Small Jean Genie
Last Tuesday I went out with my laptop and "let the blood flow on the keys". I was kinda depressed, I have to tell you. I feel positively stupid about the fact that I went to the outside of a night club to write in a laptop but well.. that's me for now. I'm posting it raw, I won't do any editing, so if you find inconsistencies or poor worded feelings think of it as a pseudo stream of consciousness notes piece ;)
It's strange, but nice. I'm writing one of these posts off line, in Notepad and outside Le Buzz in Marietta, GA (a cafe popular with TG people in these parts, mostly gay guys in bermuda shorts though). I'd never been here and the fact that there's little movement doesbn't tell me much about the place's habitual life. It's 9:20 on a Thursday, after all. I'm outside now and a guy came to talk to me and was really nice, he must have thought I'm from a newspaper writing a review on the club, me clacking away on my laptop. I do have to write a thing on it if I ever come back properly, that is with some other company than a laptop. Some new girlFRIENDS maybe? Yes!
People come and go and sounds come from inside, but no one stops here. I guess I must be really strange out here on my own, no drink or anything while everyone is there inside. But that's Vivian for you... very shy :o The music is not bad though, at least not bothersome, Guess you could call it "generic euro club" with some current hit every once in a while (I've heard two versions of Beyonce's cry of sexiness already). I have to say I don't know if it's the right place to come with a laptop to write, but then again that's me. COMPLETELY unable to do anything normal.
A techno version of "You're so vain" A couple of lesbian girls go by now, I recognize a butchy one by watching her walk. Another lesbian, she talks to me this time. I sound so horrible, I have no idea of what to say or how to. I'm going to be a pain in the ass for any half-socialite I team up with. She looked nice and all, the lesbian woman mean, all guyish and strong. Letting myself at last be the way I was meant to be is proving to be a strange but pleasant ride. There's little male inside me anymore, I've eradicated most of it zone by zone. All my male is on the outside, my bones, my voice, my wall. My wall... it still holds up. One of the main problems I guess is the fact that I'm not full time. I still have to interact as male everyday at work (TRY at least, everyone knows I'm not succeeding though
"I'm every woman" plays now. I wonder which will be the "gay music" of 2020. Madonna?
The stone butch went by again, walking all straight like a guy. Just add toothpick to mouth.
It might seem that I'm laughing at these people but nothing is farther from the truth. I respect them, I'm TG after all, it's just that I'm feeling a little strange, that's all.
I always feel jumpy when around people and night spots make me dizzy with self-consciousness. I guess it'll pass, but for now I need a little group security.
Sigh, but I'm determined to get myself to the support group this Saturday. Terrified as I am, I have to move out of this shell. Also because it's a sad remnant of my yesteryears. Back then it was necessary, today it's more like something that it's just there, like a Norman castle. It's ruinous and everything but its walls still cry repel.
I came here to finish a poem I'm writing (The Angel Tree) but I'm kind of stuck, it won't go any further from its twenty scattered verses or so.
Same night, an hour later.
I left the premises of LeBuzz after I finally realized I was not finishing my poem and most important of all, that I was sticking out like a sore thumb.
I'm at a $tupidBuck$ now, amid fratboys and middle aged newspaper readers. Just a pun though, the place is quiet and nice, and it looks like I could have a lot of their drinks. The Chai Tea Latte is awesome. It's my first time in a Starbucks (they spelled my name "Vivien" and not "Vivian" on the cup, guess I can live with that. I like it that way too.)
I don't like the building itself much. It's a modern tall ceilinged thing with exposed air conditioning ducts, which makes it not comfy at all. They close at 11 :(
Voice report: Well, even though I've achieved some sort of good pitch and diction at home, I'm a total mess when people are looking at me. I manage an improved "Mr. Softee" voice (refer to earlier post for definition) but it just doesn't do the trick. That I'm not terribly passable and my demeanor is terrible should add to the problem. And I HAVE to shave my arms before tomorrow; the hair subtracts from my otherwise nice forearms and hands.
I'm not going to talk about my Adam's apple tonight. NOTE TO SELF: NEXT TIME GET A STRAW, that way I won't have to flash "the apple" to everyone around.
I have a problem right here (points head) with avoidancy. I'm missing a lot of stuff, and that's only because I shun all human contact by looking away. People must think I'm always looking at something else in a spacey manner, in fact, I'm just fixing my gaze elsewhere.
Gosh, this Chai Latte is good! At least I dont look THAT out of place here though, even among the fratboys and the middle aged readers. Back at the cafe my gender variance was normal, though my activities were abnormal (shunning everyone, sooooooo inconspicuous), here the clacking is just fine, and my TGness is abnormal. Girls are cutesy around here, boys rough but pampered.
The clerks were polite enough to me (I was terrified). I am sitting in one of the four corners of the place, another of those inconspicuous places I choose.
If I ever get the money and the will to go to a therapist my avoidance should be the first thing on the table. I really hate it, and would be very happy without it.
It wasn't always this way though, I became hyper-avoidant during the grueling last years of my adolescence, early 20's (who'd say I'll be 26 in a few months!)
A couple of black guys scribble notes in legal pads, one of them looks at a book with pictures (I'd say medical, though it could be Moon shots for all I know), underlining stuff.
From far, I pass easily. Close, they figure me out and I'm not a tall woman anymore but a cute tranny with small obviously femenine boobs. Strange, when people see me now en femme they don't think "crossdresser" anymore, the word in their minds (the concept in their minds anyway) is "transsexual". And it doesn't bother me as I regard myself as a cute tranny, but I'd like it to move forward from that soon. Of course it's not going to happen soon, but dreaming costs nothing as they say where I was born.
4 minutes till close. I guess I'll pack my stuff and leave now. VOICE VOICE VOICE VOICE
Raspberry Beret (that's what I'm listening to)
Well guess what,no one said goodbye to me so I didn't have to use my voice. I guess I'd done enough revealing for one night. 11:20. Blogger is down for another hour so I think I'll spend it writing and browsing. I rarely sign on to Messenger these days, I don't feel like chatting with anybody. I haven't been on irc for a while also, I can never find someone fun to talk.
Guess my RLT is running in these instances. RLT means you can't skulk back into your male shell for protection. RLT means facing the music. It's as hard as it seemed it would be!
Why would a guy as fem and with such a nice voice as Prince sing things such as "when I was your man blah blah blah". Prince is truly androgynous though, like David Bowie. You don't have to be beautiful to turn me on, you know ;)
It's strange, but nice. I'm writing one of these posts off line, in Notepad and outside Le Buzz in Marietta, GA (a cafe popular with TG people in these parts, mostly gay guys in bermuda shorts though). I'd never been here and the fact that there's little movement doesbn't tell me much about the place's habitual life. It's 9:20 on a Thursday, after all. I'm outside now and a guy came to talk to me and was really nice, he must have thought I'm from a newspaper writing a review on the club, me clacking away on my laptop. I do have to write a thing on it if I ever come back properly, that is with some other company than a laptop. Some new girlFRIENDS maybe? Yes!
People come and go and sounds come from inside, but no one stops here. I guess I must be really strange out here on my own, no drink or anything while everyone is there inside. But that's Vivian for you... very shy :o
A techno version of "You're so vain" A couple of lesbian girls go by now, I recognize a butchy one by watching her walk. Another lesbian, she talks to me this time. I sound so horrible, I have no idea of what to say or how to. I'm going to be a pain in the ass for any half-socialite I team up with. She looked nice and all, the lesbian woman mean, all guyish and strong. Letting myself at last be the way I was meant to be is proving to be a strange but pleasant ride. There's little male inside me anymore, I've eradicated most of it zone by zone. All my male is on the outside, my bones, my voice, my wall. My wall... it still holds up. One of the main problems I guess is the fact that I'm not full time. I still have to interact as male everyday at work (TRY at least, everyone knows I'm not succeeding though
"I'm every woman" plays now. I wonder which will be the "gay music" of 2020. Madonna?
The stone butch went by again, walking all straight like a guy. Just add toothpick to mouth.
It might seem that I'm laughing at these people but nothing is farther from the truth. I respect them, I'm TG after all, it's just that I'm feeling a little strange, that's all.
I always feel jumpy when around people and night spots make me dizzy with self-consciousness. I guess it'll pass, but for now I need a little group security.
Sigh, but I'm determined to get myself to the support group this Saturday. Terrified as I am, I have to move out of this shell. Also because it's a sad remnant of my yesteryears. Back then it was necessary, today it's more like something that it's just there, like a Norman castle. It's ruinous and everything but its walls still cry repel.
I came here to finish a poem I'm writing (The Angel Tree) but I'm kind of stuck, it won't go any further from its twenty scattered verses or so.
Same night, an hour later.
I left the premises of LeBuzz after I finally realized I was not finishing my poem and most important of all, that I was sticking out like a sore thumb.
I'm at a $tupidBuck$ now, amid fratboys and middle aged newspaper readers. Just a pun though, the place is quiet and nice, and it looks like I could have a lot of their drinks. The Chai Tea Latte is awesome. It's my first time in a Starbucks (they spelled my name "Vivien" and not "Vivian" on the cup, guess I can live with that. I like it that way too.)
I don't like the building itself much. It's a modern tall ceilinged thing with exposed air conditioning ducts, which makes it not comfy at all. They close at 11 :(
Voice report: Well, even though I've achieved some sort of good pitch and diction at home, I'm a total mess when people are looking at me. I manage an improved "Mr. Softee" voice (refer to earlier post for definition) but it just doesn't do the trick. That I'm not terribly passable and my demeanor is terrible should add to the problem. And I HAVE to shave my arms before tomorrow; the hair subtracts from my otherwise nice forearms and hands.
I'm not going to talk about my Adam's apple tonight. NOTE TO SELF: NEXT TIME GET A STRAW, that way I won't have to flash "the apple" to everyone around.
I have a problem right here (points head) with avoidancy. I'm missing a lot of stuff, and that's only because I shun all human contact by looking away. People must think I'm always looking at something else in a spacey manner, in fact, I'm just fixing my gaze elsewhere.
Gosh, this Chai Latte is good! At least I dont look THAT out of place here though, even among the fratboys and the middle aged readers. Back at the cafe my gender variance was normal, though my activities were abnormal (shunning everyone, sooooooo inconspicuous), here the clacking is just fine, and my TGness is abnormal. Girls are cutesy around here, boys rough but pampered.
The clerks were polite enough to me (I was terrified). I am sitting in one of the four corners of the place, another of those inconspicuous places I choose.
If I ever get the money and the will to go to a therapist my avoidance should be the first thing on the table. I really hate it, and would be very happy without it.
It wasn't always this way though, I became hyper-avoidant during the grueling last years of my adolescence, early 20's (who'd say I'll be 26 in a few months!)
A couple of black guys scribble notes in legal pads, one of them looks at a book with pictures (I'd say medical, though it could be Moon shots for all I know), underlining stuff.
From far, I pass easily. Close, they figure me out and I'm not a tall woman anymore but a cute tranny with small obviously femenine boobs. Strange, when people see me now en femme they don't think "crossdresser" anymore, the word in their minds (the concept in their minds anyway) is "transsexual". And it doesn't bother me as I regard myself as a cute tranny, but I'd like it to move forward from that soon. Of course it's not going to happen soon, but dreaming costs nothing as they say where I was born.
4 minutes till close. I guess I'll pack my stuff and leave now. VOICE VOICE VOICE VOICE
Raspberry Beret (that's what I'm listening to)
Well guess what,no one said goodbye to me so I didn't have to use my voice. I guess I'd done enough revealing for one night. 11:20. Blogger is down for another hour so I think I'll spend it writing and browsing. I rarely sign on to Messenger these days, I don't feel like chatting with anybody. I haven't been on irc for a while also, I can never find someone fun to talk.
Guess my RLT is running in these instances. RLT means you can't skulk back into your male shell for protection. RLT means facing the music. It's as hard as it seemed it would be!
Why would a guy as fem and with such a nice voice as Prince sing things such as "when I was your man blah blah blah". Prince is truly androgynous though, like David Bowie. You don't have to be beautiful to turn me on, you know ;)
posted by V. at 10:54 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home