Oscar Sleepover & The 82 Year Slump Is Over

Oh my gosh. I can't believe it. I fell asleep during the Oscar's and missed the ending....that's the best part! These photos are my picks for stunning highlights. I just lost it when Steve and Alec did the 'sleeping in bed together' spoof. That was truly hysterical. Can't you relate? I also laughed uncontrollably when Ben Stiller did the fishing rod bit with his Avatar Pandoric tail!!! And finally, a woman wins 'best director'! The 82 year slump is over. Now little girls everywhere and women too.....all of us...any age...know that award is open to anyone. Cool. (I didn't see the Hurt Locker...I assumed it was super violent...bloody...was it?) So how do you feel about the winners or do you even care? Oh, and the most beautiful woman: hands down: Mariska Hargitay in black. Ooh la la.

We Are More by Shane Koyczan

We Are More
by Shane Koyczan
When defining Canada
you might list some statistics
you might mention our tallest building
or biggest lake
you might shake a tree in the fall
and call a red leaf Canada
you might rattle off some celebrities
might mention Buffy Sainte-Marie
might even mention the fact that we've got a few
Barenaked Ladies
or that we made these crazy things
like zippers
electric cars
and washing machines
when defining Canada
it seems the world's anthem has been
" been there done that"
and maybe that's where we used to be at
it's true
we've done and we've been
we've seen
all the great themes get swallowed up by the machine
and turned into theme parks
but when defining Canada
don't forget to mention that we have set sparks
we are not just fishing stories
about the one that got away
we do more than sit around and say "eh?"
and yes
we are the home of the Rocket and the Great One
who inspired little number nines
and little number ninety-nines
but we're more than just hockey and fishing lines
off of the rocky coast of the Maritimes
and some say what defines us
is something as simple as please and thank you
and as for you're welcome
well we say that too
but we are more
than genteel or civilized
we are an idea in the process
of being realized
we are young
we are cultures strung together
then woven into a tapestry
and the design
is what makes us more
than the sum total of our history
we are an experiment going right for a change
with influences that range from a to zed
and yes we say zed instead of zee
we are the colours of Chinatown and the coffee of Little Italy
we dream so big that there are those
who would call our ambition an industry
because we are more than sticky maple syrup and clean snow
we do more than grow wheat and brew beer
we are vineyards of good year after good year
we reforest what we clear
because we believe in generations beyond our own
knowing now that so many of us
have grown past what used to be
we can stand here today
filled with all the hope people have
when they say things like "someday"
someday we'll be great
someday we'll be this
or that
someday we'll be at a point
when someday was yesterday
and all of our aspirations will pay the way
for those who on that day
look towards tomorrow
and still they say someday
we will reach the goals we set
and we will get interest on our inspiration
because we are more than a nation of whale watchers and lumberjacks
more than backpacks and hiking trails
we are hammers and nails building bridges
towards those who are willing to walk across
we are the lost-and-found for all those who might find themselves at a loss
we are not the see-through gloss or glamour
of those who clamour for the failings of others
we are fathers brothers sisters and mothers
uncles and nephews aunts and nieces
we are cousins
we are found missing puzzle pieces
we are families with room at the table for newcomers
we are more than summers and winters
more than on and off seasons
we are the reasons people have for wanting to stay
because we are more than what we say or do
we live to get past what we go through
and learn who we are
we are students
students who study the studiousness of studying
so we know what as well as why
we don't have all the answers
but we try
and the effort is what makes us more
we don't all know what it is in life we're looking for
so keep exploring
go far and wide
or go inside but go deep
go deep
as if James Cameron was filming a sequel to The Abyss
and suddenly there was this location scout
trying to figure some way out
to get inside you
because you've been through hell and high water
and you went deep
keep exploring
because we are more
than a laundry list of things to do and places to see
we are more than hills to ski
or countryside ponds to skate
we are the abandoned hesitation of all those who can't wait
we are first-rate greasy-spoon diners and healthy-living cafes
a country that is all the ways you choose to live
a land that can give you variety
because we are choices
we are millions upon millions of voices shouting
" keep exploring... we are more"
we are the surprise the world has in store for you
it's true
Canada is the "what" in "what's new?"
so don't say "been there done that"
unless you've sat on the sidewalk
while chalk artists draw still lifes
on the concrete of a kid in the street
beatboxing to Neil Young for fun
don't say you've been there done that
unless you've been here doing it
let this country be your first-aid kit
for all the times you get sick of the same old same old
let us be the story told to your friends
and when that story ends
leave chapters for the next time you'll come back
next time pack for all the things
you didn't pack for the first time
but don't let your luggage define your travels
each life unravels differently
and experiences are what make up
the colours of our tapestry
we are the true north
strong and free
and what's more
is that we didn't just say it
we made it be.

(Opening Ceremonies 2010 Winter Olympics)

Abortion + My Book

My novel, 'BABIES', deals with some difficult themes. One of them is abortion. It was the hardest part of the book to write. (In fact, there's more to that story and what happened to me when I wrote one specific chapter. I'll save that for down the road)

On January 28, 2010, Ruth Proskauer Smith died in Manhatten at the age of 102. Smith co-founded the National Association for the Repeal of Abortion Laws, which later became the National Abortion Rights Action League and is today known as NARAL Pro-Choice America. Smith was born into a life of privilege and politics; her father Joseph Meyer Proskauer was a New York State Supreme Court Judge and a close associate of Governor Al Smith. Her mother, Alice Naumburg Proskauer, was an activist in the right-to-die movement who founded the Euthanasia Society of America, a cause that Smith would later take on herself. After graduating from Radcliffe, marrying, and getting divorced, Smith became involved in the reproductive rights movement as a fieldworker for Planned Parenthood of Massachusetts in the 1940s. She later became the executive secretary of that organization, and helped lead the fight to legalize contraceptives in Massachusetts, a state dominated by the interests of the Catholic Church. After losing that battle, Smith met Margaret Sanger ***, who introduced her to the radical concept of abortion rights as a vital part of reproductive health. Returning to her home state of New York in 1953, she directed family planning services at Mount Sinai Hospital, an experience that opened her eyes to the direct impact class had on abortion access. In 1969, Smith co-founded NARAL. Four year later, the Supreme Court decision Roe v. Wade legalized abortion in the United States, in no small part thanks to the dedication of groups like NARAL and Planned Parenthood. Smith remained active in NARAL's New York chapter, and continued to advocate for the "right-to-die," contributing greatly to pro-euthanasia campaigns in the 1990s. Even as a centenarian, Smith worked, teaching other senior citizens about the Supreme Court as part of the City University of New York's Quest program (a job that was described quite charmingly in a New York Times profile in 2008).

***Sanger was an avid defender of free speech who was arrested at least eight times for expressing her views in a time when speaking publicly in favor of birth control was illegal.

PLEASE take a few moments to honor Ruth by watching this video. She has an urgent message for women everywhere. LPXO

The High Roller With Gratitude Attitude

Life is full of hills and valleys, good times and bad - happy, sad, up, down and back around again. Right now I'm feeling hopeful and encouraged and overflowing with gratitude - and it is effecting my attitude nicely. Change is positive. New beginnings and creative output. You, my dearest reader are part of that. Thank You.

I Will Live Out Loud

"I will not be silenced; I will live out loud. I will not edit or censor myself; I will tell the truth. I will not be safe; I will be dangerous, provocative, risky, and bold." - Ronna Detrick

missing loved ones?

Bubbyland Gifts

Oh, there are many perks to visiting 'Bubbyland'. One is kisses and the other is hugs. Now...look! A little note and a special book has been left on the keyboard for me. Lucky Bubby. xo

My Elevator Speech

Hello! My name is Patti Friday. I am a Canadian who writes content for online and traditional media . I also create photographs and multi-media to accompany my words. I'd love to work with you! You may reach me here: libertypost (at) gmail (dot) com. (What's yours?)

Here are some reader favorites.

Chiffon Is A Lovely Word

What does it mean to you? What colour do you see? Chiffon. The feel of the word leaving my lips is sheer and wispy and soft; a hush of sound. Sensual. Yummy. Chiffon brings back memories. Was it your prom dress or honeymoon lingerie? Did you learn to bake a lemon chiffon cake in 'home ec' or your Bubby's kitchen? (Speaking of home ec, I wish they'd bring that back don't you? For boys and girls.) When you think of chiffon do you visualize fashion couture and Paris or Hollywood glamour? For some I've spoken to, chiffon conjures up tackiness, cheap and passe. I picture a chiffon cheesecake; light and airy. The kind that melts on the tip of my wet tongue. I long for photo shoots on breezy beaches, capturing billowing yards of chiffon flying above and over the foamy shore. Chiffon makes me happy. Nostalgic. My Mother sewing dresses in dim light, late at night on the dining room table. Chiffon is a lovely word. What does it mean to you? What colour do you see?

Brisbane, Queensland, Australia: Thank You

Humbling. A weighty word that I am not taking lightly today, for I have received a wonderful compliment about my novel 'Babies'. (all the way from Down Under! - from a Blogger/Business Owner who is excited to be reinventing an online business...I can't wait - can you!) It means so much to me that people are enjoying the book. I am. I am humbled. Thank You 'Armchair Trader' - loving their chandelier - (a.k.a. A-M of The House That A-M Built) for this comment: "Loved your book. Couldn't put it down. So sad when one finishes a book... wished it could go on and on." - A-M xx

I Rolled A Joint For You: It's Complicated

Head on over to Joni's and Linda's for a mind-blowing uncomplicated design experience. Meyers rocks. (Listen and watch Nancy Meyers explain how she creates a scene. Go here to the NY Times Movies section. Soundtrack - fab - details here.) You can read more about the set design online at Traditional Home. Killer movie. I laughed, I cried. (you can watch the trailer here....by the way this website is my Brother's company....I bookmarked it because it's the best place on the whole web to find out what's being released each week!) My date was my 14 year old Son and he even loved it!!! (Years ago...way back in the 70's, - I was known as 'The High Roller' because I could roll the sexiest, neat 'n tidy-designed joints.) By the way...when was the last time you smoked weed?

How Pro-Choice Are You?

Just wondering. (I think my novel makes my position abundantly clear. Or does it?)

In Time For The Holidays

"Patti..... I picked up your book last night and did not put it down until hours later when I finished reading the last page! I was intrigued by Sydney’s story and I wanted to know what she would choose for herself, where she would end up, and if she would follow her passions and creativity. I LOVED this book from the be...ginning to the amazing ending! Anyone who picks up this book will not be disappointed because it is a touching and inspiring story! Congratulations on publishing your book, I hope many read it and fall in love with it like I did!" - xoxo, Sarah Walter!

(Just a nudge and a wink that all orders for my novel will be in your hands to wrap in time for the Holidays if you place your order by Dec. 1st. Love LP xo)

What's Your Equation?

Women, for the most part, continue to define themselves with words like 'Mom, Wife, Friend, Sister, Daughter'. I'm here to rock that boat baby! Your assignment (should you choose to accept it) is to excavate 3 special words that define you (without using those mommy/wifey words I've listed). Who are you, really? What gets you hot? What makes your back shiver and your loins burn? What gives you a tingling tummy and a racing heartbeat? I have discovered - in part from living 50 years - and also through creating Liberty Post, that I am most certainly "Photographer + Blogger = Cultural Producer". Let me explain: I love imagery and making imagery which I love to share with others, make for others and publish for others = Photographer. Blogging captures all the things I dig. Writing, publishing, social media, magazine-like behaviors, dialogue, feedback, ego-stroking (recognition), vulnerability (like this!), the Internet, photography, editorial, expressing my viewpoint = Blogger. Because I photograph and blog I am producing cultural content for the world = Cultural Producer. (A worthy vocation I might add) The things I have, am and will produce don't necessarily need to be online either. All these activities that rock my epicenter will extend into the 'real world' through guest speaking, arts events, workshops, products, books, consulting, videos, podcasts, advising and a whole host of many other ideas I'm stockpiling. So you. What's your equation?

A Second Helping Of Cracker Jack

Cracker Jack

Her brain was different. She couldn’t remember the sweltering hot summer evenings they giggled in the bleachers watching the boys play baseball. After school they’d skip home, gulp down milk on the back shed stoop. The smell of lumpy bags of potatoes and carrots leaning up in the woody, dark corner filled the hot air. After the last bite of the fresh baked cookie they’d race up the back staircase into her bedroom. Fussing and flopping onto the bed; deciding what to wear to the game. Pinching their cheeks with cream rouge and tinting their youthful pouts with red lipstick. Evelyn’s brain was different and her best friend Delores would never be able to thank her. It was forty-three years later. Evelyn just sat in her chair, lap quilt covering her legs, starring out the window. Delores came every day to visit. There were only three things that lit up Evelyn’s eyes. The taste of Cracker Jack, the feel of her sheepskin mittens of winters long ago and the sight of her tattered photograph of her and Delores. These are the three things that connected them to their past and after an hour of them, Delores would give hugs and walk out the door.Evelyn and Delores met in fourth grade. There were exactly fifteen row houses between them and two fire hydrants. Evelyn’s parents ran the furrier uptown and many winter afternoons when the storage section of the business was slow, the girls would be hired to clean the large cooler room. Between the racks and empty hangers they would sing and dance; pretending they were on stage; performing to standing ovations and picking up dozens of roses off the creaky wooden floor. Evelyn had an imagination to carry them both through many boring moments. Her eyes would sparkle and then in a snap second she’d come up with a new and exciting idea for fun. After their housekeeping was finished they would head outside to play in the snow banks; sticking their tongues out to catch fluffy snowflakes. Eve and Delly laughed a lot. Eve possessed the kind of funny bone that made her whole body go weak when she found something humorous. More often than not they landed in the snow bank beside one another, tossing handfuls of snow at each other. One afternoon a reporter from the local newspaper stopped and asked them if he could photograph them. The girls loved this; insisting to their classmates that they had become famous and sure enough, the image landed on the front page along with a story about the severe weather the area was experiencing that year. Eve and Delly were each given a copy of the photo as a keepsake. Eve and Delly cried a lot too. Mostly about boys and mostly at the baseball field while they ate Cracker Jack as they watched the practices. As they moved through womanhood, mysterious adolescent moods and awkward boyfriend experiences, they supported each other. Giving hugs and making crafty greeting cards. They were always grateful and said so in their many scribbled notes to one another, ‘Thank goodness only one of us gets sad at one time. xo.’ Delly met Jack the year of the girls’ high school graduation. He was new to town and swept her off her feet. Eve was never left behind. It was the unwritten law of the ‘Cracker Jack Girls’, as they were known by everybody who knew them. Delly and Jack and Eve were inseparable. And then Jack proposed. Eve was the most beautiful Maid of Honor anyone had ever seen. Some whispered, ‘Prettier than the Bride’. After the ‘I Do’s’ it all changed. Delly’s husband became more and more adamant that his new wife be home to see to his needs; pressures of the weak economy brought more stress on the newlyweds. He became irritated at Delly for talking about Eve. He slowly silenced her and quickly built a wall and a wedge between the best friends. People in town saw Eve’s sad eyes. Jack became known as ‘Cracker Jack’. A negative judgment of a husband who erased a childhood friendship. Eve and Delly were resilient and resourceful. They could speak without speaking, they could communicate by sense and both were determined to change the way things had gone. The baseball diamond was the only place they could visit. Eve started dating a player on Jack’s team. She didn’t even really like him much; she just knew it was her chance at ‘bat’. To be with Delly. To keep her friendship alive. One evening after dinner, Eve gathered up the courage to walk the three blocks over to Delly’s apartment. She thought it would be nice to sit out on the porch until sunset. Perhaps lemonade. Maybe a few cigarettes. Hopefully acceptance and hugs. What she came upon would change their lives forever. As Eve approached the building she could hear muffled screams of Jack. He was hollering at Delly. Eve’s heart started pounding as she ran up the narrow stairs to the second floor. She banged on the door calling out for Del. ‘Go away Eve’, he shouted. ‘You have no business being here. Leave!’ Panicking to open the door she yelled to the neighbours below to come and help. Within seconds they ran up to kick in the thick wood door. It slammed to the floor. There inside, huddled in the corner was a tearful, distraught Delly. Covering her head, begging for kindness within a rage of violence. Jack was wielding his baseball bat.‘ Stay away from her Jack’ screamed Eve. ‘Don’t touch her.’ The neighbours tried to calm Jack down while Eve made jerking attempts to get past him. It was a frightful segment of confusion and shouting and fear and pleading. Jack warned them. He threatened to hit Delly if they did not leave his home. And then Eve moved in. She ducked around Jack to cover Delly. Standing tall she announced to him to back away. And then he swung. The heavy, heaving bat hit Evelyn’s temple with a watery, horrific smack. Her brain was different.

Stay In Your Lane

You have to stay in your own lane; that sacred contract place - the contract that was signed by you and your higher power - witnessed by the universe and milky way. When you stay in your lane you will get to your destination quicker and you will have less accidents. And you ask, 'what destination?'. And it is whispered back to you, 'Eternal Bliss, Population 1'. Are you in your lane? Spill.

Brock University and My Book

This is a wonderful way to end a morning and begin an afternoon: Receiving a photo of your novel in a student's room....ready for reading....she just received it! I am so thrilled. (little 'Babies' everywhere) ****Order by Dec. 1st for Holiday delivery**** Thank You Sarah Walter!!! You just made my day!