Sex Geek

I won’t be there, but my colleague Jacqueline will be swinging it solo this weekend at CinéKink. I hope lots of people go, because the film’s really kick-ass - last time we held the event, people said they might be interested in seeing a documentary, and this definitely fits the bill. We met the guy who made it at the Leather Leadership Conference in New York a couple of weeks ago, as well as a few of the cool kinksters who were in it, and they’re all really neat people. The filmmaker in particular was really excited that it would be screened in Montreal, and gave us his blessing to do so. Plus, this time we’ve managed to land a screen and projector so you can enjoy it to its full potential.

Anyway, so I’m sad to be missing the screening. But lucky you, you don’t have to!

The CinéKink film and discussion series aims to be challenging and stimulating to all - from staunchly vanilla to total SM newbie to seasoned kinkster! Every last Sunday of the month, we screen an SM-related film. Each screening is followed by a one-hour discussion facilitated by Andrea Zanin and Jacqueline St-Urbain.

People of all backgrounds, genders and persuasions are welcome. Come for the cheap flicks, stay for the quality conversation! Bring a friend, bring your mom, bring your lover. Don’t forget your curiosity, your opinions and your open mind.

Where? Café Blue Monday, 4424 Wellington, Verdun. Metro De L’Église. Street parking available. Note: The café will be serving food until 7:00. From 6 to 7, all perishables are 50% off. The special is very popular so it is advised that you arrive by 5:30 or 6 if you want to make sure to get a meal or snack!

When? Sunday, April 30. Doors open at 6:30 p.m., screening starts at 7:00. There will be a short break followed by a discussion for up to 90 minutes.***Important note*** The café seats a maximum of 25 people. Because this is the Montreal premiere of the film “Vice & Consent,” we expect that those spaces may all fill up. Come early if you want to make sure there’s room for you!

How much? We ask for a $5 contribution to cover the costs of space rental, equipment and movie acquisition. This is a not-for-profit event. ***Special note: we’ll have a projector and screen this time… all the better to see it with, my pretty!

What? “Vice and Consent” Directed by Howard Scott Warshaw, 2005(?)

Film synopsis: BDSM (Bondage/Discipline, Dominance/Submission, Sado-Masochism) wraps the gift of intimacy in very scary paper. In “Vice & Consent,” long standing and respected BDSM community members reveal a fascinating and unexpected truth under that wrapping. During the two year production of this feature length documentary, filmmaker Howard Scott Warshaw immersed himself in San Francisco’s BDSM "Scene" and discovered the humanity that defines this rich subculture. From behind his camera, Warshaw tests the boundaries between public and private, culture and subculture. The relentless candor, wit and wisdom of the voices in “Vice & Consent” shatters popular myths about BDSM practice and its practitioners. “Vice & Consent” exposes the truth about something most people believe they already know.Over the period of more than a year, Warshaw interviewed luminaries from the San Francisco BDSM scene include: Midori, the internationally recognized teacher and Japanese rope bondage expert; Jay Wiseman, author of many educational titles including the fundamental work "SM 101"; Cléo Dubois, founder of the Academy of AM Arts as well as BDSM author and filmmaker; Sybil Holiday, the noted psychotherapist and co-author of Consensual Sadomasochism; Janet Hardy, president of Greenery Press and co-author of many titles including Radical Ecstasy and The New Topping Book. A total of twelve authors and leaders of the BDSM community share their views and insights.

For more information, visit http://www.viceandconsent.com/.

***ADVANCE NOTICE FOR NEXT MONTH*** Due to various scheduling concerns, we will not be holding our May screening on Sunday the 28. Instead the screening will be bumped one week to Sunday, June 4. Mark your calendars now!

Crikey. I miss out on a couple of days’ worth of posting, and all of a sudden I have, like, four dozen things to post about. Let’s see if I can do it without rambling for thousands of words!

Okay, so first of all we have the Weekend O’ Trans happening. As previously mentioned, it’s going to be a Weekend O’ Kink for yours truly, in good ol’ Toronto. (Given the dearth of queer bookstores here at home, it will also be a Weekend O’ Bank-Breaking Book Shopping, but I digress.) But here at home, we have the Tranny Roadshow on Friday night and the Trans Day of Pride on Saturday. Please, please, someone go attend them both and give me a full report, OK?

Also, on a side note… please be aware that I find out about this kind of thing through community channels. So don’t be shy to let me know about things that are coming up. If they’re newsworthy, I can pitch them to the Mirror, and while I have no control over whether or not my article ideas are accepted or how long they’ll be once they are, it certainly starts things off on the right foot if I hear about ‘em in the first place.

Next, we have the sexiest damned ad I’ve ever seen. My honey actually sent me the link - he knows my tastes so well. Please, go and enjoy it. And remember, classy people of any gender drink responsibly. Even if they occasionally spill things down one another’s cleavage.

If that wasn’t too distracting, next up we have Eve’s Quest, the charades/trivia/ singing/drawing/intuition challenges game all about women. I’ve been hearing about this game since last year, and it definitely piqued my curiosity. Particularly that last bit - like, what the heck is an intuition challenge, and how do you score it? Does this have something to do with that feminine mystique I’m still trying to decide if it exists?

Anyway, I saw the game on sale at Venus Envy in Ottawa a few weeks back, and I kicked myself for not buying it when I remembered (on the way home) that the dyke social group I help coordinate was going to be holding a games day not long afterwards. So I missed my chance to play it with a perfectly appropriate bunch that time around. But I want to get my hands on a copy so I can sit by the water on a sunny day this summer and see how much I really know about women. I wonder if there are questions about, y’know, cunnilingus and stuff. Or maybe boobs. Yeah, boobs are cool. (Any excuse, eh? I know, I know.)

So now a good friend of mine has been hired to do some media work for the people who created the game, who happen to be Montrealers (we’re so fucking cool here, I tell you!), and I can’t help but want to give her a hand, hence this post. It’s partly my women’s studies background coming to the fore; I think women rock and I don’t think that our history is recognized and celebrated as often as it should be. (I know… how charmingly old-school of me!) And partly it’s that seriously, the idea’s really neat.

The current angle is that the game would make a good Mother’s Day gift. Which is great, except that my mom is avowedly non-feminist, and I think a game that’s all about women, while it might interest her, might also just leave her cold. She likes pink sweatshirts and flowers and Good Housekeeping Magazine and stuff. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Maybe I’ll buy her flowers and then buy myself the game as a Mother’s Day gift. What’s that? I’m not a mother? So what? My queer-boy partner inseminated a lesbian couple, and I hang out with the Spawn and his moms every once in a while… doesn’t that count for something? No? Party poopers. Screw that, then, it’ll be a self-birthday-gift instead. Hah. So there.

Shit, maybe I should buy them a Mother’s Day gift. Now there’s a thought. Dang, I’m glad I started writing this!

But they read this blog, so now the surprise is shot.

Y’know, this is getting very complicated.

Anyway, for those interested, Eve’s Quest is apparently available in Montreal at Indigo downtown, among other places. Me, I’ll wait until I go back to Venus Envy so my dollars go to supporting a small sex-positive business instead of a mega-retailer. Alternately, you can get it directly from the producers at http://www.evesquest.com, which is probably the best way to get the most possible dollar into their pocket.

What else. Leslie Feinberg has come out with a new book - hir first piece of fiction since Stone Butch Blues, which was first published in 1993, right around the same time as Kennedy and Davis’s Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold, a history book about the exact Buffalo butch-femme community that Leslie writes about in SBB; and Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers, Lillian Faderman’s totally fucking amazing history of butch-femme culture, which is a history book but so delicious it reads like a novel.

By the way - just to go all political on your asses for a second - unless I’m desperate, I never order through Amazon because the amount of money that actually ends up in the author’s pocket that way is the absolute lowest. I do most of my book shopping out of town at independent bookstores, but when I’m in town, I shop at the Concordia Co-op Bookstore. I figure this is a good place to plug it, since a lot of people don’t seem to know they exist, which makes sense since they’re buried in the Hall Building basement under the stinky and gross Reggie’s Pub. They totally rock, and they have a good queer and sexuality section, and they’ll order stuff for you no problem if they don’t have it already. I just checked into their summer hours, and the scoop is that they plan to be open Monday to Friday 10-6 (I know, I know, not the best hours for anyone with a Real Job) until mid-May, and after that by appointment if you e-mail them at books_ccscb@ warpmail.net or call them at 848-7445. They go back to regular hours on August 14 for the fall semester. Advance tip: apparently they’ll be moving to a more visible location on Bishop Street soon, which would be awesome. (Now, they just need to work on having later hours.)

Anyway, Leslie’s new novel is called Drag King Dreams and the title alone makes me horny. You can order a signed copy through hir site at http://www.transgenderwarrior.org/, which has very recently (like, yesterday or today??) been redesigned and now features a very kick-ass photo of Leslie right at the top. I just yesterday handed in my final paper for this semester’s English Lit class, and the topic of it was models of masculinity in Stone Butch Blues - so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m feeling a little Leslie-obsessed right now. God, I’m so not a crybaby, but that book makes me cry every bloody time I read it. And I’ve read it three times just this semester. The effect doesn’t seem to wear off. If you haven’t read it, you should - it’s a fascinating lesbian and transgender classic, and very accessible. I wonder if Drag King Dreams will become a similarly sensational hit. I will write a review it once I’ve read it!

Hokay, so I think that’s it for the moment. It’s 4 in the afternoon and I’m still in my bathrobe - ah, the life of a freelancer. So time to sign off, put on some clothes and go outside so I remember what it’s like to see that big ball of bright light that hangs in the sky sometimes.

Oh! Oh! No. Forgot something. Tonight, Stella, Montreal’s major sex-worker support and advocacy group, is holding a book launch. They hosted an international sex workers’ rights conference in May of last year, and they are now publishing the proceedings under the title eXXXpressions: Actes du Forum XXX. Yours truly did the English translation and editing for the book, so I get to go and hang out with some of the coolest girls in town tonight, and these chicks know how to party. Far as I know it’s an open thing, so if you feel like coming, I’ll see you there at 7. If you’re interested, call 285-8889 or 285-1599 and ask them for directions - it’s not too far from Beaubien metro. The book itself is phenomenally interesting and very educational, with pieces from sex worker activists all over the world - India, France, Canada, the States, Australia, Thailand and Sweden, among others.

Okay! That’s it, I swear! Going now! G’bye!

Okay, this is going to be short.

What is it with the fucking fart button that keeps appearing under my posts? Is Friendster doing this deliberately, or am I just the unwitting victim of random banner ads on a free blog site? I mean, how am I supposed to take myself seriously if every time I write an intellectual diatribe about sexuality, society and life, there’s a big red button under my piece that says "push the fart button, you know you want to?"

Heyyyy. Just a second now.

OK, Universe, point taken.

Warning: this is work safe, and it’s really not much about sex. (Sorry.)

I just got one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever had. A friend of mine sent me an e-mail saying that my writing reminded her of Speed Levitch’s.

Of course, I had no idea who this guy was, so I didn’t actually know it was a compliment until I looked him up (as she had suggested I do) and came up with a few very interesting tidbits. Which of course I will share with you here.

First of all, the basics: this guy is an absolute nut of the most delicious variety. He is, from what I can tell, about as head-over-heels in love with New York City as I am with Montreal, although he has chosen a markedly different way of expressing it. In essence he seems to have made providing commentary on NYC into his mission in life. He’s an urban gypsy with no fixed address, and he provides walking tours of New York full of intriguing observations and unusual asides. Sounds fascinating.

I must say, while I am genuinely flattered because he seems incredibly articulate and exploding with joy - two things I value quite highly - I don’t quite see the resemblance much further than our obvious shared love of language and life. Really, this guy is a performer of the most unusual kind, and I pretty much stick to the page. Or to giving sex workshops. Also, I don’t think I could pull off the charmingly nasal speaking voice and bindi dot quite so well as he does.

Anyway, if this is enough to have gotten you curious, read on. First we have the interview in Hybrid Magazine, in which Speed waxes poetic about all sorts of random stuff. A few favourite quotes:

"For years now, it’s been one of my goals to create new possibilities around the idea of delivery. This is very important for me because I feel that this is the only time that this city exists is when human intercourse is happening-when people are flesh upon flesh, mind to mind, gyrating, dancing, dealing living together! When there’s a real moment of sharing or gregariousness, this is when the city is actually happening. Nights of cold alienation, people sitting alone in their apartments watching television is the city not happening. The city is a dream, it’s a theory, but it doesn’t actually exist. The city is simply vitality and only when vitality is happening does the city happen. So, even with the coldest most two-second transition of a pizza delivery there is some sort of New York city happening, It is glamorous! It is amazing!"

"I am a vivacious chameleon. I love to taste the different flavors of this Baskin Robbins of reality."

"The suburbs are a very precautionary attitude and a very careful filtering of reality. It’s a place of spacious living rooms where people are fluffing up pillows to make their fears comfortable."

Next we have the video, which is how I found out about the nasal speaking voice and the bindi dot. It’s well worth the five minutes of watching. Very good. I particularly like his comparison of Fifth Avenue to a newborn baby. You’ll just have to watch it if you want that to make any sense.

And last but not least, we have the link to his book, which looks pretty trippy. It’s entitled "Speedology: New York On Speed." Sweet. Apparently the typeface changes every few words. I can imagine that reading it might be a headache-inducing experience, or alternately it might be cathartic - instead of making up the intonation as you go along, it’s all there in front of you, based on letter size and style. Wild.

In turn, Speed Levitch sort of reminds me of Rob Brezsny. Yes, the guy who’s got the syndicated astrology column that appears in the Mirror (and obviously lots of other places too). He tends to write in a similar frenzied joyful articulate way - his book "Pronoia Is the Antidote to Paranoia: How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings" has been sitting on various surfaces in my apartment for several months now, just waiting for me to finish all my school-related reading and start paying some more attention to it. So while I can’t provide a very reliable review yet, I can certainly say it looks promising. Anyway, Rob Brezsny is pretty darned neat, from everything I’ve read so far in his book and on his website. Another unabashed joy-lover.

But once again, I don’t think I bear much resemblance to Rob. He’s a professional weirdo astrologer. I’m a freelance writer and translator. I dunno. My life doesn’t seem nearly as fantastical as these guys’.

Now, the one creepy resemblance here that really does hold true, and that is that all three of us are repeat attendees of Burning Man. I could write for days about Burning Man - and I don’t have days to spare, or rather, the writing that needs to happen over the next few days really needs to be going into my final English literature paper, not into gushing descriptions of weeks spent in the middle of the Nevada desert in a temporary city with 40,000 other freaks culminating in a huge ceremony in which a 60-foot statue of a man goes up in fireworks and flames while people dance around its feet wearing all manner of strange costumes. Suffice it to say that, having attended twice and preparing to attend a third time, I can attest to the fact that Burning Man is reality and the rest of life is a) sleeping, b) wasting time or c) a period during which the only really valuable use of time is that in which one attempts to make the essence of Burning Man exist outside its original context. There’s nothing like a truly, deeply real experience to show you how much of life actually isn’t, and to give you a taste for trying to make it that way.

Okay, so if Speed and Rob are Burners and writers and joyful livers, and I’m a Burner and writer and joyful liver, does that make us kindred in some way? I suppose it does, and I can’t say the idea is unappealing. On the other hand, I don’t think anyone’s ever going to make a documentary about me and I don’t think I’ll ever be a famous astrology columnist. And I really, highly doubt that I’ll ever be able to do the bindi dot and nasal speaking voice.

But hey, as far as comparisons go, this one sure made me smile!

My oh my, but it’s fun to torture people.

Saturday night, I used my new cane for the first time. It’s about two feet long, and made of rattan, and wrapped entirely in finely plaited black leather. Quite a beautiful and wicked-looking tool, really. I smuggled it over the border from New York a couple of weeks ago (having purchased it quite legally, but not wanting to explain its use to border guards) and have been itching to try it out since. Without getting too much into the specifics, I was at a party, and I asked someone who knows how to use canes to show me her tricks, and then I tried my evil toy out on a friend of mine who’s rather a pain slut. She now has a nice line of more-or-less matching welts up the backs and fronts of each thigh. Yum.

My only regret: she’s enough of a pain lover, and I was enough of a newbie at this particular technique, that her reactions sounded more like those of a person getting a lovely massage than someone undergoing serious challenging endorphin-producing torture.

Note to self: find people who don’t like pain quite so much, and see if they’re willing to have some anyway. Yes, these people do exist, and they tend to enjoy the psychological element of suffering rather than doing "that pain alchemy thing," as a friend of mine puts it, i.e. turning pain into pleasure.

Of course, even better if I can play with people who like pain and people who don’t like pain but enjoy the process of not liking pain (yes, this can be very complicated to explain even if you’re one of them). Variety is the spice of life, ya? And what sort of person wouldn’t give her friend a "massage" (snap, whack) to help her relax after a long week at the office, anyway? Tsk, tsk. That would be just so un-generous.

It’s funny… as I’m writing this, I’m realizing that I have hesitations about sharing too much information about this particular part of my life in a public place. It’s not that the idea of people knowing I’m kinky makes me uncomfortable. Hardly. More like… I don’t know… when I’m having an in-person conversation with someone, I can see if the topic is pushing their buttons, and am usually able to suss out what the problem is and discuss it with them. People, even really open-minded people, often have major misconceptions about BDSM, but in "live" situations I can give them information and listen to their concerns in a way that may help them see things differently. This, on the other hand, is a pretty one-way format - I have no idea who will read these words and what impression they’ll end up having of What It Is That We Do. (Or at least, What It Is That I Do.)

On the other hand, if they’re curious, they can always ask. And if they’re offended, they can stop reading. We probably wouldn’t have made the greatest of friends anyway. Right? Right.

Well, that was easy. I feel much better now.

So, for the curious: if you don’t feel like asking, or haven’t joined Friendster and can’t post a comment (grumble grumble), here’s a link to a site that recommends several different online documents on caning, including how-tos and bits of erotica. For more general BDSM information, check out Dr. Gloria Brame’s excellent article entitled "The Five Fallacies About SM", and whatever else you see on her site, or another one by the National Leather Association (American) called "SM 101".

For the offended: if you don’t feel like asking, or haven’t joined Friendster and can’t post a comment (grumble grumble), you’re more than welcome to click on the same links as the curious folks, or you’re equally welcome to go off thinking BDSMers are disgusting immoral vile evil terrible people. You’ll be wrong, and you’ll miss out on some great fun, but hey, your loss. You can go back to missionary-position un-adventurous disconnected socially acceptable sex, just don’t complain when you find out your lover has never experienced an orgasm and your mind atrophies from lack of stretching.

Anyone in between… glad you’re here. Tolerance is okay, though not quite enough to make me happy. Acceptance is good - very good in fact, and much appreciated. Intellectual interest is great even when it doesn’t come with a turn-on.

Yay for open-minded people! And pain sluts of all - ahem - stripes!

I just went to Ikea this evening. When you first enter the big top-floor area of the store where they display fully furnished rooms, one of the first rooms is a bedroom. And the first thing I noticed was that in the bed, there were two pillows shaped like human torsos. I’ve seen these before at the store - I guess they’re comfort pillows or something, for people who like to cuddle without having to deal with someone else’s morning breath or cover-hogging. They come in his and hers versions - which have no defining features, really, aside from a t-shirt featuring a gigantic male or female gender symbol. Anyway, the cool thing about this particular sighting is that both of the people-pillows had male symbols on their chests. And there they were, happily cuddling in bed at the Ikea entrance.

The gay people-pillow couple is not the only happy homo sighting I’ve had in unexpected places in the last little while. The other day, my honey and I were on our way to the local video store to pick a flick for the night, and we passed by two boys cheerfully holding hands. In Verdun.

OK, for the non-locals, let me explain the significance of this. I don’t know how it works in every city, but I know that in Montreal, gay boys rarely show public affection outside the Village or some select areas of downtown. Girl couples are often a bit different; I tend to see more of them walking hand-in-hand in areas outside the official safe zones. But seriously, it’s really rare for the guys to get googly when they’re not in the statistical majority within a given area, even in a gay-friendly town like Montreal. Add to that the fact that Verdun has historically been a very… shall we say, unhip part of town to live in. That’s definitely changing now, but until very recently (like, within the three years I’ve lived here), it hasn’t exactly been the kind of borough where queers have tended to congregate. Though I’ve seen boys that pinged my gaydar, this is the first time I’ve ever seen any of them being overt about it.

So all of this to say that I like seeing fags in unexpected places. It’s like flowers growing in parking lots, or discovering a ladybug on your desk. They just remind me that the world is a good place, and that sometimes people are at their most beautiful when they’re outside their usual context.

I just hope that if anyone’s in the mood to gay-bash, they take out their aggression on a torso pillow and not on a real person’s ribcage down the block from me.

It’s so neat to be a writer sometimes.

I just checked out the Writers’ Union of Canada website because I saw an ad in the paper for a panel day they’re hosting in late May. Of course, the first words in the ad that caught my eye were "writing" and "sex." Here’s the panel I’m most interested in attending:

"His Breath Came in Short Pants": Writing about Sex, Desire…and Maybe Even Love:

Writers — young, old, gay, straight, men, women — talk about the language of desire. Panelists are Peter Dubé, Aimée Laberge, Elise Moser, and Bill Weintraub. Moderated by Douglas Gibson of McClelland & Stewart.

Very cool. I’m going to go because the subject interests me, of course, but also because I have a hankering to see who else in Montreal is interested in writing about sex. And I want their phone numbers! Also, it’s always nice to know that a professional group also just happens to be a sex-positive one.

It does cost a chunk of change to attend the panel day, and this is just one of the panels on it, so I’m guessing that for most sex-minded folks it’s probably not worth registering, unless you happen to be a freelance writer and can claim the fee as a business expense. But if that happens to be you, check it out at http://www.writersunion.ca/AGMpublicREG06.pdf. And let me know so I can say hi to you that day!

I spent another few minutes checking out the WUC website, and while I was at it I came across an intriguing little press release (which, unfortunately, seems to have no date on it). It’s basically about how the WUC opposes the removal of controversial books from a book-award nominee list. The paragraph that made me all happy was as follows:

"Freedom to Read Week, which runs until March 4, highlights challenges to books in Canada. Among the higher profile issues listed in the kit are the efforts by Vancouver’s Little Sister’s bookstore to prevent Canadian customs officials from banning books at the border, and efforts by The school Board in Surrey, BC to ban children’s books on same-sex marriage."

Now this is kick-ass. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that a writers’ union would take on issues of freedom of speech, and that this would logically lead to freedom of sexual speech and sex- or sexuality-themed writing and thus to queer issues. But clearly it does, and clearly the WUC has decided where it stands on these things. Sweet!

I did a quick google, and came up with this link to more info about the Freedom to Read Week, which ran February 26 to March 4. I really wish I’d heard about it at the time! Ah well, there’s always next year.

Now I just have to get my ass in gear and write a book and have it published (oh, is that all? piece of cake! riiight!) so that I can become a member of the WUC and hobnob with all kinds of sex-positive queer-issue-defending freedom-of-speech-supporting writers.

Hm. Well, since that’s not on my calendar for this month, I guess I’ll just be attending a couple of neat panel discussions.

Aaah. What a night. Definitely better than my day, which I spent doing laundry (how exciting!) and preparing tax documents. (I am so behind on this tax thing. Why does it always have to happen at the end of the semester? Who planned this?)

The highlights: The evening started out with productive meeting with the Gay Line executive committee, of which I am sort of a floating member, or as we call it, a "member without portfolio" - which basically means I get to give my opinion about things without actually having any responsibilities, unless I volunteer to do a special project or something. It’s one of the pleasures of being an ex-president, I suppose. Best of both worlds. And it means I get to spend time with a bunch of charming fags and a grumpy, acerbic dyke whom I think is just awesome. Meetings are never dull with this crowd.

During the meeting we figured out a few of the details of our 30th-anniversary event, to be organized by yours truly. (So much for that "no responsibilities" thing.) It’ll probably be something along the lines of a wine & cheese combined with a multi-speaker lecture on Montreal’s gay history. I dearly hope this is appealing to more people than just me - I personally find the thought quite exciting, but then I’m a big nerd. I just find Montreal history to be totally fascinating in general, and when I wrote a piece for a website a few months ago on Montreal’s gay history, I felt like I’d stumbled on a treasure chest of historical gems. I think we need to make the most of the fact that there are still some people around who can talk, from either personal experience or first-hand research, about the way things used to be. And Gay Line is Montreal’s oldest queer organization, so the tie-in is obvious. Right?

Then, I headed off to give a talk on polyamory to GRIS, which is the local Francophone group that does education about gay stuff in high schools. It was a big group, over 50 people I’d say, and very receptive to the talk - more so than I had expected. It’s really cool to know that people are interested in this stuff. Much more fun than trying to shove it down the throats of a hostile audience. (Pray I never get stuck doing that - ick.) There was supposed to be a triad of gay men there to talk about their personal experience of polyamory, but - the irony is awful - they just split up. Yesterday. It’s so sad! I was really looking forward to meeting them and hearing their story, but it would appear they’ve now closed the book. I don’t even know them, and I feel like I want to find them and give them all hugs.

From there, I hopped on a motorcycle with one of the GRIS guys for a short ride down to the Village. This was, in some ways, the best part of the whole night. I don’t care how clichéd it is… motorcycles are fucking hot. Burying my nose in a fragrant leather jacket, and wearing my own; feeling the throb of an engine beneath me, feeling the warm spring wind blow by my face, and leaning into the turns… mmmmm. So very, very enjoyable. It was only a ten-minute ride or so, but I’m still smiling as I write about it. One day, when I’m feeling rich and butch, I’ll buy myself a motorcycle and learn how to drive it. For now I guess I’ll just continue being a very enthusiastic passenger.

Never mind that I cracked my shin on the back of the bike when I climbed onto it and that I now have a swollen, bloody bruise the size of a large grape on my left shin. Do you think I told Mr. Motorcycle Driver this? Ha! I think not. It would kill my cool passenger cred. I just bit my lip and suffered. In a way I kinda enjoyed it. Just don’t tell him that.

Anyway, the next stop, after chatting it up with a few GRIS gay boys at Drugstore, was the opening-night party at Lips, the new dyke bar in town, with a couple of friends. It looks great. Really funky décor and very spacious-feeling. It feels like it’s not quite finished yet, but what’s there is pretty awesome, particularly the abstract lip-shaped mirrors, the huge chandelier over the bar, and the brocade all over the place. I can’t wait to see what goes on with their potential kink night - I hope to be involved in setting that up. How hot would that be? A leather night at the local dyke bar? Sweet! In the meantime, I’ll just enjoy it for what it is. Dyke space. Yum.

And now I am home, and it’s the wee bloody hours of the morning again. Why does this keep happening? Can I not be inspired to blog during daylight hours once in a while? And I’m starving, and my honey is waiting for me in bed. So much to do, so little time!

I can’t complain too much, mind you. We had a great night yesterday. We went on a three-hour late-night walk through deserted parks and streets in Outremont. It felt like the whole city was there just for us to stroll through - barely a car, barely a voice floating out of an apartment window. Quiet, peaceful and dark. We held hands and hugged trees and ogled funky dishware in the windows of expensive knick-knack boutiques. At 2:30 a.m. we wandered to Fairmount Bagels (thank god for 24-hour bagelries!) and picked up a half-dozen along with a pot of fresh cream cheese. Back at his place we ate hot bagels, drank hot raspberry tea, and took a hot shower by candlelight.

Tonight won’t quite have the charm of yesterday - maybe something more like a bowl of reheated vegetarian chili, solo in the kitchen, and a quick kiss goodnight before we both drop into dreamland. It’s OK. Not every night can be a romantic one.

Then again… maybe I’ll have dreams about motorcycles. Mmmmm.

The last weekend of this month, I’ll be teaching at TOKink, which is a fantabulous BDSM conference in Toronto.

But if I wasn’t doing that, I’d be at the Tranny Roadshow. It can be a real bitch to have such a diverse range of interests! Sometimes I wish I could clone myself. Somebody, preferably many somebodies, please attend and then tell me all about it, OK?

The one name among the performers that I recognize - and this is probably due to my own pitiful lack of education about trans performers, rather than any lack of fabulousness on their part - is Dylan Scholinski, whom if I’m not mistaken, is the same Scholinski who wrote the book "The Last Time I Wore a Dress." I believe he’s a painter.

Argh. Cloning, I tell you.

Anyway, go and enjoy!

***

The Tranny Roadshow

April 28 9 p.m. $10

At The Lighthouse, 930 Rue Champagneur, Montreal - off of Van Horne, the 161 bus and near the Outremont metro (blue line). More info: http://www.myspace.com/thlighthouse

The Tranny Roadshow is a multimedia performance art extravaganza which will be touring the country for the second time this spring. It is composed of an eclectic group of artists, each one self-identified as transgender, and includes poets, rappers, filmmakers, storytellers, breakdancers, rock bands, comedians, actors, folk singers, photographers, zinesters and more. Stationary art (i.e. photography and sculpture) will be on display, but most of the presentation is the live show, a unique variety show where the expression of gender and the expression of self are inseparable."

Performers: AJ Bryce, Citizen Rahne, Dylan Scholinski, Jamez Terry, Kelly Shortandqueer, Mackenzie MacBride, Tab Dansby, Tona Brown

For more information, http://www.trannyroadshow.org

Just in case anyone was curious: the porn I bought sucked. I am disappointed but unsurprised. It’s not that I don’t find bisexual orgies to be hot, it’s that the pure act of sawing away at someone’s cock is not sexy. The buildup, the enjoyment the desire, the arousal - these things are sexy. Then toss in a good blow-job and I’ll be interested. But the opening shot of the film was someone bobbing up and down, and it pretty much kept going from there - no story, no context, no nothin’. The most interesting thing was the occasional piece of dialogue in a hard-to-place Eastern European language. I’m not the sort of sappy porn watcher that requires the actors to appear to be "in love" and I don’t need to see lots of artfully shot footage of tossing manes of hair and so forth. But a bit of an arc does help, y’know.

I did, however, see a pretty cool piece of porn last night. The Scandelles (does it show I appreciate their work?) created a porn film of their very own. It was dadaist porn. It involved a woman in a tutu and welding mask, a guy tracking down a baseball cap, a clown, a rim job, someone in a plush tiger costume, and a thorough ass-fucking with a glittery dildo that matched the disco ball overhead. Not necessarily in that order. I do not have a thing for clowns or tutus, but I do very much enjoy the sight of a band of renegade queer women sodomizing some innocent pseudo-homophobic guy, particularly when it’s showcased at a public venue with an audience of lesbians. OK, some of the people in the audience found the scrotum shots to be a little much, and I admit I did have my concerns - not so much for me, but for how far the Meow Mix audience’s sensibilities could be stretched. But the whole thing was pretty hot, while being more than a little hilarious. The best part was when the bottom boy came out on stage afterwards to take a bow, wearing a t-shirt that read "I was sodomized by the Scandelles and all I got for it was this lousy t-shirt." And the audience did applaud, so I guess it went over all right.

I promise I will post about further porn adventures should ever they happen!