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Feminine Character Works

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Adding an archive. It takes forever because I also go through and change embedded videos to links, check for typos and try to address other quality issues.

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I'll never actually be "good enough" and I'm actually very okay with that.

This blog is, in some sense, an ode to my badass mother whose shoes are too big for me to fill. My mom thinks I'm a loser. I have a form of cystic fibrosis and I'm getting well when that is not supposed to be possible, but I'm dirt fucking poor and spent years homeless and I owe money. My dad had cancer in his late sixties. He was supposed to die from it. He had lost like half his body weight by the time he was diagnosed and the surgery that was supposed to take two hours took six. Even the doctors acknowledged my mother kept dad alive, not them, and took advice from HER on how to up their game. He lived another two decades. She did it without piling up ANY debt even though the American medical system is known to ruin people financially on a regular basis. She worked as a maid for many years and had the keys to the homes of a bunch of rich people. If my dad was having a good day and she felt she could leave him alone for two hours, she made ONE phone call and w...

The Name Game

If I were famous, which I'm definitely NOT, my Wikipedia page would likely list me as Doreen Michele Traylor ( née Stanfield) . This is a tell all piece and will dig through the dirt of my life and how that has impacted my choices as to what to call myself. I don't have any delusions I'm all SPECIAL. I'm sure lots of other women have had some of the same or similar issues in life and wrestled with what to do about it. If you are CURRENTLY wrestling with it, perhaps my personal anecdotes will help you sort your issue. This is also a gendered issue . Maybe laying it out will be a little pebble in the world's ongoing efforts to sort out sometimes stupidly hard problems that seem like they shouldn't be that bad. Growing up, I was Doreen to most people -- except my German mother who added an -a sound to the end of that. She called me Dorina when I was little. She couldn't actually pronounce my name. Most people who speak German or Spanish as a firs...

The Glass Ceiling

I'm divorced. During my divorce I intentionally scrubbed my casual conversation of all personal details about my future ex because if I mentioned his hair color, men with that hair color would act like "I'm in like Flynn!" and men with other hair colors would act like kicked puppies, as if I had just buttonholed them, called them by name and said "Fuck you in particular. I will NEVER date you!" To me it always looked amazingly stupid. As someone once said to me "Why not assume the opposite? She's DIVORCING (guy with that hair color)! She'll never want a man with that hair color AGAIN! She HATES (that hair color)!" After scrubbing my language of ALL personal details about any guy I ever had any romantic connection to no matter how slight, I got more satisfactory results. Men no longer prescreened themselves based on incredibly unimportant details like hair color. They had to really talk to me and get to know me and I was much happier with ho...

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