I am....................

When I was growing up, I had the luxury of living in a fairly culturally-eclectic household. It was the 70’s and immigration had mostly been limited to Europeans. The Chinese Exclusion Act had banned any Asian immigrants from 1923-1947, and it was still a novelty to see Chinese people in Toronto neighbourhoods. They’d come by our home and wonder if we ate with chopsticks and would ask how to use them. Sometimes they would look in our backyards, thinking we had filled in the pool in place of a rice paddy.

Well, it really wasn’t like that, but there were some major cultural things that made us stand out in the community.

My best friend was this sweet beautiful Czech/German girl whom I met on the monkey bars in the park across the street. I was 3 and she was 4. She was a Tom-boy and I was a blossoming faggot. We were best friends for many years, and hung out all the time. This post isn’t about her, but her family welcomed me into their home and showed me what White folk did on a daily basis, and if not for them, I would likely be blowing my nose on a sidewalk these days, by plugging one nostril and blowing hard through the other.

In my home, the mix of cultural and ethnic backgrounds was fairly unique. My dad was born in Shanghai, China, but moved to Taiwan before the Cultural Revolution. He was a strong disciplinarian with a Mandarin Chinese accent. My mum, was born and raised in Calcutta India, raised in a British colony and had an Anglo-Indian accent. My father spoke Mandarin to my mother, Shanghainese to his parents, and English or Mandarin to us. My mum spoke the same, but also spoke a dialect called Hakka to my brother and I. When we went out with their friends or to a restaurant, they would speak Cantonese. It made for an interesting childhood, and I still get words mixed up in different languages.

The food in our home was always Fusion. Bullocks to those new-wave fusion chefs who think they were so inventive and creative in culinary design - we were doing it back in the 70’s. Everything we ate, had an Asian or Indian flair to it. Neighbourhood BBQ’s were always interesting, because we would have Tandoori chicken or spicy BBQ chicken wings – way before wings were considered normal to eat.

The differences certainly made life interesting. We never had desserts after dinner. Fruits were dessert, and the occassonal bag of chips or jello were a treat. So, when I went over to my friends place across the street and looked in her mothers’ cupboards, I was dumbfounded to see things like fruit roll-ups, beef jerky, candies, cookies, Kraft Dinner, Pogo sticks etc. In contrast, our cupboards were stocked to the rafters with dried fish, dried squid, salty preserved prunes, Thousand year old duck eggs, and Chinese preserved sausages.

Thousand Year Old Duck Eggs

When we had our White Canadian friends over, we didn’t have much choice in what we could offer. Honestly, pickled fish, sea cucumber or duck eggs on toast aren't something your average White kid is gonna want to chow down on, so over the years Mum began to introduce new and fascinating things into our pantry that were a little more appetizing for the neighbourhood kids. Popsicles , pop and Premium crackers with cheese or peanut butter became the staple around our home.

Food wasn't the only thing different. I would often observe my friends talking back to their parents or ignoring them, and was completely flabbergasted that their parents didn't smack them across the side of their heads. In my household, if I refused to take my arms off the table, my Dads' chopsticks would turn from Culinary utensil into a "flying Beat your ass silly" weapon. I still can't believe how fast his hands moved. He'd be picking a slice of gelatinous ducks egg off a plate one second, the next, the chopstick would be leaving a red nasty mark on my hand for having disobeyed his rules.

Asian parents really have no qualms about disciplining their kids. This may seem like an over-generalisation, but in Asian culture, respect, honour, family and obediency are tantamount. If one fails any of these, their ass is grass. Simple as that. When I got in trouble, I knew what was coming. I simply wasn't intelligent enough to avoid it. And if I had the gall to speak up and say something back, it was like watching a Phoenix rise from the ashes. My fathers eyes would slant and his face would turn a beet red. You just either ran and screamed like a girl, or you just stood there and took the fury that you brought upon yourself.

When I think about it now, globalization and multiculturalism have really made some major strides. Growing up in the 70's as a Chinese kid was pretty cool, because you were the first real wave of new Asian immigrants in a long time. It was the beginning of multiculturalism and of acceptance, and though there were many many episodes where I wanted to be invisible, and not stand out, I also am thankful for what it has taught me. I was experiencing the world as it changed, as it accepted people. My perspective and identity have been shaped by each of those experiences, be they good or bad. I have ingrained in me a sense of belonging and diversity that far exceeds simply being Asian, gay, Mandarin, Shanghainese, Hakka or Indian. I am all of these things, proudly wrapped in one phrase...

I am Canadian

emptiness & cigarrettes

I walk through this city and see broken templates of future adults. Broken people, whose lives are spread out on benches, doorways or street corners. I wonder what it is exactly that has put them here on these streets. Some show burden on their dirty faces, some move with a disconnected energy brought on by meth abuse. The visual effects are dizzying as you see them move, arms swinging exagerratedly, scratching at their crystalised skin. Bodies taut and toned, but suffering to the very core.

It’s 8:09 am and the Chinese men and women are exercising in the park. They have just thrown bread for the pigeons who waddle and peck hungrily at the ground. A few metres away, a shirtless man of about 17 is also searching the ground, moving with a disjointed desperation, until he finds a half smoked cigarrette. He pockets it, and continues his picking. I walk by him and he pays little attention to me but to move aside. He glances up at me briefly and I look directly at him. The body is dirty with earth and the arms have scratches and broken vessels. He looks at me, but the look is hollow and despite the heat, I feel a shiver run through my body. The emptiness in his eyes is like a black hole, and I have to turn away. I am afraid that I will get pulled in. Then I think, maybe he turned away because he couldn’t bear to look at me.

Funny, how humbling a look can be.

I walk away, but my heart already hurts for I too have lost a friend to the streets.

I wonder where his parents are, what they are thinking. Does he think of them, or just the cigarrette in his pocket.

The foolish antics of a foolish child

When I was kid, I used to believe everything required fair attention and treatment. I was a bit neurotic about this and would kiss each of my stuffed animals equally before I went to bed. If I kissed one cheek on my bunny, it meant I had to kiss the other side, so that the other side wouldn't be jealous. This of course, meant I had to do the same double kiss to all my stuffed animals. Invariably, bedtime took an hour because of this ritual.

When I used to walk to and from school, I would count how many steps I took on each square block of pavement so that the next would also receive the same treatment. If I started with my right foot on the first block and ended on my left foot, the next square block would mean I would have to start with my left foot, and end with my right. If I went to school on the East side of the street, it meant I had to go home on the West side of the street. The next day I would have to reverse it.

Looking back on all this, one might think it were a bit Obsessive compulsive, and I wouldn't blame them. I often find myself repeating things over and over again, not even realising I have been doing it. It seems to occupy my mind while I mentally mull over things, sort of like elevator music while grocery shopping. I've grown used to it and I've also toned it down. No longer do I count my steps and the amount of times I bite my food on my left, or right side.

All of this I believe might have some bearing on why I am always able to argue and see both sides to an issue. I find it particularly frustrating dealing with bull-headed individuals who aren't willing to step out of their sheltered coccoon to discuss and converse about ideas, be they in agreement or not. One can never agree with everything another person says - that's absurd. I recently told Nomi that as friends we can't just blindly agree with one another because we think we have to. As good friends we have to be willing to say the truth, and in turn be willing to hear the truth. That's what friends are for. That is what friends are.

The frustration wasn't any different then my childhood OCD complex. If I was somehow prevented from completing my "equalizing" exercises (so I call them now), I would fret and freak about not having done things properly. If I was walking home with a school friend who insisted on walking on the West side, when everyone knew that we had to walk on the East side, I would plot revenge on my fellow walker for thwarting my attempts at satisfying my mania.

It wasn't until I was older that I began to realise how truly odd I was. Well, "realisation" is not so much the word as "obvious". It comes fast when kids call you "freak" or "loser" all the time. I wasn't exactly a kid that attracted the right kind of attention. I was always in trouble, and considered a bit of a scholastic moron. Grades were not my forte and math was even worse and I have the strong suspicion that I had Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). All of these characteristics are still there, but rather than run from them, I suppose I embrace it now. When you're a lonely kid on the outside, you can either choose to completely turn inward, or you try harder to succeed and thrive.

Mum and Dad actually thought I was retarded and were scared to have another kid. They love to regale their friends and family with the story of how as a child I would bang my head quite violently on the bed or pillow to go to sleep. The story goes that when they came to Canada and visited my A-po (grandmother) they put me to bed in my crib. I immediately started to bang my soft little head on the pillow to the horror of my grandmother, who in turn also thought I was retarded. They left the room and came back 10 minutes later to check up on me and found the crib had moved across the wooden floor from one wall to the other.

This odd behaviour developed even further as I grew. I could never sit still, never focus, and would lie about just about anything. As mentioned before, I have always had a salt craving, and love chips. My mum does as well, and she would often stock her cupboard with bags of chips. I would come home from school, tear a bag open and eat it, then stop in horror at what I had done. In desperation, I came up with the brilliant idea to take a pair of scissors and chew the bag up, later claiming mice were in the house and had gotten into the bag. My poor parents actually entertained this and went out and bought mouse traps filled with peanut butter. When we didn't catch anything, I told them it was because they didn't put chips in the trap.

This brilliance of mine got me in more trouble than I'd like to say, like my Report card episode, which I wrote about before (re-excerpted below)

---------------------------------------------------

I still remember Report Card Day, when report cards were handed out, for us to give to our parents. Who does such a thing? I was terrified, and upon opening it to see a plethora of C’s, D’s and the occasional E, I decided it would be a brilliant idea to use Liquid paper to cover them over and write in a more acceptable grade. Completely oblivious to my own stupidity, I also decided it would be completely unnoticeable if I liquid papered the scathing comments section:


Alex , although bright, is , often lazy and un willing to do homework. His lack of focus is evident in his lack of rewards and accomplishments in class.

I looked upon my handy work and thought how brilliant I truly was, and how my teacher was more of an idiot for failing to see my hidden genius. I thought the mark of an intelligent man was in how they covered up a major fuck up. Of course, my parents weren’t stupid. They knew something was up, upon opening an already opened report card to see half the report card covered in crackling lumpy liquid paper. It might have worked a little better had I given the liquid paper time to dry, instead of trying to score the letter into the moist liquid paper like a kid carving his name in wet cement. Needless-to-say, the whole plot blew up in my face.

------------------------------------

My attempts at covering up my stupidity are many, and nowadays I don't bother. I just admit to them. There really is no point. If I couldn't fool the adults as a kid, I can''t fool them now.

Tagged

...Tagged by Sister Staceypatrick.

10 years ago:I was still in University studying Fine Arts Theory and Psychology, but spending more time in the pubs. I was living in Richmond Hill at the time, with a 2-3 hour commute to school or downtown. I was 6'1, and weighed 145 pounds wet.

5 years ago: I was a newbie working for the Wireless telecom company I am at now. I was in the process of making my first move away from home, to live with my best friend AM (aka. Monkey). I was a little too heavy into the party scene, and JLo's song "Waiting for Tonight" was all over the charts. I was 6'1 and weighed 148 pounds wet.

1 year ago: A lot had happened since the move to Toronto. 1 Year ago, I was living at my condo (2 years by then), and was figuring bits and pieces about my life and gluing them together. I was in a major spiritual, mental and emotional transition. I had been blogging since December 30th, 2003. I had just gotten back from China in mid June, and it had begun to change my outlook on life. I was also having major stomach gas issues, not that any of y'all needed to know that. I was 6'1 and weighed 148 pounds wet
Yesterday: I finished a rather busy but productive day at work, and went home to find RB busy playing with himself. I ignored him of course and decided to cook roast chicken and steamed broccoli, with rice. RB of course wanted me to cook a salmon recipe that I told him about, so I sent him off to go get 1 large salmon filet with skin, which of course 30 mins later he returns with 2 small filets with no skin, and 2 filet mignon steaks. Needless to say, we had a large dinner, much to his delight. We then watched Kill Bill2, and went to bed. Also noticed that the refurbishment of the Condo corridors is going well. Exciting, I know. I am stll 6'1 and have no idea how much I weigh.

Today: An aberration. I woke up pawing RB. Came to work, made fun of RB and wrote another post regarding a Police Brutality with 51 Division ona freinds bar/restaurant establishment. Please read it below...it made me angry as hell. It is still 11:14 am. I checked, and I am 6'1 and weigh 154 pounds with underwear on.

Tomorrow: I may go see parents, but want to also visit friends P&G, and maybe go swimming.

5 snacks I enjoy: Chips, snow peas, edamame beans (Soya beans), pickles, peanut butter (straight outta the bottle)

5 bands/singers that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: Depeche Mode, Pet Shop Boys, The Cure, Sarah Maclachlan (you know which era I gre up in, right?)
5 things I would do with $100,000,000: Pay off mortgage for parents, brother, and myself. Help out family a bit. Take a vacation and bring friends along to some nice hot private island. Buy property and build my dream home, and open my own business and go to school. Start up a fund for inner city kids scholarships, and with all that money donate to a few of my fave causes.

5 locations I'd like to run away to: Dunno about runaway, but it would have to be close to nature with water, mountain and sky: Carribbean, Australia, New Zealand, Morocco, Spain.

5 bad habits I have: I am terribly forgetful, never remember names/faces, plan on doing big reno projects but never start, chew my nails, appear a little too dominant or pushy at times.

5 things I like doing: cooking, entertaining, writing, having interesting conversations, relaxing and being introspective.
5 things I would never wear: over-sized clothing (a la hip-hop, rap), things with large labels, gold, stilhettoes

5 TV shows I like: Discovery channel things, Rough Cuts (CBC), documentaries, This Hour has 22 minutes, ick Mercer's Monday Report, that's about it.

5 movies I like: The Breakfast Club, Finding Neverland, Joy Luck Club, Memento, Le Violin Rouge.

5 famous people I'd like to meet: Kurt Vonnegut, Oprah, Ellen Degeneres, Belinda Stronach, the devil.

5 biggest joys at the moment: RB (Rib Breaker), my friends, my new found honesty in life, health, sun.

5 favorite toys: RB (Rib Breaker), camera, blackberry, piano, cookware set.

Tagging: Hasn't everyone already been tagged?

Police Brutality during Pride: A mis-use of power

Hi All, Please read this and spread the news around. I know Amir from long ago, when he first opened the bar, and thoughI have not heard this information directly from him, I am concerned that if true, it should be of concern. I too was harrassed many years ago by officers (but from 52 division) who made fun of my surname and also called me a Chink and gook. I wasn't manhandled or beaten, but I have had enough questionable incidences with police to warrant a little suspicion. I got this from a friend who pulled it from the message forum from FAB: the Gay scene magazine.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

This is an open letter from Amir at Bar Babylon outlining his side of events that transpired there last week. (I've grabbed it off of the Tribe message Board).

The whole incident leaves a bad taste in one's mouth. I hope that amir and his family are OK and that things work out soon (and in their favour)
______________________________

to whom it may concern;

my name is amir ebrahimnia. i am the owner of babylon martini & musique boutique at 553 church street in downtown toronto. we are a well-known, award winning establishment with an international reputation as one of the finest martini bars in north america.

on saturday june 25th of 2005 my family and i were brutally assaulted and humilliated by a handful of city public and peace officers.

my intent with the following story is to get the truth to my patrons and everyone who has shown such support for us. i need to set the record straight. i think it is important for the truth to be told.

here is my full statement on the events leading to my arrest on saturday, june 25th, 2005.

i was at work, behind the third floor bar, when approached by a staff member and told of a confrontation on the first floor. i quickly left my post and ran downstairs to find my father surrounded by 6 or 7 plain-clothed gentlemen and and a woman. the gentlemen were all large, over 6 ft. tall and were, on average, all 300 lbs. each. the woman was about 5'4", small figure, short dark hair. as i approached the gathering and quickly realized my father was being ridiculed and insulted for his accent.

there were two men hassling him and arguing with him, while the others approached me. thats when the argument started. they asked me to close the bar; i asked them why. they stated i was over-crowded. i argued with them on the facts and they did not want to accept my concerns. i agreed to close the bar. they asked me to start up on the 3rd floor and move it down.

i went to the 3rd floor, turned on the lights from behind the bar, i then approached the dj booth and cut the music. i then had to tell my clientele why they were being asked to leave.

i told them, how i had been in business for 11 years. i told them how 9 out of those 11 years we had never had a problem such as the one right now. and i told them this would probably be the last time my business would be open. and with everything happening right now, there would be no way i could afford to open up again. they had destroyed us.

the customers listened and we shook hands. good-byes were said and the room was cleared. i then continued to the second floor where i did the exact same thing. lights, music, goodbyes.

as i was finishing up with the second floor, there were 5 of the mentioned gentlemen observing my actions to inform my costumers of what was actually happening. as i walked by them to head for first floor, one of the officers elbowed me. they started arguing with me again. one of them tried to tell me what a fool i was making of myself, while another gentleman pretended not to understand my accent. in reality, i don't really have an accent – as anyone who knows me is aware. my parents do. another gentleman called me an idiot several times and said how i wouldn't be in this situation if i wasn't an idiot. the back-and-forth insults continued. one officer started pushing me. i told him not to touch me, he asked what i would do about it? another officer continued to call me an idiot as another shoved me. my mother (60 years of age) started to scream "why? "why are you doing this to us??" they told her to shut up as they continued to push and insult me. she came forward to help me and they grabbed her and man-handled her. she fell ill to the ground; i panicked and asked everyone to calm down.

they wouldn't back up.

they reached for my mom, not to help her but to hold her out of the way. my father came up and joined the confrontation.

up until this point, there were no physical contact between any of us and the officers. as a matter of fact, up until this point, no badge was shown by the ladies and gentlemen in question. i made them aware of this fact at this point. that’s when one officer pulled out his badge as he started laughing; "are you happy now? boy, now you’re really fucked"

another officer turned to me and said; " i will make it my life-long hard-on to fuck you, my friend," as he chuckled and turned around.

we took my mother downstairs to the first floor and laid her down on the couch. she was having difficulty breathing. i approached two officers by the front door and asked them for help, and to call 911. one chuckled, while the other one gave me a look as if i wasn't speaking her language, and said; " you have a telephone. you dial 911"

i ran behind the bar and dialed 911. i spoke to the 911 operator, gave my name & address and was explaining her condition - when again, the officers entered the property to my twelve o’clock and tried to force my parents out of our property. they went for my mother and that’s when i threw a martini shaker at the wall to my three o’clock, yelling at them to leave us alone. by this point, the bar had been cleared of all customers. there was only myself, my mother, father and 3 bartenders. there was absolutely no reason for them to still be on my property. the bar was shut down. they were not helping an emergency. they were not serving or protecting anyone.

this was their time for sweet payback. all the back-and-forth name-calling upstairs and making them feel small in front of customers. along with the obvious knowledge of dealing with minorities. these officers felt it would be appropriate to attack us.

i was brutally attacked by what seemed to be all of them. they ran behind the bar where i was still on the phone with 911, and as i screamed for help the phone dropped and i was pummelled to the ground. i was continuously punched in the face, kicked in the ribs, and twisted. i thought at first that they wanted to arrest me, so i loosened my arm for them to handcuff.

instead, my arms were stretched out so i would be out of fetal position while i was viciously assaulted. one officer grabbed me by the hair and started smashing my head on the tile floor while another officer was smashing my neck, face, shoulders, and knees with his boot, pounding it down on my face, neck and shoulder.

they said things like," you had to be a fucking smartass didn't you." , "we're so gonna fuck you up. oh boy, your gonna wish you were dead when we're through with you."

they kept on saying stop resisting arrest while i wasn't resisting arrest. when i realized they wanted more than to arrest me, is when i tightened up. i really didn't know what to do anymore. i thought somebody was going to die - either my mother on the couch or me getting pummeled by 8 huge 300lbs gorillas who were very much enjoying the festivities. i could feel them enjoying it. i could hear what they were saying. and yes, i do speak & feel in english.

i repeatedly asked them to stop. i told them i wasn't resisting. “please don't hurt me.” i begged them to stop, but they all wanted to get a punch or a kick in.

finally, when it ended, they hand-cuffed me and took me out to the police car waiting outside.

the police car took me off, pulled over on gloucester street, stopped the vehicle and read me my rights. they asked me if i understood; i said yes.

i asked the officers to loosen my cuffs because they were on too tight and were cutting my circulation, they told me the cuffs would come off when we got to the station. we got to the 51 division police station and had to sit and wait for a good 30 minutes for the door to open so the police car could enter the garage bay. the officers driving the vehicle felt sorry for me and loosened the cuffs. to the officers’ observation, my hands were white, cold and clammy.

i entered the station, where i was taken to a room and strip-searched. they made me take off my clothes and turn everything inside out. i was then asked to lift my scrotum and then my leg.

all dressed up again, i was taken to an interview room/cell. i could feel the air conditioner was turned up. i can only assume on purpose.

after 2 hours in holding, i was visited by one of the officers who had assaulted me earlier. he read the charges against me:

1 count; obstruct peace officer C.C. 129(a)
1 count; assault with weapon C.C. 267(a)
1 count; resisting or obstructing public or peace officer C.C. 129(a)

i was asked if i understood. i said yes. he told me i had to appear for finger-printing and picture-taking and to hear the court date.

i was asked to sign several papers. one of which was included that i had refused to make my phone call. being that it wasn't true, i refused to sign this particular form. they did not seem to mind. they had their fun already. it was all back to procedure again for our officers of peace.

i was free to go.

though severely injured, i did not seem to feel the pain till the next day. i went to my parents’ house to check up on my mother. she was still in shock, kept crying and screaming. my father was in no better shape but we were being strong to make sure she's ok. my mother wouldn't say anything. she just kept shaking and crying and cursing this country to hell.

neither one of us has slept in 4 days. we close our eyes and see saturday night. i find myself fighting in bed. cursing and swearing at my imaginary 51 div. officers. i am bruised from head to toe, but that will heal.

what will not heal is being humiliated. being insulted and beaten by the men who patrol not only my place of work, but also my neighborhood of residence.

my father, who is a very well-known and well-respected iranian businessman being treated like a monkey.

one officer in question, the female officer with the short dark hair to be exact, would tell him to stand aside and point to a specific spot for him to stand. he would do so. she then told him not there. there. as they pointed to across the room. he'd go stand there. they'd again point in the opposite direction of the room. not there! here! several times until finally they kicked him in the ass and tossed him out of our own property. they chuckled. they made fun of him. they ridiculed us.

when they got us all out of the property, they took all the bottled liquor and dumped all the bottled beer from the fridges down the sink. they left the fridge doors open . to make sure the fridge compressors would burn out. tables and chairs thrown around. glasses broken on purpose. they ransacked the bar completely making sure it would be impossible to open up. ever.

we have been made examples of. they wanted to show what they could do, the power they hold, and they assumed there would be nothing we could do about it.

the next day, (pride sunday), the pain started to kick in and the swelling became obvious. i was at home, on alexander street, as i found myself having difficulty breathing.

i dialed 911 at noon. the 911 operator asked me the regular questions, address, what was wrong, and how did it happen. i answered her questions and she informed me the ambulance would be here shortly and for me to leave my door open.

by this point i couldn't walk. both my legs and ankles were trampled. nothing broken. just a lot of excruciating pain. my head injuries were worsening, i was nauseous and the vision in my right eye was blurry. going in and out of consciousness. my left shoulder felt dislocated and my right elbow wasn't in much better shape.

i waited and waited for hours. no ambulance. at 2:30pm i received a phone call from a sargeant from 51 division asking me if i called for an ambulance. i told them i had called 911 2 hours ago. she informed me an ambulance could not be sent to me unless accompanied by a 51 division officer escort. i asked her why, she stated because of the nature of my injuries. i told her i needed an ambulance and under the circumstances, i did not want the presence of a 51 division officer. she told me, "no ambulance then?"

i insisted i needed medical help. they refused to send an ambulance with out an officer. yet they wouldn't say they are refusing me. just that it would have to be with an officer. i asked for 52 division; they refused. it had to be 51 division.

i turned her down.

again, i called 911 for the second time at 3:00pm. they sounded scared to send an unaccompanied paramedic team to my location. i had been charged with assaulting a police officer. i was considered dangerous. i asked them several times; "are you refusing me medical attention?" they said no. again i asked for an ambulance but without saying no, again they gave me the run around. "not without a police officer." or "so do you want an ambulance?" over and over again...

"do you want an ambulance?"

"yes i do. but i don't want a 51 div. officer! bring the swat team for all i care! i don't want 51 div. anywhere near me! i want an ambulance!"

"not without 51 div. officer" ; "do you want an ambulance?"

the broken record continued. i dialed 911 five times on sunday, and finally i agreed to the 51 division patrol to accompany the paramedics.

the ambulance arrived at 7:30 pm. there were no officers.

i was taken to st. michaels hospital and examined. nothing broken. lots of shock to my body. visible bruises to my face, ankles, knees, ribs, elbows and shoulder. i had my x-rays taken. the doctor suggested i go right away to the police station and report the assault. he spoke to someone at 52 division and they were expecting me with a forensics officer to photograph the injuries.

i am very happy to say that the way i was treated at 52 division was the difference of night and day from their counterpart peace officers at 51 division. they felt bad for what had happened. the forensics officer whom examined me, felt so bad he apologized for the wrong some police do. he has been a cop for over 25 years and it made him sick to see this kind of behavior. he even joked and said; "no offence, but i couldn't see you beating up anyone."

he's right. i'm 5'6" and weigh 138 lbs.

all said and done. still remains the humiliation.

this is not why we immigrated to your country. this is not why we contributed to your canada. this is not what we left our homelands for.

we are not your slaves. we are not yours to do with as you please. just because someone doesn't speak your language, it doesn't make them a baboon. we did not commit such a crime to be treated like animals. we were over-crowded.

the city of toronto invites millions of people to come celebrate a gay event on a gay street with 4 blocks in length. there are about 20 licensed establishments that have to cater to the invited. the beer gardens close at 11:00pm. and liquor license is extended till 4:00am to only selected establishments. where do you expect the crowd to go after 11:00pm?

why is it, we never see the police or the inspectors all year sometimes, but always on gay pride? how is this not systematic?

while the beer gardens are in operation, there is no business for us. yet the inspectors NEVER show up before 11:30pm. they enjoy giving the crowd half an hour do disperse to the bars before they come in with their sticks.

those are the facts. as ugly as it may be. again, i'd like to thank you all. our costumers were our family and friends. the neighborhood has brought us nothing but the joy we have experienced in the past 11 years. my family and i have learned a lot from the village and it has made us better people.

it was an honor to serve you.

thank you all for taking the time to read this statement. and i wish you all a wonderful canada day.


kind regards,

amir ebrahimnia
babylon martini & musique boutique

Readership Discretion Advised

Fair warning - If you don't want to read about sexual content, don't go further.

------------------------------------

Is sex really all that important, and how much do we really need? I used to think that I was a hyper-sexualised being, but since meeting Rib Breaker, I am beginning to think otherwise. Here are a few examples of Rib Breaker-isms:

- I often wake up to RB on top of me, trying to get me aroused. This of course can be at any hour of the morning or night.

- I often continue to pretend to be asleep, which he takes as a fantasy game, and makes him even more aroused. He thinks I am trying to play "hard to get", when in fact he is the only one "to get hard".

- I cannot change, shower, brush my teeth or cook, or do dishes without him coming behind me to grab my ass to get busy with me. I think it arouses him, to see that he can get sex, and have food and clean clothes within 1 hour. I am a muti-tasker.

- When he wakes me up in the morning with his prodding and grabbing, I tell him in a gruff parental voice, "Alex cannot come out to play!". His reply is "That's fine. Can I come in to play?"

- RB's belief is that if he cums a lot, it means I have been neglecting him. Apparently, the amount also proves his fidelity and monogamy to me.

- This past weekend, I took him to the Molson Indy as a pre-birthday gift. It was awesome, but it made him hornier than expected. Now if he watches Speed TV and sees me in the room, he gets aroused. I am thinking of cancelling Cable.

I guess this is "love"...

Rib Breaker has been away since last Friday at a cottage with of all people, one of his Ex’es and some other dudes. He drove out to visit his mum in North Bay as well for a day, and then called me Sunday freaking out cause he realised he forgot to leave the spare keys for my mum when he left Friday morning. He thought the dog was stuck in the home. The goof. Anyhow, I miss him terribly and can't wait to see him this evening when he returns. We’ve become very much enmeshed in each others lives, but I also enjoyed my time away from him, to focus on friends and other aspects of my life. I am sure it is the same with him. The night I left for the cottage (last Thursday) we had dinner together, and parted with a kiss and grope at my door. We haven’t really been away from each other all that much since the beginning of the relationship, so we were all sappy. When he closed the door and I headed to the elevator, I decided to run back to my suite for just one more hug and kiss. Just as I was about to open it, he opened the door with the same intention, and we hugged. I love that about him. He has really opened up and been willing to show feelings which is a marked change.

A few weeks ago he and I chatted at some length about our relationship and where it was going. I told him that he needed to open up and communicate with me, as he tends to gravitate to being a quiet private person. I didn't expect the change in him when I set down these certain parameters to our relationship. He started talking about his childhood, his fears, future and why he couldn't say "I love you". It hurt to hear a lot of it, but in many ways it made me love him more, because he confided in me for the first time. During our chat he told me he has no one to talk to, and has never digressed any of his feelings and emotions before. I asked if he ever spoke or confided in friends and he said “No”. He certainly feels comfortable enough with me to cry, laugh and show emotions, so I am hoping that there will be something there to work on.

He quietly said to me in his sheepish way that he didn't understand how or why I hung around him, what with all the mistakes he makes. I replied that it was a choice on my part to work on things, and that I did love him. I have never said it before to anyone else with such conviction and trueness. In the past I would have been bored or tired of the situation and moved on to what I thought were bigger and better things. I realise now that my pattern of behaviour was to find fault in others so that I could push them away, before I was pushed away. It was definitely a defense mechanism I built that protected me from being hurt. It obviously was not a very healthy way to live, but I see that same pattern in RB at times, and we have spoken about it. He and I are of very different worlds, but so much more similar than we would like to let on. We both know how to push people away. Hurt and pain can do that to a person. We have taken a few breaks from one another to figure things out, but always seem to return, but the difference now, is we talk about it. I suppose these days, my new view on life has filtered out a lot of the bitter edge of skeptism that I can/could be loved. I hope the same for him. It seems he does realise this - as we lay on the couch 2 weeks ago, he in my arms, he turned to me and said “I’m beginning to realise and understand. I’m a bit slow and take time, if you are willing to wait.”

Oddly, I bumped into one of his ex’s on the street last night whom I get along well with. He confided that he was pleasantly surprised to see RB still with me, and thought it had something to do with my patience, forthrightedness and directness with RB. He did indicate that RB has never been the relationship type, but I guess I am in for the long haul and willing to see what happens. It is now approaching 9 months and we still have a lot of things to work out and learn about one another. I am not one to give up on people or life, and believe if anything, we will be part of each others lives for a long time, even if not as partners.

Note: I bought 2 tix to the Toronto Molson Indy for Sunday, as he is a car fanatic and once wanted to learn to be a race car driver. He doesn’t know I did this yet, but I thought it would be a nice pre-birthday gift for him. Will let you know what it’s all like after.

Storm pictures June 2005

These pictures were taken courtesy of my friend Craig from his Balcony looking North over Toronto. The storm hit pretty quickly and was quite an incredible sight. I meant to post the pictures sooner, but here they are now for you all!

Cottage Pictures

So here are some of the pictures from the cottage weekend in the Kawartha's. I failed to mention in my last post that 3 of us boys were attacked by seagulls, as we rode past their damned nest on the Sea Doo. It was like a scene from Alfred Hitchcocks The Birds. The damned "rats of the skies" were dive bombing on us and tried to peck our heads. I gave one a good smack across the belly. I swear to god those muther fuckers should die. They should become a new Chinese delicacy or something - just to spite them.


Water safety

Boys and their toys

Lakeview

Always need a foot shot

Where I sat most of the weekend



Kayaking B&W

storm clouds and sunset

Me & AM

Reflections of a great weekend

Un hiatus-ing

Hello boys & girls,

I am back. This time far more relaxed and a whole lot more sane. Time was needed to detox my brain and body and I am feeling awesome. Was up at a friends cottage this past long weekend (pictures to be posted later), after a long crazy Pride weekend, so the quiet and rest was very much needed.

As a side note, I will be posting my personal stuff on this new site and will keep my old site for other stuff.

Feel free to add the other to your lists etc.

Love and hugs,
epi

hiatus

Hi All,

I am taking a hiatus, a leave of absence...could be a few days, maybe more - I don't know. Some turn of events and major changes have reared their heads and I gotta work it out and focus on myself for a bit.

Take care of yourselves and be well.

~ epi

Not a Kind(er) Surprise

I generally enjoy surprises, or unexpected gifts. I'm not talking about the Kinder Surprise variety. Don't even get me started on the crap factor with those. Whoever decided that a crappy sticker or joke on a piece of cardboard was a cool surprise should be shot.

Kinder Cardboard Toy...WTF?

I'm talking about the totally unexpected. You know the kind, when you take a different route home and bump into a friend or see a cool site? It's a satisfying and fullfilling turn of events that just makes you smile. It may even hang around for a few days, reminding you of the moment, bringing a smile to your face.

Well, a few days ago, as I walked home in the sweltering heat I decided to take a side street to look at a few of the Victorian homes and their gardens. I have this passion for architecture and especially for gardens, so it was a nice change to walk under the cool graceful shadows of the elms and maples.

As I was walking and thinking about how pretty things were, I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge that just completely overtook me. I had been gasey all day, and attributed the feeling to the spicy Korean food the night before. But, as I turned onto Church street I let out a series of tiny innocuous farts. I walked a little further, and had a look around to ensure no one was watching, then patted my ass just to ensure any remnants of gas would dissipate so that if someone walked behind me, they wouldn't catch wind of it. Classy I know, but you know me, always thinking of my fellow man/woman.

Anyhow, I walked merrily on my way and decided to stop at my brothers house to see if the deck sealant had dried properly, from my job over the weekend. By the time I had gotten through his door, I was already sticky with perspiration. The sweat had run down my back and unfortunately, my butt cheeks felt kinda sweaty too, so I decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up and dry off.

I wasn't quite prepared for the my 'unexpected' surprise. It seems that my fart wasn't quite as innocuous as thought. It was more on par to peanut butter between bread, but I digress. I cleaned up with haste and went home and tossed my undies into the garbage and had a good long shower. I hate it when this happens, because I invariably always wear expensive underwear on days like this. There wasn't a mark on them, but I wasn't about to keep them either. I do have standards you know!

Anyhow, the Moral of the Story my friends is that this was a Kinder Surprise. And like ALL Kinder Surprises, they suck shit. They aren't satisfying, and definitely not fullfilling, and you always end up throwing them out.

Taking A Step & Getting Involved

The last post and all the associated comments got me thinking about our community as a whole and the issues that affect them. We often write or kvetch about them, but I began wondering what we could do to possibly make a change. The written word, the pen and our voices are stronger than we think, and can be incredibly powerful in gathering momentum to make change. Nobody has to take a giant leap into it, but small steps are often all that is required. I am suggesting that whoever feels up for it, to post or paste a link to issues or causes that we consider important or dear to us. They obviously don't have to be Queercentric, but whatever you post should have some information and a link to the organisation etc. It could be about anything. It will be a learning experience for all of us.

So, since I was going on about Queer Youth and Religion, here are a few links for the Lesbian, Gay, Bi, Transgendered Youth Lines in Canada and the U.S. When I first came out at the age of 14-15, I used this community line, and found that it helped remind me that there were others out there who were going through the same things. Though I eventually pulled away from the group, and have certain reservations about some of them, I still offer them here as a resource for others. you just never know who it might help.

In Canada, there are a number of Resources for Lesbian, Gay, Bi, Transgendered Kids. Click on the image link above to guide you there!

Youthco - a non-profit organisation working to involve youth between ages 15-29 from all communities in addressing AIDS/HIV, Hep C and other related issues, based out of British Columbia (thanks to Snooze for this one!)

In the U.S, this link seems to be the most popular, so click on the image link above to guide you there!

If you are interested in volunteering for the LGBT Youth Line, click this image link above.

I am not familiar with all the groups listed here as I took this from another online resource, but many of these links and AIDS/HIV organisations are quite dear to me and I have put some time into volunteering or supporting them. Feel free to share or use them as you wish.

Additional Info Resources

www.mcctoronto.com/ - Metrolopitan Toronto Community Church. For those who find faith and religion a central part in their lives, go to this site. I have been to the Church before and it is quite something. Very welcoming to all.

www.gaycanada.com - Provides a database of services and community groups across Canada. You can also search the database using this form.

www.qrd.org/QRD – Queer Resource Directory

www.rainbowquery.com – Search!

www.spiderbytes.ca - Planned Parenthood of Toronto’s (PPT) site for teens.

www.colage.org/groups.html - COLAGE: Children of Lesbians and Gays Everywhere. Has links to international chapters.

www.isna.org – “The Intersex Society of North America (ISNA) is devoted to systemic change to end shame, secrecy, and unwanted genital surgeries for people born with an anatomy that someone decided is not standard for male or female.”

www.bodieslikeours.org - Bodies Like Ours: Peer Support and Information for people born with a body that is different.

www.androphile.org - The Androphile Project: Documenting the world history of Male Love

www-lib.usc.edu/~retter/main.html - The Lesbian History Research Site

www.gayteens.org - Global Resource for LGBT Youth

www.genderbend.com - Gender-Bending Web Zine

www.outproud.org - Out Proud: The National Coalition for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual & Transgender Youth.

AIDS Resources

www.actoronto.org - ACT: The AIDS Committee of Toronto.

www.positiveyouth.com – POY: Positive Youth Outreach is for youth aged 13 and 29 years old who are HIV-positive or have AIDS. This is a program of Toronto AIDS Committee (ACT).

www.canfar.ca – Canadian Foundation For AIDS Research - the National charitable foundation created to raise awareness in order to generate funds for research into all aspects of HIV infection and AIDS.

www.acas.org – ACAS: Asian Community AIDS Services is a “charitable, non-profit, community-based organization that provides HIV/AIDS education, prevention and support to the East and Southeast Asian Canadian communities.”

http://www.catie.ca/ – The Canadian AIDS Treatment Information Exchange (CATIE)- an independent, non-profit community based organization. It offers services across Canada through the HIV/AIDS Treatment Information Network, a project that includes a free 1-800 number phone service and Internet service. CATIE relies on the communities of people living with HIV and AIDS for their insight and direction in shaping the services.

www.cdnaids.ca – CAS: Canadian AIDS Society. Has info in English and French.

www.thebody.com – An AIDS and HIV Information Resource.

www.pwatoronto.org - PWA: Toronto People With AIDS Foundation “exists to promote the health and well-being of all people living with HIV/AIDS by providing accessible, direct, and practical support services.”

www.aidslondon.com – The AIDS Committee of London.

www.phan.ca - PHAN: Peel HIV/AIDS Network.

www.hasslefreeclinic.org - “Hassle Free Clinic provides free medical and counselling services in many areas of sexual health. We are located in downtown Toronto.” Provides anonymous HIV testing!

www.ontarioaidsnetwork.on.ca - OAN: The Ontario AIDS Network is a province-wide coalition of diverse community-based organizations.

www.high5youth.ca - High 5 Youth Canada Network: A site designed by and for HIV + youth, featuring information on being newly diagnosed, treatment info, help finding a Doctor, and other useful info about positive living.

This Should Be Illegal

I just read Normlr's post This Should Be Illegal and believe everyone should go take a look at the hate that this organisation is inciting and the type of mis-inforamtion they are disseminating in the name of Christianity and God. They are also known as exodus and essentially believe that gays/lesbians are immoral, misguided people who require the love of god to reform them. They fail to mention that this organisation uses methods akin to brainwashing and deprivation to get into the heads of their "clientelle". I am somewhat familiar with them as I have met them here in Toronto when I came out at 15. It's sickening.

I took a gander at the site and decided to go to their contact area and sent them a messag. No needto leave personal information. I just wrote the message and sent it off. It really ticks me off when I see people twist and manipulate history and text to suit their vision and propogate hate and fear.

Enough said about them. I might end up smashing my screen with my gay pink rage, and my not-so limp wrist/fist.
------------------------------------------------------------
This is what I wrote to them:
"I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, men other-centered can build up. I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive goodwill will proclaim the rule of the land.

"And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid."

I still believe that we shall overcome. This faith can give us courage to face the uncertainties of the future. It will give our tired feet new strength as we continue our forward stride toward the city of freedom. When our days become dreary with low-hovering clouds and our nights become darker than a thousand midnights, we will know that we are living in the creative turmoil of a genuine civilization struggling to be born."

This was a famous speech by Nobel Prize winner and martyr, Martin Luther King. His vision of the world was that we would have unconditional love for one another. I am deeply perturbed by your referencial use of God and the Holy scriptures to promote the mis-guided hate and misinformation about gays/lesbians. You state that your ministry follows 3 foundational Truths, but in reality, they are assumptions and suppositions. The only judge can be God, not you or anyone in your ministry. Additionally, for those who are not Christian, your theories and foundational truths are not applicable. How do you approach this? Will you, like so many other Catholic and Christian missionaries take on the historical aproach of invade and conquer and convert? I am sure you believe what you do, for reasons of your own (fear, hatred, sadness, weakness of faith or heart), but I pray for your souls as well. Either one of us could be wrong, but the fact remains that if God does truly exist it is God who shall do the judging upon the final day, not you. Do not be so arrogant to think that your work in the eyes of God, are what God wants. I am open to discussion and empirical information about your mission, but will continue at this point to spread the word that what your organisation does, is hurtful and destructive to the human spirit and to God's will.

Toronto Blog Meet was great!

We met, drank and talked as though we had known each other for ages. The actual fact is that we do know so much about each other. We have shared lots of stories, advice and anectodes, but had never met until last night. As I walked up to the pub, I knew who they were even before anything had been said. It was obvious to me. Maybe a weird connection.

Thanks to all for a great evening! Rib Breaker and I had an awesome time and I hope to do it again without the wifey next time (wink wink).

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oops, I should add an addendum here to my 'wifey' comment, and just clear the confusion. When I said 'without the wifey' I meant my wifey Rib Breaker, not St. Dickeybird' wifey, who is also Nursie, whom I have not met, but if I did meet Nursie wifey, who is St. Dickeybirds wifey I am sure I would love her. That should settle it.

Toronto Blog Meet & Greet Pics

Blog Group - For those wondering, they do not have blackened faces. I have covered them as they have requested it so. However, just let me know and I would be happy to forward the pictures privately to your email.

Awww....Couple of Lovelies

Dickeybird & Mainja - Could you ask for anything more cute? Oh and nice tats...wanted to ask to see, but will wait till we know each other a bit more. :)

Ummm, whats with the hand NOAU?

Photo Album updated.

So I finally was able to post my China Pictures from 2004...I know it's late, but feel free to have a look through that and the other albums, just to your right, titled "Photos".

Fashion Cares - But does anyone else?

The deep rhythm and beat of a drum, and the sharp echo of a satyr filled the rooms with music. Accompanying the Bhangra beats were flashes of bright coloured saris and silks piercing the gala night at Fashion Cares (Saturday June 04, 2005). The theme this year was Bollywood Cowboy, a sort of West meets East (South east) idea that sent people scurrying through Gerrard Little India for fabrics and ideas. Cowboy hats, kerchiefs and silks also mixed into the dress code and decor. An interesting mix.

The dining room, boutiques and staged areas were setup to the Nines. Beautiful people with their fresh spray-on tans, manicures and pedicures filled the rooms. People were social, merry and having an all out great time. The highlights of the after-dinner show were Pamela Anderson as the Viva Glam (MAC) representative, addressing the crowds, and Jann Arden singing as well as a surprise appearance by Erasure.

Over the years, Fashion Cares has become a monster of an event in comparison to the early days when it was truly a collaboration and tribute to those in fashion art and those affected by HIV and AIDS. When Fashion Cares started 19 years ago, it was still the 80's when people were still sick, and dying. The Fashion Art community was devastated by the AIDS epidemic, which has not shown any reduction in infection over the years. These days, HIV infection has risen among women and children. These statistics are a slap in the face of modernity and change, and remind us that the pan-epidemic cannot be brushed under the carpet. Attention needs to be paid if ever more so vigilant.

This is where my dilemma and sense of dissappointment comes to play with this event. Every year at Fashion Cares the corporate sponsorships get bigger and more lavish, and the crowds gets bigger and more glamourous. I have been volunteering for this event for the last 5 years and each year I wonder how many of these people would truly be here to sponsor or donate if the event itself was not so glamourous. AIDS and HIV my dear readers, are NOT glamorous. It is a disease that has ravaged the world, but with new medical breakthroughs and cocktails patients can live normal lives, never succumbing to the deathly, cadaverous-like symptoms like wasting syndrome, pneumonia, or Kaposi sarcoma. The face of AIDS is changing and the fact that we do not see sick people dying from AIDS does not mean it has gone away.

I can admit it, Beauty sells, and I understand that sores and rotting flesh will not mix well with a $375.00 ticketed chicken dinner, but makeup and hair and clothes can only do so much to mask this disease. I volunteer because HIV and AIDS has affected my life and those of my friends in ways that only we can know. It has ripped into our hearts and our souls and stolen from us something very precious. When I see people at these events I want to ask them why they are here, or who in their lives have been affected by this, not as an accusatory question, but to remind them that there is a 'cause' here. I am not saying that those who have no ties to the cause should not be there, but some honour or tribute should be given to the people who have died and to those who helped support and care for them. I had hoped that there would have been a moment of silence, but like every year the quest for glamour and beauty doesn't have a place for the morbid minute of silence.

Don't get me wrong, Fashion Cares is a beautiful event, and it puts AIDS and the cause on the map. I am thankful for that. I will still continue to volunteer and support the cause in any way I can. I myself had a few drinks, mingled with different people, but I am also accutely aware of the corporate reach it has, but sadly I am unsure about its emotional and personal reach.

Rib Breaker Moments - getting back to (ab)normality

As some of you know, RB and I have been working things out. I had an all-out open discussion with him a week and a half ago, telling him what I was willing to put into the relationship and what I expected from him in return and vice versa. It wasn't much, other than that he be open and communicate with me. It obviously hit home with him and he has done a 360 turnaround...well, more like 280, but I am good with that.

Anyhow, things are settling back into our normal idiotic routines. Some examples:

1. Last Sunday, after moving RB's mattress up 4 flights of stairs to his place I asked for a drink. He pours me a juice and I thirstily begin to drink it. He then looks at the carton and starts to laugh and asks that I don't kill him. After a quick wrestle (where I won, as usual), I find myself looking at a carton that expired on Jan 05. The bastard.
2. This past Tuesday, RB invited me over to his ex's place for a wine tasting. It was cool and a lot of fun, but I was reamed out for apparently making RB fatter than he was with the Ex. I reminded the Ex that RB had disappeared for sometime from my life and any fattening incurred would have been on RB's part. I also pointed out that he could easily stop shovelling the food down his trap. It's not my fault that I cook well.
   
3. In a related topic, yesterday as we joked around and chatted, I told RB not to leave any visible marks on me on account of it being Pride month (it's all very vain isn't it?). His response was that it was his way of ensuring I wouldn't get fucked by anyone else. I retorted by asking "Then, how am I supposed to keep you from fucking anyone else?" His quick response was "You already have! you've made me fat!". I lost my drink and it almost spewed across the room.
   

Open Forums & Open Discussions.

It appears that my last blog post generated a very interesting discussion that I just could not leave alone. Let me first preface this discussion with the reminder that we are all entitled to our opinions, but that we cannot be so arrogant as to believe that our opinion is right or always accepted by everyone else. That is logic. That is fair, and it is the way we learn. Those who hold their opinions as the only option available are a difficult challenge for me and are often ones that I can get easily frustrated at, but I always love a challenge (personally speaking of course). I have posted about past racial experiences (here & here) and believe that the forum that I and many of my fellow bloggers supply is a friendly atmosphere to exchange views and opinions on the World and world experiences.

Anyhow, this topic spilled into a gathering last night I had with some friends during a wine tasting. The people present included the son of the father who had passed, who I told the experience to. He tells me that the lady across the street has been a bit of a pain in the ass, as she walked into the home during an Open House tis week and demanded that they remove the car, lest she call the police. She apparently knows that the father died, but has had little empathy that the family has to empty the house of belongings and deal emotionally with the loss of the father and the home. It seems she just isn't a nice person at all and speaks to many people in the same fashion. She obviously learned little from our interaction.

Anyhow, we had a fantastic discussion last night about religion and about what our idea of multiculturalism and tolerance was. Like I said in a previous post,

In our current age, the idea of multi-culturalism is almost a day-to-day word that apparently defines our society as "including people who have many different customs and beliefs". Note, that this does not mean acceptance, nor does it mean tolerance. That kind of understanding and knowledge are things we actively learn or seek, based on our need to understand the world around us. An individual who is willing to learn and who does not form an opinion about things, is likely to learn from their experiences. They are the types of people who will re-evaluate and think about their opinions and the nature in which they structure their beliefs....I am of the belief that education does not equal intelligence, and intelligence doesn't necessarily foster tolerance or acceptance. Additionally, the idea of multiculturalism does not equal tolerance.

None of comes to any opinion without some prejudice or stereotype. Its the same impossibility of not knowing everything in the Universe. Even a connosieur or sommelier of wine will not have all the knowledge in the world regarding the art of vino. It is simply arrogant to believe that. And like wine, we all have our own tastes and our own views of what is good on the palate. For some people, discussions about religion, faith, nationality, ethnicity or politics is a road they would rather not cross. I thoroughly enjoy it and I love the opportunity of learning what others have to say about my views or their own.

Its an open discussion, so grab your wine glasses for a toast to good conversation and drink up.

Goys in your hood.

As mentioned this past Sunday I was helping RB move a mattress. It belonged to a friend of his, whose father had passed and it was the spare guest mattress (not his fathers). They were getting rid of the contents and offered it to RB, so we headed over to the family home just West of Bathurst near St. Clair, otherwise known as beautiful Forest Hill. The area around Bathurst is predominantly a Jewish area, as the Jewish Synagogues and schools and shops are all close by. It's a tight knit community, which I am not unfamiliar with as I lived at Bathurst and Steeles for 10 years when I was younger and loved the area and the people. However, that Sunday morning I got the sneaking suspicion that I was not welcome. Maybe I am being a little too sensitive or maybe it was my imagination, but I have a bit of experience when it comes to racism and stereotypes (on the receiving end) and what it feels like to be in a minority group (several minority groups at that).

When we arrived at the home, we sat and waited for the mover to come. We were not dressed in suits or dress shirts, but we were also not in rags. As we sat there, neighbours walked by the home and stood looking at us as they walked their dogs or played with their kids. Both RB and I looked at each other each time wondering if theer was food on our faces or if we looked odd. Four separate times, neighbours came and asked us if we worked there or were we purchasing the home. In one occassion the lady across the street drove into her driveway and came over to me to complain about the car parked in front of her home. The dialogue went as follows:

Her (gesticulating and beckoning me to come across the street - which I did not) As she gets within ear shot she begins speaking very slowly: Do you speak English?
Me (bewildered): Ummm, Yes.
Her (haughtily): Oh...Well, would you please tell your boss that we do not appreciate the car parked out front of our home, when they have a perfectly good driveway to park in? My kids can't park their carsthere when the car is there.
Me: My boss?
Her: Yes. Yoooouuur Boss...you know the owner of the home?
Me (getting red in the face): Listen lady, I am not some Filipina maid or gardener if that is what you are getting at. This is not my home, nor is the dead owner my boss. I am sorry that the car is parked in front of your home, but from what I can see, the sign says Parking with no time limits. Oh, what are you surprised that I can read as well?
Her: Oh, well I just thought, that, well, you know...
Me: Actually, sadly I do know what you thought and it was wrong, incredibly rude and uninsightful of you.
Her (taken aback): Excuse me?
Me: Actually, I don't think I will. You haven't quite apologised as yet, so why should I give you the comfort that our exchange was okay?
Her: Well, it's not like I would know who you were!
Me: That's fine, but why assume I was an employee?
Her(turning red): Well honestly I don't know. Your obviously not from around here, so....(stopping, and getting redder)
Me (angrily): Not from around here? or not belonging around here? Honey, let me give you a little lessen on stereotypes and racism, something that you should only be all too familiar with. Just because I am some Goy who doesn't fit into your little secular world does not mean that I don't belong or am not welcome. Your pissing me off now and I have to help my friend, but it would be nice to get an apology from you.
Her (redder in the face): An apology? For what? It's not like I intended it.
Me (laughing incredulously): One doesn't need to have intention to hurt someone, but one needs to realise the law of unintended consequences. Besides, if I have to explain any further then I must be the idiot here, because I thought you would have had a little more intelligence than that...(Turned and left, not looking back).

RB was a bit taken aback by the whole thing and said that she just stood there with her LV purse dangling on her arm, wondering what to say, until she just turned around and went home. He says she looked at him and kinda said sorry but he wasn't sure.

Was I wrong here? I don't think I was.

Busy busy busy

The last few weeks have been super busy, both work-wise and extra-curricular. The May 2-4 weekend consisted of helping my friend RN move to his new apartment on the Westend and also helping my other friend AK clean and decorate his balcony with plants and furniture. Didn't leave much time for sleeping in, but I had a good time doing both of them.

This past weekend, I went to my friend S&S's house to build a waterfall for their pond. Once the heavy lifting and digging were done, the job took only 3 hours to complete. I think it looks pretty good and they were happy. Sunday I moved RB's new mattress up 4 flights of stairs and then went to my brothers to sand his deck. Want to finish that by the end of the week and have it all stained/sealed.

On top of all this, my dog got sick on the May 2-4 and literally had a leaky ass. My poor girl went all over the Solarium carpet and I had to clean the nasty mess up. These things happen with older dogs and you can't get angry because it ain't their fault.

So, I'm just a wee bit tired now, after all the sanding, digging, moving and ass wiping. I think I am either staying in the city to volunteer for Fashion Cares again this year, or will be heading up to T&Y's cottage to open it and relax. Will post pics of all the chores and the cottage soon.