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Gwen’s Little Spot
The mental scribblings and daily doings of one transgender woman, writer, and activist, with content somehow deemed good enough to win a 2004 “Queery“ award.
Saturday, August 30, 2003
Posted: 11:11:00 PM
1. Go here now.
2. Print it out and put it in your wallet (next to your Pope card, your Miskatonic U. Library Card, and your Bavarian Illuminati Membership Card, of course).
3. Be a Tsar.
You know you want to. Besides, all your friends are doing it.Cheers,
Gwen
Friday, August 29, 2003
Posted: 11:19:00 PM
So today in my mailbox was my slightly-belated birthday gift from my mom.
No, she did not forget my birthday. She is just often somewhat tardy when it comes to shipping things.
Anyway, my mom got me a really nice pair of silver and amber earrings. They are really pretty: if my cheap-ass digital camera would allow me to do close-up shots, I’d post one of ‘em here. But it doesn’t, so I won’t.
Instead, I’ll give you some background.
A couple of years back — say 1998 or so — my mom had bought matching necklaces for her and and my Sister, Megan. Yes, you guessed it, they were silver and amber. During a visit down south, my mom met me at the airport wearing hers, and I told her how much I liked it.
Well, I guess that she stored away that information, because that year — for either my birthday or for Yule — I was given a very similar necklace. I do not know if she had actually bought three and just hadn’t given me mine, or if she went back and got the third. Either way, it doesn’t matter. What matters is the gesture.
That necklace was the first piece of “feminine stuff” my mom ever got for me. It was further symbolic given that all the women in our immediate family unit (me, my mom, and my sis) had ‘em. That sort of symbolism of “similar items for all members of a gender” was long-standing in my family.
I already had a good idea I was getting earrings this year, as my sis had double-checked to make sure I had pierced ears. She knew I did, but my mom wasn’t sure.
Still, I didn’t know that they would be a match for the necklace. Rather nice, as I’d been looking for earrings to with that necklace, so I could wear it more often.
More than that, it’s a nice affirmation that I do indeed belong amongst the others in my family. That means a lotCheers,
Gwen
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Posted: 12:32:00 AM
Okay, so I guess a transwoman who is into cars would find this funny.
Vulvaline?
Did you ever notice how similar their logos are?
I hope no one ever mixes these up at the ol’ supermarket!
(Do you think that’s funny, too? Then vote for this blog already! Shameless, I know)
Cheers,
Gwen
Monday, August 25, 2003
Posted: 5:21:00 PM
• A friend of mine in ”The Vagina Monologues” (Win Media)
Link-a-palooza
• A most unfortunate headline
• A good comic on a serious issue
• An ironic end to one of my own life stories (read below)
In 1993, I got into a car accident. I was driving my Rambler to work on day, and the roads were a little slick from one of those brief Southern California rainstorms. Just enough to get the roads slippery.
So I was buzzing down Arrow Highway, heading into “downtown” San Dimas (“Excellent!”) when a red light crept up on me just a little quicker than I was ready for (“Bogus!”). I hit the breaks a little too hard as well, sending me into the next lane over from me.
Unfortunately, a mid-1970s Tioga motorhome was in that lane, and it was simply unable to stop in time. It hit my driver’s side front fender, and the force of the hit caused my car to go up against the side of the motorhome. Ask me, and I can still show you the damage.
His motorhome also was dented around the driver’s side front headlight, was gouged on the side (from Little Car’s rear passenger door handle), and his septic tank outflow was knocked out of place.
Anyway, we exchanged information, and at a later meeting to settle up (I did not have insurance, and I doubt he did either — we did not report the accident), he started the conversation with a question.
“Are you a Christian?”
I’ll admit, I lied through my teeth, saying “Yes!”
You see, his belief was that my car had been thrown by Satan into his, and that we were therefore somehow destined to meet. So I could help him with his little project.
You see, he was traveling the United States, starting “Christian Law Enforcement” projects, in an effort to get the police to enforce both the law of the land and God’s law. It was his way of seeing God’s work was done.
And, he offered, we could consider the matter of the car wreck finished with a small favor on my part. Design a flyer and make some photocopies to help his cause.
I did ‘em, about 20 bucks worth of copies. A lot less than the cost I would have incurred to fix his septic tank, I’m sure. I delivered them to him at a coffee shop he frequented, the Palms, which was on my way home from work.
I recall hearing a month or two later about a shooting and robbery there, but never did hear the details.
So I guess Mr. Hallam, emboldened by his beliefs and his work near law enforcement made him think he could stop this punk with a knife. Misguided as he was, I cannot say that his death — while it does have some perverse poetry embedded in it — was a good thing.
Actually, I’m not sure how I feel about it all, but that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.Cheers,
Gwen
Posted: 11:33:00 AM
Mind Media Brain Persuasion Test
-----
Your Brain Usage Profile
Auditory : 43%
Visual : 56%
Left : 47%
Right : 52%
Gwen, you exhibit an even balance between left- and right- hemisphere dominance and a slight preference for visual over auditory processing. With a score this balanced, it is likely that you would have slightly different results each time you complete this self-assessment quiz.
You are a well-rounded person, distinctly individualistic and artistic, an active and multidimensional learner. At the same time, you are logical and disciplined, can operate well within an organization, and are sensitive towards others without losing objectivity. You are organized and goal-directed. Although a “thinking” individual, you “take in” entire situations readily and can act on intuition.
You sometimes tend to vacillate in your learning styles. Learning might take you longer than someone of equal intellect, but you will tend to be more thorough and retain the material longer than those other individuals. You will alternate between logic and impulse. This vacillation will not normally be intentional or deliberate, so you may experience anxiety in situations where you are not certain which aspect of yourself will be called on.
With a slight preference for visual processing, you tend to be encompassing in your perceptions, process along multidimensional paths and be active in your attacking of situations or learning.
Overall, you should feel content with your life and yourself. You are, perhaps, a little too critical of yourself — and of others — while maintaining an “openness” which tempers that tendency. Indecisiveness is a problem and your creativity may not be in keeping with your potential. Being a pragmatist, you downplay this aspect of yourself and focus on the more immediate, obvious and the more functional.
-----
Damn, normally, I see these sorts of tests are guesswork, but this one got pretty darned close on me. About as close as Meyers-Briggs.Cheers,
Gwen
Saturday, August 23, 2003
Posted: 10:03:00 AM
Gawd, I feel like a media hog or something!
Aside from my own column being out this week in the Bay Area Reporter (one I’m pretty pleased with, too), I was quoted in two different stories for Gay.com/PlanetOut.com (one on the recent D.C. killings, and one on injectible silicone use) and in one piece for the Washington Post.
Further, while I don’t know if anything was used, the D.C. NBC affiliate called me for quotes, and both the Indy Star and Washington Post (again) have pieces in the works that they’ve talked with me about.
It just happens, really — now if only all this paid the bills!Cheers,
Gwen
Thursday, August 21, 2003
Posted: 3:33:00 PM
Why is it that a sniper can kill three people over 11 days in West Virginia, and this is national news at the top of CNN’s hour, and yet three transgendered people can be attacked in DC is less time, two of those can be killed (and one near-death), and this story is only shown locally?
Just curious.Cheers,
Gwen
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Posted: 11:40:00 PM
So tonight I participated in my first “flash mob.”
For the uninitiated, this is a sudden gathering of people at a predetermined location at a predetermined time. People in flash mobs usually perform according to a written script, then disperse quickly. Flash mobs can be for many purposes but most groups —�like the SF mob project —�stick to having fun.
It’s random silliness. A little moment of organized chaos, if you will.
Take for instance tonight’s event.
Through the mob project yahoogroup, we had been informed that we had to meet at one of three bars/coffeehouses along Powell Street @ 6:00 pm, where a mob rep would pass out our instructions. Bon an I went to Cafe Espresso at Powell and Sutter around 5:45, got ourselves a cuppa and a seat (when one became free) and waited.
I noted that the place seemed unusually busy, and while the staff did their best to accommodate the size of the crowd that was there, it was obviously a bit of work for them. Most of the folks there did, to me, fit the “SF urban computer geek” profile. I fit right in.
Sure enough, a couple of minutes after 6, a blonde-haired woman entered, and started covertly passing around strips of paper through the cafe. We followed the instructions, memorizing the information, then hiding the slip.
The instructions gave up 5 steps to follow, the first of which was to proceed to the lobby of the Westin St. Francis Hotel.
It’s a very nice hotel. A survivor of the ‘06 quake and one of the “ritzier” places in the city. The lobby is all nice marble.
At 6:30 pm on the dot, we all began greeting each each other as if we were long-lost friends. Imagine 200-300 people flooding this lobby, loudly exclaiming, hugging like old comrades, and otherwise carrying on.
If asked what was going on, we had been instructed to say that it was a kindergarten reunion from Omaha.
This was only the first part. At 6:34, after the din that was the “reunion,” we all fell “asleep,” taking a map (complete with snoring) in the middle of the lobby floor. We all “woke up” at 6:36, stretched, then dispersed at 6:37 —�practically over as soon as it began.
Silly, no?
This vibed with me on oh, so many levels. I am an activist, and like being a part of large actions. On top of that, I’ve been involved in both activism and “pranking” since High School, helping to organize both serious protests against religious meddling in my school as well as some wicked fun at the expense of some of our teachers (all good fun, mind you —�no harm). Seeing things like this actually happen as well as it did is really great.
It also worked with my college-era involvement and interest in “performance art” — something I need to do more of someday.
I’m also a big fan of the unusual, and events like St. Stupid’s day or Paul Reubens Day are up my alley. I was part of a marching Contingent in the Doo Dah parade in Pasadena before it became a “fad,” and a Discordian for the last couple of decades. “Flash Mobs” ping very high on my “weird meter,” and for all the right reasons.
I mentioned the high percentage of “’net geeks,” bear in mind that this is a pretty wide category in the Bay Area. Gay, straight, trans, non-trans, genderqueer, artistic, straight-laced, you name it. Age ranges were all over the place. Socioeconomic status, while generally mid-range, were also all over the board. Race was completely mixed. It was a good, diverse crowd, and that I like.
On top of this, that first part: the camaraderie of the “reunion” was wonderful, with everyone sharing this long-lost —�if faux —�friendship. Big hugs all around, and a lot of openness in spite of few of us (I only knew Bonnie, myself) having ever seen each other before. Nice to see that sort of spontaneous caring and friendship, even if it wasn’t “real.”
Oh yes, and looking at the faces of onlookers as they try to grasp what they are seeing. How can you really figure it out? The fine patrons of the St. Francis sure couldn’t. Faces were painted with amusement and bewilderment —�which was, of course, exactly right.
It was well worth my time, this moment of silliness.Cheers,
Gwen
Monday, August 18, 2003
Posted: 5:51:00 PM
So I got a form letter today from Barbara Boxer (U.S. Senator from CA) telling me how proud she is to support S.996 (the Local Law Enforcement Enhancement Act). This dandy form also notes that 175 different organizations support it.
Perhaps she didn’t read my note the first time, and get the fact that I was specifically asking for transgender (actually “gender identity or expression”) inclusion in S. 996.
(Didn’t I just finish on AB 196? When did I become Mrs. Political. Oh, never mind, I know.)
A friend of mine was down this morning, after a weekend of family hell. I wish there was something I could do. At least something to help, somehow.
I do know a lot of what they might be feeling. Frankly, I’d like to just be there with them, but ::sigh:: they are on the other side of the country.
I’m feeling a bit of that distance stuff. When my sis’ boyfriend broke up with her, I would have much rather been somewhere near her, so that we could head out to the cool bars, toss back a few, and have a major bitch-fest. Probably woulda helped. Unfortunately, she’s also a couple hundred miles south of me. Argh!Cheers,
Gwen
Sunday, August 17, 2003
Posted: 3:52:00 PM
Typically, I dream in good, consistant pieces, and last night was no different. Unfortunately, I only recall some small snippets of last night’s dream images.
A lot lighter fare than my last post.
I know that early in the sequence, Bon and I were checking out a new high-rise in San Francisco (well, the SF of my dreams at least). This structure would have likely been in the same rough location as Mission and 16th or so, and would dwarf everything else in the city. A far more apt structure for downtown L.A. or, more likely, N.Y.C. Big white stone and glass building, with a courtyard out front. Very pretty.
Anyway, Bon and I eventually left this place, and started to walk uptown. Traffic was fairly heavy (we had the bedroom window open last night, and it picked up all the traffic off the rather busy street behind us), though I did see, up at Market, an old trolley bus operating on the “F” line.
Aside to non-interurban geeks, the “F” line in SF runs along Market Street and the Embarcadero, running antique streetcars. While some of their busier days have required them to run the occasional modern trolley bus, they do not run older trolley buses on the line.
The car in question, what I saw of it up the street, looked to be a later years L.A. Railway/MTA bus, ca. 1950s-60s. Yellow, green, and white.
Anyway, later images had us in Antioch, which in my dreamworld is consistently depicted as “far from the city.” Even in dreams I can’t escape that this place is just too far away from where I wanna be. Anyway, it was apparently the holidays, and we were either hosting the family holiday party, or attending it. My mom was there, my grandmom (on mom’s side) my sis, hints of other family members being there, and even Christa and Heather, our old roomies. My mom was showing off a “holiday” couch slipcover that was dark green and decorated with lights and ribbons. Nicer than it might seem, though still kinda unusual.
Oh yes, and on the way there, Bon and I pulled off as some “historical site” that was also a restaurant of some nature. This was further notable because there was a 1967 Rambler Rogue out front, in dark blue (similar to one I’ve seen in the local Rambler club) and a pink AMC Javelin, similar to the one once given as a “playmate of the year” prize, though this one was somewhat faded and clearly unrestored.
Ah, the things that pop up in my head sometimes.Cheers,
Gwen
Posted: 2:39:00 PM
So yesterday I happened to catch a program on the History Channel about Pulitzer Prize winning photographs called “Moment of Impact.” In it, they focused largely on three shots, each a compelling image definitely worth of this prize.
Unfortunately, I went hunting on the History Channel web site for additional information on the program, at least something I could link to, but there’s bupkis. Besides, I’m not really going to talk here about these images, but about passion.
You see, these three photojournalists they spoke with, as well as others who were there when the images were shot, hit on some things that resonated with me. The biggest was the last of the three they covered.
Not that the image of people plummeting off the roof of a Boston apartment — an image that no-one with a soul cannot look at without letting out a gasp — is not worth exploring, nor can one criticize the importance of a series of photos taken by Don T. Ulang and John Robinson of then-College football star Johnny Bright getting savagely beaten by members of the Oklahoma A&M Aggies. These cannot be faulted.
No, it was the third series that led me to this page today, know as the Tragedy of Sanatoga Road. Perhaps not so much for the subject matter of the photos in question.
In one photograph, a police officer — Chief Detective Douglas Weaver — holding a victim close, trying to reassure her. Her face is hidden in this image, as the photographer Thomas Kelly III, found himself unable to photograph the cuts across her face.
In another image, Richard Griest — who has apparently gone insane and started cutting up members of his family — has momentarily ended up outside of the home he’d been holed up in, with a look of defiance and delirium painted across his face.
Powerful images, to be sure. But the real resonance for me came in the last few moments of this, as they spoke with Chief Detective Weaver. He spoke of how the day still haunts him. How he had nightmares that evening, and still is haunted by the events on Sanatoga Road that Spring day.
There are few days in my life that I can recall with extreme clarity. I can recall the exchange of vows between Bonnie and I like yesterday, and I can still see that moment I saw her across the “quad” at Pasadena City College an hour before the art class we fell in love within. I also recall well looking at her face as she slept, on an early date to the Rose Parade, and asking myself if this was the person, the one I could wake up next to for the rest of my life. You can guess the answer.
I can recall the moment I first heard of transsexuality and made the connection between myself and that word, pouring out of the AM radio in the dash of my parents ‘63 Dodge Dart. I also strongly recall the moment I told my parents, and the pain my words caused them.
Only one moment haunts me like those images in Douglas Weaver’s mind. It’s a moment that, to this day, makes my eyes tear up, as if to release this firmly lodged image from my eyes like some monumental speck of dust.
It was a few seconds spent in the viewing of Gwen Araujo.
Some moments of that day play in my mind like dream images. Looking at the photo-montages at the door of the viewing room, or seeing the sea of people who felt it important to be there that day. Other images are sharp in clarity, like singing “Amazing Grace” with a hundred or so others outside the funeral, our voices, choked with tears, rising strong and true — or the time spent walking with a friend, standing near her while she threw up bile and pain a couple of blocks from the viewing.
I remember well hugging Bon after stepping from the viewing, with a number of other people, similarly shaken, also holding each other. I also recall returning the favor a few minutes later, as Bonnie expressed her own fears and pain.
But there is no image so burned into my mind as the viewing myself. I can still hear the crying, the anger and hurt from the close family and friends who were present in that room. I still can feel the very air of that room, still and tense, heightening the dimmed lighting and cloying closeness of that seemingly all-too-small viewing room.
At first, I was sure if I was going to be able to look, if I was going to summon the courage. In the end, I did, looking straight into the face of Gwen Araujo.
It will sound funny, though I do not mean it as such. The funeral home had done their absolute best with her, making her look like she was in a pleasant rest. He face was pretty, with makeup hiding the bruises and damage left by her killers. She did not look like someone who had spent more than two weeks in a shallow grave, but like someone who may have just gone to sleep the night before.
The only betrayal of the embalmer’s art was in the shallowness of her face and — especially — hands. She had lost a lot of volume and fluid, and it showed in the ever-so-slightly skeletal case of her body. Her hands, so carefully manicured and painted silver, festooned with fingerless black lace gloves, were simply too thin, betraying the best attempts to portray this 17-year-old as simply lying in this casket, taking a short nap.
It is this image — this moment — that is seared into my mind, leaving a mark as indelible as a branding iron.
I wrote about it an evening or so after the Funeral and Viewing, this image and how it sat just at the rear of my eyes. That was about nine or ten months ago, and that image is still there.
As much as this image pains me and fuels me, I know that it is nothing — or at least much much less — in comparison to what Gwen’s family feels.
It is that image now that fuels my passion. I do not want to see another Gwen Araujo, nor do I want anyone else to feel what I felt that day, let alone what Sylvia Guerrero and the rest of the family went though last October.
Like Chief Detective Weaver, who remains haunted by an Spring day in 1978, I know that I too will be carrying my experiences for decades — perhaps even my lifetime. I Know that I cannot avoid writing about them like I am now, nor can I stop working against anti-transgender violence. It’s a passion, and passion is not so easily tossed aside.Cheers,
Gwen
Friday, August 15, 2003
Posted: 1:23:00 PM
It’s Friday, so here’s some links:
My Summer Vacation in New York (funniest link I’ve seen today.)
God’s Little Ones (freakiest link I’ve seen today — may load slow.)
To end all sex change operations (most disturbing link I’ve seen today.)
More later...Cheers,
Gwen
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
Posted: 2:46:00 PM
Anyone happen to have any really big curlers? I’m feeling experimental.
The Traditional Hairdressing Page
Yes, I know — I’m a sucker for those mid-’60s hair styles. When I was a kid, our family used to get our hair cut as a salon that happened to be in the same small strip of buildings as my dad’s photography studio. So I suspect I grew up with a certain level of Aqua-Net in my veins. Nevertheless, I’ve not typically done much with my hair, ’cuz I’m all thumbs with the stuff.
No better time to learn, I guess.Cheers,
Gwen
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Posted: 8:52:00 PM
Another upcoming speaking gig that I’ve not mentioned here before.
November 13th, I will be presenting a brief lecture and Q & A on anti-transgender violence and murder on the evening of Thursday, November 13 at the University of Michigan. There will also be a “Brown Bag” Discussion on Friday, November 14 at Noon.
Yes, this is in addition to the OSU dates: Saturday, November 15th for an anti-transgender violence and murder discussion at Noon in Columbus, Ohio (444 W. Broad St.), and a 55-minute workshop the same day, also in Columbus. Those are being presented courtesy of GLBT Student Services of OSU.
While I’m mentioning this, if there are others reading this who happen to be involved with any universities that might be willing to have me speak, and can put a good word or three in, I’d greatly appreciate it. I’m not taking any booking after the November 15th date at this time (at least not until the start of 2004), but would be willing to book something prior to the above dates.
Craziness, Bon thinks. After all, I have to be back in SF for the Transgender Day of Remembrance on the 20th.Cheers,
Gwen
Posted: 5:04:00 PM
Just a quick note: I’ve “joined” Freedom Forum, and you can now vote for this blog (though who’d wanna?) by clicking the little button below.
I’ve also added this little widget to the bottom of this page, next to the ol’ required “Blogger” thingy.Cheers,
Gwen
Posted: 10:59:00 AM
Autogynephilia.
For those of you reading who may not know what that is, I’ll explain in the most basic terms I can muster. It is a concept that roughly refers to a person who is fetishistically attracted to the female form — so much in fact, that they are sexually motivated to alter their own body to that of the female form.
I’ve blasted the concept before, especially in the manner to which it is presented in the book, The Man Who Would Be Queen by J. Michael Bailey. One of my reasons for said attacks isn’t that I don’t think there is something to the concept, but that (a) the concept is flawed in it’s definitions and presentation, and (b) it is presented as the only cause for transsexuality, or one of a dichotomy of causes, and ignores other potential causes.
You see, I suspect there are those who do indeed have a fetish-type attachment to the female form, and towards feminizing their bodies. We are humans, and humans have an amazing capacity for turning anything, real or imagined, into a fetish. Some examples that I would consider as, shall we say, unusual, might include:
Agalmatophilia - A fetish for statues/mannequins.
Emetophilia - Arousal from vomit or vomiting.
Formicophilia - Sex play with ants/insects.�
Homilophilia - Arousal from giving or receiving a sermon or speech.
Symphorophilia - Sexual arousal from causing many casualties (train crash, burning hospitals, explosions).
Now I ripped off the above from a very lengthy (but in no way exhaustive: trust me, I’ve heard of plenty of others not listed) from elsewhere off the Web. What I found most interesting is that this list also includes the term autogynephilia, but defines it differently than the Blanchard/Lawrence/Bailey school of thought. It declares it to mean “Sexual excitement from cross dressing.” I do wonder if this is separate from Blanchard’s coining of the term.
I also noted that there were many other sites out there that used the term in that context and that context only: as a alternative, perhaps, to fetishistic crossdressing. Curious.
Anyway...
Like I said above, I am sure that there are people out there who would fit in this “autogynephilic” concept. Look at some of the more extreme “forced feminization” stories out there and you’ll see plenty of examples, IMO, where the sexual ‘trigger’ is not only in the dressing up, the bondage, the “sissification” or whatever, but is also in the transformation of the body.
I can recall a couple of those I read in my early days in the trans community, stuffed amongst the pages of some of the old newsprint publications out of the local L.A. TV/TS “boutiques” which fit that model.
Further, I can’t help but assume that said “autogynephiliacs” (in a Blanchardian sense) would be the target market for products such as the “v-string” type stuff one can pay too much for from Michael Salem’s boutique.
For example, I think that an item like the “Sheath Female Vagina Prosthesis w/ Bladder Control” goes beyond the norm. Why, for 50 bones more, you can even simulate menstruation!
(Am I also the only person whose mind starts to drift towards “Silence of the Lambs” when I look at this thing?)
That actually is what led to this post in the first place. I happened to be sent a spam yesterday from Michael Salem’s company. Actually, I believe it was wrapped in a request to be linked off of one of the resource boards I handle. Still, I find companies like Salem’s to be abhorrent, as they are all about selling cheap items to closeted transfolks for an exorbitant amount of money. For example, paying $79.00 (on sale!) for a cheap makeup kit that one could grab at Wal-Mart for less than 20 bucks (tip to prospective buyers: lipstick does not usually look like a Crayola), or spending $29.00 for a single pair of lacy panties. I still recall what it was like to be closeted and scared, and I spent more than I should have in such places at one time — but even then I knew that Michael Salem’s stuff was overpriced. But I digress.
If there was no market for items like the “vagina prosthesis,” then I might totally discredit this thing called “autogynephilia,” but clearly there are some folks who do get off (pardon) on ‘em. Surely someone is sexually interested in giving at least the illusion of a vaginal opening on their body, overlaying their own genitals, no?
It ain’t that same drive that caused me to go to Neenah for a nip and tuck, however. That’s where the problem is.
Of course, I’m aware that I am by nature a contrarian. Show me two categories, and I’ll show you how neither clearly describes me. Try to shoehorn me into something like Blanchard-styled “autogynephilia,” and I spill out over the sides like a 38D stuffed into a training bra.
It just doesn’t fit.
When I started to seriously contemplate the possibility of genital reconstruction, there was remarkably little sexual arousal from the concept. It wasn’t, in and of itself, a sexually exciting thing. Further, while the thought of future sexual activities were part of my reasonings behind getting them reformed, it was not the driving force any more than any other one reason.
But in a world like Lawrence, Bailey, and Blanchard’s, I have to fit this category (as I fit even less into their homosexual transsexual category), and any evidence that would contraindicate this is either evidence that I am lying or in denial.
To me, that last part is perhaps the biggest problem. While having concrete ‘reasons’ behind transgenderism long since ceased to be all that important to me, I would like to think that if one is going to search for them, they would be open to the possibility that their own dogmas are wrong and need to be further examined. To paraphrase the old Elvis Presley album title, 50,000,000 transsexuals can’t be wrong.Cheers,
Gwen
Sunday, August 10, 2003
Posted: 9:54:00 PM
Bon and I stopped back by the Scottish Renaissance Festival again today, and ya, I spent a wee bit more money at the swordsmith’s booth. Call it an obsession, but I just had to get this one long sword. And it was dirt cheap (for a long sword).
For those curious, yes, I do know my way around a blade. I was taught how to throw daggers when I was around 8 or so, by a local gang member (and then family member). I’ve played with both practice and real swords for years as well, and have owned a knife — a 1898 Mauser bayonet, to be precise — for over two decades. This is, however, the first large format blade I’ve owned.
And no, for those wags out there, I’m not trying to make up for anything I had surgically altered. To heck with Freud.
I also spoke at a PFLAG meeting today, which was good practice. It wasn’t my best talk, I’ll put it that way, still, it went fine for the venue, and I have a few ideas of things to do differently with that talk in the future. It does have potential.
One of the tough things, as I hinted at before, was the topic. Talking about me isn’t something I find easy: which parts will work for the audience, which parts are only going to be interesting to me, that sorta thing. If this had been the Anti-Transgender Violence and Murder presentation, then no problem. That one I have pretty cold, even now.Cheers,
Gwen
Saturday, August 09, 2003
Posted: 4:27:00 PM
So I went to that local Scottish Renaissance Festival today, and found myself at least fairly impressed. Ya, there are issues with their sight lines and a few other things, and I think I only heard one person all day speaking in Queen’s English (that is, Queen’s English, ca. 1580 or so), but it was good.
So many things there I wouldn’t have minded buying. Lots of nice weaponry — flails, swords, fighting axes, etc. — though I only indulged my sharp-bladed weapon fetish by picking up a small dagger and a sgian dubh (Scottish boot dagger). There were also some nice sash pins and even a couple pretty torcs (Celtic neck circlets). Also, one of the leathermakers had the coolest faux “sorting hats” for sale. Spiffy!
Reminded me of what I enjoy about these things — whatever that is. Nothing I can so easily articulate, for sure. I think it has a lot to do with the people there, and the general “vibe” of such events. Granted, they can be little more than a Elizabethan hippie commune, after all.
I took the above photo after getting home, still in garb. Hard to do a lot when you can’t do much makeup, and when yer hair is largely covered, but I think it came out OK.
As an aside, I’ve not worn my costume since starting hormone replacement therapy, which should give you some idea of how long it’s been. On the down side, I am going to have to get a new skirt, as this one is way too tight on me now, thanks to some extra fluff around the hips, butt, and yes, waist. On the plus side, I now have enough up top to wear my bodice correctly, and hang my boobs over the top.
Yes, I know that some of you instantly had to recheck the photo above. Sorry, but I should have shot me from a slightly lower angle.Cheers,
Gwen
Friday, August 08, 2003
Posted: 12:55:00 PM
Okay, so this Friendster thing I mentioned.
It’s an interesting model of community. It’s basically a digital “six degrees of separation,” type thing.
Thus far, I have six “friends” on the system. That is, a friend of mine who has “linked up” with my own page, as it were. Only people who are linked so, and there friends, friends, friends (I’m not sure what level it gets to: I think 8) can contact me.
Now assume that each of those friends have 5 friends. That means there are 36 persons, now those friends have 5 friends, and were up to 186 persons. They have friends, and so on, and so on.
As of this moment, my “personal network” has 82,179 people in it. It’s a whole Lotta people. And with the crowd I have with, it’s a whole lot of very interesting people. Not necessarily interesting in a “Peter Pan” sort way, but very good nonetheless!
I’m just full of interesting links today, aren’t I?
Another quick one: I may get to a local Scottish Renaissance Festival on Saturday. They’re site is on Angelfire, though, so it may or may not be up. I suspect I may be dissapointed by this one, having grown up with the Renaissance Pleasure Faire and all. Heck, one can see cars in some of the shots on Scottish Renaissance Festival’s site — and modern folding chairs!
(And yes, I know I’m slacking. I’ll get writing. Soon. Honest!)Cheers,
Gwen
Posted: 11:21:00 AM
A cheap laugh?
I was never into those Strawberry Shortcake dolls — they came out too late for me — but they do seem to be on a retro-nostalgia wave right now. Which makes the above comic timely all over again. Or something.
Addendum:
This character did “change sex.” It is mentioned on at least one fan page.Cheers,
Gwen
Posted: 10:33:00 AM
First off, I hate having to re-type entries. I always end up forgetting the best stuff. That will teach me not to try to drag and drop from Tex-Edit+ into a form field in Internet Explorer anytime soon.
Oh well, as I was about to say...
What can be a small task becomes a lot of work when I have to delay. Such was the case of updating the Transmissions columns in the ol’ writing section of this site. But they are up now, finally, and go right up to the current issue on the newsstands now. Issues all the way back to June, for goodness’ sake.
Which reminds me: is this year going by fast, or is it just me? I feel like it should still be April or May, and here it is, August already. Yikes. I guess it is an indication of how busy I’ve been as of late, and the really busy time of my year is still upcoming, with DOR planning already underway, and the upcoming speaking gigs.
I have one of those this weekend, albeit a small one for the San Francisco chapter of PFLAG. These can be hard for me, as it’s one of those “tell us about your life in a trans context” sorta talks. The hard part about writing this one is going to be finding a “hook” that is interesting for both me and them.
On that topic, I finally got a chance to talk with my Aunt (of choice) on Thursday, and she gave me some fab tips on all this speaking stuff. Like stuff on agents, and some killer promotional ideas. If yer reading this, thanks! Now I just need to implement them. :-)
Anyway, a lot going on here, so I’d best get done here. Maybe next time I’ll get into my recent foray onto Friendster (I did in the version of this post I lost — Grr), but for now I’ll leave you with a different fun link, of sorts.
I like to find some of the more, shall we say, “off-beat” paths on the Web, and find individuals who are marching to their own drums. Heck, sometimes marching to their own accordion.
One of my all time faves is Ouchy the Clown. I especially like sharing this link with others, just to see the perplexed look on their faces as they try to figure out if it is for real. I had that same look once too, and yes, he is. Seen him in the flesh and, er, blood, I have.
Here’s another one that a friend tipped me off to yesterday. Check out Scotty Bunny. Good stuff. I would hate to live in a world without folks like Ouchy or Scotty running around.
More later.Cheers,
Gwen
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Posted: 11:13:00 PM
Governor Gary Coleman?
Decisions, Decisions...
Governor Angelyne?
Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger?
Governor Larry Flynt?
Or how about Bustamante, Bock, Camejo, Simon, Issa, Riordan, or McClintock?
Maybe a Huffington or two?
Maybe one of the other couple hundred candidates?
How about Gray Davis beating out Gray Davis?
Oy vey es mir, but this State is a three-ring circus right now!Cheers,
Gwen
Monday, August 04, 2003
Posted: 3:47:00 PM
A little photo of Assemblyman Mark Leno and I, at the AB 196 news conference in San Francisco today.Cheers,
Gwen
Sunday, August 03, 2003
Posted: 11:56:00 AM
I have more rights today than I had yesterday.
Yes, Governor Davis yesterday signed Assembly Bill 196, authored by Assemblyman Mark Leno (way to go Mark!).
What AB 196 is: it amends Section 12926 of, and adds Section 12949 to, the Government Code, relating to discrimination. Existing law prohibits various types of discrimination and harassment based on sex, as defined, in housing and employment.
In laytrans terms, it expands the prohibition on sexual discrimination and harassment by including gender, as defined, in the definition of sex. It permits employers to require employees to comply with reasonable workplace appearance, grooming, and dress standards consistent with state and federal law, provided that employees are allowed to appear or dress consistently with their gender identity.
So, thanks to Governor Davis (the first time he has signed any trans legislation as Gov., I should note), AB 196 is now State law.
Yay!Cheers,
Gwen
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