Stupid Cornwallis...stupid english...
Reading through Daniel Paul's book, We Were Not The Savages, and being infuriated by what a bastard Edward Cornwallis was. Added bonus, before coming over here to commit genocide he practiced his skills in Scotland, thus managing to piss off both sides of my ancestry. Interesting trivia learned via Wikipedia: Cornwallis was a twin. Based on the description of his brother as genial and sociable but lacking in zeal, Edward must have been the evil twin. I knew that researching my ancestry was going to make me angry. I seem to spend a lot of time lately wandering about the house muttering "Fucking Cornwallis....fucking English." I've also figured out what I'd do if I could travel through time - I'd bring some Glock 17s and some AK-47s to Halifax and kill everyone in a red coat. I'm not angry at the present English. So if you're a friend of mine of English descent you don't need to fear that I'll attempt some kind of retroactive punishment.
Tonight I'm going to a 2-spirited group at the Native Canadian Centre on Spadina Rd. I'm hoping that the group will be a nice way to make some native friends and segue into native culture. Afterwards I'm heading to a birthday party that misslynx is throwing for for lgbtech.
Early this morning things seemed to be going directly to hell in a handbag. I couldn't find two important pieces of paper having to do with my student loans (still haven't found them) although the search did uncover something I was supposed to have sent my mom as part of my tax info for 2009. Also, my hair wouldn't go right and I didn't have enough time to work on my paper. But since I'm a grown up and can eat candy for supper if I want I'm not going to let this kind of thing bother me. Instead, I'm going to feel good and happy.