lienne: A happy, whirring cartoon chainsaw. (emotion: gleeful (perhaps deranged))
Yesterday I bound my chest for the first time that wasn't in a sex shop changeroom.

I can't even describe how awesome it was to see that silhouette in the mirror. For some reason I felt more feminine than I have in months, because I'm beginning to suspect my brain is actually not allowed to make any sense, but mainly I felt fucking GREAT.

Also, someday I should come up with a list of all the ways I have self-described my gender and/or sexuality. I'm pretty sure the geekiest is IOR, but possibly the awesomest is "turbo-charged romance machine".
lienne: A happy, whirring cartoon chainsaw. (emotion: gleeful (perhaps deranged))
Yesterday, I went out shoe shopping with Dad!

For those of you just tuning in, Dad is a long-distance runner. So he gets all these coupons. This one was 30% off any single purchase at the Running Room—a store for running-related stuff like ridiculous aerodynamic shorts and technical fabric shirts that wick away sweat and make you stink like nothing else and, of course, shoes. Running shoes. Real running shoes designed to take you comfortably through a marathon.

I am now the proud owner of a pair of deliciously comfortable men's Asics that I hope will last me through several more years of long walks.

Dad wanted to go to a store he'd never visited before so that nobody he knew would see him buying men's shoes for his daughter, but it was a complete non-issue. The store employee spent a little time figuring out what size I was in men's shoes (eight and a half or nine), and that was that. No trouble, no fuss. *draws hearts on her in retrospect*
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
Coming out as genderqueer to Dad, round one: Total Noncomprehension

"So you're a lesbian now? You're not into guys anymore? Is that it?"

Round two: Bad Jokes

DAD: *standing in the doorway, preventing the door from being closed to maintain the temperature gradient between air-conditioned bedroom and hot, muggy apartment*
PYTH: Are you in or out?
DAD: Both! I'm doorqueer. I'm in and out.
PYTH: *eyeroll*

Round three: Still Doesn't Get It

Clothes shopping during which the words "but that's the men's section" are uttered. Subsequent long, irrelevant discussion of an intersex individual whose victory in a women's sporting event was challenged, during which all attempts to bring up the massive differences between sex and gender are met with the word "Whatever".

Round four: Desperate Measures

PYTH: Suppose for the sake of argument I was just straight-up transsexual. Would you support that?
DAD: What do you mean, support it?
PYTH: I mean would you not give me this much shit over it.
DAD: Do you want to be transsexual?
PYTH: No.

Round five: And Still, No Dice

DAD: So when are you a woman and when are you a man, then?
PYTH: Well, lately I've been feeling more masculine, but I think that's because people keep gendering me as strictly female and it kind of grates.
DAD: Maybe we should get you pink sheets.
PYTH: ...
DAD: And a nice, cuddly, pink teddybear.
PYTH: I might actually start stuffing socks down my pants at that point.
BOTH: *laugh*
NOTHING: *is resolved*

Intermission

PYTH: I think if I had to put it as simply as possible, I'd say I resent being told I'm a woman in a way that means I cannot also be a man.

He didn't respond to that one. It's not like things are completely weird between us now, but I find it frustrating to have to explain this over and over again.

hmmmmmm

Feb. 10th, 2010 05:49 pm
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I should do some more thinky about gender identity.

*looks up the relevant tag*





Holy shitcakes, has it really been a whole year?

Well. Guess this thing had staying power after all.

I never really doubted that. The more I thought about it in the early days around that post, the more I realized it really has been here all along.

So about that thinky, then. )

This post was originally going to be about how I think my perception of my gender identity is moving towards more fluidity as time passes, and also how I still want to change my middle name to something dudely, but I think I like it better the way it actually turned out.

Also, holy shitcakes, it's been a year.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
  • My dad came back from his six-week trip to China! He is on the phone telling my uncle hilarious stories about it.
  • Last night I dreamed in epic sci-fi. That's not really out of the ordinary. It was pretty sweet, though; first I was Temperance Brennan rescuing an alien civilization from... something... and then I was an annoying twelve-year-old boy with blue eyes setting up (well, more like taking over) an expedition to rescue a suspiciously similar alien civilization from a suspiciously similar thing.

    As a twelve-year-old boy I also had psychic powers, specifically the ability to use other people's thoughts to change the world. That sounds vague and bizarre, and it really is; in the dream I knew that my powers worked under a perfectly logical set of rules, but I had no idea what they were. I pretty much played it by ear. I remember locating the aliens' planet using a note one of them had written saying they were all doomed because nobody was coming to their rescue, and I remember holding hands with two or three people-- also, I think, twelve-year-old boys-- who were part of an organization that I think was trying to make money off rescuing the aliens.

    I used their thoughts to translocate the whole group of us into orbit, build an entire functioning spaceship around us with the power of my mind, and set us on course for the alien planet. Then I woke up.

    No, I have no idea what the hell we were rescuing the aliens from. It didn't seem important.

    Oh, and I also remember demanding payment-- I pointed to one of the guys with the organization and said I wanted to be paid exactly the amount of money he, personally, had spent on this endeavour. He laughed and said he hadn't spent any money yet. My response? "Well, that's not very poetic."
  • I'm still offering two thousand icons to anybody who gets me a STARFIGHTER shirt! I promise I'll shut up about that eventually.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
Have some thinky!

May contain incoherence. )

For a metaphor I came up with after I sat down to write the post, that buffet thing holds up pretty well. I'm proud.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
If you woke up tomorrow and you were the Doctor, what would you wear?

All men's clothes. Big stompy boots (short for warm weather, tall for cold), comfy jeans, brightly coloured T-shirts with nonsensical slogans, an assortment of optional trenchcoats, and a hat with floppy bunny ears. (I can forgo the hat on the rare occasion when I need people to take me seriously.)

Mismatched socks go without saying, because I already do that every time I wear socks in colours other than white.

Oh, and I would start braiding my hair, 'cause maybe if I was the Doctor I'd be less lazy about my appearance.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I'm thinking of changing my middle name to something obviously male, with the same initial as my current middle name.

It would reflect the masculine aspect of my identity really well, because it's sort of like a middle name: always there but only visible when I choose to display it.

Currently my plan is to wait a year and then go ahead with it if I still want to. I think that's a pretty good benchmark for how serious I am about the change.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
1. Post about something that made you happy today.

2. Repeat for eight days.

3. Tag eight people to do the same.


Today, what makes me happy is being called "mister" in passing. :D

And I tag [livejournal.com profile] ultramarine. I was planning to tag you long before I knew what today's happy was, U. This is actually just an awesome coincidence. *beamy face*

If today's entry bears a suspicious resemblance to yesterday's, that's because I am really not happy about all that much lately. D:
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
Tagged by [livejournal.com profile] trelali

1. Post about something that made you happy today.

2. Repeat for eight days.

3. Tag eight people to do the same.


The thing that made me happiest today was [livejournal.com profile] bitter_crimson asking me my pronoun preference.

*beams all over everything*

And I think how I'll do this is tagging one person each day. So today, I tag [livejournal.com profile] cazrolime!
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I dreamed I was a man-- I mean, physically.

That wasn't the bizarre part.

No, the bizarre part came after that. )

Some effort has been made to preserve the pure nonsensicality of the original, but even just remembering it in order to tell the story, my brain forces some semblance of coherency onto it as a self-defense mechanism. I completely omitted the long, detailed chase scene in search of CGB before the start of the retelling, for example. It made no sense in the very literal way where two consecutive moments did not necessarily happen in the same place or concern the same objects at all.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
Okay, so I've totally nixed the "daily stairs" goal. Goodbye, daily stairs. You were invigorating, but hell on my knees.

It has been replaced with a training schedule that is, according to my dad, the most efficient possible way to get in shape. Basically, it goes like this: divide the week into fourteen half-days. Exercise four times a week, in two heavy sessions and two light. A heavy session should be followed by three rest periods; a light session should be followed by two. As long as you can arrange your schedule around that regimen, you're golden.

Kicking January's ass didn't go as well as I hoped it would, but it wasn't a total flop, either. February almost got the jump on me, but I'm in the process of fixing my sleep schedule and I'm starting light therapy. We'll see.

Daily productivity? Oh baby am I ever productive. Mostly fic for the Gundam 00 anonymous kink meme. Don't hold your breath for me to publicly own up to which fics I've written over there; I respect the institution of anonymity too much to do that.

Oh, and I've been making icons. Ten guesses for what fandom and the first nine don't count.



In other news, I did a meme. A gender roles meme.

Cut for quiz result. )

That was my second result; the first time through, I got a clear answer of "feminine". This is bullshit. Most of the traits that weighted my initial result in favour of womanhood are either results of my depression, side effects of being a nice person, or both. Because only men can be assholes, right? *facepalm*

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