This is Not the Worst Fucking Thing That Has Ever Happened.

This is not the worst fucking thing that has ever happened.

This is not the worst fucking thing that has ever happened.

This is not the worst fucking thing that has ever happened because you brought your ex to a party and shit happened and things were said about them having sex with other people and you felt weird and wanted to hide in your turtle shell.

This is not the worst fucking thing that has ever happened because she followed you to the bathroom and wanted to know what was wrong, but it’s obvious what is fucking wrong because I’m not fucking over her yet and I don’t care to hear about her sexcapades, or want to indulge her in any way.

This is not the worst fucking thing that has ever happened because she said you don’t date people you’ve broken up with, and you told her it was her who said it felt platonic. I never used platonic. Only the first week did it feel platonic because you weren’t sure how you felt about her.

This is not the worst fucking thing that has ever happened because it felt like she wasn’t completely honest with the break up, and when you asked why she broke up with you, she turned and walked away back to the party. Where it was weird and awkward for three minutes until you both left separately.

I just need to know what happened two and a half months ago. I just need her to be honest with me about how she feels about me so I know how to move on. Cause now I’m intoxicated and missing her and hating her and texting Mike back home in Edmonton to feel better.

This is not the worst fucking thing that has ever happened.

But it feels like it.

But I’ve Never Been Happier

My roommate and I just paid our internet bill after getting cut off this morning for not paying it in two months. Half the bill, not even the whole damn thing.

I haven’t paid my own phone bill in two months and going on hope that they don’t cut me off. We’re living off Kraft Dinner and Mr. Noodles and I’ve run out of quarters to do laundry. I have less than a thousand dollars to my name. Tonight is my first shift at the grocery store, and I’m not gonna be able to get full time hours.

Student loan bills are gonna start coming in soon. I somehow have rent covered for October, but I’ll be broke after that. Saving up for top surgery is weighing on my mind and seems unlikely I’ll be able to have that 8K stashed by Christmas 2016.

I’ve never been so broke and so on my own ever in my life. At twenty-five and a half years old I’m finally an adult deciding between going out dancing or eating, which I choose dancing because I want the story to write about.

So I’m a cliché broke post-student screenwriter, except I’m not hanging out in Starbucks cause I couldn’t afford Starbucks. I don’t know when my first paycheque will be and if I’ll be able to pay all my bills and my testosterone when it comes. I’m working the graveyard shift stocking shelves, and I might have an internship two days a week during the day, if I’m lucky.

Despite all this, I’ve never been happier. I’ve never felt more pride in myself to be living at the bottom. I’m hungry for growth, and I’m determined to find out what I’m made of. I’ve never been prouder to not go running to my parents for money when I need it. I don’t need it. I have everything I need and I’ll make due.

This is where it all starts.

I’m Just Adjusting

As soon as I texted that to her just now, I knew it has to get better. I hope it gets better. I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure we can be friends.

I can’t say it out loud. I can barely think about it. No, I can’t think about it cause then I’ll become depressed and my life is finally picking up to let myself fall backwards.

But it’s stupid. I should give myself a break. I’m allowed to still have feelings for her after not even two months have passed since we broke up. When I like people, I really like them. I want to know everything about them, and I love their faults and the things that they hate about themselves. I didn’t fall in love with her, but I could’ve, if it had lasted longer.

She doesn’t like me anymore, and I don’t want to be the only one who still has feelings. That’s what I’m afraid of. That’s what I hate the most. No one wants to be the lingerer. No one wants to be the one who still has feelings while they’re over you and interested in other people. I don’t want her pity because I still feel something for her. I want to be over her, but it’s an adjustment.

Tonight we texted about people we’re talking to on OKCupid. I have to keep up with her now. I have to talk about people first before she does so she knows I’m okay. So she thinks I’m okay.

I’m okay. I have to put on my big boy smile so people think I’m doing fine when I’m not, but I’m okay.

I’m Gonna Stop

I’m gonna stop hurting over how you hurt me.

Over how I hurt myself knowing you would hurt me.

I’m gonna stop beating myself up over feeling guilty.

Over feeling guilty for cutting you out.

I’m gonna stop putting you on a pedestal.

On a pedestal slowly crumbling down.

As the realization of how you treated me comes rushing in.

All the truths that kill me.

All the dishonesty I now see.

I’m gonna stop thinking you were anything close to perfect.

Perfect is a word I’ll never use again.

I’m gonna stop blaming myself for everything.

I am not a victim.

But I am not a monster.

I’m gonna start moving on.

Adulthood?

I’ve had a few people from WordPress express interest in my TV pilot, and one wrote an awesome review for me and helped me out so I wanted to share this again with the first act from the script.

I submitted the first episode of my queer TV show to Amazon Studios for consideration to be made into an actual series.

My goal in screenwriting in both TV and film is to create a platform for myself wherein I can tell the stories of our queer community.

If you read the rest of my script in the link below, please leave a rating! A review would also be great – it would really be helping me out!

Thank you!

Read the rest here! https://studios.amazon.com/projects/86461

We Can Be Friends

I’ve made the mistake time and time again of acting so hastily and irrationally because it’s difficult to set apart my brain from my heart.

But it’s rare that I find people that I truly connect with. We felt comfortable with each other from the first couple minutes in the park by her house. All the dogs came by to visit us and we chilled with them while their owners urged them to move. In that moment, we got to see a sweet side of each other.

I never expected anything from her. I didn’t expect to spend forever with her. But I liked being around her. She accepts my cynicism and she laughs at my mannerisms.

At some point we both knew we weren’t connecting romantically, but we didn’t want to say anything. She thought I wouldn’t want to be friends with an ex because apparently I have a history of that or something…

But a month and a half away from each other and the little bit of texting we had in that time, was enough to get me used to the idea of being her friend. It was enough time to be away to want to grab coffee today. Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with someone who sees me for what I am and still likes me?

I told her before, if I don’t get over this not being friends with ex’s thing, I’ll never grow as a person.

And I want to grow as a person.

I’m learning to separate my head from my heart and learning that one status of a relationship might not work, but there’s a chance that another one will. This is about how much I care for a person for who they really are and if I’d actually be okay with losing them forever. And I wouldn’t be okay with that.

I’m glad she’s in my life. It’s getting less strange and more normal. Someday it’ll simply be normal.

Writing a Queer TV Show

I’ve been sharing this on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, so this is finally for followers on WordPress!

I’m so excited to finally be able to share what I’ve been working on while I was in film school this year.

I’m writing a queer themed TV comedy series called “Adulthood?” featuring a transgender lead character, here in Vancouver.

Ezra Jacobson, Freddie and Greta Harper, and Hudson Maine have just graduated from college, but they don’t know how to act in the adult world now that they’re on their own. But they’re really good at fucking everything up!

I was tired of watching TV shows with only one queer character, usually gay and a stereotype. I wanted to write a group of friends who were apart of the queer community and witness events of adult life through their eyes. Ezra is a trans guy, Greta is lesbian, Hudson is gay, and Freddie is the straight guy in love with Ezra.

This project is my whole heart right now. I’ve put so much passion and hard work into writing it and I’m just excited to have people read it and hear their opinions.

If you have time, please check out my pilot episode for Adulthood? and leave a rating! I appreciate it so much!

https://studios.amazon.com/projects/86461

Time for Kelly to Come Out of the Closet

Or the Word Document, more likely.

A few years ago, I published my first Novel, Parker. A sixteen year old boy trying to fight off Dylan, a bully at school ,while hiding a secret love for his best friend Liam.

But I was young and dumb, and I did it all the wrong way. I went through a self-publishing company in the States. It cost too much and I’ll never make it all back through them. And my birth name is still the author name and I hate even looking at it now. But those are the lessons you learn when you do something for the first time.

So this time I’m going through Amazon’s self-publishing on Kindle.

The book up this time is Kelly Pink.

Kelly Greene is a seventeen year old transgender girl. She’s got an overbearing father who won’t let her wear anything pink or feminine to school, a sister named Olive who gives her everything pink to wear, and a step-mom, Georgia, trying desperately to connect with her. Kelly’s best friend is Jimmy who lives next door. Their window’s are accessible by a plank of wood kept in their bedrooms. But Jimmy isn’t the love interest. There is no love interest. Only Jake. Kelly and Jake fool around after church service behind the building and ignore each other’s presence at school.

The story follows Kelly as she defies the constructs of gender, runs away from everything she knows, and comes to terms with the death of her mother; the only person to ever truly accept her wholly.

So I’m gonna try this again. Also gonna see if I can change the title to something more eye-catching. I had a plan to keep all my books with their character name, but maybe that’ll change.

Now begins the editing process.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/1475960387/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?qid=1439784428&sr=1-1&pi=AC_SY200_QL40&keywords=Parker+macneil&dpPl=1&dpID=313kvdJu6gL&ref=plSrch

I Let My Feelings Guide Me

My heart has no sense of direction. And when it feels strongly about something, it manipulates my brain to believe that it has our best interests at… well at heart.

I ended things horribly with the guy I was seeing earlier this year. We were never in a real relationship, but we were dating and only seeing each other. He told me straight up that he wasn’t interested in anything serious and I lied and told him I wasn’t either because he was fucking gorgeous and he had a killer personality and for some reason, he liked hanging out with me too. He was the first transguy I’ve dated, and he opened my world to so many different experiences.

And then I fell for him. I fell so hard. He saw this and ended things with me because he didn’t want me to think that it was ever gonna go somewhere. He wanted to have the same feelings for me, but he just couldn’t connect emotionally.

A month later, my heart still hurt for him and I was still thinking about him constantly and I knew I was falling in love with him. I sent him a text and told him how I felt. I knew that it was unfair of me to tell him I loved him because he’d have to live with that, but I was selfish and my brain was being held hostage. I should’ve just kept it to myself. I should’ve just kept his number in my phone, and I should’ve just kept him on Facebook. I’d already unfollowed him. I didn’t have to unfriend him completely.

I’m an asshole. I’m literally the worst.

And I will beat myself up over this until I die.

I thought that two months after this event, and after dating another person during that time, that I would be over this, but I saw him tonight at the Skytrain and my heart just slipped all the way down my chest.

All the guilt I’d been feeling over the months finally came to the surface and I was the worst person ever. He didn’t make eye contact with me. I’m not even sure if he saw me, but fuck he looked so good.

Now I’m stuck with a dilemma. I need to make this right. My stupid little heart needs to make this right with him. I don’t have his number any more so I’m gonna have to Facebook message him. I just want to apologize for cutting him out the way that I did. I don’t expect him to respond. It would probably hurt just as much if he did as if he didn’t. Either way, I’m just gonna be hurt by this experience for so long and I’ll hate myself for acting so insensitive to a person that I liked so very very very fucking much.

Six Months on Testosterone

Yeah, I can’t believe it either.

Felt like I waited twenty-four years for the stuff and now time is just flying by.

Needles are easy now — injecting. Getting blood taken is still a hazy challenge. Which only reminds me that I need to go for my 6 month test.

I can’t say I’ve seen much of a change in overall appearance yet. My face I feel still looks the same. I haven’t hardened out into masculine features yet. But I have grown an awkward amount of facial hair on my chin which I immediately shave so as not to look even more like a teenage boy at twenty-five. No hair on the sides of my face yet and probably won’t see any until my one year approaches.

My voice is a ridiculous situation right now. Watching Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp the other day with my roommate, she commented on how she loves it when I get excited cause my voice goes high and squeaky. It hasn’t deepened too much yet, but there’s a definite change and something is happening. I asked a YouTube famous transguy about voice change and he said his dropped around the eight month mark, so not too much longer with this. Hopefully.

It’ll be nice to be able to sing again. I’m not even kidding about that. With this voice transition, it’s almost impossible to sing. My voice doesn’t allow high notes at the moment like I used to be able to catch. I’d say of all the changes, that one would be the worst — if I couldn’t sing like I used to be able to.

Going into transition, and about three months after, I was still shaving my legs, but after the facial hair showed up, I just quit altogether and have only shaved once during that time — which was a pain to do and took like half an hour. I regretted it as soon as I did because I felt like I was being someone else. So it’s just not even worth it any more. I like the leg hair — especially on my thighs. I don’t know why. There’s a bit on my stomach coming in too. The treasure trail that my ex from Edmonton would’ve hated. I just laugh about it with him now.

I was told by my doctor on several occasions about an increased sex drive which I laughed about — but no, it’s a thing.

It’s a thing.

I think I’m just overall happier with myself. I still need to hit the gym more than I do to really define new muscles, but I’m a lazy writer so I’ll get around to it when I do. After grad when I’m not so stressed out. Maybe.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my future lately and what that will entail. I’ve come to the difficult, yet calming conclusion that I will most likely not be having any biological children. For starters, it’s ridiculously expensive to freeze eggs — and with what funds, asks this Canadian screenwriter. And I’m primarily attracted to women and transmen at the moment and don’t see myself getting involved with a cis gender guy again so adding in a sperm donor is just more dollar signs. Also, medically, doctors aren’t 100 percent sure if testosterone risks fertility in transmen. That’s something that was not as hard hitting to me as it might be to other guys cause I’ve been told since I was 17 that I might not be able to have kids due to an under active thyroid condition. So I suppose in a way I’ve always thought that this next paragraph would be a page in my life.

So more importantly, why would I bring a child into the world when there are already so many children out there who need a home and loving parents. I could be one of those loving parents. I don’t think that I want to inflict my history of depression and rash-prone skin on a child just so I can see what my DNA would conjure up. I’m afraid that a child not biologically mine wouldn’t grow to love me as their dad because I’m transgender, but who’s to say that a biological one would?

Also, writing a novel about an adopted gay boy when I was 21 was probably some subconscious way of telling myself what I want in the future. That book was therapy in so many ways.

If I’m making a life plan, I’d like to have a kid — a baby or a toddler — by the time I’m 35. Which gives me 10 years to work on my career and establish myself in the world to support a little human. I would’ve thought years ago that marriage would’ve been included in that 10 year plan, but surprisingly, it’s not. I think I’m going to do this with or without a partner.

So that’s enough rambling.