I know you know who Tina and Jess are, and if you follow our blogs at all you know that we’re good friends. Tina has asked that we repost this announcement about Jess(e)’s top surgery fundraiser, which M. and I will, of course, be attending this Saturday. Please consider coming, and if you can’t, please consider donating.
This party is now costume optional! Prize for best costume! Come get your Halloween on!
As you may or may not know, Jess is transgender and is in the process of transitioning.
Who knew giving away something could be so costly? But costly it is! So, we’re turning to you, our friends and family, in the hopes that you can contribute as much as you can to aid in Jess getting his top surgery.
I know times are tough and all, so I figured a little help from a lot of people would go a long way!
Oh and did I mention that Jess’ birthday is in September too? It’s a two-fer!
Come have a drink and a snack with us and dance the night away as DJ Alex spins — and give what you can to a very worthy cause: Jess’ happiness!
But wait! There’s more! $1 shots, a costume contest, a 50/50 raffle and a Rent-A-Queer Auction are on tap!
We can’t wait to see you there!
Can’t make it that day? You can still donate! You can send a donation directly to Jess via paypal with a check or credit card via paypal (send payment to webmasterjess@gmail.com).
Or you can mail a check. Email Tina at tinacious.com@gmail.com for details on where to send that.
my head is still all over the place. you’ve been warned.
a friend posted this link, and i was really moved by the photos. many of them are taken in manchester, a place that is very dear to my heart. click through the pictures, they’re beautiful. and they give a sense of how much crap we all have to put up with and worry about, even in one of britain’s gayest cities. for reference, canal street is like the south end of boston, or san francisco’s castro, or new york’s chelsea.
it’s interesting how much i come back to that time and place in my head. i miss it a lot, which of course you all know. my awesome blog buddy sends me boxes of british treats, which simultaneously eases the pain of missing things you can’t get here, and breaks my heart all over again because of the reminder of all the other things i’m missing. the amazing walks in the hills. tea like a brown tide washing over every moment of life. the soft wet air and sparkly sunlight on yellow leaves in the fall. amazing green grass. hedgerows and the most beautiful round oak trees you’ve ever seen. swift, comprehensive train service. potatoes and carrots you can’t imagine if you haven’t tasted them — even fresh out of the ground in my mom’s organic garden they are not as good as you get over there.
but of course, this project reminds me that it’s not all a bed of roses. we didn’t get verbally or physically harassed when we were there, though for the bulk of the time we were very invisible. toward the end, when M. got more butch, we started getting noticed by people. as of course we do now. i just stare back most of the time these days. i’ve considered making a t-shirt that says, “hey straight people — i’m right here — i can see you staring at me!” maybe one of these days…
but i wasn’t going to blog about england. or homophobia. well i’m not sure what i was going to blog about.
i’m desperate for more hours in the day — especially for my schoolwork — but i can’t seem to cut down on my social events. seeing people feels like a lifeline, and if it feels like that it seems like a bad idea to say no. i got three hours of sleep last night, which hasn’t really impacted my day as yet if you don’t count the purple shadows under my eyes. i kind of like that, though. it makes me look more dramatic.
well i suppose it’s relevant to say that i found myself a therapist. you will all probably say “oh thank god, as if she hasn’t desperately needed one this whole time!” well you’re right, and i did it. so there. and i’ve gone three times. and she is helping me so far.
and of course now i am doing even more thinking about my own life, about the choices i’ve made (even when that choice is to do nothing). i think i have often been a follower in certain respects, although many people who interact with me in professional contexts wouldn’t think so. in my personal life, having a voice, being heard and acknowledged, having a space that is my own — all of these things have been virtually nonexistent for me. a few days ago, i pulled a chair out of the center of the living room and put it so it faces the window, with the back to the rest of the house. and as i was sitting in it, doing work, i realized that i had physically cut myself off from the rest of my household. sometimes the cats come by and sit with me, sometimes M. comes in and talks to me, but i’ve finally figured out a way to be less interruptable. and it’s awesome. saying no to things has also been an infrequent option for me, but it’s something i’m working on very intensely. it’s silly of course to pin things only on this new chair arrangement, but i think it symbolizes a new way of looking at things that i haven’t had access to before.
i’ve written here before about not knowing who i really am underneath the characteristics i’ve acquired from or for other people. my music all comes from my partner. i don’t always like what she chooses, but i have purchased or chosen almost nothing for myself for several years. that seems really weird to say, yet it’s true. people have given me things, but aside from that the only music i’ve purchased is an album from my childhood that has more sentimental value than anything else.
as time progresses, and M. dives deeper into her trauma recovery, i am left on the top of a hill looking over the receding waters. under my feet is ground that i don’t know how to walk on. i didn’t know how to swim either. i just held on as the waters flowed around me, unable to do anything but cling to that one spot. i suppose i was waiting to be rescued. but obviously, no one was going to rescue me. M. in a way is the receding water, and its going is helping even as it makes things much, much more difficult. i feel like my new mission is twofold: learn myself, inside and out, so i know which direction to go forward; and learn how to walk and swim, so that i am never left so helpless and optionless again.
it has been oddly comforting to be forced to acknowledge the very real trauma that happened in my own childhood. M. and i are both sort of broken beings, abused and neglected. it’s no wonder we got together so young — we are perfect complements in some ways. my mother once said to me, “your father and i were so damaged, we couldn’t have successfully been with anyone but each other.” my aunt, upon hearing this quoted to her, said that she thought that was flawed reasoning. that each of my parents might have had more fulfilling relationships with people who had more resources to give, who had more grounding and wisdom, who were less broken.
i wonder, of course, about me and M. i wonder if the person who she could love and fit with when she was in denial about her trauma is someone who she will want to be with when she has recovered. i suppose i could ask the same question a different way — is the person who i loved going to change into someone else once this lead weight is lifted from her? these questions are really unsettling. though the current situation is incredibly difficult, it’s still very familiar. just an intensification of a reality that has always been present in our relationship. at the same time, we are both for the first time really trying to handle it differently. this kind of sustained crisis is impossible to ignore. there need to be structured responses so that we (i) are not totally overwhelmed, all of the time. but what if what is on the other side of this crisis is something completely unfamiliar? what will that look like? i try not to borrow trouble, but it does start to make me feel nervous and upset sometimes. after all this, to have this much uncertainty is really scary, even while i know it could mean really positive things in the future. of course that’s why people don’t like uncertainty — it could also mean vast losses in the future. we DON’T KNOW. duh.
i spoke briefly with my advisor on tuesday, and i expressed frustration with all of this exploding all over the place, and how i had so many other plans for this fall, and how they aren’t happening right now. she said you can’t control life. it happens, and you adjust. maybe it delays some things, maybe it helps others. you don’t know, and you can’t know, and you can’t worry about it. just be here now, is basically what she said, and we’re here to help you deal with it as best we can.
did i mention that she rocks? i don’t know how i’d be dealing with school without her.
i need to go and look at my work. thanks for listening. i’ll leave you with the song that gave the title to this post. it has incredible resonance with me right now, and it’s by one of my secret favorite bands (secret because i worry about having too much in common with screaming teenage girls…):
Well this is no surprise at all. If I had to describe myself, this is probably what I would have come up with. I might have ranked gluttony higher, but I appreciate this quiz’s generosity. Courtesy of a new reader. Discover Your Sins – Click Here
just can’t seem to pull together a coherent narrative, so here’s some more randomness.
i just had a meeting with my academic advisor, who was so supportive and generous and kind with me that she made me cry. she basically said that i should do whatever i need to do to take care of myself, and the school stuff can be sorted out. which makes me feel so much better about the impending midterms. frankly, she’s amazing. i feel incredibly lucky to have her in my life right now.
my little sister and i have often mused on the fact that people being mean to us has never made us cry — it’s always the nice things that start the waterworks. is that true for other people? the offer of genuine help & support is just devastating to my sense of self-control.
i am realizing that there is a difference between talking to someone who has had personal experience with the stuff we’re going through right now, and talking to someone who is generally supportive and thoughtful but hasn’t been through this stuff. people who know are incredibly comforting to talk to, and somehow they know exactly what to say.
it’s freaking cold in our house, people. it hasn’t topped 60 in a couple days. and the cat yakked on the blanket. i appreciate that he’s switched his focus from the rug (which can’t be put in the washing machine) to the blanket (which can) but now that the blanket is in the wash, he BETTER NOT get the down comforter, because then how am i going to stay warm???
