Go Do Molly

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Dr. No is a No!

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Two wildly different encounters

The last few days have been hectic, and while I haven’t left the house much since the Tuesday before Christmas (it is now Sunday after), I had two distinctly different experiences being read as a woman.

You heard it right, it seems like twice I have not been clocked, at least not in the beginning.

The first time was more expected by me. The hubby and I were in the grocery store trying to pick up the last bits of food for upcoming Christmas Dinner (on Xmas eve, that is when we celebrate it). It was a wednesday and it wasn’t packed so we hurried on out to Safeway.

As we wandered the aisles, the hubby stepped away to get some cheese I believe. Meanwhile, I was bent over and crouched down reading the different egg nog labels in an end-cap, near a group of Safeway workers who seemed to be hauling stuff from the warehouse.

I couldn’t tell you what caught my attention, but I heard one guy (turned out to be an older, shorter guy) talking to another. I heard him say “Check her out.” I am not sure what made me start to turn and stand up, but I did.

As I turned to stand I could hear the guy start whispering harshly, “Don’t turn around, don’t turn around, don’t look.” Just as the older man finished speaking I had stood up and turned around to see what was going on, just in time for a young man, maybe in his early twenties who was standing next to me, to turn around towards me and bounce off my boobs.

The older man fled, I swear he was almost jogging to get away as I bounced back. I had seen that the younger male hadn’t even heard the older male’s words, instead his face had been fixated on my chest (I forget they are 38H, probably dysphoria) and had been so fixated on seeing what the older guy had done that I think he literally had taken a step forward, not realizing how close I was, or that I was standing up and moving towards him.

The young man’s faced became incredibly red as he quickly apologized and retreated back into the warehouse. Part of me was annoyed, I had never done that as a guy and I found the hubby to bitch about it.

It wasn’t until I was talking with him that I had assumed wrongly. I thought they were checking out the “trans girl”, but he pointed out that no, I probably wasn’t clocked in that short time and they were just acting like guys seeing boobs.

I was both weirdly annoyed and pleased about the situation. No guy should act like that, and being objectified sucks. However, it did help reassure me that maybe someday I can pass more fully. Part of me likes that objectification because it somehow proves my efforts.

The second time happened a couple hours ago when I dumped a couple of bags of garbage and a small light that died. I had gotten out of my car at the garbage area. A small meth-ridden homeless man stopped me and asked me if he could have the light. I had no problem and after talking with him I gave it to him and moved back to my car.

That is when I caught behind the garbage area (it is a walled off area) was a guy that lives in the complex with a large pit/mastiff type dog. He had been watching carefully, and it wasn’t until then that I realized as he smiled and walked off, that he was watching out to make sure I was safe.

Both the hubby and I are pretty sure he hadn’t clocked me, and that he was just making sure that the woman wasn’t harassed by the homeless guy. I almost argued with the hubby that it couldn’t be that, but the hubby was right, I wouldn’t have waited around if a guy was dumping garbage, when I was still a boy, unless something was really wrong.

Evidently the guy with the dog either thought I was cisgender, or maybe he was still worried about my feminine appearance enough that he stayed around anyways to watch over it. Either way I found it strangely nice that he had registered me as someone that needed to be watched over.

Don’t get me wrong, at 6’2″ I don’t think I was in any danger from the homeless guy, but there is something about that treatment that reassures that at least people see a feminine person when they see me. I will undoubtably get tired of the staring at my boob thing in the store, and maybe of the watching over me, but either way, that was twice this week that I was at least partially treated like someone who I feel I am would be treated in this society.

Reviewing Stuff

I have always liked writing reviews. This could be on Amazon for stuff I bought, on Meta Critic for movies or video games, or on Good Reads for books I read. It really didn’t matter, and I never thought I would be famous or make money on it, I just like doing it.

Up until I couple years ago I had a blog with several hundred media reviews called Red Band Station. The one problem I always had was writing something succintly. I tend to write on, and on (and you are probably familiar with that with my other writings). I eventually shut it down and just kept my blog.

I decided I still want to write stupid little reviews, but I thought a way to force this would be to write twitter reviews for media and anything else that came to mind. So I now started a stupid little twitter just for reviews, which I will probably crosspost here.

I have wanted to do reviews over entire series of things, it doesn’t matter if it was a 200 episode tv show, or a set of movies. This will let me do it without trying to take it too serious. After all I have no education in movies, theater, etc. All my opinions are from my poor white trash upbringing, and my more refined LGBTQ opinion nowadays.

So that was it, I just wanted to tell you that review tweets will probably be crossposted here, and I will eventually figure out how I want to organize them, but that is that.

🙂

Dreams: Grumpy old Auditor

Last night I woke up to a bizarre dream that had been happening on and off. I am not fully awake so I apologize if this is choppy, but it’s better to get my dream out than wait to wake up all the way.

It started by me being with a large group of auditors, I can’t tell you how I know that, it just felt like that. We were in a library or something like an old bookstore. A lot of books on the shelves, but we were not working. I was some sort of supervisor or lead auditor. We were almost military, at the very least some sort of Department of Defense auditing situation (but not my actual job at the DoD).

I realized this wasn’t at an audit site, and we technically weren’t working either, which the small part of me that recognized this was a dream was confused by. It was everyone’s off time yet we were all together and I was watching over what felt like “my little ducklings”. It felt very much like when I would watch an old ex-marine coworker who would travel with us, count everybody every time we entered or left a room to just make sure everyone was there. Someone who stepped in to guide the ducklings

While we were there, I noticed there were arguments and the normal fucking around occurring. That kind of banter from people that are around each other most of their days. After some talking the scenery shifted and we ended up in a restaurant. People kept coming to meet to fix things and I can’t being grumpy and tired, but I tried to be kind to them and help.

The dream flipped and we were inside some sort of theater. In a setup of steep stadium seating type situation, we were up towards the top and in the back. There were maybe 20 or so auditors, and I felt like all of them were much younger. It really did have that dual feeling of new soldiers and an old sergeant, mixed with a bunch of young auditors with an old grumpy auditor watching over it.

We were talking and the group was being rowdy. There was no movie at the time, and the upper area had a set of sinks, garbage and almost a rec area. No one else was in the theater (not sure if movie or live action theater). Whatever was about to play was starting and I told everyone to be good and I crawled over to a couple of chairs and settled down to take a nap.

I was awakened once by a younger female auditor who was trying to be too chummy and I directed her back to her seat with a snap of my finger (for some reason it reminded me of my hubby’s RPG character and the maidens that sometimes followed him around). I wasn’t going to broke any more nonsense from them.

I was then awoken by a bunch of the younger people because there was some sort of commotion going on at the sink. I got up grumbling and most of the auditors scattered from me when they heard my voice. I walked over and yelled at one of the auditors go sit down and found the other person they were arguing with was my little brother who was inside the sink cupboards. Somehow I knew he had been part of the group at the restaurant and library as well (but I didn’t remember seeing him earlier in the dream).

We had to pull him out of the plumbing and he was still trying to argue with the auditor. Some reason my brother was supposed to be there, maybe he was another auditor but I couldn’t be sure. When he got out I yelled at both of them for being loud fuckwits and interrupting my nap.

The other auditor went and sat down, my brother bitched at me a little about me being a jerk about it but I dismissed it and sent him over to another seat. Most of the auditors seemed to divide up and sit around either my brother or the one he was arguing with. I then went to sit back down mumbling, when a cute little auditor girl sat next time, started talking to me. All I wanted to do was take a nap and as I turned to say something to her, I woke up annoyed at my brother.

Obviously I am processing both stress and my brother. This is the first Christmas in awhile that he hasn’t called with something going on. Definitely not like last year when he was in Las Vegas and everything was melting down as he had a broken foot, in a wheel chair with no money and on some sort of run, it really sucked.

2020 Project 365 – 10 October

October 2020

Mostly our electrolysis trip to Phoenix and a lot of our cat.

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Facebook Jail

Let’s preface this that I am fucking amused by this, but I had to post because I evidently need attention this morning 🙂

Evidently, I am in Facebook jail and am serving 19 more hours here. I have been out defending a bunch of transgender people (specifically two trans guys), and it turns out Facebook doesn’t want to support when people are called slurs using the T word, or various other debasing words.

The sad fact of the people I most recently got into a flame war with, one of them was an older white man attacking the trans guys, and a middle-aged trans woman attacking another trans guy. Fuck them both and their racist, sexist and transphobic asses (yes, a trans person can be transphobic). Also, I probably have a soft spot for trans guys… not sure why that is…

I must have really pissed one of them off as I have gotten more than two dozen comments of mine reported (new and older), but they only upheld two of them. The weird part is the two of them are not the harshest comments I have made. So not sure what the algorithm’s decision was.

The first was for evidently performing hate speech on myself… yes on myself.

Yes, I got facebook jail for calling myself 100% poor white trash from a trailer park…

We were in a discussion about using random cans as measuring cups. The original poster called himself a hillbilly and I mentioned yep not only hillbilly (ok it was hillybilly, that was autocorrect) I continued to say, 100% poor white trash from the trailer park here and we had something similar… evidently that counts as hate speech on myself. How the fuck is that hate speech?

The second one was maybe a little more appropriate, although I don’t think harassment and bullying when the person originally started calling me names (including calling me an “it”) and I called them an idjit and said “fuck you”. But hey, they are an old white male, why not defend them Facebook, I am sure you don’t think calling someone an “it” is harassment.

I don’t feel bad about telling him to fuck off, nor do I feel bad about Facebook Jail. I actually hate Facebook with a passion, but several of my friends and family don’t use any other social media source so it is what I use.

I will try and remember to post when I do the submitting of comments for hate speech against trans and other LGBTQ/minorities and give you the resulting mincing of “doesn’t go against our services”. I didn’t think of doing that, and now I am kind of too lazy to search for it to show older ones.

Also, if I get dumped off Facebook (or maybe even rage quit) that isn’t a big deal either. I have lots of other social media presence and maybe I won’t be so stressed.

I just wanted to share on social media, about my social media jail in a specific platform (I wonder if this effects my instagram… I suspect not).

Outrage at Proud Boys and Rainbows

I will completely admit that I found it amusing a few weeks ago when gay men started posting pictures of themselves holding hands, kissing, being intimate, and tagging it Proud Boys. I noticed though sometimes it bothered me as well, I couldn’t place it. It wasn’t the gay men that bothered me, it was the cis-gendered straight white dudes, but I didn’t realize that at the time.

Fast forward to yesterday when I was on Facebook and a good friend, who absolutely had no ill intentions, posted an image of two men holding hands. I completely admit it, yes I love to watch Proud Boys members squirm. I think they are ridiculous, and I also admit that isn’t the high road.

Proud Boys image that was posted
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Dreams: Old Warehouse

The dream is mostly fading away, but it involved me wandering through an old abandoned warehouse or large supermarket (I am sure this is directly linked to watching one of my LPs with hubby in Last of Us 2 when exploring the abandoned supermarket). I don’t think I was any younger during this dream, I think I was like I am now (my almost 50-year-old girl self).

The hubby was with me, along with some other friends. It was an old burned-out place and we were looking for something. Eventually, we ended up back at a circle in the warehouse and we were all talking. As it went around the circle a little boy tried to describe his Minecraft adventures, explaining he had made or was trying to make (it all blurs) a video game let’s play.

Continue reading “Dreams: Old Warehouse”