Wednesday, November 30, 2005

There are better things to talk about

I have had friends that, after years of knowing them, I have been outed to (wow, awkward sentence much?).
 
Rewrite that, I will.
 
There are people that I have known for years.  I would consider them friends.  After those years, someone has told them of my history.
 
Jeepers, the cat is out of the bag (also a strange saying, but I digress).  Friendship over, right?
 
It didn't matter.  Our friendship remains.  But the subject NEVER comes up.  If it did, we would talk about it but I think that we all agree that it would be opening a can of worms (cliche AGAIN) that would just be strange to talk about.
 
It's probably best that we keep the subject of how our genitalia changed from year to year to ourselves.  (But maybe that is just me).

Monday, November 28, 2005

Looking T'wards It

What is family? Is the definition related solely to a genetic linkage or a governmental contract?

Sure, those things are part of it but I sure think it gets deeper than that.

This Thanksgiving I spent in my home, with my roommates. Each of us prepared part of a meal, ensuring that we had the necessary items to designate the day as a 'real Thanksgiving'.

We flowed around each other in the kitchen, cooking the meal was a real pleasure. We watched movies and played board games. There was a relaxed comfort in our little family of choice.

So how did we end up as we are?

[Insert another rambling story here]

I worked with one of my roommates at my practice job. We were friends, we did stuff socially, we talked non-stop (to the point of getting in trouble sometimes).

Early in my transition, I helped a friend through the process of FFS (Facial Feminization Surgery). By helped I mean stayed by her at the hospital, held her hand, made her soup.

The first night after her surgery, she was miserable. She had a lot of discomfort, her mouth was constantly filling with blood, her eyes were swollen shut. She looked like a truck hit her and then backed over her to try and finish the job.

Her first words to me after getting out of surgery were "Don't do it." (she has since altered this assessment).

I was shaken, scared. I was upset that my friend was in pain and that she felt she had made the wrong choice.

Another friend stayed with her in the hospital that night, I drove home.

But I stopped by the store on the way home. I don't know why but I really needed to see my future roommate. When she saw me, she dropped what she was doing, rushed over to me and gave me a big hug.

It is what I needed. I cried on the way home from the store. It was a good cry - I was happy to have such wonderful friends. I realized that she was family. When she moved into my second room I knew it was going to be for a while.

A few months later she brought our second roommate into the picture and we all got a bigger place together.

We bicker, we chide, but we have a solid comfort together (all of us). All of us have our biological families in the picture still but, in our own way, we are family together as well.

In a few weeks I will be going to my parents house for Christmas. We will all putter around the kitchen. We will leave the SciFi channel on all day long and probably fall asleep after our smorgasbord type meal (all hail the comfy chair - no one dare risk it's clutches lest they lapse into unconsciousness!). A really close friend of mine will join us (as is becoming tradition), she fits in with us quite well.

I don't know if I have really defined family with this rambling post (but I think I have). To me, the relationships are self-defining.

I don't know if family really HAS to be defined - it just is.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Flashback and Sugar Rush (The Practice Job Part 8)

Years ago, I was forbidden to cook.

It was not appropriate.

Well, let me revise that a little bit. I was forbidden to cook most things. What I was allowed to prepare can be best described as 'bachelor chow'. I was allowed to barbeque, grill steaks, make hamburger helper, etc.

That sucked. I love to cook (and I am pretty good at it). When I once again found myself living on my own, I ran with it. I was at the grocery daily, always trying new things. Some things worked and some didn't.

When I was young, I took on many of the cooking duties in the house. My Mother would tell me, 'If you want it, then go ahead and make it." She would teach me anything I asked. My Grandmother would chime in and teach from time to time as well.

Anyway, I loved to bake. It wasn't just the Zen of Cooking that I got into - it was the appreciation of those who ate what I prepared. My cookies became an often requested item in my own social circles as well as the social circles of my family.

Then, years later, I was informed that my cookies sucked (Is sucked the right word? it could be 'bite' or 'blow', I can never keep those straight). Everyone I ever knew that said they liked my cookies was just being nice to me. What they really liked was the cookies that were made by someone for whom it was appropriate.

Kind of devastating to hear, really.

Back to the practice job. It was my happy place, I loved it there, yada yada yada. Anyway, a standard crew worked Saturday nights. I don't know about you but there is something kinda of punitive about working Saturday night.

So I went out on a limb and started baking again. Each Saturday night I would bring in my latest confection experiment (often the dreaded cookies). If nothing else, the hungry college students that worked at the store with me would appreciate it.

They did and I discovered that the 'everyone was just being nice about my sucky cookies' comment was a lie. Some of my culinary experiments were very sketchy prototypes (the 'Frosted Sugar Brick' concept has fleshed out quite nicely now, thank you.) Not everything was always eaten (ie.the forementioned 'Frosted Sugar Brick'). But it was always appreciated.

And even better, I was not known as that 'Transsexual'. I was the one with the cookies.

I guess my point is, we can define ourselves, and we are not limited to being pigeonholed into merely medical categories.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Constantly Expanding

I think you'll hear me say this over and over.

I am a HUGE proponent of constantly expanding social circles.

The gist of it goes like this.

You live in your me-centric world. You have friends, let's say four or five close ones. Everything you do is inside that world or you and your friends. It is nice, stable but a little bit insular.

What do you do? Go do something you enjoy. Meet new people. DO things with them. You now have two groups of friends. The groups may mingle and come up with all kinds of new configurations. But, instead of one circle of friends, you are dealing with two.

In any group of friends there is at least a little diversity of interest. The more people you know the more exposure to new and interesting things you will get. You may get to tag along.

So you try something new, you may like it and you may not.

The point is you are out there LIVING IN THE WORLD. You are taking bites of life, learning new things, DOING NEW THINGS.

I think that is what makes life more fun.

(annoying geek reference)
Infinite Diversity Infinite Combination
(/annoying geek reference)

Thanks

It is easy to dwell on the negative aspects of life. I know I am guilty of it. I mean, how easy is it to list what is wrong?

So, in the spirit of the impending U.S. Centric holiday, I am going to list positive things in my life.

My family, both biological and situational. I am very lucky.
I have the best friends on the planet.
I am employed.
I am healthy.
I am learning something every day.
I have an addiction to video games that is NOT totally overwhelming my life.
My friends and family are healthy.
My personal activism is paying off big time.
I do not get laughed off the stage in acting class (neither are there awkward silences).
I am thankful that my family will still argue with me.

Life is good.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Day of Remembrance

I attended the Annual Transgender Day of Remembrance in 'The City' last night.
 
I was impressed.
 
I know, I know - the Queen of Assimilation attends a T event???? The Horror!
 
But if I don't go then who will?  If I don't think it is important enough to remember those whose lives have been erased then how can I expect others to do the same?
 
I could not, in good conscience, avoid it.
 
So I went.  I saw the best in most of the participants.  People were accepting, giving.  Their souls went into this cause.  It was a small group but there was nearly a solidarity among those their.  The fallen were remembered and mourned.
 
I briefly met Gwen Araujo's mother, Sylvia.  Good Lord, that woman is impressive.  She lost her child, who was deeply loved by her entire family.  She continues to fight for justice for an entire group and EACH AND EVERY TIME she participates, she is reminded of the brutal killing of her daughter.  Yet she continues to fight.
 
There were those who were there for their own benefit as well.  Some people can't stand to not be the center of attention for even a short time.  People who do wonderful things but cannot put their own egos aside for even a few minutes, always waiting for the unintentional insult to dramatically react to.
 
And, when called on it, they pull out their stellar argument "I've been a transsexual longer than you."
 
Yeah, that really brings a group together.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Today

I remember

Friday, November 11, 2005

Stampede

I'm running.

I don't know if I am running to something or away from something.

I'm not even running that fast. It's not a race.

But if I don't figure out why I am running then how will I know if I am at my destination? How will I know I got away?

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Shock and Awe

The question is how to break the news to those you deal with every day. How do you build up to the point of your transition being known?

Do you sneak more and more feminine things into your daily appearance? Do you eek out hints of your pending transition?

Or do you use 'shock and awe'? Do you suddenly show up to work one day in a skirt?

In the movie 'Normal' our protaganist tries the slow transformation approach. One day he wears earrings to work.

Was it a good idea?

There are advantages to either method - and disadvantages.

I think the solution is to keep it organic. I use the term organic in the sense of telling a story. Use what you have. In 'Unbreakable' the heroes costume isn't a leotard but instead is a poncho, that is used in its normal capacity to keep the rain off.

Avoid 'Deus ex Machina'. That is a term that is used to denote a bit of a suprise ending. The story procedes to an almost unintelligible tangle. At the end, clouds are lowered from the ceiling and the voice of God comes out and just 'fixes' everything - out of nowhere. (Deus Ex Machina literally means 'God as Machine').

Okay, back to organically transitioning. There are things you have to do, facades you have to leave behind. I say do it to an extent. Be true, don't put on a front. You don't have to tell everyone but let your self shine through.

You have to grow your hair out? Let it grow. You are taking hormones? Electrolysis? So be it.

What you don't want to get across is a bouncing back and forth. You can exude an air of instability. Try to avoid that.

Basically what I am saying is proceed to your goal. Don't force it.

(awaiting Alexandra's harp on voice in 5.....4....3...)

Thursday, November 03, 2005

The Practice Job (Part 7)

So, you may ask, if the store was your 'happy place', a location and society that left you more energized when you left than when you got there.

If it was, in fact, paradise.

The WHY DON'T YOU WORK THERE ANY MORE????

Good question oh fictitious curious one. I'm glad you asked.

I got tired.

As I have said before I believe in constantly expanding social circles. I go to school, singles events, date. I ran out of time in my days.

The store started to feel like an obligation. So I tried to quit.

I went up the the manager and said the words:

"I quit."

You would think that that would do it, right?

Nope. He just took me off the schedule. I still went back for emegencies for 9 months after I 'quit'. I can still go back today.

It was a magic time (Good Lord that sounds corny!). But it had to end.

I recommend it to all. I would do it all over again in a second.

[enter Doogie Howser pre-blog diary entry here]

I learned something that day.....
The only way....
to grow up....
is to...
stop...
[insert Blue Screen of Death here]
*Doogie swears*

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Do you want to be famous?

Do you want to be famous? Successful?

You do? Great!

For what?

I don't think I would mind it for Music, Writing, Programming, a Heroic Act.

I really don't mind if I am known.

But what I don't want to be known for is being the Transsexual version of each of those. It's (almost) okay if that is known but I would prefer to be acknowledged without the caveat.

Let my bio-history be an aside and not the focus.