My first night "out"

One of the few people that I actually know who I'm out to is my friend "Sam" who is a lesbian and trans FTM, pre-op. If I just used a bunch of terms you don't know, Sam is a biological woman who feels like a man. She dressed like a man, buzzes her hair, and one day wants to start testosterone therapy and possibly have a few operations to make her body match her head. So, as a lesbian, she is very "butch". She lives three hours away from me, so I don't get to see her often, but the other weekend she was in town. She convinced me to go with her to the local "gay" bar, which, truth to tell, while I had been curious, I never would have gone there on my own. I was terrified that I would see someone I know, or someone I know would recognize my car outside the place and ask why I was there, etc. 

Going out that night convinced me of a few things.

I really hate bars, of any variety. I hate cigarette smoke. I hate the way my eyes itch in it, I hate the way my clothes smell when I've been surrounded by it. I wish there was a gay coffee-house or a gay bookstore or a gay anything-else-but-a-bar in my town, because I truly hate bars.

I hate when people I'm with get drunk to the point of throwing up. Sam didn't, but her brother was with her, and he did. I was so embarrassed I wanted to sink into the floor, and I don't think I'm ever going to a bar again with Steele - although I might with Sam.

Kissing a woman is beautiful. Sam offered a little no-strings makeout, since she knows I haven't found the nerve to approach another woman yet. Kissing her was beautiful, and felt right in a way kissing a guy never felt. 

After kissing Sam I was able to start day-dreaming about what kind of woman I want to meet. Before it was just some kind of amorphous "woman" - now I've been thinking of what kind of hair I think is cute, and what things I would like her to be into, how she might dress, which books she might read. 

But cigarette smoke and vomit remain disgusting.

Why do people want to do things that lead to such substances?

So, I'm Famous

Apparently I'm the blog of the week in the Dallas Morning News - who knew? 

It's funny. I've had blogs on all kinds of things, wanted people to read them. The one time I'd prefer to just blog into the void - I get national attention.

Baby hunger

So, one of my friends had a baby last week. He's really cute, a little wide-eyed person staring out in the world.

While I know that I am not ready financially, relationally, or probably most other ways, I'm pretty sure that hormonally I am ready to have a baby. Every time I see one I want to hold it, every time I hold one, I want one.

Now, most of my life I've known that I had to wait until I was married to have children, but when I was planning on marrying a man, I knew that when the time came children would naturally come.

Now that's not so much the case.

I know I have options. Adoption, in vitro, etc...

I just wish that when the time comes... there's a way to make my child genetically mine and my yet to be discovered partner.

The romance is gone, but...

So, I go out to my favorite Mexican restaurant tonight. It's a little family owned place, with three generations currently working there, and absolutely fabulous fajitas. Another thing they have, that very few places actually do, is a desert called flan. Now, I grew up knowing people who made this wondrous desert at home, and came to enjoy it in that form. Now, among the few restaurants that actually have flan, some do a horrendous job, while others are decent. My favorite restaurant is fantastic at it. 

Back to tonight. I get my chips and salsa. I get my beef fajitas. I ask for my flan.

After a little while of waiting, the middle generation lady of this restaurant came out to my table, apologized, and said that someone had served the last unfrozen flan without taking out any more, but that she would be glad to pack one up for me to take home, and I could have it tomorrow. This seemed fine with me, she came back with a paper bag, and I payed my bill and left.

At home I peeked into the bag, wondering how one packages a flan, and found it in a plastic package complete with safety seal... this most wondrous flan is MASS PRODUCED, and not made by a little Hispanic grandmother in the back of the kitchen. This initially made me a little disappointed - the mystery is all gone... but now I'm wondering... if this restaurant can order frozen flan from somewhere, can I?

For those of you who have been wondering this whole time, what the heck is flan, the American Heritage Dictionary says it is "a custard that is baked in a caramel-lined mold and served chilled with the caramel side up." I say it is good. Above is a picture, randomly found on the internet.

War

One of my friends got online tonight to tell me that she is joining the army so she can pay to continue to go to school. I was stunned, shocked, silent, and finally managed to tell her that I would pray for her and for her to let me know how it goes, etc.

But see there is this one thing.

I believe war is wrong.

Incredibly wrong.

Really, really wrong.

There is never an excuse for it wrong.

and I didn't say anything.

because, obviously, she doesn't feel that way, or she wouldn't be joining the army.

I went to school with her, and I know that she is a deeply committed Christian. My faith has lead me to believe there is no just war, while her equally Christian faith lead her to believe that there is such a thing. 

Just as I don't want people pounding me over the head with Bible verses that I've already examined, I have to assume that she has thought about this, prayed about this, etc, and any convincing I try to do will just hurt.

But I wonder... should I tell her that I'm anti-war?

Should I tell her that I pray every day that this conflict will end?

Should I tell her that I cry every time I hear of anyone, American or not, dying or being horribly injured in this stupid war?

Or do I just silently add her to the list of people that I pray and cry for?

Oh Lord, Why do the nations rage?

Bravery and Cowardice

So, I finally got up the nerve/self realization to start blogging, and meet lots of really nice people, and a few really nasty ones, and etc, y'all saw that.

I felt kind of like someone who had come out into the sun, was discovering that it was nice, and then had a bucket of fish heads dumped on me.

That, plus fears that people would somehow discern who I was if they stumbled upon my blog and actually know me. 

So, that's why I haven't written recently.

I'm not sure how to resolve these issues.

I'm in the process of getting a new job, that I really want, and am afraid that in some freak of technology, that the people hiring me will find this blog and somehow know it's me, which is rather irrational I know.

I kind of want to curl into a ball and say "you can't see me, you can't see me..."

Oh Lord, help me to be brave in You.

Enough already!

I'm all for discussion - with me - once you start addressing comments to other people leaving me comments  - basically having an argument THROUGH me, I get tired of it.

and Anonymous, even if I don't post your comments, I do read them, but since you're basically saying the same thing, I didn't see the need to repost them, and continue the fight in my comment log. And really, choose a name, even if it's TrueVoiceOfTheMostHigh. You don't have to have a blog, or an account with blogger, to post under a name. If you believe in this so strongly, why not give me a name to identify you with?

and btw, your "I know all the answers, I have two degrees in theology." attitude doesn't impress me much, it just gets my back up. There are people with MDivs who think God is dead. A degree is not a guarantee of theology. Some people think it is a hinderance to it.