Posts Tagged ‘All About Me!


New Year’s Amended Resolutions

Start the T process. (EDIT 2/10: I talked to a caseworker at Chase-Brexton last week, and I’m now on the waiting list for a second appointment, and then hopefully bypassing any waiting period they might have with my retroactive “life test” piles of documentation also.)

As a corollary, have a serious conversation with my parents about names and pronouns. And ask my dad what puberty was like for him, because we really just want this conversation to be as awkward as possible.

I need to pick up my own car insurance this year.

Go back to school for business degree. (Maybe in the fall, situations depending. If I go to CCBC, maybe I can take Mr. Merciless’s class. WON’T THAT BE FUN.)

Not smoke. I had a clove last November and was like… this tastes like ash. NOPELOL.

Make with the retirement plan.

ALSO ALSO I’ve decided to save the world. One foster child / homeless transperson at a time. (And a farm! With goats! and bees! and a mead hall that’s built for acoustics so we can have dance partiiiiiiiiiesssssss!!) (EDIT 2/10: and a library and an interfaith sanctuary and an organic farm and a charter school and and and…)


New Year’s Resolutions

Start the T process. I’m currently seeing (stopped therapy recently because I’m better now) a supportive therapist; I need to figure out what letters I need.

As a corollary, have a serious conversation with my parents about names and pronouns.

Also related to my parents: start paying for my own phone service and car insurance. I’ve been paying my own rent and health insurance the past year; it’s time to grow up a little more. (EDIT 7/17 I have a shiny new phone now! It’s a Samsung Galaxy, and I use it mostly for work XD Hooray, Google Spreadsheets EVERYWHAR! Instant updates to inventory and shipping! The Captain installed Cerberus on it, so it’s a SAFETY FONE.)

I should probably look into renter’s insurance, if I even qualify for it after what happened. (EDIT 3/31: I’m getting onto the Captain’s renter’s insurance. Yay, benefits of being married! EDIT 7/17 …we’ll get around to it?)

Go back to school (or at least take a serious look at financing it) for business / sustainable agriculture / possibly entomology.

Talk to Xemnas. (I did this one! In early January! And she loves me too :3 EDIT 7/17 )

Not smoke. (I haven’t had any cigarettes since… November last year? Go me.)

ALSO the Captain and I are getting married (EDIT 3/31: We did this on March 13th! With blue yarn instead of rings >.> ). And buying the house we’re currently renting. And NOT buying it, because it’s a crappy house. We’re buying a different house!

ALSO ALSO I’ve decided to save the world. One foster child / homeless transperson at a time. (And a farm! With goats! and bees! and a mead hall that’s built for acoustics so we can have dance partiiiiiiiiiesssssss!!)


learn something new every day, chapter 5

(Right well really it’s every month more like)

January 6: Driving up to Crusader’s house for D&D (by myself, since I was coming from work and everyone else was already there). Thought process while driving up/past:
1. Oh shit, that’s a lot of fire engines.
2. Damn those people standing outside look cold. They haven’t got coats on.
3. Fuck, that’s flames coming out of the chimney.
4. Well, looks like it’s fairly contained and under control. No need to stop.
5. (hyperventilate sob hyperventilate sob hyperventilate sob)
6. Huh. Panic attacks make it hard to drive. I really ought to pull over.
7. *Calls the Captain* “Hi honey. I’m having a panic attack. Can you talk me down?”

January 19: Driving to work on 100E.
1. That giant plume of smoke up ahead could be a fire, accident, or idiot semi.
2. “I will not fear. Fear is the mind killer…”
3. Flickers of flame on the ground. Upright beams, charred and still burning. Chimney. Fire truck. No people. Ground is black.
4. Nothing more to be done and the FD is already there. No need to stop.
5. (hyperventilate sob)
6. No. I’m not going to be late to work.
7. “I will not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will let it pass over me and through me. When the fear is gone, there is only me.” * Rinse and repeat.
8. OK, my voice is steady again. Just keep driving.

I do the same thing going over the Bay Bridge, actually (usually it’s just whiteknuckles on the steering wheel but the Bay Bridge is HORRIBLE and it’s the quickest way to Storyteller’s house). Depending on who’s with me. I’ve found that if Crusader is sitting in my car (January 2nd) I can actually carry on a conversation with him. He and I ended up talking a lot about fear and religion (and relationships, kind of) on the way back one time and we’re a lot more alike than our political views would suggest.

Things I learned: It doesn’t matter where the prayer comes from or whether it’s made up or cribbed from a movie/book or copied directly from [holy text of your choice]. What matters is that it does what you need it to.
…Also, the consequences of getting bindrunes tattooed on you may happen unexpectedly quickly. (The consequences themselves are not unexpected. This is WHY the spider.)

* Having now looked it up, yes: Your foaming at the mouth is justified. This is inaccurate as far as the novel is concerned. It is, however, accurate to my memory of it at the time. Having both read the novel and seen the movie at least a year and a half ago, I paraphrased. It worked anyway, so there you go. The complete and accurate litany against fear.


Learn Something New Every day, chapter 4

I opened the altar book to the story of Frey and his servant Skirnir.

I lit a candle.

I went to pray.

The next thing I remember is my altar burning.

(It’ll probably help if I describe it: It’s a slotted shelf sat on top of a bookshelf, with green linen over it. The top level has candles, personal effects, and an incense holder; the lower level has my ancient copy of Norse Gods and Giants, my calligraphy set atop a carefully folded Marimekko scarf; the tiny space underneath holds more candles, lighters, incense, etc.)

The new book the Captain had bought me was singeing. I tossed it on the bed.

I picked up the altar book and carried it into the bathroom and tossed it in the tub. I could feel my fingers burning. The Captain turned the shower on.

I got a cup of water (a basin would take too long to fill) and tossed it at the bookshelf. The Captain did the same. The fire hissed in reply and leapt higher; melted wax splashed against the already blackened wall.

We left.

I grabbed boots and a jacket, and extra shoes when I saw the Geisha leaving barefoot. The Captain closed the door to my room. Pennylady had the presence of mind to grab her purse. The Captain called the fire department, pulled the hall alarm, and we rousted out the neighbors.

I had a meltdown–crying and blaming myself, calling on Balder’s mercy and wondering why why why why isn’t the Captain furious with me. I chainsmoked half a pack of Pennylady’s cigarettes right in front of him and he didn’t say a word.

Within minutes the FD was there. The fire was put out. I got an ice pack for my fingers. We were allowed back in.

There was no more altar. The bookshelf under it was in pieces on my bed; there was a pile of ash and char where it had been and the firemen were tossing burned books into a bin to throw out through the broken window. I got the book the Captain had given me, some clothes and toiletries, and we went to his parents’ house for the night. No one slept.

The next morning we went back and since they wouldn’t let us in until 9, I went around back and picked through what had been tossed out the window.

My inks were melted and had exploded. I found two nibs and no pen. Most of the books were only charred on the outside. My collar (There’s a picture of it on Fetlife and Twitter) was half-melted and twisted; the plating was gone.

When we were able to get inside I threw everything from my dresser (soaked through) into a plastic bag and forgot about them. I found a pile of quarters in the charred remains of my bookshelf. I wiped them off because we would need them to do laundry at the hotel. I found my wallet, my phone and charger, my work clothes, my immigration papers and US passport, my loan papers… essentials.

I broke down bawling when I found the frames and broken glass from two of my grandfather’s tiny paintings. I kept the cardboard backing, which on the back still reads “God Jul ått [legal name].” In the weeks after, while we were trying to clean the place out and pack, I went through the pile every time I was there, hoping I would find even a scrap. Nothing.

(That part still plays over in my head: The last time I saw them the flames were just beginning to lick up the wall, why why why didn’t I tear them down as well? Everything else is painful, but replaceable. My grandfather died when I was in high school and the two miniature watercolors of Turku in winter are gone.)

We lived in a hotel from October 3rd through October 29th. I got up at four, went to the Macy’s, had lunch, went to the other job, came home at eight, had a beer or three and went to sleep. We moved into a house just south of Baltimore on the 29th-31st and gave out candy on Halloween.

For a few weeks afterward I was having shock reactions: I kept thinking I smelled smoke at the Macy’s. Pennylady called me on one of those days and talked me through it and she has my eternal gratitude for being the one person I could listen to through sheer panic. I had trouble sleeping because every time I closed my eyes I saw waking up to the fire, so I worked myself to exhaustion and drank myself to sleep. As recently as two weeks ago one of Bosslady’s other employees had overheated some beeswax on a hotplate and the smell of burning wax brought panic into the back of my mind. The first reaction was “Smoke? Wax room. Turn down hot plate. Open window. Clean hot plate and bottom of leveling pan.” Sane. Rational. Levelheaded. I do not have PTSD.

There have been good moments: One day the Geisha and I both went to the liquor store and brought home Mike’s Hard Cranberry, without knowing the other was doing so as well. I cut and tooled a leather mask, which I ended up giving to my sister for Christmas. I developed a taste for pro wrestling and we watched a few SVU marathons.

There have been bad moments: Driving without glasses for a week. Finding out the rental insurance only covered the Captain. Almost freaking out when touring the house before renting because there was a lit candle. Having a meltdown at my parents’ house — they haven’t seen me cry since I broke up with Caboose, which was in 2007, and rarely before that.

The second week we were at the hotel, I told the Captain that I had been smoking behind his back after telling him I’d quit this past June. I had finished the pack I had left over that morning and swore there would be no more. I had one while at Packhead’s party and one randomly when I found part of a pack in the Captain’s backpack and my self-control slipped. I *really* wanted one this past night when I knew I would be at my parents’ house for a few days, but I held it off until the Captain came home because I knew I wouldn’t do it if there was a chance he would see me. Which makes it about one a month since stopping cold turkey.

Eventually (mid-November) my sleep deprivation and crankiness and drinking habit got annoying and the Captain beat it out of me, then told me that he owned me and I had no other choice, and that I was going to quit the Macy’s job and get my life together. I agreed. Sanity began to return.

A month or so ago I started reconditioning myself to having fire around, one candle at a time. One night I had six of them lit on the kitchen table, no lights on, and the Captain came down to get me. I had just closed my computer and turned off the lights and began having a Loki moment, needling the Captain about how familiar the fire looked and didn’t this bother him and *why* did it bother him so much, I bet he couldn’t tell me… and the Captain beat it out of me again. For all the things I have to thank Loki for (and yes, the fire is one of them. We were stagnating and we are, really, in a much better situation now, despite the initial trauma) he is an asshole. I’m not supposed to let my deal with him involve the Geisha and the Captain.

We haven’t really been doing a lot of active D/S except for my usual work around the house and the need for a little something special has begun to eat away at me. I need something to focus a service meditation on to get back in the headspace where I was for the few weeks after the Captain took possession.

I can make jokes about fire now, and candles. It only took two months. Fireplay is on the edge of my radar again. We’re hopefully firing up the woodstove this week.

I had to stop and start at writing (October 8 through today) this because it still was a little difficult, some parts more than others. So, there you go. Where your favorite tranny has been since 3:40 AM on October 2nd, 2010.


learn something new every day, chapter 2

Well, now it’s more like learn something new every week.

EDIT: And post about it a month later.

A preface: For a long time I’ve had a bit of a fear of guns. (The Captain takes advantage of this in his own special way.) I’m not exactly sure where it comes from originally; recently it’s been because thinking about shooting myself had become a coping mechanism (yes, I got help.)

Couple of weekends ago I went shooting with the Captain, the Geisha, and the Crusader. The Crusader went over safety first.

1: The gun is always loaded.
2: Even when it’s not loaded, the gun is loaded.
3: Never point at something you’re not going to shoot.
4: If you’re not shooting, the gun is pointing at the ground. Not at your feet, not in the air.

Then he taught the Geisha and me to use the .22 long rifle. It was actually not that difficult once I got the loading action down. I stuck with that one most of the evening, although they also had me try a shotgun, a handgun, and a gigantic scary Lee-Enfield rifle, which left a bruise on my shoulder.

Afterward, we cleaned everything we’d used and hung out with the Crusader’s dad and brothers for a bit. I kept the spent shells so I can make a necklace, although I might need more of the tiny .22’s for spacers.

This makes two irrational fears the Captain has helped me get over. I don’t have to like guns to know how to use them, though.



There was also an ancient revolver that came with us, but didn’t get used because it was rusted to shit. The Captain says it’s probably from the early 1900’s, and it’s been sitting unused at his parents’ house for freaking ever. He cleaned it while we were at the Crusader’s house. Last week he heard it whispering and decided it needed to hide somewhere.


Learn Something New Every Day, Chapter 1


I’m going to kind of condense the past couple of days into one. I’ve started learning to walk in heels. They’re only three inches, but it’s more than I ever walked in before (wearing them to bed once or twice doesn’t *really* count).

I have good posture when in flats, men’s shoes, boots, platforms, flip-flops, barefoot, you name it. Ten years of martial arts will do that to you. Apparently, three inches of sexy sexy heel with adorable peeptoes can make me slouch. Maybe I’m just not used to being this tall? I’m none too fond of being taller than the Captain. The Geisha and I were walking around the mall the other day and she had to keep jabbing me in the back — “Back straight! Tits out! Stick ’em out! Like machine guns!”

My feet aren’t developing *horrible* blisters, so these probably fit well enough that the only issue is that I don’t know how to walk in them. My feet were in pain by the end of the first day, but my calves felt like they had gotten a good workout. I wish they made heels that worked out your upper thighs.

I wore them around the house yesterday for about five hours. By the end of it my feet didn’t hurt, exactly, but they sure were numb. I think it helped to wear a long skirt instead of pants, because it’s easier to let my hips swing when they feel less constrained.

Today I only wore them for a little bit, because I spent most of the day sitting on the Captain’s bed filling out job applications. After having them on for half an hour my toes were going numb, so I figured I would take a break and maybe resume practicing on Monday.

Once I’m good enough with three inches (and have a job, so I can afford to buy more shoes) I’ll hop up on the stripper pole at the next play party *grin*.


I learned a lot this past year or so.

Crossposted from the Fetlife.

I love cloudy weather. It means I can look for a silver lining.

I don’t read tone, inflection, or generally body language.
I generally take people literally and at their word.
When I am being serious, I speak literally, and expect to be taken literally.
People lie and people cheat. People do unkind things to one another, people take sides, people build walls to whisper behind.
I can’t trust actions or words.
When two people say two different things, I cannot pick one to believe, unless I see physical evidence. No matter the circumstances.
If I don’t know what’s true and what isn’t, I can’t do anything.
The only thing I know I can act on is my gut instinct, because nothing is going to change it anyway so I might as well follow.
I can no longer take actions that aren’t congruent with what I believe to be the truth.

I stopped being petty and cruel, stopped entertaining myself at others’ emotional expense, for a lot of very good reasons — one of them being that I didn’t want to hate myself any more.
There is a place for everyone on this earth, and there is something worthwhile in every living breathing one of us.

If I really want to believe in the inherent goodness of people I need to be willing to look for it. Something good has come of the last year(ish), something good has come from this past weekend, benefits will continue to be found in the coming weeks. Even if they are in the form of lessons to be learned, or warnings taken to heart. Any insight taken away, even from the ugliest situation, is a good thing.

One more thing I have been forgetting for a while: There is hope. There is always, always hope.