b a c k g r o u n d c o l o r

Saturday, July 12th, 2003

Thursday, July 17th, 2003

  • Progress...

    The following is a ruling for XX/XX/XX,
    Department X, the Honorable Xxxxxx Xxxxxxx presiding.

    Case Number XXXXXX

    Petition for name change is granted. Petitioner shall submit a proposed decree to the court for the court's signature forthwith. If Petitioner seeks a certified copy of the decree and is submitting the decree by mail, Petitioner shall include a self-addressed stamped envelope for return of the copy. The cost for a certified copy is $6.60.
    IT IS SO ORDERED.


    Trish

Friday, July 18th, 2003

  • I read quite a...

    ...few personal diaries on the Internet almost daily. These dairies are written by people from all walks of life, and from many different locales in this growing smaller all the time world. They are written by men, women, boys, girls and some are even written through the eyes of pet owners imagining what their animal friends would say if they were able. Is this wonderful or what? It is for all of us what used to be a very rare if ever privilege, peeking into a persons innermost thoughts, desires, pains, joys, loves , hates, relationships, just everything.

    Reading these words on the Internet is like coming into procession of a persons velvet covered gold leaf paged personal diary, or in most cases probably a tattered dog-eared book filled with what were once blank pages but now jam packed with a world of thoughts, and all kept secret by a tiny locket and hidden in a drawer or under a pillow. Procession of such in days past was most likely only accomplished through mischief or slanderous thievery.

    At this time in my life as I "transition from male to female", I personally feel so fortunate that I have this opportunity, this medium to share my thoughts with others, and that they allow me a glimpse or more into theirs.

    It is in some ways like having a big sister, a mom, a grandmother or a best girlfriend that shares everything with me. It is the chance to be able to share with the youngest to the oldest the things that I was not able to share as I grew up male. Special? No doubt. I cannot say just how special.

    "Okay, drop the Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm writing style and just get to it, Trish."
    Alright.

    Photographs.

    I have read some peoples online diaries for many moons now. These diaries are where they place their words. Most do not have photos. I picture after a time in my head what each person looks like. For their diaries photos of themselves are not necessary. It is not their goal to have me know what they look like, it is their goal to share their feelings with me. It is their primary goal to have me to know them, not their physical features, although they do sometimes choose to describe appearance through words.

    At this time in my life I have a website on the Internet. On this website I have photos of me. A person such as myself transitioning from one gender to the other (or whatever it is I am doing) will sometimes have thousands of photos, some will have one and some like myself will have three or four. I am almost embarrassed at times to have them there. I feel like folks will think I might be saying to them, "Hey, aren't I pretty? Don't I look just like a girl?"

    Well, that is not the purpose.

    I swear.

    No, really.

    No really. I swear it.

    "I think Trish doth protest too much."
    Ha ha. You funny thang, you. We both know I that am the most gorgeous thing you ever laid your eyes on.
    "Uh-huh... *snore*..."
    Yeah, I'm with you on that.

    Anyway, part of the transition from male to female includes a change in appearance. Some are able to do this pretty doggoned successfully, some so damn good you cannot believe it (ack) and some have a very difficult time of it. A person can put much hard work (or money) into physical transition but Mother Nature also plays a huge part. We can help it along a little, but if you ain't lucky in the slightest, you ain't lucky in the slightest. So a segment of this whole transition process is appearance and I think that a few photos of myself help to fill in some of the blanks.

    I love tons of photos of people and things on others personal websites. I love them. I can study them for hours. I like to think of what might have been going on at the time they were taken, the emotions, the good times or the bad, and I also totally love to study bodies and faces. I love all parts of bodies, the curves, the perfection, the imperfection, most everything. I love to peek into peoples homes and their rooms. I look into the back of the photos, to see what is on the walls, the shelves, in the drawers, how they arrange things, the products they use, the deodorant, the toothpaste, the clothes they wear, and the foods they eat.

    "My GOD Trish, you are a voyeur."
    Of sorts, I suppose I am. Photos tell a thousand stories as they say, and I love to read. Deep down I think I'm somewhat of an exhibitionist also.
    "Yes, I know. And I am probably not the only one who does, I mean, look at this place."

    Anyway, I used to have many photos of myself on my website. I no longer do as I felt it had just become too much, or in my particular instance, garish.

    People can get the wrong impression of what my transition is all about.

    "Oh, so you are trying to impress people, Trish? Manipulate them into thinking about you what you wish them to think?"
    Well, no.... and yes.

    I just want people to know even subliminally perhaps that my appearance, although a pretty damn big part of this whole thing is not what this whole deal is about. This all of starts on the inside. It slowly makes it's way out in different forms of expression, but as a good friend of mine says, it is basically an inside job. I don't wish the people that visit my website to think that I am all about the fashion show. Because I am not.

    However, sometimes when placing photos of myself on my website I look at them and think things like, "Oh shit, lemmie see here.... Three of me in a skirt, two in pants... Damn. It is gonna look like I am all about skirts. Better change that... Okay better... Three pants, two skirts.. Yeah... No... Too many photos period... Lose one of the pants, I look like crap in it.... Okay... No wait, now it looks like I wear skirts half the time... Drop a skirt, two pants.. Okay, more accurate. Wait, I look like shit in this one too.. . Drop that one. Oh no wait, that's a pants one.... Damn, now I am in skirts half the time again. Arg."

    I guess I am not immune to a small amount of vanity or nutsitivity in trying to look halfway decent and "balanced".
    "Small part??"
    Okay, big small.

    Anyway, I guess my bottom line is, I love to see tons of other peoples photographs and I dislike many of myself as it may give the wrong impression of what my personal transition is about. But at least a few of me are a necessary part of what it is my website is trying to communicate. Photographs are not entirely accurate at times, but it's a start.

    "....or something like all that there, Trish?"
    Yeah, or something like most all that there. Kind of......

     

    Kodachrome, they give us those nice bright colours,
    they give us the greens of summers, makes you think all the world's a sunny day, oh yeah.
    I got a Nikon camera, I love to take a photograph, so mama don't take my Kodachrome away.
    Simon & Garfunkel

Saturday, August 2nd, 2003

  • Oh now I've...

    ...gone and done it. Nobody is writing personal stuff in their online diaries anymore.

    I just cannot get with it this week. I had a dentist appointment on Monday that was a little rough. I was in the chair for three and a half hours. A few more fillings and a temporary bridge. I had so many novocaine injections I lost count. They gave me vicodin this time around without a request from me. The problem is that with my teeth and gums hurting so bad I didn't eat for like two days and I kept loading the vicodin into my system and that does not work well. As a matter of fact on Tuesday night I realized that I had not taken my hormones and I said screw it, I just cannot put any more pills into my system for the day. I must have felt like shit. I haven't slept well at all. Today is the first day that I woke up not in pain. I hope that holds and is a sign that things are healing. It still hurts though, just not like a raging toothache. And sensitive to the cold? Like a mutha.

    I got down to 128 pounds too. Usually when I lose a few pounds, I will gain a few back but end up hovering at a lower weight then I was before. I like that. I never thought I could get down to 128 pounds. Good deal.

    I go back to the dentist in two weeks for a fitting of a permanent bridge.

    ..and Trish is completely out at the dentist now. I didn't hide me, but my drab name is being used and so they had to wonder what was going on. Well, they know now down to my surgery date. They said that they want to take me out afterward to celebrate my teeth being completed and Trish being further along also. So this is good too. At this point is seems almost silly that somebody would not know who I am, but there are still those pockets of folks who don't. I cannot really think of anymore of them offhand though. None that matter anyway.

    All of the people at the dentist office are so nice, really fun people. There is one person that I wish that I could get to know socially. She seems to be a neat person and I dunno, I just would like to hang with her. But that will never happen anyway as her, her husband and their children are moving out of the country early next year for work I think.

    Oh well. I need to start making some friends around here. It is just not happening though. It is kind of difficult when it is two miles or so to the main road. You don't just bump into people around here. And I don't go to bars, nor do I want to. Something will happen. Something will happen.

    When I was younger, at ten at night I would just be getting ready to go out. Now at ten at night I am practically getting ready for bed. It doesn't have to be that way, it just for now is.

    I was alone here the other day and I heard the doorbell. I answered the door and two twenty something girls were standing there. It turns out that they are those people who bring those religious Watchtower type booklets for you to read. They have been coming by off and on for a long time. They asked by name if my mom was home and I said, "Naw, she is out and about today." They asked me, "Are you her daughter?" Bless your little hearts. I told them that yes I am and they asked my name. I told them Trish and they introduced themselves to me. An enchanted moment in an otherwise less then enchanting week.

    The dreaded genital electrolysis is coming along. So far it has not killed me or my genitals. We have quite a bit cleared already and I am still just using the topical gel to numb the skin a little. It is not pleasant but it so far has not been much more painful then having electro performed on those hairs right under my nose. I am still not saying "Oh THIS is a piece of cake" because I know how electrolysis goes: One week okay, the next is a killer. And I need to trim my pubic hair back even further, all of it. If you have ever whittled your pubic hair down to practically nothing in every little nook and cranny you know what a chore and how iffy this proposition can be. I keep putting it off. But I have to do it because the less hair she has to dig through to get to the ones she is killing etc, the quicker it goes and the more money I save.

    I am still waiting on the documentation from the court and my lawyer that I can take to the Department of Motor Vehicles, the Social Security Administration etc etc for my name change. Damn this shit takes a long time.

    After surgery my transition costs should be less and less. I will probably completely stop taking the Spironolactone and that stuff is expensive. My estradiol intake will be way lessened and hopefully my electrolysis will be winding down. And the trips to have electrolysis performed will be (I pray) spaced further apart and that will save on gas money. I will be putting out way less money every month.

    Last Friday I went to one of those huge multi multi multi screen movie theaters to see The Pirates of the Caribbean with Johnny Be Still My Beating Heart Depp. It rocked. Johnny aside, if you have ever been to one of those theaters on a packed Friday eve, you know what the restroom can be like. I wore (as usual) jeans, tennis shoes and a T-shirt. I used a little lipstick, eyeliner and mascara. No foundation. So I go into the restroom and it is like walking the gauntlet babee. Two hundred stalls and four hundred women and girls. I had no problems. Twice. I pee a lot. Thank you God, not that I pee a lot, but that I had no problems. Now Johnny, git yer ass over here and tell me that I am the only one. Yo ho you scalawag Captain Jack Sparrow impish fox you. Damn.

    If Johnny Depp actually showed up at my door I would probably drop to my knees and start mumbling something like, oh.... "I'm not worthy... I'm not worthy...", and then faint..... dead away.

    Yesterday I three times bumped my upper shin in the same place on the wooden frame corner of my bed. I have a four by three inch bruise that won't quit.

    There is not much more going on and not much more to write which is okay because my get up and go has got up and went, as they say.

     

    I am out of the elevator, through the lobby and out the front doors.
    Thank you Julie.
    Trish

Thursday, August 6th, 2003

  • A little...

    ...stuff about the human body:

    The patellar (knee Jerk) reflex is the thing the doctor checks during our physical. We sit on a table with our legs crossed and he hammers just below our knee-cap. BAM-kick.... BAM-kick. So what's that about.

    "The knee jerk reflex is the simplest of reflexes involving only two neurons - one sensory ('feeling') and one motor ('movement'). When the stretch receptors in the patellar tendon detect that the tendon has been stretched, a sensory neuron in the quadriceps muscle carries an impulse to the spinal cord, where it synapses directly with a motor neuron. If the signal is strong enough, an action potential is generated in the motor neuron, causing a contraction of the quadriceps muscle which extends the leg. This is how the reflex works; now on to its function.

    As you begin to lose your balance from an upright position the patellar tendon which is carrying the load of your weight, is suddenly slack, this causes the patellar reflex to be triggered. The quadriceps violently contract, which launches the body up into the air. This hop gives your body time to get your feet back underneath you. The knee-jerk reflex is a falling reflex that, when we are off balanced, 'kicks' us into the air to help us recover our footing."

    Okay, now the reason I brought that up. Things are just never the way I expect them to be and I guess genital electrolysis is no different. Apparently I have a patellar tendon in my testicles or thereabouts. During genital lectro when my electrologist is getting the hair in certain places, there is this urge or reflex and the leg on the side she is working on just cannot sit still at times. This is really weird. It is rather inconvenient. The poor electrologist needs to brace themselves for danger at the same time they are doing rather delicate and detailed work. Take one of them there rubber mallets to your patellar tendon at your knee and try to keep your leg still. It is very difficult. Oh well. KICK! I'm sorry." KICK! I'm sorry." KICK! I'm sorry." It might do well to practice your apologies in advance.

    I think the work I had done on my teeth Monday before last took it's toll on my body as the electrolysis that was performed yesterday was a little more painful then usual. My teeth were hurting for a week and my gums still do in places. But electro is coming along nicely and we have already cleared quite a bit below my waist. I am encouraged.

    I saw my therapist yesterday for the first time in weeks as he had been on vacation. It was good to get back there. At times it was a rough one though. We approached discussing what was done to me as a child (not by my parents or a peer) that I think was the start of a fetish that I have that I will never accept about myself. I have written of the fetish before. It is harmless and hurts nobody, but I will never accept it and I have grown to hate it for the most part. I still cannot tell him what was done to me. I still cannot talk to anybody about it. I will continue to try.

    I didn't even realize how much discussing this kind of upset me until I got out of there. But that was just a part of yesterdays appointment. No worries. All is good.

    It sure makes for a long day. I was up at five AM, out the door by six AM and didn't get home until ten thirty PM. When I get home my body just buzzes for a while from the driving and the days events. I relish these times that I am able to do what it is I feel I need to do.

    This morning I ran across a website (once again) that takes total advantage of the "transgender" person who is still apparently very much in the closet. The gawd awful clothing and crap that they sell so that you can look your "best female self". The makeup at exorbitant prices and just about worst of all, the "all natural hormones" they sell promising you a womanly figure.

    So there you are, pen and order form in hand, in the closet, motivations being whatever and you are going to finally get what you need.

    Okay.... Let's git ta orderin babee.

    Ultimate beard concealor, a teeny tiny amount: $15
    One cheap ass lipstick, probably bright red which will look like shit on you: $6
    One complete eyeshadow kit with that all important shade of blue: 15$
    Painted nail tips and stick on nail tabs. All the girls at the salon have em. I have seen it: $30
    "Stick on" eyelashes for those long ones you have always "dreamed of having": $6
    Eyeshadow stencil kit for those slender little fem eyebrows with no plucking or waxing required (eyebrow powder not included): $15
    Oh and look, they have eyebrow powder. Cool: $10
    Liquid makeup, who knows what brand it is. A few ounces for $8
    Mascara, again, brand or shade not stated: $6
    12 piece professional brush kit: $15
    "Imposter" perfume: $10
    Face cleansing duo (who knows): $20
    Ooooo and gotta have that pressed powder compact. Brand? Who cares: $9
    OMG! A rhinestone necklace and clip on earring set! (due to availability, styles vary. Yours may be uglier then the ones pictured): $20
    Better get those backup rhinestone earrings too just in case the others break or corrode: $18
    A rhinstone tiara!! I am all over that one, and it even clips to your hair or wig. I hear that not all of them do that. This is a good one: $33

    And now for that womanly body, for reals. I would guess (and a little from my own experience) all to be about a one months supply, if that. (These products all under the same brand name):

    Breast cream. And don't worry, it only grows huge things where you apply it. Keep away from penis: $25
    Beard retardant cream. Uh-huh: $45
    Body hair removal cream. If Nair® didn't do it for ya, this shit won't either: $35
    Triple strength mammary supplement for those full breasts you have only dreamed of. Single ain't enough, double ain't enough. This shit is triple babee: $35
    Of course you need to balance out the rest of your fem body or your huge breasts are going to look kind of funny. Glan supplement for hips, thighs, arms and more. (Arms? More? *Note to self: Find penis skipping formula*): $30

    Oh, and did I mention that none of these last items do shit? I did? Well, they don't. But hey now, we need some clothes:

    Vinyl mini skirt. A must have for business or pleasure: $50
    Hmmmm.... A chamber maids outfit. Practical and sexy. I'll take one: $90
    A basic "bolero" open front top. It says it goes great with the vinyl mini: $45
    Cannot wear the same skirt everyday. Schoolgirl plaid skirt: $58
    Four inch classic pump. (As classic as it gets in this catalog ayway. Again, no brand stated): $60
    I better get the thigh-high boots for balance. Faux(what else) black leather, five inch heel: $95
    Oh man, the fuzzy slippers with two and a half inch heels are only: $45 - CHECK!
    Queen size pantyhose (no brand stated). Better get three. I have heard they can run: $24
    Sexy basic bra. A bra and sexy too? Cool. (no brand stated): $15
    No basic panties offered. I will go with the sheer thong panty. Yeah, like it will fit. Better get two: $30
    I will need breast forms until my breast cream and mammary stuff kicks in with real breasts, hips, thighs, arms(??) and more. "True Nipples" breast enhancers: $189
    One blonde down to chest wig. Well it looks good in the picture, kind of: $52

    They have no purses. I guess they know I won't need one since they will have all my money soon anyway. Skip the purse.

    Finished? Yeah. You are all set now. One or two outfits, makeup, "hormones" for one month, hair, just everything you I need, you *think*.

    Total Price: One thousand one hundred and sixty nine dollars, not including the shipping and handling costs.

    So you have gone to the bank, closed out your account, written your check or purchased a money order and you will send it in to your caring friends at the "I Want To Help You Become The Woman You Were Meant To Be" company. Their slogan? We Care of course. Now you just wait the long days for that discreetly wrapped package to come in the mail. The days drag along and you just hope and pray the company is legitimate because if they are not, you are out one thousand one hundred and sixty nine dollars. And who would you go to if they ripped you off. The truth is they are ripping you off even if you do get the goods. This stuff is all cheaply made garbage and products that don't work or look good on you and probably won't fit unless you have had a lot of experience buying women's clothing through the mail.

    I know. I was there. I know what it is like to be at the mercy of these companies that just "want to help" the "transgender" person to be "the woman they were meant to be". I know some people will always be in the closet. I know that some people will always be at the mercy of these price gouging "transgender" and women exploiting companies. And what really sucks is that means that their business will never dry up. Ebb and flow perhaps, but there will always be the clientele who are in the closet for life, or who are like me and the companies served as a tool to get what I thought I needed at the time, and to help me to eventually discover what it is that I did not need and at what prices. As a matter of fact, these lousy companies probably helped me out of the closet. These companies, they will forever continue to put people in the poorhouse with very little payoff or no payoff whatsoever. Whatever the motivation for people to make purchases from these companies doesn't matter to said companies. Just show them the green.

    I guess there is no answer.

    And don't get me started on items like latex vaginas that enable you to simulate peeing "just like a woman" and "looks like the real thing when worn under tight clothing". And you think genetic women should respect what it is we are doing?? With latex "pee like a woman vaginas" under our clothes? Oh man, I don't even want to go there.

    But I might.... someday.

    Oh, just a little. I cannot help myself. I hope your "pee like a woman latex vagina" plops/drops into the toilet and splashes water all over your butt and then gets flushed out to sea.

    I am still waiting for my name change documentation.

     

    EXTRA! EXTRA! THIS JUST IN!
    "Mutant Great White Shark with vaginal head spotted just offshore!
    Scientists believe caused by global warming!    "
    Okay, forget the flushed part.
    Trish

Friday, August 22nd, 2003

  • Shitty day. Let me...

    ...count the ways.

    1. I was looking forward to having dinner out at a casino tonight and I ain'ta goin cause it is a shitty day and I am pouting/don't feel like being around hundreds of people.

    2. I am getting damn tired of electrolysis. It hurts and costs a lot. I am tired of it.

    3. It has been five weeks and a day since my legal name change was approved by the courts and I still have no paperwork to take to the Department of Motor Vehicles or the Social Security Administration or anyplace else. "The average name change in California takes two months, sometimes a little longer." Oh yeah? Well then fuck me because a little longer seems to be from March 14th to now. So far that is more then five months.

    4. I am sick of the "Transgender Community", mini skirts, panty pictures, attitude and all.

    5. You should at least learn how to spell the shit. Your e-n-d-o-c-r-i-n-o-l-o-g-i-s-t might appreciate it, if you have one.

    6. What the fuck is a CD(crossdresser)/(slash)TS(transsexual).

    7. I have a tooth that hurts today, yesterday and before that. And it is one that was finished.

    8. I want a drink. I want a pill.

    9. I received a lab bill today that I thought I had already paid.

    10. My money is going fast.

    11. I am horny and that is absolutely one hundred percent A #1 by jingo worthless and will not be satisfied. There is just no way.

    12. Yeah, I am fuckin A lucky to be doing what I am doing when it is against all odds but I want it to be for the most part over so I can get on with other things.

    "You have said that before, Trish"
    Yeah, and I will effin A say it again if I want.

    13. There's more but I don't feel like typing. I don't care that I am stopping at lucky 13.

     

    ....anyfuckinway, this is why I am loved
    the world over and tomorrow is another day.
    Trish

Monday, August 25th, 2003

  • This is a...

    ...busy week.

    I picked up my son on Saturday. We went down to see my brother in law and have lunch with he and his long term girlfriend. I had not seen him in two years. It was good.

    Yesterday we went to the movies and saw Uptown Girls. I really didn't care to see it, but it was an okay formula movie. We came home and BBQ'd some big ol' fat hot dogs. I love big ol' fat hot dogs.

    Today and Tuesday we are spending the days and early evenings packing up a friends house for her to move.

    Wednesday I have therapy and electrolysis. Get up at five AM and not back home until 10 PM or so.

    Thursday I have a dentist appointment to put the permanent bridge in, but I have a feeling we will be starting another project as one of my teeth is still aching and I cannot even determine which one it is. I am a woos and that wipes me out for the day. But after that we may be taking my son back home.

    Friday I have an early Endo appointment. Another 5 AM morning.

    Two weeks ago I spent four days and three nights down at my ex wife's house (my old house, where I used to live, before the divorce, all that rot). Mom and I held a garage sale in an effort to unload ourselves of some of her stuff, my stuff, my ex's stuff and God knows who else's stuff. This could have been very stressful as it is in some divorced families I am sure, but we all get along okay. Although believe me, it *is* stressful. The stress hits me from all directions. I won't go into it.

    That is what I am doing this week. Oh, that and waiting for my name change documents. Like it matters.... I have no time to follow up on that this week anyway.

     


    Trish

Friday, August 29th, 2003

  • From Merle...

    ...Haggard and Trish:

      I hear people talkin' bad,
      about the way we have to live here in this country.
      Harpin' on the wars we fight,
      an' gripin' 'bout the way things oughta be.
      An' I don't mind 'em switchin' sides,
      an' standin' up for things they believe in.
      When they're runnin' down my country, man,
      they're walkin' on the fightin' side of me.

      Yeah, walkin' on the fightin' side of me.
      Runnin' down the way of life,
      our fightin' men have fought and died to keep.
      If you don't love it, leave it:
      Let this song I'm singin' be a warnin'.
      If you're runnin' down my country, man,
      you're walkin' on the fightin' side of me.

      I read about some squirrely guy,
      who claims, he just don't believe in fightin'.
      An' I wonder just how long,
      the rest of us can count on bein' free.
      They love our milk an' honey,
      but they preach about some other way of livin'.
      When they're runnin' down my country, hoss,
      they're walkin' on the fightin' side of me.

    I am not soldier material. I could not handle it, I don't think. I thank God that there are those who have the courage that I don't think I could ever have. Support our soldiers, our country, and just be damn thankful that other peoples husbands, wives, fathers, sisters, brothers and children are fighting and dying so that mine, yours and you can work, sleep and have fun in relative safety, not to mention, for some of us, transition. Thank God if it is not your loved one that it is in harms way and pray for those whose are.

    I don't want to get politcal. My Transition Diary is is not the place for that. But I am just sick tired of "spoiled and oblivious to the fact that there are people out there that want you and your children dead and bloodied just because you are an American and for no other reason" people whining about what is going on these days. Support your GD country one way or another or find the doorway out. There are lots of em. Just ask any illegal alien. Bitching and whining is not the same as doing something about your "convictions". And marching ala the 60's is a bunch of bullshit too. Most did it just so they could say, "I was there man, it was beautiful." Beautiful huh... Where in the fuck did it get anybody. What in the fuck did it do except use precious resources such as police and fire that were probably desperately needed in other areas. But it was probably a good excuse to wear a dress in public, or for some of you, a bikini.

    Any innocent person being hurt or killed in the name of anything is incomprehensible, an abomination, but it is us or them. If you want it to be us, then go over there with them. Please, just go.

    And try to transition in another one of these countries that you feel so badly for. Go out into the square with a dress on. You want love? The only love you will get is a rusty AK-47 shoved up your pritty little ass. Maybe the fact that they will do it with a smile will get you all soft and gooey inside. Oh you will be soft and gooey inside, but it will be from the effects of a 7.62x39 round ricocheting around inside your body and not that fuzzy warm "feel good marches" feeling you so seem to crave.

    Try being a genetic woman period in some of those places. Wake the fuck up.

    And please quit putting down on patriotism like it means patriotism is being a little American android running around singing God Bless America. Unlike you insinuate, patriotism is not about freedom fries or flag waving or kissing your government's ass or anything like that. To me patriotism is about standing by your country through thick and thin. Patriotism is about voting and getting out there and attempting to change the things you disagree with. It is not about going out in the street in a bikini waving a banner that says "War is not the answer" with no banner that states what you think the answer is. That is not patriotism. Freedom of speech yes, but try using that freedom of speech in a country without a Bill of Rights and *then* it might really *mean* something. Put your ass on the line. Patriotism is knowing that the timing of those marches was way off the mark. Patriotism is about finding solutions and trying to make them work. It is not about whining a bitching. And patriotism is not about sitting silently by while people are putting down on us. You need not come off as Joe American, but to sit by and listen to that crap without saying squat is some shit.

    Fuck freedom fries. Fuck all that stupid stuff. And fuck your whining and bitching if that is all you will ever do. Find Alec Baldwin and Barbara Streisand et al. I hear there is extra room in their suitcases for your bikini. Oh no wait, I forgot. They are just full of hot shit air and are not leaving the country as they have so often said they will do if this or if that, just like so many full of hot air people out there. Barbara and Alec know which side of the world their bread is buttered on.

    And if you believe so strongly that what The United States is doing at this time is wrong and all you are going to do is bitch, moan and threaten to leave it, then by all means, leave. But do us all a favor, don't come fucking back when things here start looking better to you. Take the bad with the good or stay the fuck out.

    Sure, you can poke a few holes in what I just wrote, some of you are good at that, but you know what I mean.

    "Finished Trish?"
    Yeah. How bout you Merle, finished?
    "Um... Trish... Merle is not here. He doesn't even know you exist."
    Oh yeah... Well I hope he keeps at it for a long time to come.

    Other stuff......
    Tuesday we moved an entire household from bed to washer and dryer to all furniture and clothes. Wednesday I had electro and therapy. On the way home my car went kind of wacky. Yesterday at the dentist I had the permanent bridge put in and then drove my son home. So for this week I have driven approximately 1,100 miles. I was supposed to have my Endo appointment this morning but between my car going wacky and myself being slightly exhausted I rescheduled for September 19th.

    I made an inquiry early yesterday to my lawyer as to why my name change documentation is taking so long to get to me. I have not heard back yet.

    Trish's Hint of the Day: Do not wear your good underwear on genital electrolysis days. There could be small amounts of blood involved.

    I am at 128 pounds. I like that.

    Tonight I think I am actually going to go to that casino for dinner.

     

    Remember 911.
    Support Our Soldiers,
    their families and our country.
    The United States is far from perfect, but we are alive and we are free.
    Trish

Wednesday, September 3rd, 2003

  • Oh man... Yeeeeeee HAW...

    ...Ladies and Gentlemen... entlemen... emen... men... en... Pardners and Pardettes... ardettes... edettes... dettes... ttes... Children of all ages... all ages... ll ages... ages... ges...

    The winner of this years Dental Chair Offish-ee-al Rodeo Extravaganza... ravaganza... vaganza... ganza... za... is none other then Nine... Nine... ine... ine... ne... Toed Trish-Marie!... ish-Marie!... Marie!... arie!... rie!...

    Looks like I win.

    It used to be 9 Toothed Trish-Marie, but thanks to the persistence of a family member, the wonderful staff at the dentists office, the dentist himself and a little guy that goes by the name of Mr. Valium, my bridgework was put in (as I wrote before) and I am back to 9 Toed Trish. So, the sum total of dentist visits since Sunday January the tenth is, drum roll please...... nineteen. I can still taste the novocaine. Nasty aftertaste that stuff. I totally fought going to the dentist because of the costs (I need the money for GRS), the pain and most of all my phobia/paranoia of dentists. I am still very apprehensive and spooked, but with the continued help of Mr. Valium and the staff of the office, I will be back for a cleaning and hopefully a teeth whitening Monday, October 13th. Money *might* be an issue. My Mom has totally helped me out. So we will see when the time comes.

    And now my mouth is once again very kissab... er, in great shape and that is wonderful.... But howz about this: For my Dental Graduation the staff gave to me: A $30 gift certificate for a super nice Italian restaurant and a gift basket of Bath & Body Works® all in (oh MAN oh man) warm vanilla sugar. That is my second all time favorite fragrance right behind Obsession® and just before strawberry anything. The basket contains body lotion, moisturizing hand lotion, moisturizing hand gel, shower gel, body splash and last but not least deep cleansing hand soap, all in a beautiful little basket. And let me tell ya, these are not sample sizes, these are the full on full size products. Man oh man oh man oh. Damn I smell good. I just wish I could smell good for somebody besides myself.

    "Trrrriiiiisssshhhh.... For somebody besides yourself? Stop that."
    Yeah, you are right, Bonzo.
    "Heeeeyyyyy... Wasn't Bonzo a monke..."
    Anyway...

    I still have a couple teeth that hurt like hell when anything cold hits them, but the dentist said to give it a few weeks and then let him know how it feels. Wellsir, the Dental Chair Rodeo may not be completely over, but most of the bulls have been put out to pasture for the time being.

    "Trish, youareboringmetotears."
    I know. You love it when I am pissed off.
    "Well....."
    Okay, well then you won't be disappointed, Bo Jangles.
    "Bo Whositz?"

    As I wrote last Friday, on the day before I had made an inquiry to my lawyers office as to just what might be delaying the delivery of the court name change documents.

    "Bo Who??"

    And the email to my lawyer wenteth thusly:

    Hi Xxxxx,
    It has been quite a long time since the petition was granted. I was wondering where we stood with it as I have received no documentation to get the ball rolling with the DMV and the SSA name change.

    Any updates?

    Thanks,
    Trish Xxxxx

    Yesterday, Tuesday I received the following via email:

    "Our records reflect that the decree was sent to you on July 30, 2003. If you didn't receive, please verify your address and we will re-send."

    July thirtieth? JULY THIRTIETH???? Over a month ago?? And let me tell ya, this communication was not as personal and friendly as all past communications have been. Now, for example, since the Department of Motor Vehicles in California will not accept seeing anything other then the original court document before they will approve the name change on my drivers license (they will not even accept a notarized copy) I have to wonder just what in the hell my lawyer is going to "re-send" to me. Gee, could it be they are full of shit and never sent the original in the first place? Or could it be that I have to wait another few weeks for them to acquire another original document from the courts? Wouldn't the first one be lost somewhere in Snail Mail Land now? They always in the past had emailed to tell me that they had sent this or that by conventional mail, and always wanted confirmation that I had received it. I never received any communications regarding July 30th.

    Sounds like they think I am a pair of soiled undies and they are being nice enough to take me to the cleaners.

    "Eeeeewwww, Trish. That is so gross."
    Hold onto your horses Little Lord Fauntleroy...
    "Fauntleroy?"

    The last statement they sent to me indicated that I still have $19 left in the retainer. Woo hoo! (woo hoo is an Internet exclamation, translating to happiness, excitement or joy) Money left over! The timing of the statement meant that I would actually get $19 back after all was said and done. Now, how much do ya want to bet that I will end up owing them another $200 for this little "mix up". Lawyers. Damn. Of course the jury is still semi out on this one until I find out how it all ends, but I am thinkin that Trish is being "lawyer'd" again. Oh well. At least I will be a broke Trish instead of a broke (insert drab name here). Yay. No really, I am happy about that.

    But overall regarding the whole situation I am a little pissed (so far).

    How's that, Sundance? Pissed enough for ya?
    "Oh much better. Carry on, do carry on."
    That's all there is.
    "Then I shall await the next outburst with baited breath. And who the Hell is Sundance then??"
    Ha ha ha. Don't cuss.

     

    "C'mon Trish! Who is Sundance???"
    HA HA HA. Oh man.
    Trish

Friday, September 5th, 2003

  • I wrestled...

    ...with myself a bit as to whether I should make this entry or not. I don't like to appear to be making fun of people or betray any confidences. Well I decided to make the entry, just to illustrate one way that I and some others who gender transition (in a less then completely private way) are seen by a lot of folks.

    This e-mail I received is the epitome of quite a few I have received in recent years:

    Date: Fri, 5 Sep 2003
    From: xxxxxx@xxxxxx.xxx
    Subject: Trish_Profile
    To: MeTrish@aaaaaaemail.com

    im in xxxxxx lets talk im 6'4" 245 and would like to take you to truck stop motel. please get back if you are still lookijng

    (insert his name here)

    In all fairness, this person was responding to a profile that I had filled out on the Internet a few years ago, a profile that I had forgotten about. It was in an effort at that time to make contact with others, perhaps make some friends. It is kind of embarrasing but it is still pretty much all true, and here it is:

    (My Photo Is Here. Just a regular ol' photo, nothing suggestive.)

    Likes:
    I love the lights of big cities... Especially at night!! I love the idea of things to come and the cool night air... My favorite time of day is dusk, the end of a beautiful day and the start of a hopefully wonderful evening.. Flowers don't hurt my feelings... I truly love self acceptance and being accepted by others... Yeah..

    Dislikes:
    Fakes, dishonesty and mean people.

    Hobbies:
    I love my computer. I love the path that I have decided to finally follow in my life... Takes a LOT of my spare time...:)

    Pretty hokey, huh?
    "'I love the lights of big cities... Especially at night!!'? Can we be a little more redundant. Trish?"
    Okay okay.....

    But it is completely innocent. I guess my brain was working one way and Mr. I Know What You Want Truck Man's brain is working another way:

    What I Mean: I love the lights of big cities...
    His Translation: Neon motel lights somewhere on Route 66 in Omaha...

      What I Mean: Especially at night!!
    His Translation: The part of the 24 hour cycle when a lot of people fuck each other!!

      What I Mean: I love the idea of things to come and the cool night air...
    His Translation: I love the idea of things to CUM and nighttime outdoor fucking...

      What I Mean: My favorite time of day is dusk,
    His Translation: Check in time!

      What I Mean: the end of a beautiful day and the start of a hopefully wonderful evening.
    His Translation: I cannot wait to have somebody wonderfully fuck me tonight, after being fucked beautifully all day.

      What I Mean: Flowers don't hurt my feelings...
    His Translation: Trish doesn't charge cash...

      What I Mean: I truly love self acceptance and being accepted by others...
    His Translation: Accept me fuck me accept me OH DEAR GOD PLEASE FUCK ME...

      What I Mean: I dislike fakes, dishonesty and mean people.
    His Translation: Please don't lie to me about your penis size.

      What I Mean: I love my computer. I love the path that I have decided to finally follow in my life... Takes a LOT of my spare time...:)
    His Translation: Fucking every other guy that writes an e-mail to ya keeps a girl busy...:)

    Really, did what I write in my little "T-Girl" profile, give any indication that I wanted to be defiled? In bug infested bedsheets? In some sleazy little motel out in the desert? If I am "still looking"? Where did I say I was "looking" for anything. This is just what some people think when they see: transsexual.

    ..and I know why Mr. Truck Driver thinks he has got what I need and thinks he knows what I am about. Enter the word "transsexual" in any Internet search engine and see what comes up. We are not seen as individuals and the "Gender 'We Must All Hang Together Or We Will Surely Hang Alone' Community" does not help at all. My profile is the profile of an i-n-d-i-v-i-d-u-a-l. I am not making fun of Mr. Truck Driver but had Mr. Truck Driver not been sold into "The Gender Community" being all the same as so many within "The Gender Community" insist we are, he might have seen that. I am not picking on Mr. Truck Driver, he just illustrates some of the shit we go through when we put on women's clothing in an effort to be seen as who we feel we are.

    I am sure that about one million other "T-Girls" received this same exact cut and paste e-mail.

    Please don't misunderstand. Through the years I have received many wonderful communications via e-mail and made lot's of friends, but Mr. Truck Driver does represent a lot of folks notions about who or what I am.

     

    Ah, 10-4, Pig Pen, what's your twenty?
    OMAHA? Well, they oughta know what to do with them hogs out there fer shure.
    Well, mercy sakes, good buddy, we gonna back on outta here,
    so keep the bugs off your glass and the bears off your... tail.
    We'll catch you on the flip-flop. This here's the Rubber Duck on the side.
    We gone. 'Bye,'bye.
    C.W. McCall

Monday, September 8th, 2003

  • Received today...

    From: My Lawyer
    To: Trish Marie Xeeeee
    Sent: Monday, September 08, 2003 9:45 AM
    Subject: Name Change Documentation

    Re-sending today (9/8/03) If you don't receive within a few days, please let us know.

     

    We'll see what happens.
    Trish

Tuesday, September 9th, 2003

  • Just an update. Today I received...

    ...the name change decree from the court. I don't know what is going on, how I received it so fast or whatever, but I have it in my hot little hands at this moment. Now I just have to squeeze a day in for the Department of Motor Vehicles and the Social Security Administration when I can shave my face totally clean.

    I am letting my facial hair grow out right now. I have electrolysis this Friday. I can shave on that day but then I have electro again the following Wednesday so I will not be shaving until then. Arg. So next Wednesday electro, Thursday the DMV and then Friday I have an endocrinologist appointment. Gonna be busy days.

    I could go to the DMV tomorrow if I really wanted to. Everybody tells me that they cannot see the hair on my face. But *I* can see it. Drat it all. Oh well. It will happen.

    Today is once again my father's birthday. Has it really been a year? Does he have to have one every single year? I don't like September 9th, but if he were around, I would say Happy Birthday Dad. I want him to have a good one. I hope he is having a good one.

    I had dinner out last night with my Mom and a friend of ours. Mexican food. That was good. I am not going to write of "absolutely no problems getting along in the world presenting as female" as I have in the past. For right now, I will just consider it a given and thank my lucky stars. If in the future there is a problem I will write of it here. Otherwise it can just be assumed (there is that word) that all is well with Trish presenting as female full time. Oh, and yes, our friend knows my history. Not quite stealth.

     

    Like I could pull stealth off.
    HA HA HA.
    Not a chance.
    Trish

Thursday, September 18th, 2003

  • Welp...

    ...today I went to the Department of Motor Vehicles and the Social Security Administration with my court ordered name change decree.

    Let me just preface this entry with a little people information. In my experience today I dealt with the following people:

    The DMV: One security officer, the man who helped me at the window, a women who assisted him to assist me and the young guy who took the photograph for my drivers license.

    The SSA: One security officer and the woman at the window.

    The County Courthouse: One police officer, one woman in the Civil Claims Department, two women in the Records Department and a woman at the cashier.

    In every instance I was greeted with smiles, treated with nothing but respect, addressed in the feminine (even after showing my current male drivers license when requested) and given really good personal service. No problems whatsoever with any personnel or anybody doing their business along side of me. I am not trying to plug anything here and I am not on a pink cloud, I am just saying, man, all the years you put this off because you are worried about what people think, and they end up being as civil and nice as can be. Maybe it is just the times.....

    I went to the DMV first and arrived without an appointment at 7:30 AM when they opened. I acquired the necessary paperwork to fill out and before I could even complete it I was called up the window. The man behind the window asked for my court ordered name change decree. I gave it to him and he said "Great, that's all I need". Then he said would be back in a moment and went to speak with somebody. I could see that he went to discuss something with a woman at a desk in the center of the office. After a minute or two she got up and started coming in my direction with him following close behind. "Oh shit" I thought.... "Here it comes... What's it gonna be." Oh man.... It looked kind of bad.

    She looked at me and said, "Are you eventually going to... um... are you......" Almost instinctively I knew right away what she was trying to ask me. Before she could finish I said "In January". I knew she was asking me if I was eventually going to have "sexual reassignment surgery". "Okay, thank you" she said and headed back to her desk and the man who had previously been helping me disappeared again. I wondered what was going on. In a few minutes he returned with a form in hand. He explained to me that after surgery I should have this form filled out by the surgeon or my therapist or whoever needs to do it (I think it is the surgeon), bring it back and they will change the "M" on my license to "F". Oh cool. So that's what all the mystery was about. Good deal. So now I have that form.

    We finished up with the business at hand and he sent me over to another guy at another window to have my photo taken. Oh man.... My photo:

    Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity,
    to seize everything you ever wanted,
    one moment...
    Would you capture it or just let it slip?
    You better lose yourself in the music, the moment,
    you own it, you better never let it go.
    You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow.
    This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo.
    "Lose Yourself" - Eminem

    That is how I felt about this photograph.

    I pulled my hair back behind my ears and tried to stand up straight. *FLASH*

    As I wrote sometime back, I do not want any pictures of me taken by anybody. What I am doing seems to be working and if I look like crap I just don't want to know it. Well, this photo will probably look like shit and this time I have to know. I just have to deal with it. Trish's first shot, my one shot, at least for quite a long time to come. It is not that I am completely worried about being a kinda ugly female as I have resigned myself to the fact that I am not all that attractive. What I am fearful of is that I might see a guy in the photo. That is what I am not able to deal with so well. This might not seem like such a big deal to many who have had a drivers license for years and never had a gender issue, but to me, at least for now, it is. I mean it is my very first drivers license in my "right skin" and with my right name.

    At any rate........ I was in and out of the DMV in I think about 35 or 40 minutes, with no appointment and I finally got my drivers license, or actually for now my temporary drivers license. Major good deal.

    Then it was off to the Social Security Administration. We got there about 8:25 AM and discovered that they do not open until 9 AM, so I stood outside with the ever growing line of people to wait for the doors to open up. When they finally did open I was directed to a window by the security officer. The woman in the window greeted me, I took a seat, explained what I needed and she asked for my court ordered decree. Then wham, the bad news. The same decree that was accepted without question by the DMV was not accepted by the SSA. My copy it seems was not "registered" and "stamped' with the state seal or whatever. Fuck. You must be kidding. I paid that lawyer to get me that shit. The woman was very nice and helpful instructing me how to obtain what they need and all the while I am sitting there saying, "This is total BS. I mean total BS."

    She said, "I'm sorry, if you go to the county courthouse and obtain a registered and stamped copy of the decree, then come back in, I will just call you to the window with no waiting." I said "Okee doke, okee friggin doke", apologized for my disgust and slightly pissed off behavior, thanked her for her help and we were off to the courthouse. Damn lawyers.

    It was just a hop, skip and a jump down the freeway to the county courthouse. I asked the police officer in the lobby where I could get a registered copy of my decree. He pointed me to the right place and after having my purse and notebook full of paperwork x-rayed I made my way left past all those poor souls divorcing and working out child custody, then a right making my way through all the "riffraff", and then left again. I was able to get the required paperwork at my expense. It was only $10.50 but I will tell you what, that is coming out of my damn lawyers retainer. He was supposed to do this. I just didn't know it until this morning.

    Back to the car and now we drive back over to the SSA office.

    Try doing this sometime. From the SSA to the county courthouse, get copies of a court decree registered and stamped and back to the SSA in an hour and ten minutes. Was that luck or what.

    At the SSA I am practically right back up to the window, same women, nice as can be and we are finished with all of the Social Security Card business in 10 minutes and I am out of there.

    Finished for the day. YES. So now I will have my new driver's license in thirty to sixty days and my Social Security card within two weeks.

    We took a break at an outdoor café for croissants and coffee, or for me, Diet Coke®. It was nice to sit down and say to myself, yeah.

    As soon as my license comes I will start changing other things like my 401k plan, my retirement pension, Triple A, my checking and savings account, car insurance, etc etc etc etc.... I am lucky in a way. After my divorce there is just not that much to worry about insofar as name changes go. I don't have much of anything.

    I was supposed to have electrolysis yesterday, Wednesday, but my lectro person moved it up a day to Tuesday so my face would heal a little for my drivers license photo (I need all the help I can get). Yep, that's my support system. She is the best. She's pretty darn busy and rescheduling is not an easy affair sometimes, but it seems she is always thinking about what will work best for me.

    In other news...
    Yesterday I was standing out on the patio and my mom was working around some flowers about 20 feet away when I heard, "WO!"....

    "Your mom says wo just like you, Trish."
    I guess. Or maybe I say it just like her.
    "Novel thought, Trish."
    Thanks.

    The reason for her exclamation was the rattlesnake that was coiled right where she stuck her hand in the flowers. Oh shit... She called me over and sure as shootin, there was a rattler just coiled up, not moving. You could hardly make him out as he was kind of covered with dust and dirt but there he was. The last time there was a rattler on the porch *I* was the one to "dispatch" him as you cannot just let those guys hang out around the house not knowing when and where thy might just suddenly decide to pop up. It was the first and only time that I had done something like that and it really messed with my head. My Mom knows that I cannot do that again so this time she went and got one of the workers from the grove to come up and do it while I waited and kept an eye on Mr. Rattler to make sure we did not lose track of him. I did this from a safe distance. The fact that the snakes have to be destroyed is still disturbing to me, but it's something that has to be done. Fuck. I hate that.

    I have an endocrinologist appointment in the morning. I get to let him know that I have a date for surgery. Another early day.

    Hopefully more news soon...

     

    Somebody, anybody, please card me.
    But not now. Do it in thirty to sixty days.
    Trish

Saturday, September 20th, 2003

  • Yesterday early...

    ...I was driving to my endocrinologist appointment.

    THWAP!

    Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump thumpthumpthump thumpthump thump thump....... thump........ thump.......... thump.................. thump.

    What the hell was that?? Man, I quickly pulled off to the side of the freeway, my little ol' heart going pitter patter pitter patter pitter effin patter. I got out of the car, the gusts of wind from a million cars doing eighty to ninety miles an hour blowing freeway crap all over me. I walked around the car and looked for what could have made that noise. I was pretty sure it was a flat tire and I was right. The right rear tire was thrashed.

    I was lucky too. When it happened I was about to transition from one freeway to another so I was in the farthest right lane doing about 65 miles per hour. One minute earlier I had been in the fast lane doing 85 with the rest of the busy morning traffic heading into Los Angeles and all those people are relentless. They just have to be in front of you and get to where they are going before you get to where you are going, and if they happen to be in back of you, those idiots let you know that you are in their way by leaving one car length or less between you and them while doing 90 miles an hour. Idiots. Dangerous effin idiots.
    Anyway...

    I got back in the car, used my cell phone to immediately call my endo and cancel my appointment. I didn't want to chance being late. I then called The Automobile Club of America, Triple A. The Triple A guy arrived really fast. I told him I had a flat tire and asked him to change it for me. He started doing that but apparently two of the lug nuts (I *think* that is what they are called) were stripped and impossible to remove, so he had to tow me to a tire place not far away. I just ended up getting a new tire right there. He had offered to take me to my doctors appointment and then find a tire place out there, but that was another 70 miles up the road and I just didn't want to be late. Time was already flying by, so I said "Thanks, but naw."

    I was praying that I would not have to show my drivers license to anybody for any reason. Until I get my new license, the old one is all I have for photo identification. These guys were doing real good by me, taking care of everything, being super nice and I sure didn't want them to see my picture and get pissed off. I mean, they were even addressing me as "Miss 'Drab Name'". Fortunately they never requested it, not when I showed my Triple A card and not when I paid for the new tire by credit card.

    It was a good thing I had cancelled my endo appointment because as fast as those guys were for me I still would have been late, not real late, but I am punctual with this stuff. Two minutes late is still late.

    Kind of a scary morning. I am just glad I was in the right lane going slower then I had been going a minute before. In days past I would have said "Thank you, Angel", but I haven't done that for a long time. I gave thanks in my own way as I always do, before bed.

    It was a hot day and I was tired but I just didn't feel like going home so on the way back I stopped at a big mall, had a small lunch and sat and people watched for about an hour and a half. I only went into about 3 stores. Window shopping can get kind of old when you never buy.

    I will call my endo on Monday to reschedule.

     

    Dusty shoulder, dirty shoes...
    ...blacktop win, whitewall lose.
    Trish