Rambling Faggy Tranny,
Living in Utah.


My name is Dexter and I was assigned the gender "female" at birth. Since December of 2008, there's been a whole lotta social and physical transition going on up in here. Why? To help my brain and body physiologically connect. Even though my gender identity (genderqueer) hasn't changed, after a series of social pickles (like being unable to use my debit card!), I am now dude. who'dathunk.

I'm currently a college student and a McNair Scholar majoring in Neuro/Social Psychology. I intend to nab me a PhD!

Kiddle Era:

Can you count, suckers? I say, the future is ours... if you can count!

Recent Comments

 

Martin Luther King Jr. Day

You can’t talk about solving the economic problem of the Negro without talking about billions of dollars. You can’t talk about ending the slums without first saying profit must be taken out of slums… Now this means that we are treading in difficult water, because it really means that we are saying that something is wrong…with capitalism… There must be a better distribution of wealth and maybe America must move toward a Democratic Socialism.

— Martin Luther King, Jr., 1966

Started this yesterday and I can’t wait for her to be finished. Then we can, at long last, grow old together. *swoon*

Started this yesterday and I can’t wait for her to be finished. Then we can, at long last, grow old together. *swoon*

Gobama!

The Internal Revenue Service (IRS) has affirmed that transgender people can deduct their hormone therapy and sex reassignment surgery expenses.

Trans Guys Disclose

There are some things about ourselves we don’t immediately reveal to other people. Meet Billy, Danny and Atari - three guys who you may be surprised to find out were born biologically female. Story produced by Monique Schafter and Ali Russell for Hungry Beast.

(Source: oscar-a-non-y-mous)

Before every new semester I get a pit in my stomach

… trying to figure out how I can pay for the required texts. Even with the privilege of not worrying about food or shelter, living with my parents, it is still a daunting challenge. Most semesters I’ve been able to find ways to work it out and some semesters I couldn’t. The semesters where I literally couldn’t afford my books made it very difficult to keep up and do well in class.

I use a variety of strategies to figure out this book shindig, including checking out older editions from a the library, renting, finding used books or even online versions of old, outdated editions. This semester I’ve dug and clawed and whimpered and journeyed far to find any way I could possibly get out of spending at least $600. And alas - it ain’t happin’n.

Situations like this really make it difficult to ignore how I feel about the way academia operates in the United States. Students work harder and take on more debt to get degrees whose value is open to question. Meanwhile, colleges are the pawns of corporate interests who price gouge a captive student body. You are “free”. Free to buy this text, at this price, with this online code which expires after this semester. The same information is, of course, readily available from hundreds or thousands of inexpensive sources. But, for some reason your class must use this incredibly expensive source with all lower cost options made as inaccessible as possible. Really? Seriously?

In other industrialised countries, they have awesome student unions and progressive governments who consider higher education a universal right. It is not a privilege reserved only for those who can afford it. In the U.S. the cost of college rises at an annual rate 2.3% faster than the rate of inflation (DSA). Whoa.

The whole thing feels like a game of Wipe Out. It all begins with a whole bundle of enthusiastic, bright eyed and bushy tailed contestants (i.e. freshman who are all excited about learning). Round after round contestants are weeded out. Inevitably, every one gets whacked with massive rubber balls or have to swim through mud. They myth is that only the “best and brightest” make through it to the end. But, even the cream of the crop end up like veterans of a brutal war left paralysed with injuries and PTSD. Left behind are the majority, the “failures,” left with damaged self-esteem and bitter resentment towards education.

The result is a population where the majority seriously believe the Earth was created in a puff of magic and is only a few thousand years old.

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When I lay there in my pantaloons

… pondering deeply about such things like what position I’d prefer to be in if I ended up in The Human Centipede, when I will go buy more wet food for Evilbunny (my cat) and a bleach pen for the white Hanes© shirts I wear every day, getting mula for school books, and whatnot - eventually the realisation of how seriously lucky I am in the tranny department comes creeping in.

Prior to starting hormone therapy a few years ago, I had literally resolved to stop dating. Zilch, done, ~fin~. It was just, too painful and triggering. Every attempt was an incredibly potent reminder of how I was trapped in a body that felt disconnected and uncomfortable. It wasn’t worth crying every single time and spiralling into weeks of hopelessness. Without intimacy, I could bind and never look at myself in the nude. Easy peasy. Solution foreva!

But, the idea of hormones sounded almost as awful. Losing my androgyny and looking like a boring ol’ greasy cisgender dude? Eff no. Heading down a path that insurance companies and numerous doctors explicitly exclude? Uh, no. Increasing my testosterone levels that are associated with shaving years off one’s life, increasing cancer risk, liver damage, increased cholesterol, acne, etc.? No, no, and no.

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Alright, so it’s unlike me to post two mega vain photo shindigs back-to-back like this, but here’s the deal. I absolutely had to share the stubble & ‘stache action occurring on my face at the moment. Look, for pete’s hairy sake! Seriously. I generally try to hide my newfound transtastic vanity under the guise of “photo documentation” - which, initially, it was. But now it’s just vanity. The end. Whatdoyado. I’ll actually write something tomorrow. Promise.

Alright, so it’s unlike me to post two mega vain photo shindigs back-to-back like this, but here’s the deal. I absolutely had to share the stubble & ‘stache action occurring on my face at the moment. Look, for pete’s hairy sake! Seriously. I generally try to hide my newfound transtastic vanity under the guise of “photo documentation” - which, initially, it was. But now it’s just vanity. The end. Whatdoyado. I’ll actually write something tomorrow. Promise.

My mom says that my hair looks “painted on”. If THIS looks painted on, then so does the cotton on the tip of a Q-Tip©! Rude.

infandomwetrust asked
Question for you. Werewolves vs. T-Rex. Who would win? BTW, looking good! :) Happy the top surgery went awesome and it looks good!

In response to your mature and trans-relevant question: werewolves, DUH. I mean, if apes could defeat dinosaurs in Dinosaurs vs. Apes, then werewolves would defeat a T-Rex no problem, paws down!

Now that this important issue is settled, thank you. ;) I freaking LOVE the results and intend to run around topless an awful, ridiculous amount all summer long. Poor world will just.have.to.deal.with.it.

Led by the child who simply knew

The twin boys were identical in every way but one. Wyatt was a girl to the core, and now lives as one.