Everything yesterday was perfuck. Everything. Well, except the moment in the ceremony when I got all confused with the switching of their crowns... (it's a Greek thing). Tenis was stunningly beautiful. The only time she cried was when she spoke about me and I found that to be a tremendous honour to our relationship. When I handed her off to the Hub (he's not a Beyoncé anymore!), she yelled out my name and wanted a filaki which means kiss in Greek. All the stress and mayhem leading up to yesterday was totally worth it when I saw her happiness.
Everyone I spoke to mentioned that it was the most beautiful wedding they had attended. Of course they would say that, but I genuinely believe that everyone had a really great experience. The food was delish, the venue was outstanding and there was nothing ostentatious or pretentious about it. Also, there we many people from out of town and since the weather has been fab, they got a fantastic Toronto experience.
I became intensely emotional for numerous reasons: my father's absence, my sister's imminent absence, concern for my mom, etc.. Walking her down the aisle especially threw my emotions into chaos. All of this made it impossible for me to comfortably make a speech, which Tenis was fine with. Instead, I toasted the newlyweds and our families and invited everyone to speak to me individually if they wanted.
All in all, it was a fantastic day... absolutely beautiful and tasteful. Hello- I was a consultant, so of course if would be ideal. I look gorgeous in a tux.
My sister's wedding is tomorrow. My fear of public speaking has increased exponentially in the past couple of days, but I think I'll manage with the speech. Yesterday at the rehearsal, I seriously had to focus on keeping it together when I walked her down the aisle. As much as I may gripe about her annoying habits, I love that girl enormously. Nevertheless, I will feel a great sense of relief when this is all over.
I love visiting Europe. However, there are moments, as this clip will illustrate, when Europe bewilders me. What I find even more fascinating is the aura of cultural superiority that Europeans maintain vis-a-vis Canada. Now, I know that Eurovision is seen by many in the UK at least as a hilarious contest, but I am quite sure that our Lithuanian friends found absolutely zero irony in their ridiculous performance. It's totally cringe-worthy, folks. Enjoy.
ADDENDUM: This reminds me of another fantastic European performance.
Tomorrow, since it's Victoria Day and all, there will be fireworks going off across the city. Très exciting. I have demanded that the Boyf and I partake in one of the big displays because he has been absolutely obsessed with his new flat lately. This has meant that we have spent the bulk of the past three (!) weeks holed up at his place while he shifts furniture mere centimetres. I have heard "does this look better over here?" at least 896 times. After his interior design / handyman frenzies, he is tired and boring. Dry humping on his couch is not cutting it in the romance/sex department and I think we need an external stimulus to help snap him out of his OCD. What could be better than an evening picnic on the beach with a strategically placed towel and fireworks going off over our heads... heads that hopefully will be getting, not going, off? Or at minimum heavily making out. He's excited at the prospect as well. Sounds like a winner to me.
I ordered a book on Jean Cocteau the other day and it arrived this morning. I think everyone should know who this man is... truly one of the most interesting figures of the 20th century. He was a poet, filmmaker, novelist, reformed opium addict, essayist, dramatist, illustrator and artist. Plus, he was openly gay in 30s. And, he helped numerous people he judged to have talent pursue their passions. He completely lived a full life on his terms and was totally immersed in creativity.
I've often thought that homos are disproprtionately artistic (it's not just a stereotype) because of the psycho-social conflict some experience towards their sexuality and/or because their art becomes a surrogate for biological procreation by creating a piece of themselves that will outlive their mortal selves. Well, that and the more cohesively integrated "feminine" and "male" aspects of humanity that homos frequently to possess. Genet and his theories...
To wrap it up... Jean Cocteau: An all around model citizen in Genetland.
My sister's wedding is less than two weeks away and I haven't really started writing my speech. I am procrastinating because I deeply dislike public speaking. Ideally, my speech would be three words long or, I would make it from the bathroom with my disembodied voice beaming into the dining room like God. I have a vague idea of what I want to say, but it really is time to get cracking here. Ugh.
... my new fuck. This is Paul Robinson, England's goalkeeper for the World Cup. I think. Who cares? LOOK AT HIM. Looking at him, I could have just populated a small country, but instead I'm just sticky all over. Mmmmmmmmm......... This makes me very excited about my upcoming visit to England. If this is what I can look forward to, I'm going to come back in 17 satisfied pieces.
I sometimes toy with the idea of breaking up with the Boyf. Although I love him and feel deeply connected to him, I occassionally long for something new. This feeling isn't really concrete but more fleeting and transient. When I really think about it, I would never trade the emotional intimacy we have for anything. I would also dread "dating".
A song by Final Fantasy (I love this "band" so much) perfectly delineates the trials of contemporary dating. It may seem pessimistic, but I think it is mostly apt. Despite our loneliness, we find a million ways to complicate relationships and further our insecurities. When I hear this song I am happy that I have the Boyf and all the people that I love in my life and I also think that humans are very stupid, sad and small animals that waste loads of energy and time on garbage. The song is called Arctic Circle (click to listen). Here are the lyrics:
She drives a little white car to the seminar on Modern Romance Possible possible ideas for a date include... a shooting range And her chest is full to bursting with thoughts of an evening Nobody nobody nobody will ever know her longing She's got a heart that will never melt She's got a heart that will never melt
Shields up! Shields up! Bar the door, and keep your dukes up! Tell lies, tell dirty lies, tell diggory lies, until you're lying in his bed
He has a tendency, a tendency to fall for shining eyes and baby fat But the quarry don't share his taste for Anne McCaffrey And he dresses alright but the conversation is wrong, all wrong Nobody nobody nobody will ever know his longing He's got a heart that will never melt He's got a heart that will never melt
Shields up! Shields up! Bar the door, and keep your dukes up! Tell lies, tell diggory lies, tell chiggery lies, until you're lying in his bed
Now you can endure the fear now you can endure the hell Now you can endure the lies now you can endure the fear
For the past month or so, I have been getting phone calls from a former... something of mine... can't quite call him a boyfriend, but he wasn't just a hump either. His name will be Lusto. His recent reappearance has been mildly traumatic. We parted on bad terms two years ago and I don't want much to do with him, but I am curious to see him and I have always been very attracted to him.
Lusto and I go way back, back to high school in fact. He was a hooligan skater and hasn't really changed much since then, except that now he's a carpenter as well. We met up again a few years later and had a sexual and emotional relationship that was incredibly convoluted, lasting nearly 5 years. All the while, Lusto was engaged to a woman and I think might still be. Lusto was also a tormented soul who began abusing drugs. Nasty drugs. Not a good scene. It was a dramatic relationship, full of surreal adventures. I should share some sometime.
The last time I saw him was the night I met the Boyf. At that point, I had had enough of his shenanigans and my lust for him had dwindled as well. I haven't thought of him all that much since then. Until now, that is. Now, I must decide if I meet up with Lusto or leave well enough alone. It seems like a simple decision, but that boy does something to me... it's like witchcraft, I tells ya...
I love Queen West, the whole lengthy stretch of it. Probably always will. Even the hipsters don't diminish my love for it. There are very few places on Earth where a large elephant and Adidas would be casually suspended above the sidewalk for no apparent reason. Conceptual art, perhaps? I just appreciate the randomness of it. And what is that coming out of the elephant's ass? A saxophone? How 80s! Hopefully, he ate Kenny G.
I know that in some places, sneakers are hung on electrical wires above a crack-house to denote its presence to clients, but this doesn't seem to be the case here. Unless crack dealers have gotten really creative and have taken the elephant as their new inconspicuous logo. Trunk... snorting drugs...? I'm really going off on a tangent here ...
Environment Canada says that Southern Ontario will enjoy a hot, dry summer this year. I can live with that. Let's just hope that they are right and we don't get a bullshit summer... Remember that one year when it rained EVERY SINGLE WEEK-END? That was cruel.
That is as profound or interesting I will get today.
Today, I received the latest issue of BUTT Magazine in the mail... Very exciting. BUTT is published in Amsterdam and combines sex and culture in a, let's say, spunky way. Genet likes. It bills itself as a "fantastic magazine for homosexuals" and I couldn't agree more. It makes me think of the not-so-distant past, when homo culture was underground and subversive. In this issue alone we learn about: Julian Ganio (an older-man loving nightclub enthusiast and designer... more on him later + he's the guy on the cover above), artist Bjarne Melgaard's drawings of faggy chihuahuas, an outdoorsy self-sucker from Tennessee and much, much more. Plus, there are lots of nude shots. And it's printed on pink paper. Oh, and their website has a personals section called Buttheads... Sadly, there are few Torontonians to be found and I have the misfortune of knowing one of them. His photograph makes me laugh because he is an idiot and it even comes across in only two-dimensions.
Julian Ganio is not an idiot. I totally have a crush on him, initially because he's a hottie, but after reading the piece on him, he came across as smart, relaxed and interesting- three very attractive qualities. He runs a club night in London... and I'm going to London in August. I want at least a kiss. Too bad I'm not 50, 'cause we would totally be together.
You may remember me mentioning my co-worker Hormonster earlier on the blog. She had a baby in December and now her nickname no longer applies. So, her new name is Rubella.
I bought Rubella's baby a little gift yesterday as Kaseri and I are going to visit her tomorrow. It's an adorable jumper made by... Harley Davidson? Yes, I know it's random, but it added to the cuteness of the outfit.
Went for a spot of shopping today at Winners. I got 6 shirts. This is quite a feat for me because I'm a discerning motherfucker, hence I rarely have the patience to shop. Today, however, I was on a roll. Let me just say that the shirts looked so good that I started dry humping and frenching the changing room mirror and was asked to leave. I joke, but barely. Anyhow, $200 later and I feel like a new man. Just $200 for 6 shirts! Simple pleasures are the way to go, peeps.
I hate to see your broken face this world would give you anything as long as you will want to
I hate your state of hopelessness and that vain articulateness your loser-type wreck wanna-be not a pretty sight really in another world it'd be funny
I hate to see your broken face a lazy life of fatal waste of fashionable cynicism the poison they want you to drink oh no man that's too easy we weren't talking bout happiness apply your leading potential to be useful to this planet the world would give you anything as long as you will want to
There were no "good 'ole days". That was childhood- or more accurately, our memory of childhood. It's over. It wasn't a cohesive, universal historical era, it was a certain period in all of our individual lives. For the majority of us, our introduction to life is gentle. We are given a certain amount of time to enjoy ourselves in blissful quasi-ignorance while we almost imperceptibly begin to learn how to function within ourselves and with the various types of people we will inevitably share the planet with. Then, we begin to evolve into full-fledged, complex individuals whose past and present shape our future. For those of us living in pluralistic, democratic societies, this process is virtually boundless. In general, if you're a decent person without malicious intent, you can do pretty much anything you want. And it is this very fact that allows me to be a realist and simultaneously cautiously optimistic about our world.
Undoubtedly, the world has become more complex than it was, say, in 1650. Yes, we have developed the capacity to destroy the planet relatively easily. However, I think it is important to note that a for someone living in the 17th century, the world was an infinitely smaller place in every way- the physical "world" for the average person was essentially their immediate vicinity perhaps more importantly, their psychological world was largely pre-determined, through religion, class, gender, etc..
The fact that we have created a rather precise vocabulary of self-definition is a beautiful thing. Being a homo, I am intimately aware of this and am conscious of the fact that the word homosexual did not exist until the 19th century. My sexual identity is not confined to a sexual behaviour, but rather, informs multiple aspects of my being. Same with my Greek-Canadian heritage and the million other things that constitute me. The fact that we can now create, shape and determine our selves is enormously important to me.
The world has always had a shitty side. Our age is no different, but the stakes are higher. On an individual level, however, humans have never had it this good. When we think of the past, we are primarily relating to it through notable "events" and consequently, become distanced from the mundane aspects of daily life. The truth is that much of society hasn't changed that much since the dawn of civilization. However, we now have the knowledge, resources, numbers and mentality to see beyond survival and strive towards betterment. Again, this is where the optimism arises- if you don't like something, try to change it, remove yourself from it, ignore it or whatever. The fact that we have choices is hugely important. The fact that we collectively know enough about the world to be able to discuss complex issues is also hugely important.
Life before the 20th century was not fun. The 20th century brought both horror and greatness. I think that the good outweighed the bad. In saying this, I recognize that I am speaking from a Western point of view, but alas, this is the only view I can say I know.
Basically, I am very happy that I can create my identity on my terms, that I live a largely healthy and comfortable life and that I am aware of the general state of the human race. I think that is much more preferable to being an illiterate peasant toiling incessantly to merely survive and having an entire planet doing the same thing in largely isolated pockets.
Like the lyrics above say I'm not talking about happiness and we are all a mess, personally and collectively. But at least we know that there is a personal and a collective and that they are messes. Truly, "knowing is half the battle". I cannot believe that I seriously quoted GI Joe, but he's spot on. And he'd probably be hot if he were human.
Last night, I learned that my summer trip to Angleterre is going to incorporate some business meetings in London. This is fantastic news. Although the industry I work in employs large numbers of nippledicks, there are also many very cool people. The hope is that I can do the business lunch thing at restaurants I couldn't hope to afford on my own, meet said cool people and charm them into taking me out for a night on the town.
I'm willing to pimp myself out at the best of times and especially when travelling. And even more so in England... I've spent enough time there to be seriously apprehensive about the cost of everything in that country. So, for any Brits out there, you can have my ass/whatever in return for a memorable meal and/or conversation/night out... or even a Whopper, really. You'll enjoy it. I have references.
In all seriousness (and I know this may make me sound slightly immature), I find the idea that I am sort of going on a "business trip" cool.
I promise not to use the word cool in any context in the next 5 posts.
NOTE: My next post will see me waxing philosophical. Stay tuned.
The man that owns the deli across the street is genuinely nice, especially considering how frantically packed the place gets. However, he is also the perfect illustration of what I meant when I said that Greeks can have evil eyes. His eyes are so deep-set that they look like tiny embers in a very large cave. He is slightly hunch-backed and almost always grumpy, with the requisite Greek accent. All these factors have led us to ingeniously name him Count Souvlakula.
So, no great insights in this post, just a random observation... I'm still light-headed from the illness, so give me time to fully recover.
By the way, next time you're at a Greek resto, ask for malakia sauce instead of tzatziki... guaranteed laughs.
I was possibly a bit ambitious in going to work today. Around noon, I started feeling wonky, but had finished working through my pile of paperwork and was outta there by 2. It is such a gorgeous day that I was tempted to head over to Kensington Market instead of heading home... it's my favourite part of the city. For those non-Torontonians, it's a neighbourhood of narrow streets crammed with shops selling everything. I could have grabbed a coffee at the corner hut, wandered around in the sun, picked up some vintage clothes... whatever. It's just the perfect neighbourhood to hang out in on a day like today.
But, I seriously felt crap- so abnormally crap, in fact, that I haven't been horny in days. So, instead, I am in a dark basement, swathed in blankies and writing this. Boring.
Somebody programmed the electronic scrolling display on-board some GO trains (local commuter trains in the Toronto area) to read "Stephen Harper eats babies". One passanger that actually worked with Harper told a newspaper: "I worked with Stephen Harper for five years and never once did he, in that time, eat a baby".
I did watch one entertaining show last night which explained what 'the rapture' is. Apparently, upwards of 70 million Americans (and many others, of course) believe that if they accept Christ into their hearts (read: are "saved"), they will be beamed up to heaven and spared the 7 year reign of the Anti-Christ. You could be a murderer (not sure about gay), but as long as you've got a bit of Jesus in ya, you're OK. That sentence sorta rhymed. The rest of us heathens will be ominously 'left behind'. Unsurprisingly, a large number of these mystics are also Christian fundamentalists. There is no reference to this rapture in the Bible, mind you, but that's irrelevant even though I genuinely have never heard so many people interpret the Bible or any other text as literally as these peeps. And their interpretation is rigid and immature. It would be funny if they weren't as politically powerful as they are. Actually, it's still funny.
In news closer to home and of a far more practical nature, Harpoon's first budget comes down today. Let's hope that he isn't a total idiot.
Kudos to all the protesters in the States today. Maybe this will allow the reality of the immigration situation in the US be heard through all the hyperbole. While I may not be American, it is obvious to any logical person that moves to make these illegal immigrants felons is implausible, ignorant and cruel.
On the Genet front: still sick, still sleeping. But, I just got a call from some guy that found my phone! I will happily give him a thank you blow. Yay!!!
