Aug. 5th, 2010

axeslade: (queen of wands future will eat me)
So yesterday, before the pain set in, was a 'bad gender day'.

The best way I can sum this up...sigh. There is none.

I was having a total 'boy day' (air quotes because, man, these labels are not all-inclusive of the feelings they represent). Boy clothes, yay! Seeing a boy in the mirror, yay!, painters still not quite out, even tho they seemed like it before. Not yay.

Then I watched some Eddie Izzard. I watched Believe: The Eddie Izzard Story (can be watched for free at after you request an invite code) and then his Live At Wembley special.


Eddie Izzard is funny, right? Funny and awesome and all that. So why was I sad? Because he's gorgeous in drag and seems so free and easy and accepts himself so well. There's no shame. There's some self-deprecating humour, but you know.

And I...I can't quite get there, not all the time. And it's hard being in my skin sometimes. And yes, I know Eddie Izzard haz ISSUES, we all do. I'm just saying. I was hormonal like woah again, so hearing his father talk about how he didn't care what his son wore as long as he didn't get beat up, and Eddie prancing onto the stage looking so light...when not long ago my mother said something along the lines of how she'll never refer to me as [chosen name] no matter what...yeah. So, bad gender day and pain day.

I'd like to think these aren't ill omens for the future of Prop 8 related stuff on appeals, but just my body and mind being made of fucking fail.
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