That Was the Year I Knew the Panic Was Over

With apologies to Ellie Goulding.

2012 was a year in which I learned, yet again, that anything could happen.  I lost my Dad in April.  I lost my job in December.  Sometime in the middle I learned to overcome my fear of the future.  It's not that I'm no longer afraid. It's just that that fear is overwhelmed by my terror of what will become of me if I keep putting things off.

Affirmation

Last Saturday, I was invited to a party held by my friends Troy and River.  They called it the "Post-Mayan Apocalypse Zombie Solstice Party".  What a name, eh?  I attended the party they held last year in my male guise.  As I have been trying to get out more in my femme persona, that's how I went this time around.

I wore a "Christmas" sweater which has languished in my closet since last year.  It's teal and it glitters.  I wore the sweater over a pair of purple skinny jeans, with my grey boots.  I've got one decent picture of myself from that night:

I did my nails specially for the night: one coat of Spoiled "I Don't Drink Cheap Wine" (sort of magenta) and a second coat of Spoiled "Ants in My Pants" (clear red with glitter).  I was pleased with the effect.

Where they live is not far off one of the major bus routes, so I knew I could get there using public transportation.  Halfway to my transfer point, the bus broke down.  A nice gentleman from Star Metro came out and picked me up along with another passenger in a van, and promised to deliver us to our destinations.  Through the whole experience, the transit guy spoke of me as "that woman, her and she" and addressed me as "Ma'am".  Not all of my encounters with government employees have been so polite, or so positive.  Can
I borrow a phrase from my British friends and say that I was chuffed, or is that too masculine?

The party was great.  Troy and River have lots of friends, and there was a lot of food and drink, and a bonfire and...  Yeah, it was great. I had a wonderful conversation with a woman there whose child is Ftm.  I got a few compliments on my outfit.  The food was incredible.  A good time was had by all.

Yesterday was my third therapy session.  By mutual agreement with her, I attended en femme.  It was COLD yesterday, so I dressed simply in a blue sweater, skinny jeans (not the purple ones) and my boots.  At the start of our session, she told me that I seemed the most like myself of all the times I had come to see her.  Our discussion was wide-ranging, covering many topics, and not just those related to being trans.  I did speak a bit about that, though.  We talked about music, and dancing.  She gave me a "homework" assignment: I am to dance for at least fifteen minutes every day.  Would that all of my past homework assignments were so easy.

On Transfolk

Here's a link to a thoughtful, well-written piece from a writer I very much admire.  Please give it a read:

On Transfolk

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.

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.

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.

Something I'm Not Gonna Talk About

The internet in all its myriad forms has been up in arms these last few weeks regarding a statement made by the president of a fast food chain.  The kerfuffle has spilled over into the physical world, with talk of boycotts, protests and counter-protests.  I'm not going to say anything about it, other than to share this rather well-written piece by another blogger.

The Chicken Fellatio

Please don't let the title put you off.  If it grabs your attention, then the work is done.  The author puts everything into glaring clarity, far better than I could ever have expressed.