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I thought that sitting down to write a Mother’s Day post would be incredibly easy, but what am I supposed to say that my mom doesn’t already know in her heart?

It’s been the biggest and most important job for the majority of her life. 28 and 25 years ago, my mother gave birth to myself and my brother, respectively. It was something more than apparent that she has always been destined for.

Photo: tempest_kat on Flickr

It’s not lost on me that there are countless people around the world who won’t celebrate today because their relationships with their mothers are all but existent. I have been so blessed with a mother who is gracious, kind, others-focused, loving, gentle, understanding, beautiful, generous, hard-working and always full of hope.

My mother is more than just my mom but my friend also. She is someone I look forward to spending time with, to talking with and to sharing with.

I don’t need one day in May to celebrate her because I love my mother every single day – something she knows all too well. There is, however, one thing I may not say as often as I should…

There are many ladies in the limelight that I look up to for various reasons, but none of them can be found on MTV reality shows, on the radio’s top 40 or on the cover of Cosmopolitan. Names like Goldie Hawn and Diane Keaton are more likely to capture my attention, but if I’m honest with myself, I can’t overlook Pamela Anderson either. Though, I don’t imagine she’ll be having tea with the other two anytime soon.

For a girl who got her start with Labatt beer after being discovered at a Lions game at Vancouver’s BC Place, Pamela has come an incredibly long way since then. Born and raised on Vancouver Island and having graduated from the same high school forces me to appreciate her even more. What can I say? We’re both girls from Comox. I’m biased.

Though you may not all agree with me (and some may even shake their heads), and you may not agree with career choices Ms. Anderson has made, it can’t be denied that she is one of those rare gems who really is herself in every sense of the notion.

Mother, daughter, philanthropist, actress, Playboy Playmate, animal lover, PETA-supporter, model, vegetarian and all-around fun girl, Pamela has never been one to explain herself. “She is who she is, so take it or leave it” seems to be the philosophy by which she lives her life.

Always an innovator and never an imitator, some of the many faces of Pamela that I’m sort of in lust with…

Before I forget to mention, I’m doubly excited for two reasons:

1) Since I doubt UGG will ever make a vegan version of their boot, I can relax because animal-loving Pammy has developed an alternative “beach boot” called FAKE (Free Active Kind Energy) that will be available later this year. FAKE will be high quality and produced without animal skins in North America; and

2) What’s better than dreamy body products? Dreamy organic body products that are true to their claims. RAW (Real Activist Wild) is “wild, sexy, skin and hair treatments with delicious/favorite natural fragrances, organic bases, cruelty free, conflict free, mainly local ingredients/or guaranteed free trade.” Raw is currently in development and should be available sometime in 2009.

While I can’t vouch for the integrity of any of these products, I am definitely looking forward to giving them all a shot.

Don’t forget to follow Pamela on Twitter!

I know, I know… I’ve committed one of the cardinal sins of “professional” blogging. My purpose was to essentially celebrate Pamela, so if any of these are your photos and you want them removed and/or credited, please let me know and I’ll be happy to immediately do so.

Besides the obvious, there’s something else I’m very much looking forward to on the Island this weekend. My mom and I are planning to hit up Atlas for dinner for their scrumptious tofu baked burritos and warm beet salad, followed by Observe & Report at the theatre, Seth Rogen’s latest flick.

Photo: atöm on Flickr

This morning, the thought struck me: I find Chris Meloni and Seth Rogen equally bone-able, yet they could not be more opposite. One is rather “beefy” (as Rebecca would like to describe him), while the other has a much more… pudding-like quality to him. One is a dark, serious and mysterious actor (though he has his moments); the other is a self-proclaimed chubby tub of funny.

This has led me to only one conclusion, and that is that I am not attracted to men basely on their appearances. Let it be said that I am a very picky girl, but I guess it’s not really anything I can control. It’s a man’s mannerisms, his presence in a room and his self-confidence that tend to catch my eye. Everything else is just whipped topping on the…

So what does it for you?

Last weekend I watched a film that has long been known as the “ultimate chick flick,” so it surprised me that I’d never seen it before Saturday night. Steel Magnolias seems to have most men running for the hills, but I was astonished at this movie. Our generation’s flock of actresses can hardly hold a torch to the women that dominated the screen decades ago. Shirley MacLaine and Olympia Dukakis had me in stitches!

I wanted to post this scene because it was unbelievably real while at the same time undeniably humourous. Whether you appreciate Sally Field or not, you cannot argue that her performance was pulled from a place so deeply authentic that we can all relate to it.

If you’ve never seen Steel Magnolias but plan to, be aware that this scene contains all kinds of spoilers.

This weekend was the first weekend I didn’t spend on Vancouver Island in a month. Last night was rough and tough, and I felt very much defeated. I didn’t need something to keep me occupied or attempt at making me smile; what I needed was rejuvenation. Rejuvenation wasn’t what I expected, but it was exactly what I got on this optimistically gray Sunday afternoon.

I hopped the 601 bus to Tsawwassen and was picked up by Chelsea. We then hopped the border into the United States to spend the afternoon in Point Roberts.

She’d been wanting to show me Lily Point Marine Reserve for sometime now, and the experience was incredible. It’s funny how driving across an imaginary line can instantly cause me to feel so far removed from all that I want to escape. We were only minutes from Canada but miles from “life.”

Lily Point holds an interesting piece of history in the area. Between 1884 and 1917, the Alaska Packers Association operated a salmon cannery at the edge of the water, overlooking the Juan de Fuca Strait. The cannery was subsequently abolished when the salmon supply depleted, but a few remnants still scatter the shoreline today. This is how it used to look.

It took no more than a brief glance to the silhouette of Saltpring and Vancouver Islands for my heart strings to feel a sharp tug. It will always be home, but what I yearn for there is in my past.

After admiring the view, we made our way down the clay cliffs to check out the cannery ruins up close and personal. Chelsea feels like Alice in Wonderland down here. I totally understand why.

I wouldn’t be hard-pressed to guess that much of what remained of the cannery had been destroyed by fire at one point.

I saw these two horses wearing pretty purple robes. So regal-like.

Obviously going to the U.S. and not raiding the candy aisle would be a tragic waste of time. We wasted no time. Chelsea’s big into the Swedish fishes.

Want some of my awkward Goobers? (Emphasis on the “awkward”.)

How’d you like them boxes, Duane?

Yessss… they’re very tasty.

That pink crap you buy? That’s not real cream soda, in case you were wondering.

I’m a sucker for VitaminWater, but those lucky Americans are also treated to VitaminEnergy drinks. I’m jealous. So I bought one. I’ll let you know how it is. (Oh and it’s in a can, not a bottle.)

$18.49 American dollars later, and it’ll all go straight to… well, I dunno. I’ll sweat it off or something.

Photos are great and the candy will be eaten, but I wanted a permanent reminder of my day.

I’ve always been fascinated by beach rocks, and the colours I found amazed me.

Whether you believe in God or not is your call, but I couldn’t help but be in awe of the beauty Chelsea and I experienced today. The beauty in the nature around us, in the simple honesty of our friendship and of the spiritual recharge that this day provided for me.

It’s ironic to me that, on the bus ride to Tsawwassen, I started to read Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, because those three elements were key to what brought me the most joy today.

P.S. Follow me if you’d like post updates, as I have – and will continue – to write less often.

Beach bum at Great Slave Lake, N.W.T.

Eastern Europe in the 1920s was less than glamourous, but that’s not to say it wasn’t a time of great beauty. On July 11, 1924, a sunny summer day in Poland, a baby girl was born. Her name was Hildegard “Hilda” Willemina Korber, one of nine children born to a poor farmer and his wife. As she and her brothers and sisters grew up, they all learned the value of hard work and the importance of family while relying on strength and resilience to get them all through the Second World War. Despite her humble beginnings, however, her loveliness was not lost on everyone – and certainly not on one young man from Czechoslovakia.

Fishing at Great Slave Lake, N.W.T.

When Hilda and Karl first met each other in their 20s, it was love at first sight – for Karl. Being that he was four years her junior, Hilda was largely reluctant and refused his advances and declarations of love. Karl moved to Canada and found himself working both in Ontario and the Northwest Territories, saving up every penny he earned.

Finally, after four long years, Hilda agreed to marry Karl and found herself in Canada in the late summer of 1954 at the age of 30. Three months later, they were married and embarked on a lifelong journey of love together on November 3, 1954. The newlyweds set up a home in Yellowknife where Karl worked in local mines while Hilda tended to their small but snug home. It didn’t take long to add to their duo, and almost to the date of their one-year wedding anniversary, Katrina Elizabeth Chalupa was born. Less than a year later, Anne Mary Chalupa came long.

Katrina grew up and became my mom, Anne grew up and became my aunt, so naturally Karl and Hilda were affectionately known by me as Opa and Oma.

Anne Mary Chalupa, Hilda Chalupa, Katrina Chalupa (Yellowknife, circa early-1960s)

Last night I picked up the phone to call my mom and pick at her memory. As I’ve been making my way through changes in my life, self-discovery and attempting to pinpoint the issues that impact who I am today, I’ve realized that reconnecting with my past is an important part of that process. There is perhaps nothing as unique as a daughter’s relationship to her mother, and also to that mother’s mother. I wanted to know more about my Oma, I wanted my mom to remember and I wanted her to share with me what all three of us ladies had in common.

Katrina Chalupa and Hilda Chalupa (Yellowknife, circa mid-1960s)

My Oma was a woman with a great deal of love for her daughters and much devotion and respect for her husband. She was deeply sympathetic and sensitive and had a tendency to cry easily, much like my mother and I. Another characteristic that passes through all three of us is the deep-seated desire to nurture. As I have grown into a young woman, I have become predisposed to overfunctioning.

Overfunctioning is a frequent trait of eldest children and is generally a learned behavior. It tends to be what happens when one is either consciously or subconciously expected to set positive examples, take care of everything and everyone, all the while “keeping it together” without showing any sort of vulnerability. While overfunctioning isn’t necessarily a negative characteristic, the pendulum of this behavior can easily swing too far in the wrong direction, as it has in my life.

Keira-Anne, Hilda Chalupa (Port Hardy, circa early-1980s)

After talking with my mom at great length last night, it started to become more clear how this pattern – my “normal” and natural way of dealing with anxiety – has developed through the generations. As a young girl in Poland, my Oma was expected to work hard, contribute to the household and most likely had to often look out for herself in a home of 11 people.

When my mother was a child, she often took care of many of the younger neighbourhood children, paid attention to them, played with them and even walked many to and from school. As my mom grew older and eventually became a married woman, she would often find herself in the position of being the responsible adult in the marriage – as many women frequently do. Before long, overfunctioning became her survival tactic and this behavior was inevitably passed on to her first born daughter, yours truly.

Photo: tempest_kat on Flickr. Katrina Mellis, Keira-Anne (Vancouver, circa 2008)

While many of the deck’s cards are stacked against me as a chronic overfunctioner, restoring balance to my life is possible. I am willing to do the work. We overfunctioners have a tendency to be resistant to change and have an incredibly difficult time remaining objective and level-headed in times of high anxiety. The bottom line, however, is that if I am overfunctioning all the time for others, I am underfunctioning for myself.

Modifying my behavior – a behavior that simply isn’t working for me – will be a constant, lifelong challenge. There’ll be setbacks coupled with achievements and times when I don’t see the point in changing. The work, however, is anything but disheartening. Though facing up to who I truly am, the good and the bad, may not always be pretty, I’m unearthing a great deal of beauty and freedom in reconnecting with my past and the amazing people that helped impact the woman that I am today.

I’m starting to notice a phenomenon.

On Saturday I went to the gym for my circuit training class, and because I had left my iPod at home, snatched up a tattered copy of Elle Canada to read on the stairclimber. As I flipped through the pages – some stuck together – I came across what is your typical Q&A column where women had written in with their various relationship problems, seeking words of wisdom.

As I scanned over first the questions and second the answers, I was amazed. “Do these women really believe that this is what they’re supposed to do to fix what’s wrong?” Some of the so-called advice astounded me in its absurd logic.

Photo: jamielondonboy on Flickr

Several hours later, I found myself wandering the downtown Chapters with a friend. While her and I both managed to grab a cheap beach read for ourselves, we browsed the store since we had nowhere else to be. By the time we reached the third floor – and often dreaded self-help section – I couldn’t help but notice the large volume of books dedicated solely to women and their “dysfunctional” relationships.

As I scanned over titles such as the classic Men Are From Mars… Women Are From Venus, Why Men Love Bitches and the soon-to-be movie He’s Just Not That Into You, I noticed more than their splashy, brightly coloured covers. Not only were these books aimed to sucker in hurting women everywhere, they all smelled of complete bullshit.

Heartache and heartbreak are great for the economy.

Photo: mollybob on Flickr

I turned to my friend and reiterated to her what I’d thought just hours before at the gym: “Seriously, do women read these and consider them the Holy Grail of relationship advice? I think that’s unfortunate.” Why do I think it’s unfortunate? Any back covers or inside pages I scanned for their purported insight all point to the same issues – that women screw up, pick the wrong men and just need to find “the right kind of guy” instead of the so-called toxic ones.

How about this instead? Women don’t always screw up (but neither do men), sometimes we don’t always consciously “pick” the ones we do and just because a man is broken doesn’t mean he isn’t “the right kind of guy.” Perhaps instead of trying to change how women relate to potential suitors in their lives, they need to re-think how they relate to themselves.

Less of We, More of Me

As women, we have the right to feel empowered, the right to take care of ourselves and the right to make the best choices as we see fit. Playing the blame game gets no one anywhere, so perhaps it’s time to take responsibility for our own actions and choices. Some are so quick to label men as “toxic,” but if that’s true, then we as women are equally capable of being toxic.

Focus on yourself, on your growth and your development. Instead of over-thinking and overanalyzing the differences, I think it’s time to instead appreciate the delicate distinctions between men and women and how we all function – within relationships and, more importantly, as individiuals.

Since my favourite busybody, Rebecca, was otherwise occupied with preparations for this weekend’s WordCamp Whistler, she asked yours truly to slip into her shoes and check out the second annual Taste BC last night at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in downtown Vancouver.

A large number of BC wineries and restaurants participated in this great event to support the BC Children’s Hospital – Oak Tree Clinic.

While I wish I could tempt and tease you all with in-depth reviews of everything I came across that I enjoyed, the truth is that this blog post would turn into a novel.

The winner of Rebecca’s contest was none other than my pal Lindsay.

The Hyatt’s grand ballroom was packed with other “foodies” like me, wine glasses in hand, prepared to indulge and delight their senses. Amy was my date for the night, so between the two of us (plus Lindsay and her comrade Laura), we knew we were in for a fun night.

One of the first samples of my evening was from Forbidden Fruit Wines, an organic vineyard from Cawston. Their pride and joy should easily be their “Earthseries” 2007 Sauvignon Blanc, designated to promote sustainability of our planet with partial proceeds going to the David Suzuki Foundation.

Wild sockeye salmon on artisan bread with hot smoked salmon, sea salt and mustard cream cheese from Two Chefs And A Table. I’m pretty sure my tongue melted.

“Hippie Juice” wine basket prize – all wines from Vancouver Island and the southern Gulf Islands.

I also really loved talking with the proprietor of Averill Creek Vineyard, Andy Johnston, who clearly has a passion for his craft. I’m looking forward to summer BBQs paired with their 2006 Pinot Gris (the 2006 Pinot Noir also did a nice little dance in my mouth).

Amy’s bright red satin number went well with Sympathy For The Devil‘s 2005 Merlot, with vineyards in both the Okanagan and California’s Napa Valley. And yes – you guessed it – the brand is a partnership with the Rolling Stones. I’m dying to try their Pinot Noir icewine!

The Benton Brothers were on hand with a selection of local artisan cheese, including some from Little Qualicum Cheeseworks on Vancouver Island.

Tucked in the far corner, Lindsay and I discovered the Fort Wine Co. out of Fort Langley. Many fruit-based wines simply taste fruity, but theirs were earthy and true. The 2007 Isle Queen Blackberry dessert wine – made with naturally-grown blackberries from the Queen Charlotte Islands – is unbelievable!

A chocolate fountain with decadent truffles from Rogers Chocolates? Um, okay!

Amy told me that I simply had to try the tonic water at the Fentimans booth, but I was skeptical. As it turns out, she was right. Created through a process of brewing and fermenting with natural herbs, Fentimans’ time-honoured tradition produces something unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before. Zesty, tingly and completely delicious. Dash in a bit of gin and you’ve got yourself a fantastic Friday night!

It goes without saying that the four of us had an amazing time and the event it certainly something I’d like to check out again next year. I owe a huge thank you to Rebecca for the honour. To read a more in-depth review, head over to Miss604.com.

If you’re interested in trying any (or at least most) of the wines featured at Taste BC, visit your local Liberty Wine Merchants shop.

Recently I introduced you to a fun and frivolous concept company new in Vancouver called Panty By Post – sexy, frilly, girlie panties delivered right to your mailbox.

When my first pair of Blush Lingerie panties arrived in the mail last week, I was equally thrilled and charmed. The panties, however, turned out to be a thong that, while incredibly cute, did nothing for this chica…

To satisfy my curiosity about Panty By Post, I decided to attempt round two and try a different pair that Lori and Natalie – the founders – thought I’d like. As it turns out, they do know what I like.

The lovely ladies selected a sexy and luxurious pair of satin bikini briefs in peacock blue with delicate black lace trim. Commence swooning.

With the ruffled edge and tiny hiney bow, I could not deny the classic vaudeville style to the panties.

I’ve long been a fan of the kind of knickers that stretch in a band shape with a sleek cut, hip to hip.

Gisele is so April, 2008.

There’s something endlessly glamourous about wearing a pair of panties that Veronica Lake probably would have sported too.

After my photo shoot this evening, I ventured to The Odyssey with Jenny and Angela to attend Boas For Boobies, a breast cancer benefit. One of Vancouver’s premier local burlesque dance troops put on a phenomenal show, one that I’d never seen before.

There were performers of all shapes, sizes, ages and curves, but the one thing they had in common was how incredibly sexy they all were. I most certainly have a new appreciation for the female form in all its glory, which instantly made me question why we can’t all feel more empowered and beautiful.

While tonight the cabaret ladies swung their tassels and boas for boobies, maybe us ladies all need to “drop trou” and show off our panties for poise.

Where to find Panty By Post online: [Web] [Flickr] [Twitter]

A little while back, a little birdie asked me how I’d feel about receiving a pair of panties in the mail. Being that I have a penchant for pretty lingerie, I eagerly accepted the invite.

Just the other day, I received my very first pair of Panty By Post undies.

Maybe someday – somewhere – someone will get my name right for once. *sigh*

What is Panty By Post?

“…imagine your panty drawer as a candy store with an array of moods and feelings to choose from… girlie and cute, sexy and sultry, confident and strong, playful and sassy. Whatever you are in the mood for, let the anticipation of a new surprise panty in the post unleash that sentiment.” [source]

The concept? Simple. The idea? Brilliant! We women relish feeling sexy, but sometimes there are never enough hours in a day to always achieve that status. Panty By Post lets you share a little sexiness with your friends or significant other by selecting something very special and sending a surprise to their mailbox.

In a delicate wrap of vixen-like red tissue, a dainty thong known as “My Ballerina” fell into my lap. I was instantly in love with the slight details, feminine fabric and peek-a-boo see-through style.

I love a flirtatious thong as much as the next girl, but once I tried them on, what I feared as a possibility came true. That’s the tricky thing about thongs… unless they’re cut just right, rarely do they look as you wish them to.

The best-suited and sexiest thongs I’ve ever owned had a slight cut up towards the hip bone with a dip towards, well, you know. “My Ballerina” was designed with a band cut straight across the hips (rather than curving with them), creating a look I don’t want to show you all on camera. If you’re just dying to see me in my knickers, you can always click here for a trip down memory lane.

Despite the design disappointment of the panties, I was incredibly impressed with the crafts(wo)manship, choice of colours and overall quality. Blush Lingerie panties are clearly no doubt something every girl should have tucked into her drawer.

(Pssst… you can also follow Panty By Post on Twitter or check them out on Flickr!)

While I didn’t have much success with my thong – even though I am wearing it right now – tell me what you feel sexiest in (or what you think looks sexiest on us ladies)…