Canada’s Next Top Pole Dancer!

Posted on 3/24/2007 by cheesefairy

OMIGOD everybody! the Miss Poledance Canada competition is going to be in Vancouver on March 29th! No, no, no, zip your pants back up, it’s not an exotic showcase. It’s FITNESS. FITNESS, y’all. It’s a way for women to get FIT and explore their sensuality safely. Because swimming is too equipment-heavy and aerobics is so ’80s and you can’t jog in a sparkly bra.

Well of course there are rules. And I am going to select some to share with you.

Rules for applicants:

1 The candidate is of the female gender.
2 The candidate must be at least 19 years of age.
3 The candidate speaks English reasonably well.
4 The candidate is not employed in the pornography industry.

For the contestants, who:

10. Will be advised, assisted and supervised with respect to her conduct and welfare for the duration of the competition.

And for the winners, who:

2. Shall conduct herself with decorum during her reign and shall NOT commit any immoral, illegal or any act or behaviour which, in the sole opinion of the Organizer could bring disrepute, ridicule or contempt to the Miss Pole Dance Canada image and reputation.
3. Will not, appear in print or video pornography during her reign.

Additionally, all must participate thusly:

Disqualification During the Competition

1 Contestants may not wear boots of any kind.
2 Acts of masturbation or other indecent behavior are prohibited.
3 Contestants must have full bottoms at all times, no g-strings.
4 It is forbidden to perform the show nude or partially nude.
5 During the show, the candidate may not converse with the audience.
6 It is forbidden to remove ANY items of clothing even if there is clothing underneath.
7 The art of pole dancing is the center point. Focus on fitness and presentation, not on sensuality. Any sexual suggestion will not be tolerated.
8 There is no touching of the breasts, buttocks or crotch area.
9 Any failure to abide by the above-mentioned rules will result in immediate disqualification.

The Competition

1 The candidate may choose the music for her show.
2 A pole dance show has a maximum duration of 6 minutes
3 The candidate appears in eveningwear for the introductions.
4 During the introductions, the candidate will be interviewed by the host and will have to respond to a number of questions.
5 “Look, dress and act like a lady.”
6 An expert jury will judge the candidates on the basis of presentation, clothing, response to questions, pole dancing performance and technical difficulty.

EXPERT JURY!

No, but seriously, I like number 5 the best. Look, dress and act like a lady. What does that even mean in the context of a National Poledancing Competition?

See Reiko? (allaway at the bottom) Miss Poledancing WORLD is coming all the way from Japan to school you varied-occupation competitors. Look at those muscles. No, no, no don’t look at the shoes, look at the MUSCLES. It’s FITNESS. She is wearing the 5 inch stilletos because she’s a lady.

Oh and also? The prizes are for 1st, 2nd and 3rd, but, “There is additional recognition for Best Pole Tricks and Miss Congeniality.”

1. Best Pole Tricks!
2. Miss Congeniality! She is so friendly to poles!

Y’know, if poledancing works for you and gives you the muscles you always wanted and makes you feel nice about your sexuality, hoorah. No, I absolutely do not think I could do any better. I am certain I would fall off a pole in about .8 seconds, bump my head, get really cranky and need a couple of strong drinks to recover. Plus I can’t even walk in 2 inch heels let alone dance in 5 inchers. But a National (or World) competition of poledancers is a big, horny excuse to put sex on stage. Again – there’s nothing wrong with that, in and of itself, but let’s not pretend it’s about fitness. It’s called POLE DANCING. It’s about PENISES.

Posted in outside, sex | 17 Comments

Mama’s Big Day Out

Posted on 3/23/2007 by cheesefairy

I think it was a year ago when I first heard our premier, Gordon Campbell, announce to the province at large that it was time to Have a Conversation on Health. Ostensibly, he wishes to solicit the opinions of the people whose health is at stake so that he can better direct the crafting of a health care system which serves their needs.

Ha! I’m practising my fancy conversation skills! Because tomorrow I get to participate in a Regional Public Forum and actually join the Conversation on Health. I was randomly selected, says the letter. But this is blatantly untrue. Several months ago I saw one of the many, many commercials advertising – er, public service announcementing – the public forums so I went to the website and put my name and address down. I didn’t know: maybe everyone in the province was clamouring for a chance to attend an Important Democratic Process and I would NEVER get in. Or maybe it was just me – on leave from work and really missing those all-day, free-muffins-and-coffee-plus-all-the-hotel-pens-you-can-steal government meetings. I am guessing the latter as I am not what you call a lucky winner type. I won $500 at pull-tabs in a bar once and have won nothing since. Some might point out that $500 is nothing like going to an all-day government meeting but as the person who is usually in charge of running these meetings there is a certain $500 value in the fact that I can attend this one, eat all the muffins I want because I don’t have to worry whether or not there will be enough and besides, I already paid for them with my tax dollars AND when they can’t figure out how to hook up the laptop to the projector, it’s not my problem!

After I accepted the kind invitation by email I received a package of reading materials to review before the Conversation date. Included in the nice folder is a set of 11 “conversation starters” to read over. 11 topics have been identified as “important health topics” and 11 short papers have been prepared to provide background on these topics. I am going to share them with you in case you have any pressing opinions and then I can Bring More to the Table ™.

Pressures on the health care system
Health care delivery
The Canada Health Act
Primary Health Care
Seniors and Aging
Chronic disease prevention and management
Health human resources
End-of-life care
Emergency departments
Mental health and addictions
Problematic substance use

I am looking forward to my Big Day Out in sort of a sick, troubled way. I like the idea of having intelligent discussions around health care because I do have opinions about all of those topics. I like the idea of participating in democracy. I like the idea of being in a room full of strangers (oh please let them all be strangers) and pounding the tables with our fists. I really like the idea of muffins. But I have a suspicion that the discussions will veer towards the non-productive argument-type (unless there’s an excellent moderator in attendance). Further, I know that the democracy that this appears to be is really just an appeasement. Hmm? Hey, thanks for voting for me again! Oh yes, I was listening. You have some very real concerns. We’re just going to do it this way anyway. And the room full of strangers thing is great for the first hour and then there are 7 more. Hours, that is. The introvert in me (how meta!) who has spent the last 9 months talking to an average of one (1) adult and one (1) infant per day shivers just a little at the thought.

The only thing, in short, that pleases me unequivocably about tomorrow’s plans is the certainty of the muffins and coffee.

And hopefully a bumper sticker or something.

Posted in outside, serious | 1 Comment

Surprisingly Progressive

Posted on 3/22/2007 by cheesefairy

As you all know I have a car now. I drive all over. It’s what I do. And in the car I have a radio (ee ii ee ii O!) so I press the pre-set buttons constantly until music comes. I have:

Rock 101: Always Pink Floyd. I thought I was kidding too, but a scientific survey has revealed that 92% of the time? It’s Pink Floyd. And when it’s not, it’s Queensryche. Ha ha ha. Whoo. I slay me.
CFOX: The FOX ROCKS! Except when it plays too much Nickelback. Sometimes I hear a Rage Against the Machine song there. That’s nice.
The Beat: More. Justin. Timberlake.
Z95.3: I don’t even know – are they still Vancouver’s New Music? More. Justin. Timberlake.
CBC AM: Is it Priya Ramu? Is she scorning someone? I sure hope so!
CBC FM: I use this one to put Trombone to sleep. Only failed once and then I put the radio on Rock 101. Ah, Comfortably Numb. How I have missed you – oh wait, no.
(I realize that the CBC has undergone some radical changes and I have not yet heard any of them. I hope they include firing Grant Lawerence. Dude picks my ass.)
CBC French: World beats!
CITR: UBC radio. Garsh them kids is young!
Co-op: Happy communist manifesti to you!
JACK FM: Yes, usually I end up here. Because GLASS TIGER ROCKS, that’s why, it ROCKS and it will never stop ROCKING.

Yesterday I was toodling along and suddenly I actually tuned in the song that was playing on one of the pop stations. It had one of those “oom-chucka-oom-chucka-oom-chucka” beats that made me think it was probably a dance remix. The woman was singing,

Don’t call me baby
You got some nerve, and baby that’ll never do
You know I don’t belong to you
It’s time you knew I’m not your baby
I belong to me, so
Don’t call me baby

and I thought: hold up. That’s a great deal more ballsy than I’d expect from a dance remix. I mean, here I’ve been hearing Fergie go on about her London Bridge and whatnot (my new theory is she wears British underwear) so my standards are not so high, but I don’t tend to hear so much “I don’t belong to you” as a message in pop music. Quite the opposite actually. It made me smile.

Then I looked it up and it’s some band I’ve never heard of from 1999. Obviously I have not been clubbing lately.

Incidentally, Trombone loves that new Fergie song. A few times in the car I have heard him chortle from the back seat when he hears Ludacris do his funny voices in “Glamorous.” I have determined that Today’s New Music is actually for little kids. It’s boppy, it’s got guys with funny voices and it teaches you how to spell. Obviously it’s for kids.

Posted in music | 3 Comments

Walk Me Through This, Armstrong

Posted on 3/18/2007 by cheesefairy

Yesterday, while I waited for my pasta to cook, I removed the necessary ingredients from the fridge:

butter
milk
hot sauce
cheese

and suddenly noticed what I had not noticed before: a list of ingredients on the cheese wrapper. Milk, lactic whatnot, whey pickles, tonnes of yummy goodness it read. And the last line: May contain colour.

(I should clarify that this was orange cheddar cheese.)

MAY contain colour. Are you implying that it may NOT? Am I to believe that orange cheese is made from milk the colour of a tangerine, a tulip, a turbid glass of lower mainland water after a windstorm? (sorry – I needed another “T” word after the first two.)

Also, if YOU, cheese-selling-dudes, don’t know whether or not there is colour in your cheese? You should either find out, pronto, or lie about it.

Then I drained the pasta, put the butter in, splashed some milk in, a quick dash of flour to thicken things up, hearty glops of hot sauce and as much cheese as I could grate without activating my carpal tunnel syndrome.

The other day, Wednesday, I was out with my mom and cousin. We were talking about stress and anxiety and how we deal; we have family who deals by not eating – too stressed to eat! My cousin said no way – the minute I get the bad news, I look around for something to stuff in my mouth and my mom said, yes, comfort food, very much so, and they asked me what do I do, am I an anxiety eater or an anxiety not eater. I said I didn’t know. But yesterday, as I shoveled the above-described lunch down my hollow gullet, I had a “hammer-to-head” realization about what sort I am.

Thank you for the really nice commiseration and advice around Trombone’s First Big Freakout 2007! (we’re getting t-shirts made) From the depths of hell, I found two things useful.

1. Singing alternate lyrics to Brahms’ “Lullaby” in my head while I hummed and hummed and hummed for 4 days. Because these words:

Lullaby, and sleep tight, hush! My darling is sleeping,
On his sheets white as cream, with his head full of dreams.
When the sky’s bright with dawn, he will wake in the morning.
When noontide warms the world, he will frolic in the sun.

were not doing it for me.

One of my versions:
It’s a phase, it’s a phase
it will not last forever
it means he’s growing and getting smarter
pretty soon he’ll be in school!
It’s a phase it’s a phase
just hold on one more day (sometimes segue into Wilson Phillips here but not often)
it’s a phase it’s a phase
enjoy all that new grey!

and 2. counting my blessings.

Besides internet support, I also received two phone calls I didn’t return (sorry!), a few emails, a beautiful bouquet of tulips, a book, a tear-inducingly-cute pair of baby sneakers, a new recliner and a mei tai.

OK the last two I paid for. But if YOUR baby wasn’t sleeping and YOU were spending hours on end rocking him wouldn’t you think it a blessing if, during the day, you walk past a consignment store and see The Perfect Chair (TM) just sitting there, waiting for you to buy it for a reasonable price? It’s a La-Z-Boy.

my chair

my chair!

It rocks. And reclines.

The second picture features Baby Tad, who restored sanity to Trombone’s wee Freakedout brain with soothing lullabies, played at the press of his (her?) right paw. Foot. Frog thingee.

The Mei Tai came from Coastal Sling Baby Carriers just across the Patullo Bridge from us. We traipsed out and had a very helpful demonstration of Trombone + Mei Tai. He liked it and so did I. This way I get to carry him on my back and he gets to gently stroke the nape of my neck with his delicate fingers.

Ha ha ha ha! I’ll be bald by June!

help!

Posted in cheese, trombone | 6 Comments

It’s a Clear Night. I Stared at the Stars for a While.

Posted on 3/14/2007 by cheesefairy

Would someone please tell me that the baby that has been screaming for hours every night and each time he wakes will only settle for me, no longer for his father, is going to go back to what so recently passed for normal VERY SOON and thus I do not have to wrack my already excessively taxed mind to figure out the quickest way to trade him for a nice crate of wine?

8.5 months old: worst age yet. Discuss.

Posted in trombone | 6 Comments