You don't have to run to know what resistance feels like

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Can I have a push on the swing


The man that I call my father did not actually meet me until I was 1 year old. He flew out to Washington (the state) for my first birthday party. It was his first and last time on a plane. He did this because he was head over heels in love with my mother and myself. That man will still do anything for me, and I love him from the bottom of my heart. Nothing ties me to him but the memories and emotions of growing up. Legally we do not belong to each other any more than I belong to my cat. Yet I call him my father, and he calls me his daughter and I call his children my siblings although only one of them is. To be perfectly honest I am one of two children. My lone brother is my half brother. The rest of my 4, almost 5 siblings are not traditionally my relatives. I wouldn't give any of them up for the whole of Europe though.

tonight as I walked home the four swings outside of the JRC were looming in the darkness. I could see them well in the light pollution of street lamps and the big blue "foryourpersonalysafty" tower. Also known as the Emergency light. I knew the seats of the swing were cold and wet. I was slightly chilly myself but I decided to put my bag down on the sidewalk and have a bit of a swing.

As I glidded through the cold air and the swing creeked under my weight and from the friction of each swing I though about my father. A brief run of warmth passed over me when I slipped into the memory of going to the park. My father didn't often take me to the park, because he has a fear of social interation and public places. To be honest I am not sure how he funtions in a work environment with his anxiety. On this particular day though I was 6 years old and I had asked to go to the park. My brother was sick and my other two sisters were with their mom. My mother looked at me as if she was going to fall over. Before she could turn me down though my dad said that he would take me, so we went. There are very few memorys of just my dad and I. I cherish each one that I have. I am happy to share this one with you though.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Mountain Goats

I am not ready to be back at Grinnell. It's starting to sink in how I am feeling. I felt crappy all summer and now I am here and it's not helping. When I left this place in May I thought maybe I'd never come back again. Then I felt like I'd die in Colorado so nothing sounded better than Grinnell.

Now I am not so sure how I feel.
All I know is that I am sitting in my underwear in my room
maybe I will write some more poetry

Thursday, August 20, 2009

I'm sociology at it's finest

I don't think many of you will ever understand how much I have gone through to get to where I am now. I am from an extremely humble and poor background and I've worked so hard to pull myself up by my own bootstraps.

Today I made a realization that might help you understand what I've gotten out of by leaving Kewanee, and why I don't see any of my friends when I am here. Because I did have plenty.


Of my core group of girl friends:
Ashleigh - has a baby
Jaquie - has a baby
Sara - just had a baby (is in the Navy)
Chelsea - currently pregnant
Lacey - only one who hasn't been or isn't currently pregnant (she's not gay either!)
Whitney - has a baby
Jaimie - had a baby after her Junior year
Heather - had a baby before even staring High School
Jessica - dropped out her last semester to have a baby

Friends added my senior year:
Lizee - married to a boy I was best friends with
Betty - next to married and living in Peoria

My guy friends:
Shawn - married to Lizee
Kenny - really smart college graduate who prefers to smoke weed and play guitar
Seth - Marines
Nic - who knows!?!?!?
Alex - nearly married to Betty
Alec - married


I still talk to some of these people, Seth and Alec on occasion. The rest are in completely different places than I am. How am I suppose to relate to all these married people and people with children.

Now do you understand why I have no friends when I come home from College?

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Wish of dreams

Last night while I was sleeping I had a dream. It was a lovely dream where I had a life partner and a job I want to everyday. At that job I was some sort of artist and did Theatrical installations and workshops. I was really happy. Not only that but I could wake up in the morning and go one day as fully female and the next day fully male. No one in my work environment or home life thought anything of this. I was fully living my queer identity. Some days I remember I even went androgynous and didn't get questioned weather I was a boy or a girl.

I also think I was married to a trans man, FTM. Legally married that is, not commited to each other until death by a queer ceremony. We were by law seen in the states eyes as married and reciving full benifits of such.

I hope one day my dream becomes reality. First we need to move discrimination against gender out of the workforce because in 48 states there is no laws to prohibit this typs of discrimination. Also we need to work on gay marriage and other queer marriage. This one won't be as easy because we have to focus on the transgender right to marry as well. In only a few states are FTM and MTF individuals legally the sex they have transitioned to so we have to broaden that catogory nationally. Because in some states transfolk would be married into same-sex marriages while in other states they would have opposite-sex standing. This is all too much to handel and I wish equality would be here tomorrow. It would make me much happier.

Monday, August 17, 2009

No more airplanes for this Tranny

Begining on Wednesday airlines are adding more boxes for the American people to check. Including Birth date and Sex. This comes at a time where the Department of Homeland Security is taking over the responsibility of checking airline passengers names with those of watch list. I understand birthdays being a reasonable request, but asking someone to give up their sex is another question entirely.

I don't feel the federal government and the airlines have the right to ask for my sex when it's already posted all over my drivers license. Many transgender individuals already have enough trouble flying if their sex doesn't match up with their gender or if they haven't legaly gone through a name change or opperation. Even for those individuals who are postop and legally "registered" their sex still changes as they cross certian state lines as they are not legally recognized as MTF or FTM in all states.

How so are we going to check the M or F box. This is another gendered America and I will not be on an aircraft for some extended period of time. I don't check the M or F box even at the doctors office so why would I do it when getting on a plane.

Time to write more letters to my senetor!


Read more at:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/08/12/AR2009081203000.html?referrer=facebook

Person I Once Knew

I ran into PIOK today at the Library. It was nice to see him, he's doing well for himself. I hadn't talked to him since graduation. Although, I remember his first day at Kewanee High School two weeks into my Sophomore year I wanted to be his friend. He was a large black man with a heart of gold and a voice that killed me.

I am happy that I had PIOK as my friend through high school. He'd traveled the world coming from a Navy family and was the sweetest friend I could ask for.

These day's he goes to school for Psychology and Music. Wanting to get a Masters and a PhD. His goal is to work in correctional facilities with young men. I wanted to cry today when I saw him. I didn't. He's making something of his life, and I am happy.

I wish I still know PIOK.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

You smell like my girlfriend

As usual it doesn't have a title -
but this is my most recent poem

I think it's something I can preform
because after 2 years, I think I can preform again


Listen to this poem @
http://www.zshare.net/audio/642352122427b2d8/



You smell like my girlfriend
the first words
Falling of a train with the corn fields and soy beans
city smells of hot pavement and diesel cars
33 tracks made of hard dark metal
a long embrace at the end of track 8
I smell the old men and stale air
thoughts surround me like a warm blanket
but it's a hot day I want to take it off
and put you back on
Illinois with the true black dirt
the earth that grew me and grew her
we smell like the soil kicked under our shoes
bubble gum being stepped on
hotdogs from the corner store
lollypops from the candy shop
you smell like my girlfriend
I still don't know what that means
the hog capital of the world
long haired cats and lost dogs
whicker baskets full of fresh laundry
green corn with it's tops still on
catching fireflies in the shabby grass
drinking our water from mason jars
as we run home underneath the stars
eating a picnic lunch with the cars racing by
and the neighborhood boys peaking over the fence
water guns sitting in reach and eyesight
to defend ourselves from their onslaught of laughter
and we laugh
to ourselves and to Illinois
to the black dirt and lost bubble gum
we laugh


Friday, August 14, 2009

Reason #46 Why Nikki isn't ready for the real world

My white clothing is now light purple:

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Hey, PICNIC!

Today I met three men on the train to Chicago. This was at the prime hour of 8 am. They were the nice sort. I ended up in the empty inside seat, next to the oldest of the men while the two slightly younger were directly across the aisle. The first topic of conversations was questioning my large picnic basket. I got onto the train with only the basket and a backpack. I explained to them I was having a picnic with a friend, who I was meeting in Chicago and we were going to enjoy the weather and each other's company together. The questioned the contents as I took my breakfast cereal and soymilk out of the basket. And quickly decided I was a healthy eater, and would live a long and joyful life. We all got on very well. Talked a bit about school and my major. They told me what they did in life. Then we all fell into a train routine and I played my sudoku until we got to union station, with the occasional side conversation with the men.

On the train back from Chicago, I ran into the 3 old cubs fans again. I heard one of them say, Hey look it's picnic! look guys, it's picnic! I of course was responding to the NIK part of picnic when I turned and look at them. They had spent their day in the ball park and as I went to buy a clear carbonated beverage they were in the dining car drinking a beer, all save the older one. They asked me how my picnic went I ended up sitting down with the old men and exchanging some more words while I drank my beverage. Two of them were a bit drunk, and the older companion apologized for them, but I didn't mind. They asked me if I was a hiker, because I looked like one. And then gave me tips on great hiking places, and places to go before I die. We talked some more about my ducktape wallet. I'm a little embarassed because I've had it 5 years, and really think I should move up to a big person wallet, but it's just so damn useful and still in once piece. After I finished my drink I left the old men to their beers. When I left one of the men asked it he could call me, picnic. I said sure, having never told them my real name. I will forever be the girl with many dreams and the picnic basket to them.

I am okay with this.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Testing myself

I am allergic to Burger King French fries
Number eaten - 3
Time taken to react - 47 minutes (cramps after 21 minutes)

I am not allergic to eggs
Number eaten - 1
Time since ingestion - 19 hours
Reactions - no visible

Saturday, August 8, 2009

child's fun

Why would we buy our children pink plastic vacuum toys for over $20, when we could buy a Eureka 431BXZ Optima Lightweight Upright Vacuum Cleaner, for $50 and our children can do the vacuming that they find so enjoyable.

They know the toys aren't real, and still want to play with a real vacuum, so why don't we just start letting them. All parent's houses would be so much cleaner. Don't you think.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

last few hours

Today and Yesterday were really long. I'm not both mentally and emotionally and physically exhausted.

Left to do before leaving Colorado
1. Shower
2. Finish Smoggy's tattoo
3. Staff dinner
4. Staff campfire
5. Sleep
6. Drive to airport


I've gotten my evaluation, and We've finished cleaning the camp. Now I need to take a nap and do a few things. But mostly I have to chill the fuck out.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Photograph

I wish I was a photograph
tucked into the corners of your wallet
I wish I was a photograph
you carried like a future in your back pocket
I wish I was that face you show to strangers
when they ask you where you come from
I wish I was that someone that you come from
every time you get there
and when you get there
I wish I was that someone who got phone calls
and postcards saying
wish you were here
I wish you were here
autumn is the hardest season
the leaves are all falling
and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground
and the trees are naked and lonely
I keep trying to tell them
new leaves will come around in the spring
but you can't tell trees those things
they're like me they just stand there
and don't listen
I wish you were here
I've been missing you like crazy
I've been hazy eyed
staring at the bottom of my glass again
thinking of that time when it was so full
it was like we were tapping the moon for moonshine
or sticking straws into the center of the sun
and sipping like icarus would forever kiss
the bullets from our guns
I never meant to fire you know
I know you never meant to fire lover
I know we never meant to hurt each other
now the sky clicks from black to blue
and dusk looks like a bruise
I've been wrapping one night stands
around my body like wedding bands
but none of them fit in the morning
they just slip off my fingers and slip out the door
and all that lingers is the scent of you
I once swore if I threw that scent into a wishing well
all the wishes in the world would come true
do you remember
do you remember the night I told you
I've never seen anything more perfect than
than snow falling in the glow of a street light
electricity bowing to nature
mind bowing to heartbeat
this is gonna hurt bowing to I love you
I still love you like moons love the planets they circle around
like children love recess bells
I still hear the sound of you
and think of playgrounds
where outcasts who stutter
beneath braces and bruises and acne
are finally learning that their rich handsome bullies
are never gonna grow up to be happy
I think of happy when I think of you
so wherever you are I hope you're happy
I really do
I hope the stars are kissing your cheeks tonight
I hope you finally found a way to quit smoking
I hope your lungs are open and breathing your life
I hope there's a kite in your hand
that's flying all the way up to orion
and you still got a thousand yards of string to let out
I hope you're smiling
like god is pulling at the corners of your mouth
cause I might be naked and lonely
shaking branches for bones
but I'm still time zones away
from who I was the day before we met
you were the first mile
where my heart broke a sweat
and I wish you were here
I wish you'd never left
but mostly I wish you well
I wish you my very very best


Andrea Gibson