• I have to update....

  ...in the next day or two, but right now I am just too vicodine'd out to type or even think very well. I had a root canal early this morning and it was kind of rough. An hour and forty five minutes in the chair. Dang that hurt. The valium helped to get me in the chair and not run away, but it didn't so much for anything else. But I am not complaining. Valium, bring it on. As much as I am not a dentist person (duh), I could have not wished for a better place to go. The dentist is a very cool caring guy, and the specialist who did my root canal this morning, well they don't come any better then her. And the staff? Wonderful. With all that said, I still dread going back (understatement) and would not go back if I did not positively have to, but I am in the thick of it.

  Some good things are going on. REALLY good things, Yesterday morning, I went in to see a lawyer I had hunted down and my legal name change is now officially underway. Approximately two months from now Trish Marie will be my name for reals.

  My son was supposed to spend the night and tomorrow with me, but the rains made travel a little treacherous, so it was called off. I could tell he was anxious to be here, and I wanted him very much to be here with me.

   

  More in the next day or two..
  Trish

Thursday, March 20th, 2003

• "So, what's going on, Trish?"

  Wait.
  "Wait what."
  This is my diary, is it not?
  "Well, yes."
  You started today's entry, and that is just wrong.
  "A memoir faux pas. Pardonnez-moi."
  Yeah, that.

  ...My name change lawyer called today and the paperwork for my name change has been completed and is in the mail. I should get it in the next day or two and I will sign that thing and then...... BAM, right back to them. That's what I wanted, just done and done. What a banner day that will be, the day I get my new drivers license. Four years ago you could have knocked me over with a feather before I would have ever believed that would happen.

  AND, speaking of feathers, you could have also knocked me over with a feather before I would have ever believed that I would be going to the dentist every week and a half to be shot full of novocaine and drilled, every time. I think I am still in too much shock to really fight it, or say, "Hey, WTF is going on here. This is not in the program." It has taken on a life of it's own. But at least I have not had any toothaches lately. That last time at the dentist really hurt. I have another appointment next Thursday. Wednesday, needles outside the face, Thursday, needles inside the mouth. Needles needles.

  "You are boring, Trish."
  Hey, you started this entry, I wasn't going to write today.

  I finally saw my son last night. It was good. Damn. I cannot tell you what is going on with him as this is not his diary, but it was a stressful week for him, his mom and I. Everything is okay so far and will hopefully stay that way. It is more then a little difficult being a parent who lives some 170 miles away from their son and who cannot be there all the time. Fuck. Enough of that. There is nothing I can do about it, not right now anyway. "We must get on with our lives", an oft used quote from my once other half.

  Well, at least we are seeing a lot of Tony Blair on the television. He is easy on the eyes.

  There was a dead raccoon on our private road yesterday. This is Daniel Boone type country to a more or less bigger then smaller city person like myself, and I don't like to see dead raccoons. I just thought I would mention that.

  One time, oh about four or five years ago at work, there was a little mouse caught in one of those "sticky traps". You know, those kind of traps that the mouse or rat just gets stuck on and then are just stuck there to starve or dehydrate or something like that? Those traps save you from having to deal with the kind that go sa-NAP(!!) and scare the shit out of you if they go off as you are setting them. Anyway, there was that poor little mouse (I know, a troublesome rodent) stuck to the trap and nobody would/could do anything about it. But at the same time they are all like, "That is so awful." Well, I decided that I would be "the guy". This is what "the guys" do, I think. I know it sounds "trannie cliché", but I was going to be "the guy" to put that little mouse out of his misery and appear to be, "Hey, it bothers me not. Big deal." Everybody was relieved, but it was I that had to go outside and do it. I took that little mouse on the sticky trap outside to do the deed and suddenly as I stood there alone in the dark, I was losing my bravado. But I knew I had to do it. I could not go back inside having not done it and I could also not let that little mouse just die that death. So once again, trying to be "the guy" I found myself in an uncomfortable situation.

  I found a big board, I put it on top of the mouse and jumped on it as hard as possible. I couldn't even look at the results. I did my best to pick it all up while not looking and dispose of it in a big trash can. I went back inside acting like I was not disturbed in the slightest about what I had just done. That is what guys do. Isn't it? Does this bother most guys? I just don't know. But all I do know is that what I had done that night still bothers the shit out of me. I have caught many rats in traps (ug) that I set in my ex-home. Something had to be done about those rats and I was "the guy" that had to do it, but it was not the same as that little mouse at work, something that I did not have to be responsible for. Anyway, just thinking out loud. The raccoon reminded me of it.

  Oh, another feather thing. Friends and ex co-workers I have not seen for eons are coming out of the woodwork, writing me to say that they know about Trish, they have seen my website and they are all supportive. How they found me, I don't know and it doesn't matter. I am glad they did/do. Man, you hide this thing all of your life thinking that to do anything else would be suicide, only to find out that you should have made the move to change your life a long time ago. Not to seem insensitive, but at this point, even if they wanted to kick my ass it would not matter, it would/could not stop me from transitioning. A while back, this was not the case. But man, as I have said before, it is always so nice to know that you don't have to leave everything behind that you thought you would have to leave behind. Thankful? You betchya. Hopefully I will be able to carry on with some of these relationships, something that at the start of transition, I never thought possible.

  I have been thinking lately that I want to do another "breast silhouette picture" to illustrate any growth I might have had since the last time I did that. I think this would be a good idea, but I am also afraid that it might totally bum me out as I really doubt there has been any growth. So we will see. It is funny (not really) how the importance of having breasts take such a back seat in so many areas, but a front seat in others. When compared to Gender Reassignment Surgery, breast augmentation barely registers, but when I think of how I feel about my body overall, breast augmentation or growth registers a lot more. I suppose it is just a matter of priorities. Damn priorities. I can get by with what I have, but...... dang. Between genetic woman and others like myself, I am probably not alone with these emotions about my/their breasts.

  "Gee Trish, ya think?"
  Let's end this for today.
  " I don't know, Trish. It's kind of fun watching you squirm trying like the devil to think of any progress you are making."

  Well, I have to try and remember that even as I sit here, thinking no progress is taking place, I am finally full time, my legal name change is on the works, the hair on my face is slowly but surely going away and as a friend once said to me, "Trish, every day that you take your hormones, progress is being made."

   

  I want to thank you, falettinme, be mice elf again.
  Thank you, falettinme, be mice elf again
  Sly & the Family Stone

Saturday, March 22nd, 2003

• For time frame reference....

  ...the name change petition forms came in the mail today all filled out and I have signed and dated them..... and BAM, like I said, they are in the mail heading back to my lawyer. Seeing my name on a semi-legal document is wonderful, and it feels so good, finally.

   

  Somethin' tells me I'm into something good.
  Herman's Hermits

Tuesday, March 25th, 2003

• This is my....

  ...post-op candle. A few months ago a friend gave it to me, as a gift. She said, "I dunno Trish, the fragrance is pretty girlie. You might not want to burn it until after surgery." Ha. Hey, good idea. So I decided a while back that this is what I will do. After Gender Reassignment Surgery, I will go into my bedroom, light it and reflect. It will be a good time.... Just me and my Post-Op Candle.

   

  
  Trish

Saturday, April 5th, 2003

• I am having....

  ...one of "those" days. One of those days when you just get tired of it, kind of. I don't even want to make this entry, but I have to. I need to go to town today and make copies for tax purposes, but I am also letting my facial hair grow for electrolysis next Wednesday. When I go anyplace under these circumstances it always makes me feel like I am putting on a "girl mask" what with the foundation I have to use to cover up what hair is there. And then I am constantly worrying about how it looks. I hate it. In June I will have been going to electrolysis faithfully just about every week, and sometimes twice a week for three years. I need it to come to an end. I need it to be done. Putting on a mask is not living. And electrolysis is expensive. I am just glad I had no idea what was ahead of me before I started it. Or maybe I should have known. It wouldn't have stopped me, this is for sure. I don't know.

  "My front tooth just broke off. I am devastated and alone."

  I had written that in my Transition Diary on Tuesday, February 6th, 2001. I cannot tell you how bad I felt when that tooth broke off. I was devastated. I cried for hours that night, and off and on for weeks. I knew that it was not going to get fixed. Because of my fear of the dentist and the fact that I was/am uninsured, that was really the beginning of the end of my mouth. Over the last two years, I have kind of gotten used to it not being there. I keep my mouth shut a lot. I cover my mouth when I laugh (yes I laugh). However, it now looks as though that is about to come to an end. On Monday April 21st they are going to pull what remains of my front tooth and measure for a replacement. They are going to pull it while I am awake and I am freaking. But I have the valium and they told me I could double up on it. It looks as though within a short time I will have a new front tooth. The thing is though, I will still cover my face when I smile or laugh because my face looks awful when I do smile or laugh. But I guess at least I will not look like a toothless dog under my hands when I cover up. I just cannot wait until the dentist says, "Okay Trish, we're finished pulling." And I hope I can't tell when they are finished, or started, or doing it. Fuck.

  I am not liking this entry.

  I did also kind of a not so good thing last Wednesday. I got out of therapy early and so I decided to take a drive to my old neighborhoods and places I used to frequent, just to see it as I have not been ever there in at least ten years. I went by the house that I grew up in until I was nine years old on the beach in Santa Monica. I drove by another house I used to live in for a long time. I drove by the place I worked for a few years for my dad in Beverly Hills/Century City. That was one trippy job. I would go in there in the morning, and my dad would say, "Would you take this upstairs and get it proofread?" So off I go upstairs with a raging hangover/high after having done cocaine and Colt 45 Malt Liquor since I left work the previous day to find myself minutes later sitting with the likes of Burt Lancaster and Morgan Fairchild discussing some work we would do for them. Kind of surreal with a hangover. Most of the time I just couldn't wait to get out of there and into a restaurant that was in our office building to get a quick booze fix.

  On this Wednesday's drive down memory lane, there were just wall to wall people since I had gotten off the freeway in Santa Monica. The only quiet I had was in the restroom at a Jack in the Box that I had stopped at to get a Diet Coke® . It was on Wilshire Blvd and this was one of the first Jack in the Boxes in existence. My mom used to take me there when I was barely 11 years old. There are just too many people all over. I carried on and I had decided I would cruise the Sunset Strip...

  ...This whole drive was giving me a feeling of dread that just seemed to be building up more and more all the time. Something did just not feel good. I got to the end of the Strip and I said to myself, "Trish, you gotta get out of here. This is all the past. You have a future now that is a whole lot better then any of this was." I turned around, headed back down the Strip, past The Beverly Hills Hotel and Polo Lounge, past Bel-Air, past UCLA, past Westwood, past everything, got on the freeway and headed home. That drive, it was just too much, not a great idea. Too many bad memories of shit I had done that I wish I hadn't done, using and drinking, my dad, wasting my life away, just all kinds of shit. Oh, there were good times in the past, but I needed to get back to where I belong in the present. I needed to go home.

  The topper to all of this, like karma, was that when I got home and I was telling my Mom about all the places I had been to that day, she said, "Listen to the phone message machine." And so not knowing what message was there, I did. It was my dad. (He has no idea that I am divorced or transitioning or even living with my Mom) He had called my Mom to tell her that a very good friend of his had passed away and he sounded depressed, as usual. Yep, this was the topper to the day. I had not heard my fathers voice in I don't know how many years and neither I nor my Mom knew that it would freak me out. I still love him. I left him behind, but I still love him. I don't want him in my life, but I still love him. I excused myself for a few minutes, went outside to have a cigarette and got it out of my system. When I came back into the house my Mom gave me a hug and said, "I'm really sorry, I guess that was insensitive of me. I should have told you." I said, "Hey Mom, it's okay, I mean who was to know." Anyway. Enough of dad, and that Wednesday.

  And now an apology from me to all the folks in this world
  who are transitioning physically from one gender to the other:

  Five years ago, I was a middle class guy with a good paying job that I had had for years. All was pretty well with the world. For me, financial and living stability was something that I was taking for granted. Then, a few years ago, I thought this is it. The time is right. I am going to go for it. Trish. I started transition. I was put on Premarin. Then, out of the blue, Premarin is impossible to find. I also need to drive all over the place for my transition. Then, out of the blue, the price of gas started skyrocketing to what it is today. And to be sure, like all of us who transition, I needed good solid employment to fund this transition (IE: life), which I had had for years. Then, out of the blue, layoffs, September 11th and now a war and our economy. For electrolysis I need tons of EMLA (a topical lidocaine/prilocaine by prescription only used to numb the skin), and now out of the blue, EMLA cannot be had for reasons I am still trying to search out. So you see, had I just stayed the way I was, physically a guy, none of this would have happened. I apologize. I also apologize for what might happen in the future, because I am not stopping.

  I am not really as bummed today as this Transition Diary entry might make me appear to be, but if I keep writing that stuff, it is going to get me that way.

  Good things are happening. My teeth are being fixed (even though I am quite scared of the procedures), my legal name change is coming along and all of that there stuff.

  "Trish, one thing I am not understanding...."
  ..and that would be?
  "You are afraid of the dentist, but you are not afraid of Gender Reassignment Surgery? You are frightened of a procedure that fills a cavity and not of one that makes all guys shiver in their boots and turn pale at just the thought?"
  I am a little frightened of the GRS procedure, but I am not a guy, and that is said to me a lot. Figure it out.

  Oh, and I went for a hair trim the other day. The cool thing about that is that nobody expects me to cut it short any more. Yay. What society expects of a person no longer has an effect on my appearance, at least, not in a way that bothers me. Yay. I will never have to wear that suit and tie again. Yay. I will never have to have short hair again. Yay. There are just so many "never have to's". That is really good.

  You may think it ridiculous, but a suit and tie is to me like Kryptonite to Superman. I put that shit on and I am not able to think straight. For reals. I have not had that suit and tie on since I went to the temporary employment agency in October of 2001. I will never have to wear it or anything like it again, for employment or otherwise and that is a huge load off my mind.

  "That does sound ridiculous, Trish. What a thing to worry about."
  It's just part of a huge bigger picture I guess. You think I like it?
  "It's a big mean world out there, Trish. It doesn't always come down to what you like."
  Na na na na naaaaaaaaaaaaaa naaaaaaaaaaaa. Yer too late. The suit and tie is gone

  La la la...

   

  Baloo: I'm stuck on a mountain without a hope...
  Louie: I'll be there with the rope!
  Baloo: Like my duds?
  Louie: Oh, you sure are cute!
  Baloo: They fit me better than your monkey suit!
  Disney Afternoon: Tale Spin

Friday, April 18th, 2003

• My son is....

  ...here for a few days during spring break, so I don't have much time to update, but a few things need to be logged.

  I received word from my name change lawyer yesterday that the paperwork for my name change came back from the courts. Next step: The name change notice will be running in the newspaper starting this Sunday and every Sunday for four consecutive weeks. After that, a court appearance and if nobody shows up to contest the change, it's a done deal.

  "If nobody shows up in court to contest your name change? Somebody could do that?"
  Don't even think about it. I will scratch your eyes out.

  I just found out that my grandfather on my fathers side was an alcoholic and that he had committed suicide. This was many years ago. I never met him. I may write about my feelings on this at another time.

  It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.
  - Dumbledore - Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (2001)

  I enjoy many things in life. Transition is not all there is to me. I have not forgotten to live, but I want to live the life I need to live. And right now every penny I have, every bit of energy I have is put into transition so that I can get past the majority of the work involved and then get on with living that life. Transition is the gist of what my site on the Internet is about. It is about sharing and letting others know that they are not alone. It is about me not being alone. It is about communication. Make jokes about me if you want (and you do) while you can, because someday you won't know enough to make jokes. My Transition Diary will no longer be available to read and the Trish you know at this point in time will be gone. That is when I will once again pursue other interests, the interests that I do not have the time or money for right now. I had written a long time back that this website of mine, this website that is focused primarily on my transition from male to female or however you want to say it is not the kind of website that I want. I want to have a website that is just about stuff I like and not this transition crap. And someday I will have that and most will never know of Trish Marie "the transsexual". There will come a time to be less then totally honest about my past, and it will be good.

  Yes, I hate my dick. I do not hate your dick. I think it looks great on you. Your dick is very nice. I am serious, you have a very pretty dick. Lot's of guys have very pretty dicks. And believe me, I envy you so much that you are content to have that pretty dick. Woman on the other hand, do not have pretty dicks. At least this woman does not have a pretty dick, understand? No? I didn't think so.

  It is your scrotum that is uglier then shit. What was God thinking. He must have created the scrotum and fruitcake on the same day.

  I have found more EMLA. It seems that my pharmacy might be the only place that could not find any. Who knows, but at least I don't have to go through another session of electrolysis without it. I am telling you, that was murder. That hurt like a mutha. I reached 193 hours of electro above my collarbone this past Wednesday.

  Oh, and kind of good news, for me. The day before yesterday it seems my chest started feeling sore again. I used to equate soreness with growth, and deep down inside I still want to, but I have not had much growth in two years and ten months, so it probably ain't so.

  Hey, my legal name is gonna be Trish Marie in a few weeks. Is that cool?
  "Cool? Sorry Trish, I can't relate."
  Yeah, that is because you can take who you are for granted I guess.
  "I try to understand, Trish. I try."
  Hey, you were born who you are inside and out. I would not expect you to understand it. I have said that many times.
  "That's good, because I don't."
  Okay, then you can make a joke about me now if you wish.
  "I can't do it while you are watching."
  Yeah, I understand.

  Hey...
  "What."
  Do you like firearms, Frank Sinatra... Maybe we could get some concerts tickets or something sometime.
  "Those things cost money. Keep your eye on the ball, Trish. We have to get some of this stuff wrapped up. Then we will have some fun."
  Right, you are right. This is not easy sometimes, putting a lot of my life on hold for this stupid ass transition.
  "I am certainly glad that I am not in your shoes, Trish."
  Yeah, you would hate it. Wait, lemmie see your scrotum. Oh yeah, that's bad. You might want to try some Preparation H® on those wrinkles. But hey, your dick is real pretty. It looks great on you. I like it.

  ...anyway, more soon.

   

  
  Trish

Friday, May 2nd, 2003

• I have good news and....

  ...bad news about my legal name change. The good news is that I have a court date. The bad news is that it is not until mid July. Oh well, the good news is much gooder then the bad news is bad. I will just let it go at that. Things are falling into place, just very................. very.................. slowly.

  Oh, to add insult to injury, my divorce lawyer (lawyer #1) whom I had originally requested handle my name change billed me again for services not rendered. It seems that notifying me that he had decided he would not deal with it since I did not live in the county he works out of was worth $250.00 of his time. I am learning about lawyers. That was $250.00 that was going to go towards my name change that is happening. I called his office and said, "Please return the balance of my retainer fee." With every bit of correspondence from his office they said they would return the balance to me upon my request. His secretary said she would have him call me back. I thought to myself, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! He will charge me for the call and that will be the end of whatever is left!!!" Anyway, that was last week and he has still not returned my call. I hope he is not going to bill me for "time thought about returning that call to Trish". Yeah, I am learning about lawyers. I am learning that it is best to never get yourself into circumstances that require one.

  It was really good to have my son here over his spring break. We didn't do much, but to just be in the same house is where it is at. I drove him back home on Easter Sunday and this time leaving him was very difficult. Sometimes it is not that bad, but Easter Sunday was one of them thar very difficult times. You can't cry in front of your kids you know. So you wait the best you can until you are around the corner.

  I am getting kind of lost with all the work they are doing on my teeth. I can't keep it straight as to what teeth they are going to work on, or even what teeth they have worked on. Lot's o' work. Monday before last they worked on 5 teeth in the morning, then I was to go back in the afternoon to have my front tooth pulled and a new tooth put in. Well, as it turned out for one reason or another the afternoon appointment was cancelled until the following Thursday. So I did go in on Thursday, they pulled my front tooth, while I was dang awake, and put in a new FOUR teeth.

  It only hurt a little bit when they pulled the tooth and they were pretty doggoned fast about it. It is still not something that I would want to do every day, but with valium and lots of novocaine, it was not so much a killer. And, I have new teeth to boot. I never thought this day would happen. So, you can see why at least for today, I am not stomping my feet about my name change, and one or two other things. Falling into place..... But to be truthful, only yesterday did the pain of the new teeth start to fade. Eating? Not much for days. I have another root canal scheduled for this coming Monday morning. Which tooth? I have no idea.

  Friday, the day after my tooth was pulled I drove to my old "home" to do some packing and to pick up the rest of my stuff to get it out of my ex-wife's way. One more trip and the last of my stuff should be out of there. There is not that much and I don't want much anyway. Time to "clean house". My Mom had gone up the day before so she was there when I arrived. My son seems happy and his mom was very nice to me, as she has been pretty much since I moved out. She and my Mom have always gotten along great, and that never changed, just as I have always loved her brother and he likes me, and that has not changed. So that was Friday and Saturday of last week. Busy. Thanks for helping me, Mom.

  Yesterday I finally opened up the information packet that I had requested from Dr. Meltzer, a surgeon who performs Gender Reassignment Surgery etc. in Arizona. I had not done it before now because I figure, what is the point. When I am given the go ahead I will get the specifics that I need. I already know the basics and to just read about it is discouraging. But anyway, it is still doable and it will remain doable until the end of this year if I am able to correctly predict how my finances will hold out. I am doing everything I can to prove that I am committed to my transition to the parties that need that prove stuff. I just don't know what else I can do. Just live I guess. I can even afford breast augmentation at the same time as GRS and I will probably not do that to save a little money. Anyway, still doable, and of course, still needed.

  I will start the required genital electrolysis soon. I have discussed it with my lectro person on more then one occasion and she will do it for me. She has to know that a person is serious about this and normally requires documentation from a therapist or such before she will perform genital electrolysis. Not a very pleasant experience all the way around, but a necessary one. I need to get it out of the way. One less thing to worry about a little way down the road. This week I reached 197 hours and 30 minutes of electrolysis above my collarbone.

  I wish there were more interesting stuff going on. I have not been out of this house except for stuff that is "needed" for a while. I think this afternoon I will just go window shopping for a short time and get a Diet Coke®.

   

  Slow down, you move too fast. You got to make the mornin' last.
  Just kickin' down the cobblestones, lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy.
  Simon And Garfunkel

Thursday, May 15th, 2003

• I saw my therapist....

  ...yesterday. This time I am not jumping the gun. My therapist actually said, "Call and make a date for surgery." It is a done deal. I had told him that taking into consideration the cost of surgery, my finances would take me through about the end of the year and surgery is most likely a "now or never" thing. It was not an attempted squeeze play, it is the truth. The cost of surgery is just about equal to something like a down payment on a house. You know that people save for years and quite a few never reach that goal, especially "transsexual women" who are a lot of the times in lower paying jobs. And lower paying jobs is going to be my middle name. I have talents, but unfortunately, they are talents nobody needs. And like I have said before, I bet nobody has ever had timing fall into place for transition as perfect as it has for me. I have the money, the support, I am in-between jobs, I am freshly divorced... It just couldn't be much more perfect as far as outside considerations go. It is pretty amazing, knock on wood. Knock on an effin 4x4... Oh man, what the Hell, knock on a redwood. I will start the ball rolling today on getting a surgery date setup.

  I am having Gender Reassignment Surgery. No shit this time.

  On Friday, May 11th, 2001, regarding my then upcoming cosmetic surgery, I had written:

  "If I wake up, good. If I don't wake up, good."

  At that point in time I was not doing all that great emotionally and it got even worse after that. I really really did not care if I woke up after the procedure. As a matter of fact, 2/3rds of me did not want to make it through the surgery. What a perfect way to die, in your sleep doing something you have always wanted to do. But now, I really really want to wake up. I want to wake after surgery. I want to be like other people. I want to feel right. I want to live. This is just a little entry in my Transition Diary but it cannot be stressed enough. I want to wake up this time.

   

   

    ........breathe...

   

   

    I also told my therapist that yes, many times when I am lashing out at the world, whether vocally or in silence it is because I am not happy with myself. I am not feeling good about myself and the world gets doomy and gloomy and I don't want to hear shit from anybody. There are people out there that would like to take this little bit of information about me and run with it, but of all people, they are the ones who should probably not do that. I will continue to work on this problem of mine.

  Well, I finally did it. Electrolysis. I reached 200 hours of work above my collarbone yesterday. I started electro on Friday June 23rd, 2000, almost 3 years ago. At that time I had heard through the grapevine that 200 hours was about the norm to complete permanent clearing of a (ick) beard and mustache. I learned as time went by that 200 hours means nothing as everybody is different. Some are finished in 20 hours (Oh PLEASE) and some need 500 hours (save us). But I kept that 200 hours in the back of my mind as a goal just the same. I have been going to electrolysis every week and sometimes twice a week faithfully for almost three years and the fact that I have been able to do so while unemployed and often times in a deep depression is nothing short of a miracle and whatever entity is responsible for that, well, I am on my knees to you. Please keep it coming because I ain't finished yet. My next goal as far as electro goes? Just to finish.

  Oh, and it is true about EMLA® (the topical cream by prescription only that is used to numb the skin during electrolysis etc.). I found a memo on the EMLA® website regarding it being discontinued for a time. The memo was dated August and October of 2002 and it states that EMLA® will be unavailable to anybody other then hospitals until mid 2003, which is next month. This so that they can package it in "child proof" dispensers . Hopefully they are on schedule. I managed to find another tube of it yesterday so I am good with it for about another month. After that? If it is not available? Well, I will explore my options further. It could get dicey.

  I discussed again genital electro with my electro person and we will start soon, very soon.

  I had the root canal in my tooth last week and this coming Monday I go in for 4 more fillings. After that I am not sure what needs to be done, but there is more fun to be had. A lot more. But no more toothaches and sleepless nights babee.... At least, no sleepless nights over teeth.

  This morning as I walked out on the back porch I saw that two little sparrow eggs had fallen from one of the three nests out there and lay broken on the ground. I never know when to expect it. I started to get weepy. But in a flash I said to myself, "Trish! Snap out of it! Damn. What is with you." When I would come upon such things some time back I would just think, "Hey that's nature babee, tough titties for the birds. They'll have more. Next."

  Some things didn't use to bother me, too too much. I used to eat up the show called Cops on television. The reality show where a TV crew rides with police officers and documents their days and nights on the job. I used to be attracted to those reality shows that showed car chases and accidents. I can't watch the car ones anymore at all, and the cops one I watch every once in while and mostly just sit there thinking how sad it all is. I don't make fun of the "trailer trash", I don't sit there thinking, "Man, am I glad I am not them. I just sit there thinking, how damn sad. I cannot stand the prostitute stings. They really piss me off. Whether they are busting the persons seeking service, or the persons giving it, it just pisses me off to no end. Not fair. A lot of the time the girls are just trying to survive. Another subject.

  These things did not used to bother me, as much. Oh, I never enjoyed seeing anybody hurt. But you know, it is the "you don't want to look but you have to" thing. I don't look anymore. I can't look anymore.

  I can't remember if I wrote about this before, but the turning point for me was about eight years ago when I was drinking and watching one of those Faces of Death videos with the guys. Faces of Death videos were reality videos of gory stuff, everything from shootings to car accidents to parachuting accidents to autopsies. I think there are about 5 of these videos in the series. In this one that we were watching, an elected representative by the name of R. Bud Dwyer had invited the press for a news conference. Soon after everybody had arrived in his office and the cameras started rolling, he proceeded to pull a rather large caliber handgun from his briefcase, put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger, suicide. It was very graphic and the cameras continued to roll as he lay there against the wall with his body doing what a body does after taking a bullet through the head. This little sequence horrified me. I had nightmares. I was sick over it. Ever since that scene, I have just become more and more and more sensitive to people being hurt and violence in general. R. Bud Dwyer or birds eggs, it gets me. Sometimes I think God is pulling a Clockwork Orange on ol' Trish. But the R. Bud Dwyer thing, it was a major turning point in my life.

  Children in pain or emotional distress has bothered me since I was very young myself. I never could handle that. And anybody who exploits children in any way should be crucified. That goes without saying, but I said it anyway.

  My chest is still sore every day. Some days sorer then others.

  I have had a new PTP (Personal Trish Policy) in effect for about two months now. At first, not too well defined but now it is in stone. No new pictures of Trish by anybody, any place at any time. I know how things go with me. Now that I am out in the world full time, I just don't want to know what other people are seeing. It is working and I do not want to jinx that. I don't want to see a picture and think, "Holy shit. That is what I am looking like?!?" No more pictures for a while. I am not sure how long a while.

  My quitting smoking day is now officially on the calendar. I am not going to say what day this will happen as that is bad karma for me. I will write of it when I am successfully two months or so off cigarettes.

   

  Anyway, most everything right now is good, slow as molasses, but good.
  Trish

Tuesday, May 20th, 2003

• I was on my way out to the patio...

  ...this morning and there was a pretty good sized rattlesnake just outside the door. Mom said that we can't have it living out there and so it had to be destroyed. I couldn't let Mom do it, so I took a shovel and had to kill it myself. I can't tell you how upset I am. I had to take one of those "go around the corner to compose myself " breaks after I did it and while I was doing that Mom buried the snake and the head as you are supposed to do. I know that it had to be done, but I never thought that I would have to be the one to kill a snake. It was awful and it was gruesome. I told Mom to please not tell anybody that I did this. This is the only place I can talk about it. I am really disturbed about having to kill the snake. I am gonna go take a nap and try to forget about it for a while. This is a really awful feeling.

  I had five more kind of intense fillings at the dentist yesterday. I was in the chair for over two hours being drilled and filled. Next Monday I have an appointment for a cleaning.

  I have electrolysis this Thursday and an appointment with my endocrinologist on Friday.

  Nap time.

   

  
  Trish

Saturday, May 31st, 2003

• Yes yes yes yes yes...

  ...Yesterday "the letter" was mailed from my therapist to the surgeon I have selected to perform my Gender Reassignment surgery. The letter that states: "Trish is a nutcase and the only way she is going to leave me alone is if I approve her for GRS. PLEASE just DO IT AND GET HER OUT OF MY HAIR." Well, It doesn't really say that, but I wouldn't care if it did. Whatever works. Actually the letter is just a brief introduction of my history with Gender Identity Disorder, that I do indeed have GID and what I have done in trying to work/deal with it. It states that I am a good candidate for GRS and that surgery would be in my best interest. You got that right. I also signed a release form that allows my therapist to discuss my GID issues with certain people.

  On Monday I will send the completed Patient Information and Health History forms to the surgeon.

  I am also awaiting a telephone call from a psychologist that my therapist has referred me to for the second letter that the surgeon requires. Yes, the surgeon requires letters from at least two professional sources stating that Trish is not screwing around and this is what she needs. I am told that I will probably need to see this second therapist two or three times. I hope he is not too expensive. No worries. Whatever it takes.

  This is so wonderful. This is so scary. This is just so everything.

  On the 16th of this month, I finally received the balance of what was left of the retainer with my divorce lawyer. So, I guess this closes that chapter of my life. I hope I never need him again, and he probably hopes the same thing. There was $325 of the original $3000 left. So I am that much richer, until I pay my Visa bill, then I am that much poorer. Oh well.... Things are working. I do owe him a thank you of sorts. He negotiated for my surgery (money), even though neither one of us knew it at the time. So, thank you Mr. Lawyer.

  Let's see here... Oh man, this is going to make me seem so OLD. Thirty years ago I had my left ear pierced. That was back in the days when a guy was taking his life in his hands to have a pierced ear. At that time I only knew of one other guy who had his ear pierced and he was a gangsta of sorts. He could have worn a tutu and gotten away with it from what I was told. The only other guys who had pierced ears were rock and roller's. That was also in the days that a Registered Nurse had to do the piercing. You couldn't just go to the mall and have it done. So I went to this jewelry store that I looked up in the yellow pages that advertised ear piercing to have it done. When this long hair kid (me) walked into the place and said, "I want to have my ear pierced", the man behind the counter yelled to a guy who also worked there, "Hey, tell this kid what happened when you pierced your ear!" The reply yelled back was, "I got my ass kicked!" He had removed his I guess for obvious reasons. "Gee mister, I am real scared now, but can I have my ear pierced anyway?" And history was made. A lot of my friends thought it was fake when they saw it. They thought I would go through the trouble of gluing on a fake stud rather then actually having my ear pierced.

  Then about six or seven years later, I had a second hole done in that same ear. I had this one done at May Company at the same time that my future wife had both her ears pieced. She had never had them done, so we agreed that I would pay for hers, and she would pay for mine. Actually, they were our form of engagement rings as we had agreed that if we were still together after a year, we would marry. Kind of a poor mans engagement ring thing goin on there. Ear piercing for guys by that time was much more acceptable, an RN was not required to perform the piercing, but it was still not totally cool with "the establishment". Well, joke em if they can't take an F.

  Then in 1985 when I was becoming more serious about Trish, or maybe Trish was becoming more serious about me, I had my right ear pierced in two places. This time I had gone to a beauty salon. They looked at me like I was a little weird, but they did it with no problem. It was not in a big town. By this time I had moved to a much smaller community. For work I had taken the two out of my left ear and told my fellow employees that they had become infected and as I did not want to go without pierced ears, I pierced the right ear while the left healed. God forbid they find out about Trish.

  Anyway.... Some time later I had put Trish back into the closet with myself and taken the studs out of my right ear and only the left remained. Then some time later still, Trish came back (are you following this?) out of my closet and I wanted my ears back. The top hole in my right ear had closed up, but the bottom one had only kind of closed in the back so I forced a stud right through it. Man, did THAT hurt. But I wanted it bad, so I got brave for a few minutes.

  So for about the last sixteen or so years I have had two earrings in my left ear and one in my right. Being in the closet for much of that time, I did not always have anything in the right ear, but the hole was there.

  "Trish, are you going somewhere with this?"
  Yeah, yeah I am. Be patient.

  Well, as I was having my face needled by electrolysis on Wednesday, I decided it was time to put another hole back into my right ear so it would match my left ear. So Thursday I went down to a mall to have it done. Nice mall. The little piercing place is right in the middle of the bottom level, one of those little jewelry places that sits alone like a little island. I was a little nervous. This was the first time I was to ever be up close and personal with somebody who doesn't know about me. If they read me as physical male, fine, I am not totally worried about it, but I of course naturally hoped that wouldn't happen. Well, I went in and sat down, the ear pierce girl did what she had to do, studied me somewhat looking to try and make the holes symmetrical, marked my ear where she would pierce it, had me approve it, pierced it and all was cool. I do not think that she read me at all. We made a little conversation, I paid, said thank you, she gave me a discount club card, and I was off.

  I hung around the mall for a while just kind of window shopping and had seen her again a few times with her boyfriend as I guess she had gotten off work and was hanging out too. She never gave me "those looks" and never did anything like whisper to her boyfriend and point at me. You know the drill. So this might say one of a few things. She thought I was genetic female, or else the world is just a lot more loose about such things then it used to be. And what else is really cool about the whole thing is I do not have to lie about why I have both ears pierced and I no longer lean a little more to the left then the right when I am walking, and... they are purdy.

  "Jeez Trish... That was long enough of a story just to say you had your ear pierced."
  You don't have to read it.
  "Trish, I was there."
  Stop that... Yer givin me the creeps.
  "As a matter of fact, I'm there right now. Call me."
  What?
  "CALL me."
  Oh shit.... It's Lost Highway!
  "I knew that would get ya."

  I guess I should stop writing about this being read/passing stuff as it is getting kind of old, except this one was real up close, and I still do not take the fact that I am able to successfully blend in for granted. I mean, whether I do or don't at this point is kind of moot because the train isn't going to stop now, but I am still just amazed (understatement) and happy (understatement) about it.

  Oh, one more thing and I then will let it go, when I was at the dentist last week for a cleaning, they referred to me as "her" more then once. Now that amazes me as my chart is obviously going to say M for male at this point. Her.... that is wonderful. I have two more appointments scheduled in the next two weeks for "deep cleaning". I guess they numb one side of your mouth and clean the heck out of it and then the next time they do the same to the other side. And she told me when they finish that, they will give me a really pretty set of scented candles. I told ya, this place is cool, for a dentist.

  "Do they give sissy candles to the girls and like a football shaped key chain to the guys, Trish?"
  Ha, I don't know. They probably give candles to everybody, although I really don't see guys saying, "Oh wow, let's get this cleaning done! I want those candles!"

  I went to my endocrinologist appointment last Friday and all is well. I received the results of my blood work and they are perfect, and in some aspects better then perfect. Thank you Mr. Alcoholic Liver God. I don't know how or why you recovered so well, but thank you. My weight is steady at 133 to 135 and my blood pressure is good. My endo said that should the EMLA® for electrolysis situation become critical, he would work with me to find a solution that would work. I have another appointment in three months.

  When I go to bed I am still seeing those car accidents and people being hit by cars when I am in that space between awake and asleep. It happens about every third night, not as much as it was happening, but it is still going on. I have for the most part been able to open my eyes just in time, just as I start to see a traffic scene start. I wish I knew why this was happening. It is very frightening and very violent.

  There is an older woman who lives with her husband further on up the hill from us. She recently had an incident that required hospitalization and immediate surgery. My Mom had given her a ride to the hospital and then a ride back home as the woman's husband is himself convalescing. Well yesterday the woman had come over with a thank you gift for my Mom. A big ol' bottle of scotch and a book with the title: Trans-Sister Radio. I guess this is a work of fiction and one of the main characters is transsexual. My Mom's friends are so cool. They really try to understand and to help. And I had not even met this woman until yesterday.

  Lot's happening. More real soon....

   

  You'll pierce your right ear, pierce your heart here,
  this skinny boy is one of the girls.
  Anderson/Butler

Sunday, June 8th, 2003

• As I said I would...

  ...do, last Monday my completed Patient Information and Health History forms were mailed to the surgeon who I wish to perform my GRS. His office should now have all the documentation required to set a date for surgery. I will be calling them tomorrow to discuss the ($$$) deposit and a surgery date.

  I have not yet talked to the therapist who I will see to obtain the secondary letter that the surgeon requires. But there is time for that as the surgeon does not require the second letter right away. As long as he has what he does have from me at this time, all can move forward. No worries on that front.

  Yesterday I received more documentation from my name change lawyer. The newspaper ad for my name change ran last month. The court date is on for mid July and all is good.

  I had that deep cleaning at the dentist last Thursday. They did the right side of my mouth. This Tuesday they will do the left side. Scented candles, here I come. After that is done, I am not sure what they are going to do next, but there is much more to do. By this time I would think my body would be getting immune to novocaine (God forbid) I have had so much of it pumped into me.

  I masturbated Friday. It is pretty easy to keep count. In the past 12 months, I have masturbated five or six times. I only write this because, well, before I started Hormone Replacement Therapy, the need to masturbate was just about never-ending.

  "Woof woof! Down boy! Down!"
  Shush, you.

  But now? Sure, it is a desire, but not like it was. Now whether to masturbate or not is a choice and not a ball and chain. This I am liking very much. After surgery, if my nerve endings are kept intact (which is not a guarantee), I am looking forward to finally enjoying the act of masturbation "the right way". I know that sounds kind of weird, but as I have written before like what, a hundred times? It never felt right with male genitalia. Maybe after surgery, it will feel right. I am betting it will. Stay tuned.

  Don't read to much into that last paragraph or try to psychoanalyze it. It just is what it is.

  Friday the Sixth of June was my Seven Year Sobriety Birthday. Yay. Sober for seven years. I don't have much to say about that other then at least I am not completely homeless or serving time due to addiction. Oh, and one more thing: This transition, this coming out, this could never have been done while drinking or using. There is just no way. This is just too serious and way too complicated to even think about doing if I were addicted anything. Drink a couple bottles of vodka and try to thread a needle. Then you might understand. And that is not even addressing the internal issues that must be dealt with. Those issues would be impossible to deal with while using and no credible therapist would ever assist a person in transition until the addiction issue was taken care of first.

  My therapist knows all and I mean everything about me (except for that one eensie little thing that was done to me as a child that I think may have started my fetish that I am finding too difficult to discuss.... for now). It is about total honesty and nothing short of total, sometimes throw up inspiring honesty. We are not talking about "confessing" all your sins to a therapist, we are talking about honesty period and if you cannot do that, and I know you can't do that while using, then hang it up until you are clean.

  Anyway, seven years sober and the clock keeps ticking.

  I keep documentation in my purse at all times that I might (I sure hope not) need to convince somebody that might need convincing that Trish is for real. The envelope is getting thicker and thicker all the time. It is the TPT (Trish Paper Trail). Trish has a history. This is one good reason that following the Harry Benjamin Standards of Care has been a good plan (that I just kind of fell into with the right therapist). Nobody can say that Trish just upped yesterday morning and said, "Hey, I have a dress on. I am a woman and you will treat me as such..... by crackee." TPT or not, you still don't have to accept me as a woman or anything else for that matter, that is for sure. But at least I am doing all that I can do to show to the world that I am not transitioning for fun and games. Ha, fun and games. Yeah, that's what this has all been babee: Fun and games. Hopefully one day the world doesn't have to know diddley about the TPT anyway.

   

  Now I am going to take a shower, then go out to
  buy a Diet Coke®. I have not had one
  for about two days and I am going to go bonkers.
  Diet Coke® is evil.
  Trish

Sunday, June 29th, 2003

• I have a...

  ...date with Gender/Genital/Sexual Reassignment Surgery, whichever title suits your fancy. The down payment has been made and the date in January 2004 is mine.

  The second letter that the surgeon requires is on it's way to him, with a copy going to my primary therapist and another to myself. This past Friday I met with the therapist that wrote that letter for me. I enjoyed meeting with him, very much.

  I also this past Friday met with my son's therapist, the one I used to see some time back. I wanted to let her know what was going on in my life in an effort to help her understand what might or might not be going on with my son when it comes to our relationship. As usual she was very supportive and she is pretty sure that he will handle all of this well. You can just never know absolutely.... Anyway, that was a stressful non-stressful Friday, if you know what I mean. And again, lots of mileage on the car. Sixteen hour trip.

  With all of that said and although I am more then excited, elated, relieved, just all of those things about my surgery, I won't believe that it actually going to happen until it is said and done. And as my friend "F" pointed out to me last night, there are many challenges awaiting me after surgery. Many.

  "...and I suppose I am going to hear about every one of them."
  If yer good.

  But I thank "F" and others for helping to keep me grounded, more or less.

  I will fill in all the details post surgery. For me, this is a pretty private affair. I know of some that inform just about everybody on the planet exactly when surgery is going to happen, who is performing it, etc. etc.... For them, this is probably a good thing. For me, like I say, it is a pretty private affair. It wouldn't be too hard to figure it all out, and I am not trying to hide it, I am just not wanting to advertise it. Well, in actuality I want to scream it to the world, but there will be time for that if I choose to.

  From this Transition Diary entry it doesn't seem as though that much is going on, but all of this is so time consuming. It has required/requires many many telephone calls, other communications and coordinating. For every sentence I write, many actions could have taken place.

  My primary therapist is out of town until August. This will be quite a stretch for me. I am not going to see him again until August 6th. He is always available for crisis management though. Fortunately, there has not been a crisis for some time (knock on wood).

  I will be starting genital electrolysis a week from Wednesday. Stay tuned, this is either going to be slightly traumatic for me, or barely a blip on the radar. Seeing as I have no radar at my disposal, I am leaning towards the slightly traumatic side. We will see. Genital electrolysis is to ensure that post surgery, you have no hair growing where no hair would normally naturally grow on a genetic female, in case you were wondering about that. Electrolysis promises to be a longer day now as we will be doing both above the collar bone and below. I cannot let one slide for the other. My electro person is right with me on this. She has me covered. She has been with me from the beginning of this process and knows me about as well as anybody ever has.

  Now I add in my prayers every night that no emergencies happen in the next six months that will require my remaining finances to be used elsewhere and that my health stays, well, healthy. I already stand to lose a very big amount of money if GRS has to be cancelled for any reason.

  June 16th marked my three year point on Hormone Replacement Therapy. I am not going to do my usual "every six months how do I feel about hormones now" thing.

  "Aw, why not Trish? I love to see you whine about having no chest."
  Ha... You are very funny.

  When it comes to HRT, that is the only thing I would whine about, well maybe that and the horrors of trying to come up with the cash for my hormones. But other then that, I could not be happier with HRT. I could not be happier.

  "What about the libido thing."

  Oh yeah.... Well, I think that for me the issue about libido is that libido in itself is not a bad thing. It is just that the "equipment" that I have to use satisfy the wants of that libido is very undesirable to me and, well.... So I guess the libido is good, but the way I currently have to deal with it is bad. It took me a while to figure that out. I am looking forward to continuing libido, providing my nerve endings are kept intact after surgery. If not, oh well....

  "What about those erections that bother you, Trish. That must be the 'equipment' you speak of."
  Very good, Einstein.

  So I guess other then the horrors of coming up with the cash for hormones, and the no chest and the erections, I could not be happier with HRT. I could not be happier.

  "You got it covered now, Trish?"
  Yeah, I think I got the HRT thing covered for now. Thanks.
  "Snow problem."

  Let's see, where am I at with the dentist. Oh yeah... On Tuesday the tenth I went in for other half of the deep cleaning. Man, there are more teeth on that side, so more novocaine and more fun. But it was not all that bad. After that was finished and we were making another appointment for the final cleaning, my dentist came by and asked how it was going. I told him that I had a tooth still bothering me a little. "Well, our root canal person is here for just a little longer, how about we have her take care of that right now?" he said. Oh man... I was so close to being out the door for the day. Back into the chair for another root canal on the other side of my mouth. More novocaine. Oh that was fun. But, at least it is done. In reality, I am happy about it all.

  Then on the seventeenth I went in to have a few more teeth worked on. It took quite a while and of course... more novocaine. When they were finished I said, "That felt like you worked in FIVE teeth today.".... "Naw, we worked on seven" was the reply. Oh man, again.

  My last appointment for this month was on the 23rd. Two teeth drilled and filled. I go back in on July 10th for the final cleaning (and my scented candles of course) and then again on the 28th for crowns. Crowns? Cool, I am going to be royalty. There might be more appointments to be scheduled in-between these two, I'm not sure yet.

  "Your teeth must have sucked, Trish."
  I TOLD you that.
  "No wonder nobody ever wanted to kiss you."
  Ouch. That hurts, but you are right. There are other reasons also I imagine, and continue to be.

  So, since January 26th I have been to the dentist 15 times. Holee shit. I am extremely lucky to be getting this taken care of and very lucky that I am seeing people that understand that if this is not handled right, they will be peeling me off the ceiling before they can even start working on me.

  In less then three weeks my name will legally be Trish Marie.

  I picked my son up on June 13th and he spent until the 22nd here. We did a lot of nuthin but we did go a few places. We took a night tour of a Wild Animal Park and also spent the day and evening at the County Fair. It was great. He got me to go on rides that I was not real excited about going on. We went in scary rides and on roller coasters, but I drew the line at anything that would put us in an upside down position. It was a lot of fun (yikes) and of course, just having him near me whether doing nothing or having the shit scared out of us was great.

  Wanna hear about the undies I bought at Victoria's Secret?
  "No."
  Then how about the pineapple-berry body lotion I bought at The Perfumery.
  "No."
  Wanna hear about the leather purse that I would almost kill for at the Coach® Factory Outlet Store ?
  "No."
  That means you are a wise person, whoever you are. And that also means there is no more to write for this time around.

  Unless, um.... DidItellyouthatIamgoingtohaveGRS???
  "I think you did mention that, Trish."
  UmdidItellyouthatIamsoexcitedthatIcanbarelycontainmyselfandIjustwishallofthistobedonewith?
  "No, but I assumed it."
  Okay... good deal then.

   

  And I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh Lord.
  I've been waiting for this moment all my life, oh Lord.
  Phil Collins