This is why I can't study

It's that time of year again. Finals week. Amazingly, I didn't have any finals today. I'm supposed to have two finals tomorrow, but I might take three of them. (I know. I'm such a rebel...) And I attempted to start studying for my film final because if I get a 91 on the last project, which doesn't have a grade up yet, and a perfect score on the final, I can just barely make an A. I don't usually study, but I suppose it's worth it.
Anyway. First chapter I was skimming in my textbook is on audio. All the technicalities of audio, because you can't teach aesthetics in a textbook. You really can't teach aesthetics at all, except as relative to other things and as vague generalizations. Nothing will look perfectly appealing to everyone. But I'm not here to rant about that... Okay. Tell me you know that most audio cables have "male" and "female" ends. Well, they do. It doesn't take much imagination to see why. But XLR cables are not at all obvious. See? Which one is female? Is it the one that, when they're connected, is visible around the other? NO! The other one is female. Because we're not just looking at the arrangement visible when they're connected, but at the actual metal where electricity is conducted. Inside the male-that-looks-like-female end are three prongs, and they go into holes in the female-that-looks-like-male end. And no one ever listens to me when I try to explain that XLR cables are androgynous and that it's not as obvious as it should be. I mean, really. I know what to look for, but when they're connected, they look like they should be opposite. Hmph.
Since we're talking about ways to remember things that don't help me, let me discuss "righty tighty, lefty loosey." The major problem I see with it is that when a point on the top of a circle moves left, the point exactly opposite (on the bottom) moves right, and vice versa. But last time I brought that up and said that we should have a rhyme of some sort to tell us whether it was clockwise or counterclockwise, someone snapped at me that "no one knows what clockwise and counterclockwise are!" Forgive me, but analog clocks aren't that ancient and forgotten. Everyone else I've talked to knows exactly what clockwise and counterclockwise are. *sigh*
And the moral of the story is: I cannot study because I only wind up ranting at technicalities and why they should be wrong even though I don't need to study that fact. Am I studying now? No, I'm ranting.

That's all. Technicality-based geek rant. Sorry to bore anyone. :P

~Kara

(creative pun-based title) with a song at the end ♪ ♫

Am I overloading you with college-related rants yet? No? Well, give me another chance.

I watched V for Vendetta early this morning. (like, 11pm last night through this morning) with one of my wingmates. Two others begged out because they had homework, but made it clear they wished they could watch with us. Partially disproving Katie's theory that conservatives don't understand and cannot like that movie, I'm probably the only liberal person here, but it's still pretty popular.
And I'm honestly baffled why it's so popular. As I said, I watched it with someone on my wing - she's in between someone I would call an acquaintance and someone I would call a friend. And EVERY scene I liked and remembered from last time I watched it, she squirmed at. I'm not sure why she was so excited if she hated the best parts of the movie. I mean, Valerie's whole story gets to me every time. The first time I saw it, I was in tears during her coming-out scene. I'm terrified my parents will do the same, and I feel for her. Despite the terrible ending she faced, Valerie's autobiography was basically my favorite part of the movie... Fortunately I was texting Katie, and looked up at the end of the coming-out scene, too late for it to emotionally hit me; by the time Valerie met Ruth and they kissed, and remember this is a fairly tame kiss by Hollywood standards especially for a movie with a relatively old intended audience, my wingmate freaked. "Oh, gross!" I hope she didn't notice me wince at that, or if she did notice, I hope she assumed that I was also upset by the movie, not by her comment. Similarly, she freaked out at the scene at the end where V slaughtered everyone as they tried to reload their guns. That's one of my favorites for the effects they included, but evidently that much blood (which is nothing compared to Sweeney Todd, another movie I like) was just too disgusting to look at. I think we agreed that both scenes with explosions were fantastically done, as well as when the dominoes fell and made his signature Ⓥ, but I've fixated strongly on her reaction to a tame lesbian kiss.
Why? Well, in case it's not obvious, I'm dating a girl and I definitely felt attacked by that repulsion. Valerie and Ruth did not make out. They were not kissing until neither could breathe, they did not try to immediately get inside each others' pants like in some movies. (And this is an R movie, a lot more could have been shown without affecting the rating.) Sure, it was longer than a quick peck, but it was just a kiss. Chick flicks show much more involved kisses, ones which often involve exchanging saliva and grabbing insatiably onto each other, and I can almost guarantee you she would like that. That would not be "gross." What girl doesn't like watching a happy couple make out on screen, vicariously sharing their happiness? (I mean, I don't like chick flicks, but sometimes I still enjoy watching a couple kiss, especially tamely like that. Movies make it seem so artistic...) So it's not that a kiss is too crazy for my conservative "friend" to see. It's the fact that two girls seem to like each other and suddenly ALL SYSTEMS ARE OVERLOADED, THAT IS HORRIBLE. It was a harsh attack, and she doesn't even know it hurt me. It would be worse if she knew, even if it meant she toned down her (verbal) homophobia for my benefit, because then I would be judged directly too.
I tried to mention it to someone else, (one of the others that would have watched VfV with us if it weren't for homework) that it was weird watching that movie with different groups of people I tried to ask what someone might see in the parts of the movie that I didn't think were spectacular that could still draw that level of adoration for the movie, and then I realized that I can't just say "I'm liberal, and I liked the scenes with gay people even though they died, because I'm gay and I can relate, but I don't know what you see when you don't like that." I can't say that, or my nonconformity is right back in the spotlight, encouraging people to judge me. That was the beginning of a long downward spiral today as I realized just how much I am repressed, how I cannot be myself, and that I don't belong.

Some of you who know me might realize this, but to anyone else, let me just say that it would be an understatement to assert that being "gay" is just the tip of the iceberg of reasons people here (well, Christians anywhere) would judge me, reasons I don't fit in. I can't be myself here, because at best I will be scolded for my "life choices" and I don't want to try to guess what the worst would be.
People are loving when it comes to "everyday struggles" like homework or not getting enough sleep, and they generally seem to care about everyone they meet, but that doesn't mean that if I were to come out, it would just be accepted. No, I would be treated like an addict. I would be stigmatized, and people would ask if my "gayness" was "getting better" to check in with me as though it were a problem, not realizing that such a question is an insult. I don't choose to like girls. I don't choose to like boys. I recognize physical attraction to people, and I recognize when I'm crushing on someone. Both are rare, but they've happened often enough that I can recognize them. I can't control it. Sure, I can choose to act on it or not, and I keep that in check. That's why I don't even flirt with anyone other than Katie, because I'm not the cheating sort. But the fact that I'm not just a hormone-driven animal does not mean that I want to break up with her if anyone ever realizes I'm dating a girl, just to make them happy or more comfortable or proud of me. I like who I like, I love who I love, and no one can change my mind for me. I want the right to marry the person I love, or to make a stupid decision and marry a person I think I love, just like anyone else. I want my perfect wedding just like any other girl.
I don't want to be told "oh, you can't date that person because she was born with two X chromosomes." That's as bad as racism. People have told me that people can decide their own orientation, it's "not like racism because you can choose who you like." Well, most people fall in love with someone of their own race, the opposite gender. Some people fall in love with people from a different race, which used to be stigmatized, and some people fall in love with people of the same gender, which is still stigmatized. Don't tell me it's different, because it's really the same issue underneath. I cannot choose my chromosomes, nor the parts my body has, no more than I can choose my skin color. Nor can anyone else.
But no one here will recognize that. Here, there's just an understanding that "everything the bible says is relevant to everyone's lives, and strict conservative morals, preferably straight from the bible, are the best." And in several places the bible seems to indirectly say "don't be gay," but never directly. (But that's too long a tangent for now.) Well, I'm sorry, but I was already fighting a faith crisis before I came here, and nothing has helped. If anything, it's gotten worse and I've gotten more antagonistic. I don't want the bible thrown in my face, I've grown up in the church, so chances are, I've heard the verse before. I want to be listened to, to be treated as a person even if I reveal that I disagree with much of the moral code here.

I have a feeling I'm being redundant and boring you all, so I'm going to cut it off there and give you a song quote that ironically sums everything up at the moment.

All I know is I'm not home yet. This is not where I belong...

The irony is that it's a Christian worship song. But the sentiment holds despite my twisting it out of context. I do not belong here. This is not home. I wonder when I'll feel at home anywhere.

Until next time
~Kara

Oh yes, by the way. Why can't my birthday be a few months earlier? I want to vote tomorrow, and I'm "too young". I'm in college. Whoever is elected and their policies will affect me after I graduate and enter the working world before I'm allowed to vote regarding the presidency. That makes a lot of sense. But whatever. I guess since I'm just a child, I cannot make my own decisions. I cannot be trusted to make intelligent decisions. Of course. It's all so clear now. That fits wonderfully with my self image of a good student, I won't have to modify either idea in order to accept them both.

Okay, now I've become cynical. I'll just shut up now. /endrant

I should be doing homework

I should, but I'm not. I can't quite focus on homework because I'm antsy and upset. (and tired, but that's beside the point.) So you wonderful, patient readers get another dose of ranting-Kara. Much less angry than last time.

I don't know what it is, but I've been feeling very alone lately. Okay. That's misleading. I know exactly what the problem is. I'm a pansexual girl in a conservative environment with an eroded support structure.
Because seriously, what support do I have? Well, there's a not-quite gay-straight alliance here, and even though the structure and community within that group is comforting and very safe-place-ish. But that meets infrequently, and I don't know anyone from there enough to contact them and suggest hanging out. I mean, I've basically just met the group once. I have a few friends from at home, but only about two of them that I'm close enough to that we keep in contact now that I'm at college, and both consistently take weeks to respond to messages I send because they're at least as busy as I am, and presumably not desperate for friendly human contact. I text Kat about everything, of course, but she's usually (rightfully) stressed about her own life issues. Workplace stress, family issues... It's not as cathartic as I'd like when I can vent to her because then I feel guilty when she becomes sympathetically stressed about my issues as well as her own. Besides, all our commiserating eventually degenerates into "I miss you!" which adds yet more negativity. Long term relationships are such fun like that...
Other people who promise to listen and not judge (online, where I can be anonymous and spill everything that's bothering me, hopefully to a sympathetic audience, but able to cut my losses if I'm unlucky) still wind up preaching at me, and when I bring up examples, I only seem to get comments on "that logic got lost between Point A and Point B" or "that metaphor isn't valid," which sure feels like I'm being judged. I would probably grudgingly accept specific things pointed out, like where the logic got sidetracked, or reflections on specific comments. But that vagueness feels like a thinly disguised, "you're wrong and I'm trying hard not to tell you straight up that you're wrong because I don't want to seem mean." Yes, my school offers free counseling to students, and we have been assured that we can talk about little issues or big ones, they're there to listen and help. But I still can't get past the fact that I will be defined by my problems. Going to a counselor implies problems, the focus is fixing problems, and they don't know me outside the context of my problems. I just don't like the idea of that, even if a counselor might be a good listener. They're not my peers, so it would be much harder to develop a sort of friendship where we hang out and respect each other outside the context of a counselor-counselee relationship. I'm also not sure I want to hear or follow the advice I'm likely to be given at a Christian counseling center, which will boil down to "how can we convince you to be straight so it's not a problem?"
What I really need is someone here to trust and be truly close to. Someone to whom I can rant and feel listened to, who can give me a hug when the world is unfair. But I don't trust people enough yet. Even when I trust them to be honest or consistent, I don't trust them not to freak out if I come out or admit to other issues, which I certainly have. Who doesn't? The one person I semi-came out to  (I said I was bi, since that's a more commonly understood term) needed a while to accept it. Days later, she was finally confident enough to ask awkward questions like "you don't... like me, do you?" I don't want to burden her with my problems, since a simple coming out was rough enough. And I suspect a lot of people here will respond the same way at best.
Have I missed anyone? Who am I supposed to turn to? I mean, I've got you blog readers, and I can feel like I'm telling the world and imagine any number of sympathetic replies, but in reality, probably four people will read this all the way through, maybe one will be truly upset on my behalf, and no one will comment or teleport here to give me that hug.

~LonelyKaraIsAlone


Yes, by the way, I know I chose to be here. I love my college. It's just like any other part of life: good and bad, and the bad gets more publicity than the good.

Watch Your Words... They Matter More Than You Think

May I rant for a moment?
...Well, it's my blog, so get over it.

I know it's been a while since I've posted. I've been out of town and busy, and all sorts of lame excuses. Oh yeah, and packing for college.

ANYWAY. I'm at college now *insert chorus of cheers and groans* and I actually like it. Mostly. See, my issue is I came to a private Christian college. I came here, knowing their stance on homosexuality parallels my mother's, fortunately with disapproval more than hatred. I would say the standard loosened, except I had to sign a "covenant" that, among other things, I would not participate in "homosexual behavior." So it's a little strict, but not cruel with an anti-gay attitude. Whatever. Kat being transgender, I can stretch the truth and still say I have a boyfriend, so no one has come after me yet. She tolerates it. We survive. No one's hateful, so I thought.

And I got proven wrong. I was looking forward to the topics covered in Foundations of Christian Thought throughout the year because the teacher promised we would look into Christianity as a worldview and examine it for flaws, not just examine the others and point out their flaws. So I know it's not extremely, irrevocably biased. This is the class that has a discussion group associated with it to really get us thinking about what's being taught, so it sinks in, and we can similarly judge other worldviews than the ones we talk explicitly about in class. It sounds like a fantastic premise, right? Right. The premise is fine. The class is interesting, sorta. We have to read novels for it, starting with one I already knew I liked by C.S. Lewis.
The teacher, though, has been dropping homophobic comments in all the classes I've been to, all semester. Not the first one, where we watched a video of him introducing himself and got out half an hour early, but all three of the full-length classes. Today's was the worst, the most direct, when he finished a tangent with "... And when you learn about the problems in a gay person's brain, you can be sympathetic." Excuse me? The problems with my brain? My mother might have accused me of being slightly autistic, but that problem has NOTHING to do with my being pansexual. There is NOTHING wrong with my brain. This teacher is a homophobic idiot who doesn't realize that he might be insulting a student or someone close to them when he says such things. Even before I admitted I liked girls on occasion, some of my funniest, best-to-hang-around friends were gay. My best friend likes girls more than guys. I would have gotten uncomfortable on their behalf because of that statement, even if I was comfortably straight.
The problem with him insulting me is that I am far less inclined to take him seriously. He exaggerated his example of how worldviews can be more right or more wrong than others (a 14 year old wanting to go to prom with a 60-year old purple-faced axe-murderer, and her mother being concerned about the pairing) so that no one would be offended ("I resemble that remark"); why would he choose such a modern example of a "problem" to have, when it's already controversial in the world?
That's the issue, isn't it? "In the world." We're wanting to be better than the world, we're starting with the assumption that all other people are wrong, even if we're not as extreme as the Amish at avoiding them. And since that covenant prohibits "homosexual behavior," obviously, no one at the school would lie or ignore it and be a closet homosexual. That's just beyond imagining. *gag* I think it's commonly understood that no one takes it as a strict set of rules. To quote multiple people from Pirates of the Caribbean, "they're more like guidelines than actual rules."

Maybe I'm overreacting. After all, a "one-minute paper" I had to write this morning was about that same covenant, and what, if anything, I would change. I went off on that same phrase, "homosexual behavior," tried to describe this video and came out to whoever happens to read my "paper" for on-subject-ness with the line "I am somewhere between bi- and pansexual, and since I don't choose to occasionally crush on girls, I hate having to deny it and fear judgment." I have no clue who, if anyone, will read it in detail, or if they will read the whole thing and come across that near the end (I wrote half a page; which is a lot more than the sentence or two most people write) so I was feeling very vulnerable about my sexuality already today. Perhaps it was just bad luck; a bad day for him to make such a directly derogatory statement, but that can't be changed now. I'm feeling insulted, angry, and rebellious. He may never know how badly I reacted to a, perhaps innocently intended, statement. But I will be critically analyzing every word he says for the rest of the semester. I'll be cautious. I'll be hesitant to believe anything he says without proof.
...Unfortunately, I will not directly express my rebellion, because I like to keep good grades, and I logically know I'll be even more pissed if I fail the class, lose scholarship money, (and still have to take it AGAIN because he's the only teacher of all the sections of that class, and it's required) just because I tried to boycott the class. I'd be the only one, so it would just be skipping, and I would only hurt myself. The logical half of my brain serves me well, even though it limits my options for expressing my disdain. But I've heard something about "course evaluations," which come at the end of semesters (and halfway through for the half-semester courses.) I don't know how they work, or what sort of questions are asked. But if there's any free-form space on the evaluation, I intend to be scathing, particularly if he continues making homophobic remarks EVERY SINGLE CLASS.

And in case he ever does stumble across my ranting and realize it's about him, I just want to ask: There's nothing wrong with my brain, so what other "facts" have you assumed and made up?

~Your absentee author, a furious Kara.


EDIT: Some afterthoughts.
You know, the teacher wasn't specifically homophobic today (9/13/12) but I was realizing. You know how a lot of people say homophobia is rooted in many homophobes' latent homosexuality, and they don't want gay people to "turn them gay"? Well, I'm sure there's a lot of religion mixed in as well, in this case; I'm certainly not accusing him of being a closet gay, but the theory isn't entirely off. When the teacher was talking about human purpose today, whenever his examples required caring what others thought about you, all of his examples were from the female perspective. (The best example is paraphrased here for you) "A declaration of worth depends on who says you're worthwhile. If you're at college and everyone avoids you and no one will talk to you and you call home and say 'Everybody hates me,' and your mom says 'oh, that's okay, sweetie. I love you,' it doesn't cheer you up much. But if those cute boys like you, well, that's a different matter."

Habitually, though, I try to give people the benefit of the doubt. He's married, so he can't even seem to be interested in young college women in their prime, not even for such examples, or else he might have a jealous, worried wife to come home to..?

So I heard this story...

I was surfing online recently, and found this wonderful allegory. More people should read and consider it. I thought it was absolutely spot-on, but I'll leave it to you readers to judge.

By the way, I'm sorry I've been so quiet, guys... School's been insane. But maybe I'll be a little more talkative from here on? Or at least for a week or two before I disappear to summer camp...

In any case, I'm not dead. Not even close. I'm just quiet...

~Kara

(I like to imagine that in the world imagined below, chopsticks don't exist.)

Reposted with permission from the original author, Pyropractor

On Forks and Civil Liberties

Imagine that you live in a world where it's illegal to eat with a fork.
You're perfectly entitled to stab yourself with them. But eating with them is RIGHT OUT.
And all that's ever served to eat is rice, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti, and things of that nature. People eat them with their fingers, or just shove their faces down over their plates, and it's perfectly normal. Normal, that is, for everyone you know... except you.
Your parents frown on you for this. Your mother says, "I dipped my very first fork in onion juice before I jammed it into my thigh. Hurt like the devil, but every time since then, it's been much easier!" Your father says, "You really should stab yourself a few times, you know, in visible places. Otherwise people are going to think you're a sissy."
You have a constant, gnawing pain from hunger; you're lightheaded a lot of the time. But everyone is Hollywood-thin, because there's only so much rice you can eat with your fingers before you give up. You don't even stab yourself with your fork, though everyone else does it, and happily, but you don't because you can't afford the blood loss.
But mostly you don't do it because... well, it's just so unpleasant, no matter what the rest of the world says.
So one day you're at your brother's wedding. Everyone is celebrating, stabbing themselves with their forks, mostly in their forearms. The bride and groom stab each other. One drunken bridesmaid pierces her cheek clean through. A perfectly ordinary way of celebrating this joyous occasion... and certainly you have no idea of the changes the day holds.
Your brother pulls you aside. "Listen," he says, pushing a box into your hands. "We've gotten way more forks today than we can possibly ever use. Take this set, from the Welby family. They look too blunt to get through clothing. Anyway, we never really liked them. Pretentious assholes," he adds, before returning to the bustling reception.
You peer through the clear plastic of the elegant white box at the tableware within. The tines of the forks do indeed appear blunt, with just a minimum of rounding. Why, it's as though these weren't designed for pushing their way through flesh at all! The handles are curved, like the side of a woman's torso, or an acoustic guitar. The stainless steel gleams at you, at once both challenging, and somehow... inviting.
You spy a champagne glass of sherbet on a nearby table. Suddenly, the idea comes to you. A daring idea. An IMPOSSIBLE idea. You saunter over to the table, glance around to see if anyone's looking, then sweep the glass up behind you , hiding it from the crowd, and return to the dark, quiet alcove leading to the hallway where the coat check room is. You steal a little further down the hall, just to be safe.
As quietly as possible, you open the box of tableware, heart pounding in your chest. With trembling hands, you remove a salad fork from the cardboard grooves in which it rests. The whole set glitters at you with forbidden promise, even in the feeble light here. You hold your breath, and finally, just do it. The tines of the fork glide smoothly into the sherbet, as though they were designed for that purpose alone. Your mind is filled with images of some old master craftsman from a small Italian village, whose skill at forging tableware has turned him into a brilliant, sought-after designer. You wonder if it was Enzo Ferrari back in 1929, when a sudden chill yanks you back to the present: you've actually done it! You ate sherbet with a fork!
And... it was delicious.
Not just because sherbet is fruity and sugary and sweet... but because you actually got a full bite's worth without getting it all over your face. The smooth edges of the utensil don't even cut your lips in passing. It just feels so... so right.
"WHAT in the HELL?!"
The moment is shattered at the sight of your brother's livid face. "What if somebody SAW..." He yanks the fork out of your hand and jams it mercilessly into your shoulder, and only then does he seem to relax at all. "There," he says, "now you can be seen."
The pain in your shoulder pierces your whole body. You feel it in the soles of your feet. It tugs at your every nerve, like a dull sawblade being dragged across ceramic. But it is nothing... nothing next to the pain you feel from having your first glimpse of freedom discovered and seen as a source of horror.
But it doesn't stop you. Oh, you show a respectable public face - a face showing four parallel scratches down from your temple to your chin. But at home... at home, when no one's watching... you eat with a fork.
And it is BLISS.
For the first time in as long as you can remember... you feel GOOD. You have the energy to walk up a flight of stairs without getting dizzy. That constant, nagging hunger is conspicuous by its absence. You even feel like you have some strength.
And people notice it in you. They ask if you'd gotten some good news, or won some money. You seem to be happier... walking prouder, standing taller.
But you can't tell them why.
No, your new discovery about yourself will always be a source of secret shame. And you wonder just how long you'll be able to keep that secret. If people found out... you'd probably lose your job, the respect of your family, hell, even the whole community.
You consider just telling them. Maybe just your family at first. Maybe they'll understand. "I just want to be able to eat with a fork," you'll say. And immediately you can imagine your father's rage, your mother's hysteria, your brother's embarrassment. "Why can't you just stab yourself with the bloody things like everyone else?!" your father would bellow. Your mother would look even more panicked, worried the neighbors will hear.
"I don't want to stab myself, Father," you'd reply.
And that would set him off again. "Look, he'd say, in what must be an attempt at restraint. "You can still have the forks, see? Just, you know... shove them through your skin! You shouldn't be looking for extra privileges with the things!"
**************
THAT is what I imagine gay people go through every day when conservatives tell them that the right to marry someone of the opposite sex should be enough for them, and that marrying the person they actually love is "extra rights."

Untitled (To Dad)

Dear Dad:

Did you ever stop to think for a moment that it was you that taught me to be who I am? That you were the one who preached acceptance, and showed me to accept everyone - except those who hurt others? That you were the one who taught me that anger DID get the job done, and proved it on several occasions - especially here, right at home?

Did you ever stop to think that maybe I'm beyond tired of you yelling and screaming at me for sometimes doing things like you - because you're the one who taught me to do it that way?

Did you ever stop to think that MAYBE I DON'T WANT TO BE THIS WAY? That maybe I'd rather just be some regular guy who DIDN'T care about everything so much? And that I wish SO HARD EVERY FREAKING DAY that it wouldn't affect me? Or that maybe - just maybe - I wish I wasn't a girl trapped inside of a male's body, having to fight EVERY SINGLE DAY not to want to DIE?

I fight as hard as I do because you showed me for a long time that if you want something, you have to fight for it. I thought that maybe you really did care about others and who they were, and that maybe, just maybe, you'd be willing to fight for them. I thought that you had tried to BREAK the cycle of what basically amounts to mental abuse in this family - by caring about us, and NOT doing it. Except that, looking back, I was wrong. You haven't broken the cycle. You've continued it. And you're continuing it even now.

I should not be sitting here writing this, crying so hard I can barely see the screen through the tears, because of you. Not when you tried to teach me what was right from wrong - and now you're just violating it.

I can't even have a civil fucking conversation with you because whenever I try to speak on something that's even remotely "hot", you just yell at me until I shut up and back down. And then when I sit there, looking you in the eye, listening to you, you say that I'm giving you attitude? No, old man. That is not attitude. That is a feeling of betrayal that you're seeing. You yell at me to grow up, and not be angry with things, because it doesn't do any good. Yet you're yelling. About not yelling - and not being angry. Something is wrong here. I hesitate to call you a hypocrite because it seems harsh, but you know what? It's true. You're being one. You've been one for a long time. And somehow, it's rubbed off on me - because I don't see it as wrong as I know that I should. I am a hypocrite too often, because it doesn't register in me nearly as fast as it should that I am being one. And the only reason I can think of that would cause that is that you have done it for so long that it passed on. I am trying to break myself of being a hypocrite, did you know? Of course you don't, because you don't bother to pay attention.

I want family time, where I don't have to worry about anything. Where I don't have to worry about what I wear, or what you will say, or what I say in front of you. I want to be open with you, and to NOT be angry. To NOT have to fight about stupid things, because you're being an ass about it.

Today, I call something bullshit, and you instantly bark at me to get the anger out of my voice. When I try to counter a little bit later with something, you fly off the handle and go rage-mode on me about anger - how it doesn't do anything. I'm sorry? Um? Your anger has pushed me over the edge. I've been teetering for the past three days - since Wednesday night - on that precarious edge, trying to BACK DOWN and force myself to calm out, but you really did push me over this time. And when I walked away to keep from being pushed over the edge the first time, you yelled at me to come back out there, so I did after another couple minutes. I sat down and started to eat the food that I had made while you were raging on me earlier, and you start in again on me. All soft like, almost as if you were trying to be civil, then you go ballistic. Again. About how I'm supposedly taking my anger out on you guys, about how I'm abusing YOU with it. And then telling me that I can shove my "attitude" up my ass, and I can get out if I don't - going to leave me homeless, huh? Thanks - and that you don't want to hear my "pissy crying". You want to know what put me over the edge? That abuse. Telling me that my pain and hurt was just pissy crying that doesn't matter, and that I am the one abusing you and mom. What...?

I'm sorry that you grew up with parents that gave you mental hell. I really, truly am. I'm sorry that you feel like you're being constantly abused by everybody else, and that you have to feel others' emotions too. I'm sorry that your job is hard, and that your bosses are assholes.

You know what? Grow up, old man. Realize that this is reality. Things aren't easy - and they aren't getting any easier. Yes, bosses are assholes. They had to climb up a slippery ladder and stab everybody else in the back to get where they are, in almost every case. So I'm sorry that you have to deal with that. But it's reality. You want me to deal with it? How 'bouts you deal with it too?

You have made me afraid to have my own children, for fear that I will do to them what you have done to me. Fear that I won't be able to raise them well without mentally hurting them - probably permanently - in the process. Fear that the only way to raise a good kid is... through fear. How fucked up is that? I kind of wonder if you even want grandchildren, because of the way you act towards your children.

I wish so badly that I didn't have to write this, but I don't know how else to say it, and I feel like I will explode if I don't get this out there. It hurts, old man. It hurts, a lot.

Hey, Dad. You want to know what the worst part is? You probably wouldn't want to know, but I'll say it anyway. It's the fact that I can never tell you any of this, and can never really tell you how it feels. And just how much it hurts. I love you, I really do. But right now... I hate you for what you do, as well.

Please... Please, just lay off me.

Love,
Your.... older child.

(I'm sorry that I had to put this here, but I don't know where else to put it. I know there have been a lot of "personal" posts up here lately, but it is a personal blog on top of other things... I'll see you guys later - don't hate me too much for this one. Until next time. Peace.)

....?

(Warning, probably a lot of use of the word "fuck".)

I just want to curl up in a ball right now. So hurt and angry and just... fuck.

What is so fucking hard about accepting me for who I fucking well am? I am your child, mom. I always have been, and I always will be. Why can you not accept that I don't feel like I'm supposed to look the way I do? Why can't you accept that I am transgender? You say it is because of society, but that is such a bullshit answer. You and dad fucking TAUGHT me and your younger daughter to be accepting of everyone no matter what, yet here you are and you can't even fucking accept your own child for who they are - and not who they look like?

Fucking hell. I want to curl up and cry. I feel like I'm losing reality, and I don't have anything to grab hold of and hang on to. My desk doesn't even help.

Why me? Why do I have to be transgender? Why can't I just be the fucking son, why is my brain fucked up like this? I don't really give a whole lot of a shit about what most of society thinks - society as a whole are fucktards - but there are a few people I do care what they think. My immediate family? They're one of them. After twenty years of being basically preached to about acceptance of others, I'm not accepted simply because of... Because I feel wrong? Because I'm NOT male? Because I want to be a girl on the outside instead - and on the inside, am one?

We grew up on non-religious. We grew up with tolerance and acceptance of others drilled into us. So WHAT is different about me that you can't tolerate and accept me? Is it because it's not some nameless, faceless person - it's your own child? I just don't even know what to think anymore. What am I supposed to think about you, when you won't accept me?

I've been trying to get a real answer for three months about why you are so... what, hesitant to believe? don't think it's true? Three fucking months, and no real fucking answer yet. The only answer I've gotten so far from you, mom, was that you were raised in the catholic church and it was wrong there - and that it isn't accepted by society. And when I asked you tonight if that's why you didn't accept me - because society won't accept me as a whole - you deflected and just said that if I wanted to talk about it I had to talk to both you and dad at the same time. You've always been the one that I can come to with shit like this - and now, now... when I need your acceptance... I don't get it. Because of society - and your upbringing, which you have shaken? Something... Something does not make sense here.

I don't know what's so hard for you to realize. That this is REAL. That I'm not just making this up, that it's not just some perverse game. Will you believe it if the Psychiatrist says it's true? Then will you believe me? Will you accept me then?

Why do I have a feeling that you still won't accept me, even through that? What about this is so fucking hard? I am still your child! That isn't going to change! Why can't I be your daughter instead of your son though? We've all known for a long time that I'm not normal - in many different ways - and it's shown through the entire time I was growing up. We just didn't know to what extent the insanity ran.

Need a hug. Need Kara here. Something. Fighting tears and just... not in a good place.

There is no peace for me right now.

Help?

Carry On

Sinus infection went away. Persistent bastard. Allegra, Sudafed, Tylenol, Mucinex, plus the antibiotic. Was quite happy to be rid of it.

Never did end up getting back down to the tornado disaster zone, unfortunately. Wish I could have done more...

Ended up spending a few hours with Kara that Friday afternoon, and then a few more hours later that evening. Amazing, mostly. I love that girl. She makes me so happy... I've seen her (almost) every day for the past few weeks, which is good, all things considered. I won't have almost any time with her next week, then summer is basically shot, and probably fall too. We'll see how it goes. Fighting to get as much time with her as possible before that happens.

That Friday also went awesome in another way - I got the A/V job! I am now working at a hotel, doing the Audio and Visual side of things. I've already racked up a fair number of hours, and done my first big build - which is amazing. I can't really post pictures, but suffice to say: If our team gets creative license, then watch out world! It turns out amazingly. I'm even getting paid a reasonable amount of money this time around. Even though I'm "temporary" - more like part time - I'm still getting a good amount of hours. Only... well, not really bad, not interesting, just... eh part of the job are the random hours. This past weekend, I went in at 06.30 Saturday morning, worked until 16.30, then went in Sunday from 17.30 until 22.30 (Sunday was the big build). And then I turned around and worked at 07.00 on Monday. The only other part of the job that is even halfway annoying is the fact that I have to wear a suit for work, seeing as how we meet with clients on a constant basis. I don't mind it - wearing a suit certainly makes me feel like a badass - but it means I have to find good suits. So far, it's been going to Goodwill and finding good two piece suits with the help of one of my best friends - that man has an eye for fashion - and matching it with shirts and ties. I probably need to get a couple real suits, but that's shelling out some serious money there. Stick to Goodwill for the time being, I guess. Oh well.

I still have yet to call the Medical insurance company. I need to do that! Grah. Been so busy with work and school and hanging out with Kara that I just haven't really thought about it, much less done it. But seriously, I need to... My body isn't right, and it bugs me. But I want to be able to go to a psychologist where Kara can go with me at least once, so I don't feel like I'm going in there alone... But that means either going on one of her days off, or a weekend, and I don't know many - if any - psychologists that are open on the weekend. I need to figure it out...

Dear GAWD, I need to shave tomorrow afternoon. My legs look like woolly freaking mammoths. Toooo much body hair! Drives me nuts. That, and a day without shaving, I have definite face stubble issues. It's driving me nuts. Wish estrogen could do something about face hair, but it won't... and of course the laser hair removal is EXPENSIVE! Grahhhh. So much about all this is expensive... drives me nuts! Welcome to life though, right?

So, a couple days ago, I went to visit my old mentor, and he told me about a second-hand store that had a few server racks - and servers still in them! - there. I went over to that store and bought three Dell PowerEdge servers, plus a Cisco Catalyst 2900. For A HUNDRED BUCKS. We're talking over three thousand dollars worth of gear, and I got it for a hundred dollars. How does this happen? Second hand stores for the win!! But yeah. Gonna set one of the servers up as a dev server, hopefully give one to dad as an early b-day present for his virtual stuff, and use one as a file server or something... I'll see how they run. I seriously need a day off though to tackle them, and I don't know when that'll be anytime soon... Between school and work. Heh. Oh well! I'll figure it out. I still have to figure out where I'm going to put my servers - not like I have much space in my room! - and we don't really have a whole lot of space in the entire house. I'd like to get in on a co-op or something, but that takes money that I currently don't have.

I need to yank the graphics card out of my old box and put it in my current box though, because the one in my current box is dying, it sounds like... I think the fan on it is going to hell. Either way, I need to fix that soon - especially if I want to stay active in SecondLife. I'll figure it out and make it work - I always do in the end...

Anyways. Sorry about the random jumping around in this post. More of a train-of-thought than anything. It's 0.18 though. I'm tired, and my brain really isn't wanting to work. Not to mention having to get up in five and a half hours... Oh yay.

Until next time.

Peace.

..... Sinus Infection? Really?

Fucknuggets!

I have a sinus infection! Doctor told me on Monday. I've been on meds since and doing better, but it's still taking its toll. Tired constantly, coughing, irritable.... Hungry! Don't forget hungry. And on top of it all, I CAN'T FREAKING TYPE. I think in the past paragraph, I've managed to misspell so many words I've lost track... This stupid infection has basically had me stuck at home for the past few days, to boot.

I haven't really been able to go down to the tornado disaster zone, either. I've managed to go down there twice total - last Wednesday and Friday. And it's really frustrating. I posted about last Wednesday, but didn't get around to Friday. I went down Friday morning, got to the Fire Station, and they assigned me to a section. I went out, trying to find it, and managed to get lost (of course). Twenty minutes later, I ended up back at the station and they gave me the correct directions - as the road signs were down - and this time I managed to get to the correct location. Got there, and just... I don't know. Damage. Huge amounts of damage. The tornado just cut a path of destruction and left almost nothing standing. One house was literally missing everything except two outside walls and an inside one. Another house had the siding basically stripped off the side of it. Talking with the person who owned the house that had been almost completely demolished revealed that there had been four barns - and none of them even appeared from where I was standing. Originally, I'd been out there to help out, but there was nothing really to do. The plan came down to simply "bulldoze it and burn it" then start completely over. I talked with them for a bit longer then headed back to the fire station, where they had me make runs around the county taking water and other supplies to different places. Naturally, in the course of these runs, I met a fair number of people, and all of them were just... how do you describe it?

Nobody had completely given up, but some were close, and some were just depressed... Nobody had anything really clear. But everybody was resigned. Nobody was really in denial about what happened - it seems logical that way, but emotions don't work like that...

It's a mess. I want to do more, but I can't right now, and it's scary to see all the damage.

Anyways. I'm on a steady diet of sudafed and pain killers, trying to get rid of allergy headaches and crap, and I've been hacking up a storm. I think the sinus infection is finally receding - it's Thursday - but I'm still having all the issues I mentioned before. Irritable is barely covering it, too, in some cases. Right before dinner tonight, my dad and I just started almost-yelling at each other over who knows what, and it took me until we were both basically saying "shut the fuck up" to each other (me under my breath) to realize that both of us were majorly irritable already. Damned sinuses. And of course, today has been really wet, which hasn't helped with crap in the air. So, I'm just not in good shape.

Tomorrow is a day off for the public school district, so I'm going to hopefully spend a good chunk of time with Kara, as well as job hunting. A friend's dad works at one of the hotels / convention centers in the area, and he's looking for an A/V person. That's me! Hopefully he'll call me up and we can get together and chat - and let me get a look around and feel for the place. It'd be an awesome job, as it is part time and can work around my school schedule. Tomorrow should be good. Pissed off my sister, too, because apparently she was planning on stealing the car for the day or whatever - denied!

It's spring break. I would, of course, spend my spring break basically at the house feeling like shit. Pretty much fitting...

Monday, I found out a pretty damned amazing piece of news - I have health insurance under my parents still. Do until I'm twenty five or twenty six. Meant I could go to the doctor, get the meds, and actually try and fix this stupid mess of allergies. I also talked to the doc while I was there about my gender "dysphoria". He told me he actually has a couple of patients that are transgender / transsexual, and he told me to call my insurance company and find out what in-network psychologists handle gender dysphoria, so that I can start actually moving on stuff. He looked at me and said, if it's wrong, it needs to be fixed. I don't think that there's much more I can say beyond the fact that the Doctor said so that will convince my parents to actually let me start figuring this out beyond just... wearing female clothing alone or somewhat in public.

I'm with the Doc though. I need to figure out what's going on and try to "fix" it... whatever fixing really is. So, I should probably call the insurance company tomorrow or Monday. Mental health is a.... touchy subject.

Not really much else to say. If I remember something in my sinus-induced state, I'll probably edit or start writing a new post.

Until next time.

Peace.

There are no words....

This past Friday, tornadoes ripped through our state. Monday morning, the headlines in the local rag (paper) were of volunteers who went down to help clean up the messes. I looked at my parents and said, I need to do this. They both simply said, "okay". Tuesday - yesterday - I started doing research. Stonewalled, mostly... Couldn't find anything online really telling me where I could volunteer to help. Finally, ended up calling the county court. They redirected me to a fire station, which I then called. They gave me the information I needed, and told me to be there this morning. This county is about an hour and a half, give or take, from my house. Seventy or so miles. (Blame road work and back roads for slowness.) I drove in, hauling a fair amount of butt, and went to the school where volunteers were being directed. Asked what needed to be done. Ended up at the other school, where I spent the day moving water, boxes of clothes, food, supplies... Everything. It was amazing how much had been donated. A semi load had shown up... yesterday? with a bunch of gear in it, and it'd all be unloaded and began to be sorted. By the end of the day today, the gym, which had been amazingly full this morning, was almost completely empty. We had so many truck loads to the different distribution points in the community that I lost track.

My entire body is sore.

Friday, probably Saturday, and all through next week, I'm going to go down there to help out. Try to help these people... get back on their feet. Hopefully. All through today, I'd talk to some random person, and the typical "hey, how're you" "fine, how're you" kind of talk would be exchanged. Yet... I was overwhelmed by emotions. These people are hurting in a huge way. They don't show it - I only saw a single tear shed all day at the school - but it's there, just beneath the skin. It only took a few minutes of talking for the man speaking to shed that tear, but... It's there. Most of these people have barely slept in the past five days, yet they're still doing everything they can. Even through everything, these people are strong. Stronger than I could ever possibly imagine... But the pain is still there. I knew it was going to happen - I knew I'd feel it, see it... I just didn't expect the sheer amount. My emotions literally shut down within the first two hours from being overwhelmed.

These people have had natural disasters occur to them before. They are no stranger to the pain, the anger, the fear of them. They know how to respond, how to get moving, how to make things happen, and how to get things back into shape. They're still hurting though, even though they try to hide it behind the "this has all happened before, it'll all happen again" mentality.

There are no words when a disaster like this strikes. I had no idea what to tell anybody today when it came to talking about it. I mean, what can you say? "I'm sorry." What's that even mean in a situation like this? We're talking about people who have lost their homes, their vehicles, e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Right now, I can't even fathom that. The only thing that can really be done is to trek on, to try to make the best of the situation and repair things as best as possible - even if it doesn't seem like there's anything to repair. These people trek on, even though there were at least two deaths in their county, so much loss...

I wish I knew what to say to people after things like this happen. I've lost people before. More than I'd care to admit to anybody else, much less to myself. This is the second time in a week that I have had no words for a situation.

Earlier this week - Tuesday morning - my sister looks at me as she's getting ready to go to school and tells me that her best friend's older sister committed suicide the night before. I had heard many good things about this girl, and it left me rather shell shocked. After my sister walked out the door, my mom came back and hugged me, because that's all we could do... There just were no words. What do you say to somebody when they found out they lost one of their friends to them taking their own life?? I haven't managed to figure out what to say, still, and I've gone through this too many times myself. There's no good way to comfort people in these situations.

On top of all of this... I learned a couple things today that I'm not so sure I wanted to know. Although, it makes it easier to know where to put our money... Red Cross are a bunch of assholes. All I'm gonna say. And FEMA are too, but we knew that. People, if you're going to donate your money to someplace where it'll actually be useful, try to find out if a local bank (local to the disaster area) has set up a fund, and if there hasn't, try to find out through the local courts, government offices... Churches, even, and I rarely will say that. Still more likely to get the money to the actual problem, as opposed to just paying employees. I'm dead serious about this.

*Sigh.*

I want to see these people quit hurting so much, which is why I'm planning on going back down there as much as I can over the next week. I have class tomorrow, so I can't go then, but beyond that... next week is Spring Break. So definitely going down to the county as much as I can.

I wish I had the answers. I really do.

Until next time.

Peace.

Rant 2

Day later. Yesterday is over - yesterday evening went incredibly. New day.

Began okay. Called Kara when I woke up, we talked for a while, got out of bed. Got down to the church about eight minutes later than I meant to, which meant that I had no time to check our the sound gear to make sure everything was functional. Go figure, of course, it wasn't.

Chalk up another piece of gear we need - another direct box. We currently have two, except one of them - the one that, of course, needs a battery replaced - decided that upon trying to replace the nine volt battery, part of the battery plug broke, meaning that I couldn't actually replace the battery. This is causing the direct box to short out and basically be a bitch. As a hack, we grabbed an amp, hooked the bass up to the amp, then ran the output from the amp into the direct box, and from there into the snake. It's a powered amp, which means it put through a hell of a lot of volume even down extremely low. I expected this, but not as much as we got. I had to adjust a lot to make it all work. On top of it, our lead guitarist was bitching at me the entire fucking time because things weren't working. So instead of getting my job done quickly and letting them get on with their fraking practice, instead I had to respond to him bitching. Just... ugh.

Then, turn around and talk to the pastor. He still hasn't read my bloody report - the one I wrote a week ago and have had up on dropbox since - the one reasoning out exactly why we need two thousand dollars to upgrade everything. So, instead of reading the report, he simply looks at me and asks how much it's going to cost. I tell him, straight out, and he looks at me with a look of almost disgust and says, "That's too much! You need to run stuff like that by me first!" Actually? Interestingly? No. You aren't one with all the power. The finance committee are the ones who make the final call. They have the report. They are the ones who make that call. Not you. I have a lot of damned good reasons in that report as to why we need this gear. Right now, I'm having to keep from calling the pastor an asshat on top of everything else...

It made for a very nasty service, and I was texting with Kara for half of it. She got the brunt of my emotions, therefore, which I don't like doing, but at least she can back me up on it all. That girl makes me the happiest person ever... and that takes work, seeing as it's me we're talking about. But even so, she barely managed to cheer me up, and I still wanted to just leave the church and not look back, ever. Unfortunately, that's not the first time I've had that want, either. Second or third, at the least. I don't know what else to do.

We need this gear. I have made it clear, and I don't know how much more I have to say to make it crystal. I'm not saying we need to use two grand to use two grand. No. I'm saying it because that's what we need to accomplish several goals. Not to mention... Pastor, you just had a new projector put up, which must have cost us at least a grand to do - between gear and labor? - must have cost a fair amount. And you're telling me that two grand is to much when we need it to upgrade a lot more than a single projector! Maybe you should have read the fraking report instead of just looking at me with that look of disgust and saying it's too much. We don't make calls like "I want to live stream all the services from this campus" without realizing that it's going to cost money. I told you that ahead of time, I thought I made it clear. Apparently not. I even gave a time frame in the report saying how to spread out the cost, so as to not need to do it all at once. But since you haven't read the report, how could you know that, much less know what it is? It's one thing to shoot holes in something after reading it. It's entirely another to not even bother to read something then knock it over - or for that matter using it to bash others...

Hmm, I can see an analogy in there to Christians as a whole... Right, where's that frying pan coming from and why's it aimed at my head...?

Anyways.

I keep track of a few facebook pages, one of which is Wipeout Homophobia on Facebook. The admin of that page posts images constantly, and other stuff. A spin off of it is Wipeout Transphobia on Facebook, and TForm. I, being who I am, of course support both fully. I have seen a lot of images on there of a man kissing another man in front of a bunch of anti-gay marriage protestors, two very burly men holding hands, etc. Used to make me feel a lot better, constantly, but now... Meh. Images. People being people. Love is love. Why can't people understand that? If there is really any god up there, or whatever, and it created humans in its image, then that means that it was either gay, or at least bi-curious... I mean, damn. According to all these different bibles, god was / is perfect. Um. Sure! Whatever you say. But if its perfect, then why do we have all these gay people running around? Mutations? If nothing else, that proves evolution theory. Bitches. But no. Going by the theory of creationism, we were just instantly created, and haven't changed since. Um... sure! Whatever you say.... That means that gay people were created in the process. So. What does that tell you? Something tells me that these people really have no idea what they're talking about - proven on a daily basis, unfortunately - and are fundamentally wrong. It is enough to drive others up a wall, across the ceiling, down the opposite wall, then up the perpendicular wall.

Yeah, I just did that.

I tried to believe in god. I really did. I tried to believe in the christian god. I prayed, more than once in my life. About random things. What got me though, was when I started to lose friends. To suicide. To car wrecks. These were kids - teenagers my age, friends. How can I believe in god after all that? How could any god take the life of a teenager - somebody who has so much to live for, who is trying to make a difference? I heard somebody tell me after the second car wreck that they needed them in heaven or whatever. I don't talk to that person anymore. How could a parent outlive their child? Yet I saw it happen four, five times in high school. How many more? I don't even know. Two of those were suicides - how could any loving god let that happen? I can't believe that. I cannot believe that there is a god out there who would let that happen. After that second car wreck, after my friend died, I quit believing. I no longer can believe. Whenever I tell a believer that, they give me a weird look, to boot...

Moving on.

Things to be fixed. Too much. Need a break from this insane world.

Until next time.

Peace.

Rant 1

I want to rant, but I don't even know where to begin or what to say. It just feels so futile to even fight anymore, whatever it is I'm fighting for. 'Course, this probably has something to do with the job hunt, but I don't know... I also just finished reading the news on /., so that probably doesn't help... News just gets me down. Never really reporting on anything good, or happy out there. Where to start?

Yesterday, I called the General Manager at the place that I thought I had a good shot at getting the job at, only to find out that the position was either filled, or Corporate just said no. Or maybe that I'm not good enough. You know. Enough to just... I was so fucking close, and boom, nothing. Again. This whole search feels so bloody pointless, and it's even worse as of recent -- everybody seems to be hiring, but they aren't hiring me. Go figure, right?

Also yesterday, I went into the church. We recently started setting the stage (see what I did there?) to get live streaming functioning in our church - to stream a video and audio feed to the outside world, through the 'net. I put in a recommendation / proposal to the finance committee of the church, and have yet to hear anything back yet. On top of it, the church admin bought the camera the other day, and then yesterday, without even talking to me about it, promised our pastor that they would try to stream live Monday. Monday!! Okay. At best, our network is going to LAUGH AT THEM. At worst? It'll melt down the entire network and take a good chunk of our (admittedly shitty) computers with it. And then, as soon as I can talk to her about it, she gets another call, and she and the assistant pastor kick me out of the office for a conference call. This call lasted another forty five minutes before I just gave the hell up and left. When -- if -- they ping me on Monday, I'm probably just going to ignore it. I told them what we needed and what would happen, and I was ignored... And of course, I may still end up going in anyway. On top of the fact that our network can't handle it, I haven't had ANY time to work on setting up a computer to handle the broadcasting. How do they plan on streaming without a computer to broadcast? Not to mention, how are they planning on getting audio from the board to the broadcast computer? I already put in the report saying what we need to make it work. Has anybody listened? Nope. Speaking of everything feeling absolutely fraking futile. I wrote that report because I still know what I'm talking about more than anybody else who has stepped forward in that church. (That is to say - um, one other person knows anything close to me, and he still doesn't know much.)
/*Disclaimer: I am a networking major. I worked at an IT company for seven months, and before that, four years in a high school, doing a fuckton of work. When I say that I know what I'm talking about, I'm not saying that to sound egotistical - it's the simple fact when it comes to the church.*/
When Monday comes and everything just... completely fails? It isn't my fault. Don't blame me. I already told you guys what I know, and I'm pretty sure it's fraking accurate. In fact, I turned around and asked somebody who's been doing this for another twenty years longer than me, and he agreed with my findings!

Frak. Just frak. Is what I say just that... easily ignored?

I mentioned in my last blog, I believe, about being an empath, and the fact that I basically have lost one of the two people I can turn to. I talked to her again, later that night, through text - hell of a lot harder to convey anything across it, much less emotions. Didn't do... shit all good. Told her a situation, and just... blah. Didn't help at all. She just told me that I needed to learn to rely on myself for help. Um. Okay. Hold up a sec. WHATTHEFUCK. If I turned to her everytime I needed somebody to vent to, or to ask for help or advise, I'd call her at least once every couple days. No. I called her TWICE in a month because I needed her advise, or at least for her to listen to me, because I was freaking the frak out. Neither time did she return my call, or even ask what was wrong - instead, the second time, I get a text, a day and a half after I asked for her to talk to me, saying how she can't be there all the time, much less every day, and just... fuck. It hurts that I'm willing to drop everything for somebody who I consider to be a friend and who needs somebody to turn to, yet one of the people I thought I could turn to just... won't help. And the other has more than enough of her own problems, and she gets even less sleep than me. Which leaves me with nowhere to turn -- even the internet does no good. I don't know what's wrong with me. I guess I just care too fraking much about everyone. Yeah, that's.... perfect.

Something else that's been kind of getting to me lately -- I'm a Unitarian - or Humanist - whatever - who's working at a Methodist church. But I'm not doing it to serve god or jesus or whatever... I'm doing it to further myself as a tech - sound and audio wise - and to be able to be in a community of people, where I'm appreciated by at least some of them. The other day, my Pastor thanked me - on my Facebook wall - for my service. To a certain level, it's appreciated, and then on another level, it was majorly frustrating, because of the lurking thought that he was thanking me more for my service to "god" or whatever as opposed to the people of our community. I'm not doing what I do for some non-existent being, I'm doing it for the other people around me, and for my own further (professional and personal) development. Problem is.... The two grand we need to upgrade the systems like we need them is... going to barely be noticeable by the people I'm trying to "serve". At the same point, some people will appreciate it, because it'll make certain things possible that weren't before. Not to mention... who doesn't want a faster network? Not to mention, the ability to set up a guest network that anybody can connect to within the church? (Going to find a way to shut it down out of hours though.)

I know I mentioned it before, and you guys are probably tired of hearing about it, but I'm tired of having to hide, on top of everything. I have to hide who I am in the church - have to be this "masculine male dude" who isn't me. I can't be partially girl, because guess what, in the church.... That just isn't allowed. I wish it was. I wish so hard that I could just go my Pastor and say, "Man, I'm transgender. I want to start expressing that here," and it just not matter. Except if I did, I have a feeling I wouldn't be allowed to continue to go there, much less voluntarily "serve" in the position I currently do. And even if I was allowed to continue to go there, I somehow doubt anybody would actually welcome me. I'm currently opened with... well, mostly open arms, but if I became who I truly was in there, I somehow doubt it'd continue that way. And besides church, I have to hide from so many others. My own family, I can't really be who I am in front of my dad, because it disturbs him. Every time I go out in public, I'm not really worried about some random stranger noticing, but more along the lines of somebody I have to deal with and interact with consistently. For instance - Kara's parents. Or somebody from the church who I work with directly or know directly. Or even one of my (rather limited number of) extended family members here in town. It's stupid, it sucks.

Welcome to the hell that is my little piece of this shitty world.

On the bright side. Kara and I are going out for a bit tonight. It's something. Hopefully it'll help with this depression that's spurred most of this rant. Sorry it was so disjointed.

Until next time.

Peace.

Bipolar? That's Me!

Yay, long weekends... Not!

Well... No one's heard from me in a while. Apologies to all; I've been massively busy. On the other hand, maybe this rant will make some people decide not to like my posts. This one's a bit personal and features a lot of stupid people and too many shades-of-gray definitions... a frustrating highlight to a cruddy day.

Among other things, my past weekend was a tad bipolar. Thursday was up and down, ending on a fantastic high note, while Friday was so stressful I was literally shaking, to some degree, for most of the day.

Thursday evening, someone we all know (yes, I mean Katie<3) decided she would be adorable in her process of asking me back out. (I said yes of course, I would have to be an idiot not to adore her...) Actually getting time with my (re)girlfriend left me the calmest I've been in months by the time I got home.

Unfortunately it didn't last for the next morning. The first coherent memory I have (that's because it was as I woke up, not because I was high on anything, for any of you readers who always read the worst possible meaning into anything. For the record, I refuse to get into drugs because I don't want to mess with my brain when it's basically my best attribute. I don't have a lot else going for me, so I want to keep what I have... but I digress. I have a rant to share...)

Basically my first coherent memory was of being yelled at, and almost immediately yanked - by the hair, which is painful - into a sitting position. I proceeded to get into a massive wrestling match with my mother (with all the standard tricks, including hitting me over and over when I decided not to respond 'cause I was so pissed and verbally harassing me while I sobbed, holding the blanket tightly over my head as though it would actually shield me from anything). She later decided that since she had to go to work and she was leaving the house without me, I /had/ to skip school and work on a few things like laundry from my room.

Just f.y.i... Hey, I don't appreciate the unprovoked physical not-quite-abuse. Really, I don't. Also, I'm seven-frikken-teen. There's a /law/ that says kids have to go to school either until they're sixteen if they're dropping out, or until they graduate from the equivalent of a public high school's 12th grade. If I don't go, it's truancy, and my parents get in trouble… Since I am not dropping out, I am legally /required/ to go to school. Normally, if I was told "get up NOW" when I was in that much of a fighting mood, I would bury myself under the covers and curl up on the floor when I'm finally dragged out of bed (by dad, who has the physical strength to enforce that.) All things considered though, including the fact that I for some reason zoned in on the fact that she told me "stay home, but get up now," I decided that after she left for work, when my dad left to take my sister to school, I would get up, dressed, etc, and walk out the door. It's not an unreasonable walk to school, but long enough that when I'm at my most energetic and power walking (I can't run with my backpack on... it's heavy and it's hard enough to walk upright with it on) it will probably take me a solid, sweaty, half hour. By the time my dad and sister walked out the door, I was nearly half an hour late for my zero-block class. I think I was out of bed and down the stairs to my backpack, and even slinging it over my shoulder in record time (for me.) I stopped long enough to grab a house key from the garage, and to call the one person who both has their own car to drive and that I regularly tell about my personal/family drama, asking for a ride. I woke her, but she said she'd be on her way soon. I paid careful attention to how dad had locked the front door, and locked it back the same way on my way out. Then I just started walking. 20 paranoid minutes later and barely halfway to school, my ride showed up. We completed my "journey" by getting to my school in less than four minutes. Turns out, I was right on time for the normal first period class, so I went straight there. The attendance office ladies called my third period class to give me grief about not signing in (my first block teacher is a bit clueless when it comes to computers, so any day I'm late or my excused absence is assigned to the wrong day, I hear from all my other teachers, "hey, why are you marked absent?" and nothing from her. The second class I went to today, the teacher asked me why I was absent, then emailed attendance. I should have been sarcastic, saying "oh yeah. I'm obeying my mother and not coming to school today. I forgot; my bad...") I decided I didn't really care whether I was marked present or absent, because I didn't know if my parents would be searching for me and check the obvious place (since my backpack was gone and all the folders that are normally in it would have had to still be there because they weren't anywhere else) by calling the school and asking if I was there. Besides, they told me not to be there, and since I'm not 18 yet, I'm still legally obliged to obey them. It's sort of a compromise? Either way, Attendance learned that I was there, and I went on with my day.

By the end of the day, I had a massive headache (that happens when I cry and get my head specifically dehydrated. Also, I have orchestra as my last class, so everyone was being loud and not helping the pain...) I was also starting to freak out about the necessity of going home. I stayed for my normal Friday club meeting, which let out earlier than usual, then called my friend back. She picked me up, and we went for a drive, which almost got me to relax, except it ended too soon, and I freaked out so much about how I didn't want to go back to my house that she gave me the option of taking it to the police as abuse...

Yeah. Long story short, we went downtown to the police station and talked to someone... and the officer said "it sounds like growing pains to me" and pointed out that parents have the right to corporal punishment. He did, however, say he'd file some form and a social worker would call us up to help us basically "work through [our] issues." He also called my mother, letting her know that I'd spoken to him and all that. (At least, he claimed to have called her. Friend and I were sent out into the lobby to wait.) He came back out and told us that she'd been pretty receptive to what he said, which was that I'd been in, and he thought that dragging me around by my hair and slapping me was dangerously close to physical abuse, so she should try to find some other way to get my attention, but also that he'd told me to try to follow her rules to not make it necessary in the future... Said she'd asked that Friend take me home and that we'd talk when we both got there. Friend of course took me the long way home, reassuring me of her unending support. Despite everyone else's reassurances, I was freaking worse than ever then, worried that I hadn't been able to express myself clearly enough, that the officer hadn't taken me seriously, and especially that mom would know what I'd tried to do and would go off on me worse later.

In any case, I got back to my house at like 6:30, more than ten hours after I'd left the house, and still /way/ too soon for my taste. I dragged Friend in with me, still desperate for sanity. As soon as I was in the door, dad asked where I'd been all day. "at school... Then [club]." He accepted that, but since he was leaving to take my sister to a birthday party, he insisted I come along since I was home. Friend had to leave, and didn't put up a fuss, but mentioned to me that my dad clearly didn't know I'd spoken to the police that afternoon, since he hadn't said anything even halfway relevant. I agreed, and rode in awkward silence out to a country club with them, and back with dad. When we were ten minutes out from our house, mother called and evidently asked whether I'd gotten home. Hearing only dad's side of the conversation, I caught fragments like "I was leaving at the time and it seemed best... it seemed prudent to bring her along." I managed to worry more.

Then I finally got home and had to deal with her... absolutely NOTHING out of her, beyond the normal, "loss of /so many/ privileges and get back to those chores I told you to do this morning." I'm not really sure what "no privileges" means, as all I can figure I've lost is my phone, which she took that morning, and internet privileges, also gone ca. 7 A.M. - there was even a fragment of conversation that included her telling me "and that's why you have permission to leave the door to your room closed" which may not seem like much, but I HATE when I'm in a bad mood and trying to hide from everyone and she /insists/ I leave my door open, or the times she makes dad take it off... She didn't even made a move to put her hand on my shoulder (which normally is fine or even taken with the intended affection, but one time it did spark a wrestling match between us and she broke one of my favorite keepsakes in the process, as well as tearing my nightshirt off of me, so i wasn't really sure if she'd decided not to risk anything). I began to believe that everyone else could have been right - that the threat of being arrested was quite a reset-inducing factor and would probably work wonders… But then she didn't say anything at dinner (it was just the three of us eating dinner, and the first time I'd really been close enough to talk to them). She didn't say anything when I asked her a chores-related question and no one else was on the same floor of the house... I have to wonder if she really got a call, or if the improvement was just from the fact that she hadn't known where I was from whenever dad told her i wasn't around the house until 9 P.M.... In any case, zero issues between then and Friday night, when I typed this up. Obviously, I'm not gonna be able to post this until at least Tuesday afternoon when I have a computer class, and it might even be by emailing Katie a .txt and saying "Hey. Post it." For whatever reason, the lack of issues actually scares me really badly. In this family, a lack of chaos is rarely a predictor of good things to come…

Yeah. Um. Yeah. Rant over... Who's glad you don't have family issues like this kid right here?

*sigh* Until next time, my patient readers

EDIT: So, turns out she /did/ get that call, but she didn't mention anything until Sunday morning when we were the only two in the house (Dad and Sister go in to church early) so I bet Dad doesn't know. She said she didn't know what I'd been thinking [insert minirant here] but that we would talk about it when I was ready. Which might be never. I'm starting to think taking it all the way to the authorities was an overreaction. 'cause really, it's not consistently bad... I'm wondering if she's so nice in comparison because she's scared though... Friend seems to think so. I don't know. It's still a huge, muddled confusion, but at least my internet is on now, so I can post this earlier than expected...
Also, you'd think she would wait longer than three days (read: this happened as soon as Monday night) to hit me again, all things considered. With as scared as she's acting... You know? Headshots hurt, for the record, especially when you take a backhand to the temple and it rattles your brain... Yep. Ouch. But we've really only had that one episode since Friday, and usually when we have such issues, they're a bit more frequent before they become "virtually nonexistent" again...

Empathy and Life

I don't even know where to start. Life has been a nut house for the past week or so. Might as well start from the beginning... Isn't that always the best place?

Had a job interview not this past Friday, but the Friday before that. It went well. Monday, I got a call back for a second interview. Second interview went well. Said I'd get a call this past Friday - nothing yet. I know that the retail manager at the restaurant / store is a busy woman, but... still. I want to know if I got the job or if I need to keep looking. I need to call Tuesday (Monday is President's Day) and here's to hoping for some good news...

Hmm. Wednesday, went into the church around midday and talked with the administrative staff and the Pastor for a bit - standard bullshitting around. Normal stuff. The assistant Pastor told me then that I should have gotten an email the night before - I hadn't - asking if I could run sound for rehearsal and then for a service the next week (this coming week). So, I went over to my Mom's office and asked her if she could take me that night. Instead, she calls my Dad and they gave me permission to use the car as needed for sound work within the church - as "professional development". Made me quite happy. Went to the church that night and did my job - the job of a Sound Engineer. And this next week, I'll be at that again... Wednesday is going to be an absolutely crazy, long day. Friday - two days ago - I went in again, and started to pull together a quote to upgrade the network. Our church wants to start live streaming our services. Um... With our current network, there is no way in the name of any kind of god or otherwise that that's going to happen. Our network is a convoluted MESS. We have three wireless routers - routers! - in the building, each handing out its own fraking DHCP settings. I don't even know how our network is still UP, much less actually working! I'm pulling together a quote to basically pull out the entire old network and completely redo it. And, of course, that isn't exactly cheap... But it'll still be cheaper if we do it than if we called a company in to do it. And, of course, I'm going to have to spend some time working on computers themselves so I can set one up to run streaming... And we're going to have to find another volunteer who's willing to run the camera during services. Meaning we're going to have an A/V team of at least three people working in concert for service. Sunday morning - this morning - was normal service, and it went okay. I'm currently training another guy on the board so that it's not... unattended during service if I'm sick or otherwise. Definitely need somebody on the board at all times. Feedback sucks.

Thursday was a mostly amazing day. I asked Kara out - and she said yes. She and I have gone out once before, and it went well for the year we dated. Things went to shit thanks to her parents, but now... now that's mostly fixed. She had asked me to be romantic about her asking her out this time, so I did what I could... Apparently I did a good job. Made me so happy, too. She makes me the happiest person in the world, even with all the insanity she and I deal with and go through on a constant basis. She has already proven to me that she's worth the pain and the struggle. I will make this last. She and I have made several promises to each other over the past couple months, and we both keep our promises. That alone makes it worth it. Happiness ensues!

Friday was... nuts. But I don't want to go into that. It was a mess. Hopefully worth it though. Oh, hopefully, hopefully...

Money is a shitty thing. Know that? It really is. (Going back to) The church is always tight on money. We've always got projects on our hands, and... it's hard to get our hands on everything we need to make those projects pan out. For instance. We're looking to upgrade our A/V system. This... is a big one by itself. We're thinking about adding another projector and screen, and that in itself requires a few modifications. Then, there's the fact that we're going to try to move to live streaming soon of our services. This isn't going to be possible unless we upgrade our network, and some of our sound equipment. By sound equipment, I'm referring to the fact that we need three (new) choir microphones, more boom stands, a couple more (real) vocal and instrument mics... and more XLR cables. Of course, right? I've already done the proposal for that. We're looking at... six or seven hundred dollars for that. Then, to make the network able to handle live streaming, I'm looking at an entire network upgrade. That means running new cables, crimping, adding in switches... et cetera. A lot of stuff, and not the easiest job in the world. I'm a network tech - we /can/ do it on our own, it just requires volunteer time and the ability to make this all work. Oh, and we're looking at a grand worth of new gear, cabling... yeah. I hope we can make it all work.

Oh yeah! I'm getting back into school in March. Right around the corner almost... Two classes, but they're six hours a week a piece. Fortunately, don't have to worry about cost of a parking pass, because they're not on the main campus. Should be... survivable. Just have to knock it out. I have the motivation this time.... I hope. Here's to hope and the hope that a job will work around my school.

So. (Time for another two seventy topic change.) I am an Empath. I absorb people's emotions. As a (direct, possibly) result of this, I do what I can to help other people - especially my friends and family. I listen to what they have to say, I offer my advice when they need it, I do everything in my power to just be there for them. Unfortunately, this means I absorb... a hell of a lot. This leads to me needing somebody I can turn to when things get too bad. As of right now, I have... one... maybe two? people in this world I can turn to. Naturally, everything hits particularly hard at night - around midnight, 01.00. This sucks particularly hard, because both of those people I can turn to are either asleep, or just can't handle anything more at that point. Hard to deal with. This morning, one of the two people pinged me and basically told me that she couldn't constantly deal with it. Which... kinda leaves me fraked. Big time. And blogging only does so much good... I don't even know if anybody reads this, so I'm not sure if it really matters. Don't know.

Blah. Grocery run time. Then... food? And gotta write that proposal. Which is more of a report then a proposal... a "Why we need two grand worth of gear to do this" kind of report. And possibly present it to the committee...

Until next time.

Peace.

Hiding

(Yes, I've been slacking on posts. Apologies... Trying to get into the swing of it again, but failing rather miserably. Trying!)

One of the hardest parts of being transgender - androgynous, bi-gender, whatever - is that sometimes you have to hide who you are. Whether it be from (blood) family, from (church) family, from... whoever it is that you have to worry about, it frakin' SUCKS.

I point out the two specific examples above for a reason...
I have a fairly large blood family. My mom had eight brothers and sisters, and most of them have kids, and their kids have had kids. My sister and I are the fourth and third youngest of all of our first cousins - and you have to figure, I'm twenty. Out of my entire blood family, beyond my immediate family, there are... what, two, maybe three people who know that I am what I am? And that's on my Mom's side. On my Dad's side, nobody knows.
As for church family.... Nobody there knows. If they knew, there's no way I'd even be allowed inside the doors. No matter if our Pastor thinks that everybody deserves ministry, no matter if there are members of the downtown campus that are oriented that way... Out there, where I go, there are too many older members who would cause an uproar. At least... That's what I'm afraid of, anyway. Whether it's the truth or not...

Friday night, our immediate family was going to dinner in a larger town about an hour and a half away to give my sister the drive time. Up until this point, I haven't really worn any.... female clothing in front of my dad. I decided to that night. As we were getting ready to walk out of the house, both my parents saw my shoes - a pair of mary janes - and mom told me to change into boots, while dad said that my shoes "disturbed" him. Now... This frustrated me, extremely. My dad claims to be this heavily liberal guy who taught my sister and me acceptance of everybody -- yet he can't accept the fact that one of his children is transgender and wants to express who they are? Really, really frustrating. Yesterday - Saturday, I asked Mom why they had done that, telling her how much it had hurt and frustrated me. Her response: They aren't comfortable with it.

My Mom was raised in the Catholic church. Between my Dad's atheism and the brutal shit of this world and its reality, she broke away from it, to become a Humanist (slash agnostic). Yet... Yet, she still can't accept me for who I am. As we were sitting in the parking lot of one of my (non-blood) sister's apartment complexes, I looked at her and basically said that I was still me, in the head, but my body just... wasn't so much a reflection of who I am anymore. She still insists that it's not normal.

I don't want to hide it from my parents, but they make it hard to be open about it.

And then... Then, there are my best friends' parents. Heavily Christian. Very... homophobic. She is bisexual, and there have been a couple times where she and I have talked, and she's told me about what they've said. Needless to say, she hides from them. Now this girl... is my ex. And I'm hopefully going to get back with her. (No, not my most recent ex.) I say this though, because she and I both have to hide from them who we are. If they knew she was bisexual, they'd go nova. If they knew I was transgender, they'd go nova on me, and I wouldn't ever be allowed to see her again. So... I have to hide. It is a necessity. But... it drives me nuts.

I've been realizing lately that my gender is swinging farther and farther... I'm not so sure I'm actually Bi+Gender anymore. In my own head, I've been feeling more and more like a girl in a guy's body, and it's been causing a trapped feeling. I desperately need to go see a gender psychologist or something. Problem is, right now, that's not possible... Don't have health insurance, and I'm not even sure that having health insurance would cover a visit like that. That, and I want to go see our regular doctor and see if he can do a test that would determine testosterone and estrogen levels...  'Course, don't know if the health insurance would cover that either... Hopefully.

I'll rant about the health care system another day. Won't that be a scary one...

I guess I wish I knew when I could just quit hiding who I really am. When will our society come to terms with the fact that some of us just aren't... normal? I've been reading a blog elsewhere online that deals with LGBT bullying, and it's rather ugly. I have lost track of the number of times he has posted about teen suicides thanks to bullying. It hurts to read each of those posts, and it makes me wonder why we can't just all get along? I mean, honestly. We're human. All of us. Strip us down to our cores, our atoms. Where are we different? We really aren't. We're all the same basic core. Each of us just has a different personality that makes us unique. There is nothing wrong with that!

I'll say it again - there is nothing wrong with being unique. NOTHING. I don't know how else to express that.

So, when can we stop hiding who we are? What will it take?

Until next time.

Peace.

Gay, Straight, Transgender - What's it Matter?

(I don't normally post twice in one day, but considering it's been how many weeks now...? Double posting. Coming right up!)

"Hey! You're male!" "Hey! You're female!" "Hey...! You're... Gay! And you're... Lesbian! (Insert remark of disgust here.)" "Hey! You're straight!" "You asshole!" "Fucker!" "Ew, an Athiest!" (Think I've noted enough?)

All fracking day. Every fracking day. We just enjoy labelling each other, don't we? It's like we need these labels for everyday life, like we depend on them. Even I have noticed myself over these past few months using labels more than I'd like. I've never been one for calling somebody gay - not in my nature. Always been opposed to using said label. But calling someone an asshole? Ohhh yeah. All the time.

The problem is, we really have become reliant on these labels. They are our descriptors. Sometimes, it's not such a bad thing that they are used ("She's smart!"), but then there are times when they become dangerous - times like when a person uses a racial slur, or a homophobic term. That gets to people. It's called bullying, and it's why we have such a high suicide rate (especially amongst LGBTQ teens).

If you've walked the halls of a high school in the past ten years (I wouldn't recommend it, but hey, some of us have had to - or currently have to), you'd notice the sheer amount of language being thrown around - and I'm not talking Shakespeare being quoted either. I'm talking phrases like "What up, nigga?" and "That's so gay!" ... What the hell, gang? "Nigger" was a racial slur used to refer to African Americans some years ago, and is still an ugly term, yet I used to hear it being thrown around, all the time. A phrase I've always fought strongly was "That's so gay!" No. Is it happy? No? Then no, it's not 'gay'! Shut up.

As usual, the threat of labels does depend on the people involved. If it happens to be somebody who doesn't care, or knows how to brush them off, it's not going to matter... But if it's somebody who has heard it one too many times or is just tired of it, the offender might find their nose bent in ways it shouldn't be, or a couple of ribs misshapen.

I always feel a little sense of.... vengeful happiness when somebody who has hurt somebody else gets the hurt repaid to them more times over. I am not one to do much damage - I try my best not to - and I certainly don't like seeing somebody get hurt, but sometimes it's just too much and it feels like somebody needs to pay. It's those people, the ones that like to insult others with these ugly, painful labels, that need to get that repayment.

I'm getting off subject.

We need to watch our labels, in whatever walks of life. Maybe I'm biased, but it especially needs to be taken care of in the LGBT sections of reality. I've known - at least indirectly - two teenagers who have taken their own lives thanks to torment like this. What kind of shit is that? How is that... right? It isn't.

In the end though, what does it matter who you are, much less what others label you? A label is a generality placed on somebody because other people can't fathom the depths of the labeled person. It doesn't matter though what they're called. They are a PERSON. They are who they are. Nothing more, nothing less. It is not up to us to judge who that person is - there is nobody on this brown Earth that has the right to judge another person, much less state it.

Leave other people to be, and be yourself. If everybody were to do that, peace would actually be achievable...

(By the way, did you notice my minor Battlestar Galactica kick there earlier? I'm watching the series again... Be warned! Muahahahaha!)

Until next time.

Peace.

Few Weeks and Insanity

Been a few weeks since I last threw something up on here. Last day of December.... Hey everyone.

So it's been a quiet past few weeks. Job hunting, mainly. Unfortunately, nothing yet - three weeks, and several applications later, no calls. Sucks, but welcome to reality.

There is an Aikido class at a library near my house, so I'm going to start going to that. It's fun. The warm up exercises are much more of an aerobic version, and then we do similar wrist exercises to what I'm used to. The style of teaching is different, plus so far, there have only been a couple terms used that I'm actually used to. Overall, it's almost like learning a completely new art, which I have no issues with. The Sensei is one that I trained under for several years while the old club was still completely together, and I have a friend already in the class, so it should be good. Two weeks down so far with this class, and it's turning out well. Except for an almost sprained wrist....

Couple weeks ago, while I was at a shop getting dinner for my family, I was out and about in my flats like normal, and for the first time, somebody spoke against me. A man a few places in line behind me looked at me and said, "Nice shoes" all manly like. I snorted and continued my ordering, but was cautious for the rest of the time in there, until I was out the door, in my car, and gone. For the first time in a long time, I was actually afraid I might have to use my kubatans - and was glad that I carried them. It was a relief to get out of the parking lot and be able to confirm I wasn't being followed.

Few days ago - the 12th - was the first time it has really snowed here. It was Thursday night, and I had to take my sister to work. We ate at a shop, took our time, then left to get her to work. It was snowing hard, and my windshield had already frozen. At this point, my windshield wipers almost completely failed, and I had to wait for the defrost to take care of the better part of it. At that point, the car already had a couple issues - she needed a new battery and new tires across the board - and then we had to add another issue to the list. I got my sister to work, dropped her off, then headed back home. Between the snow, the road already getting slick, bad tires, and wind, it was a very interesting trip. The kind of trip that a driver doesn't break forty miles an hour for fear of being blown off course - and this was on main roads. The weekend later, after this happened, we went in and took care of the battery and tires. Let's just say that the car now has pretty damned good traction. (I tested it. Hehehe.)

My sister needed my help this past weekend with a psych project, so I went over there all day Monday to help (she had the day off). Well, of course, being the techie I am, I figured it'd be easy. Nope. Camera was a pain in my ass. Trying to capture didn't work. Couldn't make the camera and my computer play nicely, or even really play at all. It just didn't work out. This coming Sunday, we're scrapping the original idea and working on a new idea to finish quickly... Ugh. Stupid cameras.

Within the past few weeks, my second-most-recent-ex and I have been spending time together, and we figured out that we never really got over each other. Tried, but we didn't. I'm hopefully going to get back together with her... She wants me to be romantic about it, so it should be... fun.

Now here's to hoping that I can get a job so I can use the car when it's time to actually go ask her out... Also... Need to find potatoes. Which means telling Mom I need her to buy a bag and we can make potato soup. Or something.

Anyways. Those were the past few weeks. Now, to the fun parts...

If you live anywhere with 'net access, you've probably heard about SOPA and PIPA. They're shitty pieces of legislation that would have destroyed what the very internet stands on - free speech and DNS. If we'd destroyed those two things - which is exactly what those two bills would have done - there would have been a LOT of issues. More than just a lot, actually. Google said a few days back that if they passed, Youtube was going dark, immediately. Facebook could have easily been taken down, what with everything on it that could be considered "pirated". Ebay. Wikipedia. Craigslist. The list goes on as to what would have been hit. It was bullshit. Wednesday, the 18th, the Internet responded.

Its message? "Don't fuck with our tubes."

English Wikipedia went dark for twenty four hours. Google blacked out its logo. More sites than can be kept track of did various things. People changed their facebook profile pictures to a mark saying their picture had been removed by SOPA. (I participated in that one.) People called their senators and representatives, flooded them with emails, and just in general told them to shut their bullshit spillers and get RID of these stupid, shitty pieces of legislation.

It worked - for now. Both bills have been pulled, temporarily, if not permanently. But the problem is, even though the immediate danger is in the past, sometime soon, probably in a year or two, somebody is going to shove something like this through on the backs of another bill - appropriations, or a "save the children's education" bill, something like that. At which point, if we're not careful... our tubes could be blasted.

The public woke up, if briefly, and fought these things, and even defeated them. But we're asleep again. Didn't take much time, unfortunately. We're like that - we like our sleep. Lazy, that's us. I read on another blog where somebody hoped that SOPA or PIPA would pass, because it might actually wake us up and force us to realize just how much is wrong with this country.

Personally? I say we fire the entire lot of politicians. Every. Single. One of them. (Except Obama - and maybe even him!) And then, we rewrite ALL of it. Politicians don't get paid except a stipend for when they're in office and can't spend the time at a real job, and then once their term is up, they get paid absolutely no more. Also - they can't be allowed to vote to raise their own stipends. Companies and lobbyist groups won't be allowed to fill the campaign coffers with huge amounts of money to make sure the wrong people get re-elected. Limit the number of terms a senator or representative can run consecutively. Place a limit on how much a campaign can spend so that everyone will have an equal shot. Who will run for office then?

Those who actually want to make a DIFFERENCE in this country. Those who see what this place could be and want to make it as such. Those who aren't just about the power.

I've been rolling around an idea for how to rebuild the government from the ground up, starting with a world government, but I'll outline that at a later point.

My Dad and I got to discussing government a bit back and as he pointed out, our government does things slowly because if it could do things quickly, things could go too quickly to one end or the other. In the end, everything mostly balances out. At this point though, it's time to rework everything, because that's what we need in a big way.

Anyway. Enough politics. I'm going to drive myself nuts if I don't stop there.

Pretty sure that's basically it for now... So I'm going to shut my ranter and get outta here.

Until next time.

Peace.