I'm gonna be a drag king!

Well, I mean, I will be if I can get together enough money to go to Georgia this summer. But, hell, if? There is no "if"! I'm gonna get a job (I'm applying to a bunch of places when everything opens again on Tuesday), and I'm gonna graduate this year, and then I'm gonna go out to GA with my boys and we're gonna KICK ASS. Well, they might. I'm sure they will. But I'm not quite sure about me. They think I'm cool shit, but I'll let you in on something *gestures for you to come closer with my finger* *whispers*: I'm not really the shiz-nit. ... ;D

There's a lot of love between me and my brothers. I know that. But something I'm afraid I might have to clue them in on before we start practicing grinding and singing and having fun and making asses of ourselves is: I CAN'T DANCE. I mean, I can grind (I think). I can be a dirty, dirty boy, but that's only sometimes. In the dark, and in the crossfire of strobe lights. When there are people surrounding me but not paying attention to me at all. But on stage... with a bunch of people watching me who probably already know my brothers and thus might have heard about me from them but, like them, don't know I don't have any rhythm... uhhhh... heheheh. Check please!

Naw, I love those guys. I trust them. I know that, if they don't think I'm ready to go onstage and perform with them while I'm out there with them, or if I don't feel confident enough, they'll give me a break. I've got faith in them--if they think I can do it (like I think they do), then I'll try. But I'll never be as confident as them when they're performing (because I bet you gotta be pretty confident to be able to do something like that on a regular basis), and I doubt I'll ever look as good as the guy at the top of this post.

New writing

Last night, I couldn't fall asleep. An hour after I took my shower and brushed my teeth, I was still wide awake and thinking clearly. I read one of the books my father and stepmother gave me for Christmas. I listened to a bit of calm, slow, sad, romantic music. I went on the Internet. But I still could not sleep. Then I got an idea for something new to write. And I sat in my bed, with my pen and paper and my old, cracked, wooden writing board, and I let the words and ideas flow out of me. The result was a long time coming. It is a document of raw, painful memories and new, positive, encouraging statements from trusted friends. I'm not going to post it yet--it's very personal, and I don't think that I'm ready to let others see it in such a public fashion. Someday, maybe you'll see it. But not now.

Naming and overcoming

First order of business tonight is that I (finally) think I may have decided what my full name will be once I change it. The winner is: Elliot Lane Manning May Holloway.

Second, and last, something happened in my Chorus class last week that really disturbed me. You see, we don't have a very big high school Chorus (it's made up of 9 people, not including our instructor) and, on Tuesdays and Thursdays it gets even smaller because the majority of our group (except for 4 of us) have Gym class during the Chorus period. So on those 2 days, it's me and 3 girls and our instructor. Anyway...you get the picture. So, on Thursday of last week, the instructor informed us that she was thinking about having us sing an arrangement of the political uprising song "We Shall Overcome", which, as far as I know (or believed until this incident) is a pretty well-known song here in the U.S. My instructor and I were getting really "into" it because it's a beautiful song with soaring harmonies and swelling dynamics. And at the end of the song, the rest of the girls looked at us with these really weird expressions on their faces. One of them said, "I'm glad you guys knew the song 'cause I don't think any of us did". This shocked me! I attended the same elementary school as one of those girls, and I learned this song there! From as far back as I can remember, I've known that song! Maybe I just had a great music teacher that none of these girls had, but I thought it was kind of a common thing for schools to teach about society and the civil rights struggle (the African American fight, if not all the current ones).

I was not angry at these girls, but at their music teachers in elementary school, whoever they were. I wonder why I learned this incredible song while these others didn't. They're only 2 or 3 years behind me...did the teachings of elementary music education really change that much in such a short timespan?

So country CAN rock!

The London Free Press of London Ontario Canada has made me very, very proud today. It appears that, not only do many Americans stand firmly behind the Dixie Chicks and their film, "Shut Up and Sing", which is released in Canada today to couple with the sold-out concerts the talented Texas trio are performing at the Air Canada Centre tomorrow and Sunday nights. In America, the band is still experiencing backlash from the comment that lead singer Natalie Maines, made in 2003 made about how she and her bandmates, Martie Maguire and Emily Robinson, were ashamed that the president of the United States was from Texas. Here in the U.S., they are playing to crowds about half the size that they performed to before the comment was made. But, now, they don't really seem to care, because they know (along with many of their die-hard fans) that they were right in their words and they're right now in their actions, and they're still kicking ass.

Here is the link to the London Free Press article: http://lfpress.ca/newsstand/Today/Entertainment/2006/12/22/2931469-sun.html

Christmas comes but once a year, and thank goodness for that

Since my brother and I are living at our father's house next week, we're staying at my mother's house for one more night tonight to celebrate Christmas with her side of our family at her house tomorrow. That's all fine and dandy. We'll get to talk with people who live elsewhere in the state that we don't get to see very much, and we'll get to eat terrific food (my grandma's making a delicious holiday dessert with layers of brownie, raspberries, and whipped cream, and my aunt is bringing lasagna). But although I love my (biological) family, they each seem to share the same flaw, which would be their unacceptance of my gender and sexual status.

What seems to be interesting to me, specifically about my grandmother, is that, when I identified as a Lesbian, she kept pushing me to find a guy that I might fall for. But I kept pushing her right back because she was putting too much pressure on me. And now that I'm dressing like a man, and acting like a man, and since I responded to her positively yesterday about the fact that I might want to be with a guy, like she wanted, she wants me to date a girl! Ugh....even elderly women are confusing. I know that I have to keep in mind that she grew up in a time when it was proposterous to think that men could have relationships with men, or that women could fall in love with women and be with them. But I'm her grandchild, and I don't think that her childhood and background and her own lifestyle are valid excuses for her pressuring me to be something that I'm not. Am I really being hypocritical of her, and the rest of my family, by requesting that they try to understand where I'm coming from?

"Guy gifts"?!

*DISCLAIMER: Most of the beginning of this entry is sarcasm (well, really just the part about the expense that people spend on material gifts for each other when all they should really have to do for each other is show love). Do not take most of my own comments seriously. Or, do, but keep in mind that this article seems pretty sexist to me.*

Yahoo Health News recently posted an article provided by Men's Health called "The Best Last-Minute Guy Gifts". They're pretty pricy, because we all know that guys have a thing for expensive gifts--it's not just for women and those diamonds anymore! The majority of these gifts are over $100, and they were listed from the #1 gift to the #5 gift (though it doesn't say if these gifts were in any particular order of demand or popularity) as follows:

1. Apple iPod Shuffle, $79
2. Nikon D40 SLR Camera Kit, $600
3. Garmin Forerunner 305 Heart Rate Monitor and Watch, $376
4. Cameron Detour Putter, $300
5. Dyson Root Handheld Vacuum, $150

This list (actually, the whole article) raises some questions for me.

1. Since when do gifts come assigned with genders?
2. Why does a camera kit, which most probably would be used purely for recreation, cost more than a heart monitor?
3. Who in their right mind would spend $300 on a golf club?

Here's the link to the actual article if you feel so inclined to read it in all of its sexist-ness:
http://health.yahoo.com/experts/menlovesex/9544/the-best-last-minute-guy-gifts

Is the author off her rocker?

J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter book series, recently wrote on her website a few statements that infer that the literary giant has finally flown the cuckoo's nest. She's out of it. She's lost her mind! She said: "For years now, people have asked me whether I ever dream that I am 'in' Harry's world. The answer was 'no' until a few nights ago, when I had an epic dream in which I was, simultaneously, Harry and the narrator."

Let me say for the record that, when I was in 6th grade and the books were first released, I thought that they were genius. And I loved that they caused such controversy (remember how some schools/parents wouldn't let their students/children read them because of the magical themes?). But now I've just gotten sick of hearing about them. The movies are nowhere as good as the books, and now, looking back, I realized that I wasn't really that into the books to begin with. That's not to say that they aren't a great series of books. They're pretty damn awesome...I mean, if you're into that kind of thing.

It was an icky sink

I just spent the last 45 minutes scrubbing the dried paint out of a very deep and very wide sink in the art room at my school. One might ask, why the hell would I be crazy enough to do that?! The truth was, I had no choice. Well, it's not like anybody forced me to clean that crap out of the sink. The teachers in there weren't like "Clean this or else". I just did it to keep my senior privileges. Senior privs. (as they're so fondly called here by the students who have them) are the...well...privileges that seniors who keep up a certain grade in each class and who have good conduct can have. Basically, for anyone who has them, their study halls are turned into free periods where we can be our own teacher (to a point) and go use a computer in the library or guidance office or sit in our senior lobby on comfy couches and chairs and play board games or eat or read or talk or whatever. But, aside from having to keep up good grades and not get into trouble, we also have to do community service for teachers, which consists of doing whatever job a teacher of our choice needs done.

So, now my back hurts. A lot. But it feels good to have finished that round of community service. Now I just have another 6 months worth to do (until graduation!). Ugh....

Political YouTube videos rock

I've been getting pretty political this year. And something that has surprised me about the online video site YouTube is that they don't only have crazy comedy and claymation clips--they have some pretty politically-active members, too! A while back, I posted an entry about the Dixie Chicks and their film, Shut Up and Sing. And, since the summer, I've become increasingly supportive of Transgender issues (specifically, the Gwen Araujo murder case and what people are doing in memorium for her). So, here are some very well-made YouTube videos about those two topics.

"In Memory of Gwen Amber Rose Araujo" (by darkXsmile)


"Dixie Chicks Shut Up and Sing Trailer" (by ilovedixiechicks777)

Way too excited

I think I probably made myself look a little psycho in front of the librarians and all the other current inhabitants of the school library just now, but I was so excited about this article that I found on Advocate.com that I just had to share it with y'all.

Two weeks ago, when the December 19th issue of The Advocate arrived at my house, I was ecstatic because there was a little box in the top corner of one of the first pages saying that Loren Cameron, a famous (and terrific) Transman and photographer, whom I look up to, was going to write an exclusive commentary and post it on Advocate.com. So for the last 14 days (yes, I checked every day), I've checked that website to see if, by miraculous chance, the article was there. And it wasn't. But today was different, because today, THE ARTICLE WAS THERE!!!

I haven't read it yet--I've been too excited that it was finally posted. But here's the link to it if any of you would like to read it, too (it's really long, so I figured I wouldn't post it all here): http://www.advocate.com/exclusive_detail_ektid40003.asp

To my Chosen Family

After reading the most recent posting made by Alex (entitled "carpe dium quam minimum credula postero"), I knew that I just had to post this poem that I wrote here on my blog. It, again, is about cherishing the Chosen Family that we, as Trans-identifying people, need to find in order to keep our sanity, and, sometimes, our lives. This is not only for the Transmen and Transwomen in my life, but also to everybody who doesn't feel like they have anyone to count on or love, or who loves them back. Read this poem, and know that whoever you are, even if you do not identify as Trans, you are not alone.

“Affair (These Transgender hearts)”

I have love affairs with my siblings
Some intimate part of me belongs to each of them
And I touch them differently than other people
We hold each other tighter and longer
When we embrace
We press our lips against one another’s cheeks more tenderly
When we kiss
I love them in a way unlike I love
People whose lives I was dropped into as an infant
Because they don’t have to love me
We don’t have to care for one another
But we do anyway

We do not engage in romance in the traditional sense
We do not share candlelit dinners
We do not bathe together in warm water and fragrant bubbles
We do not cuddle naked on any rug on any floor
We do not make sweet love
But we still care very deeply for each other
In the truest, most passionate way
We keep finding true love
Again and again in the hearts of more and more people
These Transgender hearts that were so hurt for so long
No other affair has ever been as sweet
As the one I have with my Chosen Family

Frustration

...and it's not all of the sexual sort (if it was, that would make this whole situation a lot easier to handle). I think I've got a crush on someone that I know I shouldn't have one on. But he's so sweet to me. But he's years and years older than me. But age doesn't matter to me, especially now that I'm almost a legal adult. But it would matter to everyone else. But I don't worry about what others think now--I'm just myself, and I care about who I care about, and I listen to my heart about it all. And right now my heart's conflicted, because I don't know if I care about him more as a friend or as something else.

I guess I really shouldn't worry at all, because he hasn't said anything about there being any other definition to the term "us" for us than the platonic one we've already got, and I'm not going to say anything, and until he says something, I'm not saying anything. So I guess we might not get anywhere for a while. But I don't want to get anywhere right now. I just need good friends. And that's exactly what he is--a good friend.

So, I don't really know why I wrote this, but it felt good to vent. To whomever happened to read this and/or comment, thanks.

I've been tagged

Thanks to Willie Hewes, I have been tagged. Here we go. (And, Peterson, darn you for getting Alex! I don't know any other bloggers except for you, and Willie, and Alex, so it looks like I'll be tagging random folks elsewhere! But I still *heart* you ;)

1. My tic: My left hand twitches like crazy when I get over-excited about something.
2. My favorite spot on a man's body (or a woman's body, for that matter): The smooth slope from the top of the neck, right under the lower jaw, to the end of the shoulder. In effect, I suppose that spot would be called the noulder. (It's a very kissable, easy-access area :)
3. My phobia: Driving a car.
4. The food(s) I detest with negative passion: Cabbage, brussel sprouts, and anything baked with raisins or nuts.
5. When I had an imaginary friend: I had an imaginary friend from the time I was 3 or 4 to when I turned 11. Ze, interestingly enough, was a gender-bending individual, who was named Coop when ze dressed like a man and Callie when ze dressed like a woman.

I'm going to tag my good buddies Bear (of course), Blaze, Nick, and Norman.

Tranny boy's day out

I had a really, really terrific afternoon today. It was raining, yes, but that did not diminish the joy I had in spending time with Bear at all. We were never at a lack of things to talk about in the 2 hours we spent together, so that post from last week contained worries I needn't have come up with in the first place. Bear and I had lunch with my mother, and they got along quite well. They talked a lot about my college situation, and Bear said that ze knows that I could get into a bigger institution than just community college. I want to, as well, but I just don't know how to, what with my grades and our financial situation. However, that's a topic for another time, so let's just carry on, shall we?

After we had lunch, and my mother left to return to her job, Bear and I decided to get dessert. Ze got a pastry (which, I found out, was delicious, because ze gave me a bite) and I got a chocolate chip cookie (because I hadn't had one in a long time). Following that, we talked a bit more, and then jumped into Bear's car to drive around for a bit and try to find another place where we could talk. We found such a place at the local Thrift Store. There, Bear bought me 2 shirts (which I like very much), and ze also bought a couple of gifts for some of hir other friends.

Today I also spent some time with my friend Davey, and I think that we may have had our first "brotherly moment". Only recently have I taken to verbally referring to Davey as my brother, even though I've felt that kind of connection with him practically from the moment we met. But I felt extra connected with him today. We were sitting across from each other (him in his chair, and me on one of the 2 futons in his workplace) and we were talking about...something. He looked at me with a small smile, and I said something along the lines of "I'm proud that you're my big brother". And in a few seconds, I looked up at him (because I'd been looking at my feet as I said that to him) and he was still smiling at me the same way. But I thought I saw something different in his eyes that I'd never seen before--maybe, a hint of pride in the knowledge that he made such an impact on my life.

So I had a wonderful day. But, what's more, I finally came to a conclusion that I've been working on in this mind of mine for quite a while. I figured out that the reason that I like being with my Trans friends is not just because we have the common bond of being Trans, but also that I feel safer with them than I've ever felt with my biological family. And whatever Davey and Bear felt today (because I hope that Bear felt some pride in knowing that I look up to hir so much), I'm happy that they're parts of my life so that I can give them opportunities to feel proud of me. It's a great feeling when you realize that just something you said makes people that you look up to feel good about you.

The war rages on, but I'm not the only soldier on my side

The war at home has been a topic I've been tackling a lot in my entries on here (as you might have noticed), and it doesn't seem to be letting up at all (much like the useless war going on in the Middle East right now between Bush the National Idiot and the citizens of the countries he's trying to control, or annihilate). Graduation is simply too far away. But something that I can look forward to is my trip out to Georgia to see my brothers, Nick and Blaze (again, they were the boys I wrote "Brotherhood" for/about). Blaze and I had a short little chat about it, which basically consisted of me asking if they might have room for an extra Transman in their house this summer, Blaze thinking it was a great idea and asking Nick, and Nick saying "Sweet", clenching up our plans quite nicely.

I admire those two so much. They're the best family I could have ever hoped for. A little while ago, Blaze said yet another few words to me that proved to me that he and Nick believe in me and really care about me, and I think you'll agree when I say that they're the words that every struggling activist wants to hear:

You will be ok. You do have supporters even if we aren't right there next to you. You're tough. I know you can handle all this. Just stay strong.

I've got the best brothers EVER.

Oh, thank God

You Are 5% Redneck

I'll slap you so hard, your clothes will be outta style.You ain't no redneck - you're all Yankee!

How'>http://www.blogthings.com/howredneckareyouquiz/">How Redneck Are You?

I knew I wouldn't be any more Redneck-ish than this. *Phew*

But even if I was more of a Redneck, at least I'm a liberal one!

Mixed emotions

I'm experiencing a strange mixture of feelings this morning. I'm really happy because I've finished the first draft of my Extended Literary Analysis on Leslie Feinberg's books Stone Butch Blues and Drag King Dreams. My English teacher read it through and though he had a couple of notes about places I should look at and alter a bit, he really loved it. So that's uplifting.

But lots of things happening around me right now are not nearly as positive. I'm seeing Bear on Wednesday, and I'm really, really excited about that (yes (or, of course), still), but it's supposed to rain that day. And hard. Maybe if I keep hoping that the weather will change, and pray (and pray and pray and pray) for the sun to be out that day, it will be. I guess that sort of wishful thinking can't hurt.

Still, though, there are some events approaching that I'm having a hard time finding a silver lining in. For instance, on Tuesday, the school principal is coming to our GSA's meeting so that we can ask her questions about why she's being such a hardass bitch about us being visible in the school community. Our advisors have told us that we can't ask her attacking questions, but she's been both attacking and ignoring our group, and that feels really terrible. So she deserves to be called a bitch and be screamed at for her lack of support for our group. Then, that night, the school committee is holding a meeting in the library where the GSA will be discussed. We're a public school, so, according to my most-informed Trans friends and our group's advisors, we're legally allowed to have a GSA.

But something that is not legally backed is my current personal fight with the principal and vice-principal to have one of my Trans friends come and speak to my Contemporary Issues class in support of my project about discrimination of Transgender people. Apparently, very few other students are as interested in having a speaker come--usually, it's the teachers who schedule speakers to come for assemblies and to individual classes. But no one else has ever shown interest in having a Transgender person come to speak, so while I'm a trailblazer of sorts, my friend also probably won't be able to come for my Contemporary Issues class. I have a chance with having a couple of my Trans friends (my brothers, whom my post "Brotherhood" is about) come to speak in March to my English class in support of my Senior Project about Transgender Life, because it's a requirement for each student to have some kind of speaker(s) come into the classroom who know(s) about our topic. But I wanted to make a change for our school not only in my Contemporary Issues but in my English class as well.....I guess that's not going to happen.

Writer's Block lapse

As you have some idea of by now if you've been reading along, I had a pretty bad case of Writer's Block recently. But, thanks to my friend Davey, it is no more. There might be a lot of stressful stuff going on at school right now (and it has nothing to do with academics--the administration is a bunch of homophobic, transphobic dumbasses, basically), but Davey's been doing his best to keep up my spirits by giving me some creative writing homework. A few nights ago, he gave me an assignment to write a story about a Transgender person where the fact that they're Transgender isn't their biggest problem. I did the assignment, and this was/is the result:

“The Transgender Insomniac”


For the twelfth time that night, she watched the Hinder video for “Lips of an Angel” play on VH1, in all of its utter sappiness.

“So leave the chick!” Lily exclaimed, hurling an empty water bottle at her television. “God! Why sing a song for one girl if you’re still dating another?! Jesus! Men.”

“Lyle!” her father scolded, barging into her room. “Turn off that TV right now! Do you have any idea what time it is?!”

“It’s 3:30—I just checked the TV Guide channel. And have you ever heard of a little custom called knocking before entering?”

“Don’t get smart with me, young man. You’ve got school in four and a half hours! You know you can’t stay up this late on a school night!”

“Get the hell out of my room!”

“Go to sleep!” He slammed the door shut, making her framed autographed poster of Christina Aguilera fall to the floor. The glass shattered with an ear-splitting crash, but Lily didn’t care—it just made more mess for her dad to step on the next time he so rudely interrupted her nightly television watching.

“And stay out,” she muttered. She picked up a napkin and a pen from the floor and wrote herself a note.

REMEMBER to call Julie today and ask if she was able to get those Linkin Park tickets.

Yours truly,

The Transgender Insomniac

What would you do? Where would you go?

If you've been following along the last two weeks or so, I've been talking a lot about my new buddy Bear. We're seeing each other next week, and by now we've got lots of stuff lined up to talk about when we see one another. Ze has set aside a few hours just for me, but other than talking, what should we do? I just don't know! I know that few of you (well, maybe except for Peterson) know exactly what there is to do in Western Massachusetts, not including walking around and browsing in shop windows and going to movies and running into random friends, but, if you were to spend an afternoon with a particularly riveting, strong, proud, talented friend, what would you do together/talk about?

...**Yes, I'm aware that this was kind of a weird post, but I hope that y'all have been able to follow.**

Another rough day

I had a big confronation with my mom earlier today. It started as something stupid, about how I didn't want to stack wood for our wood-stove because I had a cold and my period, but it soon escalated into a bigger fight about my Transgenderism and how she never sticks up for me when my biological brother calls me a "queer" or a "faggot" in tones that are, of course, derogatory. I'm terrified to be around my bio. brother whenever he adopts these insane homophobic attitudes because I know, no matter what my mom says, that he is very much a homophobe and that, since he is quite a bit bigger (in terms of both weight and height), he could hurt me if he really wanted to. This image petrifies me, and I've told my mother that I'm really scared of him, but she won't listen. And what also scares me is that the only people who do listen and actually believe me are people who live from 45 minutes to 20 hours away, and if I get into a bad situation with my bio. brother and she's not home or she's sick or asleep and can't defend me at all, they can't protect me.

So I called a couple of friends after my mother told me to go back inside, and one of them was genuinely concerned but she couldn't talk long because she had to help another friend. Then I decided to call another friend--a Trans. friend. She calmed me down and let me feel her care for me like she always does whenever I'm really scared or sad. And she gave me some very helpful suggestions for how I might be able to deal with the situation with my mom and bio. brother better. But I still know that this is something I need to be strong enough to deal with without her by my side. I know that I'll always have her and my other Trans. friends to try their best to keep me safe and hide me from what could be traumatizing or dangerous, but they can't cover me up from all this forever, as much as we all might want them to, and that's what I need to start dealing with now.

Please never forget though, my cherished fellow Transmen and Transwomen, that I will always need you and love you very much. I just know that this is something I need to figure out on my own.

Brotherhood

I've got a couple of Trans. brothers in Georgia who are enduring quite a bit of criticism from an ex-friend of theirs, and I've been doing my best to support them, but it's hard because I'm obviously not there with them. So I'm doing everything I can, I guess. It's just that, they're my family, so naturally, I want to do whatever I can to help them. I suppose I am, just by reminding them that I'm here for them, but I still wish there were something else I could do. With that in mind, I wrote these sentimental, poetic paragraphs for them. I call this document "Brotherhood". Here it is:

When the people who welcomed you into the world first start acting like they don’t love you as much anymore, it’s hard to know where to go to next for support.
Do you run away from home?
Is suicide an option?
Or do you hurt the people who are hurting you, and leave yourself alone, because you know you’re the one who’s right?
Those were the questions that often ran through my head, rotating like luggage on those revolving conveyor belts at airports, until I was inducted into the Brotherhood.

I met my real family earlier this year. I was introduced to a couple of guys who, in a matter of minutes, became trusted acquaintances. After a couple of weeks, they taught me what the term Family really means. And in the last few months, I’ve learned how to be part of a Team, even if we live several states and many, many miles apart.

But now somebody deceitful is messing with them, and I’m not standing for it. I’m not keeping quiet. Because even if I can’t be with them, taking every blow in person as they do, we have a common bond that I’ve never felt before and never will again. And even if no one else understands it, our coveted Brotherhood is the most important, blessed friendship I’ll ever have.

Yesterday was good, but today...bleh...

Yesterday was amazing (as you'd know if you read my last post). But today there are dark gray clouds everywhere in the sky, my "little monthly friend" came (but once I start testosterone, that will all be overwith), and I have a cold. Bleh. Major bleh.

But, on the bright side, on December 13th (which is the next half-day my school is scheduled to have) I'm seeing my friend Bear and we're gonna eat a late lunch and spend the afternoon together, I get the whole house to myself for a few hours after I get home from school today (because my mom's still working and my brother has basketball practice), and my Extended Literary Analysis for my English class is going really well! I'm not just doing it on Stone Butch Blues anymore, though--now I'm doing it on both that book and Leslie Feinberg's newest fictional masterpiece, Drag King Dreams.

So I guess I really don't have liscense complain that much, huh?