Technical Difficulties III

I haven't really attended to this blog for a couple of days, which also means I haven't been reading others' blogs as well. Imagine my surprise when I logged in a few minutes ago and discovered that I'm not following ANY blogs. None. Where have they all gone? Apparently I'm not the only one this has happened to, but Google don't seem to know anything about it. "AGGGHHH!" as Charlie Brown has said many times.

The sad part of it is, I don't remember all of the URLs for all these blogs. Some of them are fairly distinctive, or otherwise memorable. Reassembling my list will take some time.

While I was typing this, I heard a most blood-curdling scream from outside. It was short and shrill, but repeated itself, over and over. Youtube tells me it is the sound of a fox crying. City girls like me don't know anything about these wild creatures. Close your eyes and listen to this and tell me it doesn't scare you shitless.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zk1mAd77Hr4

EDIT: Now my Reading List is back, as though it never left. Stupid shit indeed.

Putting the Band Back Together

Check out the link in the title! There's a new song/video from Soundgarden. They have a double album coming out later this week. I used to marvel at the way the "old folks" acted when they heard the Beatles (or some other act) were reuniting. Now I understand. I heard the song on the radio last night riding into work, and it's like the band never broke up. I do not "Squee!", but if I did, this is something that would evoke it.

Now if only Robert Plant would come down off the horse and get back with the lads from Led Zeppelin...

Was It Something I Said?

Sometime during the last week I lost a follower. I don't know who it was. Most of my admittedly small coterie never comment on anything I write here, so I don't know most of them. I guess I haven't done enough to get to know my audience.

My last few posts have, admittedly, had little or nothing to do with being trans. I apologize if my writing doesn't interest anyone, but there's a lot going on, and my transition isn't, so please, bear with me.

On a more positive note, I broke down and treated myself to a little shopping. During a break at work last night, I popped online and bought this:

http://www.alittletouchofmagick.com/product_info.php?products_id=3413

I've been looking at their posts on Facebook the last couple of months, and I like their stuff. This item appeared on Friday, and I got myself through the weekend by thinking about how I could snap it up after I was paid again. Maybe I'll get to wear it out sometime.

I Get It! I Get It!

I don't eat Chinese a lot, but I always make a point to eat a fortune cookie after the meal. Three or four years ago, I cracked open a cookie and out popped the following message:

"You will make many changes before settling satisfactorily."

I was just coming around to the idea of being trans, and words like these were momentous. I pinned the fortune to a bulletin board in my apartment.

This afternoon, we had Chinese takeout for the first time in a couple of months. I opened my fortune cookie, and what was printed on the fortune cookie, but the exact same message. If I believed in a higher power, I'd wonder if they were trying to get me back on track. If that were the case, I'd tell them, "I'm working on it. Now leave me alone."

Ma'am

I went for a walk today. It was cold, but it's been like that all week. I've gone a little stir-crazy the last couple of days. I got my paycheck today, so I had a little money in my pocket, and decided to run out to the store and pick up a couple of things.

I bundled up: hoodie and a big coat, over jeans and a tee. Once I got outside, I flipped up the hoodie hood, and pulled on a pair of gloves. The gloves are kind of cool. The fingers are trimmed off at the first knuckle, and there's a mitten section that's stuck the back of the hand. If it gets too cold, the mitten sections can be flipped forward over the fingertips and snugged into place. I don't think my outfit was too feminine, but what do I know?

I walked the couple of blocks out of the neighborhood, toward Olde Town. I started to walk along the river, but I thought better of that when I got a taste of the wind. Yikes! Turned down Court Street and hurried over to High, where there's a Dollar General. I went in to get a bag of mints and some razors, but ended up with a couple of paperback books. While I was looking over the book rack, a gentleman edged past me and said, "Excuse me, ma'am." I still had my hood up, and from the back, I can only imagine what I looked like. I mumbled out something that was meant to sound like "Certainly" and he went past.

A few minutes later, I got in line behind the guy to check out. He looked back for a second, saw me, and this weird look passed over his face. Then he turned around, and nothing more was said.

Let It Snow...Not!

The blogosphere has been alive the last couple of days with writings about the nor'easter which churned up the East Coast the last couple of days. Other places got anywhere from three inches to a couple of feet of snow. Here, we got maybe an inch, and as of 0600 this morning, it's hard to tell that it snowed. There are patches and clumps of whiteness in areas that are alee, but most of what fell yesterday appears to be gone, at least around my job. There might be some stuff sticking around when I get home, seeing as it's closer to the river. Time will tell.

I'm going to walkabout the neighborhood after I get home. I'll take my camera. I was hoping there'd be more snow for photographic purposes. We'll see.

Thank you for your consideration, I think

I took a walk through Olde Towne this afternoon. I had to drop a couple of pieces into the mail (model parts for friends in England and Wales), and decided to trek through the neighborhood on the way home. I spotted this sign in front of a Baptist church/private school I attended when I was a child.

Their spelling is atrocious, but I suppose it's the thought that counts.

News, Part Two

I almost forgot: Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize. That's an accomplishment in itself, but I really wish they'd waited until he actually accomplished something important, like, i don't know, ending the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan, or brokering a lasting peace in the Middle East. Something momentous like that. It's like they've given the award in anticipation of things to come. He called the award "a call to action", and it is. Get your ass in gear, Mr. President! Show me I didn't vote for you for nothing.

News

None from me, sorry. It just occurred to me that it's been weeks since I commented on anything that's happened out in the world. I did a little blurb when Patrick Swayze died, but nothing else.



I wrote to my friend Chrissie weeks ago asking about the UK's United Healthcare system. I wanted something to compare to when I wrote about the ongoing debate here in the States about the proposed reforms to our healthcare system. I never got around to writing the piece, and the big Senate vote is supposed to take place tomorrow. I hope they pass a plan that includes a public option, but I'm not holding my breath.



Supposedly different bills are making their way through both houses of Congress regarding ENDA, but I haven't heard anything new on that front. To be completely honest, I'd rather have ENDA than public healthcare, but the public option would make my future life easier in the event that ENDA passes.



The President talked to the HRC this past weekend, but once again, he made no promises. I'm beginning to wonder what I saw in that man...



Roman Polanski is currently sitting in jail waiting to hear if he'll be extradited to the US. At first, I was in the "Free Polanski" crowd, but then I went back and researched his case. The whole incident makes my skin crawl. It makes me feel vaguely skeezy because I enjoyed some of his movies. Now I hope they throw him down a hole he can never crawl out of.



There's a story in the latest issue of Esquire about the ongoing story of John Demjanjuk. Mr. Demjanjuk is a Ukrainian immigrant who was a German POW during WWII, and may or may not have worked as a collaborator at one of the German death camps. His arrest in the 80s made international headlines, because the authorities said he was "Ivan the Terrible", a camp guard at Treblinka who inflicted all manner of horrors against the people who were being herded into the gas chambers. He was extradited to Israel, where the high profile trial found him guilty, convicted him and sentenced him to death by hanging. Then a piece of evidence appeared that proved conclusively that he wasn't at Treblinka at all, and he went free. Now he's sitting in a prison in Germany, awaiting trial as an accessory to the deaths of 27,900 people at Sobibor, where he may or may not have been one of the Wachmanner, some sort of a collaborator. He's 89, and his health is failing. He, I think, should go free.

AAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

I just have a few things I need to get off my chest.

A trash can is not an ashtray.

A potted plant is not an ashtray.

A bathtub is not a toilet.

Thank you.

Attack of the Millipedes!

I was going to write something about my frustration at my inability to get out and about en femme, but I lost almost the entire train of thought when I spotted a millipede crawling out from under the desk. Then another, and another. And...

For those who don't know them, millipedes are little multi-legged creepy crawlies distantly related to centipedes. Gods, that sounded really technical, didn't it? I first spotted the little guys about a month ago. They're harmless, and only grow to be an inch or two long, but they're brown or black, and have dozens of legs, and wavy antennae, and this IS a hotel. I had a guest get all postal with me the other morning because he saw *GASP* a moth. I don't personally have problem with the little buggers. They're actually kinda cute, in a geeky way. But I can just see some guest going completely batshit crazy from seeing one in their bathroom, or on their bed.

Anyway, enough about work. I'll come back to this when my thoughts are a little more collected.

Incidentally, this is my 100th post to this blog.

Hello, Moon

Here I go, moaning about my camera again. There's a full moon tonight. I've tried to take photos of the moon nearly every cycle for the last year or so. The moon in the header tonight was shot with my Dad's Olympus D-550. It's just an empty circle, utterly featureless. Maybe it's the angle, but previous photos I've taken of the moon show shadows, even if only faintly.

On the other hand, empty is about how I feel right now, so I suppose it's wholly appropriate.

Bachelorette Party?

This weekend, the hotel is host to two wedding parties. When I came on at 2300, I observed a group of young women heading out as though to a club. They were dressed in outfits out of Flashdance - over-sized tees with tights or leggings, legwarmers and heels, except that the clothes were all in loud dayglo colors. One girl was wearing a "naughty" bride costume, sort of like the stripper version of Madonna's old "Like a Virgin" getup. I was checking in another couple when the young women left. I didn't say anything, but I did raise and eyebrow. The wife said, "Looks like they're going to a bachelorette party."

If you say so.

Do bachelorette parties have themes now?

Mom Confesses to Suffocating Son

The title above is a hotlink to the news story.

There are days when I wake up feeling numb. That's not as often as it used to be, but it still happens. Then I read a new story like this one, and I get bombarded with so much emotion that I wish I could feel numb. This one fills me with anguish and rage. This woman killed her own child because she "didn't want him to grow up with no one caring about him." WTF?

Gah! I just want to wrap my fingers around her neck and... See what I'm talking about? Between news like this, the ongoing flaps about torture, DADT and the little petty crap which makes up my own day-to-day existence, I'm liable to pop. I need something to lighten my mood.

Like the E-Trade "Shankapotamus" commercial. Or the clip from The View where Whoopi called Glenn Beck a "lying sack of dog mess". Maybe the video clip from CPAC showing the bouncing Rush. I'm smiling already.

Words and Music: Another Rant

Here's another bit that's been stewing for a couple of years.

It doesn't seem like so long ago, that women were ranting about how they were referenced in pop music, especially in R & B and hip hop. There was much made of the terms "bitch" and "ho". Sometime after, women sort of reclaimed the word "bitch", and made of it a badge of honor. Witness Meredith Brooks' "I'm a Bitch". "Ho" on the other hand, never lost its cachet as a derogatory term, and rightly so. After a while, I didn't hear that one so much. Maybe it's still out there, but I haven't heard it much lately.

A couple of years ago, I started listening to pop radio again after about a decade of only paying attention to rock stations. I continued to follow certain artists, but I ignored most of the rest of it. I started to hear another word that rankled me: "shorty".

I think I first heard it in a song by Sean Paul. Then it came up in an Akon piece. Next thing I knew, I heard it everywhere, even in conversation. That word drives me to distraction. It popped up in my consciousness again the other day via a featured performer in a Lady Gaga song. AAUUGGHH!!

Here's Where I Go Off

I've been at this blog a little over five months now. I've tried to stick to my declared subject matter, but I occasionally wander off the path. This is a warning, to let y'all know that such detours may become a regular occurrence.

I've been holding material back for years. This is what I get for not writing for so long. I open the word-hoard, and stuff starts spilling out. There was a guest piece on Coilhouse last week about blogging. I haven't taken all of the authors ideas to heart, but he did give me some ideas.

One bit I'm working on is an essay which has been festering for years. I originally started writing it as a stand-up/performance art bit, but I never quite got 'round to learning the piano.

Dressing Up: A Rant

People who know me know that I live in jeans and tee shirts. Those are my comfort clothes, and I have never grown out of them. That said, I do like to dress up. Sometimes I do it for special occasions. Other times, as this past Saturday, I do it just because I can. Maybe it's because of my own predilection for fancy dress, but I find that I am prejudiced against people who refuse to dress up when the social occasion calls for it.

In the past, when I would go out with a woman, we would only very rarely do anything that required fancy dress. We'd eat at casual restaurants, or go out to assorted nightclubs. The dress code (if indeed there was one) was casual. I'd usually wear jeans, but I always wore a button-down shirt. ALWAYS. I'm a big one for trying to coordinate outfits. A couple need not dress exactly alike, but they should at least dress complimentary to one another.

Working a hotel on the weekends, I see all kinds of people coming from bars or clubs late at night. It never ceases to amaze me how some "gentlemen" dress to go out of doors. All the time, I see women dressed to the nines: dress, heels, bling, and scent of some sort. Invariably, their male companions are wearing jeans and tee shirts. It kills me inside. Just this morning I checked in a couple who were coming from a Sunday night out. She was wearing club wear: a tight vest over a tight tank with "formal shorts". Naturally she was wearing pointy-toed pumps with stiletto heels, and she had rings on every finger, multiple ear piercings and bangles on both wrists. Her friend wore baggy jeans with a tee and a ball cap. *Sigh.* I wanted to say something, but I bit my tongue.

Because I Said Something

In my last post I bitched and moaned about not getting off to see the airshow at Langley next weekend. We've been petsitting for my dad the last week, and Saturday afternoon I was out walking the dog, when I heard the unmistakable roar of piston aircraft engines, approaching fast from the southeast. I looked up just in time to see a B-25 Mitchell

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B-25_Mitchell

flying wingtip to wingtip with a P-51 Mustang

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/P-51_Mustang

They were flying really low, and when they were directly overhead, I could feel the rumble of the engines deep in my chest. I watched them from the moment they appeared over the roof of my building until they disappeared over the horizon. I see and hear jets all the time, but there's something primal about the sounds of the old machines. It also warms my heart when I think about the love and pride of the people who keep them in the air.

I'm still going to be miffed if I can't go next weekend, but I've been partially mollified.

Addendum: I completely forgot to mention that I talked to my supervisor on Monday, and we reworked the schedule so I'll be able to go. I've also managed to secure a camera for the weekend, so I'll be able to take (and share) pictures! I guess a girl can get a break.

Um, What Are We Supposed to Say?

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/4995787/Euro-chiefs-ban-Miss-and-Mrs.html

I'm all for eliminating the appearance of gender-based prejudice, but this is ridiculous.

Thanks to my friend Damian for pointing this out.

Work Weirdness

I can't recall if I've posted anything here about my work, at least recently, but I need to vent a bit. I'm a working schlub in the hotel business, and the last month at my hotel has been interesting, in the ancient Chinese sense of the word*. A month ago, it was announced that the current general manager was no longer with the company. Actually, it was phrased, "I'm sure you all know by now that so-and-so is no longer your manager." As it happened, no one had been told at that point, so it was like corporate dropped a bomb into the middle of our staff meeting. A moment later, we were introduced to our new GM, and all hell broke loose.

The new GM seems nice, but she's a stickler for rules and regs and brand standards. The previous manager played things a little looser, and being forced to comply to previously unknown standards has been a little jarring. She warned us at that first meeting that she was going to fire some people, and she has. I doubt we've seen the last to go.

She likes to have mandatory attendance staff meetings: we've got three scheduled in the next three weeks. One's in the morning, shortly after I would get off, so my being there won't be any problem, but the other two are scheduled for 1700, and I've got no reliable transportation in the afternoons, what with my brother working at the Beach. I'll work something out.

Last week, we started handing out little bags of jelly beans to the VIP members of our frequent stay program. I haven't poached any of them, but apparently someone has. There's a notice posted in the office that anyone caught taking them or eating them will be terminated with prejudice. They must be magickal jelly beans, or else they're sehr expensive.

Anyway, before this post commenced, I received a phone call at work. I answered the phone within the required three rings, took a breath, and launched into the official telephone greeting, "It's my pleasure to serve you here at the blank blank, this is Jaye. How may I assist you?"

I was asked to repeat myself, as the caller, a man, said he didn't hear a word of what I said. I took a breath, and repeated the greeting. The caller again said he didn't hear me, and demanded to speak to a manager. This was midnight, and there's no manager on hand other than myself. I said so, and assured the gentleman that I could assist him however he needed. He then proceeded to tell me that I couldn't talk to him like that, and asked for my name. I told him, "My name is Jaye," and he said, "No, my name is Jay, what's your name?" I hung up.

That's my life on the job these nights. And I was going to try to come out at work again. *SIGH*

* - I almost forgot, the curse "May you live in interesting times." is a (relatively) modern invention.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/May_you_live_in_interesting_times