A tangent about books

I don’t know why, but the last few days I have had an urge to read some of the books I read when I was a teenager. I am sure it is slightly a nostalgic thing, but moreso I am curious how they held up… meaning I doubt most of them do.

One of the books was an action series book about bad ass mercenaries (this was in the 1980s) along with probably the first sex scene I had read in a non-porn specific book. I don’t really recall much of the book or the scene, but every so often I want to read it.

So I am going to do something dumb and start combing through the 1980s military romance novels and see if I can find it, if nothing else I guess I will get a dose of toxic masculinity that the books exude. I am not even counting the misogyny or racism (I suspect transphobia isn’t in them because it is too far removed… I hope).

I am going to start with Phoenix Force, 58 books (all under 200 pages so actually not much at all) and then move on to other series… Unless I get a few chapters in and can’t stomach it.

The worst part about all of this, I know it is going to suck, but I can’t resist it.

After this, there are a lot of other books I only vaguely remember but want to try again. One of them had something vaguely to do with an ocean world (book was probably written late 70s or early 80s). I think I will have to look into that as well. However, for now I guess I am reading a lot of toxic masculinity romance novels.

PT: Squealing Youth

Project Throwback: 1960

Mom and one of her uncles circa 1960 per the back of the picture. She didn’t have a real smile in a lot of her pictures, this is one of the few that it is a real squeal/laugh/smile I have seen her have.

PT: Porch Time

Project Throwback: 1955

My dad and his grandfather on his grandfather’s porch sometime summer 1955. The puppy is named “Mucho” and is the first Mucho. Makes sense now why the black dog I owned at age 16 in Bellingham in 1987 was named Mucho as well.

PT: Mom and me (somewhere in there)

Project Throwback: April 11, 1971

Another picture of my mom. This time near the Seattle apartment that she and my dad had. With this being April, that would make her pregnant with me. I am somewhere in there about 3 months along.

PT: Groovy 60s before she was mom

Project Throwback: April 10, 1966

I realize I am late, the weekend was dedicated to the hubby!

Here we have my mom on April 10, 1965, at the age of 16, according to the picture. Not sure who her friend or dog is, but I can tell you that is my mom because her hair would always do that if it was windy, at the age of 65 it would do that.

Love you mom.

PT: Sleeping Babies

Project Throwback: Late 1991/early 1992

These are two pictures from when I was about 20 years old. I was holding my ex-girlfriend’s daughter that she had with another friend (yes, there is drama there along with fatherhood questions, but that is its own sets of writings).

I think this was when I lived at 1900 Texas St (in Bellingham), During the time that the hubby and I had broken up after we initially got together, broke up then got back and married. I do remember Selena smelled good though, more than the normal baby smells I like. I suspect it was a reaction to the super stress this time period had. A little bit of peace and quiet (and also the closest I figured I would ever be to a mom…).

Selena’s mother would constantly put her in my arms and I liked it. It is also sometimes the only time I fell asleep. I had totally forgotten about it until Selena gave me the photos last night.

PT: A Nice Lunch

Project Throwback: April 7, 2013

Hubby in 2013 (pretransition) with his health finally recovering.

2013 was a pretty good year for us. On April 7th we were enjoying our lunch at Pho Mai Noodles in Everett. Wolsey’s health was improving (he was going into remission) and he was starting his year of testing being fully female before transitioning (I didn’t know that at the time).

PT: A Quick Stop

Project Throwback: April 6, 1986

Just a quick stop to take pictures on our way back into Lake Tahoe when I was 15… in 1986… damn too young and now too old.

We were homeless, you are looking at my home for 9 months before we downsized to a less fancy car.

PT: 30 Years Today

Just an FYI, Wolsey is ok that in my memories I refer to him as a girl before he transitioned. My writing is a lot more awkward when I tried to change pronouns he used back then. He knows this and is ok with it (like I am ok with him referring to me as a boy before I transitioned).

Today marks the 30th anniversary of the first day my hubby Wolsey and I got together as more than friends and started dating.

After my first major relationship breakup with another woman a couple months before, I had moved into a room at the same house I had met Wolsey years before. This time I was the one living there and not Wolsey. I hadn’t been around Wolsey for several months due to some shit pulled by my ex-girlfriend to Wolsey, indicating to her that I didn’t want to see her (that will be its own post in the future). During this time, I had jumped four or five jobs in the space of a few months and was working in the paint department of Kmart.

March 17th 1991 started out as a normal day for me as I went to work at Kmart. It had been a long day when I got an announcement over the intercom saying there was a phone call for me on line 3. I remember it with clarity.

I pick up the phone and it is Wolsey’s voice. She seemed excited and maybe a little out of breath. All she asked was what time I was off. I was confused and excited. I hadn’t seen Wolsey in months. I had missed her but I figured she was off dating someone and doing her own thing. Her words to me on the phone were, “Don’t go anywhere.” It was a pretty commanding tone and I agreed to wait.

Twenty minutes later I hear stomping boots coming down the aisle and there she was dressed in a leather jacket, facial piercings, a very tiny shirt that revealed her feminine body quite explicitly, a mohawk, makeup, and the cutest purple crinoline skirt. I was getting off work about this time and she came up and hustled me to her truck and took me home.

Picture of Wolsey on right, the prior fall 1990

We spent the next hour and a half talking where we reestablished contact and smoothed over our friendship. Over the next couple of weeks, we talked a lot and she kept showing up at my room. Wolsey was homeless at the time, but that didn’t bother me. I invited her in to my room and let her stay on my single-wide bed. I left out cans of ravioli, with a can opener and a spoon, for her to eat if she was hungry. Wolsey was always hungry and this was the one thing I knew she liked to eat.

On April 6th she showed up in my window while my friend Bryon was visiting. She waited patiently around, but I could tell she was impatient on Bryon leaving. I think at some point Bryon got the clue and made himself scarce.

For the next two hours she told me about a guy that she was really attracted to and wanted to date. To be honest I was absolutely crushed. I had always been in love with her from the first time I met her. She is who I had originally wanted to date, but we could never get our timing right and I do admit I was terrified. I was a horrible person, before I had dated my ex-girlfriend, Wolsey would invite me out to meet her for coffee and I would chicken out and leave her at the Horseshoe Cafe by herself waiting.

I was such a dick.

But now we had started talking and I had started thinking maybe we could work out. I had gotten my first time sleeping with a woman out of the way with my ex-girlfriend and I wasn’t terrified of girls so now I had been hoping maybe things would work out.

I never mentioned how crushed I was. I just was super supportive of her interest in someone. After all she was my best friend, and I knew that more at the time then I had realized before. However she just kept looking at me weird when I was so supportive of it. She realized I didn’t think it was me and then it became a game.

For two hours she poked me and made me try to guess who she wanted to date. I was an idiot and didn’t realize what she meant and assumed it was another guy much cooler then me. Eventually she told me to shut up and said it was me. I was stunned and couldn’t say anything. I think my brain literally shut down for a moment. All I could hear was static and I was sure I had misheard her. There was no way she was interested in someone as uninteresting as me.

Then she kissed me.

We spent the night together, and honestly we have only slept apart since then we we broke up for a several month period after the following Thanksgiving, and after we got back together we have only ever been apart due to surgeries, or travel for work (which has only been in the last 7 years).

So basically I just need to tell my husband that I love him more than anything, and I am really glad he liked the ravioli I set out on the window sill enough to date me :). It has been an awesome 30 years, and I hope we get another 30 years at least.

I LOVE YOU WOLSEY, more than all of the rest of the universe combined.

Strange Meetings (dream)

Last night I had a weird, anxious and intense dream that lasted all night. Probably part of it is anxiety, finally system clear of narcs and any other aid to help sleep or maintain my mood.

Wolsey and I had moved to what looked like Seattle, a large city in a rainy area. We met up with some of the people that lived around there and it turned out a lot of them were people I knew as a teenager in Bellingham. Not any of my closest circle of friends, but all people I interacted with regularly.

Side note – when I was a teenager, I went to five high schools. There was a combination of homelessness, drunken Vietnam Vet/underworld shit along with our family having a contract on our head and the first year of repeated moving was literally due to avoiding having another attack on our family.

If I get brave I might go in-depth about it at some other time. If my childhood was a tv show, it would be a bad “gritty drama” because people would think no way all that shit happened, but it did and it shaped the core of who I am.

I finished off the last two years of high school at Bellingham High School (yes that means I went to four high schools in two years before). I had a couple of friends I considered really close, and it is also when I met hubby. I never fit in with the high school crowd though.

I suspect part of it was that I had grown up in a lot harder position than almost any of them. The other, and probably bigger part, was that I was new to Bellingham, I wasn’t a local and I hadn’t at least lived there in middle school or earlier. Bellingham and all of Whatcom County were extremely insular then. People had lived there for generations and the only real new people in town were usually just going to school at Western Washington University, then they would leave.

It meant the friend’s cliques were already established and I ended up on the outside of all of the established groups that were involved high school-wise. The one advantage though is that I interacted with almost all the groups because of it. I wasn’t considered “the enemy”, just someone that was around school.

I spent most of the night talking with people like Clark and Boris (last names withheld to protect the innocent). We got along in high school, and to be honest, Boris was always really nice to me. For whatever reason, though they had a weirdness about them towards me during our discussion over lunch that time and distance didn’t create.

I didn’t know that reason was at least until I realized that I looked like I do now while I was in the dream and all of these people I haven’t seen since long before I started transition.

The rest of the dream now has faded mostly. I talked with several others and left the area feeling uncomfortable and saddened for an unknown reason.

I was going to post more about the dream, there were some fine details, but I wanted to make sure I was right that it was Clark that was in the dream. So I went onto classmates.com and found I was right.

It is also when I remembered I don’t have a picture in the senior yearbook for 1989. At the time I was too poor to afford a color photographer and they weren’t offering the black and white packages to seniors so they told me I couldn’t get my picture in the yearbook. They also somehow left my name out of it, that is a negative side effect of not being in any group.

That is the end result of joining up in Bellingham High School as a junior and being poor. At the time I wasn’t angry about any of it. We had just avoided dying, being homeless and to be honest I think I was too much of an adult in too many ways (but not in all the ways that you need to be) that I just sort of pushed through it.

I think I am angry now. Not really any one thing that I can define at the moment. I do think it might have gone better if I was able to come out then. Actually it was the 1980s that shit wouldn’t fly so no it wouldn’t have changed anything, just gave it a different taste I suppose.

Oh, and I just found out that Boris is an author/artist and his stuff is still as different as it was in high school. Good for him!

As for anyone reading this, it sort of went tangential and then off the path completely. Sorry about that :).

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