confession

Apr. 10th, 2014 11:52 am
ishyface: (i shall never grow old)
Sometimes I feel guilty that I'm not living the way I always imagined I would in my twenties. When I imagined where I'd be now as a teenager I pictured, oh, squatting in a broken-down townhouse full of punks and artists and radicals, and writing beautiful terrible drunk poetry, and having awkward one-night stands. Getting cool haircuts. Not owning a TV. Maybe making zines or something. Drugs and late nights and waking up in unfamiliar places. Instead I'm in grad school, engaged, and living in an apartment in the not-quite-suburbs. With a TV and matching lamps. And a fuckton of cats.

I mean, I expected the cats. But not the rest of it. I wear cardigans now, and frame pictures instead of tacking them directly onto the wall, and I've fallen asleep on the couch three times this week! Before midnight, even!

I like my life, but I find it interesting that it bears so little resemblance to the way I thought I'd live when I was young. I don't believe in selling out as a concept anymore, really, for a lot of reasons, but I did back then, and I know that's what I'd think happened.

I still plan on getting a lot of tattoos, though. And cool haircuts. So there's that, I suppose.
ishyface: (think happy thoughts)
I just realized that I haven't commented yet on the current political situation in Canada. (Which is where I live, just for the record.)

For those who don't know and don't want to bother clicking the link, here's the skinny: the Conservatives currently have a minority government, which means that they were voted in by less than 50%. [Edit: To be more, um, true, it means they have the most MPs but not enough to make 50%. Thanks, [livejournal.com profile] six_crazy_guys!] This has made a lot of people very angry and is generally considered to be a bad move. Such a bad move, in fact, that the Liberals (a centrist party) and the NDP (New Democratic Party, further to the left) have decided they are going to form a coalition (with the approval of the Bloc Quebecois, which is basically a separatist-but-not-really-all-that-angry-about-it-anymore party from Quebec- yes, Canada has a lot of parties, and they get way weirder*) and bring down the Harper government. (Which, despite Harper's protests to the contrary, is legal.) They would do this with a confidence vote, which is basically a Parliamentary way of saying "OH NO YOU DI'INT" real, real loud, except awesome.

Got that? I might have gotten some stuff wrong- if I have I'm sure [livejournal.com profile] montrealais will school me. He's knowledgeable like that.

Many people are pretty upset about this proposed coalition, because of the economic crisis and because we just had an election and because a lot of (anglophone) Canadians are worried that if the Bloc Quebecois has too much veto power they will turn us all into baguettes or something. I, however, am not! Here's why:

1) I am an NDP supporter. Have been since I was a wee!Ish. Under this coalition agreement they would hold 25% of the spots in cabinet. This would make it one of the most progressive cabinets in... well, ever.

2) Stephen Harper is an evil, evil man. I don't use the word "evil" lightly- actually that's a lie, I use it all the time, but that doesn't mean it's not true in this case. He is staunchly anti-immigration rights, has voted against pro-queer legislation (and lied about it afterward), including the legalization of gay marriage, was real, real cozy with George W. Bush, has cut funding to arts programs and women's shelters. He was one of the founding members of this party. My ex-Political Science teacher referred to him only as "that awful man." HE IS NOT A GOOD DUDE. He has fucked this country over and over again and it is high time he got the boot.

3) OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT. \m/

The End!

* The Natural Law Party is still my favourite.

Weird.

Nov. 24th, 2008 12:16 am
ishyface: (think happy thoughts)
Something I realized a little while ago: I want to get married someday.

Not now. Not tomorrow. Not even soon. I'm only twenty, for God's sake, it's not like I'm in a rush. But someday. Eventually. In the, you know, very distant future.

It doesn't sound like a big, earth-shattering sort of realization when I say it like that, but it really is for me. I remember deciding rather definitely when I was younger that marriage was a silly outdated institution and I didn't want to have anything to do with it ever, and I kind of feel weird for not feeling that way anymore.

I mean, I was twelve at the time. Still.

Probably what weirds me out the most about this is that I've always kind of been snooty about the whole queer marriage thing- like people who get married, or even just want to, are cleaving to our repressive anti-sexual heterosexist capitalist patriarchal blah blah blabbity blah. Discovering that I'd actually like to partake in that represssive et cetera, coupled with the (fairly recent) discovery that I'm monosexual and monogamous, makes me worry that I'm becoming one of those dam' assimilationist queers that I used to get so het up about. (Pun intended.) I don't think I am, exactly- just because some of my personal tastes and desires happen to line up with certain social norms doesn't mean I haven't questioned those norms, or that those tastes and desires are illegitimate- but it makes me a little uneasy.

But still. I look at people who are married, people who've been with another person for a long time, people who can celebrate that, people who work, and I think, I want that. Not now. Not even soon. But someday.

Weird.
ishyface: (Default)
The fun thing about being genderqueer is that you just can't win for losing sometimes.

Lately I've been trying out a different aesthetic. Girl-cut shirts, eyeliner, skinny jeans, femmey stuff like that. And while I like it, and while I think it looks fucking nifty, I don't like the baggage that goes along with it.

Part of the reason why I've always gone for baggier clothes is because it hides my shape. I'm a pretty curvy person and a lot of times that bothers me- it's harder to pass when you've got child-bearing hips, and even though a lot of the time I don't pass anyway it's still nice to have that extra bit of security. For the past few years I've mostly bought things a couple of sizes too big for me because of that. Now that I'm getting into more form-fitting stuff that's not really an option. People can tell what my assigned sex is, and they treat me differently because of it.

It's the little things you notice. When you pass for a guy- or even just for a very butch girl- people do not maintain eye contact as long. They do not hold doors open or try to strike up conversations on the bus as often. They don't call you by pet names, and they don't ask if you need to be walked to your car. Masculinity gives you a kind of impenetrability, and I mean that in as many senses of the word as you like. Masculinity means that people assume you can take care of yourself, that no one will fuck (with) you. It means that you can move freely and that people won't ask as many questions. This, I suppose, is part of what they call male privilege.

The first time I noticed a difference was in the summer. I'd been playing around with eye makeup that morning and was wearing a pink shirt, and I went downtown for some reason or other. After an hour or two I went into a pizza place to get some lunch, and the guy at the counter smiled at me and called me "sweetie."

I'd been going to that pizza place for about four years, and that guy had been working there the whole time. He'd never "sweetie'd" me before. Never smiled. It was weird.

It's the little things you notice. People rushing to hold a door for you. A casual "honey" from someone who's known you five minutes. Profs passing you over in class. Questions about boys- which ones are cute, which ones are nice, which ones you're dating (and if not, why not?). People telling you that you "look nice"- not because you actually do, but because you look more like what they think you should look like. People assuming that you want to talk to them, or sit with them, or fuck them, because it's not like you're doing anything better with your time, right? People explaining things to you. Femininity opens you up in that way- or, rather, it lets people assume that you are opened up. Emotionally, physically, sexually, whatever, you're available and convenient and you'd damn well better be grateful, too.

It's all because of a few pieces of clothing and a stick of fucking kohl, and it pisses me off.

My biology is incidental to my personhood. I'm not a different person because I've got two X chromosomes instead of a Y; wearing eyeliner and skinny jeans doesn't make me a girl, any more than it makes fucking Pete Wentz a girl. It shouldn't carry so many gendered connotations. There's nothing female about makeup (the Celts agree) or tight pants (hey there, Shakespeare) or the colour pink (the "proper" colour for boy's clothing until very recently). There's nothing male about them, either. They're just things. That's all.

But people pounce on them and make judgments and decide based on their own preconceptions and insecurities whether you're a boy or a girl (and God help you if they can't decide). And THEN they decide how they should react to you, not in spite of gender but because of it. It's stupid, and it's fucked up, and I don't like it.

My identity's complicated. I'm not a boy (except for when I am), I'm not a girl (except for when I am), I'm not really both or a mixture or something in between (except for when I am). I'm Gerald.

I wish there was some way I could get that across without having to conform to a fucking dress code.

On Lolita.

Jul. 7th, 2007 11:11 pm
ishyface: (Default)
"I felt really sorry for Humbert. Lolita seduced him!"

Before I ever read Lolita I used to hear people say this a lot. Since I hadn't read the book, it kind of went in one ear and out the other. I knew what the book was about, of course- I don't think there're many people who don't know what Lolita is about- but I thought that maybe I'd gotten it wrong. Maybe there was some sort of dynamic I didn't understand. Or maybe Dolores was secretly a forty-year-old Russian prison guard posing as a little girl and the book was really a jab by Nabokov at international communism.

Or maybe I was just more immune to bullshit back then.

Having read the book this year- yeah, it took me this long- and wow, those people sure were full of it, eh?

Humbert Humbert- quite aside from being an unreliable narrator- is not a nice guy. Not even a little. It's weird that I feel like I need to say that about a guy who marries one woman because she looks and acts like a prepubescent girl, marries another woman to gain access to her prepubescent daughter (all the while ripping this woman to pieces in his own mind out of some misplaced superiority complex), kidnaps and rapes said daughter, and drags her around the country after telling her that her mother is in the hospital, but apparently this all adds up to "poor innocent adult man seduced by dastardly twelve-year-old."

Buying sleeping pills so you can drug your stepdaughter and rape her for six hours does not qualify as "seduced." Neither does justifying your attraction to underage girls by telling yourself they're not really children at all, but demonic temptresses in the form of twelve-year-olds.

The weird thing is, even Humbert doesn't try to argue that Lo seduced him. In fact, he usually sets himself up as the active party, and even (sort of) acknowledges that he's hurting her- although, being Humbert, he goes about it in a particularly florid, patronizing way:

"There was the day, during our first trip- our first circle of paradise- when in order to enjoy my phantasms in peace I firmly decided to ignore what I could not help perceiving, the fact that I was to her not a boy friend, not a glamour man, not a pal, not even a person at all, but just two eyes and a foot of engorged brawn- to mention only mentionable matters. There was the day when having withdrawn the functional promise I had made her on the eve (whatever she had set her funny little heart on- a roller rink with some special plastic floor or a movie matinee to which she wanted to go alone), I happened to glimpse from the bathroom, through a chance combination of mirror aslant and door ajar, a look on her face... that look I cannot exactly describe... an expression of helplessness so perfect that it seemed to grade into one of rather comfortable inanity just because this was the very limit of injustice and frustration- and every limit presupposes something beyond it- hence the neutral illumination." (283)

He mentions it again a few pages later:

"But the awful point of the whole argument was this. It had become gradually clear to my conventional Lolita during our singular and bestial cohabitation that even the most miserable of family lives was better than the parody of incest, which, in the long run, was the best I could offer the waif." (287)

Yeah, Lo had a crush on Humbert. Yeah, she'd experimented with other kids her own age. Yeah, she seems to be in control the first time they had sex- that is, after Humbert fed her what he thought were sleeping pills and tried to rape her in her sleep. She even uses her influence over him to get things she wants, because she is helpless and wants to gain some sort of control over her life, and to do that she needs to use the means at hand.

This does not mean she seduced him. You know, due to that whole "asswipe child molester" thing.
ishyface: (Default)
I'm not sure why I'm writing this. It's possibly because I watched Velvet Goldmine and found myself longing for an era, however brief, when sexual ambiguity and gender bending were actually cool. Or it could be because I watched Velvet Goldmine and rediscovered my little boy crush on Ewan McGregor. Either way, I feel the need to get this off my spindly little shoulders.

This is long. Very long, in fact. )

And a complimentary comic about David Bowie. For giggles. )

* Unless you are a member of [livejournal.com profile] boy_touching or go to the same parties I do.

** Or the people who say that the existence of the aforementioned knuckle-draggers means that queer women are accepted by the mainstream. That is not acceptance, people, that is objectifying ickiness. Kind of like how a bird is not a cat.

*** Seriously, what high school did these people go to? More importantly, why couldn't I have gone too?

**** Or Tim Curry in fishnets, because the man's got a killer pair of legs.
ishyface: (Default)
The first day in Anthropology...

Me: *settles down quite happily in chair*
Random guy, scooting up next to me: Hey.
Me: *noncommittal grunt*
Random guy: Yeah, you were the only other guy in here, so I figured I'd sit next to you.
Me: *noncommittal grunt*
Me, inside: OMG \:D/

I remember I was at somebody's party and the boys went to one wall and the girls went to another, and I had no idea where to go. )

Also... )

In other news, I wish I looked like Carl Barat. Or possibly Michael Pitt. Or both.

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