May. 26th, 2007
I have become recently obsessed with the song "The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia". Its not like I wasn't familiar with this song before, but I don't know, it came up randomly on my ipod the other day and hearing Vicki Lawrence sing "that's one body that won't be found" kinda creeps me out in this way where I feel elated. Like watching a horror movie. So it's been on repeat.
I survived my 15 miles of bike riding yesterday, but my body is a little sore today and a little extra angry because of the whole "you were just sick" thing. So I'm maybe glad that it's Saturday and cold and grey because the temptation to go outside is not there. I have spent my morning puttering, including futzing with my new cell phone that came in the mail (free fancy upgrade!). Luckily, I don't have to send out the hangdog e-mail asking for people's numbers, because I was able to transfer them all myself. Actually, I even have an extra SIM card, because the first phone was defective and when they sent a second one, they sent a second card that I didn't need. I think it's ridiculous how cell phone companies try to charge these exhorbitant prices in some cases, but then throw isht at people for free at other times (i.e. contract renewals). I mean, my defective phone is still sitting in my house and I"m waiting on a return label, but the last time this happened, no return label was ever sent and I was never charged for the extra phone. Whatever, another thing on the list of random bogus capitalist things in this world.
The recent talk regarding the Gendercator film made me dig out the book "Lesbians Talk Transgender" which made me realize, um, this belongs to
saltjam. (I will gladly give this back to you!) But anyway, I haven't read the book in years and its pretty thin, maybe I will read it again out of curiosity to see how it holds up, what I will remember. I don't think about 'trans stuff' very often and I realize this is maybe not the best way for me to be, because that means when it comes up, it seems more loaded than maybe it has to be. I think it was just this cycle of: talking/thinking about it too much -> feeling constantly burnt out -> deciding to indulge in the luxury that non-trans people have everyday and not think/talk about it (aka 'be stealth'), though really, I'm never completely. But then I realized wait, I don't think non-trans people shouldn't think about these things. This doesn't mean I'm going to work on Tuesday and outing myself to all my co-workers at a corporate law firm, cause that isht would be exhausting and tedious. I just mean, with myself. And you know, in my livejournal.
( oops, this got long. )
On some random few and far between occasion, I would totally buy Catherine Crouch a beer and listen to everything she is feeling and help her separate out how my life is a completely different animal species that doesn't apply to our experience and connect over the ways we have both had to exist in a binary and what to do about it. On 99.5% of days, though, I'm perfectly happy to have lots of butch women in my life who are thinking all these things out, who support trans as much as they support their own identities, and they can do it for me. So I can resume my own duties: challenging straight men's assumptions that women having sex with each is for their benfit. It's all about having each other's back, right?
I survived my 15 miles of bike riding yesterday, but my body is a little sore today and a little extra angry because of the whole "you were just sick" thing. So I'm maybe glad that it's Saturday and cold and grey because the temptation to go outside is not there. I have spent my morning puttering, including futzing with my new cell phone that came in the mail (free fancy upgrade!). Luckily, I don't have to send out the hangdog e-mail asking for people's numbers, because I was able to transfer them all myself. Actually, I even have an extra SIM card, because the first phone was defective and when they sent a second one, they sent a second card that I didn't need. I think it's ridiculous how cell phone companies try to charge these exhorbitant prices in some cases, but then throw isht at people for free at other times (i.e. contract renewals). I mean, my defective phone is still sitting in my house and I"m waiting on a return label, but the last time this happened, no return label was ever sent and I was never charged for the extra phone. Whatever, another thing on the list of random bogus capitalist things in this world.
The recent talk regarding the Gendercator film made me dig out the book "Lesbians Talk Transgender" which made me realize, um, this belongs to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
( oops, this got long. )
On some random few and far between occasion, I would totally buy Catherine Crouch a beer and listen to everything she is feeling and help her separate out how my life is a completely different animal species that doesn't apply to our experience and connect over the ways we have both had to exist in a binary and what to do about it. On 99.5% of days, though, I'm perfectly happy to have lots of butch women in my life who are thinking all these things out, who support trans as much as they support their own identities, and they can do it for me. So I can resume my own duties: challenging straight men's assumptions that women having sex with each is for their benfit. It's all about having each other's back, right?