Wednesday, September 3, 2014

She Returns

Gee, that was a long time coming, wasn't it?

I managed to survive from February to July at the Good Samaritan House at Westgate. This is a Christian-run facility for homeless men. Yep, I put away my feminine things for a time and went undercover, as it were, into an all-male community. That was the longest five months of my life.

Early in April, I started working as a helper for my friend Rob Mulcahey at his business, R & S Floors. That has been an adventure, and not always the fun and exciting kind. It has brought me money, which has allowed me to move into a new place. Back before this situation arose, my therapist told me of Apalachee Center's Satellite Apartments. The rent is cheap, but one needs a source of income, which I didn't have at the time. As of the middle of July, this is no longer the case, and I happily reside there.

Because I work Monday to Friday, I spend most of those days in dude mode, but I have my weekends free to be myself. Those two days a week en femme are liberating, to say the least. I'd love to discuss all this with my therapist, but she has been on indefinite leave since just before I moved. I don't know when she'll return, and this has begun to worry me. It's been a little more than three years since my depression landed me in the hospital, and after all this time I am no closer to my goal (transition) than I was then. The situation has to move forward, or I'm going to have to find another place to support me.

Anyway, I'll post more (and in more detail soon).

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Another Year

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.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Six Months

Today marks six months (to the day) since I lost my last job.  I've had three interviews in as many weeks, but none of them have amounted to anything.  One of the jobs did lead to a job offer, but then I didn't pass their background check.  Apparently credit checks are now employers' great equalizer.  Never mind that poor pay and unemployment contribute to people getting behind on their bills.  Bad credit means one is not trustworthy, so these checks are used to deny employment.  Big, theatrical SIGH.

It's also been almost three months since the last time I got out of doors en femme.  My therapist has been waiting for me to come back to her dressed, but the opportunity hasn't really presented itself.  Next week I might make the effort, if only to see if my makeup can withstand the wicked humidity we get here.  I wasn't sure I could last this long, but my ongoing unemployment has altered the limits of everything I feel that I might have to endure.

Not all my news is bad.  I was at Apalachee Center a couple of weeks back getting a scrip refilled, and I stepped onto a scale in the nurse's office.  I'm down to 185 pounds.  That's the lightest I have been since high school.  I'm still a tetch over what I should be according to the Body Mass Index, but if I can keep the rest off, a tetch is acceptable.

Thursday, May 9, 2013

The Search Continues

After last week's upset, I thought I might stumble in my job search.  Not to worry.  I've filled out at least one application nearly every day since then, and I had an interview this morning, with another lined up (with a different employer) tomorrow morning.  I'm going to beat this.  As with everything else, there is no way but forward.


That was scary.  I accidentally attempted to log into Blogger using my other Gmail, the one that doesn't have anything attached.  For a moment I thought someone had hijacked my account and deleted everything.  We now return you to your regularly unscheduled blog, already in progress.

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.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Or Maybe Not

Last week, I went for an interview at the place that I thought had hired me.  They told me to come back Monday morning for a second interview.  I went there prepared to interview, along with another candidate.  Instead of an interview, I found myself (and the other fellow) filling out a slough of new-hire paperwork.  WTF?  I've been out of work since December, so I didn't let it faze me.  After a brief run-through of the documents, they told me to come back Tuesday and begin training.

Tuesday morning I went in prepared to train, only to be told that they weren't quite ready, and "Could I please come back at 1700?".  I went back to my sister's store and chilled out for a few hours.  I went back to the job site in the afternoon, only to be told that I can't begin my training until my background check comes back.  One of the trainers made me a milkshake, so it wasn't a totally wasted trip.  They told me to come back on the morrow, at the same time.

Wednesday I trundled out there only to discover that I still couldn't train, because the background check hadn't come back.  Worse still, no background check was submitted because that form was missing from my new-hire packet.  I filled out the missing form, and now I'm waiting.  My background is clean, so I'm not worried about anything, but it's frustrating to have been so close to work again, only to be forced to wait.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate waiting?