My Face for the World to See (Part II): The Diary of Sherilyn Connelly a fiction March 21 - 31, 2002

Sunday, 31 March 2002 (we'll inherit the earth) 1:02pm The only time celebrities have died in threes was when Ritchie Valens won that coin toss, okay? Last | Top | Next

Saturday, 30 March 2002 (don't tell a soul) 8:07am He did it again. Not as a joke, and not while speaking directly to me. Rather, it was in an email to the team, an estimated schedule for the current project: " -Jeff (& Leigh) begin pushing pages to hub" After giving myself a few minutes to cool down, I replied privately: Actually, my name is Sherilyn now, and I have the social security card and driver license to prove it. :) Don't resend the message or anything like that; just try to remember to use the correct name in any future group emails. Thanks. Because I'm fundamentally chicken, I tried be as non-confrontational as possible. As satisfying as it might have been, starting the reply with "Listen, you stupid fuck" wasn't much of an option. (Among other things, I'm trying not to swear so much.) (No, really.) Plus there's the likelihood of it bringing my contract to an abrupt halt with little chance of renewal. Not good. Besides, he wouldn't have really understood why it bothers me so much. He's the type that'll never quite grasp it, or even accept it on faith. Besides, depending on who you ask, I'm probably going to hell and he's not. Since he's a good straight boy and I'm... It's like this: according to her sister Ritt, their mother said recently that while she's glad she's happy, she's worried that because of what she's doing Maddy's going to hell. This from a woman who has never had any particular religious convictions, and has only ever set foot in a church for weddings and funerals. All the same, she's worried that her daughter is facing eternal damnation. Her ability to find new ways to staple her hand to her forehead never ceases to amaze me. Hopefully, this means that she'll decide against attending the wedding this October, lest her implicit condonation of her daughter's gawdlessness results in her joining us in that downward handbasket. And, for the record, I'm not remotely worried that I'm going to hell. I don't believe in an afterlife, good or bad, and if there were to be one the notion that our admittance depends on the minutiae of our lives strikes me as patently absurd. But it sure is a great way to keep the rabble in line. Last | Top | Next

Friday, 29 March 2002 (force the hand of fate) sometime after midnight it was a rhetorical question, but thanks. Last | Top | Next

Thursday, 28 March 2002 (silence is sexy) 10:16am My federal refund check arrived. In spite of the 1040 being under my new name, and said name being associated with my SSN, the check is to my old name. I shouldn't have any problem depositing it (what with the ugly AKA on my bank statements), but I'm wondering now what I did wrong, why the name isn't what it should be. Probably nothing. A connection got missed somewhere—seems like more of them miss than actually make it—and there was no way to know about it until now. My dad might know what to do. I've already received and desposited my state check, and for the life of me I don't remember what it said. I'm guessing the name was correct, because it would have leapt out at me otherwise. Does it really matter what my name is on paper? On certain papers, anyway? Last | Top | Next

Wednesday, 27 March 2002 (style it takes) 4:16pm It looks like we may need to replace our DSL modem. This is gonna hurt. Last | Top | Next

Tuesday, 26 March 2002 (hometime) 9:17am Nobody bothered to tell the security people about the extension, though. My badge didn't work this morning, since as far as the security system is concerned I'm not of the body anymore. That's life in these days of heightened security, I guess. And I'll always have a souvenir of the bygone, more carefree days: my access key to the old building, the one I was in when I started with the company three years ago. They never asked for it back when my department moved buildings, and what's more, it continued to work after we moved. For all I know, it still works now. I don't intend to find out, but I'm keeping it all the same. We finally got caught up with Buffy last night—we watched six seasons in as many months—meaning we can start watching the new episodes when they air. To keep the balance I may give up on Enterprise, which I just can't get into. It doesn't feel like Star Trek to me; rather, it feels like why I don't watch much teevee anymore. (Of course, I liked Voyager, so I clearly have poor taste.) I know Maddy wouldn't mind. 10:20pm I finally saw Todd Haynes' Safe at The Red Vic tonight. I dug it, even though there was A) audible static during the entire movie (I'd ask how a seven year-old print can be in such bad shape, but that'd be terribly naive) and B) inappropriate laughter from the audience. (I guess that's to be expected when a movie is even the slightest bit challenging.) It was enough to make me glad that Maddy couldn't make it, although it was kinda weird going to The Red Vic by myself—by my math I haven't gone there alone since Tiff quasi-stood me up on Valentine's Day '99. Since then, it's become "our" theater. (Maddy and I, that is. Tiff and I don't share much of anything.) Before the movie I went into Wasteland and tried on some clothes. More didn't fit than did. I'm clocking in at 167, and even I have to admit that my stomach isn't as prominent as I claim it is, but it appears I'm still not quite where I want to be yet. When I get there, of course, I'll know it. Surely. Last | Top | Next

Monday, 25 March 2002 (fairy tales of slavery) 6:54pm To their credit, the gate seemed to be closed for the entire evening. Once again I'm glad their living room isn't over ours, since the overhead noise out in the garage was deafening. I'm happy to say our teevee wasn't on once that evening (though we did watch Velvet Goldmine on DVD earlier in the day); Phred was over, and we just hung out and talked. It was nice. It was impossible to avoid hearing about it today, of course. It's a good thing I wasn't born a girl, because I would have been named Jennifer. 'nuff said. I'm currently in that magic period between healing from the last bout with electrolysis and the return of the dark hair under the skin. The theory is that someday this is where I'll always be. According to the original terms of this job, Friday should have been my last day. Lew now says he'll need Dino and I through April 12. I'm trying not to hope that another project comes up which makes them decide they simply must keep me longer. What's the point of setting myself up for that kind of disappointment? Last | Top | Next

Sunday, 24 March 2002 (working through the nail) 9:34am Hi, mom. 10:46am The neighbors have two garbage cans in the entryway, and both are now filled. This can only mean one thing: they're having company over for the Academy Awards. Just another reason to dread this day. In fairness, we also did some cleaning in anticipation of guests yesterday—Phred's coming over this evening, though thankfully she's no more interested in the show than we are—but we don't have weeks (months?) worth of accumulated trash as a result. I'm also guessing they haven't checked lately to see if their doorbell is working. They're doing a lot of stomping around upstairs and out front, though, so they'll have ample opportunity. I'm sure they will. They're mature, responsible adults, right? Last | Top | Next

Saturday, 23 March 2002 (church of anthrax) 6:49am Note to self: when your body has becomed accustomed to vegetables and steamed rice, go easy on the Dim Sum. Last | Top | Next

Friday, 22 March 2002 (LHOOQ) 12:57pm So, after much gnashing of teeth (and some gentle encouragement from Maddy), I wrote him. I realize you meant it as a joke, but I'd like to ask that you never intentionally call me Jeff again. Slipups will happen and I accept that (and I sincerely apologize for accidentally calling you Lew—it had been a long day, I was preoccupied and had been primarily working with him), but being called by my old name on purpose feels very hurtful and disrespectful. Thanks. s. He wrote back a short while later: I meant it in jest and realized as soon as I said it that it was NOT funny. I sincerely apologize. (I'll also apologize, in advance, if I slip.) So that, I hope, is that. I wonder how long it'll be before this sort of thing is addressed in non-harrassment training. Probably not until the first lawsuit... Last | Top | Next

Thursday, 21 March 2002 (in the library of force) 5:41pm In Fresno, among the many banes of my existence was constantly being called my brothers' names. It didn't help that the four of us all had the same first initial; hell, my mom frequently stumbled, going down the list before getting to mine. The current equivalent, of course, is people calling me by my old name. It stings every time it happens, and the frequent pronoun slips don't feel very good either. I shrug them off, because I must. What can I do? Get upset? Not an option. So a little while ago, my my brain occupied with work and going in a million different directions, I accidentally called a coworker by the wrong name. It wasn't to his face—I was sorta half turned around in my chair, and I was telling him that I'd sent out an email he'd been waiting for—but I had a brain hiccup and called him Lew, who already left for the day. (He's also, along with Pike and Leigh, has been very comfortable with the changes). He responded, no doubt thinking it was the height of cleverness, "Thanks, Jeff." His tone made it clear that it was intentional. It felt very, very wrong of him, and the more I think about it the more pissed I get. But, again, my options are limited. Besides, he drives an SUV and a Friday or two ago kept yammering about how much he'd "rather be on the slopes." What can I expect? And he knew me before. I have yet to be in a work situation where that isn't the case. I wonder, though, how the guy from the staffing agency thinks of me. There's no question that he knows I'm a tranny, but he doesn't know my old name, and being a flaming gay boy he's probably cool with it. He's also Dino's agent, and I heard the two of them talking on the phone recently, and when referring to me for some reason Dino got the pronouns wrong. He immediately corrected himself, but I wonder if the damage was done. I wonder if, having heard me referred to as "he," now thinks of me that way. Maybe he can't help it. Maybe nobody but Maddy can. Hell, Maggie probably still thinks of me as a boy, since she of course is a real girl and unaccustomed to these things. Last | Top | Next