Tuesday, August 10th, 2004

• Hey...

  Hey...

  HEY!

  "Me? Huh?"

  Yeah, you.

  "What."

  Do you think that I have changed over the last four or five years?
  "In some ways, yes."
  Oh cool.
  "Not always cool, Trish. You are not all that."
  Oh great.

  I bet that you've changed over the years too.
  "I would like to think that I am at least one constant in your life, Trish."
  That would probably be good.

  "Pals then?"
  Okay, pals.
  "Shake on it?"
  Okay, put 'er there, pal...

  Wait............ what the hell am I doing.

  That was weird.

   

  Me and my shadow, we're closer than pages that stick in a book.
  We're closer than ripples that play in a brook, strolling down the avenue...
  Dave Dreyer and Al Jolson

Monday, August 16th, 2004

• A few days...

  ...ago I had a dream in which I had been invited to a wedding. A person who was very close to me was to be wed out on a pier over the ocean. I went alone and I was feeling pretty darn good about myself. I spotted the little wedding chapel out on the pier and in front of that I saw a friend seated at a table that was to be used for the reception . I went over to sit with her for a few minutes.

  We hugged and said hi and as I sat down I noticed that there were about three others sitting at the table also. The next thing I know I hear, "So, is he going to blah blah blah.." The "he" was in reference to myself. Ah jeez. I had been "read" as not genetic female. Anyway, the next thing I know everybody is discussing "transgender" and 'transsexual" and "I have a friend who is" and asking me the "How long have you" and the "Does your son handle" and etc etc etc...

  Inside I felt like, hey, I am here for a wedding. I put on my finest duds and I feel good and with all due respect I did not come here to once again talk about this shit.

  So I told them, "I did not come here to talk about this." And as I was saying that to them I awoke from my sleep and I was chanting aloud, over and over, "I did not come here to talk about this. I did not come here to talk about this. I did not come here to talk about this."

  Since quitting smoking and my surgery, my weight has gone up to 150 pounds. I quit smoking ten months and nineteen days ago, and my surgery was over a half a year ago, so it is not like it happened overnight. I suppose my body is just reacting to my "keeping the weight down" methods a little differently now. So for the last five days or so I have been starving myself. Usually if I do that for a while I can get the weight down and then just resume semi-normal eating activities watching myself closely. But anyway, I am down four to five pounds and we will see. Hey, I know it is not the right way to go about this, but this is the way I do it at times.....

  My son was here with us from last Saturday until yesterday. We didn't do anything special, but same old story, it was enough just to have him in the same house with me. It is frustrating sometimes because I know that he is probably a little bored with "just being in the same house with me", but I do what I can with what I have.

  Taking him back home is a three hundred and fifty mile round trip that I usually make with a quick turnaround. Inside my head it's not a great ride back and most times I feel like I have taken him home for the last time, as though he will never come to stay with me again. It is never, "just routine". I am not sure why this is. It's weird when I get back here and he is nowhere to be seen. It really hits me again; I don't live with my son anymore. Over two years later and it still feels like this is just temporary. Me not being with him every day is just a temporary situation.

  "It is not really temporary, Trish. You are divorced, He lives with his mom."
  I know.
  "Maybe someday you guys will decide to live together again when he is a little older."
  I kind of hope not. He needs his own life. I just mean as a boy, I miss living with my boy. I don't like not being able to protect him and to love him daily, in person. Blah blah blah.

  I went back to the "Clinic in a Trailer" for more "glorified aspirin". My neck is still bothering me as is my lower back and the headaches that come and go suck. Thud thud thud.

  I think that Thursday I am going to do the mall thing. I have not done that for a few weeks.

  ..and that is all that is going on, I swear it.

   

  All aboard for Dreamland, jump on a trolley with Maudie or Mollie.
  And all aboard for Dreamland, it's out of sight.
  Harry Von Tilzer and Andrew B. Sterling

Friday, August 20th, 2004

• Sometimes life...

  ...is a God damned big weenie.

   

  
  Trish

Sunday, August 29th, 2004

• I know that there...

  ...are lunatics everywhere, but the "transgender community" is rife.

  My very first ever experience using the women's restroom was at a "transgender convention" of sorts. You would think that a real effort would be put forth to present ourselves ("transgender") in a good light, especially to the genetic women in attendance, the genetic women that we would be sharing that restroom with. Well, in the restroom there was a looooooong line of stalls and not one toilet seat was dry. Not a freakin one. There was lot's of meticulous makeup application going on at the mirrors, there was lot's of gown Swishing® happening, but apparently there was no pee aiming in the house.

  I will never forget that and I know that there are lunatics everywhere, but the "transgender community" is rife.

   

  
  Trish

Tuesday, August 31st, 2004

• And Speaking of...

  ...damp toilet seats, as I did in my last entry... Last night my mom and I attended a summer production at the Spreckels Organ Pavilion in Balboa Park, San Diego. Among other numbers, they performed a few songs from The Phantom of the Opera. It was really beautiful. But anyway, back to the toilet seats.

  ...and by the way, the damp toilet seats in this instance were from plumbing gone awry, metal type plumbing, not human type plumbing.

  After using the restroom, I took my seat back in the pavilion and queried my mom. "Man, I need to learn to 'hover'. You ever hover, mom?" She said, "Oh yeah." I asked her, "How did you learn to hover, under fire? Or did you just go practice in the woods or something."

  She just started laughing and I never did get an answer.

  Since I became sober, I have had dreams in which I am drinking alcohol. Since I quit smoking I have had dreams where I have smoked cigarettes. So I guess since I dream of things that are bad for ol' Trish, it is only fitting that now, after surgery (SRS), I would have a dream last night that I was lying on my bed, only to look down and see of all things? Yep, Mr. Ugly.... the penis. Oh crap. For some strange reason I reached down to touch it and to put it mildly, it was not pleasant at all. I woke up.

  "Hmmm, Trish... Maybe some would say that you are dreaming of things that you really still desire to have, or do..."
  Really? Ya think?
  "Well, it is possible, Trish."
  Do you know what I would say to you or to them about that?"
  "No, what."
  I would say, take my penis dream and put it where the sun don't shine. HA.
  "Very original, Trish."
  Thanks. You may use it sometime if you wish.

  This is day 340 without cigarettes. Eleven months and four days.

   

  Dream a little dream of me,
  signed,
  Mis-ter Ug-lee
  Ha ha ha. Oh man.
  Trish

   

  Trish's Current HRT Statistics (08/31/04):
  Hormone Regiment: 6 mgs estradiol once a day.
  Emotions: Still up and down all the time.
  Breasts: Breasts? Hee hee hee ho ho ho.
  Hips, Thighs and Bottom: Nope.
  Body Hair: Nuthin I guess. Might be time to take this out of here.
  Skin: Nuthin I guess. Might be time to take this out of here.
  Masturbation and Sexual Desire: YES.
  Trish Bottom Line: Regarding my GRS, I have good days, I have not so good days. But I am healing. (Knock on wood.)

Sunday, September 12th, 2004

• Back in May I had...

  ...been summoned for Jury Duty and was part of the selection process (and ultimately released from service) for a court case that I really did not want to serve on. Very violent. I just read in the paper that this person was sentenced to forty years to life in prison. He had actually been convicted of the crime before, but the jury was apparently hung as to whether or not Post Traumatic Stress Disorder came into play and if PTSD should be considered during the sentencing phase of the trial. That is what this deal was all about. Well, PTSD was not considered, and trust me, this guy got what he deserves.

  I have to get my car smogged. I have to sell it. I can't afford to keep it. I have never been without my own car before. Weird.

  My body is acting really "different" when it comes to weight. It seems the weight control methods that have worked for me previously (before quitting smoking and surgery) are not working anymore. But I have managed to stabilize for a short time here at about 146 to 148 pounds, If this is the heaviest I get, I can deal with it for now. But I would like to at least get back down to 145. I for now do not think that I can get back down to the 135 like I wanted to. I will not be fat. Being overweight is a huge fear for me as I have said one hundred million times before.

  This morning one of my mom's friends gave to me a huge bottle of YSATIS de GIVENCHY perfume. She didn't like the way it smelled on her. I am lucky that way. Many fragrances that don't seem to work for others work great for me. I am also lucky that we have friends that think of Trish when it comes to YSATIS de GIVENCHY perfume.

  Yesterday I went and did the mall thing. Hung out, drank Diet Coke®, people watched, window shopped, watched one particularly obnoxious young kid be totally rude to an older couple (not something you usually see in this neck of the woods) and generally just messed around. But there was a "first" involved. I wore a thong panty. Pre-operatively I completely stayed away from these contraptions. I mean, what was the point? To put it bluntly, the dang little thing would not contain my penis at all. A thong would have been just another aid in the constant reminder that Mr. Ugly the penis was a cohabitant of this body.

  I likened pre-operative thong wearing to balancing a potato in the crotch. I have no interest in balancing a potato in a thong crotch and I had no interest in balancing my penis in a thong crotch either. Not that I was as well endowed as some spuds I have seen.

  But anyway, I wore my Victoria's Secret® thong (that was a gift from a friend some months back) and it was... rewarding. Not rewarding in the way that it is a sexy (what can I say) little thong that was fun to try, but that I could finally wear it, period. I won't be wearing thongs very often, but it was very cool, figuratively and literally. Another milestone of no importance to anybody but myself.

  And no, it was not exposed in the back in the way that so many are wearing them now-a-days.

  "Aw, c'mon Trish, you were tempted."
  Well, okay, I was.
  "Hypocrite."

  Hey, I didn't do it. Except for here, it was a private thong... I mean thing.

  I am going to call the free clinic trailer doctor tomorrow to make another appointment for my back. I don't know what they can do for me, but I am going to find out. My back is still not letting me do what I need to do. The car accident was on June 30th and my back should be better by now.

  This is day 352 without cigarettes. Eleven months and fifteen days. Not long now and it will be a year. I cannot really believe that almost a year without cigarettes has gone by. The good part is that I have not smoked for a year. The bad part is that I am a year older and it went by fast... Oh, and also that I still want a cigarette, really really badly.

  After everything I have gone through in my life, I cannot believe that I am now a person who does not drink, who does not smoke, who does not party, who does not go out, who does not do jack shit. It is pretty boring most of the time.

  Oh sure, I can drink filtered water and feel like Miss Healthy Being, I can stop and look at the pretty scenery and smell the sweet sweet air and I can revel in my (knock on wood) good health, but those are not my foremost thoughts on Friday and Saturday nights when I sit here alone and just wait for bedtime in front of either the television or computer. The part of that that bugs me the most is, I don't see any changes coming up and for krime-in-nee sakes I am only getting older, by-crackee. Oh well...

  "Trish, you keep saying that you want to be alone."
  Well yeah... But not all the time. Sheesh.
  "Well really now, Trish.. You do not want to be with a smoker or drinker anyway."
  Well, that is mostly true. But I could deal with a little cigarette smoke if I got something in return.

  Ha.

  I am still living in Very Heavy Anxietyville. I might write about it sometime, but basically it is the same old shit and it will either be resolved, or it will be my downfall. I am still in therapy for a good reason.

  "Oh c'mon Trish. Downfall? Fess up. What gives. Release is good for what ails ya."
  Okay, honestly?
  "No Trish. LIE to me. Of course honestly."

  Okay. A LOT of my anxieties right now are about no employment, no work, no cash, no moola moola. That is all I am going to say for now.

  "That's enough anyway. I got it."
  I knew that you would.
  "Would what."
  Get it.
  "Yeah, got it."
  Good.

  "That is so old, Trish."

   

  The man in the silk suit hurries by, as he catches the poor ladies' eyes.
  Just for fun he says, get a job.
  Bruce Hornsby

Saturday, October 2nd, 2004

• The server that...

  ...hosts my online Transition Diary has been down and I have been unable to update. But now we are up and I am just about back.

   

  When I get to the bottom, I go back to the top of the slide.
  Helter Skelter

Sunday, October 3rd, 2004

• Okee doke then, it's been...

  ...a while since I have been able to update my Transition Diary. Lemmie see here, what's been going on. *taps fingers on desk* Oh yeah.

  I guess the very first thing is that on Monday, September 27th, I celebrated (well not really celebrated, more like just went "WOO HOO!" to myself a few times) one year without cigarettes. I wish that I could say that I feel so much better for quitting, but actually the void that cigarettes filled, the satisfaction that they provided was a whole lot more fulfilling then "how much better I feel", because I don't feel all that much better. It is true that I am saving lots of money, but it is money that I don't have anyway so it is not like, "HEY WHOOPIE I CAN BUY THAT NEW COMPACT DISC!" Nope, just surviving for now.

  Am I proud of myself for the one year of no smoking? A little, only because I did what needed to be done. Other then that, big deal. Anyway, if I had the money right now to start smoking again, I am sure that I would be completely torn as to whether or not I should. So anyway, that is the end of my "XXX days without a cigarette" Transition Diary entries.

  Speaking of money, I think I have spotted a department store job that I would be hired for. I am going to get a job application. It is only about eighteen miles from here, and believe me, eighteen is close in mountain miles.

  Where am I at with the car accident and my back. I am sick of this. My back is still bothering me bigtime. I went back to see the "doctor in a trailer" as instructed by him and he sent me for x-rays on Monday the 20th of September. The x-rays came back and there is some trouble in there. So far he has suggested physical therapy. The physical therapy ranges from $200 to $250 a visit, so physical therapy is out. It looks as though I will be just be grinning and bearing my back pain until I get a job and some money. I have two years from the date of the car accident to make a claim with the other persons insurance, but for now it looks as though this closes the chapter on my back and any possible pain relief.

  Oh, one cool thing is that I have not shaved now since May 12th. That is almost five months. I had not had electrolysis for six days the week I was sent for x-rays, and when I went I was able to use just some lipstick and eyeliner and no foundation and I got along just fine. That was very cool. Oh, I am sure some of the x-ray techs must have known of my past by looking at me, but in the packed with men, women and children waiting room, there were no "looks" from anybody. No foundation and no looks. That is SO boss.

  After the x-rays were taken, Mom and I went to look at some really nice model homes around a lake. We looked at nine in total. Nice nice nice. And every other refrigerator was stocked with bottled water which was good. But the best part was the huge bowl of chocolate coins advertising something, I don't know what. I have a chocolate coin fetish you see. I always have.

  
  ~ my chocolate coins ~

  I don't know where it comes from and I do not think that it is because of the chocolate. I swooped up five big gold coins from a bowl while nobody was looking and they are still sitting here on the table next to my computer. I have not been tempted to eat them at all. I just every day arrange them in different positions. I love chocolate coins.

  Last Saturday I was washing a car that just happened to be near a pear tree that was/is buzzing with bees. Now these bees (why yes, I am a poet) are the kind that like to hang around and make little gestures like they are about to have their way with you like you are some big open bottle of soda or a trashcan full of uneaten sweets. It is downright unnerving. So when one of them that had been pal-ing around with me for quite a while landed on the car and was sitting still, I got it in my head that "Hey, I think I will take this towel and SWAT that little booger and at least one bee will not be bothering me anymore."

  So I stood well away from the bee, as far away as I could and still be able to bap him with my towel.... took careful aim... prepared myself to run just in case I missed... and... aaaaannnnnddddd...

  THWAP!

  Where'd he go. Where'd he GO?!?! Bzzzz... Bzzzz... Bzz bzz... BZZZZZZ!!! Oh shit! That buzzing was coming from in-between my TOES! That little fart landed right between my TOES! So there I am all hopping around trying to I don't know what when I felt it;

  Ladies and Gentleman, he stung me. He stung me and it hurt so bad that I thought that somebody had taken to my foot with a nailgun. I ran out to the back of the house where my mom was doing some gardening and I yelled, "OWIE!!!!" Mom is all like, "WTF??" I am all like, "OWIE!! A BEEEEEE STING!!!" Mom is all like, "WHERE?!!?!?!" I am all like, "OWIE!! A BEEEEEE STING!!!" Mom located the stinger, it was huge and not difficult to find and she whisked it away. Actually from the size of it I thought somebody would have to take a hammer and remove it with one of those nail puller things, but I guess not. Hey, I am not kidding, that hurt.

  And a week later my foot is still itching like crazy and red and splotchy. It is getting better but man oh man. I think somebody or something was trying to tell me to let the nectar gatherers of the world do whatever they want to do and to leave them the hell alone. Okay, duly noted.

  Bees one, Trish zero.

  This life has so many lessons and so damn much karma.

  Oh and guess what, I hovered. Yep, I hovered for the first time ever. I was on my long drive to electrolysis and I stopped to use the restroom at a gas station. I really had to go. This restroom is normally very clean but on this day? The toilet was clogged and it was........ messy. So, I hovered. It worked good, but it would of helped to be an Olympian. I took out an ad the minute I was finished. Wanted: Leg muscles, inquire within.

  I can hardly believe that tomorrow it will be one year since my son's sixteenth birthday gathering at Disneyland. I had written about it last October. It was one of the best days I have had in eight years. I wish we were going again this year. On Friday I took some gifts to him and we had dinner out. It was really nice. My son rocks. He is 17 now, and he rocks. I love him with all my heart, and then some.

   

  Do you smoke after sex?
  No.
  Wait, what sex.
  Trish

Saturday, October 16th, 2004

• I've been...

  ...busy. Not "great great stuff busy", just "stuff busy". I have been out every day for the last five or so days doing things. "Out" around here is a big deal as it is not just going out the door and you are in town. It means a long drive. It is a "being in the mountains" thing.

  First of all, it looks as though I might be getting that physical therapy for my back after all. Finances may allow it and I now know I will for sure be reimbursed. On Monday I will call and make arrangements for that. I was also able to obtain a small amount of medication that is a hair stronger then the glorified aspirin they had been giving me for the pain.

  On Monday I am also going to call my endocrinologist. I have an appointment for next Friday (postponed from a few months ago) and I am going to postpone again. I think I will see if I can make an appointment for the end of January. I just cannot afford it.

  This last Thursday I attended a job fair in the city. There were quite a few employers seeking to fill positions. Unfortunately it was mostly for retail positions, but in turn, fortunately for me, that is about what I need right now. Quick and dirty cash. I spoke to many folks and took quite a few applications for employment.

  I also met with a person from a group who were critiquing resumes. She and I talked for about fifteen minutes and I received lot's of input. I may or may not make the suggested changes to my resume. I had originally composed my resume with the assistance of a headhunter who knows what she is doing, so I think it just comes down to personal preference.

  " *snooze* "
  What?
  "Boring."
  I know I know.

  Last Sunday I sold my car. My mom and I decided to take it down to a swap meet and park it in the lot with a "For Sale" sign on it. We thought that maybe we could do the swap meet thing, and then hopefully have a few calls inquiring about it by the time we got home. Welp, I pulled into the lot, found a parking space, reached for the key to turn off the engine, but before I could touch it, the car sold for the full asking price.

  I didn't even have the thing parked and somebody bought it. I had had that car for twenty years. It was the car that my ex-wife and I picked up the week that we were married. It was the car that we used to bring our newborn son home from the hospital. Anyway, it had lot's of memories and I guess anybody who has sold a car has experienced the feelings involved. So out with the old and in with the... in with the.. in... Wait, there is no new. Oh well...

  Oh, and as the car's registration was still in my old name, one of the last vestiges of that name is gone. That part of it feels good.

  The day before I sold my car I washed it in an attempt to make it sparkle a little. Poor thing. Dang. I was scrubbing the roof when I suddenly felt an oddly familiar feeling; OUCH!

  Bees two, Trish zero.

  Two weeks to the day, while doing the exact same thing, I was stung again. I had my hair in a ponytail and the dang bee landed on the side of my neck to zap me. I must be in the bees'ezez flight path or something when I am washing cars.

  Yesterday I was sitting on a patio at a shopping mall when a bee almost landed on my leg. I hopped up so fast that everybody turned to look at me. I was all like, "Hey, I have been stung twice in the last three weeks and it is not gonna happen again." I didn't care that I looked like the Tasmanian Devil trying to get out of that things way. Enough bee stings for me. Bee stings don't go away after just a day or two. Those things hurt and itch and make gross gross for days and days, or at least on me they do.

  Cool Trish-Marie Transition Factoid: I have not shaved my face and neck since May 4th, over five months ago. My last electrolysis appointment was on Friday October 8th. So that means that I attended the job fair after seven days of no facial hair removal of any kind and had no problem (that I was made aware of). I have been out every day including yesterday (after eight days) with no problem (that I was made aware of). The reason that this is a cool factoid (for me) is that it was not that long ago that after only three days (four at the most), I was not leaving this house unless I had to. And that was going to out of the way places that I reserved strictly for "hair days". You might remember reading about that in my Transition Diary.

  "Yes, I do remember that."

  The rewards of electrolysis are really paying off. Having electrolysis performed every week for over four years is at times frustrating, grueling, expensive, painful, depressing and totally effed up, but it is totally worth it. Any persons who are transitioning who have not been told that electrolysis should be a number one priority are being done a colossal disservice.

  I will not pretend to be an expert on the subject at all but electrolysis does not just remove the hair on your face. When your hair is permanently removed, the follicles heal up and your skin texture becomes much more smooth, soft. Electrolysis can be a very big factor in the feminization of your face. The process can take a long time and the sooner a person who is serious about transition starts it, the sooner that person will find happiness both inside and out, or at least, this has been my experience and I thank my lucky stars that I was given responsible guidance.

  Anyway, last Friday when I went to electrolysis I was trying to kill a little time before I started the drive home. If I leave too early I hit work traffic and a three hour drive can turn into a six hour drive. Leaving even a half an hour later can make all the difference in the world. One of the things I decided to do since it was on the way back was to take a drive up to the hospital and and rehab grounds where I last got clean.

  "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip..."
  What?
  "..a three hour drive, a three hour drive. The traffic started picking up, the Trish's car was stopped, if not for the side trip to the detox grounds, the little car...."
  Oh man, that is so lame.
  "...with Trishigan, and the rest, here on Trishigan's Isle..."
  Are you finished?
  "Just having some fun. You would have done it if you'd a' thought of it."
  No, I wouldn't. That was totally lame.

  The hospital grounds were just as I remember them down to the benches I sat on outside the ward shortly after the first stages of detox. I could almost see myself sitting there in my hospital gown with construction boots (the shoes I had on when I was admitted) hair poking every which a way, unshaven, trying to swallow down some juice while shaking and even drooling a bit. Nice picture, eh?

  I could have left the hospital at any time I had wanted to. And if I had not worked the program, if I had not done what they said to do when they said to do it, and if I had not swallowed what they gave me to swallow when they said to swallow it, I would have been booted out on my ass. Only those with court orders were lawfully required to stay. But I know that if I had not stayed, that would have been it. I would have ended up on the street with no nothing. As I have written before, I was also totally tired and beat, so I stayed.

  I'm not really going anywhere with this story, it was just pretty weird being back up there again. I had been back once for a meeting on a Wednesday night about seven years ago, but not since. That place probably saved my life, and in the same fell swoop helped to make it totally boring as shit at times.

  I keep wondering to myself, "When am I going to stop with this Transition Diary." I think it is becoming quite boring and entries are becoming fewer and farther between. But there are two subjects I have yet to write about, one being employment. I want to write of employment. And the other is a relationship of some kind.

  I don't want to write about the every day mundane folderol.

  I want to write of new experiences, or old experiences experienced in a new or different way. This diary is about my transition and right around now there is not much going on transition wise. I do not want to write about what I had for dinner, what movie I saw, or what place I went to last night unless it involves eating it, seeing it, or going to it in a new way.

  So I am carrying on with my Transition Diary at least until I have a job and hopefully maybe even a relationship of some sort to discreetly write about.

  I think maybe for my next Transition Diary entry I will create a list of all my transition accomplishments or goals met. This might help to put things in perspective.

  I still need to have my birth certificate changed. It is not all that easy to do and it is not that difficult to forget about at this point.

  "So Trish, how many days is this without cigarettes."
  Last month I reached the one year mark sans nicotine, so I'm not doing the count anymore.

   

  That sit for today.
  Trish

Monday, October 25th, 2004

• I am not going to...

  ...list of all my transition accomplishments or goals met like I thought I might do. I just don't have the time to put into it yet.

  My back has really been bothering me the last few days, more then ever. I am out of the medication that the "trailer doctor" had prescribed for me. I am going to request more, soon. Saturday my mom and I took a drive to a really nice spot down south of where we live to attend a crafts fair. Although we got there only about an hour after it opened, the parking lot was full and cars were parked up and down the streets for a pretty good distance. My back pain would not let me walk to the fair from where we would be required to park. We just turned around and pretty much went straight home.

  I really wanted to go to that crafts fair and I was very disappointed/pissed at my back. I am awaiting a call back for the physical therapy arrangements. As soon as the "trailer doctor" orders them up, I can go. This back thing is pretty much dominating my life right now. My frustration with the whole thing is growing (and growing and growing).

  I did indeed postpone my endocrinologist appointment (again) until the end of January. Grrrrr. At this point I cannot even remember the last time I went to see him. I would have to look it up. Not good. But, no $$$'s.

  I saw my therapist last Tuesday for the first time in six weeks. I don't have another appointment now for another six weeks. The time between appointments grows in part due to finances and also because I have no real pressing issues..... for today. But you know that I would see him every single week if possible. It always does me good to speak with him, and to see him, regardless the amount of Trish fodder. It actually does me really good just the thought of knowing that he is there for me twenty-four hours a day, every day of the year. He has proven this through his actions.

  Oh, some good news; I have yet to be stung by another bee, but then again I have not washed any cars this week. The rain we have been having makes that something you just don't need to do.

  And speaking of rain, the weather is turning to winter and I cannot get warm. I really dislike winter, or I guess more specifically I dislike/hate with a passion being cold and freezing in winter. Oh I know we gotta have winter. Winter kind of rounds out the other seasons.

  "Trish, let's have a contest to see who can use 'winter' the most times in a single paragraph."
  Huh?
  "You win."
  Oh go away.

  Anyway, my feet are cold even with thick socks and stuff. And I hate sleeping in clothes, especially the amount required to keep me warm at night. That is most of the time just a nightshirt and socks, but...

  "Socks? Ew Trish."
  Hey, my feet are cold.

  ...even just a nightshirt and socks are more then I like to wear to bed now-a-days.

  And wo, the sun going down early? Don't even get me started. (Don't you hate that line? "Don't even get me started"?).

  There are only three days during the winter that I give it permission and even my blessings to be cold and get dark early. Those three days are:

  Halloween. I love Halloween. I love the decorations, the spookiness, the scary movies, all the stupid situation comedy television show Halloween specials, the trick or treaters (that we do not get up here in the mountains), just everything... (Yes, Trish gets into all the plasticisities of Halloween, nothing deep, just fun.) On Halloween I can even deal with a little wind, wind that freaks me out and scares me muchly.

  Then Thanksgiving... My son usually stays with us. He and my mom traditionally go to a family day and dinner (my mom's deceased husbands family) and I just hang out at the house and have the day and evening to myself. My Thanksgiving satisfaction comes from knowing that my son is with my mom, and that he is doing a good old fashioned family thing. Thanksgiving although not my most favorite holiday is pretty cool.

  And lastly but not leastly, Christmas. I give nature permission be cold and get dark early on Christmas. I love all the usual stuff about Christmas; being with my son (thank goodness my divorce has not screwed that up), being with my mom, being with my son and my mom, seeing my son really happy, laughing like nutty banshees all day together. (Oh and Christmas lights, I love all the different colored lights. And Christmas stockings and ornaments.)

  Last Christmas we did something different. My mom, my son and I went to the movies to see Peter Pan starring that real cute kid Jeremy Sumpter. It was a great fun movie. Then we had dinner at some coffee shop that my sons loves. All this while it was pouring rain and freezing outside. We got home probably around 9 or 10 PM only to the discover that the electricity had gone out around 6. It didn't come back on until 12:30 AM. We had never left the house on Christmas before and while I totally did not want to, it turned out to be a really great memory (and good power management timing) and we are thinking about a repeat performance this year.

  So there ya have it, Ms. Mother Nature. Trish gives ya three days to be cold and get dark early, but that's it. You take the heat for the rest of em.

   

  Oh, the weather outside is frightful...
  Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne

Tuesday, October 26th, 2004

• Sometimes, at the...

  ...age I am at now I look at children and young people and I feel completely jealous; they have their whole damn lives ahead of them. They have fresh, young and healthy bodies.

  On the other hand, sometimes I feel like, "Holy shit, they have their whole damn lives ahead of them. Who would want that."

   

  
  It makes a person want to drink.
  No really, it makes a person want to drink.
  Trish

Thursday, November 4th, 2004

• Let's see just...

  ...how boring I can be.

  It looks as though I am going to be shaving my face and neck today for the first time since May 12th, the morning I last went to Jury Duty. I had hoped that I would never be shaving again but my electrolysis person cancelled for this week due to personal reasons. I have places to be this weekend where I do not want one single hair on my face.

  My brother-in-law (my ex-wife's brother) and his girlfriend of many years are coming to visit for the weekend and we have plans to do the town a bit. I don't want to do it with any hair on my face. Even one is two too many (it makes sense to me). Man, shaving is really going to be a bummré as my "girl hair" is in. The very fine hair that helps to give a person's face a different texture. The very fine hair that keeps a person's face from having that shiny waxy shaved look. Shaving for the first time in over five months will feel weird I bet. Doggone-it. Oh well....

  I am not sure when my next electrolysis appointment will be. Hopefully by next Friday.

  I finally have an appointment with physical therapy for my back. The back that has sucked since I was rear ended in my car on June 30th. The appointment is for next Tuesday the 9th. I am hoping I get some relief. I am also hoping that it will not take more then a time or two as this is going on credit card until I am reimbursed by the other person's insurance. Physical therapy costs a fortune. I am totally looking forward to this.

  I had called the "doctor in a trailer" on Monday to request another prescription be filled for some weak ass pain medication they had prescribed for me. The nurse said, "Sure, no problem. I'll call it in." So the next day I make the twenty eight mile round trip into town to pick it up and ka-blowie, it had not been called in. And it was lunchtime so the pharmacist could not reach the "doctor in a trailer" to confirm the script. As I had places to be I could not wait around and I had to make the twenty eight mile round trip again the next day. Not the greatest service in the world, but that is a "next to free free clinic" for ya I guess.

  "Beggars cannot be choosers, Trish."
  I expect that is the case. And, is 'choosers' a word?
  "Beats me."

  Darn it all. I feel kind of bad that I wrote that last paragraph. I mean, they are really nice to me there, albeit a little country laid back I guess. It was probably just an oversight. Dang.

  The following is a conversation I overheard semi recently:

  Person One: So, how was your day?
  Person Two: Oh, I've had better.
  Person One: Really? What's wrong.
  Person Two: Electrolysis this morning. I am a little swollen. I've seen better days.

  Electrolysis this morning? A hair swollen? That is a negative? Better days? Kidding, right?

  Every day that I am able to have electrolysis performed for me is a wonderful day (with regard to transition). Oh sure, sometimes it hurts a lot, sometimes the finances of it all worry me, but a day being better because I've not had electrolysis?

  Sometimes I get the feeling that what the person really means is, "I am a real live in the spotlight tranny and nah nah naaah nah naaaaaaah nah electrolysis is so old hat to me and la dee da I am totally so cool and I bet I'm yer transsexual idol and I'm, too sexy for lectro, too sexy for you too, too sexy for....."

  "Objection! That is pure conjecture, Your Honor."
  Overruled.

  I mean really. Not much if any transition is handed to us. For the most part we have to fight and struggle financially, legally and every other whatilee to get what we need. Why making headway/progress in transition would make anybody say, "I've had better days" is far beyond my understanding.

  "Objection! Hearsay Your Honor!"
  Okay now you're just making shit up.

  Halloween this year I just stayed in. My son had his haunted house/party but it didn't work out for me to go this time. I missed him. I called him just as it was getting dark to lay down some ground rules:

  1. Do not work around any electrical equipment in your bare feet.
  2. Do not drag electrical equipment through the water.

  He laughs at me. We both know my rules are just a BS reason to call. Oh, and my mom had me relay a rule to him about harassing female trick or treaters or some such thing. We are such cornballs. He loves his grandma.

  Mom and I stayed in and watched some movies. I have the SCREAM video tape (I love SCREAM) and in the spirit of the day we looked at that. I said to her, "You know what, mom? All the other kids are going to be so totally jealous. I am the only one who's mom watched SCREAM with them."

  Then we watched Chocolate with Johnny (oh gawd) Depp. I had seen it before but mom hadn't. We both enjoyed that one a lot. We spent much of the time goo-goo'ing over Johnny, but I actually more then once had to tell my mom to relax. I can appreciate her thinking my boyfriend is handsome, beautiful, but enough is enough. I hope I never have to raise my hand to her over this. But anyway, that was Halloween.

  *phone rings*

  Regarding the car accident and my back: The other person's insurance representative just called. I updated her about my x-rays and physical therapy and all. She will check back with me again in a month or so.

  Oh man, I just had a real bad craving for a cigarette. This will just not go away. I would never try to discourage a person from quitting tobacco if that is what they want to do. It can be done and on one hand it is really easy, you just quit, stop. But on another level it's pretty hard...

  "That's what the sailor said to the lady."
  Said what?
  "It's pretty har..."
  Aw jeez...

  ...But on another level quitting smoking is pretty you know what and is an every day struggle. I hate not smoking.

  Oh, something that I just thought about the other day. It has been a long time since I have given it much thought as it is pretty much like beating a dead horse. The horse being my chest and any possible growth. I would say that it has been at least a good year since there was any soreness at all. I think when my endocrinologist and I upped my estradiol in February of 2003 I had some tenderness for a while, but none since then. I might have had little bit of growth since surgery but I cannot be sure as my electron microscope is in the shop. Verification is not possible at this time.

  I don't wear a bra much anymore. I will probably never ever really need a bra. I did wear one when I went for x-rays, I will wear one when I go to physical therapy and the like and I wear one when doing the employment thing, but that is just for the sake of modesty. And for one reason or another I seriously doubt that I will ever have augmentation. I would like to have breasts, but it doesn't look like it's in the cards for me. As much as I would like to say that this doesn't bother me in the slightest, I can't. But it is not killing me either. I am sure I will write more on this again, more then once.

  "Being small busted is good, Trish."
  Actually I am no busted, but why do you say that.
  "Well, you will always be safe from stupid killer stalkers, because..."

   

  ...it's always some stupid killer stalking some big breasted girl...
  Sidney Prescott
  SCREAM

   

  Trish's Current HRT Statistics (11/04/04):
  Hormone Regiment: 6 mgs estradiol once a day.
  Emotions: Up and down. Half and half. The highs are still not as high as the lows are low.
  Breasts: Breasts? Maybe a hair growth since surgery. Not holding my breath. Dead issue.
  Hips, Thighs and Bottom: Nope.
  Body Hair: Nuthin I guess. Again, might be time soon to take this out of here.
  Skin: Nuthin I guess. Might be time to take this out of here too.
  Masturbation and Sexual Desire: Wonderful. Sharing myself with another would be very cool too. I look forward to this possibility.
  Trish Bottom Line: Damn, not sure what to write here. I am lucky in some areas and some areas suck. Looking to the future.

Monday, November 8th, 2004

• If Clint Eastwood ...

  ...Johnny Depp and David Bowie all found their way into the same room, at the same time, I think the world would come to an end. A matter/anti-matter type of thing would be goin on. Molecules and spolecules would be bouncing off each other until the room was white black hot. It's like the you of now meeting the you of the future. It would be just too effin radioactive for any one world to handle and the Trician universe would explode or implode or plode plode PLODE plode.

  And if I were not the only woman in the room with them when it happened, well...

  ...what a waste that would be.

   

  Watch that man.
  David Bowie

Tuesday, November 9th, 2004

• I just got ...

  ...home from the physical therapy appointment for my back. I am a little disappointed. For $250 I received a consultation and a sheet of paper illustrating exercises for my back. No heat therapy, no ultra-sound, no whirlpool, no massages, no nothing but an exercise plan. Yep, my physical therapy will consist of nothing more then supervised exercise. It seems that if I need anything else, and yes, according them I do, the price goes up.

  I was looking so forward to that?

  It seems that I must either be in the United States illegally, or have a job where I am fully insured, or be financially well off to receive help of any real value.

  I didn't expect a miracle, but I did expect to leave there with a little bit of relief of some kind. For $250 I would think that this would not be out of the question. Maybe I will go rob a fucking bank, throw my back out in the process and recieve unabridged healthcare.

  And remember...

  "Remember who?"
  You, you remember.
  "Remember what?"

  Remember that this is all covered by the insurance company of the person who hit the back of my car with the front of their car. I just have to come up with the money before they do.

  "Holy cow Miss McGillicutty. What a conundrum. Hot, CHA cha chaaaa."

  Physical Therapist: "Had you ever had problems with your back before the car accident?"
  Trish: "Well, my wife..." (That is so stupid, Trish! She is your EX-wife. Correct this.) "...I mean my ex-wife..." (Your ex-WIFE? Oh STUPID, Trish. You are female! WIFE??!!)

  Yes, I totally outed myself. I don't know whether to laugh or be pissed at me. The therapist didn't seem outwardly phased to learn that the woman sitting in front of her was married to a woman, but she must have either figured out that A) Duh Trish used to be a guy in the world or B) Trish might be lesbian. With all the little male queues that my physical self puts out, saying "my ex-wife" was I am sure just enough to shift the ballast over to A) the "used to be a guy in the world" side. I am willing to bet money that she did not think I was B) lesbian.

  Real fun morning.

  I have an appointment for next Wednesday and the Wednesday after that. I am trying to keep my spirits up over the whole thing. This needs to work. One good thing did happen. The therapist said she would keep her eye out for any employment options for me. This would be good as she is one person who knows my limitations at this point. I am not holding my breath though.

  Thank you Mom for your help and for standing by me and for your spiritual guidance.

  My mom never reads my Transition Diary. I decided long ago that it would be best if she didn't. Every once in a while I will print out an entry for her to read, but other then that..... I just need to thank her from my heart now and again in front of God (as I see God) and whoever else is looking.

  For the first time since May, on Friday I shaved my face and neck. Man, that felt weird. I did that because my electrolysis was cancelled last week and with my bother-in-law (my ex-wife's brother) and his girlfriend visiting this past weekend, I did not want any hair (read: even two hairs) on my face when we went out. We had a nice time. It was great to see them, really great.

  Hopefully now I won't shave again for some time, if ever. I go to electrolysis on Friday. I need to get my brows done too. Don't look to close, you might see Tarzan and Cheetah swinging around in there.

  Today is my twenty year wedding anniversary, or it would be if I were still married. My divorce was final just a few days over two years ago. I am glad I am past that. Overall I am not unhappy to be divorced now that it is all over with. I'm not too happy about not living with my son (as I have written one jillion and one times), and I am a bit unhappy because of the "damn why couldn't I just have been a happily married everything is great" guy, but overall divorce was for the best. Divorce did help me to see transition happen.

  I met my ex-wife twenty two years ago. I still care about her. I would never want to see her hurt or wronged in any way. How I can feel this after the way she treated me at times is beyond me. There are a few things that I will never forgive her for, but I still care for her and her well-being. Go figure..

  I remember a little over two years ago telling my son that I would be moving to his grandma's house in two weeks. Fifteen days later I was gone. When I think about it, that is very radical; dad gone. For my son, fifteen years of dad always being there and then, abracadabra mysto presto: gone. Not two blocks away, not ten blocks away, not the next city over, but one hundred and seventy two miles away.

  I wonder sometimes how it affected my son when he was alone. I wonder if he cried. When I was nine and my dad walked out the door with a suitcase and not so much as a "Hidee-ho", I cried. It was a little different with my son. He knew it was coming (albeit only two weeks notice) and he knows I love him. I just wonder how he handled it when nobody was looking.

  I gotta go exercise.

   

  "The bedroom set had to be refrigerated to capture the authentic icy breath
  of Linda Blair and cast in the exercising scenes."
  The Exercist: Behind The Scenes

  "Um, Trish?"
  Yeah?
  "That movie is about e-x-o-r-c-i-s-m, not exercise."
  The devil?
  "Yes."

Wednesday, November 10th, 2004

• It is 12:18 am and sometimes I...

  ...hate being straight, sober, whatever you call it more then anything in the freakin world and all I can do about it is either decide to get wasted or whine about it here. Sometimes life is just so friggin what next and there is no escape, no relaxing. I hate that, so much.

  Somebody please pet me.

   

  How much is that doggie, in the window (ruff ruff),
  the one that looks to-ta-lee straight.
  How much is that doggie, in the window (woof woof),
  the one that looks like she needs a freakin ice cold cerveza and vodka chaser (arf arf).
  Trish DaMutt

Wednesday, November 17th, 2004

• I've had two...

  ...drinking dreams, (dreams in which I drink alcohol) in as many days. As I am an alcoholic in recovery, this is bad juju.

  Sometimes there just seems to be an over abundance of "triggers". Triggers are people or things or situations around you that are reminders of your "drug of choice", be it alcohol, drugs, cigarettes or etc. They "trigger" the desire to use. And that is putting it very lightly.

  Lately it seems as though there are many people I am in contact with in one way or another who have been extolling the virtues of the drink or the drug or the cigarette as a relaxation method or a way to avoid the pain of emotion or physical injury. This is done quite innocently by some, but by others it is done vociferously. Both are triggers, and both have been numerous as of late.

  Sometimes it makes me want to scratch the paint off the walls with my fingernails and bang my head against the cement floor. Sometimes it is like being at day one of recovery and the road ahead seems impossibly long and torturous.

  I hate being an addict.

   

  Leave me alone, let me go home,
  let me go back and start over.
  Tom Paxton

Thursday, November 19th, 2004

• Perhaps tonight I...

  ...will have a smoking dream. After three nights of drinking dreams, I could really use a cigarette.

   

  "...And you got the cigarettes, that's what I've been dreaming of."
  Dennis Hopper
  Apocalypse Now