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I went for drinks with my old boss last night.  It was good to see her again.  One of the things she wanted to know is if I was still identifying as a woman, which I considered a fair question in light of some of our conversation.  I told her yes.  I don’t really see that changing, but I also hesitate at the term.  At the same time, this last year has already been so full of transitions and changes that I cannot even imagine adding investigating how I feel about gender.

I finally like what I see in the mirror, the whole package.  I like my clothes, I like my hair, I like how I look in/with them.  It’s so reassuring to look at myself and see a person I recognize.  That’s enough for now.  The questions may come later, and if they do, they will have to wait until things feel a bit more stable.

Now, for the continued hypothetical question of monogamy.  With as stressed as I get about merely setting up dates with multiple people during one week, I don’t think that I could realistically do non-monogamy (having already decided against polyamory).  I think I simply want a steady relationship.  And if it was going to be open in any way, I think it would have to be purely casual and obviously decided together.  But I’m not even convinced that I would want that, either.

I’m hoping this next chapter of life has good things for me.

It’s only Sunday, but I can tell you already that it’s been a big weekend for me.

I had my second session for my Hogwarts tattoo.  One more should do the trick.  I’ll try to post a picture later–it’s looking beautiful!

I started reading “Lost Boi” by Sassafras Lowrey.  I’m only a few chapters in, but it is amazing. Especially if you are a fan of the Peter Pan genre (I say it that way because while it is a book, a damn good one, there are multiple interpretations in movie/play/etc form), and are interested in queer interpretations of said genre.  I won’t go into all the ways that this gets me in the feels, but check it out for yourself.

From the group description for ‘Appreciating Bois, Butches, and Trans Men,’ on Fetlife:

“Traditionally, ‘transmasculine’ has referred to male traits in female-bodied people — or, more properly, people who were ‘assigned female at birth’ (AFAB). ‘Bois’, ‘Butches’, and ‘Trans men’ are types of transmasculine people; each term has its own set of cultural implications and definitions.”

I liked that description when I saw it because it really does encapsulate the basic idea that I’m trying to capture.  It is, of course, one person’s definition, but I think it is a good, albeit very bare bones, definition.

I have been listening to the song below on repeat.  It is beautiful, and it speaks to me in all the ways I cannot articulate.

Only a few more days until I leave for my best friend’s wedding.  You’d think I’d be getting more done in preparation, but I apparently believe the next two evenings will be sufficient. Ha.  All I need to do, really, is ironing, packing, cleaning.  Um, yeah.  My friends who are driving up with me will be getting here Tuesday evening.  Tomorrow evening I’m supposed to finish my homework assignment for the next week (or, at least, get a good start on it).

Well.  It’ll all get done.  In the meantime, I’m having a beer and watching lame-ass movies.

Speaking of not lame-as movies, I just watched 52 Tuesdays on Netflix.  If you haven’t seen it, watch it.  It was thought provoking, and I thought well done.

I’ve been coming across the term ‘boi’ more and more, and I’m beginning to think it may be a fit for me.  I’m still not sure I’ll adopt it, but I’m going to spend some time trying it on, tasting it, seeing how it feels.

There’s just too much going on to handle anything.  I’d like to give zero fucks for the next several months.  Unfortunately, that is not likely to be possible.

And so, moving on…

I need to get serious about working out.  I don’t like how I feel, but it’s hard to feel motivated at 5:30am.  I also need to get serious about job hunting, but it’s hard to feel motivated at 6:30pm.  My teacher left me an audio comment on my last assignment that was next to worthless in terms of helpfulness.  Also, I had to listen to it, which was basically the worst.

Yes, that was just a big ol’ paragraph of complaining.

I wrote a three page letter to Men’s Wearhouse telling them how disappointed I am in their store.  I wonder if I’ll get a response.

Here’s a bit of good news.  My rent increase is less than I expected. I can’t help but wonder if it’s a mistake, but I’m not going to point it out because I have it on an official document.

I’m considering taking a hiatus from dating, only because I am surrounded by femmes and don’t care to date any of them.  Where are the butch ladies?  I mean, c’mon.  Or androgynous.  But here’s something to think about.  I went out last weekend with a trans boi.  We talked about labels, and he asked mine.  I said lesbian.  But then I also noted that I may be open to dating trans guys–I’m not really sure (that’s a whole other discussion).  I’d still call myself a lesbian.  Would that do them a disservice?  Does it matter what I label myself in regard to whom I might date?

These are things that are on my mind.

The open door experiment has reached its natural end.  I’m not going to say that I’d never try to open a door again, in different circumstances, but I’m still not sold on the idea.

This weekend, I have two dates set up.  One is a friend date (providing all goes well) and the other is a real one.  I’m actually trying to set up a third with someone I met months ago “in the wild,” as I like to refer to in real life, not online.

I would love to be able to simply reference the event where I met said woman, but I have a bad habit of being incredibly vague on here, so while I found a blog that I could tell was about this event, it holds absolutely zero details.

Somewhere around the end of March, I met a different woman online, one who was in a relationship, so this was just a friend thing.  Anyway, she invited me to a house party full of queers, which, oddly, I went to.  I didn’t know anyone there, but actually had a super time.  Incidentally, there was this one woman there that just captured my attention.  I’ve never really done anything about it, other than adding her on facebook.  But recently, I figured I may as well give it a go.  I’m not sure it has any chance of working out–I’m not even sure that I’ll actually see her again.  But… might as well give it a shot?

And for the record, 2-3 dates this weekend isn’t that much. I haven’t been on a date in weeks, so if you spread it out, then it’s really hardly any at all.

I want to be with someone who is excited to be with me.

I want to be with someone who will take care of me, just as much as I take care of them.  I don’t know how to let someone do that, but I want to learn.*

I want to be with someone who will cook food for me when I have nothing in me to cook for myself.

I want to be with someone who thinks my ridiculousness is endearing.

I want to be with someone who is all about the sex, because I am all about the sex.

I want to be with someone who is willing to throw caution to the wind and let the cards fall where they may.  (This might loop back to being excited to be with me.)

I want to figure it out as we go, without fear or worry.  I want to live and love and laugh together.

I believe this is possible. I just don’t exactly know how to find it.

*Side story: remember that work party I referenced going to with B back in January, I think?  I never said much about that weekend, only that I learned not to mix alcohol.  But here’s what happened.  I went to B’s work party, met her co-workers and bosses, bowled, had a great time.  Unfortunately, while I did not drink much, I did make the mistake (rookie move!) of having liquor, then beer, then liquor.  I had no idea what was coming.  Thankfully, B realized I was going to be sick and we made a quick getaway back to her place.  Let me remind you that at that time, I had only know her a few weeks, so this is extra embarrassing for me.  We barely made it to her place (in a taxi she paid for), well, we didn’t make it, since we stopped about a block early so I could begin my night of puking.  I spent that night crawling between her bed (she slept on an air mattress) and the toilet.  Then, the next day, I was still so sick that I sat still at her place until around 10 or 11am when I could actually walk upright and drive home.  She spent the night covering me with blankets, making sure I had water, even made me ginger tea and an egg (that I couldn’t eat) the next morning.  I think this event is how our friendship was sealed.  Anyway, the point of that whole story is that I cannot remember a time when I was so dependent on someone else.  It was hard and kind of horrible, to be honest.

This weekend B and I went camping.  It was glorious!  We spent two nights by the river, which was just fantastic.  It was pretty hot, but yesterday we had the bright idea (okay, B had the bright idea, and I followed suit) to dip our (non-cotton) shirts in the river, then put them back on.  It was way too cold to actually submerge ourselves.  I’m going to tell you: despite the temps being in the eighties, with wet shirts, we didn’t feel the heat at all.

B brought a hammock, and we spent a fair amount of time reading–she in the hammock, me in my camp chair.  Or we talked. Or moseyed around the site.  Or mused about the hetero couples/groups surrounding us and whether or not we’d act that ridiculously if we were on a trip with a bunch of hot lesbians we were trying to impress…

We also did a fair amount of day drinking and a bit of pot smoking.  (Note 1: Pot is legal where I live. Note 2: all wood cutting and kindling making was done before intoxication. We’re not fools.)

I also got 9-10 bug bites because I insisted on wearing shorts and sleeveless tops.  It was worth it, but I might think about investing in some lightweight hiking/camping clothes that are long sleeved/pants.  I think B only got a couple bites in comparison and she remained covered most of the time.

We also learned that we need to check how dry the wood is before we buy it. One bundle was damp and wouldn’t burn, so we had to set it up by the fire to dry for the next day.  It took us quite a while to get a fire going that first night… lame damp wood.  Plus we only brought queer newspapers to burn (since that’s all we ever pick up in the city), which we hadn’t finished reading (oops), so we read the good articles right before burning them.

Today we got back home in time to still get chores done.  I’m not sure how much B got done at her place, but I know I did fairly well here.  The cats seem happy to have me back, too.

I had a really relaxing weekend.  I’m super glad to have a camping friend in my life. It had been too long.

I only have a few minutes before I need to get my ass out the door, but…

I got a suit last weekend!  I could go into the whole experience, but just imagine suits being a shit-ton more expensive than you realized and also none of them fitting right.  Especially the pants.  Oh, and add in a wool allergy so that your choices are limited to almost nothing.

I ended up at Men’s Warehouse.  I didn’t start there, but I did end there.  They have this cool custom suit line where you can pick your fit, your fabric, etc.  And tailoring is, of course, included.  It was very reasonably priced, too.  So I picked a navy cotton suit.  On the suit label inside the front panel (idk if you all know what I’m talking about because I barely do), they put custom words.  I guess a lot of folk put their names (nope, not me).  But I am having them put, “Butch Please.”  hahahahahaha   I think I’m  hilarious.  Many thanks to Autostraddle’s Kate for her column that first introduced this wondrous phrase to me.

I won’t talk about the sales guy right now.  He started strong but ended weak, and I did nothing about it for a few reasons, which were probably stupid.  The friend I had with me was super angry at him, although it may have been hanger, as we took much longer than expected and lunch was just a distant hope at that point…  But, still, I should talk about it later because I’m surprised at my lack of demanding respect.

Off to go do things!

Oh, and one last note: my next tattoo is scheduled for July 17th!  Eeekk!!

 

It’s a three day weekend, thankfully. One of my favorite people to follow on twitter posted this:

So I’m right on schedule for Saturday.  I am hoping, however, to abstain from Monday’s feeling until at least that evening. :)

I’m going shopping tomorrow for an outfit for my best friend’s wedding.  I’m also in need of a jacket–like a sport coat / suit jacket type– because I need to go to court for my job for court supervised cases (just a normal part of the job), and I can’t just show up in a button up and a tie.  At least, the men in the office all go in a jacket, as well as a tie.  So I feel like I ought to follow suit.

But I’m nervous about trying to find a jacket that looks right and fits right.  I’m guessing I’ll likely have to get it tailored, so I’m nervous about finding a tailor who will be willing to do it right (i.e. not try to put feminine curves in).  Uggh.

I’m hoping my shopping karma is strong tomorrow.