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Why bother?

So, I'm just finishing up a great night in NY, and will be heading back out come morning - but one thing sticks in my mind quite often when I do these pairings.

Why do some people even bother?

We went to a place called Bianca in Greenwich Village on the recommendation of the captain. I know, and am completely aware, that not everyone is a foodie. But the chances of getting a whole freaking crew of people who went to a delicious restaurant and ordered chef's recommendations only to find out that these people don't actually like food?!

We're talking picking/scraping off truffles (I had a tiny bite of a girl's appetizer after she'd had a bite and liked it, and I commented on the delicate flavour of the truffles. She freaked out, assuming it was literally shit, and then once I told her to think of it as a mushroom, she freaked out more because she "hates mushrooms", which is dumb beacause she liked it. And she is 31.), poking a slice of proscuitto and then licking it and deciding it's gross (it's fucking bacon from a different part), and ordering a "rye and coke" at a fancy resto to go with your meal - receiving a wonderfully balanced mix of a 15-year rye that tastes spicy and intriguing and went with your meal and then making fun of it because it's "firewater" (aka, there is booze in there you can taste), the vegan refusing the pasta pomodoro she ordered because she insisted she ordered "spaghetti and tomato sauce" (pomodoro must mean steak), and the FO cutting his food with full elbows on the table as though the noodles were trying to escape alcatraz and he was the lone guard.

My meal was fucking epic and consisted of fresh-made spinach gnocchi with a bleu cheese creme sauce. IN MY MOUTH. I got a wine paired with it. It was delicious. The serving staff were amazing. The ambiance was nice. Awesome. I had an appetizer of a plate of perfectly-cut proscuitto and cantaloupe.

And then I just left. I knew I may have made someone angry very shortly if I didn't leave, and besides - I had things to do!

I headed over to Brooklyn, where I stopped in for a couple of drinks at a place called Banter. I had a beer called the Mad Scientist, which was a hoppy wheat beer, and loved it. I wanted to have a rhubarb tea cockatil, but I realized that Best Pizza, a pizza joint I've been meaning to try since December with Aaron, was closing in 30 minutes. I hightailed it out of there and managed to get myself a slice of bianca before they closed. Was it the best? No. I really prefer that little pizza joint I stumbled upon last I did an LGA layover. Tomorrow I may try to re-find it for lunch. Yum!

Following that, I sat around and drank a road beer on a back street in Williamsburg.

And now I'm going to bed.
I'm actually pretty riled up right now.

There's a video going around titled "crazy quebecer goes apeshit on Asian dude for speaking English".

Or very similar, but the words Quebecer, apeshit, and "for speaking english" are definitely right.

Anyway. The video is of 3 Asian dudes (Canadian dudes, I'll point out - visiting Quebec from English Canada) getting in a fight with - yes, a fanatical French-speaking dude. The problem seems to have started a while before the video begins, with the 3 dudes refusing to make the slightest courtesy of a "bonjour" rather than a "hello".

The French guy goes absolutely insane by the time the video is rolling. The Asian dude (he's Canadian, let's face it!) continues to refuse to do the slightest courtesy of saying a French word that it's hard not to know - bonjour. The French guy is even debating the issue with them in English, proving he also speaks pretty good English. The Asian guy tries to make an argument about Canada being a bilingual country, and how if French guy ever went to English Canada, he'd have to speak English.

Ok. So let's analyze that. English-speakers are all backing that, going "YEAH, ASSHAT WOULD HAVE TO SPEAK ENGLISH IF HE CAME TO SASKATOON!!" Yes. You are completely right. And French guy points out that he does speak English (and points this out IN ENGLISH). Ok. So. Let's flip that. Now this native English-speaker goes to a French-speaking province. And then completely outright refuses to do even the smallest courtesy of speaking the language of the province. He acknowledges that things would be different in English-speaking Canada, which means he acknowledges that he's in French-speaking Canada, and still thinks he's right?

Do you see how that does not add up?

I started to debate this on Facebook. People attacked the shit out of me. "Yeah, well Quebec needs to remember it's not a country!" Ok. But the Asian guy is acknowledging that English Canada speaks English, and that there French people have to speak English. So what of English speakers in French Canada? Why is this a double standard? French people have to speak English in English-speaking Canada, and English people have to speak French in French-speaking Canada. Or at least make an effort, in either case.

No, this Asian dude is saying "French people have to speak English in English-speaking Canada, but English people do not have to make the slightest effort in French-speaking Canada."

I'm a Quebecer by birth, but I've lived in Manitoba - a bilingual province (one of only 2 in the country) for 20 years. I speak both English and French, and have cultural ties to both of them through my hertiage. Do I hold one about the other? No. Do I respect both when I am in places where the dominant language is one or the other? Yes.

It enrages me that even some of the most open-minded, apparently non-prejudiced people came out at me to point out that English people shouldn't have to try. Canada to them is "bilingual", meaning that everyone (every single person) should speak English, and French people should have to speak English, but English people shouldn't have to speak French. It's incredibly disrespectful.

If I were going to a reserve where the actual language used was Cree, I'd pick up a greeting, a thank you, and a please-type word. Gratitude words, in their own language. Because that's just fucking common courtesy.

English-speaking Canada is drunk on rudeness, prejudice, and hate, and this perpetuation is not helping.

Marriage.

Today I'm going to a wedding of a guy I used to date. Who is also Aaron's very good friend. How do I feel about this?

Good. Yeah. I'm happy for them, really. I'm happy to get to know Andrea better. It does give me that funny "getting old" feeling though.
Time for a non-cryptic post? Sure!

My cryptic posts were just me figuring some things out. I'd had a pretty important conversation with a friend that left me feeling a bit confused about the choices I've made in life. Wondering if I'd settled too soon, if things were supposed to be different, etc. It's had a big effect on my life, and I certainly am still incorporating bits of that conversation into the way I'm handling my life right now.

Ok, so that was still kind of cryptic. BUT! Know that things are still positive. Questioning is good.

Otherwise, I'm not going to Folk Fest, which does make me sad, but I simply don't have the money. Turns out being an adult is expensive. Houses need things like fences and porches and it's best if these things aren't falling down.

I wrote a weirdly-inspired piece on bilingualism on my ol' website here: http://www.cherrystems.com/articles/view.php?id=39

Things are really good. Every time I sit down to write about things, I get lost and don't know where to start. But things are really really good.

Yikes.

Perspective is balls, and I think I just stepped down off of one fuck of a pedestal.
All is fair in love and war.

In the end of the video, he walks away, assumedly never to be heard from again.

And so I live my life.

So, less emphasis should be placed.

Which I suppose is easy when there is nothing there in the first place.

Whoop whoop.

Going to talk to a professional about my lil' problems tomorrow.

I've also found a good friend in listmaking. Man, did I ever get shit done today.

This time off has been incredibly necessary. Going to work would have probably only made things worse to the point that I'd just end up screwing up my job on a daily basis. I'm glad I stepped back.

I pulled my hamstring the other night. It hurts a lot.
I suppose I should write about this, because years down the road it'll be interesting to see what I've done.

So I've got panic disorder.

Read more...Collapse )

Bleahballs.

Urg. Not really in the mood to go out right now. We were going to go to a nice neighbourhood restaurant with a couple friends that are also from the neighbourhood. Now we're going to Luxalune, which is fine - it's just not thrilling. At all. The service there always sucks, the food leaves a lot to be desired, and half the beers I want are never in stock. It's a place that tries so hard to pretend it's any good, but it just falls short in every way.

And now it's not just 4 of us, it's 10.

And Aaron volunteered our home as the after-place, and he's done nothing to clean it so it's all on me. On one of my 2 days off.

I pretty much only use this to vent anymore, don't I?

The move.

One week 'til moving day. The whole main floor has been painted. The upstairs will be started tonight.

Packing here at the apartment is going slowish, but I decided to tackle the hard stuff first. Things like the dresser and the closets, which are full of stuff to go through before packing.

I think this'll be ok.

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