I have tea. And I made hash browns, eggs, and toast.

And I'm wishing it could be 75 degrees all day long.

Woke up with a stick bug in my bed. All but one of its legs had been broken off. Poor dumb bug.

First day of vacation and the beasts woke me up before 6:00, so now I am out at breakfast before running last minute errands. I suspect there will be napping later.

Timelies all!

Took the cats to the vet for their annual checkup and shots. They are in good health(other than Nova's teeth issues). I, on the other hand, have several scratches on my right hand from trying to catch Luna.

Why are we so scared? Why do we keep doing that shit?

Oh, god, ita, I don't know. I mean, okay, maybe your sister or a sociologist who studies gender issues could write an essay on how masculinity seems to feel itself threatened; and on how masculinity is often performed for other men (which leads to a certain kind of group-think); and on how the very concept of trans people terrifies people who have been told since birth that their genitalia define their personalities, their social roles, and the ultimate disposition of their souls.

But in the end, I guess it comes down to a failure of empathy. Why we are so incapable of feeling compassion for others--even in the name of God!--is beyond me.

On that cheerful note, I would like to point out that it's supposed to hit 100 in the East Bay today. I might see if I can drag my father off to the movies. Or go to the swim club with my sister.

David Brin

I think if you're old enough that you'd statistically likely have died by then, even though you're niche famous, the shock factor drops. I wonder how many of the people on the bottom end of the age bracket would go through with it.

It's not the first reality show evaluation my friend has tried for.

D'you remember that British ST:TNG fan who redid his apartment like the new Enterprise? And then his ex-wife tried to sell the place, and no one would meet the price he set? Apparently he ripped it out and redid it like Voyager, which seems like a completely sensible response to events. I remember lots of fans (and sensitive men (who've been hurt by women, or would just love the chance to be)) complaining about how heartless his ex was for selling the place, but I don't know if the news mentioned how long he'd been unemployed while he'd been doing this in a building she owned.

ANYWAY.

He's going to prison.

Kiddie porn.

Remember the moaning and wailing about not understanding people? More of that.

Complete tone shift: is fandango.com down for you guys too? I've been trying to buy Riddick tickets since last night.

But we killed a crossdresser a few weeks ago. Why are we so scared? Why do we keep doing that shit?

A combination of homophobia, misogyny, and fear of The Other is my kneejerk response.

Tim pretty much only crossdresses at home or parties -- virtually never in public. But he dressed for the Pride festival this year, which has grown into a HUGE event. (By "dressed," I mean vintage Candie's wooden-heeled sandals, a denim miniskirt, t-shirt, and boobs. He never wears makeup. And now he has long Thor hair, which I think helps.)

So the Pride festival is down at a park by the river, and in general, the people who go are going to be people who are accepting of general gender non-normativity. (Although, drag queens aside, my experience of the LGBT community here is that the LGB part is not really enthusiastic about the T part.)

But even so, it's still public, and anyone could go to Pride to start shit, or just watch the freaks. And so I'm there with him -- and a large group of our friends -- and I'm torn between feeling comfortable and feeling really really...ALERT. Keeping an eye out so no one tries to start shit. And it's a little stressful.

It all went fine, and Tim was happy because he never really gets a chance to dress in public, and I'm glad he got to do that. I just worry. Because...people get killed for that, you know?

On a way more frivolous note, someone is supposed to be coming to buy the packing boxes and paper from the move. Pleeeeease let this work out so this shit can be out of the house.

When we stayed in Edinburgh with my aunt and uncle (in 2002), they mentioned that the room we were staying in was also used (long-term) by a friend of theirs who cross-dressed and needed a safe place to be able to do that and keep stuff. All parties involved are past 70 now; I can't imagine what it must have been like for that guy as a young man.