If I were a boy...

My boyfriend talked me into participating in the My 500 Words challenge which encourages writers to write 500 words a day for 31 days.

My first post in this challenge is...

What I would do if I were a boy

I love being a girl, I really do, but sometimes I genuinely wonder what it would be like to be male. 

If I could be a boy for just a little while, here are the things I would do.

1.Not wear make-up

My morning routine probably only takes about 15 minutes, which is at the low end of the spectrum in terms of morning routine for females.  It should be noted however that this only applies for weekday mornings.  If I am going to a function of any kind, getting ready takes me at least 45 minutes.  Between picking out clothing to deciding on a hairstyle, executing that hairstyle, and then applying my make up, it's a whole production.  If I were a boy, I would absolutely relish the fact that all I'd have to do is wash my face and brush my teeth.

2. Fart

Maybe not in public, but definitely around my friends.  Farting just seems to be a social norm for a lot of guys.  Then again, I could be wrong.  I've been with my boyfriend for three and a half years now, and he is perfectly comfortable farting in front of me, which is perfectly fine.  However, I still do not fart in front of him, nor do I fart in front of my girlfriends.  I feel like that is just one of those things that women cannot do if they want to remain "ladylike" in the eyes of...Well...Anyone.

3. Not worry about shaving

If I were a man, obviously I wouldn't have to worry about shaving my legs or pits.  But, to take it even further, I wouldn't even worry about shaving my face.  That's the thing about being a guy; lots of ladies like the scruffy look.  So, if you're feeling too lazy to shave your beard, women just think you're manly, not lazy.

4. Take off my shirt in public

Full disclosure; I am a sweat machine.  If it were socially acceptable for me to partially disrobe in public, I would probably do it on a daily basis.

5. Pee standing up

Not that peeing sitting down is a huge burden for me - I just want to see what all the fuss is about.  I think it would be pretty cool to use a urinal, too.

6. Write my name in the snow...With pee

It just seems like a lot of fun

7.  Wash my hair everyday

This may seem like a strange one, but as a female with semi-long and very thick hair, washing my hair is a two-hour long production.  Washing my hair involves working through the shampoo and then waiting for the conditioner to penetrate which takes about 20 minutes.  Then drying is roughly a 30-40 minute process.  Then there's the issue of curling or straightening my hair, which is an additional 15-25 minutes. If I were a boy -  specifically a short-haired boy - I would definitely take advantage of the fact that I could wash my hair in the span of just five minutes.

But, I still love being a girl.

I think.

lost at sea

My mother passed away when I was five years old after losing a battle with breast cancer, so throughout grade school I was always looked at by my classmates as “the girl with no mom”.  To my friends - a handful of young girls who were very close with their mothers - it was unimaginable.  

The truth is, I never really thought it was a big deal – partly, I guess, because I was too young to understand and partly because my mom’s best friend whom my brother and I had known our whole lives (and married my dad a years later) took care of us after my mom passed so I never really felt like I was without a mother.

Don't get me wrong, I loved my mother and I miss her dearly, but five years isn't a whole lot of time to get to know your mom, especially when she's sick and confined to her room for about half that time.

As I got older and my friends started losing their parents to illness, I considered myself lucky that I was so young when I had gone through that.  I couldn't imagine having to lose my mom at 23 years old, so I was glad, for lack of a better word, that I had already experienced my share of the untimely loss of a parent.

 It's common knowledge that we will have to bury our parents.  Most of us hope that it will be many, many years down the road, after they've lived a successful and fulfilling life, and we've had our chance to say all that we've wanted to say.  Unfortunately, this wasn't the case for either of my parents.  My father was diagnosed with lung cancer on March 11, 2014 and passed away a month later.

Sunrise April 16, 2014

You assume that when you know a loved one is going to die, you will have the chance to say everything you’ve ever wanted to say to them, but it’s not always so.  Dad died on April 16 but it feels like I lost him much sooner.  His condition deteriorated rapidly and by the time I came to terms with the reality that he would soon be gone, he wasn't my dad anymore.  He had withered away to nothing, he had trouble speaking, and he was confined to his bed.  One afternoon I poked my head in his room to see how he was doing, and he just stared at me as if he was trying to figure out who I was.  He didn't know me anymore, nor did I really know him at that point.

About a year ago, my step-siblings’ father very tragically died of a heart attack.  At that point I decided it was important to take advantage of the fact that my father was still around and that I could still spend time with him.  I started staying home more, going to all of his softball games, and listening to him every day on the radio (he hosted a show on CBC Radio One).  Had I not been hit with that reality check, I think I would have a lot of regrets right now, which is why I hope you will now realize that life is short and you have to take advantage of the time you have now with the ones you love before it's too late.

My dad was often referred to as “the voice of the little guy” on the radio.  He was adamant that everyone had a right to be heard, whether it be the LGBT-Q community, victims of mental illness, or men and women of the fishery.  He was never afraid to say what was on his mind, “politically correct” or not.  He would always tell me “there’s no such thing as bad publicity, just make sure they spell your name right”. 

 He took a genuine interest in things that most people his age didn't have time for. Though he was a veteran journalist, he had a childlike side to him.  Some of his favourite songs to sing along to were, oddly enough,  “Dilemma” by Nelly, “21 Questions” by 50 Cent, and “Mmmbop” by Hanson (to name a few).

He was one of a kind in the best ways.  He was a die-hard Bruins fan, he loved Coronation Street, and he wouldn't eat anything that he didn't like the name of.  When he needed to talk to me, he'd ask if we could have a "chin wag". He got me to put the entire Jerky Boys discography on his mp3 player.

We had this inside joke where we would address each other as "Captain".  Even though my father was never one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, I knew that "Captain" was a term of endearment; it was our "I love you".

I’ve been so overwhelmed with the stories I’ve heard since he’s passed and all of the people who have shared their experiences with him.  I knew his reach was large but I didn’t know how large.

Dad was always so grateful, even for the smallest gestures.  When my step-mom was working long shifts, I would throw on a can of Cream of Mushroom soup for dad before he got home from work so he wouldn’t have to worry about supper, but he’d walk in the kitchen and his eyes would light up as if I just cooked him a five-course meal when all I did was boil some goop on the stove.  That’s the amazing thing about dad; he was so easy to please.  All he needed was a cold can of Pepsi, a bag of Lays, and his family around him to be happy as a clam (he used that expression a lot).

I used to come home a couple of times a week and tell him about stupid grammatical mistakes people at my work would make, like someone using “beneficiate” to mean “benefit”, or using the word “seize” to mean “cease”, and then we’d laugh and laugh and he'd say “well Sar, not everybody can be as smart as us”.

I only recently started talking to Dad about my wanting to become a writer.  He critiqued my first letter to the editor that was published in The Telegram, he read one of my pieces from my creative writing class and gave me some pointers, and he read all of my blog posts and gave me feedback on each one.  Though he’ll never see it if I make something of myself as a writer someday, I’m glad I got to share that little bit of myself with him.

Most of the time, it doesn’t feel like he’s gone, just that he’s on vacation.  My brain doesn’t allow me to think about the fact that I’ll never be able to talk to him; or hear his goofy jokes, or see that mischievous smile.

I was with Dad as he took his last breath; he passed away in his bed, next to my step-mom, my step-sister, my brother, his palliative care nurse, Marie, and myself.  Every now and then a noise will bring me back to that night; I can hear his staggered breathing, my step-sister's voice reading the lyrics to Dad's favourite Leonard Cohen songs, my step-mom's quiet sobs - it just feels like a bad movie that I want to turn off.

 As each day passes, I can feel myself becoming more and more like him, even without having to make an effort to do so.  He was my captain, my hero, and my best friend.  I truly feel lost without him and I hope someday I will make something of myself that will do justice to the Furlong name and that would have made him proud.

Here’s to John Furlong.

spa at the yawnastery

I’ve decided to go in another direction for a change.

This will be my first review.

Last New Year’s Eve in an effort to avoid the inevitable disappointment of an overhyped party, my boyfriend and I wanted to do something different.  We were just looking to relax in a Jacuzzi with some champagne and have a low-key but romantic evening.

Everybody and their mother seem to rave about Spa at the Monastery so we settled on a one-night stay in one of their “luxurious” suites – at $269 a night, it had better be luxurious.

The room that we booked promised the following:

King size bed

Air massage tub

Free Wi-Fi

Cable

Room service until 10pm

Continental breakfast

Spa Vitality level access

monasteryspa.ca

The amenities we actually got to take advantage of were:

King size bed

Air massage tub

Wi-Fi

Here’s a brief summary of our experience.

Since it was New Year’s Eve, we had expected the place to be busy, but we also expected them to be well-staffed in anticipation.  Not so.  We arrived to a dozen or so guests lined up outside the door, a handful of the housekeeping staff swearing and carrying on quite loudly in the hallway (in front of children), and only one staff member behind the desk to provide check-in for the guests and to man the phones.

After a 25-minute wait, we got to our room (which was no bigger than any average-sized hotel room; it was not a suite by any means) to find flickering ceiling lights, cupboard doors falling off their hinges, and no cable TV.  Rather than calling the undoubtedly stressed woman at the front desk – who probably didn’t know much about fixing the cable to begin with – we decided to be proactive and make the best of a semi-crummy situation.  My boyfriend drove home to get his laptop and an HDMI cable so that we could connect the laptop to the television and watch Netflix while I called down to the front desk for the Wi-Fi password.  After two of my calls went unanswered, the woman at the front desk finally picked up only to bark the Wi-Fi password at me.  Okay, she’s busy, I get it.

They decided to change my name for me.  How thoughtful.

Around 6:30 we perused the room service menu but found nothing particularly appetizing — especially not at the prices they were charging.  We were going to venture to Tim Horton’s to grab some bagels when we realized it was New Year’s Eve and everything in the city had been closed since 6:00.  No big deal, room service is open until 10pm; we would not go unfed!

My boyfriend called down to the front desk to place an order for room service and found out that the café had been closed all day.  Really?  During one of the busiest times of the year? When the entire city shuts down at supper time.  Really??

We managed to find an open gas station and had to resort to boiling Mr. Noodles in the coffee pot in our “suite”.  I wish I was kidding.

We never did receive any information about the continental breakfast nor access to the Spa Vitality room that we were supposedly entitled to, but we weren’t about to bother the woman at the front desk again.

After a few stern e-mails to the manager a few days later, I did manage to get a partial refund, but I still don’t believe the stay was worth the amount of money I ended up paying.

The moral of the story is: if you’re looking for a stress-free night out, stay away from Spa at the Monastery and Suites.  They’re overpriced, unprofessional, and they do not put their guests’ interests first.   

I know it sounds like this is maybe only a one time deal and perhaps I’m overreacting.  After all, if it hadn’t been New Year’s Eve and we were able to go out and get something to eat, it wouldn’t have mattered if room service had been open or not; and we probably would have been able to access the Spa Vitality room if we had just asked about it.  But after explaining my ordeal to a handful of friends and coworkers, I’ve learned that I’m not the only one who has been less than impressed with their experience at Spa at the Monastery. 

A co-worker of mine took her mother there for a massage, hoping for a relaxing experience to melt some stress away.  Upon arrival, they were handed worn-out robes that were stippled with tiny holes and then spent the hour being massaged in a frosty room because the masseuse didn’t know how to work the thermostat. 

The Spa has also been sued by a woman who sustained chlorine burns in one of the hot tubs in the Vitality room, to which the owner replied “I'm the owner, I'm not a chemical expert.”

cbc.ca

Again, if you’re looking for a night out, steer clear of Spa at the Monastery and Suites.  Your money would be better spent on bottled air.

think before you ink

In the 19^th century, tattooing in the Western world was widely associated with sailors and criminals.  They served as a means of both identification and punishment.  Now in the 21^st century, tattoos have become a mainstream part of global fashion, especially to teens and young adults.  What was once viewed as a form of deviance is now an acceptable form of expression.

The problem with the trend of tattoos growing amongst the younger generation is that their lack of life experience (and sometimes common sense) is driving them to get tattoos that are poorly executed, not well thought out, and done by people who shouldn’t be tattooing.

If you’re thinking about getting a tattoo in the near future (or ever), you should answer these questions for yourself first:

Is this something I’m going to like in 5-10 years?

It’s true that by the time you reach your golden years, you may not be able to recognize your tattoos or remember why you got them, but you don’t have to think that far ahead when deciding whether or not to get one.  You do, however, have to figure out whether or not you will still love it in 5 or 10 years.  Chances are if you’re choosing lyrics from a song that has just premiered on the radio; you won’t like it in 5 years.  If it’s a symbol from the show you’re currently binge-watching on Netflix, you’re probably not going to like it in 5 years.  But hey, that's just one girl's opinion.

flavorwire.com

Is there a tattoo better suited for this part of my body?

Not everybody feels this way, but I believe there is a finite number of tasteful places on your body to get inked.   If you decide to get a tattoo in one of these spots, know there’s a possibility that you may think of another tattoo that you want in that spot instead, a month or two after you’ve already gotten inked.

Part b: Will it stretch?

Be careful if you ever plan on having a baby (or gaining weight) that your tattoo is in a spot that won't be affected.  Those of you who are into short-term weight loss workshops should be extra careful, as your weight probably tends to fluctuate more so than most people’s.  It can really mess up your tattoo.

Will my career choice be hindered?

No matter how badly you want a tattoo, it’s important to think ahead and make sure that this tattoo, whether it’s the place you get it, the actual image, or simply having a tattoo, is not going to come back to bite you in the future when you try to apply for your dream job.  No ink is worth forfeiting your dream job. 

senseslost.com

Did you choose the right tattoo artist?

Sadly enough, there are hundreds of bad tattoo artists or “scratchers” who are tattooing out of their basements and giving people poorly-executed tattoos and sometimes infections.  The two factors that seem to persuade young people to choose these less-experienced tattoo artists are the high prices charged by most tattoo studios and the amount of waiting time before tattoo appointments with reputable studios.  Trust me, I’ve been there, so heed my words: choosing to get a tattoo out of somebody’s basement for the sake of saving a few months’ wait can result in a) having to walk around with a terrible tattoo on your body until you can get into a real tattoo studio get a cover up, and b) a nasty infection.  Most scratchers operate in unsanitary conditions with unsanitary equipment.  They don’t use gloves, stencils, or sterile needles and most of them can’t draw worth a damn.  Say no to scratchers.

Have I really thought it through?

There are no guidelines for how much time one should think (and rethink) a potential tattoo before actually going through with it, but maybe there should be.  My first tattoo was thought through for over seven years and each tattoo after that, I’ve mulled over for at least six months.  If you’re old enough to get a tattoo, you’re old enough to understand that people change their minds more often than they change their underwear.  A great idea one day may not be a great idea the next.

Am I doing this on a whim?

If you are, don’t.  If you’re getting a tattoo because you just started hair school and you want a giant pair of scissors on your arm to show off how proud you are of your new chosen profession, don’t.  If you’re getting a tattoo because you saw Miley Cyrus in Vegas and loved her performance and now you want Miley lyrics on your back to show your new found love for her, don’t.  If anything, the sole fact that the only way you could get a tattoo on a whim is to go see a scratcher (due to tattoo studios’ long waitlists) should convince you not to do it.

Will this tattoo be unique to me?

We’ve all seen the “love infinity” tattoos and the feather breaking off into a flock of birds, and yes, they’re pretty, but you know how embarrassing it is to go to prom in the same dress as somebody else?  Well, imagine how much worse it would be if you couldn’t go home and change.  No matter how cute you might think angel wings on your back might look, or how much “love hurts” applies to you during this moment in your life, steer clear of tattoo clichés.

tattoostime.com

 Am I doing this for someone else?

For the love of Kat Von D, do not get your boyfriend’s name tattooed on you.  This should be common sense, but the number of people who end up back at the tattoo shop a few months later trying to get “Brad” turned into “Bad Girl” is climbing.  There are other ways to show love!  Getting a tattoo for someone else can mean more than just getting a name tattooed.  Some people get tattoos out of jealousy and even for revenge.  If someone calls you a poser because you told them you like Led Zeppelin, don’t get a Led Zeppelin chest piece to prove them wrong. Just, don’t.

  

Why am I getting it?

For anyone who already has a couple of tattoos, you’ve probably answered a hundred questions about them.  There are three key questions that usually come up.

“Where’d you get it done?”

“Did it hurt?”
“What does it mean?”

The first two questions are pretty straight forward, but the last one is what usually leads to judgment.  If you got a tattoo of a heart simply because you like hearts and you don’t care who knows it, that’s awesome!  Tattoos don’t always have to have profound meaning.  But, thinking about how you would explain the reason behind a particular tattoo will help to figure out what it will mean to you (if anything), and therefore, if it’ll be worth it.