pants with only one leg is called a skirt.

i want to start this blog with this:

I was five and he was six

We rode on horses made of sticks

He wore black and I wore white

He would always win the fight

Bang bang.

 

nancy sinatra, a beautiful woman. i am having an interesting time thinking about gender and where i fit. lately i have been in and out of both, in my manner, my actions and the way i speak. one second i am that boy, fighting, playing grand theft auto (to kill hoookers), weight training and more mumbles and grunts than chatty. the next thing i know im talking a storm, listening to the sugababes religiously, mincing and applying makeup to myself and my girls during a few cocktails. am i tough? am i submissive? will i let "him" win the fight, bang bang.

 

in my relationship with abe we know who was the submissive, me. i felt good taking care of him. there was the strange opposites attract thing but i dont like to align that with gender roles. my younger female cousin when she saw me wearing my hair in pig tails said 'that is girls hair.' i told her tht just because she is a girl doesnt give her automatic ownership of a certain way to look. i feel the same way about what role you are in a relationship. she tried to shoot me down. 

 

gender is to a certain extent biological but moreso defined by culture. my own reflection is that either way i am presenting myself it is the way i identify that is the most important. i identify as male but even within that i feel a bit restricted to the ownership of masclinity. again, i dont own anything just because i identify with being male. you see my conundrum? this thing is going to last years. its the relationship to other people that limits my definition of the way i am because as soon as i say male they will have their own perception and "gender rules" programmed in. it would be much better if everyone shared my mind in this way.  

 

being male is hard work for me, when i put a slight limp to my wrist i feel like i am exhaling.