(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.

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.

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.