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By Rebecca, May 31, 2008 7:08 am

The last couple weeks have been rather crazy. G was in town for a little over a week, and left this morning. She’s working at a camp for the summer, but will be back (at least semi-permanently) in late August. On top of that, we had pickup rehearsals for the show I’m in (oh thank goodness this weekend is the last weekend!) which took up tons of time, and on top of that I moved out of my apartment on Tuesday (living at my mom’s for the summer).

I have a few posts rattling around my brain (about hair removal, living at home for the summer, long-distance relationships, more dreams to transcribe, etc, etc, etc) but they’ll have to wait until I’ve had a bit more sleep and managed to catch by breath…

-R

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By Rebecca, May 17, 2008 6:23 am

I’ve been trying really hard to bike to work when I’m able to. I biked today, but didn’t head home until after the show was done, at about 9:30PM. I have a route that I take to work and another one I take home if it’s late (different streets that are slightly less direct but I feel safer on).  I was in a less-nice neighborhood (in this case, that’s code for ‘poor’ or ‘black,’ depending on your perspective) and a group of black kids was walking on the other side of the street from me. I had a moment of nervousness, then got mad at myself for having an initially racist reaction, then tried to tell myself it was a class issue and that I would have had the same worry reaction to a group of white kids who were similarly dressed. Then one of them jumped out at me, saying “Gimme that!”Don’t worry – I’m fine. He went back to the group and they all laughed and laughed at the way I swerved  and sped up in my panic. So I (apparently) was never in ‘real’ danger.  But, while I’m obviously upset that it happened at all, I’m also A) pissed at myself for having that initially somewhat racist (or even ‘just’ classist reaction), and B) pissed at them for somewhat living up to my poor expectations.

But now I’m all upset and trying to figure out where it’s coming from. I like knowing where my emotions come from, and estrogen isn’t horribly helpful for that… I’m also trying to figure out how or if what happened tonight is linked transitioning issues. I’m watching Six Feet Under (which is a really good show) and  an episode where one fo the characters gets carjacked and then taken forced at gunpoint to take the carjacker around town, and feel like it wasn’t horribly helpful to my emotional stability, particularly because the character who was carjacked was gay and there were lots of calls of ‘faggot’ being tossed around by the carjacker. Likewise, at Julia Serano’s talk, she mentioned the potential dangers of having gender expression not matching legal papers, with asshole cops and the like.

I was just talking with SS, and used the word ‘vulnerable’ about the situation. It really sort of threw me – I wouldn’t in a million years have used it to describe how I felt or am feeling. I’ve admitted to feeling emotionally vulnerable before, but don’t know that I’ve ever said “I felt vulnerable” about a physical fear. I don’t like that that’s potentially a part of transitioning, or of living in the world as a woman (hell, it’s not potentially a part, it’s definitely a part). Again from Serano’s talk, she said some cissexual women (see this post)  will brush off transsexual women’s complaints of feeling objectified or fearful of interactions, as it’s ‘just’ part of ‘shedding male privilege.’ (These are not Serano’s words, and not even her words of other people’s words, just my impression of how some cissexual women see the situation.)

I don’t know. I’m kind of rambling. I’m just unhappy to find an intersection of two of my least favorite things: feeling vulnerable and feeling unsure of where emotions are coming from…

-R

PS – Gods, I like asking questions as the title of posts.

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By Rebecca, May 16, 2008 9:31 pm

Last night I went to see Julia Serano, author of Whipping Girl, speak at Northwestern. I got a lot out of Whipping Girl when I first read it, both in terms of the theory and in terms of having a strong trans woman as a role model.

(For an example of the theory I liked, she divides gender into three spectra rather than simply ‘male/female’ or ‘masculine/feminine’: gender expression, what she calls ‘subconscious’ gender (similar to what’s often called gender identity), and gender identity (what she says is the conscious understanding of subconscious gender). The three spectra allow for a more finely-grained understanding of an individual’s gender than one spectrum ever could. For an example of language in the book I I was and wasn’t thrilled with, view this blog post.)

The talk was good, but a little underwhelming. I realized after that I was hoping to be blown away in the same way I felt Whipping Girl did. However, since the talk was primarily an overview of Whipping Girl, it wasn’t as much ‘oh, wow!’ stuff as I had been hoping for. It was still good, though, and I’m glad I went. She had a couple of interesting slides, like a comparison of MTF-focused books and FTM-focused books, with the covers on the MTF-focused books having much more sexual or objectified depictions of women (presumably trans). Likewise, she shared some anecdotes about her experience as a trans woman, which was also good. The big takeaway, though, was that I should have taken some gender studies classes in college (the event was hosted by NU’s Undergrad Dept. of Gender Studies.)

-R

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By Rebecca, May 16, 2008 9:10 pm

So I’ve been expanding the list of blogs I read daily and a couple of ‘em are about personal finance. The first personal finance blog I started reading, Get Rich Slowly, which is a great blog about its titular topic: how to get rich slowly, but surely. Get Rich Slowly links to a number of other good personal finance blogs, one of which is Give Me My Five Bucks Back, self described as “A recent college graduate’s journey out of debt, and into the world of financial independence.” Most of the personal finance blogs I’m reading are about how to make your bank account grow as easily and (more importantly) as safely as possible. Well, what about getting paid to blog?

The author of Give Me My Five Bucks Back is a member of PayPerPost, which allows advertisers to pay bloggers to write about their product/service/etc. I’m not 100% convinced I’m going to keep doing it, as the concept of mixing my personal blog with things I’m being paid to write does make me uneasy, but I figured I’d give it a shot. I’ll let you know how it goes!

-R

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By Rebecca, May 14, 2008 4:13 am

I’ve been talking with a few of my friends recently about the theatre/performance project I inevitably want to come out of this transition (no pun intended). One of the things I’ve been thinking a lot about is why I want to create theatre based either on my transition specifically or gender and trans issues in general. That is, whenever I’ve worked on a show in the past – whether I’ve directed, adapted, acted in, or worked off/backstage – there’s been something I felt was important in the show that I wanted to be involved in. To use the language of the Workshop, I’ve wanted to further something in the show that was accessable to the “common understanding.” Certainly, I think there should be a ‘selfish’ aspect to working on any project that’s important to you. That is, it should be important to you and you should want to work on it. But I’m worried that this trans theatre project I’m trying to develope is more selfish than not, that I’m looking to use theatre for my own personal therapy.

There’s definitely nothing wrong with using theatre as therapy. But I also want to communicate something important to an audience above and beyond making me feel better about myself. JM sort of beat me over the head when I said that, and I’m forced to admit she’s right: everyone is always undergoing some transition, mine is just a bit more…explicitly labeled as such than many.

The conversation got me thinking about how I’ve identified with basically every strong female figure in fiction that I’ve encountered, and why that is. I wouldn’t exactly say it’s puzzling or shocking that I’ve identified with strong female figures in fiction (tongue-in-cheek) but I hadn’t thought about it in terms of how my story or journey (‘transition,’ if you will…) could be applicable to other people.

More thoughts on this later.

-R

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By Rebecca, May 14, 2008 2:01 am

Yeah, still needs a better title. Shut up.

I felt a gentle pressure on my left wrist and looked down. I hadn’t noticed it in my confusion, but in addition to the nightgown I was also wearing a bracelet made of bronze, or maybe brass.  I couldn’t imagine why I hadn’t noticed it before, as it was slightly too tight and…emitting a pulsating light? Every few seconds it glowed dimly as if illuminated from within. Shocked, I realized that it only felt too tight as it glowed, but I that I couldn’t even feel it on my wrist between the pulses. Loose and dim, tight and glowing. Loose and dim, tight and glowing. I examined it for a seam, a power source, a way to take it off, but could find none. I was trying to contort my hand, bend my fingers in just the right way to slip the braclet off, when someone burst into the room.

“Jennifer, you’re awake!”

“I’m sorry?” I turned toward the large wooden door, flanked by wall-mounted candle holders that I hadn’t noticed during my cursory exploration of the room, to face the speaker. She appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties, younger than me but not by much, with a round face and dark eyes. She was also in a nightgown (hers was light blue) and had dark lines under her eyes.  From the look of her, she hadn’t been awake any longer than I had and been experiencing quite a few sleepless nights. I tried as best I could to get a grasp of the situation. “Jennifer?”

Ignoring my question, she rushed to my side and lead me back to the bed. “Thank the Tower. But Jennifer, what are you doing up and about? You know you should rest, recover your strength.” She sat down next to me and took my hand, patting it like a child’s.

I looked at her, hoping to get some answers. “I’m not sure…I think there’s been some confusion. Who is Jennifer?” I looked into her eyes, trying to read her response.

She gasped, pulling away from me, and in almost a whisper replied, “You are.”

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By Rebecca, May 12, 2008 4:55 am

I know, it needs a real title. So sue me.

It would be cliche to say I knew something was wrong as soon as I woke up.  It also wouldn’t be true, as I’m not a morning person and it takes me a good while for my brain to reboot in the morning: no one should expect any revelations from me before I’ve had my cup of coffee. So while I didn’t know something was wrong as soon as I woke up, I’m quick enough that I knew something was wrong pretty damn quick thereafter. For a start, I wasn’t in my room, the room in which I’d gone to sleep. My room is rather sparsely decorated, with a functional desk in one corner, an overlfowing bookshelf in another, a bed in the third, and a few posters taped to the wal. I’m embarrased to say that my idea of ‘decorating’ is close to indistinguishable form ‘dorm room,’ and my bed had a thin mattress and blanket.

The room I woke up in was a parody of itself: pastels everywhere, with pink as the predominant color, a large vanity on one wall, a huge ornate wooden wardrobe with intricate scrollwork; it was like someone set out to create a real-life suite for a Disney princess. As I said, I’m not a morning person. But when I wake up surrounded by stuffed animals and looking up into to a giant pink canopy, I can tell something is amis. I mean, there were watercolor paintings of unicorns on the wall. Continue reading 'Sci-fi/fantasy mistaken identity forced feminization story (with a twist) pt 1'»

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By Rebecca, May 12, 2008 4:27 am

I’m in a play, and we’re in rehearsals. The space is sort of like a mirror image of the Workshop (which is a description I’m sure makes sense to no one but myself). I’m acting in a women’s role – I think I’m someone’s girlfriend – and I’m pretty excited about it.

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By Rebecca, May 9, 2008 4:58 am

She came to the edge of the forest and saw, at last, the entrance to the temple.  An arch hung overhead, each stone placed as if along a beautiful mathematical formula. Its curve marred the parallels and perpendiculars of the wall, where the bricks created a pattern stretching on to infinity. The stone was cold and cool, and held the secrets of the years. The arch itself was covered in a mosaic of colored tiles, a burst against the muted grey and beige of the wall itself. Some of the tiles had fallen off, their impression still sunk into the mortar, and the pieces littered the packed dirt floor.

She shielded her eyes from the sun, as they had grown accustemed to the dim and dappled light under the trees, and stepped into the field of yellowed grass between the treeline and the rising stone of the temple. The sun began to give her a headache and insects buzzed up about her footfalls. Try as she might to avoid the feeling, as much as she wanted to turn and run into the cool safety of the vegitation at her back, she was drawn to the temple.

Continue reading 'The Depths of the Temple'»

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By Rebecca, May 8, 2008 5:19 am

(Lights up)

Hey! I’m so glad we could finally find a time to get coffee. I know we haven’t seen each other for a while, and I really wanted to catch up.

(Pause)

No, I’ve been doing good. Actually, well, I sort of never know how to do this. I really do want to hear how you’re doing, but I also wanted to talk to you because I want to come out to you. See, I identify as trans, which means a lot of different things for different people, but for me means that I don’t identify as male, but as female. And right now I’m in the process of what’s called ‘transitioning,’ which means I’m moving from presenting myself as and interacting with the world as a man toward presenting myself as and interacting with the world as a woman.

(Pause.)

I – well, I don’t know about that. I actually feel really privileged because I’ve been able to be in a community that’s pretty liberal, so people have been really supportive. And, well, I just wanted to let you all know as well.

(Pause)

No, it’s OK. I’ve actually been on hormones for about a year and am fortunate that they’re covered under my insurance plan.

(Pause) Continue reading 'A One-Sided Conversation'»