Destinations are few and far between in my life.

Hmm...that's not exactly right. It just sounded all romantic.

I have no real destination in mind, no goal to work for, no finish line to race for. Certain winds attract me and I let them take me to beautiful places, but I don't ever think "I need to get to this place, I will find a way to get there." I'm not a particularly motivated person. What's the point when before I arrive anywhere, another cheeky wind lures me off and I'm flying off elsewhere? I'm not a premeditated destinator. . Despite how free this all sounds, flying around like some pervy Mary Poppins by the seat of my umbrella, it actually makes me a person who lets destiny take me places, rather than free will. It feels weird to say that, but it's the truth of what I've just written, despite my fairly free will "people can do anything they want to" beliefs. Hmm, so fantasy girl believes in destiny? No huge surprise there I guess.

But I suppose, whatever the lead-up, I do arrive places and so they are destinations.

Since I have no destination in mind, there is only one thing I can analyse: Where am I right now? What destination have I arrived at? I'm sitting at Richard's apartment taking care of one of the many kitty charges I was given this xmas, still slightly stoned from the night before. I'm anxious about the move I have almost completed, going to live communally for the first time in many years. The curmudgeony cat lady I've become is worried about it, worried about living with roomies and having my alone time taken away from me. I am a day dreamer. I am a bookseller. I am a semi-professional belly dancer. I live in a pretty ugly city that has some very beautiful people in it. I always try to make the best of any social situation. I am not a particularly good friend, but I care and love and can usually make people laugh. I have sadly rebuilt walls I had previously taken down. I still have a surprisingly dark dark-side. I really like breasts. I'm whingy. I'm self-absorbed. I'm a lot more powerful than I ever thought I was. I'm a geek. I'm a wee yin, a roo, a sausage, a spicwop, a little buddha, a tanians, and a pervert who is small only in stature.

But I suppose the biggest destination I have arrived at recently is being part of a family. I have been ensconsed in not one, not two, but three families in this city I have come to call home. I'm not exactly sure where I fit into families as I don't have a lot of experience being in them, but no one seems particularly concerned about that, so I'll just do what I do best and go with it.

And according to my t4, I'm still poor. And I guess, if anything, a girl with no goals in mind who keeps floating away from things as soon as she gets good at them will always be poor. Poverty is my destiny, but I'm finding it's not as bad as I thought it would be.

Where I'm sitting is good right now, but the winds that carried me this year were crueler than usual, winds can be tricksy things sometimes. There were good winds this year, but as Rilo Kiley says "but the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fucking cheap, and it teases me for weeks in its absence" May the stinky winds that carried me in 2006 rot in the farthest corner of hell, never to resurface again. And may the winds of 2007 be at least slightly kinder to me and to all of you out there.

Sunday Scribblings

I used this weekend to recover, from a lot of things. I got some rest and caught up on some stuff and just felt generally more relaxed than I have in a good long while. A really good long while. It didn't feel like a manic phase of my depression, I just felt a little lighter is all. It was nice.

I also managed to get some christmas cooking done. *pause while I wait for at least a few of you to recover from the image of me getting domestic in any way* I made hundreds of rumballs, very tasty rumballs, from the recipe of the bestest ex-mother-in-law in the world who is also one of the best cooks in the world. My fridge has an army of little rumballs all lined up on pans, it's quite cute, I picture them all saluting me whenever I open the fridge.

Had a great weekend of getting naughty pictures taken, and then going all gung ho dressed up to the goth bar. Got hit on by very cute goth jailbait, had a drink bought for me and everything. Nothing happened, just random adorableness.

And as per usual with any downtime, I read a ton of slash. Back onto the Highlander lately as there's a new movie coming out in '07. The whole thing got me thinking about pairings, about crushes and how it seems like there are people who crush on the hero and those who crush on the other guy. I'm to speak solely of the male heroes here as I'm taking about slash specifically, but the same applies for the girls. I crush on the other guy, always have and always will - from childhood crushes on Vinnie Delpino (dougie howser), to Ray (due south), Methos (highlander), Jayne (firefly), Logan (Veronica Mars, though this might have to do with the fact that the "hero" couldn't act worth shit), Spike (vs angel as the hero guy). And you know what all these characters seem to bring to the shows? Greyness.

The hero is someone who, morally, is into the whole western binary opposition black and white thing. Heroes kinda have to be that way, they need to be white hats, they need to believe in something good, and that a "good" side exists, in order to fight for it. They need to live on the white side in order to feel more passionately about their beliefs. I have nothing against this, we need heroes. But I like the guys who introduce the idea that not everything is black and white, the guys who understand that life is often lived in grey and that you're not necessarily a bad person for living in it. In fact, you're usually just a person honest enough to admit that that's where you live. These characters are sometimes more self-aware and empathetic, but they are also more often not doing the right thing. For this reason, and the fact that most of them are really hot, I dig the other guy. Don't ask me to explain all the Dougie/Frasier/Duncan/Simon/Duncan/Angel-loving freaks out there, they have to explain their own crushes :)

I relate to the moral greyness/fuzziness. Don't get me wrong, I've got my limits, I'm not thinking I'm this paragon of neutrality or anything. But...well let's take for example one of the questions on the seduction quiz: "Is it okay to have sex with a married person?" and I always pick a) that depends on so many things, rather than b) no, that's wrong. But in my head, I'm answering a different question: "would you sleep with a married person?" Now, yes it's okay to sleep with a married person who is in an open marriage, that's fine because there's no lying/cheating going on. But even when it is cheating, under certain circumstances I can see myself having sex with a married person. Would I consider it morally right? No. But would I do it? Sure. I have cheated on, been cheated on, and helped other people cheat on. I'm not ragingly proud of this, but I accept it. I'm not flagelating myself constantly about it, nor was I/do I flagelate at the time of committing my sins.

I don't sleep with my friends'lovers/partners (unless they want me to), that's my line at this point. I may flirt shamelessly with their partners, but I flirt shamelessly with everyone.

I'm also very much of the "in my back yard" morality. My best friend is at a low period in her life, and she does something that hurts another person, I understand her. Someone else that I don't know is at a low period in their life, and hurts my best friend, I get very angry - no understanding forthcoming from the Wee Yin. I also accept this hypocritical greyness, I know it's hypocritical but it's still the way I work.

I'm not sure about this, but it may come down to what a very wise stranger on a plane said to me once. We were discussing her 19 year old daughter, who was always fighting for human rights and trying to change the world. I said I remembered being younger and more passionate, fighting hard for all the things I believed in, being considerably more idealistic. And she said "yeah, when I was younger my motto was "fight the power" and now my motto is "pick your battles." But I think for some people out there, it's not an age thing, they keep on fighting, they never stop - that idealism and energy and passion is fueled by the belief that they are right about something, that there is a "right side" and that's beautiful. I mean, sure it can lead to extremist terrorist attacks and wars, but it can also lead to major social change and revolution. Sadly, I just ain't there anymore, if I ever really was.

The grey applies to more than my morality, and for some reason I seem to be coming up against a whole lotta black&white in my life right now. Maybe it's not quite that, maybe it's that I'm coming up against situations where being a grey human, flawed/fuzzy is not being taken into consideration. It's making my head hurt.

I prefer Queer theory to Lesbian/Gay Theory because of the whole fluctuating continuum idea of sexuality in queer, rather than the binary of Gay-Straight. And I have a grey idea of belly dance as well, there is so much variety within the dance and some people have this idea of "belly dance is this" (whatever "this" may be) and they can't accept anyone who interprets the dance differently. For me, tribal dance, especially fusion and goth, is what fits. Just because it's the type that fits for me, doesn't mean that I think goth is the only valid form, or that I don't appreciate the beauty of other forms of the dance. So why others gotta judge? Sorry, just a wee rant there.

Black&white, it's necessary I think - the world needs those passionate people, and how would we know where the middle is, where the spectrum goes to on either side, if we didn't have people living on those ends of the spectrum? Black&white is also great for arguments and discussions, but it's not really where my head lives.

Okay, not sure where all this is going, and I've edited this post a thousand times trying to get it to say what I want (which is why I'm up at 5:00am). Perhaps it's just to say that let's not forget that tis the season not just to celebrate giving/shopping but to celebrate the human beings around us, however flawed or different they may be, in whatever colour they happen to live in.

Okay, I've gone quite awhile posting impersonal blogs with links and shit, but just this one more. Tomorrow I'll write actual words.

Gotta love the Wet Spots. For all the pervy people in my life, especially Pickle.

For those of you interested in starting up belly dancing, the new Isis schedule for Winter Classes is up. I recommend taking classes with either Jodi or Lorraine.

Dammit, I've taken this stupid seduction quiz twice now, once drunk and once sober and I never get the result I think I am - I am so the Hunter but so far:

Drunk










Sober

Okay, not quite ready to blog about the busy weekend, and my AMAZING time at this December's Isis recital yet, other than to say that I am thankfully in possession of my skin as Anemone, in an unprecedented and unpredicted move, did not flay me alive for doing a surprise gothic choreo at her show. Surprises are fun!

Something that I did want to write about was just to warn you that I have decided that I am officially not a nice blogger. Kanga got this cute little badge on her blog, declaring herself to be a kind blogger. It's pretty much just saying that you won't hurt people on your blog and that you'll try and add a little brightness to the world with your blog.

After not very much thought:
Is this an extremely beautiful and commendable thing? Yes.
Is it me? No.

It was funny, because I had this desire to get the badge for my blog because the sentiment is nice and the little flower badge is pretty. But it made me think about my blog and my intentions for it - it's for me and me alone and I'm so happy that people read it and share with me, but frankly it's a place for me to be self-centered (sorry, another place for me to be self-centered, there are many in my life). I rant here, I whinge here, I love here, I laugh here, in short, I talk about me and me isn't always kind. Nor is me always grammatically correct. Plus, I have links to stories where people intentionally hurt eachother in the throes of passion, which brightens my day but might not brighten others'.

It's not to say that I'm a morbid bitch who hates everyone, just that I really can't make the guarantee of kindness. It's not the most pleasant thing to realize about myself, but I won't be signing a kindness contract any time soon.

Oh and some of the Wee Yin's are up - check out the blog link if you so choose.

Life is insane until Monday, when I shall happily return to blogging banal bits of benevolent and not-so-benevolent bites of my life.

Until then, I went to elementary school with this totally cool chick, Nikko Snyder, who I googled a few years back and found she was still totally cool doing this mag called GoodGirl. Looks like that went under, but she's now doing Briarpatch and this was sent out for all ye who want to submit to it.

Call for submissions: Briarpatch tackles the politics of gender at Briarpatch

Briarpatch magazine invites contributions to our March/April 2007 issue focusing on the politics of gender. We are looking for feature articles, op-eds, investigative reports, news briefs, interviews, profiles, reviews, poetry, and artwork that explore how gender intersects with other social issues and affects the lives of individuals and of society.


Particular attention will be given to new and emerging trends in the struggles of women and men for gender justice (or against gender hierarchy and gender essentialism, depending on how you want to frame the struggle). What is new? What is changing? Who are the individuals and organizations at the leading edge of current feminist or GLBT work at home and internationally? What are the causes for hope and celebration? for fear and loathing? What emerging trends are not being adequately addressed by the mainstream media?

Possible topics could include (but are by no means limited to): fundamentalism/neo-conservatism and feminism; the resurrection of the same-sex marriage debate; the recent budget cuts to Status of Women Canada; the fight for universal childcare; the future of anti-patriarchy, feminist, or GLBT activism; reproductive rights; domestic violence; stay-at-home parenting and domestic divisions of labour; media representations of gender and sexuality; international gender struggles for justice; and any other issues deserving increased popular attention.

First drafts are due by Friday January 19, 2007. Unsolicited submissions are welcome, but we encourage you to first send us a query. Your query should outline what ground your contribution will cover, give an estimated word count, and indicate your relevant experience or background in writing about the issue. Queries should be received by January 3, 2007.

We also welcome suggestions of relevant recent books/music/films to review in this issue, and welcome reviewers of the same. We also welcome questions about the breadth/depth/orientation of our gender analysis from prospective contributors.

For more information please see our submission guidelines here, consult our favourite editing schema at geist, and, if you need further info, drop us a line.

Though our eternally cash-strapped status greatly limits our ability to pay contributors, some funding will be set aside for honoraria for contributors to this issue.

Email your queries and submissions to this issue's editorial collective, care of editor@briarpatchmagazine.com, or mail to:

Briarpatch Magazine
2138 McIntyre St.
Regina, SK
S4P 2R7

Electronic submissions are preferred. Please include contact info and a short (1-2 sentence) bio of yourself. We reserve the right to edit your work (but will make a point of running substantial edits past you first), and cannot guarantee publication.

Last night I drove, for the first time in a really long time, and nobody died. It was quite exciting. Props to Jodi for guiding me through this difficult time and making sure I didn't kill us all in a traffic circle.

I'm trying to set up a wordpress thing with the Godless Romantic (aka Ass of Steel - still grumpy I'm no longer allowed to call him Ass) so we can get all the Wee Yin's up there, but for now I'll give you this little teaser of the description of the Wee Yin. This is all the work of the Godless Romantic so if you've been offended, talk to him :)

Wee Yin was named Wee, for though mighty, she was small of stature and Yin, for she was female. The indefatigable Wee Yin had the peculiarity of having an intense distaste for any that were shorter than her and though she could vanquish foes many times her size, she made it a point to crush underfoot any who dared to be smaller than she. To be fair, she did allow them to leave her presence instead of being pummelled, however she never informed them of their transgression so many were left married to the dust in all their sad innocence.

It must be said that Wee Yin was a nomadic creature. Most of the gods were not. And especially the other Chinese-Scottish ones for as we know, most gods were somewhat traditional and none more than the Chinese, and as for the Scots, well, travelling's not cheap, is it! And though it was quite clear that it was part of her deep nature it is also quite possible that some of her insistence on constant movement came from her decades held as a prisoner by the terrifying Man-Breast of Klona.

Ever since then it was difficult to tie the wee imp down (except through the judicious use of tricky ropes and knots from far away Nippon).

She tended to roam in a curious fashion of frenetic tumbling moves consisting of a series of tightly bound somersaults interspersed with prodigious leaps taking her hundreds of metres long and hundreds high and she would arc back down into more somersaults and then a leap and so forth. This would go on for hours at a time. In this way she would make her way through the land and of course would pass through the ancestral holdings of the other gods most of whom would simply find her a small annoyance, a scant few an affront, and some who would find her a pleasant diversion from their increasingly mundane existence. They enjoyed the palaver, the sharing of news she brought from her other visits, and you might hear the news whether you wished to or not for she was no mean gumflapper.

A little must be said about the speech of the Wee Yin. Though not uncommonly coarse, the Wee Yin was reputed to have one of the least modulated mouths in the land. Not only would she speak of most anything but her curses were both frequent and extraordinary. Though the gods had no real conventions concerning the use of words, she was a little more colorful than most and sometimes, even while doing her tumbling travel, imprecations most foul could be heard flying off from her rolling form. And at certain times, small plants would wither and low flying birds lose consciousness for a few seconds if too near the blue stream. It has been suggested that if the Wee Yin chose, this would be more than just attitude but even a power of some sort.