xxx files

edited 29.01.2007

I went back to work yesterday feeling like an idiot for doing so. I should have stuck to my principles and not answered the phone last Friday. I really need to keep my mouth shut and not talk about how their guilt trips make me feel. The project managers immediately got on my case and tried to suppress my ill feelings toward them and the company. It didn’t work. I need a new job, and that fact was never more so blatantly obvious to me as it became today. After spending almost six weeks away from the depressing chaos and constant stress I feel I can look at it objectively and it all seems so pointless. My heart isn’t in it anymore. It’s time to move on, but right now is not the best time to make a break. Or, maybe it is…

I had a great time in A’dam. I originally planned on staying for four nights, but I extended my stay by two nights. It proved worth it. Here’s the story: (it’s a long one)

I boarded the ICE train in Ffm bound for A’dam at 1:30 in the afternoon. There was a storm coming in from the North Sea coast that threatened to disrupt rail service. The train went as far as Arnheim and then dumped everyone out with no info on what comes next. It was blowin’ a gale with rain mixed in just for fun. I met another trans person from Berlin and we kept each other company. Her name was quite unique, she’s French, but I’ll call her S. She is a punk psychobilly rocker lady boy. The lady boy I got from her knuckle tats. She is totally fucking hardcore, so we had a good time chatting and drinking.

We eventually boarded a train that was going as far as Utrecht, which we arrived at by 8pm. The station was full with stranded people and a very annoying announcement both in Dutch and English was repeated every five minutes. The thing that really got me was that in the Dutch message they mentioned there was free coffee at the kiosks, but I guess not for the English speakers. We found a place to sit and just sat there bullshitting and drinking Heinekens. She would step into the ladies room every once in while to do a line of speed. She had lots of old school tats all over her body. Eventually her friend from A’dam came to pick us up and she dropped me at my hotel at 1am. It was so nice to be liberated from that awful train station.

Friday morning I rented a shitty bike at Mike’s Bike Tours which was conveniently located on the same street as my hotel. The bike was really awkward to ride and the wind from the storm made walking seem like a better idea. I went to Xantippe bookstore to look for feminist lit. They had a very small selection of uninteresting books. I spoke with the woman working and she told me that they don’t have a very good selection of feminist lit “because nobody buys it”. She was nice enough and somehow must have sensed that I am a lez because she pitched me the L word second season dvd set. If you buy the set they have a promotional L bag as a free gift. I went for it because I had heard so much about the show whilst in the states, and I had forgotten to bring my city bag. I also bought books on Joan of Arc and feminism and geography. She mentioned that I could get some of the first and second wave titles I was looking for at a women’s second hand bookstore, but they had just moved to Utrecht. I asked for the name anyway, vrouwenindruk was it.

I went to de dampkring for a smoke and a latte. I asked one of the servers about something I had there before, and before I knew it she was speaking to me in Dutch. She remembered I spoke to her in English eventually and then apologized saying she thought I was Dutch because I looked Dutch. How’s that for blending? I think I look European, by the way. Then I was in the bathroom and one of the bartenders was in there. I said hello and then she said she hadn’t seen me for a year and asked where I’ve been. I told here that I hadn’t been there for over a year and maybe she was thinking of someone else. (the last time I was still in male mode) After I left I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a subtle come on or her just being friendly? Maybe it was just the coffee.

As I was walking away from de dampkring I noticed the book sale was going on in the Spui. I perused the different vendors and saw a book on Freud, a couple of feminist books I wanted but in Dutch, an art nouveau graphics book, and one on Gustav Klimt. I wanted to buy the Klimt book because it had a lot of his pencil doodling and sketches. I didn’t buy anything as I was worried about my luggage. I thought the klimt sketches would be good inspiration for a jugendstil tattoo. Somehow I have a feeling I will be going back there sooner than I know it.

I ate dinner later in the evening at Rakang Thai. I had a roast duck dish that was just rightly sweet-hot curried, but some of the meat was rather tough. The bamboo chairs had interesting cotton strips with elastic banding to hold it all together as seat and back. They were really comfortable for a bamboo chair and creative as well. After dinner I went to get some money at the dam and then to find where a squat called chequepoint was. That was where the Buttkraaker cabaret was supposed to be. I knew it was the building by the symbols on the windows.

I went to Saarein II later for a couple of wit beers and ended up staying there all evening. I met an interesting woman from Dutch Guyana with nice braids, we’ll call her T. After a while of talking I asked her if she could write her name out for me in my journal to help me to remember it. Many of the Dutch given names of the people that I met on this trip were totally foreign to me. She ended up giving me her number too, for the next time I am in town I should call her to go for a drink. She introduced me to many different people as they came and went. The bartender was really cool, chit chatting with me when she had a second to spare. The place was jam packed at about midnight. I left at about 1am and T said she would be at YouII on Saturday if I wanted to go dancing. I had a really good time at Saarein II. I do have this nagging feeling that I should have gone to the Buttkraaker just to see what it was like. Which door was that g?

Saturday I got up fairly late and missed breakfast by a couple of hours. I was hoping to get up early enough at least to make it to the Waterlooplein flea market because I was on the hunt for some new silver adornments. I missed it completely. By then I had realized that I had left my nice green hat in our savior’s car on Thursday night. Bummer. I decided my head was way too cold without a hat, so I decided to go looking for a new one. I found nothing like I had, only crap from the Turks and H&M. I got something to get me through because there is always at least a light wind there. I went to café April for a coffee to see what that was like; it was kind of a drag. I left there to go back to the hotel to get ready for the evening and walked down Vijzelstraat (sp) to try to find where Sappho was. I got some shitty pizza for a quick dinner and ate it while watching the first episode of the L word. It seemed more like soft porn than a cable TV show.

After getting cleaned up I headed over to Rembrandtplein where Saturday night was in full swing. I popped into Vive La Vie for a couple of drinks before going over to YouII which is conveniently right around the corner, literally. I sat along the window for a while trying to get a feel for the place. One of the bartenders was about seven feet tall, at least it seemed like it. I went to the bar to get a beer and a couple sat in my spot at the window. There was nowhere else to sit, so all I could do was stand there and felt stupid because I was the only one that was without someone to talk to in the whole place. At least it felt that way. I finished my beer and decided to get my things to go. I walked over to the window to get my stuff together and a woman slid over to make room for me to sit. I was a bit miffed at the situation already so I nodded in thanks to her but still got ready to leave and I did. Afterwards I wondered if I should have sat down instead of leaving. I probably would have ended up talking to her at least, oh well I’m such a dork even as a girl.

I went to YouII around the corner for a while. The music wasn’t too bad, as bad as bad can get, it’s all relative I guess. There was a really younger crowd there, but it seemed better than the harsh reviews I had read about it. I hung out until 1am but didn’t end up meeting up with T at all. I stopped by de dampkring on the way back to the hotel for another wit beer.

I was relatively lazy on Sunday morning and didn’t end up getting out of the hotel until 2pm. I went to the Begijnhof to sit and read for a while until I got cold and left. I just wiki’d Begijnhof and found it dates back to the late 1300’s. The ground level inside is a meter below the rest of the city. I went over to Sappho to get something to eat and warm to drink. I finished reading The Female Eunuch there. I know what I will do, do you? Sappho seemed like a chill place to hang, but I was the only person there other than the bartender. She was playing some nice old Billie Holiday for me while I ate my ham and cheddar toasties, dipping them in catsup. I was skeptical about the ketchup, but it was delicious.

I left Sappho and walked over to Saarein II for the noodles café. Apparently they were celebrating their 5th anniversary. I got there just as one of the organizers started to give a speech, unfortunately for me she/he gave it in Dutch. I sat down near an Asian man, who turned out to be a transman, who turned out to be the organizer of the transgender filmfest in Amsterdam. He asked about the transgender community around Ffm, but unfortunately I didn’t have much to say about it. Frankfurt is kinda lame in respect to the nightlife, but what do you expect from a banker’s city? I will probably go to the filmfest this year. After a little bit a tall and attractive woman sat next to me, and we started chatting. She is a photographer and cinematographer and very interesting. The noodles party was breaking up to get ready for bingo. I bought a card myself. Me and, J we’ll call her, went upstairs to the loft level so we could better hear the bingo numbers being called. J and I had fun with the bingo, chatting and laughing at the number lady. We didn’t win anything, bummer.

J mentioned that she was working on different photo projects among other things. She also told me that she goes to Lelebelle’s once in a while to hang out. She asked if I wanted to go there with her for a drink. I was curious about the place so I decided to go with. The cute bartender from Friday night was there, she waved and smiled at me as we left. We talked a bunch more on the way over to Lelebelle’s. J introduced me to a few people that were sitting at the bar. There was a short pudgy guy playing some sort of gambling game that became the first man there to overtly lust after me. J told me that she wanted to photograph me sometime, but she had to leave to go home and work on a project. We exchanged numbers and emails and she was off. About a minute after she left me a Middle Eastern guy started to come on to me. I refused his lustful advances, but they just kept on coming. He even asked me how much money it would take for me to sleep with him. That was it, I got up and left that place utterly disgusted. Being in a place like that made me feel dirty. It reminded me of Playland in Boston’s combat zone. It feels like I am in one of those cartoons where the characters are starving and one looks at me and I turn into a steak or a turkey. Meat. I am not a fuck puppet.

Ibrahim was standing in the doorway as I was walking away, calling to me to come back. I decided to go to see what was going on over at Vive La Vie on the way home. I went in for a beer but it was way too crowded so I finished my beer and left. The super tall bartender man was there again. I went to de dampkring for another wit beer before going back to the hotel. I didn’t realize that I had too many wit beers until I decided to walk home. Good thing the hotel wasn’t far away.

On Monday I got up fairly early to eat breakfast and check to see if I could stay a couple of days longer at the hotel. The hotel was no problem, but I would forfeit my train ticket if I didn’t use it that day. Oh well, I got a super deal of half price anyway. I took advantage of the hotel’s laptop to check email and do some research. I found the vrouwen in druk bookstore site and their new address in Utrecht. I decided that I would go there on Tuesday afternoon because I had nothing better to do. I went out to get a late lunch/early dinner at an Italian joint. I had a three course meal that was very tasty, but I was seated too close to the front door and it was cold. I felt like shit most of the day, feeling like I couldn’t get warm no matter what I did. I went back to the hotel and watched a marathon of the L word while lounging in bed. J sent me a text message asking if I wanted to do a photo shoot at her place on Tuesday night. I accepted and then went to sleep.

I got up much later than I intended and had to rush to get the things done I had planned on so I would be on time to meet J that evening. I went up to the central station to buy another ticket back to Ffm that cost me 74 euro. There weren’t any cabin seats available, so I got a normal window seat instead. I bought a day ticket to Utrecht and waited for the next train. I used the GPS on my PDA to lead me to the bookstore address. I went inside and asked the woman if she had a copy of the Dialectic of Sex by Firestone. She seemed a bit perturbed at first but then she loosened up after a few minutes. She was flustered for a moment because she had seen a copy of it earlier in the day but couldn’t remember where it was. Then she found it. I bought it and also another Germaine Greer book and A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Wollstonecraft. She recommended contacting her through the web next time because it was so much easier for all concerned. I told her that it was convenient for me to go there, so I did. I was happy to get the books that I was looking for. I am turning into such a Feminist.

I rode back to A’dam and then got on a tram to go to the hotel. I got out at the Spui to run by de dampkring to stock up for the long winter hibernation. I walked back to the hotel to drop my stuff and get changed for going to meet J. I ran up to the grocery to get a bottle of wine and then hopped a tram to A'veen. I was about a half an hour late, so much for good time management. We went to her apartment and started off with enjoying a glass of wine and we chatted for a bit. She showed me some of the photos from her projects. We decided to eat before taking some pics. She made tomato basil soup with ciabatta bread and a salad. It was all very tasty and warming, and our conversation was very nice. I felt like I could talk to her about anything and everything.

I am anxious to see how the pictures came out. We had another glass of wine together and then it was time to leave. She walked me to the tram and saw me off. I wanted to ask her if her interest in me was purely creative, or if there might have been something there romantically as well. I didn’t want to push my luck, so I enjoyed myself and if something were to happen I would let her make the first move. That situation was another example of me wondering if there were signs that I was missing, or if I was just hoping too much for something to happen. It all seems so complicated, so I prefer to take the situations for face value and enjoy the moments as they come without any preconceived notions. I had a very nice time with J that evening.

The train ride home was a total bummer. I had to take a regional train to Arnheim to pick up the ICE there. The train was mostly empty so I sat right behind the engineer, practically looking over his shoulder. That was neat to see the world going by at 300+ kmh. We made it as far as Cologne and then they announced that there was an accident with human injury along the high speed track between Cologne and Ffm, and it was closed. We would end up following the Rhein until Koblenz and inland to Fraport. The detour cost me about three extra hours to get home.

I had much fun in A’dam as usual, but it wasn’t the usual fun. I faced some of my insecurities this trip and found they were just that, insecurities. I met some wonderful and interesting people that I hope to meet again in the future. I have also learned more about myself and about different situations. I think that’s enough for now, I will probably discuss the events more, or maybe I will just keep it to myself and my moleskine. I might edit in some links at a later date.

of life, love, and feminism...

This always seems to happen on my vacations of the past few years. I become so lazy and sedentary. I do however seem to remember in my last days of work of 2006 that I was looking forward to just doing “nothing”. I have achieved that goal. I had plans to tailor an overcoat and make some more jeans, and possibly paint my putrid apartment. I have done lots of reading though, something that I haven’t had the ambition to do since reading the sagas of the Icelanders a few years ago. From now on I plan to always have a book to read with me when I know I will have some idle time. Either at bedtime or when I am on the train to Ffm for example. There are so many classics that I have always wanted to read, and of course feminism is my current interest.

I am almost through with reading “The Female Eunuch”. I have about forty pages to go which I will probably read on the train to Amsterdam tomorrow. Many of the ideas that Greer presented in the book I agree with, and agree need to change if man-and-womankind is to veer off the path to self destruction. Her book is not so much an indictment of men only, but rather an indictment of the societal norms that were constructed by patriarchy. She skillfully unravels the tightly wound paradigms of contemporary society. Most of the paradigms and their detriment are known, but she also lends a historical account of how many neutral paradigms were twisted by patriarchy to serve its purpose. What I take away from her commentary is that patriarchy has defeated itself by creating an absurd set of norms that in the end are not only of detriment to women, children, and society as a whole, but especially to men as well.

I agree with the women’s liberation movement and feminism because they sought to bring about necessary changes to societies that are doomed to self destruction without change. I have merely scratched the surface at this point in time, but I can definitely see how the different degrees of feminist ideology came to exist. I would characterize myself as feeling the radical side of moderate, sort of medium-well if you will. I choose this position because the radical element is an indication of mobility, or to actively pursue and foster change. The immobile extreme is to have no knowledge or at the very least awareness, but to do nothing with it. One flavor of the radical extreme is the separation of men and women, which in itself is also a means to self destruction. In my opinion, separatism is thinly veiled hate, and hate is never a good thing obviously.

Although I agree and identify with many of the thoughts presented as feminism, I hesitate to drape another label around my neck, as there are already too many of them there already. I would rather characterize my feelings as more humanistic in nature. This is an effort to bring everyone to the table, rather than further reinforce the absurdity of black and white gender norms of female and male. My transition from one to the other in and of itself from an outside perspective accomplishes just that. But to me personally having lived through part of it, I feel more and more that I will end up being neither. I have accepted the fact that I will become perhaps more female than male, but never fully achieving either. The best characterization would be a female flavored eunuch. I am becoming more comfortable with that reality every day of my life.

Parallel to my research in feminism, I have also been reading lots about transgenderism. Transgenderism transcends mere male and female norms and challenges what it means to be human by exposing and stripping away the absurdity of the dichotomy of the two gender system. When I contemplate the historical accounts of feminist literature, it would seem that it all started to go wrong somewhere just before the renaissance. Organized religion, Catholicism in particular, helped shape the evolution of gender and gender roles in society as we know them today. Transgenderism is slowly succeeding to erode that warped evolution and bring about change through fostering awareness that there are humans that exist between the two polarized identities. I am excited to be living in such a time where I am an active participant in helping to change society for the better. By simply functioning in society as a transgender person, I am challenging those who meet my acquaintance to consider their own feelings about gender, sex, and sexuality. I think that I would like to become involved with activism, or at the very least participate in discussions with others with similar and differing opinions.

I have done some research to try to find any discussion groups in my immediate area. I haven’t found any yet, but I will keep looking. Or, perhaps start one somewhere, somehow. Occasionally I have gone to a local women’s center with some friends. If I am to be honest, it would be more accurate to call it a Lesbian center. I had apprehensions about going to such a place because I was afraid I would be met with some sort of feministic confrontation. I was met with no confrontation, but I get a strong feeling of contempt from some of the women there. As I delve deeper into the texts, I often wonder just how many women have actually read what I am reading. Feminism and the women’s liberation movement have gained a bad reputation over the past thirty years, as far as I can tell due to ignorance and extremism backlash.

The contempt that I can feel coming from the looks on people’s faces is discouraging. As I enrich myself and become better versed in feminism, I wish somehow that I could turn the immobilizing contempt into a lively discussion. I don’t expect to convert everyone that I meet to buy into my transgenderist or my feministic interpretations, but to at least lend my perspective and also listen and try to understand their perspective. I guess my underlying motive is to legitimize myself in the eyes of others. I can only hope to accomplish this once I have done it for myself, and I am working on it. I also realize that a bar isn’t exactly the best place to have such discussions, but throughout history/herstory that is exactly where some important discussions took place. One example could be the discussions that took place in colonial Boston leading up to the revolutionary war in America.

I won’t try to deny that my reasons for research into feminism are for purely personal enrichment. Although I feel this research is beneficial to me as I become more woman-like, I also see it as my acceptance of my own sexual identity and sexuality. I realize that I need not lend credibility to my sexuality to anyone other than myself, but considering that I label my sexuality as Lesbian or gay woman, it seems of utmost importance. While I haven’t fooled myself into thinking that being a card carrying feminist will get me dates, I will able to at least hold my own when questions about my motives do come. I will have at least formed my own opinions and be able to lend credibility to the shell with certain obvious labels pasted on it that I call my outward appearance. I wish that my presence invoked inquisitiveness and not the unfortunate contemptuous and resentful stares. I do not want to be the center of attention, I am much too shy in nature for that, but rather to be accepted and perhaps not even noticed for being trans but for being a person, a fellow human. That would be nice for a change.

All of this philosophy is helping me to make more informed choices for my future. It is causing me to think more about things I take for granted. Most importantly it is stimulating me to think. I think more about the changes that I am imposing on my body. I think more about my mannerisms and dress. I’m not sure it will change much about me, but it will at least help me better understand why I am the way I am.

In contemplating my perhaps eventual sexual reassignment surgery, I have started thinking about the concept of being “complete” that so many of my comrades mention. I am realizing more and more that being complete in my context is an ideal that cannot be reached. In terms of the physical perhaps attainable with slight psychological implications, but complete by whom’s definition? I think most operative transsexuals are lured into believing that surgery will complete them, and many are disappointed to find that after surgery not much has changed other than their physical self. Complete-ness to me implies a static state, immobility. As long as one is still breathing, one can never be complete.

It is through these revelations that I have decided to begin to actively pursue and explore my sexuality as a transwoman. I have realized that my current state of having as penis, and perhaps later a neo-vagina, realistically will only affect sexual intercourse. What is between my legs is as ambiguous now to people who see me clothed as it will be after surgery. What I am getting at is I am learning to place less and less importance on my genitalia, and more and more on who I am as a person. In realizing there is much more to life than mere sex, as the hormones have taught me, I have been able to remove the restrictions I had consciously imposed on myself relative to dating and such. I do also realize that saying or writing this is much easier than the actual practice of it will be. I will need courage to walk into an exclusively women’s night for example. It all comes down to self confidence which without testing it, I will never know if I have enough.

Another point that I wanted to note is that I have been getting better at letting go of the things or situations that I cannot change. Throughout my life I have put forth much too much effort in maintaining relationships that were clearly one-sided. I would often try too hard to make something out of nothing, and in the end being disappointed at the outcome or lack thereof. I know this is very vague, so I will try to lend some substance to it. Before my vacation began I tried to contact a friend and their family. It didn’t really work out the way I had hoped for, and in reflection realized I was trying too hard to make something happen borne of purely nostalgic feelings. I guess it doesn’t hurt to try to maintain contact with people I consider dear to me, but at some point the interest must be also there from the other side. Life can be as complicated or as simple as one makes it.

In reading The Female Eunuch I was presented with Altruism, and realized that word gave language to a strong facet of my personality. As much as I doubt I could totally change my altruistic nature, I have been at least trying to subvert it by being a bit more discerning with how I direct my efforts to save the world at my own expense. My therapist exposed me to a mechanism of my altruism, my tendency to make decisions for others. It was a situation where I had decided to “lend” someone some financial support before they even asked me. I had already decided for myself that this person would not survive without my help, instead of leaving the difficult decision to the actual person in need to make for themself. In a way my behavior is selfish when I really look at it in that context. It all gets rather confusing, because at face value it would seem that I was being un-selfish by helping the other person. This isn’t making much sense to me at least, but I have a feeling I am on my way to sorting it out.

I am thankful to have this free time to read, write and contemplate things that serve to further my intellectual development as a person. In proofreading this post, I have noticed there are many incomplete ideas, so I will probably either edit for clarity or expound on the ideas in future posts. Whoever reads this should feel free to comment also. I would welcome discussion and suggestions for further reading.

insomnia

I am an insomniac. I have slept for about an hour and can’t quite get back to it. I think I will write a bit to try to empty my head.

I have planned and booked a trip to Amsterdam for this coming weekend, from Thursday until Monday. I will be traveling there by the high speed ICE train. I booked a hotel on Kerkstraat, called the Golden Bear. You might guess that it is a gay owned hotel, either by the name or the area. Their room rates were super cheap and all the reviews say it is really clean. Hotels in A-dam can be on the dodgy side sometimes. I am happy to be going there again.

I have been scouring the internet to get an idea of the things that I want to do with my time there. I definitely want to check out the Rijksmuseen, as I have been to the Stedelijk and the Van Gogh in the past. I will be there for the start of the Amsterdam Fashion Week. I found a store that will be having a sample sale on designer handbags. There are some larger exhibitions that I am not sure yet whether I will go to them or not.

I have searched out some ethnic restaurants as well, since the Dutch aren’t exactly known for their culinary greatness. I definitely want to eat some Indian food while I am there. I have also found a bunch of Thai restaurants, so I will have to ask a local where they recommend. I will try a Dutch steakhouse, just to see for myself if all the rumors are true. I would also like to have some fish and chips too. I have a feeling that January in Amsterdam will be no great shakes and pretty much dead so I am not worried about dining alone.

I have also done much research on the gay community and the venues there. There is no shortage of men’s bars, but the women’s venues are few in number. The ones I have found are: Custom Café Sugar, Vive La Vie, Saarein II, Sappho, and YouII. Saarein II has a transgender night on Sunday, which I am planning on going to, so I at least know they are open-minded to trans people. The others I will just have to see about.

I am not sure I feel confident enough to go to a specifically “women’s night” yet. Although I am leaving it open. What troubles me is that I am a transwoman and I identify as a gay woman. That mix of labels in certain circumstances could cause some problems for me. Me showing up at a strictly women’s night would remove the ambiguity about my sexuality, quite possibly with negative consequences. Part of me wants to challenge the negative attitudes because after all I would be expressing myself in the way I want. If some women can’t accept it, then that’s their problem not mine. I would rather not feel uncomfortable if at all possible either.

I feel sometimes that the labels I choose to bear that vaguely explain my personal identity, can only be to my social detriment, even within the gay community. Everything would be easier if I were sexually attracted to men, but alas, I am attracted to women. If I were attracted to men I would have more sex than I could handle. Finding another woman that is open-minded enough to be attracted to me is going to take time, and lots of it. I have lived asexually for the past several years, and now that my hormones are back in order, I don’t miss sexual contact at all. I do long for companionship though, sort of?

I am able to envision being asexual for a while longer, possibly for the rest of my life. That doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. I feel as though I have slowly become “stone”, similar to the meaning of stone in “stone butch” (wiki it). I don’t fantasize about being touched anymore and frankly I am not sure I really want someone touching me, male or female. I am not so eager to out myself and also to not divulge more information to strangers than necessary as I have in the past. After all, it seems that strangers already have a fairly well formed, however negative picture of me, and who am I to try to change everyone’s mind? I guess I am developing a stronger personal/emotional defense system. It’s about time.

I am still however bent on exploring new places and situations. I am not about to shutter myself into my own little world. Over my trip to the states I decided to not set myself up for failure by expecting to meet a woman. I went out to try to increase my chances of that eventuality, but with the knowledge that I would most likely be going home alone as I was when I arrived. That attitude worked out well as I didn’t become disappointed when I did not meet anyone.

I compare me going to an all women’s night as to when I used to go to the Caribbean Cultural Club in Roxbury. At three C’s I was the only white face to be found. It took a lot of courage for me to go there and come out alive. There existed a real potential of grave danger at three C’s for me, but somehow I had no problems at all. Women tend to be less violent, and I doubt any of them will be packin’ either. I suppose the worst that could happen is that I am denied entry, or be made to feel uncomfortable. I will try to get a feel for the sentiment before going, or skip it all together. That same night there is another gig called “ButtKraaker” which is a cabaret night with several different performers. They advertise it as night of genDerfuCk, tRans, dYke, faG, quEer, quEer-heaRted, Frigid, aSexUal, tRashy, CeLiBate, gaMes, caBaret, diSco, aRT, peRformAnce, iNstallation…+more. Sounds like nothing I have seen before in one place at one time, and I have a feeling it would be more fun.

I think I will try to get some more sleep now.

Frohes Neues '07

I hope everyone’s New Year 2007 is off to a wonderful start. My 2007 promises to be a very interesting year. I rang in the New Year at the Randolph Country Club, in yep you guessed it, Randolph, MA. I was mostly alone there aside from new friends that I had met over the few convoluted nights I went there. It was fun for the most part, but I was reminded several times in different places over my vacation that a lot of ignorance exists as to what it means to be transsexual. I found that most people make automatic assumptions about me and those like me, largely based on ill-formulated stereotypes.

I was confronted with my fears about my sexuality relative to my present physical characteristics in mid-December. I had taken an ad out in a gay and lesbian dating site back in August when I was very lonely. Once I had actually thought it through to the eventualities of actually dating a female, and what that could mean sexually, I had some fairly traumatic visions. I was thankful that no one seemed to be interested in me, so I just tried to forget about the ad. Then, in one day I received two responses to my ad. Both were American women, and both were connected in some way to the US Military here in Germany.

One of them seemed a bit suspect by her messages to me. Then she asked me what a transwoman was. She turned out not to be interested in the end, so whatever. The other woman is a bit younger than me and of Afro-American descent from Detroit. She is an Army soldier stationed in Darmstadt. We met for a couple of hours the night before I flew to the states. We went for dinner at Haso for some kebab and then hung out at my place for a bit. It went well, but I was unfortunately feeling exhausted from work and therefore wasn’t very much fun to be around. We have been emailing here and there while I was in the states.

Even if the possibility of a relationship with my soldier friend turns out to be nothing, I have made the decision to start working on accepting and understanding my sexuality. I identify as a gay woman. Some people that I have admitted this to have been a little confused by it. That feeling is a result of the ill-formulated stereotypes that serve to misrepresent me and how I feel. Most people automatically assume that because I am a transwoman I am interested in dating men. Society for the most part still doesn’t make the distinction between sexuality and gender. I even found this to be true of the gay scene that I dabbled with in Mass. I was hoping to meet some new women friends while out at the bars, but in the end, two guys came on to me, to whom I quickly clarified “I like girls, sorry.” They of course tried to occasionally convince me to go home with them throughout the night. I stuck to my guns and went home alone every night.

I met some TV’s at two of the three bars I went to, and one of them also tried to take me home. I felt isolated and therefore frustrated because I was the only transwoman at all of the places I went to, and all of the gay women assumed I was into men. I was skeptical before going, and my suspicions were reinforced. I decided to just have a good time by myself and enjoy being in a place where I felt relatively safe. I did meet some nice people, like Mario the DJ at RCC, Shady in NB, and Stephanie and Phyllis at RCC. I had some interesting experiences at RCC that I will elaborate on further in my next post.

Over my vacation in the states I began to enrich my mind with literature. I decided that I should confront my fear and resentment of feminism by educating myself about it. The first book I read was more directly related to my sexuality, “Stone Butch Blues” by Leslie Feinberg. Hir novel opened my eyes to masculine females and what the paradigm stone butch means. I was able to relate to much of what the main character Jess went through. I am now reading “Transliberation”, written by hir also. Another book I picked up is “The Female Eunuch” by Germaine Greer. It is a second wave treatise that was first published in 1970. I am trying to use it merely as a historical reference to help me understand the different phases if you will, of the women’s liberation movement. I found the first derogatory statement about transwomen on page nine. The second I found on page thirty three. Instead of letting the comments get to me I have decided to note them in the back cover and continue to read on. I know that attitudes have somewhat evolved since then, so I am taking them with a grain of salt. They hurt nonetheless.

More later…