WLWL: Issue 6 by welikewelove

wlwl created by welikewelove.com

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a magazine about sharing the things you like

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contents

clockwise from top left:

3 red is best interview

36 ben

chapter 6

vulgaris

sun kissed

a sweet treat

photography

fashion

music

welcome

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vulgaris photography

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woodland wanderer photography { 29 }

featured blogger(s)

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music Treelines

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sun kissed fashion

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state of tHe blogospHere

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ben chapter 6

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meet... Promise Tangeman

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Hey lady advice/thoughts

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+ love for our contributors

red is best

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Heart to heart with Jessi Cruickshank

unfinisHed business fashion

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diy feathers in her hair

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sHow & tell toy story

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music The Honey Trees

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meet me at alt

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farewell be sparkle!

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welikewelove

a magazine about sharing the things you like & love

issue 6 * our CELEBRATION issue!

alyssa yuHas Creative Director ********

alyssa@welikewelove.com

liz field Managing Editor ********

CELEBRATE: On the heels of what has become the biggest consumer holiday of the year, we know purse strings may still be tight from the innumerable Christmas gifts you purchased. In a society saturated with celebrating everything with a sale, it somehow seems we’ve missed the point and come up short. We think real celebration might involve more than a reason to buy or consume, which only panders to our accumulation of “stuff”. Our calendars are littered with birthdays, anniversaries, holidays and events year after year–is it possible that we’ve become disconnected from why we celebrate? Celebration is inherently done in groups of two more. We believe this is because things are made better and more meaningful when they are shared. We believe that celebration makes people feel more connected with themselves and with one another, and is tied to the belief that your life is attached to something bigger than yourself. We believe that we celebrate because we want to feel a part of other’s success, and want others to feel a part of ours. When we celebrate, we think it makes it possible for the story we are telling to spill out and become a part of the story that others are telling.

liz@welikewelove.com

sHane yuHas Staff Photographer

Perhaps what we’re getting at is that when we think of celebrating, we don’t necessarily think of a particular event in time, but rather a posture of celebration that encourages community and creates common ground. And we think that sharing the things you like and love has everything to do with that.

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shane@shaneyuhas.com

As we settle into 2011, we want to encourage you to continue to cultivate a posture of celebration that has a tendency toward community, and that you will continue liking, loving, and sharing.

josH naud Copy Editor ********

Never again clutter your days or nights with so many menial and unimportant things that you have no time to accept a real challenge when it comes along. This applies to play as well as work. A day merely survived is no cause for celebration. You are not here to fritter away your precious hours when you have the ability to accomplish so much by making a slight change in your routine. No more busy work. No more hiding

thank you...

from success. Leave time, leave space, to grow. Now. Now! Not tomorrow! - Augustine Mandino II

to our amazing contributors

ania b., Blogger/Model brett fillmore, Writer colin way, Photographer dalyce cHomick, Storyteller elena jasic, Photographer elise trickey, Artist/Illustrator erin molly fitzpatrick, Photographer ginny brancH stelling, Blogger jessica pecHet, Photographer jennifer dickinson, Photographer jesse Harsanyi, Writer leaH van loon, Stylist micHelle crimmins, Writer promise tangeman, Blogger/Designer

tHis is our sixtH issue! wlwl is published 4 times a year & is available to purchase via

www.welikewelove.magcloud.com Read the blog, send us an email, submit to the magazine & support us by visiting > www.welikewelove.com. Thank you for your ongoing support of welikewelove! xoxo

front & back cover PHOTOgRaPHER Erin Molly Fitzpatrick, MODEL Desirae Odjick, CLOTHINg Fur: Vintage, grey top: Diesel. all other clothing provided by Milk Shop in Ottawa, Ontario. www.erinfitzpatrick.ca Erin Molly Fitzpatrick is a fine-art fashion photographer. With a background in journalism and print media, she is pursuing the commercial side of photography. She has worked in Ireland as well as throughout Canada and the U.S. Her print work is also in private collections throughout Canada, and the U.K. She now works and resides in Ottawa, Ontario, continuing in her photographic endeavours. She likes and loves: spending a large amount of her time in Calgary, A.B. with her family and friends, planning future photo shoots and collaborative projects, traveling, & a good book.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Next issue deadline is aPRIL 30th Email Liz at liz@welikewelove.com for more info

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www.ginnybranch.blogspot.com

GiNNY BRANCH StELLiNG Hotlanta, in the Peach State I’m a stylist, prop mistress, blogger, and author of the column, “What’s in your toolbox” for design*sponge. Wife to my childhood sweetheart and a huge supporter of nice girls, drag queen at heart. You will know me by my trail of sequins.

my top 10 loves: I’m kind of a love it or leave it kind of gal. If i’m into something, I LOVE it. • My husband Ed (the absolute love of my life), dogs (Harold and Maude), and my rockstar family and friends. Best things to have ever happened to me. • Collecting the old, chippy, peeling, neglected, forgotten and the careworn. I like my furniture and clothing the way I like people: unfussy, imperfect, and with lots of stories. • Beat-up leather backpacks stuffed with sketchbooks, fountain pens, and a good book. • Wildflowers in milk glass, mason jars, or old tea-tins. • Vintage glittery and sequined everything. The older the better. I like dingy, dirty kind of shiny things. • When someone else offers to drive. I just got my drivers license at the tender age of 26 and I love to not drive. • LOVE. I love love. • Red lipstick complementing a bare face. • Gratitude lists. • Wild, disheveled, unbrushed hair topped with hair accessories like hats, scarves, and hairbows.

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{ PHOtO } Josh goleman, www.joshgoleman.com

WE HEARt OUR CONtRiBUtORS! LEt’S FiND OUt WHAt tHEY LOVE: 1

1 Colin Way, Photographer, Calgary A.B., Likes homemade, old vinyl, & music festivals (photo by Jason Eng) 2 Jennifer Dickinson, Photographer, Victoria B.C., Likes the internet, white chocolate raspberry mocha from Starbucks, & cats 3 Jessica Pechet, Photographer, Calgary AB, Likes fashion television, Rue de la Pompe–Paris– vintage stores, & guacamole 4 Erin Molly Fitzpatrick, Photographer, Ottawa O.N., Likes

www.aniab.net

ANiA BONiECKA, model/blogger/accountant Calgary, A.B. Hailing from Szczecin, Poland, I moved to Canada with my parents 11 years ago. Soon after, I started working with a modelling agency in Calgary and before I knew it, I was travelling all over the world. My love for fashion did not emerge until well past high school. I started writing my blog about a year ago, as an outlet to share my day to day inspirations. About five months ago I started noticing the potential that it has to reach people around the world and the ability to obsess together over everything fashion. My biggest fashion inspiration is 80’s grunge (even though you wouldn’t always know it, I subconsciously incorporate it into my style everyday). Unlike what a lot of bloggers say; I LOVE trends. They inspire me above anything else. I love to see them evolve and change over time. Nothing is constant and that’s exciting about fashion. I try to stay creative by dabbling in styling, but there is so much to learn (and the fear of wrecking clothes also plays a big factor).

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likes: • Full bushy eyebrows (on boys & girls) • Hard to find french magazines • Faux furs • Fashion documentaries • The feel of clothes brand new from the store

loves: • All the people who avidly read my blog • Paris • Stripes • Cheesy chick flick comedies see ania model in • Red lips and gap teeth the fashion editorial Unfinished Business, pg 8

drinking good wine or Guinness, & writing in her journal (photo by Whitney Lewis-Smith) 5 Jesse Harsanyi, Writer, Lethbridge A.B., Likes uncontrollable laughter, snowboarding & mix C.D.’s 6 Brett Filmore, Writer, Vancouver B.C., Likes going to the ballpark, reverb & dipping sauces 7 Leah Van Loon, Fashion Stylist, Calgary A.B., Likes Palm Springs, my masseuse, & Lanvin resort 2011 8 Elena Jasic, Photographer, Philadelphia P.A., Likes travel, chai lattes, & international food

{ PHOtO } Jason Eng

RED IS BEST { Liz Field } likes vintage couches & doilies on everything { Matt Howe } likes to take photos & share them at www.matthowe.com

There seems to be something intrinsically intriguing about a redheaded girl. Especially if it’s natural red hair, and her fiery orange locks paint a sharp contrast to her pale and freckle-dusted skin. Redheads are a rare brand, and due to the laws of supply and demand, this makes them exotic. Just when you were growing overly comfortable in your blonde-brunette diametric of hair colour, and consequently life, now and then red hair will pop up out of nowhere and walk by you in the coffee shop, as it usually does, and turn the whole hair colour spectrum on its head, as if to say “There’s something else going on here. It’s not always yes or no. Sometimes it’s maybe.” This third dimension that red headed girls remind us of can make us wonder if they are receiving secret information about the universe, absorbed through roots of their spiced up follicles the blondes and brunettes are simply not privy to. Jessi Cruickshank seems to be no exception to the aforementioned redheaded rule. In fact, she seems to fit the redheaded bill to a tee. (See? How does she do that?) After four years of hosting MTV’s The Aftershow, Cruickshank essentially built her career on a quirky and intentionally awkward interviewing style, and satirizing the lives of cast members of reality TV shows, namely The Hills, alongside friend and former host Dan Levy. Once The Aftershow wrapped upon four wildly successful years, in tune with the series finale of The Hills, Cruickshank picked up her life in Toronto, O.N. and moved to Los Angeles to suss out career expanding opportunities. She

headed right into the Hollywood hills that she spent the last four years making fun of. Bold move? Naturally. But this Ginger isn’t armed with naive dreams and ambitions to fit the blonde and plastic mold of Hollywood. Instead, she is backed with four years of comedic reality show critique, and not to mention her mystery-infused mane of red hair, which seems to act as a shield to deflect all stereotypical expectations of a young woman establishing her career in Hollywood. Over the phone from her new home in L.A., she discusses the irony of her new zip code after forming her television identity adamantly opposed to it’s superficial offerings. “TV is tough. Especially if you want to work on air,” explains Cruickshank. “It’s hard to make that your goal.” Cruickshank confirms the opportunities are rare to break into the industry, and often too hard to come by. Needless to say, when she was younger, and even through college and university, planning a career on air was not something Cruickshank did. When the opportunity to send in a video for the casting call for MTV host, she was already working a full-time job in a special-needs drama program–a path she thought would entertain her long-term career goals. “I thought, ‘I have almost zero experience, but this sounds like fun,’ so I went for it,” she said. “But looking back I wasn’t a person who always wanted to be on T.V.” She explains her career is more a by product of walking through open doors, than the result of a previously established goal. Once she got the green light from MTV, she quickly learned that she loved the production side of television, and was producing episodes of The Aftershow in its fourth and final season. Her unrefined and honest approach to her work might just be why viewers respond so well to her. Asking unorthodox questions and inserting “inappropriate” information into interviews were almost mainstays for Cruickshank during her time at MTV, and quickly earned her a fearless reputation (and lengthy blooper reel). While some of her actions and comments were risque, like the time she interviewed American Idol famed Adam Lambert, it

never seemed to phase her. Shortly after introducing herself to Lambert, she said “I’m trying to sit comfortably, but I can hardly move in my pleather pants.” Not five seconds later did the crotch of said leather pants blow out. They both laughed. Then Cruickshank said something about covering it up with a “crotch full of sequins,” a nod to the singers own personal goth-glam style and then they moved on with the interview without a hint of embarrassment (something a journalism student might be taught to steer clear of while still establishing an on-air career). Cruickshank plowed ahead and made her own rules along the way, and somehow made viewers think she looked chic as her pants ripped on national television while interviewing a major celebrity. It’s Cruickshank’s lack of concern with perfection that has caused so many women (and men) to tune in for her cheeky and genuine charisma, complete with fashion-forward wardrobe and signature mermaid locks. Despite her uniquely American surroundings, she is determined to maintain her Canadiana (and promises she won’t trade her red for blonde, or any other colour), though she finds it is lost on many living South of the border. “When you have seven friends in an entire city you definitely appreciate the ones at home,” she said. “Americans don’t understand self-deprecating humour, and I’m not sure why.” She maintains a tightknit group of friends, consisting of other Canadian transplants living in L.A. who keep her grounded. And get her jokes. Cruickshank officially closed the chapter on her body of work at MTV with a three part special which aired in late December 2010. Jessi Cruickshank’s Real Hollywood Survival Guide is the perfect epilogue with MTV as she navigates as a little fish in the big waters of North America’s celebrity headquarters. In true Cruickshank form, she investigates the fields of plastic surgery, L.A. nightlife and what it takes to make it big as a Hollywood starlet, all while dripping with sarcasm and satire–subtle and mistaken as serious by those who don’t know her style. The three part series can be watched at www.MTV.ca. Jessi likes free samples, beards, Bob Saget, Pendleton blankets, & the L.A Lakers. She loves flea markets, Sushi in Vancouver, other peoples tattoos, & her mother.

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UNFINISHED BUSINESS PHOTOgRaPHY Colin Way, www.colinway.com | STYLINg & aRT DIRECTION Leah Van Loon, www.leahvanloon.com MaKE UP Joanne Black | HaIR Jodi Forzani courtesy of Hedkandi | MODEL ania B. courtesy of NEXT models

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PREVIOUS page black sheer corset with garters by Agent Provocateur | orange silk panty with beige lace trim by Elle MacPherson | green silk embroidered kimono by Natori, from Holt Renfrew | faceted onyx beaded necklace with tassel by Satya, from Rubaiyat | hosiery by Dim, from The Bay | rug by Alykhan Velji Designs, courtesy of the Rug Shop |

this page pink lace bra with taupe trim by Elle MacPherson | black sheer bed-jacket with lace trim by Christina | black and white floral skirt with lace inserts by Dries Van Noten, from Holt Renfrew | giant faux pearl necklace by Kenneth Jay Lane, from Holt Renfrew | hosiery by Dim, from The Bay | green silk tie, stylistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s own | NEXT page black paneled panty by DKNY, from The Bay | black garter belt with pink star trim by Agent Provocateur | orange wool crew neck sweater by Theory | black and burgundy patent sandals by Prada, from Holt Renfrew | fresh water pearl necklace on black silk cord by Dogeared, from Rubyiat | green socks, stylistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s own |

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this page pink and black shell cup bra with matching panty and red satin garter, belt with bow detail from Agent Provocateur | taupe wool cardigan with tie by Marni, from Holt Renfrew | red patent kitten heels with bow by Valentino, from Holt Renfrew | rhinestone flower necklace by Kenneth Jay Lane, from Holt Renfrew | crystal and silver bracelet by Roberta Chiarella, from Rubaiyat | black fishnet hosiery by Dim, from The Bay | NEXT page black lace peplum blouse by Stella McCartney | pavĂŠ rhinestone ring by Kenneth Jay Lane | red patent leather bow belt, blue lace bras by Elle MacPherson, all from Holt Renfrew | sterling and crystal chandelier earrings by Roberta Chiarella, from Rubaiyat |

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THE H NEY TREES { Jesse Harsanyi } likes playing roller derby, reminiscing, & loves sharing words { Simon Filip } likes taking photos, www.flickr.com/simonfilip

On first impression, The Honey Trees of San Luis Obispo, California, come across as a band of the times. Insert Becky Filip’s soothing vocals with the acoustic melodies of Jacob Wick and then combine endless style and beauty and you’ve got yourself a solid indie rock outfit. Even on the surface, they qualify as a band worth recognizing. It’s not until delving deeper that I was truly immersed into the heart of The Honey Trees, and discovered something more than just pretty lyrics and musical talent. In a blog written early in her career, Filip wrote these words regarding her struggle to persevere in creating music: “The desire to write and play and sing and inspire and give hope is too strong in me, so I try again and I keep trying until I fully learn to submit to what I’m meant to do.” That same year, Filip collaborated with Wick, and by the Summer of 2008 The Honey Trees were recording their first EP, Wake The Earth, which included these thoughtful lyrics: “Take the hands of what you’ve known, we’ll wake the earth and watch it grow, and write our love.”

“When I wrote that... I was suggesting change,” says Filip. “Waking the earth as if to wake people up and show them what really matters, making a change in people’s live for the good.”

encouraged by their music through the peaks and valleys of life. The pair agree that the success of reaching even one person through their music can make the whole process worth while.

Released in 2009, the seven life-breathing track on Wake the Earth bore much fruit for Filip and Wick, and landed the group two headlining tours. Since then, The Honey Trees have been busy writing and preparing for an upcoming full-length album they hope to begin recording early this year, as well as continuing to hone the craft of genuine and heartfelt songwriting.

“I don’t want to sound cliche, but love is really the only thing that I would want to show and spark in other people. I want to give hope to people who feel hopeless,” says Wick.

“I want people to feel something from our music and hopefully pull a sense of hope and peace from it,” says Filip. “I think love, above all things, is so important for people to know exists for them. It’s been so encouraging to know that our music has helped people, from little things to even the most extreme situations. My hope is that it continues to be used in that way.” Wick agrees, mentioning the band receives email upon email from people who have been

“It puts into perspective what success actually is,” says Filip. “So many people think success is making money and making a career out of music, but really, if all that we were meant to do was help people through tough times, I would think that was a great success.” Their love driven perspective is completely cohesive with the finished product they create. The soothing and quieted tones on Wake the Earth translates a sense of peace that has many times been described as magical. But to members of The Honey Trees, it is much more than the slight of hand or a happy coincidence. Both band members

{ Visit } www.myspace.com/thehoneytrees

{ 15 } say the beliefs and values instilled in them from childhood are still foundational to who they are and how they write their music. “I find my inspiration through real life people and their stories. I’m a very empathetic person, so those types of stories can affect me greatly,” says Wick. The band says playing music and telling stories is something they simply can’t help but do. Filip says it is what she is meant for. To her, it is a call that no one else could respond to but her. There have been times she says she has felt discouraged and often comes back to the same realization: “God didn’t give tools to me and have them just lay there while I stare at them and hope they get the job done by the power of my eyeballs. I need to pick them up and use them and work hard.” The two-some say they find themselves humbled in knowing they are doing what they were made to do and staying true to themselves, while allowing people to be inspired through their own experiences with the music.

“A lot of the songs we write can come across as a love song between a boy and a girl, but I also think it can very much be just a love,” says Filip. “I think with all we do, I just want people to feel that they’re not alone.” Wick adds that his hope is for listeners to get whatever they need from the music and that being compared to any other musician or genre is not something he strives for. “I suppose in general, I don’t like being compared,” says Wick. “I feel like everyone has the right to be individuals and comparison kind of limits a person to whoever they are being compared to, and that’s it. Especially to the listener. I’m hoping the association with The Honey Trees will be hope and love.” Whether it be through their music, artwork or personal lives, Filip and Wick never cease to drive home that above all else, they are motivated towards integrity and truth in their writing and love as their message. It is clear that passion, dedication and performance are just some of the elements that have come together in such a rich way to birth The Honey Trees.

“When you can look at someone and see that they’re playing music for no other reason than it is what they are meant to do... that they can’t help but play and write, that really inspires me,” says Filip. “When they show their appreciation directly to their fans by taking the time to talk to the people who their music has meant something to. That’s how I want to be.” The Wake the Earth EP can be purchased online on iTunes and BigCartel, listened to at Myspace, Last.fm and Reverbnation. You can alos follow The Honey Trees on Facebook and Twitter. If you’re looking for more inspiration from Becky Filip, you can check out her artwork at www.etsy.com/shop/themeadowlark. In case you were wondering, the 22-year-old life-chasers have been dating for five years. They became a couple two years prior to their collaboration as The Honey Trees and are madly in love.

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VULGARIS

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PHOTOgRaPHER Elena Jasic | MODEL amanda Mustard | SUNgLaSSES 80s Purple, www.80spurple.com

{ ViSit } www.elenajasic.com

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TREELINES

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{ Brett Filmore } loves the playoffs, his mother, & reading the modernists

In a noisy corner of a Commercial Drive coffee shop, Treelines lead singer and guitarist Matt Lockhart attempts to describe the essence of his band’s sound. “In termsof sounding polished and having all that extra stuff, we just aren’t,” Lockart confesses. “We want our music to sound real. We play what sounds honest to us as a representation of what we are…We’ve all been to shows where you hear a record of a band and it’s super polished and rad and that’s what you like about it, and then you see them live and it’s like; ‘that was a train wreck, what even was that?’” Without missing a beat, lead guitarist Matt Kelly pipes in with a smirk, “Yeah, we record the train wreck.” More eloquent analogies could certainly be made, but Kelly’s quip vividly illustrates Treelines’ unabashed efforts to remain authentic in their music. Really, the only thing they have in common with a train wreck is the almost unavoidable rubbernecking from any bystanders. More than just a funloving band with a sense of humour about themselves, they are a fan-first group that is comfortable with their identity and make no

qualms about their refusal to compromise when it comes to their sound, their outlook, or their momentum. Treelines is a four-piece, indie folk-rock outfit transitioning from their hometown of Kelowna to the big city boroughs of Vancouver. Consisting of the brothers Lockhart–Matt and the younger Steve on bass–alongside newcomers Jordan Kurtz on drums, and the aforementioned Matt Kelly, Treelines are CBC radio darlings blaring out bright, churning alt rock with a heartland flair. After 2009’s self-titled debut, the summer of 2010 saw their second release in two years with the six-song EP, Young Man. Let either album swim through your ears; you’ll hear nothing like a train wreck, and something like a burgeoning band that is right on track. Young Man moves Treelines move in a new direction due to a shift in recording process, songwriting philosophy, and perhaps most importantly, personnel. Treelines’ new and not so secret weapon is Matt Kelly, likely the band’s purest musician. He represents Treelines’ most technical mind in the studio

(“If Matt says it’s an F-sharp, it’s an F-sharp,” says Lockhart), and his versatility makes him a musical Swiss Army knife–Kelly adds to Young Man everything from pedal steel to trumpet. Lockhart explains, “I can write a chord progression and a melody, and then Matt makes it sound good. He takes it from a singer-songwriter playing G,C,D [chords] and turns it into a Treelines sounding song.” Above all, Kelly’s distinctly warm guitar tones swim through Treelines’ songs, contributing not only fluidity but also much of Treelines’ emotive quality. Kelly joins childhood friend Lockhart on bass, who undergirds the project not only through his steadfast basslines, but also with his impassioned and energetic stage presence. Steve–together with Kurtz–provide surefooted musicianship that shines on songs like Young Man standout “Statuette” and encore fan favourite “Lions”–where Treelines’ lush expressive grit emerges from the ardent swells and ebbs created by the group as a whole. If Steve and Kurtz are the band’s bones and Kelly is the soul, Treelines’ heart beats

{ Visit } www.treelinesmusic.com

on the sleeve of head-banded frontman Lockhart. As the band’s lead, Lockhart remains charismatic and unflappable both on and off stage. He’s a charged and earnest vocalist, and his unadorned and often cathartic delivery underscores the band’s ethos of honest rock. As a wordsmith, Lockhart is a master of expounding the bittersweet. His imagery and storytelling weave together a type of subtle soulfulness that makes Lockhart his best when he shows a few bare threads. On ‘Calendar’ he searchingly sings, “I tried all night but I couldn’t sleep / When I said sorry it seemed like half a cup of water trying to describe the sea / If I could I’d build you a wall to hold your memories safe / But I know that another lover makes a lousy footing for base.” Although he doesn’t often use a personal “I”, his vocals have a narrative tendency that, when combined with his stripped delivery create a shade of forceful believability, as if someone is recounting a story where the twinge of sentiment still very much lingers. “I’m not a poet,” confesses Lockhart, “but at the same time I’m not a fan of throwaway lyrics; if I have to write I want it to mean something… I try really hard when I bring

something to the band to communicate in terms of the feeling of the song. What’s hit me is the emotion, the feeling, and how that would affect the listener. That’s what I’ve grabbed on to.” Treelines’ self-titled first album was chiefly the product of Lockhart’s work as a singersongwriter: “It was very much sort of me, hands on,” he explains. The release was a culmination of songs written by Lockhart over the rocky course of three formative years living away from home in Victoria, and its woodsy mid-tempo rock reveals the mars of lost love and the aching awareness of time and youth passing through his fingers. “The first album is Matt Lockhart featuring Treelines… songs written by him and played by a band. The second one was songs written by a band,” describes Kelly. Young Man came about through a more collaborative and unified version of Treelines. The result is a fuller, more substantial sound where each member of the band concordantly adds some flesh to the beating sinew of Lockhart’s song-writing. With this album the band undertakes something more anthemic, as evidenced by the title track and the EP’s first two tracks, “Ghost Towns” and “Summer Song.” Each of these tracks

are sun-steeped fist-pumpers that recall the band’s Okanagan roots. This is not to say, however, that the plaintive introspection of the self-titled LP ceases to reverberate here as well. Though their second release is a full band effort, Lockhart’s lyrics can’t help but strike a nuanced, wistful tone throughout the album. Young Man, as with Treelines, hits the hardest when the band coheres around the unfeigned pang of first-person vulnerability. Lockhart admits, “we’re not a bunch of bright eyed kids anymore.” “I’m still recovering from when I was a bright eyed kid,” jokes Kelly. Indeed, all of Treelines’ members have cut their teeth in other bands and are ready to take a run at the industry. “It’s been the right decision for us,” says Lockhart, “being part of the emerging music scene in this town … it really is a bit of a thing…and we want to play in that sandbox too.” The city of Vancouver is no stranger to spawning influential music, and Treelines’ brand of heartstring tugging, underdog indie earnestness is the kind of authenticity you can believe in. From the looks of things, Treelines isn’t only on track, they’re picking up steam.

state of tHe blogospHere { Liz Field } still likes plaid & loves flat brimmed hats The longstanding blog gurus at Technorati.com have provided an internet search engine for blogs since 2002. Every year they compile an annual report relaying the “state of the blogosphere.” With no surprises, 2010’s results reflect the major convergence of blogging with social media. The blogosphere is no longer an “upstart community” in transition, but one that has ﬁrmly entrenched influence over mainstream media and narratives. It seems that as the use of social media tools continues to expand, the lines between blogging and social networking are disappearing. Technorati’s survey showed key trends in “mobile blogging” with the continued development of smartphones and tablets. 25% of bloggers are engaged in mobile blogging, encouraging shorter more impromptu posts. A massive 48% of bloggers believe that people will prefer to get news and entertainment information from blogs over traditional media in the next ﬁve years, as consumers’ trust in mainstream media continues to decrease. In little over a decade, blogs, blogging and reading blogs have transformed the way many people communicate. There’s no doubt that the face of the blog world is changing,

{ Promise tangeman } likes creating inspiration boards for her husband, taking photos of arizona, & answering questions { Maile Knight Wilson } likes taking photos

and is also changing the way people share and receive information. WHY tHE WORLD BLOGS Based on results of 7200 bloggers surveyed, Technorati divides bloggers into four main categories: 1. Hobbyists: these are the “backbone” of the blogosphere consisting of a whopping 65% of the world’s bloggers. These bloggers report no income and are blogging for “fun.” 2. Self-Employeds: 21% of the world’s bloggers blog full-time or occasionally for their own company or organization. 62% of self employeds report a

Meet Promise Tangeman, Art Director and Graphic Design extraordinaire of Promise Tangeman Creative, and one of WLWL’s new favorite bloggers! Currently residing in Phoenix, Arizona, Promise gets our vote for creative queen of the desert. Her fresh and energetic take on the design world caught our eye and continuously inspire us. She recently took some time to answer some of our questions about the role blogging plays in her business and creative life.

greater visibility in their industry because of their blog, making it a driving business component. 3. Part-Timers: the third largest category is parttimers. Blogging is not a full-time job, but they devote a signiﬁcant amount of time to blogging. 61% spend more than three hours a week and blog to supplement their income or as part of their fulltime job. 4. Corporates: 1% of the world’s blogs are corporate blogs. These bloggers blog full time for a company or organization. 57% of these bloggers blog to share expertise and experience, and are more likely to have worked in traditional media prior to blogging.

WLWL: wHen did you first discover blogging? PROMISE: I first saw this really inspiring blog called Ragamuffinsoul.com a few years ago. He had such an amazing community built up around his blog. He shared his life with people... and people shared back. I always checked it to see what new things he found and what new things he was promoting. Inspired by his blog, I started a blog of my own in July 2008 sharing things that I like, my new projects, life, inspiration, creative ideas, tips, and any insight I had on anything.

at wHat point did it become a main tool of communication for you? Blogging became a staple in my life when I noticed how it was affecting other people for the good. It became a platform to boost other people’s businesses in ways that I never knew possible. It encouraged creative entrepreneurs through advice, examples, new products, and even gave me a megaphone to introduce new exciting things to the world. It really hit home for me when a particular parent wrote in to tell me that her 11 year old daughter had me posted as her new favorite role-model. Her daughter had begun to dream, create, and develop a passion for the arts. She couldn’t have been more excited. At that point I realized that I can make a BIG difference in small ways. wHat role does it play in your business of grapHic design, pHotograpHy and fine art? Blogging gives people that behind-the-scenes view and I like to keep it that way when I display my work. People love seeing how something was made, the ideas behind it,

{ Visit } www.promisetangeman.com

the why and the when, etc. They feel like in some way they were a part of it too. And I love that. They feel connected to the project and enlightened. And potential clients get a kick out of seeing the process unfold. The more connected I can make them feel, the better they feel like they know me, and it’s at that point where they desire to collaborate on a project with me. And that’s just good for everybody. How do you think this has shaped the industry? Blogging and the social media movement have drastically changed the industry by making it more community based. Consumers are more likely to engage and connect with the people behind the business instead of the corporate company. People want to connect with people, not stuff. Blogging has definitely added that personal touch and connectivity to small and large businesses. Tell us more about SiteHouse? I love this conversation! I started SiteHouse in September 2010 to offer quality web design using our favourite website software, ShowIt. Our SiteHouse designs (RAD templates) are SUPER affordable, and completely

customizable thanks to ShowIt’s user-friendly drag and drop software feature. YES, you heard it, DRAG & DROP–no coding needed.

way about their own lives. And I don’t want to sound cheesy, but all things are possible with God. So DREAM BIGGER!!

I have a print design background, and I got sick of having to find someone to code my work, and also having to pay to have it updated. I HATE to wait on people for things. I am a DO-IT-YOURSELF kind of girl. So I wanted to create a website product for people like myself.

Did you start out with a specific goal in mind with Promise Tangeman Creative? To get paid to do what I love?! That was the beginning concept I guess. I love community, sharing, and collaborating. One idea has definitely spurred on the next, and the next, and the next. I have some big dreams for Promise Tangeman Creative that are still in the development stage.

We currently have seven diverse designs that will allow you to choose a design that fits your business uniquely. These designs are completely customizable, meaning you can change anything about them. You can also easily upload your own branding, photos, music, and videos to make the site unique to your business. Do you have an overarching creative vision/ message that you are communicating with each blog post and with your website? Live free, create, dream, explore, and have confidence in who you are. Discover the person deep within yourself and live it loud and bold. I am very passionate about the life that I live and I want people to feel the same

What is the key to sending messages consistent with your brand? Well, I would say the KEY is actually developing/ discovering what your brand is about. If your brand is built on a solid idea of who you are, then everything you produce will fall in line with that. How would you explain your brand? Energetic, colorful, quirky, loud, free, passionate What do you love about blogging? I love the power of sharing knowledge, learning, and exploring. For creatives, blogs are kind of the new art gallery. And I love that. And

like I said, I love the community aspect of blogging. I recently posted about this young 12-year-old girl that knits these amazing scarves. I mentioned how inspiring she is to be doing what she loves at such a young age. Well, come to find out, her email inbox was flooded with encouraging messages from my blog readers. She was encouraged beyond belief. I am thankful for blog readers that understand my heart and want to encourage and help others as well. What do you find frustrating? Sometimes the pressure of posting often can get tiring or frustrating. Some days I’m just not inspired, ya know? How has your environment (specifically Arizona) influenced your work? Honestly the sunshine has improved my mood. I LOVE the sunshine. It’s so bright and cheery. I used to live in Washington state and it was always gloomy and raining. It just brought my zest for life down a few notches. I’m thankful to be living in the land of the sun.

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What advice to others would you give just starting out in the blog world? Post what you love, what inspires you, what you are passionate about etc. Don’t just post what you see other people posting about, or what’s popular to post–your readers will see right through that. My most popular blog posts came straight from my heart and people notice that, and want to be a part of that. People want to check back and follow people that have a direction of where they are going. They can’t follow followers...

THINGS PROMISE LIKES: Cool camera bags, thrift hunting, big colorful rings, husband’s new record (Brian Wurzell– Grace Ocean), wind in my hair, & sun on my face THINGS PROMISE LOVES: Bearded kisses from Brian, big messy hair, breakfast at Denny’s, encouraging words, & inspiration boards & A FEW MORE Red lipstick, Justin Bieber, passion, chocolate fudge for the holidays, Willow Smith, The Girls with Glasses show, original paintings, music by Jaime Dee, my relationship with God, clothing with sparkles, Warby Parker glasses, & epiphaniebags.com

D.I.Y. how to create feather hair accessories

supplies

by Promise

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finished!

take me to In January, our dear creative director Alyssa Yuhas headed south of the border to Salt Lake City, Utah, for Altitude Summit, a conference concerning all things “blog”: design, lifestyle, photography, fashion, events, styling, art direction–we mean everything! The four day conference covered a multitude of topics and included roundtable discussions, workshops, guest speakers and some fabulous parties. She was truly inspired and blown away by the beautiful bloggers and creative people she

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met. Find out more about Altitude Summit at www.altitudesummit.com. And here is what Alyssa saw: { from left to right } Playing in her beautiful hotel room at Little america in Salt Lake City | Saw a documentary at Sundance Film Festival in Park City | Some sweet treats from the magazine panel at alt Summit | New friends, alyssa & andrea (blogger for RC Willey) at the conference | Photo-op in Park City with the Facehunter, www.facehunter.org (photo thanks to Brittany Reif!) | Mountains | Moments in the hotel | alyssa & Promise Tangeman | a gold statue of liberty in

{ Visit } www.jenniferdickinson.ca

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Sun Kissed PHOTOgRaPHY Jessica Pechet | STYLINg Brandy @ apt 22 | HaIR & MaKEUP allison Cullen | MODEL Kelsey Friisch, Courtesy of Imodel Management Roll Sleave Tunic & Belted Cardigan, Love Stitch

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short story { Dalyce Chomick } likes writing lyrics, watching fireworks, & listening to Justin Bieber { Elise Trickey } likes drawing raccoons, & collecting tea cups

{6} She opened the glove compartment and dug around in there for a moment. Was she looking for a needle full of the H1N1 flu virus (*) to stab into my jugular, just to add to the situation, or maybe a bazooka to finish it? Nope. Instead, she pulled out a bag of cinnamon hearts. Sorry, this bag was more of a sack. She pulled out a sack of cinnamon hearts (which in all honesty is weird because we’re nowhere near February, the natural time when cinnamon hearts could be sold by the sack-full). Then, she crossed her legs up onto the seat and placed the satchel of candy hearts on her lap. Looking down at her loot, she shoved her hand in the bag in a rhythm of routine and mindless movement, like someone who runs their fingers along a picket or chain-link fence. It’s a subconscious impulse. Most of the time they don’t even realize they are doing it. They don’t even feel the sensation in their numbing trance, as the vibrations heat their blood and cause those white fuzzy dots to float in and out of their vision. This is the same impulse of scratching your face when you feel a hair tickle your eyelashes, or sighing when you smell home-made bread; it’s all in the psyche. It’s an unexplainable form of living–something we, or maybe I, still don’t understand but still take part in. She pulled out a handful of a thousand tiny beating hearts in her small hands, then breathed in all the air left inside the car and poured the whole lot into the cage of her dark lips. She breathed out through her nostrils and I could smell Christmas, as the air turned from sweat and urine to cinnamon. I bet her mouth tastes like Valentine’s Day. She slumped back into her seat and continued sucking on the hearts like a vampire. I could hear the spit slurping back and forth, ever so slightly seeping out the sides of her lips and settling into the corners of her mouth. Then I started thinking about the gun and how it was sitting under the sack of hearts. It was basically unattended. I thought about how I could maybe try to grab it. I mean, she’s kinda distracted with the hearts and drawing pictures in the steam on the window. But then I realized I would most likely touch her lady part. Ahem, vagina. And I don’t know

what would scare me more: grabbing a handful of gun or a handful of girl-crotch? And then I thought about how I would most likely panic and either: (a) shoot her in the vag (**), (b) shoot myself in the leg, (c) swerve into oncoming traffic, or (d) try to open my car door and jump out. (This might not be a bad idea at the moment, as I’m still not driving that fast, about 60 km/hr. but the highway is coming up and I might need to bump this puppy up to 90 or 100. More panic sets in.) I decided to leave my hands where they are: glued to the steering wheel at ten and two. But I think she just caught me staring at her “crotchal” area. Luckily, there’s a layer of hearts and a gun preventing me from looking like a complete and total perverted high school boy. “This one’s yours,” she holds up a larger shiny cinnamon heart. “Hmm, it’s still beating and it’s not even in your chest,” she winks at me (my body is instantly covered in goose bumps, and a cold river of sweat runs down my back.) She puts the heart in the chest pocket of my uniform and pats it. “There, back where it belongs.” She breathes out into my face–all I can smell is the alluring haunt of cinnamon and girl spit. I felt my mouth go so dry. I think there were camels walking around in there. (silence) “And this one… This one’s mine.” She holds up a deformed little heart. She looks at it and then me with a blank expression on her face. We both look at the heart. (There was a long heavy silence that hung between us like an old velvet curtain.) “I can’t seem to find a pulse.” The quiet felt like knives slowly cutting tear-shaped holes in my face. She then placed it in the cup holder between us. “Would you like some hearts?” I shook my head. I could feel the tiny heart in my pocket beating. It was saying, “coward, coward,” taunting me with a weird little voice. It kind of sounded like Russell Brand on helium. Then it started saying, “Help me! Help me, Ben! I’m too young & small to die…” I slapped my hand up to my nipple to shut the voice up as it screamed out for deliverance. I’m too lost in my own story to try to save a drowning cinnamon heart. We slowly crept on to the highway and I

To find out where we left Ben last, grab a copy of WLWL. You can find them at welikewelove.com.

plunged the gear shift up to fourth and then fifth, with as much grinding as could be found on a Friday night at The Roadhouse (***). I clenched my bum cheeks tightly together as I veered in and out of passing traffic and then it hit me as flashes of panic washed over me. There were other cars on the highway, and in those cars there were people. And not just any people, FREE people, living free and normal lives. I thought to myself (obviously I wasn’t going to share any of this with crazy-face sitting next to me), “I’m a relatively normal person. Sure I’m a little nerdy, slightly taller than all my friends and I like role playing games. And maybe I don’t shower as often as I could and I wear the same wind breaker to school every day. But I’m average: average brown hair, average green eyes, average shoe size, average looks and weight. If I were ice cream I’d be vanilla, only I have brown hair, so maybe chocolate. But my favorite ice cream is Tiger. But that does seem kind of fancy doesn’t it. Hmm…I’m not fancy, I’m average. Ok, ok, forget the ice cream analogy. I’m a bouncy ball, just a plain red rubber one. I’m not full of glitter and there isn’t a flashing light inside that lights up every time you bounce it. I may be the last choice and maybe I don’t bounce as high, but I’m still just as good as the other balls. But I’m ok with all of that. I’ve earned this average, boring life! I don’t want to die…” So, as Berlin looked out her passenger side window, sucking the red off the hearts, I decided to look out my window and mouth the words “HELP! I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED!” to anyone that passed me by. The first motor vehicle was a black sports car driven by a young guy, probably a popular, successful man who has a lot of best friends and a little black book full of girls’ phone numbers. I started mouthing my rescue plea. “PLEASE HELP! I’VE BEEN ABDUCTED!” He just looked at me, then looked away and quickly sped up, but not before giving me the finger. In the second car was a family in a station wagon–mom and dad in front, two little girls and a little boy in the back. The kids started making faces at me as I mouthed my cry

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for help. But as they continued to mock me it only made me mouth the words more exaggerated and passionately. They were pointing and laughing and I was furrowing my brow and eating the air in their direction trying to get them to understand. Then the mom noticed me, but she looked horrified, like I had just taught them the F word or flashed my junk at them or something. She glared and then told her kids not to look at me. I could read her lips, something like “Don’t look at that freak next to us, and if you do I’ll take away your Justin Bieber and Dora the Explorer DVDs.” Then she said to her husband or boyfriend, “Pervert!” (How come I could read her lips like I’d been deaf since birth, but she couldn’t make out my “HELP!? I’m gonna die here. You are my only hope!!”) Then they too sped up and away.

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My last chance: car three was a green GEO with a group of three girls probably in their early 20’s. I started mouthing to them “HELP! HELP! I’ve been kidnapped!” They all started looking at me and then looking away, but maintaining my speed. I thought for sure I was saved! One pulled out her phone–YES! She’s going to call the police and rescue me! But then she started taking photos of me and the rest of them all burst out laughing and pointing at me. I think they thought I was singing along to the radio, and quite passionately as my face had turned red with frustration and desperation. Somehow, they didn’t get it, and then they too sped away. I felt exhausted and dejected. It seemed like there was nothing I could do to halt my impending doom. I looked over at Berlin, she looked at me and smiled. There were these two juicy red stains at the corner of her lips from the cinnamon hearts. She was actually very pretty. I think I smiled back. I guess this is my “average” from here on out. I feel like a red rubber ball next to a yo-yo; she was way out of my league. We continued driving deep into the mountains. Deep in to the heart of the wild (is that a Hemingway quote? Well, if not, it should be). “Let’s play a game!” She looked at me and smiled again, her teeth still stained from the skin of the cinnamon hearts. “Ok.” I swallowed the back of my tongue. “Would you rather cry peanut butter or have no neck?” (WHAT the H?!) I thought about it, then answered. “Cry peanut butter.” “Mmhmm cool. Your turn!” “Um…” (I really didn’t know how to play

this game, I don’t know the rules, it was weird. I thought for a long while.) “Um, would you rather be deaf or blind?” (Ugh, so lame.) “Blind, I really love to talk.” No answer from me. “Ok, would you rather have your life narrated by Laura Linney or only ever be able to smell vomit?” “Who’s Laura Linney?” (****) “She’s the lady from The Truman Show or The life of David Gale.” She did a horrible impression, but if that’s the voice that would narrate my average life, I think I’d choose the vomit. “Vomit.” I didn’t want to play anymore, so I didn’t take my turn in asking a foolish question of “ifs” & “ors”. It was quiet for a while; she was the first to break the silence. “Did you know that most people dream in black and white?” “Really?” “Yeah. They’re dreaming like a vintage movie. I wonder if my dreams are in black and white. I always remember colour. But I wonder if I just add it later. Like if I was to dream about a banana. In my dream it could be this light shade of grey. But when I remember my dream, I’ll remember it as yellow because everyone knows that a banana is yellow. Maybe that’s how it works for everyone. Like Inception.” “What?” “Like the movie, Inception…!” “I don’t think that’s how it worked in the movie.” “I totally believe in Inception. This right here, us, in this car… this could be Inception.” She obviously needs to watch that movie again. Although I really don’t know what it’s about either, I don’t remember any reference to bananas or colour being added into your dreams. I do remember Juno was there and she had a crush on the guy from 3rd Rock From the Sun (*****)… Or did I dream that? “You remember your dreams?” “Yeah, well I think I remember them. Sometimes. Usually if I have a dream about someone I know, I’ll remember, or if there’s a tiger or a raccoon in it. I love raccoons. But I did have this re-occurring dream for about a year straight. Hmmmm… I was flying in it. And at the end I was breathing underwater, but that wasn’t the weird part. The weird part about the dream was I could never control where I was going. I’d constantly be flying so fast through the air, being whipped around, up and down, watching my life pass me by. I’d call out to the people I knew and

loved, but they could never hear me. It was like I was in a glass jar. I would grab at them as I passed them by and…and they were so close but always, always out of my reach. Every inch felt like a mile. It’s like, I could almost feel them in my fingers, but I could never grab hold, you know? They would look at me, but I don’t think they could ever really see me. It’s like they saw me, but then looked right through me.” She stared out the window, scratching her leg. “And then at the end of the dream I’d fall, like a landing bird or a piece of rice paper thrown into the sea. And that’s when I would start to sink and float, sink and float, sink and float… until I was old. Until I was an old lady with white hair and wise eyes.” She stopped talking and breathed out a humming breath. “And all the while there was this song playing in the back of my mind throughout this part of the dream. It still kind of haunts me whenever I think of it. The song was like the thought of never being able to escape, or to be found or known again…about being forgotten.” She sat up in her chair a bit, cleared her throat and then sang to me the prettiest sound I’d ever heard. It made the car feel like we were driving through outer space, it was so eerie. She made the hairs on my arms stand up–my eye twitched and my whole body shivered. Here’s what she sang to me as we drove deeper into the woods: “Through the valley, down the hill, into the slippery sea. I feel the air leave my lungs, as I slip into the grey. Caught inside this lullaby, completely unafraid... In the night light, on the skyline, in my mind... by the night light, on the skyline, in my mind... I’m completely unafraid.” She sighed again. “Are you going to kill me…?” There I said it, or more like I word-vomited it out. I said the thought that has been sitting on the top of my head like a huge beaver pelt top hat: heavy and ridiculously uncomfortable. “No… I don’t think so.” “Well… then what are you going to do to me?” I could feel the sweat in my arm pits. (You know the musical build in most Swell Season (******) songs, it’s driving and you feel your heart start pounding while the climax is in sight. That’s what this silence felt like, like we were waiting for a breakdown, but not before our hearts exploded.) She finally exploded. “Do you ever panic, Ben? Like do something you shouldn’t, and then realize after it’s too late, you realize that you might have

made a terribly large, no, huge, life changing mistake?” A large puff of hot air came out of my lungs and I could feel the cinnamon heart in my breast pocket start to beat like a jack-hammer. “What are you talking about?” I was slightly swerving back and forth on the road. We were far into the mountains by now, not another car in sight–nor had we passed one for at least an hour. We’d taken a bunch of turns and I felt lost. “Ben… I need your help.” Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared out the car, her voice sounded panicky and scared. “Ben, I don’t really know what to do at this moment. But we have to go to the mountains. That’s all I know right now.” “Well, we are in the mountains. So…” “Good.” I saw one large, fat tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with her sleeve. “Berlin…” This was the first time I had said her name, it felt comfortable coming out of my mouth, she looked at me kinda surprised, but also fearlessly calm. Like I was her best friend and I was about to say something comforting, or say “you’re being silly” then tell her she was a good person. “Why the mountains?”

I said this with the greatest amount of comfort I could muster. I get super nervous when girls cry. Even psychopaths, like her. “Because I love the mountains, Ben.” “Ok, well what are we going to do once this road ends and we drive off the face of this mountain?” (silence) “Ben…” Another tear slowly rolls down her round perfect cheek. “Ben… there’s someone in my trunk.” I let out a pathetic wheezing sound & felt my feet go numb, like I had run them along a chain-link fence. Then a deep dark silence fell on us that felt like night. I started to sink and float, sink and float. And then everything went grey.

footnotes * Also known as “Swine Flu”. (We thought my best friend Moses had it once and my mom wouldn’t let me see him for two weeks, it just turned out he had a bad bladder infection and he didn’t pay attention to any of the actual H1N1 symptom reports. But he got excused from all the tests he missed at school. He said he peed blood at one point = Cool!) ** Slang for female private part. *** A Calgary night club where young people go to “bump” & “grind.” But I

probably wouldn’t go if I could. Rubbing up to girls would send my body into a sweating mess of hormonal outburst. Not to mention, I’d probably faint at the thought of getting beaten up because I accidentally looked at some guy’s girlfriend. I’ve seen half an episode of Jersey Shore. I accidentally flipped to it when I was looking for “Kathy Grifﬁn, my life on the D-list.” But I know what happens at night clubs. I don’t think I’d be a fan. And besides my hair is not motorcycle or soccer proof. **** According to IMDB, Laura Linney was born in New York City 46 years ago. She has a squawky annoying voice and when I hear it I want to rip my ear drums out and put them in a jar in my fridge and then throw my fridge into a volcano and then give the volcano the ﬁnger. I stick by my answer–I’d rather smell vomit the rest of my life than ever hear her voice again. (*****)1996-2001 TV show about aliens living in an attic. I watched the last few seasons with my Dad. He had a big thing for the sister, Sally. She was a giant. Giants have a huge strength score in L.A.R.P. Just sayin’. (******) An Irish band. It has a cute girl from eastern Europe in it. She’s a redhead. And you know what they say about redheads.

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{ Michelle Crimmins } likes roasted chestnuts, Chinese vintage thrifting, & Kung Fu Panda. Send her a note to say hello: heylady@welikewelove.com

HEY LADY! I moved to China this year to work at a Chinese-Canadian high school teaching Grade 11 English. This is my ﬁrst year as “Meechow,” or more honourably, “Teacher,” and each day brings a wash of fresh giggles, tantrums, and lessons. The most outstanding advice Hey Lady has received came a few months ago from a sweet, hard working, Chinese ofﬁce administrator in my department. Wendy attentively listens to every complaint that passes from our lips and helps in every possible way; she even goes to the school doctor with us and translates our complaints about having ‘a yeasty disposition’ or ‘a rash that came about last weekend...down there.” There is nothing I would not trust her with, so when she gives advice, I’m listening. My complaint had to do with tracking student attendance–I don’t mind taking attendance if I remember or notice that my one translating

student is absent (“Oh heck...”), but it is the Chinese attendance form that trips me up every time! Tracking attendance had become the worst part of my day, and I especially hated to ﬁll out the even more detailed (but only in Chinese) ‘You missed a class, so you better make it up before your next breath’ form. I don’t read Chinese! I stalked over to Wendy’s desk and grumbled about how stupid the system was, and how the form was unbearable, and who cares if a kid misses a class, it’s less marking for me, etc. etc...Wendy listened to my traumatic outburst patiently, and her response was so simple: “Meechow, do what make youhappy.” I stared at her a moment. “Attendance forms don’t make me happy,” she smiled warmly at me. “Wendy, I’m not tracking attendance anymore, it doesn’t make me happy,” I said carefully. “Meechow, it’s okay! Be happy!”

I walked away bewildered. I haven’t kept track of attendance in three months and no one even cares. China is a country ﬁlled with “happy everyday!” and “smile always!” slogans; I really needed to learn how to make happier choices and stop doing banal shit because I was afraid of letting someone down. Not everyone can stop being unhappy. I understand there are certain pressures leaning on our colons from all the stuff we’ve jammed into our agendas. Perhaps it is better to be soul-sick but increasingly reliable in someone else’s eyes. Or maybe you should change a few small things in your life that would actually make you happy; you wanna eat that Big Mac? No judgement, do it. I’m going to smoke my menthol and watch you. We’re all going to die one day–the trick is to see who dies with “happy everyday” embossed on their Hello Kitty gravestone.

show & tell

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15 years of TOYS Rummaging through storage, Alyssa found a huge box full of Kinder Surprises she had collected during her childhood. We thought we should share a few...

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Our mantra this issue is: { SPARKLE! } It is simple. Write it on your hand. Put it on your fridge. Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t forget it.