The wheel keeps turning
Aug. 17th, 2008 11:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_fantastic_ms_foxI haven't been writing here. It is because I'm afrid of becoming a boring person.
Or I'm afraid that I am a boring person and that other people will see it.
What do I mean by "a boring person?"
"Single-issue" maybe. Simple. Not much to say about my life.
When someone asks "what are you up to," the answer is short: "work."
Or "school."
Or "Queer shit."
Or is it because I've seen a lot of people answer like this, and I'm kinda scared. A few years back, being able to give an interesting answer was what defined people in my early-20s age group from our parents and their peers; our parents and their peers, who were always so interested in what we were doing, and had little to say for themselves.
The CFS business was and stupidly stressful in ways I could barely appreciate then. But it was interesting, dramatic even. I not only had a couse, I had buddies in the fight against a large underhanded enemy. It's the stuff of good stories.
Now? Now I'm just a student wrapping up her degree. And the CFS is still the CFS, a strange constant of uselessness in the rapidly-cycling world of student nonprofit administration. But the SFU undergrads are probably out; the grads, almost certainly. I'll tell you more as I know details. I mostly keep out of it though. That's the new board's job.
Transition? My body keeps changing; my ass keeps expanding. I adjust. The panic has died down. I look forward to getting back into a life where my gender remains relatively constant, yet sufficiently fluid within its spaces. And even others's perceptions of it slowly congeal, as I am less frequently mistaken for a teenage boy, and more often read as something else. I look forward to surgery. I finish electrolysis. I continue to date. I give up on online dating for the meatspace kind.
I volunteer for the Trans Alliance Society. And by "volunteer," I mean "I'm the Treasurer, and my job is to collect signatures to change the Human Rights Code in BC." This means that there were about two weeks between me leaving the executive of one non-profit and joining the executive of another.
(note: the TAS is meeting at 1pm on Saturday the 23rd, at the Raven Song Community Health Centre, just Sount of Ontario and Broadway)
And I'm finishing my gender studies diploma. And coordinating a discussion group.
(See? It's a lot of gendery shit. And Pride was just two weeks prior! Egads.)
Or I'm afraid that I am a boring person and that other people will see it.
What do I mean by "a boring person?"
"Single-issue" maybe. Simple. Not much to say about my life.
When someone asks "what are you up to," the answer is short: "work."
Or "school."
Or "Queer shit."
Or is it because I've seen a lot of people answer like this, and I'm kinda scared. A few years back, being able to give an interesting answer was what defined people in my early-20s age group from our parents and their peers; our parents and their peers, who were always so interested in what we were doing, and had little to say for themselves.
The CFS business was and stupidly stressful in ways I could barely appreciate then. But it was interesting, dramatic even. I not only had a couse, I had buddies in the fight against a large underhanded enemy. It's the stuff of good stories.
Now? Now I'm just a student wrapping up her degree. And the CFS is still the CFS, a strange constant of uselessness in the rapidly-cycling world of student nonprofit administration. But the SFU undergrads are probably out; the grads, almost certainly. I'll tell you more as I know details. I mostly keep out of it though. That's the new board's job.
Transition? My body keeps changing; my ass keeps expanding. I adjust. The panic has died down. I look forward to getting back into a life where my gender remains relatively constant, yet sufficiently fluid within its spaces. And even others's perceptions of it slowly congeal, as I am less frequently mistaken for a teenage boy, and more often read as something else. I look forward to surgery. I finish electrolysis. I continue to date. I give up on online dating for the meatspace kind.
I volunteer for the Trans Alliance Society. And by "volunteer," I mean "I'm the Treasurer, and my job is to collect signatures to change the Human Rights Code in BC." This means that there were about two weeks between me leaving the executive of one non-profit and joining the executive of another.
(note: the TAS is meeting at 1pm on Saturday the 23rd, at the Raven Song Community Health Centre, just Sount of Ontario and Broadway)
And I'm finishing my gender studies diploma. And coordinating a discussion group.
(See? It's a lot of gendery shit. And Pride was just two weeks prior! Egads.)
And while this gender/volunteer/trans stuff is interesting, I want other things in my life.
(But not so much enough to sellsword myself out as an anti-CFS consultant, as has been suggested)
So I get back into reading. I design a rules-lite RPG system for math-phobics. I rent documentaries on Rennaissance Italian Warfare and growing up in a Maoist Household in Vancouver. I read speculative fiction set in Vancouver. I dance a bit. I hit queer events (that aren't so trans-focused). I try to network-up a roomate.
I bicycle too. Today I tried to take Spinning Wheels (I guess that's her name?) to Main and 45th but I hit a big piece of glass. The tire went flat and I only noticed when it got bumpy. So I'm getting it fixed.
A bump. A disruption. A repair. Some learning. An alternate route. Returning to pick it up and ride it again.
The wheel keeps turning.