the women within without

for weeks now, i've tried to figure you out. after 25 years i like to think i've become rather adept at figuring people out, especially women. but when i look at you i can only describe my reaction as a combination of wonderment, envy, confusion and pity. i can't quite decide -- do i feel sorry for you or do i wish i was more like you?

i see a lot of myself in you -- at least, myself as i used to be before i grew my slight edge of cynicism; before i decided that "putting myself out there" was the only sure-fire method of self-preservation. in so many ways you are the innocence that i used to embody; you are the joyful naivete of the girl i once was

i fluctuate between wanting to hold you tight in protectivity and wanting to learn from you. do you represent the woman i wish i could be, or the one i'm so relieved to have left behind?

you blush when women are supposed to blush; i say the things that make men uncomfortable. for you, certain subjects remain off limits; nothing is taboo with me. by keeping private matters private, you are an enigma, a mystery; by trying to be "liberated", my immodesty leaves little to the imagination

the endless dilemma for feminists is how women can embrace our sexuality and define it in our own terms, without submitting to socially- (read: men) imposed conceptions of women's sexuality. feminism says women who wish to be liberated should be comfortable in their sexuality, but yet when we dress "sexy" or talk "sexy" or engage in meaningless sexual play, feminism tells us that we are shamefully subjecting ourselves to the roles men have created and defined. all of this leaves a feminist like myself in a state of utter confusion

particularly in the face of a woman like you

is your version of sexuality so progressive that it needs no exposure, or are you so resistant to socially-defined constructs of female sexuality that you cannot define your own? either way, i find myself drawn to you as someone so very different than me. yoiu are younger than me and yet in some ways i feel that you are an "old soul" from whom i have much to learn

i care not about others' judgments and yet you are one of the few people in whose presence i try to check myself or feel embarassed when i dont. i dont see you as frail or fragile; i admire your strength for being your own woman at a time when women's lib seems to mean being more like men

i admire you for being proper because you say its proper

i admire you for being the woman i couldnt

dont ask me to put words to all the silences i wrote

why do i write? do i feel i can understand myself better through written word?

the question, so innocent sounding, caused me a moment's pause. something seemingly self-evident required a verbal explanation and, ironically, on the topic of writing i couldnt find the words to express myself

writing has always been the method to my madness; the moments of tranquility in my days of disquiet. but over the past few months, ive found myself without the urge to write. has it been lack of time, lack of inspiration and lack of metaphor? or maybe an inner refusal to hold up the penetrating mirror that forces me to answer "how have you been?"

my profession requires me to write dozens and even hundreds of pages a week. though i love my work, the writing is rather unfulfiling in its technicality. on most days, my fullest expression of self-creativity is my choice of unmatched socks in the morning, the couple of songs i play on my guitar when i get home from work and the few rows of stitches i knit on my double-ribbed scarf before bed (a work in progress that i hope to complete before its too warm again to need it). it is the rare day at work when i read a piece of writing with a poignant sense of metaphor

is it surprising, then, that i was rendered speechless when asked why i write. after all, it would be a dishonest answer to say that i have been writing lately. and writing, like painting and roller blading and piano, becomes better and easier and more poetic the more you do it

i'm not a something-to-write-home-about writer -- the big picture often escapes my attention while i'm focused on the details. yes, the "big picture" has changed remarkably in the past couple of months. but there has also been no shortage of memorable, curious details. details like the subtle way the leaves had all disappeared from the trees when i woke up one morning. details like the cheery "good morning" i get every day from the homeless man at the corner of queen and kent. details like the indescribable way a new city starts to feel like home just because of the incredible people you meet

one of my favourite writers, anais nin, once said "the role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say". in these past few months, when i havent found my own words, the beautiful writers who pen my thoughts, feelings and fears, have allowed me to not forget myself. if it is through writing that i can better know myself, then, when i can't write it is at least through writers that i am able not to forget

its up to you, new york, new york

our trip to the big apple: the best of the best...

lunch at the carnegie deli -- yes, the sandwiches REALLY are that BIG... and do in fact cause massive digestive problems. but ohhh the pickles were yum!




times square, night tour -- pretty much feels like the centre of the universe and the buzz in the air is palpable



the manhattan night skyline, across the river, from Brooklyn


the church where Samantha met "friar fuck"



oh how i LOVED the "pleasure chest" -- except that, frankly, some of the merchandise frightened me



these four sexy gals in the city on carrie's front steps


some scenes from central park


the immigrant statue at battery park

"not only are you black, you are black africans. to the world, you are nothing"

i dont usually engage in political commentary on my blog (i usually save my political criticisms for loud and lengthy discussions with the other clerks). but i'm finding it harder and harder to stay silent in the face of more hypocrisy and blatant stupidity from the harper government

defence minister gordon o'connor has stated that canada can't deploy further troops in darfur while maintaining its current commitment in afghanistan

i have to ask what that says about our national priorities. in the face of mounting casualties in afghanistan and an elusive enemy, more and more canadians should be asking what exactly are we fighting for there? or is it simply a mission that allows the government to pander to the americans while not pissing off this country as much as the invasion of iraq would have

personally, i can't understand why the government would sacrifice sending troops to darfur in order to make a full personnel commitment to afghanistan. pull the troops out of afghanistan and send them to darfur

i guess it's not enough that the situation in darfur is tantamount to a genocide (and the genocide convention, to which canada is a party, requires action to be taken in response to any genocide). it's not enough that an estimated 180,000 people have been killed and another 2.4 million displaced. canada already has 2,300 troops serving in afghanistan. surely our army can't commit more than 100 to darfur. after all, that's africa. they are black and poor and canada has no vested interest in ensuring that the darfur crisis is halted before there is any more carnage

i deeply fear its rwanda all over again....

short but sweet

ive been remarkably, sickeningly busy recently and so i havent posted much. today's post will be short but i promise to write more soon

four things today reminded me how much i love this spring/early summer time of year:

-- the fragrant scents of lilac blossoms and freshly cut grass

-- eating lunch outside

-- the feel of warm sunlight on my bare shoulders for the first time of the season

-- starbucks frappucinos

on another note, watching sex & the city on cityTV tonight left me wondering: how come its fine for tv shows to say "bitch" on tv, but "orgasm" has to get bleeped?!

in the spring becomes the rose

on my walk home from work tonight, i felt strangely energised. i say strangely because i have been battling a cold, i didn't sleep well last night, and i'd had a long day at work. yet the sun was shining and there was a distinctive bounce in my step. i think it has something to do with the fact that its the end of april

for the past five years, this time has meant one thing -- the end of end-of-year exams and the start of a new set of activities for the summer months. for four of those years, the end of april also meant moving

this has been my first year of full-time work but my biological clock seems to still be stuck on "student". i feel that post-exam exuberance, as if there were no longer anything else to worry or stress about, and i deserve a wild night out. after my last exam each year, i would invariably clean my apartment, go on an irresponsible shopping spree, and have a long, late night of drunken debauchery

i miss being a student. for five years of post-secondary education, all of my energies were focused on getting out into the "real world" and actually making a salary rather than debt-spending. but a mere 8 months into that "real life" and i'm craving being a student again

thinking back, it's hard to believe how quickly those five years flew by. i can vividly remember the day i arrived at saugeen as a green, naive frosh from scarborough. though my life before university involved sex, drugs and alcohol, the next few years were truly a "coming of age" for me. being away from home, i had to learn quickly who i was and what i stood for, or else risk becoming lost in a sea of anonymity and apathy. i made some bad decisions, i admit, but nothing so bad that it had a lasting negative impact on my life. part of me wonders if i partied too much, or not enough. if i studied too much, or not enough. did i truly make the most of my time at university? its hard to say, since i only traveled the path that i chose. between papers, exams, nights at the rideout, drinking games, working, falling in and out of love, trips home, stobies and studying, life happened and most of the time, i didn't even realise it

the feel of spring in the air and the recent talk with M have me yearning those days of university, when i could make entirely selfish decisions and be exempted from social responsibility in many ways. i have also found myself questioning where i am now and where i'm going. prior to graduation, the sky was the limit. i was bound and determined to "make a difference", to "be somebody", and assorted other cliches. and while i've only been out of school for a year, i wonder if i have stayed true to those ideals. i hope i have and i continue to dream that way. i find myself resisting the thinking that school is done, now is the rest of your life -- get married, buy a house, have babies, and retire. i'm not ready for that yet and i think the extra energy in my footsteps today was the restlessness that i inevitably experience when i've been engaged in one thing for too long and no longer feel challenged. i'm ready for a change, ready for the may mix-up

the problem is that this year, may does not bring with it the dramatic, tangible changes of my university years. come may 1st, i will still walk to the same workplace every morning and come home to the same apartment at night. i wont be changing cities or jobs. i will have to consciously make changes in subtler ways. first off, i went to a new salon on saturday and changed my hair (though the new style was not as drastic as i wished). i have decided to start new classes and join a dragon boat team. i plan to volunteer at summer festivals. and of course, there is the trip to new york city

i hope that all of that is enough change to appease me until the end of august, when i will make a much larger transplant to a new job, new apartment and new city. in one of my favourite ani songs, she writes "i don't know what it is about me, i just can't keep still". that's how i feel so often, but particularly at this time of the year. i am excited, infused with inspiration, and in love with the world. as summer approaches i want to be on the move, meeting new people, taking on new challenges and learning each step of the way

and, i'm more sure than ever that i will apply to grad school this fall. only after being away from school do i realise how much i really enjoyed it

blog-envy

i'm in a bad mood

i'm getting sick and my office is cold. i dont feel like doing my work. im just generally grumpy, bitchy and testy

the day is crawling. i dont want to go out for coffee, since its too chilly out and me, thinking its *blink* spring, wore a spring jacket today. i just want the day to pass so i can go home and climb into bed with my kittens and a book. how will i make it until 5:00?

on moments like this, i thank god for blogs (and with my new government-issue computer with the flat-panel monitor and optical mouse, reading blogs is especially appealing in its high-definition splendour). i have spent the last few delightful minutes catching up on friends' and friends-of-friends' blogs. what a delicious little treat it is to read of others' rantings, ravings, musings and neutrotic obsessions

the unpleasant side-effect of my blog appetite, is the inevitable blog-envy. of course i'm envious of those with fancy icons that have much more punch than my standard blogspot-template, those with pictures and those with the html savvy to make their page truly a visual masterpiece (especially on my new ThinkVision flat-panel monitor). but my envy goes beyond the high-gloss finish of a more impressive blog. what i really admire is the content. as i read a particularly witty blog post, i can't help but be jealous that Ms. X discussed amusing topic Y before i did, or that Mr. Z's particularly un-notable post received more comments than mine. in the competitive world of blogs, where coolness is determined by number of hits, number of comments and number/length of posts, i fear i'm being left behind. i am so envious of certain blogs out there that despite readily acknowledging how entertaining i find them, i wont ever tell you what they are for fear you'll stop reading mine and start reading other, more entertaining, blogs

hence this rather meaningless post. woohoo... just killed another 3 minutes of this uncustomarily miserable day