I guess that’s why I have an entire category “All about my butt“.

Snicker.

That’s my frame of mind this morning. I’m overwhelmed. I’ve started too many things, and now I have too much to do. I need to slow down a bit…or not start anything new until there is room in my schedule.

Breathe. Jennifer. Breathe.

Not much to report on this visit. We were on a budget and other than my friend Alan, we didn’t have transportation. We spent time at the zoo though–which was quite impressive. I think all the animals were tired of people and of being on display. Almost every animal had their backs towards us and were just hanging out doing their business.

I couldn’t help myself. I had to get some shots of the big butts!

Hippo Butt

Elephant Butt

Rhino Butt

The zoo visit was on Sunday. On Monday, Cindy and I walked up to Balboa Park just to have a look and see what was there. I was impressed with the architecture of the buildings. Here are my few good shots of the buildings in (or near) Balboa Park.

Here is a link to the San Diego pics on Cindy’s blog. She was able to hook up with her good friend Amadine despite a communication gap between devices that speak French and those that speak English! Cindy and Amadine habe been friends since they were two!. Amadine is studying at San Diego State for the next few years.

Here is a link to Alan’s pics from the zoo. And, here is a link to his blog that he just started: oneneverends.blogspot.com. I have a comment on his Dial entry, but I want to wait until I get my new Photoshop software. ETA: three weeks!

Here is a link to my album of the trip.

Here is a picture of a rock that once hitched a ride in my butt–unbeknownst to me of course. How? I don’t know. Can you see the size of that rock? (That’s a quarter beside the rock, BTW. And the rock is on the right side of this picture.)

One summer Steve and I spent as much time as we possibly could floating inner tubes from the Del Rio Beach to the Camp Rose Beach. Enjoyable. Relaxing. Fun. We often invited a few of our friends. One day, with a few friends and towards the end of the summer we decided to see if there were enough water left in the river to make the trip.We donned our swim gear, grabbed the tubes, and headed up the road to Del Rio. We even walked to the top end of the beach to extend the floating time. I remember I was wearing my slightly unflattering, bright yellow bikini.

The water was quite low at the top end of the beach and our butts dragged on the bottom of the river as we ferviously paddled the tubes. Eventually, there was enough water flow to carry us without all the comotion and kuffufle.

We arrived at Camp Rose beach a good two hours later. We docked and walked back up to the house. In the backroom, I changed from my wet swimsuit to some dry clothes. As I pulled my bikini bottoms off, this rock fell out. It’s huge. How did I manage to float with that weight in my butt? The blubber probably counteracted with bouyancy.

I’ve been following the stats on my blog with mybloglog.com. I don’t have a professional account and I have to wait until after 9h00 pm PST to view how many readers I’ve had over the course of the day and what they read and where they clicked.

My most popular category is: All About My Butt

My most popular blog entry is: My Life-Saving Butt

My most popular outgoing link is: www.nikewomen.nike.com

I found out the other day that some people thought (and I won’t mention any names) that the butt in the picture was my butt!! I can only dream of such a butt!! Plus, I would never post a picture of MY BUTT on my blog. That’s pretty personal. But (ha–pun intended), this is some other lucky girl’s butt and I’m sure she’s worked hard at making it look so good or Nike wouldn’t have used it for their ad.

AND on that note.
I also realized that some people hadn’t read the lovely piece of poetry that goes with the lovely butt. So. Here it is again:

MY BUTT IS BIG
and round like the letter C
and ten thousand lunges
have made it rounder
but not smaller
and that’s just fine.
It’s a space heater
for my side of the bed.
It’s my ambassador
To those who walk behind me.
It’s a border collie
That herds skinny women
Away from the best deals
At clothing sales.
My butt is big.
And that’s just fine.
And those who scorn it
Are invited to kiss it.
JUST DO IT.

- nikewomen.com

I got this in my email yesterday. I had to post it. You can never be too cautious.

~~~~~~~~~

Generally, I hate the warnings that get sent around, but I have to admit that this one is important. Please protect everyone you know by sending this to your entire email list.

If a man comes to your front door and says he is conducting a survey and asks you to show him your bum. DO NOT show him your bum. This is a scam – he only wants to see your bum.

I wish I’d got this yesterday. I feel so stupid and cheap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somebody pointed out to me the other day that I have an awful lot of stories about my butt: “You should give it its own category on your blog.” So I did. Here it is: All About My Butt. As you may have read, my butt has saved my life–you can’t help but love something that has saved your life a few times. I now love my butt. I can laugh about my butt. It’s a good and loyal butt. I have however, abused it a few times. I’ve published the story about the hand sanitizer. And today, I will publish my story about how I burned my butt.

The same year I was hit by the car (and my butt saved my life), I was using the gym at the Skyline Hotel in Ottawa for recovery (because I did total the Ford Tempo with my body). I liked to workout, then swim, then shower, then dry off and relax in the sauna. I loved those mornings I was able to do that. I felt like I was taking care of myself and I was healing.

This particular Friday morning I had just finished a great workout and swim. I had the shower to wash away the chlorine and I was going to dry off in the sauna. As I opened the door of the sauna, I dropped my hair barrette on the floor. I bent down to pick it up. The sauna was small. The door was crowded. I didn’t have much space. As I bent over, I burned my butt on the sauna stove.

I was paralysed. What to do? What do you do? I danced around a bit, but I couldn’t even sit down and collect my thoughts.

I think I ran to my locker, dressed as gingerly as I could, and ran out the door. I was so very embarrassed. What was I supposed to do? Tell somebody at the front desk: “Uh. Hi. Can you help me? I burned my butt.” How would they be able to help anyway? I was humiliated. I do remember I had to bike home though because I was in university and back then, my bike was my main mode of transportation. That was tricky. Try biking with a burned buttock, standing up, with one leg. Not the easiest feat, so good job home was just down the hill.

I was lucky my roommate at the time was a registered nurse. She was able to dress the wound and sooth my ego–NOT. She was in hysterics the whole time. I made her treat my wound for the entire week before I forgave her. The best part about this incident was I had an essay due on the following Monday. I couldn’t finish it. I was stuck on my tummy for a few days until I learned about the product Second Skin. I told my story to my professor. She smirked and reluctantly gave me another week to finish my essay. I definitely I got points for having such an original story though.

That’s it. I burned my butt. My poor butt. It’s definitely had it’s share of trauma. This year, I’m going to work on it–give it the attention it deserves. Build it up so that it’s good and strong. Then, it will be a good and strong and loyal butt and you can’t get any better than that.

My parents put a compostable toilet in their house. My parents live in a two-story log cabin in Whitehorse, Yukon–so it somehow doesn’t seem so far-fetched. It’s actually quite a good toilet as far as compostable toilets go.

If Mum’s in the middle of her quilting projects, she doesn’t have to run downstairs anymore to visit the loo. It’s right there. I think she’s put a kettle upstairs too–for tea. Cozy. Warm. She’s settling in for the winter.

Best of all, Dad’ll have the downstairs completely to himself. If she settles in, he won’t see her until spring.

When is it OK to sit on a toilet and use your cell phone? NEVER! That’s why they should be called When NEVER minutes. Not whenever minutes.

Here is an excerpt from and email I received today. I can’t believe this sort of thing happens. I mean, people in California barely even smoke for Christ’s sake, but they do this????

Yuck.

~~~~~~~~~~
>Jen,
>
>Something that happened today…
>
>I was in the [men's] bathroom washing my hands. I could hear someone
>talking. Someone was in a stall talking on their cell phone! Just as I tuned
>into the conversation, I heard:
>
>I can’t…
>
>Not now…
>
>I just CAN’T…
>
>BECAUSE I’M TAKING A SHIT…
>
>some more talking
>
>Hang on, I need to use both hands…
>
>Ewwwwwww. I guess he was using his “whenever minutes”. I can’t believe
>people do that. Maybe the phone companies should use this example to
>advertise their Bluetooth headsets!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who do you think he was talking to? A colleague? Was he making a sale? Maybe he was talking to his wife or mother or something. Just so you know. It is never OK to go to the bathroom, sit on a toilet, and talk to me. I never want to be in one hand while your other is wiping your butt. NEVER.

Do you think that people need a reminder as you walk into the public bathrooms: For the consideration of others, please turn off your cell phones. Maybe all that’s missing is that polite reminder. Yuck. I still think it’s disgusting.

Chantel is my niece. She’s staying home from school today so we can have a day together. Bonding. I love it. She’s a great kid. She came over the Chilkoot Trail with us in the summer. She really impressed me. How many 11-year old girls do you know who can kick butt over 3700 feet?

When she asked to come over the Pass, she kept telling us she could do it. Besides, she would get to bond with her two Aunties. She’s never really had the chance to spend quality time with us.

I told her the trail would be hard. She would get hungry and her feet would be sore–not to mention the state of her shoulders from carrying a backpack. I told her she could come if the only thing she ever said was: I’m having fun Auntie. If she were sore, or grumpy, or hungry, anything else, she would have to say those words with a forced smile and through clenched teeth.

The first day on the trail we were all staying hydrated and drinking lots of water. At one point in time, Chantel says she needs to go to the bathroom. I stop to pull out some bog roll. Redd and Jim keep going. Chantel goes into the woods. After a brief moment, she comes out again. I thought: Wow. That was fast.

Not! She says: Can you help me Auntie? I don’t know how to pee in the woods. Mum usually holds my hands so I can squat. I thought….Hmmmm. Time for you to learn how to pee in the woods Chantel. So I go into the woods with her. She wanted to bond! What better way to bond than to teach her to stand (pee?) on her own two feet?

Here is the real story for today: How Girls Can Pee in the Woods and Keep Their Dignity

Find an appropriate spot. Off the trail is good. 100 feet from running water is also good. The spot should be secluded enough to give you privacy (like your own personal bathroom, without any walls).

Loosen your pants (I’m going to assume you are wearing pants) and start pulling your clothing paraphenalia down over your hips.

At the same time, squat. Bend your knees and stick your butt way out. Lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees.

By now, your pants and paraphenalia should be around your knees. DO NOT PULL THEM DOWN TO YOUR ANKLES. KEEP THEM AT YOUR KNEES.

Now. Feet apart. As wide as you can, remember, your pants are around your knees–not your ankles–and your butt is way out and you are leaning forward resting your elbows on your knees.

Finally, release the pee. Hopefully, the pee is directed at the ground and NOT at your pants or your shoes or anything else you have to wear.

That’s it. That’s the secret. Butt out as far as you can. Lean forward. It’s not really a dignified position, but I am not aware of a dignified position while trying to pee (especially in the woods!). Keep your dignity by not getting yourself (or your pants, boots, socks) wet.

The other day, I opened a magazine and found myself staring at the words: My Butt is Big. Not the normal words you would find in a fitness magazine. It turns out that this ad is part of the Nike real woman ad campaign. I love it. I went to nikewomen.nike.com to find out more. If you click on the words: “What story does your body tell?” (top right-hand corner of the screen, under the search field) you get little video snippets of women’s stories about their body parts. I thought: Hey, I have a story about my butt.

I used to hate my butt. In fact, I once had the nickname ButterBall Buttocks (Triple B). Not the nicest nickname, I know. But, when I was thirteen, I fell 30 feet out of a tree. My family was on holiday in Alberta and we were visiting some friend’s farm. I think my Dad was visiting with Wayne and Mum was admiring Shirley’s garden. My sister wasn’t anywhere about. I had to entertain myself and decided to climb a tree. I got up quite a ways, I think, before a branch broke and I fell to the ground. It was quite a distance because I remember thinking: Holy shit! This is gonna hurt.

In the hospital we discovered that I had crushed the two bottom vertebrae on my spine and cracked my pelvic bone. And the doctor said to me: Good thing you have extra padding there. You could have done more damage. You fell 30 feet from a tree and you got up and walked away. Basically, though, all I heard was: You have a big, cushy butt. And that was just the start of my complex. And then my Dad gave me the nickname Triple B.

That’s not the end of the story though! I was in another province, another city, and it was quite a few years later. When I was 21, I was riding a bike and I got hit by a Ford Tempo. Both the Ford Tempo and I decided to make the yellow light. I was turning left and he was coming straight through. Smack! He hit me side on. I fell onto the hood of the car and dented the hood into the engine. I rolled and smashed the windscreen onto the occupants of the car. I hit the roof of the car and did some damage there, the finally fell onto the road.

I don’t remember the actual accident. I woke up in the hospital a day later and was told what had happened. I suffered a major concussion and my bike helmet was broken into five pieces. Again, though, the doctors told me: You are really lucky you have that extra padding. You could have done more damage.

So, the short story is: I fell 30 feet out of a tree AND I totalled a Ford Tempo with my body. Both times, the doctors said I am lucky to have such a big, cushy, butt.

I now appreciate my butt. I call it my Life-Saving Butt. So when I read this Nike Ad about big butts, I laugh and love it and love my butt! “And those who scorn it, are invited to kiss it!”