But, still three days of work before I can do all of that. And work is irritating. Everything is slow and I keep on running into roadblocks in all of my projects. I try to remember that I don't even like this job, but I still want to accomplish something. I'd like to have what I do for the majority of my weekdays go somewhere, even if in the end I don't consider my work to be fulfilling satisfying. And my carpool, which used to be both fun and very convenient, is now irritating due to the driver. We went to my coworker Karine's birthday party and he got slurringly drunk. He kept on grabbing my arm and knee quite hard, and at one point he, I imagine, went to emphasize whatever crap he was slurring on about by grabbing my arm, but grabbed my breast instead. Hard enough to make me yelp. And then was offended because I embarrassed him when I said, somewhat loudly, That's my boob! and everyone at the party heard. His reaction, I realized, was one of the first genuine things I had ever heard/witnessed from him. And that fact made my skin crawl. The next night was a party that I didn't go to, as the Russian was in town and Art was going to attend, and they both swore there would be a fight if they were in the same room. Hard to imagine that...
Anyway, he waylaid my friend, again completely drunk, and showed her text messages that I had sent him in reply to his about carpool and the party the previous evening: No, I am here already. Carpool tmmrw? And was convinced that I must like him. I know these two events seem minor and silly, but they offered me a glimpse of an aspect of this guy that I find repulsive. He is disingenuous. A quality I really don't like, but which I dislike even more when it comes from a desire to be liked, not by someone he genuinely finds interesting, but my anyone and everyone. I am not sure why that bugs me so much. So he was just this person operating somewhere in my orbit but once I realized he would say anything, even have an argument with me, to be what he thinks I want him to be, all interactions took on a tone of insincerity. I hate insincerity. Maybe I am being too hard and have closed my peripheral vision on him so that all I see is this weakness, but it has soured me! But carpool is essential for the winter months, so I just have to get along with him.
That was a long bit about something not that interesting. Although the grabbiness was icky. It quickly brought to mind other times when I have been in situations that I would much rather not have been in, that left me feeling dirty and a little ashamed (much how the women accusing the wikileaks guy must feel, if the article I read today can be believed). This has been on my mind a lot these days, since I am getting involved with a group called POWER (Prostitutes of Ottawa-Gatineau Work Educate and Resist). I found them originally through contact with a similar organization in Montreal, Stella, and they just published a thorough and moving report on sex work in Ottawa. I will post a link to it when the website is back up. They are a rights group, and don't offer any services to sex workers. One day, maybe I will be able to be able to make my living filling that gap.
Anyway, sex work, violence, sex, consent, stigma have all been on my mind for the past little while. At my work Christmas party I was sitting next to a man I know slightly and after telling him that I was planning on going to the vigil at the Human Rights Memorial to mark the International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers (Dec 17) we got into a discussion about sex work. I told him I had been a cam girl, but mostly we talked about stigmatization. This was something that came up throughout the POWER report as well, that sex work becomes the worker's identity, not their job. They are defined by it, and any heated discussion about it becomes a defense of who you are, not what you do. I remember feeling like that, and how exhausting it was. Because sex work is already something, whether you choose it or not, that requires introspection- how do I feel about my body, am I respecting myself, am I being taken advantage of, how does my sexuality relate to my identity... I think this is because it is something that is not socially acceptable. So to never be able to have a break from defending your choices unless you avoid telling people about your job or outright lie about it seems to me to need a strength that I don't know if I have, in any case.
Of course, there is a difference between middle class me choosing to do cam work, and working on the street, for drugs, getting harassed by police, but the report actually makes clear that what POWER calls whorephobia does exist in every line of sex work, and that it profoundly affects all the workers the authors interviewed.
I think Jon had never thought about sex work, and that his initial position was somewhat neutral...that perhaps the laws that make sex work difficult should be changed for the safety of the worker (which is true, but it isn't only about safety; working in a coal mine is hazardous too, but miners don't have laws that violate their human rights written into the Criminal Code). So I wasn't arguing against a moral stance. That is a lot harder to reconcile. The idea that sexuality can be sold like anything else is repulsive to some people, and I think maybe primarily women, but I don't know. I don't know why I have never felt that repulsion. And that brings us back to the introspection.
In any case, I am glad that I am exploring this, because it is something that I feel really strongly about. Although I am uncomfortable with the idea of being an 'activist' and I did feel idiotic holding my candle in the cold, surrounded by people who feel exactly the same way as I do about sex work. But perhaps that is where strength comes from. I also feel like a little cam work doesn't really give me too much insight. But maybe it is enough.
In other news, the Russian has been in serious wooing mode. He came to Ottawa last week, ostensibly to bring me my Christmas present (a very beautiful, but not very functional teapot). I have put both him, and Art, on ice for the time being (though of course I sleep with the Russian whenever we are geographically close enough to do so...) The truth is, though, that I love him. It just isn't enough. Though, if he quits his job and takes the job he is interviewing for in Ottawa, and does that with no guarantee from me, that is convincing...
It is so odd that I sought out someone who has no idea how to want what he wants and feel like he deserves to have it, as compared to the Russian who is just learning how to balance what he wants with what I want and need. Art says that it is just so much easier to give his wife what she wants, that if she doesn't care or care enough that he doesn't actually love her, that she loves him enough for the two of them, then maybe he owes it to her to stay and try some more. When I asked if he wanted to be with someone he didn't love, he said no. And I said, doesn't that count for anything? His response was that he didn't know, maybe not. My reaction to this revelation of his character was to turn into an armadillo and enjoy our conversations.
Okay, one more thing: I love these dioramas. I wish I could see them to get a sense of their scale.
Oh, and what is it about being in love that makes me want to almost ingest the object of my affection. I have been thinking about this all week because the Russian has been sending me adorable animal photos. This might be the least adorable, but still my favourite:
and I love this image too:
Okay, I am done for reals now.
