google's how to of the day

ok, so i admit. i am a sucker for google. i love google docs, google groups and with a few tweaks i will soon love google apps as it will be homo a go go's web based office. but today my love was pushed over the top. since i love a good how-to book and squander hundreds of hours looking up such things as how to build your own murphy bed or how to install a new garage door or how to send remote control signals to a satellite receiver in a different room or how to make my old cell phone control iTunes anywhere in the house... you get the picture.... since i'm that kind of person who endlessly dreams of crazy projects and then actually does most of them, i have the "how to of the day" on my iGoogle homepage. so i just now opened up firefox after a frustrating day in court (standby, i'll get to that) and was about to look up why my 2003 12" powerbook that i just 3 days ago bought a brand new battery for (in lieu of doing what i wanted to do which was to buy a black 13" macbook) is having battery issues yet again when i saw the how to of the day on iGoogle and said, "whoa firefox, stop what you are doing (which was navigating to the apple discussion boards) cuz i have to check this out." i just happened to notice that one of the how-tos of the day was, "How to Respect a Transgender Person." so i clicked and got sent here: http://www.wikihow.com/Respect-a-Transgender-Person
so i read and it's good. and then i thought about how everything is so different than it was when i was on the verge of embracing my need to transition. back in 1994 it was so hard to find info. all we had was Loren Cameron and Jamison Green, two great guys but not a lot of diversity in identities. and gay ftms, they didn't exist, neither did ftms who liked other ftms. i mean they did, but it's not like it is today. back then so many of us cam out of this old school butch indentity, one of being a gentleman and worshiping femmes and being very mindful of taking up too much space as a guy. anyway... i could go on and on but i'm starting to sound like grandpa varga and my dogs are lobbying me hard for dinner: pacing and staring and whining... just read the blog "loretta is a jedi master," that's what's going on over here.

procrastinating

i got myself up early to do my assignment for therapy, due today. i've had 3 weeks to do it. of course, i haven't. i got up early and then squandered more time doing more online shopping. my addiction. ok, so now i have 30 minutes to crank it out. working under pressure;-)

the assignment: describe the ideal of how i would like my work life to look

no more sound engineering
no more giving my energy to non-profits or causes that are not homo a go go

keep my apartment manager gig
work on homo a go go full-time
do 2 or 3 college speaking gigs (on HAGG, cultural activism, community building through culture and being a feminist transguy) a month
spend the next solid year raising money for homo a go go to be able to pay me and 2-4 part-time or contract HAGG Fags (staff)
get HAGG destination site up and running (basically a HAGG online w/ radio shows, homo tunes store, visual art, work from writers)
put the fundraising and membership plans i've drafted into motion
finish our fucking non-profit status
do 2-3 HAGG fundraising or promotional party tours (mini-HAGG nights)
make an income that is in-line for an executive director of a non-profit arts organization

it wasn't suppsed to be bullet points, at least i don't think it was, especially because we discussed me cartooning this little vision/story, which is a whole other issue.
why procrastinate? why only bullet points? well, i'm scared. as i've already stated, scared to go here, scared to drop everything and not be able to support myself, scared that i will fail, scared that i'm not worthy of my dreams coming true, scared that i'm not a good leader. it would be so much easier to just keep being a tech guy or to get a job with a queer non-profit. but i know myself, i sabotage my performance in those kind of settings. fuck. why do i have to be a spitter instead of a swallower? haha! i've been thinking of using that analogy for a while. why can't i just be happy sucking it up and making a good living? why does there have to be the idea that there is more? i'm tired, exhausted. i want some good quality of life. mr. therapist is trying to get me to see that just providing amply for myself and having a good time is not enough for me personally because of my "values." me and my fucking values. oops, time is up.

it's my life and it's my wife or the thing that i love the most is killing me

i can' t tell you how long this entry has been coming. i've written it in my head many times, on dog walks and during the countless hours we angelenos spend in our cars. i've come up with several titles but these two are my favorites. so let's do this, lets talk about homo a go go. i have often joked to friends, homo a go go can live or i can live. it doesn't seem like both of us can have a life, sort of like tyler durden and jack. or can we? the recurring role of my therapist thinks that we can. maybe this is just a cry for help. every time i casually mention killing the thing i love the most, i get phone calls and emails about why i shouldn't.

first, let's talk about why i haven't written this entry sooner. only my closest friends know that i was sick for a solid 2 months last summer right before the festival. i have crohn's disease and it got set off by some nasty food poisoning. for 2 months i couldn't really eat solid food, i went to the ER, i have no health insurance, i was bed ridden for a couple of weeks, propped up with my phone asking my volunteer crew to help with my tasks, i had to delay my flight to olympia twice because i was so sick and couldn't travel. only my closest friends know that homo a go go 2006 personally cost me thousands of dollars that i will never see again. how many thousands, you ask? well enough for a guy like me to work without income for 3 months or enough for me to take 3 really nice week long vacations out of the country. but i didn't take 3 months off and i didn't travel, instead i put on a festival. do i regret it? no. do i resent it? yes. it's a fine line between regret and resent, i know.

so why haven't i told you this sooner? well, it took me about 7 years of putting on events and making, something out of nothing and building community through those events before i could embrace the idea that i am a community leader. even back in the days of homocore minneapolis (the original) i always said, "we." there was no we, when it came to booking, promoting and paying for those shows, it was only me. but i'm a former commie, or maybe i'm still a commie, at the very least i am a community builder and organizer, so i was a reluctant, quiet leader. i am still quiet but not so reluctant.

anyway, my point... community leaders, executive directors of organizations are supposed to be private and professional. that's why i haven't written this before, it would be unprofessional, inappropriate for an "executive director," to discuss the toll his position takes on his life. but you know what, i have come to believe in breaking down walls, being transparent, putting my shit out there because i want to remind people that us community leaders are just human beings: flawed, complicated, wounded, scared and not just the calm and confident guy on stage, holding so much in and together, who starts every sentence with, "people, people..." also, homo a go go exists in a different world, one where so many of us pull magic out of our hats and make beautiful art with no resources. we fly by the seat of our big gay pants. it's also a world where our heroes and stars are accessible, easy to approach, everyday people. so it makes sense for a leader to not just be the guy behind the curtain, it's in step with the rest of our community. it doesn't make sense for me to be quiet about how difficult it is to do this thing, this thing you love, this thing i love. people need to know that our community leaders struggle too. it breaks down the barriers, takes us off pedestals and makes us not feel so lonely.

wow, that's a whole other issue, the one of being lonely. it's true it is lonely at the top and i don't mean that in a being at the top out of success or ego kind of way. i mean it in a, how people perceive you kind of way. i know, you might be intimidated by me, afraid to just say hello and introduce yourself, strike up a random conversation. or maybe you mustered up the courage to do that, said thank you to me for HAGG, wrote me a note on bar coasters, asked me to be in a photo with you, cried and hugged me. i can't tell you how much those moments mean to me. i'm a human being, starved for connection with others and affirmation from others, just like anyone else. is it about ego and needing to get props? no, it's more about feeling appreciated, like killing my personal life is worth it because it means something to someone. maybe that's a fine line but it's one i'll happily walk, keeping my ego in check and staying on the side of a diminished ego who wants some love;-)

wow... that was a huge detour. now that i've written a lot about why i haven't written this before, and is that just another one of my fancy procrastination plans? i will make you wait for part two where i actually get to the heart of what i need to say, because this has gotten too long already. more coffee please.

coduits and catalysts

i am staying home tonight to field phone calls to schedule apartment showings. all in hopes of renting 5 apartments in the next 24 hours. so the pizza for the lactose intolerant meat eater is on the way. phone and computer are in hand as i wait for emails and calls. and the drink is sitting next to me. soon i will be a guitar hero. aaahhh... i like staying home on the weekends anyway because as one of my flaming hairdressers once said to me, "weekends are for amateurs."

conduits, we all have had them pass through our lives. isn't it funny how someone you feel a connection with is someone who is only meant to lead you to someone or somewhere else. i've had many of these people in my life, people who are not final destinations, just a stop along the way. the cosmic connection isn't really with them but with a path you are lead to. some of these conduits are catalysts, inspiration for change. because of one person i found someone else, or they re-found me. the whole experience was also a catalyst, a step towards finding different things within me and finding new ways to be open and present and follow my heart.

this is probably the closest thank you card that will come out of all that. i think there's a couple of other people who might want to sign it too. haha!

A number 1: too many jobs, B number 2: let me count the ways i love my life

i am tired. this morning i woke up early after seeing arcade fire at the hollywood bowl and drinking a big gulp margarita. awesome show. anyway, i just wanted 30 minutes to drink my coffee and maybe read or blog when the knocks on the door came and the phone started ringing. so, no 30 minute ease into my day. instead i took the last couple of hours off to online shop. i have 5 apartments to rent in the next 24 hours and no one is calling. i am a bit stressed. but right now, i feel a bit "adjusted."

B number 2: i fuckin' love this city and my home. it makes me smile to be out in the city, in my car, ipod on. sure it's a crappy 20 year old volvo but i still feel a little glamorous to be in the non-stop sunshine and blue skies. small town boy makes good. sometimes i look in the mirror and i can't believe i grew up to be a guy. i actually did it. sometimes i'm still surprised. and my home... fuck i don't know what i'll do if the owner sells and i have to consider moving. it's perfect, my neighborhood, not paying rent, having 2 porches, having a yard, parking, a garage for storage of my crap i can't let go of and i have finally after years of wanting to, decorated my home in exactly the mid-century modern fashion that i have always wanted to. no roommate, no live-in GF, just me and the dogs. i am so lucky. and then, i go and meet a dream girl in the bay area. my heart is pulled north. again, i am so lucky.

one more piece of the puzzle. therapy yesterday was great yet anxiety producing. my guy is pushing me again. can i break out of my box of survival based living and envision the ideal job (being head homo) and actually get there? so much for being a fearless flyer. fear of failure, which my guy says is fear of myself not being enough or not being worthy, keeps getting in the way. we talked a bunch about my family yesterday and class and economics. i forget how working class my family is. i think it's guilt from not being dirt poor that makes me forget. can i break the pattern and follow my heart and not only survive, but thrive while doing it? i have to point out here that i have followed my heart quite a bit in my adult life. but it has always been done rather safely. having the day job to support the heart and the art. feeling like i don't deserve for the heart and the art to BE the day job. i have done what i want but it has often come at the expense of quality of life. working to make community at the expense of my health, my relationships, vacations, traveling, relaxing and having down time. but i am tired and sometimes resentful. i want some down time and i have been taking a lot of it in the last year and i am much happier. now i want it all: building community, quality of life, family, success, the money, the dream job of head home, the dream girl and yes, even the dream car. yes, it's true, i have dreams of a mini cooper.

so can i do it? can i have the balls to envision the ideal until it is reality? i've done it before, that's how i became a full-time sound engineer. that turned out not to be the ideal after all. maybe that's what i'm afraid of: finding out that being head homo isn't the ideal after all. it's already taken a big toll on my life, do i want to give it more blood, sweat, tears and cash only to find out that that's not what i want? i think the buddha would have something to say about that.

the push

ok people. i know you all want to know how i lost an ipod in cuba but i have to come back to that, and i will. i promise. oh, and you want to know how i broke a rib. that one is easier. i was at my good friend ---'s house, he was asleep, i took his dog out for a potty break and locked myself out. in the process of trying to get back into his apartment, because the bastard was dead to the world and not hearing my cries for help, i landed squarely on my rib cage, knocked the wind out of myself and immediately thought, "hmm, i wonder if i just broke a rib." i got in, but the rib just kept hurting worse and worse every day. it's all swollen, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to move around sometimes and at night it wakes me up from the pain and i go get and ice pack and fall back asleep. but, don't even think that that slowed me down in my mischief, because it didn't at all, hehe. that's the story. stupid.

ok, so therapy today. have i mentioned that i love my therapist? so i was all lit up and talking about my shenanigans in the bay and my adventure of a summer and what a fuckin' blast i'm having. of course, he's got to make it all heavy. haha. just kidding. he knows that i want to be pushed and challenged and go to heavy places, so he does it. i was going on about just feeling so not guarded and so open and because of that, experiencing so many amazing things. and we talked about how i'm constantly trying to push my comfort zone and try new things and new ways of being and see what sticks. and we got on that goddamn subject of values again. i was talking about boot camp and trying to be a different kind of guy. he knows me well and knows how tortured i am about being a guy. i am incredibly hard on myself about being a guy in this sexist world. i hold myself up to unrealistic standards and don't allow myself to go to all the places other guys go. and i can't even tell you if i'd like to go there because i haven't let myself. i know that i'm a different kind of guy. i know that who i am exists in a different context. i know it's different than if i was a bio dude. still, i'm very aware that the world sees me as just another guy and i take that incredibly seriously, sometimes too seriously and with too much responsibility. i have such huge issues about wanting to be a good guy in an almost superhuman like way. it's rooted in my history and in being a feminist and my values of social justice. i take a lot responsibility for being a "good" guy in this misogynist world. i mean, it was a struggle for me to decide to transition and i sort of made a deal with myself pretty early on that any feminist guilt i had could be kept at bay by holding myself up to some pretty big standards.

i've already been doing a lot of work over the last 2 years with the same therapist around how i am a guy. constantly redefining, pushing, not settling and expanding my identity. so my therapist says to me, you know (and yes he has always called me this and i never corrected him to shorten it) edward, it's really good that you're pushing your comfort zone but just know that all of these ways you're doing that are just trial and error, a means to an end and not a stopping place. i said yeah, i know, that's how i see it too. he said, because i know you have some very strong values and it will be interesting to see what sticks with these explorations and how it gels with those values. goddamn him, always ruining my fun;-) actually i said yeah, that's totally it for me: trying to find new ways of being and still be at peace with my inner core of who i am and what is important to me in this world. also, just lightening up and not taking on all of that responsibility for being trans and being a guy and being a trans guy. lightening up and living, for fuck's sake.

then we talked about flexibility. and this has been a recurring theme in my relationships. i'm so fucking flexible and accomodating, i find it so easy to bend and adjust, that i don't make sure that i'm taking care of myself and my needs or that the relationship is meeting my needs. i'm so flexible that i don't dictate anything. i don't take the responsibility. i wait, i see how it shakes down. for example recently (a few months ago) , i waited to see if the other person wanted to stick around instead of asking myself, do i want to stick around? i let the other person dictate. it's like a phrase someone said to me recently: i'm fucking the cat but your the one who is holding the tail. we talked about how i needed to find someone else as bendable and flexible as me otherwise i'm there's no room for me to branch out in the ways that i need to because that's what is comfortable to me: flexibility, fluidity, flying by the seat of my pants, showing up in a city and not knowing where i'm going to sleep that night. being in the moment and recognizing it and appreciating it and going with it just to see what happens next.

ah, anyway. how did i get here, talking about all this? i'm not sure. goodnight

debauchery and boot camp in the bay

holy crap. i have had one of the most debaucherous weeks of my life. i'm loving the bay but how the hell does anyone get any work done in this city? next week will be all about detox, chilling and coming down off this endorphin and adrenaline high. shit. i worked, not so hard, and then played extremely hard almost every single night since for the last 10 nights. this whole summer has been about being fearless and open to adventure and following the train to see where it will go next. here i thought that i was at a point in my life where i was all old and settling into a nice quiet little life. that didn't work out so well. instead i've been having the time of my life this summer. i know it won't last but it's been a fun ride. and the boot camp part, you ask? well that part is about becoming a little rougher around the edges and not thinking with my heart so much;-) i'm trying to learn to not take being a guy so seriously and with so much responsibility. i've completely lost any sense of feeling guilty for being FTM in dyke spaces. if you question me for being there, i'll probably say, what do you need to see for me to prove that i'm a part of this community? my scars on my chest? what's in my pants? and the next thing you know i'm standing on folsom with another buddy holding our shirts up to show off our scars. don't fuck with me, people;-)

p.s. oh yeah, and i broke a rib or two. but like every other mishap, it's a good story and a cool battle scar.

capacity

i blogged this on june 1: "... i just can't be angry with capacity that doesn't exist. how's that for cryptic. capacity. it's my new favorite word because we use it several times a day in the world of non-profits. but it's a great word, especially in the feelings and emotional abilities department."

more on capacity....
why be angry and malicious towards someone who was nothing but good to you? why do that just because they aren't exactly what you're looking for or because you think they don't possess the capacity to give you what you are looking for? why take shots at someone who treated you really well, was sweet, did nothing to intentionally hurt you, didn't play any games, went out of their way to be nice and to show you a good time, took care of a lot of stuff for you, etc. why be so mean, hurtful and slanderous to someone who took responsibility for their shit, was open and honest and didn't shut down or lash out out? all because you're just not into them?

and the capacity that doesn't exist? was it even real or is it based on wrong assumptions and conclusions?

it took me a long time to figure out that i don't need to hate someone to walk away from them. just walk away and have some class.

La Habana en cinco dias

Five days is not enough for the country of Cuba but i think it was perfect for Havana. so you have the backdrop. it's true, i went there on a whim, to meet a girl. that didn't pan out but i'm so glad i went on the adventure. i'm so glad i'm fuckin' living and taking opportunities and being spontaneous. wow, maybe i am meant to be single instead of to get married and settle down and have a little family. but i digress, not a surprise after a couple of sunday afternoon mojitos.

day one: as i said, you have to fly through mexico if you are an american. i chose mexico city so that i could go to all of the exhibits celebrating Frida Kahlo's 100th birthday on my way back home. so it all started at midnight in LA with a lot of manic activity to cover my jobs, pack, get dog care, make some nice things for the girl and get out the door. i arrived in havana at 4pm and got in a cab to our hotel. my eyes were seriously bugging out of my head for the first 24 hours. first at the airport and then at the hotel, i realized i better kick my mediocre spanish into gear. it was great to reunite with the aussie, very sweet.



she had been in cuba for a couple of weeks already so she had no culture shock. this was my first view of la habana out of our balcony at the hotel sevilla



i was a bit out of sorts for a while. our first night we ventured out for dinner and drinks. after being disappointed in our potential restaurant and at the pressure of several jineteros we ended up eating at someone's house. now, i have intestines that are not 100% and i seriously did hours of research leading up to my trip about how to keep myself well. i've been sick 3 times in the last year, twice from food poisoning and another from heartache in february, and i don't need to be sick again. i was carrying some serious supplies, none of which i used: cipro (anti-biotics), a UV pen, idodine tablets, bleach tablets, powdered gatorade and more. i was a bit nervous about my stomach but within the first 3 hours i broke every rule i set for myself. even though i'm now on anti-biotics, i have no regrets. anyway, i wanted that experience of eating in someone's home. as i've already mentioned, everyone is trying to get those tourist CUCs. so many people cook meals in their homes with jineteros getting a commission to get you there. they say it will be cheaper than a restaurant, but it wasn't. they say it's better than a restaurant but i'm not so sure about that. as most of the guide books say: cuba, you didn't come here for the food. there's a lot of ham sandwiches to be eaten and ropa vieja (literally old clothes, various meats in a special salty, garlicky sauce ) and creole food.



after dinner and still trying to adjust to the culture shock, we headed down dodgey streets, again, never feeling unsafe just watched closely, to la floridita, one of many ernest hemingway haunts. we opted out of la boguedita (the most famous of the hemingway haunts) because it was small and already packed with tourists. they all really cash in on hemingway. the average price of a mojito in la habana is $3.50, at the hemingway bars it's $6. la floridita is the home of the daiquiri. local legend has it that one of the bartenders created it especially for ernest. i'm not a hemingway fan at all, but they do make a good daiquiri. my dislike of hemingway didn't stop us from getting some photos at the bar with his statue, pocketing some drink coasters and taking some cute photos together (which hopefully i'll get a hold of).