On Michael Jackson

So, another one of a multitude of posts about the King of Pop.
I don't feel the same grief as many people around me, but it does feel..odd.

I didn't grow up during the height of Michael's fame; I never experienced the waiting for one of his albums, never got to think of going to one of his concerts, and now I obviously never will. I was fourteen in 2003, and watched the trial incomprehendingly. I'll never know if he was guilty or not; it's not up to me to say. I believe...I don't know what I believe on that count, but I'm not sure he was guilty, as I'm not sure he was innocent. What I am sure of is that he was profoundly disturbed, and needed help, and never got it.
I see people complaining a lot that these issues have been glossed over in the wake of his death, while others are going on about how he wasn't convicted so he must be innocent; now the second claim ignores what the justice system actually is, and I've not been seeing much evidence of the first, myself, but then I also find it impossible to not think of the darker sides of his life, whatever really happened. I'm not sure he was a child molester; I'll never be sure, I think, unless something comes up in the next few weeks, which is quite possible. But I'm fairly sure he had some extremely inappropriate attitudes which could've been abuse...no, I really don't want to go there. Suffice to say I'm not trying to erase all the bad-because there was a lot of bad-, but I'm also not going to be part of the people shouting "pedophile" like it's going out of fashion, although I can understand the furore at the perception of a child-molester "getting away with it". I don't know, I really don't know.

But he still was an important feature in my life.

You see, i grew up in France, in an english-speaking household, with an odd mix of cultures that's up to this day impossible for me to define. My family observes very few traditions; I can think of two indiscutable ones, a swedish Christmas eve smorgasbord at my grandmother's, and an English Christmas at my house, with no presents until after lunch and roast and christmas pudding and the like. My mother only cooks traditionally english food on such occasions, and other than that I think we were more brought up according to French usages than English ones, but I don't really know. The main difference I had with my friends growing up was the language and the fact that they all had a lot of relatives living nearby; I often envied my best friend's family reunions, while she still actively avoids them.

So the main way I related to my roots, up until I turned fifteen and first went to Scotland without my parents, was through books, music, and films. I turned fifteen in 2004; we'd had internet for years, but we only got broadband in 2006, so before that watching stuff online was nigh impossible, and we didn't yet have english-language channels, so most of the movies I saw were french-dubbed; it took me ages to get over watching Friends in English, for instance. Books on the other hand were in no short supply, and to this day i read mainly in English.

But music was something else.

When I was little, even in France(I say "even" because as a child it seemed like i was so very far from everything I'd known before) everyone knew Michael Jackson. His songs came on at every party; they still do. He was ubiquitous, he was the King of Pop. My dad actually used to live with one of his choreographers in the seventies in LA, of all the odd occurrences.

It's a very odd thing, how I relate to his music although it's in no way of my generation; an odd thing to watch my brother, who's only three years younger than I am and yet to who MJ's death is just a big thing for old people. But then my brother was always very much more French than I was...
I can't hear a song of his without it bringing back memories of my childhood; happy memories. And I can't listen to I want You Back without being sent right back to the Best Friend's old car, two years ago, when we drove from here through northern Italy, all the way from here to Venice and back, with her old CD player in the back of the car and that song blasting out from a 70's compilation CD. Good times.

Him, Elvis, Kurt Cobain-they were what I grew up with, they were what made me stop and think "hey, I'm part of this culture too". I watched his (old by then) videos on MTV, watched the new ones when they came out in '01. I taped Kurt's last live performance when it came on TV in 2004. But Kurt was more during my angsty teen phase, unsurprisingly enough; Michael Jackson was my childhood. Through his music, a part of me stayed connected to who I was, even when I was hiding the fact I spoke English from everyone around me and tried to be as French as i could.
And it made me happy, and made me dance, and it still does; and for these things I can thank him, and hope he rests in peace, and leave the darker aspects of his life well alone, while hoping those around him can have a peaceful life.


(Edit : Holy Shit, he actually made the intertubes crash.Insane.And there's not a blog or website that I've yet seen that doesn't mention his death)

In love with an idea

This happens to me a lot.
It's been nearly two weeks since that weekend in Scotland, and I never did hear from John, apart from his confirming me as a friend on Facebook. I'm not too fussed now, but I'll admit to being annoyed, and confused.
Probably because he seemed so damn interested. Dude, don't tell me you're going to write on FB if you're not going to, don't tell me "why d'you have to live in France?" in a wistful voice, don't tell me you've had the best time.
I'm not going to have a nervous breakdown over you, don't you worry.

I have a few ideas on the subject, the first being that boys often have a certain idea of girls, and so say this kind of stuff to appease them, i suppose; the famed "i'll call you" when they have no intention whatsoever of doing it.
i don't know, I just find it so dumb, as do many women I know. What's the point of making me expect something more? It doesn't really matter to me either way to start off with, and if I don't expect anything I won't be disappointed. But since I'm expecting to hear from you, I can wait and wait and get all paranoid and shit, which is time-consuming and a pain in the arse.

i'll never understand the logic, I must admit.

But then I've been hearing a lot about John, and apparently he's somewhat of a ladies' man, and tends to sign off and not give any news. Seems kinda stupid of him to fuck me in that case since his sister loves me to bits. Men can be very odd.

But there you are, I am definitely not heartbroken, which would probably surprise him, and I'm looking forward to the Best Friend's 21st this weekend :)

Singlehood

Title says it all. I am officially single again, after another argument with JJ made me say that this was it.
I know it's the better choice; he's been making me feel less than for a while now, he was going to dump me in august anyway, it's not as if it would have been very different. I still feel a bit weird about it though. I'm terribly bad at breaking up with people, unless there's a really definite reason, something I can point out that's immediately recognizable.

I'm trying to figure out how much of this was triggered by my weekend in Edinburgh, but if truth be told i've been thinking of ending it for a while, and just never had the guts, which is why i needed an argument to do it.

and the problem is he just won't stop talking to me now, what with texts and emails, and i need some space. And he's not even saying he wants me back and stuff, he's only said "well, i love you but i won't beg" man, i don't want you to beg, i want you to stop talking to me until I can deal with it. Like tomorrow. Although knowing that he actually didn't want to break up with me would've been nice, I'm definitely not convinced, but i'll survive.

I just need some time to figure this out. I have so much shit to figure out at the moment, it's not even funny.

Up close and personal

So, last night I got back from a weekend in Edinburgh, which is one of my favourite places, and man am i depressed.
I went there for my lovely JB's 21st birthday party, and ended up spending three days partying and not sleeping much. I am completely shattered.
And I managed to end up cheating on JJ, but since we started arguing as soon as I set foot on French soil, I'm not feeling so guilty about that at all.

I'm just so tired. I had such a great time this weekend, I met some really lovely people, including JB's brother, John, the guy I got with, and it's such a brutal crash being back here, having to work and write my report and having JJ go on and me and all that. I just don't want to deal with anything, and I want to go and spend my summer over there, away from everything here.

There's always a place for me in Edinburgh, and that's the nicest thing ever.

So back to John...well it was great fun. It felt so good to sleep with someone who's actually really enthusiastic about sex, as opposed to JJ only really wanting to when we haven't seen each other for at least ten days. I always feel so bizarre with him, like there's something wrong with me. Plus his rebuffing me doesn't do my ego any good at all.
Yes, i know, I'm a bad person, blablabla. But hey, I'm happy with it, and he'll never know, so there.

I just want to go back there, and it's not for John. It's just because I love Edinburgh, I love the people there, i always have so much fun (no comments on that) and it just feels so comfortable. I don't know. It's a home away from home, I guess.

Funniest moment : picking up one of JB's welsh mates at the empty airport, and seeing this familiar woman walk towards us with two policemen, and then JB goes "oh, it's Susan Boyle" really loudly, in a surprised voice, and then Susan Boyle waves at us. And i was looking behind to see who she was waving at, while JB was turning red, and Sa was giggling away. A right trio of fools we must've looked, but it was funny. Plus now I get to go "oh...it's Susan Boyle" at JB any time, and she laughs. There was my claim to fame for the weekend^^(and she looked a bit spaced-out, but otherwise fine, to me. Very smiley.)

In memory of Dr George Tiller

I'd never actually heard of Dr Tiller before this, and I've been learning pretty damn fast. It's things like these that make me so damn thankful my parents didn't decide to raise me in the US.

He was shot in a church because he provided late-term abortions, saving women's lives.

I don't understand how anyone, much less a "pro-lifer" can justify this. Pro-life, my ass.
I'd never clearly before understood the extent of the harassment women, nurses, and doctors in the US face when dealing with abortion.

I don't understand the black/white mindset in general, but this makes it even more crazy. Can these people not read? Do they not know why people are allowed late-term abortions? I mean, maybe I have supernatural abilities because I have a vagina and so might face this situation, but seriously. How can anyone be so settled in their narrow little conceptions of right and wrong, of life and death.
I wish I could be at a vigil right now. I wish I could scream at all these people, browbeat them into being afraid as they try to do to women. I've never wanted to be in the US this badly, I think. Sad, isn't it.
I just can't get my head around it. I'm not crying over this death, but it's the second one to shock me badly in two weeks. Sylvain only died two weeks ago, and here comes another death that hits hard. This hits me hard because I am really worried about what will happen to all the women in the US now.
There are now, from what I understand, only TWO late-term abortion providers. How is that even possible???How are they ging to manage? Which students are going to step up to the task while knowing they risk their lives to help women, to save their damn lives?
Oh, yeah, a woman's life is worthless, I forgot.

You know, I had a pretty bad scare this month. My period was extremely late, probably because of shock and illness and stress, and I was seriously worried. I didn't even think about it. I am in no way fit to raise a child at this time in my life. I don't want to raise a child. All my thoughts are centered on going to Taiwan and studying and the like. It's just not a question. So I looked up exactly what to do if I needed to-one of my fears has always been to not know I'm pregnant until the 14th week, which is the limit here save for medical deformities and the like-the same stuff Dr Tiller was dealing with- and not being able to get an abortion. So I read that I have to call a hospital that provides abortion as a service, make an appointment, i'll see a counselor, make another appointment, and it'll be done.
Just where my parents live, I can go to three different hospitals that aren't more than half an hour away.
And if I can't afford it (that's possible, i think it's paid for up to 70% by the State)or if I don't want my parents to know, I could go to the Planning Familial, and they'd sort it out for me.

And I want everyone to have this choice. I want every woman to able to choose what the hell she wants to do with her body. Whether that's by contraception, so abortion isn't needed; cheap, easy to get, safe abortion for whatever reason ; State help if she wants to raise her child alone.

Christ am I glad to live in a secular country. My thoughts go out to Dr Tiller's family, friends, staff, to the women he helped, to those who need his help, and basically to anyone who needs them tonight :( .

Fuck you, prolifers. Fuck you. I hope there is a hell, so that you burn in it for advocating murder. Not just his, but the murder of all the women he saved and would have saved.

I don't give a flying fuck about "tarring all prolifers with the same brush". Fuck that shit. I don't give a damn if you're moderate-you never hear about the moderates. By not speaking out, you've just been condoning all the "Tiller the Baby-Killer" rhetoric that led to his murder. You've been condoning the people who posted his address and phone number. Fuck you too.
Here's my take : there's no prolife about this. You're prochoice or antiabortion. And anyone who's advocating taking away a woman's right to choose, instead of, oh, I don't know, advocating birth control and sex education, can kiss my ass.

I just can't believe it's the 21st century.

here are the links to much, much better posts on the subject.