I got the Sterling Heights blues....
It's been almost a month now that I've been living here, and I don't really think that I'm adapting all that well. Or maybe I'm just trying to rush things; I don't know. I still don't sleep through the night unless I stay up way too late the night before (so I guess I'm not so much falling asleep as passing out); I still miss Dawn horribly; and this still doesn't feel like home, despite everything that Danielle's done to try and make it one for me. I still have the sense that this isn't real; sometimes, usually at night, I see a different place out of the corners of my eyes, like I'm not really here at all. Sometimes that other place looks like the house on Pelouze where just Dawn and I lived, and sometimes it looks like the house where I spent my middle years, before my parents got divorced.
Part of the problem for me is that this place wasn't really a choice for me. I'm not here so much because I wanted to be, but because it was the only choice I had---it was literally this or be on the street. I'm forever grateful to Danielle for providing me with even that poor a choice...at least I had somewhere to go to after our eviction---it was clear that I couldn't live with Sam. But I wasn't ready to leave Detroit, let alone to go this far from it (Sterling Heights is about 30 miles from where I used to live.). It's a different world out here, one that I'm not used to and that I'm not entirely sure I like. Race isn't something I grew up noticing, and in fact most of my friends and acquantainces are white, but the environment I lived in was fully integrated. You'd look around and you'd see black, white, Arab, Mexican...a variety of people. Here, nearly everyone I see is white, and I'm aware that many of them look at me and see mainly that I'm black. It's an uncomfortable thing to experience after so long. Maybe if I'd grown up with it I'd be adjusting better---but then, maybe not. I've still not had an experience as bad as the first night I was here, when a random driver felt compelled to shout out his car window, "Hey, nigger, you're fuckin ugly!," but such things really do colour your perceptions. Even Dawn, who's white herself, calls it "Sterling Whites."
The apartment itself is---Danielle's. Sure, she's never lived in it before either, but it looks and feels exactly like her old place. Sure, some posters are moved around, but that doesn't make a place different; no more than one or two of them being mine make this a home. I feel like an alien with her own bedroom. And I don't know how to fix that, how to make myself feel better. Danielle herself really is a good roommate, for all that we're the Odd Couple on many things: for example, she's the sort who washes dishes as she uses them, whereas I wash once during the day and anything that gets dirtied after that can wait for the next washing; I use bar soap, she doesn't; I tend to wait for others for meals, she doesn't---little things like that. But she lets me use her car (mine's dead, and will be that way for a while) whenever I need to (and didn't even complain when I abused the privilege---thank you *so* much again, D!), she buys food, she'd prolly even buy me sundries if I asked, but I'm trying hard not to ask for things that she doesn't use. She doesn't bitch or moan a lot or unreasonably, we do go out sometimes and have fun together...I should be happy. Should be.
My food stamp benefits ran out, so now I'm an official freeloader, sponging off her her with no end in sight, and so grateful for her good nature. I could extend the benefits, or try to, but a condition of that is that I attend a daily job-search program that is absolutely useless to me, and would require more of my wardrobe and transport capabilities than I can give. When I defaulted on my child support payments (again from not having a job for a protracted period of time), I was sent through the same program, which was designed to teach skillls and provide tools to poor and under-educated people so they can conduct an effective job search and to be hired within, I believe, two weeks, (though a month may have been their target goal). I was already way ahead of the curve, knew all the tricks they were teaching, and in fact, exceeded regularly their minimum job search goals.
I was in the program for a year.
I had three caseworkers, all of whom were baffled by my inability to find work. Even when they held my hand through procedures, even when they knew I'd presented well, interviewed well, tested well, I would still never get the job. Initially they'd believed, like everyone around me, that I just wasn't working hard enough, that I was lazy, that I didn't care, but they soon learned: college-educated, high-earning , pre-operative transsexuals are nigh unemployable. I'm too smart for warehouse jobs---bosses fear I'll get bored and leave, or get hungry and take their jobs. I earn too much for others---with employers loathe to pay even $10/hr for specialised work, they're not going to hire someone who wants to start at half again that. And I'm too much a hot button for still others---even the employers who aren't just plain transphobic realise that they'll have to calm their employees, set policy that's never even needed thinking about previously, and all manner of other hassle to accommodate a woman with a penis in their midst. Because as we all know, since I still have a penis I'm still a man whatever I might say, and therefore I can't be allowed into the ladies room because I'll rape anyone who comes in, or at least watch them pee. (I'm not sure what it is they think lesbians do in the ladies room, though some feminist cant has it that they can be trusted because all men (penis-possessors) rape, and no woman does.). If nothing else, I'd make the natives restless and negatively affect production. So it's easiest just to take a pass on me. I can't tell you how many times it's happened. Oh, I'll get hired; it'll just take time. Lots of time. Oh, by the way: the job that got me out of the program? I found it on my own.
So now I'm lowering my standards because I don't like being a leech. I was trying to find employment in my field, or reasonably close to it; but now I'm going back to retail becasue retail always needs people. My fear is that it doesn't need old, transsexual people. By this time tomorrow I will have filled out and turned in nearly 30 resumes and/or applications this week. I'm hoping that a few of them will turn into interviews, and that one or two of those will turn into job offers. It's hard because I look like shit, more masculine than feminine sometimes, and disturbingly both others, and I can't afford any of the stylistic tricks that I used to use to push me over the edge, like getting my hair done nicely. Most black women seem to have a network of friends and family that they can rely on for such things, but I guess I missed that part. I'm just hoping that someone thinks I'm skilled enough or responsible enough to take the risk.
I may post more later. My head's all jumbled right now. Writing this was far more emotional than I thought it would be, Of course, there are the parts I've erased that you'll never see I was reacting to, too. There are quizzes and such below, not hidden behind an LJ cut this time because most of this post was behind one. I'll get through, I'm pretty sure. People will just have to bear with me for a bit. I'll be needy, whiny, weepy, demanding and all full of self-pity for a while I'm sure. But I'll get through.
You Are A Pine Tree
You love agreeable company, peace, and harmony. Compassionate and friendly, you love to help others. A natural poet, you have a very active imagination. You are very soft on the inside - needing affection and reassurance. You can fall in love deeply, but you will leave if you feel betrayed.
What is Your Celtic Horoscope? Your Linguistic Profile:
70% General American English 10% Upper Midwestern 10% Yankee 5% Dixie 5% Midwestern
What Kind of American English Do You Speak? You May Be a Bit Borderline ...
Your mood swings make a roller coaster look tame! When you're up, you're a little bit crazy... And when you're down, your whole world is crashing Scary thing is, these moods can change by the minute!
What Personality Disorder Are You? Your Inner European is Italian!
Passionate and colorful. You show the world what culture really is.
Who's Your Inner European?
what flavor pocky are you?
[c] sugardew
You scored as Bisexual. You're a free-spirited bisexual. You like both guys and girls, and what someone has between their legs won't stop you from loving them.
Bisexual
92%
Big dyke!
50%
Straight
33%
Trendy bi
25%
How much of a lesbian are you?
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You scored as Donald Duck. Your alter ego is Donald Duck! Try as you might, you have a nasty temper that is hard to control. But you try hard to please, and you arn't one to go down without a fight.
Donald Duck
81%
Cinderella
75%
Peter Pan
63%
Goofy
63%
The Beast
63%
Sleeping Beauty
56%
Ariel
50%
Cruella De Ville
31%
Snow White
31%
Pinocchio
25%
Which Disney Character is your Alter Ego?
created with QuizFarm.com You scored as Utilitarianism. Your life is guided by the principles of Utilitarianism: You seek the greatest good for the greatest number.
“The said truth is that it is the greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong.”
--Jeremy Bentham
“Whenever the general disposition of the people is such, that each individual regards those only of his interests which are selfish, and does not dwell on, or concern himself for, his share of the general interest, in such a state of things, good government is impossible.”
--John Stuart Mill
More info at Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page...
Utilitarianism
95%
Hedonism
90%
Apathy
65%
Justice (Fairness)
60%
Existentialism
50%
Kantianism
40%
Divine Command
35%
Nihilism
30%
Strong Egoism
25%
What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03)
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You scored as Janet Fraiser.
Janet Fraiser
90%
Jonas Quinn
90%
Teal'c
70%
Sam Carter
60%
Daniel Jackson
60%
General Hammond
60%
Jack O'Neill
20%
What Stargate SG-1 Character Are You?
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