Thursday, March 31, 2005

Age Old Debate

Why do men leave the seat up??

Why don't women look and see if the seat is down??

The age old battle continues.

Wanna know why? As someone who argued both sides of this argument, here is my theory. It is based in....get this....advertising.

Yes, advertising. If you look in the stalls of mens restrooms and womens restrooms you will notice a fundamental difference (other than some obvious sanitary differences). When advertisers want to have their stuff read while you are doing your business they place things differently. In the mens they place their copy over the toilet. In women's they place it on the back of the door?

Why? The most common reason people are in the stalls is to urinate. Men face the toilet, women sit (or hover) and face the door.

Get it? Men go in, unzip, and let loose while facing the seat in question. A woman, however, goes in, TURNS AROUND, goes through whatever is necessary to undress to the state necessary, and sits. Men stare at the seat and think 'Hey, it's pretty obvious' and women only get a fleeting glance on the way to their contortions. We think 'This is the toilet in my home, it should be in the state where I left it.'

Keep in mind that NO ONE REALLY WANTS TO TOUCH THE SEAT.

Anyway, that's my basic theory on the mindset.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Compensating

Last year for my birthday, my brother bought me some DVD's....

Chick Flicks.

Now, I enjoy a good chick flick - within reason. I do get tired of the Lifetime Movie of the
Week, though. You know the one - Mary Lou is distant from her family, her marriage on
the rocks, her children confused and lashing out at school. The only person she can count
on is the woman who has been her best friend from the age of four, Lela Marie, who
doesn't understand why the woman with a heart of gold....

The gist is (normally), Mary Lou is dying of the disease of the month. She suffers, bonds,
makes amends, and dies. Her memory is carried on by the women who knew her best.

I digress (a skill I am proud of?).

When I first transitioned, I think people expected me to show up to work in taffeta.
You know the stereotype - uber-girly. I'd be sipping tea with my pinky in the air or
something.

I didn't. I normally wear slacks to work and I wear jeans much of the rest of the time.
I wear skirts once in a while. I can still fix a toilet, rewire lighting, and I know what
most of the parts of my car are.

But then I ask myself, why don't I go in for the more femme side of things?

Fear. I don't want to be 'The Dude in a Dress'.

I'm getting over it.

Wheras before I transitioned I participated in activites that would be considered
over-compensation, I was now almost hiding from myself. Without drastic bad
taste, I don't think I can be perceived as a 'Dude in a Dress'.

You still won't see me in taffetta any time soon.

Monday, March 28, 2005

Sirred on the phone - see their side

People go through a lot of angst about being gendered on the phone.

How many have literally (not figuratively) jumped down someones throat because they said 'Thank you, sir.'

It's easy to do. Some of it may be vindictive and mean but much of it isn't.

Imagine yourself as a telemarketer. You have a list of people to call and you fight rejection and hostility with each one.

"Hello. May I speak to Aj Gregpahkklin."

"Hello. May I speak to Joe Jones."

"Hello. May I speakto Pat Patterson."

Rejection each time. You fall into a mantra for each one, like verbal mail-merge document.

They get to you.

"Hello. May I speak with An Barlow?"

This is she. (Your voice is a bit low that day. The marketer is excited because you are the first call in an hour that hasn't threatened her childrens lives. All she has to go on is your voice and name. They have gendered you in their mind now. You have a hole to dig out of.)

"GoodafternoonsirIwascallingtoprovideyouwithawonderfulopportunitytocleanyour
carpetsandincludedinthisofferisacomplementarycatdunkingdoesn'tthatsound
wonderfuljustkiddingaboutthecathahaha(breathe)..."

It's Ma'am.

"Sorryaboutthatsirwehaveyouscheduledfornextthursdayat3amwillthatworkforyo..."

Stop calling me SIR!

Now, the average person would have hung up by now. But you get hung up on one work. You have brought attention to the error and therefore brought yourself under further scrutiny.

There is no winning in this situation. Your best bet is to have a really good phone answering phrase so you are correctly gendered right away.

Also, don't get sucked into an argument with someone you don't even want to talk to anyway.

Piddly little.....

I am tense about something. I don't know what. I just have this general feeling of unease.

It is really d&*m annoying.

My life is pretty good. I don't have much I could complain about.

My monologue went great - I am really enjoying this acting thing.

For once, my finances are not dire.

I think I have a kidney infection.

My car is running fine.

I do NOT have a boyfriend at the moment.

My room still is a mess.

I've gained an inexplicable 20 pounds in the last 4 months. Strangely enough, most of my clothes still fit.

I still have some of the coolest friends in the world.

Still there is something nagging me. (Did I leave the oven on?)

More later

Friday, March 25, 2005

Confessions

"Hi, my name is Anne..."

"HI ANNE."

"and I am a......geek."

(stunned silence)

"No, I don't bite the heads off live chickens. I don't attend Star Trek conventions in full Trekkie (Trekker?) regalia (or at all)."

(audience shows signs of hopefulness)

"I have never watched Babylon 5."

(stunned silence from the original statement is abating)

"However....I like technology but not for its own sake. I like watching the ways it brings people together and not how it isolates them. I like interactive entertainment. I thrive when people express their creative spirit. Technology is part of life but IT IS NOT LIFE ITSELF."

(The apparently hard core audience begin rummaging through their Comdex SWAG emblazoned bags in search of torches. I am relieved that all of the lighters were confiscated by the government)

"Tech is addictive. It is blatant but also insidious. Sometimes it is just time to TURN THE DAMN STUFF OFF."

(A resourceful audience member is trying to create fire from the chemical compounds derived from some poor woman's purse. Apparently the blue dye from a pack of playing cards contains a small level of iodine. A little lipstick, an Altoid, and ammonia from somewhere (God knows and I WILL NOT ASK). I could be in trouble.)

"Remember that each of our lives touch others. That INTERACTION is what makes life grow. LIVE your lives. BE with people."

(A puff of blue smoke emits from the Chemical Experiment. There is a cheer. Luckily the torches have all been taken off to the other side of the room for a lightsaber battle complete with vocal sound effect. I have a moment.)

"Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. Congratulations to Stacy and Mike on their new daughter T'Pau. Ooh, you actually got that lit! T'Pau will of course be spoiled by her Aunt Anne and this is still the strangest family reunion that I have EVER heard of. "

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Braveheart

bravery


n 1: a quality of spirit that enables you to face danger of pain without
showing fear [syn: courage, courageousness] [ant: cowardice] 2: feeling no fear [syn: fearlessness] [ant: fear]


Is it brave to transition? I suppose it depends on your personal definition of pain.

pain = Lifetime of being forced into a mold that you don't fit into.

pain = Physical deterrant. Nerve stimulus often resulting from injury.

pain = Emotional distress.

Do we risk physical pain? Yes, we do. There is always the possibility of someone figuring out our 'function' and motivating us to rethink it. Or, worse, trying to erase us from existence.

Do we risk emotional pain? Sure. We run the risk of rejection by everyone we know and everyone we may come to know.

I can never think of transition as brave. I did not see a viable option. Bravery for some is to NOT transition - to maintain the statis quo. At least you know where you stand if you don't transition, right?

Except that many would actually be dead.

I wasn't strong enough not to transition. I was weak. I hurt people...well...ONE person.

I was lucky. I didn't lose much.

I'm ready for my close up Mr. DeMi....NOT THAT CLOSE!

I just realized that I haven't written anything about drama for a couple weeks. Maybe I should.

We are finishing up our monologues now. Mine is going pretty well (I think). I mean, of course it could be a ton better, I still feel like I am overacting a bit. Overacting? Does that mean I am expressing myself a little too vigorously? Which....was....kind....of....my....goal.

Sigh.

So, maybe I am getting something out of this after all.

I am making friends in the class. It's quite the age range involved but we are having some fun together. After the performance of the monologues this week, we start up our scenes.

So far I seem to be accomplishing my goals for the class.

Next class??? Belly dancing. (eep)

Monday, March 21, 2005

Sociology - Averages

Believe it or not, many social norms are not instinctual. Biology can motivate behaviors in one way or another (testosterone is kinda powerful) but quite a bit of social interaction is learned.

How do we learn to speak? Infants make every vocal configuration known - they are a blank slate for language. People speak to children, even though they don't understand what you are saying "They understand the tone." Sheer repetition and reinforcement of sounds that sound most like the parents language bore into the childs mind. At some point there is a mental 'click' and the child starts to make associations with sounds and the environment.

As the child ages, good communication is rewarded and the childs communication skills get better and better. They learn what not to say (soap anyone?).

Language is absorbed through society. If you want your child to always speak as a 2 year old, don't let them hear or communicate with anyone older. Communication is a compromise between the participants. It averages.

Accents don't come from geography. They come from people. If everyone around speaks a certain way then you start picking it up.

"I don't talk funny. Y'all do."

Once again, the standard question.....

Is this going anywhere?

Sure, why not?

Girls and Boys socialize within their groups. Their behaviors within these groups influence and reinforce one another. As a transitioner, you miss quite a bit of that.

Flashback to the last post - voice.

The way we phrase things. The accent of speaking like the other girls is something that is difficult. You know the easy way to overcome it?

Be social.

Don't hang out in clumps of transsexuals exclusively.

Just be part of a tribe. You don't even have to be that active. Be the quiet one.

Live your life.

Things will rub off - promise. When you don't have to pretend you are someone you are not - the whole social aspect gets easier.

Friday, March 18, 2005

Perspective

Sarah Lane found a way to recapture perspective.

Sometimes you have to take a step back and reset.

It is almost zen....

Voice (Timbre)

Voice.

The word made me shudder at one point. Would I ever be able to alter my bass voice into something usable?

Lucky me, my voice was the first to change in my class. Because of that I was brought into the older choirs in Junior High. I learned to sing.

I did impersonations.

When I finally brought my transition into social situations I didn't know what to do. I put myself into what I would call 'throw away' positions. These are places where I did not feel any danger if I were outed and if I screwed up bad enough - I could walk away. No harm done.

Video 1

I had Melanie Speaks. The video tape that really started it all. I paid my money and received a poorly copied video cassette with priceless knowledge. Melanie went through a series of anecdotal exercises (cartoon voice!). They looked like they would be helpful.

It didn't really work.

Lesson

I went to a local voice therapist and went to an intro lesson. It was the same as a normal one just cost 1.5X and lasted 1.5X the standard one. I got some good information. She gave me exercises. She sent me on my way.

It didn't really work but I was starting to see a pattern.

Video 2

Deep Stealth put out a DVD/CD set. I expected it to be like Melanies. In many ways it was but for some reason things started to fall into place. Andrea gave very structured exercises and I found that her way was good for analyzing the components of voice.

The lightbulb was dimly glowing.

All this time I was still engaging in 'throw away' social situations.

My trick to timbre.

Timbre is the fingerprint of voice. It is what tells us the difference between a trumpet and a clarinet. It is also very very hard to work on. But timbre is not all one piece, there are components. For me, I like to call them buzz, tone, and breath.

Buzz - make the sound of a radio controlled airplane. This is the force, the penetrative force of the voice. Without buzz, it may sound good, but it doesn't go anywhere.

Tone - Sine wave. Pure sound, like the old end of day broadcasts after the national anthem and before static. Sounds fake. Falsetto is almost pure tone.

Breath - The edge to the voice. Almost pure breath is a whisper and the lack is pure tone.

Timbre is the balance of all three. So I learned to balance them two at a time.

Breath/Tone - without buzz you get what I call the 'phone sex voice'

Buzz/Tone - think of a 50's stereotype robotic voice. The voice of the computer in Wargames.

Breath/Buzz - probably the hardest of all. They are almost contrary. Practice with pure breath and pure buzz and try to average them.

Practice discerning between these ranges. Remember to record yourself. Your voice sounds different in your head than it does to others. This is a time for caricature. Play with the sounds. Have fun! Record your falsetto then try to add breath to it.

Learn the components of timbre. Learn how to control them. Don't stress your voice but instead, stretch it.

Adding some....stuff

I am in the midst of figuring out this blog, and how to format it the way I want. I s'pose if I became really motivated I would actually get a site (hint: I'm not that motivated).

Anyway, I've added some links.

Alice - Wow, she is transitioning in SCHOOL. I can totally respect that. Plus, she's really cool.
Amy - Insight. Humor. Jedi Mind Tricks. Who could ask for more?
Gwen - Despite an apparent fascination with Disneyland, Gwen is a cornerstone for our community.
Claire - Her site is down at the moment. She sounds fun. Plus, I think she is a model.
Sianna - Artist. Poet. Involved. This girl is truly living her life.

I'll add more soon.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

A Passive-Agressive Challenge

Do people really know anything? Unless someone followed you around since birth, taking notes at every turn, they really don't. People analyze clues and then make educated assumtions. For once, I'll keep this transition related. Think of transition as a scale


On one side you have all the male clues and on the other, female. Some things weigh more heavily than others (voice).

Voice
Shoulders
Height
Face
Body
Demeanor
HISTORY

None of these clues is exclusive to either male or female. Some Natal Females can fall well into the male side of the scale. So, your average person weighs all these things in an instant and comes up with their evaluation. This creates the point you will be judged against for the remainder of the relationship. Slowly, you can tip the scale the way you want but it doesn't move easily.

Again, your average person sees how they see the scale and makes their assumption. So then the question is "What do they know?".

Answer: Nothing. They have an assumption (which could be quite valid and is in their day to day dealing with most people) and they act on that assumption.

If they aren't quite sure or want you to spill your guts, they may hint around at something.

Do Not Confirm!

I am not saying lie. I am saying do not confess. Plead the fifth. Do not kick the scale over and lose any change for a re-weigh. Let the relationship be what it is and try to leave that part behind.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Pocket Bottom

My ex called, wanting money I don't have. Wanting money that I can't give. It seems every time I get a bit ahead, she knows it and comes asking for about 3 times the amount that I have ahead of my bills.

I felt guilty for a while. I took a terrible deal on the divorce - much worse than a court would have given me. All out of a sense of obligation.

Yes, I am one of the evil ones who got married to try and 'get better'. Yes, I did care for her. No, I was not able to perfo......never mind.

When she asked, I got loans I could not afford. OF COURSE I was promised repayment. I did my part. I am truly sorry she has fallen on rough times.

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Bumper Stickers

In order to be a good person, do I have to be an activist? Do I have to be out?

First, let's talk about what it is to be an activist. To me, an activist is someone who is working to activate a needed social action. There are a couple of flavors.

Protester - Hey, there is going to be a big crowd at City Hall. Let's go show our numbers.
Lobbyist - Can I have an appointment with the Senator?
Screamer - A version of the protester. This is an in-your-face type person. You feel passionate that you have done something.
Debater - Logical arguments to convince someone to change their opinion/action.
Participater - I'm running for City Council. We'll fix this mess up.

Do I have to give up my medical history to do these things? No, not really. But some places you will be outed by association. Some, you will be outed as part of the political process. Some, you will be outed just so they don't have to listen to your screaming anymore.

I hate to live my life by bumper stickers but....

"Think Globally, Act Locally."

Sometimes the best we can do is to convince the people around us. If enough of us do that, we can hit critical mass and change the world. I mean, if you can't convince the person who has known you for years, who can you convince?

Build allies.

Monday, March 14, 2005

Don't Swallow the Nails

I have had a quest lately - make my room more 'grown up'.

I have a large bedroom, it easily fits my office and bed but the dichotomy is disturbing. I have the serene bedroom side and the MASS OF ELECTRONICS AND GEEKDOM side.

So, the weekend short term goal is this:

Hide the MASSIVE ELECTRONICS. I bought an entertainment armoire. It's the kind that people put TV's in. I got the pieces upstairs and got to assembly.

It was hot, okay? Really warm. Sweaty.

There isn't much more uncomfortable than a sweaty bra. So I changed to some pink shorts and a little tank. Sad to say, it was an uber-girly outfit.

So, my housemate gets home and I am standing in my room, in the uber-girly outfit, with 4-5 nails in my mouth, hammering the back onto the new armoire.

She looked at me and laughed.

"You are such a bizarre combo of butch and femme at the moment, you are freaking me out."

I commenced the orderly process of trying to swallow the nails in order laugh uncontrollably (okay, it wasn't that orderly). Roomie ordered me to spit out the nails and I survived without having to pass painful pointy things.

Roomie gets major points for saving my intestinal track but loses a couple on initiating the attack to begin with.

The Fruit Cup Girl

A few weeks ago I read Queen Bees and Wannabees and I found it pretty interesting. Apparently I have been on a sociology kick lately and this one looked good.

There is so much information in the book about social structure between girls - social structure that I was somewhat aware of but only peripherally involved with.

Anyway, one concept in the book was 'the fruit cup girl'. This is a scenario where a young lady, fully competent and of requisite strength, takes her fruit cup to her boy-of-interest to use his big strong muscles to open it for itty-bitty her.

Sigh.

AARGH.

The really, really nutty part is that THIS WORKS. Stroking a guy's ego, letting him come to the rescue, making yourself to be frail and helpless really gets their attention.

The opposite is also true. If you aren't frail, handle things yourself, and don't allow yourself to be rescued then...well....they won't hate you for it but they won't exactly beat your door down either.

I'm not good at 'the fruit cup girl'. But I can see the danger of it. I find myself downplaying my abilities. I leave out some things I have done in my life. I try to not make myself a threat to their ego. I can't keep it up for long, usually something slips out. I need to learn the ability to shut up and be impressed.

At the same time, I'd like a guy who can handle me. ALL OF ME.

And have you TRIED opening one of those fruit cups? Got a blowtorch?

Thursday, March 10, 2005

Just get her money and patronize

I am in a bad mood today. I am not quite sure why.

I feel like walking out on my job (or at least getting a new one). I ache. I want to lash out. I am trapped in meetings all day long.

I feel fat. I am being pulled in too many directions at once.

I was contacted by my SRS surgeons office this week. My Labiaplasty has been rescheduled. Fair enough. I scheduled for that eventuality.

But I just HATE talking to that office. The care I get when I am there is fine but when I talk to them on the phone I feel like:

1. I am bothering them unnecessary.

2. They think I am crazy/an annoyance/beneath them.

3. Any concerns I have are beneath notice and are just overreacting.

4. I am somehow trying to rip them off.

I have given them over $20,000, I expect some respect. Heck, I should be their best friend. Let's see their #$%# office staff put together $50,000 for major medical procedures OUT OF POCKET.

I am not some useless gold-digger. I am a consumer. I need a service that they provide and I will get it and go away and NEVER deal with them again.

Wow, I really need to cheer up.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Still can't skip commercials

I am totally addicted to my TiVo.

The ability to time shift my video viewing habits is...well....cool. If you want to examine a scene for more detail or just because it is interesting, it's easy.

Repetition exposes patterns. You see it in music. You see it in art. You see it in Groundhog Day. Patterns happen.

Case in point. You are pre-transition and want to tell your (parents/siblings/best friend/laundromat/pet-shop owner that you buy that really great dog food from) about your function.

There are a few ways this can go.

Case 1

All out rejection. "Get out of my face. I never want to see you again."

This one hurts but at least it is over with - mostly. Some people come back around. It can start with complete shunning followed by a very slow resumption of relationships.

Case 2

Acceptance? Yeah sure.

"Oh, that is soooo great! Of course we will support you."

Cue the happy music. Transitioner is in bliss, everything is fine. Right?

Then you find that the person is really just giving you a line. They are repulsed and really want to get away.

An example of this is when Mom and Dad are cool with things in person - only to try and have you committed the next week. This usually involves them bringing 'experts' in to agree with their rejection of you. Education is harder because they already have their minds made up.

Case 3

Adoption.

You get to be a mascot. "Oh, we'll go shopping."

Think of this as the life-size Barbie mode. It does wear off (eventually) but then they tend to out you to everyone they know ('Isn't it wonderful how accepting I am?').

Case 4

Leary acceptance.

Strangely enough, this is one of the best. People are skeptical but not unaccepting but not quite accepting up front. They are worried but can calm down on the fretting when they see you aren't walking the mall in a tutu and a purple beehive.

Case 5

Non issue.

Sure, everyone talks a good line. But the people who see you, who really SEE YOU are rare. These are the people who will stick with you. They may have trouble with names and pronouns (who doesn't) but it isn't vindictive.

If you have these people in your life then KEEP THEM AROUND. They are few and far between.


Any of the people who ultimately accept you will probably have problems with your name and pronouns. Keep a sense of humor. Don't jump down their throats. Gently correct them when appropriate (a vigorous correction could result in the lack of ALL pronouns - which, in my opinion, is worse).

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Why no pics?

Anonymity is a wonderful thing.

I've received a couple of emails decrying the fact that I don't actually show my face.

Fine, I'm a coward. A fraidy cat.

Chicken.

I hide behind a pseudonym and lack of a visual icon.

I suppose if I really wanted to, I could put up some kind of caricature. Anyway, let me state my reasons:

1. I NEVER want to be Googled by a potential BF. Disclosure of my history is something I would like to keep in my own hands. I am not saying that I won't disclose my past. My plan is to do it before things get too heated. I want someone to know me for me, not my medical condition or past.

2. I have things to say and my face has nothing to do with it. I have some things I want to say, that's it.

3. I do not want to be used for 'one-handed' surfing. ewww

4. I am vague about aspects of my life but there are enough clues to piece together who I am (I know, I know I am not that important). The anonymity is also a level of respect for others in my life. There is a stigma related to TS's, why would I drag anyone into that on purpose.

5. I don't want to be typecast. If people pigeonhole you, it is really hard to dig your way out (excuse the mixed metaphors please).

Case in point: Wil Wheaton was typecast because of his stint in Star Trek. I've been reading his blog and I followed him occasionally on Tech TV and through Slashdot. He is a pretty good guy. He's smart, funny, techy, an author (I will now throw in an 'etc.'). But his public perception is nearly always based on Wesley Crusher.

I know, strange example.

Unnatural!!! (What about the CHILDREN!)

My hair is now a color that I don't believe can be found in nature.

I like it.

Great, a new addiction. Getting my hair dyed.

The pre-emptive doughnut

I get in my own way.

Looking for the saboteur? I see her in the mirror.

I know I am doing it. I am trying to stop.

I don't know if I can.

Relationships scare me. Not friendships - I like those. No, what I am shy of is (note the use of all capital letters) RELATIONSHIPS.

I push men away before they get too close. I really do want to be close.

Some of it is my own ineptness. I talk too much. I talk too little.

I babble.

I talk about five different subjects IN THE SAME SENTENCE.

I try to give them a good excuse to reject me before they have even accepted me.

Pre-emptive. That's me.

Now the latest. I took away a big barrier to a relationship and added something to make it go....easier. Last year I had my GRS.

And promptly gained 25 pounds.

I blamed it on hormones. I blamed it on recovery.

Bullsh*t.

Maybe at the beginning, sure. But it is no excuse now. I keep the weight on to keep myself from the opportunities of getting close.

All I have accomplished is lowering the number of potentials.

My room is a cluttered mess. Most of that is the fact that I am a slob. Some of that is so I have an excuse not to bring anyone to my room.

I like them. I want them. But I don't want them to reject me. So I do it - first. I still want to be attractive but I have not yet given myself permission to be close.

I think that is much of it. No Permission.

What right do I have to be close to someone? I am poison. I am the sure route to rejection by someone's friends and family. Why would I do that to someone I care for?

Wow, I HAVE to get over this.

Monday, March 07, 2005

R.O.U.S. (domestic version)

I'll admit it, I am a bit of a pack rat.

Okay, maybe more than a bit.

I really need to get rid of some stuff. I am choking on my own history. This weekend I made a valiant effort at it. I have paperwork in all of these Rubbermaid bins. Sadly, I close the bin up and move on.

So, I went through a bin - filtered out the fluff - and consolidated what was left in an accordian file.

Two bins worth of paper only filled about half of the file. I have about 5 bins to go (but I don't think I'll keep nearly as much of that stuff).

Someday I'll live like a grown up.

Maybe this year?

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Laugh and the world laughs at....no I mean WITH you!

Joy.

Laughter.

Peace.

If these aren't the goals of transitioning then...well, I don't know what.

I didn't transition to be unhappy. To scowl. To tie my insides up in knots.

So why do we do it during transition.

A Sense of Humor is Critical!

Laugh.

Come on, some of it is funny. I look back on the foibles of my early transition and I HAVE to laugh. There are some pretty funny spots on the way.

Yes, horrific things happen. Yes, life at times can suck. But not ALL of it, right?

A few weeks before I told everyone at work, someone told a story. Someone at their previous job had transitioned. The person was well liked and kept their job afterward. So, her name prior to transition was 'Fred' and after 'Heather'. So they came up with the nickname 'Feather'.

Okay, some may see it as cruel. But it could be worse. When you get nicknames it means that you are still part of the group. You still have a place in the social order.

Anyway, when I told these folks a few weeks later...well it went like this.

They knew something was up. The two basic theories were:

I was quitting.
I had a terminal illness.

This was with the core group, I hadn't made the official announcement yet. So, to ensure privacy we all sat in the car of the person with the 'Feather' story.

"Okay [old name], what's up?" He asked. I gathered my courage and said one word.

"Feather."

That pretty much got the point across. Of course conversation followed but including a little humor helped.

Okay, two weeks later, and I am going to tell the rest of the building. I had everyone gathered in the conference room. Everyone knew something was up. The two theories from above were still the best bets. HR was sitting beside me (cautioned to keep her mouth shut - another story later),

"Hi everyone."

They were all a little quiet.

"I bet you're all wondering why I asked you all here."

Still quiet.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you all about a wonderful opportunity in multi-level marketing....."

Thank god they laughed. I launched into my story. They actually applauded.

The point is....laugh a little. It's a stressful situation for everyone, diffuse it a little.

Talk. Laugh. Have fun.

Friday, March 04, 2005

Amazons, Sticks, and Titanium Wire

I am not svelte.

I am not skinny.

I am not an ectomorph.

I am not a waif.

I am not (by any stretch of the imagination) petite.

I am tall, but not outrageously so. (Amazon quotient = 8.5)

I have some extra pounds.

I do have curves.

I don't deny my age but I don't look my age.

The only man-made materials attached to my body is titanium wire and medical bondo.

My voice has range that I don't use.

My hair is my own. It is red(ish)(1) and reaches to the middle of my back.

I get along all right. Mothers don't protect their children from me. Teenage girls seem to assume I am just someones Mom. Maybe I am wrong on that but what does it matter?

When I walk in a crowd and people stare at me I still wonder if they are seeing my past or if I look really good or maybe if there is a piece of food on my breast(2).

I still have to remind myself I can only judge people on how they act not on how they think.

Random thoughts:

No one thinks of themself as a villain.

Not everything is about me(3) .

Can anyone really know anything? All people really can do is make assumptions based on evidence (observation, testimony, kirlian photography, the force). If enough clues pile up then the educated guesses just get more reliable.

The grass is greener. If you have straight hair - curls. The curly haired - straight. Short women envy the tall.


(1) Not the factory installed color.
(2) Common term for breasts in my family and with my roommates is 'food catchers'. My mother laughed hysterically when she first saw it happen to me.
(3) See - The Anne Barlow Centric World (How have you dealt with Anne today?)

Thursday, March 03, 2005

Cheerios and Those Funny Stand Up Toilet Thingies

The Male Buffer....how close together can a straight guy be to any other guy and not break the code of heterosexuality?

The most explicit example is urinal selection. Dave Barry explained it pretty well. Essentially there is a buffer around guys that is only broken in the most dire circumstances.

(There is a point to this - bear with me)

Situation 1. Five urinals (A B C D E). Someone is at urinal A. Where do you go?

A B C D E
X

The answer is - E!

Situation 2. Someone is at Urinal A and E. Where do you go?

A B C D E
X - - - - X

The answer is - C!

Okay, the gist is that no one EVER gets near the other guys.

The same holds true to some extent for seats in classrooms, bus rides, park benches, Britney Spears concer...um...okay, maybe not the last one. At that point, dignity is lost.

Women, however, seem to clump within the phenomenon of the 'cheerio effect'. The basic principal can be explained with breakfast cereal. Pour yourself a bowl of floaty-type cereal. Eat. When the last spoonful is still in the bowl - stop. Are the cheerios swimming off on their own, hoping not to be noticed? Nope, they clump together in a show of nutritional solidarity.

DO YOU HAVE A POINT, ANNE?

Yes, thank you for asking.

One more case. Men will normally sit close to women without much problem. This somewhat negates the buffer rule. It is as if the presence of the woman somehow affirms the heterosexuality of the dude.

The point?

Last night, in class, with plenty of open area available - I found myself surrounded by some of the cuter men of the class.

I just thought it was cool

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

Just curious

Kinda want to see what happens with this....

Vote for this site at Freedom Forum

Chameleon Power - ACTIVATE!

I have lived much of my life trying told lock my behavior down with an iron grip. I knew that to preserve my life I had to hide how I wanted to act. I tried desperately to emulate the boys.

It was an act and sometimes I lost the character. I so wanted to relax and be myself but I couldn't. As it was, the boys knew I was only a member of their club in name only. I could play their game if I had to but I just couldn't revel in it like they could. (I call this the 'Jane Goodall approach to understanding males').

In college I avoided the wild parties. I was slightly terrified to be drunk. I mean, what if I said something? What if I lost what control I had?

So I learned to be reserved - non expressive. My heart screamed out to be heard but I kept it in check. I learned other ways to express myself (music, writing).

Well, Practice Makes Permanent and now I find it hard to express my emotion until I am very comfortable with a group. Jump into a club and start dancing? Nope, I am the quiet one on the edge.

I suppose much of it has to do with self-esteem as well. Do I really deserve a relationship with a guy? Is it fair to saddle him with someone with my baggage?

Good Lord, why do I think about how I act so much? Can't I just BE?

What is the point of a life that I won't even bother to LIVE?