No, I'm not talking about an incident at school. Or an article about my dim, dark, secret, sultry life. (I should merit such an article!)
Besides, anyone who's googled my name knows about all the things such an article would mention. Why, my father just recently googled my name and found things that shocked him in ways I could have only dreamed of when I was an adolescent!
So what closet have I been dragged out of?
It seems that a very intelligent man named Ed McGon, who's commented on two of my recent posts, has found an article that I wrote for a kinda sorta right-wing website.
Actually, I've written a few articles for Lew Rockwell's site. I haven't written for them as much during the past year as I had during the previous few, partly because I was busy with one thing and another. And, frankly, I started to feel a little out of place there: It seems that lately a lot of the articles have been about hoarding gold and guns. Now, I'm not keen on owning a gun, and don't think I'd ever acquire one unless I could see no other way to defend myself or anyone I love. I simply don't want to add to the violence that already burdens this world. As for gold...well, who wouldn't want some?
I first started reading Lew's site a few years ago because some of its writers were offering the most cogent and eloquent denunciations of the Iraq war I've seen. Some of those writers also explained something I had long intuited: that such wars are inevitable when states grow in their reach as well as in their size. I won't get into that here; after all, you're not reading this post for that. Right?
My most recent article was a slight revision of my Recovery Without the Telly post. Ed mentioned that he saw it on LR and liked it. He also said that while he agrees with my decision to give up TV, he won't give up his computer or internet connection. I feel the same way.
I thought about becoming the world's first (to my knowledge, anyway) Luddite tranny. Or Amish "girl." Having just had the operation, I'd give up all sorts of technology--like the ones that are allowing you, dear reader, to see this post!
Now I'll tell you another terrible (!) secret about me: I didn't even touch a computer until I was 41 years old. (OK, so now you know I'm over 40!) I really hoped to get through life without using one, much less a cell phone. Now, like most of you, I cannot imagine life without them.
And it's even more difficult for me to imagine my transition without these technologies. I was reminded of that today, when a fellow alumna of Trinidad called to ask me a question about dilation. I won't get into specifics here, but suffice it to say that it's not the sort of question you'd ask your neighbor, best friend or family member. I say that not because the question would be "inappropriate," but because none of those people is likely to know the answer. Even here in New York, you have a better chance of finding an albino peacock than of finding anyone among your immediate circle of acquaintances who knows anything about post-op issues.
I can't begin to tell you how much information pertaining to hormones, transitioning, surgery and related isssues I found on the internet, whether on websites or through correspondence with others--some of whom I may never meet.
Imagine how much more difficult and time-consuming those things would have been if I didn't have the Internet and a calling plan that costs about as much as one single call I made back in the day.
And, yes, all that technology made it possible for people like Ed to find out my secrets. Oh well. Why would I want to be the world's first Luddite tranny, anyway? The shock value, if there is any, doesn't interest me.
Besides, if my parents know my secrets, where are there any closets left?
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