It's an odd song to equate with a child, but I remember the one season we followed American Idol, and Blake Lewis sang it, and Cassie thought he was the shiz.
Myriah and I went to see David Duchovny sing at the Burklee Theater last night. David cannot dance; he dances like a dad be-bopping along in the kitchen to an Elvis song, embarrassing his children. And he doesn't have much of a vocal range. But he's charismatic, and gorgeous, and it was fun. He did a cover of The Weight. What is it about that song? All the gorgeous tv show dudes sing it.
We also scored tickets to see Amanda Palmer and Edward Ka-Spel in May at the Middle East. That should be a really amazing show.
I have such a hard time feeling pleasure nowadays, live music is one of the only experiences I really find immersive enough to lose myself in for a while. Movies, tv, and books don't do it anymore.
This might be long. I'm so tired I can't think. I need advice, people of the internet. Decide my life for me, m'kay?
Backstory:
I didn't work outside the home for 17 years because I was taking care of Cassie and Tyra. Cassie died in 2014, I got a retail job while thinking about what to do with my life. I have a BA in English, but honestly, no skills. I don't know Microsoft office or much of anything, really. Oh, and I'm transgender, which complicates a lot of the "single mommy back in the world" type office jobs. Oh, and now I have severe anxiety and PTSD and complex grief. So. Crap retail job, just to get out of the house. Decide to go back to college, and the summer before classes start, I took a job at a hotel, overnight shift. Last semester that worked out okay. It wasn't ideal, but I survived. I could study at night, though I was constantly sleep deprived. This semester, two weeks in, I'm dying. I think maybe literally dying. The college changed the scheduling; there are no longer 5 day a week, 50 minute classes. All classes meet twice a week for 75 minutes. And classes dont' start until 8:30. So while last semester I had days that I was done by 11am, now I am at school until 1:30pm. The hotel I work at is half an hour away. So I have to rush home from school and immediately fall asleep to get up at 9:30pm and go to work on 7 hours sleep. I don't have time to eat, or shower, or see the sun or do anything fun to try to combat my soul-sucking depression. But who gives up a pretty cushy full time job, even if the pay is only a few cents above minimum wage? Also, no benefits, holiday pay, sick time, or PTO. But still. I get paid to study, basically. When I'm awake enough to study. And also, I have developed really severe anxiety about driving at night. So the half hour commute is utter hell. Add in a little snow and just FUCK.
So what do I do? Can I justify dedicating most of my time to college, at 45 years old, when I should have a full time job like a normal adult? I just want to be an academic. But also, to eat and have heat and see a movie occasionally. I don't make enough to live off of now; without the student loan money, I couldn't pay my basic monthly living expenses.
So, my choices, as I see them.
1. quit job, get part time job closer to home, supplement with student loans, knitting, and maybe try writing too. Finish degree in social work, get real-er job.
2. Quit school, get second part time job to make ends meet, accept fate
Backstory:
I didn't work outside the home for 17 years because I was taking care of Cassie and Tyra. Cassie died in 2014, I got a retail job while thinking about what to do with my life. I have a BA in English, but honestly, no skills. I don't know Microsoft office or much of anything, really. Oh, and I'm transgender, which complicates a lot of the "single mommy back in the world" type office jobs. Oh, and now I have severe anxiety and PTSD and complex grief. So. Crap retail job, just to get out of the house. Decide to go back to college, and the summer before classes start, I took a job at a hotel, overnight shift. Last semester that worked out okay. It wasn't ideal, but I survived. I could study at night, though I was constantly sleep deprived. This semester, two weeks in, I'm dying. I think maybe literally dying. The college changed the scheduling; there are no longer 5 day a week, 50 minute classes. All classes meet twice a week for 75 minutes. And classes dont' start until 8:30. So while last semester I had days that I was done by 11am, now I am at school until 1:30pm. The hotel I work at is half an hour away. So I have to rush home from school and immediately fall asleep to get up at 9:30pm and go to work on 7 hours sleep. I don't have time to eat, or shower, or see the sun or do anything fun to try to combat my soul-sucking depression. But who gives up a pretty cushy full time job, even if the pay is only a few cents above minimum wage? Also, no benefits, holiday pay, sick time, or PTO. But still. I get paid to study, basically. When I'm awake enough to study. And also, I have developed really severe anxiety about driving at night. So the half hour commute is utter hell. Add in a little snow and just FUCK.
So what do I do? Can I justify dedicating most of my time to college, at 45 years old, when I should have a full time job like a normal adult? I just want to be an academic. But also, to eat and have heat and see a movie occasionally. I don't make enough to live off of now; without the student loan money, I couldn't pay my basic monthly living expenses.
So, my choices, as I see them.
1. quit job, get part time job closer to home, supplement with student loans, knitting, and maybe try writing too. Finish degree in social work, get real-er job.
2. Quit school, get second part time job to make ends meet, accept fate
Ask me my top five things in any category. If you want. Or don't. It's cool with me.
Adendum by Logan
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairing: Sherlock/Watson
Rating: t for teen
Spoilers: We got 'em!
( Read more...Collapse )
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairing: Sherlock/Watson
Rating: t for teen
Spoilers: We got 'em!
( Read more...Collapse )
Anyone watching Lemony Snickett's A Series of Unfortunate Events on Netflix? The tone and direction reminds me of Pushing Daisies. Patrick Warburton is an utter delight.
Elbow http://elbow.co.uk has a new album coming out soon! Very excited for this. And Explosions in the Sky is coming to Providence in April! Yay for music. It keeps me going.
Elbow http://elbow.co.uk has a new album coming out soon! Very excited for this. And Explosions in the Sky is coming to Providence in April! Yay for music. It keeps me going.
My Dearest Darling Cassie,
Three hours ago marked the third anniversary of the moment you died. I'm incredulous as I type those words, and incredulous that I have somehow managed to survive three years without you. I didn't think I would. Every day, I think, will include the last minutes I can't stand to go on in a world where you aren't here. I've wanted so much to make you proud of me. I know that I have changed in ways that would make you respond "what the fuck, dad, seriously?". But I have done my best.
I still think of that day every single day. I'm grateful that the last thing you are was something sweet, because you did love your sweets. Rhonda fed you a chocolate banana popsicle. The last words you ever said were "I love you too." responding to me as we bundled you up to put you in the ambulance. I think with great regret about how you were so adamant that you didn't want to die at that hospital. I wish I had known, or been able to accept, what was happening that night. I wish I had kept you home. Another couple of hours and you would have had your wish. I wish I had thought more, I wish I had asked Franke to bring flowers for your hair and not just your favorite dress. I wish we'd annointed you with oils, played music, I wish, I wish. This is why I am now going to dedicate my life to helping others who were in my place that night. So I can remind others to think about flowers, and music, and all the little things that they'll wish they had done later.
Since you died, your Uncle Bear has passed away too. I don't think that I believe in heaven, not as some mystical place where you go when you die, but over and over, I imagine you, Ninny, Uncle Dennis and now Uncle Bear together. You are loved wherever you are. If you were still here, you would be almost 20 years old, and I imagine you healthy and whole, with long straight fingers and a woman's figure, your skin perfect, strong, and you driving some cute little red sportscar and driving way too fast, cackling gleefully as your hair whips around you. My little firecracker. Wherever you are, I know that you knew you were loved.
Three hours ago marked the third anniversary of the moment you died. I'm incredulous as I type those words, and incredulous that I have somehow managed to survive three years without you. I didn't think I would. Every day, I think, will include the last minutes I can't stand to go on in a world where you aren't here. I've wanted so much to make you proud of me. I know that I have changed in ways that would make you respond "what the fuck, dad, seriously?". But I have done my best.
I still think of that day every single day. I'm grateful that the last thing you are was something sweet, because you did love your sweets. Rhonda fed you a chocolate banana popsicle. The last words you ever said were "I love you too." responding to me as we bundled you up to put you in the ambulance. I think with great regret about how you were so adamant that you didn't want to die at that hospital. I wish I had known, or been able to accept, what was happening that night. I wish I had kept you home. Another couple of hours and you would have had your wish. I wish I had thought more, I wish I had asked Franke to bring flowers for your hair and not just your favorite dress. I wish we'd annointed you with oils, played music, I wish, I wish. This is why I am now going to dedicate my life to helping others who were in my place that night. So I can remind others to think about flowers, and music, and all the little things that they'll wish they had done later.
Since you died, your Uncle Bear has passed away too. I don't think that I believe in heaven, not as some mystical place where you go when you die, but over and over, I imagine you, Ninny, Uncle Dennis and now Uncle Bear together. You are loved wherever you are. If you were still here, you would be almost 20 years old, and I imagine you healthy and whole, with long straight fingers and a woman's figure, your skin perfect, strong, and you driving some cute little red sportscar and driving way too fast, cackling gleefully as your hair whips around you. My little firecracker. Wherever you are, I know that you knew you were loved.
1. Where did you begin 2016? In my living room, here in Warwick, RI.
2. Did you have to go to the hospital? Yes, but it was minor.
3. Did you have any encounters with the police? Not for me. I work at a hotel, and I did have to call them once for a health check on guest who checked in right out of the hospital then wasn't answering his phone.
4. Where did you go on vacation? Vacation? What is this word?
5. What did you purchase that was over $500? A semester of college, does that count?
6. Did you know anybody who got married? Online aquiantainces, but no one close to me.
7. What sporting events did you attend? None.
8. What concerts/shows did you go to? Welcome to Nightvale at the Orpheum in Boston, Aurelio Voltaire at the Middle East in Boston, Peter Murphy at the Middle East.
9. Where do you live now? In my house. It's in Warwick, RI.
10. Describe your birthday: My room mate made me a cake that looked like a cat face, it was super cute, and we had burritos, per my request, for dinner. Other than that, it was an ordinary day.
11. What’s the one thing you thought you would never do, but did in 2016? Went back to college, drove through downtown Boston on a Friday.
12. What’s something you learned about yourself? My gives a fucks are all gone. Every last one of them. Also, that I can manage academics and a full time job.
13. Any new additions to your family? Nope
14. What was your best month? July, maybe. None of them stand out.
15. What music will you remember 2016 by? That Phantogram song that I can't get out of my head.
16. Made new friends? Not really. Met cool new people, but haven't really bonded to the friendship level.
17. Favorite night out? Welcome to Nightvale. Ghost Stories is my favorite of the touring scripts and it was awesome.
18. Any regrets? One or two.
19. What do you want to change in 2017? I did very well in school in 2016, but I could have done better. I want to be more organized going into the next semester so I have less anxiety about school.
20. Overall, how would you rate this year? 3/10. I had tension and unhappiness with room mates, several dental surgeries that ended with me learning to cope with having an upper denture, which sucks, child drama and heartache, and my dearest friend losing both her stepfather and her father.
21. Other than home, where did you spend most of your time? Work.
22. Change your hairstyle? Yes. I shaved my head to be Uncle Fester for Halloween, but it's grown back now.
23. Buy a new car? No, but I plan to in 2017. I'm going to Israel for the summer, then if I come back after, I'll sell the minivan, that I no longer need.
24. Any car accidents? Nope.
25. How old did you turn this year? 44
26. Do you have a New Year’s resolution? Be better at supporting independent artists. I'm looking at my entertainment budget and decided who/how much I can support various artists/musicians/podcasts on Patreon.
27. Do anything embarrassing? Yes. let's not talk about it.
28. Be honest - did you watch American Idol? Is that still on?
29. Start a new hobby? I started learning how to crochet, but it hasn't become a full blown hobby yet.
30. Will you be happy to see 2016 go? I am afraid 2017 is going to be worse.
31. Been naughty or nice? That's relative.
2. Did you have to go to the hospital? Yes, but it was minor.
3. Did you have any encounters with the police? Not for me. I work at a hotel, and I did have to call them once for a health check on guest who checked in right out of the hospital then wasn't answering his phone.
4. Where did you go on vacation? Vacation? What is this word?
5. What did you purchase that was over $500? A semester of college, does that count?
6. Did you know anybody who got married? Online aquiantainces, but no one close to me.
7. What sporting events did you attend? None.
8. What concerts/shows did you go to? Welcome to Nightvale at the Orpheum in Boston, Aurelio Voltaire at the Middle East in Boston, Peter Murphy at the Middle East.
9. Where do you live now? In my house. It's in Warwick, RI.
10. Describe your birthday: My room mate made me a cake that looked like a cat face, it was super cute, and we had burritos, per my request, for dinner. Other than that, it was an ordinary day.
11. What’s the one thing you thought you would never do, but did in 2016? Went back to college, drove through downtown Boston on a Friday.
12. What’s something you learned about yourself? My gives a fucks are all gone. Every last one of them. Also, that I can manage academics and a full time job.
13. Any new additions to your family? Nope
14. What was your best month? July, maybe. None of them stand out.
15. What music will you remember 2016 by? That Phantogram song that I can't get out of my head.
16. Made new friends? Not really. Met cool new people, but haven't really bonded to the friendship level.
17. Favorite night out? Welcome to Nightvale. Ghost Stories is my favorite of the touring scripts and it was awesome.
18. Any regrets? One or two.
19. What do you want to change in 2017? I did very well in school in 2016, but I could have done better. I want to be more organized going into the next semester so I have less anxiety about school.
20. Overall, how would you rate this year? 3/10. I had tension and unhappiness with room mates, several dental surgeries that ended with me learning to cope with having an upper denture, which sucks, child drama and heartache, and my dearest friend losing both her stepfather and her father.
21. Other than home, where did you spend most of your time? Work.
22. Change your hairstyle? Yes. I shaved my head to be Uncle Fester for Halloween, but it's grown back now.
23. Buy a new car? No, but I plan to in 2017. I'm going to Israel for the summer, then if I come back after, I'll sell the minivan, that I no longer need.
24. Any car accidents? Nope.
25. How old did you turn this year? 44
26. Do you have a New Year’s resolution? Be better at supporting independent artists. I'm looking at my entertainment budget and decided who/how much I can support various artists/musicians/podcasts on Patreon.
27. Do anything embarrassing? Yes. let's not talk about it.
28. Be honest - did you watch American Idol? Is that still on?
29. Start a new hobby? I started learning how to crochet, but it hasn't become a full blown hobby yet.
30. Will you be happy to see 2016 go? I am afraid 2017 is going to be worse.
31. Been naughty or nice? That's relative.
Sometimes I think one of the most difficult things about being transgender is the lack of continuity with the first 30 years of my life. It wasn't just my name and body that changed: everyone in my family responded to me differently, and mostly for the worse. My family was never perfect. Like everyone else, we had our ups and downs. We had drug addicts and a great uncle that while I only met him a couple of times, I understood that the children were never supposed to be alone in a room with him. I grew up in the deep south, and we had teen pregnancies, alcoholism, and my uncle, C.J. He was gay, but he knew he shouldn't be. He tried so hard no to be. He even became a priest to avoid being gay, because he knew he would never be accepted by our family. But it didn't work, he couldn't pray the gay away, and he left the priesthood before taking his final vows. I grew up hearing the things our family members, his own mother, said about him behind his back. I knew that the reaction to me transitioning would be even worse, and I was right. After my mother died, everyone remaining on her side of the family cut off contact with me. This hurt, but I had my own little family to care for, and I pushed it to the back of my mind for as long as I could, though I hated watching my children grow up and knowing they wouldn't have the large extended family I had grown up. Because for better or worse, they had been mine, and that gave me some sense of having a place in the world.
Despite us having a huge thing in common, being the rainbow sheep of the family, C.J. and I lost touch too. He struggled with an addiction to pain pills, and what I believe was undiagnosed bipolar disorder. I would get loving emails from him for a few years, then an angry tirade about a slight offense, news about me heard from another family member and he was so offended I hadn't told him first that he broke off contact with me. It wasn't even big news, and I hadn't told the family member; they'd heard it third hand from facebook. But that didn't matter. I didn't have time to worry about his mercurial temperment. I had a terminally ill child to take care of.
This sense of loss, and lack of continuity, was brought home so painfully when she died. None of my extended family on my mother's side came to her memorial service or even sent a card. When I ceased to exist to them as the girl they had known, my children did as well. I hated them all for that. Though there's an argument to be made that we were all better off not having judgemental, narrow-minded people like that around us, I hated that my children had been cut off form a family that included dozens of cousins all across the country. It never feels good to believe you've been judged and found unworthy, and that's how I felt.
The last chapter of this story ended on Christmas day, when I learned that C.J. died in November of pancreatic cancer. In November. No one called, emailed, or tagged me in a facebook post to inform me. They are in the wrong, so why does that make me feel so worthless? I want to be worthy of their love, and in their eyes I'm not. My baby sister has never been able to accept my transition, and while she stayed in birthday-and-christmas contact with my children when Cassie was alive, I have ceased to exist since my daughter's death. I feel so unmoored in this world. My story ended at age 30 with my transition, and then again at 41 with the death of my child. Everything since then feels like postscript, and I wish I could say that didn't hurt. But I can't. It does.
Despite us having a huge thing in common, being the rainbow sheep of the family, C.J. and I lost touch too. He struggled with an addiction to pain pills, and what I believe was undiagnosed bipolar disorder. I would get loving emails from him for a few years, then an angry tirade about a slight offense, news about me heard from another family member and he was so offended I hadn't told him first that he broke off contact with me. It wasn't even big news, and I hadn't told the family member; they'd heard it third hand from facebook. But that didn't matter. I didn't have time to worry about his mercurial temperment. I had a terminally ill child to take care of.
This sense of loss, and lack of continuity, was brought home so painfully when she died. None of my extended family on my mother's side came to her memorial service or even sent a card. When I ceased to exist to them as the girl they had known, my children did as well. I hated them all for that. Though there's an argument to be made that we were all better off not having judgemental, narrow-minded people like that around us, I hated that my children had been cut off form a family that included dozens of cousins all across the country. It never feels good to believe you've been judged and found unworthy, and that's how I felt.
The last chapter of this story ended on Christmas day, when I learned that C.J. died in November of pancreatic cancer. In November. No one called, emailed, or tagged me in a facebook post to inform me. They are in the wrong, so why does that make me feel so worthless? I want to be worthy of their love, and in their eyes I'm not. My baby sister has never been able to accept my transition, and while she stayed in birthday-and-christmas contact with my children when Cassie was alive, I have ceased to exist since my daughter's death. I feel so unmoored in this world. My story ended at age 30 with my transition, and then again at 41 with the death of my child. Everything since then feels like postscript, and I wish I could say that didn't hurt. But I can't. It does.
Happy Holidays, everyone. I hope they're great. Mine has been as good as it could be. I have a different rubric for "good" nowdays. I have survived it thus far, so let's call it a win. On Monday we (me and the room mates) had friends over for dinner and that was nice. Then a busy week of work and my last final for this semester. Thursday was the company christmas party, then tonight before leaving for work the household did stockings and presents. I had said earlier in the morning that my diet the last couple of weeks had been awful and I needed to eat something green that wasn't a cookie. I said this as I was eating a green, tree-shaped cookie for breakfast. So Jessica put a bag of brussel sprouts in my stocking. I got some yarn and two books, and a book I had ordered for myself arrived in the mail today, so I am all set in the present department. Now it's nearing the end of my night shift at work, and I've been knitting and listening to audiobook all night. I listened to The Bungalow House by Thomas Ligotti, read by Jon Padgett, whose book I just received in the mail today. Once I get off work I'll be heading to Boston to hang out with a friend and her family for a while. Everyone stay safe, have fun, and be kind to someone who needs it today.
<iframe width="490" height="370" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9Ftek
<iframe width="490" height="370" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9Ftek
We had our household yule gathering last night. For those who are new, or not aware, of my household configuration, it looks like this: my housemates are Jessica and Chris, and Jessica's daughter Ari. I have known Jessica for about 15 years and Ari sees me as an uncle. Jessica and Chris are polyamorous, so not living with us, but part of the family, are Monty and Josh, two of Jessica's other partners, and Ruby, Christina and Sonya, Monty's other partners. So we had quite the houseful last night. Jessica and I gave each other the same gift (The Exploding Kittens expansion set), and I got some Bombus socks, so now I'm ready to run to Tanis! They're actually super comfortable. Ari gave me a cat calendar, which was adorable. So for me, yule and christmas are more or less done. I have my last final in a few hours, then I'm out of school until January 23rd. I'm looking forward to reading for fun. I haven't finished a book that wasn't for school work since August.
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