Fleekin Floygn

So I'm going to Montreal in August. That is the plan. However there is one obstacle in my way and that is that I'm a cheap bastard. Still, I'm getting lots of help on that front. The transportation is being arranged by my parents as my birthday present, and it seems like my darling friend E may have found me some accommodations. Now all I have to worry about is food, perhaps some honourary compensation for my hostess, and spending money. However, an undetermined period is a lot of time by oneself in city that is schizophrenic with festivals and activities in July and than grinds to a halt come August. Clearly, I need companionship. Not of the salacious kind; God knows I'm not one of those people that needs to have a fling in every city I go to (Already done that Montreal). I'm looking more for sight-seeing, park-walking, wine-drinking companionship. So I've started the search with a couple of e-mails to funky looking guys in the Montreal area, and before anyone even judges for one second, hear me out.

I do not consider myself homocentric in the least. In fact, I often Tom Delay-esque levels of disdain with il mio communitio. Still, there are somethings that my breeder lifemates (And I love ya, yes I do), will just never get, because even though the Jews were slaughtered by the millions, and the Blacks were enslaved my the millions, and the Mennos persecuted because of their ardent love of schmofat, these prejudices/discriminations are no longer an acceptable part of this society. As much as I hate to admit it, as I hate being allied for something as base as biology, there are certain cultural and social bonds that one can share only with another person in the queer category (Let us not label. Labels are for Campbell's soup.) And as for the whole connecting via the internet. . .If you're the type who doesn't like to be downtown at night, hates any sort of performance situation, and considers Friends "edgy" than the world of cyber-communications is probably not for you. You need to read between each line that is presented towards you, and there are definite precautions you need to take, the biggest of which is trust your gut. But honestly, the biggest fault most people have through instant messaging and e-mails is that they are sinfully boring. Yes, you will encounter the odd vampire fetishist that wants to keep you in their apartment for two days without food, but hey, some people are into that. Wow, am I ever not, but you know, go with God and stuff.

So I've found a couple people worth taking to and I realized yesterday that I've just been sending them all my ramblings instead of blogging, so I'm going to pull a little cut and paste job, originally meant to save time, but now that I look at the preamble, it probably wasn't worth it, but whatever:

re: my saviour complex (developed from my first relationship in which we both needed saving. Him, from himself and his nutty fear/hate-instilling family; me, from the fiery pits of hell apparently):

The whole "saviour complex" was simply a fun fact about me; I have no aspirations to save anyone really. I just hate it when people overcomplicate their lives and refuse to make themselves happier due to fear or laziness. Maybe that's my ambition: in lieu of solving the AIDS crisis. I will instead teach the masses how to recognize what Ace of Base was trying to tell us all along: it IS a beautiful life. A major part of that is finding balance in social grace. I fully believe in manners and decorum but political correctness has become a joke; if you get your panties in a knot over being called a stewardess instead of a flight attendant, you have way too little to worry about. Go talk to a Swahili pygmy being chased by a lion. Now that's stress. And he doesn't care if you call him a pygmy, he's just happy if the lion goes hungry that day.

Essentially after nineteen years of angst and over-emotion, I learned last summer that not everything needs to be a big deal. Emotions should be savoured, not wasted.