happyfish

Mom came back a week ago. It was pretty exciting. I mean, I haven't seen her since Christmas, and I knew she'd storm through the house and fill it full of food and such. It's also unexciting. I'm used to large amounts of time to myself, being able to be completely (or almost) self-sufficient. I can arrange the house in the way that best suits me, I can leave and not tell anyone where I'm going, I can feed the cat however much food that I think she needs. In short, I can be an independent adult, living in my own space. When Mom comes back, suddenly it's not my own space. I'd hesitate even to say that this is my home. It's just a house where I'm staying because I can't afford to stay anywhere else. And it's really annoying, sometimes. I know I can probably get used to living with someone else. I just need to be patient.
There are good things, though. She hasn't said anything about me being on T, hasn't told me she'd rather I stop or anything. She doesn't mind that my hair is blue. She's let me talk for half an hour about Misc Youth and what we're doing and why it's Important to have a youth organization specifically for queer youth. She's a lot better than she has been. Neither of us have really lost our tempers. There are just times when I'd love nothing more than to tell her to fuck off, I have important things to do.
I went over to Kait's last week to hang out and set things on fire. And I got to meet her coworker Dave, who is someone she never stops talking about. As it turns out, I know him from swing dancing, which was rather awkward. He walked in the door and the first thing he said was my old name. It was a little weird for the whole night, although he was pretty good about the whole name thing. He totally had no idea I was trans, although I daresay he knows now.
Drag show last night. We were competing with Stampede, and lost horribly. There were, at most, about eight people in the audience if you didn't include the kings. Still, we put on a good show for those who actually showed up, and I gave them free candy. I can't stand the Stampede. ugh. Can't wait till it's over.
Mom's gone to go rent a car. Excuse me, I must frolic in the wonderfulness that is my empty house.

Life's been quiet recently. Hard for it not to be, really, what with me still being unemployed. I'm not sure if there's anything I can do about that. I know the job market is pretty dead, and that it takes forever sometimes for people to call you back for interviews and the like. Still, the lack of money and activity is making me a little anxious at at times. My original plan was to take August off just to relax, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to do that anymore. I've had plenty of relaxing. It would be nice to save up a little bit of money.
So I've been lazing around, being slothful. Reading lots of books, cuddling the cat, starting a handful of projects that I work on sporadically. It's weird, but I never feel as motivated in my art when I'm not in school. As soon as I have a ton of school projects that I absolutely need to get done, all I want to do is work on projects that have nothing to do with school. My brain, it is strange sometimes.
My parents keep making hints that I ought to apply again at Superstore. Which I'm sure I will, once I get back from Vancouver. I'm really excited about this trip. I haven't left the city in I don't know how long, and road trips are awesome. I'm pretty sure that they're even awesomer when they're with cool people who aren't my parents and who aren't going to play Christian music.
Leaving the city will probably help prevent me from panicking too much about the Homo Hop. Realize that this is the first event that I have ever organized, and even thought I'm organizing with the help of two wonderful people, sometimes I feel completely unprepared. I've started having dreams about it. Kind of lame, even if they aren't bad dreams.
Busy day today. I woke up at seven for the first time in weeks, which was sort of miraculous. Helped Red move a little bit until they started moving furniture and then ran off to Laura's for a Homo Hop planning meeting. And to make faces at Koda, who is ridiculously cute, ohgod, and likes to stare blankly at fauxhawks and chew on fingers. Fortunately not my fingers. Jen and I ended up both wearing plaid shorts, which was amusing. Then I ran home to relax for a bit before Kait picked me up and we went off to the parent's place for steaks.
Mmm...steaks...
I finally got to officially meet Clare in real life and not online today. She's super nice and the accent is cute. Kind of grateful that I like her, because otherwise the ride to Vancouver would be really interesting, and not in a good way. She and Kait ran off to go see Peaches, and I ended up spending most of the evening hanging out with Kait's parents, Shannon and Julian. Which involved watching the kitten get stuck in the tree twice, and lots of talking. I'm not sure if I've ever enjoyed hanging out with a friend's parents before. Even with Caro's mom, there was always a little bit of...distance. I always felt a little awkward.
I've been on T for about a month and a half now. I am ever so slightly hairier, and my appetite is insane. Makes me feel vaguely hobbit-ish. Apparently Grannie has figured out I'm trans (due, no doubt, to my facebook profile where I make no attempt to hide anything), and seems to be quite ok with it. Which is amazing, and relieving. My parents still don't know I'm on T. I really ought to tell them and soon.

Rocky Horror was fun. For the first time, ever, I didn't go in costume, or bring any sort of props. My stomach's been bugging me again, although it's not bad right now, and I was feeling lazy and irritable right before I left, so I just shoved my knitting and binder in my backpack and went of to Trevor's. I don't think I can handle being in a corset anymore, at least, not one that emphasizes the fact that I have tits. I might try to figure out how to make a man-corset by March, one I can bind in. (Trevor was relieved that he didn't have to see me running around in my underwear all night. I admit, it would have been amusing just to see his reaction to my outfit, if I'd have been able to force myself into it). Also, I've lost my garters, which is rather annoying.

Lazed around for most of yesterday, watching Star Wars (Episode IV) at the Tranny Shack. Man, I haven't seen that movie in ages. Sara suggested that a group of us go as over-sized Jawas to the Comicon in April, which would be pretty wicked, and not that hard to do. Then I went home, ate actual food, and went out to buy groceries from T&T.

Got a message from Trevor today. He's back in the hospital. He was feeling pretty shitty yesterday, and said he might go to the Foothills to see if they could do anything. I'm a little less worried than last time, but I had no idea what was going on, what was wrong, or when he'd see a doctor. At least now I know he's in a bed, and should be on some pain meds. And if he isn't, I'm going to go kick some hospital staff ass, because they shouldn't fucking leave my boy in pain. *growl*

Show on Thursday. I'm excited and somewhat dreading it. It should be good, though.

It's been two years since I started questioning my gender. Two years. It seems longer, somehow. I'm a lot more comfortable in my skin than I was then, but it's taken pretty much all of those two years to get me there. I've finally come to the conclusion that I'm really, really not actually that fine not passing as male. I was afraid that, since my gender identity is pretty fluid, maybe I would regret transitioning because what if I looked male but started feeling less than male? Could I deal with that?

Apparently, the answer was yes. Everything that I am or was afraid of about transitioning doesn't seem as important now. I know most of it is just the little voice in the back of my head telling me that I'll never be masculine enough to pass as male. Since I already can pass as male a lot of the time, I know that's a lie.

I think it's kind of funny that I'm off to go dye my hair pink now.

Also, do I really have to be hungry all the time? Seriously, what's going to happen when I start T? I'm never going to stop eating.

So today I cleaned out almost the rest of my girly clothes. It was weird, because I felt a pang throwing some of them on the floor. I liked being a girl, sometimes. I liked being able to be pretty, but even as I admit that I know that I can't do it anymore. Summer seems to worsen my relationship with my body. Maybe it's the heat, and the fact that I can't hide under layers of clothing as easily as in winter. Maybe it's because my parents are back and throwing terms at me like 'she' and 'young lady.' I had to get into a fight with them to get them to call me by my chosen name. Apparently it was too much to assume that they'd understand I want to be called Jasper after I legally changed my name to Jasper and then got all my friends and coworkers to call me by that name. Apparently I still needed to tell them to call me Jasper because they couldn't read my mind, now could they?
It was rather frustrating.
Today Dad mentioned when Ben and Amanda start having kids. He talked about me being an aunt. I don't want to be an aunt! And I don't mean that in the way that I don't want my brother to have kids, 'cause that'd be kind of sweet. I just - Auntie Jasper? It's rather nauseating. I'd love to be a crazy uncle, or something. But sometimes I wonder if they'll even want me near the kids.

Sorry, self-pity moment there.


It's hard, with the parents here. I mean, it's easier in some ways - they make suppers and help clean and it's sometimes nice to not be the only person in the house for hours at a time. But it's also hard. I liked being independent. I liked not getting nagged at every day. I liked having the majority of the people I talk to use the right pronouns, and the right name, and just - you know, understand. That's kind of sweet. I'm dreading Tuesday, and the rest of the next week and a half or so. I haven't seen most of the relatives that are coming in about five years. I'm not who I was five years ago. Hell, I'm not even who I was one year ago. I don't want to have to explain myself to people. I don't want to be the scandal of the wedding. I don't want to be surrounded by people who call me she and ben's sister and sharon's daughter and oh, what a nice young woman you've turned out to be! Because then I might have to go throw up on someone and that won't be pretty. I already feel on edge as it is. The wedding isn't going to make anything better.

Sometimes it's hard being the black sheep in the family.

So, uh, anyone want to hang out sometime? I need contact with the real world like whoa.

Talked to my parents today. Like, Talk with a capital T. I needed to ask them if Dom could stay here longer until he gets back on his feet, and just tell them more about Dom's situation so they actually know what's going on. No clear answers as of yet, considering how big a decision this is. Dad actually used male pronouns while talking about him. w00t. I totally didn't expect that. I feel like they understand now, and that's a good thing. Like whoa.
Also managed to talk a bit about my trans-ness. Just reiterating how I came out to myself, and Mom was all like 'we don't really understand this, and it's really new,' but I get the feeling they're trying really hard anyway and that fucking rocks. I feel really lucky, and grateful, to have the parents that I do. Despite the complete and utter Christianity and the differences we have. I've sort of reconciled with that anyway. I know that's just who they are, and I can't ask them to change just because they annoy me sometimes.

This is going to turn into a rant. I'm not cutting it, because I'm tired of worrying about offending people. If you don't want to read it, then don't. I also use the word 'fuck' a lot. Deal.

I wish I were braver. I wish there wasn't a fucking need to sit everyone I know down and explain everything before people start using the right fucking pronouns. I'm tired of coming out, and I haven't even done a lot of it. I just feel like I shouldn't have to. Why do I have to explain myself? Why do I have to limit myself to words, labels? Why do people have to assume? I'm just so fucking frustrated at everything right now. I wish there was a way that everyone could just know in a great pile of group-knowingness. I wish I knew the words to say. I wish it wasn't so fucking complicated.
I hate being in the middle. I hate being afraid of what people think, and sure, what should I care? But we can say all we like about how we're not afraid of what people think; at the end of the day we still are. And I can know without a shadow of a doubt that I have nothing to be afraid of and everyone's going to be fine about it and probably give me hugs or whatever. Offer more people I can talk to who've gone through the same thing. (What am I supposed to say to them? How would that not be ten sorts of awkward? ['so...what about that trans-ness...es...?']) But I'll still be afraid to bring it up, to correct them or whatever. It doesn't matter.
I'm still not used to even saying anything anyway. I only found out in freaking January. It took me over a year to admit I like girls. Granted I wasn't in the most accepting environment at the time, but still. I think I've done pretty well in the whole 'not going completely stark raving mad' department.
ugh. I can't think straight anymore.
I want to do something. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being afraid.

My computer is stupid and freezes all the time. Mom doesn't understand me, which sounds all emo teenager-ish, but is actually true. I don't know where I fit in this puzzle-piece world anymore. Labels are stupid. I'm sort of envious of Mom to have the world figured out in neat boxes, but how lame, how boring, how unrealistic. Today I went to the registry to sign my name change form. Soon I'll be Jasper Dion instead of what I was before. Not that I know what that was. Personalities are just a bunch of words floating around an indescribable abstract of 'this is who I am' except I've lost that, somewhere along this process of finding myself. All I know is I miss singing and that I like drag. Maybe they'll be clues that will solve the mystery. I don't want to be who I was, but I hate the awkward and the in-between. I hate the descrepancy between my name and my presentation and why the hell do employers need to know M or F anyway? I need a job. Soon I'll be paying for my own schooling and that scares me. I want to move out but know I can't.

So. Fake Mustache last night. Amature drag king contest, which I did not win, though I'm strangely not disappointed about that. Apparently I'm getting to become a better loser, which is good to know. I was fabulous anyway. Plus I got to dance with Red. :D
I feel sort of strange right now, which probably has more to do with a lack of adequate sleep and food than anything else. I've eaten two things since yesterday at 5ish pm and they were a granola bar and an apple turnover. I'm strangely not hungry/in the mood for eating at the moment. And yeah, woke up at five this morning because my legs hurt. :( I'm not sure if they were cramping because I was an ass and didn't stretch before or after dancing, or if they were growing pains. They felt more like growing pains than anything else, but I can't still be growing. Didn't go back to sleep until 6. >.<
I want to do something. I'm tired of being so afraid of what people think, and losing approval, that I sit around and mope and do nothing. I am tired of this. I'm tired of having four names and not knowing which one I actually want. I'm tired of looking at myself in the mirror and seeing 'girl.' I want to hit something, hard, and watch it shatter. I want to change.
And, damnit, I think I will.
I swear this livejournal never used to be so angsty.

I just sent the letter to my parents where I tell them almost everything. Trans-stuff and sexuality. I actually feel sort of calm right now. I wonder when they'll get it.