Do you support gender based equal opportunity (also known as employment equity or in the U.S. affirmative action) hiring policies?


Gender based equal opportunity means making women’s rights equal to men’s, and men’s rights equal to women’s. I agree 100% that women and men should be treated equally in every aspect, including pay, hours, maternal and paternal leave, benefits, treatment, etc. If everyone was treated equally, with equal opportunities, and fair unbiased treatment, then I suppose there would be nothing left to fight for.
             Slowly, society is starting to understand that everyone should be treated equally. Decades ago, there were protestors for African American (and Canadian) rights, then women’s rights, now it’s women’s and LGBTQ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer) rights. I think it’s about time for society to wake up, realize we are all human, deal with it, and carry on accordingly.
This isn’t going to happen overnight, but eventually (probably after my lifetime) gender based equal opportunity, and the fact that we needed legislation for it, will be laughed at by future generations. We laugh at the silly right-wingers for protesting interracial marriage back in the day, and future generations will be laughing at us for making a big deal about equal opportunities for men, women, and everyone. They will probably say something like, “Well duh, of course everyone is equal, we’re all just human after all.”
This topic taps the border of the religious nutters who are running around trying to make birth control and abortion illegal, while giving absolutely zero benefits to young, unemployed, single mothers, and children living in poverty. It’s a crazy world, our future is going to have to take care of it, and they’re going to be scolding the memory of us living in the back-wards times.
One day we’ll have equal rights and opportunities for all. One day. 

Am I a feminist?


I wasn’t sure what a feminist was even after reading up, so I decided to look at some definitions.

A feminist literally means that you are a person who supports feminism. There is a large misunderstanding throughout society that you must be a woman to be a feminist. This is certainly not true. Being a feminist simply means that you support feminism. Feminism is a collection of movements aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women. In addition, feminism seeks to establish equal opportunities for women in education and employment. A feminist is "an advocate or supporter of the rights and equality of women (Oxford English Dictionary, 2012)."
                
Of course I am all for women’s rights and the equality of women, but I would hardly consider myself an advocate. I’m not a campaigner, backer, activist, sponsor, or any other synonym relating to the word “advocate.” Thoughts of women’s rights rarely, if ever, enter my daily thinking mind. The only time I consider women’s rights is when I hear something outrageous, like how some states are able to fire women for using birth control, or states that do not allow abortions. These are pretty much the only times I pause to think about feminism. In fact, until this course, I did not even have a clear definition as to what a feminist or feminism is.

                Now that I am more informed, I think that I can say with confidence that although I appreciate the rights I have as a woman, no, I am not a feminist. I have never protested for women’s rights (or protested for anything, if we want to get right down to it), I never follow politicians who have the interests of women at heart, and I’ve never particularly cared about women’s rights in a historical sense, and our journey to get where we are today. I’m not sure if that makes me apathetic, lazy, or just uncaring, but this course will hopefully open my eyes to a new, unexplored, world for me.

                I think a lot of people’s views of what it means to be a feminist is skewed. Prior to reading the definition of a feminist, I simply thought that a feminist was an angry man-hater with a personal vendetta against men, or someone who women who are not feminists. I always hear the words, “You just put the women’s rights movement back 40 years” or some variation of this saying when a girl says she would be happy being taken care of financially by a man and wants to rear children at home and be a house wife. I don’t think an individual woman’s wants and desires could put the women’s movement back and erase all of that hard work. I think women should have the right to choose to do whatever she wants with her life and body, and no one should condemn her for that (unless it’s hurting someone else, of course).

                In short, yes I enjoy the benefits I have as a woman born in this day and age, but no I am not a feminist. 

Nostalgia Feels like a Heart Attack

Setting the scene: Live tweeting the first few episodes of Pokèmon, a beloved childhood cartoon.
“I wanna be the very best, like no one ever was.” Heart pounding, a million memories came rushing back. Playing, fighting, video games, movies, cards, and make believe. If you are a 90s kid, you know what this song lyric is from and you probably still remember the entire song, who your favourite Pokèmon was, and what their special move was.
Watching Pokèmon for the first time after ten plus years is a unique experience, especially when you “live tweet” it. Live tweeting is to relay information about an event on twitter minute by minute as the action is happening. Laying on a university dorm bed, hard springs with a hundred memories of their own living in the fabric, two screens glare and speakers blare with the iconic song, signally the beginning of an epic adventure. My back aches, my eyes are strained, my heart pounds. All other thought escapes my mind save for mouthing the song word for word, inflection for inflection. I remembered it to a tee.
The magic of the moment is broken by my first tweet of the night. The glow of my iPhone, and focus of trying to spell everything correctly in the tweet, distracts me from the show. “The theme song to Pokèmon makes me so nostalgic, I remember being in elementary school playing with Pokèmon cards.” My third tweet followed this vein, “Does anyone remember when Pokèmon cards were banned from school? I do, and it sucked. #childhoodgrudges.” The use of hash tags (#) brings more description to your tweet in a few characters.
My heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my throat and pound my eyeballs out of my skull. Why does nostalgia hurt so much, and basically feel like a heart attack? The intense rushing memories, every twitch of Pikachu’s ears, every turn of Ash’s hat feels like an old friend embracing me in their arms with a bear hug after ten years of absence.
I can almost smell my childhood home. I can almost hear my sisters racing to name “Who’s that Pokèmon.” I can almost feel my sponge Disney chair beneath me. Instead, I have a small dusty university dorm room, that is always so hot I want to gag, and the smell of stale beer wafting from the recycling bins in the hallway is enough to make anyone sick. The contradictory tones of feeling are so intense. My heart feels like a heart attack. The safe, warm feeling of Pokèmon playing, like a long lost photograph you haven’t seen in years, as opposed to the uncomfortable feeling of everyday existence in a dorm room, eight feet by eleven feet of avocado green walls and the shouts of floor mates a constant reminder of where and when you are.   
  I’m an adult child, there are many like me, who cling to the fabric of time with vicious claws and transport themselves to a simpler era. Cartoons, songs, and Pikachu’s thunderbolt attack are the closest thing to a real-life time machine we will ever have. 

Mama Hen and her Chickies

It was my first year back in my old high school after a three year absence. I transferred high schools at the beginning of grade eight, and finally got to be back with my childhood friends in grade eleven. It was a bizarre feeling, and I felt like the new kid all over again, all awkward and being gawked at.
That fall the school decided that they would plan a school trip for anyone who wanted to go, and we got to decide the destination. I didn’t think anything of it at first; I wasn’t particularly interested in exotic travel and experiencing different cultures. My friends had other plans, and soon we were planning our Euro Trip.
Fundraiser after fundraiser ensued to help us with the traveling fees. Bake sales, auctions, baskets, and donations all helped towards helping us have the best time possible. We started in the fall and were relentless until the spring, when March break was upon us, and it was time to depart.
Eleven days, three countries, eleven girls, two chaperones, and an experience on a lifetime, Euro Trip 2007 will forever be a part of our high school memories. First stop: Italy. Being only sixteen at the time, we were psyched that the drinking age was fourteen.  We asked our guide, Glauco, where we could go clubbing.
Excitedly running around and getting ready to go out in the hotel, we were berated several times by the neighboring guest at the hotel. No matter how many times she pounded on our door, and reminded us, “I have to be up at 7am!” We didn’t care. We didn’t settle down. We couldn’t settle down even if we wanted to. We were going to the Space Electronic Discotheque on a Tuesday, and she couldn’t damper our fun.
Running from room to room borrowing headbands, necklaces, bags, shoes, dresses, anything we coveted from our friends and wanted to borrow for just a few hours.
Finally, we were ready. Dressed to impress, and getting some final words from Mr. M, our super cool junior high vice principle who sadly couldn’t go because one of the girls wanted to stay behind. Why she wanted to stay behind will remain a mystery and high school legend.
When all the girls got their final words of, “Don’t wander off with strangers,” they filed out of his hotel room to await the fleet of cabs that would take us to the Discotheque.
“One moment Joelle,” said Mr. M when everyone had left.  For a slight second I thought I was in trouble, that I couldn’t go, and my night was ruined.
“Sure Mr. M,” I squeaked in a small nervous voice. Oh man, this is it, I thought. It’s all over, I’ve messed up somehow and I can’t go out with the girls.
“I’ve noticed that you’re the most responsible one of the group, would you mind keeping an eye on everyone for me?”
My heart soared, my spirits lifted, and to this day I’ve never felt more proud to be me in my entire life. There were three other girls on the trip who were older than me; he could have asked any one of them to help keep the other girls safe. Instead,he chose me.
“Oh, and don’t let Kristina drink too much,” Mr. M chuckled with dark humour. He probably remembered that on our very first night in Italy we got a hold of a bottle of wine and some boys from Texas and drank on the roof of our hotel.
The night was an amazing success. I kept everyone’s wallets and money in my oversized, white, fake Prada bag, no one got lost, and we only suffered minor heart attacks from the Italian cabbies driving skills. I still remember him trying to relate to us by talking in minimal English about the Californian forest fire when he heard we were Canadian.
From that night on I was Mama Hen, and I’ve kept a flock of ‘Chickies’ around me that I’ve always felt responsible for, and protective of.

Harry Potter; A Love Story

It was the summer of 1999, my ninth birthday. What was originally supposed to be a double gift for my younger sister and I (our birthdays are nine days apart) became a lifelong obsession for me, and an unused birthday gift for her. Our aunt gave us the first four Harry Potter books; the most grownup books I owned to date. The first time I ever owned a book with a swear word in it (damn), and the first books I’ve read until the lamp burned out (literally, caught the lamp shade of fire one time I was so entranced).
I’ll always remember starting the Philosopher’s Stone. My older sister had a ball game under the lights, meaning it would be a night game and “too late” for me to stay up. I showed them. I started reading Harry Potter out of pure spite that night, because I honestly didn’t think that I would like it, but I was mad I couldn’t go watch the game, so I started reading. And reading. And reading.
I read until my mother and sister came home; I still remember my mom being surprised that I was still awake. I read until the book fell out of my hands, and then I woke up the next morning and read some more.   
Over the years as the books and movies have been released it brings back that initial excitement I had that first night in the summer of ’99. Almost every book and movie has been released around my birthday, maximizing my excitement. All my friends and family know about my love for the series. When I was younger a lot of my gifts had Harry Potter themes. I’ve had a Harry Potter blanket, two puzzles, candy sets, and special screening tickets of new movies.
My love is plain, even on my skin. The first tattoo I received permanently inked upon my skin was drawn by me and influenced by Harry Potter. It says “Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus,” which is the Hogwarts school motto on the front page of all the books. A lot of people thought I was pretty crazy for getting it, but even more people think it’s kickass. A tattoo should mean something, and I think a thirteen (and counting) year obsessing fits the bill.
Two years ago I had the distinct honour of giving my younger cousin the full set of Harry Potter books on his ninth birthday. My aunt recently informed me that for a school project he had to bring his favourite thing to school, and he chose his books. This makes me prouder that words can express. His eleventh birthday is coming up, and I’m going to make him his very own Hogwarts acceptance letter; every wizard gets one on their eleventh birthday.
I used to be a solitary kid, and I kept to myself most of the time. I’ve always been an avid reader, and to the day I always have a book or two on the go. I’m never without a novel to read at night, and I was the same as a nine year old. I didn’t have many friends growing up, I had one best friend and I figured that was all I needed since I had a fairly large family. I read a lot in those days, and as soon as I was finished the Harry Potter series I would go right back to the first book and start them all over again. I’m fairly certain that I’ve read the first four books almost 30 times. They are as familiar to me as my own memories.
I read when I’m sad, I read when I’m bored, I read when I’m happy, mad, sleepy, excited, and depressed. The Harry Potter books are more than just words on paper; they’re an escape into another dimension where anything is possible.


My friends and I, each holding our favourite things. 

“We’re a stubborn bunch in Woods Harbour! We won’t give up!”

Growing up in a small town is hands down the best way to grow up. Side walks? Pssh. Malls? Who needs ‘em. A small town life is the life for me, and at its core are the people and places that make amazing things happen.

Rosalie and Darrell Stoddard are on a mission to upgrade the Woods Harbour Fire Hall, Community Centre, and Young at Heart New Horizons Senior Centre, but they can’t do it by themselves. Through some computer stumbling their new neighbour, B.C. native Alan Daykon, has found the Aviva Insurance Community Fund. The Aviva fund has $1,000,000 to give away, and the Stoddard’s want a piece of that pie.

This is our present hall. It needs help.

In the write up about why the community needs this renovation money, Rosalie writes:

“The Young at Heart New Horizons is a new group of seniors helping seniors. We have a lease agreement, along with the Woods Harbour Community Center for the former Woods Harbour Fire Hall. The building needs a lot of renovations and we are diligently working at getting this done. The two former truck bays on the end of the building need to be torn off as the floor under that part of the building is sinking. We will then put a new end wall up and renovate the roof to match. This will give the New Horizons a 17'x55'room. As you can appreciate this is a costly undertaking. When this is done it will give the New Horizons group a new well lit room with a kitchenette and tables and chairs so they can go any time and meet their friends and quilt or play cards etc. We hold seniors activities such as quilt shows and social events every month. We are trying to get card games and game nights going and we have a volunteer giving computer classes. The community center holds weekly kitchen parties (local musicians) every week, bingo and dances. Any help that we can access would be greatly appreciated. Seniors have been the ones who have built their communities up and now need help with getting out to social events that are geared to their interests. There are a lot of activities geared for the younger generation but not so much for the senior population. We have found that our social events where we provide a lunch and time for them to just sit and talk to ones their own age and renew old acquaintances has been good for all of them. The mingling with people of their own age and talking about the good old days when they were young keeps the mind sharp and the exercise of just getting out every week instead of shopping and the bank once a month keeps them in better shape. We are working on safety programs for the seniors also. We have the necessary building permits and a contractor willing to do the work. The project can start as soon as funding is finalized.”

                                   If you don't know what a kitchen party is, you are missing out!

The Fire Hall is so much more than this! The community uses the Hall for Woods Harbour Days, the annual celebration of our founding, trivia, birthday parties, weddings, comedy nights, auctions, bake sales, breakfasts, queen pageants, baby showers, and of course we use it to house our fire trucks and invaluable fire fighter volunteers.

                             Multiple generations listening to Mrs. Claus during story time

Built in 1973, the Woods Harbour Fire Department was modest and small. The hall was added in 1986, and since then the community has evolved around the hall, to host countless events and milestones.

Since its inception, the hall has brought the community together in ways that bigger towns and cities cannot comprehend. As of late, residents have noticed that a corner of the hall has started to sink, the entire building is in sore need of repair, and the New Horizons are actually hosting their meetings in the old ambulance bay!

“We are really hoping to get a new room built for the New Horizons [with the funding] as well as general repairs to the entire building. We need to update the community hall, New Horizons meeting room, a boardroom for the fire fighters, basically everything. It’s a multi-purpose building,” said Darrell Stoddard.

A lady in the community actually made the Grinch! He's a 6 foot tall stuffy.
"Fraser was trying to get him on the stage, I didn't know who was going to win, him or the Grinch!" -Darrell


Darrel has been a volunteer fire fighter for 44 years, is in the New Horizons, that his wife Rosalie is the president of, and they’re both apart of the community hall.  

“We put on a lot of stuff through the New Horizons. So many people look forward to the meetings each week, and we try to do as much as possible for our community. We put on a ‘wedding dresses throughout the ages’ show, quilting shows, tea socials, and much more. All of it really goes over big!” Darrell exclaimed with a lot of passion and gusto.

“We put on kitchen parties and get local bands to play every Wednesday. People come from all over, from Lockeport to Yarmouth! It’s more than a community hall. It’s a place for everyone to keep traditions alive.”

“The best thing about most of our events are that they’re free. You can give a donation at the door if you want, or bring a snack for everyone, but with so many people on fixed incomes a lot of people wouldn’t be able to participate if we started to charge.”

New technology is great, especially with community initiatives like this one. A former resident of the area, Carl Dixon, put on facebook that he thought the hall needed a piano, and the next morning one was donated! People in small towns just have that much more heart.

                This is a handmade quilt. If you don't own one, then your bed is probably sad.


“We’ve put on a lot of dances and other events throughout the years, and we’ve never had a bad report,” said Darrell with a lot of pride in his voice.

Other than being a meeting place, the hall, first and foremost, is a fire hall! We have amazingly dedicated volunteers, and every third Sunday of the month you can get an all you can eat, whatever you want breakfast, for just $7 to help raise funds for the fire department. Where else are you going to find a deal with a good cause like that?

In the comments section of the contest, locals have put in their heart warming two cents.

Kerrie Bubar writes:

I also totally support this project. Living in a small community, it limits the seniors to have very little access to activities or functions for them. In the few months since this New Horizons group has begun, I am utterly amazed at the happiness of our seniors, not only those in Woods Harbour but they are traveling from neighboring communities to join in the fun (some are in their nineties). It has brought life back to many seniors to know they have something to look forward to. When you can walk into a building full of seniors every Wednesday night and see the toes tapping to the music, smiles on their faces and the friendships that are being made just by being able to get out of the house and meeting with others, it is a wonderful thing to witness. I can only wish for this to be able to continue and it can only be done by getting funding. I am very thankful for this organization and wish it the very best, you by far have brought the people of our little community a lot of laughs and enjoyment and I wish you continued success, I can't think of anything more deserving.”

Carl Dixon writes:

TOTALLY SUPPORT THIS PROJECT IN ITS ENTIRETY! Its a "BIG MUST DO"......The love, fun, joy and excitement experienced by not only the residents (young and for ever young) of Woods Habour as well as many other residents of Shelburne and Yarmouth country in the past few months has been overwhelming....All events since becoming the WHCC have been well attended bringing many local individuals together with...a renewal of friendships and companionship. Just in the past few months this WHCC has given man many people in the area a new lease on life....just seeing the happiness and smiles on their faces tells the whole story. I have lived in Toronto for 34 years and get home to Woods Habour every couple of months...It is pretty amazing the feeling of community involvement and renewed community friendships/ relationships that has been reignited/ renewed since the Old Fire Hall became the WHCC.....Funding must be made available to make the necessary renovations to physically transform the Old Woods Harbour Fire Hall into a safe, user friendly and manageable Community Centre. The well planned and well organized Community events draws people of all ages from Yarmouth and Shelburne Counties...The Directors/ Organizers of the New Horizons Seniors Group and the Woods Habour Community Centre are to be congratulated for all that has been done to date and in this very short period of time in organizing a very successful and well attended events.
The hall needs a lot of help. If we don’t win the Aviva contest, Darrell and Rosalie have been working tirelessly to ensure that other grant funds know of our needs.

“If we don’t win the contest, we have 5-6 applications in for grants with the government with seniors and recreation, environmental, etc. If these don’t work out we’ll find more! We’re a stubborn bunch in Woods Harbour! We won’t give up!”



My first crack at extracurricular creative writing

On The Other Side

Discover Emere's world full of fantastic beasts. This is a children's story intended for young readers to explore their imagination and expand their vocabulary.
In The Beginning
Emere is a dreamer, and he dreamed of the most impossible and fantastic things. In his mind he could see dragons, fairies, and ghosts. He often wandered into the forest and imagined that he was surrounded by his mythical creatures.
The Astomi are small people with hairy bodies, no mouths, and they live off of smelling delicious smells. They surround themselves with lavendar, vanilla, apples, cinnamon, and anything else they can find that gives off a pleasant aroma.
The Balour is a ferocious three headed dragon, who guards a princess and none but the bravest heroes can get past the three fanged fire breathing heads. Greedy people also hunt the Balour because its saliva forms precious gems.
Although Emere could not see Chukwa, he knew that Chuckwa is a giant turtle that supported the world on the back of its shell. Chuckwa has been carrying the world on its back since the dawn of time, and would continue to do so until no one believed in him anymore.  
Dryads are tree nymphs, and every tree has its own nymph to dance with the wind, and create beautiful music through the rustling of the branches and leaves. Dryads only take form outside of their trees with leaves and flower petals; they gather the leaves with the wind created with the branches and they dance outside the trees in the warm sun.
Emere found other children like him, children who could move through their own worlds and this fantastic world of wonderful creatures. They in turn were each called Emere, and he loved them for they knew of this secret world beyond their own and it made him happy.
Fairies dancing lightly from petal to petal, flower to flower, in the eternal dance of the ages. The Fairies live in the flowers, breathe the flowers, and protect the flowers. They also like to play tricks like tugging on the ears of travelers only to disappear when they turn around to see who is there.
A great bird came swooping down from the sky with the razor sharp beak, long graceful wings, and curved talons of an eagle, a head, massive body, and sly tail of a lion. It stood proud and tall in the forest, king of the land and the sky, the Griffin.
Wandering the forests and villages was a beautiful woman with an enchanting voice, and all the princes and heroes fought for her affection. When she had finally chosen one to marry she revealed herself for the old ugly Hag that was beneath the magic and tricked the handsome young man into being bonded to her forever.
Iku-Turso is the lord and ruler of all the seas. With ferocious horns and a thousand tentacles he has all the waters within his grasp.
Jack-In-Irons is a giant who roams the forest with large heavy chains draped across his body and a massive spike club in one hand. He is too tall to see anyone on the ground, so he is terribly lonely because he feels he is the only living creature besides the birds.
Looking up at the sky Emere saw Katsura-Otoko. Katsura-Otoko is the man on the moon, the ruler of the skies, the clouds, and all the stars. You may only see him when the moon is full and your heart is full of faith.
Ladon is the guarder of Hespirides Golden Apples. With shining scales he winds himself around the garden with the body of a snake and the head of a dragon.
The Minotaur is the most feared of all the mythological creatures. He is not the most feared because of its size, because he is only as tall as a man, but the Minotaur has the head of a bull, the brain of a man, amd he is purely evil.
The Night Marchers are the ghosts of fallen warriors who roam the land at night and visit the sites where they died. They re-enact the way that they died for they were proud soldiers who died for a just cause.
A massive dog as big as a house, as black as the night, Orthrus has two heads and four red eyes glared from the gloom. With teeth as long as a man is tall, and a serpent tail as thick as a tree trunk to twist and crush humans.
Of all the creatures Pegasus is the most majestic. With the body of a horse and wings that are more beautiful than an angel's, to ride on the back of a Pegasus is like being in the presence of true pure magic.
Everyone has a Qareen. The qareen are invisible creatures that whisper into your ear what is right and what is easy. Sometimes you will choose to ignore your qareen in lieu of something fun and adventurous but your Qareen will always lead you down the path of righteousness.
The Raven Spirit is a symbol of someone's soul who is no longer on this earth, and their soul is going on the other side. The other side is not something to be afraid of and your Raven will ensure that your soul gets their safely.
The Sirens fancy themselves as angels, as they are beautiful women with large graceful snowy white wings and lovely angelic voices. Although they have the wings and voices of angels they are evil spirits who sit on rocks in the middle of the ocean and sing their enchanted songs to passing sailors who are put under the Sirens spell and crash into the rocks.
Tritons are like mermaids in that they have bodies of humans and the tails of graceful fish. However, unlike mermaids, Tritons are descendants of the sea god Poseidan, ruler and creator of the ocean. Tritons are male and female and they roam the ocean to look for poachers and people putting poison and garbage in their sacred sea.
Of all the mythical creatures none is as famous as the unicorn. Unicorns appear in peoples dreams, in their hearts, in the corner of their eyes. With the body of the most beautiful white horse you could ever imagine and a magical twisted horn, Unicorns are what the imagination is made of.
Vila live in the clouds, the live in ponds, puddles, lakes, and oceans. Vila control the weather. The weather is a result of their emotions, so you have to be very careful not to offend a Vila, because you might have a snowstorm in the middle of the summer.
The White Lady is any woman who has been killed by someone she loves. The White Lady can be seen wandering the forest, with a sad expression and silver ghost tears streaming down her pale face and streaking her ethereal white dress.
A sign, a symbol, an omen. If you see Xecotcovach you may regard it as any of these things. When this small bird appears to you, you will know it on sight even though you have never seen it before and you may not ever see it again.  Xecotcovach is a pure spirit that appears to other spirits it feels is worthy, and it symbolizes good things to come.
The most cunning of all hunters is the Yuxa. Yuxa are 100 year old snakes who turn into beautiful women to lure men into their lairs only to change back into a horrific gigantic snake and feed the men to their many offspring.
The most hunted creature is the Zlatorog, a deer with beautifully intricate golden antlers. Although no one has been successful in capturing a Zlatorog, it is said that if you offer one of the golden antlers at the base of a mountain the mountain will split in two and offer you a treasure of unimaginable proportions.
In The End
Emere dreamed his dreams and will continue to dream for all of enternity. Step into the other side and see what you can dream.

Working or walking?

To those who know me, know that my athletic abilities balance somewhere between amateur and dismal. As hard as I tried, I never quite had athletic prowess. To avoid looking like a fool with my ridiculously flat duck feet while running, I have taken to taking daily walks. Not only as a form of exercise, but also prying myself away from the computer and smelling fresh air.

It’s probably the dorkiest routine ever, but whatever it prevents me from getting diabetes and keeps my ever growing lower half in check.

It may come as a surprise to no one but guys in my general age bracket are pretty… immature, let’s say. What I mean to say is brainless; but immature works. 

But I digress.

So my daily walks are a time to reflect, relax, and sweat and listen to some terrible indie music that interests no one but me. I enjoy discovering new trails, ways around my neighbourhood, perhaps see a cute dog (owner) or two.  For the most part, I thoroughly enjoy my walks.

Fort McMurray has other plans for my relaxing walks.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my neighbourhood. The municipality could literally not have put me in a better home with a better neighbourhood. BUT. And this is a major but. Almost as big as my butt. Guys in this town act like they’ve never seen a girl walk before. Literally. I’m like a new imported phenomenon that no one has ever seen or even dreamt of the concept. I walk. My lady bits walk with me. This is no reason whatsoever to yell at me from your truck, honk at me, turn around and drive by me again, or speed up really fast when you drive by me.

I know what you’re thinking. Oh Joelle that’s just flattery! They think you’re pretty! NO. This is what I have to say to you dear friends. This is not flattery, at all, ever. Whenever I get a lucky break or something good happens to me someone ALWAYS has to say “Yeah it doesn’t hurt that you’re so pretty!” This friends, is not only incredibly frustrating, but very degrading. Sooo you’re saying I got an A+ in that class because I charmed the teacher with my blonde bouncy hair and infallible smile? I got this wicked job and people are really nice to me because I have nice eyes and a funny little cute voice? NO. I work DAMN hard to achieve my goals.

So next time when you think it’s appropriate to yell “Working or walking” to the girl on the sidewalk, for the love of all that is holy please refrain from doing so. You may just be ruining someone’s favourite part of their day.   

Doesn’t every small hick town of every province have a local drug dealer house?

Fort McMurray has a lot of names. Fort McDirty, Fort McMoney, and of course Little Newfoundland. A lot of people have a lot of different opinions on a place where over 100,000 people call home, but do these opinions hold any water?



We’ve all heard it. Fort McMurray is overrun with crackheads, the venereal diseases, and the under educated over paid. Where do these rumours come from? Well let me tell you.

Most of the rumours about Fort McMurray come from those who couldn’t stand to be away from mommy and daddy. People come up here hoping to make quick, fast, easy cash, so they can go back to their home provinces as soon as possible. People don’t take the time to live within the culture (yes, there’s culture!) of Fort McMurray.




The community residents of Fort McMurray are generally nice, kind, considerate, and they have families! I’ve been here for about two weeks and I have yet to stumble upon a crackhead. Now, don’t get me wrong, every community has its troubles. I have no doubt that if you wanted crack, you could get crack. However, isn’t this true of every community? Doesn’t every small hick town of every province have a local drug dealer house? I’m pretty frickin sure it does.



Fort McMurray has over 100kms of trail systems! I walk a lot, almost every day, and I am constantly discovering new trails and parks. The residential areas are amazingly set up so that there is green space, dog parks, playgrounds, and trails absolutely everywhere you go.


I have made friends already in my short time here. Everyone is very welcoming to newcomers, and everyone knows how to make people feel at home. The municipality is a wonderful place to work, with brand new buildings and amazing initiatives simply on improving the quality of life for its community members.



My opinion may change once winter hits, but for right now, I am loving my Fort McMurray 


Mourning Cooper


Please stop reading right meow if you get offended by giggles and the nickname’s Faggot and Pussy Willow for kittens :3

Well this summer is almost over, which means I finally have time to post something on my wayward blog. Sister and I had a fantastic summer with the kittens in the apartment. They really added an element of fun on those nights when trash reality TV wasn’t cutting it for us.

Lazer chasing in the best invention for cats in the world. Whether you have a spry, half wild, crazy insane hyper cat, like Pussy Willow, or a fat, lazy, apathetic cat, like Faggot, there’s fun for the whole family.  
Pussy Willow not only chases lazors, she wants to catch them and destroy them with every ounce of her being. Which isn’t much considering Faggot eats all her food, but I digress. She will chase, Scooby Do scrabble, jump, and use all manners of parkour to attain the impossible.

Faggot on the other paw apathetically and sometimes pathetically will reach out with one little arm and swipe at the red dot so slowly you’d think the lazor was in the shape of a snail. Faggot could care less about your lazor. Sometimes he will Scooby Do scrabble after it but that always ends up horribly with him toppling over and then lay there and is to say “Yeah I fell. I meant to. Now I’m going to have a nap here because I meant to fall. Duh. Eff your lazor nonsense.”

Sister discovered one day that Pussy Willow actually has maternal instincts even though her own mother pretty much rejects her at home. Sister plays a video called “kittens and cats meowing” and if you ever need to know where PW is in the house, oh. my. goodness. Is this the video for you. Featuring a plethora of kittens and cats meowing (exactly as advertised) PeeDubs will meekly scurry out from her favourite hiding spots, under Sister’s bed and the fouton, and will investigate immediately. She will climb on your lap and look around every corner of the laptop for the crying kittens and when she can’t find them settles for rubbing up on the laptop screen and biting the corners.

Snuggles and cuddles and abundant in the youngest Nickerson’s domicile.  Faggot always wants cuddles and gives the epic BRRRRUUPPP when you rub his enormous belly. They say you always gain weight when you go on vacation; so it true for Faggot. He gained about 2 pounds in 3 months making him now weigh in at 17.6lbs.

The other day I had to send the kittens home because finals are coming up and I need to pack and clean up a bit around here before the apartment owners come back for the school year. Catching Faggot takes the speed and agility of a sloth. He’ll pretty much do/go anywhere you want him too. PW on the other hand when INSANE as soon as she heard the ominous squeak on the carrier latch. She quickly hid behind the tires in the porch closet, making it impossible to get at her without removing all the tires and shoes. I got a hold of her and as I tried to shove her into the carrier after Faggot, I got the full fury of a part Maine Coon.  My arms looked like I had turned emo for the day, and Pussy Willow ‘hid’ between the window and the screen in the room effectively making her stationary so I could wrap her in a towel and render her claws useless.
And so ended the kittens city vacation with a quick strap into one of dad’s lobster trucks and they were shipped home.

But not all’s well that ends well.  Apparently Sister and Boy have been mourning Faggot. Not PeeDubs because she hates boys. But Faggot is currently being mourned. Mourned and missed in such a way that only a big, fat, Faggot, can be missed. 

Your Drippy Yellow Mystery Sauce is Like Homemade Heaven

Dear Homemade Fish Burger,

Your toasty outer shell of steak bun delight is like a melty crunchy carb heaven. Your mayo is spread ever so delicately, oozing into every crevice. Your drippy yellow mystery sauce is like homemade heaven, and kraft cannot do you justice. Everyone knows that true mouth-watering tartar sauce is made by your sweet caring mother with the random contents of the fridge.

The sweet crispy lettuce gives you just the right touch of green watery delight. Your perfectly balanced bread crumbs encrusting you in a warm swaddle much like a newborn babe protects your flakey flesh goodness. Fresh haddock is your name, and deliciousness is your game.

Ode to the most underrated of all suppertime meals. You are perfect in every way.  

Sincerely, 

Your Biggest Fan 


“Did he just say Chicago?” “No he said Shag Harbour."

So it’s no secret I come from a hilariously small town with insanely hickish people. As always, we reinforce the stereotype of weird rural accents and localized slang. I wrote about this a bit before in my rural vs. city post but I’m just going to elaborate because it’s fun.

I took boyfriend home this weekend for mother’s day because, according to my mom, “He doesn’t have a mom.” I called mom to ask if Ryan could come down for the weekend and she said, no joke, “What? It’s mother’s day, why would he come here.. ohh wait ya he doesn’t have a mom. Of course he can come.” In reality his mother is in Saskatchewan, not dead, like my mother implied if anyone else had been listening in.

Anyways, we went home and dad was in full work mode because a truck was coming in that had to be unloaded. And he talks so fast and uses so much slang that any outsider would have thought it was another language. Oh wait, someone was there. Boyfriend. I asked him if he understood anything and he said he got the gist. “Did he just say Chicago?” “No he said Shag Harbour."

In true small town fashion dad said Boyfriend needed to work for his supper and took him down to the plant to unload the truck. He met Robert, an old trucker who’s about 65 years old and apparently trucks because he’s bored as hell of retirement. Boyfriend could barely understand either of them but somehow managed to unload a truck full of lobsters into a tank without falling in and drowning.

After the lobsters were safely in their second to last final resting place, we went to the local bar to catch the back end of the hockey game.  I had neglected to bring him to the bar scene, or anywhere in general, in my hometown other than the beach because I truly did not know how he would think of me and my town once he saw the real grit-of-the-earth locals.

I pointed out the local talk spot, aka Swain’s Garage, where everyone parks their trucks they can’t afford, or their super ghetto cars that they think are the shit. We headed down to Dooleys that isn’t Dooleys anymore but no one says the real name because no one knows what you’re talking about. Small towners don’t like change. 

There was about 25 people in the bar, I knew 99% of them of course, and only the true Bruins fans stuck it out to the end. As the excitement built, the people got louder, the slang got worse, and the accent got thicker.

By the end of it Boyfriend couldn’t understand a word but he got the feeling of excitement. I just think it’s hilarious that we have this localized accent that no one else seems to have.

My friend in University msn’d me and said I thought you were behind me one day in class, then I remembered you lived in Ottawa so I knew it couldn’t be you. I heard your voice and accent so perfectly I knew she had to know you. Sure enough it was my cousin and neighbour, also former babysitter, sitting behind her. It just struck me as so funny that our accent is not only recognizable, but unique.

So I say live proud, live loud all you Barringtoner’s, Capies, Cockawitters, and wherever else in between. We may be the last of a generation with our own made up words, and weird Irishy, Bostony, Hicky accents. 

Who knows, maybe we’ll take over the world and show everyone how to shuck a proper lobster (something dad also made Boyfriend do) and how to back a large truck out of a seemingly impossible wharf corner.   

Ottawa, Halifax, Home, Halifax, School

It's been a fast and furious couple of days. On Friday morning I left my wonderful friends Christina and James and headed back to the beautiful East Coast.

Friday morning I was picked up by the one and only Boyfriend, who long story short, tricked me and attacked me with a behind-hug and I screamed/swore so loud I tainted small children around me.

Ryan helped me move into the apartment and I fell in love with the apartment. It's beautiful AND kitteh friendly!

On Saturday I help Beth move out of residence. I got to see my momma, little sissa, big sissa, papa, and KITTEHS all in one day!

Sunday was a flurry of Easter, mom's birthday, cottage, little cousins, big cousins, and all my grandparents. And I got to see Mal and Seth, my favourite couple in the world!!

Monday morning 5am is french toast time apparently. Dad and I bonded over fried bread, corn syrup, and nutella.

Now, momma and I are en route back to the big H for another semester of schooling. Wish me luck.

The End :3 

Rural Nova Scotians vs. Haligonians

I’ve spent a few years in Halifax now, so I think I can make a few comparisons. Even though these are from my own experiences, feel free to share your own.

PS, I know these are stereotypes, and I don’t really care. They’re all basically true no matter what your specific situation may say. This is for the masses.

Rural Nova Scotians are known for being relaxed, easy going, and  they don’t take like too seriously. City folks are a little faster paced, abrasive, maybe a little ruder. But, if you mess with someone from a rural area you will get your ass kicked by everyone and their grandmother, and a city person will just let it roll off their shoulders.

When someone knocks on a rural door we’re going to assume that you’re a stranger and we’ll think it’s pretty odd if we actually know you. When someone knocks on a city door it’s probably their grandparents, who called ahead, and you were aware they were coming hours in advance.

Boyfriend made fun of me for not knocking when we were out visiting my friends and such and I said, “That’s not true, I knock almost everywhere I go now!” He said “Yeah, only because you try the doorknob first.”

Rural dwellers will also think it’s odd if you ask them for something from your fridge. We’re not your maid, get it yourself. If you open a city fridge it’s almost like you’re invading their privacy and their deepest secrets. Also, rural fridges are full. City fridges are not.
Rural Nova Scotians love food, there is absolutely no denying that. Almost every function revolves around food. But they only love the food they grew up with; fish, rabbit, duck, deer, potatoes, carrots, stew, etc. City people are more open to different cultures, different food, and of course more things in moderation.

When someone moves in the country they have all the necessary equipment: trucks, furniture (from every member of your family) and free labour including painting and decorating. When someone moves in the city you need: a u-Haul, a trip to the furniture store, and about 4 days to do it all yourself.

Also, you never know your neighbour in the city but in a small town you know everyone’s business and they know yours. I asked Boyfriend if I could bring a batch of cookies to my neighbours and he said I could but then I’d be the weird girl trying to poison everyone. My nanny came home to unmarked wrapped meat in a plastic bag on her door handle and she had it for supper that night. It turned out to be deer. She lived.

*Update: Boyfriend says that in suburban areas of Dartmouth they’ll have block parties and bbq’s and your neighbours don’t care if you run across their lawn or play street hockey in front of their house.

When someone wants to go to university from the country it’s a big effing deal, and you should probably get praised and asked about it every time you go home. They probably won’t make it all the way and they’ll end up on the water anyway but it’s the thought that counts. When someone goes to university in the city it’s the next natural step in life and they go on to do wonderful things.

We went to my sisters university graduation (I won’t name which but it’s not hard to figure out) and she was the only one from her high school class to graduate on time. The only one. We triple check and she went to two high schools. That’s pretty sad.

Rural Nova Scotians are willing to drive an hour or more just to visit friends, go to a party, go to a movie, go shopping etc. And they never walk anywhere. It’s normal to see a car with 300,000 clicks or more. For city people it pains them to drive 10 clicks out of their way, and if they can walk there they will. And when the odometer runs over 100,000 clicks it’s the end of the world.

When someone from the country tries to tell someone where they live they’ll probably say something like “Yeah when you see the store on your left slow down, you’ll go over a hill and there a log pile on your right and it’s the long driveway after that.” Side note: this is actually how I tell people to get to my house. When someone from the city tells someone where they live they’ll give street names, house numbers, unit numbers, apartment numbers, buzzer numbers, and whatever else super specific directions they’ll need.

Rural Nova Scotians have their own unique slang. You’ll often year sentences like, “Who’s boy am ya? Who’s your dad? Let’s go get a big mug up at the fish shack. I need a Dan’s mug up! Let’s take a tour and have a yarn in my new wag. Yeap like the fella said. Ain’t no way son! Com’on LIKE! Eh? Hiyi! Das say son. I could go on all day but I won’t. The most common slang you’ll here in the city is ebonics. This isn’t offensive, I looked it up.

Rural women typically like “Hungry Men” (see Jade Malone’s full definition http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Hungry%20Man&defid=5714458). And Haligonians love a variety of rural, city, foreign, and the like.

A truck is a thing of pride in rural Nova Scotia and we can and will make fun of your low riding city cars when they can’t make it up our driveways without bottoming out. That being said, city people can make fun of us for filling up a $150 tank and it only lasting us a few days.

Well that’s all I can think of for now, but feel free to comment and leave your own! I’ll probably update it as this blog progresses.
The End :3
 
 
 

Animal Family Tree

The Nickerson Family Animal, and Other Special Occurances, Timeline

Dinner time is a family affair :3 From back to front: Smudgie, Figaro, Cooper

1985 – Joel & Christine get married, Sandy (dog) born 1980, Little Tee (cat) died same year

1986 - Dusty (cat)

1987 – Vanessa is born

1988

1989

1990 – Joelle is born, Sandy died

1991- Frisky (cat), Dusty is missing in action

1992 – Beth is born, Spot (dog)

1993- Mittens (cat), Pepper (cat)

1994

1995 – Babe (dog) Frisky died, Spot died

1996

1997

1998

1999 – Muffin Sugar Frosting (cat) Chloe (cat), Pepper is missing in action

Muffin :3

2000 – Peaches (hamster)

2001

2002 – Gizmo (cat) died the same year, Mischief (cat) died the same year, Peaches died

2003 – Figaro (c) (d. 2010), Jimmy (rabbit), Cotton Ball (rabbit), Chloe is missing in action

Me and my baby Figaro! <3


2004- Mittens died, Jimmy & Cotton Ball died

2005 

2006 – Martha (cat) died the same year, Bear (cat) , Hank (cat) 2007 , Fluffy (cat) died the same year, Smudgie (cat), Babe died


Smudgie likes: bags, baskets, sinks 
dislikes: cuddles, every other animal except Muffin


2007- Hank died

2008- Bear is missing in action

2009 – Cooper the Trooper aka Fatty, Faggot, etc. (cat), Cleo (dog)  

Fatty and Cleo were besties from the start 


2010 – Duke (dog), Special Agent Jack Bauer aka Willow (cat), Norge aka Pussy Willow (cat), Duchene (cat) missing in action, Wolfgang aka Patty (cat) outside cat

                                          Duke!                     Baby kitties Norge, Wolfgang, Duchenne          
Beautiful Willow aka Mama aka SAJB

2011- Duke died, Current count: Muffin, Cooper, Willow, Pussy Willow, Smudgie, Patty is an outside cat (half wild), Cleo (with Vanessa)

That's a grand total of 21 cats and 5 dogs!

Almost every animal we’ve had we’ve either gotten from the SPCA, the streets, or from neighbours who could no longer afford their animal, or their animal got unexpectedly pregnant. The only animal we’ve had that was pregnant was Martha, but she came to us in the late stages of her pregnancy.

We always get our animals fixed, we always encourage people to fix their animals, and we do not encourage animal breeders, puppy mills, etc.

Side note: We’ve had various fish, one Siamese fighting fish, Coral, I had for 3 years, but you don’t really form attachments to fish when you have a literal farm around your ankles. Also, the more we grow up the more animals we seem rescue.

PLEASE spay and neuter your animals. Rescue homeless animals adopt from the SPCA and the humane society. Stray animals are good animals, if they’re not wild, not dangerous, and just a little dirty, they only need some love and they’ll be the best pet you’ve ever had (example: every pet we’ve had!). 

 The eff? 

Lobsters, Dinosaurs, and Aliens, Oh My!

The fossil record of clawed lobsters extends back at least to the Valanginian Age of the Cretaceous.  That means lobsters were homies with dinosaurs!  



Lobsters are invertebrates, with a hard protective exoskeleton. Like most arthropods, lobsters must molt in order to grow, which leaves them vulnerable. During the molting process, several species change color.

This color DOES NOT include bright red. Lobsters turn red after they are boiled, hence why pop culture and the media portrays them as red. Because they’re ignorant and they’ve never packed lobsters at 2am on Boxing Day.

Lobsters can be black, brown, purple, green, grey, orange, and even bright blue!

Why does a lobster turn red when cooked?

The red pigment is the most stable component of the coloring in a lobster shell. The greens and browns which darken the shell in a live lobster are destroyed by cooking.

If you think lobsters are red when they are in the wild and alive you sir are a cotton headed ninny muggins and will be treated as such.



Lobsters, like snails and spiders, have blue blood due to the presence of haemocyanin contains copper. Also, lobsters are very snobbish like societal Blue Bloods and have many servants within their household which they do not treat nicely at all.  



A male lobster is called a cock and a female a hen or chicken.

Berried females carry thousands of eggs attached to their swimmerets. Depending on water temperatures, the eggs will remain attached for about a year on average.  Only .1% of the eggs will make it over six weeks after being dropped.



If a lobster happens to lose a limb in a fight (lobsters have turf wars!), something bigger was trying to eat it, or it amputates a limb in fear of being killed, it was grow whatever limb it loses back, much like a lizard’s tail.

Recent research suggests that lobsters may not slow down, weaken, or lose fertility with age. In fact, older lobsters are more fertile than younger lobsters. It has been argued that lobsters may exhibit negligible senescence and some scientists have claimed that they could effectively live indefinitely, barring injury, disease, capture, etc.



 “Imma chill with dino’s then kick it with post apocalyptic aliens k?”

According to the Guinness World Records, the largest lobster was caught in Nova Scotia, Canada, and weighed 20.15 kilograms (44.4 lb



I’m more interested in looking at the diver meOW!

Lobsters are omnivores, and typically eat live prey such as fish, molluscs, other crustaceans, worms, and some plant life. They scavenge if necessary, and may resort to cannibalism in captivity.  

Because of their scavenging nature lobsters are known as the cockroaches of the sea
In early times lobsters were known as “poor mans food” and only after lobster was popularized it was a constant source of shame to bring a lobster sandwich to work or school.



Now, lobster sandwiches with mayo and onion on toasted bread are a coveted home food! Along with lobster chowder, lobster dip, lobster omelette, and a recipe I’m almost certain my family made up called “crabbies” which were originally made with crab meat but of course we changed it to lobster.

The most common lobster fishing vessel is the Cape Islander! A Cape Island style fishing boat is a single keeled flat bottom at the stern and more rounded towards the bow. It originated on Cape Sable Island, Nova Scotia about 1905. (Various online sources cite years 1905, 1906, and 1907.



The design is most commonly credited to Ephraim Atkinson of Clark's Harbour, Nova Scotia. The other claim to the boat's design is an accomplished boat-builder from Clark's Harbour, William A. Kenney, who is said to have constructed the first Cape Islander entirely from wood in 1905.

This boat can now be seen in use all over coastal Nova Scotia, North America, and the world.

So love your lobster, ever though they will crush your hand into oblivion, stink up your house for eternity when you boil them, your dad needs his special knife just to shuck them (yes, shuck), and they generally don’t even taste that good without being made into something else. Enjoy.

The End :3





Sources
Content: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lobster
Alien: http://www.crtoys.ca/images/neca_avpr_alien.jpg
Lobster: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/photos/uncategorized/2009/01/13/lobster.jpg
Dinosaur:http://www.zmescience.com/wpcontent/uploads/2008/08/papo_velociraptor_dinosaur_toys.jpg
Cadbury : http://content7.flixster.com/photo/11/29/97/11299749_gal.jpg
Cooked lobster: http://www.canada-seafood.com/images/Lobster.jpg
Pregnant lobster: http://njscuba.net/zzz_uw/riggy_lobster_berries.jpg
Elf : http://www.google.ca/images?hl=en&safe=active&gbv=2&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=elf+raccoon&aq=f&aqi=&aql=&oq=
Lobster close up: http://usa.stockfood.com/images-pictures/Close%20Up%20of%20Live%20Maine%20Lobster%20Face-689137.jpg
Lobster under ocean: http://www.bb-films.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/lobster.jpg
Dinosaur: http://herdingcats.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8341ca4d953ef0128760c9125970c-800wi
Large lobster: http://www.diveplanet.co.nz/myimages/milo_1.jpg
Hannibal lobster: http://lobstertube.info/lobsterDM0811_468x521.jpg
Hannibal Lecter: http://www.celeb-soundboards.com/thumbs/hannibal-lecter.jpg
Lobster sandwich : http://www.nypost.com/pagesixmag/issues/20080622/images/food/exclusivedishes/4.jpg
Cape islander: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:YarmouthNS_FishingBoats.jpg
Content: My magnificent random fact remembering mind