I have a fairly tumultuous relationship with public holidays, and this is especially true of religious holidays that have gone public. I mean, why am I given (read: forced to take) time off to celebrate the birth and death of Jesus instead of, say, Foucault? Why should I have to juggle work and participating in important cultural events just because my primary source of community has to do with my sexuality, and not my religious beliefs? Do we not live in a big enough, diverse enough, creative enough world to come up with some sort of holiday rostering system so that instead of the entire country shutting down all at once we could divvy things up between the Christians and the Jews and the Muslims and the Queers and the Footy fanatics and all the other various groups that hold more important other dates on the calendar?
I've been reflecting on holidays lately, and particularly on Easter because Australia has this whole 'hot cross bun' phenomenon that has mystified me for the past 4 years - but that's another story! Anyways, I've been thinking about the holidays and I've realized something: Easter has long been my favourite of the lot! (If you're curious, I deem Thanksgiving the worst. It's a blatant celebration of white privilege and turkey slaughtering, and I really don't think those are things to have a party about.)
Easter has always had this mythical, ethereal feel to it. There were attempts to bring me up Catholic - but like trying to raise a chicken to be a duck, it didn't take. I was always really perplexed and amused by the religious traditions that surround Easter. Ash Wednesday, Lent, the stations of the cross... they are all steeped in this seriousness and solemness that I could never understand. Perhaps because at the same time as all of this was going on, all the commercials on TV told of a magical egg laying bunny that comes once a year to deposit chocolate around your house.
You've gotta admit, that sends a pretty confusing message! I mean, at least there is some sort of a logical link between Santa and Jesus's birth: you get presents on your birthday! With Easter it's like: man gets tortured and killed and rises from the dead, so a bunny comes 'round and lays chocolate eggs at your house. I don't really know much about zombies, so maybe the logical conclusion of a zombie uprising IS a chocolate egg laying rabbit. I've seen lots of birthday celebrations and there's always an exchange of gifts. I've only ever celebrated the one zombie uprising, so I don't have a frame of reference for these things.
Growing up, the Easter tradition at my house was to have an Easter egg scavenger hunt. We'd wake up on Easter Sunday and discover that the Easter bunny had come by and deposited a handful of chocolate eggs in our rooms, along with a rather cryptic note (which, I think, is to be expected from a bunny who both lays chocolate eggs and has good penmanship). The note would contain a riddle, the solution to which would take you to your next clue - and next lot of chocolate. There would be a series of these notes scattered in all sorts of crazy locations throughout the house, and I believe the idea was that the riddles got progressively harder to solve as you got closer to finding your Easter basket - which was always filled with amazingness!
As I'm writing this, I'm seeing a link between my love of Easter and my lifelong love of pirates... which also reminds me of one of my favourite memories of my Dad. I used to go on searches for buried treasure, and would find really random things (like a dog's milk bone) and claim them as my treasure. One day, I drew up a pirates map and pretended that it was not something I had just completely made up myself. I asked my Dad to take me to the park so that we could investigate this map and go digging for buried treasure. We went to the park and eventually I decided that we had reached the 'X marks the spot' spot, and we started to dig. In a classic Dad move, my Dad made up some BS about how I should check just behind me, which I did. While my back was turned, he buried some coins and drew an X where I'd been sitting and called me back to inform me I'd been sitting on the X all along! I knew that he'd done it - I'm sure I probably stood there and told him off for doing it too (which he would have denied vehemently) - but I'm glad that he did. Even though I knew it was all make believe, he'd made the magic real.
Ha! Oh geez! This lifelong love of scavenger hunts and finding unexpected things... it's no wonder I grew up to be a researcher!!
But back to Easter! Those Easter egg hunts were the best! I remember one year my brother and I were gradually lead into the laundry room, where our Easter baskets were strategically hidden inside the washer and dryer. We both thought that was just absolutely preposterous of the Easter bunny! Silly rabbit! Another year, as I was getting older (and hence my riddles were getting a lot harder - I seem to recall some of them involving solving mathematical equations...), I was given a riddle that I was completely unable to solve. In my memory, we sat there for an hour while I tried to make sense of the bloody thing. Meanwhile, my little brother has solved all his clues and is happily making his way into a sugar coma.
I think in many ways my parents (and for those of you unfamiliar with my family dynamics, I have two sets) balanced each other out well: for all the attempts at 'gendering' I got from my Dad, my Mom taught me how to be self-sufficient and do my own heavy lifting. It's because of her that, no matter what happens in life, I can pick myself up and put myself back on track. I'm not really sure who's responsible for my love of doing laundry though...
I'm missing my family a lot this Easter. This year, my life... let's just say I passed 'full on' a few stops back! Being on my own, so far away from my family, sometimes it's tough. Now that I'm so close to finishing my thesis that I can almost taste it, what I need more than anything is to just lock myself away in a room where I can think big thoughts and not have to worry about the minutiae of life: those things like having food in the house, or cooking nutritious food, or having clean dishes, or having clean clothes, or earning an income... It's not the kind of thing that everyone is going to understand, but this level of intellectual work is fucking exhausting! It zaps your mental energy, leaving you in a zombie-like state where making small, day-to-day decisions that normally wouldn't seem to require much thought become painful. For example: I love cooking, but lately, the thought of having to find the time to cook has made me want to cry.
I have a lot of amazing friends who, seriously, I cannot even begin to explain how grateful I am for them and their support! Hubby especially. The number of times he's cooked for me, cut my hair, and just held my hand as I've freaked out... He makes up a lot for not having my family to turn to for those immediate, day-to-day things we all so often just need some help and support with. And he's certainly not the only one. I feel like I've got a whole village of people looking out for me and doing what they can to help me along, and I cannot even begin to express how much I appreciate everything that all of my friends do for me, big and small.
But still, I am really looking forward to going 'home' in a few months (dates still TBD) and just letting my family be responsible for my day-to-day existence, just for a bit!
Friday, April 6, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Kissing Sydney
Have you ever met someone and just clicked with them, forming a friendship before you even really know much of anything about one another? I've made a heap of friends like that recently. It may seem like the kind of connection that is superficial and won't last, but when you click with someone so easily, maintaining a friendship with them is really quite easy. Case in point, my friend T. We met 7.5 years ago when we were both studying in Amsterdam and have stayed in touch over the years. In one of those funny coincidences that make me think the world is not such a big place, she moved to Sydney not all that long after I moved to Melbourne. As I never seem to travel anymore, we try to catch up whenever she's in Melbourne. When she was down in November, she invited me to come up to Sydney for Mardi Gras and stay with her. I booked my flight the next day.
On New Years Eve I declared 2012 the kissing year and was issued a challenge to kiss 52 girls in 52 weeks. This was turning out to be easier said than done. By the beginning of February I hadn't kissed anyone; not even hubby! One night I was out at a queer club with Trouble and she made a comment about how it was obvious we weren't together as we were both checking everyone else out. So I grabbed her and pashed her and declared it a date (a running joke between us). The kissing picked up from there, but still, when March rolled around I'd only reached 4/52. Drastic actions were needed if I was ever going to reach my goal! And I knew just the thing...
T was marching in the parade with Scarlet Alliance and Gender Agenda, promoting sex worker rights; something that I am very much in favour of. She invited me to march with them, but initially I decided to be a big lameypants and said I wanted to just watch the parade this year as I'd never seen it before. But we went out for dinner with some of her friends on Friday and they informed me that when you march in the parade you spend several hours in this holding area where everyone lines up and it's a big ass party. Quite frankly, that sounded like a helluva lot more fun than standing around on some street corner all night. So I marched! And boy am I ever glad that I did!! In that one night I managed to pash 31 girls; all but 3 of whom were a direct result of my marching in the parade.
Having decided to march, I of course needed something outrageous to wear. Our group had a decriminalise sex work theme, so some people were wearing orange jumpsuits and shackles, some were dressed as sexy cops, and everyone else was dressed in red. And then there was me...
The outfit certainly got me lots of attention, especially the eyelashes! Girls kept stopping me and asking to take a picture with me, to which I replied "Sure, but it will cost you a kiss." Most of those kisses were really conservative ones - on the cheek or a peck on the lips - and did not count as part of my tally. Had they, my total of girls kissed would be significantly higher. That pre-parade area was insane! For awhile there it was like everywhere I turned I was kissing someone.
But it wasn't all about the kissing. I met heaps of lovely people who would just come over and have a friendly chat. My favourite non pashed randoms that I met were the Snow Queen and King (both women, obviously) who I met in a queue for the loo. It was absolutely pissing down rain and they were both standing under a massive umbrella, so I stood under it with them and we struck up a friendly conversation. They were marching with the Jews, and had I been Jewish I apparently would have made excellent marriage material (no, I did not tell them that I'm both anti-religion and anti-marriage).
We were in the pre-parade holding area for at least 3 hours before we started marching (possibly longer as we were bringing up the rear) and it was pouring rain. We were marching with red umbrellas, which was fortunate, but I still got completely drenched. And you know, since I was wearing a white t-shirt that had been completely soaked through, the only sensible thing to do really was to ditch the bra... And of course, after mixing champagne and vodka, the next logical move was to flash the drag kings...
My strategy for kissing girls was basically to run up to anyone who looked kissable and made eye contact with me for more than 5 seconds and pash them. It made the march super fun! Sometimes women were screaming from the sidelines for me to come over and kiss them. It was awesome!!
After the parade we went to a party at the Red Rattler called Oi!! Monsta Gras. That people would be dressed up like monsters had not even crossed my mind, so when I walked in, I was blown away by all the amazing costumes. And, like any good queer party, I ran into people I knew and a couple gay guys fell in love with me. It was a pretty awesome party. I mean, I was grinding with The Hulk and I pashed a unicorn! But more on that later.
As the night went on, it got harder and harder for me to find girls to pash. This seemed counter intuitive; usually as the night goes on, lips get looser. But then I saw myself in the mirror and suddenly I understood why!
We made it home at about 4am, which, given T lives in Manly, was about 3 hours earlier than I actually had expected to be home by. And, true to form, I woke up at 7am the next morning. And by next I mean same. There was nothing for it but to go wander down to the beach, get some Ben and Jerry's for breakfast, grab a coffee and get a pedicure. I know, it's a rough life!
Well, I'm sure you're all dying to get the goss on these 31 girls that I pashed. There is no way that I could possibly recall them all - like I said, it was a lot of me running into the crowd, making out with random people, then running back - but I can give you a Greatest Hits summary!
#5: The Boys
Yeah, yeah, yeah, they weren't meant to count BUT it was Mardi Gras and everyone's a little bit queer anyways, right? Both the boys I pashed were marching with us... as were several of the girls, but I'll get to that! After some random pashing in the pre-parade area I was complaining about how conservatively people were kissing me, and a guy from the Australian Sex Party offered to give me a real kiss - the kind you see naval officers give their girlfriends when they return home for shore leave. That didn't count at first, but after the third time I figured he could be an honorary girl. Same with the pirate. Goodness he was gorgeous! Tall, dark and handsome in an effeminate way, and totally straight. And very confused as to why I - as a lesbian - was giving him a free pass to kiss me. Desire is a funny thing and kissing is a lot of fun! There's no need for it to be anything more.
#4: The Unicorn
At the after party, I had wandered up to a couple of girls on the dance floor and was trying to convince one of them - or probably all of them - to pash me. I recall that I was focused on the one who was not dressed up as anything, who then informed me that while she wasn't going to pash me, her friend - the unicorn - would be most happy to oblige. I looked at her friend and said "I've never pashed a unicorn before." To which she shrugged and gave me a kiss, with just a bit of sneaky tongue. I didn't realize it was sneaky tongue until after we stopped kissing and this blue haired woman was staring at us going WTF?! I am interested in many things; causing lesbian drama is not one of them! I gave her friend shit and apologised to the girlfriend and walked away. Still, I figured pashing a unicorn has got to be good luck...
#3: The $20 Kiss
This was just beyond outrageous! One of T's friends said that she'd help me with my pashing numbers but couldn't because she's in a relationship. Fair enough. But then, as the night went on, they came to an agreement that she could kiss me if I paid her $20 for it. I was just like "Dude, you're barking up the wrong tree if you think I'm going to pay $20 for a kiss!" She kept going on about how amazing a kisser she is and how at a loss I was, and I was not budging about the money, so we were at a stalemate. But then! T, highly amused by the whole situation, bought me a $20 kiss with her friend!!! It was... a very vigorous kiss. Personally, I like tongue to be more hinted at than made explicit. We felt differently about this. The bite at the end was pretty hot though.
#2: Special Guest Appearance
I have another friend who is from Melbourne but has moved to Sydney and I was hoping to catch up with her over the weekend. I called her up and let her know I'd be marching in the parade and she said she'd be my cheer squad. We both had plans to go to the same party after the parade, so I figured I'd see her there. I tried to keep an eye out for her during the parade, but I figured I must have missed her. Then, all of a sudden, as I was just walking along, pulling our suitcase and having a break from the pashing, she jumped the barrier, ran into the parade, and pashed me! It was pretty hot! Given that was all I ended up seeing of her during my trip, I'd say we made the most of our time!
#1: The Mardi Gras Miracle
So as I said before, I pashed a few of the people who were marching with us. There was this one girl who I had seen before we left the Scarlett Alliance office that I thought was pretty cute and was a bit shy to go up to (I am a lot more forward with people when I know all I want is a kiss). As we were waiting for the parade to start we were sitting on the sidewalk, in the ran, having a chat and I told her about my kissing challenge. She said "Well, I'll pash you." And we proceeded to have a very nice kiss that left us both smiling. We resumed our conversation and discovered that we were both planning on going to the same after party. Then I got a call from T and I had to run off and try to find her. As the evening progressed, I still had this kiss on my mind. So when we returned to actually get lined up to march, I went up to her and pashed her again. She informed me that if I was to continue doing that it would really make her night. Unfortunately, I was being a bit too in the moment and that was the last I saw of her! I had not even thought to exchange numbers to ensure we were able to meet up later. This did not play too heavily on my mind on the Saturday, but come Sunday, I had regret!
Sunday afternoon there were various post Mardi Gras parties happening around the city. T and I made plans to meet up with some of her friends at a party in Newtown. We were all pretty exhausted and even though the party was pumping, the rain was still pouring down, and the dance floor was outside. So we decided to head off and get some food and hope that the rain would let up. It did, and we returned, but none of us were really all that keen to stay. So we decided to have one drink and hit the dance floor and then head off. I was dancing away when a familiar face walked past - one of the guys who had been marching with us, and was friends with the girl I had pashed! At first I just smiled at him, but then the logical part of my brain gave me a thunk and I asked him if he could either give me this girl's number or give her mine. He gave me her's and I promptly sent her a text. We weren't able to meet up again whilst I was in Sydney, but she has plans to come down to Melbourne, and I have a date! You see? Pashing a unicorn is good luck!!
On New Years Eve I declared 2012 the kissing year and was issued a challenge to kiss 52 girls in 52 weeks. This was turning out to be easier said than done. By the beginning of February I hadn't kissed anyone; not even hubby! One night I was out at a queer club with Trouble and she made a comment about how it was obvious we weren't together as we were both checking everyone else out. So I grabbed her and pashed her and declared it a date (a running joke between us). The kissing picked up from there, but still, when March rolled around I'd only reached 4/52. Drastic actions were needed if I was ever going to reach my goal! And I knew just the thing...
T was marching in the parade with Scarlet Alliance and Gender Agenda, promoting sex worker rights; something that I am very much in favour of. She invited me to march with them, but initially I decided to be a big lameypants and said I wanted to just watch the parade this year as I'd never seen it before. But we went out for dinner with some of her friends on Friday and they informed me that when you march in the parade you spend several hours in this holding area where everyone lines up and it's a big ass party. Quite frankly, that sounded like a helluva lot more fun than standing around on some street corner all night. So I marched! And boy am I ever glad that I did!! In that one night I managed to pash 31 girls; all but 3 of whom were a direct result of my marching in the parade.
Having decided to march, I of course needed something outrageous to wear. Our group had a decriminalise sex work theme, so some people were wearing orange jumpsuits and shackles, some were dressed as sexy cops, and everyone else was dressed in red. And then there was me...
The outfit certainly got me lots of attention, especially the eyelashes! Girls kept stopping me and asking to take a picture with me, to which I replied "Sure, but it will cost you a kiss." Most of those kisses were really conservative ones - on the cheek or a peck on the lips - and did not count as part of my tally. Had they, my total of girls kissed would be significantly higher. That pre-parade area was insane! For awhile there it was like everywhere I turned I was kissing someone.
But it wasn't all about the kissing. I met heaps of lovely people who would just come over and have a friendly chat. My favourite non pashed randoms that I met were the Snow Queen and King (both women, obviously) who I met in a queue for the loo. It was absolutely pissing down rain and they were both standing under a massive umbrella, so I stood under it with them and we struck up a friendly conversation. They were marching with the Jews, and had I been Jewish I apparently would have made excellent marriage material (no, I did not tell them that I'm both anti-religion and anti-marriage).
We were in the pre-parade holding area for at least 3 hours before we started marching (possibly longer as we were bringing up the rear) and it was pouring rain. We were marching with red umbrellas, which was fortunate, but I still got completely drenched. And you know, since I was wearing a white t-shirt that had been completely soaked through, the only sensible thing to do really was to ditch the bra... And of course, after mixing champagne and vodka, the next logical move was to flash the drag kings...
My strategy for kissing girls was basically to run up to anyone who looked kissable and made eye contact with me for more than 5 seconds and pash them. It made the march super fun! Sometimes women were screaming from the sidelines for me to come over and kiss them. It was awesome!!
After the parade we went to a party at the Red Rattler called Oi!! Monsta Gras. That people would be dressed up like monsters had not even crossed my mind, so when I walked in, I was blown away by all the amazing costumes. And, like any good queer party, I ran into people I knew and a couple gay guys fell in love with me. It was a pretty awesome party. I mean, I was grinding with The Hulk and I pashed a unicorn! But more on that later.
As the night went on, it got harder and harder for me to find girls to pash. This seemed counter intuitive; usually as the night goes on, lips get looser. But then I saw myself in the mirror and suddenly I understood why!
We made it home at about 4am, which, given T lives in Manly, was about 3 hours earlier than I actually had expected to be home by. And, true to form, I woke up at 7am the next morning. And by next I mean same. There was nothing for it but to go wander down to the beach, get some Ben and Jerry's for breakfast, grab a coffee and get a pedicure. I know, it's a rough life!
Well, I'm sure you're all dying to get the goss on these 31 girls that I pashed. There is no way that I could possibly recall them all - like I said, it was a lot of me running into the crowd, making out with random people, then running back - but I can give you a Greatest Hits summary!
#5: The Boys
Yeah, yeah, yeah, they weren't meant to count BUT it was Mardi Gras and everyone's a little bit queer anyways, right? Both the boys I pashed were marching with us... as were several of the girls, but I'll get to that! After some random pashing in the pre-parade area I was complaining about how conservatively people were kissing me, and a guy from the Australian Sex Party offered to give me a real kiss - the kind you see naval officers give their girlfriends when they return home for shore leave. That didn't count at first, but after the third time I figured he could be an honorary girl. Same with the pirate. Goodness he was gorgeous! Tall, dark and handsome in an effeminate way, and totally straight. And very confused as to why I - as a lesbian - was giving him a free pass to kiss me. Desire is a funny thing and kissing is a lot of fun! There's no need for it to be anything more.
#4: The Unicorn
At the after party, I had wandered up to a couple of girls on the dance floor and was trying to convince one of them - or probably all of them - to pash me. I recall that I was focused on the one who was not dressed up as anything, who then informed me that while she wasn't going to pash me, her friend - the unicorn - would be most happy to oblige. I looked at her friend and said "I've never pashed a unicorn before." To which she shrugged and gave me a kiss, with just a bit of sneaky tongue. I didn't realize it was sneaky tongue until after we stopped kissing and this blue haired woman was staring at us going WTF?! I am interested in many things; causing lesbian drama is not one of them! I gave her friend shit and apologised to the girlfriend and walked away. Still, I figured pashing a unicorn has got to be good luck...
#3: The $20 Kiss
This was just beyond outrageous! One of T's friends said that she'd help me with my pashing numbers but couldn't because she's in a relationship. Fair enough. But then, as the night went on, they came to an agreement that she could kiss me if I paid her $20 for it. I was just like "Dude, you're barking up the wrong tree if you think I'm going to pay $20 for a kiss!" She kept going on about how amazing a kisser she is and how at a loss I was, and I was not budging about the money, so we were at a stalemate. But then! T, highly amused by the whole situation, bought me a $20 kiss with her friend!!! It was... a very vigorous kiss. Personally, I like tongue to be more hinted at than made explicit. We felt differently about this. The bite at the end was pretty hot though.
#2: Special Guest Appearance
I have another friend who is from Melbourne but has moved to Sydney and I was hoping to catch up with her over the weekend. I called her up and let her know I'd be marching in the parade and she said she'd be my cheer squad. We both had plans to go to the same party after the parade, so I figured I'd see her there. I tried to keep an eye out for her during the parade, but I figured I must have missed her. Then, all of a sudden, as I was just walking along, pulling our suitcase and having a break from the pashing, she jumped the barrier, ran into the parade, and pashed me! It was pretty hot! Given that was all I ended up seeing of her during my trip, I'd say we made the most of our time!
#1: The Mardi Gras Miracle
So as I said before, I pashed a few of the people who were marching with us. There was this one girl who I had seen before we left the Scarlett Alliance office that I thought was pretty cute and was a bit shy to go up to (I am a lot more forward with people when I know all I want is a kiss). As we were waiting for the parade to start we were sitting on the sidewalk, in the ran, having a chat and I told her about my kissing challenge. She said "Well, I'll pash you." And we proceeded to have a very nice kiss that left us both smiling. We resumed our conversation and discovered that we were both planning on going to the same after party. Then I got a call from T and I had to run off and try to find her. As the evening progressed, I still had this kiss on my mind. So when we returned to actually get lined up to march, I went up to her and pashed her again. She informed me that if I was to continue doing that it would really make her night. Unfortunately, I was being a bit too in the moment and that was the last I saw of her! I had not even thought to exchange numbers to ensure we were able to meet up later. This did not play too heavily on my mind on the Saturday, but come Sunday, I had regret!
Sunday afternoon there were various post Mardi Gras parties happening around the city. T and I made plans to meet up with some of her friends at a party in Newtown. We were all pretty exhausted and even though the party was pumping, the rain was still pouring down, and the dance floor was outside. So we decided to head off and get some food and hope that the rain would let up. It did, and we returned, but none of us were really all that keen to stay. So we decided to have one drink and hit the dance floor and then head off. I was dancing away when a familiar face walked past - one of the guys who had been marching with us, and was friends with the girl I had pashed! At first I just smiled at him, but then the logical part of my brain gave me a thunk and I asked him if he could either give me this girl's number or give her mine. He gave me her's and I promptly sent her a text. We weren't able to meet up again whilst I was in Sydney, but she has plans to come down to Melbourne, and I have a date! You see? Pashing a unicorn is good luck!!
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Queer Aesthetics
You know when you're trying to write about one thing, but you've got something else boiling under your skin? Yeah, that's what's happening with me at the moment. I'm trying to finish my final data chapter (!!!) but there's something else that is on my mind: aesthetics - and particularly lesbian/queer aesthetics.
This has been something I've been pondering for awhile, especially over the last six months, as I've come to the end of (or rather a pause in) a massive physical transformation and have been quite actively exploring what it means for me to be single and gay, and where I situate myself within the queer community.
To contextualise this: I only realised I was gay about 2 years ago, after breaking up with my first girlfriend. Since then, I have lost around 30kg. This was the result of a very intensive campaign to get fit and improve my health; it was never about being thin (something I have no desire to be). I have talked about my weight loss a lot on this blog, and I don't want to get into it again here. All that needs to be said about it here is that I reached a point where I was happy with my body, sick of spending all my time exercising, and annoyed that my clothes never fit me for more than a couple of months (that's all well and good when you can afford to buy new ones; I can't!); so my body transformation project has been put on the back burner for the time being. Over the past, erm, 8 months I've also been figuring out - for the first time - what it means to me to be gay and single. When I first came out I felt like my sexuality was contingent upon my relationship status. It wasn't until Lady Cop and I broke up (for the final time) that I started to explore life as a single lesbian; in a nutshell it's AWESOME!
When I first started dating women, I was quite insecure with myself, particularly about my appearance. Coming from heteroland, I felt that I did not have enough beauty capital to attract the kind of man I was attracted to, and I did not know if those same beauty dynamics would transfer over into the lesbian community. How would other women engage with my body, and how would I engage with their bodies? It has been completely fascinating for me to observe and experience a variety of queer aesthetics. Heteronormative beauty standards do not hold the same influence within the queer community - though they are not completely absent either - and while I have found that incredibly liberating, I have also discovered that queer aesthetics can be quite difficult to navigate.
For me, aesthetics are extremely important. They are important because they are about how I represent myself to others, and about how I interpret others. I think it's also really important to differentiate between aesthetics and looks/attractiveness, because while they are related, they are not the same things. I understand looks/attractiveness to be about how one measures up to some external standard of beauty. Looks/attractiveness is often quite a disempowering framework because it is quite narrowly defined, is always about comparison and conformity, and its standards are nearly impossible for most people to obtain. I understand aesthetics to be about how one expresses one's individuality. I would say that it involves developing a stylized version of one's self, though technically such a stylization could involve completely disengaging from the dictates of the fashion and beauty industries.
The reason I believe aesthetics are so important is because of their link to desire. And this is precisely why I find myself so fascinated by queer aesthetics; because they signal queer desire - often in complex and messy ways. Our aesthetic practices (generally) signal something about our personality to others: wearing gym clothes tells people you are interested in fitness; wearing a suit is a sign of power; high heels are a sign of femininity; and asymmetrical haircuts are, apparently, a sign of living in Melbourne's inner north. Queer aesthetics complicates this, because queer culture is about challenging binaries and finding new ways of being. Queer culture is further challenged by the fact that not everyone in the gay community is queer. This has meant, for me, that sometimes I am misread.
I suppose that being misread is part of the parcel of being queer; not everyone is going to get it and that is, after all, the point. Why I struggle with being misread is because I misread myself for so much of my life. Being heterosexual was an identity that never sat comfortably with me and ultimately made me very unhappy; I am eager to distance myself from it in as many ways as I can. I spent far too long passing for a heterosexual; I want my body to signal to myself - as much as to anyone else - that that is not who or what I am.
Since coming out, I have sought to make myself visibly 'queer'. Many of you are familiar with my quest to achieve appropriately 'lesbian' hair: in an effort to make my gayness immediately obvious, I have shaved off most of my hair. My hair certainly signals to the right people that I am gay, and as I joked before, that I live in the inner north. I have this desire to achieve an aesthetic that is unmistakeably queer; an aesthetic that is not linked to clothing, but is of my body. Tattoos are good for this, though even the visible and aggressive ones have been appropriated by certain heterosexual aesthetics. At the moment I am experimenting with being a hairy lesbian, since body hair seems to be something straight women shy away from. The problem there is that I am ridiculously blonde, so even after months of growth my body hair is not immediately visible.
The reason that I, at times, am misread within the gay community is because there is a disconnect between what my aesthetic says about me, and how I actually am. You see, I like to wear dresses. I always have, and I reckon I always will. But I am not now, nor have I ever been, a 'girly girl'. If I had to sum myself up in four words, I'd probably go with: wears dresses, throws punches. The picture of me at my 4th birthday that I have on this blog I think demonstrates this divide nicely. Because of this, people often tell me that I should go for the rockabilly look. And while it's true that this style suits me remarkably well - it is a style that celebrates the hourglass figure - there are three reasons why I am not taking on a full time rockabilly aesthetic:
Queer aesthetics are about pushing the boundaries of existing ways of being, and opening up space to become something new. Doing so involves inhabiting spaces where, as Cressida Heyes described it, one is - to some extent - unintelligible to others. I have not quite worked out how to signal my desires through my aesthetic: I am a masculine woman with feminine aesthetics who desires masculine women with masculine aesthetics. But this is part of the fun of being single: I get to experiment with my aesthetics and see who responds and how.
And while it would be nice to have my self and my desires read correctly through my aesthetics, I find that having conversations with people tends to clear up any misinterpretations that may occur (if only everyone was as open to having such conversations as I am)! Besides, even if there was some aesthetic that did signal exactly who I am and what I want, desire is much too fluid to stay in any one place forever so any successfully occupied aesthetic is always going to be temporary anyways. Thank goodness I am finally happy just being me!
This has been something I've been pondering for awhile, especially over the last six months, as I've come to the end of (or rather a pause in) a massive physical transformation and have been quite actively exploring what it means for me to be single and gay, and where I situate myself within the queer community.
To contextualise this: I only realised I was gay about 2 years ago, after breaking up with my first girlfriend. Since then, I have lost around 30kg. This was the result of a very intensive campaign to get fit and improve my health; it was never about being thin (something I have no desire to be). I have talked about my weight loss a lot on this blog, and I don't want to get into it again here. All that needs to be said about it here is that I reached a point where I was happy with my body, sick of spending all my time exercising, and annoyed that my clothes never fit me for more than a couple of months (that's all well and good when you can afford to buy new ones; I can't!); so my body transformation project has been put on the back burner for the time being. Over the past, erm, 8 months I've also been figuring out - for the first time - what it means to me to be gay and single. When I first came out I felt like my sexuality was contingent upon my relationship status. It wasn't until Lady Cop and I broke up (for the final time) that I started to explore life as a single lesbian; in a nutshell it's AWESOME!
When I first started dating women, I was quite insecure with myself, particularly about my appearance. Coming from heteroland, I felt that I did not have enough beauty capital to attract the kind of man I was attracted to, and I did not know if those same beauty dynamics would transfer over into the lesbian community. How would other women engage with my body, and how would I engage with their bodies? It has been completely fascinating for me to observe and experience a variety of queer aesthetics. Heteronormative beauty standards do not hold the same influence within the queer community - though they are not completely absent either - and while I have found that incredibly liberating, I have also discovered that queer aesthetics can be quite difficult to navigate.
For me, aesthetics are extremely important. They are important because they are about how I represent myself to others, and about how I interpret others. I think it's also really important to differentiate between aesthetics and looks/attractiveness, because while they are related, they are not the same things. I understand looks/attractiveness to be about how one measures up to some external standard of beauty. Looks/attractiveness is often quite a disempowering framework because it is quite narrowly defined, is always about comparison and conformity, and its standards are nearly impossible for most people to obtain. I understand aesthetics to be about how one expresses one's individuality. I would say that it involves developing a stylized version of one's self, though technically such a stylization could involve completely disengaging from the dictates of the fashion and beauty industries.
The reason I believe aesthetics are so important is because of their link to desire. And this is precisely why I find myself so fascinated by queer aesthetics; because they signal queer desire - often in complex and messy ways. Our aesthetic practices (generally) signal something about our personality to others: wearing gym clothes tells people you are interested in fitness; wearing a suit is a sign of power; high heels are a sign of femininity; and asymmetrical haircuts are, apparently, a sign of living in Melbourne's inner north. Queer aesthetics complicates this, because queer culture is about challenging binaries and finding new ways of being. Queer culture is further challenged by the fact that not everyone in the gay community is queer. This has meant, for me, that sometimes I am misread.
I suppose that being misread is part of the parcel of being queer; not everyone is going to get it and that is, after all, the point. Why I struggle with being misread is because I misread myself for so much of my life. Being heterosexual was an identity that never sat comfortably with me and ultimately made me very unhappy; I am eager to distance myself from it in as many ways as I can. I spent far too long passing for a heterosexual; I want my body to signal to myself - as much as to anyone else - that that is not who or what I am.
Since coming out, I have sought to make myself visibly 'queer'. Many of you are familiar with my quest to achieve appropriately 'lesbian' hair: in an effort to make my gayness immediately obvious, I have shaved off most of my hair. My hair certainly signals to the right people that I am gay, and as I joked before, that I live in the inner north. I have this desire to achieve an aesthetic that is unmistakeably queer; an aesthetic that is not linked to clothing, but is of my body. Tattoos are good for this, though even the visible and aggressive ones have been appropriated by certain heterosexual aesthetics. At the moment I am experimenting with being a hairy lesbian, since body hair seems to be something straight women shy away from. The problem there is that I am ridiculously blonde, so even after months of growth my body hair is not immediately visible.
The reason that I, at times, am misread within the gay community is because there is a disconnect between what my aesthetic says about me, and how I actually am. You see, I like to wear dresses. I always have, and I reckon I always will. But I am not now, nor have I ever been, a 'girly girl'. If I had to sum myself up in four words, I'd probably go with: wears dresses, throws punches. The picture of me at my 4th birthday that I have on this blog I think demonstrates this divide nicely. Because of this, people often tell me that I should go for the rockabilly look. And while it's true that this style suits me remarkably well - it is a style that celebrates the hourglass figure - there are three reasons why I am not taking on a full time rockabilly aesthetic:
- I have 'commitment issues'. I do not not want to be boxed in to any one way of being. I would get extremely bored if I only ever expressed myself in one particular way. Besides, my personality is far too all over the place to be contained by any one aesthetic.
- The best thing about being poor has been that it's forced me to breakup with consumerism. I am a recovering shopaholic. I have found it so liberating to not be concerned about wearing the flashest clothes, and have found it incredibly empowering to experiment with fashion I can afford. As it turns out, if you wear your clothes well, it really doesn't matter that they came from Kmart and Savers.
- While I enjoy the rockabilly aesthetic, I feel no particular connection to rockabilly culture. Largely because, from the outside looking in, rockabilly feels quite heteronormative to me. I know that there is a huge queer engagement with rockabilly, but, it strikes me as often reproducing the butch/femme dichotomy, which is something that I personally do not want to engage with. I consider my personality to be quite masculine, and while there is room for that within the rockabilly femme aesthetic, I don't know, it just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe that's unfair. It's based on a personal experience I had with a woman who - I think - expected me to act femme when I dressed femme. Which just made me want to act incredibly butch. Which made her not want to talk to me anymore. There's good reason for why I have a rep at my office for topping from the bottom!! Maybe I just need to come with a disclaimer...
Queer aesthetics are about pushing the boundaries of existing ways of being, and opening up space to become something new. Doing so involves inhabiting spaces where, as Cressida Heyes described it, one is - to some extent - unintelligible to others. I have not quite worked out how to signal my desires through my aesthetic: I am a masculine woman with feminine aesthetics who desires masculine women with masculine aesthetics. But this is part of the fun of being single: I get to experiment with my aesthetics and see who responds and how.
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| body love |
Monday, February 6, 2012
Midsumma Madness!
Well my lovely queers and heteros, another Midsumma has come to an end. And what a girlwind it was! From spending a week in the mountains with 30+ ladies, to hitting the clubs, to checking out the shows, to pashing some girls, to making new friends, to catching up with old friends, to marching with Pride... It's been a busy month!
First of all: drama camp was AWESOME! I had such a great time and met many, many amazing women. I also got to cook some insanely delicious food and be loved and adored for it. While hanging out in the mountains. I felt like I was being spoilt! I even managed to get some quality work done on my thesis, which, as you'll remember, was the whole point of me going on this trip!
Oh, and the best part: I finally got to make use of my valid Victorian driver's licence and drive someone's car!! It seems that leaving out the whole "I've never driven on the left before" thing is key. I didn't have to drive far, and it was on a small mountain road with very little traffic. I'm so used to traffic moving from the left here now that I thought I'd be fine to drive. But I was not prepared for all the signals and gears and stuff to be on opposite sides!! It was way more disorienting than I had anticipated. BUT, I am an entirely competent driver and we made the trip without issue AND I did a fabulous job parking upon our return. I waited a couple of days before informing the owner of said car that she'd inadvertently popped my driving in Australia cherry. ;)
Like most things I do, I had no idea what I had signed on for. Our days started early and ended late. There were three of us on the kitchen crew, and hubby proved to be not only a great cook but an efficient and organised leader. He planned the meals, I just chopped what I was told to chop, stirred what I was told to stir, set out food and plates and cutlery where I was told to set them out, and grilled some sausage when I was told to grill some sausage! (I seriously hope the sausage was not completely disgusting; turns out I still can't stomach the thought of eating beef.) What I did take charge of was the clean up crews. After every meal I supervised the clean up crews as they did all the actual work of scrubbing up all the mess we'd made in the kitchen throughout the day. I had so much fun with the clean up crews that I actually started applying for work as a dishwasher when I returned to Melbourne. (Alas, a career as a dishwasher does not appear to be in the cards for me: instead I'll be doing some data entry at ARCSHS.)
I didn't know what to expect from the girls, not being from a drama background myself. The vocal warm ups freaked me out, at first, but then I got used to them and even missed the chorus of weird squawking and chanting at 9am when camp was over. The singing I did not miss so much. It took me about 4 days to get the songs out of my head!! But otherwise, I was quite delighted to find that they were all friendly and curious about my thesis (although after having the same conversation for the 20th time I may have started to wish they weren't) and good eaters! We made a lot of food and very little went to waste! I ate like a freggin' king! I mean, being on the kitchen crew, we had to make sure everything was fit to be served...and sometimes we had to check more than once, you know, just to be sure.
Girls Do Gertrude was a double bill of Gertrude Stein plays. The idea was to go away to the mountains for a week of intensive rehearsals, then come back and put the plays on. One group rehearsed downstairs in the lodge, and the other rehearsed in the space beside the kitchen. So we got quite familiar with the goings on of that particular play. With the singing, and the circles... *ahem* The second play, however, was a total mystery to me. Except, every now and then we'd hear these blood curdling screams coming from downstairs. Often the screaming came when we were reaching the breaking point of hearing Ain't We Got Fun yet again, so I wasn't entirely sure if they were related to the play or not! ;) It was actually really cool to see the play come together over the course of the week, and to know that there was this whole other play happening that I'd get to be surprised by when it was all finished.
I went to see the show last weekend, though in a funny twist of events I actually ended up at Northcote Town Hall with a couple of friends to check out another Midsumma event earlier in the week, and ran into the girls after their show. That was quite fun! Anyways, I went to see the show on Saturday and I of course had to get dressed up for it! 1920s style! I just so happened to have the perfect outfit lying around for the occasion. I even broke out the iron for it!
From what I'd seen in the rehearsal week I figured the plays were going to be good, but honestly, they were so much better than I expected! The first one, A Circular Play, was really witty and fun - and the costumes were incredible! I don't really know how to describe it, other than that it gave me a whole new appreciation for the art of acting. And directing! And the difficulty in learning the words to a song! The second play, Three Sisters Who Are Not Sisters, was amazing! It was a play repeated three times, each time a bit differently, and each time I got something different from it. It had this incredibly fun opening part where the girls were all being little kids playing and their play turns violent. It was dark and twisted, and yes, the screaming was part of the play. I have a new found appreciation for theatre after that week!
There is much more that I could update on, but I don't want to sit at my computer forever. So to do a quick summary: I have reached exciting new depths of poverty. It's been an interesting experience to have so little money to see me through the month. I've agreed to let hubby cut my hair for free, which he did last week...with his beard clippers and some kinda dull scissors. He actually did a rather amazing job, and may possibly be able to turn a small profit on offering niche market lesbian haircuts. I'm also on this exciting new diet called eating what other people give me for free! It is supplemented by another diet called eating food I can get for cheap. The health nut in my cringes at this, but the social scientist in me sees this as an interesting new experiment and is excited to see where it leads. Meanwhile, the student in me says as long as there is money for coffee and beer, I've got nothing to worry about.
I started my classes with the Women's Circus last week. That is quickly shaping up to be the most fun I have ever had, and possibly will ever have, in my life! My trainers are fantabulous, the women in my class are awesome, AND I get to learn cool tricks that involve me looking like I'm ridiculously strong. My guns aren't too shabby, but I'm not quite at llama status yet!
Now that Midsumma is over, I'm under official lock down to get my thesis over and done with! I've only got six more months to go, and a mountain to climb in that time. It can be done, but it ain't gonna be easy! I just have to keep reminding myself that the sooner I get my first draft completed, the sooner I can get the tattoo I've been planning for the past two years! I may barely be able to afford groceries, rent, or electricity, but I'm saving up my pennies for that next tattoo. There's no fucking way I'm completing that draft only to find out I don't actually have the money to afford the ink!!!
Until next time...wish me adventures!
First of all: drama camp was AWESOME! I had such a great time and met many, many amazing women. I also got to cook some insanely delicious food and be loved and adored for it. While hanging out in the mountains. I felt like I was being spoilt! I even managed to get some quality work done on my thesis, which, as you'll remember, was the whole point of me going on this trip!
Oh, and the best part: I finally got to make use of my valid Victorian driver's licence and drive someone's car!! It seems that leaving out the whole "I've never driven on the left before" thing is key. I didn't have to drive far, and it was on a small mountain road with very little traffic. I'm so used to traffic moving from the left here now that I thought I'd be fine to drive. But I was not prepared for all the signals and gears and stuff to be on opposite sides!! It was way more disorienting than I had anticipated. BUT, I am an entirely competent driver and we made the trip without issue AND I did a fabulous job parking upon our return. I waited a couple of days before informing the owner of said car that she'd inadvertently popped my driving in Australia cherry. ;)
Like most things I do, I had no idea what I had signed on for. Our days started early and ended late. There were three of us on the kitchen crew, and hubby proved to be not only a great cook but an efficient and organised leader. He planned the meals, I just chopped what I was told to chop, stirred what I was told to stir, set out food and plates and cutlery where I was told to set them out, and grilled some sausage when I was told to grill some sausage! (I seriously hope the sausage was not completely disgusting; turns out I still can't stomach the thought of eating beef.) What I did take charge of was the clean up crews. After every meal I supervised the clean up crews as they did all the actual work of scrubbing up all the mess we'd made in the kitchen throughout the day. I had so much fun with the clean up crews that I actually started applying for work as a dishwasher when I returned to Melbourne. (Alas, a career as a dishwasher does not appear to be in the cards for me: instead I'll be doing some data entry at ARCSHS.)
I didn't know what to expect from the girls, not being from a drama background myself. The vocal warm ups freaked me out, at first, but then I got used to them and even missed the chorus of weird squawking and chanting at 9am when camp was over. The singing I did not miss so much. It took me about 4 days to get the songs out of my head!! But otherwise, I was quite delighted to find that they were all friendly and curious about my thesis (although after having the same conversation for the 20th time I may have started to wish they weren't) and good eaters! We made a lot of food and very little went to waste! I ate like a freggin' king! I mean, being on the kitchen crew, we had to make sure everything was fit to be served...and sometimes we had to check more than once, you know, just to be sure.
Girls Do Gertrude was a double bill of Gertrude Stein plays. The idea was to go away to the mountains for a week of intensive rehearsals, then come back and put the plays on. One group rehearsed downstairs in the lodge, and the other rehearsed in the space beside the kitchen. So we got quite familiar with the goings on of that particular play. With the singing, and the circles... *ahem* The second play, however, was a total mystery to me. Except, every now and then we'd hear these blood curdling screams coming from downstairs. Often the screaming came when we were reaching the breaking point of hearing Ain't We Got Fun yet again, so I wasn't entirely sure if they were related to the play or not! ;) It was actually really cool to see the play come together over the course of the week, and to know that there was this whole other play happening that I'd get to be surprised by when it was all finished.
I went to see the show last weekend, though in a funny twist of events I actually ended up at Northcote Town Hall with a couple of friends to check out another Midsumma event earlier in the week, and ran into the girls after their show. That was quite fun! Anyways, I went to see the show on Saturday and I of course had to get dressed up for it! 1920s style! I just so happened to have the perfect outfit lying around for the occasion. I even broke out the iron for it!
From what I'd seen in the rehearsal week I figured the plays were going to be good, but honestly, they were so much better than I expected! The first one, A Circular Play, was really witty and fun - and the costumes were incredible! I don't really know how to describe it, other than that it gave me a whole new appreciation for the art of acting. And directing! And the difficulty in learning the words to a song! The second play, Three Sisters Who Are Not Sisters, was amazing! It was a play repeated three times, each time a bit differently, and each time I got something different from it. It had this incredibly fun opening part where the girls were all being little kids playing and their play turns violent. It was dark and twisted, and yes, the screaming was part of the play. I have a new found appreciation for theatre after that week!
There is much more that I could update on, but I don't want to sit at my computer forever. So to do a quick summary: I have reached exciting new depths of poverty. It's been an interesting experience to have so little money to see me through the month. I've agreed to let hubby cut my hair for free, which he did last week...with his beard clippers and some kinda dull scissors. He actually did a rather amazing job, and may possibly be able to turn a small profit on offering niche market lesbian haircuts. I'm also on this exciting new diet called eating what other people give me for free! It is supplemented by another diet called eating food I can get for cheap. The health nut in my cringes at this, but the social scientist in me sees this as an interesting new experiment and is excited to see where it leads. Meanwhile, the student in me says as long as there is money for coffee and beer, I've got nothing to worry about.
I started my classes with the Women's Circus last week. That is quickly shaping up to be the most fun I have ever had, and possibly will ever have, in my life! My trainers are fantabulous, the women in my class are awesome, AND I get to learn cool tricks that involve me looking like I'm ridiculously strong. My guns aren't too shabby, but I'm not quite at llama status yet!
Now that Midsumma is over, I'm under official lock down to get my thesis over and done with! I've only got six more months to go, and a mountain to climb in that time. It can be done, but it ain't gonna be easy! I just have to keep reminding myself that the sooner I get my first draft completed, the sooner I can get the tattoo I've been planning for the past two years! I may barely be able to afford groceries, rent, or electricity, but I'm saving up my pennies for that next tattoo. There's no fucking way I'm completing that draft only to find out I don't actually have the money to afford the ink!!!
Until next time...wish me adventures!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
You Know You're A Grad Student When...
Last night I had condiments for dinner.
Condiments.
I shit you not.
It wasn't even intentional, it just...happened. And I didn't even realize I was doing it until I broke into some of the more obscure condiments in my cupboard.
Yes, money is tight right now, but it's not that tight. Well, OK, it is. You see, I am not completely out but coming close to being out of groceries and as I'm about to go away to drama camp (I'll get to that) for a week, I'd like to avoid grocery shopping if I can! Last night I was down to the weird odds and ends, and I decided not to break into the nicer stuff because I had chicken in the freezer I could defrost and cook another day. All that left me with was some moldy bread that was getting to the point where I couldn't just keep cutting the moldy bits off, and tortillas. And condiments.
It started off innocently enough. I decided to throw out the moldy bread and make myself a couple of peanut butter and banana tortilla wraps. After which, I was still peckish and only had a couple of tortillas left. Surely I had something I could spread over them? I poked around my cupboard and what did I come up with? Sweet and sour sauce. It wasn't until I plopped the sweet and sour sauce onto the tortilla that the absurdity of what I was doing struck me. And no, it was not delicious. It was weird. And messy. I got sweet and sour sauce on my shirt. After that debacle I figured I must have something better in the fridge. And you know what I had a shitload of in there? Cream cheese. Yeah. I had a tortilla with sweet and sour sauce for dinner last night when I had a perfectly good container of cream cheese sitting in my fridge.
And that, my friends, is what's called thesis brain.
So, drama camp! You know how I've taken to saying yes to all sorts of random things? This would be one of those things. Clearly. Because me and the performing arts...yeah, no. You know what else is a big yeah, no for me? Food services. So guess what I'm doing on drama camp? Oh yeah!
This all came about because of Hubby. I knew about the performing arts stuff, but apparently he's got this whole food services history too. One of his friends is directing a play for Midsumma (Girls Do Gertrude, check it out) and he has been "recruited" to be the chef for their rehearsal week out in the mountains. Now, there's this weird dynamic to my relationship with Hubby where I pretty much do whatever he says. I don't understand it, but there you go. He says run a 10k, I run a 10k. He says come out clubbing, I go out clubbing. He says come out to the mountains and help me cater a drama camp, I go out to the mountains and help him cater a drama camp. It seems the only thing I've said no to was his marriage proposal. Funny side note, that makes him the only man who's marriage proposal I've actually turned down!
So after Carnival on Sunday I'll be off in the mountains with a bunch of performing arts peeps, cooking and possibly doing various other odds and ends jobs. It was suggested that if I play a musical instrument I could be in the show, but I don't think it's the kind of show where they're taking the piss out of themselves so I think my particular musical talents will go unused this time around. I am, however, open to being the Twitter bitch, and will hopefully knock out a few interesting blog entries while I'm there. Oh yeah, and like, write my third data chapter. I do remember this originally being sold to me as a free study vacation...
Condiments.
I shit you not.
It wasn't even intentional, it just...happened. And I didn't even realize I was doing it until I broke into some of the more obscure condiments in my cupboard.
Yes, money is tight right now, but it's not that tight. Well, OK, it is. You see, I am not completely out but coming close to being out of groceries and as I'm about to go away to drama camp (I'll get to that) for a week, I'd like to avoid grocery shopping if I can! Last night I was down to the weird odds and ends, and I decided not to break into the nicer stuff because I had chicken in the freezer I could defrost and cook another day. All that left me with was some moldy bread that was getting to the point where I couldn't just keep cutting the moldy bits off, and tortillas. And condiments.
It started off innocently enough. I decided to throw out the moldy bread and make myself a couple of peanut butter and banana tortilla wraps. After which, I was still peckish and only had a couple of tortillas left. Surely I had something I could spread over them? I poked around my cupboard and what did I come up with? Sweet and sour sauce. It wasn't until I plopped the sweet and sour sauce onto the tortilla that the absurdity of what I was doing struck me. And no, it was not delicious. It was weird. And messy. I got sweet and sour sauce on my shirt. After that debacle I figured I must have something better in the fridge. And you know what I had a shitload of in there? Cream cheese. Yeah. I had a tortilla with sweet and sour sauce for dinner last night when I had a perfectly good container of cream cheese sitting in my fridge.
And that, my friends, is what's called thesis brain.
So, drama camp! You know how I've taken to saying yes to all sorts of random things? This would be one of those things. Clearly. Because me and the performing arts...yeah, no. You know what else is a big yeah, no for me? Food services. So guess what I'm doing on drama camp? Oh yeah!
This all came about because of Hubby. I knew about the performing arts stuff, but apparently he's got this whole food services history too. One of his friends is directing a play for Midsumma (Girls Do Gertrude, check it out) and he has been "recruited" to be the chef for their rehearsal week out in the mountains. Now, there's this weird dynamic to my relationship with Hubby where I pretty much do whatever he says. I don't understand it, but there you go. He says run a 10k, I run a 10k. He says come out clubbing, I go out clubbing. He says come out to the mountains and help me cater a drama camp, I go out to the mountains and help him cater a drama camp. It seems the only thing I've said no to was his marriage proposal. Funny side note, that makes him the only man who's marriage proposal I've actually turned down!
So after Carnival on Sunday I'll be off in the mountains with a bunch of performing arts peeps, cooking and possibly doing various other odds and ends jobs. It was suggested that if I play a musical instrument I could be in the show, but I don't think it's the kind of show where they're taking the piss out of themselves so I think my particular musical talents will go unused this time around. I am, however, open to being the Twitter bitch, and will hopefully knock out a few interesting blog entries while I'm there. Oh yeah, and like, write my third data chapter. I do remember this originally being sold to me as a free study vacation...
Sunday, January 1, 2012
The Kissing Year
And just like that, 2011 comes to an end. I didn't see the beauty in this last night, but I wore the same dress this NYE as the one I wore to that little karaoke bar in Kona last year. I ended the year in the same outfit that I started the year in. Only this time I didn't pour beer down my front.
2011 was - from start to finish - one of the best years of my life. There were bad parts to it, but the hard stuff is what makes us stronger, and I learned and grew from my experiences. I've found myself feeling a bit sad as this year has come to a close. As if the year ending means all the awesomeness 2011 brought me will end too. It's a silly attitude - and I'll get to that - but as the clock got closer and closer to midnight, I found myself feeling more and more closed off.
When midnight struck I was sitting on the deck at a friend's place, surrounded by a small group of women - some of whom I'd just met, others that I know very well. We lit sparklers and laughed. And I decided to stop being silly and start enjoying myself.
You know why 2011 was such an incredible year for me? Because as I rung it in, I made up my mind that I was going to make it an incredible year. It was a resolution in the truest sense: it was a mission statement. No matter how crap I was feeling, I kept on living my life. I kept doing things to make my life - in some way - better. The awesomeness of 2011 wasn't some magic cast upon me by that bar in Kona or the electromagnetic fields of mantra rays; I made it happen for myself. There's no reason I can't do the same for 2012.
2011 was a lot of things for me, but more than anything else, it was the year of friendship. Not only did I meet a lot of incredible new people who I consider to be absolute blessings in my life, but I've developed some truly wonderful friendships with people who were already in my life. I am in absolute awe over how amazing the people in my life are. The bar has been raised! I no longer allow shitty people into my life, and I encourage others to do the same (even if that means kicking me out of your life - which I know for at least one person it has).
I've had a lot of down time over the holidays - my family being far away and all my friends pretty much being busy with family of their own. So I've had a lot of time to think and reflect on my life and what I want from it. I got a good thing going for myself over 2011, and I'm eager for that to continue. But there's always ways to improve upon something, so how can I take things up a notch in 2012? The answer came to me as I exchanged New Years texts with one of my awesome friends: 2012 is the kissing year! Tell your friends!
Several people in my life have said "Nah, 2012 is the year of writing." But - and I'm sorry - that is stupid! All the people who said that are writers. You can't declare a year the year of your job! Even if your job is something that involves some degree of starving artistry. Just, no! You can still work on your writing and have all those achievements while enjoying some sweet kissin' action. And honestly, who on earth would say no to kissing for the sake of writing? Priorities, people, please!
I absolutely love kissing. It's the best thing about a new romance. The saddest thing to me is when a relationship reaches that point where the kissing just kinda stops. Why do we always stop when it's the nicest part? It's ridiculous! So I guess that is my resolution for 2012: to not stop kissing!
As Coach and I made our way to Thornbury to start our respective evenings at a friend's BBQ, I explained to her about how 2012 is the kissing year. She was less than enthusiastic about this - having just gone through a breakup (side note: if ever there was a reason to get your kiss on, that is it! That is actually a major finding from my research, so, doctor's orders!) - but I wasn't letting up on the idea so she proposed that I needed some ground rules:
It's an interesting challenge. There are some kissing related circumstances that are preventing me from committing to going forward with this challenge at this time (I did not kiss anyone at midnight, so as of yet the kissing year is entirely theoretical), but should I go forward with Coach's particular set of rules, I have some game plans for how to get to 52 in a year.
Have I told you the story of the first time I kissed a girl? I was 21 and out with a totally awesome friend at a monthly 'fetish' night at the local gay club. Actually, the very first time I kissed a girl I was 13, but that's the story of how I came to be a heterosexual - so a story for another time! Anyways, I was at this club with my friend and this girl comes up to us and says: "I'm trying to see how many girls I can get to kiss me tonight. Would you like to help me out?" My friend agrees, they make out for a bit, and then my friend writes her name on this girl's arm so she can keep tabs. And then it was my turn...
So I'd spent the last 8 years actively repressing my homosexuality, and along comes some random girl who offers me a totally innocent, no strings, opportunity to do something I was secretly dying to do. To say I was excited is an understatement! Well, Katy Perry, I kissed that girl and I liked it! A lot. Better than any kiss I'd ever had before. I had absolutely zero interest in stopping kissing her, though when I realized that I freaked myself out and did stop. I have no idea who that girl was, but I am eternally grateful to her and whoever was behind her kissing challenge. Thank you for showing me how awesome and totally OK it is to kiss girls!
I wonder how close to 52 that strategy would get me? Especially if I was to do it while I'm in Sydney for Mardi Gras...
2011 was - from start to finish - one of the best years of my life. There were bad parts to it, but the hard stuff is what makes us stronger, and I learned and grew from my experiences. I've found myself feeling a bit sad as this year has come to a close. As if the year ending means all the awesomeness 2011 brought me will end too. It's a silly attitude - and I'll get to that - but as the clock got closer and closer to midnight, I found myself feeling more and more closed off.
When midnight struck I was sitting on the deck at a friend's place, surrounded by a small group of women - some of whom I'd just met, others that I know very well. We lit sparklers and laughed. And I decided to stop being silly and start enjoying myself.
You know why 2011 was such an incredible year for me? Because as I rung it in, I made up my mind that I was going to make it an incredible year. It was a resolution in the truest sense: it was a mission statement. No matter how crap I was feeling, I kept on living my life. I kept doing things to make my life - in some way - better. The awesomeness of 2011 wasn't some magic cast upon me by that bar in Kona or the electromagnetic fields of mantra rays; I made it happen for myself. There's no reason I can't do the same for 2012.
2011 was a lot of things for me, but more than anything else, it was the year of friendship. Not only did I meet a lot of incredible new people who I consider to be absolute blessings in my life, but I've developed some truly wonderful friendships with people who were already in my life. I am in absolute awe over how amazing the people in my life are. The bar has been raised! I no longer allow shitty people into my life, and I encourage others to do the same (even if that means kicking me out of your life - which I know for at least one person it has).
I've had a lot of down time over the holidays - my family being far away and all my friends pretty much being busy with family of their own. So I've had a lot of time to think and reflect on my life and what I want from it. I got a good thing going for myself over 2011, and I'm eager for that to continue. But there's always ways to improve upon something, so how can I take things up a notch in 2012? The answer came to me as I exchanged New Years texts with one of my awesome friends: 2012 is the kissing year! Tell your friends!
Several people in my life have said "Nah, 2012 is the year of writing." But - and I'm sorry - that is stupid! All the people who said that are writers. You can't declare a year the year of your job! Even if your job is something that involves some degree of starving artistry. Just, no! You can still work on your writing and have all those achievements while enjoying some sweet kissin' action. And honestly, who on earth would say no to kissing for the sake of writing? Priorities, people, please!
I absolutely love kissing. It's the best thing about a new romance. The saddest thing to me is when a relationship reaches that point where the kissing just kinda stops. Why do we always stop when it's the nicest part? It's ridiculous! So I guess that is my resolution for 2012: to not stop kissing!
As Coach and I made our way to Thornbury to start our respective evenings at a friend's BBQ, I explained to her about how 2012 is the kissing year. She was less than enthusiastic about this - having just gone through a breakup (side note: if ever there was a reason to get your kiss on, that is it! That is actually a major finding from my research, so, doctor's orders!) - but I wasn't letting up on the idea so she proposed that I needed some ground rules:
- Ladies Only, Gentlemen Forbidden.
- It doesn't have to involve tongue, but it does have to be a proper kiss. A quick peck on the lips is not a proper kiss.
- If it's a year of kissing I'm after, I've got to kiss 52 women; one for each week.
It's an interesting challenge. There are some kissing related circumstances that are preventing me from committing to going forward with this challenge at this time (I did not kiss anyone at midnight, so as of yet the kissing year is entirely theoretical), but should I go forward with Coach's particular set of rules, I have some game plans for how to get to 52 in a year.
Have I told you the story of the first time I kissed a girl? I was 21 and out with a totally awesome friend at a monthly 'fetish' night at the local gay club. Actually, the very first time I kissed a girl I was 13, but that's the story of how I came to be a heterosexual - so a story for another time! Anyways, I was at this club with my friend and this girl comes up to us and says: "I'm trying to see how many girls I can get to kiss me tonight. Would you like to help me out?" My friend agrees, they make out for a bit, and then my friend writes her name on this girl's arm so she can keep tabs. And then it was my turn...
So I'd spent the last 8 years actively repressing my homosexuality, and along comes some random girl who offers me a totally innocent, no strings, opportunity to do something I was secretly dying to do. To say I was excited is an understatement! Well, Katy Perry, I kissed that girl and I liked it! A lot. Better than any kiss I'd ever had before. I had absolutely zero interest in stopping kissing her, though when I realized that I freaked myself out and did stop. I have no idea who that girl was, but I am eternally grateful to her and whoever was behind her kissing challenge. Thank you for showing me how awesome and totally OK it is to kiss girls!
I wonder how close to 52 that strategy would get me? Especially if I was to do it while I'm in Sydney for Mardi Gras...
 |
| Pucker up ladies! |
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Christmas KABOOM!
Merry Christmas everyone!!!
Much to my surprise, this is actually my fourth Christmas in Melbourne. I'm always surprised at how long I've been living here now. I remember when I first got here, the new Royal Children's Hospital was just starting to be built and was set to open in 2011. I thought that opening day was a lifetime away, but the Queen was just here the other month to officially open it's doors.
I also remember when I first moved here being told what I believed to be a tall story about how one year it snowed in Melbourne on Christmas Day. Yeah, right! It doesn't snow here in winter; there's no way it would snow in summer! Perhaps not, but if you look at some of the pictures of Melbourne this afternoon you wouldn't know it! Apparently someone decided to take one of the polar ice caps and just chuck it down on Melbourne. That's certainly what it sounded like in my apartment earlier anyways! There were some pretty big chunks coming down; unfortunately, as I live in a concrete jungle most of those big chunks broke up into smaller chunks as they hit the ground, so my pictures don't do the storm justice.
Much to my surprise, this is actually my fourth Christmas in Melbourne. I'm always surprised at how long I've been living here now. I remember when I first got here, the new Royal Children's Hospital was just starting to be built and was set to open in 2011. I thought that opening day was a lifetime away, but the Queen was just here the other month to officially open it's doors.
I also remember when I first moved here being told what I believed to be a tall story about how one year it snowed in Melbourne on Christmas Day. Yeah, right! It doesn't snow here in winter; there's no way it would snow in summer! Perhaps not, but if you look at some of the pictures of Melbourne this afternoon you wouldn't know it! Apparently someone decided to take one of the polar ice caps and just chuck it down on Melbourne. That's certainly what it sounded like in my apartment earlier anyways! There were some pretty big chunks coming down; unfortunately, as I live in a concrete jungle most of those big chunks broke up into smaller chunks as they hit the ground, so my pictures don't do the storm justice.
I've managed to do pretty well over the past four years, developing a community and a family away from my family. But this was the first year that I found myself without Christmas plans. Well, 'found myself' is a bit deceiving - it was a bit more deliberate than that.
My first Christmas here I was invited to spend the day with the family of a woman from my uni, who is now one of my thesis supervisors. It was a really nice Christmas, and I ended up staying overnight and for a good part of Boxing Day too! My second Christmas I made plans to have an 'orphan's Christmas' with a friend who was not able make it up to Sydney to see her family. We had a picnic lunch in Carlton Gardens and it ended up just being a really lovely afternoon. My third Christmas here my original plans *ahem* fell through, but I was taken in by my first flatmate - who is something of a big sister to me (though a very absentee one at the moment, for she seems to have disappeared off the earth). That Christmas ended up being really enjoyable and relaxing; though it helped that the next morning I was boarding a plane to Hawaii.
This year I thought I'd just see what the various people in my life were up to and just let whatever happened happen. And what happened is that most people I know here weren't orphaned for Christmas this year. Now, I'm sure that if I'd really wanted to I could have gotten myself invited over for someone's Christmas lunch. But I didn't want to. I wish I could be spending Christmas with my family this year, but that's just not possible - and spending it with someone else's family really just isn't all that appealing. When I realized I was facing Christmas alone - unless I started making the rounds with my best puppy dog eyes - I instead decided to embrace having the day to myself. And I'm glad that I did!
While I absolutely love Christmas in summer, it has a habit of sneaking up on me without me really realising. Especially since my family is so far away, so I don't have any of that prep work and planning to deal with. I put up some decorations around the apartment last week, and yesterday I broke out the Christmas music and baked a mountain of ginger snap cookies.
It was hot with humidity yesterday, and me having the oven on in our tiny apartment all afternoon was not exactly making either of us more comfortable. But, I had the tunes blaring and was singing and dancing along like, well, someone on a crazy sugar high, so I didn't mind the heat. I don't really know what the point of me making all these cookies was, given that nobody's really around to share them with. I made Coach take a bag of them with her this morning, but I've still got a mountain of them! A delicious, sugary, mountain...
Christmas is a time for watching movies, so once the cookies were finished Coach and I sat down and watched In America, which is not a Christmas movie, but has that same sentiment and is much more beautiful than probably any Christmas movie I've ever seen (though I've never see It's a Beautiful Life or whatever it's called).
Now, I have this Christmas tradition where I do not sleep at all on Christmas Eve. I actually out grew this a good ten years ago, but by that point I'd trained my family to be woken up at some ungodly hour so well that none of them are able to sleep past 6am and I hardly got any sleep anyways. True to form, I had trouble sleeping last night. I woke up a bit before 4am and went online for a bit - my Mom actually emailed me shortly after 4am to ask if I was up yet, which made me laugh. I did manage to fall back asleep though, to the sounds of low, grumbly thunder and dense rain on the tin roof. I didn't get up until 8:30, and was pretty dazed to find Coach already up and about - usually I've got heaps of time to wake up before I interact with anyone!
I made myself a coffee with eggnog in my special Christmas coffee mug (which, yes, I did bring out from Canada with me), waved off Coach and her brother, then got my computer up and called my Mom on Skype. There was some family over when I called, so I talked to all of them for a bit but it was too crazy so Mom said she'd call me back, and I went and got dressed, made breakfast, and put together a massive fruit salad for my picnic that afternoon. I talked to Mom for an hour, then let her go so I could get on with my own adventures before the severe weather warning came into effect.
I packed up my picnic basket, grabbed Greta, and headed off! I didn't really have a destination in mind; I just wanted to ride around and get some more practice while the roads were pretty empty. I decided I'd check out the Upfield bike path, since it kinda scares me and is the closest bike path to me. Turns out it connects with the Capital City Trail I normally ride on, so it's not actually that necessary for me to use it if I'm going south. Since I was on the Capital City Trail, I figured I'd head east and see what lay beyond Nicholson Street - the furthest I'd ever gone on that path. Pretty soon I was riding along the streets of North Fitzroy, which is handy to know. Or will be handy to know when I get comfortable with riding at night!
I got a bit turned around when I found myself at Rundall Station, which lead to me getting some experience with roundabouts! Ah, remember the days when I could only ride in a straight line? So much has changed since then! I made my way onto the Merri Creek bike trail and decided to head north and gradually make my way home. Again, I got confused about where the bike path was, so I went up St. George's Road...further than I needed to! And that's when it started to really rain. So I pulled over into Batman Park (not that Batman) and took refuge under a tree until the rain died down. It seemed as good a place as any for a picnic, and certainly at least the old man hanging out by the toilets drinking seemed to agree. I was going to offer him some of my cookies, but he was keeping a respectful distance and I decided I didn't really want to strick up a conversation with a random old man drinking out of a suitcase in a park on his own on Christmas Day.
The rain didn't last too long, and once it cleared up I made my way westward. I'd used my picnic time to look up a map on my phone and saw that if I continued down the street I was on I'd reconnect with the Merri Creek bike path again, so that's what I did. By this point the sun was out and it was getting nice and hot. Merri Creek is really pretty, so I decided to ride along it just a little bit more than I needed to to get home and take some pictures.
I made my way back home along the roads, which were empty. I even rode through all the intersections this time - though I'm still not sure how confident I'd be to do that with cars driving alongside me. Some people are idiots, and I don't really fancy putting myself at their mercy. I'm all about taking sensible risks. Like, I've realised my life will be a lot easier when I learn to stand up while cycling. So I spent some time this afternoon practicing. I can now stand up while I'm gliding, and it won't be much longer before I'm peddling as well.
Greta and I had a great time riding around the city. We were out for 2 hours, riding for most of it! I am becoming completely addicted to bike riding - figures! Once the crazy storms let up I think I'll figure out the best route into the city so that I can start riding into uni, seeing as that was the whole point of me buying a bike. Though given my adventures today and going to the gym yesterday, I may not be able to move for the next couple of days!! Ah well, not much stops me these days. I wanted to go out again this afternoon, but when I realised the weather warning was serious I changed my mind and watched Fargo for the first time instead (also an appropriate non-Christmas Christmassy movie, it it's way).
I hope you all have a lovely Christmas, and that you get to spend it doing the things that you want to do.
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