay men do and hence her book signing and interview were very well attended.

It is my belief that the character played by Margaret Cho in Sex and the City is based on Cutrone. Discuss.



She was shilling her new pamphlet  book instructing young women and gays (her words) in the ways of life and business. The book outlines some rules for success which I have to say - are brilliant if not a little common sensical. Her first rule and book title - If you have to cry, go outside.
Young women of the world - WRITE THIS DOWN! And no, not on your hands.
The most uncomfortable of work situations occur when someone has done something wrong, is chastised and then starts to cry. Ugh, so manipulative! I have cried at work exactly three times (yes, I remember them each distinctly). All hidden within the walls of my office or private bathroom stall. No one needs to see a swollen, crying face and being comforted for not doing your job isn't in anyone's job description. Way harsh? Maybe, but for anyone who works with students or young women this advice is TOTALLY, COMPLETELY and UTTERLY necessary.

She also has some pretty salient advice on "giving good phone". Basically when to use the phone instead of using virtual communication. This one is going to be lost on most ears and I think is the most difficult to impart. Hell, even my own bf is a telephone rejector and usually REFUSES to answer a ring tone at home. Only an IM or TM ping gets his attention. But for people in the workforce it is often much easier to pick up a phone than to send multiple passive-aggressive messages consisting of "Did you read my email yet?". C'mon people, can't we all just communicate?

It was a very entertaining evening and while I think Jeannie is best suited to the fast-paced, quick, backstage interviews - she did manage to keep things flowing along. Kelly had many stories about her fabulous life but tended to fall into glamorizing her past drug habits and promiscuous activities, perhaps not the best stories for a predominantly underage audience.



She wrapped up with some excellent Oprah-esque advice - that everyone needs to take the time to figure out who they are and that using celebrities (herself included) as inspiration is much healthier than trying to replicate anyone. She advises using your inner voice to guide you, to never listen to people trying to keep you down and to go balls out on intuition. That's right - balls out.
My favorite soundbite: You shouldn't give birth to a child until you've given birth to yourself.
Let's take a minute to soak in that wisdom.

Alright, time to shake off the after-birth and get back to work.

Wedding Wednesday: How to bag him

Given the message of this ad - I don't HOW it's possible that I'm getting married. In fact just this morning I said to my beloved "Has my morning breath ever made you wanna throw up?". Because in fact it has made ME wanna throw up. He responded appropriately indicating that lilies and roses sprout up from my oral cavity whilst I sleep.

No wonder I love him - because he LIES so well.