Image via Wikipedia

Hello,

I just wanted to let all of our readers know that Elysium Avenue is going on a break. I really feel that the business side of blogging, all the daily chores to keep things running smoothly, has just overwhelmed the creative side for me. It’s getting into the holiday season, and I hope to hear back from a job interview in the next week. So I honestly have no idea what’s going on in my life right now. We’ll see how I feel about things in the New Year.

Thanks for reading!

Amy

Thanks Giving Dinner Full Plate ((Don’t lick the screen.)), originally uploaded by Familionul.

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I have this funky relationship with my mom. Sometimes we share secrets and gossip, and tell the truth like friends rather than mother and daughter. But sometimes the switch flips. Suddenly I’m the child again, and I need to keep my real feelings inside or face my mother’s anger. I don’t know how other mother-daughter relationships work, but I’m sure that I’m not the only child with this problem.

I brought this one on myself. I know that.

My boyfriend’s family is full of excellent cooks. Even the guys know what they’re doing, and not just at grilling. Thanksgiving dinner with his family is always delicious, with tons of left overs. Last year, both of our families held Thanksgiving on the same day, so my boyfriend and I visited my family and left early to have dinner with his family. I hadn’t realized the differences between our families’ Thanksgiving meals before.

My aunts, uncles, and their families on my mom’s side all get together for Thanksgiving and Christmas. For such a large number of people, there isn’t much food. Some families just bring desserts, so we end up with three pumpkin pies, a table of sweets, and a limited amount of actual dinner foods. The sides that do make it are pretty standard fare, pretty standard and boring. It’s not bad food, just nothing special. At his family’s there’s Cajun fried turkey with homemade gravy, blueberry yams, green bean casserole, three different kinds of stuffing, cranberries with pecans… Thanksgiving staples and modern recipes, some sweet and savory and spicy, made in batches large enough to feed an army. At my families’ there’s vinegar green beans, potato salad, and deviled eggs. Food meant for a barbeque or a family reunion, with little seasoning, and you wanted to be near the front of the line if you wanted to try a little of everything.

This year, my boyfriend’s family had Thanksgiving dinner the weekend before Thanksgiving. I was super excited! Not only would I be able to enjoy his families’ yummy dinner, but I wouldn’t have to shorten the time I get to spend with my own family. And, like last year, the food was delicious and plentiful. Now I have to get ready for my families’ dinner. I asked my mom what I should bring. Usually I bring a plate of taco dip that people seem to like. But, I really want to bring another dish that is considered part of the meal. I told my mom how I felt about the different Thanksgiving meals. And, although I told her the truth(at least as I see it), I got the feeling that I was being mean. I didn’t mean to insult my family by calling them bad cooks, but I suppose that’s exactly what I did.

I have no idea what to say to make it better. I just kinda stopped talking about it once I realized. So now I’m just nervous that my mom will tell everyone what bad cooks I think they all are. Or that she’ll make loud comments about how I think my boyfriends’ Thanksgiving is better. I’m not sure what side of the switch we were on, the truthful side or the traditional side. So, I’ll go to Thanksgiving with a sense of dread. But, I will bring yummy food, and hope for the best.

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Britta, from www.greendalecommunitycollege.com

I love Britta Perry.  It’s okay, my partner knows.  I adore her, and her creator.  Her writers.  Her actress, Gillian Jacobs.

Creator, writers, actress?

Britta is a character on the NBC comedy Community, currently in its second season. Community is my number one favorite show right now.  It is about a diverse (in race, age, and background) group of students attending a community college in Colorado.  The show is hilarious, and takes every opportunity to send up common tropes, stereotypes, and clichés.  And, most remarkable of all, it has three intelligent, interesting female characters.

Part of the appeal of the show is how strongly I can identify with the characters, especially Britta and Annie Edison (played by Allison Brie).  Annie is the studious, intelligent, naïve eighteen-year-old.  I was there, oh yes, and my heart goes out to her.  I laugh at her character uneasily, because I am really laughing at myself.

But oh, Britta.  Britta is in her late twenties (my age now).  She has traveled and done a lot, and is now trying to figure out what is next.  She is smart but often viewed as a buzzkill.  She is strong in her convictions – she is a feminist, an atheist, a vegetarian – but at times a bit hypocritical in the follow through.  Not in a malicious way, but in a human way.  (In a recent episode, she complained about snobby mean girls.  Of course, she later became a snobby mean girl.) Annie is who I was, but in many ways, Britta is who I am.

The most poignant moment for me was the Season One episode “Modern Warfare.”  During this episode, a paintball game has taken over the entire campus.  During the game, another character, Jeff Winger (Joel McHale) is wounded, so Britta patches him up.  She confesses. “I am a phony. I try to act compassionate because I’m afraid that I’m not.” This is a celebrated episode due to its ambition (it is a parody of action movies, and very funny), but I love the episode for this quiet line. It is something I worry about often.  Am I good? How do I know am I good?  Does acting good make me good?

Gillian Jacobs is terrific as Britta.  She has brought a subtle humor to the character – at first, Britta was kind of humorless, but now she is exists in a “so lame it’s funny” plane.  And I mean that as compliment.  Jacobs has taken a rather nasty stereotype (militant activist….actually, even worse, a militant feminist) and created a real human.  Often this kind of character is all bark, but Jacobs is able to reveal the layers beneath.

I don’t watch much TV for two reasons: 1. I get too invested in shows.  2. I can’t get invested in shows.  Community is a perfect mix for me because overall it’s a lighthearted comedy, yet it has these moments of pathos.  So many shows do not have good female characters.  Are Monica, Phoebe, or Rachel from Friends people to aspire to?  I love Xena, but I could actually be Xena?  Growing up, Agent Scully was my idol, yet the reality is she gives up everything for a man; how is that different from so many other sappy heroines?

Britta is someone who is like me.  Who is me.  I can recognize myself in her, and take joy in her triumphs, and feel bad for her heartbreaks.  I can feel confident in knowing she can take care of herself, because she is smart and tough, not because she has supernatural powers.

I sometimes have self-doubt.  I wonder if I am doing all that I could be, or if maybe I took a wrong turn somewhere. Am I living up to my potential? But other times I know I am where I should be, that I have done great things and that I will go on to do more.  It so often feels like TV has one character or another: crippling self-doubt or super strength.  She is not a useless sidekick or a bossy know it all.  She’s human, like me.

Watch Britta in Modern Warfare

Who is your favorite feminist or female television character?

Image by joebeone via Flickr

When I was a kid, twice baked potatoes seemed like an incredibly sophisticated food.  They sounded so complicated.  My parents never made them.  My friend’s mom made them, and my friend always spoke them (the potatoes and mom) in a hushed, reverential tone.  I decided this delicacy must be impossible to cook at home.  They must be a restaurant-only food.  Not that I ever saw them on a restaurant menu.

They always looked so fancy – the frozen ones had wavy tops, like whipped cream. Sometimes there was more to the filling than potato – like cheese!  Chives!  Baked potatoes were high school and twice baked potatoes were college.

Oddly, I don’t recall the first time I had twice baked potatoes.  I don’t mean that in an “I don’t remember the specific occasion or place” sense, I mean I don’t remember if I was a teen or a twenty-something, if I was living in the South or the Midwest at the time, if it was at someone’s house or at a restaurant.  But they were tasty.

Imagine my surprise when I learned that it is possible to make them at home, and that they aren’t particularly difficult.  They are time consuming, due to the twice-baking part. But two or three large potatoes are quite filling.  Sometimes I serve some bacon or sausage on the side.  But usually I just make the potatoes.  For something that I once thought of as exotic, I now view as comfort food.

The last time I made twice baked potatoes was on a day I carved a pumpkin.  I thought it was funny that I had spent all afternoon carving out a pumpkin and then the evening carving out a potato.

I think my recipe is based on one from Allrecipes.

Twice Baked Potatoes

Ingredients

2-3 large baking potatoes

3 ounces cream cheese

2 tablespoons sour cream

1 tablespoon milk

2 tablespoons butter

Salt, paprika to taste

*note: Sour cream is optional, the potatoes taste fine without it.  Sometimes I throw in some shredded cheese, too, if there’s some in the fridge.  Mozzarella, cheddar, and Colby jack are all good. You can also add other spices, such as pepper.

Directions

1.      Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2.      Wash potatoes and prick all over with a fork.

3.      Back potatoes for an hour or until tender.

4.      As the potatoes cool, combine the cream cheese, sour cream, milk, butter, and spices (and shredded cheese).

5.      Once the potatoes are cool enough to handle, slice off the top.  Scoop out the insides – get as close to the skin as you can. Put the insides into the bowl with the cream cheese, etc.

6.      Mix the filling.  I find it easiest to use a beater, but you can do it by hand. Everything should be well blended – it’s up to you how lumpy you want the mixture to be.

7.      Spoon the filling back into the potatoes.

8.      I put the tops back on the pan; they get nice and crispy. But you can throw them away.

9.      Bake for about 20 more minutes.

10.  Enjoy!

Image by Metrix X via Flickr

For quite a long time now I’ve held the view that if someone challenges what you’re talking about and asks a question that you should be able to answer it. Sometimes you may need to walk away and look a few things up but you should be able to answer it eventually or admit that there might be something wrong with the view you’re expressing.

So last night I finally tell my significant other that while I came out to him as genderqueer not that long ago I think that in the future there might be even more changes. Actually I’m pretty sure of it. While I’m not at the stage yet where I’m ready to transition I am pretty sure that I’m Trans. Only I didn’t actually say that because I’m nailbitey wimpy/nervous/apprehensive/scared and stuff. He said it for me.

I’m so glad that (eventually after umming and ahhing and many deep sighs) I managed to get it out. It’s something that was weighing on me a lot and I really needed to discuss with him. While I’m not going to be doing anything major for over a year, I though he deserved fair warning. After all while I’ll still be ME, the ME that he fell in love with was female, not male. By not talking to him I felt that I was being dishonest, that I was hiding it and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. I don’t feel like that in relation to other people because, frankly, it’s none of their business. They’ll get told when I’m good and ready to tell them. Probably when I change my name. It is his business though.

So then the questions started. Now, don’t get me wrong, they weren’t at all inquisitorial! They were all prefaced with ‘I’m not trying to talk you out of anything, I’m just trying to understand…’ This is why I wanted to talk to him about it. I think that answering questions is actually a good way for me to formulate what my views on this whole process actually are. I need to work out why I need to do some things but not others and why I can’t do other things instead.

The more questions I get asked the more answers I have to give which means the more answers I need to work out.

That’s good. I like having answers.

It’s also really good to share a burden.

—-

Thanks to Above and Beyond Gender

The Crossing by Donna Eaton from http://pixdaus.com/single.php?id=269258

The Crossing by Donna Eaton. Shot in Virginia.  From: http://pixdaus.com/single.php?id=269258

Image via Wikipedia

So, I saw the endo again today for the results from my karyotype test.

And the results are in: normal XY.

Really, I’m not sure why this matters to me. It’s not like anything has changed from yesterday; I’m still me. But it does matter for some reason I can’t explain. This is the result I expected, and yet it feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut.

I spoke with the endo about the whole phantom-uterus/non-specific soft-tissue thing. I told him that my PCP and I think that probably something happened during my development (in utero) to get me to where I got to (the surgery when I was 3 and the non-specific soft-tissue). He said that makes sense. He said that we’ll probably never know for sure what exactly is (and was) up with my body.

I hate not knowing.

I know who I am. But I don’t know what my body is. I never will. It’s frustrating. Answering these last few answerable questions helps in some ways, but it’s still really frustrating. I’m so bad with unresolved questions – I just want to keep digging until I find the answer.

Why the hell was I born with the wrong body? Why did that happen? Where do I go to talk to someone about getting an exchange?

I can appreciate being “special” and all. And, isn’t it lovely that I’m unique? But I just want a G-d-damned normal body. That’s all I ever wanted.

I live in a shell that feels more like home since my transition and hormone therapy and genital reassignment surgery, but still feels like something I have an uneasy truce with as opposed to being something I’m actually comfortable with. This feels different from being a little fat or going bald – this is right down to the core of who I am – my body attempts to deny my very self. Every month when I don’t flow, I am reminded of just how wrong this shell is, and of just what I’ll never have.

And I’d really love some freakin’ answers.

When I was younger I had so much trouble with my spirituality because I couldn’t accept that there was any order or justice or light in a universe where I could be trapped in this shell that is so obviously not mine. The torture of it all seemed unavoidably evil – either by intent or neglect.

I’m a little better nowadays.

Now I sort of feel like the power of my soul has overcome the limitations of this shell. I guess in the mumbo-jumbo sense I feel like my spirit, my self, was always destined to be the woman I am, and so I refused to be constrained by a body that was wrong, even to the point of not letting it fully develop as it was “supposed” to. I am indomitable. I have worked with what I have and I have connected with other souls and loved and laughed and grown. I have an amazing life with amazing friends.

I posted on my Facebook page that I was going to see the endo this morning, and that I expected to be told that I was a “normal male (XY),” and the outpouring of just plain love was touching in the extreme. It does help and mean so much that there are people that love me and care enough to hug me when I need it.

One friend even reminded me of the woman who gave birth even though she had XY chromosomes. (Here’s a link about it.)

I’m sort of feeling like the guy in this commercial. At least I know. And I’m really feeling the sting of wondering if “that’s why my curry’s so bad.” Metaphorically speaking.

I want to fucking menstruate.

I want to get fucking pregnant.

—-

Thanks to Penny @ Picky Penelope

Image by Martin-James via Flickr

Recently, the Oregonian (Portland) reran a New York Times article about showering – or rather, people who don’t shower.  The main point of the article, written by Catherine Saint Louis, is that some people are not showering as often, not using deodorant, etc.  Indeed, the main photo accompanying the article features two people one would stereotype as “smelly hippies.”  Until reading the caption, I assumed the couple were actually from Portland.

The article points out that showering can dry out one’s skin and even wash away beneficial bacteria.  (It seems there are friendly bacteria on the skin, just as there is within the body.)  Not showering can save water.  Chemicals in deodorants can cause health issues.

I originally read the article with a sort of bemused “oh those hippies!” air, much the same as when I read about veganism.  It’s a valid lifestyle choice, to be sure, but there’s often something…self-righteous about it.  Elitist.  I’m all for elitism, just my own specific kind. But then I realized I am part of this demographic.

I work from home.  I usually sit in a large chair or on the couch, and type away on the computer.  If I am not working, I am either surfing the net, playing a video game, or reading a book.  None of these activities break a sweat.  I also have very dry skin, which is often made worse by showers.  Add that up, and it means I probably shower every three days or so. And some days, I don’t leave the house or only run out for a few minutes, so I forget to throw on deodorant.

For a long time, I did not use detergent when I did the wash.  I’d read that clothes can get just as clean without it (especially if one uses a modern washing machine).  As a college student, I wasn’t doing too much to dirty my clothes.  They always smelled fine.  And I did keep around a bottle of detergent for hand washing anything that got really dirty/smelly. Now that I have a partner and two cats, I do use detergent, but only a small amount – generally one does not need the recommended amount.

A few days later, the Oregonian ran a letter about this article.  I was struck by its venom. The writer suggests that “nonbathers” should refrain from washing dishes or doing laundry to better conserve water.  This implies to me that it is a zero-sum game: either one does nothing in order to conserve resources or one does everything.  The letter ends with “Somebody should tell these people that they’re not the ‘pretty boy actor’ who lives in Malibu.” In the first place, language like “these people” certainly rankles me.  In the second place, does the letter writer mean that this is okay for those crazy actors but not for normal people?  That normal people shouldn’t conserve resources or not shower if there’s no need, like some…actor? Finally, why is this writer so angry?  The original article was not about “ALL people should do this” it was really just a fluff piece about a trend, with some commentary on modern cleanliness standards.  And that is certainly commentary I’ve heard from other sources, at least as it refers to the house, that we keep raising our standards, making it so that many people (women especially) feel that their house is never clean enough.  (An interesting history of advice given to women can be found in Barbara Ehrenreich’s For Her Own Good: Two Centuries of the Experts’ Advice to Women.)

It reminds me of the anger one sometimes sees directed towards vegetarians, or vegans, or those who choose to remain celibate, or those who choose to be ethical sluts….  “Plants have feelings, too!  Why don’t you just eat rocks?!”  Sheesh.  Everyone is just trying to make the best choices for themselves.  There are zealous vegans.  There are also zealots in every group.  As long as they cause no harm (such as by passing legislation to control other people’s body) why not…..ignore them?  But perhaps one of these nonbathers burst into the letter writer’s house and shut off the water in the middle of his shower.  Stranger things have happened, yes?

Obviously, I shower for important events or after vigorous exercise.  I still wash my hands with soap after using the restroom or when handling raw meat. But there is no reason in the world for me to take a daily shower, so I don’t.  I just had no idea I was part of a movement.

Image via Wikipedia

While researching another blog, I came across the article, ‘How to Emasculate Any Guy in 3 Easy Steps or Less.’ No, it’s not actually a guide on how to break a guys will, or castration. The writer assures us that her advice is about checking ourselves as women, so that we can have better relationships with men.

I’m skeptical of any article written for women on how to have a better relationship with a man. I think telling women that getting what they want from a man is all about the woman, and nothing to do with the man, is like telling mice they’d be safe from cats if only the mice would learn how to taste less delicious. So already, I’m guessing that I won’t be agreeing to much here. Let the fun begin with the intro.

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