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.

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There is Candy for Everyone

It has been like 2 weeks since I had my first hypnosis. I’m training at the gym too for almost 3 weeks. Also, there has been like 3 weeks since I spoke with the Medium woman about my future. Just after meeting her I went to the gym and I started to run on the treadmill thinking and thinking and rethinking in several ways, up and down, right to left, North to South… thinking about she said “you’re attracted to violent relationships”, “you got a problem of dependency” …all those ideas were on my mind when I was running and walking. I tried to do 2 km almost every day (I don’t go to the gym when I got my night classes at college). It’s already June and her words are still resounding on my ears…

Just 2 weeks I had my second “girls night out with a camouflaged dyke”. It was awesome. I went with Suzanne, Fatima 1, Fatima 2 (Suz’s cousin) and Anne to the Beer Festival in Gatineau, the weather was crappy as hell, we bought our tickets and then somebody decided to go to a restaurant for dinner….yes, dinner at 5pm, not hungry at all and after a workout at the gym…I wasn’t that happy about it but well, no choice. We went to The Green Papaya, in front of Civilization Museum. The decoration was…like going to a meditation gastronomic spa. Relaxing music, Buddhas everywhere in all the position available, Nirvana, Lotus, stand up, golden, silver, small, big, even in the bathroom there was a Buddha too, with other Indian deities. It was fancy and the food….I wasn’t expecting that much but I must say food was outstanding, service too  The new person in the group was Fatima 2. When I asked what she does for living she said “I’m a pole dancer”. I knew she was kidding but I just  followed the flow. At some point Fatima 2 was worried because I seemed to believe what she said. We had a nice chat, talking about Portuguese drama (that looks like Greek drama), about parents and of course, about my session with the Medium. Fatima 1 is still scare to call her and set up an appointment.

We left the restaurant heading the beer festival. They were selling little  glasses at $2 each. Somebody invited me a glass…awful, I don’t like beer but those are the social thing you must do it in order to fit in a group and not to be excluded.  I was taking pictures as a Chinese tourist. I took a picture even of Fatima 1 and Suz’s butties, well, they asked me to! We stayed there for 1 hour and the girls decided after this small digestion to have dessert, so we went to St Hubert. In our way we were talking non sense, making jokes and Ann was laughing about Portuguese prejudice, since most of them were married with Portuguese guys and now they’re separated or divorced (Suz is taking that path too), and Ann added “ok Diana, hold my hand and we’ll say we’re lesbians”. Suzanne didn’t say anything and I was feeling totally uncomfortable, first, because I’m gay and second because I didn’t say to anybody else about this thing…I felt bad and I don’t know when I should do my coming out with them. Then, for killing time, we went to the casino. Fatima 2 played and won like $200, she paid us our drinks. I had more time to talk to her at the bar there. She told me about her ex boyfriend, a control freak, abusive and all the profile of my ex had. She said “when you think you should be dead, you’re in position to take a decision”. So, she left him, Portuguese drama came with it. She told me about her daughter, a teenager with hyperactivity and cognitive problems. I felt sorry at this point, but she seems living her life at least for her, nothing stops her to do that. Her new boyfriend, a Quebecquer guy is a nice man, apparently, well, must be, if that man buys a Celine Dion’s concert ticket to her…it should be a nice man!.

After we went to a disco…Forum, in Gatineau to dance Salsa. Then I realized the Fatima 2’s joke about being pole dancer wasn’t exactly far from reality. Damn, she knows how to dance. Also, she knew so many people in that place. It was a delightful experience to watch her dancing….she was flying… at almost 1 am we were exhausted and decided to leave. I was very happy and almost broke, I spent like $70 that night….too much and Fatima 1 birthday’s is coming soon. Suz told me later that both Fatimas love me!

I went to see Ed, they guy who performed the first hypnosis. I told him, I just felt a kind of anxiety after my quiz at school. He explained me it was kind of normal and he performed again hypnosis on me. This time I was more relaxed….and there were some words that he pronounced that had impact on me like…love and being happy. I told him after about that. He said to not questioning being happy or feel fine, just to live it. Also, he said in a politely way to accept myself as gay. Yes, I’m almost 40 and I don’t feel comfortable or accepting myself as gay. That idea was always present even when I’m training …all those thoughts run with me on the treadmill…all the time. Ed also said “don’t be afraid to be happy,don’t be afraid to lose things,  there will be always candy for everyone”. He was talking metaphorically, he knows, he feels I’m afraid to open myself, to talk to people and of course, to love…and why not, to be loved.

I went to second hand store and I bought the Dead Cab for Cutie cd “Plans”…I’ve always heard that band was a good one…and they were right. I mean, when you drive alone, when sun is just going down, when you want to slow down your pace…that is the soundtrack of your life…I felt numb and calm when I listen to them…beautiful jewel…

I don’t remember if I said I was accepted to the Forensic Accounting and Fraud Investigations program at Algonquin. I was so happy that I called my therapist..well, ex therapist, she is like a mom to me. She was more excited than me and I said “well, they just asked for a recommendation letter from my boss and my diploma from Peru..they want my money after all”, which is true, college doesn’t care about those things, they do the paper work procedure and then…money is there for them. I’ll start this Fall, I’ll take 2 courses, this program is online only. I feel things are moving in slow motion.

I’m not going to the gym today…but even if I’m not in the treadmill those ideas will following me…I’m not running away from them, I run with them….I don’t know what direction I’m taking…I know I want to be happy and I shouldn’t be afraid of.

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.