PSA time!

Feb. 15th, 2010 08:36 pm
ishyface: (fuck you)
To the world at large:

No, I do not want to be "one of the girls."

I don't want to be "one of the boys," either.

I want to be "one of the skippy twee blue-haired pansy-ass genderqueer kids named Gerald," because that's what I am. I'm not a girl.* I'm not a boy.** I'm me.***

So stop trying to friggin' gender me already.****

With all due respect,
a skippy twee blue-haired pansy-ass genderqueer kid named Gerald

* Except when I am.

** Except when I am.

*** Except when I'm not.

**** Honestly, I could easily extend this to "stop trying to friggin' gender EVERYBODY already," because I have been reading queer theory lately and it makes me even madder about the gender binary than ever. And, um, I'm usually pretty pissed about it! AS YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED. Seriously, guys, can we just all chill out and be cool and do what we want to do without checking our Handy-Dandy Gender Guides to make sure it's okay first?
ishyface: (*beam*)
My little brother is growing out his hair and wearing purple skinny jeans because he refuses to conform to gender stereotypes. (His words.)

Lyn-Z is in the "Desolation Row" video.

The WTF blanket.

Gerard Way exists and is a hand-talker.

Johanna Sigurdardottir, named as Iceland's prime minister on Sunday, is the first openly lesbian head of government in Europe, if not the world - at least in modern times.

My little sister is encouraging me to recast Buffy the Vampire Slayer with William Beckett as Buffy and Guy Ripley as Spike.
ishyface: (oh my god!)

ALSO I JUST BANGED YOUR MOM MY ELBOW REALLY BAD WHILE DANCING AROUND TO "VIZ." Even my injuries are gay! It'd be funny if it didn't hurt. :(


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 I remember deciding rather definitely when I was younger that marriage was a silly outdated institution and I didn't want to have anything to do with it ever, and I kind of feel weird for not feeling that way anymore.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.

ishyface: (Default)
Today was the ninth annual Transgender Day of Remembrance.

Little Sister and I went to a TGDR gathering downtown. It was only a few people, but there was a very solemn viewing of Ma Vie En Rose and coffee and a very interesting discussion about transphobia and gender identity. Mostly it was nice to just be there with other like-minded people, because I've never really gotten the opportunity to observe the day in any significant way and I think it's important. I'm really, really glad that Little Sister was there because I didn't want to be alone tonight, and I'm so fucking impressed that she was so open-minded and mature about the people there and the subjects we discussed. She's a good little sister. :)

I'm going to light a candle before I go to bed.

Remember the dead.


Nov. 15th, 2008 01:05 am
ishyface: (Default)
Things that are not cool about the latest issue of Out magazine:

Katy Perry being on the cover.

Things that are cool about the latest issue of Out Magazine:

This picture of Amanda Palmer hanging out with Tegan and Sara. )
ishyface: (fuck you)
Fuck you, Dan Savage.

Oh, no, those scary black people are threatening the nice white gays! (Because there's never any crossover between those two groups, nuh uh.) Let's blame THEM for Prop 8 passing. Not conservative scare tactics. Not the far right. Not fundamentalist Christians. Not the SCARY OLD WHITE DUDES WHO DRAFTED THE GODDAMN THING. Nope, it was all up to black folks and THEY BLEW IT GOSH DARN THEM.

ishyface: (*beam*)
I started my bookstore job on Tuesday.


(Restocking the erotica section is a little weird, though. I never knew how many people wrote sexy books about vampires. And all the titles have words like "velvet" and "forbidden" and "desire" and "seduction" in them. If I wrote a book called Velvet Seduction, Forbidden Desire: The Sensual Adventures of Horatio Ravisham, Vampire Demon-Lover I would make a bundle. A bundle I would not be able to tell my mother about, but a bundle nonetheless.)

Continuing the theme of "Things That Make Ish Ridiculously Happy," Tom Lenk came out! Which means I have an excuse to post a video full of my favourite Andrew moments, which means everybody wins. (Especially Tom Lenk.)

And while I'm at it...

... it's almost Halloween!


This morning I played around with eyeliner. I wanted to get that consumptive look. )

Whenever I list movies that make me cry I forget to put Pleasantville on there. It's Jeff Daniels' character that does me in- when he stares at the art book and says "where am I going to see colours like that?" (Little known fact: there is a town pretty close to St. John's that is named Pleasantville! It makes me laugh and laugh and then kind of want to take the bus there so I can hang out with Joan Allen.)

... This entry has no unifying theme. I mean, other than "DEAR INTERNETS: HERE ARE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY. ALSO, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY SOON. ALSO, I'M A CAMWHORE."
ishyface: (*beam*)
At dinner tonight we were talking about sexuality- queerness, specifically- and my dad was actually contributing to the conversation. This is really rare for him. He's not the most prejudiced person I've ever met, but he's always been pretty... tetchy on the subject, for reasons which are partly unknown, partly tied up in his very Catholic upbringing, and partly due to him wanting very much to be a Manly Man. Tonight, however, he was positively verbose. He was talking very earnestly about how using the word "gay" as a pejorative is wrong and about how he thought he might be gay when he was a teenager and I looked at him and felt very, very proud, because it was only a few years ago that I came out to him and my mother and he told me it was a phase and that queer folks made him uncomfortable and he's come so far since then.

And then he turned to me and asked, very slowly:

"So, uh... when a gay person gives another gay person a present... what does that mean?"

I'm not sure what's better, the fact that he thinks gay people giving each other presents has some kind of dire significance on the level of the rites of the Freemasons or the fact that he thinks I'd know.
ishyface: (Default)
Hey, guys! Wanna see the transphobic shit that was printed in the Chronicle Herald?

Heck yes you do! )

He was specifically asked by one of the panelists not to write about the speakers, and, if he did so, to change the names. And then to not only ignore their express wishes, but to spew bigoted garbage like that? I call bullshit.

So I wrote him a letter. )

You can yell at email Duffy at, and the Chronicle Herald at

Dude lives in Halifax, for fuck's sake. The whole queer community there is gonna be on him like a ton of (immaculately groomed) bricks.

ETA: Duffy just emailed me back.

His reply, under the cut. )

Oh, not Herald Policy? That makes it okay, then!

Way to not address... well, fucking ANYTHING, ya douchetool.
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 [ 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)
There are few things more uncomfortable than having your little sister and her friend ask you interested questions about the mechanics of queer sex.

However, there are few things more satisfying than discussing the environment and politics with said little sister and friend, so I guess things balance out.

(Also, I now own this and this. And a pin that says "God is too big for one religion." It makes me sad that I always want to buy anti-capitalist buttons, though. Even if I pretended it was due to being fashionably ironic*, I'd die inside of shame.)

This week has been a little dramatic. I think the drama reached its high point tonight, when Mum discovered that my little sister's ex-best friend** posted pictures of her (the friend, not Little Sister) touching herself on the Internet. This is also the first year anniversary of Paula Gallant's murder at the local elementary.

Sometimes I wonder if this is why the suburbs are such a good place to raise your kids.

I've noticed since coming home that I feel less afraid about things. My family's noticed it, too- I'm talking more, being more social, not staring at my feet as I walk. Kerrin's theory is that since I've been amongst real strangers, socializing with people I don't know very well doesn't scare me as much anymore. My theory is that that last bout of exam panic sucked the fear clean out of me.

Aaaaaand it's another end-of-the-year meme. )

I seem to be allergic to my house. *violent sneeze*

Sometimes I want to be a warm yellow light that shines over everyone. Sometimes I want to do nothing other than twirl around in a field full of buttercups and fluffy wee kittens. Sometimes I like to listen to songs about the moon.

But mostly I just want a cup of tea.

* Subject of future journal rant: how much I hate fashionable irony. Especially if it's a person's excuse for telling racist jokes.

** They're not friends anymore because Friend- who has been consistently racist, homophobic, and destructive, so I'm not too torn up about the friend breakup- set Little Sister up with a boy from Dartmouth, who then dumped Sister and started going out with Friend.

You know, when I was thirteen the only real drama in my life was the constant "will they/won't they" situation with Best Friend and the time I nearly ruined the library's only copy of A Wrinkle In Time. I feel slightly miffed. And old.
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.
ishyface: (feeling soft)
When I look at you, my voice fails me;
My tongue is broken. Through my body
A fire runs, burning, tingling.
My eyes cannot see, my ears hear a roaring noise,
Sweat pours down me, I shiver and shake.
I am paler than grass in autumn.
I feel as if death is close upon me.
I am lost in love.

Stereotype or no, I fucking love Sappho.

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