February 2006

The sun has been shining most mornings when I wake up. The sun has also been politely hanging in the sky until after 5pm again.

Could it be? Is it possible? Perhaps spring is.. on the way?!

I feel a little bit twitchy at the prospect of warmer weather and sunshine and fresh rain and growing plants and.. AHHHHH! FASTER! MAKE IT HAPPEN FASTER!

[spring.. get it?]

I would give up Law & Order, CSI and, oh, hell, ALL television if I could just watch this instead. I have no words strong enough to describe my love for this show. No words. It’s the most beautiful thing EVER. A healthy combination of violence and.. um.. violence! What’s not to love? (As I noted in email to Lisa this morning, my blood-lust clearly comes from some primal centre in my brain – the anti-violence feminist part is paralyzed by the erotic nature of men beating on each other..)

Sometimes it’s the imperfections that make someone particularly beautiful.

I present to you: Not Well Planned.

But now I’m kind of worried – what if I DO have cat scratch fever? How do you go about getting diagnosed without looking like a complete fucking hypochondriac lunatic? I don’t really go to normal doctors, only really to naturopathic ones, and the guy I normally go to already thinks I’m an asshole because I always show up without underwear on (you’re supposed to leave your underwear on for the treatments) and sometimes I forget and take off my bra too and then lie on the table in my gown and then when he comes in and starts to treat me I remember that I’m supposed to be wearing a bra and I blurt out some dumbass sentence like “I FORGOT MY UNDERWEAR AGAIN AND ALSO I TOOK OFF MY BRA BUT I’M NOT TRYING TO PICK YOU UP” in a weirdly loud voice. Also I’m always telling him how I truly think smoking pot helps me remain sane. So if the crazy stoner chick who’s always getting unnecessarily naked goes in there and starts yapping about how she thinks she might have Cat Scratch Fever, methinks he may not take me seriously.

I think we might be related.

I love Hanne.

“Well, the way I see it, being bisexual is sensible. It means that when the right person comes along, you won’t be so likely to get so hung up on what kind of genitals or gender that person has. Also, it’s sensible to be attracted to people who are attractive.”

It goes so nicely with some of her other comments:

In a culture where sex, gender, and sexuality are presumed to be binary in nature, an identity based on insisting that you be permitted to choose neither, either, or both, at any time, without asking for permission or changing stances in order to do so — is so fundamentally rebellious as to be an act of outright anarchy. It is autocratic. Because our bisexualities come in an enormous range of flavors and tints, they are unpredictable, and any consensus we can form is acknowledged at the outset to only go so far. Our question-mark sexuality is not only resistance to the pick-a-side binary, it is an act of fiat in a culture where acts of fiat are incredibly scary. Our consistent inconsistency makes us outlaws.

In some ways, this can be said of anyone in this culture who desires openly. When we desire whom we desire, love whom we love, and fuck whom we fuck, we present the world with a fait accompli. But when we also make it clear — and this is one of the few places where our identity politics truly serve us — that our fait accompli may or may not be replicated the same way twice, we turn on the neon in our question marks and they become unmissable, unmistakable, unignorable.

Cancer (June 21-July 21)
You’ll worry about all sorts of nonsense this week. Food contaminants, bird flu, bioterrorism. Get a grip! Sure, seat belts and fire extinguishers are pragmatic, but embarking on an endless cycle of protectiveness is not. I used to play with an old machete when I was a kid, and I turned out fine! As they say in Jurassic Park, life finds a way. I’m not suggesting using a rusty nail to open the condom packet, I’m just saying chill out.

(Nerve)

Despite my husband’s delusions to the contrary, February 20th is actually a celebration of HIS bravery (with a touch of stupidity tossed in).

I love you, my brave stupid husband.

:)

With regard to the question of my recent Girl Crush, Melle and I had a brief discussion of who the girl crush ISN’T and then this:

Me: [super-secret ninja hot chick] is in [career], [nationality], totally hot. And single! And not even slightly interested in women. Heh.

Melle: Aww… Poor Dana when her dreams of hot lesbian love are shattered on the cold pavement of reality.

Y’know, I’m pretty sure she didn’t say that with even a tiny droplet of sympathy for me, either. What’s up with THAT?! Later in the same email, she informs me that she and I won’t be getting it on either. Talk about breaking a girl’s heart.

Seriously though, the best part about my friends? The mocking. How I live for the mocking. :)