An exception

I'm on record with my lack of romantic / sexual interest in hockey players (despite my deep and enduring love of hockey). The official haircut of the NHL is the mullet, for crying out loud. Missing teeth, broken noses = not attractive. However, there are always exceptions.

As much as I love a guy with glasses (and I do), this picture of Pittsburgh Penguins goalie Marc-Andre Fleury doesn't do him justice. You have to hear him talk. He has the heaviest French-Canadian accent ever, and it’s unbelievably hot. I'm not usually a sucker for accents, but I guess the warm fuzzies I feel for Canadians cancels out the inherent sleaziness of the French, which confuses my brain when I hear the two accents combined, thus leaving me defenseless against the raw sexual power of the French accent and my repressed desire for Canadians. Yes, I admit it. Canadians turn me on. They are the perfect combination of niceness, intellect, tolerance, unpretentiousness, and beer-swilling passion for hockey fights.

Furthermore, goalies have been toying with me for years. In-between plays, they are constantly doing the splits and these stretches that make it impossible for me not to stare, entranced, at their ass. They may be covered with pads, but it’s still sexy. I am not ashamed, damn it. I am hot for Canadian goalies.

Love, Tegan Jovanka

P.S. Zoe, you’ll have to forgive me for following your touching and heartfelt post with my fantasies of touching our neighbors north of the border. I feel so dirty.

Why are people so weird?

DO NOT accidentally leave the blogspot out when typing the address of this blog in your browser. Why is everything on the internet porn? How could there be so much demand for fake boobs? Who are these people who cannot get enough of it? I think there needs to be more anti-porn propaganda on the internet to balance it out. (Ha, it would take A LOT of anti-activity to get even a modicum of balance.) Well, I know it’s not much, but here's my 2 cents-

I hate porn. I think it's degrading. I am an anti-porn feminist. I'm not even a sex positive feminist. HA! Take that, perverts and sexy feminists! That’s right; I think people who spend hours trolling for naughtiness on the internet are pathetic losers. I’m not hip to the apologists. I refuse to toe the line and say, "I'm a feminist but I loooove sex and dressing up in slutty outfits and talking in a baby voice so I don't threaten the masculinity of all those manly sensitive men out there. Oh, do me with your enlightened johnson! Please don't call me an angry lesbian because rape fantasy doesn't turn me on. Don’t think I’m humorless because sexualizing young girls disturbs me. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable by mentioning how easy it is to use the internet for child exploitation. Oh, oh!!"

Love ya, big boy,
~Tegan Jovanka

P.S. This is not an April Fools joke :)

Odd

The past 24 hours of my life have been weird enough to warrant a blog entry.

One of my old college friends is in town visiting. I hadn't seen her in over six years. We decided to have a movie night. First we watched the perennial bad-movie favorite, Troll 2. I'll probably write more about Troll 2 later, as it is a very weird but very important part of my life. We also watched Gozu, which left a bad taste in my mouth. It was Japanese and billed as a horror movie, and though it was horrific, it was clearly not horror. It was a gangster movie with lot of lactation. Like, a lot. And weird genitalia. And...a soup ladle used in a way I don't care to write about. It was disturbing and gross. And I like wacky disturbing Japanese horror movies. I found my mind wandering through most of Gozu because I've had trouble focusing lately. That's a different story, though.

It snowed in Seattle today. It's the end of March. It's spring! I've lived here 12 years, and never seen it snow this time of year. The snow makes the next part of my weird day even weirder.

I have a cute little pet rat named Roman. He's my baby. Look at him. Isn't he cute?


Unfortunately, Roman (like many rats his age) is very prone to skin problems including abscesses. Because of this, I've been spending a lot of time at the vet's office lately. He also has chronic respiratory problems (specifically mycoplasmosis, which is a common ailment among geriatric rats). Roman has been on several antibiotics and I've had to have his abscesses lanced and flushed twice now. I was on my way to the vet today, when I had a coffee craving. I was early, so I thought I'd hit the nearest espresso stand.

Believe it or not, it took me a while to find an espresso stand. Usually in Seattle, you can't even spit without hitting a barista, so why on earth could I not find an espresso stand today? I drove for several minutes up a major stretch in North Seattle, until I finally came across a drive-through espresso stand. Excellent. The sign said "Chicka Latte" and the logo was a '50s-style pinup girl.

I pulled up in my car, and the barista was leaning against the window while wearing a naughty soldier girl outfit and thigh-high fishnet stockings. It was essentially skanky lingerie. Do I need to remind you that it was snowing? The other barista was wearing a halter-top/camisole type thing and a very short pleated skirt. I think she was supposed to be a schoolgirl.

I was a little thrown off by this. I just wanted coffee. I'm not offended by girls dressed in lingerie, but I want to be prepared to be around the scantily clad. I think that the store logo should have been more provocative in order to foreshadow things to come. I kept staring straight ahead because I felt like it was rude of me to look directly at them. This espresso stand is in the parking lot of an auto supply store. Very strange. I got my drink, handed over my money while looking at the girls as little as possible. I hope they make good tips, but it seems like they'd make more money at Hooters. Also, I think Hooters is less degrading than being forced to dress up like a naughty schoolgirl at work. Not much less degrading, but a little!

So, gangster movie with lactation, rat abscesses, random springtime snow, and nearly naked baristas. Um, yeah.

~Zoe Doom

Quirky

I’ve always been somewhat of an anti-social weirdo. In my youth I had a few friends, yes, but I went on a whopping total of two dates in high school, and one of those was a pity set-up so my best friend could drag me to homecoming without me being a third wheel. College was more or less the same. This never bothered me much, except in the ever-decreasing attempts of friends to set me up with boys (and occasionally girls), or on rare occasions when I’d get quizzed about my perpetual state of singlehood. My family never questioned it, and I’m thankful for that. This may not seem all that strange, but as I barrel towards my 30th birthday, I find myself in a smaller and smaller portion of the minority.

About eight years ago, I went on a quest to find others like myself. It was around that time that I stumbled upon AVEN, the Asexuality Visibility and Education Network. AVEN was in its humble beginnings back then, and was essentially just a Yahoo group and a bare-bones website. It is now a bustling forum for men and women with little or no sexual desire to discuss what they want out of life, love, and relationships. I was in contact with founder David Jay for a while, but we’ve lost touch. I veered away from AVEN for a few years, but one day I stumbled upon a book that spoke even more to me and my particular predicament – Quirkyalone: A Manifesto for Uncompromising Romantics.

I’ve never enjoyed labeling myself, but the label of a quirkyalone is quite versatile and I feel comfortable with it. There are several categories, and you don’t need to be single to fit in. Quirkyalones are introspective, often shy, creative, whimsical, and rebellious. To quote author Sasha Cagen, “We are the puzzle pieces who seldom fit with other puzzle pieces.”

If I do ever marry, which is unlikely, I know that there are others out there who identify with my values and share my ideals. I'm not the type to settle with someone because I'm afraid to be alone, and I'm not going to date just because I happen to be single. I know many women who are afraid of being single and end up settling for the first guy they find. I tend to have what I can only call "intense friendships." I've had "breakups" with people I've never dated or gone out with. More often than not, it's because there are people value their sexual relationships above their friendships, which means I've been pushed to the side and discounted a few times. I have never understood that line of thinking, my friends mean damn near everything to me.

International Quirkyalone Day is February 14th. It's not anti-Valentine's Day...it just happens to coincide with V-Day. I have never celebrated it, but perhaps I will if I ever meet others like me in person.


With love,

Zoe Doom