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The Skinny on gettin’ skinny(ish)

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I wasn’t going to blog about Weight Watchers. It’s not that I’m embarrassed per se — I’ve blogged about weight loss  and exercise before — it’s mostly that blogging about it draws attention to my weight (which, obviously, if I don’t say it aloud people will totally not notice, right?). And discussing weight loss means you all know my goals, and then [potentially] will know my failures.

My brain=therapy gold mine.

But I’m two days into the program, and I feel compelled to over-share.

Here’s how it works – they take your age, sex, height and weight, and come up with some magical formula for the number of points you get to eat in a day. The draw of points is that you can theoretically eat whatever you want, you just have to count it. (veggies=0, Big Macs=something like 14 points).

The result is that you think about food all the time.

On the positive side, it forces you to measure everything and find ways to reduce the amount of something you’re consuming (do I really need 2 Tbsp of pesto in this dish? How about 1?) and to cut out of popping food into your mouth when you’re cooking or scavenging in the fridge.

But it also means I’m spending the day thinking about how I’m going to use my points — like a kid getting an allowance trying to figure out the best thing to spend the limited funds on.  Last night I found myself googling nutrition guides for frozen yogurt brands and restaurants.  I was plotting, planning. I made a spreadsheet.  I texted my friend who convinced me to join the program with her.

“What did you eat today? How many points do you have left? Are you going to make it?”

It’s madness.

The other trouble with the system is that healthy doesn’t always mean fewer points (despite their advertising).  I can have a salad for dinner and then use up my points on chips, or I can cook a proper meal with whole grains and beans and blow my quota.

But I guess it will be finding the balance. In a week I’ll either be thrilled or cursing the damn thing.  Maybe I’ll moonlight as a bookie and take your bets.

The country has gone to the dogs: An Explanation of Voting Cats v. Dogs

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The insightful things commenters post

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It’s always nice to get such well thought-out feedback on my work.

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Slutwalk 2011: If she’s a slut, I’m one too

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http://instagr.am/p/Czg2Q/

SlutWalk Toronto protest sign via @calamityjennnnn

Slutwalk Toronto, a march down the streets of Toronto to protest the shaming women based on their appearance and their choices, and blaming women for sexual assaults (check out the list of other cities participating), happened today.

Let me start by saying that I am not an authority on this event, and probably not even the best person to be explaining it. But since it came up at a dinner that included strangers last night, and I feel like I did a poor job of explaining it (I write instead of talk for a reason), I’m going to give it another shot here. You can visit the official site here, follow the twitter feed here, or follow the conversation on Twitter here.

There were some ignorant questions asked at this dinner. Mainly “Does everyone dress like sluts?” Ignorant, of course, because that suggests that a) being a slut is a real thing and not an unfairly applied term used in an effort to shame women,  and  b) links appearance to promiscuity (and with that the understanding of what “promiscuity” is), and promiscuity to deservedness (of assault or disrespect).

But the more important question, asked this time from a woman, was “Why not call it a ‘Women’s Empowerment Walk’ instead of ‘Slutwalk’?”  I think she was coming from a good place.  Why would you want to label yourself with a word that is so offensive?  Why would you protest using a word that continues to be used to discredit women?
I tried to respond, but I didn’t have a very good answer. I guess because I hadn’t thought it through very well.  I think I’ve figured it out now.

Calling it “Slut” walk is not, as far as I can tell, a re-appropriation of the word “slut,” as much as it is a denouncement of those who use the word to define women – any women.

Slut is a name unfairly given to women based on what one person, or a society as a whole, perceives them to be.  The label comes with a basket of assumptions about actions and choices, and is deliberately used to shame (even by those who attempt to re-appropriate it – see: my friends circa 2002).  It’s used to other these women, to separate them from the good and deserving women of society.  It implies that these women are less worthy of respect and protection.   It’s an excuse for hurting them and for defending the men who do the hurting.

By separating the “us” from “the sluts” we create a false sense of security.  Even though we’re collectively outraged by a judge and a police officer who come right out and victim blame/slut shame, there are many among us who harbour the same biases against women.  So by calling it Slutwalk, and participating in Slutwalk*, it effectively sends a message that “if she’s a slut, so am I.”  Because “sluts” aren’t real.

So why does it matter if women are called sluts?

I guess it’s a bit like why rape jokes aren’t funny.  Because even if you’re a totally nice guy who wouldn’t actually ever rape someone, there’s a good chance that someone around you thinks you’re serious and that you actually do think rape is okay. (this is a paraphrased idea from Kate Harding and others, but I couldn’t find the right link).  Making rape jokes and using derogatory language like “slut” contributes to our rape culture, and whether you mean to or not, you’re holding up a social norm that says that rape is ok as long as it only happens to bad women.

Slutwalk Toronto Protest sign via @CalamityJennnnn

Until we can get to a point where we don’t think only some women deserve a life free from violence, until we stop thinking that anyone is EVER asking to be hurt, and until we stop defending men who hurt women (whether it is because we like those men/their work, or because we don’t like the women) then we will not stop sexual assault from happening.

Until we stop dividing women into groups, and valuing them based on their perceived purity, actions or sexuality, we will not stop rape from happening.

Until we stop othering women who do not fit into a socially constructed idea of proper (usually white), pure, womanhood  (e.g. “sluts,” sex workers, women of colour, women in developing nations, women who wear short skirts or who go to parties, women who drink, women who use drugs, women who accept rides with strangers or those who accept rides with friends, women who go home with someone at a bar, women who don’t protect themselves from rape in a way that we think they should, etc. etc etc), rape will continue to happen.

So here’s to those women who were brave enough to stand up and say “We aren’t ever asking for it!” and to all the women who continue to fight for a world free of violence.

*I wasn’t part of the march.  I’m not a girl who likes crowds

Update: You should also read this fabulous post on Feministing. “What might appear slutty to one person might appear totally unremarkable to another. In other words, Fagan doesn’t get to define “slutty.” No one gets to define “slutty,” because “slutty” is entirely relative. Which is especially handy for people who want to blame a woman for her own rape, since the “slut” label can be slapped on pretty much any woman, anywhere, at any time!”

No autotune here

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When a live performance sounds just like the album, be impressed.

Final guest post on Sweetspot.ca

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My final guest blogger post is up at Sweetspot.ca. Have a read: The Real Experts

Gifts for a sick girl

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My boss’s daughter drew this for me today because I am sick.  I dig it.

New Sweetmama Post – Week 3

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I’m back again! Talking babysitting and serial killers on Sweetspot.ca (plus bad puns)

Read it here: Perks, Courtesies and Common Cents

New Post on Sweetspot.ca

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Check out this week’s post: Laws of the Land - the rules your babysitter wants you to know about.

The Yukon Quest

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Today, in balmy -17 degree weather, 24 mushers started the 1000 mile trip to Fairbanks, Alaska by sled.

The start line, which alternates between Whitehorse and Fairbanks, was packed with hundreds of people cheering the mushers and dogs on their way.

Ladies and gentlemen: The Yukon Quest dogs of 2011

Yukon Quest lizzbryce.com

Yukon Quest lizzbryce.com

Yukon Quest lizzbryce.com

Yukon Quest lizzbryce.comYukon Quest lizzbryce.comYukon Quest lizzbryce.comYukon Quest lizzbryce.comYukon Quest lizzbryce.com

Guest Blogger on Sweetspot.ca

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Hello world!

I’m the guest blogger on Sweetspot.ca’s “Sweetmama” site for the month of February.  I’ll be enlightening you all with my deep, dark babysitter secrets (that’s partially a lie).

Check out my first post: How to Keep Your Babysitter Happy

There are three more where that came from! Enjoy.Sweetmama logo

A Little Help From My Friends…

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Jerry Stamp Taylor Guitar

He's nicer than he looks... well, sort of.

Tired of trying to decide between a pile of crappy mayoral candidates? Vote Jerry instead!

My good friend, Jerry Stamp, is a rockin’ musician. He’s also trying very hard to win a competition. But damnit, the guy in first place won’t budge.

You can vote once per day, per email address  — not that I am suggesting anything underhanded.

The grand prize is session time at New York City’s Tainted Blue Studios (McCartney’s recorded there) and free gear (stuff I hear musicians need).

You can check out Jerry’s solo music on iTunes . Fun fact: I wrote the lyrics for one song – though it was intended as a gag, shouldn’t have ended up on any record, and is really nothing to be proud of. If you can find it, you get a gold star. While your credit card is out, download  some really great King Nancy tunes too!

Let’s take down Andy Brown together, folks. VOTE HERE.

**Other songs I’m credited as having a part of, but receive no royalties for? A completely made up song about anorexia, written as a high-school class project.  You can find it on the album Gingerbread… but it’s probably better that you don’t.

This is how I feel when Twitter is used as valid “research”

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Dinosaur Comics

Yeah, I’m looking at you, CNN (among others). (watch CNN’s pretend journalism here)

Ellen, day 1

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Is anyone else feeling like they’re watching American Idol on fast-forward this season?

Something seems to have changed.  I don’t know if it is actually a shorter show, or if it is just more time wasted on stories and tears and less on actual singing, but I’m not diggin’ it.

I watch Idol because I love music, and wanted to be a singer from a very young age.  Luckily, I realized I wasn’t cut out for a career in music, but Idol lets me pretend like maybe I could have been.  That being said, if you’re not into music, why would you bother watching?

There are dozens of shows on TV about people’s sob stories, and that delight in people’s misery.  Why does Idol have to one too?

Bring on some music!

On the plus side, of the few musical performances they actually showed, several were amazing.  Check this rendition of Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” (55 seconds in):

Social Media at Work

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Here’s a blog I wrote somewhere else. It is a little too pro-twitter for me to post here considering my previous posts on the subject!

Love,

Lizz

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