I should list one of my interests as 'caveats'.

There's been a theme this week, involving me feeling compromised about personal journaling and how it relates to real people in my life reading it on a regular basis. It's not the first time I've ever though about it obviously, but nowadays I have many "real-life" folks reading my entries while also forming more "real-life" frienships with people outside of LJ. So I'm making it more complicated for myself, I suppose. But I take it as a sign that I've received a couple of direct remarks from folks encouraging me to remain forthright and honest. I've also read a couple posts not aimed at me but addressing the exact same issue. So I guess all I have to say is this:

Everything I write is true at the time, but may not stay true. And it's only a small percentage. I know that's sort of scary, but no matter how much of my heart I seem to wear on my sleeve, I never completely reveal myself.

So yeah. This is such a weird format for keeping a journal in some ways, because I love getting comments and feedback and having conversations. But occasionally there's just the desire to have it be a record of events or whatever. I don't really want to compromise either one.

And now back to our regularly scheduled postings....

Well I've never been to heaven, but I've been to Mississippi.

My muscles are feeling very crampy this morning -- probably because I'm dehydrated from going out last night. Melanie invited me along to dinner with the Outlaw folks, which is the lgbt group at U of C lawschool. We ate at a ritzy Chinese restaurant in the downtown area that had tasty food but a cantankerous waiter. I wasn't sure how I would do, since I wasn't feeling particularly social, but I managed to surprise myself. And I was lucky to be sitting near cool, funny folks. I also think Melanie and I are starting to have patterns about how folks interact with us in queer settings. People either assume we're a straight couple, or that we're maybe Will & Grace. If anything, we're more Jack and Karen. ("Where's that potsticker man?!?") I always thought that as a couple we be taken for quasi-lesbians or a lesbian couple with a twist, which I thought would be annoying, but to be honest, I'd MUCH rather be seen a dyke couple than a straight couple. One of the Outlaw people, who was not trying to insulting at all, and was probably just trying to validate my male identity or something, made a comment last night about people going to Spin, and how there would be straight people there and indicated us. I was completely over-the-top offended (hello, drama queen?), but didn't say anything, since he wasn't trying to be rude or anything. And he did sorta backtrack and make some comment about how he shouldn't assume anyone's identity, etc. etc. I think it thoroughly confused his friend sitting across from me who didn't know I was trans and thought I was a gay man. Which I knew because when I opened my fortune cookie it said "You are currently considering a different lifestyle." And she retorted "What? Are you going to go straight now?"

Our life really should be a sitcom.

But as I told Di___ later at the bar, I was so appalled by the implication of being straight because I am the queerest of the queer. Shirley Manson wrote that song for me.

It was all very amusing.

I have lots of work to do, and I will be trying my best to avoid the time-trap of the net, particularly LJ. And in other news of the weird, I have therapy tonight and I'm not absolutely dreading it. Maybe because I have nothing to talk about. Except for maybe holiday plans. Ugh. The holidays. Should I leave town for Thanksgiving or Xmas or New Year's or none of the above? Ugh again.

This started out as a reply to Tara's comment, but it got too long...

I sorta feel like an ass, because to be honest this is a VERY new experience for me. I came out as a dyke, and I was so butch -- not just in my clothes and hair, but just in this sort of inherent way, so I was seen as queer all the time. And even if I was seen as straight, to be honest, I was thrilled to be seen as a sexual being at all, since that wasn't the case all through highschool and the beginning of college.

I have lots of femme friends and gf, or even just non-butch dyke friends (if they didn't strictly identify as femme) who would talk about hating their passing ability or feeling frustrated by not appearing queer. I was always the butch they liked to hang out with, because being seen with me sometimes made them queer! And of course I "understood" what they meant about invisibility, even among other queers, and could empathize. But it's not until I transitioned and started being read as "straight male" that I fully REALIZED what it's like to be queer-invisible. This is probably why I'm very fag-identified. It's a way of being queer without having to explain my gender identity or necessarily out myself as trans right away.

Coming out as trans from this side of the equation is a really new experience for me that I'm still trying to negotiate. I feel like a virtual expert in coming out as trans to folks who knew me in various past lives, and I even got pretty good at coming out to strangers when I was in the middle of transitioning -- like if someone at a party assumed I was a dyke, I was pretty good about either saying I was trans or saying that I don't identify as female, or even just saying "uh, I'm a guy" with my non-passing voice and face. But now, I'm read as male, assumed male, assumed bio-male.....and I don't necessarily mean to "hide" my transness, but it's hard. It's hard to know when to come out to folks. I don't want to do it too early and have them stumbling with prounouns everytime we hang out. I haven't had tons of experience with this though, since I haven't started that many new friendships in the past few months.

But anyway, now is the time I should say to all my femme and non-femme queer sisters, friends, and lovers something that most butches probably can't say: Now I know and know how hard it is and know how much it sucks.

(no subject)

Damon sent me this AP news article. The opening part made me crack up.

Diocese says "Danny Boy" isn't appropriate at Mass
- - - - - - - - - - - -
By BRIAN CAROVILLANO
Oct. 24, 2001 |
PROVIDENCE, Rhode Island (AP) --
The ballad "Danny Boy" has long been played at funerals, wakes and memorial services, its mournful strains conjuring up images of Ireland's green pastures and wind-swept hills.
New York Fire Chief Peter Ganci, killed in the World Trade Center attack, actor Carroll O'Connor and John F. Kennedy Jr. all were laid to rest with the plaintive melody.
So when the Roman Catholic Diocese of Providence banned "Danny Boy" and other secular songs from funeral Masses, it raised the ire of Irish-Americans.
"I want 'Danny Boy' sung at my funeral Mass and, if it isn't, I'm going to get up and walk out," retired Pawtucket police officer Charlie McKenna wrote in April to The Providence Visitor.

It almost makes me feel connected to being Irish.

almost.

guess what?

I don't want to go to therapy. Ha.

unfortunately I'm not kidding.

In other news, between downloading cases for research binders, I've done some minor stalking of this boy I talked to at the work event two weeks ago. I had a really good time talking to him, but then for some dumb reason I pretty much just walked away from him and didn't offer my e-mail or anything. So now I'm engaging in friend-stalking. Though I think I'm actually closer to engaging in regular stalking than the person who invented that term initally intended. The internet is a scary fount of information. Or a bubbler, depending on where you're from.

So yeah, I have his full name, and I have his e-mail address, because my co-worker sent out a mass e-mail to the volunteers thanking us for your work. I could conceivably e-mail him from that list, but what would I say? Would I offer going to lunch/coffee/dinner/beer? Would that be asking him out on a date? Would it be a date, or would it be "hanging out"? Do I want either? He was really cute, in a me sort of way. Did I just say that?

Speaking of that event, I should call up the chick we gave a ride to and say howdy. Perhaps she could also be a source for a halloween party.... I feel weird calling her up, especially since I don't have a concrete plan (i.e. I'm not calling her to see if she wants to come have dinner with us or something), but I also don't want to wait too long and then feel like the statute of limitations has run out and I can't call her. And she can't call me because she doesn't have our number. And I didn't even see her on the previously mentioned volunteer e-mail.

Ah, the minute details of maintaining social connections.

Oh, and get this -- the woman from the cultural center (and the $400 tarot gig) JUST called today, while I was eating lunch. I told Lisa to put her in my voicemail because I was expecting her to call and say "sorry, we can't hire you". But instead she was calling to say she would fax over the contract and directions. wha? So I debate about whether to take the gig, especially since she didn't call Damon back -- and he's been trying to reach her this whole time. I thought that was lame to not returns his call, and to also string us along. But...four hundred dollars is four hundred dollars. So I finally decided to take it (after talking to Damon about it too), and then she wasn't in her office! So I left a voicemail, and it's been an hour and a half! And I even left my fax number in the message, but she hasn't sent anything. So here I am, deciding to be a whore and take the money, and now she might not even call me back. What do I do if she doesn't call before 5 pm? What if she calls tomorrow? Do I say yes? I would ask for more money in exchange, but the whole reason she wasn't calling us back is because of budget issues. Hmmm. If I do the gig, I'm not getting a costume or tux -- I'm just wearing my suit. And I'm not going to do any major studying.

Hmmm...Cultural Center person just called me. And told me that they had to cut the budget and could only hire one person. I told her to call Damon and offer him the job, and if he doesn't want it, I'll take it. That way, he has an opportunity to say yes, or say no and call her a punk for not calling him back. Either way, I'm cool with it.

We shall see.....