Tag Archives: Mental Health

I Can Change, I Can Change, I Can Change, I Can Change

I love you, James Murphy.

Tell me a line
Make it easy for me
Open your arms
Dance with me until I feel all right

It’s good in the dark
Good in the dark
But into the lover’s light
Here comes another fight

So ring the alarm
Ring the alarm
Bar me and hold me and cling to my arm

Here it comes
Here it comes

And what you’re asking me now
Disastrous now
Hoping and hoping and hoping the feeling goes away

Never change, never change, never change, never change
Never change, never change, never change
This is why I fell in love

Never change, never change, never change, never change
Never change, never change, never change
That’s just who I fell in love with

This is the time
The very best time
So give me a line
And take me home
Take me over

But dashing the hopes
Dashing the hopes
And smashing the pride
The morning’s got you on the ropes

And love is a murderer
Love is a murderer
But if she calls you tonight
Everything is all right
Yeah, we know

And love is a curse
Shoved in a hearse
Love is an open book to a verse
Of your bad poetry
And this is coming from me

But I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change,
If it helps you fall in love

I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change, I can change
If it helps you fall in love

Turn on the light
Make it easy for me
Fill the divide
Fumble in the kitchen ’til it’s right
What an awful sight

But there’s love in your eyes
Love in your eyes
Love in your eyes
But maybe that’s just what your lover finds all night

I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change, I can change
If it helps you fall in love

I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change, I can change
If it helps you fall in love

And I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change, I can change
If it helps you feel real love

And I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change, I can change
If it helps you fall in love

Tagged , , , , ,

The Roo Done Did Me In!

After a week of feasting my senses on the cosmic insanity that is Bonnaroo, I’m back in Toronto. I like it here, I think. Seems a bit drab, but after all, it’s home. I’m still shuffling and reshuffling the deck of cards I wrote my memories on, piecing together Polaroids and little snippets of songs. I’m in a daze. Sylvia just took a short video of me and this is what I look like:
 

I can’t find my camera but I have been able to track down a couple of images that illustrate the severity of this year’s Bonnaweird levels. See?

Look, a Unibaby! Since the elven folk over at Little Hippie were kind enough to take this photo for us, I will share their Facebook page with you.

And this … well … I don’t know what to say about this one. It was seven am … Umphrey’s McGee was jamming hard … and … some things happened. No one understands what, exactly, led to this photo being taken. No one understands why I gave my PHONE NUMBER to the guy flashing peace signs in the back of the shot. But I did, and that’s how I acquired this photo.

Peace and Love,

Sarah “Two Hot Dogs One Bun” Cynthia

Tagged , , , , ,

Bonnabyeeeee!

Goodbye, goodbye, I’m sailing away to Tennessee to see some bands, knock off a few brain cells, and commune with my furry brethren. See?

It was at Bonnaroo last year that Sylvia and I first fell in love. The drive down was a daisy chain of laughter and fun, and our whole experience at the Farm was vibrantly coloured by our newfound infatuation: each other. Thus it is with greatest sadness that I part from my beloved Syl for a whole week; she simply shan’t be coming to Roo this year! After all, someone has to earn some money around here!

So in honour of my friendiversary with Syl, I thought I’d share some honeymoon pics. These are all from Roo 2011. More to follow upon my return. For now my darlings, feast your eyes on these beauts …..

 

Syl messing around with Gary. I’m not sure it’s water in that Camelbak.

 

Sometimes what you need to stumble upon at seven am is an impromptu dubstep party!

 

Now that I think of it, this was the first time I’d ever encountered a Spirit Hood. Funny how much things change in a year, non? PS: I still love you Tim. You, and your moustache.

 

Gary about to go shank a bitch.

 

Some Roo freaks and geeks.

Love you all and promise to keep you at least sporadically informed of my … activities …
xoxo,
Sar
Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Hole

Humans are habitual beings, it is a part of the condition we all live by. Often this means we repeat bad habits, or actions that do not serve us or our journeys well. The beautiful thing about self awareness and open mindedness is the ability it lends us to evolve and make changes, regardless of how insurmountable this challenge may seem. A friend of mine sent this my way recently, I do not know who the original author is… but I love it.

Sylvia “We-all-have-our-holes” Stout

DAY ONE
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I feel lost…I feel helpless.
It isn’t my fault!!
I’m not responsible.
It takes forever to find a way out.

DAY TWO
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m back in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
I don’t feel responsible.
It still takes a long time to get out.

DAY THREE
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in……it’s a habit.
But my eyes are open, I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I am responsible.
I get out very quickly.

DAY FOUR
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

DAY FIVE
I walk down a different street.

Tagged , , , , , ,

Focussss …

This useful illustration comes care of my father, a gifted practitioner of quietude and mental peace. He’s similar to Syl’s dad in that he denounces most New Age practices as flaky (or perhaps as “voodoo”), but when he sits silently in the yard, contemplating birdsong and watching the grass grow, I know that whether he’ll admit it or not, he is meditating.

It doesn’t really matter what we call these periods of mental and emotional rest. It only matters that we do whatever it takes to make sure we have them. Right??

I will attempt to remain,
Peacefully yours as I prepare for my first night at my new job,

SC

Tagged ,

The Plastic Problem

I don’t care how rich you are, or pardon me… how rich your husband is… if you have nipped, tucked, and injected enough plastic into your face to look like a carp I could fish out of the sea – I am simply not going to be able to take you seriously.

Allow me to expand: I take no issue whatsoever with plastic surgery as a concept or a general practice. In fact, I think some plastic surgeons have achieved great success in tastefully remolding the human body. If you have always wanted a nice, juicy rack because you have suffered self consciously at the hands of your AAA cup size since puberty, knock yourself out. I get it. Trust me, in the past I have even flirted with having the procedure myself.

Just look at Ashlee Simpson’s rhino and mentoplasty (nose and chin reshaping, respectively) – Not that there was anything wrong with her appearance to begin with, but I believe her beauty certainly improved with a couple of subtle and tasteful surgeries.

A little plastic surgery can go a long way, and that is my point.

What disturbs/fascinates me is when women (and men!) take it too far. If you look like you are fresh off the boat from Neptune, you’ve taken it next level, and maybe it is time to reflect upon the deeper, psychologically based reasons why you feel the need to completely PVC-ify your face. (Images below in consecutive order: Donatella Versace, Michaela Romanini, Heidi Montag, Jackie Stallone (hahaha)!!)

Here is what I believe to be a fair and relevant comparison: There is nothing at all questionable in the desire to gamble on a reasonable scale once or twice a year; to hit the strip in Vegas, Atlantic City, or Niagra (ew), and risk some of your hard earned money on a night or three of frivolous bets and fun. But there has to be a limit, no? If you are frittering away your salary or your family’s nest egg on blackjack, poker, and slots (whatever your poison may be), that’s an entirely different can of worms.

I believe that plastic surgery can be just as habit forming and addictive (big word – massive connotations, I know) as gambling.  Except the draw it that it is your face. Yes, that thing you present first and foremost to the world. That thing people look into to find out more about who you are, and what you are all about. Plastic surgery addiction is a serious matter rooted in poor self esteem and sense of self worth often linked to Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD) which you can read more about here. What can start out with one ‘corrective’ surgery can lead in some cases to a completely skewed conception about what it means or takes to be ‘beautiful’ in the framework of society’s preconceived ideals.

I work at a high end restaurant in the city and I have never seen so much PLASTIC in one place in my entire living, breathing life. I was serving a table the other day and I had to consciously and purposefully stop myself from gawking at this fifty-something woman, clearly trying to look like her twenty-something daughter who was sitting at the same table. I almost had to place my index finger under my chin and push closed my jaw which was damn-near resting on the tabletop. What is the longest possible amount of time you can stare at a person before it crosses the line of being rude, intrusive, or creepy? 10… 20 seconds? Whatever the standard, I surpassed it.

There are greater evils at play here though. I can’t very well only scold the player, I must also call attention to the game. Western society and culture seemingly value youth above all else. This is especially (and arguably almost exclusively) the case when it comes to women in particular. Even if it is a self-fulfilling prophecy, women tend to believe that they decrease in overall beauty, and therefore value, as they age.  Wrinkles, sagging tits, loose skin… “gross!”. Who knows, maybe I will feel the same way about myself one day. The ideals of beauty have certainly been indoctrinated into all of us to an almost inescapable degree and since a very impressionable age, after all.

Regardless, I think it is better to age naturally and with grace, because at the end of the day plastic looks like plastic; man made and unnatural. Who knows, maybe one day most humans will look like Donatella, and thus our realities will alter to fit this new “ideal” into the framework of normalcy, but in the meantime I will continue to argue vehemently that there is another way: Nature’s way and the way of genetics.

– Sylvia “Save-the-Plastic-for-the-Bags-and-Try-to-Love-What-Ya-Got” Stout

Tagged , , , , ,

Shirtcocking

Over brunch this morning at the Drake, while sipping our much needed Caesars and mowing our Benedicts, we discussed with great hilarity the phenomenon known as shirtcocking. I have actually experienced a shirtcocker in the flesh, unfortunately for me, many years ago while riding the very busy 501 across town. Quel sue-prise.

The streetcar was stalled at Leslie, and from my seat in the back I could hear a commotion taking place at the ‘cockpit’. (Pun most definitely intended.) A man — I want to recall him as being homeless although it is entirely possible he was just your run of the mill weirdo — was trying to pay his fare to the driver who was demanding the man exit the car immediately. “You can’t ride the streetcar like that, sir, please step off.” At first I didn’t even bother investigating; as not much is worthy of such an effort on the wretched albeit at times entertaining 501.

My attention only piqued when the man refused the driver’s demands for immediate departure, and began vehemently defending his right to ride the streetcar as he was. I could only see part of him from where I was seated so I leaned sideways in my seat and had a gander. My first thought was, “What the fuck is the hold up here, he seems fine to me.” However,  as my eyes scanned the vagrant from head to toe, I realized abruptly what the issue was. He was wearing a collared shirt, perhaps even a jacket, but that was all. No pants, no underwear, and apparently little regard for the societal requirement that at all times when in public, we wear at least one of these things, if not both. This man was getting his shirtcock on.

The thing about shirtcocking, is that is catches you off guard; startles you abruptly into looking directly at a man’s bits with little to no prior warning. Blatant public nudity would be more forgiving because at least your brain can immediately register the offense, but with shirtcocking you almost feel like the asshole with your pants caught around your ankles. I am interested to know who else would agree with this, but a penis and balls out and about without context is a bizarre and oftentimes unsettling sight.

Of course at the time I had no such name for this shirtcockery. It was Sarah who brought to our attention that the term had some early linkage to the Burning Man festival. Burning Man welcomes individuals from all walks of life, and freedom through self expression is encouraged in every form. Except one. While at Burning Man, thou shalt not shirtcock.

Seth Stevenson wrote an article about Burning Man for slate.com that you should read here. The following excerpt highlights the ardently frowned upon act of shirtcocking at the festival:

“There was, however, one form of nudity that everyone seemed to agree had no place within the Burning Man community. This is the type of nudity known as “shirtcocking.” Shirtcocking is when a man wears a top but is naked from the waist down. I have also heard this look referred to as “the toddler,” or “Porky Pigging.”

For reasons that are hard to fully explain—if you’ve witnessed the phenomenon you know this is true—shirtcocking is disquieting to the observer’s soul. Visually disturbing to an extreme degree. People at Burning Man are so averse to shirtcocking that I saw several posted signs vehemently denouncing the practice. And yet there were shirtcockers.”

So maybe the man trying to board the TTC that fateful day was neither a homeless man, nor a garden variety weirdo, but a harmless shirtcocking exile from Black Rock City.  In any case, this observer’s soul was disquieted.

Rock out with your cock… in,

Syl.

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

They’re both hungry…

A Cherokee Legend:

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

Tagged , ,

Monogamy?

We were perusing the Hairpin this morning and found this interesting advice column about a couple living in a non- monogamous relationship. Monogamy and the discourse that surrounds it, has become a hot button issue in the past few years. What with the divorce rates soaring and the release of non-fiction literatures such as Sex at Dawn and The Ethical Slut – which stand on occasion to question and challenge what we think we know about the weight of biology and socialization when it comes to monogamy – it is not surprising that more and more people are yearning to discuss these matters. We have included an excerpt from the interview here, but please shove over to The Hairpin to read the full article.

What’s the payoff to avoiding monogamy?

A NON-MONOGAMOUS LADY: Why don’t we start by casting our minds far, far back to the world of monogamy?

A NON-MONOGAMOUS DUDE: Time travel!

ANML: Flashback!

ANMD: Wavy lines!

ANML: Why didn’t monogamy work for you?

ANMD: I liked monogamy! In retrospect, it’s comforting in that it is possible to not discuss a lot of complicated feelings about your relationship, and you can enjoy a comfortable, loving union whilst minimizing territorialness and jealousy.

ANML: “Comfortable” being the operative word.

ANMD: Yes. It’s comfortable. Unfortunately, in my experience, comfortableness often becomes complacency. And as the relationship persists, it becomes unhappier by barely perceptible degrees, and I find myself becoming discontented — though I’m not sure exactly why — and I get to a point where I feel that my relationship is being held together by inertia alone. I take my partner for granted, I get taken for granted, and we’re doomed. I have a feeling that monogamy may play a substantial role in this degradation.

ANML: It may! Is it my turn now?

ANMD: Lay it on me, co-skipper.

ANML: My experience with long-term monogamy was similar to yours. I didn’t hate being monogamous, and I didn’t have a hard time staying faithful or anything. For me, it wasn’t so much that I hated monogamy — it was that I LOVED being single. It was a complete amazement to me, how much I loved being single.

ANMD: You had been in a relationship for a long time, so singledom must have been quite a revelation.

ANML: It was like night and day. I loved flirting. I loved one-night stands. I loved the feeling that life was full of endless possibility, and that on any given day I might have a threesome, or go home with a stranger from a karaoke bar, or hitch a ride on the back of a Vespa and then kiss the driver.

Finish the full article here.

 

Tagged , , , , , ,

Six

neato!

http://six.pen.io/

Tagged , ,

Pvt. Wars — Made Public For Our Entertainment and Edification

Last night we went to see a great play. Pvt. Wars, written in 1979 by James McLure, tells the story of three Vietnam War veterans: Gately, Natwick, and Silvio. Patients in an army hospital, they have various physical and emotional wounds. The Red One Theatre Collective’s production stays mostly faithful to the script, altering only a few lines — those that reference 1970s pop culture — in order to create a more timeless, relevant piece.

Red One members Benjamin Blais (Gately) and David Reale (Silvio), along with Joe Dinicol (Natwick), are young Toronto actors at the top of their game … they’re kinetic and intensely alive, inhabiting their characters in the most organic way imaginable, and clearly enjoying themselves immensely. They’re pretty agile, too, which is a blessing given the very limited stage space they are afforded. The Department, on Dundas West at Beaconsfield, is a smallish gallery, but following some unexpected venue woes, it became a godsend for the production. The space works surprisingly well; the show is performed in the round and at very close range, lending a sense of immediacy, and hilarity. Just don’t stretch your legs while sitting in the front row: you may inadvertently trip Reale as he storms past in his satin bathrobe and work boots, crotch-grabbing maniacally as he goes.

Throughout the play, bits of important information are gradually revealed to us. But most of the backstory is still shrouded in mystery, so it’s largely up to the characters themselves to elicit and hold our interest. The compelling script, combined with the strong cast, achieves this. There’s a lot of veering back and forth between the crass, the humourous, the profound. Overall I’d say Pvt. Wars is a comedy … maybe … I guess? But it’s overlaid with poignancy, longing, and loss. Regardless, there’s no fat left on the show; it’s all been trimmed off. What remains is short, sharp, and snappy. When the show was over, my first thought was, “Already??”

I left feeling inspired by the actors — their passion and ingenuity, their maverick attitude towards theatre. By all appearances, Red One operates on a shoestring, but they do it with style, which I admire. Available at the shows are dog tags customized with the name of the show and the date, for a suggested donation of $2. I thought this was a creative way to solicit donations for a very DIY collective. Also, I bought five of them, deftly demonstrating one of the Cardinal Rules of Swag: human peoples like shiny things!

Pvt. Wars shows twice nightly through Saturday the 25th at The Department (1389 Dundas W)

Tagged , , ,

Cinnamon Challenge

For more about the Cinnamon Challenge go here.

Tagged , , ,

30 Things to stop doing to yourself

I found this article on Marc and Angel Hack Life in a roundabout way, (it is a great Blog previously unknown to me), and realized in a flash that it was exactly what I had been looking for, albeit not consciously. Funny how these things happen to us sometimes. The whole blog offers tidbits of inspirational advice, but this post consists of standards of action all of us really should adhere to everyday and most of us probably could stand to be reminded of. I have included the three that resonate most profoundly with me (written by Marc), but check out the complete list here, it is worth the five minutes.

Stop focusing on what you don’t want to happen. – Focus on what you do want to happen.  Positive thinking is at the forefront of every great success story.  If you awake every morning with the thought that something wonderful will happen in your life today, and you pay close attention, you’ll often find that you’re right.

Stop wasting time explaining yourself to others. – Your friends don’t need it and your enemies won’t believe it anyway.  Just do what you know in your heart is right.

Stop spending time with the wrong people. – Life is too short to spend time with people who suck the happiness out of you.  If someone wants you in their life, they’ll make room for you.  You shouldn’t have to fight for a spot.  Never, ever insist yourself to someone who continuously overlooks your worth.  And remember, it’s not the people that stand by your side when you’re at your best, but the ones who stand beside you when you’re at your worst that are your true friends.

Tagged , , ,

Die Antwoord – Umshini Wam

Here is a short video by Die Antwoord, a freaky deaky hip-hop duo from South Africa. Ninja and Yo-Landi are BFFs. Some parts of the video are NSFW.

Tagged , , , , , ,

Word up

Forelsket is a Norwegian word that does not have a direct English translation. The closet English phrase is “New Relationship Energy” or NRE, which describes the euphoric state that one experiences upon first falling in love with another. Butterflies are aflutter in your belly anytime you think about, see, or hear this persons voice, you wear a dopey, mindless perma-smile like this season’s hottest fashion accessory, everything in the world is alight with positivity, the cute and affectionate couple at the grocery store checkout become your secret accompli, not your worst enemies, time can quite literally stand still while you spend hours in the bedroom, kitchen, living room, naked and joyful… just the two of you. Ooey-gooey, blissful, pins and needles LUSTLOVE. YES PLEASE!

Tagged , ,

The Zen of Drinking Alone

This is an interesting and thought provoking article from Modern Drunkard Magazine about the art of drinking alone. I was always taught that drinking by oneself is a dangerous habit to form, and then to follow a list of negative personal attributes and risks associated with such behaviours. However, I was also taught, more importantly, to form my own opinions and I have to agree that occasionally hitting the bottle solo, has for me at least, proven a valuable experience. The article is worth a read either way:

“What’d you get up to last night?”
“Got wicked drunk.”
“Yeah? Where’d you go?”
“I didn’t go anywhere. I drank at home.”
“You had a party and didn’t invite me? Who showed up?”
“No one. I got drunk by myself.”
“No shit? What’s wrong, man? You wanna talk about it?”

do wanna talk about it. Not about what my friend wrongly assumed was the dark motivation that would drive me to drink alone, but the very act of drinking alone.

Somewhere along the line people got the idea that solitary boozing is a sure sign that the drinker is about to slip over the edge into something dark and sinister, whether it be suicide, skid row or a staff position at a drinking magazine.

To Continue drinking reading click here.

Tagged , , , ,

7:51 Well Spent

My favourite part is in the comments:

“I have $20 says all the people in this video vote Republican.”

Tagged , , , , ,

“When you love someone you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships.”

– Anne Morrow Lindbergh

words of wisdom

Tagged , , , ,

Haunting

Old news, but this still haunts me. This man was stuck in an elevator for 41 hours. I think we can all form our own opinions here. The full article is below.

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/04/21/080421fa_fact_paumgarten

Tagged , ,
%d bloggers like this: