i love valentine's day. no - let me be precise: i love holidays. i love solstice/xmas/whatever, i love easter, i love halloween, i love st.patrick's day... i love 'em all!!
ok, i know some of you may want to argue:
that valentine's isn't a "holiday".
that valentine's is a corporate cash-grab, a joke played on stupid unsuspecting consumers by greedy hallmarkers.
that couples should love each other every day of the year.
first, let me respond to the last one: duh. no fucking kidding. so if that's the way you think, why celebrate your birthday while you're at it? i mean, shouldn't you be happy to be alive every day of the year? retarded, eh. well, that's how i feel about people who refuse to celebrate valentine's. ok, maybe you're single, or freshly dumped, or just in general cynical about love. in those cases, i sympathize, i mean look at my checkered love history - believe me, i can relate.
but for couples, refusing to celebrate valentine's is just stupid or lazy or both. i mean, what is so wrong with taking one evening to do nothing but celebrate your love? is it really so evil??? frankly, i think it's beautiful. and no, it doesn't mean you can't celebrate it any other time. it doesn't mean the dues have been paid for the year, and you can go along taking each other for granted and treating each other like shit. it just means you've taken this one night to do nothing but be in love.
well shit man, sign me up!
as for those of you who rage against the corporatization (is that a word? should be) of the holiday, ok - you're right. but just because the capitalists are cramming diamonds and chocolates and red roses down your throat, doesn't mean you have to buy it. literally and figuratively... don't want to support the hallmark-created holiday? make your own card. don't wanna be a cliche and buy roses? don't! it's only a corporate scam if you let it be. same with xmas or easter or mother's day or any of the holidays. (i'm reminded of that simpson's episode with that fake holiday, what was it? that was funny...)
i say this so often, i should probably have it tattooed on my ass: our culture is desperately lacking ritual. for that reason, i find myself looking for any opportunity to create ritual. and i find opportunities in holidays. these occasions ask us to take a step back and celebrate something. ponder it. appreciate it. these things are not only wonderful, they're really important.
ok sure, you don't have to do it on some day that some religious zealot picked hundreds of years ago, but why not? are you so rebellious that you have to fight every convention, whether or not there's a rational reason for it? i mean hey sure, whatever floats your boat. but most of the people who don't celebrate valentine's aren't picking alternative dates to commemorate the great gift of love. they probably don't like celebrating anniversaries either, and i think they're just being lazy.
so anyway, i've been savouring the love vibe, and so i proudly wore my red blazer yesterday, shouting out to the world: i love love!!! and you know what? i had the bestest valentine's ever!!! sure, we bought into some of the hooha: he bought me lingerie, and i spent all my allowance on ridiculously overpriced (but also ridiculously beautiful and ridiculously yummy) Godiva chocolates. and we went full-cheese with candles and wine and fancy dinner, ooh la la. but most importantly, we shared a beautiful night doing nothing but being together and being in love.
it was... well.. a lovely night. and i'll celebrate that any day!
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
the "real kaen", part 2
in addition to my birthday, i've also tried changing my last name. although not "officially" or "legally" (yet?), i have come up with a far superior last name.
"but kaen, we love you the way you are!!"
yeah yeah yeah. but is it really me? gather 'round kiddies, let me tell you a strange and interesting story.
when i was still a fairly young thing, the government of Canada changed a pretty significant law. previously, when a First Nations (or what the government still likes to call "Indian") woman married a non-"Indian" man, she lost her "Indian" status. became white, i guess? which whatever eh - you are who you are, no matter what the government calls you.. sure. except we're talking about losing out on the "freebies" (as the idiots call them) - the repayments our government offers First Nations people in exchange for having robbed so much of their land, lives, history, culture and dignity. so when the law changed and those women could "regain" their status, it was kind of a big deal.
well my gramma (from the Ojibwe nation) married a whitey. when my dad discovered she was now, again, First Nations, he decided to look into what that meant for him and his children. he had no idea what he was getting into...
some things were not a surprise: his real father had died before he was born. (or so the story goes. fact is, my gramma never talked about him which breaks my heart in many ways.) some things were a bit shocking: his step-father had never legally adopted him. so when he ordered his birth certificate, he discovered that the step-father's last name, which donned all his ID, was not his real last name. his legal last name was actually his mother's maiden name. my dad actually had to legally change his name so that it matched all his ID and information.
so technically, my last name shouldn't have even been what it is. for that reason alone, i feel no particular connection to it. but even more significantly, it belongs to an EVIL, terrible, horrific, awful, ugly-souled, horrible man (this would be the step-father, in case i've lost you), whose legacy i don't want to carry or honour, and with whom i don't want to be connected in any way, shape or form. AT ALL.
hold on - it gets strange.
as it happens, we eventually discovered that this name that i bear isn't even my evil step-grandfather's. the story is muddled and unclear. what we do know is that at some point in his scarred and sketchy youth, he turned his back on "Robertson" (his real last name) and "borrowed" (stole?) his aunt's boyfriend's ID and assumed it and its name for the remainder of his life. was it to pass as old enough to work the railroads? was it to run from the law? the mind reels. i know i have a flair for the dramatic, but believe me when i say without exaggeration, this man was capable of despicable, disgusting, horrible things.
so then, other than that it's a neat little fucked-up story, what does my legal last name mean to me? it carries an evil and abusive history, perpetuating the chosen identity of someone history should be lucky enough to forget.
what i chose instead to do is ask a bunch of my closest friends to try to describe me in 5 words (preferably adjectives). i then collected the responses, found recurring themes, and in keeping with my french heritage, translated the words into french, morphed them all together, and came up with Valoise.
unlike the "new" birthday, which i've already grudgingly conceded, this new last name is something i refuse to give up. some day, i hope to legally change my last name. it is, i firmly believe, a better representation of "the real kaen."
"but kaen, we love you the way you are!!"
yeah yeah yeah. but is it really me? gather 'round kiddies, let me tell you a strange and interesting story.
when i was still a fairly young thing, the government of Canada changed a pretty significant law. previously, when a First Nations (or what the government still likes to call "Indian") woman married a non-"Indian" man, she lost her "Indian" status. became white, i guess? which whatever eh - you are who you are, no matter what the government calls you.. sure. except we're talking about losing out on the "freebies" (as the idiots call them) - the repayments our government offers First Nations people in exchange for having robbed so much of their land, lives, history, culture and dignity. so when the law changed and those women could "regain" their status, it was kind of a big deal.
well my gramma (from the Ojibwe nation) married a whitey. when my dad discovered she was now, again, First Nations, he decided to look into what that meant for him and his children. he had no idea what he was getting into...
some things were not a surprise: his real father had died before he was born. (or so the story goes. fact is, my gramma never talked about him which breaks my heart in many ways.) some things were a bit shocking: his step-father had never legally adopted him. so when he ordered his birth certificate, he discovered that the step-father's last name, which donned all his ID, was not his real last name. his legal last name was actually his mother's maiden name. my dad actually had to legally change his name so that it matched all his ID and information.
so technically, my last name shouldn't have even been what it is. for that reason alone, i feel no particular connection to it. but even more significantly, it belongs to an EVIL, terrible, horrific, awful, ugly-souled, horrible man (this would be the step-father, in case i've lost you), whose legacy i don't want to carry or honour, and with whom i don't want to be connected in any way, shape or form. AT ALL.
hold on - it gets strange.
as it happens, we eventually discovered that this name that i bear isn't even my evil step-grandfather's. the story is muddled and unclear. what we do know is that at some point in his scarred and sketchy youth, he turned his back on "Robertson" (his real last name) and "borrowed" (stole?) his aunt's boyfriend's ID and assumed it and its name for the remainder of his life. was it to pass as old enough to work the railroads? was it to run from the law? the mind reels. i know i have a flair for the dramatic, but believe me when i say without exaggeration, this man was capable of despicable, disgusting, horrible things.
so then, other than that it's a neat little fucked-up story, what does my legal last name mean to me? it carries an evil and abusive history, perpetuating the chosen identity of someone history should be lucky enough to forget.
what i chose instead to do is ask a bunch of my closest friends to try to describe me in 5 words (preferably adjectives). i then collected the responses, found recurring themes, and in keeping with my french heritage, translated the words into french, morphed them all together, and came up with Valoise.
unlike the "new" birthday, which i've already grudgingly conceded, this new last name is something i refuse to give up. some day, i hope to legally change my last name. it is, i firmly believe, a better representation of "the real kaen."
Monday, February 06, 2006
the "real" me
it's been quite the ride - this past year, these past few months. and i anticipate the next few weeks will be filled with some big questions and big decisions.
let's start this journey into "the real kaen" by talking about my birthday. about 3 years ago, when i first moved to the big smoke, i decided to change my birthday. ok ok, i can never change the day which saw me spurted from my ma's loins, i know i know. but i was changing the day i would celebrate my birthday. stop rolling your eyes, ok, i know. but look, my birthday is january 3. can you think of a worse day to have to celebrate? ok, maybe january 1 or 2 - those could be worse. but trust me, 3 is no picnic. people are burned out. they have thrust themselves headfirst into their resolutions - dieting, quitting smoking, you name it. they are broke. they want to curl up and watch tv - not go out and do more feasting and celebrating.
the second problem was the astrology. i'm not a huge astrology person (which you could ironically ascribe to my capricornican nature). but i've learned that the people who ask you "what's your sign", are. so i was always reticent to tell these people that i was a cap. i've read the horoscopes, i know what people think: capricorns are uptight, money-clinging, perfectionistic, workaholic, attachment-fearing recluses. this does not describe me, not even a little bit.
so i went on a quest with some close friends to find the sign that best described me, while also being in a more celebratory season. we settled on may 6 - taurus (which is also my rising sign) and as it worked out, the birth date of Orson Welles. (citizen Kaen - get it? get it?)
well that was great, really it was. i loved the few times i got to celebrate what i lovingly call "princess day" in may. what i didn't love were the raised eyebrows, rolled eyes and scoffing, humouring laughs whenever i explained the complexities of my dual birthday.
so i gave up.
when i told a close friend i was reverting back, she exclaimed her delight. "you keep trying to change yourself, but we love you for who you are!" it was a sweet gesture, touching really. but is january 3 really the "real me"??? this year, i went back to january 3, and it sucked. we had no money. we were on a post-holiday fast. and my boyfriend discovered a birthday greeting from my ex that drove him a little insane, and we fought. and nobody called. is this "the real me"?? does this sad, lonely, cold, broke, burned-out day truly represent "kaen" better than a warm, springy, light-vibed day in may?
i sure as shit hope not...
let's start this journey into "the real kaen" by talking about my birthday. about 3 years ago, when i first moved to the big smoke, i decided to change my birthday. ok ok, i can never change the day which saw me spurted from my ma's loins, i know i know. but i was changing the day i would celebrate my birthday. stop rolling your eyes, ok, i know. but look, my birthday is january 3. can you think of a worse day to have to celebrate? ok, maybe january 1 or 2 - those could be worse. but trust me, 3 is no picnic. people are burned out. they have thrust themselves headfirst into their resolutions - dieting, quitting smoking, you name it. they are broke. they want to curl up and watch tv - not go out and do more feasting and celebrating.
the second problem was the astrology. i'm not a huge astrology person (which you could ironically ascribe to my capricornican nature). but i've learned that the people who ask you "what's your sign", are. so i was always reticent to tell these people that i was a cap. i've read the horoscopes, i know what people think: capricorns are uptight, money-clinging, perfectionistic, workaholic, attachment-fearing recluses. this does not describe me, not even a little bit.
so i went on a quest with some close friends to find the sign that best described me, while also being in a more celebratory season. we settled on may 6 - taurus (which is also my rising sign) and as it worked out, the birth date of Orson Welles. (citizen Kaen - get it? get it?)
well that was great, really it was. i loved the few times i got to celebrate what i lovingly call "princess day" in may. what i didn't love were the raised eyebrows, rolled eyes and scoffing, humouring laughs whenever i explained the complexities of my dual birthday.
so i gave up.
when i told a close friend i was reverting back, she exclaimed her delight. "you keep trying to change yourself, but we love you for who you are!" it was a sweet gesture, touching really. but is january 3 really the "real me"??? this year, i went back to january 3, and it sucked. we had no money. we were on a post-holiday fast. and my boyfriend discovered a birthday greeting from my ex that drove him a little insane, and we fought. and nobody called. is this "the real me"?? does this sad, lonely, cold, broke, burned-out day truly represent "kaen" better than a warm, springy, light-vibed day in may?
i sure as shit hope not...
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