Category: Relationships

Why I blog

Take that, people who say it’s nothin’ but narcissism.

Also, I have a terrible memory and a blog helps me remember when things happened.

Also, Katie has used my blog to help her remember when distressing and horrific things, as reported by me, happened.

Yesterday Paul and I drove up-island to visit his cousin Ruth in Nanaimo.  She’s living on an acre of land and she got it for a steal of a price, and she and her fisherman spouse are living very happily.  She has to walk fifteen minutes to get her mail, and another ten to get her eggs, but she’s a five minute drive from a yoga studio and she has her own well, so there.

She made us a fabulously warm welcome, and soon we were deep in talk about cob houses and straw bale houses and the Cuban 5 and the amazing local arts and politics scene, and after Paul re-strung her guitar I said I’m getting my mandolin, and she hauled out her Indian drums (sounds like tablas but they weren’t) and we had a fabulous 90 minutes of jamming.  I kept nervously checking the Malahat webcam.  Long about 4 we decided to head back.

And it snowed.  Paul and I were bemoaning our lack of cameras, because the snow slid down the road signs and just hung there, and some of the visual effects were quite funny.  The snow was worse in Victoria than up the Malahat, go figure.

Paul went off to hang with Dr Filk for the evening (more music, somewhere, and a meal in there too) and I grabbed some Mayan Chocolate Haagen Dazs and a small round of Brie (my god, they fell on it like animals…. well behaved, queuing animals) and Darwin had a noisy bath and went to bed and we ate pizza and I started reading The Caryatids by Bruce Sterling and at 7:30 I collapsed.  See what a day without coffee can do to me?  Also I did all the driving, since Paul has come to the realization that he can tolerate my tailgating and random lane changes way better than vice versa.  A couple of hours in the car also allowed us the opportunity for an airing of the grievances (or was more usually the case, the bragging of the amazingness) re the kids. Sometimes it’s good to have a chance to bash away at this stuff so we can present a united front when the next issue comes up….

Woke up at 4, edited the sound files I recorded yesterday of Darwin’s charming vocalizations, finished the Caryatids (three stars but I still want to know where the food of the future will be coming from), showered, and now I’m looking forward to a meal at my Granny’s place of residence and a nice ride home on the ferry, probably late in the afternoon.  And I can haz new quilt, which is actually a quilt that my mum made when I was tiny, so I am extremely happy about my ‘haul’.  Oh, also my grampa’s memory book (two thick tomes) has been delivered to me in duplicate for Jeff.

So far an AWESOME weekend, and watching Katie motor her way – reading, my god, she’s reading! – through the Sookie Stackhouse books is making me very very happy.

Peaceful

I really like this neighbourhood.

The crows didn’t cooperate yesterday.

Prime Minister Harper has just announced that Highway 11 between Saskatoon and Prince Albert is going to be twinned.  I’ve been up that highway to go here.

Keith slept over.  He really is one of my favorite people, and I love him more all the time.  It’s just the way he says things that gets me, the way he is so solemn and yet so cheerful at the same time, like a very secular monk.

Katie says she is coming with me to Grandma’s next weekend.  Whether this will happen I have no clue, but I’m going whether she does or not. She is still doing well in school but sometimes when she mentions Daxus I get a trifle annoyed and have to look the other way, metaphorically.  I don’t have any beef with Daxus currently.  The last time I saw him, he took one look at my face, gave me a hug, and took his leave of Katie thus allowing us to do girly things (actually I was consulting Katie about a personal matter.  It’s great when your kids are old enough to consult…)

I don’t want to waken the boys, but I don’t want to have breakfast too late because I’m off to a nice restaurant for lunch today with the Dunnetteers.  I am so looking forward to it, and Keith is going too!  I get to show him off, te he.

Today, pay rent, a quick tidy of the room, clean out the fridge (gah!) and other than that nothing but frivol and frolic.

How to respond….

One friend answered my enquiry as to how he’s doing with, “Glad I can’t find the key to the trigger lock on my 45”.

 

Christ and Odin.  I don’t think he’s talking about homicide. 

 

Another friend is watching the explosive decompression of her brother’s marriage.  This story has everything except Yul Brynner, and I can’t repeat a word of it because a) it’s none of my business and b) there are minor children involved.  Let’s just say that in the past I’ve said that wifey is, at best, suffering from narcissistic personality disorder and at worst is capable of the kind of life altering nuttery that drags everyone who gets close to her through a mire of lies and attention getting bs.

As for me, I am going to try to keep being content, although I am definitely having my struggles at the mo….

Wringing hands

One of the things I really don’t like about being far away from my friends, especially when they are in trouble, or troubled, or just plain flat out overwhelmed by events, is that I cannot hug them, make them tea, or tell them to their faces how wonderful they are….

For Tammy, I light a candle and hope that an intelligent, articulate man notices your strength, intelligence and love of life.  Sooner would be better.  And for once, please, Goddess bright, a guy who doesn’t shrivel into a little worm when you apply your brains and emotions to challenges!  Extra crispy wishes for knees to stay good through the France trip, although I’ll push you through the Louvre in a wheelchair if I have to.

For Carrie, I light a candle and hope that this parting turns into a new opportunity.  Damn, I had had such hopes for him….

For Deb, I light a candle and hope that my ‘advice’ is received as intended, and I sincerely hope that you get some surcease for the unrelenting amount of strain you’ve been under.  Hug Jim for me, hug Jenn for me, and pat Spence on the back; the menfolks have been awesome on this one.

Everybody, as one!

Allegra, you are bleeding crazy!

I spent most of last evening with Dax, and then went to Suzanne’s.  I didn’t argue with him.  I didn’t give him any money.  And we worked on cover letters and talked.  I also met his dad.

Why the **** would I do that?  Well, I have a number of reasons.  First, I wanted to be very clear with him what my rationale is for going anywhere near him after all the horrible stuff that happened with Katie.  I want him to be working, not in jail.  If he’s working, he can pay rent, help his family, think about getting some money together for school, and have something resembling a life. If he’s in jail, not so much.  Second, I am wanting to shed my reputation as an evil cow; I got to hear some of the stuff Dax said about me second hand, and I kinda want to prove it’s not really true.  One can say, “But if he’s in jail he can’t hurt Katie!” but I would really prefer he was paying taxes.  Third, it’s really hard for me to model forgiveness and getting on with your life if I refuse to do it because it’s hard.  Humans is apes.  It’s easier for the ape to do what it has seen being done.

Tammy said that the biggest difference between poor people and rich people is that poor people don’t get a lot of training or practice in deferring gratification.  There is no next year; there is no tomorrow.

Except, unfortunately, there is.

Update, and then off to Victoria

Keith was here last night.  I always feels me some better when my peeps are here.  (Cheeze Whiz,  maybe middle aged white women should lay off the ghetto slang.)  More to the point – we watched CSI and hung out.

I spoke briefly to Katie on the phone (I had been communicating with Dax and wanted to give her the update (she was supportive)) and gleaned the intelligence that she’s called the cops on him for phone harassment.  Given that even speaking to her technically puts him in breach of conditions for the last time he assaulted her, his PO intervened and said, slowly and clearly, that if he called Katie again he was going back to jail.  Dax has issues, but a desire to go back to jail isn’t one of them.

To be fair, I have to stay clear of him as well, never mind the temptation of being Evil McNasty to him in emails.  I am not proud of myself at the moment, but I HAD to vent, and Katie, as I said, reviewed my comments and at one point giggled and said, “Go Mom!”   So, the damage is extensive – Katie had 5 years in an abusive relationship, is out about 1700 dollars – most of the school money she saved for herself, which was why she ended up at my door and Paul’s for funds – pawned gifts, broken guitars, assaults by Dax’ housemate, and her relationship with Suzanne going sour…. yeah, she’s done.  For all of you who wanted to know is this it, I think calling his PO and threatening to file a report looks like a stake in the Slayer’s hand.

That said, IF he got and kept a job, paid her back, made amends, abjured violence and verbal abuse, and made peace with me, Paul and Keith, AND Katie wanted him back, I’d accept him as a son in law.  Stranger things have happened.  I believe very sincerely in the ability of people to change for the better, but it seems changing for the worse is easier.  As things stand now, Katie might want him back in an alternate universe, but this one will have to survive without their love.

Another Conservative government

and really low voter turnout.  Canadians are sheep, you know that?

Oh well.  Here’s some Nathan Fillion porn to make it better.  No, it’s not really porn.  But it’s funny (fwd by Robof9).

Apparently Katie has never memorized my phone number (%$#^%!) so… she called her dad to tell him she’s okay, and she’s all broken up with Daxus because he prevented her from going to school.  Or something.  She can only miss ten days of school or she can’t graduate.  And she’s going to go get her phone back.  That should work out well.

This next paragraph was written in rage and backspaced over with coffee.

Isn’t it funny how we dignify worry with a word like prayer….?

Transphobia

Quoted from today’s tyee.ca:

 

Ten Signs of Transphobia in Our Culture, by Christopher A. Shelley

 

  1. Denial that the problem exists in the first place. 

     

  2. Inability to distinguish between categories such as queer, gay, lesbian, and trans. 

     

  3. Lack of meaningful discussion in educational and workplace settings. 

     

  4. Anxiety over not being able to tell if a person is male or female. 

     

  5. Crude jokes directed towards trans people or with trans-related content. 

     

  6. Refusal to accept trans people as one’s own teacher, doctor, politician, dentist, etc. 

     

  7. Thinking that being trans is OK but also dismissing the idea of ever dating a transperson. 

     

  8. Reducing trans to being merely and solely a psychiatric category. 

     

  9. Trivialization and media spectacles centred on trans-ness as an object of ‘fascination.’ 

     

  10. Refusing the fundamental claims of transpeople as being genuinely mis-sexed.

 

Book launch for Transpeople: Repudiation, Trauma, Healing. Event begins at 7 p.m., Thursday, Sept. 25, at Little Sister’s bookstore, 1238 Davie St., Vancouver. RSVP to awilson@utpress.utoronto.ca.

The perfect wedding

I guess I have to say that I don’t feel bad at all about being almost 50, because it means I’ve attended a fair few marriage ceremonies.  I have some basis of comparison, then, when I say that Jerome and Shannon’s wedding was the closest to perfect I’ve ever seen.

A marriage, you know, one of those commitments not to be entered into lightly or with no thought.

First, the happy couple.  Hardworking, intelligent, hospitable and good-looking.  Once in a very long while you meet a couple made for each other and when you get the news they’re engaged you get all wiggly like a puppy that something good is gonna be happening and you’re gonna be invited.

The venue: on a near cloudless day, warm with a bit of a breeze, they married outdoors next to the pavilion in Deer Lake Park, in front of about 100 people who had flown or driven from all over Washington or Western Canada.

The bridal party: Three stunning women in beautiful red strapless dresses that they all looked good in and which they would all be able to wear again for a formal occasion.  The groomsmen: two guys who go back to the dawn of time with Jerome, and his twin sister, who, uh, goes back even earlier than that.  Joanna got to wear the same red gown, and the whole party looked great – and happy to be there.

The bridal costume:  While I still think Cheryl’s wedding gown was magnificent, it was appropriate for her age and not being marriage number one.  THIS was a full on girly girl, long train, beads and spangles, white wedding dress. It was exactly like the kind of dress 8 year old girls dream about, and it was quite funny because Shannon is not a girly girl, but she still had the perfect dress.

The ceremony started and ended on time.  I don’t think the bride and groom recited their vows with quite enough intent and dignity, but that’s just me and they still got the job done.

The officiating dude:  He was the possessor of  a clear mellow voice with an English accent and he didn’t rush anything.

The presence of mind of the groom:  While they were reciting vows, a small spider started down Shannon’s face (it had probably joined the ceremony during the picture taking just before the ceremony).  Shannon’s arachnophobia is legendary, and Jerome dealt with it calmly.  She was laughing at him as he tried to clear it off her face because he didn’t tell her it was a spider until AFTER which was kinda the right thing to do if he didn’t want her leaping up and screeching.

The reception hall was exactly the right size and there was an open bar.  No, I didn’t go insane (I am up at 6 am the next day after all) but I got plenty convivial.

The music at the reception:  from the last 50 years, but leaning more towards U2 and Aerosmith and Tom Petty and Tragically Hip and Pink Floyd, with Sinatra and Del Shannon thrown in.  Danceable, hummable, fun.

The guests; fun loving.  The table I sat at:  All people I know and love, or would care to get to know better.  The MC:  a friend of Shannon’s who goes back yonks; he did a good job.  The best man.  Okay, I’m prejudiced, because I really like Sam I Am, but that was THE BEST speech ever.  It was completely loaded with electricity puns.  Loaded.  pOp, if you’d been there even if you would have been roaring:  All of his current and former coworkers were speechless with laughter, not the nervous kind but the kind where you are leaning on the table crying.

Food:  really good roast beast and plenty of other nummy things, in abundance, well cooked.

The dancing:   I was out there with a crowd of coworkers when Robbie B said, “Oh my god Allegra did you see that?” “What, the father of the bride delivering jello shooters onto the dance floor?” “How perfect is that?” “I think it was an epoch making day in Canadian history, frankly, and WE WERE HERE.”

The seating plans:  Weddings with four parents – none of whom really can sit at the same table – don’t necessarily work all that well.  There wasn’t any awkwardness.

Shannon said (she was grinning) during the bride and groom speech that she had made a Powerpoint presentation to the caterers, so you get the impression she’s a disciplined and organized woman.  Well, I’d say it paid off, because Shannon and Jerome made the decision from the outset to throw a memorable party for their friends and family, and they got their wish.  I had a complete blast.  Many thanks to Mike for the ride to the hall and companionship during the evening…. at one point a photographer asked if we were together and we just smirked, while the other folks at the table laughed.  And thanks to Jeff for getting me there, I appreciate that a lot.

Wasn’t that a party…..  If any of my pix turned out halfway decent I’ll post some later.

Lovely visit

ScaryClown showed us around his ‘hood, being Main St., and after a lovely (and on ScaryClown’s part, quite intensely liquid) brunch, we wandered over to Voltage and Solly’s Bagelry and the Organic Grocery store. I picked up a black and red squid Tshirt from Voltage (LMB probably knows the one I mean). I must say, I’ve never watched somebody pack away three lime margaritas before noon….I didn’t even know you could ORDER lime margaritas before noon. Much as I love alcohol, my day would end the instant I got home and kicked my shoes off. There’s only one beer left, but I’ll fix that tomorrow – I should probably lay off today. Anyway, we picked up sesame bagels and smoked salmon cream cheese and these little intensely chocolate swirly things, and Keith and ScaryClown got cinnamon buns. At the organic grocery I picked up a San Pellegrino for Keith – he loves it – and organic coffee, because I’m out, and organic walnuts, because I saw them and decided to go nuts. Yeah, very funny.

ScaryClown wanted to know why he hadn’t been told about Brian’s going away and I said, “But you’re always over at Uncle Jimmy’s, drinking, on Friday nights. You’ve been doing that every Friday since I met you, almost.” And he burst out laughing, because he thought he hadn’t been invited because he and LTGW are semi-feuding (which, by the way, I am not commenting on because I have a garage-sized crush on LTGW and consider ScaryClown to be my sibling, so there’s no way I can win no matter what I say on the subject, although I will say that they are both very smart and very sensitive).

Ah! Paul just phoned. He’s going to bring food over and we’ll have dinner together with Jeff and Keith AND he’s going to stop and get beer. So I’ve got about three hours to do the Tasmanian Devil cleanup (my room is a DUMP) and maybe blast through the bathroom like a pink tornado.

Jeff and I were thinking about opening Crazy Bob’s Discount Funeral Home. Some conditions apply, bagpipes not included. Hm. I guess it was funnier at the time.

Life is pretty good. Yes, my back still hurts, but I’ve learned that complaining about it never helps.