Monthly Archives: August 2012

A Beginning and an End

At the moment I’m sitting here in my living room with my whole life halfway packed in 4-soon-to-be-5 suitcases. In less than two days I will be taking a plane out to British Columbia to start a next phase in my life: university.

Everyone said I’d be sad at this point, reluctant to stray from my home. Though I don’t consider myself a particularly sentimental person, I was prepared for at least a little bit of a longing to stay. However now that the time to go approaches fast as ever that feeling has yet to come.

The fact is I’ve been waiting for years to leave. I feel like the time frame for me to be upset about leaving has come and gone due to the amount of time I’ve been waiting. I’m so old, should have been gone years ago…

But it occurred to me that as much as this is a new beginning for me, it’s an ending for my family. The end of seeing me every day, the end of our bonding time, the end of my regular stories, the end of my parents’ marriage…
And I feel bad for them. How silly of me to think that their happiness in life hinges on my presence, but it really does change things.

Of course there are things I’ll miss. I mean, I’m so so close to my parents. Though he annoys me a lot, my dad is one of my best friends. And my mom is the one person in the world I trust with absolutely anything. As for my brother, we’ve never really been terribly close but it’s always nice to know he’s around–makes me feel a bit less alone. There are my friends too–I just had my final goodbye with my two childhood best friends. And a little part of me might miss that one boy.

But I’m moving on. And there’s nothing I’m more excited for than this.

I just hope my family will be okay without me.

– K

Is It Now Okay To Say the N-Word?

A few months ago I went to a music festival in my hometown and ran into an acquaintance from high school. I was happy to see him until he greeted me with, “Kiah, my n*****!”

I can’t say I was offended, I was just more shocked than anything. For as long as I’ve been alive I’ve thought the “n” word to be something you never say to anyone. More than insulting me, as maybe it should have considering I’m biracial, I became upset about the word being used rather than it being used toward me. I told him to please not say it again, he did, and I haven’t spoken to him since.

Throughout my life I can’t say that I’ve ever been affected by racism. Though I’ve grown up in a predominantly Caucasian community, no one has ever cared about my skin colour. I don’t see myself as any different than anyone else, but in that moment I was suddenly separate. That acquaintance couldn’t call any of my other friends the “n” word and even if he had it wouldn’t mean anything at all.

As my anger simmered down in the next week, I realized that he hadn’t meant it to hurt me. I began to remember times during high school when people would use that word and in those cases it was used synonymous with “my friend.”

But when did it become okay to say nigger?

My brain barely recognizes the word as I type it. It’s just so foreign and so wrong to me. How can people use such a terrible word that was created to belittle a specific race and cause segregation?

Forgive me for letting my nerd-flag fly, but in the wise words of Albus Dumbledore, “Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself.” By my rejection of the word, am I only giving it more negative power?

The truth is, the “n” word is just that: a word! However it holds such history that behind the letters it’s so much more. Today’s society is a lot different than that of only 50 years ago. Things have changed dramatically. I liken the change of the meaning of the word to the change of the word “gay”, where it now describes someone who is homosexual.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to use the “n” word. In fact I don’t plan to–it’s not something that will ever be a part of my vocabulary. But I’m trying to tolerate it. I’m not saying that I don’t think it’s wrong to use it, I just recognize that it doesn’t necessarily have the same meaning.

– K

Why Haven’t I Been Listening to Miles Kane??

A few days ago I was on Tumblr, doin’ ma thang (reblogging shit, you know how it is) when I came across a song by Miles Kane on my dashboard. Being a super-fan of Arctic Monkeys and the band’s front-man, Alex Turner, I have been aware of Kane for a very long time. But for the stupid reason that he has the look of this one guy I hadn’t been too fond of, I didn’t bother looking into him (with the exception of The Last Shadow Puppets). On that day I decided to give Miles Kane a shot, mostly due to the fact that I’ve gotten to know the guy he reminds me of a bit better and as it turns out he’s pretty cool.

As soon as I pressed play, I cursed myself for my stupid, superficial reasoning.

What a beautiful voice Mr. Kane has! It’s very much like Turner, but a bit higher, a bit more melodic, I think. His lyrics are very reminiscent of the Arctic Monkeys’ front-man as well (he cowrote most of Kane’s album though, so that is to be expected). Within the first lines I was hooked. Wow.

I went on to listen to his whole solo album (he used to be the lead singer of a band called The Rascals, I’ve learned from Wikipedia–I should check them out too now that I think on it) and loved every bit of it. It’s literally been my soundtrack of the past few days.

Here’s the first song I listened to, the title track of his album Colour of the Trap. Listen, love, and them listen to him some more. How fantastic.

Flirting and Why It Is (Potentially) Ruining My Love Life

I must admit, when it comes to the “dating scene” I’m not the most experienced fisherman at sea (is that an expression? …now it is). By that I mean that I have not gone on one date in my life. While I’d like to say I’m just too good-looking and amazing personalitied (not a word, but we’ll go with it) that the boys are being shied away, I know that the truth of my inexperience lies in my flirting techniques. Or lack thereof.

I just can’t flirt. It’s like my body rejects winking and seduction. Truthfully I’ve never really put in a real effort–but it’s so hard! In addition I feel like a creep when I do try. One of my (few) attempts was at a high school dance. I went up to this one guy while “Sexy Bitch” started playing and told him, “I once met David Guetta on a plane and he wrote this song for me.” Nope, I did not get his number. Or really an acknowledgement from him. Now that I’m looking back he may not have even heard me because the music was so loud…but the fact remains that it was not my smoothest move.

Being open to someone you’re interested in is so scary! In high school I forced myself to Facebook chat this one guy I liked. This sounds promising, right? Wrong. I was literally SHAKING as I typed. It was so bad that I had to take the time after writing a message to get rid of all the extra letters I had accidentally added (“Hooww aree yuouuu?>”). And while I would talk to him on Facebook at least two nights a week, I was so nervous I pretty much ignored him at school. I was glad when that crush was over…

Another problem lies in the fact that I just don’t trust a flirt. I just find the whole “art” deceiving. On top of that I’m very clueless. Usually I won’t notice I’m being flirted with, but when I do I decide that I hate it. For example, this is what happened at a club two weeks ago:

Flirter: Wow, you’re beautiful! What’s your name?
Me: Kiah.
Flirter: That is such a pretty name!
Me:
Flirter:
…do you get that a lot?
Me: Yes.

My immediate reaction was to shut him down. Honestly I do get that a lot, but most of the time I’ll say thank you. Knowing that he likely wanted to hook up with me (I’ve realized that most guys in the clubs I go to are only interested in that) was just a turn off and I wasn’t having any of it. I also shut down the guy that filled his place. (“I am Alessandro. You’re pretty, where are you from?”/”Canada.”/”No…background.”/”Jamaican, Italian…”/”I am from Ee-tal-ee!”/”Cool.”)

The key to flirting, or at least as I understand it, is complimenting. And I simply hate compliments! When someone compliments me I feel like they’re being insincere, which is why I’m very slow to compliment others. I feel like this started because of Mean Girls–to refresh your memory, Regina George compliments one girl on her skirt and immediately turns to Cady when she’s gone and says, “That is the ugliest effing thing I have ever seen.” So when someone calls me beautiful, I feel like they’ll turn to their friend the moment I’m gone and say, “Hey, I think we’ve found the Yeti.”

I want to write about another point, but I can’t think of anything. Isn’t flirting just compliments? That’s all it ever is for me. Or being creepy, as I proved with the whole “Sexy Bitch” fiasco.

I’m not too worried about learning to flirt and whatnot. It’s not like I’m gunning to have a boyfriend or anything (in fact the idea is just the biggest turn off for me). But it would be nice to not be a boy-repellent when I do give flirting a go.

How much simpler would the world be if you could just look at someone and know they were interested in you? I hate these games…I’ll probably never flat out admit to someone that I have a crush on them. Or at least not for a long time from now.

This has ended very abruptly. But I have nothing else to say on the topic. It’s too stressful.

-K