Utah Vacating Necessary

I'm off to Vegas, then San Diego for a week with a few friends in 4 hours from now! Woo beaches and sunshine and various unmentionables!

Dr. Oz

Look what aired on the Dr. Oz show yesterday:



It was a really good, positive 15 minute bit that the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation stated is, “one of the best 15-minute segments on transgender children to ever appear on national television,”

Especially the part where Dr.Oz brings up "Gender Identity Disorder", and Dr. Robert Garofalo replies, "I think there's some controversy in the community over whether to use the term disorder first of all,... many people are more comfortable with the term condition."

True 'dat!

Viddy Documentation: 14 Months

Taken with my camera phone, as a temporary measure until I replace my actual camera's cord that had been nibbled up by a foster puppy:



p.s. more fun compared to the first video I made, 14 months ago. On the right of this blog there's a little section called "Labels". Click on "Video Documentation" and scroll down to the 1st one, from January 18th.

School!

Approximately 3 years ago while pursuing my prestigious edjamacation and plucking along with a 4.0 GPA, I was slapped sideways in the face by deep economic terror. Like most students in the United States, I'd been taking out thousands of dollars in loans to gain access to school. But, once the terror of a future filled with loans consumed me alongside having an actual salary job for the first time in my life, I put 1 and 1 together and developed a fantasy route where I realistically believed that I could pay for a semester myself, out of pocket.

I thought, "I can totally do it! No loans, school goes on. Win win!"

Low and behold, fantasy clashed with reality and, no surprise, I was not able to pay for a semester by my economically naive lonesome. Who'd a thunk?

With no safety net or bail out, the college froze my records. And as I worked to save up enough to pay the debt off so I could resume my education, the debt was then sold to a collection agency who literally doubled it. Then as a delectable cherry on top started adding about $100 with every few months it hadn't been paid.

Three years later, I had pretty much resolved that my plans with school were a thing of the past. That I had, like thousands of other not flippin' rich Americans, been "weeded out" and pushed out of the rungs of higher education. Not due to being a poor student - but due to $$$.

I felt picked on and infuriated for a bit there. Peeved to all hell and back that I had been a serious, hoop-jumping 4.0 student and, just because of what was first $1000 and then double that (making it even more impossible!), an insurmountable wall had been erected, barring me from fulfilling my potential as a contributor to the community around me (not to imply that you can't fulfill your potential outside of school, or contribute - but, you get my gist).

Jerks.

But, alas, the day has finally come - approximately two hours ago. See, some time ago my kick ass brother went and landed himself a fancy schmancy job. After giving himself some time to nestle in and get cozy with it, he sprouted green wings and descended from the economic heavens to BAIL ME OUT.

An economic safety net? A 2nd chance? Wha!?

It's not even entirely real yet and I have no idea how to even thank him. First, I'd never anticipated that being economically bailed out or safety netted out of anything would be something I'd experience in my life time and second, I'm resuming school!!!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about lucky and grateful to all indescribable hell.

Thank you brother.

I'm so excited and feel so chipper and full o' future plannin' n' dreamin' that I chopped all my shaggy hair off with my Christmas clippers, dug out some dapper dan, and made myself a pomphawk thingabop. This way I can dazzle and flaunt my good mood. Taken with my creeper camera phone:

School! Smack down! Ruckus! Boo-ya! All ya'll!

The gym, zinc oxide, & THE WOLFMAN

My parents are gym-attending rock stars this week. On Monday and Tuesday they went with me at 8am, two mornings in a row. And on Tuesday morning, on our way out of the gym, my mom and dad stopped by the front counter to get a new parking sticker voucher thingamabop for their car window.

Low and behold, the manager had arrived. The poor, notorious manager who, for months now, I've been trying to get up the nerve to explain my situation to him in a nutshell, enough to basically convey the nitty gritty that I'm scaring the shit out of members in the womens locker room, I'm scared in the mens, that other androgynous members are having a very similar problem, and to ask the question, "Do you have an extra bathroom somewhere?".

I'll get there, but in the meantime I've been entering the mens locker room with my pops in the morning - but only have the nerve to travel far enough to get to the sinks and bathroom stalls. The first time I was terrified. My heart raced. The dynamic is a bit different because I've been attending this gym pre-transition, and I felt worried that a regular would recognize me and say something.

The second time? Heart didn't race, but there was a guy standing butt-naked at the sink brushing his teeth. Which, honestly, is the closest I've ever been in my entire life to seeing a butt-naked guy in person. Almost traumatizing.

Then the third time? Complete calm. No problems. And eventually, when I feel ready, I'll delve deeper. Deep enough to stuff my bag into a locker, hang my jacket up and bolt out. And after that? Maybe, just maybe, deep enough to use a little stall to change into my gym outfit. OoOOo!

Ahem, but enough of that projection-of-gym-future side tangent and back to my parents corresponding with the manager Tuesday morning. The manager said to my mom, "I haven't seen you guys in a while!", to which she replied, "I have been sick for a while now," then motioning towards me, "but he has been a pest about getting me to come back."

The manager looked clearly confused, knowing me as "she" for about two years now, but after a brief pause he replied, "Well good! I'm glad to see you guys back here!"

He handled it really well. My mom outed me to him in a way that felt much more comfortable to me - just in passing, no big deal, not an issue.

On the physical front, things are going well! I've been transitioning for 14 months now; since December 12th, 2009. My legs, thighs, and bum are smaller and more muscular than they've ever been. The rest of me is becoming harder and more muscly while my stomach remains a consistent degree of rotund and harrier than it was pre-transition. I'm feeling stable mood-wise and my skin feels significantly rougher than it ever has, especially on my face. I've developed multiple small red bumps on my upper arms, which almost look like rashes of some sort, but may just be normal or acne or, not sure what. They don't itch or bother me, so I'm not worried.

With the hormones raging and my skin texture changing so dramatically, even after using a moisturizer my skin ends up feeling dry and flaky; and I have acne in places I've never experienced it before, in ways that are nasty and brutal and angry (instead of just black heads or white heads, now they're forming into papules and postules). Primarily under my jaw line. Hawt!

So now I'm completely obsessed with figuring out what to do about this unprecedented emergence of wonderous "bacne" and "popules" and "postules" and yada yada, and stumbled across acne.org, which strikes me as probably effective and credible seeing as the feller who runs it says stuff like, "I used to recommend Olay Complete for Sensitive Skin, but Olay switched the active ingredient from zinc oxide to avobenzone in July, 2009." - did he just mention zinc oxide vs. avobenzone?

Seeing as I'm already a huge fan of old school zinc oxide, sold!

I'm going to try out the regime he has on there, see if it works. I don't see why it wouldn't. Looks plausible enough to me. Wee acne! Fun! Oh the perks of transition.

p.s. on a non-trans-related note, The Wolfman comes out this Friday! So excited! If you've ever seen An American Werewolf In London, the makeup artist from that film, Rick Baker, did the makeup for The Wolfman. I'm obsessed with the frickin' werewolves. So obsessed that my favorite blog ever is Werewolf News. Seriously. Adding Rick Baker to the mix just, ... irresistable.

Male Bonding

Classic!

Earlier today while toting along with my friend, Jay, I relayed my dire need for a scooter battery charger kit. And, conveniently, we happened upon a little scooter shop, pulled over, wandered in.

We enter and I ask the feller working at the counter, "Hey, do you guys sell scooter battery chargers?"

"Sell what now?"

"Like a charger kit. You know, for when your scooter battery gets cold."

"Oh, yeah. No, we don't. But [insert business name I've forgotten here] does. It's just up the street. You know where the strip club is?"

Did he just use the strip club as a landmark that he assumed I'd know of? Oh he did!

"Sure do."

"Yep, it's right next to that."

Boom! Was this a "male bonding" moment? According to Jay, it was. Her entire demeanor when he utilized the strip club as a landmark clearly threw her off, and has caused me a great deal of laughter and entertainment. She later relayed, "I doubt if I had gone in and asked that same question that he would have used that as a mutually acknowledged landmark."

Which is true. I do doubt that - and it's a first for me, definitely. Oh the strange and highly amusing world I'm stumbling into.

Mutual Agreement

I think that I've finally, at last, officially snapped out of my funk. For about half a year now I've let feeling overwhelmed and thoughts of hopeless consume me. Then my brain and I had a very serious discussion.

It went something like this: "You know what, noggin? I'm sorry that I've let you sink so low. I know that once you're down, it's hard to drag you back up again. How about this? If I promise to get enough sleep, to get up early, work out every morning, and eat better, will you return the favor by keeping my mood more stable and energy levels high?", to which my brain replied, "Yes, please! I'm tired of this funk! It's all over the place and, with your help, we can get this mess mopped up and move on to shinier, cleaner places! I just need you to provide the tools I need to clean it up!"

And, with that epic discussion, we came to a mutual agreement, my brain and I. Which means that I have some blogging to do!

One concern that contributed to the onslaught of funkiness had much to do with losing my insurance and feeling incredibly anxious and hopeless in regards to health care. But, you know what? Health care WILL get better. I will, eventually, have affordable access to it again. Maybe, if I'm lucky, there will be a public option. A lot of us want it and have a right to it; and the battle is being waged between basic rights and the interests of privately-owned insurance companies, which will inevitably lead to progress. It's at least a debate right now, whereas it's been essentially unquestioned publicly before.

On top of that, things are getting better for transgender people on that front, also. A friend of mine sent me this article from the National Center for Transgender Equality posted yesterday in regards to a pretty spiffy n' tremendous tranny stepping stone:

In a closely-watched case, the United States Tax Court overwhelmingly ruled on Tuesday in O'Donnabhain v. Commissioner of Internal Revenue that a transgender woman's medical expenses for hormone therapy and sex reassignment surgery were medically necessary and therefore tax-deductible under Federal law. After considering extensive medical evidence and testimony from leading medical experts, the court rejected an interpretation of the law that would consider transgender people's medical treatment different than all other medically necessary treatment recommended by major medical and psychological organizations.

Boo ya! Now THAT'S good news.

In transition land, I experienced an interesting scenario not too long ago in regards to a job application/interview process. I applied to this job without specifying my gender. The three fellers who interviewed me all read me as male. We talked tech geekiness and bonded and my charm and wit wowzed them all (naturally).

And then the interesting kicked in real fast. The three references I cited - one being an ex project manager, another being an ex-boss, and another being the director of a place I've been volunteering at for some time ended up referring to me in different pronouns (feminine and masculine). I knew that 2 of the 3 would for sure refer to me in masculine pronouns, but that the 3rd (my ex-boss) is a bit of a clueless dope and was very likely to refer to me in feminine pronouns - not out of ignorance or maliciousness, but just out of habit. Probably something like, "Oh, she was the bes--er, he, I meant-- was the best employee I've ever had!"

And, alas, I heard from my ex-project manager that when the interviewer called her he sounded enthusiastic about me, but confused about my gender. She relayed that she had referred to me in masculine pronouns, but that my ex-boss had definitely referred to me in mixed feminine/masculine pronouns. This had clearly (and understandably) confused the interviewer by the time he'd called her, but as she continued to use masculine pronouns, so did he.

I hadn't thought of the pronoun shindig really; how it would manifest in a reference-process. I'm sure that they also contacted other ex-bosses from my resume from past work experience that have no idea I've transitioned or prefer masculine pronouns now.

Yet, despite the confusion and possible awareness that I'm trans, they contacted me, referred to me in masculine pronouns, and offered me the job.

I declined because they switched locations on me to somewhere out in the middle of nowhere that wouldn't work for me. Yet, it was a really relieving experience to have these guys who trans people are likely very foreign and mysterious to offer me a job. In Utah, of all places. It was a campus, which ups the liberalism quite a bit, but still refreshing.