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Day 1 - Chronic Pain Clinic

Festive Open House and One-of-a-Kind Show

Saturday December 5th

2:00pm to 6:00pm

35 Avenue Road

Ottawa

Drop by for some hot mulled cranberry, snacks and holiday hobnobbing.

We'll have some nifty, affordable, last-minute gifts available from talented artists and crafters:

Eliza von Baeyer
Jenn Farr

Colleen Forrer
Chris Hamilton
Jacqueline Jolliffe
Donna Mandeville
Leela Ramachandran


BYOSS - Bring Your Own Santa Sweater

All ages welcome

Therapy: MeMe Roth

Know what? I'm fat. I ain't happy about it, but I'm fat. I gained 60 pounds in less than 3 years thanks to a pulmonary embolism, depression and fibromyalgia complicated by type 3 Ehlers Danlos and an inoperable hiatus hernia.

I am coming to terms with the possibility that my body may never feel *good* again. I'm almost ok with being in constant physical pain and discomfort because my stomach pokes up into my chest cavity, my body won't process collagen correctly and my flesh feels like one giant, hypersensitive bruise. I don't need others to make me feel like crap. I already feel like crap, thanks.

Believe me, I do not intend, nor have I ever intended to keep gaining weight or further compromise my health. Stop yourself right there if you think you have 'advice' for me. I know that advice can be well-meaning - but it's usually ignorant and insensitive. Would you ask a cancer patient if they've tried chemo? Would you tell an asthmatic to, 'just breathe already'? It's pretty-much the same as asking me if I've tried 'X' 'Y' or 'Z' weight loss *solution*. If life were so simple - health workers would never fall ill. >.<

I. Am. Fat. I have been trying to get fit and lose weight for a while now. Most of the time I'm ok. Sometimes I'm not. This morning I was not ok. All night I had dreams of MeMe Roth's recent 'size 24 pants' publicity stunt . I wear size 24. I have no choice. Its either that or go to work naked.

Meredith Clements (aka MeMe Roth) seeks the spotlight by shaming anyone who's not a size zero. Her mission is to make an already uncomfortable personal situation unbearable. Her definition of 'overweight' is dangerously absurd. Her demands that women fit into their wedding dress for the rest of their lives is cruel, misogynist, heternormative, presumptuous and practically impossible.

Legitimate health professionals must begin speaking out against this attention-starved publicist professing to be an 'obesity expert'.

In the mean time, I am lucky to have a supportive husband.

... and mad cathartic photoshop skillz!!

http://www.jennfarr.com/therapy/MeMe_Roth_Anorexia_for_Everyone.jpg

Where am I?

I don't have the ♥ to take this blog down. I'm a packrat - even online! I joined facebook in March 2007 and am now firmly entrenched. Go ahead and judge me, but don't forget to say, "hi".

keeping

it's a sad site to view an untended blog. this isn't like a neglected garden that continues to grow uncontrolled and random. at least it self-generates content in the form of tangled weeds and choked perennials. no, a blog just sits inert. still.

my first solo show!

delinquent till March

Such a small lump of blood - so much fuss. I'm off work until March 2nd. I don't think I'd be in such bad shape now if 2006 hadn't already spent 12 months battering my physical and emotional health. My teeny embolus is that proverbial straw.

This all means something. Everything that went down in '06 happened for a reason...

I'm still just wonderin' what the exact motive is?

the itsy bitsy blood clot

Wouldn't ya know it?

Two-thousand-and-sucks got one more swipe at me on the way out. December 18th I ended up in the hospital with a pulmonary embolism. A blood clot had gotten lodged in my lower right lung causing much pain. Who knew that lungs had nerve endings? I sure as heck-fire didn't. I could hardly breathe it was so harsh. Even worse, this thing can kill - literally! Luckily it's a small clot, luckily I'm now getting excellent medical care, luckily I'm off the hydromorphone (it made me even loopier than usual).

But I'm still knackered. My doctor sez I'm off work until at least the end of January. I spend a lotta time on the couch so my art is suffering. Ah well. At least I lived to see the New Year.

And thank FREAKIN' GOD it's a new year! I blame the whole Gregorian calendar and expect 2007 to shower me with fame, fortune & critical acclaim all the while whittling a few dress sizes off my expanded frame. I've earned it all!!! Sheesh.

the new obsession

I don't think I'll be blogging much. Not that I've been blogging much..... but now it's not procrastination or writer's block. I'm painting!!! Yep, painting n' painting n' painting!

I go to bed thinking about my art. I dream about beeswax and brushes. I wake up in the middle of the night with ideas to test out. I get up in the morning and turn on my hotplates - first thing.

Greg built me a wonderful work space in what used to be our living room. He's also producing beautiful, rigid supports for my encaustic painting. I've been so productive that our dining room looks like a gallery now!

Here's a pic of my studio:

and a link to my new website:

http://www.jennfarr.com


Other than that, I'm working on having some shows around town. Contact me if you wanna know when I'll be having my first vernissage.

Yippeeeeeee!

nothing like a looming deadline

I've had my G1 driver's licence for years. It's cost over $1000 in driver training and licence fees to get this far. If I want to get a full license, my window of opportunity closes on August 8. Problem is, I've been behind the wheel for a total of 6 hours in the past 2.5 years. I can navigate through downtown rush hour traffic on a tandem bike. I'm confident making left turns at Wellington & Sussex at the height of its construction chaos. But put me behind the wheel of a bulky, motorized metal cage and I lose my nerve.

Mostly, I need to get over a mental block I've got around the idea of being a "driver". I really dislike cars. I'm a cyclist! Motor vehicles are dangerous bullies to a cyclist. Impatient drivers nearly squash me on my daily bike route. Cars, trucks, vans n' SUVs smell bad and spew hot exhaust at me on hot summer days. Ew.

I don't like what motor vehicles have done to my community. City planners still design our communities more for cars than for people. Big box stores with Olympic-sized parking lots preclude pedestrians. Multi-lane highways speed suburbanites' commutes. Double wide streets accommodate parking. Laneways and paving stones dominate places where green spaces could be.

Even our thoughts have been paved! Think of what it would be like without the distraction of the constant noise that vehicles produce? It's probably hard to imagine as we're so accustomed to the steady rumble and hum. Believe me, it would be magnificently serene!

Yet here I am - wanting to add one more driver to the ranks.

I need to turn in my satisfyingly holier-than-thou nondriver cred and join the licensed masses. ... well, maybe just until I pass the road test. Because I'm still not going to buy a car!

the midway mark

Thank gawd we're halfway through 2006. It's been a year of shite - lemme tell you. Actually, I can't tell you everything because this-here internet thingy is just a wee bit too public. Suffice it to say that mom's cancer, dad's open heart surgery, husband's lay-off & sister's divorce are just the half of it.

I made this smiling dog for a friend who likes pugs. I posted the pooch here cuz sometimes my smile feels just as fake as that Photoshopped grin. This pic also reminds me that I gotta stop grinding and start flossing.

Like a Grizzly defending her cubs.

Well actually, like a Grizzly defending her right to raise her cubs as she sees fit according to her own personal circumstances and based on the availability of spawning salmon and wild blueberries.

A recent discussion on childcare quickly derailed when I impetuously posted an emotional vent on Miss Vicky's blog. Oops. My bad! Turns out there is someone who has read my comments as slagging Stay At Home Parents. I didn't mean it that way but haven't had a chance to address this misperception. The conversation on Offhand Remarks has ended. So here goes nothing:


Hi Liss76

I'm very sorry you took my comment personally. I had been a single parent for 8 years and at one point was forced to relocate to Hull to take advantage of the (fantastic) $7 a day daycare policy. I understand you are sensitive to issues around Stay At Home Parents just as I am sensitive to issues around Sole Support Parents.

We're all just trying to do the best we can for our kids - aren't we?

I'm concerned that you didn't feel like you could participate in the discussion. I would have been far more interested in listening to you, as a fellow primary caregiver rather than accept someone who isn't a child's primary caregiver telling me I've got the right "plumbing" to be a Stay At Home Parent and that I'm only working to "feed the machine". If you feel like having an actual discussion please feel free to post here on my very neglected blog.

the shat is on the fritz

On a rainy, icy morning when I need it most - our William Shatner album is all wrong. The Shat's vocals sound a million miles away while his background singers and instruments come in at normal volume. Kirk, why have you forsaken me?

"Has Been" has long been played on our living room pc. We ripped the album onto the hard drive for easier access. I guess the file must be self-destructing in some kind of anti-file sharing hara kiri? But why today? And, after all these months, where is my original CD!?

salad for breakfast

Mom's in the hospital. We daughters were told not to send flowers. Naturally, at first opportunity I logged onto an internet florist & chose the "Sunny Day" bouquet of Yellow Snapdragons, Carnations, Daisies, Freesia and Solidaster with a spray of Golden Sun Flowers. My daughter insisted on the basket. I know my mom will enjoy these flowers but she still 'won't like it'.

Now I'm up at 5am when normally I'd be snoozing for another couple hours. Luckily, this extreme extrovert is enjoying the quiet of a sleeping household. I'll have leftover salad and boiled eggs on a weekday that would normally see me scarfing down ramen noodles at the office for breakfast.

2 tuesdays ago

I wish this wasn't bugging me so much. 2 weeks ago my mother told me to stop calling her. There's alot of background there that maybe I'll start delving into when I have the time and clarity of thought. But yeah, I've been cut off. Pushed away. Snubbed.

Sort of surprising how much this bothers me. I even dreamt about it last night. Weird.

hurtin' song

this post in in no way a reflecion of my current state of mind. i'm feeling quite wonderfully peachy at the mo'. life in love is good. i'm just inspired by a recent Babble thread & determined to spread a little "Meat Purveyors" gospel. couldn't google the lyrics to my all time fave heartbreak song - so i figured i'd transcribe 'em myself and post them for all to see. yeah, all 2 of you.

<>

Circus Clown by The Meat Purveyors
from the album "All Relationships are Doomed to Fail"

I kept the plates spinning as long as i could
things just got worse and they never got good
as my whole world started to crack
i heard someone laughing behind my back

do i look like a circus clown to you?
does this look like a painted on frown to you?
yer so amused
i just feel misused
do i look like a clown to you?

take a tumble, take a fall take a kick in the pants
people shoot at my feet and tell me to dance
as i stand in the big ring disgraced
i see you in the crowd with a smile on your face

do i look like a circus clown to you?
does this look like a painted on frown to you?
yer so amused
i just feel misused
do i look like a clown to you?

step right up, come on in, get your money's worth
it's the greatest, oldest show on earth
sit up front for the very best view
as a man saws a woman's heart in two

do i look like a circus clown to you?
does this look like a painted on frown to you?
yer so amused
i just feel misused
do i look like a clown to you?

life's gotten in the way of bloggin'

so yeah....

i haven't posted in almost 2 months.
this is my feeble attempt at generating content:

i don't know about you, but i've got to work on my hallowe'en costume. it'll be hard to top last year's "virgin sacrifice" disguise.

childish things

being a kid came with it's own set of perks. the things i miss most about being a child are:

• my lunch box.

i had this stamped tin lunchbox from Disney World. precious lunch treats fit so neatly inside. i made my own sandwiches starting in Grade 5. stacked high like dagwoods with the tomato kept separate until noon to prevent soggy bread.


• summer camp.

being sent away for a week of frolicking is the kid equivalent of a cruise - the food just isn't as good. mandatory CPR training aside it was a blissful whirlwind of games, campfires, crafts, swimming and an intense day long capture the flag tournament. i even had spending money to could buy a Big Turk bar at the tuck shop every day!


• comfort food.

oblivious to trans fats, polyunsaturated oils or cholesterol i devoured the comfort foods of my childhood with gusto. macaroni & cheese with tomato, french onion soup, fried danish (i blame my dad), scalloped potatoes, grilled cheese.....



• flashlights.

my sister and I could get hours of entertainment out of a flashlight. we'd wave it back and forth really fast to produce a "strobe light" effect and each take turns dancing, jumping around and just making a spectacle of ourselves.


• the pink velour hoodie.

a daylong hug packaged in pink, white and burgundy stripes. so soft and comfortable was that shirt that we had to be forcibly separated.

crusty

I haven't been my usual "peppy self" in a while. I've no longer got a perma-grin glued on. People (apparently) are starting to talk. I think the old me was more Julie the cruise director meets Vegas showgirl meets Pollyannaish motivational speaker. Not pretty. Crusty, by comparison, is great.

Especially if it's the french bread kinda crusty.

quotesmosis

Conversation at a recent pool party potluck quickly degraded to pop-culture references and tv quotes. Folks who hadn't watched Napoleon Dynamite were able to pick up on vague references to llamas and one-sided ponytails while I was able to navigate the Simpsons lexicon without having seen a show in 7 years. In describing this phenomenon, and misunderstanding what Paul Gross was saying from across the coffee table we came up with a word for this phenomenon: Quotesmosis.

Firestation 13

at 2:15pm last Thursday i saw a firefighter sitting in front of the station at Laurier and King Edward. Strapped to an office chair with duct tape and smeared with whipped cream the guy appeared helpless but having a fairly good time. at his feet was a sign that said " this guy is getting married soon. save him". sure, maybe i'm supposed to chuckle at this pre-nuptial hazing but all i could do was scowl at the groom's buddies, sitting just inside the doors and laughing.

"save him from what? marriage"?

oh please.

vanilla ice cream

....or as we call it around our house "ass cream".

My fave flavour has always been vanilla. No bells and whistles to distract from the creamy mouth-feel of sweet lickery goodness. When ice cream is in question I am a purist - cream, milk, sugar, egg yolks & vanilla. That's all. Chunks of coagulated cookie dough, waxy chips of chocolate, ribbons of syrupy fudge or frozen nut hunks can easily cover up a sub-par product.

Lois & Frimas has a vanilla that deserves only to be languidly licked from a cone. No chintzy paper cup and plastic spoon. Order a waffle cone if you are a size queen like me. Stand or sit still, don't continue on to your next errand, read or distract yourself - that would be like answering a cell phone call on a first date. Start with the drippy parts first. Slowly draw your tongue across the almost-melted surface, lapping up sliding richness and cool tingles. Always lick spiralling upwards to draw the liquifying goodness away from the cone - you want it to remain firm and crispy until the end. Swirl, circle and slurp until the icy confection has been consumed. You could toss the edible container without much bad Karma, but I suggest you nibble the cone until your hand is free.

the power of one finger

i'm typing left-handed these days. i've developed a photoshopping injury that's rendered my right hand nearly useless for typing. my right shoulder is an inch lower than the left. my neck and shoulder seized up forcing me to turn my head like batman. all from one finger! just when i start to think that maybe my blog no longer exists solely for the purpose of my posting on other blogs i get carpal tunnel.

since when am i an activist?

i'm lots of things, social organizer, mom, party grrrrl, artist, wife, slut, glitter queen .... but who'd a thunk i'd become a cycling activist? this past weekend makes it official though. i'm a bike bug, a two-wheel instigator, a vehement velocipedist.

here i was - 8:45am on a Saturday - parking my bike in a metered spot in the busy Byward Market. within minutes my husband, daughter and I are confronted by two street embassadors, 3 angry drivers, a bylaw officer and a curious CBC radio reporter. we stood our ground. i did most of the talking and in the end we got a second bylaw parking cop acknowldging that the law was on our side and the protest could go on all day if we liked. yeee haw! the parking meter par-tay was a success. a total of 5 more cyclists showed up along with Radio Canada radio and TV interviewers. we stood in the York Street parking lot and planned our next cycling events: Car Free Day, the Beach Parade, Pride Parade and the next parking meter party. More info on that - and where to join all the fun is here.

i want to park my bicycle

July 16th - 9am to 1pmish

Parking Meter Party in the Byward Market!
York Street between Sussex and William St

all it takes is a fist full of quarters and a bicycle....

The plan:

Roll onto York Street in the morning when the parking spots aren't all
yet taken, and park. One vehicle per spot as per regulations.

Feed the meter then park yourself in a lawn chair with a cooler, music,
astroturf, carpet, whatever. Done "en-mass" we'll effectively (and very
legally) transform a "place for cars" into a "place for people". We'll
stick to posted time limits & rotate every two hours to a different spot!

We'll have lemonade, homemade treats and copies of the parking
regulations for anyone who happens by!

nice day for a bike wedding

my love and i got married.

not only do i feel all those things that friends told me i'd feel, "it just feels right", "you just know" and various vagaries meant to pinpoint your soulmate, it was also freaky good timing. June 10 - the 2nd anniversary of same-sex marriages becoming legal in Ontario - was the first available time for our kinda-last-minute civil ceremony.

the justifiably exalted stubbie bottle 

wherefore art thou stubbie

Last night my love restocked our fridge with our fave brewskie - Waterloo Dark. Something in Waterloo has gone distractingly askew. Our beloved beverage is now imprisoned in plain jane tall neck bottles! Tastes the same, sure - but the effect of drinking from an old school stubbie bottle is part of the mystique!

I'm seriously shopping around for a new brew. Suggestions?

hot pink fishnets

worn amidst full 80s regalia
and fuck-me boots
my big birthday
party
of several happy hours
favourite lychee martinis and succulent sushi

love spilling over table

(thanks to p kapoor)

hot pink tank bike

the winter bike
she's a sweet ride
florescent safety paint
n' iridescent glitter

eliciting giggles from folks at crosswalks
and praise from unknown pedestrians