That wasn't supposed to happen. I let six months elapse between blog posts, though I suppose that's somewhat appropriate, being that the last message was entitled "Six Months". Ba-dum tish. I wish I could say that I've been busy, but that's only partially true. The truth is, I've been distracted, by all manner of things. I wanted to post a few different times in the interim, but I could never get my thoughts organized quite to my satisfaction. I was also having trouble trying to describe events without making the participants (myself included) sound like assholes.
I managed to go the whole year without a proper job. Along the way I learned that my not getting hired was not due to my credit history, but a criminal charge I was completely unaware of. Suffice to say, I now have a misdemeanor conviction for fraud, for which I am currently on probation. I also have court costs and other fees to pay, but at least I'm not in jail.
In August, I narrowly escaped becoming homeless. My therapist helped me apply for a berth in a reputable homeless shelter, but I needed someplace to crash until said berth opened up. My friends Troy and River stepped up and let me stay in their spare bedroom for about a month. Around the same time, River's dad entered the hospital. He's 91, and suffers from a lot of things, but is hobbled by dementia. I spent a night with him in the hospital, and we hit it off somewhat. When he was released, he needed someone to stay with him 24/7, and I was asked to take on the job. That gave me both a place to live and some income.
Having a base and spending money brought my femme self back out of the closet. My housemate accepted me as a woman, and I've spent the last three months sliding back and forth between my personae. I've presented myself as male when I needed to, as when I appeared in court, reported to my probation officer, etc, and have tried to spend the balance of my time en femme. I've expanded my wardrobe, and made new friends and contacts. I've met with a lot of acceptance, but also weathered a bit of ribbing and more recently, some nasty street harassment. It's ironic. In the last couple of weeks, a number of drivers or passengers have rolled alongside me to shout something, but they're going too fast or something, because I've not understood a word of it. I hear the tones, and I know derogation when I hear it, but other than a muttered "faggot" and a lot of laughter, I haven't heard the substance of most of the slurs. I guess my MP3 player is good for hearing protection after all. ;)
Anyway, as I enter the new year, I find myself almost returned to my situation of a few months ago. My aged companion has announced that he is ready (at long last) to enter assisted living, and when he goes, I will be back out on the street. Maybe the shelter will still take me in. I'm just not sure how I want to go. When I first applied, I was looking at going into the male dorm. All my feminine trappings were in storage, and I didn't know when I'd see them again. I was willing to put up with that experience to keep a roof over my head. After the freedom of this last season, I am not sure that I am willing to go without. I don't think I am feminine enough to get a spot in the female dorms, but I don't know if I can put on the rough airs I might need to weather the male spaces, either.
Whatever happens in the near future, I will try to do better at updating this blog on a regular basis.
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Definitely Not
All that fuss of a few weeks ago turned out for nought. I went back to the business to see exactly what had become of my application/background check, and was told that I had been declined, based on something discovered in the course of the check. They declined to hire me, based on the findings of an anonymous third-party agency. When I asked why, they couldn't tell me, so it's all on the anonymous agency.
That's okay. I didn't want to work there anyway.
Bullshit. I'd take anything on offer at this point. Crap jobs, shit jobs (and there is a difference), anything available, so long as they pay something.
The last time I was out of work this long, I started thinking about self-harm. That's enough of that.
That's okay. I didn't want to work there anyway.
Bullshit. I'd take anything on offer at this point. Crap jobs, shit jobs (and there is a difference), anything available, so long as they pay something.
The last time I was out of work this long, I started thinking about self-harm. That's enough of that.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Why?
Why is it that big, seemingly momentous events always take place after my therapy sessions? I suppose that it must be so that I don't do anything rash. I have twelve days to think on things before I go back to see Cassandra. The truth is that I don't deal very well with the here-and-now. Decisions made in the heat of the moment always seem to backfire, and I'm not in a very good spot to deal with that sort of thing. Rash actions always have unforseen repercussions, and I do not need anything more unforseen or worse, undesired. Anyway, before I go back, I'm supposed to write something about my dreams for the future. Ha! I don't know that I do that anymore.
I used to have what I thought were visions. I thought I could actually see some events in the future. The problem was, it was only ever the most mundane of occurrences, and I only experienced the feeling of "deja vu" after the fact. When I was in the seventh grade, I walked up the my history teacher's desk and caught a coffee cup that was teetering on the edge. Boing! There was that feeling, that twinge of otherness. It didn't come again until I was twenty-one. Riding up the escalator from the NY subway into the daylight of Manhattan. Boing! I can't say that I have felt that sort of cognitive dissonance at any time since. What's the use of precognition if all one can see is humdrum everyday stuff?
I used to have what I thought were visions. I thought I could actually see some events in the future. The problem was, it was only ever the most mundane of occurrences, and I only experienced the feeling of "deja vu" after the fact. When I was in the seventh grade, I walked up the my history teacher's desk and caught a coffee cup that was teetering on the edge. Boing! There was that feeling, that twinge of otherness. It didn't come again until I was twenty-one. Riding up the escalator from the NY subway into the daylight of Manhattan. Boing! I can't say that I have felt that sort of cognitive dissonance at any time since. What's the use of precognition if all one can see is humdrum everyday stuff?
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
The Depths of Despair
I can deal with unemployment, such as that is. Getting the internet in drips and drabs is also proving survivable. Six days ago, my Xbox 360 went on the fritz, and that, ladies and gentles, may be the death of me.
I'm still taking my meds (I got back onto Abilify, and it's done wonders). I've got my therapy with Cassandra every two weeks, and through the auspices of a co-op with the Bond Clinic, I've had a physical and some blood work done. My general health has been a little surprising. My weight is down to about 204, and my height is 5'11.5" (I shrunk an inch and a quarter!). Blood tests reveal that I have normal blood pressure, am not diabetic, and am HIV-negative. My body mass index is a tetch high, and don't get me started on the Body Surface Index. BMI makes a certain kind of sense, but who thought it was a good idea to tell folks how many square meters one's skin will cover?
When I'm not looking for work, books and videos fill my time. I've always read a lot, but I am finishing books at a rate which is prodigious. The local library has a respectable DVD collection, and I've been catching up on movies from the last five or six years.
I'm still taking my meds (I got back onto Abilify, and it's done wonders). I've got my therapy with Cassandra every two weeks, and through the auspices of a co-op with the Bond Clinic, I've had a physical and some blood work done. My general health has been a little surprising. My weight is down to about 204, and my height is 5'11.5" (I shrunk an inch and a quarter!). Blood tests reveal that I have normal blood pressure, am not diabetic, and am HIV-negative. My body mass index is a tetch high, and don't get me started on the Body Surface Index. BMI makes a certain kind of sense, but who thought it was a good idea to tell folks how many square meters one's skin will cover?
When I'm not looking for work, books and videos fill my time. I've always read a lot, but I am finishing books at a rate which is prodigious. The local library has a respectable DVD collection, and I've been catching up on movies from the last five or six years.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Going Forward, Finally
Back in May I wrote a piece I called Beginning Again, For the First Time, wherein I expressed hopeful feelings about my future, and expected developments in my transition. Well, to make the long story short, spring became summer and eventually autumn, and no progress was made of any kind. At least not the kind intended. I think I've said before that depression is all kinds of fun, and I failed to treat mine in a responsible fashion. That is now in the past.
In November, I started attending the meetings of Transgender Tallahassee, the local support group. Later in the month, I went back to Apalachee Center to refill my scrips, and discovered that my case worker had retired. I got to meet my new case worker, and she immediately scheduled me to see a counselor. We've had two sessions, and I'm going back to see her next week.
In the midst of all this goodness, I lost my job. Yes, again. Back in October, a guest vaguely complained that I was "rude and unprofessional". I don't remember it that way, but the complaint came in the form of a guest survey, so the event generated a written warning and my working hours were slashed. After a couple of weeks of working two or three shifts, I was informed of more complaints and given the boot. I had about sixty seconds of dark, dark thinking, but I took a couple of deep breaths and kept going. I've registered with the local employment agency and have dropped applications and resumes at all of the hotels in the neighborhood of the old place. I've even applied at non-hotel jobs, because I need to work.
I think I understand the AA theory of taking things one day at a time.
In November, I started attending the meetings of Transgender Tallahassee, the local support group. Later in the month, I went back to Apalachee Center to refill my scrips, and discovered that my case worker had retired. I got to meet my new case worker, and she immediately scheduled me to see a counselor. We've had two sessions, and I'm going back to see her next week.
In the midst of all this goodness, I lost my job. Yes, again. Back in October, a guest vaguely complained that I was "rude and unprofessional". I don't remember it that way, but the complaint came in the form of a guest survey, so the event generated a written warning and my working hours were slashed. After a couple of weeks of working two or three shifts, I was informed of more complaints and given the boot. I had about sixty seconds of dark, dark thinking, but I took a couple of deep breaths and kept going. I've registered with the local employment agency and have dropped applications and resumes at all of the hotels in the neighborhood of the old place. I've even applied at non-hotel jobs, because I need to work.
I think I understand the AA theory of taking things one day at a time.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Not That Bad, Really
Depression is a funny thing. I don't mean that it's entertaining, though I suppose that it can be. What I do mean is that it's an up-and-down situation. Last Sunday I was feeling down on myself, but Saturday was actually a pretty good day, and it took some introspection to recognize it for what it was. 20/20 hindsight is nice, but I wouldn't mind being able to seeing the good for what it is, when it is.
Last Saturday I spent my time at the first ever Florida Secular Rally. We got off to a bit of a late start (the stage wasn't delivered until late), but a good time was had by all. There were speeches from various luminaries of the secular/atheist movement, entertainment by Shelley Segal and Greydon Square. We had some of the best food truck catering on the planet, courtesy of Sir Cheezy and The Great American Sandwich Station. I got to spend the day with some really awesome people, all of whom were totally okay with me en femme (and they all used the correct pronouns).
Oddly enough, there was one trans blogger there, and I watched her presentation, but somehow never worked up the nerve to introduce myself. That was Zinnia Jones, and you'll find a link to her blog on the right side of the page here. I am embarrassed that I had never heard of her before this event was organized. Months ago, I was asked if I knew any LGBT bloggers who wrote about the secular life, and I all but drew a blank. I knew of Greta Christina, but knowing of is not knowing, if you know what I mean. The months whizzed by, and one of the organizers told me they got Zinnia Jones, and I said "Who?" Anyway, her bit is on Youtube, and you can see it here.
True story: all night long, people came up to me at the after party and told me they loved my presentation. Zinnia looked to be about six inches shorter than me, with long dark hair. I was dressed all in black, with only my flaming red hair to break up the monochromatic theme. I don't know how anyone could have confused us, but if I must resemble someone else, I could do a lot worse.
Last Saturday I spent my time at the first ever Florida Secular Rally. We got off to a bit of a late start (the stage wasn't delivered until late), but a good time was had by all. There were speeches from various luminaries of the secular/atheist movement, entertainment by Shelley Segal and Greydon Square. We had some of the best food truck catering on the planet, courtesy of Sir Cheezy and The Great American Sandwich Station. I got to spend the day with some really awesome people, all of whom were totally okay with me en femme (and they all used the correct pronouns).
Oddly enough, there was one trans blogger there, and I watched her presentation, but somehow never worked up the nerve to introduce myself. That was Zinnia Jones, and you'll find a link to her blog on the right side of the page here. I am embarrassed that I had never heard of her before this event was organized. Months ago, I was asked if I knew any LGBT bloggers who wrote about the secular life, and I all but drew a blank. I knew of Greta Christina, but knowing of is not knowing, if you know what I mean. The months whizzed by, and one of the organizers told me they got Zinnia Jones, and I said "Who?" Anyway, her bit is on Youtube, and you can see it here.
True story: all night long, people came up to me at the after party and told me they loved my presentation. Zinnia looked to be about six inches shorter than me, with long dark hair. I was dressed all in black, with only my flaming red hair to break up the monochromatic theme. I don't know how anyone could have confused us, but if I must resemble someone else, I could do a lot worse.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Pulling the Plug
I don't know if anyone still reads this thing, but I am thinking of quitting. My writing has been the most sporadic since I started this thing, despite almost my almost universal access to the web. It's not that I don't have anything else to say; it's just that I don't know if anyone is reading the blog. My last few posts generated a little feedback on Facebook, and a few of them have picked up +1s from Google+, but I don't think anyone is reading the actual blog. I haven't fielded a single comment all year, and that hurts.
I realize that I began this blog as yet another trans blog (did you know there is an actual Yet Another Trans Girl Blog out there?) in a crowd that was already jam-packed. Starting a blog was not the wellspring of inspiration I thought it would be. I thought that having an outlet for my writing would be enough, and for a time it was. My Muse bailed on me, though, and lately I have lacked the will to scale Parnassus to find her. See what I just wrote there? I CAN do this, it's just grown so damned hard. I could write, ad infinitum, about my ongoing love of video games, but I've gotten the sense no one wants to read that stuff here. There are scores of dedicated gamer blogs, blessedly unencumbered by the author's gender identity hang-ups. Ditto for any of the other things that have captured my fancy over the years. There are other sources for that stuff. Anything new to see here? Probably not.
The end of this blog isn't set in stone or anything. I just need to know if I still have an audience. I'm likely to write a little something later this month, if for no other reason because Bioware are releasing a new downloadable content pack for Mass Effect 3, and I may feel compelled to say a little something about it. If anyone actually is still reading me, please, please drop me a line. I'd even accept a well-worded rant at this point.
I realize that I began this blog as yet another trans blog (did you know there is an actual Yet Another Trans Girl Blog out there?) in a crowd that was already jam-packed. Starting a blog was not the wellspring of inspiration I thought it would be. I thought that having an outlet for my writing would be enough, and for a time it was. My Muse bailed on me, though, and lately I have lacked the will to scale Parnassus to find her. See what I just wrote there? I CAN do this, it's just grown so damned hard. I could write, ad infinitum, about my ongoing love of video games, but I've gotten the sense no one wants to read that stuff here. There are scores of dedicated gamer blogs, blessedly unencumbered by the author's gender identity hang-ups. Ditto for any of the other things that have captured my fancy over the years. There are other sources for that stuff. Anything new to see here? Probably not.
The end of this blog isn't set in stone or anything. I just need to know if I still have an audience. I'm likely to write a little something later this month, if for no other reason because Bioware are releasing a new downloadable content pack for Mass Effect 3, and I may feel compelled to say a little something about it. If anyone actually is still reading me, please, please drop me a line. I'd even accept a well-worded rant at this point.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Beginning Again, for the First Time
This blog is full of my dissembling about transition. I've always said that I intend to transition, but in three years I have not taken one action to further that process. Sure, there have been some obstacles thrown into my way, but I could still have at least spoken to someone in a position to help me, and I haven't. Well, there will be no more of that. Last week I spoke to my case worker at Apalachee Center about finding a specialist in gender identity, and he said he would find me one. I've got my follow-up appointment in June, and we'll see what he comes up with.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Back from the Brink
Just like that, I went a couple of months without updating the blog. I didn't mean to leave it so long, it's just that there's been a lot going on, and I haven't always been able to shape my thoughts into something coherent, or that anyone would necessarily want to read.
Now, my head's a little clearer. To say that the last couple of months have been eventful would be an understatement. Mass Effect 3 was finally released, and it was okay. Shortly after, I started getting meds again, and I'll hopefully be starting therapy soon. A little over a month ago, my father died. Last but not least, I've started going out and about again, interacting with folks in my feminine persona, and I've largely been accepted. Is it any wonder I've had trouble making sense of it all? I've laid it all out in chronological order, but I hope you'll forgive me if I jump around a bit.
I finally got around to seeing a case worker at the Apalachee Center at the end of February. A couple of weeks after, I saw an ARNP, who gave me scrips for my previous medications, along with a new one, a drug called Abilify. The drugs have helped banish most of my dark thoughts, but they haven't quite un-fogged my brain this time around. I've got another appointment next week, and I'll see if they can adjust things. I haven't made it into any therapy, mostly because I'm not sure where I fit into their programs. When I first came to them last summer, I was jobless and nearly homeless. Today I have a regular job, and make a little more money than their average patient. Hopefully I'll find out something positive next week.
The next paragraph includes spoilers for the game Mass Effect 3. If you haven't played the game, or don't want to know about it, skip the next few bits, and I'll try to signal you when I get past all that.
As you may have heard, Mass Effect 3 was released in March to much fanfare. It is a great game, but it's a little hard for me to play, and not because the gameplay is difficult. ME3 is the end of a series, and it's one of the darkest games I've ever played. There is death and destruction of unparallelled levels; planets fall, people die in the millions, and even your own party members can die. Worst of all, all but one of the possible endings includes the death of Commander Shepard, the hero. That's tough. After three games and countless hours of playing through to different ends and outcomes, I am Commander Shepard. The people who die are my crew, my squadmates. I felt their deaths as acutely as if they were real people.
Okay, anyone who checked out because of my video game nonsense can come back in now.
Dad died April 9th, of lung cancer. Apparently, he went quietly, and not in pain. Losing him hurts, but somehow it doesn't hurt as much as the way I learned of his death. Dad apparently went into the hospital in mid-March. He was there for about three weeks before the end. His nurse called a couple of hours before, to let us know he had maybe a couple of days. She called back less than two hours later to inform us of his passing. I would've liked to know he was sick. I might've been able to work out a way to visit him, had I known. When I finally learned, I was broke (till payday, anyway) and not in a position to come to a funeral.
I've had a hard time grieving. I've cried a little, but I'm emotionally worn. I've been tired, irritable and somewhat emotional, and that's with the aid of antidepressants. Who knows what a wreck I might be left to my own devices?
On a more positive note, as I mentioned before, I've been getting out a bit. Two weeks ago I stepped out for a pedicure, my first since last year. Last week I got out for a Tallahassee Atheist event, a rally in front of the Capitol in support of a National Day of Reason. I remember joking with someone that being transgendered was more acceptable to some people than being an atheist. I had a good time, and we had a nice dinner afterward. It's nice to have friends and be part of something again.
Now, my head's a little clearer. To say that the last couple of months have been eventful would be an understatement. Mass Effect 3 was finally released, and it was okay. Shortly after, I started getting meds again, and I'll hopefully be starting therapy soon. A little over a month ago, my father died. Last but not least, I've started going out and about again, interacting with folks in my feminine persona, and I've largely been accepted. Is it any wonder I've had trouble making sense of it all? I've laid it all out in chronological order, but I hope you'll forgive me if I jump around a bit.
I finally got around to seeing a case worker at the Apalachee Center at the end of February. A couple of weeks after, I saw an ARNP, who gave me scrips for my previous medications, along with a new one, a drug called Abilify. The drugs have helped banish most of my dark thoughts, but they haven't quite un-fogged my brain this time around. I've got another appointment next week, and I'll see if they can adjust things. I haven't made it into any therapy, mostly because I'm not sure where I fit into their programs. When I first came to them last summer, I was jobless and nearly homeless. Today I have a regular job, and make a little more money than their average patient. Hopefully I'll find out something positive next week.
The next paragraph includes spoilers for the game Mass Effect 3. If you haven't played the game, or don't want to know about it, skip the next few bits, and I'll try to signal you when I get past all that.
As you may have heard, Mass Effect 3 was released in March to much fanfare. It is a great game, but it's a little hard for me to play, and not because the gameplay is difficult. ME3 is the end of a series, and it's one of the darkest games I've ever played. There is death and destruction of unparallelled levels; planets fall, people die in the millions, and even your own party members can die. Worst of all, all but one of the possible endings includes the death of Commander Shepard, the hero. That's tough. After three games and countless hours of playing through to different ends and outcomes, I am Commander Shepard. The people who die are my crew, my squadmates. I felt their deaths as acutely as if they were real people.
Okay, anyone who checked out because of my video game nonsense can come back in now.
Dad died April 9th, of lung cancer. Apparently, he went quietly, and not in pain. Losing him hurts, but somehow it doesn't hurt as much as the way I learned of his death. Dad apparently went into the hospital in mid-March. He was there for about three weeks before the end. His nurse called a couple of hours before, to let us know he had maybe a couple of days. She called back less than two hours later to inform us of his passing. I would've liked to know he was sick. I might've been able to work out a way to visit him, had I known. When I finally learned, I was broke (till payday, anyway) and not in a position to come to a funeral.
I've had a hard time grieving. I've cried a little, but I'm emotionally worn. I've been tired, irritable and somewhat emotional, and that's with the aid of antidepressants. Who knows what a wreck I might be left to my own devices?
On a more positive note, as I mentioned before, I've been getting out a bit. Two weeks ago I stepped out for a pedicure, my first since last year. Last week I got out for a Tallahassee Atheist event, a rally in front of the Capitol in support of a National Day of Reason. I remember joking with someone that being transgendered was more acceptable to some people than being an atheist. I had a good time, and we had a nice dinner afterward. It's nice to have friends and be part of something again.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Counting Down the Days
Three days till I sit down with someone at the Apalachee Center to see if I can get back into an outpatient psych program. Fourteen days till the release of Mass Effect 3. One event fills me with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, whilst the other fills me with excitement. Yeah, I know. My priorities are out of whack. If it takes the hope for a new video game to get me through the next two weeks, I see it as a small price to pay.
If I can get back into the program, then I can start seeing a therapist, get back onto antidepressants, and maybe get a referral to a gender specialist. I don't like the idea of being dependent on chemicals, but I have seen what has become of me without them, and I'll risk a little dependency for peace of mind. In any case, I'll know something in a few days.
It's been on-and-off, but I've been going out more. I haven't been back to the movies, but I've done some shopping, and last weekend I made it out to another Skeptics in the Pub event. This time I managed to get out en femme. No one had anything negative to say, not even the folks who didn't know about that side of me. It's nice hanging out with open-minded people.
I haven't let my love for video games dominate this blog, but I have occasionally let it have its way here. Today is the latest instance. This trailer features my character, the (real) female Commander Shepard.
This trailer debuted last night during AMC's "The Walking Dead", it shows a little of what the player is fighting for.
On February 14th, Bioware released a demo of the game over Xbox Live, and I have been playing it over and over. They don't let you import your established characters into the demo, but you get to play as each of the six character classes, and they let you play out the game's opening level, as well as an abbreviated version of a later section, so you can try out some of the new abilities and such. It's a great intro to the game and universe for new players, as well as a nice teaser for those of us who have followed since the beginning of the trilogy. I have more to say about the game, but I fear it'd be opaque to most of my readers, so I'll abstain from a deeper critique. Maybe after the game comes out I'll write something lengthier.
If I can get back into the program, then I can start seeing a therapist, get back onto antidepressants, and maybe get a referral to a gender specialist. I don't like the idea of being dependent on chemicals, but I have seen what has become of me without them, and I'll risk a little dependency for peace of mind. In any case, I'll know something in a few days.
It's been on-and-off, but I've been going out more. I haven't been back to the movies, but I've done some shopping, and last weekend I made it out to another Skeptics in the Pub event. This time I managed to get out en femme. No one had anything negative to say, not even the folks who didn't know about that side of me. It's nice hanging out with open-minded people.
I haven't let my love for video games dominate this blog, but I have occasionally let it have its way here. Today is the latest instance. This trailer features my character, the (real) female Commander Shepard.
This trailer debuted last night during AMC's "The Walking Dead", it shows a little of what the player is fighting for.
On February 14th, Bioware released a demo of the game over Xbox Live, and I have been playing it over and over. They don't let you import your established characters into the demo, but you get to play as each of the six character classes, and they let you play out the game's opening level, as well as an abbreviated version of a later section, so you can try out some of the new abilities and such. It's a great intro to the game and universe for new players, as well as a nice teaser for those of us who have followed since the beginning of the trilogy. I have more to say about the game, but I fear it'd be opaque to most of my readers, so I'll abstain from a deeper critique. Maybe after the game comes out I'll write something lengthier.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
New Experiences
Monday was my first day off after several, and I decided I wanted to go to the movies. I also decided to make this outing en femme. I somehow missed out on writing about it, but I did finally get a couple of outings during the fall. On the first I went out to attend that museum show I wrote about, but due to unforeseen circumstances, I never made it to the museum. My second trip out was simply a low-key trek across town to pick up my meds. I didn't have any real negative experiences, aside from the usual occasional laughter. I can live with laughter. It's much preferable to violence of any kind.
The weather of late has been wonky, even for Florida. We've had cold, rainy days followed by sunny and hot. Monday I ventured out in jeans and a sweater, and I was plenty warm, though I brought a denim jacket just in case. I wore a pair of boots I'd picked up for just such an occasion, Merona Kamischel Lug-Sole Boots in Grey from Target. I'd wanted to get out early, but I have motivational issues without my regular medication, and I got a late start. I didn't make it out the door until 1600.
Vicki was nice enough to drive me up to my bus stop, and from there I caught the bus into the downtown area. I then walked six blocks over to catch another bus which delivered me to the mall. I arrived there around 1715, and to my dismay, the movie I'd come to see, David Fincher's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo didn't start until 1845. I had about an hour and a half to kill, and I had a little spending money with me, so I decided to shop a bit. Tallahassee Mall has been on a downward trend for years, and there are far more empty storefronts there than open stores, but they have Burlington Coat Factory, Barnes & Noble, and a Victoria's Secret. That last store was having their Semi-Annual Sale, featuring panties for $2.99 and bras for $15.99. I bought one of each. That was one of my new experiences. I've shopped at VS before, but only bought something for one of my nieces. I seem to remember writing about a previous trip there when I lived in Virginia. I don't remember being treated very well, and I remember being put off because the salesperson wanted me to buy a poorly-fitting bra. I didn't have that experience this time. The salespeople I met were very welcoming. The other customers I interacted with were nice, also. The sale bras were "sorted" into bins by their band and cup size. I'm wearing 38D now, and the 38D bins didn't have very many 38D bras in them, or even 38s of any size. I guess a day of customers pawing through the bins would disorder them, and if they were as busy all day as they were when I shopped there, then maybe they didn't have time to re-sort them.
One thing I want to mention here, that I haven't gotten around to saying before, is that I've lost weight. At my heaviest last year, I was pushing 230. I'm down to 200. Must be work and all that walking. It's been nice, because some of my tops and such look a lot better, but it's also a bit of a pain, because my pants don't fit anymore. For the last four or five years, I've been wearing size 12-14 jeans, and now they don't fit. None of them, from any manufacturer, will stay up on my waist or hips without the addition of a belt. I've gotten out and bought a couple of new pairs in the junior size 11. They're a little snug, but they're comfortable all the same. I'm still large on top, but I've lost a couple of inches in my chest, hence the 38 bras.
After VS, I hiked to the other end of the mall to Barnes & Noble. I really didn't want to buy any books, but looking at them can eat up a lot of time, and it did. I also got hit on. There was this really persistent gentleman wandering the scifi stacks, and he really wanted to chat me up. I suppose I should be flattered, because he either didn't "read" me, or he didn't care. He said he thought I was hot, and he wanted to get to know me better, but it was getting late, and my movie was starting soon, and he made me nervous, so I apologized and told him I wasn't interested, and beat feet for the theater.
The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo was one of the best book adaptations I've seen in a long time. Fincher made a couple of changes from the novel, but I don't think they detracted from the story at all, and I think they might help if he's successful in making the rest of the Millennium trilogy. I think Noomi Rapace was the best feature of the original Swedish productions, but Rooney Mara IS Lisbeth Salander. She totally owned the character, from the "Fuck you!" street persona to the underlying vulnerability and all the nuances in between. I love the horn earrings she wore in the movie, and I was much dismayed to learn that H&M sold out of them (as well as every stitch of the clothing line).
The movie didn't let out until 2130, and that posed a problem for me getting home. The last bus toward home ran past the mall at 2145, and it took me longer than that to walk around to the front side of the mall where the bus stop is. I messaged Vicki to see if I could get a ride. She was tied up across town waiting for her husband to get off from work, so I walked up the road to the nearby Whataburger to wait. It wasn't my first choice for either food or a place to wait, but there aren't many stores or restaurants in that neighborhood that are open late, so that's where I went. I ordered a combo and sat down to eat and wait. After the meal, I got bored, and decided to start walking. I messaged Vicki to let her know I was moving on, and that I'd try to get closer to home so it'd be easier for them to pick me up. That was the beginning of my next new experience.
I've been out walking a lot, but I haven't done much of it at night, and I haven't been out dressed as a woman. This could have been my undoing. I'd barely traveled half a mile from the Mall when a car rolled up beside me and the driver asked me "How much?" I told him I wasn't a prostitute and kept walking. A mile or so down the road, another driver pulled into an adjacent parking lot and flashed his lights at me. BLINK BLINK. I started to feel like I was in a bad movie. I kept walking. That wasn't the last time. I was propositioned twice more, by one more driver and a pedestrian.
I couldn't figure why I was getting so much attention. I wasn't dressed provocatively. My makeup was understated daytime stuff. I wasn't even walking sexily or anything. Then I remembered all the casually-dressed prostitutes I've seen in my travels, all the solitary women I'd seen by the road in different places who turned out to be "working", I was afraid that I was going to attract attention from the police, and I didn't want that, either. I took the hint and got off the street.
The next block hosts a 24-hour CVS drug store. I ate up a lot of time in there, and even purchased a few items. Then I went out front to wait, and a few minutes later I was in the car rolling home. I got home with just enough time to undress, clean off my makeup and nail polish before climbing into bed for a short sleep before work again.
The weather of late has been wonky, even for Florida. We've had cold, rainy days followed by sunny and hot. Monday I ventured out in jeans and a sweater, and I was plenty warm, though I brought a denim jacket just in case. I wore a pair of boots I'd picked up for just such an occasion, Merona Kamischel Lug-Sole Boots in Grey from Target. I'd wanted to get out early, but I have motivational issues without my regular medication, and I got a late start. I didn't make it out the door until 1600.
Vicki was nice enough to drive me up to my bus stop, and from there I caught the bus into the downtown area. I then walked six blocks over to catch another bus which delivered me to the mall. I arrived there around 1715, and to my dismay, the movie I'd come to see, David Fincher's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo didn't start until 1845. I had about an hour and a half to kill, and I had a little spending money with me, so I decided to shop a bit. Tallahassee Mall has been on a downward trend for years, and there are far more empty storefronts there than open stores, but they have Burlington Coat Factory, Barnes & Noble, and a Victoria's Secret. That last store was having their Semi-Annual Sale, featuring panties for $2.99 and bras for $15.99. I bought one of each. That was one of my new experiences. I've shopped at VS before, but only bought something for one of my nieces. I seem to remember writing about a previous trip there when I lived in Virginia. I don't remember being treated very well, and I remember being put off because the salesperson wanted me to buy a poorly-fitting bra. I didn't have that experience this time. The salespeople I met were very welcoming. The other customers I interacted with were nice, also. The sale bras were "sorted" into bins by their band and cup size. I'm wearing 38D now, and the 38D bins didn't have very many 38D bras in them, or even 38s of any size. I guess a day of customers pawing through the bins would disorder them, and if they were as busy all day as they were when I shopped there, then maybe they didn't have time to re-sort them.
One thing I want to mention here, that I haven't gotten around to saying before, is that I've lost weight. At my heaviest last year, I was pushing 230. I'm down to 200. Must be work and all that walking. It's been nice, because some of my tops and such look a lot better, but it's also a bit of a pain, because my pants don't fit anymore. For the last four or five years, I've been wearing size 12-14 jeans, and now they don't fit. None of them, from any manufacturer, will stay up on my waist or hips without the addition of a belt. I've gotten out and bought a couple of new pairs in the junior size 11. They're a little snug, but they're comfortable all the same. I'm still large on top, but I've lost a couple of inches in my chest, hence the 38 bras.
After VS, I hiked to the other end of the mall to Barnes & Noble. I really didn't want to buy any books, but looking at them can eat up a lot of time, and it did. I also got hit on. There was this really persistent gentleman wandering the scifi stacks, and he really wanted to chat me up. I suppose I should be flattered, because he either didn't "read" me, or he didn't care. He said he thought I was hot, and he wanted to get to know me better, but it was getting late, and my movie was starting soon, and he made me nervous, so I apologized and told him I wasn't interested, and beat feet for the theater.
The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo was one of the best book adaptations I've seen in a long time. Fincher made a couple of changes from the novel, but I don't think they detracted from the story at all, and I think they might help if he's successful in making the rest of the Millennium trilogy. I think Noomi Rapace was the best feature of the original Swedish productions, but Rooney Mara IS Lisbeth Salander. She totally owned the character, from the "Fuck you!" street persona to the underlying vulnerability and all the nuances in between. I love the horn earrings she wore in the movie, and I was much dismayed to learn that H&M sold out of them (as well as every stitch of the clothing line).
The movie didn't let out until 2130, and that posed a problem for me getting home. The last bus toward home ran past the mall at 2145, and it took me longer than that to walk around to the front side of the mall where the bus stop is. I messaged Vicki to see if I could get a ride. She was tied up across town waiting for her husband to get off from work, so I walked up the road to the nearby Whataburger to wait. It wasn't my first choice for either food or a place to wait, but there aren't many stores or restaurants in that neighborhood that are open late, so that's where I went. I ordered a combo and sat down to eat and wait. After the meal, I got bored, and decided to start walking. I messaged Vicki to let her know I was moving on, and that I'd try to get closer to home so it'd be easier for them to pick me up. That was the beginning of my next new experience.
I've been out walking a lot, but I haven't done much of it at night, and I haven't been out dressed as a woman. This could have been my undoing. I'd barely traveled half a mile from the Mall when a car rolled up beside me and the driver asked me "How much?" I told him I wasn't a prostitute and kept walking. A mile or so down the road, another driver pulled into an adjacent parking lot and flashed his lights at me. BLINK BLINK. I started to feel like I was in a bad movie. I kept walking. That wasn't the last time. I was propositioned twice more, by one more driver and a pedestrian.
I couldn't figure why I was getting so much attention. I wasn't dressed provocatively. My makeup was understated daytime stuff. I wasn't even walking sexily or anything. Then I remembered all the casually-dressed prostitutes I've seen in my travels, all the solitary women I'd seen by the road in different places who turned out to be "working", I was afraid that I was going to attract attention from the police, and I didn't want that, either. I took the hint and got off the street.
The next block hosts a 24-hour CVS drug store. I ate up a lot of time in there, and even purchased a few items. Then I went out front to wait, and a few minutes later I was in the car rolling home. I got home with just enough time to undress, clean off my makeup and nail polish before climbing into bed for a short sleep before work again.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Good News!
It took a couple of days, but I was able to get by the hospital last week looking for help. Under the auspices of the Florida Mental Health Act, I was able to get myself a 72-hour stay in a very friendly facility. I went in as a suicidal, depressed person, but came out much feeling much healthier. I mentioned during my intake interview that I have gender identity issues, and those came to the fore during my visit to the psychiatrist and my follow-up meetings with various counselors. I told them that I'm not sure where I fit on the transgender spectrum, and they all said that I deserve to find that out, and explore my options. My visit to the psychiatrist also yielded a couple of prescriptions for antidepressants. I've only been taking them for a week, but I'm sleeping better, and I've lost a lot of the anxiety that plagued my day to day life. I have my first appointment with one of the counselors outside in August.
On an even more positive note, I finally got a job. I went to an interview on Wednesday at the local franchise of a hotel chain I've worked for before. I originally applied for a job there in March, but the position had been filled. They have a slot opening up next week, and they had retained my resume from the last time. The interview was the best of all the ones I've had, and I left feeling very good about my chances. Apparently I transposed the numbers from my phone, because they've been trying to call me since then, and the call wasn't going through. I got an email this morning, and they'd like me to start training next Tuesday.
Another positive development is that I've got a more permanent place to live, starting in a couple of weeks. My sister will be able to move into her new house after the beginning of August. The property includes a small guesthouse similar to where I moved into in December last year. That building was originally earmarked for another person, but he is no longer a part of their considerations, so it was offered to me. I'll be able to get into the house for meals and bathing, but I'll have my own place to sleep, watch TV and surf the net. Going back to work, I'll be able to fix my 360, and Xbox Live will follow soon after.
It's taken me a while, but life is slowly coming back together for me. I look to the future with a sense of hope.
On an even more positive note, I finally got a job. I went to an interview on Wednesday at the local franchise of a hotel chain I've worked for before. I originally applied for a job there in March, but the position had been filled. They have a slot opening up next week, and they had retained my resume from the last time. The interview was the best of all the ones I've had, and I left feeling very good about my chances. Apparently I transposed the numbers from my phone, because they've been trying to call me since then, and the call wasn't going through. I got an email this morning, and they'd like me to start training next Tuesday.
Another positive development is that I've got a more permanent place to live, starting in a couple of weeks. My sister will be able to move into her new house after the beginning of August. The property includes a small guesthouse similar to where I moved into in December last year. That building was originally earmarked for another person, but he is no longer a part of their considerations, so it was offered to me. I'll be able to get into the house for meals and bathing, but I'll have my own place to sleep, watch TV and surf the net. Going back to work, I'll be able to fix my 360, and Xbox Live will follow soon after.
It's taken me a while, but life is slowly coming back together for me. I look to the future with a sense of hope.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Taking a Little Vacation
The last few weeks have been rough. When I last wrote, I was preparing to move out of my sister's house. Or at least, I was preparing for my sister to move out of her house. We spent a lot of days in June breaking down the house, packing things into boxes and readying other items for sale. We started having a yard sale on the weekends, to raise money until my sister got the money she was waiting for. We sold a lot that first week: an LCD television, two bed sets, a DVD player and most of the major kitchen appliances. Yeah, they sold the refrigerator and the microwave on the first day of the sale, some three weeks before the scheduled move.
Two days after my last posts, the City of Tallahassee shut off the electricity. My sister had just acquired thousands of dollars from various relatives, but she didn't use it to pay the light bill. Those last six days and nights at the old house were hellish. We'd work from sunrise to sunset doing whatever needed to be done, then it we'd sit in the house and read by candlelight. I was already depressed, but losing electricity meant losing access to the internet, too, and my circle of friends shrunk from dozens to a mere handful. Connected to the world by the web, I have many friends, scattered across six of the seven continents. Without the web, I can count my friends on the fingers of one hand.
If you'll recall, I was waiting for an opportunity to move in with the gentleman I met through the Tallahassee Atheists group. It was a tidy little setup. He was offering me room and board in exchange for keeping up the yard around his house. Do you remember that I thought the offer was too good to be true? A couple of days into that last week, I called my friend to let him know that the move was taking longer than I'd thought. I had been told that we'd be getting a moving truck on Monday of that week. As it happened, we didn't get it until midday on Thursday. I called to make sure we were still on, and told him I wouldn't be ready to move until Friday evening, or possibly Saturday morning. All of my things were packed up, but I wasn't going to bail out on my sister until the move was done. My friend had told me previously that he might be going out of town for the Fourth of July weekend, and when we talked, he told me that he'd wait for my call Saturday morning.
As it happens, we didn't finish the move until last Saturday afternoon, after my friend told me that he'd be going out of town. I spent the weekend with my brother at the store in Havana. It's a little cramped, but I've been able to get back online, and I've kept myself busy helping out with the store's operations. On Tuesday (July 5th), I sent my friend a message on Facebook asking when would be a good time to call. I never received a response. On Wednesday I called, and the phone went to voicemail without ringing, which told me his phone was turned off. I called again Thursday and the phone rang, but went to voicemail again. I left another message indicating I was ready to move; I just needed to know when it was okay to come out to his house. I never got a callback.
Yesterday my friend sent me a message on Facebook, saying that he never heard from me, so the room is no longer available. He said he looked forward to seeing me at a future atheist function, and signed off. I was so mad I could have walked out into traffic. Obviously I didn't, but I thought about it. This brings me to my next thought, and the point of this post.
I've been depressed for a long time, but I've never sought any kind of help for it. This has been a mistake. I should have reached out for professional help last year when my thoughts turned to suicide, but I thought I could keep myself away from the brink on my own. I spent a couple of hours the other night talking with my sister and my brother. My brother has suffered from depression in one form or another since he was seventeen. It runs in my family: my grandfather suffered from post traumatic stress disorder and was an alcoholic; both of my uncles had problems with drugs and/or alcohol and one of them killed himself when I was eleven. My mom had problems of that sort later in life, but they were overshadowed by her other health difficulties. I can hardly imagine how she held it together all those years watching her children lurch from catastrophe to the next. During the course of our discussion, I mentioned my misgivings about moving in with my friend. He's a little paranoid, and has a house full of guns. That's not the sort of environment I need to move into in my current circumstances. My friend lives twelve miles outside of Tallahassee proper, and with no vehicle of my own, I'd have no way to get around on my own. so I'd be stuck out there, often all alone, with a house full of firearms and my black moods.
My sister is out of town this weekend. I've been helping my brother keep shop, but I'm biding my time till she returns. Monday or Tuesday next week, I'm going to do something about my depression and thoughts of suicide. I've got neither a job, nor insurance, nor money of my own, so I'm going to the emergency room at the hospital. My brother has done this in the past. I'll tell them what's been going on and we'll see what happens. They might admit me for a few days, so I can talk to a doctor, and undergo tests, and maybe get some medication. Because I'm essentially indigent, I'll see if I qualify for Medicaid, which is paid out of the deductions from my wages from every job I've held since the age of fifteen. I may as well get some use out of it. I might be offline for a few days after this, but I'll be sure to report my condition after I get back.
Two days after my last posts, the City of Tallahassee shut off the electricity. My sister had just acquired thousands of dollars from various relatives, but she didn't use it to pay the light bill. Those last six days and nights at the old house were hellish. We'd work from sunrise to sunset doing whatever needed to be done, then it we'd sit in the house and read by candlelight. I was already depressed, but losing electricity meant losing access to the internet, too, and my circle of friends shrunk from dozens to a mere handful. Connected to the world by the web, I have many friends, scattered across six of the seven continents. Without the web, I can count my friends on the fingers of one hand.
If you'll recall, I was waiting for an opportunity to move in with the gentleman I met through the Tallahassee Atheists group. It was a tidy little setup. He was offering me room and board in exchange for keeping up the yard around his house. Do you remember that I thought the offer was too good to be true? A couple of days into that last week, I called my friend to let him know that the move was taking longer than I'd thought. I had been told that we'd be getting a moving truck on Monday of that week. As it happened, we didn't get it until midday on Thursday. I called to make sure we were still on, and told him I wouldn't be ready to move until Friday evening, or possibly Saturday morning. All of my things were packed up, but I wasn't going to bail out on my sister until the move was done. My friend had told me previously that he might be going out of town for the Fourth of July weekend, and when we talked, he told me that he'd wait for my call Saturday morning.
As it happens, we didn't finish the move until last Saturday afternoon, after my friend told me that he'd be going out of town. I spent the weekend with my brother at the store in Havana. It's a little cramped, but I've been able to get back online, and I've kept myself busy helping out with the store's operations. On Tuesday (July 5th), I sent my friend a message on Facebook asking when would be a good time to call. I never received a response. On Wednesday I called, and the phone went to voicemail without ringing, which told me his phone was turned off. I called again Thursday and the phone rang, but went to voicemail again. I left another message indicating I was ready to move; I just needed to know when it was okay to come out to his house. I never got a callback.
Yesterday my friend sent me a message on Facebook, saying that he never heard from me, so the room is no longer available. He said he looked forward to seeing me at a future atheist function, and signed off. I was so mad I could have walked out into traffic. Obviously I didn't, but I thought about it. This brings me to my next thought, and the point of this post.
I've been depressed for a long time, but I've never sought any kind of help for it. This has been a mistake. I should have reached out for professional help last year when my thoughts turned to suicide, but I thought I could keep myself away from the brink on my own. I spent a couple of hours the other night talking with my sister and my brother. My brother has suffered from depression in one form or another since he was seventeen. It runs in my family: my grandfather suffered from post traumatic stress disorder and was an alcoholic; both of my uncles had problems with drugs and/or alcohol and one of them killed himself when I was eleven. My mom had problems of that sort later in life, but they were overshadowed by her other health difficulties. I can hardly imagine how she held it together all those years watching her children lurch from catastrophe to the next. During the course of our discussion, I mentioned my misgivings about moving in with my friend. He's a little paranoid, and has a house full of guns. That's not the sort of environment I need to move into in my current circumstances. My friend lives twelve miles outside of Tallahassee proper, and with no vehicle of my own, I'd have no way to get around on my own. so I'd be stuck out there, often all alone, with a house full of firearms and my black moods.
My sister is out of town this weekend. I've been helping my brother keep shop, but I'm biding my time till she returns. Monday or Tuesday next week, I'm going to do something about my depression and thoughts of suicide. I've got neither a job, nor insurance, nor money of my own, so I'm going to the emergency room at the hospital. My brother has done this in the past. I'll tell them what's been going on and we'll see what happens. They might admit me for a few days, so I can talk to a doctor, and undergo tests, and maybe get some medication. Because I'm essentially indigent, I'll see if I qualify for Medicaid, which is paid out of the deductions from my wages from every job I've held since the age of fifteen. I may as well get some use out of it. I might be offline for a few days after this, but I'll be sure to report my condition after I get back.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Some Developments
I thought I should provide an update, what with things moving so erratically of late.
It would appear that I did not get the job. I thought it was my best interview yet, but a week has passed, and I've received no phone calls. I really wanted to work there, too. It would have made the rest of this easy, going forward.
After weeks of being poor like me, my sister has come into some money. She's buying a car this weekend, because her truck crapped out. If I had gotten this position, she and her husband were going to help me get one as well. They still might get another vehicle, but I won't have any claim on it, unless they allow me to use it.
I think I've found a place to live, at least in the short-term. One of my friends in Tallahassee Atheists has a spare room, and he's willing to let me live there in exchange for working on his yard. He's offering room and board, and all I have to do is mow his lawn and keep up the yard. Sounds like a steal, right? His property is about three acres. I'll certainly be earning my keep if I move out there.
I made some changes over on Facebook. I changed my profile picture to one of me in my current guise, id est, I'm male. I backtracked all the trans information out of my publicly-accessible profile and hid all of my femme photos. It's both honest (who I am on the outside) and dishonest (lying to myself and everyone else). I'm just in a rough space at the moment. I'm not sure what I am anymore. I keep saying I'm going to trek down the road to the local Leon County Health Department office to see if I can get any help, but I've yet to do so. If I move in with my friend, I won't be able to do that anymore, as he lives eight miles outside of Tally proper.
Anyway, enough about the depressing stuff. I didn't notice when I changed the format, but the wallpaper image used with this template is a painting of the view out the window of some large jet. I like that. It implies movement, a feeling of going somewhere (and not in a handbasket).
In the midst of everything that's happened the last few weeks, my old friends at Bioware released a bunch of information about Mass Effect 3, set to debut next March. It's silly, but if nothing else, seeing this game trilogy to its conclusion gives me something to live for. One of the trailers is below.
It would appear that I did not get the job. I thought it was my best interview yet, but a week has passed, and I've received no phone calls. I really wanted to work there, too. It would have made the rest of this easy, going forward.
After weeks of being poor like me, my sister has come into some money. She's buying a car this weekend, because her truck crapped out. If I had gotten this position, she and her husband were going to help me get one as well. They still might get another vehicle, but I won't have any claim on it, unless they allow me to use it.
I think I've found a place to live, at least in the short-term. One of my friends in Tallahassee Atheists has a spare room, and he's willing to let me live there in exchange for working on his yard. He's offering room and board, and all I have to do is mow his lawn and keep up the yard. Sounds like a steal, right? His property is about three acres. I'll certainly be earning my keep if I move out there.
I made some changes over on Facebook. I changed my profile picture to one of me in my current guise, id est, I'm male. I backtracked all the trans information out of my publicly-accessible profile and hid all of my femme photos. It's both honest (who I am on the outside) and dishonest (lying to myself and everyone else). I'm just in a rough space at the moment. I'm not sure what I am anymore. I keep saying I'm going to trek down the road to the local Leon County Health Department office to see if I can get any help, but I've yet to do so. If I move in with my friend, I won't be able to do that anymore, as he lives eight miles outside of Tally proper.
Anyway, enough about the depressing stuff. I didn't notice when I changed the format, but the wallpaper image used with this template is a painting of the view out the window of some large jet. I like that. It implies movement, a feeling of going somewhere (and not in a handbasket).
In the midst of everything that's happened the last few weeks, my old friends at Bioware released a bunch of information about Mass Effect 3, set to debut next March. It's silly, but if nothing else, seeing this game trilogy to its conclusion gives me something to live for. One of the trailers is below.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Oh, Well...
Remember that "good position with a decent company"? I was summoned into work this afternoon for a "counseling session" wherein I was terminated. Yeah.
Back in December I made a couple of minor mistakes. I was called in for a counseling session, written up and told that the company really wanted to retain my services, so I should focus on improving my work and improving my interaction with guests and coworkers. I've worked hard, and I thought I was doing well. I haven't heard a word of negativity from anyone in the nearly six weeks since my write-up.
I was fired, but the company won't fight if I apply for unemployment. Ironically, the GM, who handled my termination, said that he'd be happy to provide me with a reference. No one who's ever fired me has given me a reference. It's a little thing, but I'll take it.
I'm in the process of updating my resume, and I've got Craigslist open in another tab. I've already seen a couple of positions that might be for me.
Back in December I made a couple of minor mistakes. I was called in for a counseling session, written up and told that the company really wanted to retain my services, so I should focus on improving my work and improving my interaction with guests and coworkers. I've worked hard, and I thought I was doing well. I haven't heard a word of negativity from anyone in the nearly six weeks since my write-up.
I was fired, but the company won't fight if I apply for unemployment. Ironically, the GM, who handled my termination, said that he'd be happy to provide me with a reference. No one who's ever fired me has given me a reference. It's a little thing, but I'll take it.
I'm in the process of updating my resume, and I've got Craigslist open in another tab. I've already seen a couple of positions that might be for me.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
That Wasn't So Hard
My last post was a lot of "Pity poor me". I'm not very good at it. I guess it was a way of psyching myself up to do what I wanted. After ten long months in drab, I'm back in my favorite form of dress. Truthfully it's not too different from the things I wear all the time. I'm wearing a sweater with a pair of jeans. Underneath I'm wearing a bra with my forms. Up top I've got a wig and full makeup on, and I've swapped out my studs for a pair of cute hoops. I snapped some photos, and the best looking of the bunch is now my profile pic.
I thought about taking a walk down to the corner store, but I looked at myself in the mirror, and I think I'll pass. I've put on a few pounds since the last time I ventured out, and I'm not sure I want to face the public in daylight in all my "glory". I tried revising my outfit, but it's a bit warmer than it was when I started today, and I don't have much that would camouflage my middle and still leave me comfortable in the outdoors. Note to self: invest in a decent waist cincher, and investigate weight loss. Either that or I start buying fat clothes. No muumuus or caftans for me, though.
Now that I think about it, I like the old profile pic better. I was a little thinner, and more at peace with myself and the world. I would change it back, but this is more honest. It's who I am at the moment, and I've got to make peace with that.
I thought about taking a walk down to the corner store, but I looked at myself in the mirror, and I think I'll pass. I've put on a few pounds since the last time I ventured out, and I'm not sure I want to face the public in daylight in all my "glory". I tried revising my outfit, but it's a bit warmer than it was when I started today, and I don't have much that would camouflage my middle and still leave me comfortable in the outdoors. Note to self: invest in a decent waist cincher, and investigate weight loss. Either that or I start buying fat clothes. No muumuus or caftans for me, though.
Now that I think about it, I like the old profile pic better. I was a little thinner, and more at peace with myself and the world. I would change it back, but this is more honest. It's who I am at the moment, and I've got to make peace with that.
Afraid to Look at Myself
I've taken up a lot of space on this blog this year writing about not dressing up, and my ongoing struggle to cope. I'd like to think of myself as a low-maintenance woman, but the reality is that getting dressed up is a big deal. I've got to shave, not just my face but any expanse of flesh that might be exposed to the world. Then comes makeup. I don't quite have to trowel it on, but covering my beard is a chore and a half. If and when I ever get rid of it for good, I'll wear the lightest possible foundation. Until that day, I'm stuck on Dermablend and Max Factor PanStick.
For the last couple of weeks I've been meaning to get dressed up for a bit. I haven't been planning to go anywhere. I just want to wear makeup, because I haven't in so long. Not only that; I'd like to update my profile pics, both here and over on Facebook. A couple of weekends ago I took part in that awareness of child abuse thing, and replaced my FB profile pic (taken two years ago) with a thumbnail shot of Calvin and Hobbes. I meant to replace it the following week with a new photo of me, but I just couldn't motivate myself to gussy myself up. I've planned to do it three or four times since - during my mornings after work, when I'm still relatively clean-shaven, or on my nights off, but the energy just hasn't been there.
Back when I still thought of myself as a crossdresser, I didn't worry too much about why, but I thought a lot about what to tell people about myself when their questions arose. And arise they did. It took me a while to compose an answer that made sense both to myself and others. "life is hard," I said. All around us are people who can't cope, so they drink, or use drugs, or engage in all sorts of self-destructive behavior. They hurt themselves, and sometimes others. If putting on makeup and women's clothing is the worst I have to do to be able to look at myself in a mirror, then is that so bad? I didn't think so. I still don't think so, but I've become afraid.
I've had the house pretty much to myself since last week. I'm waiting for the go-ahead to move into my new place, but I haven't been able to get in touch with the owners. You'd think I'd feel free in a place by myself, but I find myself falling into myself. I got used to communal living, with friends and family close at hand, and now I have long, solitary hours with no companionship save a mismatched pair of cats. Cats are cuddly, but they're poor conversationalists.
When I finally work up the nerve, who will I see in that mirror?
For the last couple of weeks I've been meaning to get dressed up for a bit. I haven't been planning to go anywhere. I just want to wear makeup, because I haven't in so long. Not only that; I'd like to update my profile pics, both here and over on Facebook. A couple of weekends ago I took part in that awareness of child abuse thing, and replaced my FB profile pic (taken two years ago) with a thumbnail shot of Calvin and Hobbes. I meant to replace it the following week with a new photo of me, but I just couldn't motivate myself to gussy myself up. I've planned to do it three or four times since - during my mornings after work, when I'm still relatively clean-shaven, or on my nights off, but the energy just hasn't been there.
Back when I still thought of myself as a crossdresser, I didn't worry too much about why, but I thought a lot about what to tell people about myself when their questions arose. And arise they did. It took me a while to compose an answer that made sense both to myself and others. "life is hard," I said. All around us are people who can't cope, so they drink, or use drugs, or engage in all sorts of self-destructive behavior. They hurt themselves, and sometimes others. If putting on makeup and women's clothing is the worst I have to do to be able to look at myself in a mirror, then is that so bad? I didn't think so. I still don't think so, but I've become afraid.
I've had the house pretty much to myself since last week. I'm waiting for the go-ahead to move into my new place, but I haven't been able to get in touch with the owners. You'd think I'd feel free in a place by myself, but I find myself falling into myself. I got used to communal living, with friends and family close at hand, and now I have long, solitary hours with no companionship save a mismatched pair of cats. Cats are cuddly, but they're poor conversationalists.
When I finally work up the nerve, who will I see in that mirror?
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
All I Want for Christmas Is... Silence!
I have blogged before, and often, about the musical selections played at my job. I love some of it, hate some more and generally am indifferent to the rest of it. That all changed last Monday. I came back from being off the Sunday after Thanksgiving to find that they'd changed the channel, so to speak. Now it's Christmas music, 24/7.
I'll not waste anyone's time rehashing my dislike for religion, as that's mostly been spared. The music mix is not too different from the usual, in that it's holiday-themed music performed by a lot of the same artists who are included in the day-to-day set. It's all Christmas music, but they've somehow avoided using any of the religious carols. So, no "O Holy Night", or "Silent Night". Nothing about angels or mangers or any of that stuff. As near as I can tell, they only play the secular songs.
That means they're playing "Jingle Bells" and "Here Comes Santa Claus" and "Blue Christmas". By limiting the pool to secular songs, that reduces the available selection, so I get to hear multiple renditions of the same songs over and over again. I've heard four or five or more versions of "Blue Christmas" (but not Elvis') and "Sleigh Ride" and "Winter Wonderland". The lone religious tune I've picked out from the rest is "Carol of the Bells", which gets a pass in my book because it's an old Ukrainian tune that predates Christianity.
It's driving me insane, one song at a time. It's not all bad. They play Band Aid's "Do They Know It's Christmas?" They even play "Welcome Christmas" (that's the "Dahoo doraze" song) from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I've heard songs by Sheryl Crow, KT Tunstall and the Dandy Warhols. Did you know that Jethro Tull recorded a Christmas album? Me neither, but their "Greensleeved" is pretty cool. Ditto for Goldfrapp's "Winter Wonderland".
They also play any song that so much as mentions the word "Christmas", whether it's really a holiday song or not. I've heard several covers of "Last Christmas" (the Wham! song). I've never thought of The Pretenders' "2000 Miles" as a holiday song, but it's in the mix. I was trying to figure out why they played Sade's "The Sweetest Taboo" until I heard the line "Every day is Christmas and every night is New Year's Eve". They've also played a few head-scratchers. I do not know what bizarre calculus inspired them to include Sting's "Love Is the Seventh Wave", but it is welcome when I hear it, a respite from the holiday monotony.
The actual holiday isn't too far off, but those nights until they turn the music back are going to be arduous.
I'll not waste anyone's time rehashing my dislike for religion, as that's mostly been spared. The music mix is not too different from the usual, in that it's holiday-themed music performed by a lot of the same artists who are included in the day-to-day set. It's all Christmas music, but they've somehow avoided using any of the religious carols. So, no "O Holy Night", or "Silent Night". Nothing about angels or mangers or any of that stuff. As near as I can tell, they only play the secular songs.
That means they're playing "Jingle Bells" and "Here Comes Santa Claus" and "Blue Christmas". By limiting the pool to secular songs, that reduces the available selection, so I get to hear multiple renditions of the same songs over and over again. I've heard four or five or more versions of "Blue Christmas" (but not Elvis') and "Sleigh Ride" and "Winter Wonderland". The lone religious tune I've picked out from the rest is "Carol of the Bells", which gets a pass in my book because it's an old Ukrainian tune that predates Christianity.
It's driving me insane, one song at a time. It's not all bad. They play Band Aid's "Do They Know It's Christmas?" They even play "Welcome Christmas" (that's the "Dahoo doraze" song) from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I've heard songs by Sheryl Crow, KT Tunstall and the Dandy Warhols. Did you know that Jethro Tull recorded a Christmas album? Me neither, but their "Greensleeved" is pretty cool. Ditto for Goldfrapp's "Winter Wonderland".
They also play any song that so much as mentions the word "Christmas", whether it's really a holiday song or not. I've heard several covers of "Last Christmas" (the Wham! song). I've never thought of The Pretenders' "2000 Miles" as a holiday song, but it's in the mix. I was trying to figure out why they played Sade's "The Sweetest Taboo" until I heard the line "Every day is Christmas and every night is New Year's Eve". They've also played a few head-scratchers. I do not know what bizarre calculus inspired them to include Sting's "Love Is the Seventh Wave", but it is welcome when I hear it, a respite from the holiday monotony.
The actual holiday isn't too far off, but those nights until they turn the music back are going to be arduous.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
An Unexpected Development
Once again, I've left this blog untended for more than a week. I've been reading and commenting on other people's blogs, but I've had trouble motivating myself to write about anything, mostly because I feel like crap.
I haven't been out of doors en femme yet. The day of the Phantogram show I slept until late into the evening. I had second thoughts, and thirds, and ended up not going at all. I did make it to the midnight showing of Let Me In. This was a good movie. As much as the original, it was not your typical vampire story, though it had a lot of the traditional elements. Chloe Moretz' performance as Abby was somehow more androgynous than Eli in the original, though the producers eschewed the shot from the original which made her ambiguity more obvious.
I did get out this week for a manicure and pedicure. Got my fingernails done in OPI's No Bees Please, which is another one of those sheer almost colors. I spent the last month with my toes bright pink, per my nieces' request, so I bounced back and got them redone in another OPI standby, I'm Not Really a Waitress, which is a dark, glossy red.
Anyway, by way of explanation, I've gotten away from the original aim of this post. I was checking myself out in the shower before work tonight, and I noticed something. My nipples and areolae are slightly bigger than I remember. How big, I can't say. I haven't been measuring them, though maybe I ought to. They're not gigantic or anything, but they don't look as manly as they used to. Don't get me wrong; I'd love to have beautiful feminine nipples (and breasts to go with them). It's just that I haven't done anything to make them this way! My friend Katherine wrote in her blog that such development is an effect of female hormones, but I'm not taking any. I swear!
I should be cool with this, but one doesn't magically grow breast tissue. Now I wonder if I should see a doctor. Help!
I haven't been out of doors en femme yet. The day of the Phantogram show I slept until late into the evening. I had second thoughts, and thirds, and ended up not going at all. I did make it to the midnight showing of Let Me In. This was a good movie. As much as the original, it was not your typical vampire story, though it had a lot of the traditional elements. Chloe Moretz' performance as Abby was somehow more androgynous than Eli in the original, though the producers eschewed the shot from the original which made her ambiguity more obvious.
I did get out this week for a manicure and pedicure. Got my fingernails done in OPI's No Bees Please, which is another one of those sheer almost colors. I spent the last month with my toes bright pink, per my nieces' request, so I bounced back and got them redone in another OPI standby, I'm Not Really a Waitress, which is a dark, glossy red.
Anyway, by way of explanation, I've gotten away from the original aim of this post. I was checking myself out in the shower before work tonight, and I noticed something. My nipples and areolae are slightly bigger than I remember. How big, I can't say. I haven't been measuring them, though maybe I ought to. They're not gigantic or anything, but they don't look as manly as they used to. Don't get me wrong; I'd love to have beautiful feminine nipples (and breasts to go with them). It's just that I haven't done anything to make them this way! My friend Katherine wrote in her blog that such development is an effect of female hormones, but I'm not taking any. I swear!
I should be cool with this, but one doesn't magically grow breast tissue. Now I wonder if I should see a doctor. Help!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
A Postcard from the Wall
I haven't been posting a lot lately, and I apologize. The truth is there hasn't been a lot to write about. I'm stuck in another of my ruts. I go to work. I come home, where I sleep, eat, read, use the internet, and play the 360. There is some variety as to what order I do those things in, but it's the same shit day in and out, and it's wearing me down again. I've been back to work about a month, and that's great, but work is only one part of what it takes to make me whole, and a lot of the rest is missing.
It's strange. On the outside, I feel fine. In fact, I feel pretty good. A couple of days ago, I stepped onto a scale for the first time in a year or more, and discovered that I'm not nearly as heavy as I thought. I'm still a little large for my size, but I'm down fifteen pounds from the last time I weighed myself, and that's no mean feat, especially for one who likes to snack as I do.
Underneath the surface, though, I'm a mass of roiling despair. You know that Nietzsche quote about gazing into the abyss? I wish I could see that. At least I'd know something was looking back at me from the black. Some days I feel as though I could end it. I've always viewed suicide as the coward's way out, and I am not a coward, but there are days when it's a chore just to get out of bed. Sometimes I just can't see the point anymore. There's just no joy in my life right now.
It's not that there's no pleasure at all. On the contrary, I've found plenty of little things to carry me along. I've been building a Youtube playlist of the songs I've heard at work. Give it a listen, and maybe you'll get a sense of the sounds of my job.
http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=29B52928D441DE51
Six weeks or so ago, both of the outside cats here went into heat, and the kittens are now in the process of being farmed out. The family are keeping a couple, and one of the little critters has glommed onto me, so maybe Spot won't be an only child anymore.
I've been reading some good books lately. The latest is horror/thriller novel entitled Feed. You can read all about it here:
http://www.thefeedbook.com/
Imagine a time in which blogs take over the news from the traditional media outlets. I won't give away the plot or premise of the book, but the gist of it is that a major, civilization-ending catastrophe arises, and the traditional news sources drop the ball, leaving internet-based media to pick up the slack and keep people informed. After a time, blogs become the news medium of choice. I'd like to write something like that, but I'm having trouble keeping this up. That brings me to a logical conclusion.
I think I'm going to step back from this blog for a while. I'm not quitting. I just need to sort some things out. I called this my "Trans Blog", but lately it's become a clearing house for whatever is on my mind, and lately that's a whole lot of nothing. I'll come back when I have a better idea of what my place is here. It might be next week, or further out, but I will return.
It's strange. On the outside, I feel fine. In fact, I feel pretty good. A couple of days ago, I stepped onto a scale for the first time in a year or more, and discovered that I'm not nearly as heavy as I thought. I'm still a little large for my size, but I'm down fifteen pounds from the last time I weighed myself, and that's no mean feat, especially for one who likes to snack as I do.
Underneath the surface, though, I'm a mass of roiling despair. You know that Nietzsche quote about gazing into the abyss? I wish I could see that. At least I'd know something was looking back at me from the black. Some days I feel as though I could end it. I've always viewed suicide as the coward's way out, and I am not a coward, but there are days when it's a chore just to get out of bed. Sometimes I just can't see the point anymore. There's just no joy in my life right now.
It's not that there's no pleasure at all. On the contrary, I've found plenty of little things to carry me along. I've been building a Youtube playlist of the songs I've heard at work. Give it a listen, and maybe you'll get a sense of the sounds of my job.
http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=29B52928D441DE51
Six weeks or so ago, both of the outside cats here went into heat, and the kittens are now in the process of being farmed out. The family are keeping a couple, and one of the little critters has glommed onto me, so maybe Spot won't be an only child anymore.
I've been reading some good books lately. The latest is horror/thriller novel entitled Feed. You can read all about it here:
http://www.thefeedbook.com/
Imagine a time in which blogs take over the news from the traditional media outlets. I won't give away the plot or premise of the book, but the gist of it is that a major, civilization-ending catastrophe arises, and the traditional news sources drop the ball, leaving internet-based media to pick up the slack and keep people informed. After a time, blogs become the news medium of choice. I'd like to write something like that, but I'm having trouble keeping this up. That brings me to a logical conclusion.
I think I'm going to step back from this blog for a while. I'm not quitting. I just need to sort some things out. I called this my "Trans Blog", but lately it's become a clearing house for whatever is on my mind, and lately that's a whole lot of nothing. I'll come back when I have a better idea of what my place is here. It might be next week, or further out, but I will return.
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