Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Friday, February 23, 2007
Perfect Hair
There is nothing as frustrating as the search for perfect hair. First there are the typical MTF trans issues to deal with: receding hairline in front; bald spot in back. I took care of those years ago with transplants in Bangkok. I mean the transplants were on my head...and I had it done in...well, I'm digressing...never mind. It’s probably the best money I ever spent. A half-day session to move some hair around and it’s like –wow. It really works!
Even so, I am not fond of my naturally curly hair. So I am always looking to soften those curls by blow drying, chemicals, ironing, or whatever I can find to tone it down a notch. It would be wonderful to go from Bozo the Clown curly to Tyra Banks wavy, but I haven’t found the magic for that yet.
Then there’s length, volume, etc. I have a long face (like Cher, but not as pretty) so long hair is possible, but mine frizzes out the longer it gets. Not an attractive look. So I tried thinning it out. Ugh, horrible haircut. Fire one hair-stylist. I let the hair grow back out, and tried another stylist. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, and cut cut cut away. He hates that I use so much hairspray to cement my hair in place, but I’m trying to fight the Bozo effect. Result: short Bozo hair. I left the shop feeling depressed. Another cut that was too short, and I still looked like me instead of Jennifer Aniston. Sigh.
The cut is growing on me (there’s an intentional pun there :)), and I like the highlights. But I’m already looking to growing it out again. Will I ever find the perfect hair?
Even so, I am not fond of my naturally curly hair. So I am always looking to soften those curls by blow drying, chemicals, ironing, or whatever I can find to tone it down a notch. It would be wonderful to go from Bozo the Clown curly to Tyra Banks wavy, but I haven’t found the magic for that yet.
Then there’s length, volume, etc. I have a long face (like Cher, but not as pretty) so long hair is possible, but mine frizzes out the longer it gets. Not an attractive look. So I tried thinning it out. Ugh, horrible haircut. Fire one hair-stylist. I let the hair grow back out, and tried another stylist. He seemed to know exactly what I needed, and cut cut cut away. He hates that I use so much hairspray to cement my hair in place, but I’m trying to fight the Bozo effect. Result: short Bozo hair. I left the shop feeling depressed. Another cut that was too short, and I still looked like me instead of Jennifer Aniston. Sigh.
The cut is growing on me (there’s an intentional pun there :)), and I like the highlights. But I’m already looking to growing it out again. Will I ever find the perfect hair?
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
I Heard It On NPR
I rode home on a relatively typical commute – one that takes no more than a half hour. It really shouldn’t be called a commute. I only live 15 miles from where I work. And I’m lucky that the BART train keeps the traffic down on my route. So I can have a leisurely ride most days and listen to the radio. Today was one of those days.
But it wasn’t leisurely despite the mild traffic. NPR was interviewing Republicans in the middle states where campaigning, or pseudo campaigning for undeclared candidates, has been going on. It’s important to note that when this decade began I wasn’t anti-Republican. I was one of the Reagan Democrats, and proud of it. I have my conservative side, and even voted for Bush because I didn’t believe my party was tough enough on those that attacked us on 9-11. I thought Dems were too busy finding reasons to blame ourselves.
I have been kicking myself for most of this decade. I thought Bush was a moderate. Okay, so my head must have been up my a_ _ during that period. My friends and colleagues have not let me forget it. I thought we had another Reagan; instead we got a pig-headed, narrow-minded, right-wing fundamentalist who has almost single-handedly (almost because he has his cowboy cabinet helping him) destroyed the Middle East, and pitted the entire world against us. Not to mention all the deaths he is responsible for. And it’s taken him less than 8 years to do it. It may take decades to undo the damage he has done to us.
So, NPR interviewed several people and most were philosophical about their party, conceding that Bush screwed it up beyond salvaging—at least for the next election cycle. But one woman (I’m so distressed at my sex in this case) said that this country was so out of control because we keep killing babies (she’s strictly anti-abortion), and she also said we need to stop this Gay business. This Gay business? I almost ran off the road.
I never knew Republican was actually a synonym for Ignorant until I heard this woman spew her idiotic drivel. We can boil down the problems in this country to abortion and this Gay business. I’m so upset I don’t even want to go on. All I can say is that it will be a cold day in Hell (excuse the cliché) before I ever vote for a Republican again. And I’m proud to be a Gay woman who has a responsible, loving partner. And I’m proud to belong to no political party whatsoever. I’m so tired of them all. Especially the Ignorant Party.
But it wasn’t leisurely despite the mild traffic. NPR was interviewing Republicans in the middle states where campaigning, or pseudo campaigning for undeclared candidates, has been going on. It’s important to note that when this decade began I wasn’t anti-Republican. I was one of the Reagan Democrats, and proud of it. I have my conservative side, and even voted for Bush because I didn’t believe my party was tough enough on those that attacked us on 9-11. I thought Dems were too busy finding reasons to blame ourselves.
I have been kicking myself for most of this decade. I thought Bush was a moderate. Okay, so my head must have been up my a_ _ during that period. My friends and colleagues have not let me forget it. I thought we had another Reagan; instead we got a pig-headed, narrow-minded, right-wing fundamentalist who has almost single-handedly (almost because he has his cowboy cabinet helping him) destroyed the Middle East, and pitted the entire world against us. Not to mention all the deaths he is responsible for. And it’s taken him less than 8 years to do it. It may take decades to undo the damage he has done to us.
So, NPR interviewed several people and most were philosophical about their party, conceding that Bush screwed it up beyond salvaging—at least for the next election cycle. But one woman (I’m so distressed at my sex in this case) said that this country was so out of control because we keep killing babies (she’s strictly anti-abortion), and she also said we need to stop this Gay business. This Gay business? I almost ran off the road.
I never knew Republican was actually a synonym for Ignorant until I heard this woman spew her idiotic drivel. We can boil down the problems in this country to abortion and this Gay business. I’m so upset I don’t even want to go on. All I can say is that it will be a cold day in Hell (excuse the cliché) before I ever vote for a Republican again. And I’m proud to be a Gay woman who has a responsible, loving partner. And I’m proud to belong to no political party whatsoever. I’m so tired of them all. Especially the Ignorant Party.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
All Hail The Queen
Superbowl Sunday. Colts vs. Bears – an all animal game this year. Even in laid back San Francisco people thought there’d be a lot of excitement around the game. And there was in some corners of the city. I even bought a Peyton Manning jersey, mostly because I like his commercials. He’s funny. 
But I didn’t watch the Superbowl, nor did many others by the look of San Francisco Bay that day—a day that featured a hazy blue sky, mild temperatures and calm waters. My partner (Traci) calls those bluebird days, and they lure us out of our homes onto the playgrounds, the beaches and the parks. Coincidentally, Traci and I had booked a night tour to Alcatraz that day; a friend was visiting and wanted to see the famous prison. We’d never seen it, so we thought it would be nice to take her.
About a week before the tour, the papers were filled with stories of The Queen Mary 2 steaming into the bay for a stopover on her world tour. There were articles or TV news stories about it every day: The biggest cruise ship on the water today; Will barely fit under the Golden Gate Bridge; A floating city; $21,000 per person for the least expensive ticket, $125,000 for the most expensive. And on and on. I’ve always been excited by big things. Big trucks, big planes, big boats—I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a genetic defect, or maybe it comes from comparing penis sizes as boys when we were growing up. Who knows? But I figured maybe I’d get a chance to see the QM2 from our vantage point on Alcatraz or maybe from the docks. I’ve never been very lucky with my timing, so I didn’t count on anything.
The day of the tour we boarded the ferry to Alcatraz at 4:20pm. We launched, and as soon as we rounded the point and saw the bay, there she was. She’d cleared the Golden Gate Bridge by less than 30 feet, and she was headed straight for us. She was HUGE! Even from a distance. Our tour guide had been trying to talk about Alcatraz over the speakers, but even she decided to stop and watch the spectacle. We had to wait for the QM2 to pass before we could proceed to Alcatraz, and we were able to watch her approach for over 20 minutes as she seemed to glide over the calm gray waters, barely making a ripple behind her.
You’d never know there was a Superbowl playing somewhere by the looks of the people lining the shores, the piers, and the numbers of boats on the water. The bay was a spectacle of sailboats, yachts, motorboats, ferries, and almost anything that could float trailed alongside and behind the giant ship like ducks behind their mother. QM2 blew her horn occasionally and was answered all along the Bay. Her decks were lined with hundreds of people waving and we waved in return as she passed right beside us. Our SF Fire Department fireboat, “The Phoenix” escorted QM2 into the Bay with geysers of water spraying in all directions, and passed on the one side of us as QM2 passed on the other. Even those staid types among us couldn’t help cheer and wave as the behemoth made way to her berth. For me it was more striking than the jail tour on Alcatraz.
I took the opportunity to sneak away from the tour on the island later that evening. I looked back toward the city shortly after the sun set in the distance; the city lights glittered with reflected brilliance in the still water at its feet. The QM2 was carefully nested in its berth a little to the city’s left (as I looked at it) and glittered with its own brilliance. It truly was a floating city. It’s a sight I won’t soon forget. And these pictures can’t convey the excitement of that bluebird day.
And by the way, not all legends are true: The QM2 is the biggest cruise ship in the world, but The Birdman of Alcatraz never had birds at the prison on Alcatraz.
But I didn’t watch the Superbowl, nor did many others by the look of San Francisco Bay that day—a day that featured a hazy blue sky, mild temperatures and calm waters. My partner (Traci) calls those bluebird days, and they lure us out of our homes onto the playgrounds, the beaches and the parks. Coincidentally, Traci and I had booked a night tour to Alcatraz that day; a friend was visiting and wanted to see the famous prison. We’d never seen it, so we thought it would be nice to take her.
About a week before the tour, the papers were filled with stories of The Queen Mary 2 steaming into the bay for a stopover on her world tour. There were articles or TV news stories about it every day: The biggest cruise ship on the water today; Will barely fit under the Golden Gate Bridge; A floating city; $21,000 per person for the least expensive ticket, $125,000 for the most expensive. And on and on. I’ve always been excited by big things. Big trucks, big planes, big boats—I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a genetic defect, or maybe it comes from comparing penis sizes as boys when we were growing up. Who knows? But I figured maybe I’d get a chance to see the QM2 from our vantage point on Alcatraz or maybe from the docks. I’ve never been very lucky with my timing, so I didn’t count on anything.
The day of the tour we boarded the ferry to Alcatraz at 4:20pm. We launched, and as soon as we rounded the point and saw the bay, there she was. She’d cleared the Golden Gate Bridge by less than 30 feet, and she was headed straight for us. She was HUGE! Even from a distance. Our tour guide had been trying to talk about Alcatraz over the speakers, but even she decided to stop and watch the spectacle. We had to wait for the QM2 to pass before we could proceed to Alcatraz, and we were able to watch her approach for over 20 minutes as she seemed to glide over the calm gray waters, barely making a ripple behind her.
You’d never know there was a Superbowl playing somewhere by the looks of the people lining the shores, the piers, and the numbers of boats on the water. The bay was a spectacle of sailboats, yachts, motorboats, ferries, and almost anything that could float trailed alongside and behind the giant ship like ducks behind their mother. QM2 blew her horn occasionally and was answered all along the Bay. Her decks were lined with hundreds of people waving and we waved in return as she passed right beside us. Our SF Fire Department fireboat, “The Phoenix” escorted QM2 into the Bay with geysers of water spraying in all directions, and passed on the one side of us as QM2 passed on the other. Even those staid types among us couldn’t help cheer and wave as the behemoth made way to her berth. For me it was more striking than the jail tour on Alcatraz.
I took the opportunity to sneak away from the tour on the island later that evening. I looked back toward the city shortly after the sun set in the distance; the city lights glittered with reflected brilliance in the still water at its feet. The QM2 was carefully nested in its berth a little to the city’s left (as I looked at it) and glittered with its own brilliance. It truly was a floating city. It’s a sight I won’t soon forget. And these pictures can’t convey the excitement of that bluebird day.
And by the way, not all legends are true: The QM2 is the biggest cruise ship in the world, but The Birdman of Alcatraz never had birds at the prison on Alcatraz.
Saturday, February 3, 2007
An Old Essay
In Sociology class I had to write an essay on why I was in school (community college). It was meant for kids out of the house for the first time, but it was apt for this old woman too. Here it is with all its warts:
Why Am I Here? Sept 10, 2003
It has taken me some fifty-odd years to get here. The path here is littered with many trials—battles won and battles lost, friends remembered and forgotten, family found and family lost. It has been a hard road and it has left its marks on me. Along the way I have learned a few things. I have leaned that happiness is elusive, but attainable. I have learned that sorrow is unavoidable, but manageable. I have learned that contentment can be a close companion. Most of all I have learned that the struggle for achievement is never ending.
Several years ago I had a conversation with my employer about my education. I was lamenting the fact that I had never finished college and gotten my degree. At that time it had been 15 years since I had been in school. He asked me why it was so important to have a college degree. I was doing well, making decent money, and had a good family. I should just forget about college and concentrate on my career. This advice offered from a college graduate and owner of the company. I was an office manager for him and would never advance. I think he liked it that way. I didn’t like it, and I went to night school anyway. Unfortunately, I did not have a plan for my education and I ended up taking a smattering of courses that achieved nothing in terms of a degree. In the meantime, events occurred that lost me that job.
I suppose when I first considered going back to college I still believed in the American dream—at least a little. It’s funny how after years of being kept down, struggling to make ends meet, losing ground year after year to increasing taxes, decreasing wages, and increasing costs that I still held out hope for that dream. It is incredible how ingrained that myth is in our psyches. But with the encouragement and support of my new love and partner, Traci, I came back. And I came to Skyline College.
My immediate goal is to obtain a two year degree. My long term goal is to obtain a four year degree, if circumstances permit. I found that my strengths are in writing so I am majoring in English at present. However, I discovered something incredible this semester, my second at Skyline. I am discovering additional experiences by broadening my course structure—something you have to do to obtain a degree. I love my drawing class and found I can actually draw a little. I run as fast as a crippled tortoise in my PE class but I can out distance kids half my age. Journalism is a new kind of writing for me and I am immersed in it. I have discovered how history can come alive and enrich me in so many ways that I never imagined before. I learned to read as many as four and five books at a time, and it never seems to be enough to satisfy my thirst to discover more. Most amazing to me is my math class. I am actually learning math—and I kind of like it!
My initial fears I had about going back to school so late in my life are a distant memory as I plunge ahead with electric enthusiasm. I am meeting people here that are enriching my life beyond anything I could have hoped for. And I hope I am helping some others as much as they are helping me. Getting a degree will certainly help me in the future. But experiencing and living the vibrant colors of college is reinvigorating me with a magic as powerful as the fountain of youth.
Why Am I Here? Sept 10, 2003
It has taken me some fifty-odd years to get here. The path here is littered with many trials—battles won and battles lost, friends remembered and forgotten, family found and family lost. It has been a hard road and it has left its marks on me. Along the way I have learned a few things. I have leaned that happiness is elusive, but attainable. I have learned that sorrow is unavoidable, but manageable. I have learned that contentment can be a close companion. Most of all I have learned that the struggle for achievement is never ending.
Several years ago I had a conversation with my employer about my education. I was lamenting the fact that I had never finished college and gotten my degree. At that time it had been 15 years since I had been in school. He asked me why it was so important to have a college degree. I was doing well, making decent money, and had a good family. I should just forget about college and concentrate on my career. This advice offered from a college graduate and owner of the company. I was an office manager for him and would never advance. I think he liked it that way. I didn’t like it, and I went to night school anyway. Unfortunately, I did not have a plan for my education and I ended up taking a smattering of courses that achieved nothing in terms of a degree. In the meantime, events occurred that lost me that job.
I suppose when I first considered going back to college I still believed in the American dream—at least a little. It’s funny how after years of being kept down, struggling to make ends meet, losing ground year after year to increasing taxes, decreasing wages, and increasing costs that I still held out hope for that dream. It is incredible how ingrained that myth is in our psyches. But with the encouragement and support of my new love and partner, Traci, I came back. And I came to Skyline College.
My immediate goal is to obtain a two year degree. My long term goal is to obtain a four year degree, if circumstances permit. I found that my strengths are in writing so I am majoring in English at present. However, I discovered something incredible this semester, my second at Skyline. I am discovering additional experiences by broadening my course structure—something you have to do to obtain a degree. I love my drawing class and found I can actually draw a little. I run as fast as a crippled tortoise in my PE class but I can out distance kids half my age. Journalism is a new kind of writing for me and I am immersed in it. I have discovered how history can come alive and enrich me in so many ways that I never imagined before. I learned to read as many as four and five books at a time, and it never seems to be enough to satisfy my thirst to discover more. Most amazing to me is my math class. I am actually learning math—and I kind of like it!
My initial fears I had about going back to school so late in my life are a distant memory as I plunge ahead with electric enthusiasm. I am meeting people here that are enriching my life beyond anything I could have hoped for. And I hope I am helping some others as much as they are helping me. Getting a degree will certainly help me in the future. But experiencing and living the vibrant colors of college is reinvigorating me with a magic as powerful as the fountain of youth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)