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.

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?

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.

I'm a Photo Nerd Again!

That's got to sound a little weird, I admit, but I know of no other way to express the way I feel right now.

Last December, my little Olympus camera died, and with everything that came after, I never got around to getting it fixed or replaced.  You can argue my skill as a photographer, but I love to take pictures, and it's another form of expression that helps keep me grounded.

2011 was a rough year, and my opportunities for photography have been few, but that's in the past.  My Dad was generous enough to send me WalMart gift card for Xmas, and I used it and some of my own money to buy a new camera.  I got a Fujifim FinePix T190.  Real photographers will no doubt scoff at my toy.  I, on the other hand am very happy.  Thanks, Dad.

Happy Halloween!

Two years ago I went out dressed for Halloween in an actual costume.  I was hoping to get back out again this year, but work intervened.  I was planning to resurrect the witch idea, with a new corset top, pointy shoes and some spiderweb tights I picked out, but it wasn't to be.  I got another idea for a costume I could have worn to work, but they don't do that around here, so I came to work in the costume I wear every other day.  It's especially grating because my family are hosting a themed party at home.  All the kids are dressing up, and the adults too, I think.  Dinner is potluck, but my sister was making up deviled eggs when I left this afternoon.  I do hope they save me some.

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.

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.

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.

20/20 Hindsight

I lost my job in February, and I didn't understand why.  I now think that I know, and the knowledge is eating me up inside.

A brief timeline of events:

August 2009 - Written up at work for wearing earrings and nail polish.

April 2010 - Started at BLANK.  Quickly scanned through the employee handbook, found no prohibition against males wearing earrings, and the only reference to nail polish says it must be neat and in neutral colors.

May 2010 - One evening I came into work wearing a pair of small studs.  The front office manager said they were okay.  A couple of weeks later, the Leon County Commission votes to add sexual preference, gender identity and expression to the classes protected by the County's civil rights ordinance.  The ordinance specifically prohibits discrimination in employment and all forms of accommodation (housing, hotels, restaurants, etc).

December 2010 - I was written up for a couple of errors I made.  Around the same time I got my acrylic nails and French manicure.  I had to endure a little good-natured ribbing, but no one complained about my appearance (at least that I know of).

February 2011 - I was fired, allegedly in response to some other error I had made.  I didn't understand what they told me.  I told them that if I had made a mistake, I should be allowed to try to fix it.,  As a consolation, the manager tells me that I've done good work there, and offers to provide me with a reference if I need one.

I talked to my father on Sunday.  I called to wish him a Happy Father's Day.  It was the first time we really talked in almost a year.  He told me that he accepts my crossdressing, but wonders if that somehow influenced the way I was fired.  I told him that was impossible.  I haven't been out anywhere en femme since I came to Tallahassee.  "What about your nails?" he asked.  I didn't think that had been an issue, but it could have been.  The company I used to work with is very sensitive to guest commentary.  What if someone noticed my manicure and said something about it?  If someone chose to make an issue of my appearance, that could have trumped all other considerations, and the anti-discrimination policy be damned.

Sadly, all this feels correct.  I don't know what this means.  I don't think there's any legal recourse.  Florida is an at-will employment state.  Employment can be ended by either the employee or employer at any time with no explanation.  Once again, it's nice to know where one stands.

Developing Stories

Apart from the aside about embracing advertising, my last post was full of doom and gloom.  I haven't solved all of my problems yet, but there has been some progress.

Friday my sister and her husband signed an intent to purchase agreement for a new house (new to them, anyway).  It's a big place on a couple of acres, with a pool and some of the trimmings, but it won't be ready for them to move into until August, probably.  They won't have to leave their current place until the first of July, almost two weeks from now.  The new place doesn't really have room for me, so I'm still hunting.  I'm going to the atheist meeting tomorrow, to see the only other people I know in Tallahassee.  Hopefully someone will have a lead for me.  Sara, I've tried to contact the Big Bend Homeless Coalition.  I called every few minutes for hours one day, and only ever got the admin assistant's voice mail.  As Malcolm Reynolds once put it, "I ain't waiting for help from on high.  That's a long wait for a train don't come."  I'll get through this one way or another.

On a positive note, I had another interview Friday afternoon.  I feel the best about this interview of any of them.  If I get it, I'll be going back on the night shift and working Sunday to Thursday.  I'll have weekends free for stuff again.  I really hope to hear from these people again next week.

Where I Stand

No more hemming and hawing.  No dissembling allowed here.

Once again I find myself in a hole that I do not know how to dig my way out of.  In short: I need help.  I am unsure how to get the help I need, and am even less certain of whom to ask or how to ask them.

As I have previously stated, I have been out of work since February.  I have filled out numerous applications, e-mailed resumes and made phone calls.  After four months, I still have nothing to show for my efforts.

I was kicked out of the guest house I had been renting in March.  Since that time I've been sleeping on a mattress at my sister's house.  It's not been a perfect solution, but I've had a roof over my head, food to eat and net access.  This situation is, alas, coming to an end.

My sister and her husband have been renting a double-wide trailer since December.  It's cramped and nothing works like it should.  After months of disputes with their landlord, they have elected to move out, but they have yet to secure another permanent place to live.  They've been hashing out alternatives including hotel rooms and campgrounds.  None of these is exactly cheap, but it's better than nothing.  The problem for me, in this situation, is that prices for these places go up incrementally in relation to how many people are staying in them.  My sister has eight children and a manny, plus two dogs and five inside/outside cats.  That doesn't leave a lot of leeway for me.  In another seven days or so, I won't have a place to live.

This is quickly becoming the story of my life: I live for a time in a place until circumstances make it impossible to live there anymore, and I end up having to move away and start all over again someplace new.  That's what happened in 2007, when I moved back to Virginia from Charlotte, North Carolina.  January 2010 found me reluctantly moving to from Portsmouth, Virginia to Tallahassee, Florida.  I've considered moving again, either back to Virginia or to Charlotte.  I have pleasant memories and a few friends left in each location.  This should be easy, right?

Sometime before I came to Florida, my father had told me I could live with him and his new wife.  That was before he permanently moved in with her in Elizabeth City, North Carolina.  Since they've been married, my father has grown somewhat distant.  I haven't talked to him since last spring, and any contact we've had has been initiated by me.  Sometime between then and now, Dad dropped off of my Facebook friend list.  I tried to call him yesterday just to talk.  I wasn't going to ask for money or anything stupid like that; I just wanted advice from my father.  No one answered the phone, and no one has returned my call.  Dad hasn't been the same since Mom died, but I'd hate to think that he doesn't want to associate with me anymore.

Because I've been out of work so long, I've got no money.  I also have no transportation.  I've been told that if I can secure a place in either location, or indeed anywhere, that I will be able to get a ride to wherever I'm going.  That is cool, but it's not much of a plan.  I am tired of being rudderless.  I just don't know what to do.  Does anyone have an idea?  A word of friendly advice?  Please let me know.

Reblogging: An Atheist on Easter

An Atheist on Easter

Today was Easter.  As mentioned before, I'm an atheist, so I always find religious holidays a little awkward to experience.  I read the piece noted above early in the morning, and posted a comment on the blog asking permission to post it here.  I didn't intend any sort of plagiarism; I just found the piece to be a well-worded expression of my (similar) thoughts on the subject.  Not only did the author not respond to my request, he didn't allow the comment to be posted.  A politely-worded "No" would have sufficed.

I've posted the link.  It's good stuff, and it bears reading if anyone wants a peek inside my head.

This morning the family went to church for Easter service.  After they returned, the lot of us went with some friends to Wakulla Springs State Park for one of my nephews' birthday party.  In a repeat of last year's trip to the beach, I did not swim, though I did wade in the spring for a bit, and collected tiny shells on the white sand shore.  There's a Mediterranean Revival-style lodge and museum adjacent to the water, and I got to look at the preserved remains of "Old Joe", an 11.2-foot alligator that lived in the area until it was shot in 1966.  Joe was said to be one hundred years old.  I've seen gators in zoos, but none were as large as this thing.  I sure wouldn't want to meet one that size out in the wild.

Writing for My Sanity

Almost a month ago, I moved back in with my sister and her family.  I am ever grateful.  They've kept a roof over my head, food in my belly and my computer connected to the web.  I can't ask for more than that.  I really wish, though, that I was back in my own place.  I miss the privacy.  I'd also forgotten how stressful living with three other adults, eight children and assorted pets could be.

In the last couple of days, another conflict has erupted between my sister, her husband and his ex-wife, over their children.  I feel as though I'm head-down in a bunker, with artillery screaming over my head from every direction, and it's escalating by the day.  I started out this post by detailing the whole nasty situation in detail, omitting only the names, but then I decided that would be over-sharing.  I wrote a great portion of it out, just to clear my head, then I deleted the post and started over.  Writing can be cathartic, I see.

The World Turned Upside Down

So I haven't been able to get online from home since late Thursday night, and to add insult to injury, the cable was out most of the night and following day.  So I didn't know that Keith Olbermann is out at MSNBC until I came into work last night.  MSNBC came in clear for about ten seconds during Countdown, then the screen reverted to black.

I don't really watch much television anymore, and I suppose that frees up five hours to do something else, or discover another program.  I read that they're going to shuffle their evening lineup around to fill the gap, starting with moving Lawrence O'Donnell's program into Keith's slot.  Can they still call it The Last Word if it appears closer to the middle of the evening?  I'll still tune in to watch Rachel Maddow, but she's the only one who's not on during my normal sleeping hours.  Don't get me wrong.  I like MSNBC's other personalities, but I don't see myself rolling out of bed early to watch Chris Matthews or Cenk Uygur.  No offense, guys!

Mom was the one who turned me on to the show.  We used to laugh together over the phone during his Worst Person segments.  Watching the show the last few years has helped me retain a little sanity by continuing something I started with her.  Now that's gone.  Thanks, Comcast!

Holiday Greetings from Jabba the Hutt

This is actually a couple of weeks old, and it's now the day after Christmas, but I posted the Muppet version of "Carol of the Bells" last year, and I didn't think I should go another year without something holiday-themed, so I present this little gem, courtesy of Paul and Storm:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWqthNlzoEI

On a related note, I met my niece's boyfriend's nephew yesterday. He's a little 7 month-old boy named "Jaxom", who was named for the character from Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series. His mother was so impressed that I knew who she named her son after. I told her I was well-versed in the "classics".

After Another Long Hiatus

I have returned. I've been logging in periodically to read and comment on others' blogs, but I haven't felt much like posting. I've done some comment moderation. I wish I could say I was surprised, but the only commenters these last three weeks or so have been spammers planting links to their Chinese-language chat/porn sites.

The last weeks have been eventful, and yet not. I called Dad on Father's Day and found him in the hospital, down with a bout of near-fatal septicemia. That's when an infection gets into your bloodstream, and in his case it had gotten to both his heart and brain. While recovering from that, he had both a heart attack and a stroke. His life is no longer in imminent danger, but his health problems brought to the surface the long-seething conflict between my brother and my stepmother. Thermonuclear war would be less destructive. I wish there could be peace between them, but I don't think it's going to happen.

Back in May I wrote a little about suicide. I am sorry to report that my consideration of that has continued. Some days it's just not worth getting out of bed. I broke down and called a good friend, and she told me that suicide ideation can lead to actual suicide. She went on to suggest that I call a suicide hotline, if for no other reason than to find a counselor to speak to. The young woman who answered the phone talked to me for a bit, though she seemed a little out of her depth. She did give me the number of a counselor who billed on a sliding scale. That, I am sorry to say was less than productive. She started off by asking me about my religious affiliation, if I was "right with Jesus". I told her I was an atheist, and the discussion went downhill from there. I thanked her for her time and hung up. Then I called my friend back. Friends who love are always better than any quack sitting in an office.

On that note, I re-connected with one of my oldest friends via Facebook last weekend. She's the only friend from my teenage years that I didn't go to school with. We were also an on-again, off-again romantic thing, the closest thing in my life to "friends with benefits". I can say without equivocation that the best sex I ever had was with her. We hadn't talked on the phone in almost seven years, and I haven't seen her in more than ten, but talking to her, it was almost as though no time had passed. Naturally, she's in a relationship, and I won't interfere with that. What does it say about me that I would if she wanted me to?

Work is both stressful and sustaining. I'm finally getting forty-hour weeks, but it's meant taking on a 1500-2300 shift, and I always get that on the heels of working 2300-0700. I've always preferred double shifts to working back-t0-back, but the extra money is nice. I've been able to do a little shopping, which has helped me feel more like myself. I bought myself a couple of sleepshirts (one has the art from U2's War on the front) and got a manicure and pedicure last week. The new color is Nicole by OPI's Jade in the Shade, if anyone cares.

On top of all the other stressful events, Spot died last week. I don't know what got him, but he hadn't been "right" since the middle of June. We had to put all the animals outside one morning while we flea-bombed the house, and Spot did his best to try to get away and walkabout. A couple of days later he got out of the house somehow, and didn't turn up until early evening. He didn't have any visible wounds, and I gave him a bath just in case. His behavior changed. He wouldn't hang out in my bedroom much, and took to hiding in cabinets or up on shelves. Last Sunday I realized that I'd gone all day and hadn't seen him. I found him on top of the dresser in one of my nieces' bedrooms. I gave him food and water, and after a time he moved into the bathroom and laid on the tiles. He got up occasionally to shift position, but he didn't leave the bathroom at all. He was lying there peacefully when I left for work Monday night, and I found him in the same place Tuesday morning when I returned. His breathing was rapid and shallow. I spent some time cuddling with him, then laid down for a nap. I woke in the afternoon to find he was gone. We buried him deep in a hole in the backyard. I loved that cat with every fiber of my being, and I like to believe he loved me back. He will be missed.

That said, I got my pick of the kittens remaining from Twilight and Freckles' litters, and I chose the one that seemed to like me best. He's sleeping in the space between the keyboard and monitor as I type this. I haven't settled on a name for him yet. I might ask for some help here before too long.

Anyway, I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm still kicking down here.

Movin' On Up

I am gradually settling back into my working groove. I was hired as a night auditor, but my training schedule has been a little wonky. The first day was all computer training, and I worked from 1600 to 2100. The next day was orientation followed by some actual work, and that day I worked from 1400 to 2130. The next night was a weird one, 2000-0400, so I worked part of the evening shift and about half of the audit. Then I was off last night and tonight. Tomorrow I go back to that weird shift, followed by two all-audit 2300-0700 shifts.

All of this means that I've had to shift my sleeping habits again. My Circadian rhythms are all out of whack, and I've been trying to get around without disrupting the rest of the household. To that end, I was encouraged to switch sleeping quarters with my 11 year-old niece. After months of communal sleeping, I get a bedroom to myself. If I'm home from work, I can now sit up all hours and type on the computer, or play Xbox into the wee hours without disturbing anyone.

Another development of note is that we may have found a two-bedroom house to live in, and the rent's only $500/month. For a house! Sweet!

Back to the Old Grind

Once again, I didn't mean to go almost a week without posting, but that's life, isn't it?

Nate's emergency of Saturday night turned out to not be a heart attack. It was a severe case of angina. The doctor at TMH prescribed a couple of medications, a diet of 1800 calories per day, and told him to stop smoking. The meds are doing their thing, the diet is going well so far, and that's about it. Nate has cut down on the smoking, but he's a ways to go before he can quit. The nicotine gene runs in our family. Both our parents smoked, and both sets of grandparents, and numerous relations as well. I'm the only non-smoker in the family.

I mentioned before that I had an interview scheduled for Monday. That went very well. There was a follow-up telephone interview on Wednesday with the corporate Director of Hotel Operations, and then I had to wait another day for my background check to come back. Today I underwent Orientation, which consisted of watching a droll video, then signing about a hundred different sheets of paper. Last I was entered into the time clock system. That was new. Every place I've worked before used either paper or plastic cards. This place uses a state-of-the-art biometric system. You key in the last four digits of your SSN, then place your hand in the reader. I felt like I was entering a secret base or something. What's next, retinal scanning? Anyway, I start training for the new job next Monday.

A number of people have told me that they hope my new employer will be more accommodating toward my gender identity issues; I too share this hope, but it remains to be seen. I watched the video today and paid special attention to the company's equal employment opportunity and non-discrimination policies. There was no wording which I could construe as implying any protection for people like me. I've got my fingers crossed that the job protection legislation makes it through the Tallahassee city council next month. After that, we'll see.

Warning Shot

We had a bit of a scare last night. It was a little before 2000, and we were all sitting down to a late supper when my brother collapsed. The EMTs arrived in about fifteen minutes, with an ambulance about ten minutes behind them, ending with a trip to Tallahassee Memorial Hospital. They've kept him overnight so they could run some additional tests, but the preliminary diagnosis was that Nate had a "mild" heart attack. I'll try to keep everyone apprised of things as I become aware.

Looking Up, Looking Back

The last week has been a little more exciting than a lot of those preceding. Sunday we went to Carrabelle Beach. I presented male, and wore swim trunks and a baggy tee shirt. I got waist-deep in the ocean and decided I'd had enough. I then spent the rest of the afternoon reading and taking pictures.

Monday I went out and put in some more job applications. I also received a call about an interview at a hotel where I applied more than a month ago.

Tuesday I went to the interview. It went great for the first twenty minutes or so. As long as we chatted about my experience and some of the skills I have, I was fine. Then the GM asked me about a specific situation, and I imploded. I could not recall in any detail a single incident that could illustrate my skills. He then asked me for a different example, and I couldn't remember a damned thing! I could (and do) remember a whole slew of negative experiences, but the memories of all the people I've helped and taken care of evaporated. The rest of the interview was perfunctory stuff. He told me about the company, and their benefits, and whatnot, and said they'd make a decision by Friday. Needless to say, I did not hear from them yesterday.

Wednesday and Thursday were mostly idle days, with my usual patterns of sleep, internet and Xbox broken only by running some errands with Nate.

I did get a phone call Friday afternoon, but not from the people I saw on Tuesday. It was another interview request, this time for next Monday. It's from a chain I have worked with before, but don't list on my resume. It was not a happy experience. That was seven years ago, though. I'm willing to let bygones be, in the service of finding myself gainfully employed again. This idleness is killing me.

Somewhere in the middle I saw my new trans "friend" again. She creeps me out, and illustrates all the reasons why they have steps a person is supposed to follow, and why. I mentioned before that she's taking hormones without regular supervision from a doctor. She told me that when I'm ready to start my own therapy, to let her know, and she'll hook me up with a doctor who will provide me, up front, with a year's prescription for maximum-dose hormones. This doctor is reportedly located in the nearby (and aptly named) town of Panacea. Talking to the lady makes my skin crawl. I don't like to take strong pain meds without they say-so of a doctor; why would I risk any sort of damage by fooling around with estrogen?

A positive outcome of that encounter was that I had the longest talk ever with Nate about being trans. He still can't quite get his head around it, but I think he was reassured that we feel the same way about this other person.