#16 (aka: Examination)

I just finished my First Aid final exam about fifteen minutes ago. I have Chorus next, and it's a half day, so after two blocks of that (following another block here in the First Aid/9th Grade Health/Sewing-Textiles classroom) I'll be able to go home. ::YAY!!!::

Last Friday, my Chorus teacher gave us the written part of our exam. That went okay, I think, except for the note reading, and subsequent song identifying through note reading. I don't read notes. It would have gone better if I did, but I don't. So there. But, anyway... last week when I took that part of the exam, my throat was still too glibber-globbly to sing. And, since it's Chorus, singing is part of the exam. So I'll do that part today. However, some questions ring through my mind at the end of each semester in Chorus: Why do we have an exam in that class? All we do is sing! And why does she think that we're going to remember the notes of our songs after we sing them? Come on! Hardly any of us even read music!

...Jeez...

#15 (aka: Story)

Okay, dewds, this is the first part of that new story that I posted about yesterday (which y'all can still help me with if you feel so inspired, hehe (but no hard feelings if you don't, of course)). I decided it's going to be called "Boi Band" (unless anybody else can come up with a better title). Comments of any sort about it are welcome (even if you post "Elliot, this is the worst piece of writing I've ever read in my life. You have to start all over again"). Anyway... here it is:

Courage is fear that says its prayers. This is the only “old saying” that I have ever heeded to or understood. That’s because it is the only one that has ever really and directly applied to me.

My name is Crane. I was born and raised less than an hour from the Queer capitol of Massachusetts (known commonly as Northampton), but for many years I didn’t know that this incredible jewel even existed. It took me almost until I was eighteen to begin to appreciate the greatness held within that town, but once I did, I never looked back.

It was through my friend Theo that I met someone else who would change my life. His name is Hewitt, and he was my first real dad, even though, in many ways, he just couldn’t be.

Before you wonder, no; I was not a test-tube baby. I have a biological mother and father, but my relationship with Hewitt always was and still remains totally different. My birth parents love me, yes, but they don’t really know me – they don’t see me like Hewitt does. They don’t “get” me like him. He and Theo and Dragan and Macon and Oliver – they’re the best chosen family a young Transgender man like me could ever hope for. They’re all my heart ever cried out for, and it was only when they answered that my world finally came together and truly made sense.

#14 (aka: We are fam-i-ly)

I'm writing a new short (though it could turn out to be not so short when it's finished) story, and I need some help.

The story is going to be about the close relationship that these 5 Transguys have together. I don't know if there's gonna be any romance yet, because I haven't really started to write it -- just in the planning stages right now, you see. I'm going to focus on the closeness these guys have with one another, and I was wondering if anyone on here has any insight or feelings about that kind of close brotherhood that FTM's and Butches (and other groups of people, I'm sure) seem to have. Believe me, I've got a couple of guys that I feel extremely close to, so I could write this story with just my idea about this bond, but I like to have other peoples' perspectives on these sorts of things. So... the floor is open. Anybody?

#13 (aka: "This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you")

I don't know if it's just me or what, but the way that Josh Groban sings "Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)" just breaks my heart. Or, maybe it's that the man is just lovely. Or, maybe it's that he doesn't appear to be Queer. Not that he needs to be Queer to be crush-worthy... it just might be a bit encouraging.

But, anyway, this post isn't supposed to be about his looks. If you wanna hear the boy sing "Vincent" (which is an experience I highly recommend), pick up his self-titled album (it's been out for a few years, but you can probably get it anywhere they sell CD's).

And that concludes my too-excited/groupie raving about Mr. Groban. Enjoy the eye candy (I certainly am). And enjoy the voice (if you don't already).

#12 (aka: Yay! Friends!)

A couple months ago, I created an account on LiveJournal.com because I knew a couple of friends who had accounts there and thought perhaps I should check it out. So I did. And I got a comment, and a couple of friends on there, but nothing monumental.

Then, yesterday, my good ol' buddy Bear posted a blurb about me (much like Peterson did when I first made Little Bits here on Blogger) and suddenly, I got swarmed with comments and adding of friends (all through Bear, of course) and everything started to come up roses!

Here is the link to my LiveJournal (if any of y'all have LJ's and have kept mum about it, or if you just wanna check out mine if you're bored online sometime): elliot-manning.livejournal.com


Peace out!

#11 (aka: I think I'm Gay)

Oooh, big shocker! Yeah, definitely not. That was sarcastic, way beyond the level that I usually attempt at the beginning of an entry but whatever. This has been a long time coming, I guess. I still haven't totally come to the final conclusion that I only want to date more masculine people, but that is definitely a possibility. Being in the mindset that I have been lately, since I've been working on figuring all this stuff out anyway, it isn't really that big of a deal to me. But I can think of a few people that this might be hard for (like my girlfriend, for instance). Yesterday I told Bear (we're okay again, by the way) about how I felt about my sexual orientation, knowing full well that it would not be weird to him at all, and he decided to be a jokester and exclaim "Oh, Elliot, that's terrible! I just cannot be your friend anymore! That's it! I'm sorry, but, no!" He was being a wiseass/a supportive buddy, but when I tell some people, I'm sure that they'll have the same reaction (only, without the sprinkling of humor). Lots of people around me just don't "get" the fluidity of sexuality, and how it can change over a lifetime. But I "get" it, because I'm living it!

On a more serious note concerning this, I've been thinking for a while (well, two or three weeks, since my girlfriend and I started together) that my situation with her is not so unlike the situation that Peterson had with his wife when he was married to her. In "Fish Can't Fly", I believe it was you, Peterson, who said that you felt that you were being unfaithful to her because whenever you were... intimate..., it was not usually her that you were thinking about -- it was men. By the way, you can give me a good knock up'side the head when we see one another again if it was another person who said this, but I think it was you. And whenever I kiss my girlfriend (I've got a cold, though, so I haven't in a few days), I don't think about kissing her -- I think about kissing someone... else. Usually, a Transman I imagine up. I feel bad, but I can't help it. Any thoughts on all of this?

#10 (aka: How many blogs does one really need?!)

I'm considering not posting on Little Bits anymore (or not as much) due to extremely low amounts of traffic/comments on the posts I make on it. I'm not going to do it until I get at least a couple of comments about it on here or on Little Bits (or at least not for a week, so if you have any entries you want to print out or whatever, you'll have time). I'm not going to shut down the blog (because I don't know if I really can) but I definitely won't be posting as much on there. 'Cause things are just getting way too slow on there, dudes!

If you want to keep finding new posts on lovely Little Bits, write me a comment and tell me why.

#9 (aka: I am SO Queer)

I am Queer. Take a look at me, and what I stand for and what music I listen to and what I read and write about, and you can see that fact as clear as day. But, aside from all that, there really is something about me that (up until recently) I thought was really strange, even by my standards, which are pretty liberal, thank you very much.

When I first came out as Transgender, I thought that all Transguys had to date Femmes and that all Transwomen had to date Butches (Femmes didn’t have to be biological women, and Butches didn’t have to be biological men, but that was still how it had to be, all the same). Those were the rules (at least the ones that I was taught) of the Transgender Dating Game. But what I didn’t think about was that, as Transpeople, we were already breaking many traditional “rules” set by the rest of society anyway, so why couldn’t we just continue with that? I mean, slaying all of the other expectations that the general society had placed on us since we were born just because of the sex our doctors proclaimed us to have was working out okay, so why not just take it one step further, yeah? Yeah. Exactly.

Well, I’m living proof of the fluidity of sexuality and the shape-shifting of gender that can happen when people stop giving half a fuck about what anyone else thinks and just give themselves that kind of power, so I was only a little surprised when, after years of being only attracted to women, I became attracted to men, as well. But I’ve also gotten a girlfriend recently, and we’ve been discussing the possibility of getting “intimate” and after looking at a book yesterday of exquisite drawings of gorgeous men having, shall we say, a very good time together, it’s come to my attention that I really want a boyfriend. Or, something along those lines.

Even to make sure that I wanted a man and that the excitement I felt in that bookstore wasn’t just a fluke, random… thing, I read some lesbian erotica, and you know what I felt? DAMN NEAR NOTHING. And I quickly realized that all that I was feeling while reading the lesbian erotica was mostly just the aftershock of the arousal I had after looking at those freakin’ beautiful men.

After thinking about it further, though, I’ve realized that maybe I’m just not as attracted to my girlfriend as I thought I was. I mean, for one thing, she really isn’t my type at all (for the record, I usually am attracted to the more goth/punk/cabaret/S&M-looking kind of ladies, and my girlfriend... well, let's just say she isn't that kind of girl). Men are (certainly and definitely) not out of the question entirely, either, but I’d say that it’s about time that I find what I’m looking for and try to form a relationship with someone that might have a chance of lasting.

#8 (aka: As if I haven't made it clear enough...)

Ignorance of any kind really pisses me off. But today I was pretty blown away by it. There is a boy in my school's Gay Straight Alliance who decided to take a tally collection of how many times he heard a phrase like "that's so gay" in school. He began it last Friday and has carried it on to today. The results were appalling to me, though not all that surprising, considering the community in which our school is surrounded. He reported that he had heard some version of the above-printed homophobic remark 35 times. So we decided almost immediately that our GSA's topic for the workshop we're leading at the Annual Community Coalition for Teens Conference in early April is going to be about teaching ways to combat (or at least try to deal with non-violently) homophobic remarks in school. We think it will be interesting, and I hope it makes a difference to some of the youth who will be attending our workshop, because all of this cruelty really needs to stop. And soon, for the sake of the GLBTQQI-identifying people who are either already trying to make it through the year at our school or who will be coming in the coming years. We need to create a better environment for them, and for "out" (and not yet "out") Queer individuals everywhere.

#7 (aka: Better today)

I'm trying not to focus as much on what happened with Bear now. If I do find myself thinking about Wednesday, I try to immediately zone in on the fun I had with him, instead of the rough patch we hit toward the end of our visit. I'm still having a bit of a hard time, but I'm trying to stay strong. I've been thinking that maybe if I stop consciously looking for a father figure, I'll just find one someday (hopefully much sooner than later). After all, that's how I ended up meeting my first girlfriend. And our relationship turned out to be pretty good... for a while. Yeah -- that's what I'll do. I just hope I don't end up kicking myself for it.

Something that helped me to not think about Wednesday's cloud of trauma was my presentation in Contemporary Issues about Transgender Discrimination. After my PowerPoint slideshow was finished, I answered an array of questions that didn't really have to do with discrimination in particular (they asked instead about the process of transitioning for Transgender people and about how my family and society and general deals with it), but it was still a heart-warming, optimism-inducing experience for me because it proved to me that these people are not as cruel as I always thought they were (at least, they're not as cruel now). And they really listened to what I had to say! Attentively! And that was probably the best part of all.

My teacher said that she'd never witnessed anything like the transformation my class seems to have made because of my example. I'm not going to let that extraordinary compliment go to my head, but it was something I honestly didn't expect, and to be appreciated that way by someone outside of the Queer community is a great feeling.

#6 (aka: Orphan again)

I saw my friend Bear yesterday, and I was having a marvelous time until we got back to the cafe we originally met up at and began to have a conversation about how I thought of him as my Butch/FTM dad. He said that he wished he could be the kind of dad that I deserved, but he just can't. I don't think he understood that... well, maybe I just didn't quite understand (or want to understand) what his limitations were in terms of our relationship. He knows that he's a big part of my life, and he's been very important to me practically since I met him. Since I began to read his book, even, which was before I was introduced to him. I feel like I've been abandoned; orphaned; rejected. Yet again.

Talking with another friend about it afterwards helped. I got to tell my friend a lot of what I've wanted to tell him for a long time, but as I was saying all the words I told him -- everything I've kept locked inside of me even as I've gotten to know him better and trust him more -- I was terrified that he would reject me like I felt Bear had. I know that rejecting is (and really cannot be) part of his job description, but our friendship is closer than just one between co-workers. He's become my best friend. I love him dearly, but I hate the strict boundaries that are between us. I talked with him yesterday about how, some days, I wish I'd never walked through the doors of the place he works because then I could have met him under different terms -- there wouldn't be the "under surveilance" mentality over the situation because he wouldn't, in a way, be my superior. He would just be a friend -- he would just be my big brother.

I understand the boundaries that my other friend has to keep up because of his job. That's where we're able to see one another, and that's where I can get support from him. Although I might not appreciate with how strict they are, they are intact and, in order to maintain my relationship with him, I must follow them. But the closeness that I feel to him still doesn't make the fact that Bear can't be my dad feel any less traumatizing -- his care for me can't make that pain go away. He said to me yesterday that, in due time, I would find the kind of father figure that I'm searching so desperately for. But I can't just wait around for things to happen -- I'm not good at it. I like to have a schedule, and I like to know exactly when and how things are going to occur. I've worked so hard to be independent of people because I don't want to have to rely on others for happiness and contentment the rest of my life. But I just don't see that happening.

I thought that, by transitioning, I could lose some of that feeling of dependency, but now that I've realized how much I need my Trans brothers (as well as a Trans dad), I know that I need to be around people now more than ever. But it seems like almost every Transman that I encounter who might be able to become that crucial father figure does not have the time to take on that role. I understand that they are busy, but I really need someone to look out for me like a father is supposed to, because my biological father won't.

I need someone that I can call in the middle of the night if I get beaten up to come peel me off the sidewalk and drive me home. I need someone to come to the doctor's office with me when I get my first shot of testosterone, and to come to the hospital with me when I have my top surgery. I need someone to teach me all that he knows about how not to hurt the men and women that I form romantic relationships with. I need someone to vent to when the circumstances are most urgent. I need a shoulder to cry on when the Transmen I've met through places that I volunteer at or am a member of cannot be there for me because of the restrictions their jobs place on them. I'm not strong enough yet to do all this on my own -- I don't think I ever will be. I'm not good at being solitary -- I can't figure a lot of things out by myself. I need someone who doesn't have to think twice before coming to help me. I need someone who can be there for me 24/7, and if not that, then at least most of the time. I need to not feel alone even though I have many people to support and love me. I just need... someone.

#5 (aka: Surprise!)

I got two surprises today that changed my whole outlook on the rest of my senior year.

Number One: The results of the MCAS (Massachusetts Comprehensive Assessment System) test came back today, and every one of the five or six people who took the test the day that I did, passed. Including me! Woot! Who's the rock star? Oh, right now, I definitely am!

Number Two: (on a calmer note) I got an email from one of my cousins today, on the topic of my presentation in English today (see previous posting for more details), and in it I found some things out about him that I didn't expect at all. Shows how well I know my own relatives, I guess. I just didn't think anybody in my biological family really cared about my Transgender identity. But I'm glad to have been proven wrong. Check it out:

i just wanted to let you know that i support you with your...transgenderness? forgive me i don't really know what you call your decision. I just heard you say today that you dont get a whole lot of support from the fam. and i just wanted to make sure you knew you've got my support, even if you haven't got the rest of the family to back you.

#4 (aka: I feel sucked)

I just made what probably has been the second most nerve-wracking, high-emotion presentation in my entire career as an activist. I gave a speech of sorts to my English class that I never imagined would happen as smoothly as it did. I wrote a paper in which I compared the relationships between two sets of characters in Leslie Feinberg's books Stone Butch Blues and Drag King Dreams, and I gave my presentation based on what I wrote in my paper. Three people went before me -- two guys went on Friday, and then another girl went before me today. Their presentations basically progressed as described by our teacher, meaning they hit all of the requirements on the rubric. I tried to do that, and I thought I was doing pretty well with it until I hit the part where I read quotes from the book in order to truly convey how important the relationships were. I got very "into" what I was reading -- I used vocal inflection and volume to my advantage in order to really show the people in my class how these characters cared for one another.

When my teacher began to speak after I finished reading the quotes, I thought that he was going to reprimand me and basically tell me to just get on with it because I didn't have much time left to present. But he said something surprising; he told me to tell my classmates what I wanted them walk away from my presentation thinking. So I told them that I wanted them to think about how much they valued their friends, because sometimes friends can be more family than our own relatives are. I followed that by saying that, in both Stone Butch Blues and Drag King Dreams, the main characters find the place that they know they really belong with members of their Chosen Family, and, in my personal experience as a Transguy, the same has happened. The Transgender people I have encountered and become friends with have truly become my brothers and sisters, and I feel a connection with them that I have never felt with any of my biological family. When I started this project, and even over the weekend when I was finishing it, I never thought about how I could connect my life to the lives of the characters in Stone Butch Blues and Drag King Dreams. But since my teacher helped me to get to that part of thought today, and since I was given a real opportunity by him in order to speak about it, I love those novels even more. And the growing passion I still feel for those books is the explanation for the title of this post -- when I was making my presentation, I felt powerful and on top of the world. Now, I feel completely drained. I feel sucked. But still good. ^_^

#3 (aka: I miss my one-time angel)

I was just looking at some photos I took of a beautiful female friend. She'd say that I'm an aspiring amature photographer. But, really, the location we shot the pictures at and the poses she made for them were all her idea -- I just held the camera and grinned and blushed like a doofus whenever she merely smiled or laughed. Her laugh is so lovely... it's soft, but loud enough to clearly hear. And whenever I hear it (particularly after I say something to flatter her), my stomach flips and my heart skips a beat. Whenever I'm around her, she is my whole world.

But lately, I haven't been around her, and, sadly, I don't really want to be. Because now, whenever I talk with her, she criticizes any issue that I bring to her. I guess she's always done that, but up until recently, I've taken her harsher words with a pinch of salt and called it "tough love" -- I thought, "She's just looking out for me. She's just trying to help me think things through better". But now her words slice deep into my heart, and they burn, and they're leaving scars.

I used to believe that I could be happy with whatever the future brought to our relationship. I thought I would be able to bear any wound or obstacle that we had to endure and overcome for the sake of our friendship. But I'm becoming weak -- I'm fraying at my seams, and I'm ripping toward my heart, and I can't find any way to make it stop.

I know I've been going on and on about how much she's hurting me, so you might wonder why I still call her my friend and why I don't just drop her to the wayside and move on. Sometimes I wonder that myself, but I continue to arrive at the same conclusion: Even though she stuns me terribly with her hard words much of the time, we have had hours upon hours of conversations, and there have been days when we were physically together, when I have felt more respect and adoration for her than I could ever describe. I love her very, very much, and I know that some of her toughness with me comes from her difficult past and uncertain present. As a friend, and as someone who is and has been enamored and enchanted by her, I just can't let her go.

#2 (aka: A little help from my friends)

It's been my experience that, sometimes, a good way to understand or get to know someone is by seeing who their friends are. It doesn't always work that way, of course, but sometimes it does. For me, to know about my best friends is to know me pretty well. So, here is the list of the most coveted members of my Chosen Family. They know me best -- they "get" me. Through them, you should know me better, too.

My Transbrothers


Davey: a spirited community worker; a powerful activist; a strong, proud Transguy

Alex P.: a Queer youth worker/advocate; an activist; a devoted partner; a strong, proud Transguy

Blaze: a drag king; an up-and-coming author; a proud, strong Transguy

Nick: a drag king; a faithful boyfriend; a strong, proud Transguy

Alex R.: a good father; a talented blogger; a strong, proud Transguy

Bear: an awesome writer; a performance artist; an activist; a strong, proud Butch/Transguy

My Transsisters

Kate: a thought-provoking writer; a performance artist; an activist; a sweetheart; a beautiful, powerful Transwoman

Jesse: a great artist; a darling; a beautiful, powerful Transwoman

Everybody else

Peterson: a strong activist; an "ex-Gay" movement survivor; a moving speaker

Ami: a powerhouse of knowledge with influential ideas about the world and how screwed up it seems to be for anyone who isn't a straight-laced Republican

Dane: a spectacular poet; a strong, independent woman

Chris: a sensitive, warm-hearted, open-minded, accepting man

*I also believe it goes without saying that all these people are the most wonderful friends anybody could ever hope to have*

Now you know me.

#1 (aka: "Howdy-ho")

For a few months, I have religiously posted on my first blog, Little Bits. But lately it has struck me that Little Bits has become more about my daily struggles as a teenage Transguy, and less about analyzing the news and such, which is really why I began writing it in the first place.

To the faithful (though few) readers/commenters of Little Bits, I thank you for over two months of luxurious, at times hilarious (and constantly cleansing and eye-opening), blogging experience. I hope you continue to enjoy all that it has to offer. I also urge you to hop on over here to check out my new blog, Boi, to see what your very own Elliot is up to.

Lastly, to any and all new readers, welcome aboard the S.S. T-Man! It will be a wild trip!

Anchors away!