As the surreal hellscape of 2017 winds to a close, it’s time to look back on the past year of blogging and pick out some high points my dear readers might have missed. So, for your enjoyment, here are ten of Alyssa’s proudest creations of 2017.
Imagining a transfeminine Dipper Pines. CN transantagonism
The music wasn’t as loud as it could have been. The high-school gymnasium had been redone in streamers, conifer branches, refreshment tables, and dimmed lights, which all took a lot of effort that seemed not to have also gone into the sound system. The other students didn’t seem to hear anything unusual, but then, they grew up here.
“I think Mabel’s karaoke set had better acoustics,” Dipper mused aloud as she sipped some raspberry punch. Her green dress snagged on the clamp holding the nearby tablecloth in place and she quickly recovered it. “Did they make these walls out of wool?”
“I think they might have,” Pacifica answered, looking around the room. “There was a year when the school ran out of money and took some…weird shortcuts with the new buildings.”
“That might be the most Gravity Falls thing that has ever happened.”
“And you haven’t even seen the Prom Pine yet,” Pacifica answered, smirking.
Dipper blinked incredulously. “The what?”
Today, we are candles.
CN clothing ads, including lingerie
I really like this ad.
I arranged a question-and-answer session on my Facebook profile on this year’s Trans Day of Visibility. My friends and other visitors brought up some amusing, interesting, and valuable questions. For posterity’s sake, that’s all here now.
- Isn’t having the superpower of invisibility the other 364 days of the year awesome?
It’s kind of disappointing, really. It makes it so much harder to get appreciation for all of these selfies.
I told myself I wouldn’t write this. I told myself this was a conversation that, quite frankly, no one outside the transgender and especially transfeminine community has any business in having. I told myself that indulging this topic at all is dangerous in a world where the idea that men and trans women have anything socially in common gets people killed. Yet here we are.
Pokémon fanfiction has a fairly high barrier for entry, even for readers. As of the most recent update to Bulbapedia, there are 941 episodes of the Pokémon anime that have been broadcast in English, and several more available in the original Japanese, with 19 movies set between them. This adds up to more than 347 hours of viewing—more than 14 continuous days—accumulated over the twenty years that the Pokémon cartoon has aired on American television. This is an undertaking for obsessives of a caliber far, far greater than mine, and is certainly not necessary for understanding or appreciating my Trans Team Rocket fanfiction universe. So, I have prepared a curated viewing list to enable would-be admirers of my fiction to apprise themselves of necessary backstory before diving into the Trans Team Rocket world. Continue reading “Trans Team Rocket Viewing Guide”
CN suicide, transmisogyny, violence
To the endless bafflement of people whose sense of ethical behavior does not include driving strangers to self-harm, the transgender community faces intense hostility. What is interesting in our case is that people with extraordinarily different overall ideologies come to equally intense hatred of transgender people in general and trans women in particular, and this makes some words we are tempted to use to encompass all of our detractors a poor fit. This brings is to that famously deadly group, the TERFs.
In late November 2014, I discovered that I am a transgender woman. In March 2015, I began speaking to a therapist in pursuit of hormone replacement therapy. In September 2015, I received my spironolactone prescription. In October 2015, that was joined by estrogen, and in May 2016 by progesterone.
It has been 17 months of being Alyssa, in place after place, until the only pretending left was for government files. There are steps in my journey I am stalled from taking, trapped in bureaucratic hell and financial purgatory. But when I look back on where I was then, and what I look like now, they don’t feel quite so urgent.