My son just told me this morning that Ex finally wants to start taking him on the weeknights while I get him on the weekends. Yes, it makes lots of sense as I've said here before and yes, I'm glad they got around to telling me before I bought the makings of tonight's dinner, but they didn't tell me before I made social plans for Saturday. I feel guilty about that, even though he's nearly twenty years old. Plan: fancy lunch on Saturday.
I got an answer to the question of how well I pass today: a mentally ill or high-as-a-kite woman with weirdly protruding eyes on the bus this morning asked me, between flailing her arms, nearly wiggling out of her seat, and pestering the Job-like woman in front of her, "Were you a dude?"
I searched for the right words for a second. "I know what you're saying, and yes." Sure, I should have said, "I never really was," but consider my audience. Besides, I get flustered by irrational people.
"Right on, brother!" Yeah, she's black. I could tell she was straining with the effort of code-switching; that was one of many reasons I felt a little sorry for her.
"Sister, these days."
"I like your energy, how you carry yourself." Yeah, we're still on the west coast.
"Thanks."
She mentioned that she'd seen me around Benaroya Hall (Seattle's symphony hall, for you out-of-towners), which is near where I work so I do run errands around there from time to time. I've always enjoyed looking distinctive in some ways - the Elder Goths taught me well - but this was an instance when I wish I hadn't looked so memorable.
Speaking of being trans, the current occupant of the White House is cranking up the hate on us via attempted ACA repeal and rule changes affecting HHS. If you live in a district with a Republican representative, please help kill that zombie bill.
I got an answer to the question of how well I pass today: a mentally ill or high-as-a-kite woman with weirdly protruding eyes on the bus this morning asked me, between flailing her arms, nearly wiggling out of her seat, and pestering the Job-like woman in front of her, "Were you a dude?"
I searched for the right words for a second. "I know what you're saying, and yes." Sure, I should have said, "I never really was," but consider my audience. Besides, I get flustered by irrational people.
"Right on, brother!" Yeah, she's black. I could tell she was straining with the effort of code-switching; that was one of many reasons I felt a little sorry for her.
"Sister, these days."
"I like your energy, how you carry yourself." Yeah, we're still on the west coast.
"Thanks."
She mentioned that she'd seen me around Benaroya Hall (Seattle's symphony hall, for you out-of-towners), which is near where I work so I do run errands around there from time to time. I've always enjoyed looking distinctive in some ways - the Elder Goths taught me well - but this was an instance when I wish I hadn't looked so memorable.
Speaking of being trans, the current occupant of the White House is cranking up the hate on us via attempted ACA repeal and rule changes affecting HHS. If you live in a district with a Republican representative, please help kill that zombie bill.
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Date: 2017-05-04 02:51 am (UTC)From: