So a few months ago, a friend of mine almost let his jaw hit the floor when I corrected him on my sexuality. He began the conversation rather excitedly, insisting that he had someone he wanted me to meet. This being a friend I would trust to match me with someone at least reasonably interesting I ask for him to go on, at which point it is quickly made apparent the person he intended to set me up with was a woman. When I explained that I was straight, even though I could have sworn he had known that, he seemed shocked beyond the capacity for speech for a scant moment. While I've certainly been mistaken for worse things, being mistaken for a lesbian by a friend I found pretty attractive stung a little.

Leads me to wonder- do many people assume this about me? This incident occurred right after my last haircut, so perhaps my boyhair was sending different signals than I meant it to. Who knows.

Me and my gender identity are good pals at this point. We've tried out a few options and settled in where we are. But there is no going full woman once you've worn a cup in your jeans for a while. Not that I was ever fully the most feminine thing to ever happen, but being a girl seemed weird, vulnerable and difficult. I now paint my nails, draw things on my face with makeup and have a dress or two in my closet. It's taken me a while to form into a person at peace with both parts of my personality.

Very complex issue glossed over for brevity's sake.

There is something deeply spiritual about discovering new musical love. This newest, strangely engaging love of mine speaks to my queer little boygirl self and somehow makes me feel a part of something common to a number of people. It makes me feel connected, and unalone. It's beautiful and perfect and lovely.

Something just happened to my family that could not be more ridiculous were I to add on untrue fantastical details. It included SWAT, a rifle with a laser sight, the fire department, the hospital, 5 hours of nonstop harassing phone calls, an eventual arrest and a freakout in a car. There was a story in the paper about it. I cannot believe something like this actually happened.

You never really grow out of being that weird kid. Was hoping for at least a partial fading of my awkwardness with age, but no.

I never really go anywhere except work and school. Bars are lonely places unless you go with friends. And the whiskey here doesn't have water in it. Haunt coffee places looking concerned at logic homework and googling translations of german words with too many syllables.

My dreams have been of a particular caste recently. All warmth and good-smelling, lots of tumbling around. Strange how we let ideas get the better of us. They slip in when you're not paying attention and lay eggs of sneaky desire in your brain.