Felt like I was getting an ulcer, but now I feel better. Although, when I start thinking about stuff, I have to go eat more yogurt. I stress too much.
Danica lent me the memoirs of a MtF woman and I don't remember the title and I'm too lazy to look. There's a tone of certainty throughout the book. She knows absolutely what her identity is, it's just so impossible that during her youth, she felt she needed to change it. A biological male wanting to be a woman is so transgressive, however. You'd have to be pretty damn sure. She's moving from a high status to a low one, culturally, which is hard for culture to accept. "She should have been a son" is a normal phrase and contains a certain amount of praise. "Tomboy" is a normal term. My grandma was all happy once because somebody told her she drove her car like a man. However, compare that to "throws like a girl, " "lady driver," "little girl bike club." An association with female is an association of weakness. Of course every woman wants to be a man. It's penis-envy that drives her whole being. And then s/he'd get all that male privilege, etc etc etc etc. (Trans people are far more likely to be victims of hate crimes but whatever.)
My gay boyfriend says that he would be trans if he were less lazy. (Hacker credo: Laziness is a virtue.) So he's my gay girlfriend and I'm his lesbian boyfriend, he explained. w00t. I don't know how much of a bright line there really is between butch and genderqueer and genderqueer and ftm. Which is to say that I actually don't know. How is Lynne Breedlove identifying these days?
I need to spend more time around dykes, I think. Or eat more soy yogurt. It's full of acidopholus! And estrogen!
I read something yesterday about men and women having different hairlines, so I've spent all day staring at people's foreheads and peaking at myself in the mirror. I'm so vain. My forehead is kind of on the squarish side, I think. I have a hint of an adam's apple. My eyelashes are ten miles long. I feel like the protagonist in Bone Dance sorta, when appearance is described. And I'm electronics and audio technology. But I'm so so so skinny, so I'm not often called sir anymore, since I'm too old to just be a lanky boy. People don't talk to me like they tend to talk to women, nor do they talk to me like they tend to talk to men. Everything seems to be working out right where I am. So why does my stomach keep hurting?