If I Was Born With a Penis

12 02 2018


What would you look like as the opposite sex?….An app that seems to be the newest Facebook craze going around has got me thinking about not only what would I look like (which according to the app is closer to aging white trash serial killer with terrible facial hair and a possible meth problem than any man I’d want to look like) but what would I BE like if I had been born with a penis instead?

According to my parents my name would be Bryan Buck, which I believe would not have been the best start for a boy born in rural Kansas. Or maybe it would have been the best start, who can really know for sure.

I do know that when an asshole male classmate was cheating off of my math test in 5th grade that my teacher wouldn’t have said to me, “There’s no way he’d cheat off of a dumb girl like you.”

I know that I wouldn’t have been told by my English teacher in 9th grade that Shakespeare was “above my comprehension.”

Or in 7th grade algebra, I wouldn’t have been forced to sit in the corner with the girls so they could “chat,” while the boys learned math because girls were “too dumb to get it.” I would have at least been taught something, whether I did anything with it, who would know.

I know I wouldn’t have been forced to put on a shirt in the heat of summer when I was five years old because a group of my dad’s friends had pulled into the driveway… because boys can go around without shirts on whenever they want no matter how old they are, not just at Burning Man or nudist colonies or in the privacy of their own bedrooms.

I probably would have become a hunter, like my dad. Worked in the oil wells, like my dad. Or maybe a mechanic or a factory worker. I’d probably still be living in Kansas and have a wife and three kids. Or I would have become a pothead like my cousin. Ended up in jail. I most likely would know how to crush a 30 pack of natty light in one night, that’s pretty much a given.

I hope that I would not have been like most of the guys in my high school class who thought it was okay to grab women’s breasts during gym class, during lunch, in the hallways. Guys who would get blackout drunk and piss themselves at parties. Or puke in woods and then come back and try to make out with girls who were not quite as drunk. Or if the woman was quite drunk, I hope I wouldn’t have been one of those guys who thought it was okay to have sex with her while she was passed out. Or thought that a woman “owed” me because she was my girlfriend and had sex with her even though she said no. I hope I would not have been one of those guys who slut-shamed women who didn’t like me back. I hope I would not have been like a typical guy.

Yet, I was not born with a penis. And of course, like any curious person, I have wondered what it would be like to pee standing up, but I don’t necessarily have envy for one. Maybe white male-privilege envy but if that means being like a typical guy from my neck of the woods I’m very grateful I was born Krystal Fawn and not Bryan Buck.

Plus, I would not have been a very cute dude.


(I really didn’t want to show this to anyone, but there you have it.)

10 Randoms: Why Not Make That a Habit?

13 11 2012

1.) Writing a novel in a month is hard and easy at the same time. It’s hard because it’s writing a freaking novel in a month, but it’s easy because it forces me to write daily without worrying about how good it is. It can just flow out, good, bad, beautiful, it doesn’t matter because the requirement is not to write the most life changing work of all time, the only thing I have to do is get to 50,000 words (and hope that there is at least some sort of story there).

2.) I’ve been reading this book called The Power of Habit and it’s actually pretty fascinating. Habit formation is basic, once you have a habit you can always change it, but it never completely goes away. It seems like the best way to create new (positive) habits is have a reward for accomplishing the routine. The cue+routine+reward formula of habits. I’ve started getting up every morning to exercise. My cue is that I set out the workout I’m going to do the night before, along with my clothes and shoes. I tell myself that if I can get through the workout I can have a cup of coffee. I have just started doing it this week, but I can see it turning into something regular. It’s nice because it’s true what changing one habit can do to the rest of my life. For instance, now that I have to get up so early I’m not drinking as much, I actually haven’t drank at all since Saturday–which doesn’t seem like long to the average citizen but for me it is.

3. Emily and I have decided to stay in this apartment for another six months. So Denver, deal with it. You’ll be putting up with me a little bit longer.

4.) Have you ever sneezed right after you swallowed something but didn’t quite swallow everything and little bits of food flew out of your mouth? Me either.

5.) It’s so dry here. Yesterday I put lotion at least 15 times on my hands. Today I washed a few dishes and they’ve already completely cracked out.

6.) Stuffing may be my favorite food.

7.) I’m heading back to Kansas this weekend. It’s been quite some time since I’ve been there last. I can’t even remember when. Last December? Could it have been that long? Wow. Memory would be helpful here.

People make fun of Kansas often, but I don’t get offended, they don’t know all of Kansas’s secrets and that’s a loss for them, not me.

My KS backyard.

8. I feel really good about my tv script too, I just need to get my ass in gear about editing it. Working on multiple writing projects technically is the most difficult part of this month, hence why there have been so few of these.

9.) Also, in big news, I don’t care about guys anymore. Yep. That’s right. I’m over them. It’s refreshing.

10.) Last night my neighbor finally stopped smoking crack and dancing in front of the window. I went outside to take a writing break and I heard him screaming at the top of his lungs. I couldn’t see him–the only time when I have wanted to of course–I wonder if his dealer cut him off? Or if he was talking to his mother. Or girlfriend. I don’t know how any person could handle him, I’m pretty sure he’s schizophrenic. I should really invest in curtains so I can’t see him and more importantly he can’t see me.