Mission Possible: Step One GO.

... And that's about how liberated and light I feel right about now.

Step One: ACCOMPLISHED.

I came out to my brother as of this morning.

It's surreal to see that in writing. It hasn't even been 24 hours since The Talk as I write this and I still feel as though I'm walking through the clouds.

I had such trouble focusing at work afterward. Yes, my timing is impeccable -- he was awake since about 4:30 am and I was bustling about to prepare myself for the day by 6:30 am. It was interesting -- he kept buzzing about me while I was prepping my lunch/breakfast in the kitchen, something he normally doesn't do. It's like he could sense I needed to talk to him and he was sticking close by for when I was finally ready...

So yeah -- I told him. And it went as perfectly as I'd pictured, maybe even more so. I mean, both he and I attended an arts school for our high school, so we've both known numerous queer folk, but I know it can be startling to discover there's a gay gal living under your own roof. But no, he was excellent. He told me that when I come out to our parents, he will be there to support me if I need it and he even offered to sit with me and talk about how I would phrase my coming out to Mom and Dad. 

I mean, how freakin' awesome is he?

I reassured him and told him that our sister knows and has known for quite some time, so he can always talk to her about it, too. I know she and I have not quite discussed my being queer since I outed myself about 3 years ago. It's been a rough spot between us, not gonna lie. But, I figure with our brother in-the-loop, maybe she'll be more inclined to discuss it in the future.

 I still wish my original coming-out would have worked the way I'd imagined -- I wanted to tell my brother and sister at the same time. I was antsy to talk to them during my third-year Reading Week, so I jumped the gun a little there. But still, with a reaction like his was this morning, I wouldn't want to trade it for a 'What If...' scenario.

And for once, we were given a gorgeous day here in the GTA. With the warmth and the sunshine there, I was just overflowing with such a sense of ease. I felt secure with myself and I felt powerful and grounded. I just hope I didn't give the kid too much of a shock. That's a lot to process at that hour of the morning.

Next Step of Mission Possible: Talk to the 'Rents. Hrmm....

London Town

So today was a very interesting day...yeah we went round London town, trying to figure out what to do, what to do..........so we went to Brixton Lane. I've heard loads about it...you know massive market,vintage stores,eccentric dressing....but ...nothing, nada, nix it was dead there were a couple of vintage stores...but OK...you know when people say vintage they're actually saying old, muffy second hand clothing and accessories, so imagine my horror when i walked into a vintage store and discovered that the average price for old, battered and worn out shoes is about £45. WHY???? Someone has worn these shoes before!!!!!!!!!!! The same with clothes....I'm offended!
Well, dd find some cool nerdy spectacles I'm loving...they are absolutely faboosh!!!! But is there anywhere n London where you can get decent and relatively cheap clothes(I'm a student for shite's sake) apart from primark or tk maxx or what not so and so???

Apart from that rehearsals are killing me...I'm soo fat*whiny voice*
It actually dawns on me that this is quite a big deal...I'm performing in front of a live audience...A PAYING AUDIENCE!!!!! This could either lead to absolutely nothing or things could actually change for the better....

Miz Moffatt: Ass Kicker in the Making

March seemed like an ordinary month, save for one revelation:

 I have this unnatural urge to be active all of a sudden.

Well, I shouldn't question it TOO much, I suppose. I led a highly active childhood where I was involved with baseball, soccer, high jump, cross-country running, gymnastics, one questionable year of 'dance,' and an on-and-off again relationship with the gym since I was sixteen. 

But, in terms of organized sports, I had given most of that up by the time I hit twelve or thirteen -- the same time I picked up a pen and a notebook to start exploring the world of writing.

And now, of all times, I'm craving athletics like nobody's business.

Why? Why on Earth would a person desire to punish themselves on a scheduled and regular basis?

I blame it on the treadmill.

It's true, I hadn't been out jogging since the golden days of my youth. Then, over the winter, I decided to spice up my typical weight lifting regimen with a quick 15 minutes of running and -- BAM!INEEDTOBEMOREACTIVEANDENGAGEINMOREACTIVITIES!!

It's sick, I know.

Since I mentioned the whole idea of game plans on Monday evening, I thought I might detail some of the 'game plans' I have when it comes to sport and other active, jaunty pursuits:

• HIKING!: My sister and I have already headed to Crawford Lake twice this summer. This was where the athletic sickness started, really. I thought, "Man, trekking in the forest and scaling rocks would be cool... and stuff" -- AND STUFF. Indeed.
• CANOEING!: Dad and I were discussing this tonight (as we were walking around the block). Turns out he'd been doing some research about places around the area that would be ideal for canoeing and didn't realise I, too, was interested. I think I need to get a little stronger in the shoulders before I attempt a long haul, but it's on the table.
• SWIMMING!: I wanna do lane swimming! Swim back and forth in a straight line for 45 minutes! I don't know why!
• BATTING CAGES!: I haven't played baseball in, oh... ten years, but I have this urge to see if I could still hit one out of the park. Batting cages seem to be a safe place to start.
• GOLFING??: I've never been interested in golf, really. It was Dad who mentioned it on the weekend. He and my brother go to the driving range frequently and it appears that my Dad would like to recruit me for the trip. I think I might give it a try. I mean, hey -- might as well try everything once, right?
• ZIP-LINING!: Again, this is a plot my sister and I have concocted. I mean -- tree top bridges? Spelunking? RIDING ON A ZIP-LINE THROUGH A FOREST? Heck yes.

... Granted, I still have quite a ways to go with my own physique. I'm no powerhouse, but I do aim for a gym run at least 3 times per week. Haha, my goal was to be buff for Pride and was I ever. But, I'm thinking I could go the extra mile and do even better than before.

.... AND, I also found out there's an all-women's outdoor adventure group close-by that even sponsors treks for lesbians/bi women ONLY. I mean, WHAT? I need to get in better shape so I can sign up for one of those, let me tell you.

So, look out, world -- Moffatt's gonna bench press you in no time.

AUGUST: IT'S GAME TIME.

Right, kids -- I know it's not August yet. 

YET. 

The countdown's begun, though. Saturday = August 1st = NO MORE WASTING TIME. It's damn time I bite the bullet and do it.

It's time to out myself once and for all.

Epic sentiment, I know. Sometimes you need to talk brash and add an extra swagger to your step in order to psych yourself up for The Moment. And OH GIRL, will I need me some of that...

Game Plan:

• Corner my lil' brother sometime this week and tell him. Easier said than done. He keeps bizarre hours and is generally asleep when the world is alive. Regardless, I want him to know and preferably mention this to my older sister (the one who is still ignoring the fact that I came out to her, oh... maybe three years ago).
• Have The Talk with my parents at the same time -- oh, deep breaths, deep breaths. I've gone back and forth between the idea of telling them at opposite times (Dad first, Mom second) vs. the same time. One-on-one seems less daunting than two-on-one. But, I wouldn't want one parent to feel offended if I went to the other parent first. Granted, talking to them both at the same time would more than likely limit the amount of rational discussion we could have about the subject. I imagine there will be discomfort/anger/possible depression that will arise and build more aggressively with two people there vs. one. But no, I gotta stick to telling them both at once. I can't see the other way working out well.
• Come out to the rest of the old high school crowd I hang out with. This will be decidedly easier vs. coming out to the immediate family. If they don't know already, then I know they will be entirely accepting. I mean, I should have told them years earlier, but the strong sense of guilt instilled in me compels me to talk to the 'rents and siblings before I disclose to friends. 

I figure August will be a good month to tackle this one. Chantal will be back in town (at least for the month) and My Advocate returns from abroad in the latter half of the month. In both cases, should the home front turn sour or unsavoury, I will have two places to crash (not to mention the support of two amazing friends who will, undoubtedly, keep me sane during the difficult months ahead).

I have quite a bit of cash saved up as well and I'm debating if I should be so drastic as to pack a bag or two, just in case. I like to be prepared for the worst even while hoping for the best. Better to be set than unprepared. 

Again, it might sound drastic and melodramatic, but..... well, sometimes it's just the position you find yourself facing. Though, based on my current track record, it will all be entirely lack lustre and filled to the brim with people saying, "Yeah... yeah, I know. What took you so long to say something?"

We shall see.

Bad, Moffatt. BAD!

For shame, Moffatt! Look at me, already neglecting my lil' blog for ONE WEEK.

*Slaps wrist*

I must admit -- my daily existence is rather void of queer tales, lesbian hotties, and other various gaieties. 

I live in the suburbs. I am in the closet. And most of my friends are either A) Overseas, or B) Working on the weekends while I work during the week.

... What the heck is this world coming to, I tell you.

Still, an excuse is an excuse -- and trust me, I am attempting to justify my behaviour and perhaps lessen the scolding and wrath I might receive from readers across the Blogiverse.

So, to make amends, I come bearing a gift. This is a clip I actually came across quite a while ago, but, now that I have a queer platform through which to share it, I can spread its loveliness to viewers not yet acquainted with it.

Essentially, the New York Times Style Magazine shot a webseries of intimate, one-on-one interviews with prominent stars and entertainers titled "Screentest." It appears as though the project was designed to promote their online magazine and what better way to lure people to online publications than plastering gorgeous celebrities across their pages?

*Ahem*

Anyhow, the NY Times was blessed with the presence of Ms. Natalie Portman for one of their intimate interviews and, my goodness, it just proves how painfully adorable the woman is. What a gorgeous way to end an entirely rainy weekend. *Shakes fist at the past four days of continual rain*

And now, I give you: 

Jourdan Dunn is Pregnant.

Wow...how old is she???

But what i really wanna know is who's the daddy...who's been....jourdan dunn???

London.

Very quick post...London is full of attractive people..or is it just me???

Mhh...pondering

Today was really eventful, I'm so tired it's unbelievable....totally random but London is full of actors, i know it is the magnet but nearly everyone i meet on the tube or the bus is coming back from some sort of audition...one word, no two words..competitive business.

While we were discussing the play today, one particular question kinda made me stop and think...Do female strippers, still fit into this ideology of being empowered even thought they are enticing men with their bodies, satisfying the male mind? And is it that different from prostitution as both profession in the end please men ? The whole play is about feminism and how women class themselves as hardcore feminists yet find themselves controlled by male society. The real question is Is there such thing as Feminism and female empowerment?

Lovers of Literature

I realized just now that this will mark the first post where I share a real-life crush with all you lovely readers out there.

Ooh, pressure's on.

Right, so -- poetry class. I signed myself up for this creative writing course during the second year of my undergrad degree (Winter 2006). I was bubbly and bright-eyed at the thought of meeting other writers and sharing collections of poems and just generally exploring the English language for the sport of it.

And there she was.

I get distracted easily, it would appear.

She was a year older than me, a theatre major with a penchant for Shakespeare's Ophelia, and.... she had this pesky boyfriend by the name of Mark. *Mumble, grumble* I guess I can't complain too much, though -- I met her while I was in the middle of a brief experimentation with the hetero world. I suppose you could say my crush on her helped me confirm my queerness. (I know, she was THAT gorgeous, if you can imagine.)

On Tuesday afternoons, I was given the gift of three precious, poetry-laden hours with the Girl Wonder herself. From January to April, she and I sat beside one another and exchanged verse filled with our fantasies, our insecurities, and other aspects of our private lives. She tried to convince me of the merits of Margaret Atwood (who is still my sworn literary enemy, FYI) and I tried to convince her that girls were far hotter than boys. 

Alright, that last one is a lie -- it's what I wanted to do, trust me. But heck, to be the semester confidante of a girl like that was still a nice concession. And getting to share poetry with her on a weekly basis only helped to sweeten the deal.

And hey, she also taught me the sheer hotness that home-made Valentine's gifts can be. That year, she made a sensual board game for her boyfriend that ended with -- SURPRISE! Sex. I believe her direct description was "That way, EVERYONE WINS." *Melts*

I lost touch with her once our notebooks were shut for the semester, though. Ah, the tragedy, the lament! It's the stuff of epic poems.... or, well, at least an angst-ridden sonnet or two. I saw her in one or two other English lectures, but we were running with two different crowds and never seemed to cross paths again. Still, I look back on those times with a grin and a twirly heart, no doubt.

And, on an odd twist -- I saw her once again on stage at the 2007 GQE Kink Night performing in a burlesque show with another one of my major undergrad crushes. 

See? Maybe not all tragedies end in tears. No, sometimes, they end with partial nudity and a seductive, public striptease. 

I would definitely recommend the latter.

A Spot of Poetry on a Saturday Morning

Last night, I cracked open my copy of 20th-Century Poetry & Poetics (Fourth Edition) to take in a bit of the golden verse for a change. I've been rather neglectful when it comes to my own creative endeavours and I'm thinking it's about time I re-focused my efforts. 

I've had this indescribable silence building in me over the past number of years when it comes to writing. Granted, my blogging has never suffered and my paper journals are always there for me during the tougher times. But my actual creative efforts have faltered. Maybe it was an undergrad burn out -- while writing essays, I used to get so anxious and irritable when I sat down at my keyboard (this experience would then affect my ACTUAL writing as well).

In addition, I've generally forsaken reading over the past year. I've heard the expression "great writers are avid readers" and I can understand the truth to that statement. If you are constantly discovering new ways to tell stories, then your stories will most likely be richer as a result. You need to immerse yourself in what you're drawn to and all those other inspirational sentiments.

I have been neglectful, indeed.

Anyhow, I'm getting all ramble-y. The three conclusions after turning to my poetry collection were:

1. I need to just write, write, write.... even if it turns out to be pure drivel.
2. I wanted to share a gorgeous piece of verse by one of my favorite poets.
3. .... I wanted to share a little bit about a poetry class I took during my second year... and yes, there's a gorgeous girl involved....

I'll save the pretty poetess for either later tonight or tomorrow. For now, I give you "Recuerdo" by Edna St. Vincent Millay. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Recuerdo

We were very tired, we were very merry -

We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.

It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable -

But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,

We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon;

And the whistles kept blowing, and dawn came soon.

We were very tired, we were very merry -

We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry;

And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear,

From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere;

And the sky when wan, and the wind came cold,

And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold.

We were very tired, we were very merry,

We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.

We hailed, "Good-morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head,

And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read;

And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and pears,

And we gave her all our money but our subway fares.

Waiting for "Whip It!" Wednesday

Drew Barrymore, Ellen Page, and Kristen Wiig as derby darlings in Whip It

Fact: Tough girls on roller skates are HOT. Not just hot, but HAHT, even. 

Trust me, it's proven by science.

And what could be better than an all-girl, roller derby throwdown film headed by Canadian cutie (and potential baby dyke...?), Ellen Page?

Nothing. 

Nothing is better.

I never thought I would utter these words, but.... Drew Barrymore, you are an utter and epic genius.

It's true, lovely readers -- Whip It marks Ms. Barrymore's directorial debut and what a start it will be. I mean, what other film could cater so blatantly to an audience of gay girls, am I right? I certainly hope I am since I will be front and centre in the theatre on its opening weekend, mark my words.

In a bid for her own independence, the teen misfit, Bliss Cavendar (Ellen Page), sheds the stifling expectations of her mother (Marcia Gay Harden) and the Texas beauty-queen circuit and reinvents herself after joining an all-girl roller derby team, the Hurl Scouts. Under the guidance of Smashley Simpson (Barrymore) and Malice in Wonderland (Kristen Wiig), the young Bliss learns to assert herself and even take on her derby nemesis, Iron Maven (Julia Lewis) of the Holy Rollers.

*EXCITEMENT ABOUNDS*

Another interesting tidbit: Whip It is based on yet another debut -- writer Shauna Cross published her original YA novel, Derby Girl, at roughly the same time she was given the greenlight to develop a feature film script. Quite an exciting experience for a first-time writer, I must admit. 

And what was that last piece of information I was supposed to mention? Hmmm.... now, what could it be.... our Canadian gal, Ellen Page, is skating with... oh, darn, who was it again?

OH! That's right -- she's been paired with none other than:

ZOE BELL as BLOODY HOLLY.

*Mind explodes*

Oh, to be the woman decorating Ms. Bell's bottom with an intense, rather convincing derby bruise.

I am simply bubbling over with anticipation. 

And you better believe I'll be writing a detailed review of this film once I see it. What a mid-week treat it was to discover these stills. *CHEERS*

Fag/Hag 2.0: The Next Generation

O'Neill and I fancy ourselves to be a bit of an anomaly to the queer community.

If you will allow me to cater to the stereotypes for a moment, it would appear that the gay girl/gay boy friendship is an impossible occurrence. 

Throughout my undergrad experience, it was unmistakable that the queers were divided -- the lesbians tended to split off and form their own entourages and the gay gents mingled with the other boys and a select collection of straight girls for the most part. Aside from the monthly campus events and the Thursday bar nights, the gay girls and boys rarely interacted with one another. We were civil, of course -- but it was difficult to move past the usual pleasantries.

Enter: O'Neill and I.

We came out to one another first before we entered The Scene. We bonded over detailed high school secrets, our shared difficulties on the home front, and hell, we even revealed our matching crushes on the Gyllenhaal siblings. (Maggie for me, Jake for him, naturally). We balanced one another and kept each other grounded through the toughest, the strangest, and the most exhilarating moments of our young lives.

And we also seemed to raise a few eyebrows as a result.

A mutual (and also gay) friend of ours revealed a bizarre and confusing idea that had been circulating throughout our campus' queer community after my and O'Neill's initial debut -- folks were under the impression the two of us were dating. Dating? .... Huh?

To elaborate, it turns out the crowd interpreted us as a "bi-curious girl with an extremely supportive boyfriend" -- I mean.... what? Really? Granted, I now use this story to gloat over the fact that I'm "more gay" than O'Neill, however, that does not help to mask the strange assumption at the root of this story.

According to the status quo, hetero and homo alike -- a gay girl and a gay boy cannot be best friends.

What a sad and baffling conclusion.

That tired and restrictive notion that women and men can NEVER be 'just friends' has somehow managed to worm its way into a social group connected by their same-sex attraction.

... How did this ever come about? I can't even pretend to know. What I do know is my undergrad experience within the queer community was defined by this assumption. I often got the impression the girls were suspicious of me, acting as though I was poised to infiltrate their female-centred world or something to that effect. It was disorienting at best, but it taught me the true value of that one friend who would always understand me.

O'Neill and I reflected on it all one evening as we attempted to define our friendship status.

Fag Hag couldn't grasp it -- I am definitely not a straight girl, so that was ruled out.

Fag/Fag Hag seemed redundant.... and I felt strange about having the term 'fag' attached to my title (haha, though 'hag' is apparently more acceptable).

... Lo, we turned to Fag/Hag 2.0: The Next Generation of Queer Friendships. I like to think of HAG as an acronym: Hot And Gay. I figure it sums me up rather well. *Checks her ego at the door*

Who knew that a friendship could seem this revolutionary? 

Weekend Rundown

I return -- I know, I've been a silly and neglectful Moffatt. I fear there are no explanations for it. There are excuses, yes -- work stress that lingers with me well into the evening, an increase in gym visits over the past week, catching up on the first season of Dollhouse. Yes, the list is a long one. But, I'll banish all that for the moment. Instead, I'll share a snapshot of the weekend.

O'Neill invited me to another wedding taking place this past Saturday. What can I say, we're premium wedding crashers at this point. We're two for two with owning the dance floor, though the competition was a little stiffer this year (Re: Older couples who knew a few swing dance steps). Pfft, even those moves couldn't help them in the end, though. 

Highlights include:

• Getting the opportunity to dress swanky and wear heels (oh, and get complimented on my dress from women and men alike, mmm hmm /Ego trip).
• Being whisked to the outdoor ceremony via golf cart while numerous others had to walk. Oh, and having my heels sink into the fairway was amusing, too.
• Proving just how quickly I get sunburnt in the absence of sunscreen (I believe we were outside for a total of 30 minutes).
• Surprising O'Neill's dad and brother-in-law after I ordered a pint of Rickard's Red (a true dyke, I know.)
• Salivating over a delicious meal of salad, tofu steaks, and chocolate mousse cake... mmmm.....
• OPEN BAR!
• Checking out one of the stunning bridesmaids for the majority of the evening. O'Neill had his eye on one of the groomsmen (coincidentally, this gentleman was the same man who drove the golf cart for us earlier in the evening). 
• Tearing up the dance floor to a soundtrack including classics from the 50s and 60s, a little bit of "Sexyback" and "Stuck in the Middle with You," and a hilarious and melodramatic reenactment of Aerosmith's "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing".
• Watching as our eye candy (Re: The bridesmaid and the groomsman) slowly started hanging out, flirting, and more than likely hooking up with one another. Haha, O'Neill and I know how to pick 'em, apparently. ;) :p
• Eating more cake than is ever healthy in one evening.
• Getting to hang out with one of my best friends and gossip about all the queer topics we wish to.

I have a post planned for tomorrow that will discuss this further. I'm not sure why I'm alluding to it now since I'm not prepared to reveal any details. I'll just have to leave you all in suspense, won't I? So cruel, I know.

All in all, it was a great weekend and a welcome escape from the dull, grey life of the suburbs. 

*Is already plotting ways to crash a higher number of weddings in the next-to-near future*

P.S. -- The GTA was hit with some intense thunderstorms while I was away. When I got home, I noticed my Mom had shut my windows. I also recalled I'd left my PFLAG rainbow bracelets on my desk. I'm trying to leave little queer Easter eggs around the house for my parents to discover, just to get them used to the idea. Perhaps I should start my countdown for the exact day I come out on the home front.... 

Naomi Campbell Photographed by Mario Sorrenti for Italian Vogue

You can't fault this woman, her pictures are truly beautiful.

And they say i can't dress...

Yesterday me and a couple of friends were in town doing some much needed shopping when all of a sudden the whole group decided to 'turn against 'me and mock me saying that i have no fashion sense, they said that it wasn't really 'my fault' as Germans are just backwards anyway....i am very patriotic and i love Germany soo much that obviously i couldn't take that sort of insult lightly...matter of fact when i think about it i do look a bit different from 'your usual Mancunian' (people from Manchester), firstly i don't wear Tracksuits at any time, only when I'm working out...no that's a lie i just don't wear them, secondly ugg boots are the work of the devil,why in the world would you buy shoes for more that £100 and in the matter of one week the soles kinda go funny, ugg boot wearers look weird from behind that's all i gotta say Plus did you know that ugg boots were originally meant for Australian farmers to keep their feet warm....EXACTLY.

Another fashion accessory which i find ridiculous but is soo popular here in Manchester are hoop earrings,not the standard ones noo, they thick and at least 5 pound heavy ones that make you walk kinda funny due to you ever expanding earlobes..they look so well chavy. So anyway because of this i will continue to dress particularly 'German' and in honour i will create a German street style section, praising my 'outlandish fashion sense.

KT Tunstall: A Case Study

What happens when infectious pop music meets a scratchy, soulful voice wrapped inside the absolutely gorgeous frame of a sweet and feisty Scottish woman?

Why, you get KT Tunstall, of course.

But, I have to tell you -- I don't know if it's the sound of my Gaydar pinging or if it's entirely wishful thinking on my part, but..... well, don't you ever wonder about Ms. Tunstall?

Sure, I've heard she has a boyfriend which would suggest she's of the hetero persuasion. Alas, haven't we been there too often with a number of lovely ladies? But there's something else, some sort of energy around her that makes me think she might have cast a glance or two at the fairer, hotter of the sexes.

Please open your textbooks to page 10 and we'll start today's studies:

A) KT Tunstall's name: Check it -- "KT". It redefines the whole idea of Katies everywhere. And what gay gal doesn't enjoy to challenge the conventions and structures of hetero-normative society, especially when it comes to names? Look no further than Canadian songstress kd lang, and you'll see what I mean. I think it deserves a few Queer Points.

B) KT's Fashion: Hmm, bit of a toss-up here. For as many tough, rocker girl photo shoots there are featuring Ms. Tunstall, there's an equal number of high-femme, glam pictures to be found. However, I would argue Ms. Tunstall tends to fall in the sweet spot between the two -- most of you might know of the 'soft butch' or 'futch' image that has garnered quite a bit of public attention thanks to the likes of Ellen DeGeneres, Rachel Maddow, and numerous others. If I'm not mistaken, I should think Ms. Tunstall has taken a few tips from the greats and charged it with some ample amounts of rock swagger:

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

C) KT's penchant to cover, and thereby 'queerify,' popular songs by male artists: Whoa, that was a mouthful. Or, maybe a fingerful, since I had to type out that sentence. Anyway, technicalities -- this was the main reason I even TOOK to writing this entry tonight.

I was cruising through YouTube and discovered that Ms. Tunstall, in all her wisdom and utter hotness, has chosen to take well-known songs by men and make them her own in concert. Now, this is nothing new to the music world. Covers are a way of life for some and a fun experiment for others. However, the main draw with KT Tunstall rests in the fact she opts to keep those gender pronouns in place. (E.g. When a song is written from a male perspective regarding his Lady Love, KT keeps the lyrics in tact instead of changing them to 'straighter' pronouns.) The end result is an enticing, queerer reading of popular songs that ladies EVERYWHERE can enjoy. And trust me, this gay gal right here enjoys it quite a bit.

Video 1: "Tangled Up In Blue" by: Bob Dylan 

(Note: Yes, those are suspenders she's wearing...)

Video 2: "I Want You Back" by: Jackson 5

Video 3: "My Sharona" by: The Knack

(Also featuring the lovely French singer, Keren Ann)

D) KT's Rainbow Suspenders: She wore them on the cover of her debut album. I mean, come on -- COME ON. That's some serious Queer Cred right there.

So please, PLEASE, KT -- say it IS so. Make us queer girls ecstatic. Though, even if the rumours (which, apparently I am now starting) aren't true, you know we'll support you any day of the week, just like those rainbow suspenders of yours.

CANADA DAY 2009

HAPPY 142nd BIRTHDAY, CANADA!

The Great White North never looked so GREAT, I tell you.

Oh, Canada -- you don't look a day over 20. And I'm not just saying that out of politeness, I promise you. In fact, you could even argue I was saying that to flirt a little -- you know me.

I want to thank you for your open-mindedness, your general sense of humility, and your international image as 'that country full of polite, peaceable, and beer-lovin' people.' I mean, really -- I think we won the lottery when it comes to our global presence. Sure, we might not stand out. Heck, you could even call us wallflowers at times. But, to be in another country and actually see a stranger relax after telling them you're Canadian is quite a sight, I must admit. I couldn't ask for more.

Here's to another year in our lovely, little nation and here's hoping 2009 makes up for the rather rough 2008 we weathered through. 

Best birthday wishes to you, Canada. May your patios overflow with gorgeous women this evening, even if it IS a Wednesday.