Confirmation: I am slightly feminist

I personally find the conversation between my guy friends during a hockey game, out for drinks, or playing Call of Duty (yeah I said it), the most interesting and revealing about attitudes young men have in regards to women.

I think before I discuss what I said to my friends about their attitudes to women, it's important to understand my views on women and why I truly am, partially feminist. It should be duly noted that my close friends would already know this and others who do not know me well may be partially shocked. As a fairly dominant person, confident in myself and in the views of my ex-girlfriends, "overconfident", I have no qualms in saying that I thrive on women that are similar to myself - confident, in control of themselves at all times, and are comfortable being single and themselves without relying on a man to survive. The expression I like because it is so accurate and perfect for what I envision the most resilient of women is, "A woman who will settle for the right person, but won't be afraid to live without that person." I think women are powerful but yet under appreciated, underpaid, and dismissed far too easily. While I won't discuss all of these points, I'll drive a few of them home.
One side of me may appear to be the Duan Juan/Tucker Max of this generation which generally disregards the essential traits women bring to the equation - such as the creative, personal and affectionate characteristics that men seem to lack, the intellectual, diverse, and goal driven drive to succeed, and even the less aggressive, soothing behavior that acts as a calming effect in situations such as at the negotiation table. Even when situations like last Friday arise, when a girl suddenly becomes super submissive and turns me right off, still matter to me because I can understand where the girl is coming from. This girl asked me, "Tyler, what can I do to make you see me more? Even if we could spend only one hour more a week, I would love that - doing whatever you want." I looked at this girl differently after that, I mean, here she is, this beautiful and nice, twenty something year old girl, who became so emotionally invested into me and way too caught up and she doesn't even know me very well. Women are like that, more emotional (not always, as I am quite the emotional person myself), and sometimes, way too submissive -  not that there is anything entirely wrong with it, but have some confidence!
However, in nearly all studies, the male of the human species appears more aggressive than the female; this conclusion is strongly supported by ethological studies of mammalian behavior, particularly primate behavior, and by the common observation that there are more men than women in armies, physically violent sports, and criminal penitentiaries (CBMW 49). What separates myself now from someone else, is that I feel men use women in today's world, to satisfy themselves. Pure selfish behavior, where man believes they are the stronger sex and justifiably thus deserve to abuse the weaker sex, by using them in whatever way, whether it is emotionally, physically, or even sexually. The Girl with the Red Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson, is a great book that exemplifies these points further. It shows women in situations where they are vulnerable of abuse, being abused. This book and others like it, truly make me very angry. I find it despicable and revolting when women are used to be exploited by men - how dare men take advantage of women when they can? What gives them that right? Women are treated as sex objects in today's culture, and treated as slaves by many religions - the Koran itself is disgusting in how it delegates women to below men (two women have to have the same opinion to be considered equal to one man). The list goes on, and my fingers here, typing up this, are shrieking furiously in anger at what I consider total injustice by men throughout the centuries, starting with prostitution. Don't even get me started on why I believe prostitution should be entirely illegal, none of this legalize it for the safety of the 'sex workers' nonsense; it's an industry based on exploiting women. While I won't go as far as supporting entirely feminist movements that attempt to promote more rights to women than to men, I definitely believe in the majority of feminist arguments that detail why women do not have the same equality as men.

As my guy friends began talking about this "smoking broad they slammed last week," I stood up. They all kind of looked up from the hockey game at me. "Guys," I said, "We're better than this. And we all know it."
They all kind of stared at me, and one of them kind of awkwardly laughed.
But they knew.
No more.

1993.

Where the sun stayed up all night in my dreams and I went to bed wishing my eyes never had to close.
I would stay up and stare out my window and count to ten and wish that I was old enough to sit out and watch the moon begin to impose.
Christmas was always my favorite time of year, new bike, Mum brings out the camcorder, I'm in heaven. Training wheels broken in, riding all alone, whoops, there's a scraped shin bone.
Little sister chasing me around, and back then, no baby brother.

Time flies and snow came down, then there was 1996.
I'd clean the house with Mum, prepare the rooms for guests. I'd joke with my new brother in hopes of us being best friends - couldn't understand all of me yet, he was only two.
We'd wake up way too early and rush through our schoolwork, because when you are homeschooled, you work your own pace, and that's what I did best, passing all of my tests, on my own, because I could do it.
It's 1997 and I'm still in the sandbox in the backyard, listening to "Roll of Thunder Hear my Cry." I couldn't wait for our family trip to the southern USA, beaches, innocence, camping, yes.

Summer flew by, and look, I'm ten years old and it's 1998.
Bran Van 3000 is playing in the background and although I wasn't drinking in LA,
I couldn't wait to stay up late.
I always knew then, at the age of 10, I could like somebody.
My sister was so pretty. We were close. Captain Claw on the computer, 9pm at night, 1999.
My friend Jonathan and I would throw the baseball for hours, I would never take long in the shower because I wanted to always get out of the house! to go outside, or who am I kidding, play Goldeneye!

My friends meant the world to me, J.D. MacCuish and I were inseparable, energetic kids who meant the world to each other. So much in common, such good friends for what I thought would be forever.
Star Wars, the Phantom Menace. Lost four teeth, surgery, was in pain for a week. I was a trooper and I felt like a king.
My friends came over and I couldn't wait to show them my battle scars (even in my mouth)! They were jealous but it was around that time I met my new best friend, Mitts.

Slowly the '90's wore out and I entered the new millennium.
This staying up late, more responsibility stuff, it just wasn't worth it.
Scary enough for me was the fact that I was growing up, I hated it, like what was this stuff?
I just wanted to play hockey, and stay at home, and never grow up, because when your childhood is perfect, isn't that enough?

Boy Scout of the year, Prince Edward Island Scouts Jamboree, 2001.
Home is where the heart is, and I was home in every way.
It was pulling more teeth when I made the move away.
From my home, to a strange place I've never been, Alberta, Canada.
This picture does justice for emotions when I made the move, this was now my home.
So big, so alone. Welcome to the West.

No friends, new school, new place, new grounds. 13 years old. How I wished for '93...

I don't mind feeling this way when you look at me that way

I think the title says it best
it's tough when you're closer to my heart, but I can't help but wish we were further apart.
I don't know what is tougher;
missing my life in Europe,
or the times where I wasn't with you
yeah I know I sound all bitter and tough
but I'm not joking when I said I've had enough
I don't know how to tell you though that my heart
has moved on from making things right
to not caring if you're the last one I see before
I put out the light

Remember that time, CN Tower, rainbow shining
I stood on top of the building and looked down at the
city below us, fading into black, beginning to blink
I didn't know then but I know now
I'm not ready to fight for you
I can't be there for you
And no, for all the things that I need,
Really, you can't take back the things you said,
The way you felt, the glow of the sun overhead,
Which is now dipping over a crest
I'm dying with you, goodbye light

Goodbye moon, goodbye heart, goodbye you

Worn out places

We know that the hardest part of being human
Is feeling no expression.
The worst type of hurt no longer feels like pain.
Running circles is how we play this game;
crossing over, falling over, rolling over.

If a grave is death, and I'm about one step in
Then save my soul for what this mad world is
A spiral of untrained muscle, sinewed strength, dazzling fear
If we're about to become emotional, impressive, affectionate
Then make it so, because we all know
you don't belong here, you don't belong here.

If we could give ourselves a clandestine opportunity
One that truly gave us immunity from our fears, would we?
Heartbreak, stress, and the ache that you feel when you
Wake up and your pillow is cold and you can't see right
And everything feels so uptight and your eyes are black,
The ceiling is crashing down upon you, and you are
all alone, all alone.

Now do this for me, do it for me now
Take me to the place that I begged for your love
Where everything I said was never enough
Where the rain stopped and yet the tears began
I needed you now like I needed you then
Let's make this last to the very end
always.

If I could just close my eyes

I'd be unaware of the fear
the great divide that seats itself between me and you
the misty fog, rising up out of thin, heated air
the knowledge that flows from my mouth is just that,
hot breath, careless words from a foolish heart looking for love

Because really isn't that what we are all looking for?
The chance to grow up, mature, grow up, come out on top?
Roll with the punches, learn from life's lessons?

Before we can roll out with any more cliches, let us continue
back when we first made out, it was all about when I could see you
when I could feel you, fall into you
we changed.

Now you bring yourself close to me
my hands start to shake, my body feels weak even though I'm pressed
right on top of you with all my weight
i'm about to do something I've been waiting for
try to make this right, make this last all night

Your skin is warm, a glowing heat.
you kiss me close, somewhat passionate, totally mysterious
i know what is next, and my legs slightly quiver as I pull through
we fit, we are together, just us two.
whenever you feel as close as this, hold it, strangle this moment
let your words curl out of your lips with remorse nonexistent

This is all you have left.
And all you have left,
is what was given to you.

The cabin.

The car ride there was remarkably silent.
Her voice caught every time she went to speak. His eyes had glazed over, his mind over matter. Conversation never had a chance to begin. The road passed by with remarkable speed, the dark pine trees reaching into the sky, the dimming light fading, isolating. The world from outside looked menacing and cold, and she shivered slightly. He never took his eyes off the road, but he took off his blazer and handed it to her. His dress pants felt incredibly thin, every hair in his body stood upon end. Dark Canadian winter would do that to the body, chill, freeze, and mutilate, inch by inch, with bitter frostbite. She shivered and wrapped his blazer tight; her eyes were shut, and he just wished he could do the same.

He literally couldn't even focus enough to look at her - it was enough to watch the road, the drifting snow, and the shredded evergreens rushing past them as they drove in silence. They were only a few minutes from reaching the cabin, anyways. He couldn't wait until he could pour himself a drink, or six. His fingers were cold, incredibly so, and he placed his hand down towards the heater on the centre console. After fiddling with the climate control for a few seconds, he turned up the heat. Still nothing. His eyes betrayed a trace of annoyance, and he glanced at her beside him. She was looking away, her eyes closed, near the window pane. If breaking down was this hard, she was going to break him apart, piece by piece. He looked down towards the console again, still no heat was blowing out of the vents; quickly taking his eyes off the road - and that’s when it happened.
She screamed, it pierced the silence of the car. He suddenly looked up and saw a semi-trailer half in his lane, sliding precariously towards his SUV. He did the only thing he could do, avoid it. Ripping the wheel of his Range Rover to the right, he barely missed the rear end of the jackknifed, skidding semi, hurtling the SUV off the road and into a snowy patch of forest deep off the road below. He grabbed the wheel and shouted as the SUV began to gain speed and tumble down the side of what seemed like a ravine; later he would admit he lost count after four complete body rolls. Branches scratched and smashed out windows as they descended, until suddenly, they hit a tree, hard.
He awoke what felt like hours later to the sound of her whispering in his ear. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. They landed luckily right side up on all four wheels. Most of the windows were destroyed and the B pillar of the rear doors had been destroyed from hitting the tree. He felt his bones and unclenched his fingers, so far so good; it was just his head, ringing and a nagging pain. He looked deeply at her, worried about what he'd find. Her lip was slightly bleeding, but she looked great - as always he thought. A little worse for the wear.
"Jordan. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Her voice was quiet, but compassionate, deliberate. Always the same, always there. But not for him.
"I'm fine. Seriously."
She looked at him slightly suspiciously, and he looked down.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, and then he took matters into my own hands.
"Do you have cell reception? Let's see if we can start by calling out."
She reached into her pocket and took out her totally cracked iPhone.
"Can you even dial?"
She attempted too, but then shook her head; the screen was missing chunks of glass and revealed electrical components behind it. He fell back into his torn, leather seat.
He hadn't brought his cellphone along for this trip, because he had left it at the cabin when he visited earlier, preparing it for them, for her...

"Let's head out, make our way to the cabin," he told her.
His voice betrayed less of a statement and more of a question, but it slightly irritated her.
"It's almost dark, we won't be able to find our way in the dark, let alone find a cabin somewhere in the middle of the Canadian shield," she replied, rather tersely.
"I'm not against staying here, Ariana, but if you want to freeze, so be it. We don't have much choice."
She looked at him. Then her face lit up.
"Does your SUV battery still work in here? Turn on the car."
He was confused, but he did as asked.
He attempted to turn over the engine, nothing, but the electronics lit up.
She navigated her way to the onboard navigation and found directions to the cabin.
He took it all in, in amazement. This girl, she was smart, brilliant actually. Her intelligence had always been one of her most attractive aspects, it always made him feel proud that she was his... or had been.
He looked over at her in the fading light. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, casual enough to look gorgeous in her white Doctor's coat, but sexy with just lingerie on. Off track he realized, feeling sick.
"Jordan! Did you hear me?" She was practically yelling at him.
He shook the cobwebs out and replied nicely, "Say that again, sorry. My head hurts."
She looked at him, slight compassion in her dark brown eyes. Nobody could make him feel that way like her, with just a look, withering or loving.
"The cabin is only a mile and a half away; if we stick close to the road and turn at this road here on Millcroft we should be able to make it by dark if we hustle."
He looked at her and asked, "You warm? We've got a walk ahead of us."
He gently gripped her hand, but she released it.

The snow crunched loudly underfoot as they began their walk heading towards the cabin, while yet staying incredibly close to the road above them. The dipping of the sun and the darkening sky painted a picturesque landscape above them, while making it harder for either of them to see. But with a few bruises and a slightly strained knee (he found that out later as they began to walk), walking became a slower affair than they thought. What was made worse was her flats were constantly full of snow - causing her to constantly dump out snow from them every few minutes. Her feet were freezing. While the walk became long and arduous, it fortunately gave both a chance to stick close together and to clear their heads.

She knew how hard it was on him for what she had done.
She was confused.
Cold, afraid of the inevitable. Of commitment. Unsure of their future.
Afraid of their life together.
They had too many issues, too many complications. They had loving families, close relations with each other's parents and siblings, but that's where it ended. She wasn't ready for that next step, she didn't think. Or was she? Why was she so reluctant to accept him, for all his faults?

She forced her feet to keep moving, following the tracing of the highway high above them. He saw her wince as she emptied her shoes, and he had had enough. He offered to carry her, just so she could take a short break from walking.
She refused, but she knew, that even in her tall five nine frame, she fit perfectly in his arms. The summer before, her brother was getting married and they danced together at his wedding until the sun had gone down and was on its way up, laughing and carrying on like they were two innocent kids in love. Her brother's marriage brought a blessing to her life; she truly saw the positives of him, the caring, unconditional acceptance and strong nature of him, and the playful, not-serious persona. Finishing up at med school, the dances at her brother's wedding had given her the opportunity to just relax, let down her guard, and to fully fall for him...

The sun had faded fast, leaving them in near pitch dark conditions. Jordan had brought the flashlight from the SUV and it pierced the darkness ahead of them in a wavering, unsteady motion. Patches of snow disguised logs tripping them up, and she looked down at what she assumed were legs scratched to the bone, and wished slightly she had accepted his offer to carry her. The sky began to slowly illuminate with stars as they neared down the road where the cabin was situated on. He checked his watch; it had only been just under an hour of walking. She looked worn out he thought, but she was stubborn. He was used to that.

"I've never felt so cold, and yet so Canadian at the same time," he said, laughing.
She couldn't help but smile, as she realized this inadvertent outdoor hike in the Canadian Shield, while being the last on her list of TO-DO in life, had brought her closer with Mother Nature. The creaking of branches and the howl of a distant coyote seemed almost cliché to her as they walked, but it gave her a small shiver.
Think positive thoughts she told herself.
They neared the small drive of the cabin and at last reached the door.
Even in the dark, the idyllic cabin was beautiful. Entirely wood constructed, and made years ago, vintage logs matched snow trails all across the roof, the veranda, and the small front porch. She sighed loudly.

He didn't say anything as they stepped inside. He didn't need too really.
She flicked on a light, as dim overhead bulbs lit up the interior of the kitchen and the living room. Tens of pure white candles and hundreds of dark red rose pedals lay all over the floor in a perfect path to the master bedroom. The air smelled musty, but something smelled better than that, sweet adoration.
He looked away and headed to the kitchen.
She took off her shoes and looked around in amazement. Even from the wooden rafters in the ceiling, a new chandelier had been put in - sparkling white, something she had always wanted in her future house she had told him. He had laughed when she told him, but later that week he ordered one, the type she wanted, from Germany, and had it installed in preparation for her.
She slowly began to walk into the family room, where he had begun already to build a fire.
She saw a bottle of premium champagne already opened, on the hard, wooden table.
She took long swallow and sat in front of the fire.
He sat down at the table after a few minutes of stoking the fire and continued to drink.

They looked away and then made eye contact.
"I'm sorry," he said first. "I didn't know it would be like this." He looked wistfully at her, almost sadly, she thought.
"It's okay," she whispered.
He got up, suddenly and leaned over the kitchen sink, looking out through snowy windows. She saw the hurt in him, the pain. He stood there for several minutes, before she came up from behind and began to embrace him. He felt her hands wrap around his chest and her gorgeous hair fall over the back of his neck.
She let herself go, she let herself go.
All of these issues, these insecurities he had, he was worth it. The games with other girls, the parts of him that she wanted to change, she let it go. He was hers, and she was his.
She wasn't perfect herself, was she? She didn't have everything in her life all figured out, did she? He put up with all of her issues, didn't he? Why was she afraid to commit?
The fire crackled in the background and the wind lightly howled against the log walls. The creaking of the cabin was the only sound in the room, other than the beating of her heart.
She kissed the back of his neck gently.
He turned around and looked into her eyes, then kissed her deep, hard, now.
She reached up and started to unbutton his dress shirt, pulling it off furiously. He grabbed her waist and pulled up her dress, his aggressive nature taking over.
They knew they worked together. It wasn't about being trapped in a cabin, or surviving a car crash.
This was about them. All the rushing thoughts of her walking away when he proposed, the consternation and confusion when she broke his heart, left him, for this very instance.
They weren't perfect, and never would be. But they needed that one chance to realize how perfect they were together.

Suddenly, loud knocks came at the door.

Part II will come down sometime soon!

You're crazy, I'm crazy for you

Sometimes putting things on paper makes things easier to feel.
And isn't that what we are, living breathing forums of feelings?

I love European music.
You're crazy for the most local indie underground bands
I'm all about Edward Maya, Dash Berlin, and a State of Trance
You're singing the latest rounds on a greasy bar stage
a crowded room, a loud table at the back
drifting smoke wafting through the air,
intoxicating, in your veins, choking you up
if it's not despair, it's just you reaching out
for what you want, someone to hold you close, tell you
it's going to be alright
Why keep running, leaving a trail of mistakes behind
night after night?

We, we were lost
This, walk of pain
I miss you so much, now I call again

So different in so many ways
you're into plays and honestly you couldn't care less
about fashion, sports, or the latest cars
we're so different, but we have one thing in common
a mutual agreement, from a thousand different arguments
we can't fight us anymore
I don't mind you under my skin, I don't find it irritating

Europe 2011