Okay, I didn't know who the hell I was before I watched Oprah. That right, fucking Oprah. Most likely, a regular teenage boy would be mentally disturbed if he watched the black lady interview some creep that just went out of jail. Which she normally does. But, on this Tuesday afternoon they did a show about sexuality. I thought I was in for the worst hour of my life, but it wasn't too bad.
They got all these transgender out. I never heard of a transgender in my life, before this gorgeous blonde lady, came out of the room were all of the celebrities come out of.
"What the hell?" I said, mom put her hand on her lips, obviously totally memorized.
"Shh!" She said, completely shutting me up. Turned out this lady used to be a guy. A freaking man. Okay, why am I watching this is beyond me. Mom told me to spend time with her, so I did. Next thing I know, Oprah's interviewing a transgender, and I am hooked!
But the funny thing is, I don't think I'm mentally disturbed.
Back to the topic, so I'm staring wide eyed at her before and after photos. She was quoting all the things that I feel.
"I didn't feel me. You know, like I didn't belong in this body." Number one, that may sound wrong of so many levels but turns out, it happens! Like me, I don't feel me. Her quote says it all! So know, this must seem so… Unreal? I mean this is coming from Danny Fenton. The Danny Fenton, who saved the world, and he's watching Oprah, and agreeing to quotes from a transgender.
"My family was in disbelief, when they found out." The girl spoke. "I had a girlfriend, and I was just faking myself. I didn't love her. I fell in love with my guy friend, and then I solved the puzzle. I had the pieces, but I couldn't find a way to fit them together." I nodded, but didn't realize it. Then the show ended with a big applause.
"That was interesting." My mother commented. "Poor people. They must have gotten so much hatred. Some people don't like them. They think God made them and their disobeying him."
"That's stupid." My mother nodded.
"Yes. Well, I got to get Dinner started." Then got up, and walked into the kitchen. I still sat there, soaking everything in. I grabbed my laptop, which was next to me, and started searching transgender.
Transsexualism is an individual's identification with a gender inconsistent or not culturally associated with their biological sex. A medical diagnosis can be made if a person experiences discomfort as a result of a desire to be a member of the opposite sex,[1] or if a person experiences impaired functioning or distress as a result of that gender identification.
[2] Transsexualism is stigmatized in many parts of the world but has become more widely known in Western culture in the mid to late 20th century, concurrently with the sexual revolution and the development of sex reassignment surgery. It remains controversial, however. Discrimination and negative attitudes towards transsexualism often accompany certain religious beliefs or cultural values. There are cultures that have no difficulty integrating people who change gender roles, often holding them with high regard, such as the traditional role for 'two-spirit' people found among certain native American tribes.[3]
I sat there looking at it, then Jazz came in.
"What's up, little brother?" She asked. I quickly closed my laptop, and smiled..
"Just finishing homework." I replied, I turned it off and went into the kitchen setting my laptop on the counter.
"Oh hey Danny! Can you set the table? Dinner's almost ready."
"Sure." I said, I wanted to think about that article more. Just to visualize it, I'm weird that way. I was going slow, but Jazz or mom didn't notice. There were totally fighting over Monourmer a recipe that she and mom made up.
It sounds really disgusting but it is so good. It is a soup that has, butter for broth, chicken, carrots, apple, orange, taco meat, fried ham, chili powder, apple juice, peppermint tea, tiny blueberry muffins pieces, fudge, and (best part!) 1 cup of cow stomach soup.
Delicious.
Why do we have cow stomach soup in the first place? A relative from Poland brought us some, and mom accidently poured it in. Just like with the rest of the ingredients. She was accidently put on crazy pills instead of numb medication for her broken arm. That is how Monourmer was made.
"Dinner is ready!" Mom called. Satisfied, I sat down, with the rest of the family following me. We sat down with the bowls ready. Practically begging for more in the bowl, I got the most. That gave a death stare from Jazz. I grinned in response, as I dug in.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm!" I closed my eyes, to let them know that bite was awesome. I heard Jazz sigh.
"It's just soup."
"It's just soup!" I cried, my eyes shooting open. "Are you insane? This soup is the leader of soup, the master, the god!" My presentation was a success. She looked like she was just slapped in the face. Mom laughed.
"Ok know we know Danny likes it-Love it!" I interrupted. "I basically worship it." Mom chuckled.
"Like I was saying, we know Danny really loves it, how about you Jack." Dad just swirled his spoon into the soup.
"Eh, not the best." Mom frowned at the response.
"You never love anything anymore." She whispered. Then Dad got all angry.
"I love you!" He barked, standing up. Mom got up.
"That's it! What about our children?" She screamed.
"You know I love them to!"
"Then why don't you act like it?" She started yelling. They fight a lot know. All the time. I mean it's an occasional thing.
"I do!" Dad screaming. Usually, Dad is gentle as a giant soft dog. Know he is a giant, barking beast.
"What's wrong then!" Mom screamed.
"Well, I can't actually think that I'm a good parent when my son is worshiping soup!" Okay, maybe I did go a little too far. "And when my daughter is obsessed with fucking Albert Einstein and talks about him every fucking minute!" Know Jazz looks hurt.
"Jack!" Mom screamed at the top of her lungs. "Danny was only kidding! He actually complemented on my soup than you! Albert Einstein is a role model! What do you want her to talk about then? The drug dealer down the block?"
"I knew my son-"I zoned him out. Ugh, I hate people call me "son". I can give you so many reasons.
Look it's your Son! Your son is impressive. Sooooon, how's it going? Son! Son! Son! Son! It drives me insane! You say son, instead of your name! Hey daughter! No, they say, Hey Jazz! It makes me feel so labeled. I got up, my appetite ruined, and headed upstairs. Like the stalker she is, Jazz followed. I didn't want to hear that crap. I got in my room and shut the door before she comes in.
"Danny, open up!" Great, know I have to deal with her. I did a ghost lock on it (I can make things out of my hands. So freaking awesome.)
"Never." I went to get my laptop, and then I realized I left it downstairs. If I go intangible the ghost alarms will go off. And if I go the human way, I have to deal with her rambling.
Dammitt.
