Just Me and the Boys

People who have known me my whole life have seen me in makeup and heels, with curled bangs and either waved or crimped hair (really). My hair is very thick and stick straight. Without a waver, I would have had no body in my hair at all. Now, I keep it short so I don’t have to worry about “body” to make it look good. So, you see, my hair has never been a part of my feminine identity. I just wanted to wear what A) I thought looked good B) fit into the category of not really showing my body in any way.

I am not a prude, I am autistic and want cloth to make me feel secure and help me move better (my cerebral palsy/hypotonia/lack of 3D vision are also tied to autism). Therefore, I am usually wearing trousers as opposed to shorts, and if I’m not wearing a long sleeved shirt, it has to get really damn hot before I’ll even think of taking off my hoodie.

Bryn and Dave coming to visit is a perfect example. Since we’ll be going to museums, that means jeans and a t-shirt with a hoodie or a jacket. That’s because it might be cool outside, but it will definitely be cold in the air conditioning. They want to go to SPY, and when Bryn told me that, I said, “the SPY museum? I’m not familiar.” For new readers, they should just count out the middle man and give me an apartment out back.

The last time I went, I got a long-sleeved boys’ t-shirt (size large fits so perfectly on me because the shoulders look tailored to my frame and the sleeves don’t go over my hands). It’s navy and has three stripes across the front with a spy in a hat carrying a briefcase is running through it, as well as International Spy Museum stacked on the stripes. It’s one of the coolest shirts I’ve ever seen, and says “Washington, DC” down the sleeve. The only thing it doesn’t have is the official logo of the museum on the sleeve, and personally, that’s what makes it for me.

When I first moved here, the spy museum was on F Street (now it’s at L’Enfant Plaza) and I loved it because of the Shake Shack across the street. It was also more intimate.

Here’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to me at the museum which makes for hilarity later:

So, at the Spy Museum, the introduction has changed. On F Street, you walked in and there were plaques with all these different covers on them. You had to choose one and use it throughout the whole walkthrough. What they did not say is that it is sort of a computer based training sort of thing, where you have to remember the details of what you’ve heard and answer questions about them.

I’m lightly panicking because I am only a tiny bit known for my acting ability and I wouldn’t know the first thing about magic (that’s how Tony and Jonna pulled off their tricks- using the same concept as you would use on stage, and in an intelligence officer’s case, their stage is their area of operations).

I decide that because of my frame, my best shot at this is an 18-year-old male from Britain called Colin.

So there I am, walking around like a jackass…… I’m trying to figure out an accent, mannerisms, walk, the whole nine yards.

Then, I got inside the museum and therefore the first computer, and I nearly fell on the floor laughing.

That was the day I bought a t-shirt that said “Argo @#$% Yourself” in black with the museum logo on the sleeve. Then, years later, I got a picture of him wearing the same shirt from Jonna and it made my year because he’d already passed and I wondered if he even knew about them.

Later, I learned that he and Jonna were on the board of the museum, so I’m pretty sure he knew about them.

God, I hope that they make more Mendez movies. I would love for Hollywood to make a mashup of “The Moscow Rules” and “In True Face.” That’s because since “Argo” won best picture, that story has already been told. The ones during The Cold War have not. I assume that Hollywood will get it together.

Rule #1

Assume nothing.

Rule following gets you nowhere in my line of work. In the world of “go big or go home,” this is the only place I feel truly comfortable doing so, because it’s such a part of me. I’m not very physically capable, but I can throw together a sentence or two. I love that other people love my candor and honesty because it shows me every day that I do not have to please anyone. People will show up every day to hear what I say no matter what it is.

That being said, they will always have to come to me. I am not Shonda Rimes.

:::stares in Grey’s Anatomy:::

“It’s an American tendency to ruin things a little bit so we can have more of it.” -The Good Place re: ice cream vs. frozen yogurt

I am strong enough to take massive criticism by ignoring it. That’s because for every person that says my writing is terrible, there’s one who thinks I’m the best blogger they’ve ever read. Or, in this day and age, they think long form Internet posts are new because they’re too young to remember 2001, which is when I started my old blog, “Clever Title Goes Here.” I sometimes wonder if I’d have done better staying under the same name, but now that it’s been 12 or 13 years since I tanked Clever Title at my own hand, I’ve gotten back any potential “customers” I lost. My web stats aren’t enormous, but they aren’t small, either. I have to compare my audience to congregation size, because then a small number of people looks ENORMOUS.

Today, I had web stats on my post a minute and a half after I published it, and a like three and a half minutes later. That means someone is reading me AS SOON as the entry comes out. And then, my watch buzzes all afternoon because JetPack doesn’t tell you every time someone visits, but every time someone notices you inside the WordPress community. Therefore, an astounding number of my readers are people who are writers just like me.

Including, apparently, my boyfriend….. Who didn’t tell me he had a blog until we’d been dating a year. A year. A YEAR, people. It’s been the most helpful thing I’ve ever experienced, being written about rather than writing about someone else. I don’t have to cut off any one of my limbs to see Zac’s blog entries about me, he’ll link to me and I’ll get what’s called a “ping back.”

Because I got a ping back instead of a note from Zac that he’d answered my daily prompt entries with one of his own, I thought I was meeting this great new local blogger, and my friends will think I had as big a “dumbass attack” as I actually did when I didn’t know his userid….. MrWould.

Speaking of which, Zac is not a super fan. He surfs and reads me occasionally, but we don’t obsessively read each other’s writing. It feeds me because I actually get to tell him about my life and add more detail than I can here because we have more modes of communication- like talking. Sometimes I forget that I actually do need to see people’s eyes… Or in the case of a video chat, their legs. 😉 If you haven’t seen them stand up in three years, it’s been too long since you’ve seen ’em.

There’s a lot to be said in a hug that can’t be voiced, and I need to remember it. Keep it. Write it down.

I just did, but I hear a particular voice in my head when I type it. Supergrover and I have a favorite “influencer” on Instagram, so when I heard the voice in my head, I thought of SG! and laughed.

Ah, where were we? (When I think of her personality, I go a little starry-eyed…..)

My audience size is not influencer size, but that has less to do with my talent and more to do with the fact that less people are willing to read long entries at all. I had a guy in r/washingtondc ask me “do people still have blogs?” This is why Jaz called me “prehistoric,” I guess.

I am, however, known. People who have much stronger voices than me have liked things I said. My favorite so far has been “Picoult, that line slayed. I’m stealing it.” The heart was worth its weight in gold, because she was my mother’s favorite author in the whole entire world.

We were also both watching the first trans woman we’d ever seen on Oprah Winfrey, and I told her she hadn’t aged a day since then (I think her autobiography was published in either the late 90s or early 200s) and what was her secret? She said, “moisturize.”

That trans woman was Jennifer Finney Boyle, co=author with Jodie Picoult on the novel “Mad Honey.”

I’ve met Anne Lamott, David Sedaris, and Jonna Mendez. Therefore, I have met my top three favorite authors so far, and I hope to continue meeting them as I acquire good books. There are some I need to get on it faster than others………. I learned that lesson hardcore when I got to DC just as Tony Mendez stopped doing public appearances because of the Parkinson’s. I missed him by mere months.

There are just so many reasons I wish both Dana and I had been here before 2015. That being said, I would not have wanted to wait any longer to see that we were capable of physical violence when we were both melting down, because then I could say honestly that we were not good for each other without putting blame on either one of us. Neither one of us are all bad or all good. There had been a storm brewing for quite some time at that point, and I believe that the only reason we didn’t survive is that we didn’t listen to ourselves whisper, so we listened to ourselves scream.

If you ignore a problem, you think it goes away and it doesn’t. It accrues interest in a bank account you can’t access because you won’t. No one wants to go through the pain of introspection- not even me. It is truly a feeling of “Feel the Fear, and Do It, Anyway” (Susan Jeffers’ groundbreaking book). This is because the more I explore the internal mechanisms of my brain, the more I feel comfortable in my own skin. My bullshit detector has grown in full force, because I have found my own north star and internal compass. Sometimes, it’s devastatingly wrong, but it’s still my compass as opposed to trying to earn someone else’s or give mine away.

My goal is a movie deal based on my novel, and I think I can pull it off if I work very hard. But it is not time for writing fiction yet in terms of a work in progress. That is because I don’t have all the main story points worked out. I don’t have to work out highlights, but transitions. Where the peaks and valleys are, because I’m writing about war. I have to learn the ins and outs of what means victory and what means defeat. That’s because I don’t know whether the book will end with an L or a W. For instance, a country that wins a war but is bombed within every square inch doesn’t feel like a win to them once the real work of rebuilding sets in. Yet no one ever seems to remember how much work goes into rebuilding something and think, “maybe we shouldn’t blow things up.” I know that war is diplomacy through other means, but it seems like people could try a little harder than “obviously, we cannot reach a conclusion so let’s just start killing each other; whoever gets the most shots in is the winter.”

We can’t all be Elizabeth McCord.

So, in my quest for world peace, I am also thinking about scaling. I cannot go from not knowing how to write fiction at all to producing a book quickly. I am soaking up master classes from everyone I can find. Brandon Sanderson put his whole semester of “Intro to Science Fiction” at BYU on YouTube. There are lots of others, but so far, this playlist is my favorite.

Brandon actually says in the first lecture that this is not just for science fiction writers. He’s going to throw everything at us and we can take it or leave it, from plot, setting, and character to getting it sold.

Zac is also a good resource in this because he submits fiction to contests. On one of them, I was in the writer’s room. “We” got some good feedback. I didn’t help write the whole story, but offered suggestions he took and it made me feel like a million dollars.

I am so rich you wouldn’t believe it if words of assurance could be legal tender. I have so many friends across the world……………….

And also you. 😂😂😂

Kidding, kidding.

This has been a marvelous tangent (realizing what irritates me about Tolkien- I am in this picture and I do not like it. #unsubscribe #block #report), The point was supposed to be about my being nonbinary, and I went from clothes into sensory issues to God knows what and here we are, back at the place where we started.

I wear boys’ clothes, yet comfortable with my femininity. People have expressed this to me in a variety of ways, most of them unprintable. A taste of this would be “you look like a boy, but you….” I’ll let your mind finish that sentence because this is not a family show and you know that already.

My point is that when I started really trying to examine my gender, I realized I saw it on me, but not within me. That how much of each gender I feel might show up in my clothes, accessories, etc. but I have no official attachment to either.

I am very aware that I sound male on the Internet and I use it effectively by saying things a woman would say “in a man’s voice” online. More men pay attention to me that way, and I do not mean that I am inviting male attention. I mean that I have both sets of social masking and I flip from one to the other depending on who is with me. When I am alone, I am stereotypically male. You can see it in my tone even in this entry. My brain is mostly male. I just don’t have any attachment to the male or female body, which is why I am not trans or cis. I feel like it’s a good place to be, because if I had to have a double mastectomy, I would be relieved. All of the sudden, my shirts would hang right. I don’t mean I am unhappy in my body, I am saying that it doesn’t matter what gender I look like because it’s not really a part of my reality.

So much of gender expression is automated by society…. But do people really sit there and think about the fact that they’re cis all the time? I would think it wouldn’t come up unless it was a question people genuinely needed to ask themselves. What cis people don’t understand is that they don’t have to understand. They just have to treat nonbinary and trans as a non-issue. As a redditor posted, “I don’t know French, either, but I respect it exists.” Just because you don’t know something doesn’t make it invalid. The people making it invalid are people who don’t know Jack or shit about gender because they never had to doubt it.

I know I sound like every computer geek who’s ever lived….. And most of them are male. Therefore, I have social masked men my entire career. I also like the Texas old guy patois, and I slip into it easily online because I slip into that patois when I’m not speaking vocally.

I don’t like my voice, so therefore I don’t phrase things like a woman very often. For some reason, hearing the pitch of my own voice makes me act more like a woman than I feel in my head.

Social masking.

My voice is also higher in a recording than I would like it to be, and eschew that, too…… Unless the notes are already high and I need the help.

It always sounds better in the room than on a recording when I sing, because when I’m on a recording, you’re not taking in my emotions. I have a lot of emotions, even in Latin.

I actively run away from my voice because it’s a trap. I don’t sound the way I want to sound, and I don’t want to lose my top range, either. I often think I would think about my childhood a lot less if my voice was deeper, and only the people that were there would understand that tone matters, that dropping an octave makes the note feel so much further away…. Not so extremely loud and incredibly close.

I need a breath after that paragraph.

In this case, it actually would help to be able to cry out from the deep instead of the waves. I got very, very, very lucky that the chord ever resolved at all. Otherwise, I would have been a lovesick teenager chasing after someone who didn’t want me.

Which is what I think about, when it’s just me and the boys.