Dear Marker, Please be Nice to my Soul.

Dear Alberta Education Marker,

Tomorrow all of us English 30-1 Students are going to be submitting a correctly formatted piece of our souls for evaluation.

Perhaps you don't see the three hour exam for the monster it is because you have already paid your high school and university dues. However, you too are affected by the emotional destruction caused by diploma exams: you have become desensitised. It will not occur while reading dozens of essays and personal responses that in your hands you hold the entire future of a student.

Every university requires English 30 as a prerequisite. But that will not matter. All that does is the use of proper grammar and appropriate choice of literature details. When I open up the darkest part of myself to demonstrate my understanding of a text, you will not be seeing it with empathy but as the result of literary devices used to create mood.

While I write I shall pry apart my ribcage and allow the words to flow out in the rhythm of a heart beat. I will use figurative language to persuade you to think I'm smart. I will mention specific details that will impress you, but only in a distant way, because to you I am words on a page. Little do you know my guts are spread on the pages you read. But you don't know me, and you don't know what I'm capable of. You don't expect a northern girl to kick your exam's ass. You will see my paper as a number, mark it with an unfeeling hand only to throw it back into a pile of a hundred others.

Writing is ripping out bits of ourselves then trying to make sense of it on paper. Under what circumstance should this be allowed in a system that is suppose to teach children about the merits of literature? All that results of a English Diploma exams are overtired, stressed teenagers who are bleeding on the inside from pouring the continence of their hearts into a paper that might only get them a sixty. How is it possible to submit students to emotional warfare, then have educators wonder why kids drop out of high school?

It is unfair and immoral to force someone to relive a moment of "great loss", then to ask them to structure it so that strangers can deem their experiences "pertinent to the topic". Art is subjective, and reflects the creator no matter how analytical the piece may be. Students take it as a character fault when they create art only to have it rejected.

Yeah, I get the whole "But we're just as good as them" reaction when kids in the communities get their exam scores. After all, it's hard to imagine what is going on in Alberta and it's reassuring to know we're able to measure up. That still leaves the problem of the almost alien scores though, as they are created by mysterious beings far away from earth it seems. If a student gets one hundred percent of sixty, how do they know when they succeeded and when they had difficulties if they are not allowed to see their paper again?

Anyways, I hope dear Marker that you can be kind with the pieces of soul heading off your way in the near future.

Live Long and Prosper,

Arctic Hipster

How the Contents of my Fridge Became Breakfast

Dear Sunday Sloths,

Some days it's nice to just cheat on making breakfast.

Here's a way to impress yourself: Eggs-a-la-Laziness. Enjoy.

Ingredients:

1Tbs butter
1/2 Onion, chopped
1/2 Pepper, chopped
Last Night's Baked Potatoes, chopped

5 Eggs
1/2 Cup Salsa
Pinch of Cinnamon and Cayenne

2 Green Onions, chopped
5 Cherry Tomatoes, cut in half
A handful of Cilantro, chopped

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. In a cast iron pan (or other pan you can put in the oven), melt butter and fry Onions and Peppers on medium high heat until translucent. Add chopped Baked Potatoes and cook until brown.

3. While potatoes are browning, whisk together Eggs, Salsa, Cinnamon and Cayenne in a mixing bowl. Pour mixture into the hot pan, allowing eggs to gel. DO NOT STIR!!! Sprinkle on Green Onions and place Cherry Tomatoes in mixture.

4. Bake in oven for 11 Minutes, until eggs are puffy. Let sit for two minutes, then garnish with cilantro. Cut and serve.

Feel free to add cheese or hot sauce, depending on your taste.

Bonne appetite mes amies!

Arctic Hipster

Building Up the Library and Burning the Midnight Oil

Dear Creative Creatures,

At some point it all begins to sound the same doesn't it?

The melodies that once spun tales of broken heart strings are reduced to a formula. Novels that were the idols of sophistication and the solution to the human condition become words cleverly arranged on just another page. Colors that embodied the darker parts of an ulitmate truth seem nothing more than pretty pictures. Everything has been done, overdone, over-redone.

But not here, and not now. There is a place between places called a perspective, and it is one thing that has not been seen before. It is the life boat of an artist.

I challenge you to figure out yours, and I will explore mine, and then we will sail friends.

Fly the colors but don't tell them our names,

Arctic Hipster

The Brighter Side to Addictive Personalities

Dear Addict,

That's right, I'm talking to you looking at the computer screen.

I apologize for the previous sentence fragment, but it was necessary to create a dramatic opening line. There's my addiction, incomplete things. I have the annoying tendency to leave a projects unfinished, to think and then be unable to completely express my thoughts. I love the idea of travelling, but I would rather pack my things and then spend my time going to one place, continually on the airplane waiting in anticipation rather than actually getting anywhere.

Some people are addicted to sugar, to exercise, to Angry Birds.

Yes, even Angry birds. My mom has actually begun dreaming about the silly iPod App. She even admitted to sleeping better after she had left the game alone for a couple of days. For the entirety of Christmas break the holiday calmness would randomly be interrupted with passion shouts of "You stupid little porkers!".
The first time she yelled at the screen Baby Brother Hipster and I practically died from laughing. Now every time she gets near the game we both look at each other and can't help but crack a smile. Perhaps the name just says it all. She does seem pretty angry at the pigs. She came up with some great improvements to the game as well. Ptarmigan birds could be thrown at the pigs to freeze them until they shattered.

In fact, the mother parental also made a good point about addictions. She said that addictive personalities don't relinquish their addictive habits, they simply move from one addiction to another. We have a family friend who tried to quit smoking by replacing cigarettes with yogurts. Apparently he would go for breaks with his buddies and take a silhouette with him, and his buddies caught on to the habit. He was able to give up the cigarettes, but his buddies just took a smoke as well as a snack break. Go figure.

There are lots of hazards addictions, don't get me wrong. However, some of them are a little bit comical. The following are a list of strange addictions and obsessions I've pulled off the Internet and taken a liking to:

• Pagophagia: addiction to Ice
• Geophagy: addiction to Dirt
• Crackberry addiction: Guess. I dare you.
• Pica: the opposite of a food addiction. Eating everything but food addiction including couch cushion, detergent and bleach.
• Cat-Lady-Syndrome: addiction to cats and cat memorabilia (I may be guilty of this...).
• Addiction to Hair Pulling
• Compulsive Cleaning
• Addiction to Teddy Bears

If that hasn't made you giggle, please check out this new addiction of mine. When Parents Text is definitely aimed for the younger demographic, but it'll have you giggling and snorting within the first five minutes. It's a website dedicated to fumbles on the texting device we used to call a cellphone.

Have a great Wednesday!

Arctic Hipster

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