There are two random photos in this set, the first of which is of the light decal I keep on my rear view mirror. My friend Margot recently gave it to me as a holiday gift, she had bought it years ago in Halifax and recently remembered to send it my way. It’s great, now everyone knows a homo is driving my little truck. Or at the very least some one with an affinity for rainbows.

You’ll notice  the other is a picture of the cheese fries & blue cheese burger I had at Fuddrucker’s afterward. My friend Annie and I had a date night, which included a supper, a stop at the local bookstore and a film. We saw “Iron Lady” which is basically about Margaret Thatcher as a crazy senior citizen. It had a couple of moments, but barely worth the watch. If it wasn’t for a few scenes involving bombings, we probably would have both fell asleep.

This track was my snowshoe jam:

“What does that mean?”

“It means…it’s pretty rough out there”

I’ve since done some research and according to the academics it means: “it is a sad situation.”

This morning when we spoke on the phone, he told me it meant: “everybody is poor.”

My interpretation: this is shit. That interpretation was very fitting the next time I fell off my bike. I was 24, drunk and cycling home from the gay bar in Saskatoon. Dressed in apparently homosexual attire which consisted of short shorts, a see through muscle tank & flip-flops. I also happened to be riding this bike:

I most likely would have rode home safely if some stupid fuck didn’t honk, swerve & yell: FUCKING FAGGOT. I’m now no longer afraid of that word and choose to wear it like armor. So much so I had a friend tattoo it on my foot. I now enjoy being called it (not). My retorts usually go something like this:

“Indeed I am, are you? That’s some damn good gaydar.”

“Takes one to know one!”

I could go on but I won’t. I  got home and drunkenly woke up my sister to talk shit about homophobes. It was the first time my sister Dusty had seen me cry in years. I’m normally such a jerk, she was surprised to see me display those human emotions and not just the robot-asshole emotions I normally display.

Going back to CREE… I really wish I could speak it. It’s a dying language, although there are people out there dedicating their time, energy and knowledge into a Cree resurgence. One such person is one of my mom’s best friends from university. She lives up in northern Saskatchewan in a community called Cumberland House. Cumberland House is a Métis community and the site of my baptism! That would be neat if I was still foolishly following Roman Catholicism. My mom’s friend is also a fellow educator, they completed their B.Eds together. This woman is now taking well-known children songs, think: “Three Blind Mice,” “Itsy bitsy spider” and switching the words to Cree and changing the story to more relevant tales from elders and such. It’s a fascinatingly simple and effective method of teaching the kids.

One day, hopefully, I will have a larger Cree lexicon. For the time being I will stick to calling my dad when I’m stuck and this iPhone app:

This is so great, I bet this man is a passionate lover. I know so many silly Christians and I’m sure they know so many silly queers….yeah right!

Sitting unused for years Christie & Kyle the head chefs and masterminds behinds The Hollows have done a great job of seeing their vision come to fruition. The pair have gone to great lengths to make this place their own, re-used cutlery, unique tea cups & pots, tables & chairs from habitat for humanity re-store, etc. all come together to make a quaint little spot. It’s helps that we’ve started relationships with the farmers market, many other local suppliers, horticulturists & members of the community at large. The menu is diverse and changes with the season, the current is on the website. I’m currently devouring an open-faced steel-head trout sandwich, with everything amazing on top and of course nature’s butter – the avocado.

The staff seems to all embody a chill demeanor**, willing to give attentive, friendly service to any and all who walk through our doors.

I sound like a fucking advertisement, but all I really want to talk about is where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing over the past month and a half. On that note – I’m definitely having my going away party here. If you read this and want to come, you are invited. And if you are wondering where in the world Carmen Sandeigo  is going this time, well, that would be to Iloilo City in the Philippines. I’m headed there for 5 months (in a mere 20 days time) with an internship hosted by the Canadian Urban Institute and funded by the Canadian International Development Agency. I should mention I chose this internship over others I received in the past few months as it make sense for myself in more ways than one.

Dylan Rose is going to be a Sustainable Tourism Development Intern, even that title sounds contradictory. Especially after devouring this book:

I’m also seriously off my game as I’m trying to be in a “non-relationship” with a “non-gay person” which is completely fucked up and confusing.

*”What the fuck is brunch?”  is definitely the question I asked myself before the start of that shift. Apparently, it is just breakfast & lunch mashed into a shit show of large tables, demanding non-church goers & mimosa’s. It is quite possibly the best ever. The younger, normally hung over  (or perhaps that is just me) crowd are fun to serve on the weekends. We have high-quality casual dinners, produce a mean lunch and all with a focus on local, more sustainable foods & initiatives. I’m talking about things like compost within the restaurant, which Christie seems to be extremely proud of and for good reason

** The staff have to be chill. We have a Salvation Army across the street and we have opened in an area formerly notorious for crime. We also sometimes play the radio which often let’s us know they are looking for an “Aboriginal man/woman 5’10″, 150lbs” it’s trying as that could by myself or my sister and we both work here. Yes, I’ve hired her and yes, nepotism rules the world. It has to, if non-Aboriginal people keep using idiot descriptors like that, how else are we suppose to get hired? They are showcasing us as criminals & not the champions I’m seeing more and more of every day.

- shout out to my boss Christie Peters for the use of her photo.

We were in Walvis Bay & also visiting the town of Swakopmund. It would later gain notoriety as a place where a celebrity would bring some children into the world.

The white guy in the middle of this photo had said “You’re a real Indian?!” And then did a mouth to hand “ow ow wow” war cry.

I started to laugh. “Uhh you’re a real African?”

White Africans - Sailor Students

Our Sailing School had just been to South Africa.

Snaps:

First night - First Cigar

Table Mountain, Cape Town.

Gang signs?

Boer(farmer) War Site. Around Drakensville, SA

Cape of Good Hope, meditate.

Just back from a party at the Castle of Good Hope. Cape Town, SA

For some reason the apartheid countries intrigue me in how twisted they are.

I recently got an internship working with the Canadian International Development Agency in Partnership with the Canadian Institute of Planners, I’ll be working with the Ministry of Amerindian Affairs in Guyana, South America. Odd since I feel like Aboriginal and Northern Development, formerly Indian and Northern Affairs Canada doesn’t do their job to the best of their ability and I’ve grown up as a status Indian. That might not make sense to non-status people, but I feel a little bit conflicted about where I am going and what I am going to do. It’s jumping into a foreign country’s race driven politics and community planning process head-on.

Job will include developing community capacity building initiatives in Amerindian villages. Small and large projects, such as computer literacy training. The idea is that we offer citizens the ability to gain knowledge and technical skill, essentially so within villages and rural sites, community planning initiatives can take on more citizen engagement and participation from locals in all aspects of the process.

This is a sister site to the work I will be doing: http://canguyplanningproject.org/

Those who legislate their “apartness.” Is it not interesting the title and tie to De Beers? <–A company started by a white south african. Just saying. Haha.

The biggest trip for me is the South African minority government, under the leadership of P.W. Botha bringing four leaders from my Cree Nation, Red Pheasant(where I am registered) to their country under apartheid (probably special dignitary status, letting them do what people of the same colour of skin living in that country were legally not able to do read:fucked). The leaders were brought over to legitimize the government’s “homeland” policy, basing what they were doing was justified as the Aboriginal people of Canada were seeking self-determination on their reserves. My cousin KD has told me her uncle was one of them and that he basically saw it just as a “big trip.”

HAHA WHAT THE FUCK?

SO,

I recently finished applying to LAW SCHOOl in Scotland. I’m now working on multiple international scholarship applications as I would like to write my honours dissertation on issues surrounding the legal parallels & connections between Canada & South Africa. Luckily Aberdeen has an agreement with the University of Stellenbosch so I can study in a country with a constitution unparalleled in the world, whose former apartness policy, mirrors our own Indian act – apparently. Oh and I’m a Scottish Rose, right? That’s why I want to study in a country where some of my blood lines have come from.

Funny, I drafted this two days ago and here I am chuckling as a University of Saskatchewan Prof is speaking about South African apartheid & Canada’s Indian policy Tuesday night at the downtown Saskatoon public library. She’s originally from South Africa and is currently teaching in the U of S department of history.

Cannot wait.

*can I call them that if they spoke the language but didn’t necessarily align with Afrikaner nationalism?

Another has been added to this list. The inspiration came from a recently bookmarked blog by a young, graphic designer from Ann Arbor, MI. Her name: Amanda Jane Jones. Amanda’s partner, Cree Jones, solidified what I would name my first-born. I should note that I don’t plan to have kids. I may adopt in my later 30s if I’m in stable relationship and financially sound. Hopefully by then I will embody a strong desire and willingness to share my good fortune in life with another. More than likely an unfortunate Aboriginal child.

ie adoption over insemination

Since honesty is the best policy, I will tell you this day is far, far away. Hedonism is currently taking precedence.

A few examples of the talent and skill she uses to share her life experience with family & friends.

Cree’s 30th

The dopest seasonal update in existence.

I just realized if I do adopt, the child might already have a name. Meh.

“Grandma wear your jeans on the inside of your boots, it will look rad.”

“Really? Okay.”

“Yup!”

Proof:

And although her jeans are covering, my sister also had some nice boots.

I wore Sorel.

Mom snapped a shot of us.

Ending our excursion, I put my recent library treasures together, snapped a photo and then began to devour them.

GOOD PAL, GOOD ART

Trying to find out where I come from.

down tempo sophisticated electronic playing softy in the surround

Easy, since when do my parents message me on the same day? That day, apparently.

Two Spirit Tattoo aka 1 of my two Queer tattoos.

Brosef wandmaking with my niece Miss Mae in the early British Columbia AM.