Wishing To Be Myself

This is a LiveJournal entry I just ran across while searching for something else. I am a bit amazed how things have not changed much in this quarter in the past four years - yet there have been some profound changes as well. (A girl can't be around some of the men she has met lately and NOT be changed by them.)

So this is an entry from October 6, 2004:

Hi. I'm a girl. You know, a human of the feminine variety? Female. FE-male.

Oh, I know I don't look like it. I look kind of androgynous. Like it says in a profile somewhere: Some Strange Runaway. I don't act it, either, as has been pointed out to me numerous times by now-ex-boyfriends who decided they wanted Little Miss Pretty Princess 24/7. (Eddie, believe it or not, being the only one in the past 15 or so years who didn't try to wheedle me into that image. Wheedling won't work. There are *other ways* to convince me, thanks...)

For years I've had to deal with drunks, with people freaking out on drugs, with wackos in general... usually by myself. I've always been the "strong" one, the crazy chickwho knew when to get in someone's face, and when to just go call the cops. The one who always had to take care of everything at home, and who got to make the phone calls or the quiet pull-asides when people needed to be told about a death. The one to keep a cool head during an emergency, and the one who "did what was neccessary" when needed.

So I suppose that kind of makes me not-a-girl, hunh? I kind of look like one, but I guess that's all. Well, wait... when it behooves male friends to remember my gender, they do so. You know, like "You can't go on the fishing trip... no women allowed!" "Why do you want to go to a strip club? You're a girl!" "You can't go into the city (Manhattan) by yourself! You're just a girl and you have no idea how dangerous it is out there!" Any other time, I'm just one of the guys, though. Which, don't get me wrong, is very cool.

But sometimes I want to be softer and seem more vulnerable, I guess. It would be nice for a change.

All Souls' Day

I am considering hopping on the Blue Line and going up to Los Angeles today. It is still rainy outside, and that is a nice change, believe it or not. (Actually, I just peeked out and see fluffy poof-clouds that look like huge cotton balls floating around and letting the bright blue of the sky color the scene every so often. Very, very nice.)

Then again, I've got a major bit of work to do on my NaNo novel. It got shoved to the side yesterday in questionable favor of homework and a paper I needed to write. How dare this happen! And in November... gah!

I don't think I will be going out the back door, however. Two guys from the third floor are bringing huge pieces of furniture, La-Z-Boy type things, out onto the fire escape and rolling them over the railing, letting them fall about 20 to 25 feet into the back alley. They land with a loud, cracking thump-whoosh into the filthy oil-shiny water and wait as one by one they are dragged to the opposite corner to hopefully be picked up by the trash collectors.

I am just thankful they decided against stacking the furniture against my wall again.