Captain Sock Hat

This is a place where I blog about things.

[captainsockhat]

Taking A Feel Trip

It’s like a field trip, but with 100% more feelings and 100% fewer sack lunches and school buses.

(I thought about posting this on my main blog or whatever but then I figured that I hadn’t posted on Captain Sockhat for a while and thought, “Might as well.”)

Coming out is a really, really weird experience. For me, this has held exponentially true for interactions involving my parents. 

Technically, I have come out to my parents (at least) twice. There have been many more small coming out moments with them over the last year - names, pronouns, starting HRT - but I consider these individual moments to be much less earth-shattering than the initial times that I came out to them, so those aren’t the moments that I’m talking about here. 

When I was seventeen, I told my parents that I was bisexual. At the time, I was very much interested in dating someone who was publicly presenting as female*;  since at the time everyone also thought I was a lady, I figured it was as good of a time as any to make the announcement. So I wrote out everything that I wanted to say on a piece of paper, taped it to the inside of my front door, and bolted as fast as I could. Sometimes people joke about “running away from their problems,” but that night I literally ran away from my problems. I fucking sprinted to my car, man. I went from Couch Potato to Usain Bolt in seconds flat.

I was scared. I didn’t go home for almost 24 hours. I spent the night at a friend’s house after a party that I didn’t fully enjoy and can’t fully recall, because I spent the whole night worrying about my parents’ response.

The next day when I finally convinced myself to go home, I was met with an overwhelmingly positive response. My mom said that she loved me no matter what and that she just wanted me to be happy. She said that she didn’t care who I loved; nothing mattered to her as long as I was happy. She said that she didn’t ever want me to feel like I had to keep a secret from her. She said that I could tell her anything because she loved me unconditionally and nothing could change that.

My dad responded with the same warmth and understanding, though in far fewer words.

I have never before felt such strong relief in all my life. That day was followed by a few months of awkward tension as my parents adjusted to the new information, but I knew I had their support. They would always talk about my future in phrases like, “...your husband or wife...” When I told my mom that I was going on a date with the aforementioned romantic interest, her only complaint was that she didn’t want me to get hurt by them*. Her protests had nothing to do with their gender presentation, only with my well-being.

(*Note: They do not ID as female, though I didn’t know that at the time. They’re still one of my closest friends and they’ve proven to be one of my very best allies throughout my transition, even if the whole dating thing never quite panned out.)

As far as coming out moments go, that couldn’t have been more successful.

Fast forward to my freshman year of college. I am nineteen. It is four o’clock in the morning, and I am sitting in the dark on top of my lofted bed shaking uncontrollably. I have just sent an email to my parents explaining to them that I am transgender - their youngest child is actually their son, not the daughter they’ve known for all these years.

I have never felt a simultaneous rush of pure relief and sheer terror more strongly than I did that night. There aren’t words to describe that feeling.

I didn’t talk to them for days after that; I was too afraid of their reaction. 

When I finally did muster up the courage to talk to them, I was greeted with the following message:

I had pretty well guessed that the response would go one of two ways; either they would tell me not to even bother coming home after the semester ended, or they would be completely supportive. I was so goddamn thankful that it turned out to be the latter.

Except I realized pretty quickly that the situation wasn’t so black-and-white. 

I was prepared to meet complete and total disapproval. I was prepared to be loved and supported. What I was not prepared for was the possibility that these options could converge over time. I did not realize that the initial response of love and support could turn so easily turn into disapproval, denial, and rejection.

I did not realize that the very things I took such care to avoid would become reality regardless of whether or not I wanted this to be the case.

I didn’t realize that even though I emphasized to my parents that this was not their fault - that it was not anyone’s fault, just a fact of my life - that my mom would still somehow blame herself for my dysphoria. (I also didn’t anticipate that she would blame her insulin injections or my use of melatonin, among other more ludicrous things.)

I didn’t think that my parents would shut down and refuse to talk about or acknowledge anything regarding my gender for months at a time. I didn’t think that it would take nearly a year for my dad to acknowledge face-to-face that I was trans.

I didn’t think that - despite my best effort to choose a name that both suited me and honored my parents - they would refuse to even attempt to use the correct name and pronouns. 

I didn’t think that they wouldn’t look at any of the resources I provided to them. I didn’t realize that the articles, videos, and support groups that I spent hours upon hours searching for would never be utilized.

And I definitely, positively, absolutely did not in a million billion years think that I would be asked to wait to transition until my grandparents would no longer “know what was going on.” I didn’t think that a potential roadblock to transitioning might be something to the effect of, “Maybe just wait until your grandparents are all dead or senile.” 

Of course, I couldn’t do that. That request was never feasible. I was not living a life that was sustainable. So now I’m taking testosterone, and for the most part I feel more alive and whole and just better overall than I have ever felt in my life.

But now I can’t go back to my hometown until I find a way to tell my extended family that I’m trans that also satisfies my parents. My parents, who are seemingly deeply ashamed of my transition. 

My extended family all lives in my very small hometown, so I can’t avoid them if I return.

I really, really miss my grandmother. She is one of my favorite people on the entire planet, and as of right now I am pretty sure I’m not allowed to see her.

I also can’t go home to see my friends from high school, who invited me to hang out with them next week - an offer I had to turn down. I also can’t go home to attend the wedding of a friend next month - a wedding that I promised to attend years ago. I also can’t go home to see my great uncle who is traveling across the country to stay in my hometown for a few nights, and whom I have not seen since I was a child.

I have also been very specifically barred from telling one of my childhood best friends that I am trans. I’m probably going to crack soon and tell her anyway, but it still hurts to know that I’ve gone this long without telling her. I’m afraid the damage may already be done.

I just, I don’t know. I know it has to be really common to experience initial support followed by rejection in the face of transition, but I never in a million years expected this. Everyone always talks about outright rejection or overwhelming support in response to coming out, but it’s pretty rare to hear about the more ambiguous responses. I guess I wasn’t prepared for this.

I’m still hoping that there’s a way to fix all of this; I hope that seeing how much happier I am now will eventually help mend whatever rift exists between my parents and myself. I love my parents, and I know that they love me - things are just really rough right now.

Maybe it’ll get better, maybe it won’t. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m doing exactly what I need to be doing in order to live my best life, and that’s all I can do. Everything else is just extraneous. 

Whatever happens, I’ll get through it. I’ve made it farther than I ever thought I could. So I’ll get through this. And the next thing. And whatever comes after that. One step at a time, I’ll push through. 

[captainsockhat]

Part 2 - The Destination

(This’ll take you to part one.)

I don’t think I will ever forget the moment after I gave myself my first shot of testosterone. It was such a simple moment, but it was also so important.

I was standing there in the doctor’s office after all was said and done, and the nurse (who did my injection training) just looked at me and asked, “How do you feel?”

I felt myself break out into such a big, cheesy smile, and I just kind of laughed a little bit and said, “Really good.” 

That was probably the understatement of the year. Regardless, he congratulated me and sent me on my way. (Sidenote: There are remarkably few circumstances in which medical professionals extend congratulations towards their patients, so it’s kinda cool to be on the receiving end of one of those moments.)

I did feel really good, though. I still feel really good, to be honest. It’s a different kind of good than I was expecting. I think I was expecting to feel really excited or to cry a lot of happy tears or something. And to some extent, those expectations were accurate; I was incredibly excited and I did tear up a little bit in the Walgreens when I was filling my prescription. But that’s not really how I would describe the experience. More than anything, I think that what I felt in that moment after my T shot - and what I have been feeling in the moments since - is an overwhelming sense of calmness.

I don’t recall ever feeling this content.

Fairly recently, I can remember reading something where a trans guy described his experience of transitioning (an experience that, of course, looks and feels different on everyone) by saying that he felt like he had gone to sleep at age 13 and not really woken up again until his forties (when he started medically transitioning). 

I think it might end up feeling something like that for me. I think some part of me just sort of went numb around the time I was 11 or so. I mean, I’ve still been living and breathing and doing things, but on some level all of that is incredibly superficial.

I’ve spent a really long time having experiences but not really experiencing things. It’s like I’ve been watching everything happen to me without actually participating in my own life. And for the first time in a really long time, I can actually imagine myself living my life instead of just letting it be a thing that is happening to me.

Of course, nothing has inherently changed and nothing is going to change for a while because - like most things in life - this is a process. But just knowing that things are going to be different at some point and that this is a real, tangible thing that is happening is so incredibly comforting and calming.

And, I mean, I have a lot of super idealistic thoughts about what my future might look like. And I know about all of the really painful things that I went through to get to this point in my life. And hell, if I’m honest, yeah, I’ve got a few fears about all this mess. And all of those thoughts are important and relevant.

But I think that those thoughts need to just be mine for now. Maybe someday I’ll talk about all of those things, but not now. There’s no need for that now.

For now, I’m just content to be. 

[captainsockhat]

Part 1 - The Journey

I went to Chicago last weekend to do something pretty life-changing. This is where I talk about that.

As of April 16th, 2016, I am officially on testosterone. I’ve been told that I gotta talk about how that all went down, so I guess that’s what I’m gonna do.

For starters, it’s really difficult to medically transition in the United States (though we’ve got it waaaaaayyyy better than a lot of other countries). If you want to take masculinizing or feminizing hormones by prescription, you typically have one of two options:  You can either A.) Obtain a letter from a licensed professional - usually a therapist - officially diagnosing you with “Gender Dysphoria” (or “Gender Identity Disorder” if they’re using particularly outdated diagnostic guidelines) or B.) Go through a very convoluted channel of doctor’s appointments until you eventually land in an office operating on a policy of informed consent. 

All of that might be a bunch of gibberish but anyway, I ended up using option B (though I have been in therapy and I have no qualms about being open about that, I did not use said therapy to obtain a letter telling me what I already know to be true). This meant that my doctor had to send me to a clinic all the way on the opposite end of the state in order to get a prescription for testosterone. I signed off on a bunch of forms that said I know what I’m doing to myself, etc. etc., and now I’m on T. 

Because the clinic is so far away, however, it took a bit of planning to get there. And, as is always the case when planning a major trip, we could not account for every single possibility. The following is a list of noteworthy things that occurred over the weekend.

1.) My van crapped out on us on the way to the train station. (Shout out to Matt for letting us borrow his car - like for serious dude I know I’ve said this a lot already but I owe you approximately a gajillion and one favors.)

2.) @disabledclintbarton and I got locked out of our hotel room.

3.) I only took one picture over the entire weekend, and it was a picture of my food in a restaurant because I was in complete and total awe over the fact that I was eating a grilled cheese sandwich that was filled entirely of macaroni & cheese. This is that picture:

(Note: My phone’s camera quality is really, really bad.)

4.) The first thing that I said out loud to my friends after giving myself my first ever shot of testosterone was, “I am aggressively hungry.” I said it because I hadn’t eaten anything since the night before and it was well past lunch time and I was indeed very hungry. I did not consider that both aggression and hunger are often attributed as being “side effects” of testosterone, and now I will never ever live that down (even though I keep bringing it up too because it’s actually really funny).

5.) Oh yeah I rode on a train for the first time. That was pretty rad.

6.) The clinic was on the single gayest street my queer ass has ever set foot on and I loved it. Rainbow flags everywhere. Plaques of LGBT community leaders and historical figures. I imagine it would give everyone in my conservative hometown nightmares for weeks. It was great.

7.) I am absolutely certain that I am forgetting a whole bunch of things but my memory is kind of biased because HOLY SHIT Y’ALL I’M ON TESTOSTERONE anyway I’m sure if I’ve left anything important out someone else will fill in the blanks. 

So yeah. That’s my spiel about the adventure that I went on this weekend. I’m also gonna make a separate post about, like, how I’m feeling or whatever now that I’m on T because I didn’t really want to get too serious or feelings-y in this post so stay tuned for that (if that’s the kind of thing you’re into).

[captainsockhat]

I like your opinions on Documentaries. What has been you recently favorite documentary and why?

I can’t tell if this is a serious question or if this is just Devin trying to get me to say something about Brother Bear... But I’m gonna go ahead and answer it seriously because I like talking about documentaries. My current favorite documentary is probably Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father. 

Every once in a while I have to cycle back around to this documentary because it’s just incredibly powerful. The editing is phenomenal and... I dunno, man, I just really like it. It’s super sad though so bring some tissues. And also maybe take caution if you don’t deal with death well because it deals a lot with death. I know I’m making it sound terrible but like... Honestly, y’all, it’s so good.  

[captainsockhat]

Bill Nye and The Ting Tings

Using humor as a coping mechanism in the form of mediocre jokes about my gender is pretty much everything that I stand for as a person. Click on the read more if that’s what you’re into.

So it’s become very obvious to me that while I’m home for break, I can expect ambiguously gendered phrases at best and blatant misgendering at worst. In order to deal with this without downward spiraling into a pit of misery, I’ve been thinking of funny things to combat the tension.

Here are all of the dumb hypotheticals I’ve got so far:

1.) Every time I get called by my legal name, the song “That’s Not My Name” by The Ting Tings bursts forth from the speakers of a boombox that I carry around in an alternate universe where I am much cooler and also much less afraid to correct people when they misgender me.

2.) You know how sometimes, when American children are exposed to the public school system long enough, they are inevitably forced to sit through so many episodes of Bill Nye the Science Guy that they end up chanting, “Bill, Bill, Bill, Bill,” with a cult-like dedication every time a substitute teacher wheels in an ancient television set and pops in a dusty VHS tape? Well, my brain chants, “he, he, he, he” in precisely that same tone every time someone uses the wrong pronouns.

3.) Somewhere in the universe, there is a grizzled old man who desperately hoped for a son but instead ended up with only daughters. He catches highlights of sporting events on ESPN in the middle of the night when he sneaks into the living room to watch TV; everyone always vetoes his shows in favor of Project Runway reruns and The Bachelorette*. He doesn’t understand makeup tutorials and he is tired of listening to the Frozen soundtrack on repeat. He is outnumbered. Every time the word “daughter” is used in reference to me, this man silently weeps. 

(*Note:  I do not condone this fictitious man’s antiquated gender roles. There is no reason that he cannot enjoy Project Runway, The Bachelorette, makeup tutorials, or Frozen, and ESPN isn’t some sort of end-all-be-all symbol of masculinity. Patriarchy, amirite?)

I’m sure there are many more jokes to be told, but mostly I’m just throwing everything I’ve got at the situation to make it suck a little less. I’m really lucky in a lot of ways and if misgendering is all I get, then I am very, very privileged. I know that. So I’ll be cool & civil & all that jazz.

Also I’m really, really close to a probable T date so honestly all is relatively well in the kingdom.

[captainsockhat]

[Insert Title About New Year Here]

I wrote a post on my main blog about New Year’s Eve or whatever and @disabledclintbarton told me to write one here, too. And it wasn’t even a trick, so I guess I’m now obligated to do it. 

Also I’m sick and I’m going to be home alone for most of the night anyway so it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.

I think a key component of any sappy New Year’s Eve post is to talk about things that happened in the last year. So here’s a list of things (both good and bad) that happened in 2015:

- I kinda sorta came out as trans to a lot of people. Like an overwhelming amount of people. And the response has been almost exclusively positive so far! That was a thing I thought I’d never ever do but I did it and it’s been really validating. - I got a van but I couldn’t drive it because I didn’t have a parking sticker. - I played a really, really big bass drum. (And I almost passed out once but whatever that part’s not important.) [I also broke a drum head.] Marching band. - I introduced myself to some guy as Ben but he thought I said “Beth” and it was awkward. - Obergefell v. Hodges happened and a whole bunch of people put rainbow filters over their faces on social media even though that totally wasn’t the point of the thing. Big character development year for the U.S. - I started looking for an apartment with some awesome people. Also I got a job.  - I failed a class for the first time ever and I’mma have to deal with the repercussions of that eventually but I honestly don’t think there was any other outcome... - ...‘Cause also my mental health was really kinda shitty in 2015. But we won’t talk about that. - I did a really good job of staying in Single Squad. Like not to brag or anything, but I’m kind of a natural. Really great at that whole not-dating-anyone thing. - (Just kidding I don’t actually care all that much about whether or not I’m single but it is a facet of my life that seems to make other people feel sorry for me so I guess I’m supposed to feel sad about it or something. Mostly I’m just working on me right now. I think any sort of romantic relationship would probably just have ended in disaster given my emotional state circa 2K16.) - I downloaded Steam and now I spend way too much time playing video games.

So those are some things that happened in 2015. Now that that’s out of the way, I suppose the next component of any sappy New Year’s Eve post is to talk about things that you want to happen or that could happen in the coming year. Here’s a list of potential occurrences that I anticipate in my own life in 2016:

- I’m gonna start my job and that’s pretty rad. - My housing arrangement will no longer consist of living in a dorm room on a college campus. - I wanna come out to my extended family so that I no longer have to pretend to be cis any time I return to my hometown. We’ll see how that goes. - I’m gonna leave the teenage years behind me. (I’ve got mixed feelings about that. Yay adulthood.) - I think I’m better equipped to deal with stress and negativity and overall bullshit now, so I should hopefully be able to bring my GPA back up without too much drama. - I’m going back to school with a Soccer Mom Van™ and I’m pretty psyched to be able to actually drive the damn thing I’ve been paying insurance on for months. - This could be complete and total wishful thinking (and like I even still can’t let myself go here all the way in my mind because it seems relatively unattainable), but I have a good feeling about 2016 in terms of, like, transition stuff. I mean not to go too far into detail about my personal life but I definitely have the name of a doctor who might be able to provide me with a referral for testosterone. And nothing is set in stone and I’m totally bracing myself for disappointment so it kinda feels weird even mentioning it, but it’s no longer completely and totally a pipe dream and that’s pretty significant for me. - Even if that doesn’t work out the way I want it to, I still get to go back to a place where so many people call me by my name. And that’s huge. (And I will never, ever be able to properly express my gratitude to all of the people who have helped me get to that point because there are no words in any language to describe how I feel. But if you are reading this, you are probably one of those people [because let’s face it, no one else would read this bullshit] - so in the spirit of saying sappy things to reign in the new year, thank you. More than you may ever know, y’all have made my life so infinitely better. Thank you for that.)

And now I’ve clearly hit the final component of a properly sappy New Year’s Eve post - becoming openly emotional and expressive about people and events in your life - so I think that’s my cue to wrap it up. This is the point where I’m supposed to talk about my resolutions or whatever, but I don’t really have any of those. So instead I’ll just keep it simple.

Happy new year, everyone! Stay safe, don’t drink and drive, and here’s hoping that 2016 treats you well.

[captainsockhat]

On Brother Bear (And Why It Is Not A Documentary)

Devin thinks that Brother Bear is a documentary. Here’s why that’s not true.

This is the official Disney website for Brother Bear:

Scroll down, and you have entire lists of writers and actors.

Now, it is perfectly acceptable for documentaries to have writers and actors. It happens all the time. But this many? I don’t think so. Every single character is played by an actor. No real-life experiences portrayed at all. It’s all an act. (Though I’m seriously impressed with the voice actor who has a Ph.D.)

As we explore further, we shall quickly discover the following while browsing Wikipedia: 

Brother Bear received an Oscar nomination for Best Animated Feature at the 76th Academy Awards. Now, it is completely possible for nominees in this category to receive nominations in other categories, as seen here:

Why, then, was Brother Bear not nominated for Best Documentary Feature?

Surely, as such a work of cinematic genius, it would qualify. But it does not. Because it is not a documentary.

One more thing:

Google confirmed. “Fantasy.” Brother Bear is a work of fiction. Sorry to burst your bubble, Devin.

[captainsockhat]

Nerd doesn't even know a good documentary when it bites him in the ass...

God dammit, Devin.

[captainsockhat]

Communication (Is A Thing That I’m Not Good At)

This post is mostly for members of Bunker Family, but I suppose anyone who sees this and wants to read it may choose to do so.

Hey, y’all. We need to have a talk. It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything on this blog, but this is actually… Rather important. (Which means that yes, Matt, while I know your rules on paragraph texts – you still have to read this. Or make someone else read it to you. I don’t care what you do, man. Either way, I’m gonna go ahead and apologize in advance.)

So I’ve actually been trying to do this for a while now, first under the guise of a game of Never Have I Ever and then in the format of a video, but neither of those ideas panned out for a variety of reasons. Which means that I’ve still got something to discuss with y’all. And it might get a little awkward for a bit. Whoops. Hang in there with me, guys; the awkwardness is temporary.

So. To make a long story short – I do not identify as female. Like at all. I don’t know if that’s something that comes as a complete and total surprise to you or if you’re sitting there thinking, “Well, duh. You wore men’s dress clothes to that band banquet.” Maybe you’re somewhere between shock and oh-that-actually-makes-a-lot-of-sense. However this information finds you, I figure a little bit of context can’t hurt. So I have taken it upon myself to compose a list of FAQs (that haven’t quite been A’d yet but maybe they would have otherwise come up). That way, you can skip around and learn the things that you wish to know.

Q:  What do you identify as if you’re not female? A:  I identify as a dude. A guy. Male. Strictly binary in terms of how I view my gender.

Q:  How do you know? A:  It is something that is just a part of me. Something that has always been there. It is not something that I woke up one day and decided. While it did take a lot of soul-searching to arrive at the conclusion that, yeah, this is something about which I need to be open and honest with myself and with others – it is not something that I chose. It’s as obvious to me as the fact that my hair is brown or that my right hand is dominant. It is difficult to articulate how exactly I know because it’s such a concrete fact to me.

Q:  Okay, but what do I call you? A:  Ah, this is kind of an interesting one. As for pronouns – I am eventually going to ask everyone to refer to me using he/him/his pronouns. As far as names go, that’s actually kind of a funny story. Basically, many moons ago – way before college – I started testing the waters in remote corners of the Internet. And I settled on a name that felt right to me – partially because hearing this name felt a lot like coming home, and partially because I didn’t know anyone in the whole wide world with this name and no one could make any argument that I made things awkward by using their name. Unfortunately, those of us in Bunker Family have known someone by this name – but it had already become such a deeply ingrained part of my identity by the time we met him, that I’m not sure I can completely separate myself from this name. With that said, the name that I chose for myself lo those many years ago was Ben. And that is ultimately probably going to be a name that I stick with. Devin is aware of this, and has been calling me by my middle name – Isaac. So if y’all wanna call me Isaac, I’m cool with that too. I also know someone who quite often refers to me as Benji because it sounds closer to the name to which they were previously accustomed– and if that works for you, then I’m also on board with it.

Q:  That was too long. I didn’t read it. What do I call you? A:  Pronouns – he/him/his. Name – Ben/Benji/Isaac/idk if you’ve got other solutions or suggestions I am open to them.

Q:  Okay but are you sure? A:  …When I was in second grade, I asked my mom if I could get a mohawk. (She said no.)

Q:  A haircut has nothing to do with gender. You didn’t answer my question. A:  Good on you for being so knowledgeable! Gender roles are a social construct. But my dysphoria surrounding my gender is very much not socially constructed; I am very certain that my body and my perceived role in society are uncomfortable to me in ways that directly correlate with the way my mind interacts with the sex assigned to me at birth. My brain is one thing, and my body is another. Of this I am certain.

Q:  What about your parents? A:  They know, for the most part. (I haven’t discussed names or pronouns with them yet, but they know how I identify and what that may mean for my future.) They’re accepting, but things are rough. It has been a tense summer. It’s gonna be an uphill battle, but we’ll get there.

Q:  So… What’s your sexuality? A:  I actually tried to cover this in a previous post (x), but basically I can be attracted to a whole host of people of a wide variety of genders – so you could say that I am pan or bi or whatever terminology you find appropriate for the given definition. But if you’re asking about trans people in general – gender identity and sexuality are two completely different concepts that should be viewed in the same way you view a person who is not trans (someone who is cisgender). So since I identify as male, I would most likely consider myself straight if I was exclusively attracted to women or gay if I was exclusively attracted to men. There are also plenty of trans people who are aromantic or asexual or both. The same amount of variety in romantic and sexual orientations found among cisgender individuals can be found among transgender individuals as well.

Q:  That was too long and I didn’t read it. Is Calvin (your fictional significant other) a boy or a girl? I must know! A:  Calvin might be a boy. Calvin might be a girl. Calvin might be both or neither. Doesn’t matter to me. Also Calvin isn’t real, so…

Q:  But! Religion! Are you religious? How does religion factor into this? What about God?! I don’t want you to go to Hell! A:  I know that some of y’all are religious and some of you are not, so I will leave it up to you whether or not you want to discuss religion with me. If you’re concerned, please come talk to me. I’d like to think that I’ve got answers for you.

Q:  What can I expect out of this in the future? A:  Well, nothing immediately. Maybe a few changes in wardrobe. Differences in the way that I ask people to refer to me, perhaps. I’ve got some long-term goals – but they are just that. They are things to think about in the long-term. In the short-term, I am still the same person that I have always been. You just know me a little bit better.

Q:  Okay, but you could have told us about all of this before now. I feel confused/lied to/conflicted about this situation. A:  I hope that this isn’t actually the way that anyone is feeling – but I can certainly understand if this is the case. The only way I know how to explain why I haven’t said anything before now is that – holy hell, y’all, this is a scary thing for me. I watched two separate trans people bullied out of my high school. One of them had to leave because he received death threats. And even if that hadn’t happened, there are only so many times you can hear kids you barely know call you “dyke” or say that you “look like a boy” before you realize that you’re doing something wrong. (And keep in mind, this was before I was out to even a single soul.) While I wish that those occurrences were exaggerations, they really were a part of my experience before college. And while I’m sure that I have inflated those events in my mind as a result of my circumstances, the fact is that I was really uncomfortable with myself for a very long time. But I’m becoming more confident in who I am and who I want to be – and I want to share that with you all now. You are a big part of my life, and I care about y’all, and I hope that you don’t think less of me because I’m kind of a huge chicken.

Q:  I don’t know if I can just start calling you by a different name and set of pronouns. I’ve known you for so long as one way and now you’re asking me to refer to you differently. I just don’t see you like that. This feels super weird. What do? A:  That’s okay! I don’t expect all of the pieces to connect right now! I don’t expect you to get everything absolutely 100% correct all the time. All I ask is that you try to understand where I am coming from, and you that try to meet me where I am. And I’ll do the same for you. Listen, I have had to change names and pronouns for other people before. It’s not easy! You’ll probably slip up ten trillion times and maybe someone will correct you and maybe no one will, but you’ll try again the next time regardless and it will be okay. If you can’t make the switch right now, that’s okay. You can call me friend or buddy or pal or dude or whatever other neutral term is most convenient. I understand. Really, I do. It will come with time. I know that. And I will be patient and I will work with you and we will all learn together. That is, of course, if you’ll allow it.

Q:  I have a question/comment/concern that you have not addressed here. A:  Please come talk to me about it! I will be more than happy to address it.

Q:  Do you still want to own a dog named William Wegman? A:  Yes. Also, it just occurred to me that William Wagman would be an excellent name for a dog. Ba-dum-ch.

Q:  What color is your shirt? A:  The shirt is brown. Fight me.

Q:  There are a lot of words in this post. I don’t like it. A:  Sorry. Nervous habit. I’ll stop now.

[captainsockhat]

I Love Hats To A Fault

I have a real problem when it comes to headwear.

If you know me, then you know that I really, really love wearing hats.

Specifically, if you encounter me at any point during any given day, it is 99.9% likely that you will see me wearing a beanie.

This is, in fact, how this blog received its name; my friends like to joke that they never see me without a sock hat.  Hot weather, cold weather - it doesn’t matter.  I wear one pretty much constantly.  

Some people even swear that I sleep in a hat (I do not).

This seems like a completely normal behavior to me.  I like hats, so I wear them.  For me, it is that simple.  Nothing more, nothing less.  I just like hats, man.

But for some reason, this tends to confuse or even worry some people.  A lot of people think that this behavior is symptomatic of another problem.  

For instance, my mother has repeatedly vocalized worries that I wear beanie hats because I am insecure about my hair.  While my hair is much thinner than I would like, I do not wear hats because I am in some way insecure about how I look.  I don’t care if people see my hair (aside from the occasional super bad hair day, but everyone has those).

They are simply comfortable to me.  So I wear them.

Is this normal?  Or has my obsession grown too extreme?

[captainsockhat]

That One Dinosaur Shirt

.This is the story of the time when a dinosaur shirt caused an existential crisis.

So I have this shirt, right?

It is really cool.  It has dinosaurs on it.  It is a rad shirt, and it looks like this:

It’s neat, right?  I mean, who doesn’t love a shirt with dinosaurs all over it?

There is just one problem with this shirt.  I don’t see it as the same color as everyone else.

This problem first came to my attention several years ago, when a friend described this shirt as, “gray.”  I very adamantly disagreed, but I brushed it off.

...Well, that is, until this year.  This year, several friends have informed me that this shirt is, in fact, very gray.  One friend even proved this fact to me by finding the shirt online from its original selling location, where the color is described as, “asphalt.”

The problem with this is that the shirt has always appeared to me as brown.

Not gray.  Not black.  Nothing even remotely similar to either of those colors.  This shirt always has been - and probably always will be - aggressively brown.

This has caused somewhat of an existential crisis for me.

I am questioning all of my colors, guys.

I don’t even know what is right anymore.  Everything I know is a lie.  Is anything even real?

I just don’t know, man.  I just.  Don’t.  Know.

[P.S.  If you want to purchase this rad, questionably-colored shirt, it is sold by the company shirtwoot! under the name Fly Away.  Alternatively, it can be found on the company’s website by searching for the word, “dinosaur.”]

[captainsockhat]

Human Garbage

Sometimes you just have to compromise all of your moral and ethical values in a 24-hour span of time, right?

Listen, sometimes I am just not a good person.

I don’t want to go into details, but basically I have done some incredibly questionable and terrible things in order to “successfully” complete schoolwork in the last 24 hours. 

Like, I have done things that are really sketchy.

And now, I am off to participate in even more questionable, risky, and ethically-unsound behavior.

I am trash in human form.

Don’t procrastinate on your schoolwork.  That’s all I’m saying.  Get things done, friends.  Get things done the right way.  Learn from my mistakes.

[captainsockhat]

Master-Planned Communities

This is where I talk about Celebration, Florida.

Today I learned about the interesting concept of master-planned communities for the first time.  One town in particular strikes me as being particularly intriguing.

The town of Celebration, Florida found its beginning in the early 1990s when the Disney company proposed the idea of building its own master-planned community (a community planned in detail before ever being built).  No surprise for a company with as much pull as Disney, the idea was well-received and the community of Celebration was born.

This town is utopian at best and creepy as hell at worst.  The rows of houses are practically identical, everything appears to be built very close to everything else, and - just as is the case in Disney theme parks - everything is garishly cheerful.

This town may perhaps seem to be an ideal place to live on the surface; it looks friendly enough and, come on, who can’t love a place built by Disney?  But all is not what it seems; in the last few years, Celebration has seen its first suicide, its first murder, and more than its fair share of rough times.

Despite being surrounded by fairly diverse communities, Celebration was comprised of almost exclusively white residents at the last census.  This community is an excellent (i.e. horrifying) example of de facto segregation at its finest.

This place is, by all accounts, imperfect.  Not only that, but the population is at best that of a fairly small town.  There are not a lot of people here, and the people who do find themselves drawn here are too similar to allow for much community growth.

So, logically, this community probably cannot last forever.  But what happens when it’s gone?

What happens when all the people have abandoned this weird utopian dystopia and leave only the meticulously-crafted buildings in their wake?

What happens when man collides with nature in this way?

I don’t know, but I’m sure there will be one hell of an urban exploration community eager to find the answers.

[captainsockhat]

Procrastination

Seriously, I have a problem.

It is a tale as old as time.  You know the one.  Your deadlines are looming.  Your responsibilities are closing in on you.  The real world is coming for you, and there is no chance of escape.

Life is a marathon, and you are a middle distance runner.  This race is simply not compatible with your love of binge-watching trashy TV shows on Netflix and browsing social media websites for hours on end.

I feel you, pal.  I feel you.

I can think of at least three major responsibilities that I am avoiding right now.  When I say “major,” I mean that they could actually, literally change the outcome of my life in a significant manner.  These are not small tasks to be shirked off until the last minute.  I should not be treading lightly.

And yet, here I am, doing absolutely nothing productive.  Here I have been for the last few months, and here I shall probably stay for a significant portion of my immediate future.  I have known about these responsibilities for what seems like forever, yet I have done nothing to see them through.

I am a reckless, irresponsible human being.  I know this.  I accept this.

And, like, I want to change this.  But procrastination is a vicious cycle.  At least, for me it is.

Allow me to explain.  My procrastination game is at its absolute best when I am sad, or angry, or depressed, or in general feeling any sort of negative emotion or experiencing any sort of negative experience in my life.  When things are rough, I put things off.  But when I put things off, I start feeling bad about the fact that I have not completed the tasks which I set out to complete.  Because I feel guilty about not doing things, I procrastinate.  And because I procrastinate, I feel bad again - thus leading to more procrastination.

Like I said, it is a vicious cycle.

Don’t be like me, kids.  Go do things or something.

[captainsockhat]

New Details Develop Surrounding Recent Cephalopodal Discovery

New information has emerged from yesterday’s announcement of the recent discovery of the Pineapple Squid.

An image of the animal has surfaced for the first time today.

[captainsockhat]

A Fictional Creature

I told friends to give me three words.  I’m going to make a thing out of these words.

The words, for the record, are lightning, pineapple, and squid.  I now present to you a newly-discovered creature of the sea.

The Pineapple Squid, or ananas teuthida, was confirmed Tuesday as the newest in a line of deep sea-dwelling cephalopods to be discovered in the waters off the coast of Australia this month.

Earning the unique nickname through a series of yellow-orange ridged spikes found along the dorsal side of the body, the Pineapple Squid resides at depths of approximately 1800 meters.

One unusual facet of this animal’s existence presents itself in the form of a unique ability:  The Pineapple Squid possesses capabilities of electrocution.

Lacking the ink sac that typically characterizes the squid, this creature instead possesses an organ which has effectively been dubbed as a, “lightning sac.”

When threatened, the Pineapple Squid is able to rapidly discharge multiple volts of electricity using the tentacles as a means of conduction.  Scientists hypothesize that this defense mechanism has evolved over thousands of years as this invertebrate has migrated further into the depths of the ocean.

This story will be updated as more information about this discovery becomes available.

[captainsockhat]

This Post Is About Nothing

I know not what to write about today.

I was going to write about a random Wikipedia article today, but that got delayed due to someone coming to talk to me and then not leaving... And reading over my shoulder while I was talking to my mother... etc.

So... I am writing about nothing today.  But I still wanted to make a blog post.

So hi.

This is me, checking in for the day.

I hope your day has been kind to you.