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Tuesday, May. 03, 2005 - 6:34 p.m.

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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

Dog Park Miscommunication

God people pick my ass.


All the girls, several of whom I get along with very well in the dogpark, and several whom I am just acquaintances with but not interested in being friends with, are talking in the dog park... "oh wasn't it fun this time at the blahblah bar" "oh yeah, and remember when the bouncer said xx to me?" "oh my god, i was so drunk i don't remember" "haha, well, you weren't too drunk cuz you said ..." "well, like the last time..." "this time misssy was dancing to all the 80's songs, not like last time" "and remember how that guy..." "oh yeah, the one you met three weeks ago, so..." "well, he was hitting on lulu..."...

and on it goes... And yes, I know missy and lulu and all the others.
So I ask "you should give me a call when you go... sounds like y'all go and sounds like fun!"

"we don't call each other, we just go out"

"well, i'd go if i knew you'd be there"

"well, we go on our own, we don't need anyone to call us"

"I go out on my own all the time, but i have no clue where you go so how could i bump into you?"

"It's written in the newspaper every week"

"well, I don't know which place, and there are hundreds of places written in the newspaper every week... I am not just going to go to a different one every week in order to maybe bump into the girls from the dog park"

"oh for god's sakes, it's not our fault you don' t read the paper... and anyways, it's at the Rosebud"

"where's the Rosebud"

"Hello?? It's been SIX MONTHS NOW that the theater Gleeglee has turned into the Rosebud"

"I don't know where the theater Gleeglee is"

"Well, it's where the old dandydancy nights used to be"

"I don't know where that is"

"well, it's not our fault you have no clue. Maybe you should go out once in awhile"

"Well, I do, I go to the Meow Mix and I go myself and I bump into my friends cuz i know they'll be there... but I don't know where you all go in the neighborhood until I hear about you talking about it afterwards"

"well, I don't go to the Meow Mix cuz I don't even know what or where it is. Well, exactly. It's been going on for 8 yrs and it's in the papers and you don't go or know where it is, so how can I know where and when you go to this other place if you don't tel me?"

"Stop getting angry. For god's sake, we just go out. It's not planned. We're not excluding you on purpose. Now you're all angry. Let's just let it drop."

.... OK, let's see. Couldn't they just say "oh, yeah, why don't you come next time. It's next Saturday at X bar at X address... we usually go about 10pm or 11pm. I'll try to remember to call you and let you know so you'll know someone the first time you go"..


Instead I got
"well, it's IN THE PAPER"

"well, we ALL go, why don't YOU know where it is?"

"nobody calls me, why should anyone call you?"

"we just tell eachother when we see eachother"
(yeah right. In front of me they say "see ya later" "yeah, soon as I change"... hmmm. so that is um, letting me know they are going to a public bar and that I would be happily included, vs they are seeing eachother for dinner at one of their places with 2 people, or going to see each other for whatever private or pre-arranged reason???)

Goddamn Straight Girls.

(I say the last cuz when they said "well what is Meow Mix, I said it was a once a month cabaret and dancing for women and some men" and they were like "I'm not a lesbian" "Why would I go to a women's place?".

Well why would I go, without knowing any friends, to some straight neighborhood bar with a bunch of people drinking beer and discussing the French equivalent of American Idol, who won the last Superbowl, and what car is set to win the Indy 500? The one bar (that doesn't have dancing) that they go to apparently, just dropping in, and then decide to go to the 80's dance music fun place, I've been in two or four times. A coupla times I was there I had an ok time cuz I went with people I knew. The other time or two I had a beer at the counter by myself while groups of people around me whooped it up with their friends. Much straight boy behaviour and straight girl behaviour. Which I can deal with to some extent with friends, cuz we're probably talking about their love lives or work or whatever we have in common.

But to sit in a bar where I am alone and watch girls giggle and flirt with drunk macho men (or worse, have the drunk macho men approach me), is not my idea of a fun time.

And maybe when I was 23 I went from unknown bar to unknown bar alone to dance to songs. I don't have the time now at 41. I go out to a place where I know people. Jeesh.

And yes, if I walked my dog at 8pm or whenever it is they walk their dogs, maybe I'd be part of their "sponteneity"...(though you see I was out at the same tonight and they just spoke to eachother in front of me, rather than than invite me).

Well, now I am perceived as an out of touch (don't read the paper, don't know what the "in" neighborhood bars are, don't hang at the dog park at the right times of day) angry person. yay. Fuckin me. Why do I have such a goddamn hard time at communicating something so simple as "let me know when you're going out, i'd like to come with"??

Maybe I just have to accept that a few people in the dog park like me enough to chat with me about their personal lives IN the dog park, but generally I am a lost queer funky fetish weirdo artsy girl lost in the innercity suburbs with a gang of drinking smoking tvwatching carracing straight people. Dang. Ya just can't get away from them.

Oh well. Why couldn't I have stayed normal. Or been born normal. or whatever.


Now I know why people move to San Fran.

grumpy wenchie.

***Newsflash*** As I was writing this entry, I got a call from a guy I gave my phone # to yesterday at the cafe... he actually called! He is an industrial design guy who is looking for work, knows my friends in the eastern townships, and he does renovation and construction. Not so bad. We'll see. He wants to do my astrological chart. We're meeting for supper tomorrow at the coffeeshop. cool. I'll see if he says stuff similar to what my mother wrote in my horoscope/chart when I was 18.

Haha, boy. that's a way to get rid of new "connaissances" quickly eh? Have them do your birth chart? hehe.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009


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