Aiden Ryler Champion

 I got the scholarship to the Carolina's Youth Leadership Conference and the HRC Gala.
And I am more excited than any amount of exclamation points could express.

Now I have to find something to wear...
The invitation says the conference is casual but the Gala is festive/black tie.
So do I need a suit?  Or khakis and a shirt and tie?
Gack.  I'm bad at this stuff.
I will most definately be asking Laura.

Started the new job today and as a result have many fresh paper cuts.
Aahh.
I guess that's what I get for handling files.
It's a really good job and really quite easy.
Somewhat tedious, but it pays well.
So I don't mind.

I think I may go to bed soon.
I'm tired.

I seriously had the best weekend ever.
I spent all of it with Laura, just chilling.
Last night we went to this little vintage shop where she volunteers in Charlotte called Century Vintage and watched this old movie with Mick Jagger in it.
I forgot how sexy he was.
That store is also a YAY.
So much awesome stuff everywhere.
And they show these awesome movies in the back upon occassion and call it the Patchwerk Playhaus.
All the people are Bohemian and awesome.
I'm so impressed.

I start my new job tomorrow.
Excited!

 I've listened to the Sweeney Todd soundtrack at least forty times today.
I don't know.
I think I'm going on a Sondheim trip again, where I listen to his music for days on end and my writing becomes really thick and wordy.
Damn.
And I have a paper due too.

Social Committee meeting tomorrow with PRIDE.
This is a YAY.
We're having a ball.
And somehow, I got involved.
Whatever works.
It means an hour less of Intro to Ed.

I finally found a label for the degree I'll be getting.
So now instead of calling it the "Dabbling Bachelor's degree" or "that damn peice of paper" I can officially call it a Bachelor's of Social Work.
Hoorah.

Job starts Monday with the incredibly smiley Donna Mack, who seems downright awesome.  
Hopefully seeing Laura this weekend.
Also of the YAY.

I am now going to go take a shower and sleep.
And stop listening to Sweeney Todd.
I swear I'm going to start quoting Sondheim in my sleep.
Something tells me that that would be creepy.
Can you imagine?
You hear someone talking and as you get closer you notice that their asleep and all of a sudden they start going, "Give me your bleeders..." or singing about making human meat pies.
I'd probably cry.

Tomorrow is going to be WAY too fucking busy.
Somehow I have to be in Terri's office by 10am for a fifty minute session but also be at a meeting with my English professor about the content of the paper I'm currently working on at 10.30. 
And I have Psych at 11.
Damn.
Fortunately, MusicApp isn't until 3.30.

Valentine's Day is February 14th.
Usually not a day I spend doing anything special.
But not this year.
I am doting on my significant other.
I haven't had the chance to do this in a long ass time so I'm really looking forward to it.
No details.
I want to say Laura occassionally reads this...

I need to write the rough draft of my paper sometime between now and midnight so I actually have something to discuss when I meet with Prof. Wilson tomorrow.
I just hope my first line grabs her attention.
And is appropriate.
She did say to write something that makes the reader want to continue reading.
I figured a mention of genitals might do the trick...
(Don't ask.)

Oh, dear.
Heath Ledger is gone.
He'll be sorely missed.
He was an amazing actor.

I have a new friend living on my window sill.
His name is Charlay.
And he's a goose.

I have no idea why he's here.
He missed Florida by a long shot.
And no matter what I do, he won't go away.
He woke me up this morning.
Oh, well.
I need to find my camera so I can take a picture.

 I had the BEST WEEKEND EVER.
I'll spare you the details.

And I don't feel like singing tonight
All the same songs...

 I feel so down.
So unmotivated.
I have a class at 12:30 and as much as I try to force myself to get ready and look over the course materials, I know I'm not going.
I've been in this funk for the past week or so.
And I really need to suck it up and get out of it.
I'm tired of being tired all the time.
Last night I sat down and wrote out everything that's been bugging me.
I feel slightly better.
But not by much.
I have no idea what to do.
Help?

 It snowed for the first time in forever.
I'm pretty sure that the apocalypse is on its way in.
What else could possibly explain snow in Charlotte?

At least it gave me a chance to finish all my homework and do some catching up on sleep.
There was no reason for them to cancel classes but they did.
And it was fine by me.
I haven't gotten that much sleep in a long time.

So how's everyone else?

 I just took a shower.
And I have to say, what on earth is wrong with the water in this building?
Yesterday the showers were so hot I nearly burnt all my skin off.
I literally got out and turned pink.
This morning it was frigid.
I think once I felt a tinge of heat but I may have imagined it.
I'm so cold I'm shaking.
And I don't know if this is something I should call maitenence about or just let it be.
Actually, I think for now I'm just going to sit here, wrapped up in my blanket and pretend I don't have to be somewhere at 11.
Gah, I'm cold.

So I think I have decided to go through with the one thing I swore up and down I would never do.
I'm going to find my parents.
My birth parents.
The ones that gave me up September 10, 1988.
I have to know.
I can't live with this image of what and who they were in my head.
I have to know what happened.
I know why.
But I want to really know.
I don't want the "they were too young" version.
I want to know what it feels like to give birth to a child, hold that tiny life in your arms and be selfless enough to let them go.
Or maybe they were forced.
I don't know.
But I want to.
I have trouble giving people back their babies when I've been holding them.
I can't imagine what it feels like to give away a child that was part of you for nine months.
To me, it sounds like unexpressable agony.
Complete overwhelming sorrow.
But I have no idea.
I'm so afraid, though, that if I find them, I'm going to ruin their lives.
Nineteen years have passed between my birth and now.
Nineteen years.
They probably have families.
Or maybe a family.
I may have siblings or half-siblings.
I wonder if they ever wonder about me.
For me, they are an explanation for why I look nothing like anyone in my family.
Why they are tan dark haired people of average height and I am a pale short redhead.  
With freckles.
No one in my family has freckles.
I am covered in fucking spots.
Any more and I could have a tan.
And I am not kidding.
So I guess the first step is to get my sealed birth certificate unsealed.
And I imagine that's going to be a pain in the ass.
The adoption was sealed so that my parents would never meet or know the names of my birthparents.
I can have it unsealed now that I'm over 18.
But I have no idea what that requires.
I'm assuming a large stack of paperwork, lots of proof of ID and residence and probably a Hokey-Pokey or two just to be on the safe side.
Of course to do all of the above, I have to drive to Aiken, SC, land of my birth, which requires two hours and thirty-two minutes of driving according to MapQuest.
Yay.
It's 3:49am and I am so tired I'm seeing two computers and I keep thinking that the people having sex in the dorm next door are moaning my name.
I think sleep is in order.
'Night, folks.

x-posted to my transition journal, http://evolutionaryman.livejournal.com

 So tired.
Cannot/will not go to class today.
Only missing one anyway.
Syllabus says we're still going over syllabus anyway.
Sleep sounds good.
Awakened all night by dumbass in parking lot blaring horn.
Next time, he dies.
I sleep.
'Night everybody.

 I'm so sick and tired of peope just assuming I don't do anything.
You spend one day in my shoes and then you're allowed to tell me what I do and don't do.

I have five classes that mother basically hand picked.
And if I drop even one, they withdraw their support on the loan.
Which means I have no loan and no way to pay for school.
I have a job.
And it's not a good job.
I answer phones and fill out paperwork and basically do bitch work for the school.
But at least I can start paying off loans.
I have to attend mandatory counselling.
Not because I threatened to hurt anyone or myself or anything.
Because my physical gender and my gender identity don't match.
And I'm going through with the therapy because at the end of three months I get a letter.
And that letter is like my golden ticket.
Good things happen with that letter.
My parents and I aren't really on good terms either.

And through all this bullshit and the lack of sleep, I'm making it.
Barely.
So how 'bout the next time you go accusing me of doing nothing but taking a few classes, think.
Because next time I'm not going to be as nice about it.

 I'm so tired of my mother trying to run my education.
I UNDERSTAND that they're co-signed on the loan.
I UNDERSTAND that they want what's best for me.
But I DON'T understand why on Earth she has to call my counselor and fix everything up for me.
I'm going Monday and having a word with the dean of students.
There has to be a way to prevent them from messing with my schedule.
My mother doesn't believe its a full-time schedule.
I say sixteen credit hours is OVER a full-time schedule.
My mother doesn't believe I'm taking required classes.
Maybe it hasn't occured to her but a) the two liberal studies classes that I'm taking are mandatory GED classes and if she knew me half as well as she claims she'd know I'd never take them just because and b) music classes ARE mandatory for a music major.  Funny how that should work out like that.
Someone please explain to me how Music History and Music Theory AREN'T music classes.
And she's throwing a fit over me taking guitar.
For the LOVE OF GOD WOMAN, guitar is an instrument. 
To be a music major you have to participate in an instrumental ensemble at least once before you graduate.
I can't do that if I don't play an instrument envolved in some kind of ensemble.
So I'm taking guitar to learn an instrument to be part of an ensemble.
I don't know how much more I can say.
It's pretty basic, or so I thought.

I think my mother is reliving her college days through me.
Or at least she's trying.
She's trying to force me into what she calls 'practical' classes that have absolutely nothing to do with my major.
She had a fit because I signed up for a few music classes.
Imagine a music major signing up for music classes!
It's an outrage!

She hung up on me because I got so frustrated with her cutting me off midsentence and talking over me that I finally shouted "shut up" into the phone.
It wasn't the smartest move and I regret it but I can't stand it when she won't even let me finish a sentence.
It's like my opinion doesn't matter to her.
My choices don't matter to her.
If it doesn't fit into her little plan for me then she has to do away with it.
In her mind, I'm going to grow up to be someone's pretty housewife with 2.5 kids and a puppy named Fido.
My husband will have a well-paying honest job.
We'll love each other and be really religious and live in a little house in a cute suburb.
I think I might gag.
I'm most likely going to marry someone I love with a passion and fight with.
The people I love the most and I argue.  That's just the way it is.
The best relationships I've been in have been hot-headed and passionate.
I like it that way.
I might have kids.
Probably.
I want at least one.
A dog wouldn't be too bad.
A cat too.
Maybe some other miscellaneous animals.
I'll work in music and my SO wil do whatever makes them happy.
I don't know who'll cook or clean or whatever and I don't care.
We probably won't be all that religious and we'll probably live in a city.
Because suburbs make my skin crawl.
Especially ones in the Bible Belt.

I'm going to go work on my class schedule and figure out what all I need to do tomorrow.
I feel like I need to be organized.
It makes me feel better.

 I have the strange urge to punch a wall and break down in tears all at once.

I'm doing everything I know to do and I'm drowning here.
I spent most of yesterday in a panic, trying to reach Cami.
Finally found out she's grounded.

My parents and I have been fighting and it finally culminated into a "we love you but hate your lifestyle" lecture yesterday evening.
They still have no idea though I think they're slowly beginning to figure things out.
Not good.
I still need books and I have no way to pay for them currently.
I owe $116 for a counselling session that my insurance doesn't cover and I'm in debt $30 to Crystal for New Years.
And I'm still working on getting my part of the down payment on that apartment so I can get away from the all-girl's floor of the dorm.

I haven't seen anyone in forever and there's a select few I'm starting to understand I won't hear from.
Anthony's back in Florida and Emily's headed by to Western Carolina with her girlfriend.
I attempted to ask her to hang out tonight and wound up sounding like English isn't my first language.

Kari wound up in my dorm for the millionth time today and we had a chat about penises and my haircut (she's like that...I guess you have to know her).  She's hysterical and it's been so long since I've seen her without Eric on her heels.

Shane and Nicole got engaged and I'm really happy for them and slightly jealous.

Savannah and I broke up after a whole four days.
Apparently her mother is not cool with me.
I'll just add her to the long list of parent's that dislike me.

I'm starting to think I permanently fucked things up with a few people (to remain nameless) as I can't get a response from them whatsoever.
And it's irritating.
Because I swear I'm not creepy like that.
My roommate was.

One thing that I am glad about: being out of my old dorm.
I swear I thought I was going to have to smother my roommate to get some peace.

So here I sit, watching Psych, trolling around on Facebook, and trying to think up an answer to the only comment I've gotten in decades (and still remain coherent about everything.)

Someone please bless me with the ability to speak English.  I'm having trouble remembering how tonight.

Oh, man.
Last night was New Years.
And I had the best time.  Best New Years Ever.
At least, in a really long time.

Yesterday started at 8am, an hour with which Cami and I have not made ourselves familiar.  We went through our usual morning routine, which envolves showers, breakfast, feeding the cat and a lot of swearing.  Then we went to the DMV.
Where we were then told that the birth certificate that Cami had did not in fact certify that she was born.  So we went back to her house and got the real one and went back to the DMV.
Then we waited for THREE FUCKING HOURS.  To get an id so Cami could get into Scorpio's.  At least the people we were waiting with were entertained.  We spent most of the wait calling each other dumbasses or cracking Wu-Tang jokes.  Then Cami skipped in and out of the DMV.  It was the weirdest DMV visit ever.
We spent the rest of the day chilling.
Until 5, when Cami made the best homemade chicken parmesian I've had in a long time.  And I attempted to wing a pasta dish (never do that, by the way).  
Crystal, Cami and I ate and then the girls took forever to get ready.
We made it to Scorpios by 9.30.  And no one was there.  So we stood awkwardly in the corner until Anthony, Emily, Emily's girlfriend (her name escapes me) and Rachel showed up.
Then the party got started.
I've never been much of a dancer but damn.  
Somehow I ended up between Crystal and Emily.  THAT was the best part of the night.  Then Emily went to try and convince Cami to dance, leaving Anthony and I with a "I know this is awkward but you two dance."
That stopped right there.  We both shoved our hands in our pockets, gave each other the "What up?" nod and bopped alone to the beat.
New Year's came with balloons dropped on us from the ceiling and a lot of shouting.

I'm so tired.  
It's ridiculous.
I think I might just watch House and sleep.

 So I finally got around to starting a transition journal, though I don't have anything posted yet.
If you want to be added on there, go to http://evolutionaryman.livejournal.com.
It's friends only.

I  realize I wrote a depressing and somewhat self-destructive post not ten minutes but I would like to revoke some of what I wrote.
Because something amazing has happened in the last five minutes.

I, AIDEN RYLER CHAMPION, HAVE A GIRLFRIEND.

Yes, you heard right.
And I'm so fucking happy I could skip.
And I swore the other day that I would never ever skip.

I AM SKIPPING.
RIGHT NOW.