As someone who doesn't drive, I'm constantly at the mercy of ETS (and their perpetually late buses. Are they still late if they're never on time?) It's annoying, and it does rather prevent any kind of drifting. I went walking around campus the other day, trying to clear my head to write a paper, and it was really fucking weird, to be walking without any kind of direction or set destination. It's always like that. Edmonton is not a city meant for drifting, I don't think. Maybe if you want to drift between giant shopping complexes? Drifting at West Edmonton Mall? We're a driving city, for the most part, and it doesn't work. I move through Edmonton with a purpose, and that makes me slightly sad. The best way to know a city is to walk it, get lost in it, and it's difficult to do when you confine yourself -- on purpose or not -- to the same few areas.
I'd like to do more UrbEx, too. A friend of mine was showing me pictures the other day from when he'd broken into some abandoned building a few months ago -- I can't remember where -- and it was the best thing ever. Apparently there's an abandoned train tunnel around here you can get into fairly easily, and the walls are, naturally, covered in graffiti. I'd like to move through Edmonton like that more, on a mission to see New and Exciting Things.
My laptop battery is about to die, though, and it's Friday and we're going to go celebrate the start of break with beer, AND it's hard for me to be coherent right now, because something really lovely just happened. I might edit this later, if that's allowed? Are there rules about that? I'd like to expand when I can think clearly/rationally.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
little houses on the prairie
So I'm trying to come up with a cool idea for a map that's not "here are the same ten places in the Garneau area that the rest of you are using too". The thing is, though, is that I go the same places as everyone else, even if my memories are different and all that jazz. I'm trying very hard not to be boring (hopefully I don't come off as trying too hard, y'know?), and honestly I wish I could like, hand over a list of 10 pubs or something and tell you to be on your merry way, because I think that could potentially be one of the greatest assignments of your undergraduate career. (And now I probably sound like the lush I'm not, excuse me.)
Anyways, in doing that I've gone back to thinking about places and why I like them or cannot stand them. I was having a conversation with someone earlier -- I don't know him all that well -- and we ended up talking for a while about the kind of places we'd like to live when we become Real Adults With Jobs and Lives. I have all these ideas about peace and solitude and 10 foot high hedges and rooms full of books and such, with an old oak forest out back or something. Not suffocating, but small. Protected. Everything he told me he wanted? Lots of space, or at least the illusion of it. And pine trees. Something about how growing up in this province can make you crave wide open spaces, I suppose.
I didn't grow up there, but my people live in what is possibly the most miserable province in Canada for six months of the year. Possibly all year, come to think of it. Anyways, it's Newfoundland and it's stormy the whole fucking winter (cousins had two weeks of actual snow days last year), and every time I go back I'm kind of struck by all of these tiny little houses, especially when I go to the outports, sort of just there, on the rocks. Basically holding on for dear life. The trees are like it too. But the houses are all so compact, and homey, and that's why it appeals to me, I think.
Where was I going with this? Right. Open spaces. Trees. Mmk. I used to think I hated -- or at least, really disliked -- all the open space we've got going on up here. How you can drive for tens of miles sometimes and see about one tree in the middle of a field and that's it. But I've realised over the past few months that it's not all that bad. I went skiing in Banff with my family over Christmas, and driving down there, for once in my life I didn't fall asleep as soon as we pulled out of the driveway. So I started looking at all of these fields going by, completely covered in snow, with these huge skies up above. And you know, they're actually kind of beautiful. I still feel completely exposed and rather uncomfortable around them. I couldn't live it. But it's really the same as it is back east: these trees, or these little houses, just completely exposed, clinging on. There's strength in that; it's kind of quiet, but it's lovely and it's there. (Alberta also has llama farms, and I am rather fond of that too.) I can appreciate that.
And that's what I'll keep in mind tomorrow and the next day and the day after that when I'm bitching yet again about how I can't wait to get the fuck out of here. If those trees can stick it out, I guess I can give it another go, right?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Rabbit Hole at the Walterdale PSA
Tomorrow night (Monday night), it's free for students. Just bring your ID. Show's at 8.
One of my best friends is stage managing it, she swears it's gouda. You should come.
One of my best friends is stage managing it, she swears it's gouda. You should come.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
"You think drag queens are "scary"? Well I think you're 14 and an idiot."
A couple of weeks ago, I got a text from a friend telling me that security had just kicked him out of a place...because he'd been making out with his boyfriend. Not in an OMG GROSS CHRIST JUST GO HOME AND DO IT ALREADY way, but as you do sometimes when you just can't help it. Implicit in all of this was that it probably wouldn't have happened had his partner been a girl. One summer night, too, saw me with the same friend and another guy we know, wandering around Donsdale on a drunken midnight Sobey's run (don't ask.) An Escalade started following us, for no apparent reason other than for its bro-tastic occupants to scream "FUCKING FAGGOTS" at my friends. They followed us home, too, for the same purpose.
Neither of those friends are comfortable with holding their boyfriends' hands in public. I don't know. I'm a straight white girl, I can hardly pretend to really understand the gay experience in this town, no matter how many friends I've got who identify as some variant of LGBTQ or how many times I've been out with them. I know Edmonton's not perfect. The bros above are a pretty good example of some of the worst. My teenage brother prefaces hugging his dude friends with "no homo" and was the bad kind of confused when he saw I was reading a book about drag queens (I really hope this is all a phase.) But sometimes it's hard to tell whether these are just examples of personal prejudice or indicative of a larger problem. I think both. You can't have one without the other.
On the other hand, remember back in the fall when the Westboro Church people said they were planning on coming to protest the staging of The Laramie Project? I think the counter-protest was organised in something like three days, and yet when I went, there were a few hundred people there, cheerfully carrying signs (my own made use of the Sassy Gay Friend videos on youtube) and having a total fucking blast. Linda Duncan spoke, and so did Fred Phelps' estranged son. In the end, the Westboro crazies didn't show (apparently they hardly ever do), but it didn't really matter. The solidarity that night was the best thing -- it didn't matter if you were gay or straight or polka-dotted, you just wanted to support the cause, and your friends or your girlfriends or boyfriends or parents.
Again, it's not perfect. I've seen it be pretty awful, actually. But getting to be part of something like that is proof, I guess, of the fact that not everything sucks.
Neither of those friends are comfortable with holding their boyfriends' hands in public. I don't know. I'm a straight white girl, I can hardly pretend to really understand the gay experience in this town, no matter how many friends I've got who identify as some variant of LGBTQ or how many times I've been out with them. I know Edmonton's not perfect. The bros above are a pretty good example of some of the worst. My teenage brother prefaces hugging his dude friends with "no homo" and was the bad kind of confused when he saw I was reading a book about drag queens (I really hope this is all a phase.) But sometimes it's hard to tell whether these are just examples of personal prejudice or indicative of a larger problem. I think both. You can't have one without the other.
On the other hand, remember back in the fall when the Westboro Church people said they were planning on coming to protest the staging of The Laramie Project? I think the counter-protest was organised in something like three days, and yet when I went, there were a few hundred people there, cheerfully carrying signs (my own made use of the Sassy Gay Friend videos on youtube) and having a total fucking blast. Linda Duncan spoke, and so did Fred Phelps' estranged son. In the end, the Westboro crazies didn't show (apparently they hardly ever do), but it didn't really matter. The solidarity that night was the best thing -- it didn't matter if you were gay or straight or polka-dotted, you just wanted to support the cause, and your friends or your girlfriends or boyfriends or parents.
Again, it's not perfect. I've seen it be pretty awful, actually. But getting to be part of something like that is proof, I guess, of the fact that not everything sucks.
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