Dental what?

Okay, so I got the safe sex talk in school. Abstinence!condomsbirthcontroldiaphragmsblahAbstinence!

Anyone else get this kind of health class? Joy for Arkansas education. Because teens totally aren't having sex- that's why my high school had a daycare for all the teen mothers, not to mention two pages in the yearbook.

Fact is, they were. And all the little straight kids and gay boys got a healthy enough dosage of information about condoms, though it was usually suggested by teachers and whispered by peers.

What about all the lesbians in the class? Or straight guys, for that matter.

I've yet to meet a lesbian who practices safer sex, at least in terms of using a dental dam or some equivalent. I've had the most educated of lesbians tell me that it's okay, since women have such lower chances of "catching" anything.

Uh huh. Just like gay men didn't really need to worry about safer sex because, after all, they weren't risking getting anyone pregnant. Then *poof* AIDS.

I'm not saying that's how the AIDS epidemic went down. I'm just trying to make a point. AIDS showed up out of nowhere, devastating an entire generation of gay men.

Just because we don't have penises doesn't mean there isn't some new, life threatening disease waiting on the horizon to attack the cunning linguists of the world.

I know I'm paranoid, but really, anything's a possibility in terms of new diseases.

And for that matter, there are plenty of diseases to be caught now, just through oral sex, including herpes, syphilis, and hpv (not a disease, okay, but a virus that can cause cervical cancer. Ick.)

However, since we don't have to worry about getting knocked up, and since we're considered a "low risk group" for contracting HIV, we don't bother with safer sex. We don't talk about it; it's an uncomfortable subject.

For that matter, while I'm on the soap box, let's talk about gynecology visits. According to some websites, lesbians are less likely to seek regular gynecological treatments. After all, the main reason most women go is so they can acquire birth control, which isn't a problem so much.

Newsflash: a penis doesn't have to touch you for you to have gynecological problems. Tumors, cysts, endometriosis- these are all problems which can be left untreated if you don't go to a gynecologist or if you're open with him/her/other about your sexual history. If your doctor makes you uncomfortable, get a new one. If you worry he'll have problems with your sexuality, then 1. Who cares what he thinks? and 2. Get a new doctor.

So. Try at least to be aware of safer sex practices, and get your cunt checked out. The end.

On Community

This weekend, my bff from high school and I are going to the NWA Pride Parade. In August, I'm hanging out with some friends at Diversity Weekend in Eureka Springs.

Behold. My extent of"community" support.

I guess I've never been much of a joiner, but I do try to get more involved in the tiny gay community in Arkansas. I'm a member of the GLBTQA organization on campus- that conveniently only meets when I'm in class/fraternity meetings. I wrote Lambda 10 about my fraternity having a non-discrimination clause that includes sexual orientation. I even tried volunteering for the NWA Center for Equality, but I chickened out/panicked and never showed up at the offices.

My heart's in the right place. I want to help promote tolerance and understanding an all things PC. But maybe I just haven't felt the brunt of that discrimination yet. I mean, I've only had two bad coming out experiences- my mother, who's still a little freaked by the prospect that I like vaginas, and a girl I was planning on rooming with who completely lost it. Oh well.

Maybe it's that I've never really felt like "a lesbian." I've never actually come out as a lesbian to anyone. I usually just say that I'm gay, or, better yet, that I'm attracted to girls. Honestly, most of the time I don't get along with girls, so I worry that trying to be friends with lesbians will only end in a train wreck.

Furthermore, the "community" in NWA is centered around Fayetteville, and I'm most definitely not. It seems like I'm trying to join a club where everybody knows everyone, and I'm the little kid on the outside.

Yes, little kid, because I don't see a lot of people my age working with the NWACfE, or working the Pride parade. And I wonder if this is an Arkansas trend, or a national one.

I mean, I know a lot of gay/bi students at my college. But few of them actually belong to our GLBTQA group, even though they're out. Maybe, since we've all grown up in a more tolerant generation, the need to fight for rights doesn't seem as pressing.

Besides, we're young right now- too young to be worrying about marriage or adoption rights, or dying and leaving a partner of twenty years out on the streets due to a malicious family. All we worry about right now is meeting that person.

Or, meeting a lot of persons for a lot of short term fun until the gray hairs start showing.

I think larger, metropolitan areas have a stronger political community composed of people in their twenties. I'd love to see this happen in Arkansas, but I don't think it will until we stop chasing tail and start settling down and worrying about the rights we lack. And I know I'm not ready.

But I also remember the first Diversity Weekend I attended. With my parents. On accident. At seventeen, with my two best friends who were also in the closet. I remember losing my parents at some point, and getting crammed in for a photo at the park, surrounded by happy, gay adults. It made a difference to us then, and I'd like to think that the community now makes a difference to teens. I'm just not sure how.

And the Wind is Always Shifting

"Straight Edge" by Minor Threat

But I've got better things to do,
Than sit around and fuck my head,
Hang out with the living dead.
Snort white shit up my nose,
Pass out at the shows.
I don't even think about speed,
That's something I just don't need

I've got the straight edge

I'm a person just like you
But I've got better things to do
Than sit around and smoke dope
'Cause I know I can cope
Laugh at the thought of eating ludes
Laugh at the thought of sniffing glue
Always gonna keep in touch
Never want to use a crutch

I've got the straight edge."

I've said before that I was once one of those annoying "AFI is God!" kind of fan girls. (In my defense, they were tied with Ani Difranco).

However, I was also a Straight Edge kid then, and took it all very seriously. Just as I was destined to always wear only black, I was also destined never to drink, smoke/use drugs, or engage in casual sex.

Oops.

I tumbled off that pillar of morality slowly- then very, very fast. And I woke up about a week ago to realize how far I've gone.

Well, the good news is that I haven't smoked in about nine months, haven't drank in three, have never done drugs, and usually have no trouble avoiding the casual sex part.

For a split second, I considered "reclaiming" edge. Aaand then I read this post, and remembered why I was uneasy with being edge in the first place. Aside from the general bitchiness, it made me realize that I just don't belong in this scene anymore. Like when my best friend from high school and I decided to go to Warped Tour this summer. We checked the band list and realized we didn't know half the bands performing. We've been out of the loop.

We outgrew punk. Hell, I outgrew being a crazy little hippie. So I look at my opinions on gender and breaking down the gender dichotomy, and I wonder: Will I lose this belief too? Is this just another phase/scene?

I like to think it's not, because I've never felt more comfortable in my skin- though, after feeling so masculine for so long, I was freaked out when I woke up one day feeling girly. Part of me worried that, if I gave in to that effeminate longing for the day, I'd be breaking some promise to myself.

Well, fuck that. That's the old punk vs. poser mentality I adhered to in high school. How I feel that day is how I feel, and I don't care what other people think.

I should live my life less by trying to adhere to the same appearances and tastes all my life, and instead expect people to view me more like Ani Difranco in "The Million You Never Made:

"I am warning you I am weightless,
and the wind is always shifting,
so don't hang anything on me
if you ever want to see it again.
I am telling you I'm different than you
think I am."

When Tomboys Grow Up

(Inspired by being stuck at home all summer and this book.)
I didn't stand a chance really.

I grew up on a small farm in Podunk, Arkansas as the only child of an only child. Until I was ten, the only other child on my road was the boy next door. We were born a month apart.

So, naturally, we played what boys played. I still had Barbies. I played with them by myself, concocting long, drawn out tales about parole officers and running from the law.

I know, I was strange. But my parents encouraged my imagination, and after a few botched attempts at all-girl playdates, let me hang out with the neighbor boy- and all my elementary school guy friends.

Fast forward to high school, where I'm a tuba player- yet again one of the guys in a group of friends. As in, one of the guys had a "no girls allowed" birthday party- except, of course, for me.

I like to think subconsciously that my parents knew about me. I mean, running out at three in the morning to drive around town in a car full of boys? Fine. Spending the night at my one female friend's house watching movies? They threw a fit- which is understandable to them in retrospect, since I spent most of high school following her like a lovesick puppy.

The problem is, I'm not a ten year old brat trading Pokemon cards or fighting with stick swords. And I'm not a teenager staying up late to steal traffic cones or talk about starting a band.

I'm twenty, and I'm having a bit of a crisis. Exactly what do tomboys grow up to be? How do we stay happy and keep those around us happy? Is it even possible?

I don't want to give in and learn how to become a pretty, proper woman. Besides the fact that I hate the idea of buying into gender roles like that, I also have a twenty year learning curve to face.

Plus, I've realized that coming out to my mother was probably one of the worst mistakes of my life. She's always accepted my tomboy nature because, being honest, she's a bit of a tomboy herself. I think she feels that, because I like women, I'm threatening her sexuality or something. As if I'm made in her image.

I get straight A's while doing two majors with course overload every semester. I have three jobs- one during the school year, two in the summer. I'm an officer in a very busy music fraternity. I mow my grandma's lawn, and I buy all my vegetarian food (anything not packaged or meat). I depend on my parents for nothing. No tuition, no allowance, no trips to visit me at school.

I just depend on their approval- specifically, my mother's. And after coming out to her, I feel like nothing I do is good enough. I'm working my ass off to go to a good grad school, and she's just upset that I'm moving even farther away. She complains incessantly about me going to school two hours away, but is encouraging her best friend to send her daughter to school nine hours away- at a school where, unlike me, the daughter is not being paid to attend.

I see my future, what makes me happy, and I'm beginning to realize that, for all their insistence that whatever makes me happy makes them happy, I'm never going to be perfect for them. So now I've come to a crossroads. It's tempting to drop it all, marry some nice boy, take the online graduate program and work at the local library that I've been volunteering/working at for ten years already.

I know this is the life they want for me. I also know I'd probably shoot myself in the head five years down the road. So, I'm considering, after I graduate college (if I last), completely cutting off contact with Arkansas. I know that being at school and away from home has already made me feel much better about myself, and allowed me to explore becoming an adult independent of my parents' beliefs and criticisms.

But walking out on them means walking out on that rare stamp of approval from another human being. Walking out means learning to trust my judgment alone and not caring if I screw up. Walking out means learning to not give a fuck.

And maybe that's what happens when tomboys grow up.

Profile: Lucas Silveira of The Cliks

Lucas Silveira is probably the most well known FTM transgendered musician in rock music today.

Never heard of him? Exactly.He's not particularly well known in the music scene at large, and it sometimes feels like the media is using his transgender identity as a focal point rather than his music.

You know, kinda like I am. And I will get to the music. But first, I have to point out how open he is about being transgendered. In the about.com interview listed below, he says that he welcomes questions about his gender, but can only speak for himself. Very PC.

Plus he talks about his choice to not take testosterone. I have a friend who considers this a cop-out, but I disagree. I see it as being similar, on another level, to my longtime desire for a lip piercing. Yes, I want my lip pierced. But I'm also a music major who plays tuba, and I know that a lip piercing will seriously set back my playing to a point that I may not recover.
Of course, taking testosterone is more than something cosmetic like a piercing, but I still see his view. He loves music and is willing to deal without testosterone rather than risk that which he loves. Kinda romantic, actually.

His music? Not so much. Granted, I've only listened to Snakehouse in full, but I've heard a couple songs off Dirty King. Aside from the sweet acoustic track, "If Not for You" and the loyalty promised in "Whenever," most of Silveira's songs are darker and a little on the disillusioned side when it comes to love.

Which means he's now my idol. His voice does sound a little awkward at times, but I like the sound of it overall. And he wins points for comfortably singing higher than I can.

One thing that concerns me is that he runs through band lineups so quickly- I mean, every album has had a different backing band. He's admitted that he's a perfectionist, which I get, but I can't help but worry that, with a little fame, he could become a diva.

But then, maybe he just doesn't play well with others- I know how that goes.

Overall, I recommend his music for good pissy rock-out-in-your-bedroom-with-an-air-guitar evenings, and I recommend the man himself as a rolemodel for trans rock musicians.
About.com Interview
Another blog's interview
Spinner Interview
Dirty King Music Video

To Queens

I love gay men. I've noticed that, before college, most of my non-straight friends were gay men, and that I only associated with lesbians when I was interested in them. In college, the token Queen of the marching band took me under his wing, partially because I was horribly awkward and in the closet, and partially because he had the hots for one of my friends.

Of course, I've always been one of the boys. It's just nice having boys who are often a little more in touch with their feminine sides, if for no other reason than that I feel less silly when I'm in touch with mine.

The past few days, I've been surprisingly effeminate- I say this in honor of my roommate, who once told me I was often "effeminate" but never really "feminine." My hips swish, and God help me, I actually like my long hair that I'm usually debating cutting off.

This is always a disturbing feeling, like the first time I got tipsy around boys and started paying entirely too much attention to member of the men's music fraternity. The next day, I freaked out. I thought he was hot. What did that mean for my sexuality?

Then I decided it really didn't matter. Desire, actions, and identity are three separate categories and, while related, don't always have to fall perfectly into place. I know straight girls who kiss girls, straight boys who kiss boys, and gay girls who sit in the laps of boys with questionable sexuality to tell them how pretty they are (guess which one I am!).

I just wish I could have this same attitude towards gender. Sexuality is one thing; with the growing media attention on sexuality, accepting sexualities outside of the Beaver Cleaver norm is becoming easier. But gender is firmly ingrained in our culture, and it's hard to escape.

Still, it shouldn't matter. Some days I feel like a tomboy. Some days I feel like a boy boy. Some days I feel like the world's most effeminate queen. Roll with it.

I think that, at the end of the day, I'd rather come off as effeminate/androgynous than butch. Queens have more fun. Just look at Emmett from QAF:

My Vagina and Me

"I want to have a penis," my best friend recently told me.

"I want to have a strap-on," I replied, since I've spent the past several days obsessively researching the different types, all to no avail. Having used one before, I found the idea of one extremely erotic.

But a real penis? Not so much. No offense to those who own them, but I find them kind of... well, icky. Vaginas are beautiful, and penises are just there.

But that's just me. And that's partly why I think he's trans whereas I'm not.

I've never really had a problem with gender dysphoria, or at least I don't now. I mean, I was miserable throughout puberty, what with the boobs and the strange body hair and the monthly expulsions. But I handle it all pretty well now, I like to think.

And I like my vagina. It looks good, and more, importantly, it feels good. Kate Bornstein commented in Gender Outlaw that hir penis was not a problem per se except for the fact that society told hir to lose it if zhe wanted to become a "real woman." Now, of course, zhe realizes that what's between hir legs is not indicative of gender at all.

I've come a long ways in terms of accepting the girly bits, though discovering sex certainly accelerated the process. The point I've reached that I'm stumbling over now though? It's the cup. *cue dun-dun-dun music*That is, the menstrual cup. I recently purchased one off Ebay, and I'm trying to work up the nerve to try it out. I only tried tampons about six months ago, and while I loved escaping the grossness of pads, tampons tend to wreak dried out havoc on my body.

So, going with the instructions (Size small is for women under twenty five who have not had children), I bought a size small cup. Only now I'm reading from some women that they prefer the large cup due to heavy periods or the fact that they are sexually active.

Now, I understand that my period is fairly light, but I also understand that I'm pretty sexually active, and that my vagina is one flexible area. So I'm torn on whether to go ahead and send it back, or try it out and hope for the best.

Being perfectly honest, it's not a matter of being comfortable so much as a matter of my being a cheap skate. But then, I'm a poor judge of my own vagina. Does my cervix set low? And am I sexually active enough to warrant a large cup? Where's the line there?

My transman friend is suitably freaked out by the prospect of this cup and the idea of wearing it. I understand that. It requires you to be intimate with your body during a really shitty time of the month.

But I also understand that I'm absolutely terrified of TSS and find tampons to be expensive/gross. The fact that I hurt when I try to insert a large tampon makes me think I should go ahead with the small model.

Plus, I wear boxers typically (comfy, modest, and the silk feels very nice), and boxers are not made for pads. So, usually my period (already a sucky painful time filled with strange emotions and an inability to consume dairy) is also marked by the itchy marks left by wearing girly underwear to accomodate the pad.

In a couple weeks when my happy happy time rolls around, I'll be sure to try my cup out, and report on how it goes, and if I can be that up close and personal with my ladybits.