Sell Out

In my ongoing quest to stop sleeping (and also to overcome bronchitis), Marty and I watched a Morgan Spurlock documentary, The Greatest Movie Ever Sold.  For those of you who haven’t had the privilege of watching the most random movies that Netflix has to offer, this film followed Spurlock on a quest to obtain corporate sponsors for his latest movie, which just so happened to be a film about product placement and securing sponsorship for a movie. Go figure!

Many companies signed on as sponsors for the film, but each company served Spurlock with a lengthy list of specific conditions that had to be met before they would agree to back the movie. For example, only the title sponsor’s beverage could be consumed on film. A scene with Spurlock enjoying another sponsor’s frozen pizza had to be included in the movie. He had to conduct on-camera interviews while being seated in the premises of other sponsors, etc., etc.. What started as an awesome-sounding way to have his movie paid for became a logistically challenging nightmare. Was it possible for Spurlock to please every signed-on corporation but still maintain a shred of creative direction in the film, not to mention his personal integrity and dignity overall?

As if I’d ever tell.

Since I often excel at Missing the Point, when we started watching this movie, I immediately compiled a mental list of all the companies I wouldn’t mind shilling for in exchange for a tiny piece of my soul. Fluevog Shoes was an obvious first choice, followed closely by Zenka eyewear and then a handful of local stores here in Victoria (Smoking Lily for killer women’s clothes and Cafe Bliss for the best restaurant salad known to humankind.) Finding myself on a roll, I figured I could also be the unexpected spokeswoman for WordPress (Me and my underdog blog!), and I’d happily be the face of a thrift store in exchange for new-to-me outfits. Heck, I’d even pour my heart into promoting Mason Jars (which I love!) or organic lemons, although I’m not sure a jar contract would be the hippest or most lucrative sponsorship opportunity available in the world. (That said, the Mason Jar contract might be the coolest and most lucrative sponsorship opportunity available to me. Wayne Gretzky, I am not. But while we’re on a Wayne Tangent, I happened to spot him on a package of green tea at the grocery store recently. Schlepping for Mason Jars would be on par with posing for a box of green tea, methinks. But would I be offered as much money as Wayne? Highly doubtful.)

Image of the Great One via www.bigelowtea.com. Seriously, Wayne?

(I suppose I should clarify at this point that I do not receive anything from any of these companies, unless an enzymatic pick-me-up from a lemon every morning counts as sponsorship. Last time I checked, it didn’t. I do not receive monetary or in-kind payment from any of the above-mentioned companies, but if they were interested in owning a little piece of my soul moving forward, I just might oblige! )

*Note to companies that might be interested in sponsoring me in the future– please do not continue reading this post. Your time on this post is officially done. Thanks! For non-corporate readers, feel free to continue reading below.

The fact is, for most companies and products, I would probably make a terrible spokesperson. (Yes, I’m one of those people who prefers potential sponsorship contracts to line up with my pesky set of core values.) If I were a professional athlete– I know it’s a stretch but stay with me on this one– I wouldn’t feel right being the face of a fast food restaurant or a sugary breakfast cereal. If I were a high-powered celebrity– again, bear with me– I certainly wouldn’t be the one with a milk mustache in the magazine ads. (Squeezing a lemon, though? Sure thing! Call me, organic citrus industry!) I know that junk food is where most/all of the sponsorship money is, but who’s to say that an obscure French eyeglasses company wouldn’t want a little schlepping? And maybe the Mason Jar industry could use a little boosting with the under-75 crowd?

I’m really good at saying nice things about the people, products, and companies I believe in, but maybe it’s just because it’s way easier to be passionate about something when you’re telling the truth. (Case in point: during our crazy summers at the Harbour, people tell me every day that I’m a great spokesperson for our art business. Um, you think? Not to take away from the actual artwork, but saying nice things about my husband is a real no-brainer, people.) Would accepting money or gifts from companies to say those same nice things about them compromise my values or dilute my personal integrity? I wouldn’t know from personal experience, but it seems like the line between making a go at life via legitimate sponsors and plain old selling out is a very fine one.

What say you, readers?

Is there a product or company you’d gladly slap your face, signature, or tiny piece of your soul on?

Is sponsorship ever a good thing?

Do you think the Mason Jar people will call me?

I’d Like to Thank God and the Academy

It’s been a while since I’ve been bestowed with a blog award, so I’d like to thank God, the Academy, and especially dragonfae from Among the Crystals, Dragons, and Fae for naming me a recipient of the Kreativ Blogger Award! Some people– skeptics– might scoff that the majority of blogging awards are nothing more than thinly disguised online chain letters, but I know better. It’s not like just anybody can make up a random award name, slap together a makeshift award logo, and then slather their MS Paint masterpiece over the entire internet, forcing recipients to show their gratitude by listing inane facts about themselves. Clearly, a Grade 3 education at minimum is required for this.

I jest. I secretly love lists, awards, and even old-fashioned chain letters (not e-mail forwards), which means I am the picture-perfect target recipient for the Kreativ Blogger Award. Maybe I’ll even add it as padding for my self-employed resumé? I’m sure future, non-self/non-partner employers will be impressed.

Without further adieu, the “Rules” for this particular award are:

1. Thank the blogger who presented you with the award. Thank you ever so kindly, dragonfae!
2. Post a photo of the award.

Looks official and legit to me...

3. Share ten things about yourself readers don’t know. Read on and prepare to be fascinated!
4. Choose six people to present this award to. As everyone waits, with bated breath… pick me! pick me! (Or ‘please don’t pick me!’ Whatevs.)

Ten Things You’ve Always Wanted to Know About Dana L., But Were Afraid To Ask:

1. Even though I’ve technically been “Dana M.” for several years now, I still refer to myself in the third person as “Dana L.” On days when I’m either facing a crisis of confidence or am wanting to flaunt 6 years of mostly useless higher education to my less-educated peers, I’ll call myself “Dana L., MA”. I only whip out my Bachelor of Arts credential in emergencies.

2. When I was younger, I wanted my name to be “Candy”. No offense to actual Candys (Candies?) out there, but thank goodness my wish never came true.

3. Ditto for my childhood dream to become a Grade 4 teacher with triplet daughters of my own named April, May, and June. Seriously, younger me? That was appealing why?

4. One of the greatest moments in my life was when I got to meet Gloria Steinem. My former workplace hosted her as the inaugural speaker for our Voices of Women speaker series, and when the arrangements were being made to bring her from New York to Calgary, I got to play retro receptionist at work and say over the loudspeaker, “Pam– if you’re available, Gloria Steinem is on Line 1 for you. Pam– Gloria Steinem on 1.”

5. I taught my middle sister the F-word when I was 6 and she was 4. My mom somehow got wind of this unfortunate development and launched into a diatribe at the dinner table one night about how “f*ck” was not an appropriate word to use, ever. The only problem was, I had taught my sister the word “fart” and we had no idea what the eff my mom was ranting about.

6. I tend to admire (artful, discrete) tattoos on other people but can’t think of anything I would want imprinted on my own body for the rest of my life.

7. My first real job was working as a salesperson in the lingerie section of a National Department Store. I was traumatized when my high school English teacher came in for a bra fitting and insisted that I do it. Then she sent her other teacher friends to me afterward. Not like I earned commission on sales or anything. Nope. I saw my teacher and all her friends half-naked for the measly hourly wage of $6.73. For the record? Not worth it.

8. I harbour a nostalgic fondness for many movies that involve choreographed dance scenes or– even better– dance offs. But I still haven’t seen Footloose. (Old or new version!) What gives?

The perfect, 80s-style blend of choreographed dance scenes AND an epic dance off

9. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any of these iconic classics either: any of the Mad Max movies, Pretty in Pink, The Breakfast Club, the Indiana Jones movies, the Godfather series, Pulp Fiction, Trainspotters, Blade Runner, The Sound of Music, Rocky Horror Picture Show, or every other Rocky movie except the one where he fights that gigantic Russian guy.

10. My favourite colours are red and green, but not in a Christmas way.

And now, for my nominees:

Stephanie from Life of a Phoenix

Lunar Euphoria from My Little Spacebook

MJ Monaghan from mjmonaghan

Lesley Ann from Plenty of Lesley

Mary from One Sheep Thrill

Jabba from Cafe Jabbaccino

Congratulations on being the latest recipients of the Kreativ Blogger Award!

Crisis of Confidence

Typical Cancer-- hermiting myself away

I have been suffering through my Annual Existential Crisis for the past week or so.

At times, I feel completely consumed by feelings of confusion, panic, and helplessness. Who am I? Why am I here [i.e. on earth in general, not at the awesome lakeside cabin in particular, which I love]? What am I supposed to be doing with my life? Why don’t I have more direction and drive? On those brooding, sulking, heavy days, I read through other people’s blogs and make the mistake of clicking “notify me of follow-up comments” when I respond to their posts. Then I feel washed in despair, bitterness, and that most ugly of emotions– jealousy– when my inbox is flooded with comments for other people’s posts, other people’s writing, other people’s experiences.  Other people have everything figured out, I whine to my bruised, tender spirit as I pillage through the contents of my inbox indiscriminately. Savagely. DELETE, DELETE, I DON’T CARE, DELETE!!!! Everyone else has tapped into life’s most abundant of arteries and are basking in the warmth of that rich, warm flow. [Insert sad and/or pitiful emoticon here.]

The next day (or sometimes even within an hour), I sneer at myself for being so shallow. Silly girl, I seethe to my paper-thin heart– the soul that feels like it has been burnt to ash and might blow clear away from me in the most gentle of breezes– Life does not boil down to stats, subscribers, or blogging at all. Get over yourself and focus on what truly matters.

Which is?, I wonder. What truly matters? What matters most to me?

Unfortunately, because I am mired in my Annual Existential Crisis, this brings me right back to questions of Who am I? and Why am I here? Back come those brooding, sulking, heavy days– days when even the most meaningless of circumstances render me utterly crestfallen. It’s a vicious, unfriendly, and exhausting cycle, but it seems to happen, well, annually now.

I believe it boils down to our crazy summers and the highly unstructured winters that follow. From April until October every year, I have a clear sense of what needs to get done and I am confident, positive, that I can do all of those things well. I am organized. I am great with people. I am approachable, genuine, and passionate about the art business that I share with my dearest partner. I am buoyed by the receptiveness of other people to our work and feel elated with the knowledge that what I do matters. People are taken care of– thrilled with their purchases. I am nurturing them, if only indirectly. Life is busy, hectic, sleepless, and often stressful, but I love what I do. Everything is great!

Then the winter months come along, those same months that I crave and yearn for from approximately April to October every year. Heh. In the summer, I say “I can’t wait to unwind!” or “We’re looking forward to some down time!” but when I finally get there, I crack into a hundred thousand little pieces and watch helplessly from beyond myself, a scattered pile of dust. In those months, the quiet months, I struggle to rebuild myself from the summer’s leftover shards of us, we, and ours. Who am I?, I demand to know. What is my purpose in life? Sometimes I even catch myself wondering what my junior high guidance counselors would think of my career path now– as though I even cared what they suggested to me when I was twelve. (For the record: I did not. I’d make a good truck driver, you say? SCREW YOU!!) Everything is external.

During the winter months– those slippery, ambiguous, crumbly months– I find myself turning outside of myself more often than usual. I search diligently for any confirmation, however slight, that who I am and what I do still matters. Am I a writer? Do people even like my writing? Like an oft-beaten puppy who needs love but is afraid to go looking for it, I crave Marty’s approval and the validation of other people. I know in my head that this is not right. I have no problems spouting off self-help proverbs to remind myself that real acceptance comes from within. But. As sweet as these little cliched nuggets are– Trust in the Universe! Believe in yourself!– they do not foster or sustain that prized, blessed calm in the heart, much like a diet of candy cannot promote impeccable digestive health. There must be something else.

Sorry, Yogi Tea bag. I love your pithy wisdom but I need something more.

For now, I’m just letting myself be. I’m having long, soulful conversations with Marty and lying protected in his embrace, breathing in his reassuring scent of acceptance, love, and safety. I’m chanting and meditating on a daily basis. In an effort to take and accept myself on my own terms and on those terms alone, I’ve hidden my modest blog stats into a dark corner and feel content to leave those stupid things there– totally untouched and unmonitored for however long it takes to not care about them anymore. Then I’m laughing at myself for having the audacity to put such a high value on the virtual equivalent of a popularity contest in the first place. Honestly. Who should even care about hits, comments, subscribers, pingbacks, etc.? The aliens would find that mighty ludicrous, I’m sure. (When I first started blogging– way back in 2006!– I only wanted to be able to keep in touch with my friends from Calgary online. It didn’t matter to me if any of them actually commented or even read my posts. Also, I didn’t even understand the whole concept of “subscribing” until this past March. Yes, March 2011. Oh, youth!)

Anyway.

These beautiful runes were handmade and given to us as a wedding present

My runes and tarot cards from the Winter Solstice reading basically suggested that I try living life for the process of it instead of the outcome. Of course, my surprisingly linear, forward-facing mind reels at the thought of not having a solid Five Year Plan in place, but seeing as my Plan lately has consisted only of ?????s and ums, it’s probably for the best. Sure. I can try doing things just because and not worry about how everything will turn out. At least I’ll try. That sounds good.

The one advantage of having an Existential Crisis every year is that I know it will pass. It always does. I will stumble around in the darkness of my psyche for a week or two– confused, timid, insecure, and shy as can be– but I will emerge again, confident and kicking ass (or humble and zen-like– or all of those things!) when the time is right. I know in my heart that I’m where I am “supposed” to be in life right now, but it seems I just need to go through the process of re-affirming that belief for myself… again and again and again. I can do it.

Thanks for listening and for being here. xoxo

Lucky Sevens

Come with me, dear readers, on a trip back through time in the WordPress Exclusive Online Time Travel Machine. We’re not going to go far– we’re just going to head back to the beginning of August, when that bravest of bloggesses, Kathy from Reinventing the Event Horizon, nominated me for the Seven Links Blog Award.

I’ve been grateful to Kathy since August for recognizing my humble blog, but a busy lifestyle and an even busier work schedule prevented me from acknowledging this award until now. I am drawn to this award because, unlike other memes which require bloggers to confess their darkest secrets and do all sorts of other silly things, the Seven Links Award provides the opportunity to highlight some of my favourite posts, including ones that might have been missed or overlooked by newer readers. Plus, with the new year just around the corner, the format of such a retrospective post dovetails perfectly with all those ‘year end countdown’ and ‘top ten of 2011′ lists… which I confess to loving. Call me nostalgic.

In any case, without further adieu, here are the Seven Links I would like to feature:

1. Most Beautiful

“Beautiful” isn’t usually a word I would use to describe my own writing, but if I had to choose my most beautiful-ish post, it would probably be Are You There, Margaret? It’s Me: God. A post about love should never be ugly, right?

2. Most Popular

One would think that my Freshly Pressed Post, Crying (and Cursing) Over Spilled Milk– in which I outlined the trials and tribulations of making almond milk for the first time– would be my most popular. Surprisingly, it is not. Rather, an otherwise nondescript post about ugly Christmas sweaters crushes the entire competition. In Search of the World’s Worst Christmas Sweater has nearly 4 times as many hits as any other post on my blog, including my Freshly Pressed post. Most of the search engine terms that lead people to my blog also have to do with ugly and horrific Christmas sweaters. Go figure.

A bit of sparkle from a gigantic Ugly Christmas Sweater I borrowed from a colleague. Unfortunately, it reeked of Bounce sheets and gave both Marty and I allergies. We couldn't even wear it as a joke.

3. Most Controversial

I have two categories of controversial posts– the first category deals with issues of censorship and the boundaries around what we choose to share online. A Visit from the Overshare Fairy chronicles the fallout of posting a little bit too much information about myself on the internet.

The second category of controversy is controversial only because it contains graphic details about a circumstance which many women face, but few women talk about openly: miscarriage. My This Day In History series– parts One, Two, and Three– address the messy range of emotions that Marty and I faced when we lost a pregnancy back in 2006.

Not me-- this is my sis when she was pregnant with our niece, Lily

4. Most Helpful

In case you haven’t noticed, my primary objective on this blog is not necessarily to be helpful. I write mostly to entertain (or be entertained), but one of my posts inadvertently became helpful to others and continues to generate a lot of ‘thank you’ e-mails. Chlorella: Superfood, My Ass! was originally written as a flippant, eff-you homage to the nutritional supplement that renders me paralyzed with projectile vomit. It’s not an especially well-written post by any means, but lots of people have since discovered it and written me privately to say thank you– either for naming the substance that was causing them severe GI distress or for simply acknowledging that not everyone does well on so-called superfoods. (So in case you were wondering, helpful posts can have the word “Ass” in the title. Who knew?)

5. Most Surprisingly Successful

The post that continues to garner many surprising hits (although not new comments) was written way back in 2008. Talk to the Hand recounts my experience visiting a palm reader at our local mall. If my site stats and search engine terms are any indication, lots and lots of people take to the internet to learn more about mysterious beauty marks on their palms. Hence, if you need to boost traffic to your blog, might I suggest writing about finding the ‘ugly Christmas sweater’ line on your palms? And vomit– lots and lots of projectile vomit.

6. Most Underrated

It must be a Universal Blogging Experience: you write a new post, congratulate yourself for your expert use of prose and scintillating adjectives, and then hit ‘Publish’– fully expecting a tsunami of Online Fandom to come crashing down in your comments section. But it doesn’t. To make matters worse, not only are you not ravaged by a destructive gale-force wind of admiration, but you also don’t even seem to make a ripple in the blogosphere. Maybe one person comments on your post… out of pity. The rest of your readers are already on to the next blogging sensation, and your Fantastic Post dies a quiet death in a lonely corner, all by itself.

Two posts I would like to offer up for your resurrection consideration are Battle of the Ferries, in which I tread the dangerous waters of using the word ‘terrorist’ in a post, and The Most Important Evening of Our Lives, in which I fail miserably as a wife, hairdresser, and a general human being.

At least *my* hair looked good on The Most Important Evening of Our Lives

7. Most Worthy of Pride

It probably seems a little strange, but I’m really proud of a post I wrote about eggs. The Dirty Dozen: My Initiation Into A Life of Crime came together effortlessly and incorporated all three of the essential ingredients in any winning post: hippies, Hollywood, and the Russian mafia. Every time I see this title in my “Your Recent Favourites” sidebar, I foolishly beam with the pride of a mother who has just watched her little Johnny hit a home run in a T-ball game. Other moms might not think my Johnny is a big deal, but I’m proud all the same.

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Recipients of this Seven Links Award are also supposed to direct readers to some other noteworthy blogs. I highly recommend checking out any and all of the blogs in my sidebar, but a few I’d like to showcase here are:

The Good Greatsby: If I had even one post that was written as cleverly as Paul writes his, I would have an ego the size of North America. And Paul churns out instant classics almost every single day. Seriously. The first time I saw his name in my comments section, it felt like I had been paid a personal visit by Depeche Mode. I nearly peed myself. (If you are not a Depeche fan, feel free to sub in the name of The Biggest, Most Famous Superstar You Know Of there.) I would openly hate The Good Greatsby if I wasn’t so desperate for his approval. And there you have it.

Hyperbole and a Half: Allie Brosh has over 100 million hits on her blog right now, and I’m sure she doesn’t really need the extra two or so followers that my link… might… bring. However. It must be said that her posts, although infrequent, provide my best ab workouts. (Eat your heart out, P90X!) I especially love the posts about her dogs. (Check out Dogs Don’t Understand Basic Concepts Like Moving and quite possibly the funniest thing I’ve ever read, Dog.)

Through the Looking Glass: Olive and I have had a virtual friendship for the past five years or so. I discovered an earlier blog of hers through a geeky How to Blog!-type book and have since followed her through her (mis)adventures in medical school and, more recently, getting married. She writes some of the most honest and intelligent words I’ve ever encountered on the internet. Her recent posts about love and marriage have blown me away.

Waste Not Want More: Rose and I are cut from the same cloth and even started off on similar paths in university… until Rose went on to kick law school’s ass, leaving me in my less-prestigious “liberal arts degree” dust. I love how smartly Rose blogs– every word she writes is almost poetic and carries the calculated weight of careful consideration– and nothing pleases me more than to see her blog starting to attract the traffic it deserves. She’s brilliant.

Life In The Bogs: Robin is inspirational to me for a number of reasons. For one thing, she takes absolutely breathtaking photos… on a simple point and shoot camera, which I (the mostly terrible photographer) was flabbergasted to learn. More importantly, Robin undertakes daily “challenges” and writes about her progress online. Last year, she endeavored (and succeeded!) to venture outside every day, and this year, she is focusing on becoming a pescatarian (fish-eating vegetarian) and working through a daily yoga practice. I admire Robin’s commitment to her goals and always look forward to seeing her beautiful images in my inbox.

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If you’ve made it this far into the post– thank you! I hope you enjoy trawling through some older posts of mine and encourage you to visit some new-to-you blogs as well!

What are some of your own favourite posts?