THE BEST FUCKING THING I'VE SEEN ALL DAY

Alright folks, so I regularly visit AfterEllen and if you've read the title of this post, I was wide-eyed and frozen in place because holy crap what am i seeing right now??? more than a little pleased.



That is fucking ELLEN PAGE AND DREW BARRYMORE KISSING. Ellen Page and Drew Barrymore kissing! Kissing! Ellen Page and Drew Barrymore! Ellen! Drew!

Okay I'll stop.

There have been rumours about both of them not being exactly straight and more rumours about both of them not being exactly straight with each other and so I was a little excited. This was my mental monologue, "They're together! They're together and they're coming out to Marie Claire. Note: Buy Marie Claire. Oh shit, that means they're both off the market. Dammit. Dammitdammit. Calm down OrneryCornery, like you even had a chance. Well I can dream can't I? Yea whatever now shut up and stop staring like a creeper, that guy in the corner is looking at you weird".

So that was my reaction. And then I read the interview on Marie Claire. Apparently they are just really good friends. Bummer.

But this brings up something. I love lesbian couples. I genuinely crush on two lesbians who are clearly so in love with each other. And I'm not the only one.

It's not even just celebrities. I have two friends who I'll call A and B. A and B have been together since I've known them and they are just so goddamn cute together. They hold hands and whenever I see them I just want to envelope them in my arms and squish them like little bunnies. I of course don't do this because I understand personal space but I can't help my thoughts. What? Don't look at me like that.

So anyway where does this come from? Is it a lack of representation? All day everyday I see straight couples pass the dingo to each other and I just want to see some queer action? Why do I (and many others) go all Twilight for gay girls together?


Picture of Crazy Twilight Fans from here.

Capital Pride?

This is my very first contribution for the blog and I’m writing from the capital (Ottawa that is). I wanted to talk about my experience today on conquering (heteronormative) spaces in Ottawa. My first observation was that there are not a lot of gay “couples” who do what heterosexual couples do, such as holding hands, kissing in public, and public displays of affection in general. I feel like everyone here is pretty much closeted (I might be wrong since I am writing from a perspective of a Torontonian, where pretty much gay couples are left alone by the general public). But I find that over here, gay pda’s are generally frowned upon, even having a few laughs from heterosexual couples and even calling us faggots. Surprisingly, the people who gave “approval” and who were generally happy about it were older people and older heterosexual couples, which I find quite ironic in a way. It seems a bit odd and off for the capital city to be very heteronormative. Another experience I had today was at the university campus itself (of all the places); I found that there’s not very much gay visibility and that other students judged us as if we were very unusual. Ottawa advertises itself being open and friendly, however, based on my experience this weekend, it is quite the contradiction. And so I ask, where is your pride Capital City?

The Ex...

What do you call someone that you had a long term relationship with, ended things and now you're good friends?

I tend to default to calling him, 'the ex.' But I feel that term has such negative connotations about it.

You know, you're hanging with your friends, somebody walks passed and you kinda half wave at them and then hiss. Your friends are surprised at your immature behaviour and ask 'who was that?' You sneer back, 'the ex.' And everybody just gives the understanding nod. ;)

How often do we see on television ex's that get along, support each other, etc?? Not that often from what I recall.

This last week, I was able to support my ex through a difficult situation, hug him, cuddle nap with him, and it was all platonic. I had fears that it would segue into something that we'd both regret, but it never did. It was just 2 friends being there for one another.

It let me know that we are officially done, done, done and that there's no going back to what we were before. He's in a serious relationship with somebody new and that has to be okay with me.

But I need a term for him. I don't like the ex, as previously explained. I don't like 'good friend', as it doesn't spell out the bond that we have with one another. 'Friend who used to be my lover' is accurate, but a bit long.

What would you call this person?

Kai Likes...

I am a music slut.
I go from song to song, sometimes hardly finishing them because I can't help but want to listen to EVERYTHING. I want the beats and the tunes and the la-la-la's to tunnel their way into me and leave their sticky-gooey-emotion-instigating-wonderfulness deep inside of me.

And so, it's no wonder that I have come back with even MORE music--but this time, with at least 15 minutes of foreplay, which is to say, these next few songs all have a back story.

Years ago when I was just a wee-gay-lad, I lived in a small suburban town called Richmond Hill (I still live there, but now I'm a big-gay-lad). In a desperate search for something gay and fun that wasn't porn, I turned myself towards the wonderful world of literature. At Chapters. Ha! I know, Chapters--since when do they carry gay-lit? But gay-lit-carry they did and I found "Boy Meets Boy" by David Levithan. As teen writers go, David Levithan is one of the better ones (impo). The story is set in an unnamed idyllic little town in the USA, where bashers are bashed and the homecoming queen is also the high school quarterback. Levithan introduces to his readers a large cast of characters, but the one who I related to most was Tony. He's a closeted, lonely little boy from the next town over (which is not so idyllic at all) who lives with his extremely religious and disapproving parents. A year after the reading the novel I took it off of my shelf one day and decided to give it another go. This time around, I read some of the authors notes and discovered that the novel is dedicated "to Tony, even if he only exists in a song."

Cue, Patty Griffin:



It's a sad song, but combined with this sort of empowering melody it creates a weird musical experience...

And onto the next one.

I assume that I am not the only one who reads fan fiction...er...well, maybe I am. However, amidst the crap that exists our there in the world wide web, when a really talented writer takes some of your favorite characters and slashes them up into a relationship that's all sorts of heart-break and emotional regret, you can't help but be carried along with it...

Now, I am NEVER going to reveal what two popular characters this particular writer slashed about, BUT I will reveal the context of the scene where this particular song is referenced.

"When the boy turned his head, and then removed his hands, ***** could smell him in the water, could taste him, could feel that undulating wave from his retreating shoulder against his lips as though it were sun-warm skin. The boy turned and rose up through the water, his eyes blinking, sending more ripples of water down to *****, to touch him, fingers of water dragging slowly over him. He broke the surface and disappeared. At that same moment, ***** realized that he was under water, and that he couldn't breathe. He gasped, and woke.

It was raining that morning. ***** could hear the water sluicing down the stone walls outside the window. The gray light was inching its way into their dorm, the heat wave broken. ***** remembered suddenly that he had left his shirt by the lake."



Wasn't that lovely?

I now command you all to find a crush, a lover, a friend, or friends... and go skinny dipping.

I'm homeless.

Where is home?

I've been asking myself this question alot lately. Growing up, home was my parents house and the suburban Pennsylvania town I lived. I associate all kinds of good memories with that place. Christmas, Thanksgiving, high school parties, swimming in the pool...etc. In university I got my own place with some friends and haven't been a permanent resident in my parents house since. Now I visit 3 or 4 times a year and though there is the same sense of familiarity and good memories when I'm there, I feel like a visitor in that house.

At 23, I met a guy, fell in love and moved with him to the UK. Pretty soon anywhere I went with him I was at home. Our crappy flat, his childhood house, hotels in new cities...they all had a sense of home because he was there. I was comfortable and safe.

A few years later...the big move to Canada to buy our first place. At the time I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. The cracks in the relationship that were ignored in the UK became larger now that we were "settled" and eventually we decided to move on. I'm now in my second post-break up apartment and still feel unsettled and a little lost. No family in Canada and although I have great friends...we have known each other for less than 2 years. When will that feeling of safety and comfort be back?

Where do you call home? How has that changed over the years?

Kai Likes...

This is the first edition of "Kai Likes..."
Every week I will share with "Let's Be Vain!!!" readers things that Kai likes! And this week it's this sweet, hopeful and melancholic tune by Emilliana Torrini, "Sunny Road." I found this song by accident once-upon-a-summer and since then, it has been a personal favorite. I hope you all enjoy her as much as I have.

feel shitty, look pretty

About a month ago, I brought three random friends from three completely different worlds together for drinks. I was leaving in a few days and so I decided, why not? If they all have me in common, they should get along fine.

One of those friends was Thi-Ngoc, a girl that I met in my Post Colonial Canadian Lit course where the professor could never pronounce her name. And so in jest, I coined her "Trang Pak" and she dutifully bestowed upon me "Gretchen Weiners."

After not having spoken to these three friends in a while, we each took turns updating the group on our lives. Out of the four of us, three including myself were male, all of whom were going through some boy trouble--and Trang Pak, being the one who was happily single and not pathetic, imparted some friendly advice.

And the one thing I remember most? Is when she told me "When you feel shitty, look pretty." And I totally agree. It absolutely helps--and I find that I do it on occasion too. When I feel like shit, I look good to offset the crummy mood. And when I'm happy? Totally more relaxed about what I wear and how I should do my hair--sometimes I just wear hats--even though I hate hats because they make my head look really big. But I don't care!

So to all the readers of this blog, I want to share this wonderful piece of advice: "Feel shitty, look pretty!" And to make it even more effective? Tell yourself that you're hot when you look in the mirror. And don't rule out dancing naked in your room to MIKA or something. It just adds to the fun factor when you're trying to get out of a shlumpy mood.