Why Nail Polish Should Never Smell Like Cherries

Dear Beautiful Readers,

Sometimes it'd be easier just become a nudist.

It's not that people should be running around with their crooks and crannies showing (an expression loving stolen from my grandmother by the way), but perhaps we'd all shut up and get over our bodily insecurities. Bodies are machines, they are meant to be useful. Hair is really an organic form of a coat, so why is it acceptable to make fun of old men with hair backs at the pool? Indeed it is a bit disturbing to see a chubakka double towel off at the beach, but two thousand years ago he probably would have been commended for his natural ability to survive! He would have been respected like the silver backed gorilla, literally. Our ancestral Grandmothers would be fawning over his furriness. Perhaps a strange extended metaphor, but please bear with me.

We are created to survive. This whole lack of self confidence is really a modern habit. Do you see elephants caring if their hips are too wide? Are there goats complaining about the length of their beards? No, because animals know exactly what's going on. There are so many possibilities for things to go wrong inside the human body, from errors in cellular respiration to minor malfunctions in the reproduction of DNA. So why spend time dwelling on superficial imperfections when the interior ones are the faults that matter? It's crucial to have a mouth, it's more than less so to have an aesthetically pleasing one. We really are worrying about the little things as a species. How terrible it is to imagine that our eventual downfall will be due to a lack of self confidence.

The point I'm trying to make is one that hits home with a lot of high school students, myself included: we are made to work properly, not to look pretty. Lately I've been talking to the gang and we've all come to dislike our appearances for the most insignificant reasons. It's heartbreaking to think that a perfectly formed person can hardly look herself in the mirror. I love my friends dearly, and the struggle to make peace with body type is not going to disappear for us anytime soon. We are young and restless, making us more susceptible to over-think our reflections. I'm trying to change my attitude from a resentful perfectionist to a practical thinker who oozes confidence.... emphasis on the trying.

There's really no logic holding a grudge against your own body. So let's tear off the expectations of modern culture and feel good. Besides, beauty procedures and products are a bit terrifying. For example, right now my nails smell like Cherry Jolly Ranchers...that's probably not healthy.

"I have a perfect body, but sometimes I forget. I have a perfect body, because my eyelashes catch my sweat." -Regina Spektor

Make Peace this Season,

Arctic Hipster

A Revolutionary Christmas Carol

Dear Christmas Shoppers,


The big day is looming over our guilty heads. 


That's right, only four days to clear our conscience by running around like chickens with their heads cut off to finally finish Christmas shopping. How terrible to reduce a time of peace and kinship to sales and gift wrapping plastered with logos. It's sick really, but it is a social expectation that is upheld. Kids want gifts, Parents want to make their children happy. It's easy to criticize, but to be honest I'd be devastated if there were no presents underneath the tree Christmas Morning. It's the idea that material things represent affection that truly drives us to overflow the living room with gifts. Think about it. When a friendship is new, there is always that awkward moment when you exchange gifts. If one friend goes over the top, and the other tries to reciprocate with a modest gift, there are hard feelings. 


So this year, Boyfriend Hipster and I decided to give the gift of time. We aren't going to try to buy each other using packages wrapped up with strings, but rather honor each other with a promise to spend time together. Because he's reading this, I won't reveal my plans. However, know that it may have to do with baking. 

Happy Holidays,


Arctic Hipster


P.S. The following video will change your life. It's called the "Christmas Can Can" by Straight No Chaser. Enjoy.

The Real Canadian Pizza

Dear Gourmands,


Today was wrought with great discoveries. 


I discovered that Boyfriend Hipster is wonderful to Christmas shop with, found the perfect gift for the Parentals, and explored the contents of our fridge to create the perfect pizza. Because it is the season of giving, it's about time to share this fabulous recipe with you. All the ingredients are of Canadian origin, except for the olives. I whipped this up in half an hour.


Ingredients

• 1 Pre-made Flat Bread (I used PC)
• 1 Tb Spoon Butter
• 1/2 Onion, thickly sliced
• 3 Cloves of Garlic, thinly sliced
• 1 Tb spoon Maple Syrup 
• 3 Tb spoons Soft Goat's Cheese (Chev)
• 1 Fillet of Smoked Salmon
• 1/4 of a Red Pepper, thinly sliced
• 5-8 Olives, pitted and split in half
• 2 Tb Spoons of Feta
• 1 Splash of Balsamic Vinegar

1. Pre-heat oven to 450 Degrees (or according to the instructions on the package).

2. Using a medium sized skillet, melt Butter on medium high. When butter is bubbling, add Onions and Garlic. Stir often. When onions and garlic begin to brown, pour in Maple Syrup. Turn down heat, cooking mixture until the onions are supple. 

3. Using the back of a spoon, evenly spread Goat's Cheese on the Flat Bread. Pull pieces off the Smoked Salmon Fillet (I just used my hands), and layer on pizza. Layer all other ingredients, crumbling the Feta last. Bake until cheese is melted, about 11 minutes.

4. Finish with a splash of Balsamic Vinegar. 

Tis the season for a fashionably bigger belly,
Arctic Hipster