Drag Queens in Navarra?

I’m drinking my second Cappuccino coffee (a.k.a. French vanilla for the Tim Horton’s Canadian coffee standard). I feel hangover. In fact, I AM. Since I’ve been training, dieting and on top of that, drinking my protein shake after my workout at gym, coffee is out of question…but today is a big exception. I must say the shakes are working. Every glass contains like 60gr of pure protein, I can feel energy and improvement on the treadmill. Also, when you drink that, basically you don’t feel hungry, the liquid stays in your stomach and you got more time to do other things.

But since this week, specially at work, things aren’t going well with me. At work, I’m replacing somebody who took vacations, I’m doing other kind of “new” things . The boss of that section is a fake, chubby, square blond head. Do I hate her? Not yet, but if she dies tomorrow, I won’t cry for her. So, I can quote one of Morrissey’s song “why do I give valuable time to people who don’t care if I live or die?”. That’s my new philosophy. Last Tuesday she sent an email to me and my real boss asking to meet her. So, this is not good. I thought she wanted to complain about my work. I knew she was a bit crazy and obsessive. ok, ok, a real control freak. I work in Finance, so controls and verifications are part of my daily life, but when somebody tries to control ME, that’s different. I’m not an invoice or a fake cheque. I’m not a fishy transaction, I’m kind of transparent. She started saying “I got the impression you hate me”. What? My face was puzzled. “I know you never wanted to come here to work at Section 33, but I noticed in your emails that you don’t feel comfortable here”. OMG. Well, it was true that I never wanted to go there, but I don’t hate her. Once, I went for New Year’s party at the Casino with her. I think I wrote that in my blog like 3 years ago. She is a average Quebecquer, party, traveling to Cuba, resorts, drinking and narrow minded. I didn’t like that time being with her and listening her derogatory comments about gay people at work. Also, her opinions about people from the third world, “indians” as she says…pejorative adjective for us. So…I put big distance between her and me. A healthy distance. I didn’t know she was a boss of Section 33 at the time. But left me a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth…it’s better banning a person like that of your life…but you cannot do that at work. In her micro speech I feel more like her words reflected discomfort with not being obeyed as she liked, it means “What I said must be done the way I say…and my word is law”. Once she told me she was dating a guy who after a while he was stocking her…then she had to put cameras at her place. Also, she told me she had troubles with a big boss I get along. She told she had a grievance…the union was involved too. When I was listening her words in slow motion my mind were on those souvenirs…who was saying the true? who is the real control freak? a person who cannot control anything? a person who needs authority to feel superior? a person with no moral authority but has in fact, authority at work?…for a moment, as you who read this, you realize SHE is not right…nor in what she’s saying neither in her head. So I was there listening….she was psycho but I let it go…no choice, I’m just a clerk, immigrant clerk, so no authority for me, no power for me…no nothing…I tried to comfort her telling her when I work with somebody I took distance (with her is much better, no?) and that was her perception. But know that I’m thinking of that…after that meeting…I think I got reasonable justification to hate her…but I don’t..not yet.

I had my results of my accounting exam. I got 13 of 20, not that bad, not too good either, but is fine. After a tough week I decided a needed a gay break. So, I was thinking to go to a gay drag queen show. So, I contacted a friend of mine and I told him about this idea. He invited me to the restaurant where he works as waiter. He is over 40 and would like to go to school this Fall. He is gay and a nice person. So, I said “why not?” and around 8.30pm I showed up at Navarra restaurant in downtown Ottawa. It’s a little restaurant, cozy and of course, fancy. Prices are….bring your golden credit card. I mean, isn’t cheap but is quality and the presentation is more like painting than cooking. Art. I’m not a person who goes from restaurant from restaurant judging taste and ingredients, I eat because I need to live, I don’t live for eating. Eating for me is an obligation not a pleasure. If I went there was for a glass of wine and….Marion….a hot, afro, jazz singer….OMG, in a little space like that her diva voice was….delightful….I was drinking a glass of white wine…the more alcohol was in my veins…the more I was looking at her body…her breast…her legs…her hair…her lips…ok, ok, ok, hormones quiet, quiet…My friend found me a little red round table…I was just 43 mts away from her. I wasn’t feeling miserable but happy, I wasn’t feeling alone but alive…I was feeling love being single…I was happy with that paradox…I was enjoying that moment…looking at the table in front of me, a French couple trying main dish, desert, wine and more, I was looking another table with a family celebrating a birthday than then, 2 fashion young gays took over later…very fashion and handsome. The other table was taken by 3 Montrealers women…so, they were judging Ottawa and food in a criminal way…judging live to this death to that…it wasn’t pleasant but funny…I was in my wine universe, half here, half…elsewhere….in a  long term bracket of happiness….

It was nice to float in that cloud…must be the Spanish wine…it could have been Marion’s voice…it could have been the people around myself…all of then in their respective universes, sharing, talking, laughing and judging…there were so many people, I even saw two men in a perfect date. My waiter friend was making jokes and we were laughing…we’ll do yoga tomorrow Saturday. I asked him if Marion could sing “Fever”, she couldn’t because the pianist didn’t know that one, so I asked for “Summer time”…and when she sang it she blinked her eye at me….awwwww….my happy heart and my glass of wine were delighted with that gesture…

Since my diet has been liquid, full of proteins I decided to try the food there. So, I asked a dessert. I saw some people eating chocolate mousse…I wanted something different. In fact, I didn’t know what I chose. I couldn’t hear what my friend said about it so I asked Queso Manchego (Manchego cheese). It was a piece of Manchego cheese (that after google it I saw it was made of sheep milk, assuming it was the real thing), Quince confit, pear chutney, candied pistachios, olive oil crostini. This is very Mediterranean  well, the restaurant is a fusion of Spanish-Mexican cuisine…I thought it would cost me a fortune…after my crappy week I think I deserved a big break…my bill was 23$ but since my friend was the waiter…with tip it went to 27$ a bit expensive but…it was just a desert and wine…but full of love.

No drag queens that night, just the best performance of an afro diva, a Manchego cheese disguised for a gastronomical date with me and my beloved waiter that made that night just….full of love…a bracket of love.

The Lesbian and The Pseudo Fashion Cat

Despite all the money I’m investing in health, dental care and physiotherapy, I’m still got some dollars for banalities and probably some frivolities.

I’m still going to the second hand store, this Goodwill one has changed and in my humble opinion, its strategy to get more profit based in order could work…or it couldn’t if you’re not the lucky one. They changed the special sales days. Before it was Friday (or some Fridays) when everything was half price. Now, they divided the week for different categories.  Tuesdays is 50% books, dvd’s and cd’s. Wednesday is 50% cookware and kitchenware, Thursday is 50% shoes and purses. Friday is 50% electrical and sporting goods. Saturday 50% on furniture. I went on Wednesday not remembering the new sales policy and I found something, something really nice. Well, I love bags, despite I don’t travel almost never (ok, never, last time I went on real vacations to Niagara Falls…was in 2008).

I looked at the big or medium size brown with pink lines on it. There were several holes…I thought it was a big bag for bowling balls…but no. Then I realized so many holes is because…it needs aeration…for a pet. Yes, it was  a pet bag…but not an ordinary bag, it was Matt & Nat. This trade mark is made in Montreal. Years and years ago, when I was living in Montreal, I used to look its products at the bag stores in St-Hubert street (most Latinos and Arab business are there). I always thought it was leather, it looked like it, so fancy, so beautiful, so classy and of obviously, so expensive. I never bought one for myself, I’m such an idiot because I bought one to my ex-bitch. Just last year I discovered Matt & Nat is a vegan company, their products are made of recycled plastic, fiber or paper (probably a logical explanation of its high price), you know, you don’t find so many Matt & Nat’s on the street, not in Ottawa.

That Wednesday I just went to the second hand store because I wanted to check some cd’s (despite the sale day was the day before) and when I took a look at the miserable bag section, behind a curtain (then I thought somebody hide it) I found that brown and pink-lined bag…yes…in a second hand store…a real Matt & Nat pet bag. I had my doubts for buying it…”does my cat need it?” I thought…I’ve already bought a pet voyager cage, big and comfortable…but come on, a Matt & Nat bag…she wouldn’t complain. With some doubts I went to front desk for paying. The cashier in the morning is a man in his 50’s with a psycho-motor problem, looks like brain damage did something with his body and muscles, he can talk, I mean, I can understand, sometimes I don’t, walks with difficulties and after his shift he uses his electric wheelchair. He is super nice and he’s always in good spirits, he’s social, we talk sometimes, he makes jokes and me too. Cool person. He started to look for the price, me too, “probably is inside” he said and yes, the price was there…40$ “Oh, that’s expensive” I said, yes, for a second hand bag and then I said “tomorrow is the special half price, I’ll be back tomorrow”. I picked up the bag, I put on the shelf and I went to  the cd section and I found “Buena Vista Social Club” and I bought it.

Today, I went to work as usual, boring and dead as usual, not many invoices these days despite the fiscal year end is coming (in Canada is March 31st), so I left the office at 11.30 and went to the store. From the distance I saw a big bag..and then…OMG, the bag wasn’t there, not anymore. I checked in all shelves, I went to the clothes sections, shoes, painting, kitchenware…nothing, I made a tour like 3 times…nothing again. I was in shock…I was sad…I was almost devastated …my fashion dream, well, not mine, well, mine because it would be for my beloved cat…gone, totally gone.

So, I was walking in slow motion, sad and thinking…”who the hell bought it?”. I went to the cd section and found U2 “The Josua Tree”, I bought it. I went to the front desk, the same guy of yesterday was there, with his big glasses, he smiled and I said “how are you today?”. I said “I’m sad, the bag I wanted to buy yesterday…somebody already took it, did you see somebody with the bag?” He said no, he saw nobody, at least when he was there. He looked at me and he said “Probably is wasn’t mean for you. If you didn’t have it is because something better will come later”, I was surprised of his answer. I said…”yes, maybe”. He added “next time if you see something you really need, you really want it, don’t risk…take it” and added “come the day of the offer not the day before”. At that point, I think this man was giving me a big lesson. Life is full of bags, but also full of opportunities, ideals, people, hopes, expectations. His words could be applied to anything we wanted once and we waited and we couldn’t reach it…for doubts, for fear, for some other silly or realistic situations. That man, that for the law in considered as handicapped or physically challenged gave me a big one lesson…if shouldn’t risk important things …I mean, really important things. The bag is a bag, a nice one, I really wanted it, but well, for a second hand 40$ was too high for me and if somebody else bought it at 20$ today…it was meant for that person and its pet. I got a cage, well, my cat has one…so, in theory, I didn’t need it…but if something nice and bigger is coming…it will come at its time.

I left the store with my U2 cd. I headed work again…the song “but I still haven’t found what I’m looking for” was playing…yes, some things are meant to be in different moments…next time, my bitchy cat will have something fashion…in the meantime, her slave writes in her blog…and waits…a major Winter storm is coming, we expect 15cm or 20cm of snow between tonight and tomorrow all day. I think I’ll take the bus just in case, I live closer to work anyways. And by the way, the real price of that bag in the market was 150$.

Anthropo-Ethnological Shopping Therapy

This morning I just opened the fridge, I picked up my lunch Tupperware, a fruit, I weighted myself (57kg, I lost weight) I took my bag and I gave a kiss to my cat. This is the way how this Friday started.

I drove to the office at 5C, Ottawa is chilly these mornings, I never paid attention in one corner of the building where people cross, I swear I didn’t see the woman dressed in white, but she was upset (with reason) the short I stopped at the stop sign. Well, I can’t make anybody happy lately. I went to my office, I took off my lunch and…OMG, wrong Tupperware, I got all the Quinoa leftovers, my tuna lunch is still in the fridge.Then,  I decided to print a picture of my cat (technicolor), in the pic, my cat is sitting on a white chair and on the top, there’s a scarf that says “Sens Army”. My boss noticed when he arrived (at noon), knowing he would be late this morning, and since the office is pretty quite I did some interesting things.

I read chapter 5 powerpoint slides the teacher gave us last Wednesday, all related to Book Values, Future Value, Interest per Year and learning how to use my financial calculator….awful formulas. I sent an email to the person in charge of program Forensic Accounting, asking him if despite I doing part-time accounting studies I can take 1 course this Winter (apparently you need a degree and have experience auditing). I’m waiting for his answer. I went to the Thriftstore  last time I was on Tuesday but I read the poster saying today was 50% off in everything. My target was the cd collection. I bought Lenny Kravitz “5”, White Zombie “La Sexorcisto”, Batman & Robin OST, Hole “Live through This”, The Verve “Urban Hymns”, Primal Scream “Evil Heat”, Radiohead “Pablo Honey” a latino classic Control Machete “Mucho Barato” where includes the super hit “Comprendes Mendes” and some others. The parking was full and inside the store full of immigrants, kids and many others. There were differences in this shopping 50% off population. Immigrants with kids usually bought clothes in good shape or new, Canadians were carrying cart full of things they probably don’t need like boxes, decor porcelain stuff, jars, margarita cups. Some Canadian mothers were buying clothes too but mixed with toys and kids’ books. The line ups were long, (I spent almost 30min there). In front of me, a mother and her kid were waiting, the kid of about 9 years old was not looking but starring at me. Why? Why always kids look at me like 2.0 version of ET? There was a moment I was tired of his killer look that I said in Spanish “what?” He just didn’t understand (that was the idea) and turned his face, but then, seconds later, he was hiding his look and was still looking at me…I know I’m handsome but not that much.I left just in a rush, since it was almost 11.30am.

I took my grocery list and in fact, I did my shopping without forgetting to take the list with me. However (yes, however), I forgot to buy lettuce even if was written I wasn’t able to read it…..damn…. at the parking lot, just leaving, I put reversed and I didn’t noticed there was already another car trying to leave, and another on the opposite side, and other in the back trying to leave their spots….I almost hit the car beside me, just in time…ouffffff, accidents happen more often in parking lots than in highways. I came back to the office and I ate my almost everything of my Quinoa lunch….too much proteins…scared of consequences now.

It’s 12.27, almost 1pm, I have still a couple of hours before heading my physio again. I’m using a tape on my knee, I feel like a rag doll. I hope Sarah gives the ok just for going 1 per week.

Boxing Days

No, it’s not after Christmas you got the chance to buy cheap stuff…..it’s another Boxing Days…moving is coming. I’m doing boxes for a while, with an injured knee is not an easy task. My tiny apartment looks like when a tornado destroy merciless a small town in Kansas City. I got packed 80% of my stuff….in theory I should start moving July 1st but my new landlord said I can start before, since the actual tenants are moving today. Canada day is the traditional moving day in this country. Leases are done for 1 year starting that date, at lease 70% of population moves exactly the same day. Not very logical before my eyes but after living so long here the most illogical thing became so ordinary to me.

After living 7 years in Québec side, in 2 of them I spent it in a cheap (all senses) region of Hull, Gatineau, I decided it was enough! I speak and write French fluently, very fluently. When I speak English, Ontarians ask me: “do you speak French?” I say “oui” and of course, the opposite reaction happens when I speak in French and Francophones listen to my accent and they, they start speaking to me in English. So, I don`t remember my Hispano accent. It can be more than frustrating as experience, I live that all the time, since Gatineau is in Ontarian border….there is a big difference between those towns…and not only because one is the capital and the other is….a small village.

If you want to drive in Gatineau/Hull, rent a 4X4. There holes in roads like a Gruyere cheese, not even the Moon surface has that amount of irregular holes. Just before a retirement house there was a small hole, the deepness was about a couple of meters down. When they started reparations….a couple of bulldozers came. What started like 50 cm, ended in around 100 meters, a main street blocked, 40 workers taking coffee breaks, you know, professional road work. In fact, if Google could take a close-up of Gatineau roads would look like a crochet patched master piece. But when you cross the bridge….get on your knees and kiss the road. Of course, it’s not every where like that, but believe me, there is a big difference

It’s been 7 years in Quebec without a family doctor, another drama in the province. But a least a got a good mechanic here. I remember when I was in Montreal there were panels saying to keep calm, don’t get aggressive, don’t blame the nurse, be respectful with the personnel bla bla bla, Quebecquers are famous for being a bit aggressive when the service is not good, but super nice when you invited to dinner with good wine and nice meals.

There are lots of pros and cons with the moving. I won’t deny is a scary process. Changing addresses, notify Departments I’m leaving, paying other fees, going to the unknown, new neighborhood, nervous for everything and nothing.

Fat Fitness Business

After checking myself in front of my mirror, and verify my little belly was growing and not due to the Holy Spirit (of the beer spirit) I went to a gym to find out about the membership and more stuff.

I called the gym which is literally just around the corner. When I asked how much the membership cost the girl avoided the question saying they got personalize programs, when I insisted for at least an approximation she said I had to take an appointment with them. Ok, I did the bloody thing she asked me to do. So, I arrived at 6 pm but the appointment was at 6.30 pm, of course, nobody was available to give information. The funny thing about the front desk was a latino girl was there. Her name was written in a little plate: Karla….ordinary name, at must say very latino. She was shorter and skinner than me. Black eyes, black hair…my God, so ordinary, so normal, it was watching a mirror. She had a little accent and of course she recognized my accent too but we didn’t dare to talk about background. So, she told me to wait till 6.30pm which I did and I did some anthropology as well.

The stereotype of a gym is, basically, young people, with tattoos on their arms, low education, working in couples, or, old people fatty and chubby where the gym becomes a meeting point more than an exercise centre. One of them spent the 30 minutes I was there to talk, do little time on 1 machine and asked another girl for a milkshake.

I was standing behind the stairs when that girl told me to sit and wait. I was on the desk and I could play a bit with the computer. I saw several “personalized programs” for loosing weight, transformation, fitness all with a personal trainer. I checked the prices…there were several “levels” or “types” like cooper, silver, golden and more stupid names. The cheapest cost 250$ for 90 days….I found it very expensive.

When Karla arrived after her introduction about the gym, the levels , about the trainers…I wasn’t looking at her, I just wanted to know the price for a normal membership, I mean, you pay, you use the machine, you leave. She was talking about the nutritionist, the program A, B, C, in which one I was interested blah, blah, blah.  I asked directly the price for the normal thing, she pushed me to do a tour of the gym. After seeing futuristic machines I chose just to spaces I was interested. She told, finally, after 30 minutes of chit chat, and even not the real thing, it would cost 20$ every 2 weeks. I asked for 1 month, well, the double she said, after that, she told the price for using all the gym, a bit more expensive, but the membership was for 1 year, just available in that place (because if you wanted other the price raises). She said to bring a check and they take out the money directly from your bank account. Inside of my little head I was freaking out….nobody touches my money, not even my cat.

When I said thanks for the information she said if I wanted to be a member, I said no. I was feeling forced to take the membership, I didn’t feel the programs were personalized, I’d say more like, giving you options that probably they’re trying to sell you as something you really need and is tailored based on your needs.

I left the gym thinking ….probably I should grab a beer…but not, I didn’t I went to shop for wine glasses thinking doing abdominal and push-ups at home would be very helpful. They tried to sell me a false need, tried to impress me with the machines…I went to the same gym in Montreal and the stupid guide said….:”This is the only gym in Montreal with wooden floor and brick walls”…so what? You not need a fashion place to be fitness….you fat moron.

Citizenship

It’s been almost 10 months since I applied for the Canadian citizenship. Last week I received the invitation to pass the citizenship test. The funny thing is, after I applied, one month later, the immigration office sent me the booklet “A look to Canada” and I just read it last week.  I was surprised because I was expecting that letter in May. I heard the process can take 1 year. I was a bit lucky, mine took less than that.citizen5

I talked to my boss for a leave of a couple of hours to pass the test. What a coincidence. She worked before in that office. Well, I left my workstation and I went to the metro station. The wagon doors were closing, as in the tvads, and I passed through then between a narrow space where I could enter. Once there I left at Bonaventure station. I walked down the street and I entered into the office. The security guard asked me for my invitation letter. That was the proof to enter. Inside the hall there were 30 people waiting. At 9.30 a woman came out and asked us to come in to the test room. There, I calculated we were 60. The space was very crowded, it was ridiculous to see big people sat in small chairs.

The woman started to speak us in French and English (the service is always bilingual). It was very funny to hear her horrible accent; she was killing the English language. She told us he had 30 minutes to complete the test. She gave us the answer sheet and the booklet with the questions. I don’t want to be mean or cheap but the booklet was ready to be recycled. It was so old and dirty and then I thought “God, I paid 100$ dollars for the citizenship; I know now where my money doesn’t go”.

citizen2The questions were very simple. Too easy, maybe I failed in one but the rest I’m pretty sure I did it well. I was the third person who finished the test in…let’s say 7 minutes? After that, we went to next room where the ceremony is held but for this time, there were immigration employees asking for some papers like passport and the immigration sheet.

10 minutes later, a woman claimed my name and two others. We followed her outside the room for going to a kind of workstation, just like mine, grey and dirty. The woman asked several question to inform herself and to evaluate my French level. She asked me when I arrived, why I came here and other personal things. I was honest with her. I said I felt in love with someone, that people commit crimes in the name of love. I told her I was sponsored by my ex. Well, I added we were the second gay couple who applied for the migration. Yes, I did my coming out to the employee. After she asked if I wanted to come back to Peru and I told her since my mother knows I’m lesbian is impossible. I told her I worked here in Montreal for the federal government. She replied “you got a good job” I replied “it’s just a contract”. I asked her how long I have to wait for the oath and she said “between 2 and 8 weeks, are you pressed to have the citizenship?” I said no. It was just a question.citizen3

I left the building almost running because I didn’t want to lose my working hours at the office. It took me 1.30 hour the entire trip and the test. When I arrived to the workstation I said to my colleges that I passed. They were happy for me. Chetra told me to go to eat poutine. I said “yes, why not?”. The problem she wanted to have lunch at 11.30, whatever. My boss joined us. When we were at the food court she wanted to pay my poutine. I refused “why, you’re Canadian now?” she said. I just felt bizarre because they’re people who I barely know and they’re very nice with me. Why? My boss asked me personal questions like how many siblings I had, if I had my family here etc. etc. etc. I felt a bit embarrassed. I never met a boss so…closer to their employees. Maybe because she’s pregnant.

I went to the office to continue to work. Just some minutes ago, before leaving for the lunch, she asked me to call her. When I did it I was nervous, she asked me for my test and after knowing everything was great she added my contract was renewed for another month.

Tell me if life is weird.

My Second Time at Drugstore

Finally, I went to a lesbian bar. In fact, is a gay bar but just Fridays there’s a huge quantity of lesbian customers. With a couple of lesbian friends, we decided to go last Friday.

Just to tell you the age of our group was: Marie-Claude (44 with a kid), her girlfriend (or fuck friend) Manon (45), Sylvie (47) and me (34). All of us looked younger, especially Sylvie, I thought she was only 42.

It was 10 pm when we arrived. There were a lot of people. The Drugstore is a building of 4 floors, a couple of balconies, basement and other services like bars, mini-restaurant, pool games and slot machines. The 1st floor, where we stayed for a couple of minutes was full of young women and when I say young I mean under 30 years old. In the 2nd floor, there were women over 40. The 3rd floor is a dance floor. The 4th floor was closed (the balcony).dsc00168

The bouncer was a bit busy with two gays totally drunk. In the dance floor, there was an aboriginal older lesbian, of course drunk too, who was took out because she was having too much fun dancing alone and being a bit violent with other lesbians customers.

After talking a bit in the 1st floor, we decided to go to the dance floor. So, we sat in the bar and you sit, you have to buy something to drink. Knowing the prices are overrated I waited Sylvie for her drink and think about my choice. She bought an Ice Smirnoff, the price: 6.50$ + tip. Well, I’m a fan of Smirnoff but not this time. In fact, I got boxes and boxes of Smirnoff at home because my ex roommate Jérôme left before leaving. So, I saw the screen of the bar computer and there was juice. So, I asked for an orange juice the price: 4$ + tip. The juice longed till midnight!!!.

There were no many girls on the dance floor. It was funny see 5 people (including myself) moving or pretending to dance with the DJ’s 80’s music. I must to admit she wasn’t an excellent DJ. I think the only person who danced decently and in a gay way was the barman. A medium-feminine gay guy. When you’re a boy over 30 with no much hair you shave it, and the barman was one of them. Maybe he was over 40. He dared to jump to the bar and dance yelling as a crazy bitch.

dsc00167Later on, 3 young butch skin head came to the dance floor, when I saw that I was thinking the party was almost over. But they left to the other side of the floor. Ufff, what a relief! After dancing, drinking my juice and sitting, I started to stare at my glass. Marie-Claude’s friend came to ask me if everything was fine. I said yes, some seconds later, other barman came to ask me the same question and I answered with the same monosyllable. I think I looked a bit down but I wasn’t, maybe tired but not depressed. The barman told me usually at 11 pm the dance floor is full of people, that is was rare to be empty like this time. He added “maybe is empty because Britney Spears is in town”. Whatever. Sylvie was a bit frustrated because she’s not really a disco girl and wasn’t able to talk to anybody because of music decibels. She left before midnight. Manon looked more in love than Marie-Claude. She was always behind M-C, caressing her and kissing her gently. I told to M-C she didn’t look very in love with her. She replied after her separation (from a man) “I have no problem to have sex with a woman, but in my mind, to be in couple with a woman is other thing. In my mind is impossible”. To star a relationship with an ex hetero is most of the time complicated. They don’t believe a relationship, family, kids or whatever is possible because of a hetero-normatively which says the only possible way to be in couple is being a man and a woman.

We decided to leave and when we were going down I saw Étienne looking for me. I called him before if he wanted to pass and have a beer with me. He was late as usual, but I was happy to see him. A couple of hours ago I was bothering him telling him he could sell his sperm to the desperate lesbians who want to have babies. I introduced Étienne to my friends and he told me we had seen many beautiful girls in the bar.

M-C and Manon, drove me home and before sleeping I just kissed my cat, wrote a couple of things in my blog and I went to bed thinking it was amazing to have seen many lesbians and not feeling like a freak.