Friday, December 31, 2004

Running in the Rain

It’s ironic. I spent the first day of this year running in the rain, and here on the last day of the year, I did the same thing.

It seems like we are definitely in the rainy season here in San Francisco as it has rained the past few days. As I took off for my run this afternoon, I knew that I would most likely get wet, even though it appeared we were between rain showers. San Francisco doesn’t get much rain after May or June, and since I didn’t start running again after surgery until around April, I really haven’t run in the rain much this year. Tonight, though, I definitely noticed one of the downsides to not having a brow ridge: large rain drops. They seem to hit more often and with a little more force now that there is less to shield my eyes from above. Oh well, I think I can live with a little rain in my eyes compared to living with male features.

So, although it rained on the first and last day, the year was still full of a lot of days with sunshine. There were some definite down periods, but there have been a lot of bright spots this past year. I already know that it’s going to rain again tomorrow, but I don’t mind. I know there will be a number of cold, rainy days to come, as well, but there will also be a lot of sunny days to follow.

Happy New Year!

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Hut Hut

I’m just back from Christmas with the family. Things went fairly well, and there were zero - count them - zero confrontations. I was called ‘he’ a few times, but it was no big deal.

I will have to say that this trip was quite positive, and I think the family seems to be taking my transition relatively well.

Anyway, last Friday’s trip was a little entertaining. Unfortunately, due to my flight schedule and the NFL’s schedule, I missed the first two hours of the Packer-Viking game that started at 2pm Central. I arrived in Chicago around 4pm, found my gate, then found the closest TV. (I’d previously asked for game updates on the flight into Chicago, but the powers that I weld do not seem to work on flight attendants...female or gay males, alike.) The score was 24-21 Packers ahead, on my walk from one gate to another, but once I found the TV, Minnesota tied it with a field goal.

As the game went on, the Vikings unfairly pinned Green Bay near their own end zone due to a non-call on what should have been a touchback. On third down, Favre threw a pass that was picked out of the air by a linebacker and returned for a TD. A guy standing near me in the crowd of people watching the game cheered when they scored. I told him, “Hey, you’re rooting for the wrong team!”

As time progressed, people started heading for our plane. The guy I ‘scolded’ also headed for my gate, and as the last few remaining people headed down the ramp, I left the game with 8 minutes left and the score 31-24, Vikes.

As I was walking down the ramp, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be ironic if I’m sitting next to the Viking dude?” Sure enough, when I got to my seat, I actually found him sitting in it. He moved to the window seat when he realized he was in the wrong seat. We chatted for a while about the game and how I would have bet him had the Vikes not scored that one touchdown. Kiddingly, I asked him, “Are you going to be OK when you find out the Packers came back to win?”

He asked me the same question if the Vikes won.

We also talked about our trips into the Midwest. He was visiting his girlfriend who was studying to be a doctor. He was an engineer in Virginia. I asked him a little about his job, then told him I was an engineer as well. Why is it that most people don’t seem to believe that I’m an engineer? Is it because I’m a woman?

He also called me a good flight buddy. I guess guys like it when a girl can talk football and job related stuff.

Anyway, we chatted about the fact that neither of us had friends in the area and that it would be cool to hang out if either of us were bored (since I thought I’d be staying near the city). Since I stayed at my sister’s, though, I never made it into the city. He did give me his number to call him to hang out, but I just called him last night to bug him about the Packer’s win, coming back to score a TD and the game winning field goal while we were on the flight.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Pre-SRS update

Two days ago, I received a call from Dr. Meltzer’s office. They were checking up to make sure things were OK.

I’m still going through the information packet they sent, initialing where I need to, and will send it back at the very end of this year. Why? Well, I’ll also be sending the payment for SRS when I send back the signed information. Since I don’t want this tax season to look totally suspicious (as though it doesn’t already), I figured I would put FFS on 2004 and SRS on 2005.

It could come back to haunt me though. You see, there is a magic income cutoff that separates the 15% federal tax rate from 25% tax rate. With my medical deductions for transition this year, I’ll be fairly close to that cutoff. Hopefully I’m not shy of it by a couple thousand dollars, which could have been added simply by paying for a portion of SRS a little earlier.

Anyway, the good news with the money situation is the nice credit card offer I received from my insurance company. They offered 1.9% APR for life on all purchases before January 31, 2005. I can't even get a loan with a percentage close to that. Since my SRS payment is due well before that date, I figured I’d place as much as possible on that card since I’m expecting a fairly large federal tax refund in 2005. When I looked online at the credit limit they provided, I almost bonked my head on the ceiling (even though I wouldn’t have been able to feel it). Let’s just say that there was enough credit to put all of the main SRS on it.

So, I’ve also been thinking about having breast augmentation during SRS. I’d like to have bigger boobs, but it would also be nice to have them naturally. Unfortunately, my “girls” haven’t grown much, if any, the past 6 months. Dr. Meltzer has performed quite a few BA’s, especially on T’s. After seeing another pair tonight, I’ve now seen two of his results up close. Although both of the examples I have seen had the areola incision, I’d still prefer to have either the armpit or bellybutton incision. I don’t believe that Dr. Meltzer performs the bellybutton incision, and he doesn’t prefer to do the armpit one, but there’s no way I would do the crease incision. Although the areola incision doesn’t look that bad, I can still see it, and I’d worry about losing nipple sensation.

During the phone call with Dr. Meltzer’s staff, I asked if there was any time available during my SRS to also have the breast augmentation performed. They checked and said that there was enough time to squeeze it in (no pun intended). They said they’d probably need to know about a month before the surgery, at the latest, so they could make all of the arrangements before surgery.

Today, though, I pondered whether or not to call Dr. Meltzer’s office to order my own sort of Christmas gifts. I didn’t, though. Perhaps I should wait to see if Santa leaves anything in my stocking first.

Otherwise....peace, goodwill, and a Coke (Pepsi, etc.) to everyone.

Merry Chrismahanukwanzakah!!!!

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Conversation Killer

Tonight I was at the final exam for my dance class. It consisted of showing up at the instructor’s house for a small party to watch the taped performances from last week (which I decided not to participate in since I would have had a hard time making the practices, missed a few weeks of classes with surgery, and wouldn’t have been able to participate both of the nights they performed).

All of the girls that were there were pushing their early 20’s at the oldest, with the instructor having kids nearly as old as them. Some of them talked about the days when they used to be a cheerleader in high school, which is quite evident with the way they were able to move their bodies. we’re watching the performances, one of the girls, who was not in class last year when I was still a guy, calls me ‘he’.

Although I’m fairly secure with myself, it still bothered me that someone who never knew me as a guy was calling me 'he', and/or, thought of me as a guy. I’m sure some of the other girls who were in the class last year probably told her who I used to be, but she’s the first one that didn’t know me from before that has called me ‘he’ or ‘him’.

I think this is a signal for me to move on from this class. Although the instructor and the people in the class were very supportive, it’s still annoying having someone use a pronoun they probably never would have associated with me had they not been told.

After that party, I was off to another party....a farewell party for a T friend...who was not out to any of the other people attending the party. So, the people that were there were also not aware that I was far as I knew.

During the course of the night, I was sitting across from my friend’s brother and the brother’s wife. Ironically, she had the same name I used to have, and started talking about the relationship between her name and her brother’s name.

“I used to have a brother that had the same name as you," I said to my friends’ sister in-law. "I remember him mentioning the same phonetic characteristic."

"Used to....", she inquired.

I paused. "Yeah....used to. But it's ok......he moved on to a better place."

Good job. I just killed that conversation. I guess that really wasn’t the best way to bring up any reference to things I already knew, but which were in relation to a previous life as a guy...with a different name, a different past, a different set of body parts, a different dynamic.........just different....

I guess we live and learn as life goes on. Perhaps I should use “have a friend” instead of “had a brother” if I ever want to talk in the future about things relating to my male past.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

One Month

...ago today, I had my second hairline advancement. Compared to the main FFS, this has been a walk in the park. Sure, there was the funky bumpy incision line, sutures, staples, bloody hair, and numbness, but it’s been so much easier. All of the swelling was basically gone inside a week, and the incision healed up fairly nicely. It was definitely tight and still is to a degree.

The numbness really sucks, though, especially since I had most of it back after FFS. I’ve felt the itching, the shooting pains, and the weird sensation that feels like things are kinda crawling around on top of my head...especially in the front temporal areas. Hopefully the numbness will heal up faster than last time since Dr. O didn’t cut all the way across my head, nor did he have it peeled down at all (whereas in the main FFS, he had the skin pulled down in order to work on the sinus cavity and forehead for a few hours).

Otherwise, it’s been a fairly easy recovery, although I’ve only exercised twice since the surgery. The fun part to this, though, has been watching people cringe when I tell them I was awake thru the whole surgery. That’s brought up a few stories of other people’s experience with their wisdom teeth. Ahhhh...the moments we all share.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

What to do with old underwear?

So, I’ve been cleaning out a few items in my room and moving things around. I’m trying to simplify my life and possessions. Based on my roommate, I may be moving sometime soon...which, of course, is complicated by SRS on the horizon. Plus, I just have way too much stuff that I need to trash a bit of it.

Some of the stuff I have run across is stuff that dates back to when I was a kid. Unfortunately, a few of these items have my old name on them, and are no longer relevant. A lot of them are so old, though, that they weren’t even relevant before the name change. The hard part, though, is throwing them away.

What do you do with stuff that holds a lot of memories of your youth...a time when my mind wasn’t fully ravaged with gender dysphoria. It was a time of simplicity, a time of innocence, a time before I couldn’t see past the gender wall that slowly built up in my mind.

But now, I must decide on the things to keep and the things to throw away...which memories to hold on to, and which ones to let go.

Sunday, December 05, 2004


So, I had another busy Saturday, went running late into the evening, and decided that I didn’t want to spend another Saturday night at home. I’d heard a few acquaintances would be at Diva’s and that they were having a celebration of sorts, so I decided to jump in the shower and head out for the evening.

I arrived slightly before 11pm, which ensured that my entry was free...a slight bonus for being a girl. The celebration was for Cassandra, a local transsexual who was in a CSI episode on November 18th. I’d seen her before at AsiaSF, so I’d already known for a fact that she was quite stunning.

So, the first guy to start talking to me was a guy named Mike. He was an OK dude, and fairly respectful to me. We chatted for a while. The second guy to approach me was a little taller than me, dark hair, and slightly overweight. He wasn’t very attractive, and was very hesitant, to a degree. His hesitancy, though, led to a few surprising questions.

“You ever fucked a guy up the ass?”


“Would you fuck me up the ass?”

“ But if you ask around, I’m sure you could pay one of these lovely ladies to fuck you up the ass.”

“I don’t need to pay for it,” he said, and then stomped off. And they wonder why tranny chasers get such a bad rap.

The third guy asked if I wanted to play pool. I told him, “sure, why not,” although I did tell him on the way to the pool table that I wasn’t a working girl.

Cassandra was working behind the bar near the pool table on the almost empty fourth floor. Throughout the night we’d already heard a few tidbits about her being on the show, how she was selected at a little shindig the producers held at AsiaSF looking for dancers, and how they’d changed the lines on her from her initial script to the actual taping.

When I was home for the holidays, I found out my dad had a woman working for him who used to work on the X-Files when it taped in Canada. I, being a huge X-Files fan, asked my dad to ask her about David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. After spending an afternoon at my grandmother’s while my Dad finished work, he said she said, “David Duchovny was an asshole, and Gillian Anderson and her started out as roommates when the show began. But later, Gillian married one of the producers, developed a lot of insecurities, and then became an asshole.” Sounds like Hollywood turns one into an asshole.

So, I asked Cassandra if the actors that play Gil Grishom or Catherine Willows were assholes since she was in a scene with the two of them. Cassandra said that William Peterson was actually a really nice person, and was very close to the character he played. She also said that Marg Helgenberger was also pretty cool, as were most of the people that she dealt with from the show. Someone else commented that things are usually really comfortable on a set when the show is doing well and people are nicely paid.

When 2am rolled around, they started kicking us out. The dude who asked me to play pool (who I also found out was an HR director) asked me if he could call me sometime. I told him I wasn’t really into guys right now, but he was still very polite.

Well, it’s nice to know that not everyone is an asshole.

Saturday, December 04, 2004


Coworker Mark, L, and I were standing around late yesterday afternoon just kinda chatting before the weekend began. We were talking about the Survivor episode that ran the previous night. Mark commented about some of the women sitting around plucking each others eyebrows with their fingernails.

“That’s what girls do, Jeff,” I remarked.

L and Mark just stared at me.


Whoops. You see, Jeff and I were coworkers back in the Midwest. Mark reminds me a lot of Jeff, and I’ve even told Mark that. In fact, I’d commented to him a few years back that I was sorry if I ever called him Jeff.

I'd also just mentioned something about the show's host, Jeff Probst, so the name Jeff was fresh in my head.

Both of them, though, had a little fun with it. And of course, I found it amusing, as well, that I had used the wrong name. Mark even decides to quip, “I get a mulligan.”