Monday, September 24, 2007
Still here, still rocking the proverbial casbah.
I've been occupied, off and on, with the following brushes with greatness:
1) Subbing -- Oh boy oh boy do I love subbing. Coming in to a new class every so often, hanging out for a while, doing some fun teaching, meeting some new studentlings, and then moving on to the next satisfies my cravings for The New, challenges my ability to adapt, and forces me out of my Creature-of-Habit patterns and onto new ground. Plus I don't have to work every day and if I want to spend all day curled up with TG and eating breakfast late at 3:00 in the afternoon and browsing bookstores, I bloody well can.
2) TG -- Oh That Girl is a wonder. I can't say much about her, and not because there isn't much to say, because I could go on for hours, but because I want to keep her private. Just some little tidbits, from my head to you.
...She is becoming so very special to me, because I have not felt this connected to anyone or this blissfully relaxed in years.
...She satisfies so many of my mental - intellectual - physical - emotional cravings that I can scarcely believe she's real.
...She supports me in continuing to live a full and rich life so that I can keep being me in every possible way. She wants me to see my friends, and my family, and be active and busy and social.
...She genuinely likes and wants the Real Me.
...She's become something of a muse, and miraculously I am finally writing again for the first time in months. I even signed up for a writing workshop that starts next month.
...It's nice to feel for the first time in my life that I'm with someone who not only tolerates my interests, but fully supports me in all my endeavors. I don't know if she realizes how grateful I am for that.
3) Pals -- My pal Kasey is finally back from Burning Man, and what I had hoped would happen to her there has actually happened -- she seems to have opened up and realized that other people need her to care about them and support them. She may become a real friend again rather than just a girl I might from time to time want to party with.
4) Famdamily -- My mom and dad are so lovely. They invited TG for Thanksgiving on the island, and best of all, she's coming. I feel so lucky to have them.
5) Class -- Taking my ESL certification on the weekends has turned out to be quite painless and really enjoyable. I like the teacher a lot, and he used to work at my school so we have loads to talk about in the rare times we're not in class. It's an intense, three weekend, Saturday and Sunday, 9-6 class, but some days I really don't even notice the time going by. It's good to be learning new things, and to have the things I'm already doing in my classes confirmed as being smart and not just smrt.
6) MUSIC -- M.I.A.'s newest is SPECTACULAR. Kala is such a brilliant melding of world beats, political lyricism, unique sounds, seamless sampling, and absolute in-your-face joyful worldliness. She's coming to the Vancity in November and TG scored tickets to surprise me before I even knew they had announced her concert dates. I am so so excited about that. I'm also digging:
-Rilo Kiley's Under The Blacklight. Moneymaker's such a spectacularly unexpected little tune.
-The White Stripes Icky Thump. Their weirdest and most brilliant to date. By far.
-Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning. One of TG's faves. Landlocked Blues is sometimes so close to home it just about brings me to tears.
-Amy Winehouse's Back to Black -- Say what you will about the other drug addicts in Hollywood. What makes Miss Amy so different is that she's got talent in spades, and she follows a fine tradition of self-destructive jazz singers to which I think she rightly belongs, both in talent and in tragedy. I'm hopelessly in love with her and genuinely hoping she can save herself. Poor skinny little lost girl. I just want to wrap her up, feed her ice cream, get her a good divorce lawyer, and make her into a clean and sober little lesbian.
I'd better run. But thought I'd give you all a quick update just to tell you I'm feeling fantastic, still kicking, and am oh so ALIVE.
p.s. including this photo Jag took of me ringing Jenna's intercom because I find it delightfully spontaneous, and that's the kind of girl I want to be, and the kind of girl I often think I am.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Bless me readers, for I have sinned.
It has been a week since my last post.
I've been working, playing, playing some more, getting seriously sleep-deprived, wandering around the House of Oracles in a state of semi-wakefulness, and marveling at the wondrous sensation of walking underneath a giant wooden dragon spine. Beautiful!
Went to the island for a day and a bit to help out with a giant wine party my parents were throwing. It went off without a hitch, mainly because my brother and I worked flat-out preparing and serving food and wine and cleaning up for four hours afterwards so my mom wouldn't have to be on her feet the whole time. I've discovered that doing dishes is much more bearable when dancing your tail off to AC/DC's If You Want Blood.
I came home the next day to go to the Queer Film Fest, which so far has been fascinating, though emotionally difficult.
I made the utterly intellectual decision to go see Love Sick, one of the first-ever Romanian queer films, and while it was an absolutely brilliant piece of filmmaking, it left me with the palpable desire to put a gun to my head. No one should compare homosexuality to incest, ever, and they should especially not spend an entire film doing it. It was hard to take. That said, the subject matter was a little more understandable given the situation for queer people in Eastern Europe. Someone has to talk about the hard stuff, and it may as well be the dust-battered, Communism-recovering Romanians.
I also saw Boy I Am last night, which is a documentary following the lives of several FTM (Female-to-Male) transgendered people. For me it confirmed what I already knew and feel deeply -- that transgendered people deserve to be treated with the same love and respect and given the same opportunities as any other person, and additionally that they deserve to be included in queer culture, be it gay, lesbian, bi, or trans. My aunt, who saw it with me, had a somewhat different perspective, since she comes from an era where women's only spaces were gaining importance and significance for her community. I didn't have the benefit of that outlook, but it was fascinating to hear her experience as she walked me to the bus stop.
Expect a few more super-informal film reviews and a few more photos in the days to come. Dag has finally sent me some more shots from our photo shoot, so I'll post a couple more as she continues to send them.
I hope some of you at least are living in places where August does not consist of rain, chill cold winds, and constantly wrapping oneself in hoodies. Jeez. Don't we get enough of that shit the rest of the year? Ah well, at least it means I can sit through seven more films with the knowledge that I'm not missing out on any amazing sunshine.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
This weekend I went to the island for the annual wine festival and gigantic after party chez mes parents.
I just may have the greatest parents in the world. Not only was coming out to them SO much easier than it was for many of the people I know (no Get Thee to Reform Camp, no Well I'm Okay with Gays as Long as They Aren't My Daughter), but they also want to meet all the girls I like and get to know them and open their home up to them and hug them right from the beginning, right at the introductory stage.
My parents are so relaxed that they got drunker than I did at the wine fest. Drunk and funny. Both of them are happy, lovely, and open when intoxicated, as is pretty much everyone in my family. My mom commented wryly on the bus back up island that it was okay that everyone on the bus was gulping down glass after glass of fine Shiraz, because as the picture on the sign at the front of the bus indicated, drinking was not prohibited, merely drinking with straws.
Later my dad got hysterical over the French on a plate of raw vegetables from Costco that read: plateau de crudites. "PLATEAU DE CRUDITEEEES!" he tore through the kitchen yelling, followed by strings of expletives, in order to prove, I suppose, that he could be extra-crude with a plateau of crudites in his hands.
TG came to the island, met my parents, gave them presents, and made them adore her by doing nothing except being her charming self. We made salad and danced in the kitchen while the house was full of our friends and neighbours, using every possible opportunity to touch each other, flirting, laughing, and generally feeling pretty free.
At one point she asked me "Do you think everyone has got us figured out yet?" I said something to the effect of: "You mean, do they think we're the biggest bloody homos on the planet?" "Yeah," she said. I looked around at all the happy and increasingly drunk and merry people around us and replied: "Honestly, I have no idea. But I really couldn't care less. They all just want me to be happy"
And later I found it funny that feeling like I care so much about someone has the effect of making me care less about what the world thinks. It rarely occurs to me that we're both women, except when I'm focusing on how amazingly hot and lovely and beautiful she is, or when I'm feeling like I'm looking at a Botticelli painting come to life under candlelight, which I suppose is actually all the time.
My point is just that caring about women makes me care less about what the world thinks about the fact that I care about women.
It's just home to me. And home is the safest place I could possibly live.
p.s. I love this photo of me and Jag. It makes me feel serene, and makes me miss her.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Hold me, wrap me up
I am small
Warm me up
And breathe me...
-Sia - Breathe Me
In the night, after the sweet-clawed tiger has left your bed, you will dream those heavily scented ecstasy dreams, the kind you never knew before you took the pills, but those that now appear most vividly when sleep is the only substance in your body.
The sheets feel like creamy satin against your skin, the air perfumed with the faintest haze of summer rain, and you sleep gentle as a child, but nowhere near as innocent.
In the morning, you will stand in the shower in the hopes that the rivers of warm water will feel something close to the feeling of her fingers on your skin, the soft towel some small approximation of her arms pulling you inside.
You will remember her palms on your collar bone, which she called by its medical name, and the pads of her index fingers in your hair.
And life will smell a little sweeter. The incense by your bed will remind you of Tibetan mountains you have never seen. Coffee freshly ground will smell of Sumatran hillsides, and a cat's fur will remind you of how soft and sweet and powerful a thing can be.
Your heart will beat that steady rhythm in the morning, that faithful, gentle humming on your skin.
And you will allow yourself to feel so alive, for the moment, in this jungle of grass and green bamboo.
~I'm going to the island for a few days to drink wine and lie on the beach. Hope to hear from all 788 of you when I get back.~
p.s. to your right is a little Estrie sunset for you, all the way from Eastern Quebec. Sadly I had no jungle photos to post.
Monday, August 06, 2007
I'm sad no one took photos of me in my rainbow suspenders. But I did get loads of compliments, and a good deal of suspender-snapping.
A few highlights:
1) Chicas -- Hot House of Hotties - Had never been to this insanely expensive post-Pride-parade party at a huge fancy mansion in the West End, but I'm damn glad I bought a ticket. Oh so many beautiful women in one place! So much music. My fave DJ spinning her heart out. And all so much more intense with half a tab of good old methylenedioxymethamphetamine. I know I don't need drugs to be social and have fun. But it certainly helped in a house full of hundreds of hot girls taking their shirts off. And don't worry, I know about the risks of hyperthermia and hyponatremia and all that medical jargon. Talked to my dear friend Jenna until they closed the place down. I felt like I could have talked to her all night. Everything she said was profound. Other than TG, she is probably the smartest woman I know, and she has enough years behind her to be relied upon for intense clarity and wisdom. I quite adore her.
2) Dyke March - It had never occurred to me to actually march in it. Usually I just watch from the park and soak up the joy. But TG and Shawna convinced me, and so I walked the whole route alongside two recently-married lesbian couples I know, feeling exhilarated and loving life.
3) Dyke March Dance - Also better on ecstasy. You Shook Me All Night Long has NEVER sounded so hot.
4) Pride Parade - Gay boys, dykes on bikes, and free razors for the girls. A bizarro combination, and a tad too corporate, but I still loved it.
5) Hershe Bar - Danced my tail off before I came down off the E. Danced in a cage, danced in the jungly room upstairs, danced to intense pounding deep house music that I normally find terribly boring. Made out with TG until I was tingling all over. Everything felt so so good. It was almost unreal.
6) The looooong walk home -- TG walked me all the way from downtown to my house. It took two and half hours. We had to keep stopping cause we couldn't keep our hands off each other. She's a tiger! Got home at 5:00 am. No further details will be forthcoming, but suffice it to say I'm pretty elated today. Buzzing. Thrilled. Excited.
Oh Pride. It is so great. Please tell me that straight people have fun too, otherwise I'll have to feel terribly sorry for them.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Sometimes when you're lonely and crawling home from the airport, the strangest things come your way.
I love the summer for its heat and perfect blue-eyed skies. But mainly I love the summer for its surprises. Because sometimes when I think that a fine little flirtation is dead in the water, it resurfaces to remind me of what I love about women. They are absolute tigers, soft and gentle and sweet one moment, and tearing your clothes off the next.
Ah. What a rush.