I’ve reached middle age. It’s neat to have this on my blog, where I documented turning 21, turning 30, and now 40.
At the start of my thirties, I was living with four lovely roommates while working in tech and lobbying for trans rights in Parliament. I didn’t know it yet, but I was also incredibly insecure, felt stunted by my fear of the unknown, and employed toxic communication patterns to soothe difficult feelings.
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Last week, I attended a screening of two short films by queer Algonquin College film school graduates. One of the movies was set in the nineties, a time before this director was born.
When she was asked about the choice of period, she mentioned how she liked the tactility of that pre-smartphone era. On another occasion, a gen alpha family member expressed a desire to own a boombox. It’s a thing for that generation to place a bit of an aura on the nineties.
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Took a day trip to Montreal last weekend. Despite going to this city every year or so for events or people, it had been a generation since I had acted the tourist.
It helped that I got to hang out with a pal and go for a 20km walk. I also finally tried both classic Montreal bagel spots: St-Viateur and Fairmont.
One thing that stood out on this trip is how the downtown appears to have started to build big again. The construction of high rises in the city seemed to stagnate after 1970, coinciding with the exile of businesses to Toronto.
While the arts thrived, it seemed dependent on assets from long-gone wealth. I’m glad things are changing.
The public’s support for same-sex marriage in Canada, according to a 2024 Ipsos poll, is at 65%. This is down from 75% three years earlier. Twenty years ago, marriage was the proxy issue for whether gay people had a place in society.
Today, trans people are in the crosshairs and the proxy issues include access to puberty blockers and athletics. In the UK, add to that washroom access. In the US, well, everything.
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This past week, I flew to Whitehorse, rented a car, and began a five-day Yukon road trip. This was in lieu of the NYC trip I cancelled.
This was one of my favourite adventures.
I arrived in Whitehorse on Sunday evening, flying in from Ottawa via Vancouver. As I flew over Kitwanga, I was now the furthest north I’d ever been in Canada.
As I disembarked my vehicle at the hotel, I shouted “hey Fae!” – it was my neighbour and pal from Ottawa walking along the sidewalk. They happened to be in the city at the same time for work, and we had scheduled dinner together. She was leaving the next day.
After dinner I stayed up late, so that I could see the midnight sun. I’d never been in a place without a night before.
