Yesterday morning, purpleglitter and I got up early to pick up the two cutest English budgies. The rusty cage they were in sucked and there were two cats there were being allowed batting at their tail feathers, but the had each other and to their former owner's credit, they had insisted they not be separated in their craigslist ad. They are so obviously bonded, they are snuggled up against each other more often then they are not. We are calling them Statler and Waldorf.


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Statler and Waldorf home safe and sound, I had to head out to my endocrinology appointment, which went well. It is obvious that my endocrinologist is still not entirely comfortable with me being off psychiatric medication and not in therapy, even though it has been years and I'm doing fine. At least at this point she no longer suggests I go back to either. She did, however, suggest I see my primary care provider. I won't, I don't trust my pcp anymore. However, my endo let slip the name of a primary care doctor popular who is popular with her trannie patients that I'm going to check out switching to.

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After they got done taking my blood, I went over to see Ila. She has been teaching me Telugu script, though the words we've been going over have been Sanskrit. This week I need to practice writing conjunct consonants. I think the script is beautiful and am grateful for the opportunity to attempt to learn it. Ila seems to enjoy showing it to me — which is good, otherwise she probably wouldn't.

Before I had a livejournal, I wrote something on neitherday.com about school shootings. It was taken down in one of the site redesigns, but seeing as it is relevant to recent events, I thought I'd repost it here:

March 7th, 2001 School shootings, once something totally unheard of, have quickly become a part of the national landscape. Most of these shootings are performed by students who are ostracized and harassed by fellow students. While I don't believe in violence, as someone who was picked on quite a bit in school, I can see the motivations at work inside these kids. The main difference between now and when I was in high school is that when I was in high school kids who were ostracized had no real way of striking back. Now things are different. Teenagers have now heard of a method (while not one that I endorse) of striking back. Bullying, ostracization, teasing, vandalism, and even violent acts are committed against students who happen to be different in some way. Now, as when I was in school, there are rules against most of the offenses committed against non-conforming students. But we all know that in most situations school officials turn a blind eye to acts of harassment. The problem of school shootings will only get worse until these problems are addressed. Unfortunately, most plans that have been adopted only increase ostracization of students that don't fit into the norm. This is equivalent to pouring gasoline on a fire to put it out. For the safety and well-being of all students we need to promote acceptance and tolerance in our schools.

Yesterday, while I was out with merryperseis, while walking past a group of teenagers, one of them yelled "Nice hat!". I walked quickly on as a couple more of them repeated the yell. I ducked into a local shop, and three of them followed me in. One of the girls came up to me and asked "Where did you get that hat?". I responded that I didn't know, that it was a gift. She said "Okay." and left. As she went out the door, I heard someone from the group yell to her "Did you find out where they got the hat?". It was then that I realized they really liked the hat and simply wanted to know where I had gotten it.

I'm still in the mode where I assume shouts from random groups people mean they are trying to harass me, as that used to be the case more often than not. Groups of teenagers especially freak me out, as they were often (though not always) perpetrators of the harassment.

I'm not used to passing on the street, and I feel strange not being a regular target. It's almost eerie when I think about it. I like it, I just wonder how long it will take to get used to it and put my guard down a little.

Walking back from Mass Convenience, I was accosted by a man who looked around 40 and seemed to be slightly inebriated yelling at me "You don't need a cane.". It is exactly attitudes like that that made me resist using a cane for so long. I realize that a good deal of the time I can walk perfectly fine without a cane. But during my episodes, which have been very frequent of late, it is very hard to walk and often very hard to simply stand. I have managed to stay off the ground a good many times because of my cane, and when I do end up on the ground the can helps me get back up. There are also many times where I am able to remain mobile with the help of the cane when without it I would be stuck. With balance and coordination so often issues, the cane has given me much more confidence when i go out, and I've been able to do a lot more since I've been using it. I DON"T WANT TO HAVE TO CARRY A CANE, BUT RIGHT NOW I DON"T SEE ANY OTHER CHOICE.

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I did manage to do some work on my new cane today, as the cracks in my old one are getting larger and it is only a matter of time before it snaps. I would like to stop using it BEFORE that happens, as I rather like it and would like to keep it around in one piece even if I no longer use it. I sawed off the excess length pealed off the easily removable bark. Most of the bark was not easily taken off, and I began sanding. I don't have enough sand paper to finish the job, and even after I pick some up the sanding will probably be several days work as I can only sustain a small periods of vigorous activity these days. There is some rot underneath the bark and I found a strange bug that I did not recognise under the bark that I was able to pry off, but that those things should not be surprising as the branch was lying on the soft earth by Spy Pond for who knows how long. But, it is sturdy and despite its flaws I still believe it will make a fine cane.

Why is hate speech a problem in online forums? Why do I get upset about it? Why do I not tolerate it in any of the online forums I run? Because hate speech and attacks on specific individuals and on specific groups are often and regularly used to systematically exclude certain populations from the discussion. I guess people could just "suck it up", some people do, for a while at least. Most people of the selected groups however realize that participating in the forum is not worth the mental abuse and stress of the constant attacks. Even in the cases where a user stays for a while, the constant attacks, often lauded by others in the forum, eliminates any respect and impact the target's words may receive. They are effectively silenced. While many of these forums claim to be open, by allowing this sort of activity they are in fact not. They are closed forums that allow in prey occasionally.

I have noticed that only traditionally oppressed groups are expected to "suck it up" in these supposedly "open forums". Try saying anything negative about, for example, straight people, and you will instantly get a barrage of "reverse discrimination", "just as bad as any other form of prejudice" or "not all straight people are like that" from the very same people who are constantly telling you to "suck it up". They can dish it out, but they can't take it.

The people who frequent these "open forums" complain wildly about any forum that doesn't allow them to air their hate. They claim their free speech is violated because they cannot evict by harassment any groups they do not like. The very same people who state "if you don't like it, start your own forum" are the ones who will complain that your forum doesn't also exclude you. They will go to great lengths to try to harass the forums, making many have to moderate posts and screen people who want to join the forum. These actions alone result in a diminishing of both membership and post volume, further dampening the voices of those who need the forum.

On the rare occasion I venture into some of the notorious "open forums" here on LiveJournal, I use one of two "fake" accounts. In these "open forums" I cannot give any details about my life experience. Nor do I feel comfortable even being there, but at least I can say something when I feel it is very necessary. Essentially, as long as I am completely closeted about being bisexual, a female feminst, transgendered, mentally ill, and a rape victim I can participate in the community without being constantly bullied until I leave, because it's "open to everyone".

I just realized something by looking at my last two posts. There is a time I feel safe outside: during a downpour. Rain somehow takes my fear away temporarily. Maybe it's because I've always been safe in the rain. I grew up in a situation where rain meant prosperity and happiness. My parents got along and generally happiness ensued. Drought brought fighting parents and less money. I still have such strong positive associations with the rain, that it overpowers my otherwise timid nature. I will jump and play in the rain. It's odd.

Something else that stands out is that years ago, when I was in much more danger outside, I didn't have the same level of fear. It's almost as if I'm a horse who's finally been broken and now knows her place. I don't want to know my place. I don't want to be a broken horse. I need to break out of this trap, before I spend the rest of my life in it. I know that many non-queer and non-trans folk end up with the same sort of agoraphobic response to the world, and for similar reasons. But, with all the talk about not living in fear of terrorist, about how doing so lets them win, I can't help but think that those that broke me were essentially terrorists. Just of a different breed. There is still a systematic effort to instill fear into the population, not by foreigners, but by the good-olde-boy network right here. By allowing my actions to be dictated by that fear, I am letting them win. That is something I need to change.

Over the past year or so I've had to come to terms with a new reality: I regularly pass on the street. I no longer stand out or am harassed by random street-corner hoodlums. Passing privilege is not something I'm used to. I'm still tensed up when I'm out, expecting someone to start in on me. But, it just doesn't happen anymore. I am very hesitant talk to people or respond if they talk to me. I try to scoot by with my head slumped over watching the ground. I still feel meek and scared, even though that is not an appropriate reaction to being out in familiar relatively safe areas during the day. Even when there is no one nearby that I could reasonable view as a potential threat.

I'm having a tough time processing this. I know the streets still aren't completely safe, but they have gotten a whole lot safer for me than they used to be. I feel a mix of happiness, disbelief and guilt. Yes, guilt. I worry that by not being as visible, I'm making it harder for others. I think of all those who still don't have passing privilege, who still are constant targets of random aggression. I didn't expect this to happen. I had assumed I would never "pass". And even with this newfound passing ability, I never plan on going "stealth". I'm always going to be out both online and off. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of being transgender in any way, but in public it is nice not to be picked out.

I haven't been wearing make-up lately. I feel happy about that most of the time, but today I got he'd by the registration clerk at the center street clinic. I corrected him, and he made a feeble attempt at calling me she, but soon after said that he'd "send him up". I know that I pass better with make-up, but I don't want to be ashamed of how I look without it. I don't want to be ashamed of being a tranny. Wearing make-up just to pass in a way is being ashamed. Passing isn't everything, but it sure feels good. I don't want to be picked out, at the same time I don't want to hide behind face-paint. At this point I think I'm going to continue to use make-up sparingly, only for special events. It's tempting to go back to wearing it all the time, but the cost alone should rule that out. I'm saving so much money by not wearing the tons of make-up I once did. I think I'll stick with not wearing it, but if I get he'd too much I may reconsider. I don't want to, but passing is more than a vanity issue, it's also a safety issue. I'm a lot less likely to be harassed on the street if I pass. I haven't been harassed in a long time *knocks on wood*, but it is still a concern of mine. If I start getting harassed again, I'll probably go back to wearing make-up and be very pissed off at the world for making me do it.

There is no lower form of life than a transwoman who, after spending tens of thousands of dollars on surgery to pass, yells "fag" at another transwoman to impress her newfound straight "friends".

purpleglitter cleaned my playroom today. She's so sweet. I'm really the one who is supposed to clean it. I've been procrastinating the cleaning for quite some time. I often see the playroom as a reflection of my mind. And lately playroom has been a mess, and so has my mind. I don't know if it now being clean will help me mentally. It can't hurt.

purpleglitter and I went to the video store a half-hour ago and picked up A.I., which we will soon watch. On the way back, a police officer drove by. As his car approached on the opposite side of the road, he slowed down and looked at us. He made a U-turn, and stopped beside up for a few seconds, turned around again, and left. I guess we looked sufficiently suspicious to attract his attention. I was a bit worried that we were about to be harassed, but luckily that was not the case.

I can't deal with another confrontation with Bebe, so my new plan is to be overly-concerned.

Everytime I see her wobbly I've been asking, "are you feeling well? You don't look well. Are you sure your feeling well? Okay, you're sure?".

If I hear her fall down (which she does a lot), I ask, "Are you okay? That didn't sound good. Do you need some help? Are you sure you're okay? Are you really sure, that sounded horrendous."

Everytime she passes out somewhere other than her room or throws up I ask, "Do we need to take you to the hospital again? Are you sure? You don't seem to be okay, are you sure we shouldn't call someone? Are you really sure?"

Every time I'm simply sitting in the kitchen with her, I go on, "Have you called rehab yet today? You know this is going to kill you. You're ripping apart your innards. You're going to die a painful death from internal organ failure if you keep this up much longer, or you might fall over and hurt yourself badly. You know you should really stop."

These aren't things I just mention in passing or occasionally. I'm determined to say something along these lines everytime I see her. No respite! Either I'll drive her into rehab or I'll drive her away. Either is fine with me.

Was going to switch my website over to GearHost, until I found out that they only had Windows servers. I'm shocked that WantSomeGetSome recommended them. Going to switch to slightly more expensive Ci Host instead, because they have Apache servers.

Shawn, a former roommate, came over. I was glad to see him. He's in town from LA until the 5^th of January, so I'll get to see him at least a couple more times before he goes back.

I went to a party at cobweb's house. I'm glad to see she's doing better. I hope things continue to improve.

I met someone I thought was very interesting at the party. She works in an abortion clinic and likes to talk about her experiences there. I find it all very fascinating. I'm very pro-choice and admire the courage of someone who is willing to work in such a high-risk job helping ensure proper healthcare for women. I gave her my number, but failed to ask for hers. I hope she calls, as I'd really like to get together and talk with her again sometime.

I left the party at about a quarter till 2. A 10 minute walk to the bus. I hate walking alone in the city so late. It's always really creepy. I've gotten harassed and had to run and/or hide in the past. Mostly when I was homeless and out on the streets all night. Never been caught, but I'm still scared on the streets at night.

Waiting for the bus, there was a convenient shadowy spot tucked away between a tree and a brick wall. I could still see the bus coming, but no one could see me. I'm really afraid of getting pulled into a car passing by, so that I was unnoticeable makes me feel a lot safer. The bus took about 20 minutes to show up, which made me very happy I had found my hiding spot.

It took Lake over 2 hours to get through the interview and tests. She did fabulously.

We didn't do fabulously waiting. We had a couple loud arguments in Harvard Square. Scratched arms up with my fingernails, though not badly. People stared, but that's nothing new.

We also got hit on by some creepy guy who wanted our number. I'm a creepy guy magnet.

Bought some cigarettes. Don't really smoke, but felt like I really needed some.Went for some cloves. They turned out to be disappointingly tobacco free.

Just to prove to the other selves that the bingeing and purging was purely self-harm, I ate a meal after purging. Not a big meal, but more than a snack. Most people would say, "Ewwwww! How can you eat after purging?". Vomiting just doesn't gross me out, if it did I'd make a very poor bulimic.

It felt somewhat freeing to purge. I felt I was purging out a lot of my feelings with the food. Scary, because that could become an addictive reason.

I was in a bad place for three reasons:

1) I forgot to wear my 50's glasses when going out to see Petra. Shirley was wicked neurotic. She went into Osco Drugs and bought a new $12 pair of sunglasses. We only had about $40 in the bank! It was night! We couldn't wear them to the Diesel anyway!

2) I saw an old lady sitting alone on a park bench having a conversation with herself. People were just staring at her as they walked by. I though, "That's going to be me in 40 years."

3) We got nasty comments from two different groups of asshole strangers on the way home.