Weekend Plans

• Stratford Festival with Dad: MacBeth @ 1 pm (starring the epic Colm Feore as The Man Himself)
  
• Gym visit on Sunday morning: I have neglected it this week. Will kick myself into gear for June, though.
• Taking lots of personal time to roam around my town at night with my headphones and my air of contemplation.
• Cleaning out either my dresser or under my bed (and hopefully vacuuming. Lots and lots of vacuuming).
• Cooking healthy and luxuriating in my vegetarianism.
• Researching more topics for "Queer in Canada."

I think I leapt into this blog with two feet forward, but with no real direction. You know, there's not a whole lot of queer activity going on in the 'burbs. I have discovered this over the past year.

Oh well -- here's to a well-deserved Friday and a serene weekend to look forward to. 

Marriage: Canada vs. California

What a bitter day for Californians.

If you are queer and you have access to various media outlets, I'm sure you've heard the devastating news that the California Supreme Court voted to uphold Proposition 8.

The events of this morning have set me on another reflective tangent comparing the current situation in California and the relative normality of same-sex marriage here in Canada.

Overall, Canadians tend to be a self-deprecating lot -- we operate with this mentality that nothing we create is worthy until it's recognized outside of our borders. We tend to stand in the shadows of our neighbours to the South, desiring the glamourous pageantry of American identity and their self-assured, brash way of kicking down the barriers blocking their American Dream.

But with same-sex marriage -- Canada is light years ahead and it's hard to believe at times. 

I mean, historically-speaking, Canada's known for its traditional, conservative politics. I mean, hi -- we didn't develop our own Constitution until 1982. The Queen and her Governor General are still prominent figureheads in our Parliament. Heck, if you go even FURTHER back, we took in all the British Loyalists fleeing the American Revolution, why?..... Because we were a whole NATION of British Loyalists. Well, minus the French and Native populations.... but you get the jist of the idea.

And yet, here we are -- same-sex marriage has been legalized across our nation since July 20th, 2005. In fact, same-sex marriages were legal in eight out of ten provinces and one territory as early as 2003. Granted, we've had our near setbacks, too -- when the Conservative Party won a minority government in 2006, our douche of a Prime Minister *Cough*StephenHarper*Cough* tried to appease Alberta and put same-sex marriage out to a national referendum -- it was shot down by Parliament. 

Bill C-38: I remember the newscasts and the protests and the court cases that finally protected same-sex marriage under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. 

I turned 19 in a world where I could meet a woman, fall in love, and marry her without consequence.

Prop. 8 is a shock to the senses. I've seen the attack ads launched in California by right-wing, conservative, religious groups and I cannot believe that blatant hate speech can be created for public consumption. It's mind-boggling. I forget sometimes how much more liberal Canada tends to be now. Even while we look to the States for that brassy, glitzy swagger they've got, it seems like it's all a show. The real revolution is right in our own backyards.

If I could pass any advice on to Californians, I would suggest taking this day to mourn and taking tomorrow to start fresh. Wake up with a new resolve to get out there and fight back even harder than before. That determination, that focus, that unwavering hope -- it's all part and parcel of that American spirit I've heard so much about from here. 

That, or you can always feel free to join myself and the other lovely ladies of Canada for a beer and an elopement. Either way, I can assure you the outcome will be brilliant.

Speaking of Origins....

... Am I confusing you yet?

The Beatles? On a blog about queer women?..... Where you goin' with this, Moffatt??

I got to pondering about origin stories thanks to Wolverine and his aptly-titled new film. And The Beatles are, quite possibly, the greatest chapter in my Coming Out Origin Story.

I grew up in a house filled with music. My Dad has played in countless bands since he was a teenager and he went to great lengths impressing a diverse selection of music on my sister, my brother, and myself.

And naturally, The Beatles were introduced to us at a VERY early age. Once the excitement and wonder I felt for Sharon, Lois, and Bram and Sesame Street wore off, The Beatles took their place as The Greatest Band EVER (according to Moffatt). Who knew the British Invasion would continue well into the 1990s? Go figure.

Between the ages of six and nine, I was ecstatic over the tapes (yes, cassette tapes) my Dad would present me with each Christmas. It was a whole new world of melodies and rock 'n' roll to obsess over for the new year..... and it was all supporting a kind of preconscious attraction to women through the power of catchy lyrics.

Quoi?

It's true -- some would call it "misinterpretation," but I prefer to think of it as "Dyke-ification." Instead of imagining myself as the object of the singer's attention, I found myself identifying with The Fab Four and their penchant for beautiful, free-spirited women.

The lure of "Long Tall Sally" and "Lovely Rita" were too much for my pre-adolescent mind to handle. 

And, oh, the promise of a song like "Back In The USSR": Gorgeous girls from the Ukraine, Moscow, and Georgia, all playing their balalaikas and keeping "[their] comrade warm" -- I mean, OBviously I should have been their comrade, am I right?

I wanted to be the chivalrous singer of "You're Gonna Lose That Girl" and rescue my dream girl from her deadbeat boyfriend.

I wanted to find "just the girl for me" and I would "want all the world to see we've met," just like Paul sings it in "I've Just Seen A Face."

I wanted to feel the fresh, compelling, and all-too-magnetic pull of the girl depicted in "I Saw Her Standing There" (even IF she was "just seventeen".... though I would have still been in elementary school when I first heard that track, so it was the lure of the ~older woman~ working there).

Even now, I sit and listen to The Beatles with a sly grin and a wink to my younger self. So, not only do their songs form the soundtrack to the carefree period of my childhood, their music has formed the basis of my identity as a queer woman.

Impressive, to say the least.

I doff my hat to thee, John, Paul, George, and Ringo. 

X-Men Origins: Wolverine

I have a confession to make -- sci fi is my drug of choice. I embrace my inner nerd and encourage her further development on a regular basis. 

Space exploration? So there.

Time travel? Yes, please.

Mutants with superhuman capabilities and an exercise regimen that delivers KILLER results for movie fans of all sexual preferences to drool over? .... Well, you had me at "mutants," really.

I checked out X-Men Origins: Wolverine on May 16th (aka. Moffatt's 23rd birthday, thank you very much) and I admit.... it was a bit of a sausage fest. I found the sheer volume of shirtless Hugh Jackman shots to be hilarious after a while, but, I mean, the man worked hard for those muscles, so I guess someone ought to show 'em off. So, why do I even bother to mention this film on a blog that is SO clearly of the lady-lovin' persuasion?

Because of THIS WOMAN right here:

Lynn Collins as Kayla Silverfox. I mean, think of her name -- SilverFOX. How could I avoid posting about her dark-haired radiance, her tactile mind control abilities, and her sheer ass-kickery? 

I could not.

If those traits alone were not stellar enough for this young blog-ette to post about, perhaps Ms. Silverfox's passport would qualify. Yes, she proves to be another elusive figure within the Hollywood landscape -- she is a born and bred Canadian character. 

YES. IT IS TRUE. DO NOT READJUST YOUR COMPUTER SCREEN.

Canadian characters rule the roost (or, in this case, the Canadian Rockies and the American military) throughout this film. Logan? Check. Victor Creed? Check. And Kayla Silverfox? CHECKCHECKCHECK.

Alright, so the characters tend to lean heavily on stereotypical portrayals of life in Canada -- Logan retreats to the Canadian Rockies to channel his inner lumberjack and falls in love with an earthy, small town school teacher. Dense forests surround them. Log cabins house them. And the only sign of civilization is a pack of school children running from a one room school house somewhere in the mountains.

It's untamed. 

It's all-consuming wilderness. 

It's the Great White North at its most Northern, really.

But, wow -- WOW. I wish I could find a photo of the infamous white nightgown scene. I know Kayla Silverfox was describing a tale from Native lore about a spirit tricked into losing his lover, the Moon, forever, but.... if I was being straddled by a woman like her in a nightgown like that, well. WELL. I don't think I could have recited any part of that tale to you afterward. 

Oh, X-Men franchise -- you have treated us so well:

• Famke Janssen as Jean Grey
• Halle Berry as Storm
• Anna Paquin as Rogue
• Rebecca Romijin as Mystique
• Ellen Page as the second Kitty Pryde

And now Lynn Collins as the one representing Canadian gal?

Thank you. Thank you x 100.

Apologies and A Poem! With Lilies!

So.

I've discovered my blogging skills are... lacking. Significantly.

I have a tendency to start projects and then lose sight of them. But, I refuse to let this blog fall by the wayside. Queer it is, and queer it shall be!

I felt this evening calls for a spot of poetry. Yes, I am indeed a poet -- and a published one at that. Granted, I've only been published in a small, alternative campus magazine, but hey -- that publication got me my first group of fans. *Bashful*

So, for your reading ~pleasure,~ here's a verse or two for all the ladies who love ladies out there. *Slips on a chic beret and some shades*

Efflorescence

*Published 2007

The setting sun ignites the room

Red walls make my skin glow

Ripe as cherries

Still full of youth and sweetness

I can feel her footsteps on the stairs

Sliding over rough carpet to our door

With a single lily in her hand

For my hair

The silence of the house

Lifts her eyebrow

Tempts my blushing hands

To the buttons of her shirt

We sleep one hundred years and wake

To find the lily has become a field

For thousands of others like us

*Dizzy swoon* I need to hit the ol' paper and pen again.... or, better yet, I need to hit these keys more often. Eh? Eh.