URNotAlone

Step One of Twelve

December 19th, 2007 7:35 pm MST

Hi, my name Sonia, and I'm a fuck up.

I was thinking about twelve step programs after browsing one Stacy's books titled "12 Steps to Raw Foods." I'm not quite converted to raw foodism yet, but the time was right for me to get the message that step one of recovery is admitting that you have a problem. My legal problems have impacted my life severely enough lately that I've finally felt compelled to start talking about them to a few people. Last month when I knew my chances of staying out of jail were dwindling, I started confessing parts of my story to a few people. I told my immediate supervisor that I had a court date that I might not be coming back from. I confessed to my girlfriend that I was afraid I was headed for problems and I might not be the person she thought I was. (Of course she promptly had our best mutual friend sit me down for a serious talk...) Hmm, and then I talked to my mother recently and told her I had been in jail and stuff. One thing I had heard from a couple people is, "Sonia, when you talk to a lawyer, you have to tell them EVERYTHING." Why would people say this to me? Do they get the sense that I'm not telling them everything? Well...there's probably something to their suspicions. It's easy for me to rationalize my eliptical stories, thinking, telling myself, and telling others out loud that, "It's complicated. It would take months to tell the whole ugly story. This is all that you need to understand."

That's denial, huh. If step one is admitting that I have a problem, I have to admit the whole problem. I have to admit it to myself before I can hope to understand it. Yeah, there is a whole ugly story, and yeah, it will probably take months to unravel it. Still though, I have to start. This is exactly what I hoped to start when I started this journal.

But, um, that was June, 2006. Eighteen months ago. That's a lot of months and, yeah, next to no progress. One might even argue that I've slid quite a few steps back for every step forwards. Maybe I just haven't admitted my problem yet.

So what is the problem? What do I have to admit? Let's say, just hypothetically, that I wanted to talk about my problems to someone--like a lawyer. Can I express my problems coherrently enough to even start a conversation? Below is the email I sent today to a legal group that helps transgendered people with limited resources. I think it's the first time I've expressed my problems this completely.

Dear [organization],

I am a transwoman currently in need of legal assistance. I am trans in the sense that I live full time as a woman while still legally and biologically male. My current legal problems are not obviously related to me being trans, but I am in desperate need of help and hope you will consider my situation and offer whatever guidance you can, even if it is only to refer me to someone else you think might be able to help.

My legal problems are related to alimony, paternity, and child support. I have failed to defend myself against claims against me, and further, have been negligent in responding to various court orders related to these claims. I have no good excuse or explanation for my inaction. Depression, anxiety, or gender dysphoria might all be proposed but I do not expect to be able to use any of these as a legal defense. I just need some way out of my problems and I currently don't have any workable plan. My friends refer me to lawyers but so far the responses I have had from lawyers have been to stare at me blankly and ask me how I expect to pay for legal services, to laugh in my face and say, "you're going to jail, my friend", and to tell me to get a second job. These responses have not been helpful.

My cases originate in Kansas. Massachusetts is taking action against me now to attempt to enforce these support orders from Kansas. These actions have included confiscating 100% of my paycheck, all of my bank accounts, my driver's license, jailing me for 35 days; and now I am currently under house arrest on electronic monitoring for 120 days.  As a result of being jailed and having bank accounts disabled, I lost my my apartment and my landlord confiscated all of my possessions, including all documentation I have related to this case. My credit cards and cell phone are suspended.

I am basically living out of a tote bag, sleeping in a friend's bed, relying on various friends to feed me, showering at my office, making do with a few changes of clothes and one very leaky pair of shoes.

I am employed. I have worked as an astronomer at the
Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics here in Cambridge for the last five years. My annual salary is $50K. As I mentioned, currently the court is currently taking all of that. I get zero. I currently have no money except pocket change amount handouts pushed into my palm by close friends. My job, my friends, and my spirit are my precious assets.

I would be happy to come to your office if you would be willing to spend some time discussing this further. My electronic monitoring schedule will not allow me make one of your evening legal clinics, but can take off work for an appointment with you most any time during regular work day business hours.

Sincerely,
Sonia Keys

 

[1 comment]

Last Dance

December 11th, 2007 7:40 pm MST

Tuesday, December 4.  Lisa bought me lunch today but was horrified when I told her that I had been recording all of these little gifts that people had been giving me.  Hmm.  I shouldn't confess such things.  I should just do them and have people think that I am amazingly thoughtful and gracious of gifts.  Dinner tonight came from a reception here at work.  I had ignored the invitation but then Muazzez came by as she was leaving for the day and said I should go downstairs because the food was really good.  It was.  Hors d'oeuvres, little plates, filled up three times, a glass of Merlot.  My tummy is happy.

(Writing a week later, December 11, I'm grumpy.  I'll get around to explaining.  First, I'll write up some stuff from the last week.

Last Tuesday, there was no time to rest after the nice dinner--Rachel was coming over, as planned, and we were going to Natick.  Part of the plan was that she needed a place to dress.  I had her come to my office and we got ready together in the nice bathroom here where I've been showering.  It was really fun getting ready with her, because we worked side by side, putting our faces on, and just talking the whole time.  Then, here I was for the second week in a row at Natick!  I'm sure everyone was relieved to see me in makeup once again.  Deedee showed up and was happy to see me after so long.  Lucy, my ride home,  was there.  Michelle was there!  I like her, and I hadn't seen her in ages.  The five of us ended up taking some pictures, which was nice since Natick pictures are rare, and especially nice because Sonia pictures have gotten rare lately.

Wednesday, December 5.  I was searching Craigs List for last ditch possibilities for a new place to live, when I ran across an ad that stood out.  Rather than just advertising a room in an apartment, this was room in a housing co-op.  I don't know anything about co-ops, but the ad made it clear that this was a more  interactive social environment than the average shared apartment.  I answered, and got a most interesting response.  Describing to friends later, I called it an essay test.  Here is the "test", with my answers:

> Describe your commitment to Social Justice. Please
> tell us about justice work you have done: your PAST
> experiences, your PRESENT work, and your FUTURE plans…

I'm afraid much of my past experience with Social Justice is weak.
Only recently have I started to pay attention to issues like this.
(It shows maybe that I'm growing and learning?)  Early last year, I
discovered the Brights and registered as a Bright myself.  We Brights
adhere to a "naturalistic worldview," that is, as opposed to any
*super*naturalistic worldview such as is essential to most religions
and beliefs in gods or other supernatural agents.  This is a Social
Justice stand because we believe that Social Justice is meaningful and
can be discussed rationally without resort to direction from God.  I
know of organized Brights initiatives to promote these ideas and think
they are exciting, although I am not actively working with them.  I
guess my commitment, as you asked, has been just to register with the
Brights as a Bright myself, and explain my beliefs to people when
subjects like this come up in conversation.

More tangible Social Justice work has been my efforts to promote
rights of transgendered people.  Again, this has been just over the
last year, but I have accomplished a number things I am proud of.  In
one case, following a discrimination incident, I explored various
avenues of recourse until I discovered a group exists that provides
training to all people involved in this type work across the city of
Cambridge.  When I pointed out to them the part of their training that
was discriminatory, the response was, "Oh, you're right!  We'll change
the training."  I have also become an active member of the
Massachusetts Transgender Political Coalition, participating in
various activities to lobby for and promote our current project, the
bill HR 1722 which will provide state-wide protections for
transgendered people.

My specific future plans include testifying in support of this bill
before the Judiciary Committee when the bill comes before them.  (We
had hoped this would be this year, but the end of the year is
approaching...)  My general plans include continuing to work with the
MTPC, and just, as I said, growing and learning as a person.

> How do you find Joy? (Some examples from house
> members: their social justice work, soccer, church
> involvement, kung-fu b movie making, bread baking,
> quilting, etc.)

I find joy in group social activities with friends.  Whether we go out
somewhere and have crazy fun dancing, meet new people and bring them
into our social circles, or just consume a whole evening sharing
stories, I so often come home feeling the thrill of joy.

I find joy in a bonding event with a friend.  We do something
together, discover our commonalities, or perhaps our differences, and
we are then closer.  That feels good.

I find joy in sailing.  Sometimes that means treating a friend to a
fun afternoon in the sun, once in a while it means winning a race, but
my favorite activity at Community Boating is teaching people how to
sail.  I take people out in a boat, magic happens, and when we return
to the dock, they almost always have the wide eyes of someone who has
learned.  They almost always thank me. Usually I feel their thanks are
genuine.  Wow, that makes my day.  Sometimes I get to see them later
in the day all victorious after passing their sailing test.  A few
times I've had apparent strangers call out to me some random place
around town, "Sonia?  Hey, hi!  Remember me?  You taught me how to
sail...."

I find joy in creating things.  Whether it's a cake or a fortran
program; to have a concept, work on it, bring the concept--my
concept--into existence, and see that some new and good thing exists
in the world; that makes me happy.

I find joy in learning--almost anything.

> Why are you interested in living in community?

Because I've seen the alternative and it's tragic.  A person who
isolates themselves (like a recent roommate of mine) not only makes no
contribution, they get no benefits.  They actually deprive themselves
of a significant part of their life.  A community is a living thing
itself.  It consists not just of physical things like homo sapiens,
but more importantly of the complex rules and relationships of
society.  These non-physical things are continuously growing and
evolving.  I am interested in living as a primate, I am interested in
living as an individual with a conscious mind, but I also recognize
that I am a live part of greater living entities, like communities.

> What do you want to get out of your co-op experience?

I will certainly learn from everyone around me.  We'll learn from each
other and be part of a living social unit and all, and certainly some
aspects of this will be new to me and I will integrate all of this.
This coop experience really has my interest now because it sounds so
much more stimulating and rewarding than the more common roommate
situation.  It shows just through your questions in this email.  What
else?...  I am looking forward to learning new cooking skills.  Oh,
and then there's the roof over my head thing.

> What can you bring to a community?

Forty six years of experience on the planet, an active mind and
relatively healthy body.  Probably a number of odd little skills,
like, I'm pretty good at tying knots, and, in a pinch, I could
probably get a nuclear power plant up and running.

> In your experience, what is conflict and why does
> conflict happen? When conflict has happened in your
> experience, what has been your role in it? Have you
> played several roles in conflicts before?  Please be
> specific and tell us about your experiences with
> conflict.

I assume we're talking about personal conflicts?  Conflict is when one
person disagrees with another and feels compelled to act on it.  The
action can be verbal, physical, or some change of behavior or refusal
to change behavior to protect their own interest (passive aggression.)
 I'm generally passive, and have often been passive to a fault,
avoiding conflicts that really need to be resolved.  My roommate that
I mentioned before would disapprove of something I was doing or not
doing--say, using a fabric softener that he found intolerably
aromatic--and try this passive aggressive thing on me.  I would ignore
him, telling myself, "hey, if he has a problem, he can tell me about
it in words instead storming around in a bad mood without telling me
why" and go on using the fabric softener when of course I knew exactly
what the problem was.  There's conflict being handled badly by both
parties.

I don't know, I think I'm pretty easy to live with.

> Do you have and concerns or questions about living at
> Cambridge Coop?

I'm guessing that most people attracted to living in a coop are pretty
easy to live with and I'm not worried about that.  I promise to not to
use Gain fabric softener.  I have a little question about the phone.
I use my cell phone for almost everything, but I do have one need for
a conventional land line.

> Please give a personal reference:

Name _______ Lynn ...
Relationship __ Former roommate (NOT the fabric softener intolerant one)
Contact info __ email:  ...

> Please feel free to bring us any additional info about
> you if you want—your poetry? A news clipping? Resume?

Oh no, I'm way too modest.

I've enjoyed this application, though.  And spent way too much time on
it (...but it's interesting enough that it's definitely getting posted
to my blog.  There, that gets more value out of the time.)

Still excited about this opportunity, and hoping I pass round two and
hear from you soon,

Sonia Keys

Not the average apartment rental questions, hm?  Having just submitted Lynn as a reference, I turned right around and emailed her so she would know it was coming.  We hadn't talked in ages and and so were suddenly making plans to meet the next day after work just to catch up on things.  Cool!  But then the next day I get email back from the co-op.  My contact there asked if we could talk on the phone the next day at 6:30.  Excellent!  ...Except I was meeting Lynn.  I thought surely we could just do it a little later and I emailed back asking if 8:00 would be ok.  I hadn't heard back from the co-op contact but I met Lynn anyway at Macy's Downtown Crossing at 5:15.  She was there with Rhonda!  Our mission was supposedly purse shopping but we were all so busy talking that we only half paid attention to the purses.  The adolescent t-girl in me was drawn to the glittery designs of Kathy Van Zeeland.  The girly girl in me loved the designs from Coach decorated with matching side bows.  Maybe the bows were a seasonal accent?  I don't see them on the website now!  They were so cute.  Lynn seemed to be looking for something with classic lines in a smooth red leather.  Nothing there, nothing affordable, anyway.  Rhonda left for home then.  Lynn and I had pizza and diet coke in the food court while we talked some more.  She told me about wedding plans, I told her about jail.  Back at work around 7:30 and hoping for a phone call about this housing co-op, I found an email saying she was busy herself and suggesting rescheduling on Sunday.  Ugh, two days lost.

For the rest of the evening, I decided to spend some precious dollars going to Jacque's.  Jessica had said she would be there with Debra, and I rationalized it further telling myself I might involve some people in conversation about my ideas for a new social group.  Jessica was there already when I arrived.  She introduced me to Debra.  Both Debra and I thought each other looked familiar but otherwise didn't remember meeting before.  I spotted Deanna and waved hello to her.  A number of other people there are familiar faces, but sadly, I haven't been social enough to get to know them.  (Hm, some chance I have of engaging anyone in conversation.)  Debra and I were reading a posted flier about next week's bands downstairs.  I said I had never gone downstairs to listen to the bands.  She said "don't.  the music is awful."  Well I can't pass up a challenge like that!  I went right down to find out for myself.  It was a cool punk band making an incredible amount of noise.  Drums, guitar, guitar, bass, vocals.  The vocalist wore her Manic Panic hair up in tight little pig tails, was young, cute, fat, dressed in black PVC, and was just shredding her throat into the mic.  I liked watching the bass player.  The band had a good fan club there to support them.  I'm not sure, of course, but I may have been the only trans person there.  No one else was very obviously trans anyway.  Back upstairs after that band's set, I chatted and mingled a little bit more.  One guy interested in talking to me was rather younger than most of the other guys, and very good looking.  He was interested enough to buy me a drink.  He was interested enough to invite me to go to another club for dancing!  I was defenseless at this point.  I told him I knew where we could go, said goodbye to Jessica, and we were out the door.

I led us one block over to Rumor where, at midnight now, the line was wrapped around the block.  My date took one look at the line and asked where else we could go, but of course I thought there might still be a chance.  I walked right up to the ropes at the door and sure enough, there was Maria.  "Sonia!!!!" she shouted, stretching out her arms to me.  "Long time, no see, blah, blah, blah...can you get me in?" I pleaded.  With one motion she unhooked the red velvet rope and waved us in.  Inside, I got the same reception from Mandy when she saw me.  It was so cool to be known.  The place was the same, the music was good.  I loved being back at that place.  I loved being there with this lovely little snack cake of a man.  House music obviously wasn't his thing, but he didn't care.  He was just there entertaining me for a bit.  I had to explain Rise to him a few times before it finally sank in that at 1:30 then, there were five more hours of dancing left.  Ha.  He, of course, wasn't up for it.  That's ok.  He bought me drink a Jacque's, paid our admission to Rumor, paid for the coat check, paid for another drink inside, paid for a cab to his place in Cambridge.  Omg, and he was so cute.  He was very shy about admitting it, but he was a doctorate student at MIT.  At his place, we used each other well and then I took a cab home.  Omg, did I really just do that?  Omg, how awful am I?  Omg, and how delicious was that?

Actually, before "home"--Stacy's place--I went to my office to shower.  Crawled in bed with Jessica *very* late, slept, and it was time to start getting ready to go to Randolph Country Club.  Incorrigible, aren't I?  A message on the answering machine from Daphne asked me to call.  I know she had hoped to take me home with her after she got off work Saturday.  I had promised to call and let her know and I hadn't called.  It was about 6pm when I called her back.  I was done and ready to walk out the door.  She was explaining that she had to fix some dinner, then get ready.  Her second preference was that I ride with Stephanie, so I promised to call Stephanie.  I got her on the phone grocery shopping, saying that she would be home in half an hour to fix dinner and get ready to go out.  I thanked her, but made it clear that I was headed straight to the club on my own.

Getting there was relatively uneventful, but I did get some negative attention on the train ride toward Ashmont.  A group of teenagers was delirious with laughter.  I got the idea that they generally found something funny to laugh about on their way home, and today it was simply my presence that was providing a good part of their amusement.  A couple of guys felt the need to look tough in the face of this outing of a tranny and one of them threw a punch in the air as walked by me to get off of the train, saying "fucking dude!"  That was the end of that, but it left me thinking of the nonsense in his exclamation.  I imagined a little scene where he said that without running away and I came back with "dude?  are you fucking blind?"  "You see this guy here?" as I gesture to the tough looking guy next to me, "This is a dude.  Now, you see the difference?"  "Dude," pointing to him.  "Tranny," gesturing to myself.  Now you wanna tell this guy to his face that you think he's the same as me?  Let me step aside first."  *sigh*  Imagination is fun.  With the cowardly hater off the train, attention turned to a guy rapping at the far end of the car.  He was up for a battle but with no one on the train stepping up to contest him, he was just targeting riders at random.  I was watching him of course.  He hadn't seen me.  The big guy next to me offered me reassurance, "He's harmless, he's just an artist."  "Yeah, and he's got no competition here" I added, paying respect to the rapper.

Around 8:30, I was, in fact, the first t-girl to arrive at RCC.  Yeah, for once I was there early and would have lots of time to visit.  I sat at the bar with the crowd of regulars for not long at all before the first girls showed up, the "New York" girls, (although they're not all from New York) Paige, Katie, Katie, and Brit.  After wandering around a bit, we settled at table.  I had forgotten Brit, but she remembered me.  Paige had forgotten me, but I remembered her.  That kind of thing is all fine and understandable when you just meet briefly at these things.  These four are young and pretty and have dazzling wit.  I, *sigh*, don't quite fit in with them, but they were happy to adopt me for a bit.  And a bit is all it was before girls I knew better started streaming in the door.  One surprise was Terri.  I thought she was in Florida.  Another very nice surprise was Jean.  I kept up then, for most of the night, noticing each girl that came in and making some time to talk with her.  One, Gina, turned out to be at RCC for the first time.  I called Vonnie over to meet her and the two of them had a nice long conversation.  Vonnie also told me all about the RCC Halloween party and I confessed to her where I was over Halloween.  I think Stephanie got there 10ish, and Daphne 11ish.  One girl I was very glad to meet and talk to for a bit was Lace.  I explained to her amusement my theory of how she was my great aunt because she had been dressing and coming to parties like this so much longer than me.  I also found her later on the dance floor by herself and I dance for a few minutes with her.  Mm, experience shows.  Her movement is beautifully fluid.  I so wish I could do that.  The night before at Rumor, one of the girls was even trying to coach me at one point, modeling movements and grabbing my hips to show me how I should be moving.  *sigh*  Now see?  That's the way to learn.  No inhibition, just practice, practice, practice.  I bought one drink for myself.  Jean bought me one, and, was that all?  Someone else might have bought me one but I can't remember.  I think Wendy offered but then didn't.  I did ask Wendy for a ride home though, and she obliged.  My head was clear enough that I was remembering that I needed to be back at my office by noon in case the girl from the co-op was going to call me back.  We kind of took the long way back before dropping me off at Alewife.  At Wendy's place, she offered...Champagne!  She popped the cork, we drank and talked and finished the bottle and slept very well.  At the train station finally, she pushed some money into my hand.  I sincerely tried to decline, but she insisted.  I love my friends.  They're keeping me alive right now.

At my office around 11:30, there was no word about a phone call.  I waited.  I sat around all afternoon and went home in the evening all sad and depressed.

Monday morning, I got around to cleaning up after myself a bit by bundling up some laundry and dropping it off on my way to work.  Stacy and Jessica had both told me stories about how hostile the laundry employees were toward transgenders.  I walked in without expectations.  "Good morning, I'd like to drop this off?"  I asked with a cheerful smile, placing my bundle on the counter.  "Wash, dry, fold?  Of course!"  She smiled back, setting the bundle on the scale.  "Oh, we have a minimum charge for under ten pounds," she couched.  The scale showed a little under ten pounds.  "That's fine.  Next time I'll know to bring more!"  I laughed.  "Can I pay now?"  "Sure...you can pick it up after 5:00 today."  "After 5.  Ok, thank you.  Goodbye!"  "Have a nice day!"  Hmph, yeah, evil transgender haters.

I piddled at the end of the day until I had to dash home from work to the the laundry before it closed.  They had locked the door already, but as I approached I saw the woman inside say something to the man and he went right to the door and let me in.  "Sonia?" she confirmed with a smile.  "Yes!" I said with great relief.  "Thank you!"  I popped inside the house, dropped off the laundry, then ran right back out to get to the MTPC meeting.  Got there at 6:50, exactly when the room was supposed to be available to us.  MTPC is starting to feel more comfortable to me.  At first I was really lost.  Now most of what they are doing is starting to make sense.  I got assigned a couple of tasks and was happy with that.  After MTPC I was back at the house just long enough to visit with Stacy for a bit, eat a salad, and visit with Jessica for a bit, before going back to the office yet again.  I wanted to check for word about the co-op, shower, and get ready to go back to court the next day.  Really I was in no mood to sleep.  I stayed up very late, staring at the computer screen, tweezing my face, and just wasting time.  Finally curled up on the floor for a few hours of sleep before morning.

Tuesday, today, is a bad day.  I don't even want to talk about it.  The deal is that two weeks ago the court's attorney cited a bunch of speculation they held about me that I was not being honest with them, told they judge they thought I was a flight risk and wanted me on electronic monitoring.  The judge agreed.  Well it turns out that "electronic monitoring" consists of monitoring that you stay under house arrest.  I am allowed to go to work at 8:00, be home by 6:00, and that's it.  House arrest for four months.  Starts tomorrow.

 

[2 comments]

Damage Control

December 8th, 2007 1:18 pm MST

Tuesday, November 27.  Stacy fixed me a nice breakfast of cereal.  I took my pile of mail that had arrived at the apartment over the last month to work with me, set it aside while I read emails at a leisurely pace, then went to coffee.  Today at coffee I felt much more comfortable with my appearance, after having had a chance to tweeze the most obvious whiskers from my face, and to dress more completely as Sonia with hip pads, breast forms, and that nice cowl neck sweater from Dina.  After coffee, I started opening envelopes and going through mail, setting aside the most important looking pieces.  One had come from the court with a copy of the sentence and saying that I would be scheduled to appear in court again on the first Tuesday following release.  Now, there was no other mail with the specific date and time I was to appear, but I had just been released yesterday.  I was guessing that it would be mailed out today, and that I would get something by the end of the week telling me the specific date and time.  I had heard people say that it was typically the week following release.  Still.....the only piece of paper I had in my hand actually said "the Tuesday following release" which strictly speaking was, today.  Crap.  I guess I should make sure.

 

It was lunch time so I decided to just run over to the courthouse and ask in person.  It was finally time to buy a 7 day T pass to get me over there in a hurry.  At the courthouse, I showed my paper, and explained that I just wanted to make sure I wasn't supposed to appear today.  "Let me check" the court worker said, and disappeared.  Back in a minute, he handed me a stack of forms.  "Fill these out."  Oh shit.  I knew what that meant.  I was supposed to be there that day, and, the usual time to appear is 8:30 in the morning.

 

Well, it wasn't exactly planned this way, but Sonia was finally going to appear before the judge.  The court's attorney stifled a giggle as we approached the bench, but that was the only reaction I got from anyone.  So there, now that I've appeared before the judge as Sonia, I'm done!--I have absolutely no occasions left where I would ever want to dress as a male.  It's a milestone.  It feels really good.

 

Results of court were unpleasant.  They are going to make me wear an electronic tracking anklet for four months.  Unfortunately for them, they need me to have a home address where the anklet can ensure that I stay.  The problem of course being that after a month in jail, I'm homeless.  They told me I had two weeks to find an apartment and they turned me out on the street again.  What insanity.  On the train, back to my office, checked emails again, returned a message to Wendy.  She wanted to pick me up in an hour to go out for dinner.  "You're buying?"  I asked immediately.  "Ah, I guess so!"  A few minutes later she was calling back again.  "Dinner is off.  7:30?"  Rats.  A real dinner sure would have been nice.  I settled for a Dunkin bagel from the Alewife station while I waited for Wendy to pick me up.

 

Natick.  Wow, how long had it been?  It was really nice to be back.  That place is cool, so relaxed.  I was happy with myself that I remembered most everyone's name.  And of course everyone remembers me (and actually seems to like me!)  I had a few offers to buy me a drink but I declined them all.  Inside I was really driven by humbleness, but the explanation that came out of my mouth was that I was staying away from alcohol.  Sheesh.  That's something you can't go back on.  I was stuck staying dry for the night anyway.  Wendy, understanding that I had no money, did later offer to buy me a bowl of chowder when she was having some herself.  She's really a nice person.  Thoughtful and considerate.  At the end of the night she insisted on giving me $30 cash.  I had her drop me back at Alewife, took the train back to Harvard, crashed again at Stacy's.

Wednesday, November 28.  As I hurried off to work in the morning, Stacy offered me a few orange sections and sent along with me a breakfast bar and big salad that she had made for me the night before.  I was hurrying because this was technically my first day back at work.  First day on the clock, that is.  A grueling day it was too.  I straightened desk.  I'm not sure I did much else work related.

Non-work related, I caught up on a lot of Sonia Kiss stuff, sending "here I am" emails to a number of friends, and checking messages and stuff on various social networking services.  For the evening, I knew Stacy was going to a dance, and Jessica had talked about Meredith coming down and wanting to see me.  Around 5pm I emailed Jessica and also left a message on her answering machine saying "hey, let me know if I can come over."  A little after 7, I think, the phone rang.  It wasn't Jessica, but Kuan-Chung!  He asked if I had had dinner and if I wanted to go to Chinatown with him.  Frustrated with Jessica, I agreed immediately.

 

We ended up going to a Vietnamese place and having a nice time.  He bought me dinner, had me take the doggy bag, and gave me some left over apple pie when we got back to his place.  I had wanted to go back there to get another bag of clothes.  I filled my tote bag with some warm and long sleeve tops, a few other little things, and left for my temporary home, Stacy and Jessica's place.  (Oh, one thing I grabbed was a suit jacket I had been holding onto since early spring.  This belonged to Tina, who lost track of it one night with Sisters when her drinking was out of control.  I took it home with me that night, and emailed her a couple of times telling her that I had it, but apparently it wasn't important enough to her to make plans to get it back.  I'd kept it in my closet until now, but...I currently don't even have a closet.  I thought it might fit Lisa, and that she would give it a new home.)

 

I got there a little before 11pm, I think, and was glad to see all of the lights on.  I did kind of expect Stacy at least to be there.  I was glad to see that Kate was still up so I wouldn't have to worry about waking her.  I tried the back door in case someone had left it open for me but it was locked.  I rang the doorbell in front, got buzzed in, walked up to the apartment door, tapped on it quietly and waited.  And waited.  No one ever came.  What could it mean?  Somebody was home and buzzed me in.  If it were Jessica or Stacy, shouldn't they let me in?  If it were Kate, she might wait and let Jessica or Stacy come.  Problem is, Jessica wages war against Kate and so the two of them avoid communicating with the enemy at all costs.  So it's possible that Jessica, avoiding contact with Kate, just assumed that Kate would let me in, but that Kate, knowing it was not her guest at the door, felt it was not her job to open it.  It's also possible that Kate just assumed that Jessica or Stacy heard the door when in fact they didn't and while she buzzed me in the outer door, she didn't feel it was her job to take any further action.  What bullshit.  At any rate, I was a victim of Jessica's senseless war against Kate.  I was pissed.  I left and headed back to my office to sleep on the floor.

 

On the bench outside Darwin's was an opened but mostly full bag of cashews.  Here's what I've come to.  I picked them up.  The bag looked clean, perhaps just forgotten.  Perhaps someone reconsidered and decided to stick to their diet after all.  I slipped the bag in my purse and walked on.  In my office, the cashews were a welcome midnight snack.  My phone did ring about midnight, but I was still pissed and wasn't about to answer it.  Sat in front of the computer in a sour mood doing nothing until late.  Finally lied down on the floor, rested my head on my tote bag, draped my coat over me for a blanket, and closed my eyes for a few hours.

Thursday, November 29.  Grumpy in the morning and feeling ugly, I stayed in my office with the door closed all morning, only poking my head out once to retrieve last night's doggy bag from the hall fridge.  Some time after noon, I walked back to Stacy's and buzzed again.  She greeted me at the door with a smile and handed me a key.  I was instantly in a better mood, and we talked and had nice conversation while I tweezed more hairs from my face.  I was really being away from work for too long but it was so nice to talk.  She gave me a tub of yogurt to take with me for an afternoon snack.  Wanting a few more calories and a little more pleasure, I bought a cherry Coke at Darwins, went and filled my Prozac prescription, and returned to work.

 

In a happier mood, I wasn't feeling so ugly any more but it was true that Sunday evening was actually my last shower.  See, Stacy and Jessica's place is pretty dilapidated, and without going into detail about their shower, let me just say that I wanted another option.  I called Lisa.  "Where exactly is the shower you were saying is somewhere in the building?"  "Meet me.  I'll show you."  Fascinating, it was.  After the tour of a couple of little known corners of the building, we swung by my office and I gave her that suit jacket that used to be Tina's.  Daphne called around the end of the day to remind me about a presentation on HIV research at the Boston Living Center.  She thought of me when she saw that it was free and that they were serving food.  Hey, I'm not below that.  I went.

At the BLC there were indeed nice hors d'oeuvres and soft drinks, but I ended up not eating so much because the presentation and the conversation among the attendees was just fascinating.  The presentation was about the recent vaccine trial that was halted in failure and how to understand the reports of this that were appearing in the media.  Audience looked to be mostly gay men.  I didn't notice any other obviously trans women there.  I did see Alex...I feel so bad that I never sent him my comments on the supper club.  Maybe he'll forgive me if I tell him I was in jail?

 

On the way home, who did I run into at random, but Kuan-Chung!  We started talking and wanted to talk longer than just the train ride back, so he got off with me at Harvard to tag along for a bit.  I knew I would need more food that I ate at the BLC so my first stop was the 7-11 where I got a sandwich and lemonade.  The two of us walked back to my office.  "Oh, it looks just like where I work!" he exclaimed as we wound our way through the hallways.  "Just the posters are different."  That is, it's a pretty generic science lab.  He works in bioscience, I work in astronomy--only the posters are different.  He shared a cookie with me before I walked him down the stairs to the bus stop to send him home.  He's so pleasant, so nice, he must have been so bored to want to hang out with me!  I checked a few things on the computer, before returning to Stacy's.  Thursday happens to be one of her nights off.  She was home and happy to see me--in bed.

Friday, November 30.  After a couple hours of sleep, I was up for work and Stacy gave me a salad for lunch again.  It was nice to have that salad ready for lunch time, but I needed breakfast.  Four ginger snaps and coffee would have to do.  The salad was good, but I wanted just a few more calories.  Gareth had mentioned earlier that Jimmy, the guy that drives the lunch truck, had been asking about me.  How sweet.  How could I not go buy something from him.  I got a coffee milk and dropped it in my purse on the way down to the bus stop to run a mid-day errand.  I had visited the community boating web site and seen that this was the last day to claim locker contents before it was all given to charity.  I was very happy to find all of my stuff there in the lost and found bin.  I also couldn't resist taking a couple of items that weren't mine:  An unopened can of soda, and a women's winter scarf.  I needed a scarf after leaving my nice one on a commuter rail last year.  All I had now were boy scarves, and I wanted a girl scarf.  With my stuff in a plastic bag, I made a quick trip upstairs to tell the director that I had happily found my stuff and that I was leaving now.  I couldn't resist asking him though...  "If you have a moment, I have kind of a strange question" I began.  I know, I've regretted asking this question every time I've asked it, and I've sworn off ever asking it again, but this was a special opportunity.  I was alone with the director of the whole organization, at the end of the whole season.  It seemed ok to ask his perspective from this point.  "Was I, ok this year?  I mean, you know, I sailed here for a few years, then skipped a year, then came back, as a woman..."  He was nodding, understanding. and waiting for me to finish.  "...and I wondered if you had heard anything...negative."  He was still nodding.  "No, he said.  No one has said a thing."  I was smiling tentatively now.  "Oh good.  I guess, no reaction from people is the best possible reaction."  Wanting to just express some general appreciation for his organization, I elaborated.  "Always before, the most rewarding thing for me was to take new people out for instruction and teach them sailing.  I, didn't know how that would go this year, but I tried it and it turned out to be every bit as successful and rewarding.  I really enjoyed this year."  "That's great" he said smiling and nodding.  "Hey, you know, over this winter, we have a few dates for work parties.  I could get you those dates..."  "Oh, they're on the web site" I acknowledged.  I'll watch for them there..."  I thanked him again and left, for once actually glad I had asked this  question of, "am I allowed to exist?"  I was happy enough I couldn't resist buying a Dunkin muffin on the way back to work.  The muffin held me until dinner time, when Stacy fed me chili on rice.  Jessica happened to be out so I used the opportunity to on her computer to update my journal here.  Omg, it had been so long.  Jessica came home before too long though, and for some reason had money burning a hole in her pocket.  She wanted to take me to Charlie's.  How could I refuse?!  Two beers, hello's to all the regulars there, home to sleep with Jessica.

Saturday, December 1.  I had agreed to meet Daphne and spend some time with her over the weekend.  She had left a phone message on Stacy's machine that she was working Saturday and should be free shortly after 2pm.  I woke at 9am, again at 10:30, and was up at 11:00.  Stacy fed me a pear and cooked rice cereal with banana.  Dressed and went into the office, which is complimenting Stacy's place nicely as part of my temporary home.  I checked emails and stuff, then showered and put on clean clothes, and packed the last several days worth of dirty clothes to take to Daphne's.  I had some time for people watching while I waited for Daphne to get off work.  South Station was crazy with special holiday attractions so it was entertaining.  Daphne finally appeared.  Home in Attleboro, she fixed a wonderful dinner of stir fry chicken and vegetables on rice, and cranberry sauce left over from Thanksgiving.  Coffee, computer, TV, bed.  Nice to get away.  Nice to see Daphne after so long.

Sunday, December 2.  I couldn't stay in bed in the morning.  I was up starting laundry, washing my wig, playing on the computer more.  Daphne fixed us a nice breakfast of eggs, bacon, and hash browns.  I did a bunch more cleaning during the day.  Toward evening, I fixed myself a little snack of salad and bread, not wanting to go too long between lunch and dinner.  Daphne was hungry before long herself, and whipped up another great meal:  steak, potatoes, onion soup, salad, and cranberries on ice cream.  We watched more TV and then I used the tub for a long and luxurious bubble bath.

 

Monday December 3.  Coming into the city with Daphne means I'm at work early.  I should really do this more often.  No plans for lunch, so I went to Stacy's to forage.  I decided to make pea soup.  It turned out really good but took way too long to prepare.  No worries.  I didn't have anything pressing at work, so I stayed at my desk late into the evening.  At one point I got an email from Rachel inviting me to Natick tomorrow, as she was going to be there with Lucy.  In a flurry of emails we planned the transportation and dressing issues for the three of us.  Home to Jessica's late at night, I stayed up even later to paint my nails for the first time in six weeks.  I don't know why it struck me so, but I really got a kick out of doing the whole girl thing.  Jessica and her computer were sprawled over half of her bed, I lied on my tummy on the other side and painted my nails.  Jessica said "I could never lie like that" meaning, I presume, that her back wouldn't arch like mine.  I took it as a challenge.  On my tummy, up on two elbows, back arched, base coat, two coats of color, top coat, one hour of drying time while I read one of her forced feminization pulps.  Hmph.  I did it.  Um...is that ok? ...that I would take a casual comment like that as a challenge?  Is it a guy thing?  I hope not.  I loved so much the moment of us just being two girls, lounging around in a girls room, doing girl things.  Hm, ok, maybe my thinking was a bit off.  I guess "girl" isn't very accurate.  I guess it's "tranny."  Whatever, I loved the feeling.

 

[2 comments]

Crash

December 6th, 2007 10:28 pm MST

The weekend after the aborted telescope run was spent in bed, in pain, stressing over this upcoming court date on Tuesday, and ignoring all calls and messages.  In particular I'd been ignoring Daphne and Deedee for over a week now.  I had confessed my legal problems to them and they were anxious for me to do something to deal with the problems.  I had done nothing.  I had nothing to tell them and I didn't want to listen to them ask why and lecture me about doing something.

Tuesday morning came after yet another sleepless night.  This would be my second court appearance since going full time last spring.  The other court appearance had been my only day to dress male mode since.  Since this case predates Sonia, since I'm still legally male, and since appearing en femme before a judge seemed an unnecessary distraction, I wanted to go male mode again.  I really wanted to leave the house that way, but Al was piddling in the kitchen and there was no way around him.  So, women's ankle boots, women's jeans, men's button shirt, men's sport coat, wig, and purse over my shoulder, and I popped out of my bedroom door, breezed by Al, tossing a "good morning" over my shoulder, and whisking out the front door without giving him a chance to answer.  Somewhere along the way to the courthouse, I don't remember where, I pulled off the wig, stowed it in a plastic bag in the purse, and transferred the purse from my shoulder to my hand.

The story of court is featureless and not worth telling.  It ends with the judge saying "35 days."  I was going to jail.

I journalled a bit from jail. Much of what I wrote is aimless.  Here I'm just transcribing parts of interest.  My writing starts with me still in a daze:

Wednesday, October 24.  Nice to have paper and pen after just one day here.  I suppose also nice to have a year or so of writing practice.  No idea what to write about.  First the fact:  I'm in jail.  And I'm alive.  Concerns of others that I might be suicidal have been proven unfounded.  My concern, that I would be incapacitated without ibuprofen, has also passed.  My neck has been spasming some, but not as badly as I'd feared.  Rest helps, massage helps, Dr. Deb's acupressure technique helps.  Just changing positions, standing for a while, helps.  Quite likely the biggest help of all is relief from the stress of this day finally passing.  The uncertainty of it and the self-brought stress of not doing anything to prepare for it or avoid it.  The obvious question is why.  I dread that question because I don't have an answer.  I don't know why I've done this.  I really don't.

[I ramble here about detoxing, being bored with people telling each other tales of violence,  the world series, buying cosmetics rather than snacks from the jail canteen, my chaotic sleep patterns, and how the late night trashy dating shows on TV are so het.]

I'm enjoying little expressions of femininity.  When I first got a bunk here Tuesday, Kirin was the first, really the only, person to say hi and ask me my name.  "Sonia" I answered  He blinked in disbelief and said "No, really."  "Kyle" I tried again.  He recovered his composure and said, "Oh, you're funny...."  Later in the day after he'd had time to think, he came back for more detail.  "So you're gay?"  "I was living as a woman" I came right out and said.  He wanted to caution me not to throw that in people's faces there because they don't care and don't want to know--at best.  So I haven't been, but I've been quiet in general, minding my own business, but trying to at least be aware of what's going on.  Most everyone else seems pretty good at this and so my feminine quirks don't seem to bother anyone.  My nails are delightfully long right now and still nicely covered with clear polish.  My eyebrows still have their severely plucked shape, my face still not showing much of any beard shadow.  And I've been flaunting as few mannerisms here there.  I'll sit in feminine ways and try to follow my usual practice for elbows, arms, hands, fingers, posture, shoulders, and walk.  My arms still look nicely enough shaved and it's been nice to wash them and then use this nice smelling lotion [that I bought from canteen.]

[More rambling about my sore neck, my diet (documented in absurd detail,) dealing with soft contact lenses, dealing with the jail medical staff.]

One thing I didn't report was my transgenderism.  Medical might like to know, but this is, yet anyway, an undiagnosed medical condition.  I'm not even sure I want that diagnosis.  I do miss being Sonia, but I'm ok with putting her away for a month and that's all that seems to make sense.  Physical modifications to my body aren't so dramatic that anyone here seems bothered, I'm not on any hormone prescriptions, and I've always said how fortunate are the TS's that can put the girl in the closet for a limited time in order to achieve longer range goals.  Time to take my own medicine.

Random Sonia thought:  Kissy face lip pose.  I think I just learned this last week!  The trick to making the lips pucker is to pull the corners of the mouth toward the middle.  So simple, but I didn't get it until last week!  This was a problem at Natick one night about a year ago when Danielle had done my lip makeup and we were posing for Tiffany's camera.  Someone had the idea of us doing a photo with pouty lips and I didn't know how to do it.  I tried to push my lips out and succeeded in only making a face like I had put something with a bad taste in my mouth.  A clue that it was possible came from Jessica, the esthetician at Beauty and Main.  She said I had good lips.  "Really?" I questioned her.  I thought my lips were impossibly thin male lips but she argued that they were plenty full.  Frustrating evidence came with a picture Rachel posted of herself with super pouty kissy lips.  Rachel's lips are as thin as mine!  How did she do that?  (Also frustrating, how does she know that and I don't?  It's frustrating that some girls are seemingly so much more naturally feminine than me! :(((  The final key cam when I watched an episode of "America's Next Top Model."  With serendipity, the gimmick they had picked to this episode was to have the contestants (women) crossdress as men for a photo shoot with professional drag queens.  At one point, one of the judges, a man, was criticizing one of the contestants for failing to make her lips look masculine.  He pointed to one of the photos saying "See?  You're doing this..." and he made the pouty face, "instead of this" and he let his lips return to their natural thin-lip male shape.  Wow!  So there it was demonstrated right in front of me!  I tried a few times in front of the mirror and I saw the light.  So... just one day later I'm getting my mug shot for jail and I try practicing.  I don't exactly want a kissy face, but I try making my lips look fuller by pulling the corners in a little.  It worked!  It's not an attractive photo by any means.  I look totally beat, like, scary stressed, weary and defeated, which of course, I was.  And, another lesson I still haven't learned is not to let my head tilt to the right for straight-on pictures because my mouth is already tilted to the right a bit and tilting it more makes for photos where my mouth just jumps out as looking disturbingly crooked.  My mugshot is like this.  But at least the lips are full!  I was pleased.  One last posing tip from the show:  They were saying that a clenched jaw masculinizes the face.  Haven't practiced that in the mirror yet but it makes sense.

[More rambling about food, getting medicine, playing Monopoly.]

[Ha, there's a funny story I didn't write up about my Monopoly partner relating a nightmare where lots of crazy things happened.  One of the scary things he dreamed was that I was scratching him with my long fingernails.]

Friday, October 26.  [A page and a half of nothing:  A visit from the nurse, guys amused at me being cheerful and ditzy, sketching with colored pencils.]

Saturday, October 27.  Bad muscle spasms sent me to bed early yesterday and have been a problem all day today.  [Boring stuff: reminiscing about camming that recent night, more about my health.]

Then this on my sad state in life:  My happy pill is nice but it's also good for me to listen to some of these guys tell stories about losing everything in life and then getting started again.  It gives me inspiration.  From where will I start?  Will I still have an apartment?  A job?  Will I have any clothes?  Any possessions?  Quite sure I won't have any cash.  Will my credit card work?  Answers could be all no.  Suppose I do still have a job, will it be enough to satisfy the court?

Ok, happy thoughts while my neck is happy--my night with Stacy.  We'd waited so long for this and it turned out great.  She called when she was free after work.  I'd started the night without her at Charlie's Kitchen with dinner and a beer.  I was worried I wouldn't recognize her because she was coming male mode and I'd never seen her male mode!  It was easy though when she rolled in all smiles and gave me a hug.  She ordered me another beer so we could have a few minutes to hang out at the bar before leaving.  It was wonderful for me to be there with a guy who was obviously my date.  Um, not to slight any of the other men who have taken me out or gone out with me in the past, but, Charlie's is my Cheers, where everybody knows my name, and Stacy is, mm, yummy.  He was getting up to use the restroom before we left and kissed me on the cheek and I guess my eyes were wide or my mouth was hanging open or something because he asked if that was all right.  "Are you kidding?" I asked.  "It's every tranny's dream to be kissed in public by a handsome man!"  He took me to his hotel room, in his rental Crown Vic, and we made sweet, long awaited, love.  I apologized afterward for erratically switching back and forth over the night between seeing him as a man and seeing her as a woman.  It was Stacy the the girl I knew when we talked, when I looked at her face, when I kissed her deliciously soft girl lips.  And then, I would look down and see this broad sexy man's back under me on the couch and I would get such a thrill at being this man's girl--er, except I was on top--and then my head would spin at the craziness of it all and I loved it.  She took me home before midnight, I went in and dropped off a bag or something, I don't remember what, and then, I was bad:  I went back to Charlie's on my own.  It was bad because I really didn't need to drink any more and I really didn't need my ego stroked.  But it felt so good!  I fielded questions about my date, and ended up sitting next to these three gay cuties.  One of them wanted to talk to me, explain that he had seem me all around Harvard Square.  He, and everyone else saw this as a compliment, but it made me feel a little strange.  It shouldn't, I know.  I know I'm visible, and I've long since given up on going to a lot of trouble to always wear makeup and stuff, yet to have my visibility pointed out makes me worry that some of the people I'm visible to might not exactly be fans.  As I explained to this guy (Jason?  Was that his name?) it only takes one hater to ruin my day.  Anyway, I was basking in tranniness that night.  Chris complained, "How did you become a celebrity?  I've been coming to this bar for years and no pays attention to me!"  Poor Chris, we love him though.  Ok, I've been sitting in front of an open window this whole time I've been writing and I'm frozen now.  Bedtime.

Sunday, October 28.  [Complaining about my worsening health, then this:]

Fingernails still in good shape.  I'm regretting a conversation from a few minutes ago, though.  A guy was complaining about his face itching after a few days without shaving.  [We hadn't been given any razors up to this point.]  A couple of us agreed.  I said it had been five days for me.  He looked at me and said "what, you don't got no facial hair?"  I think I smiled a guilty smile and shook my head no.  "Do you wax?"  I answered yes, thinking that waxing would probably produce results pretty close to the tweezing that I had really been doing.  But then I regretted immediately the little lie and even more, the brush off.  I wished I had said "Not waxing, laser.  I'm a tranny..."

Tuesday, October 30.  [Just bemoaning not being able to write because of the neck pain.]

Tuesday, November 6.  [A week had passed in pain.  Continued explanation of the neck pain, and a note that this was the first day the pain had lessened enough to let me sleep.]

Excitement for the last week was Jessica and Stacy visiting, getting a card from Al and Kuan-Chung, getting to shave, and finding out that I might get out next week, at 23 days rather than at 35.  They told the story of tracking me down in jail.  The whole sequence of events wasn't completely clear to me, but they mentioned talking to Al, Deedee, and Daphne.  They promised to return on Thursday eventing, which would be really nice.

I learned from Stacy that the captain on duty had strongly advised them against visiting dressed as women for future visits.  I think his justification was to avoid embarrassing me.  Then after they left, the captain gave me a similar warning.  He fumbled for words, kind of searching for diplomatic way of expressing things, finally saying that he didn't want there to be "problems" for me.  Ugh, wish I could write more now but my neck is cramping again.

Here's what I wrote in a letter to Stacy:

About coming to visit male mode, I feel pretty strongly that you shouldn't.  Coming male mode would be marginalizing yourselves.  It wouldn't be just a concession to any individuals here at the jail, but would be a concession to the heteronormative memeplex that would deny us first class citizenship.  I'd be disappointed to see you male mode.  And you know, I told you that I went to court male mode, but absolutely the only reason was to not complicate matters by forcing the judge to wonder if it was a bizarre stunt intended to manipulate or distract from the legal issues.  As soon as it was over, I really wished I was en femme just so everyone would have seen the person I really am, and so I could have seen how they would deal with me at the jail.  Also, while I dressed male mode to face the judge, I've come to the courthouse on other days as Sonia and had no problems whatsoever working with any of the court workers.  I showed them my drab ID and they didn't even raise an eyebrow.

It's not surprising though, that the officer you talked to tried to discourage you from coming as yourselves.  My perception, after observing a number of the correction officers over ten days now, is that as a group, they are far more homophobic than the general population.  Jokes about gays are told they way fifth grade school boys would tell them, with giggles about the taboo.  Jokes, really almost all comments, about women are viciously misogynistic.  I don't get this same feeling from the inmates.  Their attitudes about women and gays seem to to be pretty close to those of the general population--the population you as a transwoman deal with every day.

Friday, November 9.  [News that I was indeed there for 35 days.  Then sadness:]  My nails are short again.  A nurse warned me that I could get in trouble for having long nails.  She just made a statement and didn't pose any question to me so I didn't respond.  I wanted to protest that no one had told me that rule and that anyway, I had tried to order nail clippers from canteen but that they didn't come.  The job of a jail nurse is not to show concern though, so I didn't bother.  The clippers came the second week when I reordered them and I sadly trimmed all ten long beautiful nails.  At least there's a little clear polish left on them.

I've found other simple pleasures recently.  We finally got to shave one day.  We were given 15 minutes so several of us were madly scrambling to share the running water in one sink.  After I had made only a couple of swipes on my face, one guy looked at me and said "damn, that's a really good shave!"  This experience has really made me appreciate how much of my beard shadow the laser removed, even if it seems that lots of whiskers are still left.  A couple of minutes later my face was smooth to my standards so I pulled off my shirt and did my arms and armpits.  Eyebrows went up, but no one said a word.  [In fact, I later saw another guy shaving his armpits.]  Cocoa butter lotion to make the skin soft and I was a happy girl.  Happy to show off my arms in the cafeteria the next day too.  Since day one here, I've been wearing my sleeves turned up to form a cuff and show a little more skin,, making my arms look just a little more long and slender.  I've seen the CO's call a couple of guys on creative ways of wearing the jail uniforms, but so far no one has told me to turn my cuffs down.  Anyway, it's just one little turn, so the effect is subtle.  More obvious, I think, is the way I've been rolling up my pant legs.  Everyone has to roll up their pant legs because the jumpsuits they give us are absurdly oversized.  My little variant is that I fold the pant legs tightly against my angles before rolling them, so instead of a baggy pants look, I get a neat taper to my legs and then show off my ankles.  Just silliness, but I like it.

Sunday, November 11.  The things you learn in jail!  A guy just demonstrated how to make a blow up doll (well, the important body part anyway) out of a latex glove.  You take a glove and blow it up to about the size of a basket ball.  He said making it even larger is better.  The size of a beach ball?  Tie off the wrist as you would a balloon, then pull the index and ring fingers around the outside in opposite directions, tying them together over the knotted wrist.  This pulls the originally rounded shape into a shape like two buns.  Push the middle finger to the interior to form the orifice.  Lubricate as desired.

My girl moment was this morning at meds.  I was happy to get them as always and as I returned to my bunk, a group of guys erupted in laughter and one said "go get 'em Smalley."  [Er, that's my legal last name.]  "What?" I said with puzzlement and a smile.  "You did a little dance there."  I realized I was smiling at happiness at getting the meds and must have been acting very Sonia.  It was good natured fun from them and nothing cruel.

[Some stuff about some book I was reading to pass the time.]

Monday, November 12.  I had hints of this yesterday but today it's been very clear--my muscle problem has lessened.  I can still feel it when the medicine wears off, but it's pain I can tolerate and still function.  Maybe this problem will be gone by the time I leave here?

Saturday, November 17.  Muscle problem being completely controlled by medicine now.  Haven't been writing much here because I've been writing to Stacy instead!

In a 14 page letter started Wednesday the 14th, I told her all about a hospital visit one day.  "...at least a change of scenery, a car ride, a look up at the open sky on certain one of the nicest days in November."  I talked about food and bragged about my weight, telling how one officer was baffled at how to put a waist chain on me at one point because I was so skinny.  I told how a side effect of the hospital trip was that I got bumped into a different part of the jail when I got back.  I wrote:

The different areas of this place have very different "personalities."  The area I was in before was kind of like nursery school and this place is more like high school.  In area #1, (let's call it) lots of us laid around and napped all day.  I'll see for sure tomorrow, but there seems to be a busy social scene here and I'm pretty sure that napping during the day just won't happen.  In area #1, the teacher sat in the room with us and nobody thought of misbehaving.  In area #2, the teachers stay in the teachers' lounge as much as possible and we kind of self-rule by gangs.  In nursery school, class size was 12.  Here in high school, there are 72 of us packed into study hall.  And, maybe most interestingly, in area #1, Kirin was right, that no one cared about my story.  He ended up being the only one there that knew my name is Sonia.  With the little micro society here in area #2, inquiring minds want to know.  I was quickly interrogated about a few of my obvious quirks--like my shaved arms--and I was ready to just out myself as trans and it's looking now (Thursday, 5:15pm) like I'll be known as Sonia here!

I wrote back to her about lots of stuff that she had written me about.  I jabbered more about my diet.  She had asked me in a letter if I would go back to male mode if I had to look for a new job when I got out.  My reply was a little vague:

Job hunting male mode would sure be a last resort.  I get so many mixed signals on this I don't know what to think.  I'll do whatever I have to do, but there are so many encouraging signs that I will be accepted as Sonia at future jobs.

The letter went on to talk about various lousy jail policies, my hospital trip, my now improving health, and...shaving:

Oh, another nice thing about this area is that we have more razor time.  In the other place I barely had time to shave my arms.  Last night I had time to do my legs as well!  That creeped out a couple of guys but it felt so nice to have smooth legs again.  A couple of guys nervously asked who I was shaving my legs for and seemed somewhat relieved when I said "just for me.  No one else."  Seriously, guys shaving their faces got just as much flak.  A few people sneered at them asking if they had hot dates for the night or asking them why they bothered to shave in jail.  Fair enough, hm?

Later in the letter, this:

Hey, you'll like knowing that you were wildly popular today.  I'm not sure how so many of them saw you, since we were in that little alcove instead of the bigger room but lots of the guys saw you today and were all full of questions afterwards.  [It turned out that many of their visitors had had the chance to talk with Stacy while waiting, and that stories were then passed on from the visitors to the inmates.]  You can also share my happiness that there was not a single negative comment.  It probably helped that just yesterday about ten of us sat around and I was prompted to tell all about me as Sonia and they all shared what knew from other transsexuals that they had known.  The short of it is that out of 70 or so guys, we have a few that are totally out as gay, and it's nothing much different for me to be out as trans, and everyone is ok with that.

---

Monday, November 26.  I'm released after 35 days in jail.  On the way out the door they gave me a check for the money in my canteen account, $53.98, which was what was left of the $75 I came in with plus $30 that Kuan-Chung deposited for me as a gift.  Across the street at the court house, I recovered my purse, containing an additional $1.31.  Making me much happier though, my purse contained my wig and the gold necklace from Trina.  I went in the men's room, straightened up as best I could, donned wig and necklace, and walked out looking (at least somewhat) like Sonia for the first time in a month.

I was wearing a man's button shirt and sport coat, no hip pads, no breast forms or bra, no makeup to cover my beard shadow, but I held my head up and walked out on the street.  The ticket machine at the train station confirmed that none of my bank cards worked.  As I expected, they had all been shut off.  $1.31 isn't enough to by a bus fare these days, but weather was nice enough for the 40 minute walk to my office.  I arrived just in time for morning coffee, where people were happy to see me, and all acted oblivious to my rough appearance.  After checking in with various people and checking emails, I walked "home", to my old apartment in hopes of talking to Al.

Sure enough, he was there and filled me in on part of the story of my disappearance.  True to form, some of the story he omitted, and some of it I had to dig out of him. He explained to me that all of my belongings were locked up in the basement, but couldn't tell me why or under what conditions I could have them back.  I asked him who got stuck with the manual labor of moving all of my stuff to the basement and he was mute.  "You?" I asked.  "Surely not the landlady.  Did she pay someone?"  He was speechless, looking at the floor like a child shamed to death for, say, breaking a vase, and trembling in fear of punishment.  "I was persistent and refused to move on to a different topic of conversation until he gave me an answer.  He startled at this realization that he was going to be forced to answer.  He startled and his whole body shook like a marionette.  Finally in a hushed voice, he said that Kuan-Chung moved everything, after the landlady boxed everything up.  It absolutely boggles my mind how he could be fearful of divulging this information, how he could be ashamed, what backlash or retribution he imagined could come from it.  In my mind, I had asked a simple question because I wanted to know who deserved my apologetic feelings for them being troubled with lugging my belongings to the basement.  In his mind...what?  What?  In his mind I must have been accusing him of something terrible?  I haven't come right out and said this about Al yet, but seriously, he has some profound mental disabilities.  It's really tragic.  Regardless, knowing I had no money, he insisted on giving me $20 as I left.

No more could be done there, so I went back to my office where I could read more emails.  I had over 2000 emails in various places to skim through, tens of thousands of others that had been delivered to me, but that I would just archive without looking at.  A few hours later, I was done, I knew Al would have left for his work by then, and that Kuan-Chung should be home.  Back to the apartment, Kuan-Chung was very happy to see me and fill me in on much of the story that I didn't get from Al.  He also fed me a dinner of dumplings in tomato sauce, and let me into the basement to recover what I wanted of my belongings.  I found my tote bag and filled it with the essentials for spending the night at Stacy and Jessica's.  I rummaged through boxes just enough to find a change of clothes to wear the next day and happened to find a very nice cowl neck sweater that Dina must have given me but that I didn't even recognize and so I'm sure I hadn't even worn yet.  I also used the house phone to call Daphne and Jessica, leaving voice messages for both of them.  Finally, saying goodnight to Kuan-Chung, I walked to Stacy and Jessica's place, found them home, filled in yet more blanks in the story of what everyone had done to deal with my disappearance, and eventually slept, between the two of them, in a real bed.

 

[1 comment]

Nose Dive

November 30th, 2007 9:21 pm MST

No journal entries for a while because I was headed for, um, challenges ...in a handbasket.  Here are a few scraps of journalling I found.  They're representative of what I was up to during this period. 

September, 22, Saturday:  Met Daphne at South Station.  Home with her.  Piddled Sunday and failed to get to Benefit at Machine.  Frustrated with Daphne because she was so late, because then she was afraid to go places in public, because she had no money to spend, because I had to pee.  Home, invited her in while I peed, then kicked her out.  She didn't leave for 20 minutes after I told her to leave.  Went to Charlies for food and drink.  Drank five, I think, then came home and started playing on web cam for some people.  Got out tequila, made margarita, drank two, went in the bathroom and threw up.  Monday, was feeling a little ill.  By Tuesday, was coughing up plum-sized globs of green stuff from my lungs.  Same on Wednesday.  Better Thursday and Friday.

September 28, Friday evening, was sitting at home bored and started playing with makeup.  Al came home about the time I was finished and was acting astonished at the result.  I was pleased, but never believe him.  I knew I'd get more honest reactions from people at the bar.  I'd already decided I was going to Charlie's, just to get out of the house.  I told Al I was going out "to walk in the dark."  He said, "Ok, but you're going to get propositioned!"  I didn't think my makeup was going to get any special attention because I'd done a very soft and natural look, with very little color or drama.  I walked in Charlie's though, and every one of the regulars did double takes and stared.  Wow, I guess I had done something good.  Of course, they were most used to seeing me with no makeup or 60 second makeup, but still, I know they'd all seen me in full makeup before, and I'd never gotten that reaction.  Fascinating.

This weekend:  Friday, October 5, drinking with Jessica.  Saturday, MFA with Deedee, TCNE, home with Daphne.  Monday morning, home on early train with Daphne.  Monday afternoon, nap.  Evening, Diesel with Al and Kwan Chin, movie, work at office.

---

Ok, actually writing on November 30 here, I'll fill in a few more days.  Thursday, October  11, I went to Gender Crash and posted this to Sisters of Boston:

Hi Lisa :)

I was there last night.  Gender crash happens once a month and I've
been going to most of them.  It is fun, there's lots going on there.
Some of the performances last night were moving, some were hilarious.
All of them were thought provoking.  I saw people I knew, I met new
people, I ate cookies, and best of all, I won free tickets to a show
next week!  Write me if you want to know more. :)

Sonia Kiss,
Socialata mothius

(The nick name was given to me by Rachel, after I called myself a "social moth" once.)  Lisa did encourage me to tell a little more.  Here are exerpts from my next  post:

...  Last night there were three trans girls sitting
together.  One I have met a few times and I know her name, one I
recognized from other events but hadn't learned her name yet, and one
I didn't recognize.  They were all about the same age (at least a
decade younger than me) and sat together.  I assumed they all new each
other and were friends.  At intermission, I had other people I needed
to talk to and didn't find time to do more than smile at them.  On the
subway ride home though, the one of the three that I hadn't recognized
was sitting across from me.  I was sitting next to a chatty gay guy
but after a while I excused myself to go meet this girl.  In talking
to her, I found out that she had just arrived in Boston, didn't know
anyone, didn't know those other girls she sat with, and didn't talk to
them or anyone else.  I was the only person that talked to her, and
here, not until the train ride home!  [...]  I gave her a card with my name, phone number, and email.  I hope I hear from her.

I was excited about those  tickets because they were to a Big Moves show and I just love those girls.  Very sadly, I didn't go to the show.  I had kind of told Daphne about the tickets and I was hoping she would come with me, but I was in this "nose dive" of declining physical and mental health.  I was stressing over an upcoming court date, over not going to see my therapist in a long time, and over avoiding making an appointment with an Ear Nose and Throat specialist.  Dr. Breshel had refered me to this ENT because of breathing problems.  For some reason, I'd been finding excuses to not make this appointment.  A more disabling health problem I'd been having was muscles spasms in my neck and shoulders.  These were getting worse, and as the night came up for the Big Moves show, I didn't feel like doing anything but taking Ibuprophen and wimpering in bed.

About the same time, I also had three nights of telescope time scheduled.  I worked the first night, then writhed in pain on the floor of my office for a few hours before going home.  I made Tim finish the run for me.  So, I'd been missing days of work because of this neck pain, I'd been using the excuse that I was observing for not showing up some of these days.  At the same time my breathing problem was getting worse and worse.  I'd all but lost my voice, and when the muscle spasms were at their worst, I would pant in pain and agrivate the breathing problem to the point where I would start to panic that I couldn't get enough breath.  Nothing I do makes sense, I know.  I'm an idiot.

[2 comments]

Oh, just go buy a black skirt

September 17th, 2007 11:14 pm MDT

Saturday was Steffi's. The main event for the day was a blues festival in the evening, but this was also the day for me to make up for the day I sent Steffi home early when she had wanted to go sailing with me. This turned out to be a perfect day for sailing. Red flag, strong enough wind to keep most people off the water, but still not too wet or scary. So, sailing was fast, the temperature was perfect, the day was just beautiful. Steffi said it was her best day of the entire summer. Really! I think she was just kind of caught up in the moment but she was completely sincere as she said this. We were short on time for dinner between sailing and the blues festival so I took her to Anna's Taqueria for dinner. We had college student on the run burritos and Steffi loved that too. The festival itself was so cool. Steffi had complimentary tickets from her radio show in New Hamphire. She was boy mode, by the way, because people in her blues circle of friends only know her as Steve. And know her, they did. So many people, both performers and attendees, recognized her and wanted to talk to her. I don't know my blues, but apparently these were some very accomplished performers, and so I felt like the eye candy on the arm of a celebrity. The music was awesome. We had seats in the balcony, but we could see there was a lively dance party going on downstairs in front of the stage. A New Orleans style brass band played in the lobby as we exited. Fun, fun, night. Thank you Steffi. Sunday I slept late and had a lazy day in general. Stacy called in the evening and I went to visit her. It turned out that Jessica wasn't there, but Kate was, and the three of us had nice conversation. Stacy went to work then, and I went...to Charlie's. Bad Sonia. Monday no notes, Tuesday Natick, Wednesday Daphne. Thursday: Stacy called again in the afternoon but I had plans already. Steffi was coming down again because one of the blues singers from last Saturday, Nicole Nelson, was at Johnny D's, right there in Davis Square again. She got us in on her guest list and we got seated at "table #1", right in front of the stage. Music was great, of course, and she was was appreciative of us being there. I don't remember her exact words, but she was happy that we were obviously engaged in the music and displaying a little animation there in the front of the crowd. We both ordered a little food. I had one drink, an Old Fashioned. Johnny D's rendition was pretty clean. Bourbon, sweet, a smashed maraschino cherry in the bottom, and that was it. Friday I tried to reproduce my record quick route to Sisters but failed miserably. The bus arrived at the orange line station just as the train was leaving, and the orange line runs so infrequently, that by the time the next train came, I had missed the bus for the third leg of the journey. I skipped Sisters and just went home. Saturday home all day, Sunday at Daphne's. Monday it was nice after work and I went sailing. Didn't have anything special planned and so asked at the dock house as usual if anyone was waiting for instruction. There was a blue card there, but the dock staff said no. I was curious, of course, but didn't say anything, just checked out my boat and started rigging it. I was half done when a guy walked up and asked if I was sail number (whatever) and if I was still willing to take someone out for instruction. Of course I was! We went, had a great time, I think he learned a lot. He was comfortable and friendly with me. So, this is the instruction experience I am used to, but still....I wonder about the little scene at the dock house. At the beginning of this season, when I wasn't sure how well I would be accepted, the first few times I offered instruction I approached it a little bit cautiously. I would offer, but at the same time say that I needed to get something out of my locker first or make up some other little excuse to be away from the dock house for a few minutes. I was thinking this would get the dock staff a chance to collect their thoughts about assigning someone to a tranny, maybe getting a second opinion, or maybe calling someone for instruction and asking them how they would feel about going out with a tranny. My caution seemed unwarranted though, as the dock staff never blinked, just assigned me people as usual. I'd had good experiences all summer so I'd long since abandoned that little game of disappearing for a few minutes. But...it's possible that it kind of played out that way this day. Makes me wonder. Was the blue card I saw unrelated, and did my guy just walk up and ask for instruction after I checked out the boat? Was the dock staff just momentarily disorganized? Or did they send me off to rig a boat so they would have a chance to give the guy waiting for instruction the heads up and give him the option to keep waiting? Look at me, paranoid after a year. :( Tuesday I was wanting that Cajun shrimp and crawfish salad from Border Cafe. Ate there, had a margarita, then went to Charlie's for more margaritas. Wednesday was dinner and drinking at Grendal's Den. Thursday was dinner and drinking at Charlie's. Three days of being bad with alcohol. I could have a problem... Friday at Sisters, Ashley was full of excitement over the First Event Fashion Show. That was a bit tedious, then finally I had the chance to chat with new girls Lilli and Josie. Lilli was particularly appreciative of having someone to talk to. When Ashley was asking who wanted to go dancing, I said my only excuse was that I had no money in my pocket. At that point Lilli handed me a twenty and insisted that I go. We went to Pure again and again it was a cool scene. Josie drove, and it was just three of us at first, Josie, Ashley, and myself, although Ashley was talking to people on the phone who were planning on joining us there. The three of us set up camp at the corner of the bar, ordered drinks, Ashley ran off to dance when the DJ played her favorite song. I hung out with Josie, although conversation was all but impossible with the noise there. I went outside at one point to check phone messages, and there walking up the sidewalk was an easily readable t-girl, dressed in pretty ordinary jeans and top, and walking with a rather masculine gait. I watched her thinking I could catch her eye, but she passed the club without looking at me or anyone standing around outside. She paused and looked back over her shoulder, and around the corner came a guy in a suit. They made eye contact, and continued on up the street in formation. Hmm, sex work, I suppose. Back inside, I ran into (f)Emily near the front door and she ran to me and threw her arms around me. Startled, I stepped backwards, banging my head against a door frame or something. Then she was gone. Sheesh. Plopped back down next to Josie, I spotted Sarah, the girl I had danced with last time I was here! She came over and said hi and introduced me to the friend she was with and talked for a bit. I was starting to feel like I belonged. A little later I was on the dance floor and a girl came and said hello and that she knew me from Gender Crash. Crap, I walk around in such a daze. I didn't recognize her at all. Anyway, her name was Lindsey. We danced a little bit, I think, and then another came and wanted to dance. Very cute, very young. Omg, how does this happen to me? I asked her name. Cindy. And I tried to be polite and let her drift away to dance with others. Nope, she liked me. We danced a bunch more. She liked pretty suggestive dancing too, so we were grinding a bit, touching a bit. I was being all self-conscious about what I might feel like to her. I'm a guy dancing with a girl in a lesbian club. Lump in pants? Nope, not there, even with the grinding. Sorry, just doesn't happen with me on the dance floor at age 46. But my hands and fingers though, surely were unmistakably masculine. Testosterone and dancing had to have my muscles feeling very firm. I was trying to have a soft touch, but not sure how well I was doing at it. I was holding her hips, her waist, her hands, touching her collar bone. I'm really afraid my touch felt like a guy's touch. While dancing, I also spotted Lisa, TS Lisa that I first met at Laura's party. We exchanged waves and smiles but that was all. I was a little busy dancing with Cindy, but also Lisa looked like she was looking for dance partners, and I imagined she wasn't looking for someone like me. Am I too humble? She's young, pretty, a TS on hormones, and at a lesbian dance club, apparently by herself. I really doubt her first pick of dance partners would be someone like me. I was kind of afraid of approaching her, for a few reasons, I guess. Sure, I didn't want to interfere with her plans for the evening, but I especially didn't want to out her, or make her easier to read just by standing next to her. Well, those were my excuses. Truth is, I've always been shy to the point of intimidation by young pretty girls. I was when I was young and growing up as a boy, I still was when I was a middle aged man, and I'm afraid I still kind of have that reaction. Two of the four people that Ashley talked to on the phone showed up. They were a Stephanie from out of town, and FAB Natasha, who had just done Stephanie's makeover. Stephanie looked a bit familiar but I was assured that was impossible. Natasha looked a bit familiar and I learned I had most likely seen her at First Event. I was shocked the next day to look at the photobucket pictures of Stephanie from the night before. Her makeup looked absolutely awful in photographs. It looked hideously too light, and full of plain-as-day application streaks. I'm just positive that it didn't look anything like that in real life. In real life, I thought the makeup looked beautiful, exactly what you would want from a professional makeover. Somehow the camera flash must have been particularly cruel to her. Gosh, if I were Natasha I would have been horrified. Saturday home doing housework. Sunday evening with Stacy and Jessica. Monday Daphne. Tuesday was something kind of new, my first night of the T Supper Club at Fenway Community Health. Now, I kind of have to mind my p's and q's here, because Fenway is really big on confidentiality, but I think I can talk in generalities. My goal in coming to this was to branch out and explore more of the trans community. I've been mostly raised by cross dressers over this last year. My social circle has mostly been GNO and then Sisters. Similar are FoRCC, FoFL, FoTriangles, TCNE, First Event. I've explored a number of other groups and events, at least to some extent, in search of diversity: Jacque's, Imperial Court, Boston Pride, Gender Crash, MTPC, Boston FTMSOFFA, Mad Fem Pride. I've found some diversity in some of the online groups I've participated in: TSonHormones, TSVoice, Mikes's TG Planet. What else is there? Surely I've only touched the tail and the ear of the TG elephant. What is the rest like? So anyway, the T Supper Club certainly proved to be a different part of the elephant than any part I already knew. With only ten or so of us there, it's far from representative of the whole elephant, but I think the people there are going to prove a fascinating mix. A few of them I knew already. Pretty sure I'm going to be really glad I signed up for this. One thing I found frustrating to the point where I acted a bit childish. Alex had us talk for the first hour, and then eat. The problem was, some of us were hungry! See, though we may act like little girls, we've got big boy appetities. It was maddening to have the food sitting there and not be able to dig in. We did introductions and those were allowed to drag on and fill up the entire hour! I kept thinking that if people would just stop talking, we would be allowed to eat. But no, they would drone on with their stories, then ask each other questions, and inside I would groan, "nooo, don't encourage her to talk more!" *sigh* So, ok, my head was totally in the wrong place. I should have been listening intently to these stories to get to know my new dinner friends for the next six Tuesday nights. Instead, I'm afraid I was a very poor listener. Worst of all was when a straggler showed up after this hour of introductions, just when it was time to eat. "oh, no way, I thought, should she be allowed to eat without suffering through these introductions like the rest of us." *sigh* But no, Alex was gracious and the latecomer stayed. My bad attitude carried over to the feedback sheet. I'm afraid my answers were snippy and sarcastic. Oh well, have to make up for it next week :) Wednesday and Thursday I remember I moped around wanting Daphne to invite me to spend the night. It didn't happen. Friday was a milestone night. Trina from Arizona was coming to see me, go to Sisters with me, and spend the night. I can't resist retelling the story of Trina here. It was the last week in July last year. Two weeks earlier I had been to GNO for the first time. I went with Jessica, and while we arrived just about the time the party was breaking up to go into Boston, I had seen the cross dressers from across the bar, talked with Krys Ann, and was now crazy curious about cross dressing. I was at GNO this night on my own, early this time, to have time to actually talk with the cross dressers and figure out if they were crazy or like normal people or what. This night when my mission was to meet some real live cross dressers, Trina was in Boston on business and looking for fellow CDs to hang out with and perhaps show her how they have fun in Boston. Trina and I then, being both eager and unfamiliar with the GNO routine, were at the hotel bar long before anyone else. I um...(sorry Trina!)...read her pretty easily and sat down next to her to strike up a conversation. This alone time gave us a chance to trade stories and get to know each other a little bit. This had to be a huge help for me to have the ice already be broken by the time others began arriving. I'd love to know what her initial take on me was. I really think that she read me as TS at first glance. Anyway, over the course of the night, she put one of her bracelets on me, used female pronouns on me, and basically gave me my first rush of gender euphoria. By the end of the night, my fate was sealed. I was going to be a girl. Over the next *week*, I did everything: bought my first makeup, wig, purse, heels, outfit, jewelry, and picked a name. Trina was instrumental not only in transforming me that Friday night in July, but also in providing emotional support during this frenzied week. After my first attempt at shopping for an outfit ended in total failure, with me unable to imagine myself in anything, and therefore paralyzed from even trying anything on, Trina's advice (by email from Arizona now) was "Oh, just go buy a black skirt!" "Right, right" I thought, my panic dissipating, "just go buy a black skirt." And I did. I went back out the next night, tried shopping again, and with the panic gone, was able try on a number of things, and pick out a complete outfit--yes, that included a black skirt. The rest is history, mostly preserved in my journal here on the internet. Here, over a year later, Trina was finally getting to meet me as Sonia for the first time. The night was wonderful and magical, just perfect. I was most happy that Trina got a rich sample of my world. She called on the cell phone when she was a few blocks away and I ran to the end of the street to meet her. I recognized the car from her description and held out my arms in "come hug me" position to get her to stop. She said later her first thought was, "what is that pretty girl doing on the side of the street doing?" just before realizing, "oh that's Sonia!" We drove two block to the metered parking lot, walked back to my place to change, walked to the Square for dinner. I loved going out in public with Trina because she was right with me on choices of places to go. Of course she wanted to go to places that weren't hostile toward TGs, but she trusted me when I said we could go anywhere in Davis Square, and was happy to go to ordinary places. We ate at Antonnio's, the very nice Italian place that's right there in the square. I'd have to go back and read my journal, but I think I ate there once by myself as Sonia when I was very new. It would have been one of my early experiments in acceptance. I vaguely remembered that it went well so I thought that the place was a good choice. Another choice I offered was (La Spina) where, I explained, the manager knew me and would be happy to see me. Trina didn't come right out and say it, but I think she was thinking it would be more interesting to go to a place without such a crutch of predetermined acceptance. Of course we were accepted, and dinner was wonderful. At Sisters, Trina was amazing with her instant rapport with girls. She talked at length with Danielle (satin blouse Danielle) and came away with amazing stories. She talked with Steffi and came away with very personal information that I don't think Steffi had even told me. Everybody loved her. I was so happy and proud to be there with her. Ah, it's unrelated to this story of Trina, but while I'm at Sisters, I have to note that Deedee looked really really good that night. Great colors in her clothes, good makeup, a happy smile. Ah, but she's in love... Anyway, Trina and I opted out of dancing with the girls and we headed back toward my place. Actually to the Alewife garage and then on the subway one stop to Davis Square. Trina has wanted the experience of riding the subway, so this was cool to give her just a little taste of it. Nothing scary, as it was the last train and I think we had the car to ourselves, but still, part of the experience of Sonia's world. Trina also wanted one more drink before going home. She first had in mind a bar with a pool table, but I didn't know how to deliver that off of the top of my head, and I don't play pool much anyway, so we settled on a Davis Square Bar. Again following the principle of going to places without guaranteed acceptance, we went to Orleans. I explained that I had been there just a few times but was no regular, that it was a fairly classy place with a fairly young crowd. Well it turned out to be not quite the unknown I promised. I think the bouncer recognized me and waved us right in, as he was checking IDs for other people. The bartender recognized me for sure, welcoming me with a big smile, and a "hey! how are you?" Oops, I guess people remember me. Anyway, Trina needed to pee. I reassured her that she was welcome to use the ladies room, sent her off in that direction, and got us drinks from the bar. We sat and sipped and people watched the crowd of college kids and again, it was another perfect little slice of Sonia's world. Home finally, we made good on promises we had been making each other for over a year, and then slept really really well. The next morning I wanted breakfast before sending Trina off. We walked out the door before choosing a destination and I started enumerating choices. "Just up the street is a quaint, almost girly, little breakfast cafe..." "Perfect" Trina said, "I don't need to hear the other choices." And perfect it was. She was struck by how "New England" Renee's was. A little independent mom and pop type place, with local art on the walls, a worn wooden floor and so on. She had gone in the place saying that she really wasn't a breakfast person, and ended up ordering a big wonderful breakfast and then carrying on about how good each little part of it was. I escorted her on the T back to the Alewife lot, we picked up her car and she dropped me off at my house, and we kissed good bye. Omg, what a great visit. Saturday the plan was going to the FoRCC roll call party with Daphne. I met her at South Station when she got off work at 3:00, we went back to her place. We got to RCC at 11:15. I was pretty frustrated, but couldn't complain because I hadn't communicated my wishes to her plainly enough. What I should have said is that I really hoped to get there *early* so as to have lots of time to seek out and get to know better some of my CD "aunts and grandparents"--girls that are like a generation or two ahead of me in CD time. You know what I mean? You start going out as a new CD and you're like a teenager. Wild and exuberant and daring and exploring and testing limits. You do that for a period--a year or two, I think, and then you move out of adolescence into your CD "young adulthood" you've got some social skills now, you've mastered your look and your personality, you might even have a reputation(!), but you probably haven't quite found your place in the world. You might drift away from your first social circles, find new ones, you might go back to your roots. Then, if you're lucky, you settle down in whatever part of the TG landscape feels best to you. Some of these girls were at RCC, and most of them I don't know very well yet. Me, I'm kind of graduating from my teenage phase, I think, and looking for new horizons. I'd love to listen to wisdom of some of my elders at this point. *sigh* So, 11:15 didn't leave enough time for that. Vonnie was wonderful to me, as she has been. I had a nice time talking with Paula. She was so happy to realize that it was Daphne and I that were dating. Diana, I stood and listened to her tell one story, and I gave her a hug goodnight when she left. That's all :( I really wanted to hang around her more. Junie, I embarrassed myself in front of. It's only been like four times that I've met her now, so I was pretty sure I knew who she was, but it was late, I'd had a couple of drinks, and I blurted out, "who are you?" "I'm June Casad", she said in a very sincere voice and looking into my blurry eyes. *sigh* I think she knew I was struggling. Lace? I still don't know who that is. I hear she was there. *sigh* Still just a name to me. Crap, crap, I'm still so bad at meeting people and getting to know them. Oh, one girl I really liked meeting was Denise, but I just met her at the end of the night and was drunk and just got an introduction and a picture with her. I wish I knew how to contact her now. She looked so advanced in transition. Really, I can't imagine her passing as a guy. I liked seeing Amy Avalon there. I'd been thinking about her just recently. And then I didn't get to talk to her except to say hello goodbye. I love her because so far, while I've been in my "teens" I've thought of her as being in the generation just ahead of me and I've looked up to her. She's past her teens, and into that more sober phase of finding her place in the world. How do I know? Well, people tell stories of how she was just like me, going out every week, going dancing, and then she started appearing at fewer CD events. That when she did, she would show up with unshaved legs sometimes. I know I've seen her lots of different ways, from looking very finished and perfect, to...male mode! I've heard her talk about how she's considered FFS, and thought hard about where she was and where she wanted to go next. Very cool stuff, and always, I've thought, facing just the sorts of issues that I'll be facing myself before long. How did she look Saturday? In a very short and very flirty black skirt that was tiered and lacy. Like, how fun for a Saturday night with the girls? Hmm, what else? Wendy and Natasha both bought me drinks. I talked with Terri for a bit. There was a Diane there that was a good friend of Terri's. I said hello to Dahlia, Janelle, Winnie, Mellisa, Nadia. Talked with Wendy, Erica, Danielle. Saw Dina leave looking very drunk. Ashley didn't show up. Omg, not fair...I know there were lots of other girls I talked to but forgot to mention here. Sunday with Daphne was about as lazy as a day gets. We napped, ate, napped, ate, and basically did nothing. It was nice. The weekend with Daphne was nice, but sadly with too much tension. Daphne and I both have money problems, roommate problems, and health problems. Both of us are kind of sick with worry about problems that we're not dealing with well. Both of us are kind of wondering about our relationship together. With all that though, it was nice. It was a weekend together.

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Oooh, muscles

September 1st, 2007 10:24 pm MDT

Saturday August 4, the fun wild and crazy event was going to watch Tony wrestle. That's right, he was wrestling at a live event at a sports bar. The bar was Good Times Emporium, in Somerville, which is kind of a combination giant sports bar, arcade, and dance club. They had converted the dance floor to a wrestling ring for this, and the wrestling is the fun sort of wrestling, a la WWF (or All Star Wrestling, if anyone remembers that.... Ok, so I googled it. I guess it's WWE these days?) Anyway, Ashley had posted that she was going with Jacinda but that because of the environment, this would be a "male-mode event"--her words. Well, Ashley, you just excluded full time girls like me. Independent Sonia doesn't mind a bit though. Tony had personally invited me, so I was going. I didn't tell Ashley or anyone else that I was going, I just went. I had told Tony back when he invited me that I would go, but hadn't talked to him since, and so he was actually surprised when I showed up. Of his entourage, One of his lady friends had arrived before me and was inside taking pictures. He was expecting four others, not counting me! I talked to Tony while we waited for others to arrive and when two lady friends he was expecting arrived, we went in and found four chairs together. Ashley and Jacinda arrived a little later, as Rob and Johnny of course, and poor things, by then there were no more seats around us. They went and found seats on the other side of the ring, so it ended up that there was a boy's side and a girl's side. I loved being one of the girls. And I loved the wrestling! This was my first time ever to see live wrestling and so it was exciting and fun. Not knowing the wrestlers, I would pick who I wanted to win based on the silliest little things, like the color of their shorts or something, and then cheer for them and boo for the opponent. The girls around me got a kick out of how I was getting into it. "Are you sure this is your first time?" they teased. Detail gets spotty here. This is what happens when I just make a few quick notes and then let too much time pass before writing. Sunday was shopping with Rachel, then a sleepover with Daphne. Monday was dinner with Sheila, then drinking at Charlie's Kitchen. The guy on the stool next to me was highly entertaining. We sat and drank for five hours and I'm pretty sure that I passed for him the whole time. The more we drank, the more beautiful I became and I'm sure it was comical by the end of the night. He loved my hair, and wanted to know if the streaks were natural. "Honey, streaks like this are never natural" This fascinated and intrigued him. "Oh, which is your natural color?" he wanted to know. "The darkest color you see there" I answered honestly. Oh, my. lol. Tuesday was one more coming out step, and one I didn't handle so well, actually. At work we had a teleconference with people, from around the world really. And I didn't think about the fact that these people hadn't seen me as Sonia yet. I should have made a point to be there at the start of the teleconference to be present for introductions and so have an appropriate time to introduce myself as Sonia to these people who have known me for years as a guy. Instead, I wandered in late and it wasn't until the end of the meeting when the guy running the meeting (from Hawaii) asked my supervisor, "who is that sitting next to you?" After work, my bar was Cantab, on the recommendation of the guy I flirted with last night in Charlie's. He said he was more of a regular at Cantab so I thought it would be fun to just show up there and see if I ran into him. Food, drink, and music were good, but no Jeffery. Wednesday I went to Sisters of Worcester. Ashley had said earlier that she might go, so I thought it would be fun if we got a whole group of Sisters of Boston to go to Worcester. I made a silly post recruiting people for an "invasion" but in the end, Ashley couldn't go and I ended up not getting much support. I did get Stacy and Jessica to come with me, so I had a small invasion force, but it wasn't what I'd hoped. Of course it was lots of fun anyway. There was a good crowd there and in just a few months time, Sisters of Worcester has matured to become very much like Sisters of Boston. Thursday I was back drinking at Charlie's, this time with a little sadness as I was planning to curtail my drinking after this. I was seeing the doctor the next day for a routine physical and I was planning on pledging to stop drinking. Friday morning was the doctor's visit. I was seeing the now famous Deborah Breshel for the first time. Deb had actually come to Sisters of Boston a few months back and I had met her then, learned that she was in Somerville, right by my house, and accepting new patients. Since then I had run into her at MTPC meetings, and also a couple of times just around Davis Square, so she knew me--she just didn't know that she had an appointment with me this morning. Health insurance is of course still in my male name, so that's what I had used to make my appointment. The morning of the appointment, I filled out the new patient forms, hoping that there would be a place for a "preferred name" in addition to a billing, insurance, or legal name. But no, the surprise had to wait until Deb walked into the exam room and found me instead a male new patient. After the fun little surprise we had a good visit. At the end of the visit she asked if knew there would be a story about her this weekend in the Boston Globe. I didn't. Wow, what a surprise for me! I couldn't believe my fortunate timing that I got my initial visit in just before she was to become famous. Friday evening was Sisters and after the usual nice time at the hotel, things got wild crazy fun. Ashley asked people where they wanted to go after the hotel, and then declared that we were going to...someplace, I don't remember where, but it was a straight club. Steffanie threw a little tantrum at this. She wasn't comfortable at any straight club and said that she was going home instead. Ashley reconsidered and the next choice was Pure, a lesbian club. This turned out to be a perfect choice that made everyone happy. The club was lots of fun, there was dancing, girls, and queerness. One fun surprise was seeing some of the MFP girls there that I had met at the picnic. Coincidentally, I had worn my big floral print dress this night. It was popular at Sisters because apparently not many of them had seen that dress, but then it was wildly popular at Pure. Some girls had to compliment me on it, saying it was "brilliant" asking where I got it. Here, I messed up, I'm afraid. It actually came from the Goodwill Store, but I was too embarrassed to admit it. After repeatedly refusing to say where I got it, I finally said it was vintage, and they were happy with that. My gosh, I know there's no shame in shopping at the Goodwill Store. I just, don't know what came over me. I wish now that I had not only freely told them where it came from, but that I asked them exactly what they meant by "brilliant." Maybe they liked it just because it was so feminine? Because it had so much motion on the dance floor? Because it covered my silicone assets so well? I dunno. After the dance club closed, I did something a little different and went with the girls to Bickfords. I hadn't done this since my first time out last August. I got to see how Ashley's group was a regular there, and also got to see a group of guys get thrown out of the restaurant for making rude remarks about us. The waitress was wonderfully protective of us! Dina had promised to give me a ride home after Bickfords, but it was so late and she was getting so tired that she invited me to just come to her place. I went, and wow was it nice. Dina's beautiful, and has wonderful style and makeup skills, and one of my favorite parts of her is her soft girl skin. She uses a rotary epilator and I think maybe it does the trick. The next day, I processed asteroid data from Dina's bedroom computer and we took our time getting cleaned up and ready to go back out in the evening. We met Danielle and went to Lauren for din