maimed

I went to the Pillhuhn on Friday night to meet M&C for bier and small talk. I ended up talking to this guy that was sitting behind me while M was on the chlo. He thought he was clever in that he ‘clocked’ me, as if that is any great feat. He started off by asking me what I do for a living, when I replied with the truth he was quite surprised. I asked him if he thought I was a prostitute, he said no. I wasn’t buying it. In the course of some rude small talk aimed at getting me to do something with him, he kept mentioning that he had a wife. As if that was supposed to mean something to me. About all that means is that he is yet another closeted, married, gay or bi guy that can only justify sleeping with men if they look like women. I am not a man anymore, so I am automatically excluded. He just didn’t get it. He kept telling me the next time we see each other there, he will get me to do something with him. I will never be that drunk.

Most people notice me but leave me alone. Some others feel somehow compelled to bother me. Honest curiosity is fine, I don’t mind that. But certain people can’t make the connection with me being a MTF, born male desire to be female, and the pronouns. Mistakes are fine too. But don’t sit there and contrarily insist that I am a man, and therefore refer to me in the male. That is just insulting and I don’t know why I took that shit. I have been trying to really let go of the idea of switching genders, and living with being both or better yet, neither. The pronouns are still difficult though. A feminine flavored eunuch of sorts. I try not to waste my breath on people like that, but he caught me when I had a bit to drink. Walking the talk is difficult at times.

I think I am starting to feel the sting of the truth that Dr. F at the now defunct sexual institute once told me. I am not clever enough to link a previous post, so you’ll have to use the search this blog function for “Frankfurt Ia”. That post from almost two years ago is a foreshadowing of the events I am now living. I’m doomed to a lonely life, unless I can somehow learn to like men. Oh well, lonely is not so bad. For now I will just keep pining away for that special person, and being hopeless.

I have realized that the nurse that gave me my last injections put the double shot of estrogen down my leg nerve bundle. She must have stabbed right into it. Sometimes it burns if it goes in between my muscles, but that goes away in a matter of minutes. When I press on the injection site with my finger, I get a shooting pain down my thigh. I hope it isn’t permanent, and it heals soon.

Sonic Youth wasn’t any great shakes, unfortunately. Maybe because I haven’t bought their new cd yet. They started the set with Candle, and Lee did two songs “Joanie” and another familiar one I can’t name. Kim sang a couple too, new ones I didn’t recognize. The acoustics were good but it wasn’t loud enough. I heard other people say it too. It didn’t help that I was still not feeling totally recovered from the hangover.

I had my annual review today. I spoke with my boss for two and half hours. He used the same review that my last boss gave me last year. No raise, bummer. I have had three different bosses within the last year. I shouldn’t have signed it. If I fought it and demanded a real review, I know I can’t count on my last boss for an honest review. That would be a futile effort anyway. I hinted strongly at the fact that I have gone more than five years without a significant raise, and that expressing my career desires with even the president gets me nowhere fast., and that if things don’t change I will start looking. He told me not to give up hope and that he would give me a good review next year and a raise. I told him that’s swell and all, but I don’t think I can hold out that long. He apparently told all of this to our dept head, who said nothing to me afterwards. My boss told me he told him, and that if I am unhappy to talk to the dept head. I feel that if they are really interested in halting the staff erosion, they should be making sure I don’t want to leave. I have said all I am going to say. It’s their turn. I don’t think they get it, and I doubt they never will. It will be too late for them should I submit my resignation.

I have been a moody bitch lately. I have been seething anger. I have been trying to channel the anger into something useful, like creating sinister art nouveau designs. And trying not to kill or maim (with love)