Is there room for another chapter?

Tue, 27 Jan 2004 22:52:08 GMT

J: I came across your LJ today, which I hadn't looked at in many months. We used to talk every few days, sometimes every day, at least for a few minutes, and you would talk about your transition and I would tell you sordid tales of my ethically slutty existence, thinking you'd like it. The last time we talked was about a month ago, and before that it had been at least another month. That last conversation was awkward...I'm sorry I offended you by making fun of the chest hair thing. I'm sorry I said that, hon, but I don't find body hair attractive, and I realise that you see this as a symbol of your masculinity, but I don't need symbols to see you as masculine. I don't think you get that. And I mean absolutely no offense when I say that I don't find chest hair sexy. I've always preferred my boys to be non-furry. But I wouldn't be absolutely appalled by it, either, I'm well aware that it's a part of you... I guess maybe it hadn't really sunk in to me that you are, really, becoming a Man. What I mean is that I've always seen you as a male, a boy (you're 19, which to me makes you still a boy), a guy, definitely NOT a girl, but not a Man either.

So here's what I'm bothered by and trying to come to terms with and don't know how to say to you: I don't know how I feel about men. I have problems with str8 men, and now you're one of them. This isn't transphobia, but I think it is manphobia. I don't want to sleep with men, but I'm attracted to boys (meaning male people over 18 who are boy-like, not minors!) You know how much I also like for my girls to be like boys... *sigh* I like you so much, and goddamn you're super fucking cute, but I don't know what to say to you these days. This is part of the reason why I often tried to turn the conversation back to my sordid slutty tales... because I didn't know what else to talk to you about.

I want to talk to you. I want to tell you how in love I am and how I'm finally meeting wonderful people down here and I'm moving into a new apartment this weekend and how much fun I'm having with the leatherdyke crew and the kings. Do you want to know? I don't know the landmines and I keep stepping on them, and I'm tired of constantly watching what I say to you...

There's a real cool club on the other side of town...

Tue, 27 Jan 2004 02:51:48 GMT

Finally jumpin on the LJ bandwagon... why now, after so long of insisting upon writing my thoughts only in velvet-covered notebooks? I don't know. Maybe I'm going through an especially narcisstic period and want to share my thoughts with the world.

Today I was having coffee with D, a somewhat new maybe-friend, and we got onto the topic of not feeling cool. She said, Why do you at your age still care? My age being all of 23 years, and I care because... because I fucking care. She did peg me as the kid who was NOT the cool kid in high school. Or even college. When I first moved to this new city, I had it in my head that I would suddenly be Cool (because I am finally at a point in my life where I do definitely like myself). But I wanted to not just be sorta cool but cool like those super-cool girls I see with betty page bangs and awesome tattoos and just the right amount of irony... Do I have too much irony? Or not enough? Do I just end up looking dorky when I'm trying for dork chic? That's really very tongue-in-cheek...

I do have an awful lot of friends and wonderful sexin' in my life, and v. cool things going on, but there's just something. Like I don't know what to say to strangers at parties, which my friends find hysterical because I talk more than anyone in the universe, but I don't know how to make meaningless small talk. And then I somehow manage to completely shock and/or offend people because some totally joking comment about dirty hippies slips out (I *have* to get that censor fixed...) or because I get all feminist and shit... or not feminist enough. I really can't win.

ninsiana

Is there room for another chapter?

There's a real cool club on the other side of town...