SnowGirl's Blog

Monday, November 27, 2006

BRA~~~INS

So, this has been pretty much a zombie log so far, but I'll promise to actually post stuff, now.

Speaking of which: wow, snow in Seattle. Everyone is driving like 10 miles an hour, and roads that I've never seen backed up, are totally backed up. It's totally nuts.

Let's all say "YAY!" for passports! I just got my new passport today. Which is fortunate, because I'm traveling to Europe in December, and I was worried that I might not get my passport back in time.

I got a packet in the mail today regarding them turning my apartment into condos. *sigh* They expect over $200k for my 465 sq ft. apartment (funny, when I rented it, they told me that it was 414 sq ft...) Doing some short checking on mortgages, I would end up paying more than $1,200 per month just for the mortgage. All this so, like, what? I can't knock out any walls, I can't ADD a room... oh wait, I get to paint the walls anything that I want! Ok, so, now I would own 465 sq ft of "real" estate in downtown Bellevue that is actually located on the 3rd story, and about the 5th level if you count the two parking levels underneath (which are actually at ground level on one side.) So, not only do I own a tiny piece of property, but it's not even actually real property, it's just a piece of floor hovering above the earth. I'm sorry, this just doesn't make sense. I was already paying too much money here in the first place, and I really don't want to pay another $400 just to cover the mortgage, because I know that the dues are going to cost me a few hundred per month also.

Let's do some math. I have a friend, who lives in Bothell. If I were to move in with her, and pay half of the rent, it would be about $500 a month, but I would have to commute about 20~40 minutes everyday both ways. Ok, so, yes, gas is expensive, but... um... is it so expensive that it would excede $700? Let's assume the worst case possible, that gas gets up to $5/gallon. I would be able to afford some 140 gallons with that saved $700, and at let's say 15 mpg (just to give nice round worst case examples) That's 2100 miles, google maps says that it's just 1,774 miles from Albuquerque to Seattle. Basically, that says that I would have to drive to ALBUQUERQUE and BACK once a month in order to use up enough gas to make this situation worse. Google maps also says that it's about 10 miles from about where I work to about where I would live. I'd have to drive back and forth about 105 times a month to use up that much gas!

So, yes, I would be happy to move in with my friend, then both she and I can save money, and not pay retarded amounts of money just to live.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Church Group

So, I went to my church group again this week. Last week wasn't so fun, because we started talking about homosexuals, and naturally the topic then went on to transsexuality. The husband of the couple that runs the group, we'll call him S, he kept calling me "Daniel", and he was trying to interrupt me at one point, by saying "Daniel, Daniel, Dan-" and I just went off on him... I slammed the Bible down on the table, and pointed vigerously at him, and shouted, "Stop calling me Daniel!" Of course, his wife's first reaction was to comment later that that was a "very masculine response."

First of all, it's it so God damn hard to just call me by the name that I want to be known as? And to use gender pronouns that I expect? I mean, can you really love someone, and call them by a name that offends them? And, what's up with the "males own aggression thing?" It's like, what? Your mom never screamed at you, threw a book down, or pointed vigerously at you? Like, a male response would have been reverting my voice to "Daniel" and beating the shit out of him! Not effeminately waving my finger at him, and screaming out halfway to tears. Hah...

And then later, his wife says effectively that her choice doesn't matter, and she'll have to respect what her husband says. Like... WTF? How did I get to be more of a feminist my entire life than she is? Like, what? are you going to ask your husband who to vote for in the next elections? Do you ask your husband if you should believe in God, and Jesus? Why should you have to present a "unified front" about this? That's just pathetic to me... I expect that a Christian wife should allow her husband some allowance of the direction that they should go... but at the same time, if my future husband ever tells me "you need to believe XY", I'll tell him to shove it. :P FEMINIST UNITE! *laugh*

So... yes, today, the same guy S... I'm getting my name changed legally tomorrow, and so I'm like "I'd like to get some support about that, and I hope it goes well." And he's all "Well, I don't" then he tries to do that guy thing, where you butt fists together, saying something about "male honesty". Like... umm.. right...

Then, later he's calling me "he" while he's praying for me, and I'm just like *sigh*, so afterwards we sit down and talk some more after the other person left. And he's all, I don't try and hide my opinion on the matter, and I just won't call you "Cassondra" nor use "she". And he insists that he still despite respects me!

I'm like "??? I don't see how you can respect me and still call me something that I find offensive..." Seriously, someone explain that to me. And I told him, I know that there are different levels of respect that one can show someone, and I understand that you think you're trying to respect me... I'm just asking for something stupidly trivial of using my new name, and my desired gender. And I'm telling him it's all stupid arbitrary anyways, in German, I would say "The Chair, he's green."

God, I wonder if the Sun goes through a transsexual experience as people who speak Spanish (el sol, masculine) learn German (die Sonne, feminine). Seriously... people get too pent up about this, and "God made you a man." and it's like "Well, God made me a transsexual, too" umbs...

So... yeah... I wonder if there's cause for a finding of harrassment against someone for using a name that you find offensive. Anyways, it's late, and I'm tired, I'm going to finish this Soy Milk and hit the hay. Night all :)

Monday, July 31, 2006

Ich heiße Cassondra

So, I'm scheduled to change my name legally in two days. If I could have gotten up early enough to petition it before 10:30, then maybe could have done it today, but *sigh* you know how it is to get up in the morning and get somewhere before 10:30... you don't? Hm... well, maybe I could go to bed a bit earlier, so that I could get up earlier.

I haven't talked to Liz in awhile, I read her blog, and things are going for her. She has some good things going on, and some sucky things that are going on. I wish she'd talk to me, and let me be a true friend for her. :)

I went by the makeup counter yesterday (Mac, where else? Oh, Sally's Beauty Supply too, but Mac's makeup is still top quality) so, I walk up to the counter, and a girl there comes up to me, and she looks at me quizzingly, and is all "Is your name Cassy?" and I'm like "Yes, yes it is!" and she was all "Yeah, I met you once outside of Temple, with your friend." See? If you have pink hair, people recognize you. :)

Sunday, July 23, 2006

OMG IT'S HOT!

So, the thing that sucks about Seattle, is that normally it's so cool here that no one sees any need to buy A/C, really it would be a waste, one would use it but only 5 or 7 days a year. It's hardly worth the investment... usually. But then it gets up to 90 one day, and one just sizzles in ones own sweat. Ick... not sexy at all.

So, yesterday, it was crazy hot also, and Liz invited me over to go swimming at the pool at her apartment complex. It was really nice, we went out to the pool and kind of laid out in the sun for awhile (with PLENTY of sunscreen mind you! Remember, Pale is the new Tan!) then got into the pool. By the time the sun had gone down it cooled off nicely outside, and we later went to the hot tub, which was great, but then I'm the skinny bitch with no fat, and I like to be warm (not hot, like things are right now in my apartment, but warm).

Also, she lent me some swimwear to use, but none of it really fit me, what can I say? I'm a skinny bitch, we already know this. So, today I went by Fred Meyer's and bought some swimwear of my own, which will be known to fit. They were very cheap, just $7.99 a piece, and I got three pieces. One is a bikini bottom, but it has a cute little skirt around it, making it like a swimming sub-miniskirt, it's really cute. And the other two are two different tops. One is a plain bikini top which is great for "omg, I'm going to die in my apartment if I don't expose more skin," and the other is a cute top that's much more modest, which is important when one's breasts are breast forms, and not actually attached to one's body. Honestly, they really don't fit well.

I also went to the company picnic yesterday, which was unbearable because it was so hot. I was wearing only a tank top, and a jean miniskirt, and I sweeting so bad, and this doubly sucks for me, because while most women have to deal with breast sweat accumulating on the underside of their breasts, I unfortunately have to deal with breast sweat occuring underneath the entirety of my breast area. And then later in the car driving home, I took out my breast forms to wipe up the sweat (ick), and when I put them back on they were like 100 degrees hot or something, it was entirely uncomfortable.

I prefer Seattle in the cool weather, with the nice rain and the mists. I don't like this unbearable heat that presses upon you with a pressure so immense that you feel that you're ready to explode in a sudden burst of sweat like a water balloon.

Anyways, I shall be attempting to sleep now, if I can cool down enough to be comfortable enough to. *sigh* I need a boyfriend with A/C, so I can just go over to his place. *giggles* Eh... I should admit it to myself that my future boyfriend won't solve all my problems... of course, it's still nice to dream :)

Monday, June 26, 2006

Ah, Nature, You Cruel Bitch

Ok, so not only was nature a cruel bitch to put me in the wrong body to begin with, I'm going to relate to you an event in my past that just caused me even more frustration.

Sometime during my high school years, after my appendicitis, I noticed this intense change of temperature in the area of my right breast. It was very cold, and I just could not warm it up. It was very annoying and frustrating. Well, a few months go by, and I started developing a lump under my right nipple. So, my mother and I go to see the doctor.

"Well, sometimes young boys when they're going through puberty will somtimes develop a breast, or both breasts somewhat. It's completely normal, although many times awkward for them. Usually, if you see a puberty-age boy wearing a T-Shirt into the pool, that's why... Odd though, that you're getting it so late."

So, I'm totally psyched. I'M GROWING A BREAST. Maybe my other one will develop, too. God, what a wonderful world this is, where a boy who wants to be a girl can actually grow a real breast!

So, after a few days of joy, and being able to put on a swimsuit top and pretend that I actually had a real true breast, the thing turns a nasty icky color, and while visiting some friends, they freak out, and cause me to freak out, and I end up calling my mom, freaking out, so she schedules us to see the doctor.

When we get in, he was just like "oops, my bad, I guess that's not what it was. Rather in fact, you just have an infected sweat gland, very similar to a pimple. Just way bigger, and oddly positioned near your nipple." He then lanced it, and drained it, and pulled out the lining of the gland, which was essentially infected, and sick, so rather than risk a repeat infection, he just pulled it all out.

So, damn it! Stupid Nature, how could you be so mean? First you put me in the wrong body, then you make me have a medical situation that raises my hopes and makes me think that I'm actually going to get a freaking breast?! What kind of cruel bitch are you. I mean, there's cruel, and then there is just down-right CRUEL. I suppose that's easily one of the big indicators that should have tipped me off sooner. I mean, I was actually happy to be growing a breast. That's not a normal guy reaction. It was like having a medical doctor tell you that your life is going to be all right, and everything is going to turn out the way it should, and then POW! Nope, it's something else, and it sucks to be you.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Honesty, and the speed of transition

I had a horrible session with my therapist. I went home crying, and totally upset. I sent her an email, concerning this, and I'm posting it here, so that some other people may be able to gain some insight into the tortuous life I've been through, and why I'm taking my transition so quickly.

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I was very upset from our sessions, and I drove home crying. I'm upset, and was so upset because I didn't feel like you were hearing me.

I'm aware that you're concerned that I'm transitioning too quickly, but you must understand that there are many times extenuating circumstances that critically push a patient around normally considered and recommended treatment paths. When I had apendicitis, they sent me to the hospital for 18 hour observation, within two or three hours, they had determined that I was critically ill, and that my appendix had burst and they realized that 18 hours was too long. They went in, and found that I had very severe peritonitis, and that my digestive system had shut down.

If you want to know why I'm transitioning so quickly, then I will tell you. First, I've already been female for 4 to 5 years constantly online. I am already comfortable with my perception of myself as female. I eventually came out, and transitioned in the chat room that I share with most of my significant friends, and those other important friends that I have, I have also come out to.

I want you to understand that I am not just running away from my genetic gender, and my body, I'm running from who I was, whom I hated. I hated the person I was as Daniel, being a petty, nit-picky, pedantic asshole who had to argue every stupid point, and detail, and always considered myself right. To survive the conditions within which I was raised, I was forced to compartmentalize my emotions, throw everything away, left with cold hard stupid fact. Heartless. The only emotion I could not escape was depression, because it bubbled deep within me, swelling up and burst up on the surface. I was anti-depressants at the ripe-old age of 14 (possibly earlier). During my 5th grade year, I was moved out of mainstream education and placed in special education, because I was "fragile BD (behavior disordered)", because I would cry over seemingly meaningless things. I stayed there throughout middle school, and only returned to mainstream education in High School, where I later took an occational special education course just so that they could keep tabs on me.

When I made my decision, I was just coming out of the most depressive moment of my life. I could not function, I could not do anything but get online and present as female, and flirt with guys, and chat with girls. My apartment decended into a pigsty, literally collecting unopened mail, and papers strewn about, dirty clothes lying around, dishes sitting in the sink with rotting food on them, my garbage bin stacked enormously high, and precariously holding most of my trash, and the kitten's litterbox so full of feces, that they started relieving themselves on the tile floor just in front of the litter box. I masturbated multiple times a day, every day fantacising about being female during vaginal intercourse, since this was one of the few pleasurable things that I could do. And worst of all, at the time I saw my doctor to start my medication, I weighed just 115 pounds (lost 10 pounds, nearly a 10% of my body weightI since I had been so depressed that I could not physically muster the will to even eat.

My work was a depressive hell, of waking up at 10 (when I should be at work), struggling out of bed, lugging myself into work, to sit at my computer, and read the internet, chat with friends, and sleep. The only real work I did was my vain attempts to cover up my lack of productivity with lies and blame dodging.

Finally, I got on medication, and things started to improve some what, and I started being slightly productive at work again, and was able to pull myself up from a 1 or 2 out of 10, to a 3 or a 4. This continued for 3 or 4 weeks, at this quasi-better mood. Once I had made my realization that I needed to transition, and be female, my mood shot up to an 8. I cleaned up most of my apartment (I have so much crap in my apartment, and so little space, I don't think it's possible to clean it up fully) cleaned all my dishes, cleaned up my kitchen, starting showering nearly every day only skipping because I'd be late to work. I went from having to drag myself out of my bed with a crane, to getting up 2-ish hours early for work, so that I'd have enough time to get ready.

As I was just telling my mom, I almost *have* to wear my breast forms now, it feels incredibly wrong to not be wearing them, like taking off a prosthetic arm or leg, that you need in order to feel whole. I'm having trouble masturbating anymore, because I feel totally disconnected with the genitalia that I have. My penis is 5 inches unerect, and approximately an inch wide. Before I started wearing women's underwear, I could not stand to wear anything but briefs. To let my penis hang free is just such a psychological equivalent to being naked to me, that when I was younger, I could not even do so inside of my parents' house (this would be say, wearing boxers, or shorts, when my underwear was being laundered.) When I had sexual partners, immediately after sex I had to put my underwear back on. I could simply not stand to have my penis free-hanging even while snuggling with the person that I loved.

I understand the concern and the desire of a therapist to have their patients slowly transition, so that they and world have an opportunity to adjust, but you have to understand that my gender dysphoria by all of my accounts has led me to such deep depression, and emotional anguish, that I cannot bear the thought of returning at least even partially to the personality that I had as Daniel. As Daniel, I needed my emotions to be bottled, and kept in a nice Pandora's Box, but they won't fit back in there anymore. I cannot help but express myself as Cassondra anymore, it leaks out into everything, and my communication skills have never been better in my life. My friend Liz alone can attest to the drastic change from withdrawn anti-social Daniel to dynamic engaging and friendly Cassondra.

I am not seeking hormone therapy or SRS in order to express some fantasy or realize some alterior motive or hidden agenda. I look upon my history and I realize that I have struggled long, hard and deeply with this issue for my entire life, and that my gender dysphoria isn't simply the cause of confusion, doubt, and struggle, but has caused me serious and deep emotional and psychological wounds. This hasn't been some random nagging itch my entire life, but has been a fundamental driver of serious, many times life-threatening depression. Keeping me at many times throughout my life wondering what would happen if I were hospitalized, and even that perhaps my life would be better for it.

Now, I want to ask you. What could a person possibly have done to be forced to walk between that hell, and the real world, just to satisfy some clinical expectation of transition? And tell me, why I should have any desire to suffer those burdens again?

Sunday, June 11, 2006

More Cowbell

So, yesterday (Saturday) I went out to a club with Liz, and we stayed out until.... God, I think I got home around 4 or 5. But it was overall a very positive experience.

So, wait, let me start from the beginning. Friday some friends and I decided to go see Cars, the new Pixar/Disney film. Since I had just spoken with R. about my transition and everything, and still wondering a bit about his reaction to me actually presenting, I spent some 2 or 3 hours getting ready. It was pretty crazy. I've never spent so much time on my appearance before. I just never cared about myself before.

So, anyways, I show up at R's door, and his first reaction is "woah." Lol, I don't think he were expecting me to be presenting. We talked some, he asked some questions about things, and I answered them. Honestly, if you ever feel the need to bear your soul to everyone significant in your life, choose gender transition. People will ask you the most personal of questions, but not even aware that they're at all personal. They're just curious. Stuff like, "So, um. Why do you want to be female?" and "So, what do you like most about being female? What attracts you to it the most." It's stuff that's hard to answer. Why? I don't know. What do I like most about being female? Being female. It just seems to fit, like a perfectly tailored dress, instead of an ill-fiting suit. It just is. It's kind of that simple, but it's hard to explain to someone, who's not transgendered. They'll typically say things like "Well, you know, I've thought about becoming a female before." and "Well, I think you're probably just normal, but somewhere in your environment you had something happen that turned you over to wanting to be female." *sigh* The gap of understanding is difficult to cross. To get them to understand, yeah, you did many of the same things as I, it's just normal boy behavior. Normal boy behavior though does not include wearing briefs so tight that it keeps yourself very tightly against your body, so much so that you constantly develop rashes, and I imagine most guys wouldn't feel extremely vulnerable and "naked" by wearing boxers out in public. Hell, I can't even stand the idea of boxers in my private HOME.

So, yes, I met up with R, and we were going to meet two other people, and he asked if I had told them about any of this, and I told him "no, I haven't". I think he was expecting a larger reaction from them than just the non-chalaunt, "Oh, he's wearing girl clothes." (thought, not said.) After the movie R had to go meet some people for dinner, so the other two and I headed over to a place called "The Pink Door" in downtown Seattle. It was pretty incredible. Great food, you should go at least once, maybe thrice just to sit in each of their seating sections, I'll need to return twice myself. So, during dinner I had an opportunity to explain to the two what was going on. They had questions, and were generally accepting. They didn't try and judgmental stuff on me, of "Well, are you *sure* this is what you want to be doing?" No, I just dyed my hair pink, pierced my ears, and I'm walking around with prostetic breasts because I thought it would be funny.

So, after dinner, I went over to Liz's and we headed out to On Set, for a Drum and Bass thing, which was pretty incredible. I got out there and danced my toosh off, which is hilarious, because I have been so notoriously against public spectacles such as dancing. But seriously, if you have pink hair, who is going to fault you for being weird?

After On Set, we were still wanting to party and dance, so we drove to a place called Primier or something like that. They were closing down also, but we wanted to try and find an after party. Eventually we came up with a club called Contour, which we could go to. This is where I got a bit of a hassle. Waiting in line we met this nice girl and she loved my hair, she said in High School she did Atomic Pink, and Liz and I both go, "that's totally the color it is!" It was pretty awesome, but so we finally get to the door and the bouncer lets Liz and her Boy past, but then he gets in my way, and he's all "no, wait" or something like that, just after having looked at my ID. I don't know why he did any of this, but it kind of felt like he was discriminating against me. *shrug* whatever, it wasn't that bad.

Anyways, Liz had to use the restroom REALLY bad, so we immediately went looking for the restrooms, and I joined her inside, just like I had done before at On Set, and I had used the female facilities at The Pink Door, and a Starbucks, also. So, I was pretty comfortable with being there and such. Anyways, a security guard comes in, and she kicks this puke-drunk girl out of the club, then she turns to me, and she says, "Honey, are you in the right bathroom?" *sigh* Yes, I reply. And she's like "You sure?" Yes, all the while calm. Meanwhile, Liz, who's in a stall yells out, "Yes, she is in the right bathroom." Thanks Liz, you're the best for sticking up for me like that. :)

So, besides dancing like a maniac, and generally having a fun and awesome time, that's really all that was interesting. I've found it kind of interesting that the girls have been generally accepting of me in their restrooms, since I obviously know what I'm talking about, I don't feel/look awkward, and I'm not gawking, or acting like a guy at all. Just obviously, the Security Guard has to be a bitch... that's what she's paid for. I'm just glad Liz was there, and I didn't have to leave the club. That would have been annoying and embarrassing. "Hey guys, we're leaving. Why? Oh, I was in the 'wrong' restroom." Yeah, let me just walk into the guy's restroom presenting as a female, maybe touch up my makeup, etc. Yes, that makes perfect sense.

Oh, and there needs to be some sort of official ettiquette for people to address people, who are presenting as a gender different from what they obviously are at that point. I was at a Bank, and the manager came over and he's like "Ok, Daniel, we're just going to ask you some questions to verify your identity." And afterwards, I told the teller, just as a matter of courtesy, if someone comes in like me ever again, don't use their first name, they may not be using it anymore. It's also frustrating to be refered to as "he" and "him", when you're obviously presenting as a female. Can someone say rude? Oh well, one can't expect to change the world overnight to be more polite towards use trans females and males.

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Oh, I totally forgot to mention the title of this entry. While we were at Contour, there was a guy who came up and started playing a drum, and such, and at one point, pulled out some cowbells, and it was pretty cool. So, naturally the SNL skit pops to mind, "I know what this needs... more cowbell."