Further Porch Musings, etc.

Firstly, I came up with a much more clever name for this blog than a simple Jim Carroll reference. This is probably a little offensive. If anyone reads this (I don't think anyone does) and feels like I'm doing wrong by co-opting a womanist phrase for my not-a-woman needs, let me know. I don't want to offend anyone who doesn't deserve to be offended.

I'm back in Portland these days, with little to do and little money to do it with. I went down to Powell's today for the first time in a while and bought a copy of A Moveable Feast for two fifty. It's pretty good, just Hemingway talking about all of his popular friends. Hemingway was kind of the Perez Hilton of his day.

I'm glad, in a way, that I'm doing nothing but mulling over my identity and reading this summer. It's given me some good insights, and insight is a luxury I'd clearly take over good food or going to shows all the time. It just occured to me today, again when I was at my thinking spot (I'm basically Winnie the Pooh), that there's no need for me to be terribly angst-ridden about being trans. I've done so much fretting and analyzing and worrying what people will think, but how much is it really necessary? Other people will probably make it hard enough for me; why do I have to make it hard for myself? What if I just tell everyone that I'd prefer to be called Russell and have male pronouns applied to me, without apology? It's kind of a wild thought. No expectations, no Life Shaking Decision, no crying, no therapy, not tracing things back to childhood. People change thier names all the time; why not throw some pronouns in just for kicks? Even if I'm not sure about hormones or surgery (translate: not sure where I would get the money for hormones or surgery) what's the harm in a nickname? Hmm.

Jealous Twin

So this is the inaugural blog post for my blog about being a transdude. I've been wasting a lot of time recently watching all the ftm vlogs on youtube, and thought, well that seems like a good idea, to detail one's transition in a structured and slightly public way. But I don't have a camera, so here I am on the more traditional blog.

A few things about me and my positon at the moment. I'm a pre-everything, pretty non-passing FTM on the verge of really going for it--the hormones, the name change, the boob amputation. And hopefully blogging will give me an outlet to a) explore in writing why and how I see myself getting through this, and b) maybe connect with and educate people who are going through a similar thing.

The more I think about it, the more I've always in some aspect considered myself a dude. Today I was having a nice cigarette on the back porch, a ritual that usually serves as a place for good revelations, and it occurred to me, I've always thought of my voice as being deeper than it actually is. When I'm turning things over in my head, I have this nice raspy tenor. And then, when I open my mouth, as they say, a yard of pink chiffon falls out. Or, at least, maybe a royal blue cashmere. Anyone want to swap?

Perhaps I'll leave it as this for now, and get into deeper issues in further posts. But for now, hello.