I'm not sure I should be writing in here anymore. I don't have much to say about the journey of trans people these days since I'm derailed. Still, I kind of need to vent emotions I'm feeling and there are some I don't have any other outlet for other than this blog.
I had this friend. She lives really far away from me and our relationship was really complicated. I was never sure how she really felt about me but, over time, my feelings grew and deepened for her. She felt like the first person in my whole life who really understood me, who might love me for who I was.
She was sick, though. I mentioned her in a video once. I'd said, if given the choice, I would sooner save her than save the rest of the world in its entirety. Some of you thought that sounded sweet or nice but, in reality, I said it because much of her illness is my fault. She was sick all along but something else happened; something between us and, as a result, she got much sicker.
I couldn't deal with it so I stopped writing for a while. Nearly seven hundred miles of distance made it easy to avoid her but impossible to escape the guilt. For three months I agonized over the mistakes I'd made.
I reached out eventually but it was too late, I guess. She was so angry with me. I tried to understand. She told me she would write emails explaining everything I'd missed, telling me just how guilty I was and how deep her hatred extended. I wanted to get them. I was ready to be punished for the mistakes I'd made. I just wanted things to get better between us. Despite all my best efforts I loved her even though I'd only met her twice.
I wonder if you're reading this. I feel so ridiculous and small. Your livejournal is updated and you talk about this other girl. I guess you finally found someone you could love. You probably hate me now more than ever. If I'm lucky maybe you're just ambivalent. Either way, you're gone. I thought I was alright with that. I tried my best to make peace and accept that this was a damnation of my own making. Still, there are days when my heart still breaks because I miss you. You were my little prince. I still love you and I still care but I won't write again. Your silence tells me everything I need to know. You're better off without me. If I had the courage I would slash open my eager flesh in penance. I wish I could take it all away, trade my life for yours. There's more but I can't bear to write it. I still wish every day that you'll be well, that your miracle will come but I am anathema to all that is good in your world. I am the bleakness, the emptiness, and the pain. I failed you. I'm sorry.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
just like high school
I know I'm supposed to be honoring those we lost today and I am but I can't help but feel like I'm not even a part of this anymore. It's been months since I've been able to take anything HRT related. My beard grows in so thick again, my hair is falling out in clumps, and I've aged about a decade. I don't feel like I'm part of this community. Hell, I don't even feel like I'm alive anymore. I tried to take the flutamide just to block the testosterone and now my kidneys are mysteriously messed up. Why? Wasn't being trans bad enough? What the hell? Now I can't even do anything about it. I can't even get a job to save my life.
I'm just waiting to die. I'm angry and I'm tired and miserable beyond anything I ever thought was imaginable. I lost everything. I just wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin. I feel like I've got a life sentence with no parole. That's it. Blog's done. I have absolutely nothing left to say that isn't violently furious or pathetically depressing. If you see me on the street do us all a favor and put one right between my eyes, alright? The world will be better off and I won't have to spend another second feeling this way.
I'm just waiting to die. I'm angry and I'm tired and miserable beyond anything I ever thought was imaginable. I lost everything. I just wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin. I feel like I've got a life sentence with no parole. That's it. Blog's done. I have absolutely nothing left to say that isn't violently furious or pathetically depressing. If you see me on the street do us all a favor and put one right between my eyes, alright? The world will be better off and I won't have to spend another second feeling this way.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Duanna, This one's for you
Hey.
Sorry I've been gone a while. My health is still not awesome. I don't want to talk about that though. I want to make a vow right here and right now to stand up and defend all of my trans brothers and sisters. So close to the day of Remembrance and Duanna Johnson, who stood up against hate for all of us is dead. I am gutted. To think I spent much of today arguing with someone because they called me a "nazi" on the internet. Why was I expending all that energy on something so meaningless when Duanna Johnson was fighting for me and my right to walk down the street without being, mocked, beaten, arrested, and killed?
Lori asked "Who's got your back?" Well I don't know who has my back but I hope you know that I have yours. Even if I can never transition I still know the fear of walking down a street at night alone and having that terrible knowledge of what could happen and just how likely it is. I've lost jobs and I've been abandoned just because I'm trans. I never met Duanna but I weep for her as though she were my own blood.
I'm angry but that anger gives me strength. We have to be strong for one another. We have to fight. I am fighting for you. Maybe someday Duanna's fate will be my own but I swear this: so long as I draw breath I will not quit until we can feel safe when we walk down the street. Until that day, lock arms with me kids and we'll walk this road together. And if someone tries to hurt us? We will fuck their shit up!
Sorry I've been gone a while. My health is still not awesome. I don't want to talk about that though. I want to make a vow right here and right now to stand up and defend all of my trans brothers and sisters. So close to the day of Remembrance and Duanna Johnson, who stood up against hate for all of us is dead. I am gutted. To think I spent much of today arguing with someone because they called me a "nazi" on the internet. Why was I expending all that energy on something so meaningless when Duanna Johnson was fighting for me and my right to walk down the street without being, mocked, beaten, arrested, and killed?
Lori asked "Who's got your back?" Well I don't know who has my back but I hope you know that I have yours. Even if I can never transition I still know the fear of walking down a street at night alone and having that terrible knowledge of what could happen and just how likely it is. I've lost jobs and I've been abandoned just because I'm trans. I never met Duanna but I weep for her as though she were my own blood.
I'm angry but that anger gives me strength. We have to be strong for one another. We have to fight. I am fighting for you. Maybe someday Duanna's fate will be my own but I swear this: so long as I draw breath I will not quit until we can feel safe when we walk down the street. Until that day, lock arms with me kids and we'll walk this road together. And if someone tries to hurt us? We will fuck their shit up!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
flip the script
Why, hello there!
I'd love to give you an update on my life but, regrettably, there's not much of one to give. I am really hoping that at the beginning of next week I'll have something hopeful and happy to report. In the interim, however, I was wondering if you wonderful blog buddies might do me a solid? It's not a major solid, As solids go it's actually pretty... uh... loose? Yeah, no idea where I was going with that one.
Anyway! Every so often so as to make me feel like I have some creative juices running through my very visible veins (seriously, if I were a super hero I'd be See Thru Girl It's kind of gross) I participate in this competition. Under normal circumstances, you are given a week to write a fifteen page screenplay using a preselected genre and subject. On this occasion, however, you have 48 hours to pen a five page script where there's preselected genre, location, and random object that must be involved (I know what you're thinking and get your minds out of the gutter, you filthy beasts).
So.. yeah! I participated and I am looking for some feedback. I'm not going to provide any qualifiers about whether or not I like my own work. I'm looking for some straight up now tell me is it gonna be you and me forever, oh oh oh, Paula Abdul, kind of honesty. Think you can handle it? Sure you can, because you're awesome. Um, please? I will be super grateful to anyone who even thinks about reading it. Approval: I crave it.
Here's the deets:
Genre: Romance
Location: Psychiatrist's Office
Object: A Vending Machine
My scripty poo: Crisps
And now I must go and torment myself with political nonsense. Yee gads I can't wait for this election to be over. I'm outie 5000.
edit: it seems that mediafire is not a great server. If you want to read the script between now and when I find an alternate server, drop me an email or comment and I will email it to you. Sound fair?
double edit: it's working now. Go for it, internet homies!
I'd love to give you an update on my life but, regrettably, there's not much of one to give. I am really hoping that at the beginning of next week I'll have something hopeful and happy to report. In the interim, however, I was wondering if you wonderful blog buddies might do me a solid? It's not a major solid, As solids go it's actually pretty... uh... loose? Yeah, no idea where I was going with that one.
Anyway! Every so often so as to make me feel like I have some creative juices running through my very visible veins (seriously, if I were a super hero I'd be See Thru Girl It's kind of gross) I participate in this competition. Under normal circumstances, you are given a week to write a fifteen page screenplay using a preselected genre and subject. On this occasion, however, you have 48 hours to pen a five page script where there's preselected genre, location, and random object that must be involved (I know what you're thinking and get your minds out of the gutter, you filthy beasts).
So.. yeah! I participated and I am looking for some feedback. I'm not going to provide any qualifiers about whether or not I like my own work. I'm looking for some straight up now tell me is it gonna be you and me forever, oh oh oh, Paula Abdul, kind of honesty. Think you can handle it? Sure you can, because you're awesome. Um, please? I will be super grateful to anyone who even thinks about reading it. Approval: I crave it.
Here's the deets:
Genre: Romance
Location: Psychiatrist's Office
Object: A Vending Machine
My scripty poo: Crisps
And now I must go and torment myself with political nonsense. Yee gads I can't wait for this election to be over. I'm outie 5000.
edit: it seems that mediafire is not a great server. If you want to read the script between now and when I find an alternate server, drop me an email or comment and I will email it to you. Sound fair?
double edit: it's working now. Go for it, internet homies!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
bound
Oh jeez.
So, hey. Remember when I was talking about how badly I need a job like a zillion times on this blog? Right. Of course you do. Well there's two new wrinkles in that situation and I don't know what to do. In other words, I need insight. Let me give you a little back story.
I haven't worked in nearly a year. The last job I had I, uh, was not the nicest person in the world. I'm totally anti authority in a way you thought only a teenager could be. Also: you know how there's a process to transitioning at work? Yeah... I didn't bother with that. I just sort of started telling people a few at a time and then I just started presenting however the hell I wanted from day to day. Yup. I'm crazy. AND stupid. Just as a fun aside: my father also worked in the same office as me and had no idea what I was doing. My father is delusional and, to be fair, I am a bit duplicitous and sneaky.
Anyway. You already know what my year has consisted of. Between the lousy job market, the multitude of permanent physical conditions I've gained, and sheer laziness I haven't gotten any work. Finally, now that I've been feeling healthier, I stepped up my job search. It took one day to realize the new bump in the road: absolutely no one from my former company will give me a recommendation. I have zero professional recommendations I can get. NONE. ZILCH. It's a big problem. I was completely devil may care about the trans thing, basically said "Go fuck yourself if you don't like it" and now I'm paying the consequences. I haven't worked for too many other people in my life. I was a personal assistant but my boss lives in Florida now and I haven't talked to her in ages. Prior to that I worked for a bit of a scam telemarketing company and before that did a whole mess of retail. It's not exactly a shiny resume, is it?
It's not what you know, it's who you know. Except, I don't know anyone and everyone who knows me thinks I am a) an asshole and b) a crazy person. I can't say I blame them. It's not like those are not the first two descriptive adjectives that spring to mind when I think of myself. I do have friends though but, ah, then comes the next wrinkle.
A good friend of mine said she could get me some work as an assistant where she is working which would mean, gasp, a job in the fashion industry. I know, right? How cool. I would love to get into that but there's a problem. You see my friend has connections to the man who deals with the hiring. She has a big mouth (like me) and has talked about me on many occasions. When she asked about my getting this particular job he immediately got defensive. I don't want you to be surprised but he didn't want to stick his neck out for the tranny. I know. SO hard to believe.
I could get this job. It's not a lock but I have a shot. The problem is that I can't transition at this job. EVER. It would mean screwing over the guy who would be sticking his neck out for me based solely on my friend's recommendation and it would also cause problems for said friend.
I'm of two minds on the matter. The first mind says that the job market is a horror and that sacrifices have to be made. My other mind is screaming expletives because, frankly, this is bullshit. I mean it's the fashion industry. How did I stumble upon a conservative, Jewish fashion company? HOW!?!? There is no gayer institution than fashion. Bah.
I'm sending my resume along. What else can I do? I'm painted into a corner. I guess what I'm really asking is: How am I supposed to go back to being a man full time again? I make a lot of jokes about what a good looking mister I make (and, fair play, I am the hotness) but this is killing me. My hair started falling out again. I'm all angular and hard looking. Dude, this sucks. I was all soft and girly for a little while there.
It's either be a dude with a job or be a homeless tranny. These are the choices I get in my life. Fuck this world. Fuck it hard, fuck it bloody, and fuck it till it's dead then fuck it's corpse a while longer. Sorry, did I say that last part out loud? Not very lady like at all of me...
So, hey. Remember when I was talking about how badly I need a job like a zillion times on this blog? Right. Of course you do. Well there's two new wrinkles in that situation and I don't know what to do. In other words, I need insight. Let me give you a little back story.
I haven't worked in nearly a year. The last job I had I, uh, was not the nicest person in the world. I'm totally anti authority in a way you thought only a teenager could be. Also: you know how there's a process to transitioning at work? Yeah... I didn't bother with that. I just sort of started telling people a few at a time and then I just started presenting however the hell I wanted from day to day. Yup. I'm crazy. AND stupid. Just as a fun aside: my father also worked in the same office as me and had no idea what I was doing. My father is delusional and, to be fair, I am a bit duplicitous and sneaky.
Anyway. You already know what my year has consisted of. Between the lousy job market, the multitude of permanent physical conditions I've gained, and sheer laziness I haven't gotten any work. Finally, now that I've been feeling healthier, I stepped up my job search. It took one day to realize the new bump in the road: absolutely no one from my former company will give me a recommendation. I have zero professional recommendations I can get. NONE. ZILCH. It's a big problem. I was completely devil may care about the trans thing, basically said "Go fuck yourself if you don't like it" and now I'm paying the consequences. I haven't worked for too many other people in my life. I was a personal assistant but my boss lives in Florida now and I haven't talked to her in ages. Prior to that I worked for a bit of a scam telemarketing company and before that did a whole mess of retail. It's not exactly a shiny resume, is it?
It's not what you know, it's who you know. Except, I don't know anyone and everyone who knows me thinks I am a) an asshole and b) a crazy person. I can't say I blame them. It's not like those are not the first two descriptive adjectives that spring to mind when I think of myself. I do have friends though but, ah, then comes the next wrinkle.
A good friend of mine said she could get me some work as an assistant where she is working which would mean, gasp, a job in the fashion industry. I know, right? How cool. I would love to get into that but there's a problem. You see my friend has connections to the man who deals with the hiring. She has a big mouth (like me) and has talked about me on many occasions. When she asked about my getting this particular job he immediately got defensive. I don't want you to be surprised but he didn't want to stick his neck out for the tranny. I know. SO hard to believe.
I could get this job. It's not a lock but I have a shot. The problem is that I can't transition at this job. EVER. It would mean screwing over the guy who would be sticking his neck out for me based solely on my friend's recommendation and it would also cause problems for said friend.
I'm of two minds on the matter. The first mind says that the job market is a horror and that sacrifices have to be made. My other mind is screaming expletives because, frankly, this is bullshit. I mean it's the fashion industry. How did I stumble upon a conservative, Jewish fashion company? HOW!?!? There is no gayer institution than fashion. Bah.
I'm sending my resume along. What else can I do? I'm painted into a corner. I guess what I'm really asking is: How am I supposed to go back to being a man full time again? I make a lot of jokes about what a good looking mister I make (and, fair play, I am the hotness) but this is killing me. My hair started falling out again. I'm all angular and hard looking. Dude, this sucks. I was all soft and girly for a little while there.
It's either be a dude with a job or be a homeless tranny. These are the choices I get in my life. Fuck this world. Fuck it hard, fuck it bloody, and fuck it till it's dead then fuck it's corpse a while longer. Sorry, did I say that last part out loud? Not very lady like at all of me...
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
quel dommage
I appreciate any of you who have been sticking around. I realize it's not happy or fun or sexy watching a tranny return to her former masculine roots. I'm sure some of you have cast me aside either because you no longer find me attractive or because the idea of returning to your former gender is too scary to hazard even a moment's imagining. Things are what they are, however, and so I must press onward down a path that is not always of my own choosing.
In a way I realize I could very well continue taking hormones and blockers as I once did and ignore the doctors. It's my body I'm listening to though and it's telling me in no uncertain terms that it desperately wants to be healthy and that the fastest way to health is by forgoing any unnecessary stress. It's no secret that the pills I took put great strain on me physically. It's also no secret that living in a house of judgment has had probably as much physical detriment as it does mental. Oh yeah, I have no money and the economy is collapsing. What's a girl trapped in the body of a very sexy man to do?
I had a job interview that I had to cancel. I was so excited when I got this seemingly random call shortly after posting my resume to hotjobs. Shortly afterward though I realized, thankfully, that the offer was too good to be true. A quick bit of research uncovered some very shady business practices and so, with heavy heart, I realized this was no opportunity at all.
I bought a new suit for interviews. I can tell you that was very depressing but, let's face it, no one's hiring this hot tranny mess unless she stuff herself into a suit and plays male for a while. I have a renewed vigor though. Surprisingly part of said vigor stemmed from finding the perfect suit. It's a shame, really. For all my protestations, I know men's fashion. Maybe some day I will find a man to dress... and then promptly undress.
Anyway! I'm on a job hunting spree. If anyone in the New York area has some leads on anything let me know. I'm interested in switching to editorial or copyright work but I'm not against personal assistant or secretarial shenanigans to fill the time. I just want to do something I won't despise and wont' stress me out to the point of hospitalization.
The order of things is:
1) get job
2) move out
3) get back to the whole 'being a girl' thing.
It sucks that it's got to be in that order but, really, do you see an alternative? Seriously, if you do then please share it with me. Until then I'll just be taking pictures of myself in a new suit in my bathroom. Like so:
In a way I realize I could very well continue taking hormones and blockers as I once did and ignore the doctors. It's my body I'm listening to though and it's telling me in no uncertain terms that it desperately wants to be healthy and that the fastest way to health is by forgoing any unnecessary stress. It's no secret that the pills I took put great strain on me physically. It's also no secret that living in a house of judgment has had probably as much physical detriment as it does mental. Oh yeah, I have no money and the economy is collapsing. What's a girl trapped in the body of a very sexy man to do?
I had a job interview that I had to cancel. I was so excited when I got this seemingly random call shortly after posting my resume to hotjobs. Shortly afterward though I realized, thankfully, that the offer was too good to be true. A quick bit of research uncovered some very shady business practices and so, with heavy heart, I realized this was no opportunity at all.
I bought a new suit for interviews. I can tell you that was very depressing but, let's face it, no one's hiring this hot tranny mess unless she stuff herself into a suit and plays male for a while. I have a renewed vigor though. Surprisingly part of said vigor stemmed from finding the perfect suit. It's a shame, really. For all my protestations, I know men's fashion. Maybe some day I will find a man to dress... and then promptly undress.
Anyway! I'm on a job hunting spree. If anyone in the New York area has some leads on anything let me know. I'm interested in switching to editorial or copyright work but I'm not against personal assistant or secretarial shenanigans to fill the time. I just want to do something I won't despise and wont' stress me out to the point of hospitalization.
The order of things is:
1) get job
2) move out
3) get back to the whole 'being a girl' thing.
It sucks that it's got to be in that order but, really, do you see an alternative? Seriously, if you do then please share it with me. Until then I'll just be taking pictures of myself in a new suit in my bathroom. Like so:
Sunday, October 12, 2008
croney hermit, the continuing adventures
Not much to say about this video other than, you know, I'm awesome and great. I do want to take this time to say, baxter, if you're still reading this, feel free to bring it political style anytime you like to my blog. I'm officially wearing my grown up pants so I think I can handle your "humor".
I guess that's it. There were other things I'd planned to mention in this video but I ran out of time since I blabber too much about absolutely nothing. Just to pique your interests, the next video will involve my musical tastes both past and present, continued hormone updates, and more sock puppetry. Exciting, huh? Maybe? Little bit?
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