Strangely Socialised

Or, Why I Wasn’t Keen On This Week’s Top Chef

My problem wasn’t that they used a wedding theme, because a) historically they’ve done it before, including a gay wedding, and b) they are in Vegas. I don’t think it was inappropriate or disrespectful to the chefs, though I certainly see Ashley’s point. (Being Canadian, the issue is not the same here, but it wasn’t always that way.) It bears mentioning that I thought she was very articulate and well-reasoned in her objections, and after making them then went and did the best possible job for the happy couple that she could without ever for a moment being disrespectful to them.

And my problem wasn’t that they had a boys vs. girls challenge, even though I don’t particularly like them and in a male-dominated profession they seem particularly out of place, even when the numbers on the actual show allow for it. Jen’s argument, while brief and pointed, was well said. But on a show like Top Chef, where they use any number of ways to divide the chefs into teams, it wasn’t unexpected.

My problem was that they used a boys vs. girls challenge in juxtaposition with a marriage challenge. As a viewer, I think they would have to have tried very hard to make a more pointed statement that marriage is between a man and a woman. I don’t think that was their intention. I think that someone had – as Tom Colicchio points out in his blog post about this episode – the cute idea that men entertain at the women’s party and women entertain at the men’s party and no one ever stopped to actually think about how sexist that in itself is, or how these choices kept underlining the point that only (heterosexual) men are on one side and only (heterosexual) women are on the other, and that’s the way it is.

As a queer viewer, while I enjoyed the rest of the elements of the show – I’m in this for the cooking after all, and there was plenty of good food to be virtually had – I was taken aback at how ill-thought-out and, frankly, classless, this whole challenge was.

The problem with multiple identities on the internet is that sometimes one gets a lot more attention than the others, and sometimes it’s a lot more fun to be somebody else than myself. >.> And that’s enough of that.

Ruth has been here since the 16th, for three weeks this time, and we’re definitely counting down the months now till she’s finally finished her education and we get more than these little bursts of time together. But seriously, who gets their PhD and then decides they need another year of education? The woman is mad, I tell you.

Also, I got into bed with her early last night and made her scream. Not in the good way. FML.

(Apparently right this second she’s watching Alex SkarsgÃ¥rd showering. On her netbook, just to be clear.)

T-minus 7 working days till I’m unemployed, and Toronto Pride was last weekend. These two things are completely unrelated, but they’re probably the most noteworthy events in my life right now. I mean, other than Ruth’s visit, obvs. I feel like right now I’m where I should’ve been when I finished university: unsure of what I actually want to do with the rest of my life; a little scared of being adrift but relieved, too, to be out of a job that was probably devouring my soul. It paid well, though, so there was that.

Okay, yeah, that part was pretty awesome.

Also, if anyone was looking for a sign of the end times, my mother (and her sisters) are blogging. I’m not sure I ever believed this day would come, even though we managed to get her on Facebook, even if the only people she’s friended are me, my brother, my girlfriend and my uncle. Hell, I think she uses it more than I do these days.

July 1, 2009 = the five-year anniversary of the day I packed everything I owned into a moving truck and drove across the country for two days between Winnipeg and Toronto. With about $4000 in the bank and no job and just hoping for the best. Despite my now-looming layoff, I still think it all worked out pretty well.

ETA: I stand corrected. My mother has 16 Facebook friends.

Things what I learned this weekend:

• Walking for two hours in a snowstorm is beautiful, but leaves you with sore thighs.
• People who aren’t living in an apartment with minimal heat are not motivated to fix it.
• Cookie dough dries out in the fridge. Lesson learned: eat it more quickly.
• Toronto is beautiful.
• Trust your family, even when you have doubts. They can surprise you sometimes, and it’s wonderful.
• People drink more coffee when it’s cold. Arrive early if you want a seat.
• I have not gone running in far too long. I have no one but myself to blame for this.
• I need a new messenger bag, one that is not held together by willpower and safety pins. The three bleeding points on my left hand attest to this.
• I need to read the books I own before buying more.

Pride today. It was big and loud and wonderful, and I came home drunk and sunburned. Couldn’t have asked for a better day. Met up with RM at noon, as planned (woo for people who are on time!), and wandered around. So many people I know from years ago are still in the city, which surprises me because so many of the people I knew well are gone. Finally met up with RM’s friends about two minutes before the parade started. After the parade, we hopped in the back of one of the guys’ pick-up truck — we’re so refined — and hauled ass to the liquor store, then to Fort Rouge Park to drink and picnic for a couple hours. They had tickets for the cabaret tonight and I was going to call and see if any were still available, but I came home for a nap and slept for four hours (that’s what I get for staying up until dawn). Which is probably for the best because ow. Sunburn.

Still struggling with what, in my life, will make me happy. I’m certainly not where I’m at right now, but I’m content and it’s easy and that’s a really hard thing to leave. On good day, I wonder why I want to; on bad days, I wonder why I haven’t already. The thing is, every time I think of something I might want to do, I start worrying — what if that’s not good enough either? What if I never find what I’m looking for?

Going to a midnight showing at a Gay and Lesbian Film Festival is different than going to the multiplex to see a movie. I’ll say that right up front, because the audience you’re in changes the way you see a movie. Being one of about six women in a sold-out theatre of mostly gay men seeing a movie about the world of gay pornography, it definitely changes things.

So I suspect part of the reason I liked that movie was because of the great vibe of the audience.

And I did like it, at least most of it. It was clever and funny and even touching at times. It didn’t shrink away from the ugly things, but it balanced them with goodish things as well. It was blatantly sexual, yes, but that’s not really a minus for me.

The performances, well, I wasn’t expecting much so I wasn’t disappointed. But they weren’t outright bad, which is something. I had fun watching the movie and that’s the important thing.

But the ending … the ending was a great ending, for a different movie. I don’t know where the hell it came from, and though it tied up a couple of threads that were introduced earlier on in the movie, it just didn’t fit at all. It had a different look, a different tone, a different everything than the rest of the film. I’m still not entirely sure what to make of it.

And I have a huge crush on Guinevere Turner. That helped.