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ramblings |
Diary 3
2002.07.15
OK, it is time for the ultra mega supremo rambling. I have said since my junior high school days that I'm probably the busiest person without a social life you'll ever meet. Now that I have some semblance of a social life I can't say that that's entirely accurate, but I'm still probably one of the busiest people. So this rambling will explain why I've been absent for about a month, why I haven't hardly responded to any of your e-mail, why this site has bits of odds and ends all over, why my voice is hoarse right now, and why I have hardly done any loads of laundry. What is probably the most amazing thing about the following entries is that something interesting has happened almost every single night.
Wednesday, June 19, 2002:
We had our last support group meeting for the year today. How my attitude has changed since I first started going to these support group things. I've gone from being a frightened individual to being one that has relatively few qualms now.
I still recall when my therapist had told me that she had a monthly support group going way way way back in November 1998. I said sheepishly "OK, I'll go" knowing full well I was going to be nervous about it. And nervous I was! Right up until that dreadful January 6 meeting I was debating about going or not. But I went and it proved to be a positive experience.
I did feel very out of place for many reasons: I was the youngest, the least experienced, one of like three people who wasn't dressed en femme, had done nothing with my voice, wasn't on HRT, the most vertically-challenged, and probably the most confused. I can't really quantify that last bit of my statement but I'm sure it was likely I had the most questions. I was a little ball of frustration searching for answers.
Jump to this June 2002 meeting and you now see that I have little problems "dressing" and going out and really just letting my hair down. Nervous? Not even on the radar. I still feel a bit awkward but it's only because I don't really chum with the people in the support group much. There still exists the age barrier which means I'm at a different point in life with different perspective than many of the people in the group. So the feeling is comparable to going to a meeting at work where you meet people from different teams or departments for the first time.
Am I sad to see the group thing finally come to an end? Sure. I almost see it as one of the few ties to the transgendered and transsexual communities I had. It's not that I consciously avoid mixing with trans folk, it's just that it is a low priority. I don't usually associate with people because I have some common medical condition, no. I become friends with people because we have common interests and can grow off one another. That's why I'm fairly certain that if I disappear from the trans community it will be because I'm too busy with keeping up with other aspects of life.
Thursday, June 20, 2002:
This was actually a day I was fairly nervous. I went to go see my endocrinologist in the morning to get a three-month checkup and to request adding estrogens to my HRT regimen. I feared that I would be denied getting a prescription and I think this fear stemmed from the fact that I have never had absolute resolve in transitioning. I've always been of the opinion that transition is something I'll grow into rather than immediately jump into. I'm a complete slowpoke compared to most other people I can think of---about 2 years before starting electrolysis, 3 years before really starting to go out part-time, 3.5 years before starting antiandrogens only. I even said to my endo that while I tried to put it out of my mind, she was still a type of gatekeeper and that always made me nervous. It was like a little test and I didn't know if I had passed it or not. Her comment back was "if your therapist says you're OK then why should I deny you?" I shrugged. Really, she should provide me the medical care that my therapist recommends. But I had heard previously that she had pulled people off their regimens before.
I'm pleased to say that went well and I left the office with scrips in hand. One part of our conversation still rang in my head: am I willing to subject myself to a high risk of cancer and stroke? I am almost certainly predisposed to high blood pressure considering most of both sides of my parent's family is that way. But I found out some disturbing news recently that my mom's side has a lot of cancer running along it. My mom's dad passed away of stroke and my mom's mom had cancer. At least one of my mom's sisters had battled cancer, and one of my cousins died from leukemia.
My endo suggested that I try to get my mom or other members of the family to get tested for the BCRA1 and BCRA2 genes, common breast cancer markers I'm told. My endo also tried to allay my fears a little by saying that the vast majority of (breast) cancer cases don't arise until after 15 years of being on hormones. She also mentioned that cycling hormones gives rise to higher cancer probability, but couldn't say that with 100% certainty. I'm going with a constant rate of estradiol via transdermal patches so I'm hoping this will cut down on the stress on the liver and reduce chances of blood clots. Nonetheless the fact that my bloodline is problematic worries me to no end.
I actually took the day off and to maximize it and got about an hour of electro done before lunch. I still amaze my electrologist to no end that I do facial electrolysis without any anesthetics or pain killers at all. I just really zone out into this semi-sleep state and while it it not pain-free it is certainly not painful. I'm not quite sure how I do it but it arose out of necessity because I found I didn't have enough privacy during the day to start the application of anesthetics when I was at work.
The electrology session was short at about an hour. The electrologist was late and I had to leave around noon. This was one of the more difficult sessions. I was just having a hard time zoning out. I suffer not from a lack of pain but rather fighting boredom. My mind is usually pretty active and so lying still for an hour bothers me. I almost started trying to count holes in the ceiling tiles while she was zapping me.
At lunch I met up with a MTF (who was in guy mode because she hasn't gone full-time yet) and a work buddy. This proves to be a challenge for me because I don't quite know how to refer to her when she's in guy mode. Sure, I should use the male name and pronouns but it just feels weird. I mean, ever since I met this person I have always referred to her as "she" and always with the female name.
I was in full girl mode and we went for semi-Italian food. I think of it as yuppie Italian food that lacks the typical rustic atmosphere of many older Italian establishments. The building, tables, food presentation, staff, and even the typefaces on the menus give that modern look. (Yes, I'm also a graphic arts nerd, not just a techno-geekette.) I always wonder how I'm going to handle running into people I know when I'm in girl mode. Recall that I was in full girl mode at lunch and we were seated outside the restaurant in plain view.
After lunch I was feeling a bit weird with the pantyhose I had on because I am such a klutz that I know I'm going to rip them. So I hopped in my little car and ran back home for a quick change into jeans. Besides, I was still swollen from the day previous so I was beginning to find the 'hose rather bothersome. Jeans were the answer.
Then it was up to a dental imaging place to get X-rays. Apparently Dr. Ousterhout wants people to have X-rays so he can see the bone structure he needs to manipulate. So I went to this office which was somewhat difficult to find and I'm filling out the paperwork without much of a care. I went in and got the X-rays and a copy set for myself. (Too bad insurance doesn't cover this.) When I paid the bill I was using my girl credit card and so I was signing my name away in girl mode when I get the X-rays back with a label with my guy name on it. I had this really weird look on my face as I was trying to figure out how they could know my guy name since I didn't remember ever telling them that! And then it hit me: I had probably listed down my legal name when I was filling out the paperwork. I knew I was tired and I thought I put "Amber" down for the name. I hemmed and hawed for a second debating asking them if they should redo the labels and then I figured it wouldn't matter. All I really needed were the X-rays and the name was superfluous. So I thanked them, signed the bill, and off I went with $180 of X-rays in my hot lil' hands.
Down to Dr. O's place at the Davies Hospital just north of the Castro District. If I thought finding the X-ray place was tough this was a nightmare. Imagine this lost girl running up and down the halls looking for an office that just doesn't seem to exist. So I called up Dr. O's office again and I ended up walking around the hospital buildings and having them guide me to their office. *sigh*
I eventually got there and I checked in at the front desk. I was told to have a seat. Mira, the office manager, finally got around to me and she took me into a room with all the slides from previous patients. I must have looked at dozens of examples. I was primariily interested in seeing how Dr. O has worked with Asian features because I had been told her really only does one kind of nose---my family's noses are more roundish than pointy. I was assured that what really goes on is rearrangement and tapering of the skeletal structures so the soft tissue mass which gives us our ethnic features doesn't really change that much. I saw enough examples to satisfy my curiosity and then Mira and I realized we had spent way too much time looking at samples.
Dr. O was already late for something so he gave me a real quick once-over. It's amazing how he just kind of turns your face around, pulls out a mini ruler, and then grabs all these quick measurements. Our conversation was rapid and brief and then it was back to Mira for price quoting. My jaw dropped when the figures were being laid out. Granted, I don't need everything that they were trying to sell me on but the figures were large regardless. I walked away in this semi-dazed sticker-shock state very similar to what you might feel after you had met up with a car dealer. (Please don't confuse Dr. O with car dealers.)
After ambling back to my car I needed commiseration so I happily unloaded on a MTF friend who consoled me back to sanity. I owe her one for this. Then it was the long drive back home where soon after I pretty much crashed on my pillow.
Friday, June 21, 2002:
Dropped off my scrips before heading to work. I picked them up afterwards and I was pretty happy about getting the estradiol patches in addition to the spiro pills. However I got the bill there and it wasn't the expected $15 co-pay, no it was like $85!!! I did a double-take at the pharmacy counter and was informed that the bulk of the expense was the spiro refill, the reason being I was requesting a refill too soon. Eh? I asked them why and we debated for a couple of minutes before it dawned on me that I did in fact get a refill of spiro just a week and a half prior! I totally didn't think there was a penalty for refilling so soon. Grrr... So I was told I have to wait until July 6 to get reimbursement so now I have to do the awkward thing of calling up my insurance and asking for reimbursement. *sigh*
Saturday, June 22, 2002:
Spent time at my parent's house tending to their plants. They were away on a much deserved vacation so I figured I should drop by and check out the house. I did so and text messaged my mom from my cellular to hers. She thought that was the neatest thing---she's just getting used to using a cellular.
This was the first reprieve in days for myself as well. I plopped my trusty laptop down on their kitchen island and started making some adjustments to this site. (I'm still not done!!!)
Sunday, June 23, 2002:
Day 2 of full HRT. I had been on spironolactone since March 21 though I had felt almost no change emotionally or physically. (What a neat number: 3/21. Easy to remember!) So Friday I slapped the first 0.1mg/day patch on my side. Now on Sunday I figured I had better get a baseline to monitor my progress. I took a bunch of pictures and started keeping a personal log to record:
- weight
- blood pressure (left and right arms)
- neck circumference
- vertical hemicircular breast measurement
- horizontal hemicircular breast measurement
- left bicep (relaxed and clenched)
- natural waistline
- lower waistline
- hips
- left thigh circumference
- left calf circumference
Monday, June 24, 2002:
My first change of patches. I stood in the bathroom trying to pull it off and it just wouldn't. It was really stuck on there good. So I hopped in the shower and took my shower. About midway through I tried again and it still wasn't working with me well. I finally held an edge and yanked with a quick intense motion and it came off---not without a bit of pain though. I hoped future patches wouldn't be as bad. As it turned out none have been this bad. Things to note were that this was the shortest time period I've ever had a patch on (a little over 2 days) and I was making a conscious effort all the time to make sure it stayed dry.
Tuesday, June 25, 2002:
Went out for dinner with a MTF friend and her GG friend. Some time during dinner I got back a little white envelope with some pictures in it, and not just any old bunch of photos I can assure you. No, these were pictures of me at different stages. Like when I was in my senior year of college with really really short hair (which I had cut for an interview), me with my cousins, me with my then-girlfriend at a birthday dinner, and then me as of April of this year. You can just see the massive changes that have gone on with me. And all of this had to do with hair. Yeah, hair! The things that happened:
- I grew my hair out. It has taken about 2.5 solid years of growth.
- I slowly pruned my brows back during the same time.
- And I had almost completely cleared facial electrolysis.
One interesting thing to note: for the first time in conscious memory my seatbelt was annoying me. In retrospect I think HRT was starting to ramp up. I was starting to feel something in and around the areolas back on June 24 but now things were getting more intense.
Thursday, June 27, 2002:
Saw my regular physician. He's so far been pretty cool about the whole transition thing. I talked to him about 3 years ago about whether or not he'd be OK with me transitioning and he said OK. I checked with him again recently and he still said he's OK with me. So, between this appointment and my last I had been on spironolactone for about three months. In that time I guess one thing that has positively happened is that my high blood pressure has totally gone down! It went from an average of about 134/95 to 120/75. To say my doctor was very pleased is an understatement.
Met up with my ex-girlfriend for dinner. We're still friends and we still meet up about once a week. "It's a pity," is what she said when we broke up almost a year ago. I think of that statement every now and then. Not a happy thought. In many ways she was my best friend. *sigh*
Friday, June 28, 2002:
My vacation begins now. Next week is the 4th of July holidays and that means we get Thursday and Friday off. Well, I put in for Paid Time Off (PTO) to get Monday through Wednesday off and now I have between now and July 9 as vacation! Yup. Spend 3 days of PTO and get 9 days of vacation! But this isn't going to be a fun vacation because I have lots of things lined up.
I've actually been looking forward to this for several weeks now because I'm pretty tired of meetings. I have been spending about 20-35 hours in meetings each week now and during those times I can't really check e-mail or do any web surfing. When I get home I've been so exhausted staring at computer screens and projected screens that I really don't care to turn on the computer again for a while. As a result my e-mail In Box has been steadily piling up with unanswered mail...
Saturday, June 29, 2002:
Met up with some T* friends that night. I talked to my roommates about setting up a multiplayer video gaming session that night as well, so I left my house en drab with my laptop in tote. I arrived at my T* friends' place and when the screen door opened there was this beautiful woman in a nice summery dress accented by floral patterns. "You look wonderful," I said as I gave her a big hug. She smiled, but there was something else behind the smile I could tell. I look over to her right and there is my other friend who is also dressed up a little in a black dress with floral accents. "Wow, you look good too," I mentioned. And then it hits me: we're going out and it's not to an extremely casual place. My mouth sort of hung open and my eyes searched the floor for answers. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were going out," I tried to say. We had the choice of eating in or going out, and I thought that if we were going out that we'd be going to some place really casual like a little diner. And here I was still standing in their doorway with my jeans, old t-shirt, and a denim shirt loosely draped over that. I felt so pedestrian to the point of embarrassment. Really, I didn't think we were going out to some place not so casual---I was dressed in preparation for the gaming later that night. They tried to reassure me that it would still be OK. I mean, what can any of us do at that point?
I drove to the restaurant nestled in the foothills of our valley and it was a fairly nice one. Even if I was to casual in Guy Mode I would have preferred to at least be in khakis and a polo shirt. Before I stepped out of the car I said (in my Girl Mode voice) I'm going to revert back to Guy Mode voice because I just didn't feel all that feminine at the moment. They were saying "you know all you really have to do is just untie your hair and keep your voice up and you'd probably be taken for a girl," but I felt pretty ugly at that point so I wasn't going to entertain that idea. During the dinner they did refer to me by my Girl Mode name---which doesn't bother me. But, if anyone was overhearing our conversation I'm sure that it would have been a rather interesting conversation.
Dinner came and went, and then I was off to a long night of gaming. Video games is still one of my strong male-ish pursuits. Though, I have to say that it's probably not the video game itself what I like but rather the comaraderie that comes of doing multiplayer stuff. I had too much caffeine that night for my own good.
Sunday, June 30, 2002:
Went out to dim sum with some friends. Man, I hadn't had dim sum in ages! It's funny, though, when I go to dim sum that when I order I have to order in Chinese. Here's the catch: I don't speak Chinese. (HUH?!) Well, you see, every time I've gone to dim sum in the past my parents always referred to the food by its Cantonese name. As such I grew up only knowing that. So when the waitresses come around to my table proffering their rice-wrapped morsels they start speaking to me in English because that's the only way we communicate. But if they don't open the baskets to show me what the item is I have to ask them what they are selling in Chinese names. "What's that? Shrimp dumpling? Uh, what is it again? Oh, siu mai. OK! Sure!" *gobble* *gobble* Ugh, stuck between two cultures.
I stopped by a Borders bookstore later in the evening, though I can't remember exactly why. But I do remember I finally bought the "Making Faces" book by Kevyn Aucoin. I remember the first time I saw it years ago I figured that I'd buy it some day and at last I did. It has a boatload of pictures and goes through many different examples. Kevyn even takes a genetic male and with clever usage of shadow and taping he achieved a radical transformation. It's quite impressive.
Oh yeah, measured myself again. No changes other than my weight has been dropping quite a bit. I think it must be water retention changes because the tissues couldn't have rearranged themselves so quickly.
Monday, July 1, 2002:
I love to watch people squeam when I say "genital electrolysis". I can even hear the screams of horror in the distance. Sometimes I think I'm just a sadist. My American Heritage CD-ROM dictionary defines "sadism" as:
...I'm such a little stinker.
2. Delight in cruelty.
3. Extreme cruelty.
(For more recent examples of facetious cruelty in action read up on
July 11th's entry below.)ANYHOW... So I went bright and early to my endo's office to get all shot up on lidocaine and some other odd concoction. This is an absolutely necessity if I am to get any sort of sleep and/or work done while I'm getting genital electrolysis. (This will be explained.) So my doctor goes in and pokes and injects and I'm feeling all numb down there. After she's done I look down and I swear I was surprised 70cc of fluid fit down there. (Think like small cup of tea.)
All numbed up I waddled over to my car. I still think it's just a really weird feeling when you can't feel parts of your body and yet know they are there. I actually was worried at one point of sitting down on myself the wrong way because normally I would feel the pain of things being pinched but now there was no indicator. I was able to drive OK however.
I drove to my electrologist's only a few blocks away and tried typing out some thoughts. I didn't get too far before my electrologist pulled up outside the closed shop and unlocked the doors. We said our good morning hellos and I got up onto her table. With my laptop beside me and its keyboard accesibility options turned on (so I can one-hand the keyboard) we started work. I didn't feel a thing though she was hitting me really hard. I swear with all the heat energy we were pumping into my groin region it gives new meaning to that lyric "chestnuts roasting on an open fire."
I have to say that this was the most fun electrology session I've ever had! Really, it sounds impossible but I was so numbed up and because I could move my jaw freely it actually allowed us to have conversation for the 5.5 hours we were working. It was a pure blast, I tell ya.
I thought I was going to spend most of my time listening to music and typing on my laptop but we ended up talking most of the time about nonsense. Our topics ranged from why singularities might be really cool ways to accomplish intergalactic travel to who gives good SRS to disposing of trash in portable black holes to weenie roasting. I don't remember exactly what we talked about but I do recall that we spend a good deal of time laughing at things. Her quote about me was "girl, you have a wicked sense of humor." That I do. That I do. Oh yeah, I got no work done or any sleep because we were always talking about something.
At the end of the session I looked down and I surmised that by the mess of what we had made I was going to be quite the unhappy camper for the next few days. I took out a maxi pad, stuck it into my undies, and gingerly slid them on. While I couldn't feel a thing, I still recognized the area had just received the equivalent of a third degree burn so I was trying to keep it dry and not very compressed. I had actually picked out some of my looser-fitting boy undies just for this purpose---thongs were really not appropriate here.
We said our goodbyes and I slid into my car. I drove the 40 minutes to another MTF friend's place even though it's only about 7 miles away. It's all the stupid traffic in the San Francisco Bay Area that makes commutes during rush hour so horrible. I've grown up around here and I remember back in the old days how light traffic used to be. Then again, back then a nice single family home could be had for under $100k, there were lots of fields and orchards still left, people drove big clunky sedans at reasonable speeds, and you couldn't see the air. My friend has been here for decades though she wasn't originally from here and she has noticed the changes too. We lamented about these things, the reeking job market, and various transsexual issues.
Sometime in the evening we finally parted ways where I returned home still in girl mode. Both my roommates were around when I stepped in through the door. I think they're getting more used to seeing me like this. It always makes them ask, "oh so what have you been up to today?" I love it when I told them about the electrolysis and they do this smirk/chortle combo---a smortle? Toilet humor usually ensues, like some off-color remark about someone having "great balls of fire." I'm expecting a Beavis and Butthead moment where someone then says "uh, huh huh, you said balls... huh huh." You can tell what kind of roommates I have.
Tuesday, July 2, 2002:
Since my last visit to Dr. O's place was so rushed I made a second consultation---it's not like their office is that far away. So this time around I really got to get into the details of what their procedures are, recovery times, suggested preparation, aftercare, and the costs. If I only chose the procedures I wanted versus all that they recommended I could still buy a decent car with the amount. But at least now I know better where I stand and what I may be able to afford.
Afterwards I hopped across the city to another surgeon, Dr. Brownstein, who also performs surgeries on transgendered people. I'm informed that he is probably more well known with FTM patients, but he does have certain MTF procedures available. Whereas Dr. O deals more with bone structure Dr. Brownstein works on tissues and cartilage. Now I have two points of comparison for tracheal shaves. It's now more a case of where I want the scar from the incision required to access the thyroid cartilage.
After both office visits I paid a special visit to the Esprit warehouse. I actually didn't know that it was out there though I had heard something of it about three years ago when I was hanging out with another person in SF a bit more. I just happened to drive by this warehouse by accident while I was getting lost trying to find Dr. Brownstein's office. What really caught my eye were huge banners screaming "50%-80% off!!!" I mean, how can you resist going when you've got a name brand saying something like that?
So I went in and it was pretty sparse. There were lots of racks to be sure but it was slim selection. Most of the things were vibrant colors (which is not me), ruffles (which I don't like), or require hips (which I don't have). I suppose if I were a 17-year-old GG who likes the night life I would have had a blast, but I'm not. I suppose I also would have not minded the fact that they had a communal changing area, but I mind at this stage. So I sort of did my usual eyeball estimation technique to guess my exact size---FYI, I did get the right sizes. I did find a bunch of sleepwear, some shoes, and a black velvet skirt. The cool thing was I had six items and that meant I got an additional 10% off. If you get 12 or more you get 20% off additional. So I think I did minimal damage to my credit card.
At the Esprit checkout I had a short conversation with the guy there. I couldn't quite tell if he was being friendly, reading me, or actually trying to get to know me a bit better. When I had been standing in line I didn't see him making the same amount of conversation with the other women who had come by. *shrug* I guess I'll never know but he seemed to be overly-friendly, not just the usual chit-chat about the weather. How times have changed though from when I used to get sweats just fearing to speak to people. Now I'm just there right in people's faces holding pleasant conversation. Oh how times have changed...
Then it was off to another T* friend's place for dinner. I talked to my mom on the cellular phone as I was driving back to this friend's place. Mom's always worried that talking on the phone while driving is going to get me in an accident. I tend to agree but I'm stubborn. I do use a hands-free kit and I rarely talk when I'm around other traffic. Here I felt pretty safe because I knew where I was going, I was on the freeway, and there wasn't much traffic on the road. Really, it was a pretty boring drive made less boring by a phone call.
Anyways, Mom and I made the July 4th grocery list. I was to cook this year doing pretty much the entire meal. My dad has a Weber BBQ and so I said I'd get the ground beef and fixings so we could do hamburgers. We settled on hamburgers garnished with tomatoes, ketchup, mustard, Mom's Special Sauce, red onion, a touch of butter; potato salad and green iceberg lettuce on the side; some kind of pie or cake for dessert.
I eventually arrived at the T* friend's house about an hour later. We meet up once in a blue moon so we both always have a lot to talk about. She has seen me through the changes since I met her back probably around March 1999. However, the catch here is that because she's seen me infrequently everytime I meet with her she sees jumps in my presentation and thought. My friends and even my family see me on a much more frequent basis so I'm supposing there isn't such a stark contrast to my "progress". She was sort of taken aback at how much I've changed physically and also in terms of my resolve.
We went out to a café nearby and had a nice dinner. I'm actually very glad we went to this particular place because they have long draping tablecloths. If you recall, it was only yesterday that I had gotten genital electrolysis and I was really starting to feel the aftereffects. One of the problems is that with everything so swollen I couldn't sit with my legs together or crossed. No, I've been pretty spread-eagle * since this morning. (Hey, no one can see you sitting like that in a car!) So, from the side view I'm sure everything looked normal but I just couldn't sit all lady-like so I was sprawled out underneath the tablecloth.
An interesting thing happened at dinner which just completely took me off-guard. Our waiter was a nice kid probably not far out of high school or currently in college, probably working the café as a summer job. He did his usual waiter thing by telling us about the specials of the day, taking our order, etc. After our food had arrived he came back to check in on us. We both said everything was fine and just as he turned away I sort of did this double-take. My friend was still carrying on conversation with me but my mind turned to the thought: hey, he's actually kinda cute. Too young for me, but cute nonetheless. It was only moments after that I realized what I had just done and the impact of what just transpired hit me. I had actually taken brief interest in another guy. I don't know where my sexuality is going to end up post-transition but I can tell you that new things are coming to the surface now. I never had that much interest in women sexually and now I definitely know what interest there was is waning in favor of interest in guys.
Anyhow, back at my friend's home we chatted for a while. One of her comments I recall was "just look at you, you're not even trying and you're passing." I had to ask for a little clarification because really it has been four years of therapy, electrolysis, and only recently starting HRT. I'm a long ways off from transition even. She then elucidated that she meant I hadn't really had any surgery or gone full-time and yet people treat me as any other woman out there.
What's getting me by at this point is mostly my inner spirit, a little voice work, clothes that sort of androgynize my body, and (of course) longer hair. I agreed with her that it was sort of an amazing thing if you think about it. For some reason I've been given a chance to sort of get a preview of things to come without having to really make a strong commitment. If I were to back out now by trimming my hair and purging my clothes, it is unlikely that anyone would ever really know what I had done. Sure I could never grow a beard and I might have a few fertility issues, but those problems are not uncommon for genetic males, so I could "pass" as a guy again.
I got home fairly late, maybe around 10-ish. One of my roomies is on the floor in our living room (because we have no furniture [which is a long story in itself]) and tells me the other roommate is going to a local computer store for the release of a major video game (Warcraft III) right now. Apparently tonight was the first release of the game. We all eventually got to the store around 11:30p and the lines were already forming to buy the game. At least they let us inside the store so we got to look at the computers set up. There were large black boxes for the Collector's Edition (which 4 of us bought), normal-sized boxes for the regular edition, and action figures. Within minutes a long line for the checkout had formed. Fortunately we were in the front 1/3rd of the line and had picked up our software before it was all gone. At the stroke of midnight the checkstands opened and we all marched forward with credit cards in hand.
We all headed back to one of the people's houses and set up with our laptops and desktops. By about 1:00a all of us had the games installed and configured and we started playing. It's a very pretty game with lots of RPG elements * in it but still retaining the RTS * feel.
So we're playing along and around 2:00a I'm starting to get antsy. I don't know if anyone else really noticed this but I was shifting around a lot in my chair. I said I'd take a break and went out for food. When I came back and started eating at the house I only got about halfway through before I was feeling pretty bad. There was just this amazing itch that was definitely just below skin level that was bugging the heck out of me. I went into a corner and did the very unlady-like thing of scratching. That didn't help. I went into the bathroom and tried cold water on some toilet paper and then applied it to the electrolysis site. That helped some but still this was getting bad.
I eventually came back out and played a little more and ate a little more. But by 3:00a it was getting unbearable. I left the gaming session and laid down on the couch. After the other guys' session was through I said I had to go. So the roomie that carpooled with me and I left.
Back at home I used a little more cold water and a little more massaging. Damn, it was like the site was on fire. I waddled back to my room and grabbed an unopened container of anesthetic (lidocaine and tetracaine cream) and gooped it onto the site. Ever see that Tivo commercial with Joe Montana and Ronnie Lott about "masculine itching"? Well I was thinking about that when I dug my fingers into the canister and pulled out a hideous wad of cream. I tried to see the humor in that situation but I was in so much pain I just couldn't do more than wince.
The goopy stuff when on and I changed into loose-fitting clothes. Into bed I slid and I thought I could try to get some sleep. You know that lack of sleep increases sensitivity to pain, right? But I would not be able to sleep much at all. I was waking up every 30 to 40 minutes having to massage the site---I learned as a child never ever scratch your skin if it's itchy because you'll risk breaking the skin. I periodically ran to the bathroom and applied a little more of the layer of anesthetic. When you first put it on the site feels warm and then goes numb. Too bad it doesn't last that long.
I was on the verge of tears so many times but I held them back. It wasn't sharp pain but that kind of itchy burning pain. I had a real hard time getting into a relaxed state where I could begin to drift off to sleep. Sometime in that morning I did finally fall asleep probably out of pure exhaustion. Oh, that night so sucked.
Wednesday, July 3, 2002:
I was really tired when I left my place at 6:30a. Recall that I probably had just gotten to bed around 4:00a. But I pried my beaten body out of its warm resting place in the sheets and threw on some equally-beaten up clothes. I climbed into my car and drove it to the dealer's. My air conditioning system has been going wacky for the past few months to the point of nearly discharging itself of its freon. So I got it recharged and it was time to bring it back in to see if any of the new freon was leaking out---plus, I was almost due for an oil change.
I eventually got helped on a first-come-first-serve basis and lugged my laptop into the showroom/waiting room. I asked about a free desk and got a space where I could plug in for power. I didn't know how long I'd be there waiting for my car so I figured it was a good idea to keep my laptop on AC power. I started typing out more pages for this site but I forget which ones I actually wrote.
The service rep came up later and said they couldn't find the leak in the air conditioning system. Nuts. So now I have a slow leak and I don't know where it is. I guess I'll just have to wait for some hellishly hot day to find out I can't get any cold air in the car.
Back to home around 10:00a I was just so beat. I slid back into my jammies and kind of laid on my bed but not really in it. It wasn't until afternoon when I finally got my butt up. I took a long shower to wash off the past two days, and somehow made it out to the supermarket. After that I went shopping at Macy's. I can't remember the real purpose why I was there but I do know I was buying gifts for birthdays. I think I was killing time before dinner.
Dinner at a Chinese hot pot place. In the center of the table there was an electric hot table. This is a place where they give you a stainless steel bowl filled with soup. You boil this soup and order various items to dump into it. After the items are cooked you just fish them out of the broth and chomp away. There were five of us and we ordered the spicy broth. If you can't stand spicy you shouldn't get it. We had terrible service and almost got charged double for our meat dishes. What sucked was that there was no manager on duty. I don't think I'll be eating there for a while.
Another gaming session ensued with our new toy, Warcraft III.
Thursday, July 4, 2002:
Happy Independence Day! I got up nice and late. One of my roomies, my ex, my parents, and I made a quaint party of five over at my parent's house. I carpooled with my roomie in his convertible---or his "hairdryer" as he refers to it. I have learned that when riding in his car to keep my hair banded or under a cap at all times. Otherwise I will get that really ratty windblown look as well as trapping grease and dust in it. It's pretty nasty and makes me wonder how women really like convertibles at all.
At my parent's house Mom and I started prepping. I actually did double-duty because I had to run out back and start the coals for the grill. I also did a bit of cleaning of various utensils. I think I freak out my parents by the speed at which I move around their house to get all this stuff done. It's one more reason why I like living on my own and being able to run my own wild schedule. Muahahaaa...
The burgers came out a bit smallish and a tad on the well done side for my taste, but they were still pretty good. We ate in the sheltered patio which my Dad just cleaned up---you don't know how good it was to see that place all tidy after months of decay. It was a real good day for a BBQ. Mom went a bit overboard with the desserts making a chocolate spongecake thingy and this raspberry/blueberry pie combo with ice cream. It was a lot of food. I even ended up taking back most of the hamburger buns and all of the meat. I ate a hamburger patty each morning for the next week. It's a good thing I'm more carnivore than veggie-vore. (Though I have been moderating my meat intake as of recent.)
I think I went to bed semi-early because I was just tired.
Friday, July 5, 2002:
Woke up semi-early and met a couple of friends over at a special store for discounted electronics products. One of the friends has an employee discount so I was hoping to score some sweet deals on electronics. I ended up selecting a digital camera but it wasn't in stock. So hopefully one of these days I'll get an e-mail or phone call saying it's on the way. It's a niiiiiiice camera and probably too much for me. But I rationalized that it had the features I wanted and will hopefully give good enough quality to last me for a while.
Outside the store our group went from three to two, including myself. The remaining friend had a lot on her mind so we stood around and chatted for what seemed like forever---probably only 20 minutes or so. I have been told I'm a good active listener so I tend to spend a lot of time in deep conversations.
Eventually the cellular phones started ringing and we found out where we were going to meet. Another friend from out of the country came in and that friend wanted to eat as her first meal ... Taco Bell. Yeah, of all the possible foods we have in this area we went to Taco Bell. May I remind you that there are rumors that the meat filling they use incorporates matter which is not even up to the standards of the lowest grade dog food. But, goodness, it tastes awesome. (Yes, if you're wondering, I survived on a diet of Taco Bell, Jack in the Box, and cafeteria food when I was in college.) The five of us at lunch even took pictures of her eating the food. Crazy, eh? Apparently Taco Bell isn't existent in Tokyo.
From there it was off to the malls. We spent most of our time just walking around, so nothing really interesting happened. Of course my Japanese friend made many comments on my long hair as the last time she'd seen me it was drastically shorter. (All the girls tend to notice and play with my hair. What's up with that?
) I also got plenty of abuse
(e.g. typical gay jokes)
from the guys in the group about how girly I now look.
Whatever. I played along. I'm used to this.I wanted to duck into the stores and do some personal girl-type shopping, but seeing as how I was in Guy Mode and all the other friends were there I didn't think it would be wise. We all did eventually end up at Victoria's Secret. As a side note, I'm no longer bothered by going into lingerie stores the way I used to be. I actually now think some of the stuff VS sells is pretty cool. But, alas, I lack the body to do them justice so I know not to buy anything now. One day, perhaps...
We hit an Italian place that night. Mmmmmm.... Calamari appetizers... I have a serious weakess for calamari. I still get a little freaked out by the mini calamari with all the tentacles and the head in one unit, but I overlook that because of the taste. Anyways, somewhere along the line our group of 5 expanded to 8 and we had a racous time.
After dinner we talked in the parking lot for probably half and hour and then parted ways. I went to bed almost immediatly and I assumed everyone else would too. The following day we were to drive up to the Napa Valley wine country for some tasting and tours.
As a side note: I was probably about 127 lbs. at this time but between now and July 10 I'd be overeating a lot. I'm sure I probably hit about 132 lbs. at one point.
Saturday, July 6, 2002:
My assumption about everyone else having gone to sleep early was quickly broken when people started arriving at my place somewhat groggy. Our two main drivers had been up all the previous night until like 6:00a or 7:00a talking knowing full well that they had to drive the two hours to the wine country and they would be drinking. Ugh. I just don't understand them. I had serious reservations about either of them driving on only 1.5 hours of sleep. I go sleep deprived but never to that point!
Fortunately the way the carpools were structured there would be multiple drivers in each car so if our two main drivers felt incapable we could switch off. I ended up in the "girl car"---partly by design and partly by circumstance. That is, my car had three girls and myself, the other car was fully loaded with four guys brimming with too much testosterone.
We cruised by the Hakusan Sake Gardens and did a short tasting. I found out I really don't like premium sake at all. Too bitter and a odd aftertaste. But, I do really like the flavored sake. I guess this goes right along with my thing about me liking fruity alcohol and disliking all the hard stuff. I like to taste my drinks rather than feel them.
After that we eventually made it to the Robert Mondavi winery. That's a pretty cool place. I harken back to the old days when I was a wee toddler when there used to be a Paul Masson pretty close by. I went on at least two or three tours there and I still remember the scent of the wine. That place has since been bulldozed in favor of a large freeway cutting through lower Silicon Valley. But the Mondavi place was similar. Their newest fermentation facility was cool. The wine tasting afterwards was pretty good as well. I now know that I'm building up a greater tolerance to alcohol, but three glasses of wine did make me sort of woozy. I'll stay away from bars for a while longer, thank you.
We found dinner somewhere in downtown Napa and since all the stores were closed we just headed back home afterwards. Everyone was beat and it was fairly late (9:00p) when I got home so nothing else happened.
Sunday, July 7, 2002:
We were going to go hiking or driving out somewhere but because we had to stay local to the area we decided to hit the malls and go mini golf. We had a pretty tasty variety of pizzas from the California Pizza Kitchen (CPK). If you've never been there, they have various themed pizzas on thin New York style crusts. My favorite is the Peking Duck which has crispy wonton, duck, hoisin sauce, and a light amount of cheese. I think the BLT is the most interesting one because it really does taste just like a BLT sandwich!
The way this particular CPK is situated the outdoor eating area is on the lee side of the mall with a gentle breeze and shade. It was a real pleasant dining experience.
Mini golf was the next target. I hadn't done this in ages and that was real fun. It wasn't even quite that hot outside. We all got through the course and hung around a little bit afterwards. I popped into the arcade to check out their DDR machines. I put my token down in line and waited. There was this guy doing his moves and he was just simply amazing. It was the first time I had seen someone do it with his style. His timing was near impeccable and he knew the hardest of the hard songs. I was amazed to say the least. I felt really crappy playing following an act like that---I'm a casual user. I did terrible to say the least. Ugh. I was totally off on my coordination.
We went for dinner somewhere, checked my out-of-town friend into a different hotel, and then said goodbye.
I did my weekly measurements. Using the tape to measure the breast area has been annoying. But more significantly, my blood pressure has dropped again. On both arms it's now reading around 110/60. No kidding. I couldn't believe it. So I guess I'm trading low blood pressure for higher cancer risk...
Monday, July 8, 2002:
Back to work. Arghh. I guess having a job is a good thing, though, considering how many of my friends have lost theirs. I don't take that for granted, believe me. I just don't like the fact I'm in meetings all day long. Fortunately I had a little time to catch up on some e-mail and documentation in the morning.
I had a coupon for $10 off an online retailer so I cruised the catalogs in the evening. I didn't know what to buy because I have a lot of the basics now in my girl wardrobe and I don't want anything new for my guy wardrobe. I finally settled on some sports bras. I figure I'm going to need them anyways so I did the selection and checkout process.
Somewhere in the evening I made it back to the arcade I was in the night previous. My roommate was with me and we both split a pile of tokens. I got some serious time on the DDR machine and redeemed myself. I found I got used to the feel of the arcade pads versus the soft plastic ones I have for the home version. In fact, I did fairly well, if I do say so myself.
Tuesday, July 9, 2002:
Made arrangements for a group dinner for tomorrow. Our out-of-towner is going to be leaving on a flight tomorrow so we thought we'd do a farewell dinner. I booked an Italian place for ten or so people and sent out all the e-mails.
I grabbed dinner at McDonald's and ate it at home. My head was actually throbbing which is highly unusual because I rarely get headaches. I surmised that from the amount of sweating I've been doing, the heat of the day, and the low blood pressure that I'm having some kind of sodium deprivation. So when I got home I took out my shaker of garlic salt (mmm...) and literally poured it on my french fries. Oh, it was sooooo good. I drank a lot of liquids too. And, what do you know, in about 15 minutes my headache went away and I felt a lot better in general. It wasn't just the food but I'm pretty sure it was lack of salt. My endo and physician both warned me about the diuretic effects of spironolactone.
Sometime really late at night a bunch of us met up for dinner at a Chinese place. Apparently a few people hadn't gotten food so they scarfed it down while I just chatted away. We went for snacks after that in the same mall complex where most people got this boba lai cha drink which is pretty popular. It's tea with condensed milk and large tapioca balls in it. The whole thing is very sweet and smooth and the bonus is you have to suck the tapioca balls up through a large straw and chew them. This may not sound appetizing to you but trust me that it is addictive if you get over the sucking/chewing part. I have many a frequent buyer card in my wallet!
The mall just happens to be across from where I and one of my friends works so we gave our Japanese friend a tour of the facilities. It was cool to be able to do that and show her how we work. Many companies in Japan still have this rigid hierarchy and group-oriented workroom. That is in high contrast to the cube farms and lots of individual freedom that we have. We took pictures, drew on whiteboards, played darts, and did office chair races down the empty hallways. It was a blast to be sure and I hope it was memorable for her.
Wednesday, July 10, 2002:
The farewell dinner was tonight. We had a few people join our soirée that hadn't joined us for the few nights previous. All the greetings went around as usual. And yes, there was a girl who hadn't seen me in a while gives me a hug and ... drum roll ... says "man, your hair has gotten long." Like I said, that is the one thing that almost everyone says to me these days. *eye roll*
Dinner was good and in short time it was all over. Pictures taken, food consumed, leftovers packed, farewell hugs given. The night over we all returned to our respective homes.
On a side note: I was rapidly running out of clean laundry by now. I have been on the go so much since 2 weeks ago I haven't had a chance to really do it. For the clean laundry I did manage to do, it has been sitting in a laundry basket next to my bed for over a week. Sad, eh?
Thursday, July 11, 2002:
Met up with a T* friend after work. This was the first time in over a week I've met up with anyone from the Community. We went for this Western-style ribs and sandwich joint where I had the weirdest meatloaf I've ever had. Much less the meaty taste and more an organic one---must have been the capers they threw into it. We went for ice cream afterwards.
During all of this both of us are recanting our (pre)transition experiences. She's one who is still part-time. We talked about why both of us were a little depressed but not. I gave her enough graphic descriptions of my recent genital electrolysis sessions to make her cringe. Though we both found ourselves rolling around with laughter from some of the descriptions. (Talk about a bipolar conversation.) We made great analogies to the size of the anesthesized testicles to Christmas ornaments. We also talked about how annoying/painful/debilitating seat belts can be to people with sensitive breasts. I think we decided that anyone embarking on HRT should receive a warning paper like:
WARNING: HRT may impair your ability to operate automobiles and heavy machinery. Your lucky numbers are: 36AA 36A 36B 36C.I think warnings should also apply to edges of doors, backpacks, and shower puffs. (Hey, those puffs are abrasive!!!)
Friday, July 12, 2002:
Down to a local bloodwork lab to get my hormone levels (testosterone and estradiol) analyzed. I was surprised at how many people were there---must have been about a dozen. I thought I'd be in and out of the office in about half an hour, but after seeing the line I knew I'd be there for an hour. When I finally got in I was stuck with the needle and out popped two vials of blood samples. That was probably the fastest, easiest time I've ever had drawing blood and maybe it's because I've been stuck with so many needles in the past couple of years.
My department actually had a team-building day so we played hooky for the late morning and late afternoon. We ended up going to Italian and doing mini golf. (You'd think I'd be tired of Italian by now but I grew up eating it about 4 times a week. If I cut myself I wouldn't be surprised if marinara came out instead of blood.) It was hot. I sweat a ton out there on the golf course. This was definitely one of the hotter days we've had in our locale.
Reeking of sweat and chlorine (because I hit my ball into the water hazards three too many times) I went home in the late afternoon for a quick shower. On the way back I picked up my refills on the estradiol patches. I always wonder if anyone is going to ask me why I need estradiol... But, I got home moments later and into the shower. It was really just a jump in and out of the shower, and then it was off to dinner.
We had a party for my ex since it was her birthday. There were about 14 of us there and we had ... drum roll ... Italian. (Yes, I really do like it! [I almost have to, eh?]) It was pretty expensive coming out to $32 a head. We also did a gift opening at the end as well as sing the obligatory Birthday Song at obnoxious sound levels. (We're so uncouth.)
It was off to karaoke after that for 10 or 11 of us. We had the room from Hell. Nothing seemed to work, it was small and cramped (like it was really supposed to fit the advertised 10 people?!), and the service sucked. My ex got so flustered she actually went out and negotiated with the staff and we eventually got a real nice room. Most importantly: everything worked! Whoohoo!!! ... Ahem ... So by the time we got that resolved it was already 10:30p. We sang for a while and that while turned into hours. Before we knew it, the clicker for entering in new songs wasn't taking any more songs and I looked at my cellular phone's clock: 2:30a!!! We had been karaoke-ing for four hours nonstop! Unbelievable. We were all feeling pretty hoarse and the stench of smoke from neighboring rooms had permeated our clothes and hair.
We eventually made it outside and inhaled the cool night air. $160 for 8 of us to do karaoke for four hours. Sheesh. (Yes, by 10:30p we only had 8 people left. I do know how to count.) We said our final "happy birthday" and parted.
It was a bittersweet night for me. I really sometimes miss not being with my ex. She was my best friend and we had a great time. At the end of that night, though, we didn't even hug. It was just a casual wave followed by "see you later." She going her way and I mine. It was for the best, I keep telling myself. For her sake and mine.
Saturday, July 13, 2002:
Slept in late and woke up groggy as heck. I still reeked of smoke, but I figured I'd change my sheets today so no matter if I stunk. One of my roomies and I carpooled up to another friend's place who was going to show us all how to do a good tiramisu sans rum and zabliogne.
My roomie and I showed up first. Our friend's roommate answered the door but I got a call from Mom so I took off my shoes and made my way to a quieter part of the house to chat. Sometime near the end of te conversation two more girls (friends of ours) arrived. I hadn't seen them in ages so we all do a round of hugs. And you know what happened next. "Wow, your hair is so long," one says. "And soft!" pipes the other. I randomly select one of my typical replies and in my semi-hoarse voice I say: "yeah, I like to feed it lots of conditioner."
Anyhow, we get around to actually making the tiramisu. The host (who is the master of this recipe) is cracking open eggs and the weirdest thing happens: every single egg we used had twin yolks. Weird... We threw in eight eggs and would have had 16 yolks but one slipped out from his hands so we had 15 mini yolks. A while later the tiramisu was all laid out in pans and we put them to set up in the fridge.
The five of us (because our host's roommate had to work) went down to a little Indian restaurant. It's buffet style and there was hardly anyone there so it was pretty cozy. The funniest thing happened literally behind my back. I went up for seconds (or thirds as it may have been) at the buffet bar and as I'm heaping out some Aloo Gobi and Tandoori Chicken one of the girls in our group comes up and stands next to me. She says something and I said something, but I don't remember, but we were standing side by side. I think I hear something so I turn around and there are the other three people in our group rolling on the ground with laughter.
"Whaaaa??!" I demand as I sit back down at the table. They finally explain that they thought I sort of looked like a girl from the back with my hair back in its usual ponytail, but they weren't quite sure. So they got one of the girls to go and stand next to me with her hair in a ponytail so they could compare from the back if they could actually see if both of us did indeed look like women. They said that from the back you can't tell. Tongue-in-cheek style I did my usual half-smile with the fake "heh heh that was real funny you guys."
They all probably think I'm gay. I've heard rumors of that. I think one of the members of that table was gay as well, which is why they thought of these things in the first place. I've got longer hair, dress very androgynously, and I broke up with my girlfriend of 5 years. As if the signs weren't there. But, aha!, I'm not gay. The only one of those people who knows the real score is my roommate who has done an amazing job of keeping his mouth shut and playing along. My hat goes off to him. Maybe it's because he's getting a lot of free entertainment from this as well...
My ex called me up later that night anyways. She needed someone to talk to, to commisserate. So I did my active listening. Somewhere in the conversation she said she's got free movie tickets so we agreed to meet up the next day.
Sunday, July 14, 2002:
We went to Vietnamese pho for lunch---cheap, fast, tasty, and lots of MSG. Then it was off to the mall to do some quick sunglasses shopping. Then to the movies. Lilo & Stitch is a real cute movie, though I wasn't enamored with the soundtrack. (I heard the soundtrack at a Borders a couple weeks earlier.) Back to her place afterwards I shared some of the tiramisu me and the guys made the night previous. My ex and I tried to make tiramisu once but it was so inedible we junked two batches. What a waste. But this version was much much better.
I called up my roommate on my way home and he put in an order for Mexican take-out. So I swung by a taqueria and got our food. Back at home we chomped it down and I started doing laundry. My gift to my ex on her birthday was a luxury sheet set: 360 thread count. I had been searching for higher thread counts and/or sateen type, but they just don't make many in twin sizes. We'll have to wait until she gets a queen size bed. I actually gave her two sets in the gift and asked her which style she liked better---I kept the one she didn't want. I figured it was a completely different gift than everything I had gotten her in the past. So now I have my own and, hark!, the dryer just shut off. Mmm... warm sheets... There's nothing quite like warm spring-fresh laundry. I have a serious weakness for that. Anyhow I did all the domestic things I've neglected for the past 3 weeks and finished typing up this diary entry (which I actually started writing back on Thursday).
Monday, July 15, 2002:
This diary page is finally finished at 5:15a after hours of typing. I'm going to bed in my new sheets. Mmm... bye.
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