Winter break...

Howdy all, hope you're doing well.

I've got loads of stories, plenty of writing to do and just a little angst about some gay issues...but I've also been writing (and freezing) my ass of during my last semester of university. That all means not a lot of time for the blog, which really annoys me since I have quite a few posts in the works, but none really finished.

And now it gets worse, I'm off on my winter vacation...to the UK. Yes, I'm escaping the frozen north for a country with record snowfall and still below zero temperatures. Ugh. But I hear the beer's good...plus I get to see a bunch of people that I haven't been able to spend time with in a long while.

This is my very first trip completely alone. I've never traveled from one place to another completely by myself, even though I'm usually the one in control of the people I'm traveling with. I'm completely capable of it, and completely secure...yet my mother had to just get one last little piece of parental advice in during my car ride back to Toronto.

"Just be safe. I want you to be safe and come back all in one piece, happy and healthy."

I laughed and shook my head. "Yeah, I usually put myself in harm's way. You know me, always jumping off cliffs..."

"Well, just be careful while you're there with everything...and sexually..."

Wow, for a person I don't discuss my sex life with, it's kinda funny that dear old mom knows I'll be keeping my options open during my trip. Not that I'm seeking to bed surf my way across the home of my ancestors, or anything. I'll just let whatever happens happen. Besides, it sounds like my friends are insisting that I try to woo a Briton. Why, I have no idea.

But hey, I'm on vacation.

Photos...

The evening sky in Lyon...


I finally got to Starbucks in Geneva...


The Eiffel Tower, much more impressive than I had imagined...




Full Moon in Paris...


Monaco...


Monaco's train station...


In Old Monaco...


Random Romance. My appologies to the happy couple...


Inside a church, Bordeaux.





On a wine tour, near Bordeaux.


Au revoir, Paris...my personal favorite.

So France...

Hello everyone, welcome back!

I realize that I started this a little backwards, what with my post yesterday not having anything to do with my amazing 3 week jaunt to France. But I had to get that post written, and just figured that it would be ok with everyone if I skipped out on my welcome back post.

Truth is, I have no idea how to write about the trip. It's so big, and I really don't want to give you all a blow-by-blow of each day. So I'll round up the trip, give you a few excerpts from my diary of the trip, and a few interesting observations.

I traveled with a group of students as an educational trip on the modern history of France. That's a pretty broad statement, but it's a broad subject. Essentially we were tourists who happened to be students, with a professor along to point out some signifigant cultural sites. There were under 20 people onboard, so everyone got to know each other really quickly.

We traveled around Bordeaux and the wine country, went east to Nice and the riveria, then meandered north until we hit Paris. Every section was different from the last, but it was all amazing. The architecture, art, food, wine...the ocean, starry nights in tropical heat, with the lights of small towns winking across the bay...This all does not give the glimpse of 3 weeks of constant travel, but I've decided for all our sakes, I'm not going to rehash the enitrity of the tip. Sufficed to say, it was 3 weeks I'll never forget.

At first, I was a little nervous meeting people. I mean, I'm getting better at chatting up strangers, but at the same time knowing you have to make conversation for 3 weeks with people instills paranoia; what if I look like an idiot now, how well will we all get on after 20 days? But people were open and friendly, conversation flowed easily and ideas and observations were gladly passed around between us. Really, I couldn't imagine doing it with a better group of strangers.

There were two discernable groups, the 'cool kids' and everyone else. The 'cool kids' were the ones there on their trust-fund's budget, and focused on shopping at Hermes and Louis Vuitton. Not that I have anything against that...but there was a definate lack of interest in things like, say, the Louvre. Then there was everyone else, who needed more of an interest in the couture side of things...

Amazingly to me, I was able to bounce between both groups. I dined at expensive resturants with group A, and hit the museums with group B. One girl in particular liked pretty much only me and one other guy on the trip. We would steal away and find a local patio, drinking and smoking and talking about her sex life. It was very Cabaret-esque, I was the reserved Brian, her the bohemian Sally...she's promised to take me out in Toronto and show me how to have a good time. The thing I loved about our relationship is the fact that though she's the socalite partier, she's still got a brain and cutting wit, and she never once looked down on my less-than-fabulous party life.

Days flew by, trains took us miles and miles across beautiful green fields and vineyards, and even to a few other countries (Italy, Switzerland). We drank, sang, swam, studied...truly the freedom every student dreams of.

An excerpt from the diary, 15 May:
"I'm sitting on our patio, just popped the cork on a half-bottle of Mumm Cordon Rouge and opened a bit of chocolate. I've spent almost the whole day alone, which had felt both good and bad. THe nice part was the freedom from tedious moments: I go where I want, when I want.

But naturally, I miss being part of the 'the group' and all that entails. I've probably also missed a nice dinner, since I just ate and nobody else seems to be home. Except (blank) that is. When I got back from the pool he was here 'chilling' and has since fallen asleep on the couch. At least he left the BBC on. I wish he wasn't here though, if I'm doing this alone-for-a-day thing I want to enjoy it completely alone.

The frogs have started to sing."

Alright, time for observations.

I swear my gaydar was broken. Literally every young guy in France could be gay! They all wear sexy jeans, take care of their hair and skin, and are literally all gorgeous. It's amazing to walk amongst so many hot guys, but a little disconcerting because I can't tell if anyone's gay. But that wasn't the purpose of my trip...though it would have been a nice bonus if anything happened...which it didn't. So no, sorry, no sexy French stories for you.

Homosexuality in France seemingly is more accepted than here in North America, but that's a pretty unfounded claim. There were two instances of gay couples that would have turned heads in Toronto, but didn't in France. The first, at a train station. We were standing on the tracks, waiting for a connection, and ignoring the train next to us. Two younger guys came up the stairs, one leading the way to a train door. He stopped, turned, and embraced his boyfriend. They kissed, it was a passionate and sexy and very real. He turned again, and borded the train, while his boyfriend stepped back and waited on the tracks for the train to leave. It was very, very cute, but while it was happening I couldn't help but stare thinking "There are boys kissing in a train station!"

The second instance was in the Louvre, in one of the great halls of paintings. Couches were placed in the middle of the room to let tourists sit and admire the massive portraits and scenes displayed on the walls. We walked in, jaws dropping for the 53rd time that day at the beautiful art hung on the walls before us. As we wandered around, I looked at the couches; there were two guys who were sitting 'dangerously close' to each other for straight guys. A few moments and glances later, and they were kissing, arms around each other, in the middle of the museum. And nobody stopped, stared, pointed, screamed or otherwise gave outward indication they noticed or cared. Both of these things were shocking to me, but in a good way. After all this is 2007...

Another observation was my openness with my sexuality. Well, I wouldn't go so far as openness, but I didn't disguise my sexuality. Not that it came up really, but one girl, Ella, was talking about her best friend who was just coming out back home. She was obviously needing someone to talk to about it, and I always engaged her in frank conversation about the subject. But I didn't exactly scream, "Hey, everyone, guess what!"

One night we were seperated from the group, and ended up sitting on a park bench in the town's centre square. She brought it up again, and after a bit of discussion, I said point blank, "So, do you think I'm gay?" She hesitated for a minute, that hesitation you have when you're about to accuse someone who might be straight of being gay, but then said, "Yeah, it's crossed my mind." So I told her the truth, and got to complain how lucky her best friend is, who has been seeing this great guy...etc etc...It felt nice to be starting a friendship with that out in the open, and it really wasn't a big deal. She didn't care (obviously) and it really just took the place that it should: reserved for the 10% of my person that sexuality takes. I'm sure that the information circulated, but nobody said anything more about it.

All in all, it was a great 3 weeks spent. I can't believe I'm home, after looking forward to going for so long, but I've got a huge number of memories as well as some new friends to reminisce with. So welcome back, I'll do better next time at summarizing 3 weeks of my life. I'm sure I'll touch back on the trip again in future posts. And forgive me for rambling so long...

The only gay in the villiage...

Last weekend I was put in a situation that made me realize, however many times I feel like my situation is impossible, I am truly lucky.

On Saturday, once we arrived in Huntsville, the quite cottage town surrounded by lakes and picturesque forrest, we took a walk through the main street. The sun beat down on my skin, warming it after months of cold and sunless winter. I smiled, and had good reason to. I was with my family, the sky was crystal blue, and we were walking in the fresh, clean norther air, surrounded by natural beauty.

Of course, being the kick-off to the cottaging season, my mother needed to check into all her favorite stores, seeing what they had for the upcoming outdoors season. She lingered, talking to shopkeepers, while I daydreamed, aimlessly wandering shops. We came to our last stop, a kitchen/clothing/outdoors store near the end of the strip. Originally we weren't even going to go in, but decided to anyway.

The doors were swung open, letting the hydrocarbon-free air inside. Standing at the counter was a guy who must have been my age, and very cute. He looked...bright. His eyes were alert but smiling and warm, his clothes trendy but tasteful, and his mouth creased into a smile as we walked in.

The usual plesantries were exchanged, and my gaydar flickered. "Hmm," I thought. "Maybe?" After all, a guy my age working in a kitchen/clothing store?...but I tried not to think too hard about it. I gave him a smile and some eye contact, and shrugged it off as a mixture of me being oversexed and full of false hope. We walked through the store, and I wound up in the men's section. For being in cottage country, I was stunned to find their selection included a small but well-suited Lacoste section.

A few mintues of browsing later, and who should come up to me but the guy from behind the counter. The store was pretty dead, and I was off in my own little world walking around, turning to face him as he approached. He smiled, genuinely, but it felt like there was something more behind it.

"Uh, if there's anything you need help with, you can let me know," he said, still smiling. I held his gaze, desperately trying to think of a question to ask him to get into a conversation, but failing miserably. After all, what did I have to work with? Other than asking him if this color of shirt would look good on me, I could come up with nothing that didn't sound utterly stupid.

So I simply continued smiling, and said thanks, I'd be sure to let him know. He said he'd be over at the counter, and turned and walked away. Of course, in retrospect, I wish that I had the courage/balls/whatever to strike up a conversation with this guy, maybe even go so far as to try and have coffee with him after his shift, to "farmiliarize myself with local culture" etc. etc. Unfortunately I'm not that confident yet, nor am I naturally really able to make friends/pick people up off the street.

I ended up buying a shirt, and my dad bought some pants. The guy rang it up, which gave me more time to stare...with some attention being returned to me. I think, maybe I was just being overly hopeful again...He popped the stuff into a bag, and turned to me.

"Well I guess this is for you," he said, and stretched out his arm. I took the handle from him (and in another moment of retrospect, wished I'd had brushed a finger against his...) and we turned and left the store. Once we were outside, I shot another glance in to the register, and a smile.

Once I was firmly planted in a deck chair, sun streaming over my pale (and not-yet-yellow) skin, my mind drifted back to the guy in the store. I thought of how hard it must be, up in such a small community with no gays (at least not many who would be out), and no young guys for this guy. I thought how difficult it might be for him at night, lying in bed, thinking he's the only gay in the villiage. Who know's he's gay? And are there any other gay guys there for him to meet? Does he feel alone?

What does one do in situations like that? Obviously this condition must exsist for hundreds of thousands of gay youth throughout North America. Small town, not near any cities, conservative and closed-minded...

Not unlike my hometown.

Thankfully I have an outlet, by living in Toronto I have access to a huge number of gay things. I could haunt the Villiage if I wanted, or meet people online who lived only 15 minutes away, or go to a gay club and be surrounded by people who don't really care about sexual preference. But for these people, stuck in small towns with no way of accessing other gays...life must be difficult.

Not to mention the fact they might not even be open with their sexuality. Everyone knows that news of an openly gay son would spread like wildfire across a small town, and it would make long-term living in the town difficult.

Maybe I'm wrong about all of that. Maybe the gay youths like the guy in Huntsville have met others their age, and are making out just fine in life. Maybe they're happier, more successful homo's than I am. But maybe they're struggling with an impossible situation.

So that afternoon, and tonight, I counted my blessings that I'm able to live (for the most part) in a city where I know where to find guys, where I can actually meet someone in person whom I meet online, and where I can (hopefully) live my life without being stigmatized because of sexuality. And I send up prayers for all the guys who feel alone in their towns, with little hope of meeting another like them.

My weekend starts with not a bang, but a whimper...

Dammit!

Snow everywhere! I love snow, it's so beautiful as I look out the window, staring at the plane in front of me, I'm overwhelmed with blinding rage...

See, the plan was to fly to Ottawa tonight at 8, so I could be good and go to all my classes today. But wouldn't you know it, nothing goes according to plan. I was shoved to the 4 p.m. flight, since my later one was cancelled. Now I'm waiting in Porter's passenger lounge, which conveniently has terminals and internet access.

I don't know why I even bother trying to plan ahead, because if there's one life lesson I know, it's that plans often change unexpectedly. My family always plans vacations to the last detail, but nothing ever works out as it should. I guess I've gotten used to it now, since I rarely ever get away without some messups. But I'm still annoyed...

So the plan is to wait here until this evening, when I'll hopefully be put on a bus, taken to another airport, and then put on a plane. With any luck, I'll be in Ottawa by 9:30...like my original arrival time was supposed to be. But luck isn't exactly on my side today, so I'll have to wait and see.

Either way, you probably won't be hearing from me until after the weekend (again...I'm so sorry! I'll miss you too.) So until then, have a good one, and stay safe if you're in a bad-weather zone!