Girls Night Out (With a Camouflaged Dyke)

There many things that happens in the most unexpected way. Just out of the blue, I went to renew my security card at the office. I know the security girl who always smiled at me with a big wide open smile like a mouse so happy to see a big chunk of cheese. Her name is Suzanne, not that taller than me, chubby, married with 2 kids….that’s right, a perfect desperate housewife. When I went to see her for my security pass, I told her I was feeling down, that it was difficult to meet new people or friends and only people I know are over 60’s. Her working partner said loudly “what’s the problem with people over 60?” of course, the guy was over 60. She said to me, once per month she has a girls night out and she invited me for next Saturday….I said yes, we exchanged phone numbers and that was it!!!

Saturday came and I didn’t know how to dress….I just grab standard office clothes…and I drove to downtown. There, she phoned me and told me to meet her at Hard Rock Cafe. Well, I went inside the Hard Rock Cafe when I noticed she wasn’t there I called her and she said “outside there”. And when I look through the window, she was there with 4 other girls. I barely recognized. As a security member, she has a pony tail, no make up and wears an uniform. That night, I discovered she had long curly black hair and she looked just gorgeous. I met her friends there, Fatima, a nice chubby woman, family related to Suzanne, Anne, who looked like that character Alice, in the L Word tv show and a short chubby pseudo vegan girl named…I don’t remember her name, but is not important.

We were at downtown at 7pm looking for restaurant…all places were full and we had no reservation whatsoever. Of course, since nobody decided where to eat in advance or where to go, we didn’t have any reservation. So, after verifying the menu in one restaurant because the vegan was not picky but vegan, I suggested going to a “all you can eat” restaurant, I went once at lunch time like 2 years ago. What I wasn’t expecting is these girls were really into spend money as if they were business women. Also, they were the  kind of people who like eating and do all kind of activities around food. Anne told me after this buffet they were planning to go to another restaurant for dessert and coffee. At the restaurant the waiter explained us how this buffet worked. The price was like 22$ plus taxes and tips. As pseudo vegetarian I am, the only thing I could eat was salad, pasta salad, French fries and fish. You see, vegetarians can be fat too. I just asked for water while the girls asked for margarita or juice or something funny. The drinks were over 6$. My mind was trying to calculate her invoices. I was nervous because the night was just starting and my hypothetical invoice was getting bigger. At the table I was in front of Anne, she was very nice and I interviewed her. She wasn’t married and didn’t believe on marriage as all good Quebecquer woman, she had a son of 17, she works as teacher for special kids and is 39 just like me. Fatima told me she was married with one young kid and she worked as cleaner with Suzanne. Yes, they were cleaners. I was surprised and they weren’t ashamed. The chubby vegan…I don’t remember what she does for living…it doesn’t matter.

I ate so much cold pasta and so much warm fries that my body was shaking …I was feeling cold, I had to ask for tea. The girls asked for coffee, after they complained the coffee was too strong, black as petrol.I was too full that I thought I would bounce and not walking. Another girl was supposed to join us, her name was Sarah. Anyways, we finished our meal…my final invoice was 27.66$ plus 3$ of tip, the tea wasn’t included in the buffet price. So the other girls I calculated with taxes and tips almost 40$.

Now, the girls wanted to dance…and I wanted to go home to sleep. It was not even 9.30pm and I asked Suzanne where we should go. She said Sarah told her the Velvet Room was a good discotheque…but…where’s Sarah? I asked to call her about the venue, after all, it was planned she would join us there. Suzanne phoned her and she discovered due to renovations she was doing at her place, she wouldn’t come. It was -6C, cold and windy, we were like penguins, in a circle trying to keep us warm. I was kind of furious that Sarah suggests a place and after to find out she wouldn’t come, plus, she never called to tell us that. So we decided to go to Velvet Room, and there was a line up, so, the bouncer said the disco will open in 20 minutes. We stayed there for at least 10 min, we couldn’t resist the cold and we went to another cafe for drinking something hot and wait those 20 min. I bought a tea…2.5$. After those 20 min, we went to the disco again…and the bouncer again said “open in another 10 min”. So we went again to that little cafe where Obama once bought some cookies.The tv’s inside were playing (because they recorded) when Obama arrived and all the incidents outside Parliament Hill over and over again. After the 10 min we went again to the disco. This time people who arrived later than us, were getting inside…apparently there was a list…were people could enter before anybody else. Fatima said “come on, this is Ottawa”. I don’t know what she meant with that. that Ottawa is boring and isn’t New York? or we were just a bunch of multicultural group not beautiful dreaming to go to an ordinary disco where Sarah was supposed to go with us (after all it was her idea and recommendation and never showed up). So Fatima was upset and they decided to go to….Caliente…a latino disco, that to be honest, I didn’t know that existed.

So, when we went inside, the bouncer looked Anne and said “you can go”, he looked at me and said “ID please”. What? Me? ID? Do I have baby face or what? I’m almost 39, I didn’t know if I should feel flattered or insulted. Anyways, we paid for the entrance 8$, inside I didn’t buy any drink, later I discovered a bottle of water was 4$.

You know my music taste, I like alternative, rock, punk, metal….and there I was. The DJ was playing, salsa, reggeaton, merengue etc etc. And even if I hated that music when I was in Peru, where it was so popular, I was happy too hear those melodies. My friends at the university told me I used to dance my own style…salsa punk. Anyway, there I was dancing or moving, the girls were moving too, it was cool, just the vegan chubby was kind of bored…but who cares, at this point of the night nobody cared. There were some orgies at the dance floor, couple kissing and robbing her legs against each other, no shame at all, as good latinos. Latino cougars in her 50’s trying to get somebody hot and younger and old men trying to look cool wearing their bluetooth on their ears. There was one Canadian guy who danced like a butterfly having a seizure. Later on, that guy asked to dance with him…no way, another guy who also tried to dance with Fatima without success asked me to dance….what? Doesn’t look like I’m gay? Well, for latino men, there are no lesbians, they’re so closed minded they can’t imagine that. The Vegan was getting more and more annoyed, I was tired and the dance floor smelled sweat. We left around 1 am, the girls drove to my parking spot and the night was over around 2am at my place.

I was glad to go out…but I think in a latino disco, I won’t find the love of my life….it was a bit discouraging that latino patterns repeat and repeat everywhere…I feel outsider inside my own community….but definitely I’m not and I don’t want to be like them…and all that conclusion for the price of 41.16$, my phone invoice is 34$ and my internet 47$.

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How to Be Fashion Victim And Be Ugly Trying To

I had such a bad luck with my beloved black pants. The zipper broke and since I live in this part of Ottawa I didn’t know where to do some alterations. Before, when I was living in Gatineau, my landlord was a tailor, so no problems with legged pants or little holes in my clothes. But I can’t go that far for a zipper. So, near my apart there is a laundry and a Chinese tailor fixed my problem for 12$. Usually I paid like 7$ for a second hand pants, you can see it was kind of expensive.

So I decided to do some shopping this morning…in Ottawa there is a big shopping center Rideau Center, which is not like going to Sunset Boulevard or going to Montreal, it’s more third world with little stores in order…with nothing really extraordinary. I went to Le Château, very fashion if you weight like 50kg but is good for people working in big business companies, nobody at the government wear those clothes.I went to Aldo looking for some bracelets…nothing like Catholic accessories that now are fashionable since the Pope was elected. I went to Lacoste. Nothing for me, I mean, I was looking for black pants remember that. What I like about Lacoste are their bags…but this time, not even a Kindergarden student would agree to have one of them. The colors are like Fisher Price toys and for 1 ordinary bag the price was like 200$ no way.I went to other little stores without luck. I went to Old Navy, looking for some t-shirts…geeez…high school style with flashy fluorescent colors like in the 80’s. There wasn’t much left after those stores. I went to Giant Tiger, a cheap store and there I found a good pair of pants but not black, too small for me but really classy, I mean it, classy office style. And when I thought everything was lost, I went to an Italian grocery store and I found Olive extra virgin oil 3 litres for 12$, that was the deal for going to downtown.

So, I decided to go to College Square, a shopping center near my place. I went to Dynamo, I remember I bought a pair of pants from the second hand store and I really loved it. When I arrived people were able to help me but…the sizes were from 0 to 7. When I wear jeans I’m 28 or 30 but apparently I’m to fat for those sizes. There wasn’t 9 and the models had no pockets (how come??!!). I went to Guess, well, that’s more for teenager and I decided I needed some jeans…there was a special of 40% off….of jeans of 200$ and ugly. But when I looked in the men’s section the same, 40% off and jeans of 40$…something is wrong here, can you see it? I went to another Aldo, nothing, nothing, nothing nice, only shoes so colorful that a drag queen would be tempted to wear them. I went to Tommy Hilfiger…geeez….even clothes for kids and toddler are over 60$….and for women the quality is so bad. Prices are over rated. I know you pay for the brand but come on…at least if clothes were beautiful or more..I don’t know, more … more….something. I bought a blouse in the second hand store, the colors were ok but I bought it because it was brand new and I paid 6$. I went to Jacob, the pants were so stretch and 80$, the tissue very bad quality, after one wash your pants are done….I bought 5 years ago a beautiful one and after his torture in the washing machine…was useless…

And then…it happens the worst. My hair was a bit longer, so I decided just to cut some centimeters my fringe with scissors …wrong, wrong…I looked like a dyke of the 80’s, short hair in the front, long everywhere….horrible, I needed an urgent solution…the clipper. Well, I got a clipper for my cat’s hair but I tried to cut my hair (like before) just this time probabilities to make more damage were over 200%. I just cut some little hair and I decided to go out and look for a hairdresser…on Sunday…almost 4 pm…good luck. I went to where I  did my haircut,a  Russian woman did a regular job. When I arrived it was 4.22pm, I saw her through the windows cleaning and closing down the store…I jumped in to the car and I remember Walmart has a hairdresser. I arrived and parked in front to another hairdresser in the same complex where Walmart is…..it was closed….with panic I went inside Walmart expecting the worse…and not….it was open, the hairdresser was open. 2 Chinese or Asian women were there and I was the last customer because they close at 5pm. So, she asked me what I wanted, so, layers I guess and she did….a regular job. At least she didn’t ask me question and didn’t try to be social….I just didn’t want to look ugly. In fact, my face is round, so, no matter what I do with my hair, will be ugly, I think is the part of my body I hate the most….I really hate, I can’t shave it because I’ll look I got a big head….well, after taking a short shower her job looks not that bad, a bit better than the Russian did. I put some gel and it really doesn’t look that bad…

Really, to be fashion in Ottawa is another challenge…I will tell you later what happened when I tried to put another add for meeting people…more anthropology coming soon.

Women International Day (Or How to Choose Your Next Girlfriend)

I’ve been very tired…so tired, half slept at work, no motivation at all and plus…I had to be witness of the most scariest request from myself….I never sat on a bench and wrote what I wanted from a woman…not until last week.

But before telling you my surrealistic concerns and requests that I wish I could find in a woman, in 2013, in this planet, at this moment of my life …let me tell you what happened at the Women International Day here in Ottawa. I went to Church for that service. I was expecting a x-ray of the women around the world, not only lesbians but every single woman and girl. I guess I shouldn’t been shock of the Canadian-Ottawa way to say things, here’s the formula:

Positive facts+non mentioning sad or dramatic issues/beautiful testimonies= happy end.

The service was basically testimonies of how women were important in their lives, how some of them had to fight for education, or I don’t know, asking people among the crowd positives facts about women (specially their own mothers). I was upset, nobody said anything about the rape of that poor woman in India, the riots because of that, the same week of this important day, a girl also from India of 7 years old was raped, the women’s condition around the world, abuse, arrangement marriages, lack of education, restrictions at workplaces etc etc etc….things we see or we lived or will see again and again on tv or in our streets. One of the testimonies given from a black woman dared shyly and touched a super underestimated subject. She said: “history is written by the winners”…it was ironic, very ironic…they were writing oral history at the service…they were avoiding issues, not mentioning facts, just showing the nice and positives things…enough, I have enough, did you hear me? ENOUGH. I left in that moment, super upset…mad, I see things on online newspapers, it seems nobody sees the same things or are they consciously blind? or worst…since they winner writes the history, they educate how to express and learn to new generation this silence-blind consciousness and  this create a self-censorship…in all spheres. I don’t remember been that furious….and it’s not only in my congregation…it’s in all Ottawa.

I decided to change my ideas and I went to my 3rd play in a small theater about 3 families in 3 different Christmas….again, a comedy. I didn’t like it at all. Then I checked all the plays available in town online …all comedies I’d say 90% are comedies…not even a single drama, not a classic of Shakespeare…nothing…people want to laugh, the market’s rule: Ottawa want’s to close its eyes…and not to see the ugly true…And I got the impression to have my eyes too open for its standards…too wide open it

Back at home, with anger in my heart and tears in my eyes, I decided to write what I need, or the person should be able to heal and provide those needs I request: she should be intelligent, intellectual, responsible, open minded, spiritual, take care of herself, independent, grounded, artistic, easy going, not picky, with initiative, supportive and with social consciousness…ok, ok, ok., that woman doesn’t exist or probably hasn’t born yet…and I didn’t mention beauty…so …when I finished to do this list, I thought of my American lesbian friend who’s boyfriend, a transsexual FTM and I asked to myself how can they be together despite, the boyfriend, I should say more a butch is not precisely the model of beauty or intelligence. The question that popped up was: Why ugly butches got pretty and nice women? How can they find girlfriends relatively easy. Is it sex? self-confidence? personality? charisma? strong personality? activities? what? but WHAT!!! My few friends at church say I’m social but I always leave the places with empty hands.Then I remember “The L Word” when Alice made a web of ex girlfriends…and then I thought of the friendship algorithm of Sheldon at “The Big Bang Theory” and its endless loop. Two different realities, too similar too dichotomous.

At the same time, when I imagine to have a girlfriend I got scared. First I think I’m going to lose myself in that famous fusion lesbo destruction known in lesbian couples. I don’t know how to have space and leave the other her space. I’m scared to invade and to be invaded. Scared to be dependent, to wait at night until she comes back from work…to be with her in an oasis of happiness that 5 minutes on a couch can offer…not avoiding topics like who’s responsible of groceries, who’s going to pay this or that bill, health issues. Or worse than that, avoiding that your couple doesn’t help you to grow up as a person, not able to listen to you or nor able to talk to her as adult…talking about future, buying a house, how to pay the mortgage, or sleeping beside her not able to reach her….thinking you’re losing her…because of work or differences….what about future? children? what happens when one pushes the other to adoption or pregnancy when she doesn’t want to or feels she’s not ready for that step. How you deal with your insecurities? frustrations? indecision inside the couple? What if you stay with her because you believe there’s nobody else for you….what if you stay just because you don’t want to be alone or because dating again at your age is discouraging…what if you’re avoiding the reality she is not for you. Where is love after all those questions? It sounds is more an ideal than a reality. You see, the couple seems more a ideological battle camp.

Two nights ago I had my 4 erotic dream in my life. I was having sex with a very beautiful woman…I just remember some details, her hair color, her smile, her lips and her breast…instead of waking up with a huge smile I just felt totally crashed…like in the cartoons, a little person walking on the street and suddenly a big piano falls over him. I woke up almost with a drown cry, like my heart was hearth beating for nothing…like there was not essence anywhere, like oxygen wasn’t enough for breading…with a war cry wanting to leave my chest but then…..just silence…just nobody to hear, nobody to talk…no even tears were able to leave my eyes….just another zombie in the building…heading work again…earning money…paying bills, doing some activities, some groceries…the living dead…you can’t imagine how painful can be the silence, how painful can be when you see things while the others ignore them and I cannot imagine all the silence and blindness living in a couple.

Singing and Decoding “Who’s Gona Save My Soul” Song

What happened this week? To be honest, I didn’t feel that proud of not saying thanks to the doctor’s assistant, it’s not my nature…but I hate to be waiting for nothing or being ignored at the waiting room with future mommies with gigantic bellies texting every single second. I did my groceries…I spent like 25$, which means my fridge was totally empty, some agonizing sad bread slices, baby tomatoes completely dried, 1 orange, some eggs, 1 lt of milk and 2 onions…poor fridge…but that gave time to do some archaeology and throw some Paleolithic food into the garbage…that old  my rotten food was. What I was eating? Crap, of course, like chips and things like that, nothing to be ashamed of but nothing to be proud either.

I went this morning to grief group. I almost didn’t make it, my tummy is hurting me because of shoveling too much, I’m not supposed to do it after an hysterectomy. Despite I lost my uterus I didn’t lose my ovaries, so that means, hormones work very well, so well, I feel down. It’s been a while since I didn’t eat ice cream (my natural anti-depressor drug), I really didn’t want to go. What for? I pushed myself to start the day as usual, preparing my lunch of the week and then I left for the meeting.

Just when I was waiting for the rest of members, Colleen, the pushy lesbian said hi to me, and asked me how I was. I said “fine”, she said she came for another activity and left without saying good bye or turning her back or nothing else. I was too tired to tell something sarcastic like “bye” or “have a nice day”. Two new people came to the group. This time the Kleenex was highly required. People crying for their lost and showing angry. The new member lost his wife 1 week ago, the other lost her son 2 years ago. At some point I was tired to see and listening the same people crying or upset, specially Sharleen who is totally aggressive and takes all the space in the group. So far, nobody has died in my family, I said to the new members, but my father is starting Alzheimer, doesn’t remember things, confuses other things and asks 7 times the same question….I lost my best friend, I lost my father, I lost my guide, I lost the most beloved person on this earth but….he is still alive…somehow is dead, or at least his memory,  somehow when he came last year I became like his mother….so hard, so heart breaking…impossible to talk to him about simple things or have a normal conversation…when I talk to him on the phone makes me feel more alone than usual, reason why I don’t call him often like before.

After listening Sharleen talking all the time “when Michael died..my daughter…me…you know….” her voice became more soprano and started to cry adding all the time “you know…” and then a hysterical laugh that creeps all my body…like she was one pervert character of Poe’s tales…just awful…I feel mentally ill when I’m around her…Sundays at church I just try to get away from her. I’m not saying “hey, get over it right away” I’m just saying when one person takes all the space is too heavy after 2 hours, plus, some other people crying and suffering for the people they lost. When I entered to this group it was to grief my father’s illness but also my ex relationship, I don’t feel the space for that since there are too many dead corpses in the room, talking about my ex-bitch and daddy it doesn’t fit too much there. And it’s sad but… I don’t feel the space for that and I’m not in the mood of fighting for having 1min 30 secs of listening.

I sent a link to Ellen, one of the leaders of the group about a break-up video. She replied “I’m thinking if you felt that way”…I got shocked…and then I realized she was right. It was a video from Gnarls Barkley, one of the actress in the video played in “Pariah” the lesbian movie that you should watch. Anyways, I play that video and I confirm the things usually the person who is left behind feels like…”every person I’ll meet be meticulously compared to you”, ” I got an empty cavity…technically I’m heartless”…and the things the girl says it’s almost what my ex said just more violent. Watch the video and decide yourself 

On the other hand, a new lesbian movie will be released soon. What’s special about this “new” movie? Well, it’s about an elderly lesbian American couple who go to Canada to get legally married.. When I sent it to my American friend, also in the grief group, who’s lesbian she replied my email 2 days later saying…”we should go with LGBT welcoming group from Church, Colleen and Heidi”. I was furious, Colleen? the woman who leaves without saying bye, the woman who was so pushy for going to LGBT potluck and I had to give all my private suffering in order to she left me alone? Heidi? She barely speaks to me and she is such a bitch when she wants…I said to my friend “do whatever you want with the movie” . It’s out of the question I’ll go to the cinema with them. Watching a movie for me, it’s like masturbation: you do it alone for your own pleasure. I don’t go very often to cinema because all the movies are from Hollywood, I watch more European stuff which is great and is always on DVD’s. Not because there’s a gay movie on the market it means I’ll go. I watch movies that are different, no mainstream, from other cultures to learn, not to get trapped in the fantasy or in a boring happy end. Even Orson Wells hated happy endings, life is not like that. But the point is I won’t go if I’m invited, and I don’t think I’ll be invited. Last time I went to see Django hoping American cinema won’t be that predictable…guess what…I was wrong…again.