today, my girlfriend and I went on a day trip to the unitedstatesofamerica. i like to say it all one word like that. ’cause it’s, you know, more united that way. We only went to one part of one state. well. two parts of one state. One outlet mall, and one touristy-kind of village-ish suburb. it was a beautiful day and all.
we talked about how to maintain friendships when lives and attitudes and convictions change, but love remains.
We talked about how to interfere with the pornography and prostitution industry. –from many directions with many tactics–and the main energy has to be on interfering with men’s demand–“Buddy! ya got two good hands! Get ’em off of me/her/us!”
We talked about how people seem to think that if they try to raise their kids to be anti-sexist and respectful and anti-racist and generous and all that, that the world will change. –it won’t. we first have to change the world, then raise kids into that–don’t leave it all for them to do. They won’t, and if they do, they’ll be mad that they have to clean up all our rubbish–(see post # 1 or 2 — “c’mon, be dangerous”).
We talked about lunch, then we had it. We talked about books, then we bought some. We talked about dogs. We talked about women, and how glad we are that we are THAT.
We talked about how strange it is that women’s hockey is FULL of lesbians, and the only women we see representing the canadian women’s olympic hockey team are heterosexual and what’s up with THAT? (except the coach. She’s surely a big ol’ dyke–I saw her on TV and I went, “Yea! Right ON!” I was in the gym at the community centre at the time. that was a little embarassing).
We also sat in silence for a time.
what a happy day. I wore my jeans, when what i really wanted to wear were my new sweatpants, with the picture of a beaver on em. But J didn’t want to go to the unitedstatesofamerica with me in sweatpants, she thought it looked too much like wearing my pyjamas, (what’s wrong with that?) and she didn’t want to walk around with me–in a foreign country–if i was gonna wear my pyjamas.
anyways. my jeans were way scruffier than my sweatpants.
but oh well.
i have more to say, and also, i really want to write about how i’ve become really much more tolerant and accepting in the gym these days. but it’s bed time where i am, and i’ll leave that for another day.
ps: i’m not really more tolerant, i’m just channeling my homicidal impulses into bench presses. more later.