Why did the bulk of the New Orleans refugees have to end up in one of the worst, nastiest states in the union? Already transgender survivors are getting arrested for simply taking a shower. Yeah, she was eventually released – after 5 days in a men's jail. While the arrests are uncommon, transgender survivors are being forced to use the wrong bathrooms all across the piece of shit state. I'm sure it's happening in other states as well, there are enough assholes to go around, but Texas is currently the biggest problem. And I'm sure there won't be any discrimination in finding housing or jobs for the transsexual survivors either, right? Texans are feeling pretty good about themselves right now for being caring loving people. Well, fuck you Texas. You're not. Fuck you.

Is there any place to send money to help out queer survivors?

stolen from kyrene

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian. I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman. I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights. We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time. I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room. I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me. I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again. I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear. We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men. I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me. I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman. I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman. I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male. I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men. I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that. I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual. I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me. I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind. I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love. Repost this if you want to.

Tuesday morning, riga_mortia and I set off for Plattsburgh, New York. We got out of the house very early, and made good time to South Station. The air seemed hopeful and the prospect of leaving the city for a few days was very exciting.

Things started to go wrong when we got to the ticket counter at Greyhound. They ended up charging us a rate several hundred dollars over what they had quoted us over the phone. Not knowing of any other choice, we forked over the cash.

Quickly, I realized I had forgotten my ID. Realizing that this meant that the trip would be much more problematic, we went decided to take the next bus out, and take a taxi back to riga_mortia’s house and pick up my ID.

My ID wasn’t at her house, and we were running out of time, so we called another taxi to run back to my house, as I was sure I must have left it there.

On the way out to the taxi, riga_mortia had a nasty fall onto an evil metal thing laying on the sidewalk. She ended up with a nasty looking wound on her knee. I got our luggage together and she limped into the taxi.

My ID wasn’t at my house either. To add to the fun, we quickly discovered that riga_mortia had left her purse in the taxi.

grrldan arrived home and offered his help. And what a wonderful help he was. He patched up riga_mortia’s knee very skillfully and made us both much-needed cosmopolitans.

I decided to call the liquor store I had gone to the night before, in a last hope that it was where I lost my ID. I got on my computer to get the number for the store and found that my monitor had completely died.

grrldan looked up the number for me on his computer. However, when I called, I was told that my ID wasn’t there either.

Giving up on my ID, we called the taxi company and asked about riga_mortia’s purse. They had it and grrldan said he would give us a ride to retrieve it as well as anywhere else we needed to go. I can’t thank him enough for all the help he was to us.

riga_mortia and I figured out that it would actually be cheaper to rent a car and drive it to Plattsburgh than to take the bus, even with the 15% charge for returning the tickets. So, we called up several rental places to get a car. However, no one would rent us a car, because I don’t have a credit card or my own auto insurance (either one would have worked) and riga_mortia is under 25 and only has a permit.

We worked out a plan with katia25 (riga_mortia’s stepmother). We would wire her the money to rent a car. She would rent it, drive from Plattsburgh to Boston then drive us back up to Plattsburgh.

First thing was first, the tickets and the taxis had wiped out our cash reserves. We needed to go to my bank. As I had lost my bankcard the week before, and now didn’t have my ID, I wrote grrldan a check for the money I needed and he ran into the bank to cash it. A few minutes later, he came out and told me the people in the bank wanted to talk to me inside.

They told me that my check was suspect, because it was written out of sequence (another symptom of my absentmindedness). However, they had my signature card on file at the bank, and I was able to get the money out myself.

Next stop was Stop and Shop to wire the funds for the car. Again, grrldan came to the rescue. As the only one with an ID at that point, he had to be the one to actually send the money on its way.

After Stop and Shop, we went to the Yellow Cab office. On the journey there, we encountered a traffic jam. After waiting about 15 minutes in the baking sun, traffic began to move again, and we got riga_mortia’s purse.

Before he had to be on his way for his own scheduled activities for the day, grrldan dropped us off at the DMV so that I could get a temporary license for the trip.

When katia25 arrived, we grabbed our stuff and piled into the car. Our troubles were over, or so we thought.

We quickly got lost in Vermont. We spent a long time on the empty highways in the land of moose and bumps. After wandering and wandering, we found a hotel and asked for directions. We apparently missed our turn by an hour and a half. Instead of having to back track, we were directed on an alternative route. All in all, the 3 hour trip ended up taking more than 6, and by the time it was over both riga_mortia and I were both feeling slightly ill.

We checked into our hotel, only to find that it was a complete pit. It was more of a no-tell motel than anything else. The one redeeming quality, is that it had a rustic Bonnie and Clyde feel to it. I felt that the feds would be breaking in the door any minute.

In the morning, we carted ourselves over to the Super 8. A little more pricey, but a lot less shitty. At this point we both realized that the slightly ill we felt the night before was not going to simply go away. The slightly ill had definite plans of being more than slightly.

In the very late afternoon, we finally got over to see riga_mortia’s family. They were all very accepting and nice. I got along with all of them very well. We all got quite floopy, and Chantea (riga_mortia’s sister) got quite a bit too floopy.

katia25 dropped us off near the beach, where riga_mortia and I splashed together on the beautiful shores of Lake Champlain. It was probably the most beautiful part of the entire trip, however being wet in the chilly night air probably didn’t help us with our developing colds.

By the time we woke up the next morning, both riga_mortia and I were really feeling sick. Not only that, having spent so much time in close quarters with all the stress of the trip, we starting to get on each other’s nerves. We never yelled, but we definitely weren’t getting along very well.

Pat (riga_mortia’s dad) and katia25 took us to Ponderosa in the afternoon. I was worried there wouldn’t be anything to eat, but to my surprise the buffet had a selection of vegetarian options.

The food did not sit well with riga_mortia, who was rapidly getting more ill than me. She ended up getting sick all over the bathroom of Ponderosa. Afterwards, we went back to the hotel so she could get some rest.

In the evening, we went back to katia25’s and Pat’s house and watched The Way of the Gun with Ryan Phillippe. I enjoyed the movie, and definitely recommend it.

Back at the hotel we decided that with both of us feeling ill and the trip generally not going very well, that we should head back home Friday as originally planned, instead of Saturday morning as we had been considering.

On the ferry across Lake Champlain on the way home, I decided to take a picture of the mountains above the water. Of course, I dropped the camera. It bounced off the deck, and I watched in slow motion as it splashed into the water below. At least it wasn’t the one I had taken the pictures on earlier in the trip.

Back in Boston, I hoped that we could finally relax, but new drama has come forward. Things just don’t seem to settle down nowadays. Like the Energizer bunny, it just keeps going and going and going.