revisionist history

so yesterday i decided to binge-listen revisionist history. luckily, there are only ten episodes and the duration of each episode is around thirty minutes. (the last time i binge-listened to a podcast was when i was unemployed when i first moved to toronto, and i was a bit squirrely after about 95 hours of radiolab-straight).

the first point to hit me was in the discussion of orthodox generosity, in which gladwell defines generosity as “the ability to be open”, which is not one that i can locate now, nor have ever heard before. i suppose it is the other side of giving, which is traditionally how i have understood generosity-with time, knowledge, love, support and money. i suppose doing all those things because you are open to change in people, circumstances, and the world, or the simple acceptance of the fact that you can be open to the possibility that peoples’ circumstances are not like your own and that’s ok is the other side. being open to receive the change that you are helping to affect?

the other point that i thought a lot about was how folks let one in the door and that becomes the allowance to shut the door firmly on the rest because they’ve done their duty, they’re patting themselves on the back for being progressive. it was almost with an assured tone that he closed that episode-“it makes me think of hillary clinton, and how she won’t have it easy.”

(yes, i listened to them backwards).

the discussion of how white people felt freer to be more racist and horrible to black people than ever because they’d done their (lifetime) civic duty and voted for barack obama, and that makes sense that the rise of institutionalized racism (and its public evidence/backlash) would happen during his tenure, and it also gives some context to “some of my best friends are…” justifications.

that discussion of countries who were one and done with female leaders was very, very fascinating, and just goes to show how much traction we can get out of the black men vs. all women argument, but in the end, we’re all just figureheads in the face of a broken system of patriarchal institutions. remember, canada-ours was appointed, not elected and not for a full term. btw-elizabeth may-as long as you’re riding that tricycle, i am voting for you and your party.

i posted a picture of someone’s sign at the march that read “so i’ll see all you nice white ladies at the next #BLM march, right?” and a white woman (who had the means and opportunity to go to washington) commented that she didn’t see much “divisiveness” there, which i perceive as a pushback because it was a callout for white women to do their due diligence when it’s not “their” march, so i responded about keeping that spirit in mind when homecourt advantage shifts, and we’ll see.

now, i’m not co-signing with this tactic, but i’m not not:

maybe if you hear it from “one of your own”, it will resonate more.

my final curiosity from the wonder-full series is if the theory works in reverse. now that trump has been elected, will white people feel more empathy than they ever have? will they give money to strangers and shit, start standing alongside women and minorities in their workplaces, on the bus, at the bank, on the road, in the pool, in higher education, at the laundromat-even when nobody’s watching to give them an award?

we will see indeed.

super man in the roti shop

“i think you’re used to getting your way”

i love a lot of things about working from home, not the least of which being going to grab a goat dinner because i got a surprise arrival last night that explains my friday night twitter rage against russell westbrook (not that that’s not justified everyday) and why i was ravenous yesterday. sometimes, you just need some red meat protein.

it was a long line, one that i suppose is customary at lunchtime, and i had lots of time to reflect on the day that i’ve already had, and how to maximize the part that remains.

i also got to witness the most important customer service life situation that i have in years.

there was a particularly ruddy man sitting in front of the door, demanding that folks get him napkins while he ate with his mouth open, jabbing at his phone with his disgusting roti fingers (how much you wanna bet that this is one of those non-hand-washing mofos that i caught shit-handed at the airport?). nearing the end of his meal, he started to complain about people who were holding the door ajar because the lineup snaked outside of the restaurant.

then, my hero spoke up. a gentle giant, calm and strong, this man said the following to mister red:

“yes, there’s a lineup. yes-it goes out the door”

“you’re a customer and you’re entitled to your opinion, but we’re customers too, so we can stand in line inside”

“if you don’t like it, i suggest you choose another seat.”

“i don’t think you’re used to people talking back to you. i think you’re used to having your way.”

“you’re being a prick”.

“see what happens? don’t be a prick then.”

he held his own, looked him in the eyes, kept speaking the truth, and never meeting red at his blustery level, or escalating. my favourite was the hard stare directly at him as he made a production of swearing and swirling his jacket arms as he left.

winner winner, roti dinner.

this was so inspiring and simple, not just at work, but in life.

i love him.

this is the calibre of man that can stay in my matriarchy.

the other one-y’all can have him.

(maybe chrisette michele needs him for something for her inauguration set)

bag check

-bean sprouts
-fish sauce
-coconut milk soaked rice crackers
-organic mushrooms
-2017 day planner (that i amended from I AM VERY BUSY. to I AM VERY BUSY flossin’)
-jasmine rice
-four lightbulbs
-schmidt’s lavendar-sage cream deodorant (sample size because they didn’t have routine)
-druide organic cleansing lotion
-soma gingerbread spiced toffee
john feinstein’s next man up (hardcover)
-terminator 2 (vhs-picked up on the side of the road on the esplanade to regift)
-keys (on raptor’s chain and newly minted with 10 swims at the st. lawrence community centre)
-king charles spaniel pouch containing all of my beauty essentials (toothbrush, floss, pad, lipstick, lip balm, kiehl’s hand balm in nordstrom sample tin, coffee candy, tissue, toothpaste and photo of my dad at 18, flossin’)

i am off and making canh chua tonight. i was just charmed that i was carrying okra and lightbulbs, but that’s just how i live.

(pack light).

everything we make…

is love.

happy 2017, everyone.

i am great-full for the recent foray to the wet coast, where things were slow and i didn’t think about work or money for a whole week.

i lived out of a carry-on and slept on an ottoman.

i saw myself in the mirror and saw the inspiration for going the other way.

i now understand what a lane home is.

i ate too much and didn’t exercise at all.

i watched more television than i have in the past three years.

i am glad to be home, where my projects and my clothes are.

i was so delighted to fall asleep on my own couch, and sleep in in my own bed.

i love that the first computer resurrected, and how much prince the itunes is playing.

i love that dufferin street is fixed (for now).

i love that i gave myself the chance to finish projects and enjoy my home.

i am looking forward to going back to work.

just not tomorrow.

“do you do the puzzles?”

in relation to those free puzzles in the dailies, i realize that this is probably a yes or no answer for some people.

i find them, either blank or completed, or one blank and one completed (people usually have a preference between the words or numbers).

to be neighbourly, i try to take them out of the cover issue of the boxes-that way, i’m not robbing someone of the most important page of the paper, and not inundating myself with all the bad news before the day even gets going. i also try to rip them out of the ones that have already been recycled.

because for me, yes, i do the puzzles, but i make sure to read the horoscope, and/or glance at the recipe, which lately, seems to feature waffles for everything, rip out the sudoku for an old coworker (who has no idea that i’ve been clipping them every day since she quit four months ago), and saving the crossword for myself.

sometimes i get them done that day, most of the time, i don’t. i hoard them and do them all at once, and then cut them out and fold them into hearts, press them in my tupac book, and then a week later, i add it to the fishing line full of them that will eventually be some kind of 3D sculpture.

yep, i’m that guy.

“what if we’re all just pigeons, confused by a waffle fry?”

so, mcdonald’s released a new waffle fry for the holidaze, and i can’t deny that i’m curious.

i mean, they’ve been trying new things for quite some time now-the “healthy” menu, the gunning for the tim horton’s coffee crown (and they’ve simultaneously been coming for the mcdonald’s breakfast and burger alternatives), the smaller portion sizes, the “international” and limited edition offerings, the giant iphones that you can order from in store.

usually, this is the marker of a sinking ship in the business world. but mcdonald’s has always been a forerunner, so what if they’re resetting the norm once again? what if, like some of us, instability is the new stability?

i suppose i am loving being erica not only because it is the strongest original canadian programming that i’ve seen since degrassi. not only because it’s shot in toronto and supposed to be toronto, or that it’s under the cbc banner, but i think the real reason is the premise that we go back into time to relive our past so that we can improve who we are in the present.

because even without therapy and/or time travel-this is what life is about. it’s about putting ourselves into each other’s shoes and listening to each other. it’s about paying attention to what’s beyond our own heads. because more often than not, we are struggling concurrently, and we don’t have to do it alone.

i love yoga, but i didn’t go today. i exercised my freedom not to, to get myself a pizza and scrub the bathroom in layers instead. i watched and bawled through many episodes of the show and knit more scarf and did puzzles. i got coffee in the afternoon because i was too late to go in the morning. i added more languages, and another person on the upper side of my duolingo profile. i went for a walk and mailed a letter to my (local) babymama. i listened to and remembered how much i love the fuck out of lupe’s the cool album. i bow down to chicago music makers.

somewhere in all of this, i realized that last night was a do-over in perspective. it showed me that even though i am in the position of influence that the person who threatened me is in her imaginary world, i chose not to deal with someone being rude to me in the way that person did. i’ve been hurt and salty at the injustice of that for the past 18 hours, but now i see (again) that the choice is mine, and i’ll be damned if i just roll over and give it away.

from the streetcar at dundas west station, before we pulled away, i watched a group of about seven pigeons just confused as fuck about the new waffle fry. it was too big for them to eat, and they all just kept flipping it over their heads, it was kind of pitiful to watch them be tripped up by the fried potato product.

but all the frenzied tossing led to the waffle fry being broken up into smaller pieces, and i actually laughed out loud when a smaller bird (a blackbird?) just swooped in and flew away with one of those smaller pieces in its beak as the pigeons remained slipping and tossing the bigger pieces over their heads.

i’d like to thing we’re more than just those pigeons, but sometimes, i’m not sure. sometimes i think we are just those pigeons.

but sometimes we’re not.

sometimes, we are the blackbird, too.

“who sends two fake dick pics?”

i’ll admit it-i’m not having the greatest time adjusting to the new moon in sagittarius-shit’s been bananas. but this was a welcome distraction and a question that i never thought i would ask, and i always love those.

shoutout to my sistar and bonus fam, it was a lovely weekend and nice to be with folks who look like me and think like me and just fucking get me and love me in general. to pax and harbourfront walks, 90s dance parties on fake beaches, wings and coke in the lobby and giggling until we fall asleep-i truly love y’all.

and to my homegirl for sharing her true life that i’m committed to writing into fiction one day.

i’m still thinking about this game plan-i mean, how do you expect to get out of this one, bro? two fake dick pics? one is just the profile, but it’s clearly a circumcised dick, everything shaved, and it appears to be of a person with a different skin colour than the ones of your face. the next one matches your complexion, but is no way a believable representation of your body, and the dick is uncut and springing out from a full pubic bush that looks like a throwback to the ’70s.

the whole thing puzzles me-first of all, are you browsing and saving stock dick pics? how much research is involved here? and are you this delusional, or targeting people who you believe are so delusional that they won’t ask a question or just let this slide? or are you just that person who wants to just keep up an imaginary thing over the internet?

well, in this case-it’s not the latter. because he did show up in person, in an obnoxious car with an even more obnoxious spoiler, and because i wanted to make sure that my girl didn’t get took, or at least be able to id this fool, i sat in the back seat, silently laughing about two fake dick picks.

“i do bouncer” is the next revealing fact about this man who only works part-time at sugar daddy’s so that he can become a cop because he “likes to arrest people”. his true desire is to be in the army because he “likes action-in the field and in the bed”.


well, at least this dood showed me that not only white women can act crazy and get away with it.
but don’t worry-they’re still the best at it.

bad new moon in sag, very very bad.