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Jyn Syko Insta-Episodes I – V

2023 December 9
by Jen DiGiacomo

What started as a lark following a conversation with Jadeane from the Galactic Starcruiser Reservation Team whilst trying to secure a third passage aboard the Halcyon has since blossomed into a fun little narrative of Jyn Syko’s escapades prior to boarding the Starcruiser, and eventually will chronicle her canonical adventures throughout the Halcyon’s 275th Anniversary Celebration, and perhaps beyond. Please enjoy (and like!) Jyn Syko’s Insta-Episodes I through V!

 

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Oh! And don’t forget to check out my new Galactic Starcruiser Pride T-shirt!

Jyn Syko Insta-Episodes VI – X

2023 December 8
by Jen DiGiacomo

What started as a lark has since blossomed into a fun little narrative of Jyn Syko’s escapades prior to boarding the Galactic Starcruiser, and eventually will chronicle her canonical adventures throughout the Halcyon’s 275th anniversary celebration and beyond. Please enjoy (and like!) Jyn Syko’s Insta-Episodes VI through X!

 

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Catching Up with Jyn Syko and Lady H

2023 October 9
by Jen DiGiacomo

As follow up to my previous Galactic Starcruiser posts, I decided to to a roundup of my past posts, Facebook ramblings, and newly launched Red Bubble store. Enjoy! Jen/Jyn (jen@typingmonkeys.com)

Jen/Jyn Syko Galactic Starcruiser Sent Thank-You Emails

Jen/Jyn Galactic Starcruiser Facebook Ramblings

NEW! Jyn Syko Mini Red Bubble Store

 

Praise, Thanks and Tears for the Galactic Starcruiser Reservation Team

2023 September 28
by Jen DiGiacomo

Below is the email I wrote to the amazing Galactic Starcruiser Reservation Team after it became clear I was not going to get one last cruise aboard the Halcyon. I fear these amazing individuals, who I spent so much time chatting with, never received this missive, so if you happen to know any of them, please do forward this along. They are the unsung heroes of the Galactic Starcruiser experience, especially for all of us who called non-stop in the final few weeks hoping to snag a cabin after that mythical cancellation that sadly never happened. Ta’bu e tay!

Dear Galactic Starcruiser Reservation Team,

I write this from my hotel room in Disney Pop Century after the final voyage of the Galactic Starcruiser has departed. As background, I chose to drive down from New York City to Orlando this past weekend on the off chance I might secure passage with some kind soul who already had a cabin, or score my own by calling the Galactic Starcruiser line just as someone canceled.

Now when I booked my first voyage for September 6, I went through a friend of mine who is a Disney Travel Agent, so she could get the commission. As a result I was unaware of just how amazing the reservation team is. My second voyage on September 10 was very last minute. I happened to be in the right place at the right time on the day someone nabbed a cabin. Again, limited contact with your wonderful team.

After my second voyage, I was determined to have one last trip aboard the Halcyon and commenced calling as frequently as possible to make this a reality. And call frequently I did! To my surprise, the reservations team grew from strangers, to friends, to family. In a span of two and a half weeks, I discovered this amazing team, who had to tell hundreds of callers that there was no availability every single day, was not only friendly, upbeat, and sympathetic in the face of dire odds, but encouraging and empathetic because they knew first-hand how extraordinary and emotional the experience was.

We commiserated over our shared experiences, laughed about our common obsessions, and got misty eyed over the poignant moments aboard the Halcyon. I shared personal details with people I had never met, because they are that personable, that caring, and amazing human beings.

As the final voyages drew to a close, I found myself calling from my hotel room, first to find passage, then to talk with these extraordinary people one more time, and finally to share the sadness that their jobs at Galactic Starcruiser, the best jobs many of them had ever had, were coming to close.

This is the best team of people I’ve ever interacted with as a consumer, day in and day out. These are, well words fail me, that’s how brilliant they are, and I find myself literally unable to call tonight because I fear I will break down in tears on the phone, an unintelligible sobbing mess in response to any of them merely answering the phone. All the feels.

Allow me to share individual praise to so many folks who I felt like I went on a voyage with for the past two and a half weeks:

  • Pierre, who is one of the loveliest people I have ever chatted with.
  • Mayette, who was kind enough to direct me to a dinner location at Hollywood Studios during a driving rainstorm when I kept losing my way.
  • Jadeane, who encouraged me to start an Instagram for my character — in character — as seen here: https://www.instagram.com/jynsyko/
  • Marnie, who shares my love of Mustangs!

  • Tony, who is the only person I have ever met who knows more about X-Men comics than I do!
  • Grant, who was equally kind enough to redirect me back to my hotel room when I turned the wrong way multiple times coming off the Skyliner.
  • Rupert, who taught me to grasp how the booking and reservation system worked for the Starcruiser.
  • Netta, who kept encouraging us when we were ready to give — nothing yet!
  • Nell, who was always a joy to talk to and brightened my spirits after every call.
  • Kevin, who kept me laughing when I felt like giving up.
  • Myles, who was always so lovely and supportive and caring during all our calls.
  • Austin, who was always such a sweetheart!
  • Wanda, who always laughed at my jokes!
  • Samantha Nicole, who always took the briefest of pauses before saying her name!
  • And Ardis, who I didn’t realize I did go on voyage with, on 9/10!

There are so many amazing folks I’ve spoken with, it all blurs together, so forgive me getting the above details wrong or for leaving anyone out!

Seriously, this is an amazing team. And it breaks my heart that their time together is coming to a close. Believe me when I say I don’t usually write such long, emotional emails. But the Galactic Starcruiser teams have received two of those in short order — and I haven’t even started my love letter to the imagineers who conceived of this masterclass in immersive experience.

Much love to everyone and may the stars light your way!

Jen DiGiacomo/Jyn Syko

Galactic Starcruiser Fam: Thank You!

2023 September 21
by Jen DiGiacomo

If you arrived via Jyn Syko’s QR code, welcome! I would love to connect with as many of you as possible (Jyn’s Instagram; Jen’s Facebook | Instagram)! Below is the e-mail I sent to the galacticstarcruiserteam@disneyworld.com as heartfelt thanks to everyone involved in bringing life to the Halcyon. And thank YOU for being a part of an experience that has meant so much to me. Ta’bu e tay!

Dear Galactic Starcruiser Family,

Now that I’ve had some time to decompress following two September voyages aboard the Galactic Starcruiser in quick succession, I’ve finally been able to process why the experience has had such a profound effect on me, why I was so close to full body sobs on so many occasions, not only aboard the Halcyon, but afterwards whilst explaining my adventures to friends or merely replaying events in my head for the trillionth time (an unfortunate hazard of ADHD).

Unlike so many others in attendance, I was not a Star Wars fanatic when I boarded. Sure I saw the first film countless times when it came out, counted the seconds until the Holiday Special aired on CBS, collected the card sets for the first two films, even saw the Return of the Jedi at the very first showing. But ultimately, I found the franchise to be, IMHO, fatally flawed in how the force worked so disproportionately, first in young Anakin, then in Rey. Truth be told, I only really loved three or four of the films (IV, V, Rogue One and maybe Solo). But I always returned. Sharing it with my kids, collecting cool tchotkes, hunting down first-run versions of the original trilogy. The Mandalorian absolutely recaptured my interest (“I want to see the baby”), and I always knew I would eventually make it aboard the Galactic Starcruiser.

When news broke that the Halcyon would be sent to dry dock, I enlisted a dear friend and Disney travel agent extraordinaire (Andrea Mayo) to book my journey. 14 hours on hold, she finally got me a cabin, and I was thrilled to gift her a Halcyon lightsaber and shield as thank you. Countless friends declined the opportunity to join me primarily due to the recent laws in Florida, including my youngest who is gender fluid. Even when I offered free passage, the well remained dry. Two fellow Doctor Who fans finally took me up on my offer, Abie Eke and Christina Nicholls, and away we went, gathering at Galaxy’s Edge to fashion lightsabers at Savi’s Workshop the night before.

The trip itself was unforgettable. One truly experienced the feeling of being elsewhere after taking a shuttle to the Starcruiser. I even opted to buy a few things in the gift shop lest they sell out since we were so far from resupplying in port.  The cast members, all of them, were amazing. I mean, spectacularly amazing. Engaging, funny, so good at making sure everyone felt included. This was a top-notch experience — the best immersive adventure I have ever been a part of — and this is from someone who has written and run two LARPS — and been a part of, I don’t know, more than 20 LARPS, and other similar escapades.

I would be remiss to not shout out our photographer who was brilliant and quickly gave us all nicknames that matched our personalities to a T. I was, of course, Troublemaker, Trouble and Boss. The Sublight Lounge folks were brilliant, too — as were all the blue-clad cast members.

As day two drew to a close, there was a moment in the late dinner that took my breath away. Lt. Croy was speaking to Captain Keevan and said something to the effect that she was a very good captain, for a Pantoran. The entire audience gasped at that one line. My friend Abie who is black and myself who is transgender looked at each other, held hands and in that moment, I could no longer roleplay indifference to those supporting the First Order. This was no longer simply an immersive game, this was a parable, an analogy of what so many of us are facing in the real world, right outside of Disneyworld.

As the narrative of our journey came to a close, and others chatted about this and that, I looked for those with red-rimmed eyes to commiserate with. I found quite a few and we tried desperately not to lose it in front of everyone. A woman in a wheelchair who was incorporated into the storyline for the first time in her life — to hide a piece of luggage from the stormtroopers. Introverts finding themselves suddenly part of a community. So many of us so moved by all of this, hugging and trying not to ramble on with the cast about how transformative and emotional this experience really was. This emotion and this community formed over 40 some hours was a joy to behold. I do not exaggerate when I say we have online support groups — and every journey a private Facebook group to stay connected.

But it wasn’t until the next day, and a second journey, that everything crystallized. Why I love Star Wars so much. Why I am desperate to talk my way on board the Halcyon one more time. Why I am about to embark on a rewatch of everything Star Wars in chronological order. Because ultimately, Star Wars has a heart at the center of its narrative. A heart that isn’t so much about good over evil, but about hope. A New Hope, if you will, in the darkest of times, an allegory of *our* times, not merely a long time ago and far, far away, but today, much, much closer to home.

Please thank everyone on my behalf. I was the scoundrel known as Jyn on both voyages and every single cast member aboard made this an unforgettable and deeply emotional journey. Lenka Mok was… wow. We cried together after both voyages. And both Riathe Koles were absolute highlights. I include a few photos to show just how emotional it really was, for all of us. I even got a hug from Chewie! And not photographed was my wonderful interaction with Rey on the 9/6 voyage that moved me so much I find myself envisaging *her* as the humble, inspirational representation of the Resistance.

I’m still hoping for one more cruise to make sure I can spend time with all the cast members one more time and truly appreciate every second  on board. Regardless of the outcome, I will be in Batuu for the final day trip on 9/29 — and the party on Saturday night. Please let everyone I would love one last hug if they are in attendance.

Jennifer DiGiacomo aka Jyn
Jyn Instagram; Jen’s Facebook | Instagram

Posts of Jen Past: Death and Reproduction

2023 June 19
by Jen DiGiacomo

Jen’s Brilliant Idea #27: Revisit past escapades as blog posts for my (depending on when you read this) newly revamped personal website, a.k.a. Posts of Jen Past!

I co-wrote my second short film, Death and Reproduction, with comedian Rob Maher (the lead actor  in my first short, The P.O.B. Conspiracy) for the 2006 72 Film Fest in beautiful scenic Frederick, Maryland. Steve Gibson was our director, whilst Todd Moore, Valerie Moore, Karen Palting and Allison Levitt rounded out the cast. The best thing? We won the Grand Jury Award for Best Short.

You can watch the award-winning, five-minute short below. Did I mention it won not only for Best Short, but also for Best Acting? Oh wait, I just did. I think there may have been some voting irregularities for Best Writing. C’est la vie!

Not too shabby for a film we only had 72 hours to script, shoot, edit and compile, not to mention the panic attack I was experiencing the first day when I was struck by the reality that my likely impending divorce was actually inexorably marching towards inevitability (let’s also just acknowledge, for a moment, how much of a mouthful the previous sentence is for someone who has struggled with stuttering throughout most of their life!).

The best part is that you can’t detect one iota of my panic (or stuttering for that matter) in the the Frederick News-Post article by Linda Basilicato chronicling our adventures, as republished below sans permission (and as PDF, also without permission).

N.B.: I should note this film was shot eight years before I transitioned (hence the dodgy pronouns), when I was known by my then nickname “DiG” (hence the obligatory pronunciation guide).

Inside a house on Fourth Street in downtown Frederick a crazy jealous woman pulls a gun on her boyfriend as he kneels to propose. She has to pull the trigger again and again and again.

“No, don’t look at him. You can’t look at him. You’re too upset to look at him,” the director tells her.

Her boyfriend kneels again and again too.

He does it concerned, he does it playful, he does it fearful, he does it with guilt.

It takes an hour and a half to film what will be a one-minute scene.

Similar scenarios played out all over Frederick last weekend as 21 film crews worked quickly to produce a five-minute film short for the 72 Film Fest’s 72-hour narrative challenge. At the Thursday night launch party, teams randomly selected a sealed manila envelope containing a theme. Teams then had until 9 p.m. Sunday to turn in their tapes.

Team Open Bar drew “Death and Reproduction,” and after a brief pause began tossing out ideas. Before long they were headed for a downtown bar.

It was Guinness all around except for one Heineken and the ideas seemed already to be deteriorating: lesbians and catfights, zombie babies, cows mating.

Some of the crew members are more experienced than others. They’ve worked together over the years on various film and TV projects, but this is their first contest, and their first deadline-driven film.

Everyone is a bit manic. Everyone has ideas.

Karen Palting, of no fixed address, (she recently moved back to the area from L.A.) is the producer and task master. She asks everyone to take five minutes to privately brainstorm.

The chatter doesn’t stop, but everyone puts ideas to paper except for the director, Steve Gibson, of Frederick. He sees things visually, he says. It’s one of his images that provides the spark for the team’s narrative, and he will make the final edits.

On this first night, Steve is the quietest. After tossing out some action sequences, he lets the others fight over the story details, reminding them only about the limited amount of time. “I have a coffin idea, but we don’t have a coffin,” he said.

Scriptwriter Joel DiGiacomo — “DiG,” pronounced Dij — of Gaithersburg reinforces Steve: “Put ideas into a format we can use. We don’t want robots or spaceships,” he says.

By midnight the team has created a rough narrative around a man, a sperm bank, a gun and a crazy jealous girlfriend.

Actor Todd Moore of Virginia challenges the scriptwriters, DiG and Rob Maher, a Virginia-based comedian, to fill in his character and back story. DiG isn’t interested. He tells Todd he can worry about those details himself if he needs to; it’s not going in the script.

DiG seems apprehensive about the many versions of the story going around the table. Steve assures him he’s open to filming different versions, saying simply and more than once, “Write what you think will work.”

The next day while the writers work on the script, the rest of the team scouts for sites in and around Frederick. The grooming room at Two Paws Up is chosen to be the inside of the fertility clinic, Colonial Jewelers will be the jewelry shop, and City Hall will become the outside of the Sperm bank.

Scouting out the inside of the “clinic” Karen immediately starts planning the scene, asking repeatedly, “Will it work?”

Steve snaps, “Give me a second.” He looks at the grooming room from various angles. She tries to confirm a time for shooting an outdoor scene.

“Four, five, six?”

“Shh,” he says.

By Friday afternoon locations and actors are in place. The team has lost an actress they had picked up at the Launch Party — was it Mary Anne, Marie, Maribel? No one can remember. Karen, who was going to be the nurse, will now play the sexy neighbor. Todd and Rob think this is a good idea: Karen is busty, “What woman wouldn’t be jealous?”

They recruit Allison Levitt from Two Paws Up to be the nurse at the sperm bank.

“The things I do for my customers,” she says.

At lunch Karen wants to know if Todd should shave.

Steve, not quite losing patience, speaks slowly, clearly enunciating each word: “Before I shoot I need the script.”

“But don’t you have a vision?” Karen asks. “

No. I need a script. We may need this look, where, why I don’t know.”

Karen tells him to go have a cigarette.

Through Allison they get a contact for a gun. Steve leaves a message: Something like: “Hi my name is Steve, I met you in Allison’s backyard… I’m wondering if you have an — obviously unloaded — handgun I could borrow for a film I’m making.”

They get the script. Todd doesn’t like it.

“It’s not funny,” he says.

Steve takes a look while stopped at a red light. “I’m going to change it, and that will be it. It won’t be going back to the writers.”

They get the OK on the gun, but on late Friday afternoon they still don’t have specimen cups for the sperm bank. Karen has that scene penned in for 6 p.m.

On Saturday morning lead actress Valery Linn joins the group. She’s just returned from an audition in New York.

Todd wakes up at 6 a.m. to rework the script.

Steve wakes up a few hours later to a manic Todd: “I’ve got it all figured out. It’s brilliant.” But Steve just groans and says it won’t work.

Unlike Todd, Valery asks permission to change a line, even a word: “Can I say ‘what’s going on’ instead of ‘what’s new?”

Steve is open to suggestions, maybe because he knows he will do the final editing. He sometimes has them stick with the script, and sometimes tells them to improvise. For one scene he simply says “do it … more broad”

“What does that mean, more broad?” a frustrated Todd asks. “I don’t know. We’re almost out of tape. Surprise me, replies Steve.

Valery runs with it. Todd follows. It’s clearly the best take, the most natural.

“And cut. And that is the one I am going to use,” Steve says.

The volume in the room increases. There is an excited release. It’s obvious that the last cut really worked. The script for a moment became live.

The room empties out a little and Todd says shyly to Karen, “I actually made Steve smile.”

“I know. Can you believe it,” she says.

Todd has been struggling with his character since the ideas for the script were pitched. He wants to know his character’s motivation. He fiddles with the script any chance he gets. He wants it to make sense.

Steve reminds the actors of the limited time and resources, urging them to simplify. You don’t need a whole scene for what you can tell with an eyebrow raise, he says.

Valery struggles with how quickly her character goes crazy. She doesn’t want to understand it though, she simply wants to convey it. She spends her downtime with her head in her hands, pulling at her hair and making crazy faces, perhaps conjuring up memories of jilted love past. She complains that she just doesn’t feel it yet.

“And, action.”

She opens her eyes, enters the scene, catches her boyfriend hugging the buxom neighbor. She is no longer seeing Karen and Todd, but Dave and Samantha, the characters in the film. In the exchange, in the action, she finds her character, finds her craziness.

She is suddenly Laura.

The writers breathe life into the director, the director breathes life into the actors, the actors breathe life into the script.

“Writers are on the bottom of the food chain,” is how DiG explains it.

He and Rob wrote the story and handed it over to Steve. You start the script here, end it there and let everyone improvise, he says. “If a few lines survive, that’s cool.”

If they had more time to shoot, the writers would probably negotiate more, he says. “The danger here would be to write a script that is unusable given the time limitations.”

To produce the five-minute film, Steve will weed through almost two hours of tape.

He doesn’t mind leaving scenes on the cutting room floor. “I’ve been doing it long enough that I know how long it’s going to take… I’m open, I’ll film it, but I know if I’m not going to use it.”

Then it’s the audience’s turn, DiG says. “The movie plays, and you watch and you wait.

“Do they respond, do they get it? Or is there just dead silence?”

Musings of an Impossible Girl: A Triangle in a World of Circles and Squares

2016 July 13
by Jen DiGiacomo

In 2016, I worked on a then-passion project, Possible Girls, a website about possibilities, dedicated to women and trans women, geeks and nerds, and fangirls of all ages and all backgrounds. This is an article I wrote for the intended launch.

I’d like to say I’m a square peg in a round hole, but I’ve come to realize that I’m more of a triangle in the world of circles and squares.

I see the world differently than most; I always have, with my opinions frequently being characterized as coming from “out of left field.” Not that I’m complaining; I just try to see the world from different viewpoints, through different eyes, and synthesize that into my own unique perspective.

Certainly I see the good and the bad, but I try to focus on the good, on the positive. What we have in common, instead of what separates us. I try to see what the future can be, the possibilities in life. Like all people, I have my doubts from time to time, but that doubt, that little voice of what can go wrong, is what tends to prevent us from doing amazing things. And while I might not do amazing things, that won’t stop me from making the attempt.

But first, let me talk a little bit about that troublesome triangle.

You see, I am transgender. In world of gender binaries, I found myself wanting the world of one, whilst firmly planted in the other. It took me a lifetime to see that. I denied who I was; I hid who I was, always fearing someone would find out my deepest, darkest secret. For the longest time I thought there was something wrong me. Profoundly wrong with me. That I was broken. That I was a freak.

But one day, about two years ago, I saw my life in a way that I could not unsee. If you’ve ever seen All That Jazz, I had a moment of clarity. Like the final stage of Dr. Kübler-Ross’s five stages of death and dying, I finally accepted who I am. Like Davis Newman, the stand-up comedian, I stood in my living room, looked at the ceiling and shouted, “I accept!”

The catalyst? Realizing that this is who I’ve been since I was eight years old. In an epiphanic moment, I realized this wasn’t a phase or a bad habit I was going to quit some day. It was, it is, who I am. And that led me on a journey that I could not deny, I could not hide, not any longer.

To be honest, those first few months were the scariest of my life. Sure I accepted who I am, but would others? Would they think I’m broken, a freak? But to my surprise when I came out in what I like to dub my coming out tour, a majority of my friends embraced my decision, showing more support and love than I ever thought possible. And let me tell you, that’s an amazing feeling. After a lifetime of shame over who I was, the hiding, the secrets, the fear, I finally got to be me.

And while I had taken the first step, the road ahead was still not an easy one. And I don’t just mean the stares, the whispers, the outright contempt a trans woman can periodically experience out in the world. But staying true to myself. To maintain the authenticity of who I am. Not to become a caricature of a woman, not to adopt a persona, but to allow what I had kept locked away inside of me for so long to grow naturally, authentically.

It’s been almost two years since I said the words, “I accept,” and I’ve never been happier. It taught me that sometimes the hardest decisions are the ones we need to make. And while I do know what road I’m on, I don’t know exactly where it will lead or which exit I might take. But let me tell you, I’ve passed a lot more exits than I ever thought possible. Sometimes the journey is more important than the destination, as long as you enjoy the ride.

Many of my friends have called me brave. I don’t think that’s the right word. I think I finally stopped being a coward. Finally stopped being afraid.

All in all, being a triangle ain’t so bad.

Diary of a Time Girl: My Doctor Who Obsession Explained

2016 June 25
by Jen DiGiacomo

In 2016, I worked on a then-passion project, Possible Girls, a website about possibilities, dedicated to women and trans women, geeks and nerds, and fangirls of all ages and all backgrounds. This is an article I wrote for the intended launch.

I am obsessed with Doctor Who.

There I said it.

To put it mildly, I’ve seen every single episode of Doctor Who in chronological order. For the initiated, that’s over 825 episodes, spanning more than 50 years, and includes 97 lost episodes, 97 lost episodes that have been faithfully recreated by fans using the original audio, tele-snaps, found footage and, if I’m not mistaken, a bit of string.

So when I say I’m obsessed with Doctor Who, that might be a bit of an understatement.

I was first introduced to the good Doctor back in 1973. I was fortunate enough to grow up in Philadelphia, meaning I was privy to one of the first airings of Doctor Who in the United States. So unlike most of my contemporaries who first encountered “that guy with a scarf”, my first Doctor was the sartorially resplendent Jon Pertwee (or Jan Pertwee as the Philadelphia Inquirer so joyously announced) But more than just the Doctor, I was introduced to the brilliant Roger Delgado as the Master, the delightful Katy Manning as Jo Grant, and the legendary Nicholas Courtney as the Brigadier (“Five rounds rapid!”). But it was Jo Grant who struck me at a young age. At first a clumsy companion berated by the Doctor, she eventually blossomed into the hero of The Daemons, literally saving the Doctor’s life (spoilers!). A heroic woman in the ’70s. How cool was that?

The 10th anniversary special, The Three Doctors, however, was what turned my passing enjoyment into a lifelong obsession. It was in that serial where I learned that TWO other actors had played the eponymous role before my beloved Jan Pertwee, courtesy of something called regeneration. At that moment, a sacred quest was placed in front of me. A bucket list item for my future self. To watch every episode of Doctor Who in chronological order. A quixotic quest to be sure for I was oblivious that the BBC had lost, at that point, over 150 episodes of the series, wiped, erased and junked due to shortsighted bureaucratic policies.

Back in those halcyon days, I assumed Doctor Who was simply a rollicking good British adventure series. But looking back, I realize there were deeper currents at work.

While now I am openly transgender, back then I hid my inner desires, fueled by my shame over my inner self. I was supposed to be a boy, struggling with wanting to be a girl, even at the tender age of eight. But the Doctor, he reveled in his differentness. He was a hero. And better yet, as a Time Lord, he regenerated. New body, new personality, but still the same person. How I yearned to experience my own regeneration, hoping my new body would match the person I was inside.

And as the show has grown, so have I. Its message of inclusion inspires me, it’s embracing of possibilities clearly strikes a chord. And for me, and I understand not everyone agrees, but for me, the Steven Moffat era has been one mind-blowing epiphany after another.

Matt Smith as the Eleventh Doctor was a revelation. Eleventh Hour, especially. The hyperactivity. The mind working faster than his mouth. The utter insanity. My kids stared at the television screen in astonishment. A madman with a box. That was me. Of course the intervening years make it more likely that I am a madwoman with a box, but that phrasing, I fear, be dragons.

And then there was Impossible Girl. Oswin Oswald in the far future, Clara Oswin Oswald in the Victorian past, and finally Clara Oswald in the present, someone who shouldn’t exist, but does. These episodes aired while I was accepting who I was, who I am, when my transition became inevitable. And a life I thought impossible since age eight, was now reality. I was Impossible Girl, a concept, I joyfully embraced.

Not only has the series featured a transgender actor, but it also proved that gender is not what defines us. Take the wonderful villain Missy who proved that Time Lords can regenerate into Time Ladies. Yup, my favorite villain from the 1970s has now become my favorite villain of the 21st century. The Master has become the Mistress, and I finally regenerated into the person I am today. Still me, but different. And to mix fandoms, 20% cooler.

Doctor Who is about possibilities, all possibilities. And that message is one I not only embrace, but embody in mind, body, time and space.

Why Possible Girls

2016 May 28
by Jen DiGiacomo

In 2016, I worked on a then-passion project, Possible Girls, a website about possibilities, dedicated to women and trans women, geeks and nerds, and fangirls of all ages and all backgrounds. This is an article I wrote for the intended launch.

Charles Foster Kane printed his declaration of principles on the front page of the New York Daily Inquirer. I don’t feel the need to be so dramatic, but I would like to share with you why I founded Possible Girls.

Like most things in life, we start with a story. And with secrets.

I grew up with two secrets. The first was that I stuttered. The second was that I was transgender. The stuttering I learned to hide, the gender dysphoria I simply denied. That was a box I never was going to open.

So speaking fluently and accepting who I was, living as who I was, that was impossible. Quite literally as impossible for me as living on the moon.

But fast forward to today and I now have full fluency. So much so that no one can shut me up. Seriously. Don’t even try. And not only have I accepted that I’m transgender, but I’ve been living as a trans woman coming on two years, living that life that was so impossible not so long ago and waking up every morning with a lopsided grin, thankful for all the people in my life who have so openly and warmly accepted me for who I am.

Hence my nickname, Impossible Girl.

I share this because one night not long ago, I awoke not with a lopsided grin but with an inspiring thought. So achingly clear, I had to pace around my apartment in the middle of the night and ponder the possibilities, lest I lose the idea by morning. The next few hours I brainstormed as I do on my crêpe-papered A Beautiful Mind wall, and when the sun arose, I knew I had hit upon something.

Possible Girls.

A site dedicated to what is possible. For women and trans women. For geeks and nerds and fangirls of all ages, all backgrounds. About endless possibilities in life and in the worlds of fiction that bind so many of us together.

But it’s also about being relentlessly positive and finding the joy in life and in our obsessions. Viewing the glass half full and understanding that we are all unique and special and capable of amazing things. For as long as we believe in ourselves, nothing is impossible. Take it from someone who experienced that epiphany in a Dr.-Kübler-Rossian moment of clarity, seeing life in a way that simply could not be unseen.

TL:DR: A site about inspiring and, hopefully, empowering women and transwomen. Showing what is possible, one inspirational story at a time: women and trans women directors, writers, artists, doctors, scientists, teachers, and mentors. Together making a difference in the world, one girl at time. Because in the end, we are all possible girls.

A quixotic quest perhaps, but one most definitely worth pursuing.

Quixotic was, perhaps, more accurate than I had intended, as this project got back-burnered due to lack of time, money and, well, life.

Swimmin’ with Turtles

2016 March 21
by Jen DiGiacomo

In 2015, I launched a blog for Margaritaville.com. As is my norm, I wrote the early mini-posts as examples of what their content approach and voice should be: light, fun and worthy of being shared from a barstool whilst sipping a margarita.

The Caribbean is filled with a wonderful collection of unforgettable critters. Drunk monkeys in St. Kitts, potcake puppies in Turks & Caicos and swimming pigs in the Bahamas. Well, Barbados is no different, ‘cause they’ve got turtles. Sea turtles.

Barbados is home to a protected and growing population of beautiful hawksbill and leatherback turtles. And these turtles are surprisingly sociable, despite being real homebodies, too. They’re accustomed to their routines and love the humans who come to swim with them around the coral. In fact, local fishermen even feed and care for them and have been know to scrape barnacles off their backs! (Hey, we’d stick around for free spa treatments, too.)

Now if these turtle adventures give you goose bumps, the good news is that Barbados has built a thriving cottage industry around these endangered creatures. There are literally dozens of tours to choose from with unforgettable catamaran trips, including a delicious local lunch, rum punch (the real seller) and, of course, snorkeling with the friendly turtles. But unlike the pigs in the Bahamas, these cute creatures won’t try to jump into your boat. Nope, they’ll just steal your heart.