BITCH BITCH BIIIITCH
I think it's pretty sad when you're too preoccupied with a cat on your lap to write a simple blog.
Sad... or magieficent?
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I've been thinking about gender lately, because of a small incident that happened recently. Before discussing it, I would like to point out a few things: 1. Though I hate to use terms such as intersex, transexual, genderqueer, etc I have difficultly relating to either gender separately. I personally see myself as both, or neither. I could get more into that later, but let me simply say that I do not appreciate being called a "female" or a "transman". If anything, I hate for my gender to be identified period.
2. I do not appear explicitly female. Although I do keep up my appearance, generally, and attempt to be a snazzy dresser. But on a lazy day, when I'd rather wear a hoodie and some jeans, I can easily pass as male.
3. I absolutely love pancakes.
So last weekend my parents and I had breakfast at a Denny's near our favorite thrift stores. If anybody out there is unfamiliar with Denny's, it's simply a diner that Captain America's granny opened up in the late 1950's who gives a fuck. They're overpriced, their bacon is floppy, and I always eat too much then I really should. But somehow or another we always keep going back.
After a tall glass of water and a stack of wheat pancakes I had to use the restroom. Mind you, I used the women's restroom. Upon leaving, some old biddy walks in at the same time. She gives me the rudest smile I've ever seen and snarkily asks, "Oh is this the women's restroom?" ">8 [ " Now, excuse me ya'll, but that ain't all too fucking polite now is it? I could try and convince myself she was asking an innocent question. But there are times when you know this is simply not the case. And it bothered me. I didn't appreciate her snide remark, and I told her so as I left the restroom to devour my pancake carcass. But I kept asking myself, "Why did it bother me?" I can be a pretty fucking confusing visual piece, and it isn't as if I don't expect reactions like that on some level. I've come to a few conclusions: I've simply gotten too comfortable. With all the splendidly gay friends and acquiantances I've made, with all the Master/Doctor porn I read and write, I have simply gotten soft and cushy. I've forgotten how very note gay [ and therefore less FUN ] the world is outside my own circle. Even though I expect to receive some negative attention, I also get the sense that homophobia/transphobia/clownphobia is decreasing. And it certainly is. But a wise man said, "If you're not first YOU'RE LAST".
Regardless of whether or not I can expect to come across some old prick, expecting it doesn't make it any less rude. If somebody tells me they're about to punch me in the face, I'm sure as hell still going to feel it when it comes.
But alas. This is done and over with now. And this wasn't the end of my world. I didn't baw about it. After a few hours I realized that most people just don't understand how sensitive gender is for some people. And also, nobody expects a paranoid little fuck like me to come jumping out of their toilet.
And even though it makes pissing in public difficult, I rather like keeping myself snugly in the middle.
I've been thinking about gender lately, because of a small incident that happened recently. Before discussing it, I would like to point out a few things: 1. Though I hate to use terms such as intersex, transexual, genderqueer, etc I have difficultly relating to either gender separately. I personally see myself as both, or neither. I could get more into that later, but let me simply say that I do not appreciate being called a "female" or a "transman". If anything, I hate for my gender to be identified period.
2. I do not appear explicitly female. Although I do keep up my appearance, generally, and attempt to be a snazzy dresser. But on a lazy day, when I'd rather wear a hoodie and some jeans, I can easily pass as male.
3. I absolutely love pancakes.
So last weekend my parents and I had breakfast at a Denny's near our favorite thrift stores. If anybody out there is unfamiliar with Denny's, it's simply a diner that Captain America's granny opened up in the late 1950's who gives a fuck. They're overpriced, their bacon is floppy, and I always eat too much then I really should. But somehow or another we always keep going back.
After a tall glass of water and a stack of wheat pancakes I had to use the restroom. Mind you, I used the women's restroom. Upon leaving, some old biddy walks in at the same time. She gives me the rudest smile I've ever seen and snarkily asks, "Oh is this the women's restroom?" ">8 [ " Now, excuse me ya'll, but that ain't all too fucking polite now is it? I could try and convince myself she was asking an innocent question. But there are times when you know this is simply not the case. And it bothered me. I didn't appreciate her snide remark, and I told her so as I left the restroom to devour my pancake carcass. But I kept asking myself, "Why did it bother me?" I can be a pretty fucking confusing visual piece, and it isn't as if I don't expect reactions like that on some level. I've come to a few conclusions: I've simply gotten too comfortable. With all the splendidly gay friends and acquiantances I've made, with all the Master/Doctor porn I read and write, I have simply gotten soft and cushy. I've forgotten how very note gay [ and therefore less FUN ] the world is outside my own circle. Even though I expect to receive some negative attention, I also get the sense that homophobia/transphobia/clownphobia is decreasing. And it certainly is. But a wise man said, "If you're not first YOU'RE LAST".
Regardless of whether or not I can expect to come across some old prick, expecting it doesn't make it any less rude. If somebody tells me they're about to punch me in the face, I'm sure as hell still going to feel it when it comes.
But alas. This is done and over with now. And this wasn't the end of my world. I didn't baw about it. After a few hours I realized that most people just don't understand how sensitive gender is for some people. And also, nobody expects a paranoid little fuck like me to come jumping out of their toilet.
And even though it makes pissing in public difficult, I rather like keeping myself snugly in the middle.