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mrkwonandmrchoibabygirl · 7 years ago

Text

NOW 2~G-Dragon Pt.8

Genre:Angst/SMUT

Rated:NSFW

Pairing: GD X Reader

wordcount:4,586

Masterlist

DISCLAIMER!:remember this is just an edit of an original book called after by anna todd i do not own this book!(choosen by popular demand but don’t worry bared to him will be up tomorrow!)

When I finally wake up, it’s two in the afternoon. I can’t remember the last time I slept past eleven, let alone later than lunch, but I forgive myself by taking into account that I stayed up until four reading and browsing through Jiyong’s wonderful gift. It is so thoughtful, too thoughtful, the best gift I’ve ever received.

Grabbing my phone off the nightstand, I check my missed calls. Two from my mother, one from Tae. A few “Happy Birthday” messages clog my inbox, including one from Noah. I’ve never been that into birthdays, but I don’t exactly love the idea of being alone today either.

Well, I won’t be alone. Catherine Earnshaw and Elizabeth Bennet are much better company than my mother.

I order a crapload of Chinese food and stay in my pajamas the entire day. My mother is irate when I call her and tell her that I’m “sick.” I can tell that she doesn’t believe me, but honestly, I don’t care. It’s my birthday, and I can do whatever I choose to do, and if what I choose to do is lie in bed with takeout and my new toy, then that’s what I’ll do.

My fingers try to pull up Jiyong’s number a few times, but I stop them. No matter how wonderful his present was, he still slept with Chaerin. Whenever I think he couldn’t possibly hurt me worse, he does. I begin to think about my dinner with Trevor on Saturday. Trevor, who is so nice and so charming. He says what he means, and he gives me compliments. He doesn’t yell at me, or annoy me. He has never lied to me. I never have to guess what he’s thinking or how he’s feeling. He’s smart, educated, successful, and he volunteers at shelters on holidays. He’s so perfect, compared to Jiyong.

The problem is that I shouldn’t be comparing him to Jiyong . Trevor is a little boring, yes, and we don’t share the same passion for novels that Jiyong and I do, but we also don’t share a damaged past.

The most infuriating thing about Jiyongis that I actually love his personality, rudeness and all. He’s funny, witty, and can be so sweet when he wants to be. This gift is messing with my head—I need to remember what he has done to me. All the lies, the secrets, and most all the times he’s fucked Chaerin.

I text Tae back to thank him, and within seconds he responds asking for the address of my hotel. I want to tell him not to drive all the way here, but I also don’t want to spend the remainder of my day completely alone. I don’t get dressed, but I do slip on a bra under my shirt and read some more, waiting for Tae to arrive.

An hour later, he knocks at the door, and when I open it, his familiar, warm smile makes me smile in return and he pulls me into his arms.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N,” he says into my hair.

“Thank you,” I say and hug him tighter.

He lets me go and sits at the desk chair. “Do you feel any older?”

“No . . . well, yes. I feel like I’ve aged ten years in the last week.”

He gives me a small smile but doesn’t say anything.

“I ordered takeout—there’s plenty left if you want some,” I offer.

Turning, he grabs the white Styrofoam container and a plastic fork from the desk. “Thanks. So is this what you’re doing all day?” he teases.

“Sure is.” I laugh and sit cross-legged on the bed.

As he chews, Tae looks past me and raises a brow. “You got an e-reader? I thought you hated them.”

“Well . . . I did, but now I kind of love them.” I pick up the device and admire it. “Thousands of books right at my fingertips! What could be better?” I smile and tilt my head to the side.

“Well, nothing says happy birthday like buying yourself a gift,” he says with his mouth full of rice.

“Actually, Jiyong got it for me. He left it in my car.”

“Oh. That was nice of him,” he says with a peculiar tone.

“Yes, very. He even put all these wonderful novels on there and . . .” I stop myself.

“So what do you think about it?” he asks.

“It confuses me even more. He does these incredibly kind things sometimes, but he does the most hurtful things at the same time.”

He smiles and waggles the fork while he says, “Well, he does love you. Unfortunately, love doesn’t always go hand in hand with common sense.”

I sigh. “He doesn’t know what love is.” I start scrolling through the list of romantic novels, and note that common sense is not something usually seen in any of these stories.

“He came to talk to me yesterday,” he says, causing me to drop my gift onto the mattress.

“What?”

“Yeah, I know. It surprised me, too. He came looking for me, his dad, or even my mother,” he says, and I shake my head.

“Why?”

“To ask for help.”

Worry builds inside of me. “Help? With what? Is he okay?”

“Yeah . . . well, no. He asked for help with you. He was completely distraught, Y/N. I mean, he came to his father’s house, of all places.”

“What did he say?” I can’t picture Jiyong knocking on Ken’s door to ask for relationship advice.

“That he loves you. That he wants me to help him persuade you to give him another chance. I wanted you to know; I don’t want to keep things from you.”

“I . . . well . . . I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe he came to you. To anyone, really.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, he isn’t the same Kwon Jiyong that he was when I first met him. He even joked about hugging me.” He laughs.

I can’t help but join him. “He did not!” I don’t know how I feel about any of this, but that thought is definitely funny. When I stop laughing, I look at Taeyang and dare to ask, “Do you really believe that he loves me?”

“Yes, I do. I don’t know if I think you should forgive him, but if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that he does love you.”

“It’s just that he lied to me, made me a joke—even after he told me he loved me, he still went and told them all what happened between us. Then, as soon as I begin to think I could possibly consider trying to move past that, he sleeps with Chaerin.” Tears prick my eyes, and I grab the water bottle on the nightstand and take a drink in an attempt to distract myself.

“He didn’t sleep with her.”

I look over at him. “Yes, he did. He told me he did.”

Tae puts the food container down and shakes his head. “He just said that to hurt you. I know that’s not much better, but you two are both known to fight fire with fire.”

Looking at Tae, the first thing I think is that Jiyong is good. He even has his stepbrother believing his lies. The second thing I think is: But what if Jiyong didn’t actually sleep with Chaerin? Absent that, could I move toward forgiving him? I had my mind made up that I never would, but I can’t seem to shake that boy.

As if the universe is mocking me, my phone lights up with a message from Trevor that says Happy Birthday, Beautiful.

I send him a quick thanks, then say to Tae, “I need more time. I don’t know what to think.”

He nods. “Fair enough, so what are you doing for Christmas?”

“This.” I gesture to the empty takeout box and e-reader.

He grabs the remote. “You aren’t going to go home?”

“This is more of a home than my mother’s house,” I say and try not to think about how pathetic I am.

“You can’t just stay in a hotel alone on Christmas, Y/N. You should come to our place. I think my mother got you a few things before . . . you know.”

“My life went down the drain?” I half laugh and he nods playfully.

“Actually, I was thinking that since Jiyongis leaving tomorrow, I would stay at the apartment . . . just until I get into the dorms, which hopefully will be before he returns. If not, then I can always come back to this lovely abode.” I can’t help but joke about how ridiculous of a situation I’m in right now.

“Yeah . . . you should do that,” Tae says with his eyes focused on the television.

“You think? What if he shows up or something?”

He still doesn’t take his eyes from the screen but agrees. “He’ll be in Jeju, right?”

“Yeah. You’re right. My name is on the lease, after all.”

Tae and I watch television and talk about Dakota leaving for New York. He’s considering transferring to NYU next year if she decides to stay out there. I’m happy for him, but I don’t want him to leave Washington—not that I tell him that, of course. Taeyang stays until nine, and after he leaves I curl onto the bed and read until I fall asleep.

THE NEXT MORNING I get ready for my return to the apartment. I can’t believe I’m actually going back there, but I don’t have many options. I don’t want to take advantage of Taeyang, I definitely don’t want to go to my mother’s, and I’ll run out of money if I stay here. I feel guilty for not going to my mother’s, but I don’t want to listen to her snide comments all week. I still may go there for Christmas, but not today. I have five days to decide.

Once my hair is curled and my makeup is done, I put on a long-sleeved white shirt and dark jeans. I want to stay in my pajamas, but I need to go to the store to get some food for the next few days. If I eat whatever food Jiyong has in the apartment, he’ll know I was there. I pack my few belongings in my bags and hurry to my car, which, to my surprise, has been vacuumed and smells faintly of mint. Jiyong.

It starts to snow as I make my way to the grocery store. I buy enough food to last me until I decide what I want to do on Christmas. As I wait in line to check out, my mind wanders to what Jiyong would have gotten me for Christmas. My birthday gift was so thoughtful, who knows what he’d have came up with. I hope it would be something simple, not expensive.

“Are you going to move up?” a woman’s voice barks from behind me.

When I look up, the cashier is waiting impatiently with a scowl on her face. I didn’t notice the line moving or disappearing in front of me.

“Sorry,” I mumble, placing my groceries on the belt.

My heart begins to race as I pull into the parking lot of the apartment. What if he hasn’t left yet? It’s only noon. I look frantically around the lot, and his car is gone. He probably drove himself to the airport and left his car there.

Or Chaerin drove him.

My subconscious doesn’t know when to shut up. Once I determine that he isn’t here, I park and grab the groceries. The snow is coming down harder and covers the cars around me in a thin layer. At least I’ll be in the warm apartment soon. When I reach the door, I take one last breath before unlocking the door and stepping inside. I really love this place—it’s so perfect for us . . . for him . . . or me, separately.

When I open the cabinets and fridge, I’m surprised to find them stocked full of food. Jiyong must have gone shopping in the last few days. I shove the food that I bought wherever it will fit and head back down to get my belongings.

I can’t stop thinking about what Taeyang said. I’m floored by the fact that Jiyong would go to anyone for advice, and that Taeyang professed to think Jiyong loves me—a fact that I’ve known but buried and locked away for fear it would give me hope. If I allow myself to admit that he loves me, it will only make all of this worse.

As soon as I get back into the apartment, I lock the door and put my bags in the room. I take out most of my clothes and hang them up so they won’t be too wrinkled, but using the closet that was intended for Jiyong and me only makes the knife inside of me twist once again. He only has a few pairs of black jeans hung up on the left side. I have to force myself not to hang up his T-shirts, they are always slightly wrinkled, although somehow he still manages to look perfect. My eyes travel to the black dress shirt hanging sloppily in the corner, the shirt he wore to the wedding. I hastily finish my task and walk away from the closet.

I make myself some macaroni on the stove and turn on the television. I turn the volume up so that I can hear an old episode of Friends that I have seen at least twenty times, and go into the kitchen. I speak along with the characters as I load the dishwasher; I hope Jiyong hasn’t noticed, but I can’t stand to have dishes in the sink. I light a candle and wipe off the counters. Before I know it, I’m sweeping the floor, vacuuming the couch, and making the bed. Once the entire apartment is clean, I do a load of my laundry and fold the clothes Jiyong had left in the dryer. Today is actually the most peaceful and calm day that I’ve had in the last week. That is, until I hear a set of voices and watch in slow motion as the lock turns.

Shit. He’s here, again. Why does he always show up at the apartment when I’m there! Hopefully it’s just that he gave an extra key to one of his friends to check on the place . . . Maybe it’s Seungri with a girl? Anyone but Jiyong —please, let it be anyone but Jiyong.

A woman I’ve never seen before steps through the doorway, but I somehow instantly know who she is. The similarities are undeniable, and she is beautiful.

“Wow, Jiyong , this flat is beautiful,” she says, her accent just as thick as her son’s.

This. Is. Not. Happening. I’m going to look like a complete psychopath in front of Jiyong’s mom—with my food in the cabinets, my clothes in the washer, and the entire apartment cleaned from top to bottom. I stand completely frozen and panicked as she looks up at me.

“Oh, my goodness! You must be Y/N!” She smiles and rushes over to me.

As Jiyong steps through the doorway, he cocks his head to the side and drops her floral-print luggage from his hands. The surprise on his face is beyond evident. I tear my eyes from him and focus on the woman coming toward me with open arms.

“I was so disappointed when Jiyong said you’d be out of town this week!” she gushes and wraps her arms around me. “What a cheeky boy, fibbing just to try and surprise me!”

What?

She puts her hands on my shoulders and pulls me to look at her. “Oh, you are so lovely, look at you!” She squeals and hugs me again.

I stay silent and hug her once more. Jiyong looks terrified and extremely caught off guard.

Join the club.

Chapter twenty-three

Y/N

As his mother hugs me for the fourth time, Jiyong finally mumbles, “Mum, let’s give her a little space. She’s a bit shy.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m just so happy to finally meet you. Jiyong has told me so much about you,” she says warmly. I feel my cheeks flame as she steps back and nods in acknowledgment. I’m surprised she even knows that I exist—I would have figured he would have kept me a secret, as usual.

“It’s okay,” I manage to say through my horror.

Mrs. Daniels smiles brightly and looks over at her son, who says, “Mum, why don’t you grab a drink of water in the kitchen for a minute?” When she leaves, Jiyong comes over to me with gentle movements. “Can . . . I, um . . . talk to you in the bedroom for a mo-moment?” he stammers.

I nod and glance toward the kitchen before following him into the bedroom that we once shared.

“What the hell?” I say quietly as I close the door.

Jiyong winces and sits on the bed. “I know . . . I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell her what happened. I couldn’t tell her what I did.

“Are you here . . . you know, to stay?” His voice holds more hope than I can bear.

“No . . .”

“Oh.”

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair, a habit I picked up from Jiyong, I suspect. “Well, what am I supposed to do?” I ask him.

“I don’t know . . .” he says with a long sigh. “I don’t expect you to go along with it or anything . . . I just need a little time to tell her.”

“I didn’t know you would be here either, I thought you were going to Jeji.”

“I changed my mind, I didn’t want to go without . . .” He trails off, and pain is evident in his eyes.

“Is there a reason why you didn’t tell her that we aren’t together?” I don’t know if I want to hear his answer.

“She was just so happy that I found someone . . . I don’t want to ruin that for her.”

I recall Ken telling me that he never thought Jiyong was capable of being in a relationship, and he was right. However, I do not want to ruin Jiyong’s mother’s time here. I certainly don’t say what I say next for his sake: “Okay. You can tell her whenever you are ready. Just don’t tell her about the bet.” I look down, thinking that his mom knowing the details of how her son ruined his first and only love would surely hurt her.

“Really? You’re okay with her thinking we’re together?” He sounds more surprised than he should be. When I nod, he lets out a deep breath. “Thank you. I thought for sure you’d call me out right in front of her.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I say and mean it. No matter how angry I have ever been at Jiyong , I wouldn’t damage his relationship with his mother. “I’ll just finish my laundry, then go. I thought you weren’t going to be here, so I figured I’d stay here instead of that motel.” I shrug uncomfortably. We’ve been in the bedroom a little too long.

“You don’t have anywhere to go?”

“I could go to my mother’s. I just really don’t want to,” I admit. “The motel isn’t bad, just a little expensive.” This is the most civil conversation Jiyong and I have had in the past week.

“I know you won’t agree to stay here, but I could give you some money?” I can tell he’s afraid of my reaction to his offer.

“I don’t need your money.”

“I know, I just thought I would offer.” He stares at floor.

“We better go back out there.” I sigh and open the door.

“I’ll be out in a second,” he says softly.

I don’t like the idea of going out there to face his mother alone, but I can’t stay in the small space of this bedroom with Jiyong . I take a deep breath and leave the room.

When I enter the kitchen, she looks over at me from where she stands at the sink. “He isn’t upset with me, is he? I didn’t mean to crowd you.” Her voice is so sweet. A total contrast to her son’s.

“Oh no, of course not. He was just . . . going over a few things about this week,” I lie. I have always been a terrible liar, so I usually avoid it at all costs.

“Okay, good. I know how moody he can be.” She smiles with such warmth that I can’t help but smile back.

I pour my own glass of water to calm my nerves, and she begins to speak as I take a sip. “I still can’t wrap my head around how beautiful you are. He told me you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, but I thought he was exaggerating.”

Less gracefully than the most beautiful girl a boy’s ever seen would do, I spit my water back into my glass. Jiyong said what? I want to ask her to verify that, but instead I just take another sip of water to mask my embarrassing reaction.

She laughs. “Honestly, I thought you would be covered in tattoos and have green hair or something.”

“No, no tattoos for me. Or green hair.” I laugh and feel my shoulders begin to relax.

“You’re an English major like Jiyong , right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Call me Trish.”

“I actually have an internship at Vance Publishing, so my class schedule is kind of weird. And right now we’re on break.”

“Vance? As in Christian Vance?” she asks. I nod. “Oh, I haven’t seen Christian in at least . . . ten years.” She looks down at the glass of water in my hands. “ Jiyong and I actually lived with him for a year after Ken . . . Well, never mind, Jiyong doesn’t like when I spout off at the mouth.” She chuckles nervously.

I didn’t know that Jiyong and his mother stayed with Mr. Vance, but I knew that he was very close with him, closer than he would be if Christian were only his father’s friend.

“I know about Ken,” I say to Trish in an attempt to ease her discomfort, but then I immediately worry that I’ve implied I know about what happened to her, and I worry I’ve upset her.

So when she replies, “You do?” I try to hedge a little and follow up with, “Yeah, Jiyong has told me . . .”

But when Jiyong appears in the kitchen I stop, and I have to admit I’m happy for the intrusion.

He raises a brow. “ Jiyong has told you what?”

My tension goes through the roof, but to my surprise, his mother covers, saying, “Nothing, son, just some girl talk,” and walking over to him and wrapping her arm around his waist. He pulls away slightly, as if out of instinct. She frowns, but I get the feeling this is a normal interaction between them.

The dryer beeps, and I take that as my cue to exit the room and finish up my laundry so I can get out of here, fast.

I pull my warm clothes from the dryer and sit on the floor in the small laundry room to fold them. Jiyong’s mother is so sweet, and I find myself wishing that I could have met her under different circumstances. I don’t feel anger toward Jiyong; I have been angry long enough. I feel sadness, and a longing for what we could have been.

After I’m done with my clothes, I go to the bedroom to repack my bags. I wish I hadn’t hung any clothes in the closet or put food in the kitchen.

“Do you need some help, dear?” Trish asks me.

“Um, I was just getting my things ready to go to my mother’s for the week,” I reply, figuring I might as well just go there since the motel is expensive.

“You’re leaving today? Right now?” She frowns.

“Yeah . . . I told her I would come for Christmas.” For once I want Jiyong to come into the room to help me talk my way out of this.

“Oh, I was hoping you would stay at least a night. Who knows when I’ll be able to see you again—and I would love to get to know the young woman who my son has fallen in love with.”

And suddenly something in me wants to make this woman happy. I don’t know if it’s because of my mistake about saying I knew about Ken and her, or because of the way she covered for me in front of Jiyong . But I do know I don’t want to overthink this, so I silence my inner voice and just nod, and say, “Okay.”

“Really? You’ll stay? Just one night, then you can go to your mum’s house. You don’t want to be driving through that snow anyway.” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me for the fifth time today.

At least she’ll be here to be a buffer between Jiyong and me. We can’t fight if she’s here. Well, I won’t fight, at least. I know this is probably . . . certainly the worst idea, but Trish is hard to say no to. Just like her son.

“Well, I’m going to take a quick shower. I had a long flight!” She smiles broadly and heads out.

I sink down onto the bed and close my eyes. This is going to be the most awkward, painful twenty-four hours of my life. No matter what I do, I always seem to end up back where I started, with him.

After a few minutes I open my eyes to find Jiyong standing in front of the closet with his back to me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” he says when he turns back around. I sit up. He is being so strange, apologizing every other word. “I see that you cleaned the apartment,” he says softly.

“Yeah . . . I couldn’t help it.” I smile, and so does he. “ Jiyong , I told your mom that I would stay tonight. Only tonight, but if that’s not okay, I’ll go. I just felt bad because she’s so nice, and I couldn’t say no, but if that makes you uncomfor—”

“Y/N, it’s fine,” he says quickly, but then his voice shakes when he adds, “I want you to stay.”

I don’t know what to say, and I don’t understand this strange turn of events. I want to thank him for the present, but there is just too much going on inside of my head.

“Did you have a nice birthday yesterday?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah. Tae came by.”

“Oh . . .” But then we hear his mother in the living room, and he moves to go. He stops before walking through the door and turns to me. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”

I sigh. “Me either.”

At that, he nods, and we both get up to join his mother in the other room.

a/n Thoughts???

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therightnewsnetwork · 8 years ago

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We Hear You: I’m a Sailor, a Marine, and a Transgender Woman Who Was Born This Way

Editor’s note: One reader who we heard from awhile back marked March 31 as Transgender Day of Visibility. So this weekend seemed like a fitting opportunity to publish the letter as the lead item in our mailbag.—Ken McIntyre

Dear Daily Signal: At first I was going to ignore Kelsey Harkness’ video report and the comments, but there comes a time when what I served our great nation for must be stated plainly (“Lost Voices in the Transgender Debate: Liberals and Conservatives Unite“).

I served for all Americans. I served so that you may hold opinions not based in logic, reason, or science. I served for your rights and freedoms. So by all means, feel free to express your beliefs and opinions.

I served as an enlisted person in the Navy and as an officer in the best fighting force in the world, the Marine Corps. I am a 1984 graduate of the Naval Academy, a parent of four, a grandparent of six, a serial entrepreneur, and I know me better than anyone.

The only people who know me and my body are my doctors at the KU Women’s Health Specialty Center in Overland Park, Kansas, and they know that I am a woman. Yes, I was born with male genitalia, but I am woman through and through.

I have studied me and the science behind me longer than many of you have been alive. For you to presume to know me, a transsexual woman, is absurd to the height of ignorance. I was born a woman from the very beginning, but my body physically and outwardly expressed as male.

The brain is the source of all gender, not what’s between your legs. Like 99.95 percent of all people, your gender most likely aligns with your brain so you have no issues to address personally. This is an evolutionary requirement for the survival of the species.

For the other .05 percent, the brain and genitals do not align: a statistical number that holds true for all human populations planetwide. Like all human physical characteristics, gender expresses on a statistical distribution, a spectrum.

There was a time in our country when conversion therapy was forced on those who were left-handed to make them right-handed, because righteous people were by definition right-handed. You can teach a person to use their right hand if they were born left-handed, but are they really right-handed? No.

What about hair color, texture, degree of curl, or straightness? What about tallness or shortness? Are all humans born with 10 fingers and 10 toes? Statistically, most humans are. However, some are born with more or less.

Do all humans fall into one standard shape and size and color, texture, functionality of genitals (whether male of female)? No. Huge statistical variety there, too.

Are only “real” humans born without physical impairments such as spina bifida, cleft palate, weakened heart valves, missing organs, extra organs? No. All of these occur on a statistical distribution, which means while they are less likely to occur than the norm, they can and do occur. Are those people any less human than you?

Why must gender be excluded from the statistical variability that is so easily observed in all of human nature? Well, it’s not.

So I am a transgender woman who was born this way whether you accept modern, evidence-based, peer-reviewed biological and psychological science or not. My being a woman is not dependent upon your approval. I am a woman. Period.

“It is your turn to stand in defense of my rights now,” Cassandra Leigh Williamson writes. “Trans people are under assault.” (Photo: Cassandra Leigh Williamson)

Gender dysphoria is caused by the lack of congruence, the misalignment, between expressed sexual and secondary sexual characteristics and the brain. It is not a mental disorder, but a physical issue much like being born with a physical disability.

Thank God, though, we know how to correct the misalignment.

So it is your turn to stand in defense of my rights now. Trans people are under assault. Our rights, our freedoms, the freedoms and rights you take for granted, are being rolled back or denied. Gender identity needs to be a protected class of minorities within our national and state laws. Stand with me. Hugs and Semper Fi!—Cassandra Leigh Williamson

Note: Cassandra Leigh Williamson, who lives in a small town in Missouri, has a website at cassandraleighwilliamson.com and recently began a video blog on YouTube called “Cassandra Leigh.”

Crashing the White House ‘Pool’ Party

Dear Daily Signal: You are more of a news organization than any of the “lamestream” media (“Journalists from BuzzFeed, New York Times Assess Daily Signal’s Splash in White House Press ‘Pool’“). Your Morning Bell email is the first one I read in the a.m. I look forward to reading it with my coffee.

I cannot trust any of the lamestream media. Look what they did all through the Obama administration. Lie upon lie. I have not read or watched any of them since the last two years of President George W. Bush.

How can anyone (with a brain) believe anything they say, especially after seeing their complete breakdown when my president, Donald Trump, won the election. I want you to know that you are a great news team. Don’t let anyone cause you to doubt that fact.—Hazel Sproull, Glendale, Ariz.

Dear Daily Signal: I’ve just started reading articles in The Daily Signal as a direct consequence of The Washington Post’s position that it shouldn’t be part of the White House press pool (“The Daily Signal Won’t Be Bullied by the Establishment Media“). I am supportive of more diverse voices in the media.

I’m not a Republican, but I am absolutely tired of one-sided coverage and the demonization of close to half the population in the U.S. I think it’s repugnant that conservatives are portrayed as racist, sexist xenophobes in most of what I read. That is not my first-hand experience, and I find it analogous to name-calling on the playground.

Disappointingly, this intellectually dishonest approach is what currently passes for thoughtful discourse in many circles. It forces one to be skeptical of anything one reads these days, which is the main reason why we need different views.—Dean Mathieson

The GOP Split Over Obamacare Replacement

Dear Daily Signal: The Heritage Foundation, and The Daily Signal, are quickly losing my support by turning on President Donald Trump and House Speaker Paul Ryan over the Republican leadership’s health care bill.

I am not a legislative guru, but I do understand that the enemy of a good plan is to hold out for the perfect plan. The American Health Care Act was not a clean repeal of Obamacare, but it was what could be passed within the rules that control the scheduling and procedures of both chambers, the House and the Senate.

Additionally, it looked to me that Trump and Ryan offered all that was possible to the bill, and the House Freedom Caucus still refused to compromise—with their own party, for goodness sake. I am very disappointed.

I am as conservative as they come, but Heritage and the folks of the Freedom Caucus are obstructing the chance for conservatives to govern.—Roger Rudd

Dear Daily Signal: I am a loyal voter for President Trump. Because of that, I am very worried that his administration’s declaring “war” on the House Freedom Caucus or the Congress in general will paralyze his potential.

How can we convince our president to work with and not against the GOP majority in both houses, including the patriots of the Freedom Caucus? —Hal Miner

A Day Without Men

Dear Daily Signal: OK, if it so revealing to have a Day Without Women, let’s try a Day Without Men (“‘A Day Without a Woman’ Strike Promotes Idea of Women as Helpless“). Let’s see what happens when citizens need the police, the fire department, the military, and a thousand common, everyday needs filled.

The local plumber, carpenter, electrician. Air conditioning service, garbage collection, highway construction and maintenance. And on and on and on. The greatest deficit in America today is old-fashioned common sense.—Jerry J.

Our Bodies, Our Lives

Dear Daily Signal: Amazing premise that we “own’” our bodies, Walter Williams (“Are You Really Pro-Liberty? Here Are a Few Tests“)! How did we get to “own” them? We did not buy them, correct? They were given to us by something that we cannot describe or understand fully.

Mr. Williams might be talking in his commentary about our “lives,” which would be a better analogy, except that we were taught how to live by our parents. They were taught by those before them, and so on back about a couple of million years or so, correct?

How far back do we go in choosing a particular way of living? Only 30 years? 50? 100? 500? 2000? There are many examples throughout history that seem to have worked much better, and many that have worked much worse, than today’s lifestyle. Maybe Mr. Williams could compare a few of the good ones and some of the bad ones for us, so we could make an informed decision for ourselves.

Also, much of what I want in life cannot be bought, in my opinion. I would like to hear what Mr. Williams thinks about those things that cannot be bought.—Barry Benjamin

How Are We Doing?

Great job. The Republicans better stand up to the Democrats and get Neil Gorsuch onto the Supreme Court. Now. Don’t let them delay any longer, as we need a positive vote on issues.—Audrey Lauer

Your Morning Bell emails have an unexpected pleasant twist to them. You actually have an email address for people to submit comments and a phone number where you can be contacted.—Paul Saucier

My compliments. You are doing great with your reports every day.—Ingrid Dohler, Esko, Minn.

Great reporting, thank you.—Helen McBroom

I get lots of emails on political news, but your Morning Bell is the most concise and informative. I like the headlines so I can read more if I have time.—Carolyn Gilbertson

Great job. I appreciate the work that you do to provide real news reports. I depend on The Daily Signal for true and accurate information.—Tommy Wilson, Lilburn, Ga.

Awesome. Signed a friend up and plan on becoming a donor. Keep up the good work, and thank you for helping save our country.—Madelyn Vanacore, Sterling, Conn.

The post We Hear You: I’m a Sailor, a Marine, and a Transgender Woman Who Was Born This Way appeared first on The Daily Signal.

from http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/we-hear-you-im-a-sailor-a-marine-and-a-transgender-woman-who-was-born-this-way/

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patriotnewsblogger-blog · 8 years ago

Text

We Hear You: I’m a Sailor, a Marine, and a Transgender Woman Who Was Born This Way

New Post has been published on http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/we-hear-you-im-a-sailor-a-marine-and-a-transgender-woman-who-was-born-this-way/

We Hear You: I’m a Sailor, a Marine, and a Transgender Woman Who Was Born This Way

Do all humans fall into one standard shape and size and color, texture, functionality of genitals (whether male of female)? No. Huge statistical variety there, too.

Why must gender be excluded from the statistical variability that is so easily observed in all of human nature? Well, it’s not.

“It is your turn to stand in defense of my rights now,” Cassandra Leigh Williamson writes. “Trans people are under assault.” (Photo: Cassandra Leigh Williamson)

Thank God, though, we know how to correct the misalignment.

Note: Cassandra Leigh Williamson, who lives in a small town in Missouri, has a website at cassandraleighwilliamson.com and recently began a video blog on YouTube called “Cassandra Leigh.”

Crashing the White House ‘Pool’ Party

The GOP Split Over Obamacare Replacement

I am as conservative as they come, but Heritage and the folks of the Freedom Caucus are obstructing the chance for conservatives to govern.—Roger Rudd

How can we convince our president to work with and not against the GOP majority in both houses, including the patriots of the Freedom Caucus? —Hal Miner

A Day Without Men

Our Bodies, Our Lives

Also, much of what I want in life cannot be bought, in my opinion. I would like to hear what Mr. Williams thinks about those things that cannot be bought.—Barry Benjamin

How Are We Doing?

Great job. The Republicans better stand up to the Democrats and get Neil Gorsuch onto the Supreme Court. Now. Don’t let them delay any longer, as we need a positive vote on issues.—Audrey Lauer

Your Morning Bell emails have an unexpected pleasant twist to them. You actually have an email address for people to submit comments and a phone number where you can be contacted.—Paul Saucier

My compliments. You are doing great with your reports every day.—Ingrid Dohler, Esko, Minn.

Great reporting, thank you.—Helen McBroom

I get lots of emails on political news, but your Morning Bell is the most concise and informative. I like the headlines so I can read more if I have time.—Carolyn Gilbertson

Great job. I appreciate the work that you do to provide real news reports. I depend on The Daily Signal for true and accurate information.—Tommy Wilson, Lilburn, Ga.

Awesome. Signed a friend up and plan on becoming a donor. Keep up the good work, and thank you for helping save our country.—Madelyn Vanacore, Sterling, Conn.

The post We Hear You: I’m a Sailor, a Marine, and a Transgender Woman Who Was Born This Way appeared first on The Daily Signal.

http://www.therightnewsnetwork.com/we-hear-you-im-a-sailor-a-marine-and-a-transgender-woman-who-was-born-this-way/ %cats%

#conservative #republican

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