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Well hey its only been about a year since I last posted... 'I've been busy' is no excuse, I know. So, here we go...

Me now :

I think I pass 99% of the time now. Passing is an odd thing. On so many levels it feels so right. I mean, I feel I am male so why shouldn't everyone else see me that way.

Then there is this one level I cannot seem to escape... and it is sort of political and sort of personal. It goes like this in my head.....

As much as I may wish I had been born male, I wasn't. I am transgender. To pass as male is to somehow discount my trans identity. (political) But I don't want to be trans, I feel male....can't I just be a normal guy? (emotional)

As I argue this in my head, I am also faced with real world situations where I find myself totally accepted as male, yet feel an urge to say, 'I am trans.' And situations where I'd rather just be accepted as male and yet am known as trans.

Both these things came up at a library conference I attended last week.

First of all, it is my work world.. professional colleagues, future employers, who knows... However, some have known me a long time (long enough to have known me pre-transition) Others I am meeting for the first time.

I tend to be quite an open person. I also have a mouth that tends to speak before my brain has fully reviewed the statements I am making. Oddly enough this lead to a few instances of me outing myself as trans. I could have avoided them - danced around the moment of the conversation, but I felt like I would have been cheating to not speak about who/how I am. This inevitably swirled around in my head hours later... Other people don't go around talking about their identity, why do I? Why do I out myself and then regret it? Other people will certainly not know if it is cool to talk about or not if I can't even make up my own mind.

I think the answer for me is me claiming my trans identity.... and working for a world where it doesn't matter to anyone, then I can sit back and be seen purely as the man I am.

Correspondence

Hey there M-, I am down in Santa Fe for a friend's 40th b-day. It is good to see folks. Two of my friends are breaking up. It is hard to watch. The whole group of friends loves them both. They love each other and I guess that is the hardest part. Anyway I guess I am also contemplative today. I was talking to a friend last night about how well my life is finally going (knock wood) and how much the break through of deciding to transition was a part of that. The previous bunch of decades I tried to get my life together but without dealing with the proverbial elephant in the room. I have always said the only thing I want to be when I grow up (or at least grow older) is a better person to myself, others and the world at large - and the only thing I want on my tombstone is gold stars for effort (like the kind they handed out in kindergarten). Becoming that better person has not been easy. This will sound kinda dumb-ass but I was thinking about the wedding (I proposed to Liz.) and all the traditions and rituals and what they mean and what is cultural dirty bath water so to speak and what I need for it to seem 'like a real wedding' or whatever. I was thinking about the whole getting walked down the aisle thing. I don't like the idea of dad passing girl to husband, but I do like the idea of family helping get you there - of course my dad would have no part of my wedding (him not approving of me and all) but I realized he wasn't who got me here - it was me, and it was my friends, who are like family. They helped me become a more decent person (some friends have helped me change my whole world.) So then I was thinking well if all my friends walked me down the aisle it would be a logistical nightmare. So, I decided to contemplate why my friends helped me and why I was able to work through shit even when it was hard and I realized it was the same core belief I have that makes me a political activist willing to walk across the country. I believe in change and that the future can be better. I realized I have to have Emma, my 3 1/2 yr old niece, walk me down the aisle because it is the future people and the future world that motivates me to be the best person I can. So, friend, if you made it through this missive just know there are good reasons to get through whatever you are getting through and there are folks who care about you and want the best for you and from you. It may be a fuck of a path but it is yours - so decorate it with the beauty that is you. - love to you - Kieran

Boxes

Last week was a week of boxes of the physical and ephemeral sort. I went to the last of three library conferences that I was presenting at – this one a lot closer to home. I saw a lot of friends, old and new. I really have met some good folks in my life, and in libraryland, and at conferences. I also saw a few folks that hadn't seen me since I started transitioning. Most of them were fine about it, some were not. One lady wouldn't talk to me even when I asked her a direct question. (kinda awkward.) The thing that got me was that I cared. (spent some time pondering that.) One fellow I had just met kept calling me 'she' even when all the other people around us kept saying 'he'. (do I look like a girl?) I was with so many good folk though it was easy enough to blow off the ones that couldn't deal. I switched boxes in their minds – girl box to boy box. I understand the effect on others, but to me it is like they finally get to see the box I have always been in - or the lack of box that I have for the whole gender thing. Right before I left for the conference, a patron, who had asked me a LOT of questions about transitioning last month, cornered me again with some real odd questions and statements. She told me I should accept the diversity of myself, of my own feelings and remain female. (??) I often feel in this process that I need to have to be some sort of educational tool for people. ('tool' is feeling like the keyword lately.) I mean it is a small town in a rural area – folks like me don't happen in an out sort of way around here much. And I am a librarian – a job in which information is given to folks to educate, enlighten and entertain. But really - I should accept the diversity of me?! Umm I do. (you're the one having the problem with it.) Then she asked me questions about my girlfriend and how she could possibly deal with this... umm because she loves me..umm... as me. (sometimes I just don't know where to start.) I gave her a book and spoke in general terms about the ideas of gender vs. sex vs. sexual orientation. (sometimes I feel like a freak show.) A few minutes later the lady from the knitter's group, that I told I was transgender last week, came to report to me that she had talked about it with several of the ladies from the knitting group and they have decided that they like me for who I am and that the reason the gossip network didn't spread the news for me in this instance was because it was the truth. (sometimes I wish I was a fly on the wall so I could hear these discussions about me that other people have ...Not!) The thing I try to keep in mind is the intent. Granted the road to hell is paved with good intention, but at least they are willing to discuss it with me. (unlike those who won't discuss it.) Discussion leads to educational moments. (fuck, I hope that is true.) The weekend found me with my girlfriend packing and carrying boxes of the physical sort. (much easier than ephemeral ones.) I am figuring out how to tell my story; I have to believe that by knowing my story people will find a place in themselves for people outside of boxes and boxes without labels.

Springtime

Bright golden yellow, lush green, dark cherry red - I awoke with these colors and warm trippy sort of happy feeling. I love Spring...and I have fallen in love (it is a good combination). I got up and went to the main house. Could have stayed in bed all day, snuggled in the blankets and dreaming... Apparently Emma was having the same sort of idea - the bed part. Being a Tuesday, and her being 3 yrs old, I was going to take her to playgroup. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was get out of her pj's... to the point of kicking and screaming. Meanwhile, there was a chill in the air so Deb threw some wood in the wood stove. Some sort of downdraft happened and the house filled with smoke at about the same time as Emma was being put in a timeout. So the time out was outdoors, when suddenly a bird flies down and hits the window. Dead bird, screaming child, wood smoke.. ahh spring. Emma stopped crying, all her focus going to the bird. The smoke cleared. Emma got dressed and in the car and for the next 20 minutes I learned her 3 year old's perspective on death and missing people and silence and what it means to live and love. I mostly listened. I am pretty sure she has it more together than I do - I learned a lot. I reminded her that I loved her and she said she 'already knew that'. I told her not to forget and she said she wouldn't because I remind her all the time. The whole thing made me wonder why either of us had gotten up. Why couldn't we have stayed in our pj's and in the bright color dream world? Instead, she is at playgroup and I am at work and tonight there will be a funeral to bury the dead bird... if the cat or dog doesn't get it first.

It is not a secret

Had a very interesting staff meeting the other day – right before I left for a library conference in Greeley. The interim director kinda got on a roll and told me I should choose a more common male name because Kieran was too close to my old name and not manly enough. It was confusing people she decided. The children's librarian agreed and they decided they would start calling me Kent. There had also been an issue with a patron who got a bit confused at the change from 'she' to 'he' in reference with me, and while the circ staff dealt with him he got rather loud and I guess in the interim director's mind this was somehow all my fault. She decided I should tell more patrons 'the truth' so the rest of the staff wouldn't have to. I left for the conference 20 minutes later. I didn't speak out at the staff meeting, deciding, rather, to think about what they said and see if I could figure what the real problem was. Thought about it a lot. It was nice to be at the conference where everyone uses my new name and says 'he' without much error. I decided that what was really going on was a combination of the interim director being uncomfortable a bit and not wanted to 'explain' to other folks and it being hard to remember my new name. All of which I understand. But renaming me – not ok! I also didn't feel real comfortable being told to tell people. I got a bit worked up about the whole thing honestly. But I went to a workshop on communication and I talked it out with my old (3 bosses ago) boss and felt better and prepared to speak with the staff. I did decide that the gossip in my small town was apparently not as wide spread as I had though. I obviously do need to sit down with more folks an explain the whole thing. The interim director wanted me to tell the knitter's group that meets in the library which I did try to picture in my head – like a group announcement “You are probably wondering why I have brought you all together today...”. Not my style! So I figured out one lady in the group (who has a big mouth and is very nice) and I will tell her. She hopefully can spread the word. It is like the ONE time I was hoping gossip would work in my favor, but no. I mean it isn't and can't be by the nature of it all be a secret and I do understand it is my responsibility to speak up.... it's just sort of awkward – especially at work – especially since the last three directors have told me NOT to tell the Board of Trustees. I think I am going to tell Nancy (the Board member everyone seems to kowtow to) I am pretty sure she has heard it through the grapevine and I think I need to tell her directly as a matter of respect. I think people get one of those “well until I hear it from him, it isn't true” sort of attitudes. In all my mental preparation for telling everyone, I realized I feel more comfortable saying “I was a 'girl' and now I am a 'boy'”, rather than 'woman' and 'man'. Perhaps it is something about the phrase 'I am a man'... (yet another thing for me to think about I guess) So when I got back from the conference I spoke with the interim director and it went well. She even said that she had felt like she had been bullying me. I also told the cover ladies. They were great. They said, “Well you aren't the first and you won't be the last.” I thought that was a good response. The knitter lady didn't come to the last knitter's group so I have another weeks reprieve. I think I will sit through the communications workshop again...maybe I will catch on. I think part of it has to do less with speaking up (which is generally not a problem in my world), but with doing so in a manner that lets the other person feel comfortable and not threatened. I am trying to be educational... may or may not be the right tactic.

Personal vs speaking up

There are a lot of volunteers at the library. Mostly they are older; mostly they don't stay more than a few months. There are exceptions. Two ladies - we call them the Cover Girls - faithfully come in once a week and cover all the books. They have been volunteering for two years. They started as a commitment for Lent. Yeah Lent. One is the mother, and the other her daughter. The mother is in her 70's, the daughter in her 50's. They refer to me as she, and I hadn't said anything. So yesterday when the new elderly couple wanted to volunteer and cover books came in to learn how from the Cover Girls - it felt like a train wreck. The elderly couple read me as male, the Cover Girls kept saying she and correcting them. The older man was visibly confused, I think he thought they were all referring to different people. The part I don't understand is how I did nothing. Seriously. I just sat there ignoring it all. My face felt flushed and I don't think I could have spoken. After they left, the staff and I were sort of joking about it. The assistant director said to me that I needed to deal with it. Buck up and just tell the Cover Girls. Then we joked about how it might give the mother a stroke or heart attack. Then we joked about how religious they are. I have never felt so much like a damn chicken shit. I have been thinking about it all night. I mean I am a fairly open person, I am fairly outgoing. I have no fucking idea why I find this so intensely personal. I mean, hell, I am blogging about it...on the world wide web for heaven sakes. I feel fine answering questions about my transition most of the time. It's the walking up to basic strangers and slight acquaintances and starting the conversation that just freaks my shit. Correcting peoples pronoun usage or saying something like, "um.. so yeah, I used to be female, but I am not any more." is all it would really take. Yet I find myself sitting there, choked up and beet red. I have never felt so lame in the personal accountability department. I thought at first it was fear of being fired or something, but I really don't think that would happen anymore. It's just fear. I find that unacceptable. So I guess I just gotta pony up. No one else will respect the pronouns if I can't. So next week I will possibly shock an old lady. I'll live...hope she does.

Pictures

Before After Somewhere in between.... Yeah, so the mustache is looking less 'junior high', but still I am a hairless sort of person, so it isn't really full. Speaking of hair...more and more of it grows in different places. The hair on my belly is now about as hairy as my legs used to be - and the legs are hairier. I don't think I look all that different... but I always just see me.

body chemistry

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I had a farm in Africa.... ok no. (but two good movie lines!) I used to be a vegetarian; am not any more. Haven't been for awhile. Don't normally eat a lot of meat....until lately. I swear if it wasn't a cow 20 minutes ago, I probably am not interested. I have never felt this sort of craving for beef. I figure I am needing protein. I know they (drs) warned me that I could gain weight on testosterone, but I don't think I have.... my fat did migrate around from my hips to my belly (weird) but I went down a pants size. I don't know. Funny thing is that I feel hungry more often and more vehemently, in that gnaw off your arm or feel week sort of way. I never used to eat breakfast (as long as I had coffee) now if I skip breakfast I am famished by 10 am. Of course this may or may not be related to the T. L & D have commented on how my face has changed. I have been taking a photo of my face every month. It is kinda interesting. Hmmm... I should blog those pics... ok I will....tomorrow...must eat lunch now.

Grilled

Yesterday was a conversation filled day. Lot of people stopped by to chat. Most wanting to have the conversation in which they tell me all about transgender people and expect me to lay my life down for examination and judgment. Mostly that's ok with me. I mean I get it. It is a different sort of thing, and outside of talk shows there isn't much of a possibility to hear/see someone like me in person. Human nature. Curiosity. I get it. And I also understand that the folks (patrons) who see me everyday at the library are wondering what is up, and they work up the courage to ask. Some ask my co-workers, some ask me. But I must admit it is challenging my fear level. Which was why, when I read my horoscope (which I generally don't do) I was busted up laughing. "You might feel as if you're getting hit with a double whammy today as your key planet Venus leads you into a very intense interaction with someone who makes you anxious. Facing your fears, though, can be a good way to grow beyond the acceptance of what feels safe. Remember, even if the going is tough now, the transformations ahead can bring you closer to your long-term goals. " So - there was a blog post a few months ago that I didn't post. It felt too.... too... I don't know. Well here it is and then I will follow up on it, and maybe that will make me feel better about it. "I have been really stressing this last week, (ok two and a half weeks). Truth is I have been afraid. Fear fucking SUCKS! But there it was, I was afraid. I know there are laws against being fired for being trans. I also know I wouldn't wanna work where they wished they could fire me, but couldn't because of some law. I know my coworkers are cool enough with it all (some of them even try using the new name and pronoun), but I know that some of the board are fairly religious and one of them is definitely homophobic... I was thinking I would write them a letter. I spent a few days writing, rewording and pretty much deciding in my mind that I would be fired....fired from the best job I have ever had. Hell I even got pretty dang fucked up one night and did the horrible depressed drunk routine on some good friends in Pueblo. I tried thinking up positive spins...I could go back to college and get that MLS! I was trying to play it cool but I was losing my shit honestly. Then I had a conversation with my old boss and friend and she reminded me that the new boss might have my back and that what I am doing is a really big thing and it is okay to ask for help, advise and assistance. Right...I hate when I forget that. I can easily fall in to the feeling that I have to do it all myself and that I am some sort of loser if I need help. So I spoke with the New Boss. She has got ideas, strategies even. I am still a bit worried..but not too bad. Of course part of it was work and part of it is the whole small rural town angle. Quite a few people have been making comments to me about my voice and lame little mustache. Not all of them have been friendly. I am catching strange looks. I also have that whole interior mind babble going on." Yeah - fear. So since then, I relaxed some. I haven't had much luck talking to the folks on the board, but we all agree I do my job well. The new boss and the old boss both advised me not to write a letter to the board. I still am not sure if that was good or bad, but it is ok. The library part of my life is ok... But there is one guy who comes in a lot. He has made it clear that he hates gay people, people of color, etc. I keep it professional. He and his friend have asked my co-workers if I am really a guy. He is the fellow I see in my head - when I am afraid - wielding a baseball bat. So when the ever so curious woman was asking me 957 questions and i was talking to her out front of the library and that guy and his friend showed up - well yeah I was afraid. I get two things in my head simultaneously - 1)It is in my head, not real & 2) Shit like what I fear does happen. I question myself... a lot.. what is watching my back and what is unreasonable fear. How do I know? I am not normally a scared person. Really had no trouble being a dyke around town. Why am I letting myself be afraid now? It is the interior mind babble. And I will get over it. Sometime stuff is just hard and scary. Today I go to lunch with a librarian friend from another library who is VERY VERY christian and tell her I am trans. Should be fun.

Walking

I was on two cross-country walks. One in 1990 & one in 1992. I get parts of them confused with each other sometimes. They were different. Organized differently, going different directions, different reasons, different (for the most part) people. Yet oddly similar. Sometimes they blend in my head. The first walk was the Global Walk for a Livable World. I was on the first phase – Los Angles to New York. The walk went around the world to Japan. The simple part to describe is the logistics. 150 people. 15-20 miles a day. 9 months. There was a kitchen trailer, a potty bus (150 people cannot shit in the woods, nor all use the toilet at a kwik mart), a gear bus (yes backpacks, tents and sleeping bags were carried for us), a small refrigerator truck, an office, water trailers... infrastructure. The harder part to describe is the effect it had... on me and others. I was young, full of myself, eager and righteously angry. I wanted to change the world. The world changed...few people noticed. My world at least. Change. When I think back on it, there are a few overall concepts that stand out for me. Physicality is a large one. There was no chair to sit in, no couch or recliner, no table, no TV, no night stand, no bed. A tent, a sleeping bag, the entertainment of your fellow travelers and a lot of outdoors. I was so in touch with the weather and the moon and the climate and seasons - without even thinking about it. Just living so... outdoors. Strange as it may sound, there seemed more hours in the day. Enough to do your job (walk), eat and take care of chores, have some alone time, some hang out time, and still there was evening entertainment and a good nights sleep. I miss the time to just BE now a days, like there is always more to do and less time to get it done. People, and interacting with them, were a large part of the walk. Singing with people is one of my fondest memories of the walk. 15-20 people singing together, a five part harmony in a bathroom in a town I don't remember the name of (or was that the second walk), two women singing a song without words, a flute, guitars and heartfelt lyrics, a bar and a band and a reason not to die. I think I realized the beauty of music and that it was open to all who dare try it on that walk. Wanting that feeling back is why I started to play guitar years later. Intensity. All the time you didn't spend watching tv or whatever, was spent with people which, well, its like time dilated. Intensified. A day 'walk time' was like a week in the real world. I learned to be brave on that walk. In the sense that I learned to try things I had never done before without hesitation. I remember getting in to drive the refrigerator truck for the first time. Reading the faded sticker on the back of the visor on how to double clutch when using the split shift rear axle button and just doing it.... maybe I didn't learn to be brave I learned to be brash. I learned to assume I could do and succeed rather than to assume I was a fuck up.

Thought it all through

I went to a convention last week (ALA Midwinter - for you library types). I realized as we drove up, that this was the first extended excursion I have taken without bringing 'Emergency supplies'. Emergency supplies being the stuff I could use to live on the side of the road if the car broke down. Literally. Before in my world, if ones vehicle broke down, it was quite possible that the closest podunk of a town was now home, and finding work to afford a part or mechanic was next on the list of things to do. While I have known that time in my life is gone, I still had that fear. A kinda of, "Well, you never really know" feeling has lurked in my head. But I think I am done with it. I think, on some primal level, I know I am ok. It has been a while. Similarly, related to my transition, I feel a wholeness that I don't think I ever had before. As far as physical changes go, I haven't noticed anything drastic in awhile. I think there are subtle things afoot, but nothing I can point to or measure. I am becoming more relaxed with how I look and how I am perceived. A young friend of mine pulled me aside recently to tell me I looked like a normal professional fellow. (I was wearing a tie) 'Yeah, I do', I thought, 'just a normal dude in a tie'. I feel less connected with drama - not plays, but stuff like inter-office dynamics. Oddly enough, for the first time in longer than I care think about I feel as though I could be in a relationship with someone. And I mean more than just an 'I am horny' sort of way. Heh - by changing so much about what I am I am finding who I am... kind of ironic. On the professional side of my life things are good. The board member who thinks trans folk are icky has been working with me on stuff without too many prickles. I think my wild library skills have been paying off, and that is outweighing the whole fear of trans folk thing. No job pressure there ;) But seriously I have been kicking some butt in my work world. Things are looking up.

Yeah, I write a library column for the local paper...

Kieran's Notes from the back room : For those of you caught unaware of the anniversary of a major event of our times, let me let you in on the big news. It is the 20th anniversary of the release of the first “The Sandman” comic book by Neil Gaiman. Yup, indeed, a milestone. I remember it clearly. It was the cover art that attracted me, then the story knocked me to my knees. “The Sandman” had a 75 issue run – that is 6 years of continuous publication, one issue a month, one chapter at a time. It may sound like hyperbole to say that “The Sandman” changed the face of the comic book industry but, “The Sandman” became a cult success for DC Comics and attracted an audience unlike that of mainstream comics: half the readership was female, many were in their twenties, and many read no other comics at all. It was not your typical adolescent boy comic book fare. By the time the series concluded, it was outselling the titles of DC's flagship character Superman. Outselling Superman, dang. See, the thing about “The Sandman” that was really different was that it wasn't about superheros. It incorporated elements of classical and contemporary mythology, and ultimately placed its protagonist in the role of a tragic hero. But no tights and cape, no good guy vs. bad guy motif, just classic storytelling and hot illustrations. Twenty years ago, it blew me away, and still does today. I guess that is what makes it a classic. You can find many classics in our library, and you can find “The Sandman” in the graphic novel section. Come by the back room next time your in the library and tell me about your favorite classic novel. Oh, by the way, Thursday December 18th we are hosting a holiday party. Stop by between 4-6 p.m. and eat, drink and chat with the library denizen.

5 1/2 months of Testosterone

Well, this last shot of testosterone seems to have kicked in the growth of body hair. My stomach and chest have gotten hairy. I looked at some older photos of myself, comparing them to now, and I can see some changes. Yes, changes other than the junior high-esque mustache! I guess, because I see myself everyday (or because I see myself in my head - like what I think I look like rather than what I may or may not actually look like) I hadn't really paid attention to or seen the changes. I am always me as far as I am concerned! However, my face looks squarer, brow heaver, less cheek more jaw or something. I haven't really noticed any changes in my mood or temperament, but again I may be too close to notice for sure. I do seem to require more alone time than I used to, but it is hard to know. 13 shots so far - every two weeks. I am anxious to start the process of having my breasts removed. I have never had any sort of major surgery before... other than wisdom teeth removed. I would however like to stop having to bind my breasts every frigging morning! It just isn't comfortable - physically or mentally. Guess I should start saving my money up for a surgery! I was at a library conference in Denver last week. I was pleasantly surprised when I ran into a casual acquaintance who introduced me to some other folks using my new name and 'he' pronouns. I didn't even know he knew. Gossip must travel farther and wider than I guessed! I was kinda grateful. I know I need to find ways to say to people "hey i am 'he' now" in some fashion or another....it's just sort of hard. It was nice to just talk about library stuff with him and his friends rather than to have to start a conversation about me being transgender.

The whirl wind of october

I wondered to myself why I hadn't been blogging lately considering there was so much going on. Then I said "duh" because there is so so much going on. So what has been going on. Gossip about me transitioning has made the rounds around town. It has made for a few awkward moment. I have answered fairly personal questions to folks I don't know well. I have deflected some with humor. Lynn, Deb and I did have a good laugh at one woman, who never stops talking, being literally speechless after she asked me if what she had heard was true. The one board member of the library that everyone was just sure would find a way to have me fired, found out and so far nothing has happened. I am focusing on the here and now, trying not to stress at the possible actions of the small minded. I do my job well, I believe that is all that is relevant. I have realized that doing this in the eye of my rural community might require of me more openness and more competent explanations than I feel I have. This quickly kicked the librarian side of me into action. I watched a few intro to trans videos and read books aimed at allies looking for ways I could help others. I am getting back on my game. I keep the quote I read on Jennifer Finney Boylan's website, "It is impossible to hate anyone whose story you know" - H.S. Boylan in my head, while I search for a balance between my story and my personal business. I am also trying to learn not to take things personally. Boy oh boy is that hard! When I went to vote, an older woman had a really hard time reconciling my legal name with my body. She finally called a few others over to giggle with her and stare at my ID then she announced that I had a pretty funny name for a guy. I decided it was : a) time to change my name legally and b) a testament to how much I am passing. My I must admit my first reaction was fear and embarrassment. Fear that I wouldn't be allowed to vote and embarrassment having three little old ladies laughing at me. I am over it. Yeah, it is really going well overall. Most folks whether or not they understand are at least giving me the room to do what I gotta do. I appreciate that in this community. Meanwhile I face another winter in my camper. I am getting more done on my house a wall might happen before the snow flies!!

Black Goo and my brain

Imagine if you will a cement room with a big steel door and a spigot coming out of the wall. When I was little there was no door and the tap was on. Lots of Black Goo ran out of the tap. It was all the shit others said about me or what made me feel bad about myself...the shit dad would yell while he slammed me on the floor and dislocated my shoulder. Since then I built a door. Got the tap turned off and sump pumped out the room. When I feel shitty 'bout myself the tap dribbles. Now when people tell me who or how or what I am is bad, it is like they pry the door open and run for the tap. I have to shove them out of my room and close the door. Then I have to muster up the strength to turn off the tap and haul out the sump pump Some people have keys to the door. .. but like the deal with N. and the board of trustees at work...me not being able to tell them that I am trans - cause they will freak.... People I really trust telling me that the board will find a way to fire me if they find out. It opens the door... It makes me think I am that Black Goo. Sometimes I am a zombie doing the bidding of others... opening my own door and starting the tap. It is fear. Lack of self-esteem. Self-loathing. Goo, icky Black Goo seeping into the room. My room. Me.

"I know I can be an asshole too, but I didn't come here to fight with you"

I haven't been doing well this week. It is a long story full of self doubt, maybe I will blog about that some other day. This morning L - my landmate, called me an asshole - before I even had had coffee. She didn't actually say asshole, just that I was very condescending about how to do stuff on computers with her and well it was a tirade. It may or may not have been deserved. But the thing I wanted to say about it (and why I bring it up in the first place) is that normally after such an interaction I would cry while alone in my car driving to work. Today I wanted to beat on my steering wheel. I sort of got teary but what I really felt was the cathartic experience was a much more physical manifestation than what used to be my normal. A transman friend of mine said he didn't cry much any more... now I know what that feels like.

Right this way Sir-ma'am

Judy wants me to blog her mistakes. We are traveling to two library conferences this week and doing a lot of talking and introducing ourselves. She feels guilty for getting my name and gender wrong. I keep telling her it's ok. She is making an effort and gets it right 80% of the time. [She says she gets it right 50% of the time and that me saying 80 is generous.] I think, as Jennifer Finney Boylan wrote 'unlearning is hard'. It has been interesting traveling out of the small town where most everyone knows me. I have been 'sir' to most all clerks, flight attendants and waitresses. Kinda nice. I even used the public men's room. Weird little things that make me happy. Passing is a weird thing. It is nice to be seen as I feel. Now I just need to figure out what being a man means in this world and in my head and heart.

Right...they are doctors because they went to MEDICAL SCHOOL

So I fucked up... Yeah it was stupid and no as a matter of fact I won't do it again. See I was thinking (I do that occasionally) with my testosterone shots, being that 10 cc's of the stuff come in a bottle and I take 1 cc every two weeks except for the first time...the first shot was only ½ a cc. And that, in my highly mathematical mind meant I would have a ½ cc “extra” in the bottle and well I might as well use it. Yeah, well I was thinking ½ a cc was hardly anything. I was thinking it would maybe speed everything up. What it did was make me hyper emotional. Made it extra hard not to fly off the handle. It only lasted a few days.

Learning 2.0

Yeah so I went to a workshop for library stuff.... The presenter is someone who met me awhile back. Regardless of how I look now and what my name tag says she is 'she'-ing me. I didn't tell her any different..she couldn't know..not her fault by a long shot. But I watched a few of the other attendees look at me as the presenter said something about no men in the class. I guess this emphasizes the need for me to talk about being trans in front of people. Blagh. I just sort of freeze up. I keep thinking that if I look different people will just get it. This is proving untrue. I think for me this is less about learning podcasting, blogging and such and more about 2.0ing myself. I don't really know how to go about it I guess. "Hi I am trans. Pls refer to me as male." Yeah right. Gawd. How do I start?

Another day in library tech land...

History of my world, part 2.

Physical transformations (if ya don't wanna know, don't read it) This morning was the 7th shot....week 14. Two days after each shot I feel like something changes. I wake up and poof there is hair somewhere or or something like that. The first thing I noticed after my very first shot was clitoral grow. Sure as shit that thing grew! It was almost uncomfortable honestly. Definitely had me squirming. 12 weeks into this and my clit is about the same length as the tip of my thumb to the first knuckle, and about as wide as my thumb. I never measured it before testosterone, so I can't tell you how much it grew – and I don't think it is done growing. I have always been practically hairless. Light colored fine hair on my arms and legs. I never shaved my legs – it was never necessary and not something expected in my peer group. Now I have noticed the hair on my whole body is slightly different. It seems to be longer than it used to be. There also seems to be more of it growing in....probably noticeable only to myself. There is hair on my face, a lame little junior high mustache. After the third shot, my skin was suddenly greasy. I have very dry skin normally. Since then I have had a few zits, but not much. I have had more energy and I feel stronger – not that I could lift more necessarily but like I can carry Emma around longer before my arm is tired – lucky Emma! I also have noticed more definition on certain muscles – again probably noticeable only to me. As far as my voice goes, it was about 8 weeks into it when I kinda felt like my voice sounded rougher. As if I had been shouting at a concert all night or something, but not sore. It was also that week that one of the people I live with called me on the phone and didn't recognize my voice because it sounded deeper. Of course everyone in town just asked if I had bronchitis or a cold!

Interlude:

I am bleeding again. Menstruating. It is so wrong. It feels.....I am not sure how to describe. A friend asked me recently if I missed menstruating... I must admit to never even considering missing that. I guess some women enjoy it, or somehow gather a feeling of completeness with it or from it...I can't fathom it. What is going on in my head seems weird, even to me though. I mean, well I don't remember when I started menstruating, but it probably has been a good 26 years that I have been doing this on a monthly basis and now I am utterly freaking on it. I never liked bleeding, I never could even track the dang process – period amnesia I guess you could say. I knew it would happen time and time again, but I couldn't think about it, couldn't even count 28 days forward. Now it is utterly unacceptable. It is a mentally odd feeling to consider a process happening in my very body inappropriate, like a cancer or something. I know I have been a bit moody these last few days. I thought it was the testosterone, ironically it was probably the estrogen. Or maybe I was pissy because I was pissy - regardless of the hormonal world my body occupies. Work is a fucking mess! While I was at my doctors appointment and the assistant director (no director yet) was off the library was closed. No - closing the library without even talking to the assistant director just because the computers are down is not acceptable....but docking their pay is gonna start a war. Luckily I am learning to duck and not get involved. On a brighter side one of my co-workers asked me how to pronounce my new name, which is good because even though I have the new name tag, no one around here uses the new name and they always say 'she' and 'her'. I find it hard to correct people.. I don't know.. I keep feeling that if I was passing well enough or something they wouldn't get it wrong...but I think it is less about me and more of a habit. I guess I should mention it again.

History of the world, part one.

An old friend of mine came to visit last night. She's one of those people I just admire and love. We don't write or talk much, but when we see each other it is as if, on one level, not a single day has gone by ...it's just right there again. I really appreciate that. On another level, years have gone by and we have had life changes and experiences. As we spoke, summing up years with simple sentences, I realized her gift of clarity. I mean, I always knew she was a straight shooter so to speak, but she really nailed some stuff for me. I always have thought that without my dear and close friends helping guide me through my life I'd be working at a 10 minute oil change place and drinking to oblivion every night in front of a TV. I think without Jen I'd be there or dead. I admire her strength and her faith in my strength. So we were talking about the transgender stuff (ok – yet again I come out to an old friend and she says “well I am not surprised” - I think I really was the last to know!) and she keeps saying I hope you're writing about this, I hope you are documenting this. And sure I mumbled about my blog, but none of what we were talking about have I blogged. I don't know why, (that is a lie – I do know why). Yup, I am hesitant or embarrassed to talk about the intimate details of transitioning. While I am willing to discuss with friends how T made my clit grow or how my skin has changed I just kinda wasn't sure if I should put it on the blog. Which really makes no sense. So next blog, yes you guessed it 'History of the World, part two' will speak to the physicality of transitioning and some of my perspectives. But now I gotta get to work! We got a new director...she starts September. It will be nice to have a director here again.

swirly colors

My head has been swirling lately. Been taking T for 8 weeks now and sometimes it seems as if nothing has changed. Except I know that it has. I am still in the in between however, being called sir and ma'am in the same breath by waiters. Some kid stuck her hear in my office and asked if I was a boy or a girl. I think transitioning in a small town where I am known by a lot of people will be harder, or at least weirder, than I thought. I was at the grocery store buying an apple for lunch when an old acquaintance walked up to me and said, "I don't know why you are doing this." I said something about lunch and liking apples. She said, no becoming a guy. Then she said we should have lunch some time and walked off. As a friend pointed out to me these things mean the T is working. I guess it is a subtle thing. My head is in fast forward mode and reality plays on in normal time. I have been being way casual at work and with friends about remembering the name change and getting the pronouns changed. I didn't want to make folks worry about making mistakes. Shit I generally stumble a few times with friends' name changes. But I think I may need to reiterate, restate the importance it has for me. I don't know. Work....the board of trustees hired a new director last night. None of the staff has met her yet, but I think we are all excited to shed the extra work we have been doing these last few months. Hopefully the new director will be able to pick it all up fairly quickly. It has been stressful. Genius boy had a great idea of matching the limits allowed for check out to a sort of karma based system. Normally, for example, a patron can check out 3 DVDs, however if they check out materials on a regular basis and return the items in a timely manner, pay fines timely and such they could check out more than 3. Conversely if they often have trouble with the lending rules, perhaps they can only borrow 2. It is an interesting idea we are kicking around anyway. So my goal for the week is to get in my wee little brain the responses for these questions about transitioning. Gotta let go of my fear... hell I don't know what I'm scared of exactly. Just sort of out of sorts.

Reality check

So just as I become utterly convinced in my head that the testosterone is having no affect, two patrons in a row call me sir and young man.

swing sets and smiling faces

My land mates are back! I pulled up and Little E came running at me yelling Uncle Kieran! It was fantastic. Of course she wanted me to push her on the swing before I even had a chance to set down my bags. She told me she missed me when I was gone and I told her she was the one who had been gone. She looked at me all puzzled and said, 'No, I am here." we had a confusing existential moment and agreed we were both here now. Dang I love two year old thinking!

Yup indeed

I feel so much better after a shot of testosterone. More like me. I think many people take who they are for granted. I always knew something wasn't right. I think I am finding right. It is so fucking cool!

On my own

Woke up excited. I get another shot of testosterone today. I give myself a shot of testosterone today. I go up to the main house. L & D & E are all dressed and I am thinking thats weird because it is pretty early. Ah they are taking Jethro the dog to the vet. Early appointment. He isn't well. They get in the car and go. It is 7:30 in the morning and I am alone. I wasn't prepared to be alone. Silly isn't it? I just thought the first time I go to stick a needle in my leg someone would be around – I live with a group of people for heaven sakes...why would I be alone in the early morning. I stop myself and realize it is fear in my head. I make coffee. I grab the Nintendo DS and play brain age. I realize I am stalling. I think of options. I could go to the Dr.'s office. The nurse would glad give me a shot or watch me do the shot. No, I have got to learn this. I could wait. Eventually people will be here. I could go somewhere else... I have friends, hell, I have friends who know how to give shots. No, I say to myself, I am missing the point. Why do I need other people? I am just afraid, and fear is a dumb thing, irrational. I go get the medicine, needle and alcohol pads. I drop my pants and look at my thigh. I know exactly what to do. I consider all the things that could go wrong.. really there isn't much. Hitting a vein would be the only thing, or not doing the prep on the needle right, or --- whoa there, Kieran, STOP WITH THE FEAR. Right. I tear up and decided I will not cry. I will not let fear stop me from doing what I want. Okay. I push the needle in. Actually that part isn't so bad. It is the pushing the medicine out of the syringe that bugs me. It is a thick substance and requires hard pushing of the thumb down on the plunger. The thought crosses my mind that intravenous drug users must be brave...or desperate. And people with Diabetes who use insulin, dang brave. I keep shoving on the plunger. Finished. Clean up. Realize I just gave myself a shot and get nauseous. Sit back down and realize I am okay. Fear is a tricky thing, easier to handle with friends, but conquered often alone. It is not quite 8:30.. I should eat breakfast and go to work. I am on my own and I am ok. Crap, I am crying....maybe I'll cook an egg...

What planet am I on?

So I am OFFICIALLY having one of those days. I am not even sure where to start. The middle - I'll start in the middle (the beginning is overrated). So G (co-worker) says that the board member said, "I don't even really think we need a director, N (other board member) does all the work" I pound my head on the nearest book. I ask if the board member is still here in the building and head off like Don Quixote. Yeah, I am a dumb shit. This is not a new thing. This is why I walked from LA to NY and from NY to the Nevada Nuclear test site; an undying optimism that if I just explain the obvious to people, they will change their thinking. Right. (If it is any consolation to people reading this I am beginning to become a jaded optimist) So I say to the board member, "What exactly did you say to G (my co worker)? Because I want to hear it directly." She repeats it verbatim. I say, "I want a director, granted I want one who does her job, and, by the way, what is it that the board does, I mean you all canceled the long term planning committee, so obviously you don't have any vision for the library." - yeah - god dang I am a dumb shit. "How not to win friends and influence people" by Kieran. Oh well, I said it and, honestly, I meant it...the delivery might have been a bit rough. So now in the story where I have the board member cornered - up comes the current (but leaving) director, who starts yelling at the board member what a lousy job the board does and how N (the other board member) is a piece. Ever so glad I am standing there - not! The 'leaving' director stomps off and I thank the board member for her time (well what the fuck else was I suppose to say?!) See - it all started this morning when the lady at the post office asked if I had a cold because my voice sounded deeper - and I though - sure WTF I will come out as transgender. Heh, not a bad idea per se, but not a brilliant plan on my part. She says but I thought you were a boy lesbian. "A what?", I say . "You know with gay people - there is a girl one and a boy one in each pair." (Some days it doesn't pay to get up in the morning.) So I explain how that isn't necessarily how gay and lesbian people see it and how sexual identity and gender identity are different. She just stares at me with that 'you-are-speaking-a-foreign-language' look. I talk for a few minutes - then she says, 'well I just thought you had a cold' I leave. I get to work and there is a regular patron who wants to talk to me about the directorship. It was a 'why don't you try for it?' moment and I explained how the board asked for someone with a master's degree and how I don't have one and how I didn't think it would be a good idea right now anyway. We start to talking and he says he heard I an taking testosterone to change my gender and he says, "I wish you would have talked to me first. Being male isn't a good thing right now. Especially a white man. It is like reverse discrimination." "What? white men are discriminated against?" I say. Yes he says. OH FOR GOD FUCKING SAKES! You have GOT to be kidding me. I don't know what to say. Really, of all the crap that could be said about FTM, really?! The part I didn't think about until I walked away was how the hell did he know I was transitioning? guess it doesn't matter. Maybe it is the full moon pulling the tide of everyone's brains. I need a beer.

Go & Do

I was playing my guitar tonight and singing – pondering the change in my voice and the eventual changes of my body. In one sense, it feels like a rightness, like I am finally on the right track and in another sense there is a fear of the unknown. I mean, ok, I am not much of a singer, but it is something I do a lot of and is a definite enjoyment to me. And I am sure I will adjust, but – wow – I don't know where to sing right now. My voice slides around looking from melody to harmony and it doesn't always go where I think it is going to go. Yeah and then there is the zits... not too bad yet, especially in comparison to the pox! Meanwhile at the library, we are finishing up inventory, listening in on dysfunctional board meetings and trying to find out who might be the next boss. Koha is doing well though I think J is fed up with all the alterations. I am antsy. Weather it be a product of testosterone, or the time of the year or what have you I am not sure – I just want to GO and DO – the where and the what are an unknown. I feel like the illustration in the book 'go dog go' before they end up at the dog party where they are all driving in a line – focused – but with no goal in sight.

We tried

So there was a contest... we lost but.... We had fun writing and singing and filming it though. I thought we did ok. J wants to do an open mic. I think that could be fun. We need more original songs.

2nd shot

Wow – So I meant to be blogging all the testosterone related events in my world after the first injection but I got busy and I got chicken pox. I am, I guess, one of the few people who reacts oddly to the chicken pox vaccination. Because it is a live virus vaccine, (unlike most vaccines), it is possible to actually get a mild case of pox. Glad it was a mild case! That pox stuff is for the birds! So other than red itchy spots all over my body I don't know that there are any visible changes from the testosterone happening much. I feel great (and horny - good grief, it is almost ridicules how horny I am ! ). L thinks my face is changing, but I think it was a result of my hair cut. I had my second shot (1^st full dose) on Thursday. I have had a definite increase in energy and appetite. The energy is great, but with the appetite, I am a bit worried about gaining weight. Guess it is time to join a gym or some such thing. I think my voice might be changing too.

Work is doing ok. The boss is leaving and a new boss is being hired - so there are some worries (it is not like our board would ever let us have a say in the process or anything...so all we can really do is wait). I hope whoever they hire is at least somewhat computer competent.

First shot of T

This morning at 9:30 I got a shot in my butt of testosterone. I am total riding a high. I am excited! I had to take little Emma (she turned 2 in March) with me to the doctor's office. She held my hand. Asked me if it hurt. I said no, but it did sting a bit! Two weeks from now I go back for another - except I will give the shot to myself and the nurse will watch so I do it right - then I am on my own.

And work changes

My boss got fired. Board of trustees took action. Kind of amazing really. I am stunned.

Oh yea!

Got my prescription for T !!

Notes from the back room - an excerpt from my weekly newspaper column

I have always been a comic book reader, although now I buy them with different criteria than I did as a kid. Back then all the purchases were leisurely and spur of the moment, more likely to happen as a whim on a trip to the grocery store with my ma than as a directed effort to seek out the flimsy, stapled literary pictorial works. I didn't care about the condition of the comics I purchased. Bent, torn, wrinkled didn't matter, it was about the story. The stories got me wanting more narratives. There was something, too, in the actual moment-to-moment experience of reading comics that provided a unique delight. The visual accompanied by the structure and dialog. Yup, the sequential art and the play-by-play narrative. It fostered (and still does) my love of a well-crafted tale. A saga that even stretches out through many adventures with the same characters. When I compiled my list of the ten most influential books of my life there was one comic book on it. (The graphic novel X-men-God loves, man kills). Chris Claremont was the author back then, and I liked that comic so much I went down to the library and got his actual novels. While I liked his novel, First Flight, his comics are so much better. I think a lot of adults brush aside comics as juvenile eye-candy and fluff (and some are, of course so are some books..) But as we approach summer reading and start promoting literacy with kids and other reluctant readers, lets not forget the comic book. Now literary merit is one thing and reading just because it is fun is another, and while comics can meet both of those criteria – yes, it is true there are some comic books that have won actual literary awards – I do want to mention that reading something that is just plain fun has its place in building literacy. For a list of award winning graphic novels that the library has, just stop by the back room and ask me!

Passion Quilt Meme - You can't fly if you don't jump

nobody tagged me, but what the hell I pondered this a bit. I thought of my most favorite graffiti message from a friend of mine - "Nothing matters, nothing - only love." I thought about the words tattooed on another friend's arm, "love > fear". Then I thought about the time in my childhood when I jumped (literally) off a cliff. I believed with all my heart that I would fly. I failed miserably, broke bones in fact. But the jumping - the belief and the commitment and the act of actually jumping - it worked and I flew. This is what I would pass on to children. This is my Passion.

So says the shrink

Spring?! Shit, I was just getting ready to hibernate for the winter!

Ramblings - I have been tuning out lately, letting the buzz and noise of others pass me by while I calmly stick my head in the sand. Are we there yet? Heck, were we going some place? I just feel overwhelmed. I saw a shrink the other day, got a note saying I can have hormones, and now get to see another doctor for some more hoop jumping and then I get what I want (I hope). I have learned through this process that I am NOT a good hoop jumper. I am tired. Looking to the brighter side, I think I am almost done. I am headed off to another conference - the whole staff is going! We are closing the library while the 6 of us go down to Pueblo. I am presenting both gaming and open source. It should be fun. The 2 yr. old that I live with has started to correct both her mom's pronoun errors. Not that L & D make many errors, but Emma correcting them is quite a hoot! I have almost caught up on all the cataloging that has piled up since the library automated! Moved a whole full cart out this week!

little kids are so darn cute

so this kid, maybe 10 years old, asks, "How much does it cost to print something off the computer?" Mary explains the first 5 pages are free and the rest are 20 cents a page. He looks shocked and disgusted, "20 cents! dang! No wonder this is such a nice library!" I am STILL laughing

And another one done

Just got back from another conference. I did well. I co-presented gaming in libraries with Judy and it was a success. We also co-presented open source and things went quite well. 2 1/2 weeks until the next one. I think I got the gear strategy worked out. If I could figure out the sound with out taking the stereo it would be much much more manageable!! There must be a way to run the Wii sound through a laptop! Ahh well, it shall be a quest. Tomorrow I head off to see the therapist...

long time gone

I feel like I have been on a roller coaster this month. The library has been hard. The new boss and the library board...sounds like the title of a bad book, huh. I guess there was a fuss at the board meeting about me going to conferences. Although I get travel and room and board from the conference organizers, they weren't sure I should receive my day's pay. Historically the library has always paid the wage of those at a conference...no one has ever presented before though. I thought presenting was a good thing for the library. Ahh, but the truth leeks a bit and maybe it is just me. Guess they don't want me representing the library. I'd be hurt but I am too busy. Some people just don't know how lucky they are! I guess they desire mediocrity... I simply cannot accept it. So I will just ignore it. Yup. This is me ignoring it. Yup. Meanwhile J. and I have successfully migrated the entire library to an open source ILS, Koha. Thank god we have such a great staff, I tell you what! There have been a few scattered problems with the ILS change over, but honestly it has gone much smoother than I thought it would. J. coded me a new MARC editor :) I love it. Which is where I need to stay...loving my job. Getting sucked into the petty squabbles of ego and control are NOT where I need to be. I love my job, I love the kids and the excitement of video game tournaments and sharing that with other libraries and librarians is my privilege. (I actually think on some level sharing what I know is a responsibility, beyond privilege..but that may be to grandiose for me) I go to the therapist April 8th. Crazy is only a few steps away. The sanest crazy ever.

hitting the big time!

I just got an email acceptance to present at the national small and rural libraries conference in Sacramento California about gaming in libraries!!!!!!!!!! It isn't until September - I am already nervous!

Webcomic 3

I survived!!!

I did two presentations today (back to back in different rooms on different subjects!) The open source presentation was a multiple presenter tag team kinda thing. I think I did well on my part. The time aspect was a bit muddled. I wasn't sure how much time I had and didn't know how deep I could go. It worked out though. We left enough time for question and answers and folks had quite a few. That really helps me gauge where my presentation should be aimed! The gaming presentation was fun! I heard two libraries decide to start gaming - I love when what I am presenting is implemented!! The feedback questionnaires for my gaming presentation were all fabulous (kinda an ego boost!) I had gotten a bit nervous before it started, but I guess that translated into a high energy presentation. well back to the conference... (more later)

Vacation is over

Back to work again. Good to be back, but it was great to be gone. There is a comfortableness in being around old friends, I don't need to explain myself. I did miss the routine of my life...humm, kinda sad isn't it? So I was home for just about 24 hours, and then it was off to the CLiC conference in Grand Junction. I am presenting gaming and open source. It is fun to be hanging out with J and Judy. Presenting makes me a little nervous, but not too bad. Parts of it can be fun. I think I am good at talking randomly to people. And as long as I am presenting on something I am passionate about I can generally keep the audience entertained and following along (I think). The part that make it hard or at least a bit nerve wracking is the feeling that I am doing "The Karen Show!" (unfortunately my name change hasn't taken affect in my professional life - I need to work in that.) I have to be 'ON' I have to be funny and social and pleasant, even if I need a break. I have to be professional - or some variation therein. Strangely enough I feel more and more desperate to start T, to pass a bit more, I guess because I am so 'on display' I want to be seen as I really am or something.

webcomic 2

webcomic

Questions, assumptions and blank paper

The doctor said I has to see a therapist because if I wanted to transition because of a past trauma that was bad, but if I really felt 'that way' then it was ok. I have been thinking about that sentence for weeks now. It totally reminds me of this guy Brad and a conversation I had with him years and years ago about being adopted. Both he and I were adopted, and he had found this sheet of paper stating ten personality traits adopted people have. Being funny was one of them, funny, outgoing, insecure, sexually aggressive, trust issues, ... honestly I don't remember all ten, but they were all along those lines. They gave him comfort, a sense that it was ok to be who he was somehow. They pissed me off. The one about being funny just really pissed me off. I just kept thinking 'no, I am funny because I am funny, not because I was adopted.' I mean, shit, I have met some very not humorous adopted people. I just hate those generalizations. Plus it removes some of who I am and gives it to a situation, a situation that wasn't really my choices or decisions. Then again there is that line from that poem "Stick upon stick has weathered me drift wood. I am as much weathered as I am wood." I can relate to that, I mean sure experiences change a person for better or worse. Wouldn't be much fun if we didn't learn and grow. So am I who I am, am I a collection of experiences on a blank paper, or am I who someone else decides I am or am not? See this is all way too existential. What if I stop being funny, will that mean I am not adopted?

The Caucus

The county in which I live is divided into 28 districts by the democratic party. The districts were divided in to two groups, some to meet in one town, at the elementary school, and the others in the town I live near, at the high school. So off I went to the high school to participate in the great tradition know as the caucus. There were probably 150 people at the high school, and later the democrats reported that there was six times the normal turnout. Of those 150 people, my district had 5 people. The five of us gathered in our designated spot in a corner of a room. We opened our packet and began to read the rules. It was 2 couples and myself in the group. I will refer to them as Ranch man, ranch woman, Mormon man and Mormon woman. So, ranch woman begins the procedure of electing the 'chairman' and 'secretary', when Mormon man interrupts to tell us that he is a Mormon. (Am I suppose to care?) He goes on to explain that he's not voting for Clinton because women are too emotional and not suited to being in charge of things, and that he would prefer that our little group was not led by a woman. I was slack jawed. Ranch man kinda leaned back in his chair with a snicker as Ranch woman attacked by saying that she wasn't going to vote for Obama because you know all those black Muslim men just want to kill us. Managing to close my mouth and regain some composure I said, “oh my god I've time traveled to 1950!” They all stared at me. Ranch man then nominated Ranch woman for chairman, I seconded it and she was elected 3 to 2. That's when Mormon man said he would be secretary. Ranch woman said, 'ok, since no one else is volunteering you can be secretary.' (Uhh, was that a nomination and a vote?) At this point we are suppose to have a straw poll to see where everyone stand before we actually say for whom we will vote. It is already fairly clear with me being the swing vote for either side, as I am the only one who hasn't already said what I think. Of course Mormon man goes first. And I am left for last. I had been kicking the whole Clinton, Obama choice around in my head for weeks, and had decided on Obama. I say Obama and Ranch family glares. Now the next step is discussion to sway people before the actual vote. I say, “I can be swayed if you have information I haven't heard, especially about health care.” So, ranch woman starts telling me how Clinton will be tough on immigration. ....hmm, right cause that'll sway me... NOT! Then Moron man begins to reiterate how emotional women get and says something about how the stress almost made Hillary cry in a press interview. So I say, “yeah, so and when Bill was stressed he got a blow job, who cares?” Well apparently blow job is a bad word. The silence was palatable. Ranch man scowled and said, 'Watch your mouth..” So I quickly recover by saying, “let's just get this shit over with and vote.” “Watch Your MOUTH!”, says Ranch man again. Boy oh boy, I love democracy. We vote. Now I am gonna skip a whole part here about the math skills involved in figuring out how our 5 votes become 3 delegates. But I will say, I probably was a bit harsh to Mormon man the secretary who didn't know how to do math. I harangued him, using my powers for evil, until he snapped and said he had been special ed. in school and really didn't know how to do math. (where upon instead of being compassionate I was evil again) I said, “Well I am sure a woman can handle it.” and I took the paper out of his hands. I thought later about how I played the gender card in relation to his sexism, and realized I am going to need to get a lot smarter on standing up for women, especially when I don't look like one. I left the caucus wondering if the political process was a good thing or a bad thing, wondering if I cared, or if I should take it on. when I got home I told my roommates I didn't want to be a democrat anymore. Deb was kind and persuasive when she recommended rather than me stopping being a democrat, I convince the two of them to become democrats (currently they are independent and green party). Then all 3 of us can go to the next caucus and educate. Deep breath. Educate them. Educate them. It is becoming a mantra.

The Process

Yesterday I talked to a medical doctor about hormone replacement therapy for the first time. Big day. The doctor experience I liken to a road trip. I was packed, the car gassed up. I am ready for the open road. And instead, I hit bumper to bumper rush hour traffic going through the downtown of a large city. Yeah, SLOW. In my head I guess I was on, like step four, and the doctor was on step one. I mean, hey I have been thinking about this and dealing with this my whole life... guess other people don't know that and don't want me to rush. And I am thinking, "Rush? It took me YEARS to get here." So I am getting a referral to an endocrinologist and a therapist. It's all good, and probably smart to carefully step through every hoop between here and there, it's just sort of disappointing. I just want to be done already, not just starting. And therapy? Dang I want out of my head and in to my body. I have been in my head for years, I decided I wasn't crazy, or traumatized and now I have to let a stranger in to walk through my emotional landscape to smell the flowers and judge me . Judge me mentally ill. There's something to look forward to Gender Identity Disorder. Personally I think of it more as a birth defect. Ahh well. So begins the outward journey. Now I am off to the caucus.

Notes from the back room

Notes from the back room: Alright, I am going to get a bit philosophical this week so hold on to your brain cells! It is Love Your Library month and I want to tell you one of the reasons I believe libraries are one of the best things since sliced bread. People, yup, not books, but people (go figure!). Now when I say people, I mean people not just as individuals, but people as a group, a community. Like our town. I chat with folks at the bank, post office, stores, and the library. I try to engage with people and learn about their ideas and about how they see the future of our town, our state, our country and our world. It helps me gain perspectives on different things. Civic engagement has many dimensions. In a year of a presidential election, this is obvious. If you don't vote, then you are abdicating your decision to the people who do vote. One person, who speaks up and votes, gets more of a say in how the future unfolds than the person who stays home. But civic engagement means more than politics and voting. It means taking actions, together, that result in a community worth living in. Sure there may be arguments. We all see things differently, and sometimes we need to discuss our differences and compromise. Everybody has their own “best way” to get things done and not everybody who disagrees with you is a “#%$&* stupid idiot” (believe it or not). And, I know in my head anyway, there is a little voice telling me not to talk about politics, money or religion with people because it is rude or something. As long as the point isn’t to start a fight, then maybe it isn’t rude, but a necessity that creates a better community. Community is about cooperation, about a process of thinking things out and doing something about our problems. And, oddly enough, I think this is where libraries come in to it. Every community has issues, questions, projects and dreams. Libraries can serve as neutral ground for meetings and as public space available to any and all. Not to mention the library is staffed with good listeners and researchers to supply necessary facts for conversations. The library also tries to have a well-balanced collection. (No, that doesn’t mean I can balance it on my head.) A well-balanced collection of books is kind of like a well-balanced meal. Not just the stuff you want to eat, but the stuff, like Lima beans, that you may detest and is Aunt Mary’s favorite. Yup, you can look stuff up at the library. You can educate yourself on topics they didn’t teach you in fifth grade. Shoot, you can even sign up to talk to others about subjects near and dear to your heart. All you have to do is participate. The library is here for you.