Month: May 2014

My Tits Are Not Your Visual Amusement Park

Yesterday, two things happened. Actually three, but two of the things have been lumped into one incident.

1. I had, on two separate occasions, men obnoxiously stare at my tits (at the gym and then the moaner on the subway).
2. Of the men I’ve told this to, almost all of them asked what the issue is.

Before I get started I will say this – I don’t expect men to understand why this is such a problem for women. I just hope you’ll respect the women around you. Even if they’re sluts. Even if they’re hookers. Even if they’re stay at home moms. 9 to 5 women. Unemployed women. Doctor women. Nurse women. Lawyer women. All I ask is that you just. respect. women.


The issue is that my bags of fat are not here for your own amusement. Yes, they’re pretty, and they’re pretty big, but when I go to the gym I am not there to add to your spank bank, or whatever the reason is that you have for staring at my tits in such an obvious and disgusting way.
To make matters worse, I was inches away from a man on the subway who was moaning every time he looked at my tits and another woman’s legs. How do I know this man is not unstable? I don’t. I told him to fuck off and moved two cars away from him. He then followed me, moaned a bit more and got off (no pun intended) at Bloor station, all the while looking at me with a demented smile on his face.

While telling a female coworker (not my direct coworker), her male coworker chimed in and asked what the big deal is, he does it all the time. Then he proceeded to tell me how when he went to the clubs he would place his beer bottle just so and then that way he could grab women’s boobs in the nightclub.
He didn’t particularly like it when I pointed out that he was sexually assaulting women and said it wasn’t like that. I again pointed out, and added, that sexual assault could result in jail time. Again, he assured me, with a smile on his face, that it wasn’t like that.

I am NOT talking about just checking out a girl’s body. I am not talking about glancing while her back is turned so you can check out her ass, or checking out her boobs while she’s got her head turned.
I am talking about craning your neck while trying to walk on the treadmill, to the point that you have to hang on to prevent you from falling, just because you want to see how my boobs look while I’m running. If you think it’s okay to do that then you, my friend, are a piece of shit for a human being and I hope you get stuck in a small room with a very big and scary person who thinks you should be their sexual bitch.

Men. I have to ask, is this behaviour okay with you? Do you not know what sexual harassment is? Do you not think that just because I have tits that I don’t hate every unwanted set of eyes looking at them?? If this were your daughter, would you stare at her tits the way you stare at mine? Would you be okay with men staring at her tits the way you stare at mine? Yes, there’s a huge difference between your daughter and my chest, but it comes down to respect. Treat me how you would treat your daughter.

But, because some men don’t get it, here’s what the problem is:
It’s not that you’re looking at my chest. Everyone looks at everyone else. That’s just human nature. Admire beautiful things.

The problem is that I shouldn’t be made to feel so uncomfortable, so disgusting in my own body, so disgusted BY my body, just because, just for being, a woman.
You see, every time a man disgustingly ogles a woman’s chest, or ass, or whistles at her just for walking down the street, we feel gross in our own bodies. Our bodies are bringing us shame. And no, you don’t see it like that because you are not me. You are not the woman who was raped, or the girl who sexually molested. You don’t understand. All you see is that you see a pretty girl, or a girl with a great rack, and you think about what they look like undressed. Or whatever your reasons are for looking at my chest for 30 seconds.

You see, it’s a power thing. It’s a physical thing. For the same reason that many men aren’t okay being hit on by a man: Because someone who is stronger than you could actually hurt you and make you do things that you do not want to do. Because you
Rape is a very real thing for women. And it has absolutely nothing to do with what we’re wearing and everything to do with the asshole behind the prick. It has everything to do with control and taking away from the woman, disrespecting the woman, taking away her power over her own body.

You may not have any respect for women because somewhere along the way, some woman treated you with such contempt that you now hate all women. Chances are it was your Mommy or the first woman you had sex with, and she made fun of your premature ejaculation. God only knows what your issue is. But I am done. I am done giving you the satisfaction of knowing you make me uncomfortable and I will now start calling you out every time you check out my tits in a disrespectful and disgusting manner. I will call you out publicly and I will publicly shame you. Why? Because if you’re going to try and take from me the power I have over my own body, then I will take it right back.


revetro + Alice & Lois + Instagram = a new ring!

I have previously blogged about how amazing and gorgeous the items in this Etsy shop are. reVetro takes old glass bottles, cuts them, tumbles them until they’re soft around the edges, and produces beautiful jewelry. (Edit: to be honest, I’m not sure what their process is, I’m merely speculating. Surely they’ll forgive me if I’m wrong)
It’s a stunning way to (re)create beautiful pieces of jewelry, at affordable prices for you (the buyer), and clean up the earth a bit.



I follow reVetro on facebook (and you should, too! They’re always doing some sort of contest or giveaway. They’re not only supremely talented, they’re generous, too) and saw that they were doing a giveaway through Alice & Lois through Instagram.
I was just coming off the high of winning a beautiful wooden burned spoon that Ashleigh Richer of ARicher Designs had made me for (because I won it!) (also, the wooden spoon can be seen in the background of the mug cozies) and thought, huh. Why not enter into this IG giveaway.
All I had to do was share this photo and follow all the rules:


Share it I did and, lo and behold, I won!

reVetro Win

reVetro Win

I can’t tell you how excited I was! Still am, in fact!! I am not ashamed to admit it – I jumped for joy. A week after being announced the winner, guess what showed up on my doorstep. I ripped that sucker open like I was Ralphie on Christmas morning.


What’s so awesome about this shop is that a little card comes with the piece of jewelry (card not photographed because I’m a boob. I do still have the card, though, so I will eventually get around to adding it here) and they’ve ticked off what your glass is made from (Bombay Sapphire Gin Bottle) as well as the material of the ring itself (pewter).


The hardest part now is deciding whether to wear it on my middle finger (where I loved wearing an old green amber piece but the band broke) (how sad was I when that happened!!!) or my ring finger. Yes! The ring is adjustable! How convenient, I know. I’m fickle and switch it up regularly, simply because I can’t decide which way looks better.

(my apologies for the oversized veins in this one)


I would dearly like to thank both reVetro and Alice & Lois for hosting this giveaway, and for whomever allowed me to win this gorgeous ring. I love it so much! I show it off to everyone and tell them where they can buy their own.


Alice & Lois:

ARicher Designs:

642 Things To Write About #1

What Can Happen In A Second.


Five years ago, Lily’s life changed in ways she could never have imagined.
Her son, Jaden, was four years old when he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and, two months later, he passed away in the arms of her and her husband, Jacob. They didn’t have time to process the diagnosis, never mind his death. Jaden’s absence became more and more heavy on their hearts and his room, untouched two years later, marked the grave they refused to purchase. It marked the death they couldn’t acknowledge yet sat in every room they existed in, dancing in their peripheral vision.

On the third anniversary of Jaden’s death both Lily and Jacob took the day off from work but didn’t tell each other they’d done so. They each spent the day in solitary meditation. Lily had gone to Jaden’s favourite beach and Jacob had walked through Jaden’s favourite playground. Jacob felt the eyes of each parent staring at him, silently telling him to keep his infectious death away from their children. His heart heavy with pain and sorrow, he got back into his car and drove to a pub close to his old apartment and drank in the corner of the bar, where it was dimly lit and no one, but the waitress, could see his tears.
Lily, back from the beach, her face stained with tears and her feet wet from the ocean, turned her cell phone back on. She had 27 missed calls on her phone, all from the Queen’s County Medical Hospital. Her husband had been in a car accident and could she please come quickly.

When Lily arrived at the hospital she was out of breath. She’d been yelling the whole way to the hospital, “Not this day, not this day, not this day…” It had become a mantra, to keep her remaining family intact, to try and cheat Death from taking more of her heart away. After Jaden died she was sure Death had taken the whole thing. That her chest was nothing but an empty cavity.

The doctor took her to her husband’s room and pushed papers into her throbbing chest, asking her to sign it for organ donation. The nurses were saying her name but all she could see was her husband, tubes coming from his mouth, blood all over his swollen face and chest.

Lily could hear nothing but a roaring noise in her ears. She was sure this was Death, coming for her husband. Though she couldn’t see Him, she felt Him in the room with her. It was a dance she knew too well. She heard the doctor’s voice speaking to her, explaining the accident, as he knew it to have been, but she comprehended little. All she knew was that her life had ended, this very same day, three years ago. How she had managed to carry on, how either of them had managed to carry on, she could never fathom.
Now, she could see very little. Her vision was blurry and all she could hear was her own heart beating in her ears, her own blood coursing through her veins, the beep of the machine that was keeping her husband alive and out of nowhere, her name, a question. “Lily?”
The priest, Father Patrick, who had sat with her and Jacob when Jaden lay dying, was here now. She blinked when she looked at him, the tears starting to flow freely now, and said, “Jacob…”
Father Patrick took her in his arms and, as they were going to take her husband away for his organs, her knees buckled and the reality of her grief, of her empty heart and sorrowful soul, knocked the wind from her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

Almost a year later, after speaking with Father Patrick before the anniversaries of the deaths of her husband and her child, she had made a final decision. She’d spoken to Father Patrick about the decision she’d made and asked him if it was selfish. He could only tell her that she had to do what she felt was the right decision.
For years Jacob had been promising to take her to the Grand Canyon. She decided to take the trip herself, carrying both her husband and her child in her heart. As she slowly climbed to the top of the cliff, the wind was roaring in her ears. She could feel Death. Again, they were doing this strange, yet familiar dance.
She spent quite a few minutes sitting at the top, looking over the beauty of the land, taking it in one last time. Her first, and her last sunrise in the Grand Canyon, had been spent camping here. She’d never seen anything so breathtaking. She was sure she’d never see anything so beautiful again.
Finally, at the same time that her husband died, she took a step and leaped off the cliff. The wind, Death, roared beautifully in her ears and she laughed. She laughed until she cried and screamed goodbye. She screamed goodbye to her dead child and husband, she screamed goodbye to the house she’d sold a month before, she screamed goodbye to the life she’d lived.
She closed her eyes for she knew the end was near. She could see it coming and braced herself. In the darkness behind her lids she replayed her favourite memories of when they were still a full family. Full of love, full of laughter, full of life. She smiled softly and the tears, locked behind those closed eyes, made the memories seem like a watercolour painting. “Goodbye,” she whispered.

The snap of the bungee cord forced her eyes open and, as she dangled there, she said goodbye to the ghosts of her husband and her child, the life she’d lived with them, and the life she’d lived in their absence. She apologized to them both for choosing life.

Cabled Coffee Mug Cozy {image heavy}

My friend Keri from The Quilted Valkyrie ( ) sent me a pin of a photo of a cabled coffee mug cozy. I have been considering making something like that for a few years but I’m just not sure if it’s something people would be interested in. Generally I don’t make things unless people suggest them to me, because then at least I know what people want or what’s trending.

…I can’t believe I just said that. Trending.

Anyhow. I whipped this up the other night at work and took photos yesterday. Here’s my first foray into mug cozies, or, as I prefer to call them, Mug Huggers (oh come on. mug huggers is a cute name!!). I used Bernat Mosaics “Into The Woods” yarn, which is gorgeous, and the colours in this are khaki and ash grey. I’m pretty pleased with it and stuck two gorgeous wooden buttons on it.

I’ve photographed the cozy on two different styles of pottery mug, both from The Village Pottery in PEI, Canada, just to show that the cozy will fit most standard sizes of mug.

Also, the wooden spoon in the background was made for me by ARicher Designs:
And the logo for my shop (and the writing that is on the spoon) was designed by Thunderpeep Designs:

Click on the first picture and it should take you to the Etsy listing.

Knitty Little Secret

Knitty Little Secret