Don't Shit & Speak To Me

Yesterday, I had to use a public restroom.  This is something that I do my best to avoid.  I would much rather be uncomfortable than have to use one.  It could be that I work in a public location and therefore, a lot of people frequent them and they aren't cleaned enough.  There's nothing grosser than going to expel waste from your body and doing so within a nasty environment.  Or so I thought...

I was using the urinal (it has to be a dire situation to use a stall) and a guy comes in talking on his phone. I figure that he'll at least hang up or hopefully put the person on mute.  Nope, he continues to talk all throughout.  Even while I hear him making fart sounds, etc. and couldn't help but be grossed out.

Bathroom routines always are a wonder for me.  Recently, I was at a busy event and at the break, everybody rushed to the washrooms.  I avoided the one closest to the door and found male/female washrooms close by.  I walked back to the room and the female washroom had a line 10 people deep outside of it.  I mentioned that there were washrooms down the hall and nobody was using them.  Nobody moved.  Not a single person.  They'd prefer to wait in line than just walk down a hallway?

Finally, why do so few people still wash their hands?  Hand washing routines are consistently advertised and it's how we avoid being sick and spreading germs and all that jive.  Anybody get the urge to track down their friends/family to 'out' them for being nasty non hand washers?

Got any bathroom pet peeves of your own?

Roommates?

Last night, after silently (and then not so silently) wishing my roommate would evaporate into thin air I realized I have always lived with someone whether it be family, friends, non-friends, or partners. Living with my ex was the closest thing to living alone that I’ve experienced since he travelled a lot for work and when he was there didn’t say much and generally avoided me.

My roommate experiences have been generally positive. I’ve had some of the funniest moments of my life with them. Here are some of the characters that I have cohabitated with (I shudder to think what they would all say about me):

Greg – White guy from farm land obsessed with Bone Thugs N Harmony. Stole $1000 worth of plants from our university to decorate our place.

Jen – Chain smoker, permanent beer in hand. She would give me beers as payment for hand massages while she talked about her hair.

Liz – The food stealer of the house. When we moved out we found dozens of dirty mouldy dishes under her bed. She was nicknamed “the geyser of yuck”.

Chad – Super sweet straight guy, dumb as a rock. Would often wake me up in the middle of the night to show me drawings of roller coasters he imagined. A few years ago I saw him on TV as a “Roller Coaster Expert” giving commentary about Cedar Point.

Benefits of Having a Roommate:

* Splitting bills
* Instant person to hang out with
* Stealing their food, laundry detergent, alcohol, office supplies…etc
* They can help you figure out how to set up wireless internet
* Someone to scare monsters away (or be eaten first so you have time to escape)

Disadvantages of Having a Roommate:

* Can’t walk around naked, masturbate at will, loudly watch porn
* Being accused of “kicking the crap” out of their cat
* Dealing with their weirdo Russian boyfriend
* Brings out your murderous tendencies by always being there

Conclusion: I think I’m at the point where I don’t ever want to deal with a roommate again. A boyfriend or partner…sure! But the possible cost savings isn’t worth the other things I’ll give up by moving in with a friend.

I would LOVE to hear some roommate horror stories.

I am an introverted patriot.

Bill Maher just made a statement that caused me to stop and think, 'WHAT THE FUCK?'  He stated that 45000 people die each year due to the shitty state of the health care system in the US.  45000?? So they're okay with spending billions a month on a war that is will hopefully protect them or at least would've prevented thousands dying on Sept. 11th.  HOWEVER, they will in no way push through a health care bill that would give care to EVERYBODY.  Why?  Because that's socialism.  Well I'm sorry, but I'd take socialism over dying.

Patriotism in Canada is kind of a different feel.  As in, I don't feel it at all.  I love this country and I think that we rock, but I keep it mostly to myself.  Apparently 1/3rd of us Candians watched the opening ceremonies on Friday of the Olympics.  I didn't watch it at all.  Does that mean that I'm not patriotic or just not interested in a boring ass ceremony filled with lip synced performances and the 'honouring' of First Nations by allowing them to perform for a few minutes.  Sorry, that's not patriotism to me.  

Even more odd that our Prime Minister would use this time to head on a 2 day tour of Haiti.  Should he not have been there weeks ago?  He should be in Vancouver throughout the Olympics.  Cheering on our athletes, meeting with fellow government leaders in town for the games, and showing that he actually cares for this country.  Or is this how we demonstrate patriotism?  We forget about our own country and always reach out to others first.  This sounds pretty accurate.

If I lived in the US, I'd hope that I would march in the streets to reclaim my country.  Here, I've started watching the Olympics to join in with my fellow Canadians cheer on our athletes...

Slowly a Convert

Alright.

So in a nutshell, this show is about four thirty-something white girls in new York City trying to find love while managing their careers, friendships, and the fabulousness of living in the Greatest City in the World.

And yes, I know what you're all thinking: How could Kaila W. Montanna possibly go through life without watching this iconic show from the glory days of Napster, the iBook and the first Bush administration?

Well, I don't know. Maybe it was because I was far too busy having sex in the suburbs with closeted straight men in the backseat of my car in darkened parking lots.

So with the wonder of TV on DVD's, fellow fag friend Markus has so graciously lent me all six seasons of this proverbial estrogen fest.

I watched the first five episodes of Season 1, than skipped over to Season 2. I couldn't handle the cheesey direct address to the audience by Carrie and all the other random street people of New York City. What also bothered me was Skipper, who I had originally liked but then he just became really annoying. But, I guess the old adage is true: nobody ever wants the good boy.

One of my favorite characters so far? None of them, because I relate to each of these four girls in very different ways, which must be the reason why this show is so appealing. Between Samantha's love of sex, Charlotte's vapid traditionalism, Miranda's cynicism and Carrie's heart, I can't help but love and hate and want to go out for drinks with all of these girls...but not really, because I don't think I could ever handle them in real life. A little too fabulous for my tastes, except for Miranda (only when she has short hair).

Out of all the men so far, I like Steve the most. He's adorable, sweet, and everything I could ever ask for in a man. Aside from Neil, my current lover. He satisfies me in every single way. In many positions. And with a wide array of outfits.

Now, this show isn't all that great. It most definitely contributes to the unbelievably cliche standards of love, sex and materialistic wants that millions upon millions of gay men and women all over the world strive to achieve.

We want to dress like these girls, talk like these girls, date and even fuck likes girls. We want to psychoanalyze our very own foursome-friends like these girls and no doubt internalize the fears, beliefs and neuroses of Carrie, Charlotte, Samanatha and Miranda into our own lives so we can cry like them and find love like them. Hell, my life would certainly be more interesting if I were Carrie, and fuck, I buy into the glam of it all as well. But the more I watch, the more I see what I don't want to become: just another gay guy in the city looking for random sex, love and the perfect partner while nursing my Prada Loafers everywhere I go because my paycheck can only buy me one pair every two years. It sets too many unachievable standards because... well, I am just way too far removed from these women...racially, sexually and well, I have a penis that likes other penises.

As the gay show that all gays must watch, I will continue to fulfill my duty until I can't stand it anymore.

And poor Carrie, she just found Mr.Big's wedding announcement in the paper.

Maybe I should light some candles, smoke a cigarette, nurse a glass of wine and cry with her. It would be the proper gay thing to do.

Why doesn't ANYONE LOVE ME?!!

I am surprised at the lack of anti-Valentines enthusiasm this year.

Last year it was nothing but bitching and crying over Valentines Day, the loneliest day of the year (asides from Christmas).
This year, I almost forgot--partly because Chinese New Year fell on V-day, and partly because I've just been way to busy with school. Then one day I walked into Wal-mart to buy some discount spanks and realized that the entire seasonal section (located right beside the front door) was floor-to-ceiling pink, red and gold: there were those god damn marshmallow hearts (which I love), boxes of "Pot of Gold" (cheap chocolate for the cheap heterosexual male for their whatever girlfriends) and plush animals that should have been murdered by Creepy Clown Dude from Rhubarb!

And so, as V-Day ends, I have decided to compile a list of my favorite songs with the word "love" in the title. Interesting tidbit: I typed "love" into my iTunes search and found that I only have 290 "love" songs out of 4960 (6 percent). Hmm.

And so, here goes!

The Cardigan's "Lovefool"



Jennifer Hudson's "All Dressed Up in Love"



Pat Benatar's "Love is a Battlefield"



The Rubette's "Sugar Baby Love" (conveniently, it is also the song used for a Safe Sex ad)



Donna Lewis' "I Love You Always Forever" (Which I believe I first heard on 90210)



XTC's "I'm The Man Who Murdered Love"



And finally....

Whitney Houston's "My Love is Your Love"



Happy Valentine's Day, Fuckers!

moods

Contemplative moods are never good.

For me, at least. I become very withdrawn, melancholic, and I drink a lot of wine. But I think we all have those couple of days where we just need to take a step back and be broken down for a bit. Let us recover on our own and beat out the bad.

Something that helps is music. I love music. I love, love, love music. Living would not be the same without a tune in your head... and that being said, I am going to share with you all some of my favorite tunes--the melodies that keep me up and the voices that keep me calm...

Everywhere I Go by Lissie


This song was in the final episode of Dollhouse. For those of you who know me, you will know that I think Joss Whedon is a creative genius. Though some of you would disagree, I think what appeals to me about his work is that all of it is based on the underdog, and I relate. I relate to it very well. On an artistic level, I also think that he is a genuine master of breaking your heart. In that sense, he's an asshole. But I love him.

Your Rocky Spine - Great Lake Swimmers


This is a Canadian band based out of Toronto and this song is pretty much a love song written for Canada. The lead singer has a voice that is sort of haunting--he sounds like a ghost from the ocean, whispering in your ear--and the lyrics just make me grin. I do think that this country is beautiful and I'm obviously not the only one.

Cosmic Love - Florence and the Machine


My life is one big soundtrack. This song is one I listen to while I'm running. I run to this song because it pushes me forward, it's a song that makes me want to leave the bad behind and move on and head t'ward the light. It breaks my heart with its profoundly epic treatment of love. Enjoy.

Away Too Long - Kevin Fox


Kevin Fox is a Canadian cellist. I saw him open and play for Chantal Kreviazuk at the Richmond Hill Center for the Performing Arts last year, and I can say that he is an amazingly talented musician. And very cute as well! This song is something that I'd call a recovery song... I listen to when I need a little emotional pick-me-up.

To Ohio - The Low Anthem


The Low Anthem is another band I saw live. They opened for Rachael Yamagata (who I also adore). I have a thing for string instruments, especially violin and cello, and this band has plenty of cello. It's so soothing and smooth, comforting to the ear. This song is a part of my summer driving soundtrack and calms me right down.

Then She Appeared - XTC


This really should be "Then He Appeared," but I'll re-write this tune at a later point in my life. It's an upbeat little song that is perfect to strut to on a sunny day, walking around downtown or even, dare I say it, across campus. Music can totally change your mood and this is one of those songs. And Marilyn Monroe! What an awesome bad. We need to bring back a healthy size.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Tears for Fears


This is a wake-up song. It sets the mood for the day. Some people read self-help, I listen to motivational music to get my day going. It's not too hard and not too soft. Very much a montage-song and what can I say? I love myself a cheesey montage.

I'll end it now because if I don't, this post will get waaay too long for it's own good.
What are some of your favorite songs?
Lets start sharing some tunes.

Tonight, I danced with 500 seniors.

Tonight, I danced with 500 seniors at John Mueller's Winter Dance Party.  It was me, my Mom (not quite a senior), and 500 other seniors dancing to a tribute show featuring the Big Bopper, Ritchie Valens, and of course, Buddy Holly.

Coincidentally enough, it was 51 years to the day that all three passed away in a plane crash.  I am familiar with the story as I grew up watching Lou Diamond Phillips' portrayal of Valens in one of my favourite nostalgia movies, La Bamba.  My sibs and I used to watch that all the time on my dad's beta machine (along with He-Man's X-mas, Top Gun, Stars IV-VI, and The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas).

My bf felt sorry for me, when I told him that I was going to this concert with my Mom.  Little did he know that I wasn't being a good son, but that I actually really like this kinda music.  Growing up, my sister and I would go into our play room, play dress-up and spin records.  We'd dance around and sing along to all the songs from the 50s and 60s.  One of my earliest memories as a family is all of us at our summer farm in Kingston dancing to the old records.  Oh yes, I can twist and shout, do the mashed potatoes, and all that jive.

One of the things that I enjoyed the most tonight was watching how excited these old folks got with the various songs.  One lady couldn't contain her joy and bopped around to the various tunes, while her husband sat there rather sullen.  This one guy kept doing the fist pump in the air to his favourite songs.  There was one old lady who sat by herself in the box, but was having a great time and danced a lot.  At one point, my Mom informs me that she even saw her crying.  Undoubtedly, she was remembering the times long passed that she shared with a loved one.

My fav. act was Ritchie Valens and he wisely got the crowd up and dancing.  During Oh Donna, he asked couples to come to the front of the stage to dance.  For 'La Bamba', he insisted that nobody was allowed in their seat and had to join the party.  It was like everybody was relieved to finally have the chance to dance.  People jumped out of their seats and stayed on their feet for the rest of the set.  There were many standing ovations from this point on and it was an amazing site to see so many people up and about, smiling, and having a genuinely good time.

Yes, I was probably the only person there my age, but I was there for the music.  There's the saying that Feb. 3rd, 1959 was 'the day that the music died.'  But for me, Feb. 3, 2010 was the day that the music was very much alive.

(Special thanks to my Mom for asking me to accompany here)

re: calm.

letter. from x to x.
by kaila w montanna



I don’t know where she is now or what she’s doing, but when I think back to those few short weeks on the coast, the smell of the ocean air rushes in towards me and when I close my eyes, I feel the shape of her face rise up into my mind… and I see. I can see the faint tan lines of her sunglasses on the sides of her face, the weathered straw hat she wore over her mess of wavy golden hair, and if I concentrate hard enough I can recall the patterns of freckles that sprinkled across her face, chest and arms like tiny golden sun spots, a luminous landscape of texture for the eyes. Details aside, it was her frame that caught me at first, her small petite frame, hardly taller then my thirteen-year-old cousin Alex but into the hostel lobby she walked, carrying on her back a pack twice her size, along with two pairs of running shoes tied at the laces and a worn out lime green yoga mat.

Our first encounter was simple and innocent—we met at the hostel bar her first day in. She was stopping off in V. for a week, and had traveled throughout South Asia and was moving her way across the West coast of the Americas. She had been gone for almost seven months and had another eight to go; as long as her bank account held out. That evening, the two of us made friends with a few others and spent the first sunset walking the coast, trading travel stories and skipping from rock to rock until it got too dark to see. The breeze that came in off the ocean was far cooler than any of us had expected and so the five of us settled onto a bench along the boardwalk and cuddled up against one another to keep warm. We were a bundled mass of bodies stemming from all over the world, sharing warmth, fish’n’chips and bits and pieces of each other we would never dare to share with anyone else, only strangers. Over the next few days, our group of five dwindled down to just the two of us. There was a connection that bonded our spirits, stretching from out of our past and into one another. Later that week, she prolonged her stay until my departure date. In our last few hours together, she spent a large part of it staring out at the ocean, caught up in a reverie, transfixed on something deep in the blue, as if she had spotted sunken treasure or some gem of immeasurable value. When I called out her name, she turned to me and smiled.

“The ocean. It calms me, when ever I get...lost.”

I smiled at her and told her that I felt the same way. I told her that being near it always gave me a sense of calm, made me feel like I always had a place to be. In the moments after when we were both silent, she looked at me with a solemn kind of peace, then proceeded to confide in me something that she has not told anyone; not her friends, family or any of the other traveling companions that she has met along the way. She told me the reason behind her fifteen-month excursion. And so on that night before the two of us would part forever, I sat out on the dock surrounded by a silence that filled the coast, haunted occasionally by the bellowing horn of some off-coast ship. She was positioned cross-legged beside me; her eyes pointed out into the black with her strands of her hair, glowing blue in the moon, trailing down her face. In the darkness, I took her hand, held it close to my heart and we let our silence speak for the rest of the night. I never saw her again, but wherever she is…

Are you willing to seek change?

I have a full time job that I mostly like.  I'm in a serious relationship.  I have a small group of close knit friends.  I pursue hobbies weekly.  I'm willing to give it all up.

To actually write it out, it seems a little crazy to leave it all.  But I worry that I'll become complacent with this life.

I have applied for grad school that would take me to the University of Victoria.  Why?  I think it's important to have a Master's these days.  It'll help me with the pursuit of teaching within a post secondary environment, makes me seem more credible when I open my own practice, and it's another academic challenge for me to pursue.

If I were to move, I would possibly lose my present relationship, I may not be able to return to my job, current friends would become solely online, and I may not have the same avenues to pursue my interests.

On the positive note, I would be moving to a city that is beautiful.  Simply put, mountains and water make me extremely happy and calm.  The climate is miles better than Toronto.  The opportunities would only be limited by my fear of pursuing them.  Plus, one of my besties lives there.

There's positives to both and I kinda just like to play the fate card to help ease my worry.  If it's meant to be, it's meant to be.  I could stay here, be laid off my job and simply be left with nothing.  That's a possibility.  I could move, flunk out, and be miserable.  That's another possibility.  I could go there for a year, have a great time, and still move back a year later to finish it off my Master's by distance.

I am constantly excited by the unlimited potential that we each have, but of course, I find great comfort in sticking with the regular.

It's a simple question that I put to myself and to you, are you willing to seek change?