People who know how to make salsa

From the pages of my written journal

I sit here in the airport waiting on a flight to San Antonio for the wedding of a college friend. They’ve all known about me for close to a year now, and some of them saw me this past fall, albeit before facial surgery. Bob, who recently moved to the Bay Area, came over for the Super Bowl a few weeks before my FFS. This will be the first time all of them have seen me post FFS. I think they’ll all do fine.

The wedding is tomorrow and I fly out on Sunday, but I fly to Phoenix, AZ for a consult with the good Dr. Meltzer. Actually, it’s more Scottsdale. It’s kinda weird because I used to live in the Phoenix area a long time ago. It’s almost like revisiting areas of my life that I’m now basically retracing on my way to womanhood. Well, actually, I was so young at the time, that I don’t remember much from living there. And one day, I may have to visit Louisiana in order to change my birth certificate. I’m lucky, that state does allow the change. This is not my first time to San Antonio as well, as I visited there when I was a kid when my dad was training in the service.

Anyway, I went shopping this week for a dress to wear to the wedding. I found a nice Nine West pink and white dress, and found some shoes and a cardigan the next night that will go with it. I couldn’t find a handbag, though.

Damn, they’re saying there is no meal service on this flight even though we fly out at 10am and arrive at 3pm. I have to go buy a lunch to take along...hold on.

I’m back...yeah, like you’re going somewhere. I’m on the plane, now, though.

Anyway, when I was out shopping, I picked up a bowl of soup then headed for my car. As I was walking along, I passed by a young girl and probably her mother as they exited a coffee shop. What made this unique was the mother’s comment as she walked behind me: “Do you think that was a girl or a boy with long hair?” What the hell, huh? So, although I would loved to have said something to them, I didn’t, but I did decide to stop into the coffee shop to see for myself. You see, I’ve also been told by an acquaintance that there was a fairly young beautiful T working in one of the area cofffee shops because my acquaintance used to work with her at a different branch. Since I don’t drink coffee, though, I’m never in a coffee shop. I walked in and saw 2 guys and only one girl. She was slightly shorter than me and had lovely straight dark hair. I saw no indication of her being T, but just in case, I did flash her the secret transsexual bat signal. No reponse.

Yesterday morning, I got a call from a T who had attended the Dr. O seminar I put on late last year. She said she was at the Cocoon House. I asked her if she’d like me to stop by later that night. She said, “sure.” I was headed into the city, anyway, for some TGSF stuff, so I was able to stop and chat with R, A, and L for about an hour. Although swollen, all of them were looking great. A & L already had their voices back and were flying back today. R just got her nose packing out and looked like she was doing pretty good with minimal bruising after 5-6 days. I don’t know exactly what it is, but there is like this almost instant bond with a lot of T’s around the same age going through the same events.

After visiting with them for about an hour, I was off to the TGSF stuff. It was a lot of the usual, but I found out that I was elected to the Outreach position with TGSF, so I’ll be involved with those activities over the next year.

I also met another 29 year old person who’s trying to figure out her journey. It was the first time I’d seen her at an event. We chatted for a while about how most of the area groups, although filled with very nice people, are usually much older. I told her I was usually one of the youngest ones at TGSF events, but that I had a group of friends that were closer to my age. I told her that I’d introduce her to them sometime. The thing is, though, I don't want to force any of the transition stuff on her while she is still figuring everything out.

This past week at work, we’ve interviewed two guys to replace my former boss who departed right when I was out for FFS. Robi and I still meet up with Y a few times for lunch just to say hey and all. Anyway, during the course of the interviews, and mainly towards the end, I try to get a feel for how they are reacting to me. I start out with, “How do you like the Bay Area?” The first guy goes into this spiel about it being incredibly expensive here and it’s almost impossible to buy a house. If I hadn’t spent 40k on FFS, pushing 20k on electro, and who knows how much on a new wardrobe, I probably would have been able to afford a condo with a roommate. But, being T leaves me basically only able to rent.

So, the second guy rolls into how he likes the diversity in the Bay Area. Good answer. He says he’s a huge people watcher.

The next question was, “What type of people do you not like to work with?” The first guy says “closed minded people” while the second one says “prima donnas.” They’re both good answers, althought the first is probably better in my case.

Somehow during the conversation with the first guy, we get on the subject of his kids. He said he had a son who was a senior and a daughter that was a sophomore, but that their son was a special needs child. He said it wasn’t a normal life, and wondered what it would have been like if his son was normal, but he cared for his son no matter what.

So, then I hit them with my news telling the first guy that I don’t live a normal life either and the second guy that I’m about as diverse as they come, as I recently transitioned from male to female. The first guy said he had no problem with it, as well as the second, but the second guy said, “I wouldn’t have known.” He said his sister was gay and had kids. He lived close to her and was the male influence in the children’s lives. How cool, huh?

You’re probably wondering why I told them. Well, the way I figure it is that I have a hand in the selection process, so why not make sure they are going to be OK with it. I’ll be out next year with SRS, so the T conversation is going to come up sooner or later. When I explained this to Blonde Rachel last night, she at first wondered why I told them, but after hearing my reason, she totally agreed with me.

OK, well, yesterday I was kinda reviewing all of the wedding and travel stuff for this weekend and I noticed that we’re not invited to the actual wedding, but only the reception. Well, damn. I bought this nice summer dress and accessories. I packed it anyway, and threw in an extra top I can wear with some of the other stuff I brought along. We’ll probably (hopefully) do something after the reception since it ends at 11pm, so I’ll need more than a summer dress to go out in anyway..