Her feathers looked better and better
Friday, 05.11.2018 - 6:21 pm.

I had a good long weekend. The weather was proper summer, a bit too much for me, but I need to remind everyone in the UK that I come from the tropics so I've had enough sun for a lifetime.

Anyway, Saturday morning was well spent with Andrew and our friend Eric; we went for breakfast and then charity-shop shopping. On Sunday, I went to a BBQ with people from the Chilean community, though I kind of regretted it, because I have nothing in common with them. I went mostly because it seemed good practice to look after my social capital in this country, and the day was nice, if spent in the shade. The meat was great, too, though I'm sorry I've ditched my vegetarianism in the last year. 

I've had two small personal victories this week: 

1. I submitted an article pitch to an outlet that pays. I wrote a piece on overcoming bisexual erasure (for another outlet that had open submissions and closed them the day before I finished writing it), and I do think it's good and timely.  I may get rejected or merely overlooked, but I'm proud of myself for aiming high, and finally seeking retribution for my intellectual labor. 

2. The human flaming bag of dog poo joined a few us for lunch today at the office. He said he watched Genderquake and tried to bait me with it. I know about it thanks to the trans community I follow on Twitter, I know it was a shitshow (he said he watched it to "amuse himself"). He asked me if I was aware of it, I said I knew about it and no more.

Andrew and other colleague present started another conversation upon the silence that followed my response, but the HFBDP cut them short and addressed me again: "I figured you'd watch it because your friend Caitlyn Jenner was in it". My response:

Ok ¯_(ツ)_/¯

And I turned back to Andrew and the colleague, signaling "please, do go on discussing the latest Westworld episode", and that was the end of it. I felt so in control of the situation just by not engaging. Then we had a relatively nice lunch, with light topics. He threw in asshole-worthy comments here and there, but I think we all left unscathed. 

Andrew emailed me as soon as we parted ways after lunch (we sit in different parts of the open-plan office) saying my evasion tactics were on point. I did feel I deserved a good coffee after that, and I've been feeling triumphant since. As if he was reading my mind, Andrew took me to a coffeehouse when we left work.

There I told him I was scared the HFBDP might retaliate at the Psych conference, which is this week, and I present on Tuesday morning. He might throw some shit at me during the Q&A section of my presentation, which touches on trans issues. Andrew said he probably didn't see my response as any sort of defeat though. It's likely he thought I was a coward for not engaging and felt vindicated in his mockery of trans women. Still, it's no use trying to have a nuanced discussion with the HFBDP, so here's hoping he at least will keep his mouth shut during the conference. 

Many people in the PhD program, specially first-years, are dreading that he asks them a question in the conference. Everybody knows by now that he's just the embodiment of a pathological personality. What a shame that one shitty person ruins an important academic experience for everyone else in the group. 

Moving on. 


I love it, although I regret not getting inked by a woman. I didn't think of asking a friend who's slowly covering herself in tattoos, unfortunately; she just got another one herself yesterday with a female tattoo artist. The studio I went to is in my neighborhood, straight-up cis-hetero-brodude place. No complaints on how I was treated or the outcome! They're nice, respectful, and stick to the design you bring; I'm just longing for a different hand. Next time. For there will be a next time. 

But I love my tattoo: It's subtle and sleek, it has a bit of color, it's Bowie. 

And on that note, see you later. 

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