BUT. More illness ensued. I am now happy to report that I am on the mend after a whole weekend of the Valentine's barfing, so CLEARLY now that I can type again I immediately must indulge good ol' fashioned CP-style blog rant. Can we PUHLAYSE talk about why the hell girls keep trying to get their straight boyfriends to get all super stoked on giving them cookies and flowers and teddy bears and shit? What the fuck is wrong with these bitches? I mean maybe it's the partial dyke in me, but for real. That shit is G-I-R-L-I-E shit. (ok, ok, F-E-M-M-E-Y shit for the transgressive gender-role types... ps, I should probably warn you I'm not gonna be the most PC bitch ever in this blog, but I swear you'll get what I mean.. I don't mean to exclude you, I swear. I'm good like that. Also: rent Clueless, it's awesome). But for real. Bears? Fuzzy stuff? Chocolate? Heart-shaped cookies? Pretty flowers that smell pretty? LADIES: I'm all in. No one loves that shit more than me. I have a whole studio covered in glitter, for crying out loud. Now let's get our cute little pink underoo'd asses over to my house and all eat pink sugar cookies together and squeeze our teddy bears while giggling and listening to Gaga (omg, GAGA). No, but really. Let's femme that shit up all the way and celebrate our giddy girliness with a big ol' traditional choco-binge while giving each other those cute strawberry shortcake Valentine's cards and watching 80's rom-coms starring John Cusack, then wrestle and talk about where we got our lingerie, because it's fun. And because honestly? STRAIGHT BOYS (and a lot of butchy dykes) DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT.
Well, maybe the wrestling in our underwear part. But the other stuff? Not the straight dudes I know. Even the die-hard romantic straight dudes. Sure, they're stoked that you're all excited and gushy when you get that teddy bear and they love to see you smile. But most of them aren't gonna get STOKED on picking that shit out. And they are probably NOT going to bake you cookies with little pink sparkles on them either. And despite the hurt feelings of some of my lady-friends who complain that their manly counterparts aren't being attentive enough when Valentine's day rolls around if they don't get a heart-shaped box on their doorstep, I HONESTLY don't really think it's an affront to the relationship. I just think that sometimes, dudes don't "get" the pleasure that comes from eating a heart-shaped chocolates out of a heart=shaped box, even though they taste the same as the chocolates NOT shaped like hearts and are just more expensive, as previously discussed. Because really, when you think about it, it's sort of irrational. It just happens to be that sort of irrational that makes perfect sense to us.
This is one of the reasons why being truly bisexual is both a gift and the weirdest thing ever. Trust me, the list of reasons goes on and on. Because while I do honestly and genuinely see the girlie appeal of a Valentine's femme-fest, I kind of want to barf my guts out a little whenever I think about slow-dancing or single red roses. And it's not because that shit is cheesy...because trust me, I LIVE for cheese and have many Tea Party albums (please still be my friend). Nope, it's something else... the same sort of macho thing that makes me wince whenever I hear "soft rock" and get excited whenever I see a really nice sound system.. thanks A LOT, Vancouver audiophiles, you have spoiled me forever. But I know that other girls get what I'm talking about, sexual orientation / femme-yness aside... it's like, a mushy/macho factor... wow, I'm really going out on a limb with the label/gender role thing today. And slashes, apparently. But how else would I describe it? It's like a gag-reflex. The one I no longer have after this weekend.
But for real: Femmes of the world who may feel slighted by the glaring absence of your heart-shaped chocolates? Pretty sure that your boyfriend / butchy / transgender / whoever person loves you A LOT and wants to hump your brains out on Valentine's Day, or any day, really. His reluctance / neglect to participate in ultra-girlie consumerism gifting is not necessarily an affront to you, more just sort of like that weird wince-y feeling you get whenever you hear that Celine Dion song from Titanic (EWWWWW. PS: I was SO expecting that bitch to turn up at the Olympics, nice work on avoiding that crap-pile, VANOC, I fully give you props for that). And unlike my sadistic sister Chelsey, I don't feel that a lack of cheesy Valentine's gifts is hard-evidence that the guy isn't into me or isn't sucking it up enough to prove that he's in for the long-haul. We can do other shit. I just have it figured out that I like to get my grrlie fixes from my grrlz... it's just plain easier that way. I like doing other shit with my manly man. And you KNOW what I'm talking about.
And so. I feel that Valentine's Day should basically be re-named to "Do Fun Girlie Valentine's Day Consumerism Shiz with your Fun Girlie Friends and then go Hump your Non-Girlie Partners After That" Day. Then everybody wins!!! Don't you think the world would be like, wayyy happier and easier?
Yay. Also: be very wary of small children who seem crabby and ill early in the week. Do not disregard their germs because they have tiny faces... THEY WILL STILL INFECT YOU.
And on that note, now that I'm keeping solid food down, I DO believe it is time to go buy heart-shaped chocolate... ON SALE. In the "Seasonal" aisle. My FAVORITE. Mmmmmmmmm.
Oh yeah, I promised I'd post those pix from my last Shimona Henry shoot, because some of the bloggy peeps aren't on the FB. You should see the other ones she did for my new site. SHWING.
mmmummmmcccunchcmmmumm.
xoxo
CP
