Stereotypical post after long break

So yeah, I'm still alive and still posting

Queue excuses for why I haven't posted in about a month.

My computer died for about 3 weeks, and I had to replace the fan, heatsink and thermal paste on the cpu. Due to her death and rebirth her name is now Lazarus. And I repaired her all by myself too, which made me feel like a big grown up girl. Go me.

Finals week was also hectic (not really I only had three exams) but I'll go ahead and keep saying it was. Got a 3.05 this quarter though so I guess it went decently, and got around my goal GPA for each quarter which is a 3.0 or above.

I've also spent all my time this break playing mass effect 3 and Skyrim, and hanging out with my roommates on my roof, which is sort of a quintessential way to spend spring break in my humble opinion.

(Seriously, who doesn't want to kill alien invaders as a bad ass starship captain?) 

But yeah really the only reason I haven't posted in a month is because I'm a lazy fuck. You're going to have to deal with that. You know, I have to deal with my lazy fuckery on a daily basis you know. How do you think that makes me feel? It's not all about you. God. (It's obviously all about me)

Joke.

Anyway. News.

So I just got my fourth month of hormones. Shits chugging along quite nicely. My body is definately still going through some pretty radical changes, my chest and ass are getting bigger, and I seem more slim (Although that may be more from malnutrition because I'm a poor-ass college student) My face also seems to be changing more, but that's more of my face looks different from 3 months ago, rather than my face looks different from last week.

I suppose that I'll be going full time next week (I sort of have already?), which is kind of a big thing

I mean the only change is that I'll be dressing to go to class and work the same way I want to dress when I'm hanging out around the house, or going the various queer meetings I go to.

I mean it's weird because when I say I'm going full time that doesn't necessarily mean what I think a lot of people thinks it means. I'm still going to be behaving the same goofy way I always do, it's just I'll have make-up on and hopefully strangers will get my pronouns right, and not ask me what my "real name" is (It's fucking Natalie. My name is Natalie, Nat, Natty, Natattack, whatever the fuck you want to call me so long as it's at least tangentially related to my real fucking name: Natalie, okay?)

I sent emails to all my professors though, I'd figure I'd post it up on here (I had originally stole it from tumblr, and then modified it to suit my purposes) because the orginal template is really formal and well done. I've gotten emails back from all but one of my professors, and the responses have all been positive, especially in my RA training class, which is the big thing that needed to happen. If one of my engineering proffesors is a dick, then I can deal with that, but if my RA training instructors are going to discriminate against me, then we have problem, because that's affecting me getting a job.

But yeah.

I'm not really nervous. I mean I'm going to be nervous about particular things. Like are these shorts too short and showing off my manly ass legs and going to affect me passing. Will wearing this shirt get me hatecrimed because my shoulders are obviously too massive to fit in it, that sort of bullshit.

But viewing it as a whole I don't really see anything to be worried about. My campus is liberal as hell, and I don't know a single person on a first name basis who doesn't already know. I'm pretty out, which is pretty awesome.

Honestly I'm just excited for Heidi to get back to me after being away for an entire week (Egads!? A whole week!? How did you survive!? I bet you're asking yourself right now), and for class to start.

Other cools news. Our band Much Much More (You should like us facebook, there's a good chance that will cause world peace, and personal happiness in your life.) is doing 3 gigs in April so here's to a busy month! With luck I'll try to get some video of one so I can post it up here.  

So I was going to wax on rhapsodical about my life a bit more but this is already long as fuck. So here's a picture of myself from today.

(Yes, my room is janky as fuck. Yes that is a christmas wreathe, and my dresser is broken, and I only have one curtain. This is why my life is awesome.)

Have a lovely day.

A little post.

So sometimes I really need bitch.

Okay. Let's be honest. I bitch about things ALOT.

(I can't help myself. It gets me everytime)

But sometimes its nice to look at the positives.

And my life is super awesome right now.

I'm on hormones and transitioning to who I want to be. Changes are becoming apparent. I get to dress up the way I want to.

I have a great group of friends who I hang out with.

A community that accepts me.

A girlfriend who I'm madly crazy in love with, whose in love with me.

I'm in line to have a dream job for the next few years, and provided I get it I won't have to worry about money until I graduate. 

I'm going to school for something I love, taking classes I enjoy.

I live in a sweet house with great roommates.

I'm in a fucking band, making money, for making music. And loving every minute.

Life is fucking awesome.

When I first came out, and the months after, while still at military school, and a lot of the summer afterwards I was in a really terrible place. I didn't' think things would improve.

I'd be pleased to see myself now.

I wish I could go back and tell me life's gonna be great, just hang in there.

Because I didn't have too much in the way of hope.

Because now life is fantastic.

That is all.

Third Month of hormones

Woot, just got my third months worth of hormones.

Always a good feeling.

So I'm working to help start a transgender advocacy group on campus because there really isn't anywhere for us to go, aside from the local support group but that has limits on what it can lobby for out of the virtue of protecting people's confidentiality

Shits been busy and rocky, but we're slowly getting moving.

Who knew starting a group to advocate for the needs and desires of an entire section of a community would be hard?

I mean it will get off the ground. Or I'm gonna die trying. The big problem that I can see happening is that I push for a bunch of shit to happen and people get excited, but without anyone saying hey these things need done a lot of people will lose interest.

It's just a game of building momentum right now.

Anyway, these next two weeks should be fun.

I am fucking broke as shit. Like I'm gonna have about 10 dollars to my name after bills and other expenses until I get paid next in two weeks. I guess there's just going to be a lot of skyrim going on instead of going out.

(Where I basically just run around yelling FUCK YOU and catching butterflies)

It's not too bad, I have food, and my bills will be paid. But nothing extra is happening. I need it to be next quarter so I can get my student loans and be able to have money once again. It'd be nice.

In other news in my life. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I'm the baritone ukulele player of a three person ukulele band in Athens Ohio, so if you're ever around you should check us out. We're called Much Much More and we're sort of a big deal. Here's our band page. On facebook. Like us and all of your hopes and dreams will come true. http://www.facebook.com/pages/Much-Much-More/337188362981870

ALSO

I'm really fucking ridiculously super excited because my girlfriend asked me out to queer prom a while back and it's happening the weekend after next! She's letting me borrow this beautiful black dress from her high school prom and she's gonna wear a girly suit and we're going to be adorable and gay and pretty and asdfl;khasdfkjasd

I'm just really excited.

Post Anarchy / The interview

So this one post every two weeks thing is dumb.

So is once a week.

The thing is, my life doesn't happen in nice manageable chunks like that. So I'm just gonna update whenever.

Fuck the man.

(Shamelessly stolen from this chick I know's tumblr, also foxes are adorable)

Anyway.

So here's the thing that's been dominating my thoughts the past few days.

Job Interview.

Here's the deal.

I'm fucking poor.

I go to school full time, which thankfully is covered by my Dad working for the university. But as far as paying for bills rent, and food I'm on my own, and I'm getting loans out the ass for that. But loans aren't much. They cover my rent, and some transition cost, which are important things. Food and utilities are covered by my ten hour a week minimum wage job, which is actually only a five hour a week minimum wage job because my house got cut. I don't have much money left over.

And to be honest I don't much care for being fucking poor.

But here's the thing. Resident Assistants get a pretty much free dorm room, as well as a grand a semester. What's more is that there's special populations, like international students, or substance free, or in my case, gender neutral housing, which is pretty much designed for trans* people.  The job description fits me pretty damn well.

This sounds like a awesome job that I could do, and do well.

And I wouldn't be as poor. I'd have much more money that I could spend on transitioning, and buying pretty things. (Although I hate to sound stereotypical I would love some bitching shoes. Which are expensive, especially for a size 13 womens.)

So I'd get an extra two grand a year, and the 3.5 grand I'm already getting in student loans would be mine to keep. While I would be making payments on various bullshit (Phone bill from at&t that I got with army money, I'm looking at you), as well as paying back my parents for various stuff, I'd be able to keep a pretty hefty sum of that and possibly even begin saving up for some surgeries.

So basically I could be financially secure, and afford nice things until I graduate and then I'll have a pretty engineering degree which will see me through having a job and being financially secure after graduation. (Thank the flying spaghetti monster the field I'm in love with actually has job prospects, unlike say, english, or theatre).

So yeah this would basically be a dream job for the next two years. So I sent in an application with some recommendations.

And I applied as a girl. (sort of)

I had to put my legal name and everything, but I put my preferred name next to it, and put female as the gender marker (Hey, they asked for gender).  I made it pretty explicitly clear that I am trans* in the application too, which should be okay, since gender identity is on my university's non-discrimination policy. (Which, as most people should know doesn't mean discrimination doesn't actually happen)

And surprisingly/awesomely enough, I got an interview.

Fuck yes.

Now in the past, I've interviewed pretty well. I've never gone into an interview and not gotten a job, although I've only done like 3. I'm pretty well-spoken if I do say so myself. (Although it doesn't hurt that I'm a better bullshitter, for the most part.)

But this is different. I was always really good at going in, and being the stereotypical all-american boy with a strong handshake and abusing the fuck out of my privilege to earn a job. This is how I got my prestigious four-year paid army scholarship (in addition to being decent at standardized like the ACT which I got a 31 or 32  on.)

I couldn't necessarily do that for this interview.

I know I'm definitely going to be full time presenting female by next school year regardless of whether or not I get this job, because at the rate I'm going my body on hormones won't let me do anything else (As well as the incredible mental relief that will bring). So I'd much rather be presenting female from the get go. Which is what I did.

Can I just say that I was nervous as fuck going into that interview?

The day before it really hit me that this was the route I chose, and I needed to figure out a semi-formal outfit to go into the interview. I was wigging the fuck out running around my room desperately trying to figure out what to wea, should I wear a sports bra and look like I don't actually have any boobs (sports bras are ridiculously comfy and at the moment make my chest still appear relatively flat), or should I wear a real big-girl bra, which will make it very obvious? Should I wear eyeliner? How about mascara? Shit I still have redness from laser the other day (Still hurt like hell) Is cover-up going to take care of that.

I was a fucking mess.

So I got my shit together, whined to my girlfriend for a little while via text (She's away at MBLGTACC a big LGBT conference in Iowa this weekend.) and figured everything out. Still nervous though. I half suspected walking in and them just being like "Why does this dude have eyeliner on and boobs?"

So interview came around, I walked in told them I was Nat (last name) (I usually go by Nat instead of Natalie in day to day, because it's shorter and won't immediately out me if I don't want to be outed) and did the interview.

And I think it went pretty well. I answered questions pretty decently, and explicitly mentioned I was trans* a few times, in regards to diversity and creating safe spaces, and the two interviewers were really nice.

But I don't find out for another week or two if I made it to the next round of the application process (A one quarter long class, which I'm pretty sure I will rock the shit out of)

So yeah. We'll see. It sounds almost too good, so something will get fucked up and it won't work out knowing my luck.

Here's a picture of me in my room after my interview.

(I really should figure out a way to take pictures on something other than my webcam.)

On an unrelated note I'm thinking about dying my hair the blackish/blue it was before it faded away. Right now it's pretty much my natural color, which is boring, but I don't really have any money to burn on hair dye right now either.

More updates when I feel like it (Hopefully shorter ones)

Week Seven

So this post is really late. I've been busy. My bad. (It seems to me like about half these post are going to end up with me starting with apologizing for being late. Perhaps I should just stop giving a shit and update whenever)

Oh well

My life more and more seems like a cheesy coming of age movie. It's developing in ways that I would have never expected to, and instead of the gorgeous Zach Braff as the protagonist it's my trans* ass.

(With feel-good indie pop constantly playing in the background)

For instance. People come over to my house and hangout on a regular basis. Me and my roommate actually host get-togethers where everyone gets really fucked up and plays video-games. Or goes down to the club. Or just hangs out.

And then we wake up in the morning and drink coffee, maybe make some breakfast.

It's glorious.

It's unexpected though. I was always this little nerdy kid who would play elder scrolls games in her room for hours on end. Now people come in and out of my house, we enjoy each other's company. People crash on my couch. I'm actually being social. Voluntarily! Crazy!

It's weird. And I get to wake up next to my gorgeous girlfriend most mornings.

I've started a three ukulele band with a few friends named Much Much More (Yes this will probably be the most hipster thing I've ever done with my life.)

It's almost like I'm growing up a bit. I'm not as much of a kid anymore, hiding in my parent's basement, emerging only at midnight to feast on peanut butter and jelly.

It's like I'm almost a for-realsies adult, leading my own life, doing the things that I enjoy. It's a good feeling.

But anyways.

Trans-stuff.

Next week marks my second month of HRT. Go me.

Also, more body changes are happening, and much faster than I anticipated. I'm actually starting to grow boobs now instead of just having these nasty little headlights poking out of shirt. I mean don't get me wrong, they're not exactly developed, and I doubt that I would fit even the smallest cup size. But I do need to wear a sports bra pretty much all the time now. And it feels pretty awesome. And is really exciting.

Oh and I got my laser appointment this past Wednesday.

(Pew pew)

It hurt like fucking hell.

If you were to google to see if laser hurts you're probably going to read something along the lines of "It feels like someone snapping a rubber band on your face."

Let me tell you something.

That's fucking bullshit.

Laser was probably the most painful thing I've ever experienced in my life. And considering the things I've done to my body that's not a meaningless statement. I've got a scar on my right eyebrow from a staff sergeant kicking a fucking door into my face (funny story that) and subsequently getting 4-5 stitches. I used to do parkour and fall and hurt myself A LOT, and have more than a few scars from that. I've no less than 5 3rd degree burn scars on my body that will be with me for the rest of my life.

And while your experience may vary, none of that was up to par with getting laser done on my face.

I didn't have any anesthetic or numbing creme, maybe that would change things. And the lady doing it said the first time was going to be the worst because the hairs were the thickest.

But. FUCK.

The best analogy I can draw is someone heating up a needle strong enough to give you a second or third degree burns and then sticking it in your face repeatedly at a steady beat for 10 minutes, with it never cooling down.

Holy shit.

When I actually saw smoke from my facial hair being literally burned away, I had to just closed my eyes and just suffered in silence, til it was done, taking occasional breaks when it got a bit too intense.

It might be that hormones are affecting the way that I feel pain. It's just that, I've always been able to sort of grunt my way through any sort of pain. Finally it goes away I yell profanities for a few minutes and then I'm good to go.

Not this.

I literally just cried for about 20 minutes after I was done. I cried harder than I've ever cried for any sort of physical pain. I finally composed myself, payed my 200 bones to the doctor, left, found a bathroom (Thank the flying spaghetti monster for gender neutral, 1 stall, bathrooms) and then cried for another half-hour. Just weeping from the pain. I've never felt anything so intense. 

It. Fucking. sucked.

It doesn't help that your face has a metric shitton of nerve endings, especially around the lips (where there is a lot of fucking hair for me).

As far as effects, the doc said that it should take about 4 sessions and I should see a 80% or so reduction in permanent hair, which should rid me of my dreaded beard shadow, as well as the need to shave daily,. My hair is definately thinner on my face, and I definately see improvements. My face was red as hell afterwards, and felt like it was sunburned to hell, and it seems likely that it's causing me to break-out with acne right now, but that should go away.

Also another thing to mention right quick. I was under the impression that I would go in, they'd zap me, and my hair would be gone by the end of the appointment, burned away to oblivion.

That's actually not what happens. They zap the fuck out of the hair follicles and then the hair gradually falls out half a week to a week later. Which sucked because I wasn't able to shave until about a day after I had it done, and had already been growing the hair for a day or two prior, so the laser specialist would actually have something to zap. So I got to walk around feeling dysphoric as fuck from my facial hair for about half a week. Just something to mention I suppose.

So yeah, laser. I've got my next appointment next month, provided the salvation army actually fucking pays me so I can afford it (Don't get me started).

On a slightly different note one of my good friends (whose actually dating my roommate, also trans*) just came out as transgender (ftm), which is super super exciting for him. It's always fun to know people like yourself I suppose, but also it's such a big step for him to be going by different pronouns and whatnot. Luckily our circle of friends is really affirming, and have been really good about pronouns (for me and him).

(Though my lovely girlfriend played a pretty huge role in getting my friends to switch to using she for me, since I always feel awkward asking people to use my preferred pronouns.)

The really funny thing is that prior to coming out as a guy he was what one would consider a super-dyke lesbian. Like unicorns eating glitter and shitting rainbows sort of gay. Fabulous, one might say.

(Fair approximation)

But since he came out as guy he started dating one of my roommates (also male), so ironically enough, he's still got the gay albeit in a different direction.

Go Team Queer.

Anyway.

That's pretty much it for this week. It's not that I don't have more to talk about but I do sort of have real obligations. Like you know, School. This fucking differential equations class may kill me (although it would be nice if the teacher had a working grasp of the English language). The life of being an engineering major. Good thing I fucking love it, otherwise I'd probably end up killing myself.

Here's a picture of me from this past saturday before heading out to gay night at the local bar.

Cheers.

Blog Changes

So I've decided to make a sort of weekly post on Sundays or Mondays, just as sort of a stream on consciousness, "This is how transition is going, here are a few things on my mind" sort of thing. I figure this will help me out tremendously in keeping this blog updated because I'm awful at remembering to do things unless they are scheduled.

This part is intended as sort of a public diary, in order to catalog my transition in addition to random thoughts, or pieces I write on trans*and/or queer issues, as well as, thoughts on transitioning.

Because of that, I'm intending for these sorts of weekly updates to be written and published in a first draft sort of manner, rather than be subject to any sorts of revision, so I can get glimpses at my thought processes during transition.

Note: I've actually already been doing this, but this is sort of a public pledge to continue to do so for accountability reasons, as well as to sort of explain my process a bit.

Why I am Writing This Blog

Well let's be completely honest here first.

Narcissism

Complete unadulterated narcissism in concentrated form

Because I like me, in all my Tegan and Sara listening, androdgyny loving, my little pony watching, skinny jeans wearing, queer glory. So obviously you should like me too.

(Seriously. Drool.)

This blog is good way to fuel my narcissism by letting me journal things out. It not only strokes my ego having other people see it, but it also helps me consolidate my own thoughts, and allows me to look back and see that I've made progress, whether that progress is in terms of transition, personal or emotional progress, or even just developing my writing style.

Coming in a close second however is a reason that's a bit more altruistic though.

There isn't as much information about transitioning and transgender issues in general as there could be. I've been looking through so many resources, since I first realized I am trans* and a lot of the information that is online is outdated, geared towards different audiences than myself, blatantly trans-phobic, sexist, or reinforces a gender binary.

I am not an expert on transgender issues. But I think that given my background I can, at the very least, provide a semi-unique perspective, and add to that relatively small pool of relevant, positive information.

But probably more importantly. I am just starting my transition.

That gives me also gives me a relatively unique perspective, and something to write about that might help other trans people who are in my position now.

But my biggest long term hope for this blog (This will sound really cheesy) is this. I want trans* people just beginning their own transitions to be able to look at my blog and feel hopeful.

Times like while I still at the military school, after I had just gotten kicked out of my parents house, and all the other times that I've just felt really shitty due to dysphoria or other bad conditions I looked at a small library of transition pictures and videos I have saved on my computer and they gave me the feeling that where I'm at is temporary, and that things can better and being comfortable with myself is possible.

That's a feeling that can save a life.

And that's what I want for my blog. I am not a special snowflake. I do not have magic gender powers that will solve all my problems with dysphoria and gender-related depression. If I can transition, be as incredibly queer as I am, survive all the slurs and names, and get through the all really shitty parts and be able to come out of it all (where ever along the gender spectrum out of it all is for me, and the same relates to you) with a positive outlook on life, then there is no reason that you can't too.