Recently in Diaryland Category

I thought I would re-publish this entry from more than four years ago. It's mostly still relevant, and rather thoughtful, I think. I sent this to a black coworker who could not agree more; he grew up similarly, and faces the same things.

Originally from March 23, 2003

Knowing myself now, I'm going to make some guesses as to how I (just me, no one else) would turn out if I were female. If I were a woman I'd:

• have grown up very pissed off at the inequalities that prevail between the sexes;
  
• have called myself a feminist when I was a young teenager, recoiled from the term in the wake of a feminist backlash and especially when learning of the failures of the early and middle (and current) feminist leaders for women of colour;
  
• have reclaimed the term on a personal level sometime in university, and would currently be keeping feminist issues near the front of my mind;
  
• be about 5'8", maybe between 125 and 135 pounds; basically somewhere between my other two sisters;
  
• have very similar friend/romantic relationships in high school in that I wouldn't likely have had a boyfriend in high school, and I would have tried and succeeded to make inroads with the popular crowd, only to find out years later that the effort wasn't exactly worth it. I was too different from them. I should have stuck with the band crowd rather than the jocks (I was bi-groupal then);
  
• probably be heterosexual, but in university I would have been VERY affectionate with some of my female friends, possibly even developing a crush on a couple of them;
  
• probably test what I could and could not get away with when it comes to men. I'd see how far they might go to sleep with me. As soon as I got enough confidence and skill to manipulate men, I'd start seeing most of them as beings who want to fuck me (and therefore need to be managed) before I'd see them as people (in university and high school, I'm not sure how far off that is from the truth most of the time.);
  
• I'd be REALLY attracted to the ones that wouldn't let me get away with bullshit. That's similar (but not exactly) how it is now;
  
• have been far more arrogant, patronizing and condescending than I have ever been in this (male) life at that point (around age 20);
  
• later take advantage of being a woman as much as I could; I'd learn to work the system like crazy. I'd try to win respect through manipulation, but then realize that respect wasn't what I was getting at all, just a bad name. This would be either because I wasn't a good enough manipulator, because I didn't have enough of the goods, or because I had too much of the goods;
  
• by now have thrown away all the bullshit I was carrying around and just live;
  
• have gone through my 20s with some key friends of both genders; it'd be about half and half. At least one of those male friends would have been a former sex partner;
  
• have had a pregnancy scare, or possibly more than that, likely in university;
  
• speak out in favour of porn;
  
• be a member of Bust Magazine's Girl Wide Web and several other female-oriented sites/rings/etc.;
  
• call myself JanisParker;
  
• (no, I'd call myself something like Autumn Moonstar or something);
  
• have been pretty athletic, for a girl;
  
• have resented anyone actually saying that to me;
  
• have started out playing the clarinet or flute rather than the sax or trumpet, but I'd have been fairly good at all of the concert band instruments anyway;
  
• be in a long string of relationships starting in my mid-20s, but never get dumped until age 28. That would shock and confuse me for months at least;
  
• still hate fools.

  This is like a "101 things about me" list, just a little different.

  *UPDATE*: I could probably update this list, as it may have changed in three years. Why don't you do the same sort of thing on your blog? I think I might make an entry about what things would be like for me if I were white. That would be much more difficult, I think.

Two entries in one day. Feast on the prolific prose.

Just read a couple of Minderella's entries about hooking up and expressing sexual power and so on. At one point she said that "i have never been the girl to walk right up to the best looking guy in the bar and then make it happen".

Is there anyone that can really tell me why Janet Jackson exposing her breast is such a huge deal? Really? Anyone?

Please tell me how this breast is going to warp and demean the minds "of the children". Of the fucking children.

The word of the day is "detestable". Brought to you by the letter--you guessed it--T!

Today is not a great day for working or thinking. My ulcer has gone into chronic mode and I can't get any sleep, either. These things are unrelated, as well, so it's not like solving one will solve the other.

This weekend was one of complete failure.

The other day I was invited to go up north to Tremblant to hang out at a cottage. My Ottawa people were going and all I had to do was get myself up there. But the most convenient bus was not convenient enough, and I was forced to consider other alternatives. The other alternative, as suggested by my coworker, was to rent a car. For obvious reasons, I had reservations about going down that road again. (I think that might have been a joke in that sentence.)

Ugh.

Friday night was Suj's 30th birthday, and somehow I decided that it was a good idea to forego my rules of drinking, which are:

1. Know when to slow down;
2. Know when to stop;
3. Know when to start pounding back the water.

This is the happiest entry I have read in quite a while. I think everyone should read it. Maybe life is about capturing moments like these. I have already sent it out to several of my friends, the ones that would "get" it, anyway.

Yesterday there were protests held all over the province (because Quebeckers love a good protest), most notably in downtown Montreal, where Rose works. She wrote me this yesterday in an email titled "Umbrellas of Rebellion":

The sky is grey, the buildings are dark, and Mr. Di Vita is not in his office overlooking de Maisonneuve and Sherbrooke. The union has been occupying the streets all day and now, everybody has met on de Maisonneuve to listen to a speech from their leaders. All the colored umbrellas got together to offer us, looking from above, a dazzling show. I wish I had a camera to immortalize this view."

This is why I fell for her.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you were the creator of something that you considered small, but that countless beings considered huge? Huge as in everything? Consider this scenario:

A 12-year-old boy receives a chemistry set for his birthday. Not just any set, but something super-ridiculous and awesome with endless possibilities. Something that we can't even comprehend because these people are so advanced. It's like a Sea Monkeys kit, but 10 billion times more. Among other things, you could make things blow up, create continents, chemicals, whatever.

One day, the boy creates something pretty neat, but things start happening of their own accord. Cool! He takes a very active interest in what happens, from the creation of new mountains to single-celled organisms to trees and birds and so on. He fixes what he doens't like and nurtures what he does like. What an imagination he has! And he takes care of his creation for a whole two years. It's his best creation yet, and the one thing to which he has ever voluntarily committed himself.

But, as all young boys will do at that age, things happen to his body and his feelings. There are girls that he likes. Puberty starts. His interests change, and he veers away from his childish pursuits. In effect, he abandons it, but returns to it briefly from time to time, for kicks.

The Bible, or the Catholics, say that we are God's favourites. How do you know this? Maybe God has other favourites that he still plays with. Maybe his favourite toy is some asteroid somewhere that is perfectly shaped, has a perfect orbit and doesn't hurt anyone, which is more than what can be said for us.

If God is some kid bored with his toy, we should realize that there is no real way for him to communicate directly with us, nor is there any compelling reason for him to care for us any more than the average person gives a damn about sea monkeys or ants. Sure there's a God, and maybe God could care for "us", but not for "me" or "you". By the same token, saying that "God hates fags" or "You hurt God when you do that" is ridiculous. Even if God knew that you spank four times a day, or killed three people for that matter, God wouldn't care. God has to impress the girl in science class.

If God knew that he was being used to perpetrate bullshit agendas, I wonder how much he would smite the wrongdoers. Chances are, he wouldn't care about that either.

God: "Dood, they're like, using me to blow shit up."

God's friend: "Cool, dood."

God's other friend: "Whatever, man. Puff, puff, pass. That's the rule."

That's another thing: What if God were on drugs? One trip would last for a thousand years. Or ten thousand. That could explain the Spanish Inquisition, the Crusades and George W. Bush.