jacks’ hawaiian thoughts

i just got back from hawaii. jealous? of course you are. but please temper your jealous rage with the fact that it was a hard won vacation. first i had to:

complete a draft of my dissertation (which also explains why i haven’t blogged in about a billion light years)
mark a billion papers
and turn thirty

well the turning thirty thing was actually the impetus for going to the islands. t-bone, in all of his magnificence, surprised me with the trip on my birthday. yes. my 30 birthday. not a spring chicken any more folks. nope. i’m practically a cougar. speaking of cougars – here are some of my hawaiian thoughts. as in, i had these thoughts on my hawaiian vacation. and no. none of them actually have anything to do with cougars. but a segue is a segue folks. deal with it.

thought #1: are japanese people from japan MUCH cooler than white north americans? the answer my friends is yes. so very, very much cooler. AND more stylish. poor us.

thought #2: why is visiting the united states of america the equivalent of a food assault? the restaurant nearest to us (a twenty-four hour diner) served so much food to us that i almost started crying. i saved my tears however for the food pounding i got at red lobster. i am still not sure if it was because of how much my distended stomach hurt or because the pina colada sauce they serve with the coconut shrimp will bring you to f-ing tears.

thought #3: why wasn’t i born on one of the polynesian islands? huh? i was BORN to fast hip shake dance (i actually think i patented that on the dance floors of o-town in my youth), hula dance, and eat coconut. f-ing BORN for it.

thought #4: is buying and wearing 4 spf sunscreen bad?

thought #5: i am AWESOME at surfing. why the f do i live in canada?

thought #6: mai tais are like a meal. booze. cherry. pineapple. booze. i will have one a day from now on. forever.

thought #7: mai tais make me wanna take mai top off.

thought #8: t-bone is really cute. especially with his hawt tan. how do i get him to take his top off? i know! another round of mai tais!

thought #9: my ty is the best kind of mai tai.

thought #10: how long have i been in the sun with top off? why is my glass empty? where the f is t-bone?

and basically it just deteriorated from there.

i f-ing love hawaii and i can’t wait to go back next year. hear that t-bone? i will be turning thirty again. and again. and again…

(p.s. i didn’t see dog. or leland. but not for lack of trying).

mrs. jacks chapman – or mrs. dog jr. to you b*tch

today my little exposition is going to be about my two new and favouritest obsessions: dog the bounty hunter and survivorman. no – they are not in any way related (aside from being reality television shows) but that is not going to stop me from including both in this posting. and no – i don’t care if you don’t care.

so what i am going to do here (if only i could be this clear in the writing of my dissertation) is compare/contrast the shows and generally tell you what i love about them. and in the spirit of valentine’s day, add another random (and let’s face it) not-that-attractive guy to my list of “celebrity crushes.” you guessed it – leland chapman – or dawg jr to you b*tch.

here goes.

1. i love leland. not cause he is a hawt dawg or because he seems especially smart or engaging. i love him because he says “how’s it” the cutest out of all the members of his much-too-large family. also, he looks nothing like the rest of his family (save possibly his uncle. i’m not making any accusations…i’m just sayin’)

2. i love when survivorman (let’s affectionately call him les, yes?) becomes kind of a whiny b*tch on his show. the premise – for those who don’t know –  is that basically he gets dropped somewhere remote and has to survive for 7 days – without food, water, and (sometimes) shelter. he survives by his wits and sometimes looses his shit. those episodes are my favourite. like the man hasn’t eaten in days, bathed, been warm (or dry, or cool – depending on the climate), had water in some cases, or talked to anyone and the minute he starts complaining about his situation i’m all like – “what a baby!” then i try – but don’t always succeed – in telling myself i seriously wouldn’t last an hour. and i would definitely be dead in two.

3. this season dog has gotten much more violent. dog himself routinely yells “motherf*cker” at his ‘prey’ upon catching them and then he tries to save their souls. this is a somewhat welcomed change from the highly anti climatic run-up to someone turning themselves in and then getting asked if they have jesus in their lives. just my opinion.

4. les – on survivorman, stay with me here – kills at least one wild animal a show. every time he does he gives the same spiel – “i hate the thought of killing any animal. but when survival is at stake, any life is fair game” or something to that effect. every time he kills the animal though i judge (against the cuteness of the animal of course) which one of them i would rather see survive. les buddy, you are like losing three to ten. sorry dude.

5. beth’s breasts are seriously distracting. so are her nails. but i love her insofar as she subscribes to my motto: go big or go home b*tch.

6. okay both shows are highly gendered – just give me this moment’s ranty pants. oh yeah – and classed. oh yeah – and racialized. firstly, beth and baby lisa (can you believe they call their 27-year-old daughter this? but then again, my mother does still introduce me as her baby. so horrifyingly embarrassing. *shudder*) are always sent in to homes to talk to women in order to extract information by the very nature of their womanliness. dog himself is what i like to call a neo-sexist – you know, the older guy who likes to couch sexist (and sometimes misogynist – but always essentializing) comments in ‘joking’ terms – like “women can’t drive” and “men are the boss.” also, beth uses slang with racialized people but talks ‘normally’ with white hawaiians. also, i think the very notion of putting yourself – voluntarily – into survival situations is very gendered – read: ‘masculine.’ the notion that you can survive in the wild reminds me of the rugged (and misogynist) individualism expounded by certain men’s rights groups. also, it is *such* a classed activity. it is like how we go camping to ‘rough it.’ only a culture of plenty seeks to deny ourselves for leisure. k. rant over.

7. 90% of dog is about driving around in suvs and talking shit. it is like the perfect road trip.

8. 90% of survivorman is talking about fire. or making fire. or carrying fire from one place to another. or crying over fires gone out. producers: give the guy a lighter so i can hear him bitch and moan more. cause that is what that show is missing. drama.

9. i might have had a dream where leland and les get it on. first in the bc backwoods, then in a suv filled with people.

10. naw. i’m just messing with you. i’m just hoping to have a dream like that. i’ll keep you posted.

please share your own insights and/or fantasies about the shows. and don’t say that you don’t watch them.

cause i know you’re lyin’ b*tch.

an open letter to boob fans

because of the recent spike in activity on my blog, mainly because of my inclusion of the word “boob” in a recent post (well, only because of that really), i have decided to write an open letter to all the people out there who come to my blog, hoping for boobs, only to be disappointed by a discussion of women’s agency. boo-urns, eh? i bet it is a little disappointing for them. and i want them to know that they are welcomed and cared for by the thoughtful spaz, despite the fact that she ain’t got what they are googlin’. so here goes kids.

dear boob fetishist,

firstly, thank you for the enlightening and eye-opening introduction into the world of breast-obsession. while i have a set of my own, and seriously admire a nice rack, i have always felt somewhat outside your world. however, i underestimated your kindness and generousity in letting me in and your willingness to openly google (cause i can see what terms you’ve entered that brought you to my site, in case you didn’t know) phrases such as: “getting milk from boobs,” “milk boobs,” and, my personal favourite, “feeding milk and sex.” now while it is possible that santa googled the last phrase (that kinky bastard), i think i am recognizing a trend that doesn’t have much to do with the rights of breastfeeding mothers, women’s agentic acts of nudity, women’s choice, or even naturism. but i have to hand it to you, you have certainly opened my eyes to a new fetish. one that i would now like to inquire about.

basically i just have one question.

what the f*ck is that all about?

now, please don’t take this as a judgment. i consider myself an open-minded person who appreciates the “queering” of everyday lives and sexual desires. and i get that it’s nasty and taboo and all oedipal and such. but i wonder what actual images you are searching for. and if you ever find yourself in uncomfortable or compromising conversations with lactating mothers. perhaps, using my blog as a launching post, you could begin a handbook on your particular fetish and inform the world. and also find yourselves a name. lactoerotics? milkers? i’ll leave the ultimate decision up to you.

in conclusion, thank you for expanding my world and making me think more about what breast milk tastes like. or at least what you think it tastes like. and thank you as well for expanding the notion of what it means to be a mother. you have even managed to sexualize breast milk. i am gonna give you a big bravo on that one.

yours breastfully,

jacks

p.s. – please consider the pillow above something you could take with you to work to get through those long days. or hump like my friend J.’s dog does to his doggie bed. totally up to you.

jacks’ new obsession: boobs. well. sorta.

so thanks to work i used to do on public nudity i still know folks in the nudy petudy business. and that has meant, strangely, that my new year has been filled with well…boobies. and lots of ’em. lemmie ‘splain.

a sage and mentor of the naturist movement whom i know, and once had a clothed interview audience with, is a defiant advocate for the right to breastfeed in public. in particular, his most recent cause is for facebook to stop removing breastfeeding photos arbitrarily that someone in the faceless realm of facebook censorship – is it you mark zuckerburg? – considers “vaguely pornographic.” apparently facebook has a problem with nipples. who knew? well. maybe some of you did. you dirty beasts.

anyhoo.

so this leads me to the question – which is not what you are thinking and sorry P. that i might not be going in the intended direction – but when is a child too old to breastfeed? or wait. is that the question? the boob fire has been lit under me and now it just needs to be discussed dammit. call it jacks’ war on nipples. or nipplepalooza. or nipplefest. just make sure there are nipples.

i just watched a “newsmagazine” about this topic and they took this issue to heart showing four-year-olds and eight-year-olds nursing. of course this causes uproar. disgust. outrage. but why? why can’t women catch a break? which brings us to the gendered nature of tits (doesn’t it?). my next research project. (just kidding. well. maybe). but really, the women interviewed make the helpful and important distinction – which is the direction i believe P. is going in – which is a legitimate, feminist point about the right of women to bare their breasts in the “service” of feeding their children the “natural” way. but as always, this fight turns into something else. the right for women to connect with their bodies and their children in “natural” ways. which essentializes. and we don’t like that, do we dear bloggy friends?

my frustration is focused on the dichotomy which is inevitably created between the “naturalness” of the naked human body, especially women’s bodies (we are closer to nature, dontcha know? all godless-like and such. borf) and the seemingly un-naturalness of sexuality. or the apparent division between the two. i mean i get it. i studied naturists for long enough to know that the only way you make yourself legitimate as a naked person in public is by saying that it’s “natural” and not “sexual,”  thus creating the bind that these women find themselves in. the argument goes something like this: i should be able to post my booby my pics on facebook because i am doing a natural motherly thing feeding them (the age thing is still the wildcard here) and its not sexual because i am naturally made to feed kids. so it’s not sexual to show pics of my breasts when it is in the service of feeding my kids. k, all good. ‘cept for the fact that this argument requires you not only to make the relevant distinction between boobs for milk and boobs for sex (see above pic), but also requires women to turn themselves effectively into the “natural” baby-milking machine called mother. it requires a reliance on stereotypes of nurturing women and their proper role as caregiver. maybe this is just the eggnog talking, but it is a double-edged sword. not the nursing per se. but the lengths women go to legitimate the naturalness of boob-showing as a function of motherhood.

now, i don’t want anyone to get me wrong. i am an absolute, no question, fervent advocate of breastfeeding. in public. in private. in those cute little rooms in the mall that are made for moms that i wish i could go into without seeming creepy. but we women have enough to deal with without being the goddesses of milk. let’s advocate showing our tits for tits sake. let’s nipple it up. and someone pass the bottle.

epilogue: while i introduced the notion of older-age breastfeeding, i didn’t really address it. peruse the official petition to facebook about breastfeeding not being obscene and P.’s site for the banned facebook photos. tell me what you think about boobs. and eight-year-olds. cause this is important to the earth’s planetary rotation.

swears.