overwhelmed.

yeah, so I finished my semester, with excellent grades.  Dove right into my summer internship, then realized that my school was REALLY not going to fund me.  Then looked at my bank account.  Not good.  So, on top of summer internship, and all the activisty-organizing things I’m doing, I need to make money.

Can you guess what I did?  I started answering random ads on craigslist.

Not just any ads, but ads pertaining to my old career, which some of you may recall involved turning fabric into garments.

Ads that are looking for someone with my skills are never from anyone reputable.  After all, it’s an industry that works by word of mouth.  If you want someone to sew for you, you ask all the people you know who sew.  So, if you’re looking on craigslist, it means you don’t know anyone who sews.  Which means, you have no idea at all what you’re doing.

I answered such an ad today, out of sheer desperation for cash.  We’ll have plenty this fall, but I would call this a little dry spell.  Now I have to actually do it, follow through, and tell them how much they have to pay me and how long it will take.

The trouble is, I have no idea.  I want the money bad enough to lowball in order to make sure I get the job.  But in my world, where the people looking for my skills know what they’re doing, all I have to do is show up and work.  I don’t have to decide how long it will take.  I’m not responsible.

When you’re freelancing, it all changes.  I’m accountable to them for every hour, and I have to tell them how many it will take.  However, they seem to be willing to pay me actual cash for this, and it’s too good to pass up.  So I think I’ll be working some long days coming up…

And, I think it’s time I started really blogging again.  I think I needed to clear my head after the semester, and take a bit of an impromptu break, but I’m going to have plenty to say about all these legislative victories and setbacks once I figure out what’s going on with them.

So it’s nice to see you all, even though I hardly deserve anyone’s attention at the rate I’ve been writing recently.  At the very least there should be some interesting stories this summer about my quest for cash!

out in the world

Today is the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia, which I had never heard of until yesterday, when it showed up in my reader.  Go take a look, and appreciate that some countries are paying more attention than ours, even while others have much further to go.  I especially appreciate that the focus this year is transphobia, which is rampant even in so-called progressive places like Boston.

Homophobia/transphobia is really powerful.  M. took me out to a gorgeous dinner last night to celebrate my birthday, and I was nervous as we got ready to go.  I changed my clothes a couple of times, deciding against the flimsy sexy dress I had originally planned to wear, getting increasingly antsy about the whole thing.  We realized we haven’t been out to a nice place like that since 2007.  

As we drove to the restaurant M. asked me why I was nervous, and I hedged a little, and then she just said it:  ”You’re worried because we’re queer.”  Yes.  I was.  Sometimes I do get anxious going into a super straight environment, dressed to look fabulous.  I know I’ll get attention, and I’m used to that.  It’s negative attention towards M. that kills me, and it happens more when we’re out dressed to the butch/femme nines.

But we got there and were greeted by a couple of alternative, potentially-queer-themselves young women, who didn’t bat an eye when we walked in.  In fact, they smiled fondly at us.  The service was impeccable — just the right balance of attentiveness to our needs but absence when we were particularly deep in conversation.

The waiter had a moment to prove her gender sensitivity prowess when we ordered a bottle of wine.  We had agreed on one we wanted to try, and M. ordered it, checking in that it had the characteristics we were looking for.  It turned out to be different, and we discussed our options a bit and she went to talk to the wine steward.  When she came back, she offered the choices to me, as I’d been more engaged in the decision process.  I chose a bottle, and when she brought it back to our table, she poured a taste into both of our glasses.  She started out thinking M. was in charge, realized that I was choosing the wine, and saved everyone by treating us like we were both in charge.  Lovely.

She treated us perfectly the whole night.  But since we have become more openly ourselves, the reactions we face are not always positive.  I went into this dinner situation nervous that things would go wrong, that we would have the classic queer experience of claiming the right to live our lives in the same manner as straight people, celebrating birthdays in nice restaurants, and end up subtly told by the world that we aren’t allowed in.  But that didn’t happen.  We were surrounded by other diners who were definitely curious, but the entire staff of the restaurant was amazing.  Respectful, friendly, and welcoming.  

I’m sorry that I worried, that I sold them short and even for a moment thought that they wouldn’t treat us well.  

But this kind of expectation is the result of homophobia and transphobia:  when you are treated differently from the mainstream people around you, you start to expect to be treated differently.  You start to anticipate the negativity and guard against it even before you get to where you’re going.  And as a result we all experience way more stress than we need to, because as it turns out I didn’t need to be stressed at all last night.  But I didn’t know until we got there.  

We’re good at dealing with this stuff.  We’ve been going to somewhat high-end restaurants on our own since we were teenagers — and if you think it’s hard being queer sometimes, try being a dumbass 16-year-old queer trying to take your girlfriend out to a proper dinner date.  But sometimes I just get tired of it.

So we still need to pay attention to homophobia and transphobia, just as we still need to pay attention to racism and sexism.  (Should I say ‘heterosexism and cis-genderism?  I don’t know!)  I am impressed that the governments of some countries are officially marking this International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia.

Oh yeah, and it’s the fifth anniversary of legal marriage here in good old Massachusetts.  And you know what?  the sky is still up there…

another year of me

I considered my birthday a hellish day to be gotten through for most of my childhood, full of difficult family dynamics like sibling jealousy and parental strife.  Attention uncomfortably focused on me, receiving presents I knew sometimes my parents couldn’t really afford.  At least they on some level wanted me to believe that.  Birthdays were hard.  Until I met M., and we fell in love.

***

My 16th birthday was spent tramping the woods in the rain.  We played hooky from school (a frequent occurrence, thankfully supported by both sets of parents) and M. came over early in the morning.  I was still in bed, and she gave me a pile of silly presents wrapped in gold foil paper.  

We set off for the woods once I roused myself.  It was only drizzling when we left the house, and we didn’t pay any attention to the weather.  

As we walked the rain picked up, falling first on the new wet-silk leaves, then falling through to our heads in thick fat drops.  We just kept walking.  We passed an enormous porcupine, quills at crazy angles.  We could have touched it if we dared, but we knew better.  We visited the stream at the bottom of the hill, rushing through the hemlocks, and passed by the beaver dam.  When I was younger you could walk across it, but it had fallen into disrepair by that point and wasn’t safe.

I don’t remember what we talked about.  I remember how it felt to get slowly soaked to the skin in the gentle, persistent rain, and not care at all.  I remember being surrounded by the emerald green of the woods, so fresh and new and damp in May.  And I remember feeling at peace, comfortable and happy in M.’s presence.

We got back to my house eventually, and had to change out of our wet clothes on the porch because my mom didn’t want us dripping in the house.  We were back to reality — family drama, setting the table for dinner, my mom’s insecurity about whether the food I asked for was right or not — but the peace had settled into my soul, and I was unfazed by everything else.  It was a lovely birthday.

***

My 16th birthday marked a turning point for me.  It was a moment of separation from my childhood self, and a taste of what being all grown up would be.  Being grown up has not been a disappointment.  I consider my birthday now to be a day where I recommit — I say hey world, here I am.  I’m glad to be alive.  Expect another year of me, coming right up.

“freedom has a scent like the top of a newborn baby’s head”

Wait, wtf, Bono??  Does anyone else remember that awful song by U2?  Never mind.

Yesterday it felt like a flock of birds flew by me and lifted the lead mantle of school off of my shoulders.  My grad school headache receded.  I smiled naturally.  M. noticed right away.  I’m almost done — just one more assignment, and it’s not a majorly stressful one, and then I’m really free for the summer.

And I can’t tell you how good that feels!

I have lots of plans.  I want to get outside more, and eat ice cream (more than I already do), and work on some of my crafty projects…it’s definitely been too long.  I was reduced to coloring in one of my childhood coloring books to relieve stress a few days ago.  [Shut up, doesn't everyone still have their childhood coloring books?  Some of mine are very high quality!!  I went to design school as an undergrad, what do you want from me?]

And I can’t believe I’m almost halfway done with this grad school thing, it blows my mind.  I mostly think it’s worth it, though it often doesn’t feel like it.  

I’ve been bitten by the travel bug too, the impulse to go exploring and see new things and wander a place completely anonymously.  Moving to a new neighborhood will help, but this is a bigger desire.  A desire for the thrill of discovery as I experience something for the first time.  I know that looking at things for a hundredth or a thousandth time it is still possible to see new angles, new lines and shadows, but there is something brain-expanding about having to take something in and process it in its total strangeness without the anchor of something familiar.  I don’t know when we will have the money to travel again, but I’m looking forward to it.

Well it’s nice to be back.  I’m going to have to try to get my brain out of the research paper rut and back to more entertaining business!  Happy May!