The Half-Made Woman

EDIT 2: Now my intro has a picture of a shetland pony on it instead of my face. Terrific.

EDIT 1: This is muh fashe. I would show you how stacked I am, but I don't have any good recent pics of me and my #boobs atm.

Image of My Fashe

Heyo! It's always difficult for me to write an intro like this. To summon the words from the void and bring them to bear on a blank white window. However, it tends to be once I find my voice, then I start humming along and the words simply flow from me. (I love hitting Flow) Someone else posted on here about the purpose of steemit being, at least in it's current iteration, a place for people to tell their stories to the world. To be #authentic, creative, and honest with no judgement. Okay, maybe I made up that last part (no judgement) from the my closet optimism, but hey - let's give it a shot and see what happens here.

This is my first post here. I learned about steemit (is it all lowercase? Mixed case? Someone please solve this enigma for me!) a few hours ago. I was at work. I was chomping at the bit to get home and see what it was all about. During that time, my brain was whirling over what I should offer the community. I have a short book of #poetry. I have loose pieces of poetry. I have a script for a play (unproduced). I have the script for a movie that's based on a book that I loved when I was a kid - that I probably shouldn't post because of copyright issues. Let's nix that one. I have photography. And I have myself - I have my every day hum-drum weirdo amazing extraordinary boring roller-coaster #life. I could write a #blog. The blog of a half-made woman.

So, I saw that post. And now I feel like a jackass for not taking down his name. I didn't even upvote him! I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS THING WORKS. So, to random guy who said heartfelt things and imparted to me the impetus to put my shit out their for the world to rate - a heartfelt thank you and I hope to come back around and upvote you. Eventually. Some day. I'm kind of a jack ass sometimes.

I like lists. I'm going to use a #list to introduce myself. I'm going to list a whole bunch of stuff about me RIGHT NOW in fact. And it will be completely honest. Except for the stuff that I have to smudge, obfuscate, and obscure to keep my job and save my friends, family, and acquaintances a whole lot of heartache and embarrassment. (really - so I don't get sued).

Ready? You sure? There's gunna be some crazy shit in here! Okay? Let's pull the trigger, bitches!

I'm in my third decade.
I'm scare I'm not going to leave a legacy - am I a bit young to start being scared about that?
I work in IT. I'm a software #developer.
I play video #games. Way too much. Particularly, this year. My thumbs have started hurting. Is there such a thing as carpel tunnel for your thumbs? Cuz I have it. I'm so screwed cuz I type ALL DAY LONG.
I'm a woman. It's pretty cool, except when it really sucks.
I have a daughter. She's a teenager. I might talk about her some times. She's the best daughter in the world.
I write stuff. I just finished a #screenplay this past week, in fact. Different than the one mentioned up above. This one is an adaptation of an AMAZING hard sci-fi book. I hope I can work with the author to get the rights or partner or something so I can shop it around to the streaming services.
I read. Science fiction mostly.
I like #women. They're soft.
I'm white.
I make a grilled cheese sandwich to write home to mama about.
I feel like I'm typing out the intro on a dating site. What the heck.
I'm on OkCupid and POF and LGBTQutie (cuz I'm a woman who likes women. Cuz they're soft. Still).
My cat's ghetto name is Butt Pie. She jiggles when she runs. It's the best.
I read comic books. My current reads are Saga, Sex Criminals, The Walking Dead...some other ones...
I'm about seventy thousand dollars in debt. I shit you not. And I can't pay that off. Ever. And like 50k of that is medical debt because:
I have #gender #dysphoria and just to live with myself, I've had to take care of (read: reconstruct) some various physical characteristics of my body. It's not fun. I wouldn't wish it on anybody.
I would wish it on Donald Trump.
I realize that last line will date this post. So much for leaving a lasting legacy.
My car's name is Storrm. (sic)
I'm afraid I'm boring you now. Now I'm self-conscious.

If you've made this far: you get a pony*! It's fun to write like this, and I sincerely hope y'all enjoyed my post. If I get enough upvotes, I'll be back to write some more like this from the deepest darkest reaches of my mind and heart and guts. I know you've always wanted to know what I'm thinking when I look into your eyes. You know I know. Yes. I will also answer questions sincerely. Want to know how weird it is to have to wipe away sweat from under your #boobs? Or how parenting drives you nuts but it's one of the most rewarding endeavors evar? Why my cat has a ghetto name and why it's butt pie? Then upvote this thang and post a question below!

Skky out.

*Disclaimer: Pony is not actually real.