City boy in the country

Being a city boy at heart, I don’t feel particularly comfortable in a country setting. Maybe it’s nature (allergies), silence (reminds me of death) or the lack of action (cow tipping being the anomaly) that act as a deterrents. Still, I’ve never really felt at home when away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Now, I have been to “the cottage” before. It was pleasant and it helped that I did have people around me. But, it didn’t feel like me. True, it was fun, but it was fun in a boozy kind of way; too blitzed out to fully realize you could only enjoy yourself in that environment if drunk off your ass.

A few weekends ago, my friend A asked what I was doing for the weekend. Since I usually plan weekends with only a few days notice, I said I wasn't doing anything. Since he wasn’t working that weekend, he asked if I wanted to visit him in the country. For someone who desperately needed a well-deserved break, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

After picking me up and driving about an hour, or so, we arrived at his family’s farm in the country (even if it was more tricked out than my place downtown). There were large expanses of grass, fields, chirpings of birds, clear skies and the occasional house here and there. It was what I needed.

Although he did laugh a few times when I pulled out the camera (to take photos of a barn and silo) and ask a few questions about agriculture, there was nothing comical about my adventures. I was there as a guest and I was relaxing. I didn’t think of my phone (calling, texting) or computer (emails, work to do) for the weekend. I didn’t care.

And, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Even city boys need a break from the city life. Of course, I’d have to be invited since I don’t crash people’s farms on a regular basis.

It's easier to blame the victim

About a month ago I wrote a post about being called a fag and how disparaging it was for me to get such a nasty and derogatory comment from someone I was being nice to. Of course, not everyone saw it my way.

Instead of being portrayed as a victim, some people thought I should've been blamed because I provoked this other person. Even though I don't particularly care what faceless commenters write, it still struck a nerve.

The tone of some comments were along the lines of "Someone called you a faggot? Of course you deserve to be called one. It was totally your fault, like everything else."

What I found amusing/bothersome was people blaming me for what someone else did. I was a friendly bystander in the situation and yet, I still got the brunt of the backlash. This is twisted logic.

Someone called you a faggot when they're one, too (and a stereotypical fag, to boot) even when they claim to be "masculine." Yet, this someone didn't have the balls to pick up the phone when I called them because they don't want any sort of confrontation since they're pussies. Ironic?

You know what? Whatever. If it happens to someone else (or a reader of this journal), I won't blame them. Why? It's not their fault. It's mine.