AlyssaV

I fully plan to get 90’s in all ten classes this year (one full-credit class, nine half-credits). however, I’m aware that I have to submit my transcripts to the Masters people in January, which means that my past crappy marks will appear to outweigh my future amazing marks. I have accepted the possibility that I may not get into grad school right away for this reason. therefore, my “plan B” is this:

- get awesome marks
- collect sexy-lookin tax return in april
- work final 2 months at current job
- do J’Explore program in July and August
- optional step: trade in Sunfire for molestor van
- collect a large stack of books in both french and english
- load all important documentation, scans of ID, photo memories, etc, onto huge memory stick
- make notes from this blog entry on how to be homeless
- put shit in storage or in parents’ basement
- take off in September for a North America-wide road trip (basically, until the money runs out)
- find internet café in January to reapply for Master’s program
- get into Master’s program
- return to parents’ home in Ottawa around August
- go back to school!

so after having the Best Weekend Ever, everything else seems pretty dull. especially when you are working midnight shifts and you only see your boyfriend for half an hour a day when you live with him. and the sun is a distant rumour. and it is always cool and dark where you are, like a cellar. and the only people you come in contact with are your five sad and lame macho coworkers who also never see the sun and thus are trying to make up for their lack of serotonin by comparing biceps and holding contests to see who can eat the most Big Macs in one sitting. they wish they could be cops but don’t quite qualify for Cop School. should we give these people guns? ask Stephen Harper.

the only proof I have that it is summer is the vegetation in my garden. huge heads of lettuce, giant herb bushes, tomatoes growing round and pregnant on their vines, zucchini blossoms exploding vibrant orange even at night. oh, and the huge fucking spiders lurking EVERYWHERE at night. because there are no huge fucking spiders waiting to assassinate you in the dead of winter.

not too much is really new. I have a killer year ahead of me, and not in a good way. don’t get me wrong, things are really good because I’ve FINALLY chosen what will happen to me after I FINALLY graduate in 2009, and I know I have the balls to make it happen. it’s just going to be a fuckload of work. I’ve decided I’m going to do my Masters in Public History at Carleton after I’m finished at Brock,. I’ve spent the last week disqualifying myself for any jobs I had previously naïvely applied to, because now I’m getting invited to interviews for work at lonely border crossings in rural Saskatchewan, which is kind of not the plan. I have to take 5.5 credits this year, which is more than I’ve EVER taken at one time, even more than the first 5 credits of my first year (also at Carleton, in the criminology program) when I never went to class anyway. the kicker is that I have to somehow get 80’s or better in every single class. I am smart and I know this, but I am also very lazy, and thus have enjoyed a straight B average for the last 5 years. now I’ve gotta strap it on.

Carleton will be interesting, after so many years. I miss it, and love it. I miss Ottawa. I miss the fact that they actually have a lgbt scene. I miss the events and culture and concerts and restaurants and reliable public transit. I miss the tunnels and the canal and the O-Train and smoking outside while admiring the bizarre architecture on campus. I quit smoking (again, ha) as of two days ago but I might have to sneak a cig outside the Loeb building or the library or on the canal bank by Russell, just for old times sake. I look forward to going back. it’s like a salve on my soul. I’m glad I got away when I did, though. and I doubt I’ll be going to Celebration while I’m there. because a lot of things have changed and a lot really haven’t.

but in the meantime, I have changed, and that’s important, because I don’t think I could have gone back if I hadn’t. well, circumstances are different too. so many stressors have disappeared or been resolved. for those that aren’t, I am confident that I can beat them because I have become so strong.

much of my family drama has been resolved, which leaves me with a more stable base. I’ve also emotionally disengaged myself from it, so even if it does erupt again, I know that it won’t affect me as much. I’ve realized my family needs to deal with their own issues without using me as a crutch.
I’m also in a stable relationship. Albano loves the idea of Ottawa, so we will probably move up there together, depending on how things go. even if he doesn’t, for whatever reason, I am still so excited to be there whether alone or part of a pair. what a huge change from the scared, inexperienced, lonely girl who kept getting manipulated by so many people. it’s as if people saw my teenage self hurting, and took advantage of that to try and mold me into something they wanted me to be. part of me recognized that and shied away from it, and yet part of me needed someone so bad that I put up with it.

it kind of bothers me that it has taken this long to become self-assured and confident in my ass-kicking abilities. I went to Carleton for the wrong reasons (I liked Ottawa and I wanted to be far away from home) and I also left it for the wrong reasons (the pressure of the church drama was becoming too much to bear… and the Jeff-drama… and the crazy-dad drama). will it be different now that I’m going for an awesome program? now that I’m in a good place in my life? now that I’m out with all aspects of my sexuality (knowing that I am pansexual, genderqueer, inclined towards polygamy) and not being asked to apologize for it? now that I’ve found my mysterious disappearing work ethic and study habits and direction and self-confidence that have been noticeably absent for 4 of my 6 undergrad years? now that I’m no longer depressed, lonely, self-destructive, and lost?

it’s still more than a year ahead. thinking about being there, doing that, is a salve on any anxiety I might have. but the most healing thing about it is that I will be there as a different person. no longer scared, hurting, angry, easily used or manipulated. I feel self-assured and solid. I’m going to kick that program’s ass! because I am finally going to be happy. it’s strange, I was so psyched when I first got there. and yet I remember those years at Carleton to be very dark and strange and cold. the upcoming years won’t be.

here are the awesome things I did on my long weekend:

- since it is the first weekend I’ve had off in like seven years, I made sure to hang out with everyone I’ve ever met. actually I didn’t plan it, but it accidentally happened because I know so many queer people and they were all at Pride. high school friends, exes, coworkers, even old university peers who used to do recreational drugs with me! they were all there!
I ran into Richard, Jess Blair (!!!), James, and Maaike, and was able to hang out with Nyree the whole night. I also got to meet lots of friends of friends and significant others that I have heard about for so long. it was awesome.

- I got really drunk and was assaulted by a homeless man. actually, I think he was mad because he wasn’t really homeless, just crazy, and resented that I thought he was homeless. then I tried to hug him to make up for offending him, and he pushed me and I fell over. then he followed up when we tried to leave, so Nyree and I had to use Stealth Ninja Skills to escape.
99% of the time, I don’t want ANYONE touching me, except Albano sometimes. I even freak out when my mom touches me. but when I’m wasted it’s a whole new ball game and I can fondle homeless guys, as if they don’t have syphilis and aren’t trying to steal my smokes.

- I got together with my friend Trevor who I haven’t seen since like 2005, and we hit the museum on Saturday. we saw everything from modern art installations to ancient egyptian artifacts to dinosaur skeletons. it was pretty awesome especially since I love dinosaurs. I took lots of pictures. I was also inspired by some aboriginal art we saw, specifically Sam Ash’s “Loneliness and Desire”. I may get it tattooed on me in the near future. anyway, then we wandered Toronto, looked at stuff, got coffee and just chatted. it was truly an enjoyable time.

- Pride Week in Toronto is like a magic theme park. all the store displays and grocery aisles and apartment balconies are adorned with rainbows, and all the people are in a really good mood and are trying to have sex with each other mostly. and lots of people are naked or pretty much naked. there are strippers dancing, drag queens dancing, lesbians dancing while spinning fire sticks, and so many PEOPLE dancing in the streets! the energy is just amazing. the drag queens always make me feel like an inferior female specimen because they are so much hotter than I am, but the fire lesbian was sexy and made me want to chase her around and do stuff to her. sexy stuff.

- I finally met an online friend in person! it was awesome, if a little bit surreal. we actually met on the same website where I met Albano, and she and I became close friends and have been talking regularly for over a year. we went to the Pride Parade and had a fabulous time. also we went to a Korean barbecue and ate lots of meat together, but not in a porn way. it was such a crazy day. I’m still not really over it. she’s intelligent and charismatic to the point that it’s intoxicating. she is unbelievably gorgeous, like her pictures x10000. and she has the sweetest voice, the most impressive vocabulary, the cleverest fashion sense and the bangingest figure ever… it was like some kind of magical fantasy made real! except I was still hung over from the homeless man thing so I looked like ass while she looked incredible.

- Sunday evening Albano and I went to visit his BFF Tim, and Tim’s girlfriend Carlene. the four of us literally talked for hours. no eating, no stopping except grudging bathroom breaks. it was so exhilarating, to have four sharp minds in a room just bouncing off each other from one topic to the next, periodically erupting into laughter. it makes me feel so special to know people who can arouse me, mentally, who can make me feel like I enjoy life by showing me what there is to appreciate from the human mind. those four or five hours of conversation really hit the spot after weeks of mindlessly processing travellers!

- yesterday was Canada Day which usually means fireworks. but Albano and I were burnt out so I created a hamster fortress for my creatures and he set up his surround sound system and hoped that no neighbour hooligans would set the lawn on fire with their exploding projectiles. and then we had incredible, mind-blowing sex on the couch. then later I barbecued some chicken, some of which was horribly burnt but some of which was also delicious. we watched a movie and then I fell asleep with my sweetie. it was a fantastic way to end the weekend.

- I have a new goal for next year’s Pride: I will be one of the topless women taking advantage of Ontario’s legislation which makes it legal to go completely bare from the waist up. I am still 11 lbs away from Naked Weight, but Wandering-Topless-In-Public-Weight is still a far bit away. I am confident I can do it in a year’s time, though. it is my motivation for looking hot! then I will have lesbians and homeless men chasing me down the street, instead of vice versa.

- and finally, this guy was the star of the parade:

From this week’s “Savage Love” column by Dan Savage:

Homos are marrying in California as of this week (congrats to all), and should a tornado—or an earthquake or a meteor or the Incredible Hulk—flatten, say, San Francisco’s City Hall during a big gay wedding, respected leaders of the religious right will rush to cable broadcast studios to insist that the tornado/earthquake/meteor/Hulk was God’s divine judgment, His righteous wrath, the Baby Jesus’s latest temper tantrum, wocka wocka wocka.

“I believe that the judgment of God is a very real thing,” said the Rev. John Hagee, John McCain’s ex-BFF, when asked about Hurricane Katrina, which struck New Orleans just before a “massive homosexual rally,” aka an annual street party called “Southern Decadence,” was supposed to take place in the French Quarter. “I believe that the Bible teaches that when you violate the law of God, that God brings punishment sometimes before the day of judgment. And I believe that Hurricane Katrina was, in fact, the judgment of God against the city of New Orleans.”

And God got his way: By drowning little old ladies in attics in the Ninth Ward, God prevented that massive gay rally—for one year.

So how does a douchebag like Hagee explain away the tragedy in Iowa last week? A tornado struck a Boy Scout camp, killing four and injuring scores more, and the Scouts are famously antigay and antiatheist. Well, we need only to consult the same interview with Rev. Hagee to learn the answer: While all natural phenomena represent God’s “permissible will,” says Hagee, “it is wrong to say that every natural disaster is the result of sin… No man on Earth knows the mind of God.”

See how that works? Not every natural disaster is the result of sin, you see, because sometimes natural disasters happen to us, not just to them, and when they happen to us, well, the Lord sure moves in mysterious ways, and no man on Earth knows the mind of God. But let a natural disaster strike San Francisco this week, next week, or ever again, and Rev. Hagee will be able to read the mind of God like it was a large-print edition of Highlights for Children.

is anyone going to the parade?

I have that weekend off for the first time in my entire life! someone take me with you!

so I have lost 19 lbs since coming back from AZ. down to 186 from 205. I still have 16 lbs to go before I reach my “naked weight”, which is the weight at which I am comfortable taking pictures, wearing lingerie, going out of doors in bathing suits, that sort of thing. or just generally being naked around other people, which happens occasionally. in the meantime, the temperature in my hometown has gone up significantly since my trip, from almost-freezing to 32 degrees C. the days have lengthened, from about 3 hours of daylight to roughly 15. I’m digging the vitamin D and serotonin, and I very much appreciate not having to shovel crap for hours just to be able to leave my house. although I enjoy the sunlight and foliage and blooms, I am not really sure how I feel about the whole business. it all comes back to the naked weight.

being thin can have its advantages, or so I’m told. I get the idea that really skinny people are at a disadvantage in the winter; I’m always teasing my perennially cold coworkers that their misery is because “you have no body fat”. when it’s cold, it doesn’t matter if you’re fat because fat insulates your internal organs against the ravages of the weather. all I ever needed was a sweater, a jacket and sometimes a hat and I’d be set. in the heat, not so much. fat is a liability. fat makes your heart work harder, raising your heart rate and thus your temperature, which stresses you out in the heat, which raises your heart beat even more. many fat people I know don’t want to remove a lot of clothes when it gets that hot; I myself am loathe to part with my jeans and sweatpants. thus, I am very excited to get back down to my naked weight so I can start walking around in skimpy garments again without being wrestled to the ground and taken to the humane society by well-meaning passersby.

I had already had a taste of the “oh-noes-no-sweatpants-allowed” panic in Arizona. 205 lbs in 95F/35C desert heat is not as bad as it sounds. for one, although I am pretty big, I’m still not that big. I have a large bone structure and I am tall enough that I still don’t have to shop plus sizes even past the 200 mark (but still a bit too close for comfort). so while I couldn’t find a pair of cut-off shorts that looked good, a size Large sundress from some preppy store like American Eagle and two size Large caftan-type things from Old Navy did me just fine. secondly, as I’m sure you’ve already heard, Arizona has “dry heat”. which means that when you are outside in the sun, it’s hot, but it won’t crush you. it just burns your eyeballs and sucks the moisture out of your throat. you sweat, but the sweat dries and makes you cooler. you won’t die as long as you have water. fat people have lots of moisture in their fat cells so again, this is an advantage.

NOT SO in Canada, my friends. not only do we get precipitation more than once a year, but I’m sandwiched in between two Great Lakes and a giant waterfall. so 32C/90F oppresses you. even though you know you’re not going to die, you probably still want to. the heat is full of evaporated water and it somehow makes everything worse, like forever walking in circles inside a bathroom while someone’s taking a shower. it sticks to your body and makes every texture offensive, except that of cool water. it gets into your clothes and drags and sticks as you pull them on, or off. it covers you with a slick sheen of sweat, oil, and god knows what else. the sweat doesn’t dry. it coats you like a varnish. the prettiest sundress sticks to your thighs, rides up the crack of your ass and collects sweat in the hollows under your breasts, embarrassing you with a dishevelled, dirty, smelly, miserable parody of you at your fashionable best. your hair sticks to your face and your makeup melts. there is no way to be comfortable.

this is why the naked weight is important. if there’s nothing I can wear to be comfortable, then I will just wear nothing. luckily, I live in a basement, which is a step in the right direction. it’s very cool, while damp, and it’s also discreet. I have also already invested in some Deep Woods spray so that I won’t get bitten in bad places by the mosquitoes that breed in the conservation area less than half a kilometre away. luckily, it is legal in Ontario for women to go topless, so I know I’m not going to get arrested. now let’s hope that, come July, I’ve made it down to Naked Weight so they won’t also mistake me for a beached manatee and throw me in the back of the SPCA van to speed me to watery safety.

thus ends the sixth day out of ELEVEN shifts.

luckily four days of that is refresher training (ie. How To Handcuff People and Beat Them With Sticks) which is fun, if a bit ridiculous. two of my work friends are in it with me and we just giggle and insult each other all the live-long day. also I have a slight crush on one of my instructors, but only because he is stocky and bald and has facial hair… like Albano. who incidentally I have seen for about an hour and a half over the last week or so.

I have four days off starting this Monday. I was going to have bus adventures but then I realized I have no money. I do, however, have a bunch of half-drunk gin bottles in my freezer. so I think I’m going to work on eradicating those so I won’t be tempted when I start my new paleo diet in June.
in a nutshell: I plan to be drunk for at least two of those four days. and I plan to come online and type some shit at the computer. that’s why I miss livejournal - drunk entries just seemed right.

the guys I work with have this bizarre obsession with cigars. sometimes the supervisors will be standing around outside just smoking cigars. I thought that was funny, until today when I went outside and saw my 22-year-old coworkers smoking Swisher Sweets.

how does one go from not smoking at all, to smoking mini CIGARS of all things? at least with cigarettes the wicked nicotine addiction makes it attractive.

ludicrous.

and it was very, very good. in fact, it was delicious.

I am in love, which is something I thought I’d never attain. like many screwed-up women who come from dysfunctional families, I had low self-esteem and thought no one would ever want me. then my confidence grew as I grew, to the point that I thought I would never want anyone else. I couldn’t imagine spending my whole life with one person. I revelled in the freedom of singleness. and, as another result of my dysfunctional family, I didn’t see marriage as desirable. my parents never seemed happy, even after 25 years of marriage and five children they are still trying to figure out what they want (and it’s not each other, it seems). why would I put myself through that?

meeting albano shocked me. neither of us expected or wanted a serious relationship when we met, but while the insane sexual chemistry kicked our asses, our instant emotional and mental connection is what made it stick. he is my best friend. we are so similar in so many ways. we have so many desires and appetites in common. we get each others’ senses of humour, which surprised both of us, since others usually find us eccentric and bizarre. most importantly, we share the same core values and have the same goals for our lives. we’ve both already confirmed to each other that we want to be together for the long haul, until one of us dies.

so why not get married?

hmm, why not indeed? I would love nothing more than to have a big, sassy wedding to celebrate our love and show the world that we’re together. but, as university students living below poverty level, neither of us has extra cash lying around to procure a marriage license, much less pay for a wedding. it would be ridiculous. and we don’t exactly have the time, either. we both want to finish school and pay off some debt before we’re legally bound to each other. neither of us sees a huge rush right now… we are living together, but don’t necessarily want to fund a ceremony or huge social gig till we can both comfortably afford the time and money.

so we live together, without being married, and we’re having sex.

to be honest it didn’t occur to me to even think about waiting till marriage to have sex. you can see PMS episodes #1 through #4 for the reasons why. and besides, I’ve got to say, I’m a little confused… what does “marriage” mean exactly? when we say “sex before marriage” are we referring to the days-long wedding bashes that happened in Jesus’ day, with tons of feasting and celebrating and drinking? if so, how come no one does that? or do we mean Catholic-style marriages (and if so, at what point did wedding parties like the one Jesus went to at Cana turn into the dull ceremonies of the RC church? who made that change?)?

or is it sufficient to just go to city hall, then have a kegger in the backyard? is city hall even necessary? did God write Canadian law books, too? or can we just have the kegger and announce to everyone that we’re totally committed?

the thing is, paternity plays a smaller role in life these days. in modern times, men are more likely to make their own fortune rather than having it handed down, if they happen to be a firstborn son. a person’s number of children no longer dictates their virility or their favour with the gods, nor does it make or break the success of the family farm. women can now easily and independently support themselves for their whole lives, without ever marrying, having children or having to become a prostitute. if a woman has sex before marriage, she is just as likely to be married as her virgin sisters, and she’ll probably be allowed to choose her own spouse these days, too. marriage is no longer a financial transaction, a political move or a necessary act of survival. if a woman has a baby out of wedlock, she won’t be stoned to death or shamed forever by her village. and if she is raped, she won’t be punished (but her attacker will). a woman’s virginity has ceased to become a huge issue, and marriage has become just one of many socially acceptable ways to legitimize a relationship. man, things have changed since Israel in 30 c.e.!!!

I guess in the past, having a giant shindig was a good way to show everyone that this man ‘owned’ this woman (and her future spawn), and they probably wouldn’t forget it after feasting and partying for days. the whole village would know because of the huge ceremony that had taken place. now, we have this nifty new mode of communication called the internet which makes communication all the more efficient. so I might as well do that here… Albano and I are committed. mind, body, soul.

thank God and Al Gore for the internet!

anyways, one way that we celebrate our commitment is through sex.

I do admit that I have achieved a new depth of sexual enjoyment. it’s so sweet and healing to look up into the eyes of someone you adore, who cares about you. it becomes more than an exciting expulsion of fluids — it’s that, with this added intensity, with this satisfaction knowing you are joined with the one you love, and bringing him pleasure, and knowing that he loves you and loves bringing you pleasure. I know these things. and guess what? omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent God knows them, too. He’s seen what we went through, He knows how we feel, and I’d be willing to bet He’s satisfied. if He tells me otherwise, I’ll change accordingly.

take a look at this article, if you’d like:


http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2008/05/01/crime-bill.html


basically, the age of consent in Canada has been raised from 14 to 16.  there’s a “close in age” exception, meaning a minor can sleep with someone within 5 years of their age.  I think this is a pretty good plan.  it scares me to think of 14 year olds sleeping with 20 year olds, much less men in their 30s, 40s and beyond.  a girl develops so much in her teen years, physically, emotionally, and mentally, that a 14 year old is worlds away from an 18 year old in terms of maturity.  at least by 16, presumably you would have completed sex ed and have a little more of your bearings in the world.  I say this as someone who lost her virginity at age 15.


I noticed some sad, misguided commenters on the cbc website recommending that teenagers be taught “abstinence only”.  how tragic.  do you know what would HAPPEN if we started doing that?  I’d probably have gotten pregnant, for one thing.  abstinence education doesn’t deter people from having sex.  having a crazy stalker dad who tried to have my lovers arrested didn’t deter me from having sex either. and my particular crazy stalker dad was waaaay scarier than the idea of God shaking his fist at you from the heavens, let me tell you.


having sex killed my relationship with my first love.  neither I nor my 16-year-old boyfriend were really emotionally equipped to deal with our insecurities and other issues.  I was dealing with bulimia, and he was dealing with some other things that made it hard for him to be intimate.  as a result, our sexual experiences were largely negative and the relationship ended.  at the time, I mourned this, as he was, of course, my first serious boyfriend, my first love, my first EVERYTHING.  however, in retrospect, that was the best possible thing that could have happened.  I actually wish we had broken up sooner. the relationship had to end because we never would have grown as people had we stayed together.  the relationship had to end because we weren’t good for each other.  we didn’t have the same values, desires, or outlook on life. this became very, very clear once we started having sex.


now, what do you think would have happened if I had waited to have sex until we had married, as per Christian recommendations?


in that case, I would have been legally bound to someone who had never seen a naked woman before except on tv and in (I assume) pornographic images.  as a result, he saw my body as flawed.  he had never seen breasts before, and thought mine irregular and odd looking.  as soon as he saw my naked thighs, he told me I needed to start exercising.  this devastated me, and made my eating disorder worse as I tried to conform to the cute little cheerleader image he preferred. 
he refused to use lubricant because he didn’t believe it was necessarily for arousal.  he thought that I should be wet enough, if I were really attracted to him.  in reality, few women get *that* wet and lubrication helps enhance pleasure and avoid pain for the female.  because he had no sexual experience, my boyfriend didn’t get it.  and I didn’t know any better, either.  I thought there was something wrong with me.


he wouldn’t try new things with me, as he had a very narrow definition of what was “normal”.  had we waited till marriage, I would probably still be doing it in the missionary position, without foreplay, thinking this was the only “right” way to do it.  and I never would have lost my gay virginity because he didn’t support me expressing my attraction to women in a physical manner. I never would have realized a lot of things about myself, and I never would have found the empowerment through sex that I discovered later. all of these things, plus my feelings of freakishness and inadequacy took a toll on me, and just made me more emotional and insecure.  I looked to him for support, and he couldn’t give it, because of his own issues with sex.  my sexuality became a shameful thing, a barometer of my failure as a girlfriend and as a female in general.  I felt like an oddity for wanting it so much, and felt slighted when he denied me.  we went for months and months at a time without having sex.  had I not moved on and slept with other people, I never would have discovered what I actually liked.  I never would have discovered my own capability for self-confidence.  I never would have realized my dominant streak, or acted out many fantasies. 


at 145 lbs, he thought I was overweight, and so did I. now, at 195 lbs, I feel sexier and more desirable than I ever have. had I not moved on and experienced different partners, I never would have met people who affirmed me and liked my body the way I was; I believe that meeting men and women who were truly attracted to me at every weight has helped to heal my eating issues.  through that, I learned also that desire is fluid and has many forms.  I never would have realized that my shape, my size, my desires were all completely normal, or at least as normal as everyone else’s.  and I wouldn’t have clued in to the fact that it was possible to be treated better.  I didn’t have to put up with the things he said and the way he made me feel, but I didn’t know that then.  and if we had waited till marriage, I would have already been his wife by the time I found out.  it would have been much harder, emotionally and legally, to get away.


sex isn’t the only part of a successful relationship, but don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t vital.  it can speak volumes about who a person really is and what they want.  it can be a mode of self expression, a way to wordlessly say so much that doesn’t usually come up in conversation.  and it allows you to figure out who you are, too.   at 15, I definitely wasn’t ready to have sex with an adult, much less be in an adult relationship.  but had I waited till adulthood and marriage, I wouldn’t be ready either.