Capacitor for Work

I'm currently fifty six years old and not in great shape.  Today I did the following:

Emptied a book shelf.

After doing so, I felt worn out.  I was coated in sweat, and for a time I felt dizzy.  I told my roomie/bestie Linda that I didn't feel good.  But I'd rented a van, and only had it for a few hours, so we had to get moving.  

You see, dear reader, I'd agreed to take a bookshelf from one of my bosses, as he's moving out of state.  It didn't fit in my car, so I needed a van.  And I needed Linda's help, as it was not only big, but very heavy- good sturdy wood.  Sturdy HEAVY wood. 

 

So off to Port Matilda (a nearby town) with the van, with Linda driving.  We loaded the van with a little help, and drove back as the sun set.  We still had a problem: how to get it out of the van, up a flight of steps, into the apartment and set up.  The shelf is 7 feet tall and heavy!!  

Fortunately a neighbor was home, and helped us carry it.  He refused any form of payment, but agreed to a dram of Glenmorangie with me.  

Then Linda and I moved just a few more things, and I reloaded the one shelf.  I was a sweaty mess.  Again, I felt dizzy and so tired.  So very tired- just loading and unloading a shelf.  I used to do this sort of thing all the time- stocking shelves, moving books around, with no trouble at all.

Now, doing this completely wears me out.  It makes me feel like my ability to work, my ability to be useful, may be coming to an end.  And of course, in a capitalist society, if I can't work then I'm worthless.  Maybe I need a capacitor to help my capacity to work.

I made that vase in art class my senior year in high school.

In any case, the one shelf is restocked, and the other will have books and things.  The apartment is small, so having more shelving helps.  

This getting old thing really sucks.

Be well.

Penn State Transgender Day of Remembrance 2023 Speaking notes

 

Trigger warnings: death, suicide, truth.

What does TDoR mean to me?

It's intensely personal.  Each year, I carry a picture with me to TDoR ceremonies I attend.  I carry it because someone very dear to me died of violence in September 2013.  Self-inflicted violence.  That wound will never heal.  That scar will never fade. 

Speaking makeup

This year, there are 69 known dead in the US, and 389 dead worldwide.  Those numbers are less than last year, breaking the long-standing trend of annual increases. 

	World	US	Brazil
2022	389	69	107
2021	472	74	153
Difference	-83	-5	-46
Percent	-18%	-7%	-30%
Percent of total	0	18%	28%

(reference if needed)

Someone I’ve known since a month after my re-awakening in 2008, Maddie Hoffman, is one of these names, shot three times by police officers on a wellness check.  Suicide by cop.  

Lee Mokobe: “now oncoming traffic is embracing more transgender children than parents.”

Who can blame her for having a mental health crisis?  The GOP is demonizing and legislating us out of existence everywhere they can.

How long until we see something like Pink triangles as required adornment for transgender people?  How long until my name is among those read by someone I’ll never meet, or laugh with

In any case, the police weren’t charged.  That’s because, in the eyes of the law and many others, we are not human.  An overwhelming percentage of trans murders are never investigated, never mind solved.  Their only crime was living at the Intersection of identity, race, and othering.   The sentence for our existence is Death or exile.  Court is never adjourned.   But there is hope.

This building we occupy stands for the belief that there is something more to our existence- and that those we honor tonight join the chorus invisible of those we honored last year, and the year before.  We say their names, their loved ones remember and grieve them, and we continue the fight.  We continue until there are no more death sentences, until there are no more exiles from home and friends. 

To those whose names we read tonight, all I can say is: I’m sorry: we failed you.  But we will remember, and pray that somewhere, you have found peace. 

Let us honor them, by the name of:

 (read first 10 names

The Spiritual Center

Falling In

 This past weekend was rather eventful.

I saw Wife and Daughter briefly on Saturday- for around 30 minutes.  Daughter, now 15, had plans with friends about which I was not briefed.  Ok, stuff happens... so after a two and a half hour drive, now what?  I could visit friends (if they returned texts inquiring about that).  I could go to Sly Fox to try their Shepherd's Pie that their chef (a friend) was bragging about (which I did- and it was amazing!).  

There was also a miniature wargaming convention out in Lancaster, PA called Fall In. Back when I worked at Games Workshop, I always went to this.  The sponsor HMGS holds three conventions a year: Cold Wars, Historicon, and Fall In.  Usually they were held in Lancaster or Gettysburg, and most of the GW people who gamed (most of us did) went to play and see friends.  

I hadn't attended one of these since I transitioned, as the miniature wargaming hobby is primarily male and overwhelmingly conservative.  However, several of my old GW friends were now working at Gale Force Nine games, and they were going.  I decided to visit.  

One of the attractions of the convention is seeing the amazing gaming tables some people build.  While some people are, ahem, rather lame in their presentation, others go all-out and their tables are amazing. 

The dealer's area was in a separate building, which I made my way towards, and bumped into a facialbook friend from the Philly area.  We chatted briefly.  Eventually, I found the GF9 booth, and there were three of my old co-workers.  One of them (I'll call him 1) had seen Sophie previously, but not the other two.  I hired one of the other guys (2) for GW all those years ago.  The third (3) was at GW before me, and has transgender son.  All three greeted me warmly, and we caught up.  I learned that one of my favorite people from GW is now involved behind the camera in the adult entertainment industry, which, if you know him, you'd say "yeah, that tracks."  

I then walked around the dealer's area, where I saw many items that, back when I still played, I would've been very interested in buying.  I used to spend a LOT of money I didn't have at these shows, and in the end, ended up selling off all those things to cover bills.  And so, while enjoying the displays, I didn't buy (except one bottle of paint.)

Then I ran into a familiar face, whom I'll call 4.  Back when I worked for Chessex in the early 90s, he owned a game company in the space upstairs in the warehouse, where he made high end wargames.  He had a booth, and I stopped to chat.  He hadn't heard that I'd transitioned, so he was quite surprised.  We chatted for a bit.

After that, I said my goodbyes to the GF9 guys, and drove back to State College, listening to Penn State football crush Indiana on the radio.  

That night, I watched as the Phillies played hard, but lost the World Series in game six.  No one expected the Phils to make the playoffs, never mind go all the way to the World Series, so it was a magical ride.  Still, it was a disappointment.  

The week has drifted by in a haze of insomnia and unease.  The elections weren't the triumph for fascism that the GQP wanted, but enough election-deniers were elected (but they don't trust elections?) to make 2024 a GQP coup.  The worst of the anti-lgbt trolls were easily re-elected and are now seen as presidential timber.  

So, now it's raining outside as the remnants of a hurricane pass directly over us.  A soggy day, to be sure, so, to cheer myself up, I decided to trowel on some makeup before doing errands.

Sometimes it's the little things that keep me going.

Be well.

A Truth

"I wanted all the people I'd met along the way through those experiences to disappear.  I did not want to be who they knew.  Maybe that's a better way to put it.  It wasn't that I wanted everyone else to disappear.  I wanted to make myself disappear"  Laura Jane Grace "Black Me Out" (Part 6)

Right now, that's what I want- to disappear.  I'm just a disgusting blob taking up space.