Did that make sense? Every time I see my acquaintance S, I’m surprised to remember he was born female. To my knowledge, he’s entirely pre-op, but everything about him screams, “MAN.” (“Dick,” also, but that’s because I know what he did to my friend. >.>) It’s the way he moves and the way he talks… right until he says something that throws me for a loop. Usually some great excitement and he’s suddenly not-man for an instant, only I don’t think of him as feminine because it doesn’t quite seem feminine, either, I think of him as trans. (This is happening less and less over the last six months. Of course, I haven’t been talking to him much over the last six months, but… I can still hear him laugh when we’re in a group, and even that sounds more masculine.) Anyway; in my head, he’s a guy.

Then there’s the friends who are just starting their own trans process, and they have moments where they seem very masculine, and moments where they seem very… trans. Does that make sense? I think it might be insulting, and I’m extremely sorry if that’s the case. I think it’s probably one of those, “They say they are men, ergo they are men,” moments. Which I completely agree with. And at the same time, in my head their gender is transman.

Sometimes I feel a little crazy. It always makes me feel a little bad.

But then there are the transmen who seem to glory in being transmen, and have no interest in being men. They refer to themselves as transmen and they’re in that in between gender state; neither man nor woman, but something else entirely. That’s what I think of as trans.

I don’t know. It makes my head hurt. It kinda makes my heart hurt, too, because I suspect it’s disrespectful in some way, shape, or form, even if I don’t quite understand it. But I can’t understand it if I never talk or ask about it, can I? Cripes, this is like asking people to shoot me down… BUT… talk to me, folks. Is this normal? Can trans people out there tell me what’s up in my head in regards to gender and transman vs man? Or are there more genders being created that I don’t know about? Or is it just a learning curve? Because I definitely don’t know.

On a much funnier note, Q had shoulder surgery (it’s all good now!), and we got come on her sling. *snickers* It’s a black sling. Hilariously, it says “hand wash only,” and given whoever wearing it apparently has only one working hand… I think it’s a cruel joke!

J

…holy shit. That’s a lot of people looking at my stuff. o.O

Uh… Here! Have my favorite Christmas song!

(These are not the Irish Rovers. These are young guys being funny. So just don’t look at the video if you want to hear the song; you can laugh at the video after. )

And, uh, My Drunk Kitchen! She’s lesbian. And seriously cute. (Oh, Q, she doesn’t hold a candle to you, dear. )

J

So, Q is more knowledgeable than me about general women’s studies, but I’m more knowledgeable than her about femme specifically. Given she’s not femme, this makes sense to me. After one of my posts, she was asking me about femme as a gender and why it was transgressing gender boundaries, and I was trying to explain it. This is, edited, what I wrote:

I had a guy friend once say to me, “No matter what else, you can always claim ‘woman’ as an identity.” At the time I hadn’t even heard of femme, and had no idea about gender identity. Still, I was appalled and offended that he’d apply ‘woman’ to me. I couldn’t say why, only that, like you say, it didn’t fit. It makes me feel twitchy and horrible. When people refer to me as a woman I generally want to slap them. I don’t, because they don’t understand why, but it makes me feel awful.

Femme is a gender separate than ‘woman.’ (Let’s just say that if I’m going to refer to biological sex, I’ll say ‘male’ or ‘female’ — otherwise I’m talking about the genders. ) You kind of have to just start there — there isn’t any easy “here is what makes something a gender” sort of definition. What makes femme transgressing gender boundaries is… well, there’s lots.

The first thing that most femmes point to is the fact that it breaks the patriarchal hold on things. Femmes dress up and look nice NOT to attract or please men, but to attract or please other women, which is the first gender boundary broken.

Femmes also do it, much like butches, in the face of great prejudice from other lesbians: butches get attacked by hard-core feminist lesbians for giving into the male stereotype, but so do femmes. Just like butches, they’re seen as “selling out,” which isn’t something “normal” women have to deal with from other women. Straight women are expected to be feminine and it’s applauded if they are, and gay women are, mostly, expected to be really andro. So here, femme is transgressing gender boundaries; women as a gender aren’t dealing with discrimination for looking pretty, but femmes as a gender are.

There’s also a power difference between femmes and women. I’ve gotten pretty damn good at spotting a femme when I walk into a room, even if they’re not “high” femme. N is an obvious femme, for instance, even when she cowgirls up. Those women who, whether or not they look all girlish, are feminine in some way (even if it’s a tomboy way), but have that underlying steel are almost always femme. Femmes, when they state a preference, are typically deferred to. This is another of the gender boundaries that are broken. Women – lesbian and otherwise – tend to defer to masculine-centered people, but masculine-centered people tend to defer to femmes.

In a similar  trend, while many women are deferred to out of politeness, they are also expected to do “womanly” things. Not true of femmes: femmes might look all feminine, but that doesn’t make them delicate flowers who are restricted in their activities: a feminine woman typically won’t climb a tree in her skirt, or would be frowned upon if she did, but a femme won’t let the skirt stop her, and is generally encouraged in her boisterousness.

There’s a sexual component, too; femmes are seen as more sexual, more sexually powerful, and more sexually dominant in their relationships. You and I are a pretty good example: the majority of the time, your goal seems to be that I come first. In that sense, it’s seen as more important to make sure that the femme enjoys herself; after that it’s the butch’s turn. (Not so cut and dried as that, but I hope you get the idea!) With women and sex, it’s the guy’s privilege to come first, and hopefully he’ll then attend to the woman or let her attend to herself. Think about media: women are still seen as less sexual, less likely to come, and that’s considered okay. It’s not, however, considered okay with femme women. Again, it’s breaking gender boundaries.

Finally, femme takes all the things marked as female, and therefore weak, and makes them powerful. Women in a patriarchal society are seen as second class; femmes, especially in a femme/butch society, are typically first class and often deferred to. Again — by becoming anything other than second class, it breaks gender boundaries.

…[F]emme is typically a female gender, but it’s not the gender of “woman.” It’s gender bending because it’s a different gender on a female body. It’s very similar to woman, just like butch is very similar to FTM, but they’re both different things. Butch and FTM, and femme and women are similar in that they’re very close to each other, and sometimes the lines blur, but they’re still definitely different.

Ironically, this challenges my earlier assertion that anyone can be femme, because part of my very definition is that femmes are queer. A big part of it, in fact.

I was reading Butch/Femme: New Considerations of the Way We Want to Go recently, and noticing that they didn’t really seem to have a definition of femme, either. In fact, their biggest definition was that femmes were the counterpart to butches. (Not all of the articles said that; most didn’t touch on definitions at all, but those that did were often of this bent.) Now, this is an older book with older theories, and maybe what I need is some newer reading, but it got me thinking again about what makes femme? And what makes it transgender? Because most of the things I listed above are feminist, rather than femme, and I felt femme long before I understood feminism.

One thing I read over and over is that femme is a conscious act of gender, but I felt femme before I was consciously acting any gender. (I still don’t feel like I’m consciously creating a gender, but rather am expressing what’s always been there. I haven’t changed, I just found the right label.)

I think, though, that the question I really need to start with is: what’s gender? What makes something a gender? Dictionary.com has a lot of useless definitions. So, naturally, I went to Wiki. You want to know what Wiki says? Of course you do.

Gender is a range of characteristics used to distinguish between males and females, particularly in the cases of men and women and the masculineand feminine attributes assigned to them. Depending on the context, the discriminating characteristics vary from sex to social role to gender identity.

…

Sexologist John Money coined the termgender role in 1955. “The term gender role is used to signify all those things that a person says or does to disclose himself or herself as having the status of boy or man, girl or woman, respectively. It includes, but is not restricted to, sexuality in the sense of eroticism.”^[30] Elements of such a role include clothing, speech patterns, movement, occupations, and other factors not limited to biological sex. Because social aspects of gender can normally be presumed to be the ones of interest in sociology and closely related disciplines, gender role is often abbreviated to gender in their literature.

This makes me think I ought to look at this list (“clothing, speech patterns, movement, occupations”) and see if femme (and whatever else I decide to pick on) has its own gender. If it doesn’t, does it matter that it doesn’t fit that list, or does it still qualify as its own gender because it “feels” that way? And back to the oldie but goodie, is gender created or innate? Because it certainly felt innate to me when I stumbled upon femme.

I wish I had more time to read about stuff like this… And to examine that list in regards to femme. I wish I knew more femmes so I could examine them, too. >.> Jeez…

J

That last one is frustrating. I love it, it’s my favorite. HOORAY FOR FANTASY! WITH GAY PEOPLE! But I wrote it for Torquere Press, which is a gay romance publisher, and so it’s kinda romantic.

No, mostly it’s fantasy. With a subplot of love interest. But to make it publishable (and therefore sellable), I added sex. The thing is, it’s more fantasy than romance. I’d like to market it as fantasy… except that sex makes it officially romance/erotica, and that is SO ANNOYING. (Without the sex, getting it sold would have been MUCH HARDER, so I shouldn’t bitch too much. But I will, because…) It’s hard to get romance readers to read fantasy. It’s much easier to get fantasy readers to read romantic fantasy. In fact, they gobble it up.

So I’ve been contacting gay friendly fantasy review sites and pitching it, offering a free copy of the first story in trade for a review, but let me tell you: it’s kinda depressing. The third story in the series is out today, and each story is a little over 50 pages. So basically, there’s a novel out now. A short novel, but a novel. Only the romance fans aren’t sure about it because it’s fantasy, and the fantasy fans don’t know about it because it’s erotic. So incredibly frustrating.

…Anyone know gay-friend fantasy book review sites? >.<

Just for kicks, the series is:

Dragon Hunted

Getting eaten by a dragon wasn’t part of Ashe’s plan. Not that there was much of a plan to begin with, but it had definitely involved more chasing and less running. Ashe supposes there’s one good thing about all this: if he has to be trapped in a cave with a very large predator outside, at least he’s with Katsu, the company medic and Ashe’s current crush.

Even better, Katsu has enough knowledge of dragons and medicine that he might just be able to hatch an escape plan. Even better than that, Ashe is discovering that Katsu might not dislike him after all. It’s a small step, Ashe hopes, from not disliking him to something significantly more. That is, assuming they don’t get eaten first.

Dragon Traders

Getting abducted by slavers wasn’t part of the plan. Not that there was much of a plan to begin with, but it definitely involved more payment and fewer chains. Ashe can’t help but feel a bit of panic when the meeting to sell dragon eggs, which were hunted down weeks earlier, turns sour, and he ends up drugged, caged, and on his way to a land where elves are pets.

To make matters worse, the only person who has a chance of saving him is Katsu. Katsu, who after two weeks of sex is still an enigma. Katsu, who isn’t exactly the best combatant on the team. Ashe can only hope that this enigma might still have a few tricks up his sleeve, or Ashe’s fate is sealed.

Dragon Hatching

Becoming a host for a parasitic dragon wasn’t part of the plan. Actually, there wasn’t really any plan to begin with, but when the dragon egg hatches, Ashe figures it’s time to come up with one.

Katsu’s plans are failing miserably. His vast medical knowledge isn’t helping Ashe’s dragon situation, he’s having problems staying detached, and the other mercenaries are concerned about their lifeforce being sucked dry and want Ashe to leave. Katsu is determined that if Ashe leaves, so will he. First, though, he has to make sure that his people aren’t killed in battle… something they seem determined to do.

The first two in the series are 20% off right now, too!

And for the record, they’re actually selling well… I would just like them to get to a bigger audience. They’re good!

J

So last weekend Q and I went to Q’s ex to pick something up, and the kids were having  a playdate. The ex pulled us aside and said that she’d told the twins we were coming, and Jake (who will be 8 in Feb) went to his friends and bellowed, “My other mom is coming! She looks like a boy, and that’s okay!”

8 year olds FTW.

(None of the kids cared. *laughs*)

Anyway, also last weekend Q and I were again too tired for sex. There’s been a lack of sex in our lives lately, because of sheer exhaustion. Anyway, I didn’t really want to watch more TV, and I kinda wanted to mess around, so I suggested we pull out the sex cards, a normal deck, and play poker with the sex cards as chips. Q added sex scratchers, and we played! After a bit we decided that we could choose one card from the ones we won to cash in each round, but whatever activity could only last two minutes. It was awesome! (It also ended in sex, which was a bonus. )

It was a far cry from times when I could barely talk about sex, much less suggest anything or choose a card to suggest something I actually wanted.  It’s pretty awesome. AND, we had so much fun! What a great way to spend an evening.

J

My sister got married! For more hilarious stories on how awesome that was, click above. For the gay bits, read on!

For me, the best part of the wedding was the pressure to get married. Crazy, right? Who likes that, after all? It’s definitely not something most single people look forward to when they go to a wedding, but for me it’s a sign that my extended family is getting over the fact that I’m dating another woman, and they’re treating me like they would any straight niece or cousin. It was AWESOME.

Q didn’t show up until Friday night (the wedding was Saturday, and I was there by Tuesday.) Mark and Cathy — my favorite aunt and uncle — were there before I got there.

Things have been a touch strained with Mark since I started dating women. I knew they would be, but hoped that, like so many other things, he’d do the flip he does sometimes and end up in my camp. Usually, once something becomes personal to him, it’s not so bad! For instance, despite being rabidly right-wing, he’s pro-choice. My mom used us girls as an example one day, and he changed his mind completely on his pro-life stance. Things like that.

But religion is a strong factor, and he’s conservatively Lutheran. His wife, Cathy, has a gay sister — which hasn’t actually helped my cause, because her heart’s been broken by women. Never mind that everyone has their heart broken, Mark just sees this as proof that it’s not good to be gay.

Now, note that he’s never been anything but nice to me about it. It’s not what he says, but what he doesn’t say: he doesn’t ask how my love life or my girlfriends are, or if I’m dating, or anything else like that. He’s always kind to the people I bring home (all two of them, yes, shuddup), and he never says anything bad. Cathy told me once that he’s just worried for me, because being gay is a harder path in our society than being straight, and he just needs time. That’s okay, but I’ve still sort of been… waiting.

Anyway, Friday night was the rehearsal dinner, and Quin flew in right after it. I was talking about her — all week I kept trying NOT to talk about her, because it seemed like every other line out of my mouth had to do about her — and Uncle Mark was tipsy. He told me in that solemn-tipsy way that he really liked Q, because anyone who could make me that happy was good people. He (and my Aunt Cathy, at separate times) then proceeded to ask me if we were getting married, and if and when we got married could he play? (He played at Chelsea’s wedding, as she was walking down the aisle.)

I was totally touched. When Q got there, he was thrilled to see her. She danced with my Aunt Cathy at the reception, and Mark gave her a nickname: Rug Cutter. He even did his fist-bump with her; both are signs of high approval! And we were invited by both of them — again, separately — to come visit this spring. YAY! Everything very nicely fell into place, inside me. It was awesome.

Hilariously, despite KNOWING who Q was (in part because I was introducing her as my girlfriend), another cousin (sort of — my second cousin once removed) said it was nice meeting my friend. *amused* That didn’t bother me: I was really only worried about my Uncle Mark, and the rest I know how they’ll react. It IS nice that everyone, even the people who strongly disagree and fear for my soul, are being sweet. (My aunts weren’t always nice to my mom, and she wasn’t even gay!) Mac was kind enough to sit Q with people who’d like Q and she’d like them, so I had no worries there! (My bff, Danny, was at that table too. Mac told me at one point, “Yeah, I sat Q and Danny together. Then I realized that the only other gay person at the wedding was also at that table, and I thought, ‘What is this?! The gay table?!’ So I switched him.” I nearly died laughing.) One of my favorite cousins even came over and introduced herself to Quin while I was off doing something, but that wasn’t a surprise: I knew she’d be fine with everything. For all that I’m generally sure my aunts and uncles won’t approve but will at least be polite, I’m equally sure my cousins will be awesome!

Also, speaking of homophobia and weddings, check this out! I can marry either of my cousins Chasen or Taylor (my two unmarried male cousins), but I can’t marry another girl. So, so wrong.

Ugh, so annoying. Here, have this much more entertaining wedding picture. This was one of the weddings I went to this summer, where I was the bearer of the ring bearer.

Ha! I love that picture.

J

Anyway, it’s about my sex life! When Q and I first started dating, we humped like bunnies. All the time! For large blocks of time! A part of me was a little distressed at the large blocks of time, actually, because it was ALWAYS a large block of time and sometimes I didn’t have two and a half hours to dedicate, you know? But anyway, I’m digressing.

A while back — maybe 8 months ago? — Q was talking about her distress because we weren’t humping like bunnies so often anymore. I actually tracked it for a few weeks, just in my head, and came to the conclusion that we weren’t really having sex much less than before, and that we’d each realized the other wasn’t going to bail soon, so we didn’t have to have lots of sex out of fear it’d go away. (At least that was the case on my end!)

Since then Q stopped worrying about it, but I’ve started thinking about it. I think the big thing is that we’re both busier and more tired these days (which in turn makes me wonder — IS that the case? If so, why? What are we doing different? …I’m working a lot more, actually…), and we’re not doing crazy drives to see each other even if it’s only for an hour; we’re subconsciously hitting a maintenance schedule that we can keep up indefinitely. Which is a good thing! But I do miss having sex more often. Or… I think I SHOULD miss it, or I miss wanting it so badly. The thing is, I really am too tired most of the time to start something myself. And I don’t feel unsatisfied, I feel more like, in a perfect world, we’d be rested enough to have it more often. But I’m not rested, and my desire for it is more like a desire to have a desire for it, if that makes sense.

Just a few weeks ago I noticed that Q has been very wonderful and listened to me very well, so unless I’m totally frisky she doesn’t pounce me so often (as opposed to gently seducing me or anything else that doesn’t involve physically hauling me around). Which made me laugh, when I realized that her pouncing me is a total turn on, so even if I’m not frisky I’ll often become frisky. Pretty funny, how good communication worked against me, there! (Also, she’s extra tired too, lately, so she’s not in much of a pouncing mood. I can’t blame her — I wouldn’t be, either!)

Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m actually quite happy with our sex life, even at its slightly diminished state. We’re still like “normal” people, impressive since we live an hour apart. I think I worry sometimes that it’ll keep diminishing, though, even though when I stop and think about it I don’t believe that’s the case. Still, the concern lurks in my head. And because Q was worried about it months ago, I worry that she’s still worried! Ah, the inner life of a secret co-dependent-trying-not-to-be-co-dependent…

Anyway. These thoughts and feelings have been buzzing inside me. I would like more sex in an abstract way, but when I think about having more sex I’m like, “Whoa, no, way too tired to put forth that effort.” I’d really like more sleep. Then I could have more sex.

The good news is that we’ve finally gotten pretty good at having half hour sex, so we can have it when neither of us have energy for hour-and-more sessions. That makes me happy. Also, then we can have more of it, because I have more free half hours in my day than hour and a halves… Semi-quickies are a good thing!

In other news, my baby sister got married! And my uncle, my favorite uncle who’s been fighting his homophobia for me, says he looooooves Q because anyone who makes me that happy is awesome, and he’s pushing me to marry her. I never thought I’d be happy to get marriage pressure from my family, but there you have it. It’s like his subconscious has realized it’s okay, so now he’s adding pressure. A funny sort of won battle, hmm?

J

First off, I really liked the song. I still do! But second off, there was this idea (among lesbians, I should clarify, or at least the lesbians I knew) that to experiment like that was Wrong. That it was Terrible and Offensive to kiss a girl and like it. That the character in the song was just Faking It and making light of lesbianism.

I was terrified of being that girl. That was one of the biggest reasons it took me SO LONG to come out, because without experimenting I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t want to be the girl who said she was bi and experimented and realized it wasn’t for her. I was scared shitless of being a poser! (The other reason it took me so long to come out was a lack of butch people around. I think I’d have figured it out earlier if I’d seen some hot butches earlier!)

I love that song now more than ever. Maybe the character in the song was just doing it for attention. (Though I’d have to argue that her boyfriend doesn’t seem to be present… so it’s not his attention she’s trying to get, and presumably if she has a boyfriend she’s not looking for another.) Maybe the character in the song kisses that one girl, likes it, goes back to her boyfriend and never crosses that line again. Maybe that girl kisses a girl, likes it, goes home and dumps her boyfriend and realizes she’s lesbian. It’s all good! What’s actually happening in the song, after all?

Experimentation.

Except for a lucky, and precious, few we all have to experiment to figure out what we like and don’t like. We all have to try things on before we know what fits. That song told me it was okay to try things on, and I love it. It makes me sad when I hear people bash it as a girl getting attention — which is what I hear most of the time. I don’t think she is. I think she’s learning about herself!

Thinking about it a little more, I also wonder about the homophobic reactions to the song. I mean, if people are angry at hearing the song because she kissed a girl and liked it, how much of that is just being disturbed at the gayness of it? Hmmm.

I remember there being massive feminist reactions, too, that she was only kissing girls to get the boys attention. While I do know girls who do that, the fact that the feminist section of my friends assumed only that was kind of hurtful. What, she couldn’t be experimenting? Apparently not. She could only be doing it for men. Yeesh, what a thing to say.

Hmm, now I’m not sure how to wrap this up. Look! Ponies!

JB

I’m also taking off the moderation; I figure with a threat like that, people will probably behave. And if not, I’ll edit with impunity!

J

(Part of me also then thinks, “No they won’t! Reasoning is for the middle-of-the-road people, not the maniacs who’ve already made up their mind to one extreme or the other!” I’ve read WAY TOO MANY STUDIES on this kind of shit, and sometimes become my own worst enemy.)

But I try to be the better person and keep my cool. When I can’t, I try and walk away. And hey, I’m good at letting claws peek out while I’m smiling, anyway, or at least I think I am.  Though, in general, I try to be reasonable and not prick people… though I AM more likely to do it if it’s someone I don’t know. Less respect, less personhood for unknown people, you know? Same reason it’s easy to be an ass to someone online that you’ve never met: they’re faceless.

Anyway. Some (self-identified) masculinized-female is being a dick over in DK’s old blog. DK wrote this in his new blog: “My friends defended my honour and theirs with grace and cutting verbage,” and yeah, it’s definitely Nezu with the grace, because I am certainly not acting with any of that. (I like to think I have cutting verbage. >.>)

…I don’t feel particularly bad about it. I haven’t come right out and name called (though I did use the words “judgemental” “discriminatory” and various other socially-triggering things, but I don’t really care), but I certainly feel like the claws are out.

I have very sharp claws. I generally keep them sheathed, mostly because when I don’t I regret it. Either because I hurt someone and have Guilt, or because I kick myself later for burning bridges, or because I’ve been such a shit that I’m a little horrified at myself. So far, I’ve managed to travel the line that keeps me from being horrified at myself, and I don’t have Guilt.

The last time the claws came out was also over gender issues, on my blog — well, in comments that never made it to my blog, and then email. That person showed up here a while later to lambast me some more, and those comments didn’t go through, either (though I was sorely, sorely tempted, out of sheer spite. See, I would have felt bad about that – I’m guessing she didn’t think the comments would go through, since it was pretty much vitriol aimed at me. *sighs* And even over email and in the face of insults, I remained polite. I want a cookie, damn it). (It should be noted that I used something that person said as an example of a fallacious argument, so I wasn’t at all surprised I got the vitriolic comment/email… See, I’m really not so innocent. That would be claws-out-with-a-smile, because I never attributed it to her, I was polite in the email, and I didn’t pass her extremely nasty comment through to let everyone else see what a shit she was being…)

What is it about lesbians hauling off and being so very nasty to transpeople? (Is it supposed to be Trans people? I think I read that somewhere, but can’t remember.) I mean, I hear straight folk say some dumb-ass things, but I haven’t personally heard anyone straight say bitchy and outright insulting things. Lesbians, though, I’ve heard that to my face, as it were, twice, and overheard it other times.

Is it that FTMs are threatening? Making the already-small pool of possible partners smaller? Is it hard-core feminist lesbians who see FTMs as selling out? Is it that it makes us aware that, gasp, our own gender journey could not be finished and there might be MORE hard changes in store, and so it’s scary to see? Is it that lesbians are like everyone else, and things that are very different alarm them?

Probably all of the above, to one extent or another.

Anyway. I feel like a bitch in the 1700′s, when conversation was everything. When if you wanted to say something truly mean, you still found a pretty way to say it. I’ve failed spectacularly in being the better person, but at least I’m saying it with confidence and in thoughtful, creative ways. *wry smile*

J