I had no idea.
To be fair, I don’t watch sports. I didn’t know, or care, what athletes wore on the Olympic stage—until now.
Until I found out that athletes don’t have any choice in what they wear. That the rules governing female competition uniforms have little to do with the sport in question and a lot to do with boosting ratings.
Notice anything about the above picture?
I remember a time when women burnt their bras and eschewed make-up. When my friends and I braved frostbite in miniskirts one day and swept the floor in maxi-dresses the next. When women marched for the right to choose—everything.
How is it possible that fifty years later we’re still fighting the same fight?
Shout out to the Norwegian women’s beach handball team
and the German gymnastics team
For saying ENOUGH. FOCUS ON THE SPORT, NOT MY ASS.
Meet the soldier causing a bit a of ruckus in the Canadian military.
In a court martial due to start August 3, Bombardier Chelsea Cogswell faces 18 charges and a possible two year prison sentence.
Her grievous crime?
Bombing civilians? Torturing POWs? Black Market Profiteering?
No, Bombardier Cogswell baked cupcakes.
She stands accused of serving Marijuana-laced cupcakes to her unsuspecting fellow soldiers. Oh, the horror!
The military brass is up-in-arms, citing safety concerns because the nine gunners who ate the cupcakes took part in a live-fire exercise involving explosives and weapons drills.
While happy, high, hungry gunners might not be at their best in a weapons test, if we’re talking safety the military command might want to do something about their abysmal record in prosecuting sexual assault cases within the ranks.
Beaches and bathing suits, shorts and sandals, ice cream and—young love.
Love doesn’t get much younger than that first crush. The one that had you reeling from a smile, hugging your pillow and wishing…
If, like me, you can barely remember that roller coaster ride of feelings, Cariño is here to remind us.
Created by Carlos Taborda, Ashley Williams, and Roshel Amuru as a thesis project, Cariño is an animated, short film about a boy with a crush.
The above picture is courtesy of BE KITSCHIG. For all things garden gnomes and kitsch, check out BE KITSCHIG’S blog here.
The strangest thing…
In my backyard last week, just me, the clouds, and the trees—
There may have been a laptop, cell phone, latte, the occasional squirrel, and a yard full of weeds where grass should be, but let’s not worry about the details—
Into the quiet of swaying branches, twittering birds, and the neighbour’s child screaming in the pool next door…the muted, rumbling roar of an engine above.
A sound I hadn’t heard in oh, eighteen months.
Slicing through the clouds, sliding across the sky, metal wings.
A sight once so common that only children looked up in awe, now a little startling.
Oh, right, a plane.
There are almost as many writing guides as there are writers. Writing classes, blogs, and books, all telling you how to write that novel, short story, or email.
They natter on about characters, plot, setting. Discuss style, voice, and point of view. Tell you more than you ever wanted to know about grammar, but…
They don’t tell you how to get it done. How to drag the words out of your brain and pop them onto your screen.
They don’t mention the first rule of writing—
Stock Up On Chocolate.
Anyone who’s stared at a blank screen, deleted pages while weeping onto their keyboards, or tapped out two miserably, mediocre sentences in two hours knows that chocolate is essential.
Preferably, a combination of the two.
To paraphrase Kevin Costner in A Field of Dreams…Stock up on chocolate, and the words will come.