Slush Day

Today I had two interviews…I didn’t want to pass them but I’ve already said yes. One was for helping and checking an Excel spreadsheet, the other it was related to check grammar. Do you see how miserable can be live for $11? Spring is coming, and the weather is totally crazy. Two days ago was snowing and raining like hell and today the sun came up. I can see in the afternoons the shy sunset and I realized days are beginning to be longest. So, the stinky Spring is coming soon. The tradicional garage sales will come and Summer too. I hate Summer, people hanging around and smiling all day, be out all the time, bikers and runners doing their stuff.

It’s like the cycle of life and seasons are forever there to annoy me, to remind me how alone I’m here in this country. One of the hardest things for me is expressing my emotions and deep thoughts, the pain, the suffering, the anguish, the loneliness, the pain alone and again, all together make more pain this existence.

I don’t understand how people cannot be able to speak. When somebody is in pain Canadians don’t want to listen or if they do is very superficially. Quebecers don’t listen your sorrows, they just want to have pleasure in life. One of the phrases shocked me the most was “Nobody cares, that’s very Canadian”. After living almost 5 years in Montreal, after being absorbed for this subculture I still cannot play a different role. Following rules, especially this, is truly the most complicated and painful. I guess if I want to cry or express deep feelings I have to pay somebody. So, which means, I’m clinically sick or insane. I see things differently but not follow the stream can bring me troubles.

I thought I got friends but not. I’m alone, totally alone and I got to fight and choose things by my own, no advices, all risks can come in 1 second as a result of a bad presumption. My friend from Germany who is living with her boyfriend is almost gone, I don’t blame, she has a new life, so …alone again.

Those problems, social problems which push even more my antisocial behaviour make difficult to go out and socialize. I’m not looking for pleasure but happiness but here eating is most important thing, fun, have fun is deep. When I was in couple doing activities were a problem, my ex bitch hasn’t any idea a part from going to the cinema and going to restaurants because was useless at the kitchen.

I just bike like a possessed hamster on his fortune wheel. I burn my sorrows, even if I’m tired I continue, the pain can be stimulating. While I cycle all kind of memories, ideas, flashbacks run through my mind. My ex, the life I left in Lima, the friends I never could make here, the shallow personalities, the unhappy couples I see everyday, the desperate housewives try to deal with their kids, the busy time and the look for all kind of pleasure or pseudo religion to relief that loneliness I see in every eye I stare when I walk without a real destination, my destination is an excuse to go out.

Sometimes death seems to be a good alternative to live all this.


Last Day Again

Yes, my contract in the “House of the Flying Knives” finished…I’m so glad that chapter of my life was closed. I worked 2 years for the government as a contractor, I mean, through agencies which they take a percentage of my salary, sometimes can be 3 dollars sometimes 4 or more. It’s sad how the market works, it sucks but I have to pay my bills, all my salary went to pay the apartment. I didn’t like working in that place, people ignored me or simply treated me a real “support”, kind of  “mini slave”. I was surprised how a group, well compact never let me in, because I wasn’t a their level, and they made me feel inferior. There were some exceptions, like the 2 assistants.

One of my biggest problems was a girl who looked just like my ex, it was a heavy burden. When I met her I found her the only happy person in the office, days later I had an erotic dream with her…then I realized she was like my ex-bitch, wanted more and more, attention and help because she wasn’t able to do her Excel job. I remember her leaving early to have a beer…I wanted to kill her that day. I should pay attention to girls who smile all the time.

There was the handicapped and evil girl besides my office, and the boy I was replacing there…all the hypocrites…the only positive thing I got from there was my training in finance and some nice girls I met in account department. One was trainer and the other too, the second looked gay but till now I don’t know.

It’s been a week since I finished the job and the telephone didn’t stop to ring for some job offers…most of them pay almost nothing for doing 40 different things. I’m so tired because what happened in that office that I’m not even able to talk openly.

Looking for a job again…to sick of that.

The Crackerman

After my accident on my bike, after the almost fall from the stairs my neck suffered too much. My masotherapist suggested me to see a chiropractic.

There is a clinic just near my place. After two nights without sleeping I decided to go. I was waiting in the hall with one woman.  I was and I’m still nervous. I wanted to be fast the test but he took his time observing my reflexes in different positions and took 5 X-rays of my neck and back. The decoration of the place was normal it’s just the photographs that scared me. When there’re luxation and you see the vertebrae twisted or even fusioned. In my mind my neck was in the worst phase. He made me move my legs and neck in different directions as I was looking for Mecca. With a kind a caoutchouc hammer he hit my column and with a kind of bell he felt the resonance in my back. He moved my legs against my chest asking me if I felt any pain: my answer was no.

One of his observation was I had hyperlaxity, that means my tendons are flexible which is relatively good but he told me if I have a car accident it will a problem for me, people like us has luxation and healing take more time. At this point of his speech I was almost white of panic. The worst was coming, he took my blood pression and I had a lower one, he made me climb to the escale…I got now 58 kg!!! I’m 3 kilos more than usual, he measured me…the result 1.58, I was 1.61 years ago…so I was feeling fat and short. I don’t want to try more clothes for now.

After all that he took me to the X-ray room, he made me sign a paper giving him authorisation and confirming I wasn’t pregnant..yuck!!!! I was in front of an old machine, just like in Peru have in the public hospitals. We were there like 20 minutes even more. After, we talked about tomorrow when we’ll see the results of the X-rays.

When I arrived home my friend and masotherapist asked me if I was ok. I explained my experience.

I’m feeling tired and quite sad. Friday is my last day at the office…I won’t miss that place but again start looking for something is getting to my nerves. I got an interview the 25th, this Saturday I got an exam and I just missing my dad a lot. My credit card is rising because the chiropractic, I need Windows 7 and new glasses.

Feel poor is nothing like feeling sick and alone. Today at the office we celebrate the Chinese New Year, there was free food, music alive and you ask a Chinese guy to write some words. I chose “happiness”, now I keeping on my fridge. Tomorrow there’s a Public Service Pride, I didn’t want to go and I won’t because I got my appointment with my chiropractic.

I hope to have good news.

Lesbo Party

It 30 minutes after midnight and I’m on my bed, typing with Lima using my leg as a pillow. The lesbo party that I was expecting wasn’t what I imagined.

I left home at 8:30 pm, I waited for 10 minutes the bus at -14. Quite chilly outside, I need to buy a Canada Goose jacket. So I asked the bus driver what time last bus was available and he asnwered me very kindlye “At 12.35 pm”. So, I had money to take a taxi just in case but my plans changed completely when I arrived to the National Art Centre.

I arrived early, I had to wait like 20 minutes before seeing somebody I knew: the Manager I met in the other party. In the meantime there was a big screen outside the room and I could watch the Olympics inaguration ceremony. It was quite embarassing being alone walking around without avaible to talk to anynobody. There weren’t a lot of people at the beginning, but the groups were already formed. What surprised me the most was all the first comers were over 50’s and they were dressed office style. Butches and dykes.

The Manager, Peggy, asked me to join her group. We took a big round table. The decoration was kind pre Valentine’s day cheap. A white tableclothe, 5 Hershey’s and some tiny little red hearts. She introduced me her friends, her ex (from a 8 years-long relationship) and another 3 women around their 50’s, fashioned, well dressed, over made-up. They called themselves the Francophone table. Nobody of them asked anything or looked at me, or tried to talk to me. So, I prefer to stay away and just talk to Peggy. I was feeling invisible. Peggy realized they older people were coming and coming and she said “this is not good for you”. Well, at that point I was feeling not only unconfortable because the francos were talking to each and because more and more people were coming.

The social stratification were visible at this point. People from the unlucky pot were there, dressed ordinary, the table besides us were the old butch couples, two fat women wearing ties dancing romanticaly. The other table behind us were the middle aged beatnik dykes. At the end of the room were other tables with more lesbians. I should add younger people were a real minority. By the way, I saw 3 black women and one from India.

Later at almost midnight, hot girls arrived. Very feminate and stylish. The kind of women you have to spend at least 60$ in drinks to be observed or listened.  I was looking at one, younger and beautiful woman dressed in black. Of course she never noticided I existed. That’s the kind of woman you call her “Impossible”, impossible to be by your side, to talk to or to be near her.

One of the most interesting phenomenes are transexual people. Man-To-Women (MTW). There were 2 transexuals in love, dancing, caressing and kissing each other. One was very tall, at least 1.95 mt. She reminded me Marylin Manson without make up. She was beautiful, she looked at me and smiled me.In fact, I saw 3 others, one from the unlucky pot with her herfriend, dressed very 80’s a MTW and another MTW friend of her.

I saw Sarah from the Public Service Pride, I approched her because she was surrounded by beautiful girls but when I arrived they were gone.  Later I was able to say hi to her. Sarah is a fat woman always carring a drink in her hand, always, no matter the circunstances she plays with her Blackberry and hangs her drink. She always walks around the room or the restaurant checking people, playing with her hair and taking care of her glass. When she talks to you never looks at your eyes, always at the door looking to know who’s coming.

Peggy came and dragged me to the dance floor, she was talking about her date, it seems is working well. I’m happy for her, she’s  hot and she deserves happiness but she was a bit afraid because the girl she’s dating is 40 years old and she is 49.

After dancing I just sat and listened to a little contest with some prices that of course, I didn’t win.  I went to the dance floor to look for Peggy and tell her that I was leaving…she was talking and dancing with somebody. I just grabbed my jacket and left.

As usual, find the exit was complicated. I was lost and another lesbian from the unlucky pot showed me the way. She said “are you leaving early?” I said “I got nothing to do here”. She replied “People find what they want in Ottawa”. I didn’t understand her answer, but probably I’m more lost that I was thinking.

I found the exit and I waited for my bus which arrived 15 minutes later with the same bus driver that I met when I arrived to Ottawa. At home Lima was waiting for me. I wrote a short message to a friend and went to sleep.

So, do you think you can dance? Not me.

Sitting on the bus Depeche Mode’s song was in my head:

I was born with the wrong sign
In the wrong house
With the wrong ascendancy
I took the wrong road
That led to the wrong tendencies
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme
On the wrong day of the wrong week
I used the wrong method with the wrong technique

Unlucky Pot Luck

Among many activities inside the lesbian community I decided to go to one I’ve never imagined would be so old. Or I should say in an activity I feel so young. Saturday, I went to Ottawa to the Jack Purcell Community Center. It’s funny but community centers in Montreal are different but they smell and people are the same. In Montreal buildings are square and red, most of them are located in old churches. This one in Ottawa was big and I had the impression I was entering to a 60’s sanatorium or healthcare center. I was following my instincts and I opened not matter what door was in front of me. I saw many black people together. They looked Haitians. I had no idea there were several rooms to be  rented. I knew lesbians play badminton every Saturday.

I went to the bathroom and when I was leaving I saw a lesbian old couple holding a Tupperware. When I say older they had white hair. They took the elevator and then I realised the activity, pot luck were on the second floor. This activity was organised by LOG, lesbian outdoors. My surprise was coming after opening the last door. Around 40 0r 50 grandmother lookalike were chatting and I was feeling like I was in the wrong place. The reason I came here was because there was another lesbian activity in Vieux Hull, Francophone dinner night in a restaurant and I didn’t want to go there because I didn’t want to speak French and spend my money in food. What a surprise I had. Yes, I had an inverted blast.

My staff advisor is lesbian and talked to me about this group and I decided to go and check the market inside. I can say there was only one woman who looked under 55 who looked interesting but I realised her name was Caroline…what a turn off. And she looked as she was taking medication. I don’t know why but people who participated or are members of community centers are always low-income, do pot luck and cheap activities which is ok why I don’t understand is why there are always old and poor people all together in those centers.

There was a transsexual who used to go to the Unitarian Church and she was the big manager of the organisation. They invited a lesbian account who gave us tips about taxes and benefits and non benefits of declare things or services to the government. It was very interesting and the food was very good as good lesbian there was toffu..yuck.

After thanking everybody I left and I went to see the ice carving competition…which I adored…not luck in this pot luck