I’m still alive, even though I haven’t written a new post for almost a week.

First week of camp at work, and even though I’m in the office it’s still a lot of extra work getting everything together for seventy kids. Everything’s been going pretty smoothly, fortunately, but things have been pretty laid-back at the office for a while so actually doing seven hours of work in a seven hour workday is a shock to the system…

Last weekend I went to my first baby shower, which was somewhat surreal. I think the feeling came from a healthy mix of being one of the youngest women there and one of the few who was not either married or engaged, and of simply not being used to being in such a decidedly “women’s” space. There was also more than a little bit of hearing everyone talk about childbirth and knowing that’s something I’ll never experience.

While at the shower, I spoke briefly with JP, the co-founder of one of the organizations I teach with (the shower was a co-shower for two other women who work there). She is, without a doubt, amazing. Old enough to be my grandmother, JP is nevertheless is empathic and intelligent enough to ‘get’ where I was with feeling somewhat out of place at the shower. She sat down next to me and said, “So this must be somewhat weird for you,” and we were then able to have a perfectly respectful and understanding conversation about how the transition is going. She’s one of the few people who I don’t know really well, but am willing to open up to simply because I’ve never been let down with her responses. I hadn’t seen JP since I came out to her, about eight months ago, and she was just amazingly supportive, then and now.

That made yet another round of “Obnoxious cis questions” from another woman at the shower all the more frustrating.

I’d finished talking with JP and was just sitting, taking everything in, when one of the other teachers turned to me and said, “Wow, Rebecca, I haven’t seen you in months, and you look great! I really want to talk to you about things because I’m just so fascinated by [awkward struggling for words] it all. So have you had a sex change operation?”

You’d think that, after last time, I’d be smart enough to have thought these things through, but no. Once again I struggled to figure out what to say and finally (and, in my mind, unfortunately) answered the question and managed to extract myself from the conversation.

In reflection since then, I’ve decided the first thing out of my mouth after any probing question about the transition should be, “Why do you ask?” I’d probably be willing to engage someone who says, “My sister just came out to me as trans and I’m having a hard time with it,” but am much less interested in opening up to someone who responds, “I’m just so fascinated by it all.” And I think the response to the latter can and should be glib, along the lines of, “Oh, I assumed you were asking about my genitals because we were going to have sex later. But if that’s not the case, it’s not really any of your business.”

(I don’t think the woman at the workshop that I spoke about at the above link deserved a sarcastic response along those lines, and I’m glad that – even if I did answer her question when maybe I shouldn’t have – I didn’t respond with anger or rudeness. But I now do have a few responses in my pocket, like the one about sex, so I don’t have to think on my feet quite so much. I’ve decided, three weeks after the fact, that I should have asked the “transgender experience” woman what she meant, corrected her vocabulary, and told her that I wasn’t at the workshop to be an educational resource.)

I’ve also been stressing about the solo performance I’m ostensibly doing in December, although I got some work done and made some phone calls about space for that today so I’m a little calmer.

I’m volunteering at a gala tomorrow and am majorly stressing about the dress I’m wearing, the makeup (or lack thereof) I’ll have on, how I’m going to do my hair, and interacting with people while wearing said dress/makeup/hairdo. (And stressing about seeing my dad, in particular – he’s going to be there and, while he’s been much better about handling the transition, he’s still not as accepting as I’d like him to be.)

(Pictures of the gala getup will be forthcoming in one of two cases: I look amazing, or I get home really drunk and post pictures without thinking it through.)

On top of all that, I’m super congested. I’ve finally found a concoction that seems to let me breath most of the time (Allegra D, Zyrtec, Astelin, and prayer) so that’s a little better. The rain has helped clear some of the gunk out of the air, too. Unfortunately, the one thing that really works – nasal spray with oxymetazoline hydrochloride – isn’t supposed to be used for more than a few days, or it starts to eat into your brain (or something…I’m not a doctor).

And, of course, the hour I spent outside last night left me with a half-dozen bug bites. Itchy itchy!

I need a weekend from my weekend, without a doubt…