I look forward to Super Sunday for two reasons: PETA's always-banned-yet-entirely-awesome Super Bowl commercials and Animal Planet's PUPPY BOWL!!
Last year some friends and I actually had a Puppy Bowl party with fattening buckets of food, back slapping, and even this football snack bowl to boot:
When the Puppy Bowl enthusiast is ready to snack, (s/z)he pushes the button, the top of the football opens up to a plethora of snacks and the Super Bowl theme plays. The best.
This year marked Animal Planet's PUPPY BOWL V. These are a few of the puppies who competed in the starting line-up this year:
12 week old pitbull mix named Bella! My personal favorite who I was rooting for. I should have painted her name on my chest. Or his. Bella doesn't care.
Charlie Brown! Just look at him! Definitely a force to be reckoned with.
I actually don't know what in the hell this is, but somehow it found its way into the Puppy Bowl alongside puppies. Probably landed there in a ship from its home planet. I hope it wasn't there to harvest and consume the puppies. It goes by the code name 'Eli'. (the use of 'it' is intentional - for, I honestly have no idea what this thing is or what its motivations truly are)
I wonder how receptive those around me will be to having Puppy Bowl!!! parties once I'm the hairy awesome feller I envision myself becoming. "Hey guys, who's down for some Puppy Bowl this weekend?!" Then we can high-five and crush beer cans against our skulls during the kitten half-time!
Yep, that's how it's going to happen alright.
Restrooms.
Since transitioning I've continued to use womens restrooms whilst outs and aboot in public. The reason for this being that they're familiar and predictable. I've grown accustomed to being an androgynous individual my entire life and, even though security has been called at times or scenes may arise, I've learned how to cope with these situations and, for the most part, evade them altogether. The best evasion tactic has been to walk in with someone who fits the 'woman' category without jarring anyone's predisposed inferences about what that means, for example.
About a month ago I started using mens restrooms in public - but only the single-person ones. Baby steps.
This morning while getting a drink I spontaneously decided to use the mens restroom; not a single person one. I immediately felt some anxiety about going into this unfamiliar environment, anticipating that I'd walk in to find that someone was in the stall already and I'd have to stand there and increase my risk of being 'exposed' or called out. To my relief the restroom was empty, so I entered the one stall.
I didn't feel too nervous about the prospect of using the stall to do my business, since, well, they're in mens restrooms for a reason. It's not anyone's business why I'm in there. Still, it is a bit anxiety-inducing and I calmed myself by rationally concluding that I a.) belong there and b.) no one is going to automatically know that I'm trans and I won't be in any danger.
Once my bidness was done I calmly exited the stall and headed for the exit. I would have washed my hands, but using a mens public restroom for the first time was enough of a step and there was someone using the urinal. Progress had been made and zero issues arose from my being in there, aside from having a penis germ colony on my dirty hands. I washed them once I got to work.
Feeling a bit more confident from this experience I used the mens public restroom again today when I went out to lunch with a co-worker. This time the mens restroom was actually, well, packed with men. I walked in as confidently and calmly as I could muster and entered one of the stalls. I finished and strode over to the sinks.
There was a feller there washing his hands. I acted as nonchalant as I possibly could, washed my hands, dried them off, and exited. Zero issues. I was completely invisible.
Despite the anxiety, the experience was a million times more comfortable than going into womens restrooms has ever been. No screams or gasps. No one paid attention. No one looked obviously anxious or scared. No pauses or whispering. No walking in and walking out to double-check the sign on the door. It was so relieving to actually have two public restroom experiences that were issue-free; where I could just use a restroom in peace (despite the anxiety I felt, it's actually less anxiety than I've ever felt using womens restrooms).
It's even more refreshing that I can anticipate this will become more comfortable the more I use them and the longer I transition.
Last year some friends and I actually had a Puppy Bowl party with fattening buckets of food, back slapping, and even this football snack bowl to boot:
When the Puppy Bowl enthusiast is ready to snack, (s/z)he pushes the button, the top of the football opens up to a plethora of snacks and the Super Bowl theme plays. The best.
This year marked Animal Planet's PUPPY BOWL V. These are a few of the puppies who competed in the starting line-up this year:
12 week old pitbull mix named Bella! My personal favorite who I was rooting for. I should have painted her name on my chest. Or his. Bella doesn't care.
Charlie Brown! Just look at him! Definitely a force to be reckoned with.
I actually don't know what in the hell this is, but somehow it found its way into the Puppy Bowl alongside puppies. Probably landed there in a ship from its home planet. I hope it wasn't there to harvest and consume the puppies. It goes by the code name 'Eli'. (the use of 'it' is intentional - for, I honestly have no idea what this thing is or what its motivations truly are)
I wonder how receptive those around me will be to having Puppy Bowl!!! parties once I'm the hairy awesome feller I envision myself becoming. "Hey guys, who's down for some Puppy Bowl this weekend?!" Then we can high-five and crush beer cans against our skulls during the kitten half-time!
Yep, that's how it's going to happen alright.
Restrooms.
Since transitioning I've continued to use womens restrooms whilst outs and aboot in public. The reason for this being that they're familiar and predictable. I've grown accustomed to being an androgynous individual my entire life and, even though security has been called at times or scenes may arise, I've learned how to cope with these situations and, for the most part, evade them altogether. The best evasion tactic has been to walk in with someone who fits the 'woman' category without jarring anyone's predisposed inferences about what that means, for example.
About a month ago I started using mens restrooms in public - but only the single-person ones. Baby steps.
This morning while getting a drink I spontaneously decided to use the mens restroom; not a single person one. I immediately felt some anxiety about going into this unfamiliar environment, anticipating that I'd walk in to find that someone was in the stall already and I'd have to stand there and increase my risk of being 'exposed' or called out. To my relief the restroom was empty, so I entered the one stall.
I didn't feel too nervous about the prospect of using the stall to do my business, since, well, they're in mens restrooms for a reason. It's not anyone's business why I'm in there. Still, it is a bit anxiety-inducing and I calmed myself by rationally concluding that I a.) belong there and b.) no one is going to automatically know that I'm trans and I won't be in any danger.
Once my bidness was done I calmly exited the stall and headed for the exit. I would have washed my hands, but using a mens public restroom for the first time was enough of a step and there was someone using the urinal. Progress had been made and zero issues arose from my being in there, aside from having a penis germ colony on my dirty hands. I washed them once I got to work.
Feeling a bit more confident from this experience I used the mens public restroom again today when I went out to lunch with a co-worker. This time the mens restroom was actually, well, packed with men. I walked in as confidently and calmly as I could muster and entered one of the stalls. I finished and strode over to the sinks.
There was a feller there washing his hands. I acted as nonchalant as I possibly could, washed my hands, dried them off, and exited. Zero issues. I was completely invisible.
Despite the anxiety, the experience was a million times more comfortable than going into womens restrooms has ever been. No screams or gasps. No one paid attention. No one looked obviously anxious or scared. No pauses or whispering. No walking in and walking out to double-check the sign on the door. It was so relieving to actually have two public restroom experiences that were issue-free; where I could just use a restroom in peace (despite the anxiety I felt, it's actually less anxiety than I've ever felt using womens restrooms).
It's even more refreshing that I can anticipate this will become more comfortable the more I use them and the longer I transition.
I hate public restrooms. Hatehatehatehate public restrooms. I've been in some completely disgusting one, and frankly, I'd rather hold it for several hours than place my pale white ass on those toilet seats.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, if you ever want to start a fight (doesn't matter why, maybe you're trying cause confusion so you can escape the commies, maybe your man-muscles are aching for action), make and hold eye contact in a men's restroom.
I've heard that there are dudes that like to sit down and pee. Maybe you just like to sit and pee?
ReplyDeleteLast night in the hospital I was mistaken for a husband and a remote loving boyfriend!
Kammorremae: Note to self #1: Continue acting like a straight male homophobe and DO NOT make eye contact and Note to self #2: Get used to sticking pale ass where male pale ass has been.
ReplyDeleteKegg: That is excellent, your hospital experience. Ha! And yeah, I love sitting on sticky toilet seats to pee! Who wouldn't!?
ReplyDeleteYou now officially have to take your urine crust shoes off every time you come into my apartment.
ReplyDeleteSo men don't talk to each other in the rest room? I'm always getting asked about my weekend or my outfit in the women's rest room. Maybe I don't look homophobic enough.