Chrissy's river of action

opposition

2010-10-05T03:35:00.000+02:00

I am compelled to write out of desperation. It seems with every day that passes, I come to regret ever leaving Europe. It was by far not a perfect place, but a place that I had the chance to be with my Love, legally and without impedance. I do not feel like a US citizen anymore, because the values of this land could not be more opposed to mine. The inalienable rights the founding fathers wrote of are bullshit. My rights are limited by a stodgy right-wing undercurrent that is so full of double standards, they have forgotten what a pure standard is.

I am going to start working on finding my way back to Europe. I don't plan on ever coming back. I had a bad feeling about making this move, but I chose to ignore it. We'll work it out, I told myself. I wish it would, but in the end I think it will be just lots of wasted energy for naught. It is difficult being here after being exposed to how things could be done better, not perfectly, but better. Getting to know cultures that actually care enough about the future to plan for it, and make the necessary sacrifices for the betterment of generations to come. Here we just think about ourselves, and who gives a flying F**k about tomorrow? I am beginning not to care if tomorrow ever comes, in fact, I am near to hoping it doesn't. That seems better to me.

I feel hopelessly lost at the moment, and so filled with regret that I am choking on my own bitterness.

posteed

2010-02-09T23:49:00.000+01:00

I have so many posts that I wrote that I never posted. I usually write my posts in word and then paste them into my blogs. I learned that trick in my early blogging days. I got sick of after working on a post for hours by some strange twist of fate it’s gone. Lost forever. If I had posted all of it, I wouldn’t seem like such a disinterested blogger.

I am feeling abnormally depressed today. In my work email there was a big letdown. I was slated to work on an engineering study that is worth a million euro that appears to have passed me by. I was hoping that we would be getting some new orders so that I could keep working. Everything just looks bleak today. I suppose it could have something to do with me missing my gel for four days in a row. Or, it could be that the economy is in the shitter big time, I’m just about broke due to working only three days a week, and the weather is gray cold and snowy. All I want to do is sleep all the time.

I am thinking that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to take the fashion blogging too seriously. I should have known it would have been addictive like crack. I got so high from the experience that I am completely obsessed with doing it again, and this time to get paid for it. I think I am good enough, actually better than blogging, but blogging is so super hot at the moment that I can’t pass it up. I have the potential to write at a more advanced level than blogging, so I am hoping that through blogging I can work my way into some real writing. Full feature length articles preferably. I am struggling with how to get the most exposure to generate the most amount of leads for freelance assignments.

I loved the journalism aspect of the Fashion Week coverage. It felt so natural to be discussing the details with the designers. I felt almost like a peer, almost. I was able to at least speak their language and therefore got them to open up to me. I wanted to get inside their heads to get as much content as possible. The problem is condensing it afterward. That is something I need to work on. I take in so much visually that I have trouble with leaving something out, feeling the article incomplete or not telling the whole story.

How did blogs become so popular anyway? I started this one in 2005 and it served it’s purpose for me personally. It is a depository for written accounts of my experiences. With all the supposed visibility that I gained through blogging AIFW, it stands to reason that many people have visited my vault here. I wonder what they think of me now? I am not entirely the polished, confident persona that I displayed at the shows. Or am I? I think deep down inside I am that person, and that is my game face. Everyone needs a game face, especially in fashion.

I experienced almost total professionalism at AIFW. I wasn’t turned away by anyone, except for the official closing party. I wanted to go as a form of closure of the events. They wouldn’t let me past the door and I thought it seemed like the only pretentious situation I had encountered all week. The party seemed more like a Redken courting session from outside, and I don’t think anyone I know actually went. I got to look for a recognizable name on the guest list, but it seemed like there weren’t any discernible names, just the same email address over and over. The greeters were aloof but nice enough, and there was a total thug with really bad energy controlling the door. I went home and got to spend time with my fiancé. That was rewarding. We worked on getting my website organized together.

It does something to me to view a designer’s collection the very first time it is shown, before public consumption. I also see that it is a made up privilege, only to be shown to everyone who cares to look at photos a couple of minutes later. It is definitely different experiencing it live, the first view. What a rush!

fatigue

2010-02-06T23:10:00.000+01:00

I have been writing every day for what seems like weeks. I need to shut off for a day or two.

I just submitted a cv and my portfolio for a professional blogger position. I have nothing to lose at this point, so why not try? I have 8 articles published online so far, with two in editing. I loved every minute of the fashion week, and the last day was a nice finale. I met many interesting people that day. I think it cemented my will to pursue my dream job.

I put together a CV and cover letter this afternoon. I had a resume already established, but it was geared toward selling my engineering background. I wrote the CV with the concentration on selling my journalism and writing skills. I wrote it relatively quickly, but then again I have been tossing all of the information around my brain over the past days. It was just a question of dumping it out and sorting it. I like the power that words have.

I have loathed my present job for quite some time, and wished I had some other opportunities. The manufacturing sector worldwide, except for China, is in the shitter. I stay home four days and go to work three, and there is not much signs of life on the horizon. I need to get moving on somehow, and I know I want to do something completely different. Although, the fashion industry does have some parallels to the automotive industry, as with the incremented introduction of new lines and models. Haute couture thankfully does not involve mass production, but I imagine RTW is probably somewhat similar.

Rest. That is what I need to let myself enjoy. I am still high from the experiences of recent times and feel a fire pushing me forward, but I must rest. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.

on my own

2010-02-06T10:01:00.000+01:00

The title has nothing to do with this post. I just need to get some of my own thoughts out without censoring them. I find myself at the end of a tailspin.

Now I am allowed to crash and burn. I have the next four days off. I am on layoff Fridays and Mondays for the whole month of February. I haven't been sleeping much lately, due to the candle burning at both ends that I carry to light my way.

I have fantasies of being like the fashion column writer I read about that writes for the NYT. Spending lots of time in Paris and NYC. Experiencing fashion at it's best. Jetting around the world dedicated to fashion.

I was already obsessed with fashion before all this happened, now I am off my face. It's all I think about now, almost, well a lot. More than I probably should. The nun stops me mid sentence when I start talking about it. I need to be in it, like an addiction. I felt so high after speaking with tom s. at aifw, after I realized who he was. That was a big problem for me, that I don't really know many people involved. I do know more people now, though.

Tom told me that I made a statement with my personal presentation at the shows. I wish I wasn't so hard with him when he first approached me. "Well, you look good." he said. Then I came back without even thinking, like a defense reflex, "It's my business to look good." I honestly don't know where that came from. I normally don't act like that at all. There have been strange fits of over confidence and actually narcissism too that have come out. I find it a bit embarrassing now that I think back on the past three weeks. I did manage to keep it together while mingling with the guests.

His complement was genuine, he even called me after he read my pieces on the shows. It made me feel somewhat good, not as much as it should have I guess. I felt more excited that I spoke with someone who could possibly use my writing talents. I find that my appearance in normal circumstances like my current job is out of place. I am way over dressed for the office most of the time. But at the shows I felt like my appearance fit in perfectly, the atmosphere felt normal and I felt dressed just right. That was a nice feeling. I guess I have been preparing for something like this to happen without even knowing it. The nun was wondering why I was buying so many shoes. Now you know.

anxious anxiety

2010-01-28T12:34:00.003+01:00

I am feeling a bit anxious about the runway blogging this weekend. I Packed my suitcase last night already, so that after work today I can quickly finish the last bit of packing and then catch my train.

Last weekend I took hand written notes and tried unsuccessfully to snap pictures of the models, and then after I wrote the post. This weekend I don't have much of a choice but to blog from the second row. I will have my format already together so that all I have to do is fill in the blanks. There is more to it than that, but it is essential that I prepare a bit beforehand. I don't want to just start with a clean piece of paper. There is much competition expected and I want to produce the best, fastest posting so far.

I just hope that my wireless card holds up.

shaku and stiring

2010-01-27T14:04:00.005+01:00

I have been on a rollercoaster of emotions lately, with the instability mostly attributed to the hours I have been keeping. When I get overtired everything seems so heavy. I think it would help my condition if I try not to take things so seriously. If I am destined to have a writing career, it will happen on its own. Me pushing too hard is not yielding very good results.

I am satisfied with what I have written so far. I have been approaching my writing with a optimistic and positive eye, but I think I need to temper the positivity with a bit of the negative. After all, not everything I see is agreeable. I have been sort of ignoring what I think is completely pretentious and of poor quality.

I am gaining invaluable experience in the fashion industry. I have no one to coach me, and unfortunately I must go about this completely cold. I think that I am doing very well so far, considering the lack of experience. I am trying to meet and talk with as many people as possible.

After AIFW is finished, I plan to continue the journalism on my own. I will have to seek out events to report on, on my own. Doing that I think will be what puts me on the writing globe.

I think also that copywriting would be much less stressful, and I wouldn't have to deal with the flighty people. But the problem with that is: I love fashion! And I noticed that I felt completely comfortable attending the shows. This all happened so quickly. I wished I had time before to make new pieces for myself to wear. I am just making due with my old rags, but at least they are the rags of my own hands. That feels especially good. I am actually at a place where there is a high chance of meeting someone like me in that regard.

I will try to keep an open mind and be as calm and relaxed as possible, and it will work itself out, somehow. I just hope my editor still wants to work with me, the problem child. I had a serious melt down last night that I am not proud of. I only hope I haven't soured any of the fresh relationships that I am trying to forge.

This is niether the beginning nor the end of my writing career. I think it has only yet to begin.

This is all just a warm-up. Stretching the rusty fingers and massaging the matter.

fff #7 - home coming

2009-11-02T17:57:00.001+01:00

“Good morning, this is Cheri” I said.

“Cheri, what’s your location?” he said.

“I’m just coming out of the canyon.” I said grimacing, “Hi Jimmy, how are you this morning?”

“Get that look off your face, I can feel that look.” he said.

“You know how much I hate to bother you so early and all, but Sal wants you to go by Louis’ to see if he’s home.” he said. “He didn’t come in last night and Sal’s getting pissed.

“Why can’t someone else go this time?” I questioned, “I’m on the other side of town and I’m late for a nail appointment.”

“You gotta go cause Sal said so!” Jimmy said in that surly voice he uses when he is irritated. “Sal knows that Louis trusts you enough to let you in.” calming a bit, “Sal wants you find out if he’s holding out on him.”

“I’ll only do it if you give me a shadow and a couple of days off.” I said reluctantly as if I had room to negotiate, “this is a two person job, Jimmy.”

As he was hanging up the phone he murmured; “Just get over there, will ya?”

On the ride across town I began to ponder;

“I’m becoming wary of this family life. I only wanted to do a couple of small jobs to get a new car and other objects that I wanted. Didn’t need them, wanted them. That kind of thinking is what got me where I am now. It beats sitting at a desk all day working on a job that takes half a year. These jobs I do now last usually only a couple of minutes. Destroying all in one heartbeat what it has taken them all their lives to create. I would guess all those that met their fate with me probably had it coming. Why else would they send me if that wasn’t the case?”

“apparently I will be going in solo again, those bastards!” I thought as I drove around louis’ driveway. I hiked up my skirt to put my nickel plated friend in the band of my stocking. The new heated mother of pearl grips I bought for her keep her from cooling my thigh. I adjusted my skirt and got out of the car. Louis was waiting for me behind a pillar near the front door.

“Fancy getting a visit from you, Cheri, and so early in the day too.” Louis said with a smirk.

“If I had the choice you would have remained alone this morning.” I said offering him my hand.

We went into the house to the drawing room to continue our conversation.

“Shall I assume Sal sent you to visit me?” he asked; “because when you come for a social visit you usually call ahead.”

“Jimmy asked me for Sal to come visit you and ask if you were clear and when you were coming in.” I explained.

“I decided I wasn’t coming in, last night, and every last night of my life.” He said as if it was a choice.

“Louis don’t you think you should talk to Sal before you go making decisions on your own?” I coaxed; “you know how Sal likes to know what’s going on with his family. You know how he gets when you go out and you don’t come back in.”

“Shit-he’s getting nervous, where’s my shadow? I never should have come in alone” I thought.

Louis just stood there stoically behind his marble desk.

“Why don’t we just take a ride over to see Sal?” I pushed, “we’ll just tell him you were ill.”

Louis pulled a revolver out of his desk drawer and pointed it at me from across the desk.

“I’m not going anywhere” he asserted as the sun’s reflection on the barrel blinded me.

My phone began to ring and he motioned for me to answer it.

“It’s probably Sal.” He said.

Somehow retaining my composure, I put the phone to my ear and the only word the voice on the phone said was:

“Duck.”

I immediately fell to the floor as if my body suddenly had no skeleton. I heard a pane in the window behind me shatter as if it were a hundred miles away. I secured my nickel plated savior out of my stocking and peered out the window to see if I could find my shadow. She gave me the all clear from the roof of the pool house, and I went around the desk to check on Louis.

“I don’t care if I was here when he got it, but I’m glad I didn’t have to do it this time.” I thought; “ugh, and with these nails.”

fff #6 - Of Scourge(s)

2009-10-26T16:06:00.003+01:00

Of Scourge(s)

I’m not sure why I didn’t notice it sooner. I had been told by others that it eventually becomes personal. “What is that supposed to mean?” It didn’t matter how many times I had heard it, I wasn’t able then to grasp the ultimate meaning of what they tried to tell me.

I assume that I was in denial at first, after all who wants to acknowledge head-on the coming of the end of it all? I mean it took me until the third one to recognize it wasn’t just coincidence, as if the blinders I was wearing were able to render the pachyderm standing by the window invisible. It took a while afterwards to get over the false feeling of consolation, of being hoodwinked, that it was pink instead of white. While battling for victory over the third one, I had much time to contemplate the technicalities of fate. In the end it was just a diversion of the mind exquisitely protracted by the sickness to keep me from addressing the underlying affliction.

Some lessons were hard learned, and who would have guessed that breeding was the one thing that would remain as the only advantageous function? If I remember correctly, it was during the ill conceived pregnancy ban around the time of the first one that I suffered a serious lapse of judgment. I was so attached to worldly things, a candy apple red jag to be more specific, when they began offering big beans for ovaries. It stung when the fuel stopped flowing, a useless pile of steel rubber and glass couldn’t even begin to make me whole again. Anyway I can’t imagine it would help my case to carry another doomed life in my belly, in any case it would just slow me down. Is it being materialistic to want a child? Try not to… Functional footwear would have been a worthwhile investment, or at least flatter shoes would have been best. To think I used to get upset when I stepped on a piece of gum on the sidewalk, now I can’t walk two meters without having a skull cave in under the metallic pressure of my stiletto. Although they are far from ideal, they have served in their purpose on occasion.

This business of the end sure does force one into a mode of extreme flexibility to enable rapid radical adaptation to the presented circumstances. Intuition is and always will be the greatest attribute of the greatest survivors. Following one’s instinctual impulses most of the time makes the narrow difference in either achieving a bittersweet victory or becoming like the rest that just couldn’t cut it. After witnessing such things that would make the average person go stark raving mad, I took lots of concentration just to not think about the carnal imagery, much less to be able clear the mind. I was taught early on that having an empty head is the best cerebral state to enable one to receive and purely interpret the impulse. Only then can one’s response be swiftly formulated and executed.

Communication amongst the survivors has become a harrowing ordeal ever since they figured out that thought energy concentration was a factor in the intensity. The sledge hammer of irony crushed the collective spirit when we found that exactly what we need are united masses, but get more than three people together and you may as well be standing beside the cold stone slab that proudly holds your name inscribed. True, it had become easier to keep separation limits in order, since we were in ever decreasing numbers. I have not yet been able to come by the information about how many were still about making trouble for inevitable void. Would it really help if I knew?

I was lucky to come by the information before all this that metaphysics was the groove. It was a bit of work, but I am tending to think that the practice has carried me this far. Imagine the disappointment in the fidels when the ancient texts of monotheism were proved beyond a doubt to be the insidious joke of a well educated roman scholar called the “panther”. There’s nothing like getting the berber pulled right out from under your feet to take the aggression out of fighting. They seemed to perish simultaneously as if they were all in the same fold. That was the fifth one, I think, try not to… The spontaneous loss of life in numbers made for a messy time indeed. They thought they had the copyright on Armageddon, fools, really.

It doesn’t seem to matter how much I suppress them, there are still the infantile queries that always seem to bubble to the surface at the absolute worst time. It is as if their buoyancy was infused by the briny aftertaste of the deep dread often accompanied by the proximity of the void. We came to call “it” the void for lack of adequate reliable data, and the rigormortified witnesses tend toward silence on the matter. No one is even sure if there is an end or how close you come at any given time. I have found it is best not to trifle myself with such useless thought, and it is better to keep moving. But it leaves me never totally. Which brings me round to the beginning.

It was the eighth deadly scourge, yes, indeed the eighth. I didn’t need that lull in between after the seventh, thanks. Let’s just move it right along, no it can’t be, that’s what those bastards meant? I imagined it would be something out of my nightmares, since they have free reign over it all it seems. C’mon… This one is going to be a cinch. How difficult can it be to spend an indefinite amount of time with a version of myself sitting across from me at the table? She is very inquisitive, how did they get my mind that empty? Maybe that intellectual copyright did prove fruitful? I have been trying for years without significant result. I am slowly realizing that every childhood story and every anecdote increases her knowledge of me, and consequently herself, or me? I feel like a cloud emptying my precious moisture onto her thirsty palate, with every gust I diminish ever further while she only grows stronger, furtively pressing on with the pestilent inquisition. I can no longer discern my smoke like core from her freshly ascertained charm. Try not to…

*************************

I really enjoyed writing this one. Just let it carry me where it wanted to go. Think it may be too raw to post, but I don’t have sufficient time left to come back to it. I feel like I have removed that creative obstruction. Now on to sewing and making dinner.

TAG-02-03

2009-10-13T10:29:00.000+02:00

I guess I should try to write something today. Since I am falling apart quickly it seems. The surgery went well yesterday. The surgeon came for his rounds late in the afternoon with the interns. I had thought after surgery that he had not done any work on my urethra because I didn’t find the belly catheter, but rather just the normal urethral one. Seeing that type of catheter I assumed he didn’t decide to work on it, but when he came for his rounds, he mentioned that he had shortened the urethra and reduced the swell bulb somewhat, and decided to try to use the urethral catheter with the disadvantage being extra bleeding.

I awoke in the recovery room at 9:50 am with an IV in my arm and a catheter in my urethra. They nurses in the recovery asked me if I had any pain, I replied yes, and immediately was administered pain medicine through the IV. I felt nice and relaxed, like I was floating. I was doing well without any nausea or any other complications, except for a bit of pressure in my bladder. I had been in surgery for an hour and a half roughly. This time they were relatively careful about the bandages that they used on my very sensitive skin. The anesthesiologist said afterwards that I needed a bit more than normal to keep me under, although I don’t remember a thing about it. He was a very nice man with good bedside manner and handsome to boot.

I find it weird that when the surgeon goes through on his rounds he tends to speak with his interns and not directly to me the patient, except to ask if I had any pain. When he started to discuss with the interns about what he had done with my genitals, I asked for his confirmation that he had shortened my urethra. He also told me that he did the mons pubis plastic and in the end, removed almost no tissue from my labia. He said that he had stretched them, distributing them evenly between top and bottom and therefore not needing to remove anything. I am anxious to see what he has done. I think I was a bit open at the bottom more than normal, and I wonder if it was from when I stupidly decided to climb stairs here in the hospital and ripped a stitch or two. I was hoping to see it today, but I still have a little bit of residual bleeding, I assume coming from the urethra. The doc said that was the price to pay for not having the belly catheter. I will see if it was worth it or not. I remember the belly catheter was no fun.

I slept most of the afternoon off and on because of the lasting effects of the anesthesia and the pain medication. It was so easy to drift in and out of sleep. I was supposed to get the normal lunch, but the nurse went to check to see if I was allowed to eat and probably got sidetracked and *poof* I went hungry. I slept a lot so I didn’t notice so much, until I awoke and the rest of my roommates were eating their dinner. I almost lost it, but then the nurse came and asked me if I wanted to eat dinner, to which I replied “affirmative”. They also still had my lunch somewhere and I had them heat it up and bring it to me. I ate both in one sitting.

Sleeping was not so easy and I drifted in and out. When I awoke I began to cry for no discernable reason. Day 3. I ate breakfast and felt a bit better and then checked email and read a bit. I started watching the film coralline and then my friend and work colleague Helmut came to visit with me. He brought me diverse fruits and juice and snacks. He stayed for a few hours which helped elevate my mood quite a bit. The whole time I had been also chatting and video calling with my sisters and the nun0 with skype.

TAG-01

2009-10-08T22:32:00.000+02:00

I began my stay in the hospital today. The first day for a planned operation is really boring. They just poke about your person and stick various needles in your flesh. I am again in a room with three other women. I tried to reserve a double room ahead of time, but they are so full that I am not able to get into a double right away. Somehow I doubt I will be here long enough until a double opens up. I am with two younger and one older woman. One of the younger ones has been puking all day long, and bitching about the docs constantly. She has finally fallen asleep and I hope she stays that way all night. I am trying to pass the time by chatting on skype with the nun0. I have internet access this time, so I am hoping to be able to blog as much as possible to make this ordeal go by as quickly as possible. I went through hell last time I was here, so I know what to expect and I hope with this knowledge it will be a bit easier this time. Internet access is free, but I have to go to the front desk every 24 hours to renew it. After surgery I am not sure how long it will take before I am on my feet again, so I may have to wait until Saturday to surface again online.

So on to nuts and bolts…if you don’t want to read the gory details, this is your last chance to tune out.

Some surgeons prefer a one step surgery, and others prefer to perform a two step procedure. Obviously in the one step procedure they re-arrange everything on one shot. With the two step, the first is more or less to “rough it in” which means to re-arrange the pieces leaving as much tissue as possible as reserve should complications occur. The second step is usually optional, often performed like in my case to make the neo-vagina look more aesthetically correct. I will be having a mons pubis plastic, labia majora reduction, and possibly having the urethra shortened. The mons pubis plastic will create the “venus mound” and also provide the clitoral hood to protect the ever so sensitive clitoris. As it is now my labia just form two vertical ridges of flesh without coming together at all above the clitoris. The labia majora are long enough to cover it most of the time, but they are long enough to make it look like I have given birth to four or five children. Hence the labia mjora reduction procedure. The labia minora and majora are formed using the scrotal tissue, since it is relatively the same as labial tissue. They leave them extra long to facilitate skin grafting should some of the vaginal tissue die off post operative. I was lucky to have no problems with healing. The shortening of the urethra will be decided during the surgery tomorrow morning. If it was a purely aesthetic problem, I would leave it as it is, but if it grows more I stand the chance of it peeking out of my shortened labia and therefore rubbing on my panties. And also when I am sexually aroused the tissue around it swells quite a bit and it looks like the stump of my penis coming out. It was a bit disturbing at first, but I am used to it now, after all it is a part of me. If I was with a male partner they would probably find it really disturbing, but otherwise since I don’t produce mucous there, there really is no other physical indication that I am aroused. That was really the only advantageous part of having it in the first place.

I was reading in my charts today the text description of my first surgery. The surgeon wrote that the bulb of spongiosum tissue at the base of my former member formerly known as my penis was abnormally large. They also found that my prostate is abnormally small. Funny my body is.

So now, a year later almost to the day, I am back here in the Markus Krankenhaus in Frankfurt-Ginnheim. Tomorrow’s surgery should be a cake walk compared to the first surgery. Having to stay immobile for five days really drove me nuts. Plus I was having withdrawals from nicotine and they wouldn’t administer my hormones either. I was really fucked at one point. I feel kind of bad about being such a baby last time. I am hoping things will go much better, since I am better prepared. Although I have no one here to help me this time, nun0 really held me together last time, I have lots of things to keep me occupied. I have lots of films on my laptop, lots of magazines, a couple of books, and sketching materials for designing some outfits. I was hoping to have internet access so that I can copy some pics from various pattern websites and make design boards with paint shop. I also have my external HD with me so that I can try to start sorting and editing my many scribblings that never made it on my blog. I have written so much that I have just kept for myself. Its time they see the light of day. I think I will have a chamomile tea and start watching a movie.

throw back

2009-10-05T22:29:00.010+02:00

gotta get back to posting. it has been too long. these thoughts have for some time now been bouncing around inside my cranium. it's time to let them flow again. my mind and body have gone through some radical changes in the last couple of years. i rarely go back and read what i wrote several years ago. my life is thankfully much different now and i am relatively happy, despite the world falling apart all around us. i have successfully changed my blind consumption into aware consumption. i make an effort to eliminate all chemicals from my nutritional intake, and also limit my medication intake to only the hormones. i don't even take aspirin anymore, unless it is something seriously painful.

i don't watch tv here in germany so i don't know if it is the same, but i was disturbed by the prescription drug adverts in the states because of their somtimes graphic nature and the high frequency of airtime. for some of my family the television is as it was explained to me, background noise. tv wasn't forced on me when i was there, but two huge widescreens running all the time certainly gets and holds your attention easily. the nun kept having to draw my attention away from it. i became aware of it's power. and it becomes super disturbing to me to be bombarded with incessant adverts for medications. on my visit this particular theme took on a whole new dimension that needs to be reckoned with.

my theory about the onslaught of cancer is that the decisions that were made, i'm not sure when, to start putting certain additives in our food to benfit our health are actually partially what is killing us. the industrial farming and it's processed foods, the medications for every ailment, literally; are what is killing us. it was difiicult to find just plain bottled water in the fridge, since it was filled with cans of soda and modified water to make it better of course. why drink plain water when u can get a burst of energy with modified water. i purposely didn't punctuate that sentence with a question mark. air fresheners were another problem that i had. it disturbed me to be continually dosed with some sort of air sanitizer. the dispensers were in almost every living space. by the way my beer was in the fridge just to be fair. but seriously, it seems clear to me now that i can probably reduce my risk of cancer by eliminating chemicals as much as possible from my environment and diet. i need to quit smoking too. i understand that every drag is a many pages list of chemicals. i need desperately to stop it. it is an insidious addiction.

it seems so normal to me now to question, or at least think about and be aware, of what i buy. i like it when i can see something telling where a product was produced. partly based on the location, i make a decision on whether or not to buy it. it is disturbing to think about where things come from these days and i think most choose not to recognize it. it is a lot easier that way. i have decided to try to save myself from a manufactured death. you can decide for yourself. i have made my decision, and to me there isn't any other way.

fff #3 spatter

2009-10-04T23:55:00.001+02:00

They never could get that right those two. Time and time again I tell them,”you’re standin’too close!” Do they listen? No, not on your last breath would they listen. It’s like they go into some kind of weird twin trance when they get that close. I ceased my accompaniment with those two long ago. I couldn’t bear to watch the certain destruction of such fine clothing. I often wonder why I picked those two, of all the others with great potential that were ripe for the picking. I tend to think it was because they share their mother’s charm. Their mother was always a doll, really classy and through it all never losing her composure, to never be less than a lady. I figured any kid of hers gotta be good. And loyal always. Those two are the most accurate I have ever employed. Their creativity sometimes in fulfilling a job is simply inspiring. Never in my day could I conceive of such improvisation. I think these days one, or two as it may be, must remain flexible to anticipate changes in routines, and to be able to communicate it in real time is certainly an advantage over what I had to contend with. Back then we had to rely on good old intuition and keeping your eyes peeled. Shadowing took a lot more skill and effort and much of the success was directly proportionate to the amount of finesse applied to the given task. I have seen some jobs that were at their end like a work of art, hell it was fine art in it’s own context I suppose. Poetic even sometimes. Nowadays there are even streaming video feeds from a pen in your shirt pocket. The technological advances almost make it like shooting fish in a barrel. And with the two of them on the spot, there is always an extra set of eyes on the look out for trouble. And with their clothes I honestly think they do it on purpose as if they have become bored with their chanel dresses that run me two grand every time. It is a bit of a shame about with their total disregard for couture. Ah, but the precision.

slacker

2009-06-27T22:40:00.003+02:00

My lack of posting demonstrates my disinterest in ever becoming a serious writer. I just went looking back over the past two years' posts for the month of June. This same weekend last year I passed my 5th Kyu test in Aïkido. Tomorrow I will participate in a two hour seminar from 10 to 12 and then immediately following will be the testing again. I participated in the seminar today for two hours, the whole time spent sweating uncontrollably due to the humidity and the lingering effects of the cold I had this week. I had planned on being tested today, but it didn't happen because there were so many people from Mainz and elsewhere that wanted to test also.

The Sensei gives priority to the people that come from a distance so that they don't have to come back again tomorrow. I think after all was said and done, three of us from the dojo have to wait until tomorrow, out of about 20 that were tested. I was really impressed with the proficiency of the 1st Kyu's. At that level you have to know all of the techniques for every attack. I hope to become that good someday as well. I saw a lot of techniques in their performance that I had only seen in sessions on Sunday and wednesday evenings last summer.

I used to practice six days a week back then. I decided after my srs that I would be happy practicing three times a week. Although three days seemed to be enough, I noticed in practicing intensively in preparation for the test that I wasn't quite in the shape that I need to be in. I am going with my gf to the south of France for a week of Aïkido in late July. I want to be in top shape when I go there to practice. I have been thinking about how my body felt a year ago, and luckily it has greatly improved in flexibility and endurance. I remember having to sleep on my back with pillows under my knees to keep them bent because that was the position that was the least painful. I think that I had to do that the friday evening before the saturday testing so that I could sleep for the pain. I remember thinking that I overdid it and wouldn't make it to test. I don't have knee pain anymore, but I have been damaging my feet alot.

The problem with the feet is an ancient one, and I have finally decided to treat them myself. I have always had flat feet and in the past few years I have developed an occaisional burning pain in the third and fourth toes on my left foot. I went a little bit overboard with the high heels without any kind of forefoot padding. That led to an inflammation of the very same nerve that was causing the pain in my toes. The condition is Morton's Neuroma and was very painful at its worst. It feels a bit like walking over a long round stone under the ball of the foot.

I miss being able to wear my many pairs of heels. That is partly what drove me to search out the options for corrective insoles. I have been wearing them every day for two weeks and the difference is clear. The pain from the neuroma is almost gone and I think that if I can find the right padding, I can try wearing the heels again. But I am glad that my foot is healing on its own without the need for any medication or surgery. The old way of dealing with my condition was to remove the nerve surgically. I guess they do that in the teeth as well, but I can't imagine giving up feeling in two toes. I need to find the balance of footwear that enables my feet to stay healthy.

I have been practicing lots of Aïkido techniques that are performed in an upright kneeling position. This is obviously hard on the knees and the toes. I was able to maneuver better in the colder months of the year becasue my feet tended to be dryer and not "stick" to the mat. I wonder if I could try some powder or wear open footwear before parctice. I think though that with the amount that I sweat I will not find anything that will keep them dry. Part of the problem could be that my legs are just worn out from too much practice. I always try to knuckle down and make it through the suwari waza tecniques. There are a couple of people that I practice with that I feel like I am able to flow better with. I think in a couple of years that I will achieve the reveered hakama level, but that is just a milestone on the longer road to harmony with nature. I hope to be still practicing when I am old and gray.

Oh yeah the aquanun is coming to stay with me for the month of July! YaaaaaaaaaY! <3

body single

2009-03-27T21:16:00.001+01:00

I have been sewing clothing for myself continuously since just before I went into hospital for surgery. I am proud of my stamina. I think partly my improved body image has something to do with it. I have cut back on practicing aïkido since I started again after recovering from surgery. I am practicing regularly on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays. I have been wanting to go on Wednesdays and Sundays as well, but I usually work late on Wednesdays and Sundays I am just plain too lazy to go out of the apartment. Lazy isn’t quite correct, well maybe. I am usually working on a garment and I like to take a catnap in the afternoon to get some extra rest in between. It seems that practicing three days a week corresponds to my exercise needs relative to my nutritional intake. I love aïkido. I am so thankful to my gf for introducing me to it. Domo arigato baba. My body has continually changed since taking hormones, and to think of it, I started taking them back in March of 2005. I have been on them for four years now, and next week will be my third anniversary of my coming out to my work colleagues, and subsequently my step into living fulltime. Yay for milestones. I am 99 percent satisfied and happy with my decision to transition.

There are some negative things that were expected to happen that have come to pass. One example that I can think of difficulty finding a job. I have been on five or six interviews in the Netherlands that turned out that I was either offered a ridiculously low salary, or told that my qualifications didn’t match their needs. I will continue looking, but I am slowly starting to think that I have to expand my search beyond just the Netherlands. I think that my qualifications are just fine, and I usually told so in the actual interview, but when it comes down to it, I suspect that if there are two candidates and one is me that they will choose the other simply because I am likely seen as a liability. “How can we put this person in front of a customer?” rings in my ears. I will keep looking though.

My bottom has become bigger and rounder and I actually have a good set of hips going on, and in combination with my 31 inch waist, I have a slim build with some nice curves now. I can’t hardly imagine now that I used to have a 34 inch waist. I have lost quite a bit of muscle mass in my arms, but the rest has not changed so much. I have an almost flat abdomen with softly defined abs. I am not sure if I just had low expectations for my physical changes, but my body looks better than I ever expected it could. I am fortunate that my metabolism, if it hasn’t changed at all, has become faster. My weight is still hovering between 155 and 160 pounds, depending where I am on my cycle.

I have been making lots of skirts and blouses to go with them. I have made five skirts and four blouses so far. I am currently working on a pink duchesse high waisted pencil skirt, the blouse is already finished but I am having trouble with motivation to finish the skirt. I really enjoy wearing the little outfits I have made for myself. I am building quite a collection of pumps. Shoe addiction is a terrible affliction on my wallet. High femme suits me just fine. If I could or had to dress in finer clothing all the time I wouldn’t have any problem with it. My feet might beg to differ, but as long as I have it, I am going to get as much mileage out my body as I can. I have waited most of my life thus far to be able to be exactly the person I am now, in body and mind. When I think back on all the things that I used to sew for myself that never fit right, my taste has not changed in clothing. My sewing skills have become almost professional level I think. I am continually improving my skills through practice. I getting a better feel for finer fabrics, some are quite difficult indeed.

Even though I haven’t been posting much at all, I have been writing all along and just saving the posts in a folder. Some of what I have been writing is meant just for me, but the mass would need to be sorted and sanitized if I were to post it retrospectively. I am not sure I have time to do it. I am hungry now so I am going to cook something.

more than wot?

2009-02-22T17:06:00.002+01:00

Just read back a bit of what I posted without reading a second time. It just shows how ridiculously insecure about myself i can be. I over compensated myself in my writing and in my thoughts. Something to think about.

belt broke

2008-12-16T22:57:00.000+01:00

Im on the flight to Detroit for my 2008 holiday trip. I will be arriving in detroit at 2pm. I have made it through six hours so far, and it wasn’t too bad. There is always some people that insist on leaving the window shade up even though the light coming in is often blinding, and there isn’t really anything to see anyway. I tried to sleep for a bit, but I couldn’t due to the cries of screaming babes and the blinding light. Plus my seat wont recline more than a couple of degrees. Sucky. At least everything went quickly and easily once I arrived at the airport. Getting there was a bit of a problem. Helmi picked me up a couple of minutes later than planned because of heavy traffic, which was good for me because I am always late anyway. We got about two-thirds of the way to the airport on the autobahn and then helmi’s car started to sputter and almost stall. Luckily there was a rest area in another 500 meters. We stopped and he then checked under the hood and found that the two week old fan belt had disintegrated. We were going nowhere fast. He rattled off a number of a mobile phone information service that I called for the number of a taxi service. Stupid me, I didn’t realize that we were past Langen, and I asked for a taxi from Darmstadt. In the end the taxi picked me up within ten minutes and dropped me at the airport within another ten minutes, and it cost 50 euro. Shit.

I got to the terminal to check my baggage with an hour and twenty minutes till takeoff. I checked in online yesterday and therefore was hoping that the airlines had finally set up a separate baggage drop off for those who have been checked in online. I was just complaining to Helmi before we broke down that they didn’t have such a counter in Ffm. They actually had a counter for the baggage drop off and all I had to do is switch my makeup bag from my carry-on to my suitcase and drop the suitcase on the belt. It was so quick and easy that I was a bit dazed and wondering if I was dreaming. It was reality alright, which was really nice for a change. The line was really long to do the normal check-in and I would have been cutting it very close had I had to wait in that line. I then proceeded to roll a couple of smokes and then went outside to smoke and call helmi to tell him everything was going to be ok.

At Fraport in the past they have had double layered security, which was an incredible pain in the ass, having to remove shoes and belts not once, but twice. In Amsterdam Schiphol they had three checkpoints. That really sucked. But today it was very easy, no security after the customs, and only then once at the gate. I stopped at the swarosky crystal store on the way to the gate to pick up a little something for Allison, since she always puts me up at her place and I feel bad because I usually don’t get her anything to show my appreciation. This time I did. I got her a nice purple crystal butterfly with sparkling stones pendant. I got the cherry earrings and necklace for myself. I couldn’t resist.

I was lucky enough to get on the flight on time and also to sit near a nice young woman. I was a bit worried as I was walking to my seat because there are usually lots of male soldiers flying home and I was hoping not to have to sit with one. Not because they are soldiers, but because I don’t think that many men would be very sympathetic towards me, not as many as women anyway. My legs are starting to feel a bit sore and I think I might get up to go pee in a few minutes. Two hours to go.

I have been on the fence lately about purchasing a new laptop. I am not so happy with the portability of the thinkpad R61i that I bought last year around this time. It is way too heavy and bulky and I actually wanted something that I can throw in my handbag and take with me very easily. I have also been thinking more about having the hair transplants performed in Nuremberg to fix my hairline. I would recoup some of my money if I sell my current thinkpad on ebay or something. But I tend not to bring my laptop anywhere unless I absolutely need it, because it is so unwieldy. I need to wait a couple of days to see how much money I will be getting from work this month before I decide what to do. I am supposed to be getting reimbursed for this flight and also for my tax preparation fees. The flight is taxable as income, but the tax preparation fees are not. I also need to think about possibly moving soon and whether I will have to pay for the transport of my storage from michigan to massachusetts, and also general moving expenses. There are some uncertainties about the next few months. I am concentrating on looking for a job again, and am planning on beginning a more aggressive search after the new year.

I had an interview in Luebeck in the north of germany last week. It went extremely well I felt, and the man that I interviewed with seemed enthusiastic about meeting with me for the next round in Amsterdam. The company designs dredges and the ships that operate them. They have an office in Luebeck and in Amsterdam. The interviewer promised that he would contact me this week to set up another interview, as we had discussed possibly meeting again on the fifth of January in Amsterdam because I will be there anyway. It seems as though it would be an interesting job, depending on what they would have me doing of course. He told me that they have an excess of work and not enough people. So we will see.

In the days before going on the interview I planned on finishing making the wool trench coat that I had started when I was in the hospital for my SRS. I finally finished it on Saturday night just before the tranny meeting in Neu Isenburg. I wore it with a new black satin high waisted pencil skirt that I had made before I went in the hospital. I had a plan for what exactly I wanted to wear to the interview, and it was just a question of producing the pieces. The burgundy red pumps and the black waist belt I had already. I just needed to make the matching pencil skirt and blouse. I started working on the pencil skirt on sunday morning and I finished it on monday in the morning. Then I started immediately on the blouse. The blouse has flounces on either side of the collar and front band, and also a tie collar. I will post a couple of photos taken by helmi of me on the evening after the interview. I finished the blouse in time to get on the train in the afternoon on the day before the interview. I had to only sew the buttons on the sleeve cuffs and the front band, which I was able to complete on the train between Frankfurt and Hamburg.

I was very proud of myself that I was able to achieve my goals for my presentation at the interview. As a result, I felt very confident, relaxed, and powerful. I both felt and looked good. I was expressing myself as I had always dreamed I could. I know it more or less comes down to clothing, but clothing and fashion is a very big part of who I am as a person. I am very visually driven, and for me it is really in the details. I kinda looked like a seventies secretary, but with an up to date and perhaps also a fashion-forward look. I ended up making it back home in time to meet with helmi for a few minutes before I went to the company Christmas party at a restaurant similar to Mongolian barbecue. I felt like a star at the dinner, even though I noticed some strangers clocking me and whispering and really obviously turning to look at me. I stared right at the girl that had to clue in her male friends at the table with her of my presence. I don’t care if people clock me, I am not hiding anything, but please don’t act like a child, and as if I wouldn’t notice such blatancy. Woteva, I know I looked better than she did, and she has been a girl probably all her life.

I am becoming a fiend for pumps. Ever since I have found that I can fit into Clarks shoes in a size 8, I have been buying them all up. I now am the happy owner of five pairs. I have learned a lot about buying and wearing pumps over the past several months. I am actually able to walk easier and more naturally with an 8cm (3.5 inch) heel than with a shorter 5cm (2 inch) heel. It is strange, but I tested it a couple of times and it seems to hold true. Also the pumps seem to fit differently at different times of the month. I assume it has something to do with my hormone cycle and more specifically with the water retention. I am so happy that I have taught myself how to walk naturally in heels. It was a goal that I thought I could never achieve, but after some practice at home in the evenings, I have it down now. I want to get some stilletto heels eventually to wear with the little black dress too. I am becoming super femme, or maybe at least high femme and I like it. I look at it this way, if I am going to be stared at, I may as well give them really something to stare at. I must admit it does somewhat clash with my feminist values.

auslaufmodell

2008-11-13T22:22:00.001+01:00

There is some sort of strange string bean model that is sitting a few seats away facing me and a pair of giggling turkish princesses too. I am more of a woman than all of them put together. The turkish princess right in front of me looks like she is scratching her pussy with her inch long fingernails. gross! At least when I need to scratch my pussy I have enough sense to go to the bathroom.

Well I survived my surgery and all is healing as well as can be expected. I didn’t manage to totally quit smoking unfortunately. I’m a bit disappointed with myself that I wasn’t able to do it. I at least didn’t smoke at all while I was in the hospital, and I didn’t start again until several days after coming home. I have noticed that I have reduced the daily amount that I smoke relative to how much I used to smoke. I do still want to try to quit totally. I should plan it and stick with it. I feel somehow that the next time will be easier. I have to want not to smoke anymore for it to work.

I’m sitting here writing this on the ICE going to meet my love in Amsterdam for the weekend. I have a job interview tomorrow in Rotterdam. I decided to make it worth my while by traveling stressed tonight, since they wanted me to come earlier than if I traveled tomorrow. My only hope is that it turns out to be more than just a possibility, and perhaps lead to something real.

I am skeptical that I will ever find a new job because of my transsexuality. In a perfect world I would be evaluated based on my experience and expertise, and not on my gender expression. I am expecting it to take a long time until I eventually find a company that is willing to take the perceived risk to hire me. I just hope it is a job that I actually want. My main priority right now is to make sure that I continue to heal well and then the job search comes secondary. I want to move to the Netherlands to be closer to my gnun. I love her so much. I just hope I can stand the dutchies though.

I had a telephone interview for a job in Switzerland to be an onsite engineer for an American company that has partnered with a Swiss company to provide them with manufacturing capacity. The Swiss company develops and produces photovoltaic material for solar collectors. I spoke with people from their office in Plano Texas. The interview lasted for a full hour and I was able to satisfactorily answer all of their questions. I had a good feeling afterwards, but I have not heard anything from them or the headhunter that set all of it up. They even subjected me to two online psychological evaluations. Some of the questions were relatively insulting; such as “did you ever steal as a child?” and the last question on the last one was “some of my answers on this questionnaire are not 100% honest.” I think tests or evaluations like that are total bullshit, but one must endure some ridiculous things to get a job these days. The problem with this one is that the position in Switzerland will only last from 12 to 18 months, and then I would have to move to either their office in Austria or Czech Republic. Also there may be some resistance to give up information so that I would be able to perform my duties. I would be the engineering middle(wo)man between the Swiss and the Americans. They are expecting that the partnership will generate 350 to 400 million dollars worth of revenue for them. The manufacturing plant is in Singapore, which I am not so crazy about being a part of the exploitation of cheap labor. I’m not sure about this one. I will probably receive some feedback in the next couple of days.

The interview tomorrow is for a staffing firm that provides bodies for offshore, maritime, and tunnel boring companies. They are interested in me because of my international and German experience. I will be meeting with one man and one woman tomorrow at their office in rottingdam at ten a.m. I really hope that it turns out to be worth my effort to meet them when they wanted and for the amount of time they requested. I hope I am not met with disappointment like I was at a couple of other interviews in the Netherlands. I will try to put my best face forward and hope for the best and act as if I don’t need their job. In reality I don’t because I am still gainfully employed, for the moment anyway. If it comes down to a discussion about my gender, I hope it stays on a professional level. If it turns ugly I will just thank them for their time and take my leave of them. I will not let anyone disrespect me and sit there and take it.

I have been taking on much more responsibility at work these days because I agreed to be the replacement for my supervisor when he is not in the office for whatever reason. I have also temporarily taken over the responsibility for moving a project further while Helmi is sick. The schedule is quickly running away on us and I have to hit it hard on Monday when I am back in the office. I am able to deal with the stress ok so far, and thankfully I only have three more weeks and then I am off for five weeks again. I am really looking forward to enjoying myself over those weeks. I am sure that I will be ready for a break when I reach that point, if this first week back at work is any indication of how the rest will go.

I have my six week examination on this coming Monday, even though it will have been seven weeks since surgery. I am very happy with the results of my surgery, even though I was a bit disappointed at first. I think that the lack of hormones had a very serious effect on my perception of things.

neo fevina

2008-10-14T18:04:00.000+02:00

I want to thank all of those people who have been showing me love and support during this, one of the most difficult events of my life thus far. It has been a rollercoaster of emotion. I realized in the days that I have been home the degree to which I was medicated in the hospital. I was delivered home by a good friend last friday afternoon. I took with me only the pills that were given to me in the hospital that morning. By Saturday evening the pain medication had worn off and my mood deteriorated accordingly. I finally took an ibuprofin 400 before going to bed on sunday evening which helped me sleep somewhat. The pain is mostly coming from the deep tissues and the nerves slowly reconnecting themselves with the outside world. The nerve sensation is like a hot wire the size of a hair is being pulled out of my flesh. It lasts just a few seconds but is extremely painful. The deep tissue pain is general, non specific nagging pain. Laying on the bed on my back with my legs slightly spread is my favorite position.

My beliefs in the practices that I have come to know within the last several months drove me to try to endure the recovery time without pain medication. I realized that I am not strong enough to make it through without pain medication. It is just too much to take.

closer

2008-09-26T22:23:00.002+02:00

I find myself in the last days or hours as it may be before my genital surgery. I will be going into the hospital on Monday morning for tests and surgery preparation. The surgery will be performed early Tuesday morning. I am so happy the day has finally arrived. I am calmly excited about the surgery. I know that it will be a painful healing process that will take several weeks. I have everything I need to take care already finished and I will be resting a lot in the next couple of days. I am so thankful my girlfriend will be able to spend three weeks with me during this difficult time. I was hoping not to have to go through this alone, and thankfully I won’t have to. She is so kind and loving to make such a sacrifice for me. I am really looking forward to her being with me. We have been becoming closer than ever in the last several weeks.

I began to get ill last week while I was on a business trip to the Netherlands. I was sitting in the back of the car when I began to feel very nauseous and slightly dizzy. From that point on, all week I was feeling a bit nauseous here and there, and then on the weekend I came down with a cold. And of course I promised to have several things finished and ordered before I finished this week at work. I assume the stress didn’t help with my health matters. I went home sick on Tuesday and stayed home on Wednesday completely. I felt better yesterday, but I think it might not have been such a good idea to go to sword and aikido practice last night. I got a lot out of the practices, but I think I should have saved my energy to get well. I was able to get things at work to the point where I could leave at a decent time today thanks to the help I received from my colleagues. I was wondering if the nausea I was and still partially experiencing is from my dying or dead testicles. The other thought I had was that I may be having problems with candida yeast again. The symptoms seem a bit too similar to those problems that I had last year around this time. I cannot be sure what it is, so I am just going to try to get as much rest as possible in the next couple of days, in hopes of being reasonably well for surgery.

I have been feeling very feminine in the past couple of months. I suspect it may have to do with surgery coming, or maybe it is the backlash from me altering my beauty regimen in response to the complaints of my girlfriend. I had stopped wearing makeup every day, and I was not dressing nice like I had last winter. I think this time has helped me to temper further the amount of time I spend on how I look. I have begun to wear makeup only on special occasions and when I will be meeting with customers. There is a woman that works at a company on the same campus as me, and I would see her usually at lunch in the cafeteria. I would get secretly very jealous of how she presented herself and became disappointed that I had let myself and my wardrobe go. I couldn’t even dress nice like that if I wanted to simply because I don’t have any clothes like that. She is almost always wearing a skirt with a nice blouse and pumps, very classic and almost exactly how I want to dress.

When I first came out at work I was dressed always relatively nice, wearing either things I had made myself or store bought. I became inspired by seeing that girl, and now I have a whole new wardrobe planned to make while I am recovering from surgery. I have prepared a few pencil skirt patterns, in the latest high waist style and also bought some nice flannels to make them out of. I also am planning on making blouses out of satin, crepe de chine and cotton shirting. I have also had relatively good luck with finding several pairs of pumps in my size in different styles and colors. This season my shoe of choice is clarks. Over the past couple of months I have been trying on many pairs of shoes to get a feel for how they should fit. I learned a very important lesson when I visited a customer earlier this month about the correct fit of pumps. I noticed through all of this that my left foot is a half size smaller that my right. Noticing this difference has been a big help in determining the correct fit. The problem I encountered at the customer was that I was walking out of the right shoe, and then as soon as I corrected that with the insoles I brought with me, I began to walk out of the left one as well. That was a very embarrassing and not to mention painful experience I do not intend to repeat.

I figured out that the right shoe should fit relatively snugly in the toe box and at the heel. The left shoe I can add a half insole to help that foot fit better. I had thought at first that having plenty of room was a good thing and that trying them on in the evening after work made sense. I know now that neither are totally correct. I guess if the shoe will only be worn at night then that would hold true, but I also realized that I will be wearing the shoes mostly for work and that means wearing them starting in the morning when my foot is at its smallest. I also realized that if the shoe is loose in the morning, the problems caused by rubbing or walking out of them will cause my feet to swell and tire quickly, only exacerbating the problems. Heels are not really made to be comfortable, so I have come to the conclusion that if I want to wear them, I will have to deal with a bit of pain. Minimizing the pain, or limiting it to my feet being tired, instead of pain from chafing, blisters, and birds eyes is a decent tradeoff. Trying on shoes only in the evening is not the complete solution as most would have you believe. I have also determined my maximum heel height, 70 mm. Over 70 mm I cannot walk correctly. I am tall enough already anyway. I have been training myself to walk in heels at night by putting them on and wearing them around the apartment for a few hours at a time.

I have mentioned many times here that I had a definite vision of myself as a woman and I really feel the need to live that vision, because I am able to if I just work at it sensibly. The skirts and blouses that I am planning on making during my recovery are somewhat simple to construct, and energy permitting I could make one each per day. I will be in hospital for two weeks after surgery, and then four weeks at home. I assume that after the first week at home I will be able to sit for a reasonable amount of time at my sewing machine. I will obviously have to see how it goes, and try not to push it if it doesn’t work. I am happy that I have the creative energy to sew once again. Most of what I have picked to make are timeless pieces that will hopefully bridge seasons. I am also very happy that my body has changed to the point where I don’t really have to do much pattern alterations to end up with a good fit. I actually have a discernable waist, hips and ass. The slimming of my waist has helped my hips and butt become shapelier, although both could be a tad bit larger. There is enough o work with though. I have selected styles that will further accentuate my barely there curves. Smart accessories like the perfect belt help too. I caved in and bought a pair of burgundy red pumps which seems to be popular color for this fall-winter season. They are of a classic style, so I am not so worried about not being able to wear them after this season. I wanted to buy a brown pair of pumps, but I had no luck. I guess the burgundy red is the new brown for this season, or at least which is what I have been telling myself to ease the guilt. On the other hand, I haven’t spent any money on clothes or shoes in almost a year. I can afford to let myself indulge a bit, and besides, I have been buying staple items or investments in my presentation.

I like dressing up in nicer clothes, and it also makes me feel good about myself. The confidence I feel when I am all put together is amazing. I suppose part of it is satisfying my ego, which I have been slowly letting go of through practicing aikido.

vaschun

2008-09-17T22:35:00.002+02:00

I wanted to show off my new duds...

cut 5Q

2008-06-28T18:17:00.001+02:00

A lot of things seem to be coming together at the moment, and they are all positive. I achieved my 5^th Kyu Aikikai today. The Sensei had three comments; I messed up the entrance to shomen uchi Ikkyo, I didn’t put my feet up on my toes for nikkyo, and the most famous one: my posture needs work. The posture comment was to be expected. I was reluctant to take the test, but eventually after so many people asking me if I was going to test, I gave in to the pressure. Our Sensei asked me twice, and I assumed after the second time she would keep asking until I said yes, out of respect I decided to do it. I am glad in a way that I did it, because I learned a lot of the aikido language. I wish that I could get more spiritually from it other than what I bring myself to where I practice daily. I get the spiritual learning from the outlaw school that I participate in now and again. I feel very good about myself and feel like I am on the road to harmony with myself. I can feel it happening and it feels amazingly calming.

On to the next topic, on my birthday I received the letter from my health insurance regarding the approval of the coverage of my sexual reassignment surgery. I just have to write a short letter and send a copy of the document to the surgeon to obtain an appointment. When I last spoke with the doc, he told me the waiting time is between four to six months. It may happen still this year that I finally get fixed. I almost did a total flip out when I opened the letter. I was hoping the answer would come before my birthday, and it is extra nice that it came when it did. The health insurance also decided to reimburse me for the cost of the psych evaluation. That money is my very thin safety net. I also got my vacation payment from work this month, so things are looking up again financially.

I found the letter in my mailbox as the aquanun and I returned to my place from France. She treated me to an aikido seminar in Paris for my birthday. My sweet kR0K. I rented a car from the motor pool at work and we drove there on Friday during the day so that we could start the seminar on time. We had a very romantic drive through the French countryside through the champagne region. We arrived around three and went to find the hotel. The hotel was no great shakes, but we only really needed a place to sleep since we would be busy with aikido the whole time. I wish that we could have done some touristy things, but in the end there was no time. My legs were toast by Saturday night, and I still had Sunday to make it through. I made it though, luckily.

more to com….

blocked like

2008-04-16T23:19:00.002+02:00

I’m feeling a bit discouraged tonight. My aikido practice earlier was totally off. I was the only woman there, except for the instructor, not that it makes a difference. I have been letting myself get frustrated at work over the past two days. I practiced with the Jo last night with Günter instructing, and that went relatively well considering it was only the second time I had one in my hand. Reflecting on tonight, I didn’t really feel any energy in the dojo, like there usually is. Strange how it all felt a bit different tonight. I have practiced with small groups before, and have much preferred them over larger groups. I am tending to think it is just me trying to come up with reasons for having a not so optimal practice. It could be that I may be pushing myself too much. I have been in the dojo every night since last Friday, today being Wednesday. I wanted to practice with the sword with Anita sensei tomorrow night, but I will wait to see how I feel.

I can feel my body changing, toughening up somewhat. The muscle and joint pain lasted for days in the beginning, but now it lasts a couple of hours. The pain that I feel is largely self inflicted by either not rolling or falling properly. I can slowly feel myself becoming better at it, but like tonight the position that I am supposed to roll forward out of was very difficult. It was mostly because I was limited to one hand only, which is very difficult for me at my confidence level. Kim did some sort of forward flip without making contact with the tatami, only when she landed. I was in awe. They make it look so easy. They all wear hakama so it figures they have it down after practicing for years longer than me. The way I feel about it all is that I am almost positive I will continue to practice for many years to come, perhaps the rest of my life. I am trying to train without a specific goal except for improvement of self maybe. I guess I really want to become very good at it of course, and I have to remember all those wearing hakama started right where I am today, at the beginning.

le tigre & bianco

2008-04-07T00:20:00.002+02:00

I miss my bebe really bad. It seems almost surreal that I was in Milan just a couple of hours ago. I have just returned from a weekend in Milan for an Aikido seminar. I hope she is either laying down reading a book at Anna’s, or out having a good time with the Milanese from the dojo. in any case, I hope she is enjoying herself. I have a nice feeling she is. I left her rather quickly at linate aeroporto. We had been relaxing on the futon at Anna’s and ended up getting a really late start for the airport with public trans. Trans. We took a tram to the east of center, and then a 73 bus in the direction of the airport. We were worried that I was going to be too late for my flight, so we got off the bus to try to catch a taxi. Seems it is really difficult to just catch a taxi in Milan, it is usually more effective to call one ahead there. Allora, we decided to get on the next bus to the airport. I was almost sure at that point that I would not make it, but was trying to remain positive and relaxed. I ran ahead to try to find the check in counter, one wrong one, and then the right one, all running in one and a half inch heels. I got checked in and my bag too, and then we said our ciao amore’s quickly as I headed for the security. I blew her a kiss as I went out of sight into the security line. I ran to the gate and ended up having to wait to get on the bus to go to the plane. It was a quick flight and I caught the public trans just right so I didn’t have to wait to get home.

I wrote Thomas an sms to ask him to tell the aquanun that I made my flight and am home safely. I apologized for forgetting to say tot ziens to him and bas. He replied that he would tell the kroc my message and that several of the women from the dojo send their love. What a bunch of tough women he is hanging out with. I like Thomas; he has really nice energy and is a lot of fun to be around. I met a lot of new people from the Tsuda school from France and Italy. The women outnumbered the guys by a few. I had met three of the women from Milan in February at the workshop in Amsterdam. One of them, Elena, I felt that I connected with because she helped me a lot in the first weekend in hamsterdam. The Krok told a few of them that I was coming and they were surprised to hear I had been practicing since I began six weeks ago, but were scared for me when they learned I have been practicing at an Aikikai federation dojo. Federation schools are focused on the martial art aspect of aikido and are relatively hardcore.

I wish I could live and practice in Milan or Japan, either would be a dream come true. I like how the Tsuda school has retained the spiritual part of aikido, whereas it has become sort of like a life philosophy to me. I would like to try to do the respiratory practice every morning before work; I think I would feel more prepared for the day. Respiratory practice oversimplified is a stretching routine fused with coordinated respiration. I won’t get into what it all means, one has to experience it personally to understand it in depth. Or at least to understand enough to become interested to want to learn more. I felt really warmly welcomed by the Milanese and the entire weekend was an incredible experience I wont ever forget. I felt like I was with family almost immediately. The experiences of the weekend together were very deep in the dojo. Katsugen Undo this morning was amazing. I feel I am on a real high from it. I can’t wait to practice with them again soon.

I’m glad that I decided to volunteer to cook a dish for lunch after the workshop, since I ducked out feeling distraught over nothing the first time. We made a 500g pot of Daal. It was just enough I think, the pan was finished and several people complemented me on it. I am glad that everyone liked it.

My body feels relatively fine after practicing aikido and katsugen undo four times over three days. I feel full of energy and yet very relaxed and serene. Bed is calling so this wannabe samurai is going to heed it. ciao! a dopo!

aikicherrini

2008-03-16T13:43:00.002+01:00

Life has been rather hectic lately for lidl cherrini. I have been trying to work more hours, and to accomplish that I have been getting up earlier. I’m also trying to help myself to be able to get up early by going to bed somewhat earlier. It doesn’t always happen, but I am working on it. I have been practicing aikido in the evening on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Practicing aikido is sometimes a good workout; sometimes it is not so heavy. I have also been working on getting my taxes done for calendar year 2006, and then after I will get the 2007 taxes done. That is just the German taxes, though. I still have to get my taxes done for 2005, 2006 and 2007 for the states. My company supports the tax preparer fees, but it is not enough to cover all the costs. I have been also slowly working on my bike to try to get it back into shape. I bought and mounted a new light generator, and yesterday I fixed the right pedal crank pin. Now my pedal cranks are 180 degrees apart again. I still need to grease the chain and pump up the tires. I have also been working with my therapist and psychiatrist to get my psychological evaluation together for submittal to my health insurance.

I received the psychological evaluation on Friday the 14^th along with a bill for 750 euro. Then yesterday I received another bill from the psychiatrist for 1180 euro. I’m hoping my health insurance will reimburse me for the bills. If not I will be hosed for a couple of months financially. I also paid for translations that cost me 450 euro. I could have bought a used car for that money. oh well. Instead of getting depressed about my finances, I am trying to look at it as a positive that the document is finally finished and in my hands. I will deal with my health insurance tomorrow, and I hope it will go well. I should not be financially so stressed, but I guess the xmas holiday spending is taking its toll finally. After the first of the year all of my insurance and contracts renew, and with that comes the yearly fee. I had always chosen to pay it all at once just to have it out of the way and to not have to think about it anymore. January is always an expensive month.

The practice of aikido is very slowly getting my body into shape. After each practice, the strains and joint pain are becoming less and less. I got up early this morning and spoke with my Kr0k and then I went to the dojo. There was a group of people that were sitting in the lobby of the dojo drinking coffee and chatting. I assume that was the theater group Anita sensei spoke of. I had written a list of warm-up exercises to practice with little stick figures as reminders of how the movement is done. I started by expressing my gratitude to the shrine in the dojo. The first exercise was to run around the tatami three times. Then I went to the sunny end of the tatami and practiced a lot of stretches. I don’t feel that we warm up sufficiently at the regular practice sessions that I go to, and there isn’t any time between the classes to do it. I guess I could try to do it before at home, but I don’t always have time for anything other than grabbing my gi and running out the door.

I have not been practicing katsugen undo much in the past week. The aquanun was here last Sunday thru Thursday. We were able to practice aikido together and then afterwards we did katsugen undo together. I was able to clear my mind so much easier with her there. I sometimes have trouble keeping my mind focused on nothingness and feeling everything when I am alone doing k-u. I practiced some movements that we did in the last week, and then I practiced rolling. I can roll much better forwards than I can backwards. The rolls are simply the reverse of the other, but the body inertia is different somehow. I would have thought the forwards rolls would be difficult because of having to use your arm to direct the line of contact with the tatami. I worked out the line up to the point of my shoulder, but I fall apart after that point.

I will have to ask Anita sensei if she can show me a technique to practice for the backwards roll follow through. I am glad I went to the dojo today. I was alone and able to do the movements at my own pace. I practiced katsugen undo also afterwards. I can’t wait for the next opportunity to go to visit my company’s headquarters in Kyoto. It would make me feel really nice to be able to work as well as practice aikido there. I used to not like the hierarchy and structure of the Japanese working culture, but through practicing aikido my perception of it is not so oppressive anymore. I can somehow understand them a bit better now. I was hoping that I would maybe see some of the Japanese that work here at the dojo, but it is mostly all Germans. There has to be some people at the headquarters that practice. I found a dojo online in Kyoto somewhere, g-earth couldn’t find it though. It is a goal of mine to practice aikido somewhere in Japan in the future. I have been having an obsessive fantasy about getting a position at the headquarters just so I can practice aikido in Japan.

I guess I should not expect to become a samurai overnight. Such things just take time and perseverance. If for nothing else, I am able to go somewhere after working all day where I can shut out everything else and practice movements that make me feel good. I feel more balanced because of it. I feel more peaceful and calm in everyday situations, and therefore the stress doesn’t really get to me as it had in the past.

I wanna bake biscotti today and perhaps also get some sewing going too.

frankreich

2008-03-02T23:25:00.000+01:00

I’m on the ICE on the trip back from hamsterdam again. This weekend went by way to fast. I arrived on Friday night at 23.40 and then tracked the KR0c back to her lair and she made some cherrini bait. Cherrini didn’t go for the bait at first, but in the end, her hunger would not go unsatisfied. We finally fell asleep at about 3.30 am. I slept until noon and awoke to find the aquanun slipped away while I slumbered. She had to work, so I found out later when she came back home for a late breakfast. I had an egg with fried cauliflower and saatenbrot toast with almond butter. The kR0C had eggs with some green stuff fried beside it. I’m not sure what to make of her eating habits sometimes.

The nUN0I went back to work and I got showered and put on makeup. I burned the skin around and under my brows. I colored them on Friday morning before work and I think I put either too much developer drops or the skin was too clean. I think that it is recommended to color them in the morning after not washing the skin, so that the natural oils and moisturizers act to protect the skin from irritation. My brow area over both eyes is red and at times really itchy. I have never had this problem before, and it is really bad. I’ll have to be much more careful next time. Just writing about it is making me itch. I finished getting ready and went to do some shopping on the walk to meet the nUnO1 at work. I stopped for a quick coffee and then bought some purple animomi flowers at the bloemenmarkt, and then I went to Lush to get more soak and float shampoo to help with my scalp problems.

I arrived at paradise and the kRoC let me in to wait for her to be finished setting up the vj. We left to go to the vrankrijk to meet anus to set up the beamer and everything for later after the bands were finished. She was invited to vj with the dj after the bands were finished. As we were enjoying a bier and salted almonds, one of the organizers said to me, “so aquanun told me that you wanted to help out tonight?” I said, yeah sure, of course. My fiancé had volunteered me to work without telling me, and I had to find it out from the organizer even. No worries, I didn’t mind, she had to go back to work for a couple of hours anyway. We left and went back home to have some dinner. We both went back to the place and then separated. I was asked to collect glasses for the bar. I felt a bit uncomfortable at first because people were not so easy with letting me through the crowd to get the empties. I eventually got into it and everything went fine. Once the crowd saw what I was doing, they began to let me through easily and also put their empties on the stack. I’m proud of myself since I didn’t break any. I met a great number of the people in the KrOc’s circle of friends. It seemed everyone was having a nice night. I was too. I met lots of people that said they heard of me, but I hadn’t heard of them. She knows so many people. One woman introduced herself to me, and although she looked very familiar, I for sure hadn’t met her before. This morning I found that she was an identical twin of one of the organizers. That kinda tripped me out a bit.

This trip and the last one were both relatively hectic, with the aikido workshop last time and the vrankrijk party this time. The party last night was a benefit for Ladyfest in Rotterdam in the summer. There were four bands and el bandita and her girlfriend spinning in between bands. It was nice to be amongst a lot of feminist women and some were queer too I’m sure. I had to become like a cat to maneuver between all the people in the crowd whilst carrying lots of very breakable glass. I had fun and told the kRoc that it is ok to volunteer me to do stuff there if there is another occasion that I will be in town for.

We have such wonderful lovemaking together and are so into each other. I feel as though I am finally getting my life together, or maybe that things are just fitting better now? It makes me feel good woteva it is. With the aikido practice and katsugen undo together I am able to accomplish both physical and mental conditioning. Both combined have given me a new feeling of vitality and energy. I feel as though that the time was exactly right to begin practicing them both. I am also trying to make an effort to organize all my belongings in my apartment. I began sorting my clothes, and when I am through with that I will work on organizing my shoes. I have bought countless pairs of relatively expensive and good quality shoes that didn’t end up fitting right. I am contemplating selling them on ebay, to at least try to get some of the money that I spent on them back somehow. After the shoes, then I want to tackle my sewing supplies and fabrics. I am planning on making an inventory list in excel so that I can actually know what I have without searching through everything to find what I need. I will also have to contemplate what to do about renovating my apartment in anticipation of eventually moving out. I want to do what I can when I can to prevent having to do everything all at once, not to mention the money outlay.

I feel better now than I have felt for a very long time. I just don’t know how I will get everything done. It seems as though I have very little time to just sit around and do nothing. Work also promises to become a lot more demanding in the next bit of time. I am finishing the first project for vw and the next one has already started. The climate at work is rather bad at the moment, but I am remarkably better able to deal with it and not let it get me down so much as it has in the past. I did notice last week that after standing in between two people arguing and yelling at each other, I couldn’t help but absorb some of their negative energy. I tried to cleanse myself of it after lunch so that it didn’t ruin the rest of my day, but I guess I wasn’t strong enough to be able to do it yet. I felt not so nice that evening, and I should have practiced K-U but I had to work on organizing my paperwork for preparing my taxes. The next day I felt better again, except for learning that others had decided that I should go to Kassel the next day. Management by surprise is the best, trust me, it really keeps one on their toes. I feel much clearer mentally, which is a nice feeling to have. I am trying to use my positive energy to find balance within my life, and between my body and mind.

I am going to attempt to get into bed at a decent time tonight, as I must wash my hair in the morning and vw is supposed to be coming for the entire day to see the machine that I designed for them. The assembly went off without any major problems, and they were able to run it without problem up to 5000 revolutions per minute when I left on friday to go home. I hope they were able to get the rest of the program to run over the weekend. The machine is designed to be run at a maximum speed of 8000 rpm. I will be interested to find out how things went tomorrow. I hope everything stayed together. I am proud of myself that the machine was able to be run at relatively high speed immediately after being final assembled. I feel as though I met the challenge that I was presented with, and the challenge was not only the design itself, but also the negative milieu that I was forced to design it in. I am a strong woman, and I am finally beginning to realize it.

irrationalization

2008-02-29T23:16:00.000+01:00

I think these people are going to try to kick me out of my seats. I am being a bit greedy by hogging a whole table and four seats. They did it. oki. I am going to just ignore them. The two guys sat across from me and left the woman that they are with in a row of two seats alone. Not very nice to me. I can’t even stretch my fucking legs. Bastards! There are a lot of obnoxious people on this train that are already irritating me and we are only ten minutes into the journey. Sucky. I hope they get out in Koeln. It would seem these people don’t make it out much. The people on the other side of the aisle left the table free and the guys looked over and thought about moving but decided to stay and bother me. I moved so that I could at least stretch my legs. I have given them enough press already. I walked by a group of obviously American guys that were being really obnoxious. I don’t understand why Americans in Europe always seem to speak a lot louder and therefore automatically stand out. I think it is done on purpose to somehow let everyone in earshot to

I wish I would have had time to get some dinner. I’m really hungry. Thankfully I have lots of biscotti with me to munch on. I just hope there is some left when I get to hamsterdam. I have also two loaves of saatenbrot with me that I bought to feed the Kr0c with. She wants to chew on me real bad, and I am looking forward to it.

I’m listening to the beasties and it is giving me a bad attitude. I am wearing my black Katzenjammer Kabaret baby-T with a black city denim mini and striped over knee socks that the aQuanUn gave me with purple tights underneath, and to complete the look my black vogs boots. I feel nice and sexy and hope the kRoC likes it too. I’m fairly certain she will.

Oki, I just had to change trains completely. The first train out of Ffm was a total mess and then on the way to koeln the toilets stopped working completely. The Deutsche Bahn is really getting bad. At leas this time I didn’t have to stand in wind and rain in the middle of nowhere. I even had time to have a smoke in between. It was a hassle, but at least we left koeln on time even with the switch. The loud Americans as it turns out are more than likely soldiers. I have a feeling they will be looking at me every time one of them goes to get a bier or to the toilet. I’ve been through it before. maybe I should show some leg just to make it interesting for them.

I participated in my first aikido for beginner’s session last night with christiane. It was nice, and Anita sensei was very friendly and helpful. She asked me if I had done any aikido before, I confirmed, and she said that she could tell by how I was able to do the backwards rolling fall. I felt like I did in fact learn something at the workshop, and I felt more relaxed and therefore was able to really get the flow of the movements. I guess my Ki was flowing well. The partners that I practiced with were nice and concentrated as well. I took the chance and washed my new keikogi and let it air dry overnight. It shrunk quite a bit and ended up fitting relatively well. I just need to learn to tie my belt tighter so it doesn’t move and also fix my pants so that they don’t fall down. I ended sweating a bit which felt nice as well. Somehow I was able to sit in the kneeling position without a problem. I will go again on Monday night possibly also christiane will come too. I plan on going to practice at least three times a week, maybe more. I’ll see what is possible. It seems according to the schedule that I was given yesterday, that there are beginners sessions every weeknight. The schedule on the internet is more limited than the flyer she gave us last night. If it is true, that will be nice, since I may have other obligations, like psychotherapy for instance.

kasselerbraten

2008-02-28T23:14:00.000+01:00

I am on my way to VW Kassel again. I was told yesterday late morning that I won another trip to the chaos of the machine installation site. I have had so much to do lately both at work and privately. I am in the final stages of the process of submitting my request for coverage of the costs for surgery. I have had the chance to read the psychological evaluation in all its gory detail, and make comments and request revisions. I am thankful to have that opportunity. I also will be beginning aikido training tonight at the dojo around the corner from me. I have also been trying to get my bike back in order. I bought a low resistance generator so that I will have lights that work again. I am baking biscotti twice a week with lots of almonds and chocolate chips and with rice syrup instead of refined sugar.

Today went fairly well, I have made all my trains and they were on time as well. At VW all went good as well. I unloaded all the many kilos of screws that I smuggled in my bag to the guys installing my machines. We were a bit late to go to lunch so all that was left in the cafeteria to eat was a shitty salami pizza with way too much bell pepper on it. I hate bell pepper. Everyone was nice to me and in a good mood too. I will have to go back there next week to discuss the next project. The next project is a copy of what they are installing now. I got a nice bonus today, I found some missing special screws that we need badly for the machine that we are trying to assemble. Somehow they were shipped to site and were just lying around the test cell. We were discussing something else when the box caught my eye. There are still two other sets of screws that are missing so we just ordered more. So far it was a goed day.

I received my keikogi, japanese for training suit, yesterday night and I decided to take a chance and wash it. It seemed at first a bit large, but after doing some research online for tips from women on how to deal with the keikogi bagginess, I found a trick to get rid of some of the bulk. I am excited because tonight is the first beginner training session in which I will participate. Christiane is going to come with me hopefully. I spoke with her last night about it and she will meet me a half hour before so we can go there together. I am so glad that the aquanun asked me to go to the workshop in hamsterdam. I did some reading online that Itsuo Tsuda wrote. I found it interesting that he stated that one should not push others to do the respiratory practice, but to rather wait until one is ready to return to more of a natural existence and to seek knowledge of oneself. Then the respiratory practice will have the intended effect on the mind and body. I feel like I am exactly at that point. Since I have met the nuN01 I have been living somewhat healthier, and I have also out of frustration with my doctors decided to take my own health into my hands and to treat myself naturally. I am glad I did. The results make me feel really nice. The practice of katsugen undo and aikido are a nice complement to my new state of being. I am really looking forward to starting aikido tonight. I think I will do it three times a week if possible. I have already noticed a difference.

survival kit

2008-02-21T21:10:00.000+01:00

I survived yet another electrolysis session. She was rushing to get me finished because she didn’t plan enough time to be thorough. And as a consequence caused me more pain than normal. I also wanted to do my chest and around my areola but she told me she wouldn’t have time. It stung a bit when I thought about the last week walking around with relatively long hair, although scarce, but still noticeable at close proximity, between my breasts. I made sure to tell her to plan enough time next treatment to do my other areas.

I went to an aikido workshop last weekend in hamsterdam. The program was basically aikido for 1.5 hours, a 20 minute break, and then katsugen undo for 1.5 hours. The aikido was difficult on my body, especially my feet and knees. I was not used to having to sit in a kneeling position so therefore the skin on the tops of my feet and knees were raw and the muscles and tendons stretched too far. The katsugen undo was the main reason I went to the workshop. I made it through all of it without missing anything, so I have a nice sense of accomplishment. I should since it all brought me close to death and I survived it.

I was warned to be cautious with the katsugen undo because it has the potential to work against my transition. I did four sessions over the weekend and also in the past two nights here in my living room. I’m not totally sure if what I am feeling is from the katsugen undo already, but I seem to have a new approach to stressful situations. I have had three separate instances this week where someone called me totally stressed out and started to lay some shit on me. I was able somehow to shield myself from their projection. I was able to stay calm and cooperative and reassuring that we are doing the best we can and that it will work out. I don’t seriously think it will all work out, but I try to be positive anyway. I am able to accept things better, and to therefore not get stressed about things I cannot influence. I feel more of a sense of calm and peacefulness, and clarity that is scaring me.

for the first couple of days after the workshop I was wondering if I would continue the aikido. The katsugen undo I will continue for sure, as long as I don’t notice any problems. I decided yesterday that I would continue with the aikido, and tonight I realized why. aikido and katsugen undo seem to belong together somehow. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be part of a system that has masters one must answer to. I like to look at it as a teacher-student relationship, and not necessarily as an authority or dominate-submissive relationship. The focus was on feeling rather than thinking. Between my new found good health and now katsugen undo too, I feel so good and have so much energy.

There are lots of things I need to get accomplished so I am not going to have much free time or the next foreseeable future. I am thinking I might try to go to aikido three times a week and do katsugen undo when I have time in the evening or morning. I ordered a training kimono online yesterday from a place in Ffm. christi told me that she wanted to try aikido the last time I saw her. I want to get in touch with her this weekend to tell her my plans and to see if she still wants to do it. Even if she decides not to do it, I will continue. I am thankful for my girlfriend, that she has shown me the way. Grazie amore mio dolce.

I would like to write more but I have to cook dinner, eat, write two emails, and finish writing a script for the product line manager on the dual clutch machine I designed for vw. He will be reading my text in a video tomorrow with the machine that he knows nothing about. I guess he doesn’t have to when he has lackeys around like me. The original due date on the writing wasn’t until first week in march, then it was the 27^th, and this morning it became today. I started writing it at about noon and had to leave at four thirty with three quarters of a page. I need to write about the test procedures that the customer plans to perform with the machine. I should be really stressed but I am not, and that feels nice.

don’t let me forget to write about the ambulance mafia experience. ciao!

autostadt

2008-01-30T21:23:00.001+01:00

I am on a train to wolfsburg to visit VW with Fredi and Thilo. The last train we were on had a wifi hotspot. It didn’t work so well though and is really expensive. I think I will check into whether or not my internet service at home has the option to log on to the hotspots, because it is the same provider. I have the feeling it would end up being expensive and not very good quality. I want to check into I though just to see.

This is going to be a long day. I got up at 5.15 am and was at the bahnhof at 7.15 am, our train departed at 7.23 am. We will arrive in wolfsburg at 10.15 am, then we will be at VW werk for lunch and meetings and then our train home departs at 16.55. We will be back in darmstadt at 20.30. I hope we will make our train to go home on time. Fredi is always animated and very talkative, I am used to it, I just hope the rest today can hang.

I brought my laptop so that I could write while I have the idle time on the train. I also read through my psych evaluation this morning. I will have to read it a couple more times before I can really comprehend it. I understood what everything was that they wrote, but the general theme I need to understand better. It seems as though they may have sort of tailored my answers into a prescribed model of a classic genuine transsexual. There are lots of inaccuracies that I will have to correct. My sexual history at first seemed incorrect, but now that I have read the rest, I think their focus on my contextual homosexuality was just setting up a premise for their later conclusions. I will probably correct the factual mistakes and then try to discuss with them if there is a strategy to their formulation of the document. I can say that the results and conclusions and recommendations are all positive and hopefully will be enough to get me approved for the insurance to pay for my surgery.

I was just standing outside the wolfsburg bahnhof smoking and there was a blonde girl there also smoking. She reminded me of sophia with her platinum hair and the color of her skin. I was reminded of how envious of the girls that I dated I was. I liked being with them and found it comforting, but I always harbored jealousy or envy that they were born female and I wasn’t. I loved it when they dressed up nice to go out somewhere, but that was when my jealousy would peak. I wanted so badly to be able to put on that stereotypical little black dress with nice stockings and heels and to look and feel elegant. I wanted to be the arm candy.

Even though it is sometimes difficult to come to terms with my gender transition, I am very glad that I finally decided to get off my dead ass and to do something constructive about it. Now I am the arm candy like I always wanted to be. The way I feel now goes beyond the mere cliché of arm candy though. When I dress up wearing a dress and stockings, rarely heels, I feel so nice and sexy and elegant. I enjoy the feeling that I get when I feel like I am all put together. The feeling is sort of confirmation for me that I am a female in spirit, and now also in body as well, or real close anyway.

It’s difficult to explain the way living as a female makes me feel. I have for most of my life secretly envied other females for simply being female. I wanted to be female so badly, it was just about killing me inside. In retrospect, I wonder why I didn’t act on the desire sooner. I knew it for years that I was a transsexual. Perhaps fear was the stifling factor. It seems ridiculous to me now that I somehow tried to live with such feelings, even knowing full well that they were not ever going to go away. I have the feeling that I have already covered this ground perhaps many times in the past on this blog. But a coherent description or explanation of my exact feelings eludes me. It has always been difficult for me to put into words how I feel, but I definitely think trying helps a lot.

I took way too much time away from my writing; it has become very obvious to me. I miss the dialog that I have with myself and how it helps me to understand what goes on in my life and the world around me. I will try to keep this going at the frequency that I used to blog in the beginning. It is also an incentive that my nUN01 thoroughly enjoys reading my writing. So I will try to keep on track.

The visit at vw went well, we actually got out of there earlier than planned, an extra bonus. I got to see the machines that I designed that are in the process of being installed. They look nice and clean and new. After a week of running tests they will turn all grey after being covered with a fine fog of transmission oil and dust. I was warned today that I will probably have to go to kassel again to visit vw there, where the other test machines are being installed. They want to change the design of the cable canals that are already installed. A bit late I think. They will have to pay for that one for sure. I have developed and aversion to visiting the customers in kassel. One of them did send an email with praise for me that I listen to them and I am flexible and oriented on their needs. To me customer satisfaction and their trust in my abilities are my main objectives in designing my machines.

I need to make some more jeans. I want to design some nice cropped pairs and also some flared and some with cargo pockets. I like all the skirts that I have made recently, but I also want to make a pencil skirt. I think that would make me feel extra sexy. I am sick of having to wear the control shorts that I use to bind my genitals. I only need to wear it when I wear a skirt because it flattens the area of where a bulge could show. It’s very restrictive and to look at me when I am wearing it, it looks and feels as though I don’t have any external genitalia. I tuck my oversized clit (penis) and labia (scrotum) between my legs and the testes go into little pockets above my penis. All very neat and tidy. Just like the transmen burn their breast binders after having their breasts removed, I will burn my control shorts after I have surgery. I can’t wait for that day to come, and it should come soon.

man am I in love…

evaluation obscura

2008-01-29T00:09:00.000+01:00

I went to Ffm today to meet with my therapist to submit the paperwork that I had to collect. I had a letter from my endocrinologist, urologist, physician, self assessment, and the letter I sent to my extended family. I had to have the self assessment and the family letter translated into german by a woman in vienna. german always reads a bit cold to me, no matter how well it is written. She did a good job, but it is costing me a lot. I probably should have got a second opinion on the cost. Oh well, what’s done is done. I will know better next time. Both versions will be submitted.

He handed me a copy of the report to read and give feedback on. I had to refresh his memory about the amount of time it could take until I have srs from the point the evaluation is submitted. The timing of course depends on a positive judgment by the MDK. 12 months worst case. He seemed a bit too convinced that I will get approval, he started telling me how often I should visit with a shrink after surgery as if it was already in the bag. I just want the paperwork to be submitted already. The time that it will take to get a yay or a nay from the MDK is also stressful waiting time. I should start to prepare myself for a possible negative answer. I’m not quite sure what plan b looks like yet, but I had better come up with something.

We started discussing why I have been down in the dumps lately. I tried to explain to him that I feel like parts of my life are in a static state. I told him I became depressed after I returned to work after vacation. Being hit with the raging chaos at work, further delays by him, winter grayness, and relationship ripples were on my mind. I tried again to make him understand that my mobility is greatly limited if I want to continue with the health insurance route I am derailed on. I will begin to plan my future once I have a surgery date. Since I have no control of the timing, I have to sit and try to wait patiently. I don’t like very much not being able to plan my life. I got frustrated and started tearing up, so I changed the subject to my physical healthcare problems. Something positive in my life at least to talk about other than the NUn01. I knew before going there that I wouldn’t be able to get through to him, I tried anyway and then gave up. It wasn’t worth me getting upset about something I can nothing about.

I began reading the evaluation and became irritated that there were so many errors in my biographical information, not limited to simple in context math mistakes. For example, my father’s birth year was incorrect, but the year he died and his age were correct. If you are able to do simple subtraction in your head you can easily notice the numbers don’t work out. Reading my sexual history made me angry too. It seemed they focused way too much on the homosexual experiences that I had before transition. They just kinda breezed over my heterosexual experiences as if they were a trivial note. If you would have asked me back then how I identified back then, I would have said heterosexual in theory, but bisexual in behavior. I still contend that the only times I ever did anything with men was when I was cross-dressed, and there was a reason for that. I knew they would want to treat me like a female and want to have sex with me as an exchange for their affection. I guess that was my only outlet where I could receive affirmation of my inner feelings. You can believe me if I had the choice to be with a woman in that situation I would have preferred it. I usually felt disgusted with myself after doing something sexually with men. I did get aroused, but I think that when one has testosterone coursing through their viens, sex is sex. It doesn’t matter with who or what, as long as the desire has been satisfied. I have always had a guilty feeling about the men I had sex with because it never felt entirely right to me. I had always felt entirely comfortable with most of the women I had relationships with. The closest thing that I ever had with anyone remotely male in terms of a period of time longer than a night was with rita. She doesn’t count though because she was like me. I have always been a girl who fancies other girls. I will have to write a more accurate account of my sexual history for them and correct all the factual mistakes.

On a different theme, there is a pet peeve of mine that I have been meaning to get out. I get very irritated when I see someone wearing an obviously expensive suit jacket, and you can tell it is expensive by the maker’s label still basted on the sleeve. People that buy expensive suit jackets that don’t know enough that the label comes off before wearing are too ignorant to deserve wearing such a quality garment. I feel better that I got that off my chest.

wetwesterwerk

2008-01-28T09:07:00.000+01:00

I’m on my way back from dutchyland once again. I did another one nighter with the nuNO1. the first time was when we first started seeing each other last july. that time we went to a queer pirate party in scheveningen. this time was in osnabruck. an old friend of the nUNo1 invited her to come and play at an autonomous space where they had techno dj’s and a room with punk too. the djs played old school techno that reminded me of the raves in detroit ten years ago. I noticed that my tolerance for throbbing bass is not so good anymore. maybe it was because I wasn’t dancing? dunno. anyway, I had a goed time with my girlfriend. she drove the banana van and I took several sucky trains, with the last hour being the worst.

I’m listening to the dead kennedys since I am wearing my tough boots, I figure I should live the part. I haven’t showered today, and last night I slept a few hours in the van outside the venue. After she and UlI picked me up from the bahnhof, we had to set up the screens and the beamer at the venue. the screen proved to be not such a problem, but we needed a beamer hanging board since there was no place to set it on to get the projection size to fit. we got everything set up and then went to get something to eat at osna donner. we had pizza and HoLg had a donner teller that looked very delicious and quite large. the guys running the place were both relatively dark skinned with long jet black hair. they looked really suave like the guy at haso.

we had to pick a cable after dinner and then went back to the venue to start playing. By 12.30 the place really started to fill up. It seemed as though there were a lot of relatively young people there, or maybe I’m just getting old. it was fun just the same. her friends were really cool and fun. They really know how to throw a party. we had all the stuff we could drink given to us, but I only had a half a beck’s. I think I went to bed at 2 and then the vidnone joined me an hour or so later. I was warm enough and slept very well for the time that I managed to get in. She drove for a while at first and then I drove us into hamsterdam. I kinda messed up with the driving and we had to switch right quick before a tram tried to ram us. we had some time before she had to start work, so we went to DeBalie for a coffee and a chat.

The NunO1 went to work and I went to centraal station to buy my ticket to get home tonight. I caught a tram to the station that was full of french guys, or at least that is the way it seemed. I got there and the number I drew was up next and it took no time at all to get the ticket. I got a coffee and a cinnamon bun and headed for the tram back to leidseplein. I tried to get on the tram with the coffee in my hand and the conductor just about had a conniption fit and told me to get off. I finished it while the rest of the people boarded, and then got on. I ate the cinnamon bun on the walk over to paradise where my baba was.

she finished her set up and then we went to fuel up and bring the van back to its favorite parking space at the noorderdok. we put some fuel in at the filling station owned and run by women. they always have their fuel a few cents lower than other stations. we got back to the parking spot just as the ferry was about to shove off. We cleaned up a bit and kissed some while we waited for the next one. We took a tram to the damned together and we said ciao in the foyer of her building. It was too bad we didn’t have more time together. I went up to her place and made myself some old cheese eggs, saatenbrot toast, and some coffee. I am addicted to saatenbrot. I left her a short note since I couldn’t send an sms since I forgot my phone at home. I was a bit lonely there because there didn’t seem to be any one else home. no emos. jade was laying in a puddle of her own urine in the hall. I wondered where her mother was. It wasn’t jade’s fault, a dog can only hold it for so long before it has to go. her mother should pay better attention to her.

I had a smoke and then it was time to catch a tram to centraal station. I made it there in time to get a bottle of water and chocomel. I almost went for another coffee, but opted to have a quick smoke and get a coffee once on the train. My reserved seat was the very first seat in the cockpit directly behind the driver. the whole first car was almost totally empty, so I decided to sit a table since my original seat was in wagen 21 seat 11. too many unlucky numbers for me to chance. So here I sit writing about my weekend drinking my chocomel and thinking about my baba. I miss her already.

our dynamic works very well most of the time and therefore we are able to work together quite well. we are able to really make anything work when we are in tune with each other. sometimes we’re not so in tune, but that is to be expected I suppose. things can’t go perfect all the time, that would be too idealistic to expect. it seems as though even through our problems our love for each other continues to evolve and become stronger, and therefore we become ever more attached. she inspires me to want to take chances and not live such a safe life. I have always been able to think for myself, but sometimes I had a difficult time setting the thought into motion.

this past week I have been trying to find time to write a list of all the things I need to get taken care of, but I still haven’t managed to get to writing it. I wanted also to bake some biscotti this weekend, but since I went to meet my kRoc I will have to postpone the activity until some night this week. Now that I have interest in cooking there are lots of things I want to try my hand at making myself. I can’t wait until I can start eating potatoes again. I often don’t even think about potatoes anymore since I haven’t been eating them. I found out the nice hot shrimp soup from the chinese grocery has lots of MSG in it. not nice like. I think I will try to make my own noodles and spice them with miso paste and ground red chili peppers. I should try to find a recipe for my favorite super spicy thai coconut soup. Usually I have it with chicken when I eat it out, but I could make it with tofu I suppose.

I have been trying lately to show my strength as a woman, especially with the love of my life. I have to change my tendency toward submissiveness, as it is not possible for me to agree with everything she says, and when I don’t then I need to say so. I am working on it. She thinks that she can push cherrini around, but she aint so tough, and I think sometimes I am tougher than her. I am tough.

osnamsterdamned

2008-01-26T18:33:00.000+01:00

I am on an ICE on my way to dortmund where I will change trains and ride on to osnabruck to meet NuN01, I hope. I hope that she will have no problem with her van on her way to get me. We really haven’t driven the van since we went to berlin in the beginning of oktober. We had some problems with the headlights not working so well. In fact it was burning up fuses, or melting them at least. I ended up driving most of the way back to amsterdam while giuliana slept. We had a nice time that trip except that we were fighting for part of it and I got sick. It is not so easy between us, even now. We try not to make things complicated, but I think whereas I still have a penis makes a difference somehow. It just gets in the way. It makes me feel really good that we communicate well, and sometimes argue, but when all is said and done we still love each other very much. We are working on solutions to our differences which I find also very positive. positivissimo.

This was sort of an unplanned trip today. Sort of a spur of the moment type thing. I wanted to invite helmut and christiane and marion to dinner tonight originally. But I decided I would spend time and money to be with my kroc. I instead invited helmut and christiane over to my place last night for dinner. Marion is since two weeks back in french guyana on a business trip. I decided to make a red aubergine sauce with whole wheat pasta and fenchel salad with olive oil. I was a bit out of it to begin with the cooking. I made a big mess with frying the aubergines as usual. I didn’t make nearly enough to make a really good sauce. The sauce was so-so, but I finally broke out my wine carafe with the wide bottom that maximizes the surface area of the wine to maximize the aeration. It worked very well.

After dinner I served espresso and helmut and christiane had a small glass of ouzo and I had a shot of grappa. I broke out my old stainless steel bialetti that I haven’t used in a few years. It worked fine. We sat around the table drinking coffee and smoking and bullshitting about capitalism and how it has destroyed germany since the wall came down. After we finished with the coffee, helmut opened the second bottle of wine. The first bottle was finished with dinner; a nice bottle of rijoha from the region of crianza 2003 was the vintage. The second bottle was a bottle of merlot from ernest and julio gallo also 2003 vintage which I received as a birthday gift from the jerk walter that gave me so much trouble a year and a half ago. I swore the next day after he gave it to me that I would crack it open the day that he was to leave us for good. He sort of just disappeared one day and no one really even noticed he was not there. I was a bit skeptical as I usually am with american wines, but after it breathed a bit it tasted just fine. it wasn’t as good as the rijoha, but it was nice just the same.

Last night was the first time in two and a half years that I have been living in my apartment that christiane has come by. I guess I never invited her for whateva reason. Perhaps I was a bit put off by marion telling me that I made a mistake deciding to rent the place that I did. marion hadn’t been there since the first time she came to see the place. I have been going over their place usually for dinner every once in a while. I was happy to have them over and to entertain. It was a very nice time. We killed the second bottle of wine at 12.30 and they left me at 1.00 to go home.

crack flavoured coconut

2008-01-23T23:00:00.000+01:00

I just cracked a coconut on the kitchen floor to harvest its meat, but not before drinking its milk. you can tell a fresh one by how much air it takes in when you open one of its eyes. alnatura has the best coconuts around. lekker. i eat a coconut a week, when I am able to find them. Nun01 showed me how to crack them. luckily the buildings are all concrete here, so smashing the coconut on the kitchen floor is very effective and only damages the coconut. this one was really hard to crack. I won though, in the end.

I guess I will die healthy, or healthier. I’m not sure. I have been drinking very little alcohol, mostly limited to a glass of red wine and rarely a beer. I drink lots of really strong coffee out of tiny cups. since the nuNo1 is idddalian, coffee has become an essential part of life. thank the dog for bialetti moka express espresso makers. its so temping to overdose on espresso cause it tastes so goooood. I have been experimenting with making soy lattes, yummy.

a couple of weeks ago I experimented with a recipe for indian style lentils. I was impressed with myself that I had all the spices required. it called for cinnamon, ground cumin, turmeric, ground extra hot red chili, cardamom, and cloves. I used beluga lentils cause they are so black and wonderful tasting. it had just the right amount of heat, but I will double up on the other spices next time. I also tried to make chipati or papadams. they were really tasty. they had lots of fresh ground black pepper and garlic. I ate the lentils over a few days for dinner and every day I got better at rolling the papadams. I enjoyed that dish very much. the papadams were the most difficult part.

I haven’t bought any meat to cook in a long time. I usually eat just veggies and/or tofu. i eat meat at lunch at work for the protein. I have eaten potatoes only twice in the past seven weeks. for breakfast I have been eating self mixed musli, consisting of; rolled kamut, rolled rice, sliced almonds, coconut slivers, and some raisins for a bit of sweetness. I eat it alternately with unsweetened and sometimes sweetened soy milk. I like to eat some toast with almond butter too, saatenbrot is the good stuff. it is full of seeds and whole grains and totally brown. I have to toast it a couple of times until it gets the right crispiness. and of course a really nice cup of lavazza espresso to go with it.

I have lost lots of weight over the past several months. I was always typically floating between 165 and 170lbs for the past two or three years. I am down to 150lbs. over the past two weeks I have been 150 and 154, depending. I have lost most of my body fat. I like how my body looks, but I know if I go any lower, I will not be well. I haven’t been trying to lose any weight, it has just sort of been going away on its own. I eat three meals a day, every day. I try really hard not to skip any meals. its amazing how many calories of sugar an average person like me ate on a daily basis. you don’t really notice it until its gone. the weight loss started when I had problems with my intestinal flora dying off. the flora is now alive and well and I try to support it as best I can. I learned that having a healthy gut also means having a strong immune system.

tonight was supposed to be a list writing night of all the things I need to take care of in the next bit of time. things seem to be piling up. I decided that I can’t have much influence on the chaos at work, but I can manage it in my private life. I am nearing finally having my paperwork to apply for surgery. I have been waiting on it for many, many months now. my therpist is still dragging his feet big time. it seems as though my evaluation is the most difficult thing he has had to compose in his career. I was promised to have the documents in hand before xmas, then january 9, then january 14, then january 28, now it seems I will get it by the end of february. one can probably guess that I am not at all happy with the situation.

since I have been back home and working again after five weeks vacation, i have become very depressed. things hadn’t been going exactly well on the relationship front either. we are working on things together and I am convinced that we will find solutions. we love each other very much and have trouble being separated from each other. thank the dog for skype video calls. and the calls are free. I seriously doubt that our realtionship would have survived this long if it weren’t for video calls. I know it helps me a lot to be able to see her, even if I am not able to touch her.

I was in a deep funk the past two weeks. I was sick with some sort of virus the week I started back at work. I missed two days that week. I was relieved to not be traveling anymore and to be back in my place for a bit. but I missed being with the aquanun. there were some issues that were eating at me, and we had a discussion when she came to visit me. we weren’t really able to solve anything at that particular moment, but at least we both had a chance to express ourselves and to get a better understanding of how we are both feeling. communication is very essential, especially when you’re dealing with krocodiles.

I have been discouraged by the fact that some very important parts of my life have been static. namely the surgery evaluation and my job. I went to a kickoff meeting for the new order from VW, and it started almost exactly as the previous one. chaotic. too many questionable issues that the guy who sold it couldn’t answer. the answers will surely be costly ones. I have a trip scheduled with fredi and thilo for next wednesday to go to VW in wolfsburg. the factory there is like a small city. everything VW. a positive point from the previous project is the cutting edge design that I engineered. the machine is in the final stages of assembly on our shop floor. I am anxious to see it run up to full speed to see if it stays together. it should. if it works, it will be the only machine of its kind, at least in any of the auto manufacturers’arsenal of testing equipment. that design again challenged my engineering skills, and I am proud of the results.

it may be because I am down that I notice more people being insensitive to me and my gender. just yesterday I was making a latte in the cafeteria and one of the sometimes friendly staff walked by and I said what the germans say at lunchtime, and she said the same thing back ending with “der herr”, which means “the man” instead of “die damen”. I get kicked sometimes when I try to be nice to others. she was undoubtedly not even paying attention to me and her autopilot decided because of my voice I was a male. I have been trying to simply avoid those persons that do not respect me. sometimes trying to be nice only gets returned with something negative.

I was in amsterdam last weekend with the crocomelious. once the storm on friday night blew over, we had a nice time together. we watched a nice movie about gay cowboys. we drank some nice rosso di montalcino, and ate bimi broccoli with pasta and a nice fennel salad. I also helped the bleeding nun wash lots of dishes for four hours and was disintegrated by the time it was over. I haven’t worked that hard in a while. it was an idddalian restaurant so I pigged out on the biscotti and coffee. we also ate some nice thai food and bought some really nice gay pink tulips. I also got some good olive oil and almond butter and probiotics too.

I am going to end this now and go to bed. rest assured that I will be posting more in the future. I have this nice black new thinkpad to do damage with. I got the one you can go swimming with. not really, but woteva. I like it. I have some writing that I did on a newer trial version of word that I will post if I can figure out a way to read them again. I have no excuses now. I am in love…deeply

finding balance

2008-01-13T19:41:00.000+01:00

Historical note:I wrote this on the train to hamsterdam on the 29^th of December ‘07 with the aquanun that I got for xmas in July by my side. It doesn’t quite end in any particular way, but for want of posting, I’m cutting some corners…

I have been on the candida diet for a month now and I feel so much better in lots of ways. I haven’t been exposed to a lot of stress either, which also helps. I have so much more energy than in the past months. The biggest indication that I my immune system is getting stronger is the fact that after being in an airplane four times, including two international flights, I did not get a sinus infection. In the past, I could almost bet on becoming sick after exposing myself to the contaminated air in an airplane. The fact that I don’t feel at all sick is the best feeling in the world. The diet is really paying off, and having Nun01 doing the diet with me helped me stay on track. She’s the best crocomel eva!!!!

It was extra difficult to find the correct foods in the states to allow me to continue my homeopathic treatment. The worst disappointment was the lack of soy yoghurt. Yofu from alpro soja is the best, and anyone who has eaten it will surely agree. I did find a milk culture drink call Kefir that was comparable to the probiotics that I use in the dry form that I bought in the natural food shop in Amsterdam. The food in the states has become so expensive since I was there a year ago. Then again, I mostly ate out last year so maybe it was then too, but I didn’t notice. I shopped mostly at Trader Joe’s where I found some natural foods without sugar, but the selection was not so spectacular.

My daily treatment regimen is as follows:

25 drops of symbioflor morning and night

15 drops of grapefruit seed extract morning and night

2 capsules of capryllic acid morning and night

1 capsule of zinc plus vitamin C mornings

1 packet of magnesium dissolved in water mornings

1 glass of probiotics mornings

And no sugars!!!! I have been eating mostly vegetables and lots of variations of soy products. My doc even commented the last time I went to visit her that my total cholesterol was relatively low. I then explained to her that I wasn’t taking the simvastatin anymore and relying only on my diet. She seemed pleased in her own way. I was happy that she was satisfied.

In the beginning of doing the diet I was disappointed with the limited selection of foods that are allowed to be eaten. But as time has passed, I have become accustomed to what I can and can’t eat. The hardest time I had was when I went to a supermarket in Massachusetts. I got all cranky because I looked at a package of wheat and gluten free ginger snaps only to find that it had brown sugar in the ingredients. There were lots of soy and rice milk there, but we couldn’t find an unsweetened one. The only place that we found it was at tj’s.

NuN01 made lots of food and I tried to help out as much as possible. Xmas with the whole family was a lot of fun. She made some nice home made pasta with mushroom cream sauce. I did cheat a bit on my diet, but just for that one day. There were far too many nice sweets to pass by. I tried to look at it as a reward for not eating any sugar the whole month before. I spoke with my aunt ann about the diet, and she told me she tried but couldn’t do it. It had been too difficult for her. I told her what I was doing as far as treatments and she said that I was doing everything I could possibly do.

candida camera

2007-11-10T12:24:00.000+01:00

I am a walking yeast infection. This has become apparent to me after identifying a pattern in my health conditions over the last few months. I have chronic sinus infections, the cause being unknown by my doctors for many years. Lately I have been having throat pain and serious fatigue. I had taken antibiotics to help the first time it happened, two months ago. The antibiotics disturbed my intestinal flora and caused problems I won’t mention. My tongue is yellowish-white. All the research that I have done all points to a Candida yeast overgrowth in my body. If I am to believe all my various symptoms are related, a treatment would improve my health substantially. My immune system needs a boost, but that it not so easy to achieve. The eczema on my scalp and other places on my body could possibly be caused by Candida overgrowth.

I have had bouts of any number of the symptoms for over ten years. It all seems to make sense now. I am apprehensive that all of my health problems are related to Candida infection, but I have too many of the symptoms that are commonly from it. The throat pain is a newer manifestation of it. It seems that stress definitely plays a role, with it having a large influence on the immune system. I was thinking about how I need to be able to deal with stress at work. I reflected on the week that had just passed and realized that I get too worked up about things and need to cool it. I have to try to not let things bother me as they have, and somehow remain calm. It has become difficult as the chaos factor at work is peaking. If I am more conscious of my problems and where they come from I am sure I will have a better chance to control my emotion and therefore stress levels.

Treatment for Candida problems seem three fold. Controlling stress, diet, and anti fungal medication. The diet is centered on the elimination sugar. Complex sugars are ok to a certain extent, limited to ones high in fiber content. Toasted whole grain and seed breads are good. Alcohol is to be reduced or eliminated, and anything containing yeast. Vegetables and other high fiber foods are the mainstay of the diet.

I think I have been suffering from extremer versions of the Candida infections. It is more than likely caused by weakened immune system due to stress and led me to burnout. I have an appointment for a physical exam this week, at which point I will discuss my research with my doc. She also does homeopathic medicine, so I’m hoping she will have a thorough understanding of my problem. I hope… It makes me feel good when I think about the possibility of being set free from my annoying health problems. The anti fungal medication is probably the only risky part of treatment, so I think I will try the anti-stress approach at work and with the diet I am already 50% there. I haven’t cooked any meat as long as I have been cooking again for myself. Cutting out haribo sour beans is going to be difficult. I would like to try the treatment including the medication, optimal would be that there is an herbal alternative med available.

I cringe when I think about all the time lost from being fatigued over the last year. Not to mention all the toxins that are potentially released by a poorly functioning digestive tract. It is all a vicious downward spiral. I have the hope that I can feel healthy again someday soon.

seitan man, seitan

2007-10-28T20:12:00.000+01:00

I am becoming so proud of myself. I have started actually cooking for myself again. I guess I shouldn’t let someone else decide what goes into the food I eat. I should be able to decide that. I have been cooking exclusively vegetarian dishes. I was introduced to seitan by someone very dear to me, and now I can’t get enough. Seitan is a universal meat like product that is completely made of plants. It doesn’t take flavoring very easily, so I am trying different types of marinades. The other night I made mustard crusted seitan with sautéed zucchini/carrots/mushrooms and sweet potato fries. I fried the battered seitan pieces in a skillet with palm oil, but the batter came off in some places. I think I have another idea how to do the batter better.

Cause mama’s gonna make us cake!

Tonight I made a nice lentil stew. I was in the mood for something Indian-like and I need some probiotics, I cooked with a bit of yoghurt. I was a bit unsure of how much to put in, but it worked out very yummy. The stuff I put in was carrots, potato, green beans, red lentils, Padilla lentils, and brown mushrooms. For the seasoning I used a half and onion, ginger chunks, minced garlic, six cloves, thyme, cumin, olive oil, and miso paste. I let it simmer for an hour and a half until all the veggies were cooked firm. I made jasmine rice with a bit of olive oil and turmeric to give it a yellow color. I also threw in some yoghurt this time which has opened my eyes to that unique taste that some Indian dishes have. It was a very nice combination, but the stew will need more seasoning next time. I have enough left over to eat two more times, and I’m sure the spices will be better the next time I eat it. I had a nice rheinhessen dry red wine with it. I finished with a coffee and grappa. I feel nice.

I have been thinking about whether I could be able to simulate French meat pie with seitan or tofu. I know the spices and the cooking sequence, but I will need to get creative with the first step. I have mimi’s meat grinder, so no worries about the hardware. The meat depended on a bit of fat, but I don’t know how to substitute it. Olive oil maybe? The pie crust I can make with veggie shortening.

I want to try making orange ginger seitan soon. Like orange ginger duck without the foul. I can buy several different forms of seitan, but I think I might want to learn how to make my own. I imagine it would be better if the spices were mixed in with it when it is made.

I haven’t eaten a frozen pizza since a couple of months now. Just about the only time I eat meat anymore is at lunch in the cafeteria at work. The cornflake chicken breast, sauerbraten, roast pork, and sometimes even duck. The food there is really fattening, so I try not to overdo it.

I was invited to see Susanne Vega in concert last Monday night in Amsterdam by a very sweet reptilian. I had never seen her in concert before, but I realized that I knew most of her songs from the radio enough to sing along. She gave a very nice performance. The crocomel really liked I could tell. Her delight was very nice to be a part of.

I drink lots of herbal tea and my coffee in small but potent little cups. I love my bialettis. I scored 4 nice red wine glasses at real,- yesterday for 9 euro. They have an updated version of the old green stamps from the 70s that you can use to get the glassware. I think the next thing will be a wine decanter.

Buying shoes has sort of a comforting effect on me. Maybe its instinctual, that I have warm and durable boots for winter. I broke down and ordered two pairs of black lace up boots from fluevog in the states. I miss having a pair of vogs. I can’t wait until they arrive. Now I just have to make some clothes to wear them with. That will be soon.

I managed to file all my paperwork today that apparently I haven’t organized since May. I washed all the laundry too. I want to do the dishes and then maybe vacuum also. I think washing my body will have to wait for tomorrow.

I have tested my dirtiness limits in the recent past. I went three days without a shower. I did brush the teeth and wash the face daily, and baby wipes help with certain places. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but my skin did dry out pretty bad. That week I went seven days without washing my hair. I can take it, but my scalp can’t. I need to wash with tar soap every three days, but I usually go four or five days. I have gotten so lazy when it comes to my hair. It’s getting quite long again and I just don’t feel like dealing.

chico and the man

2007-10-28T12:05:00.000+01:00

I am filled with all kinds of crazy energy. I miss writing. I realize now that I have to write to feel ok. I have been keeping notes here and there in my paper journal, but it’s not the same. There has been so much to write about, but I haven’t had the ambition to do anything. I plan on cleaning my apartment today since I really haven’t cleaned well in two months. four out of the last eight weeks were spent away and I was fighting yet more health problems.

I had taken antibiotics to help me get rid of the nagging tonsillitis that wouldn’t seem to go away on its own. The antibiotics upset the balance of my intestinal flora and as a result my digestive system didn’t work anymore. I lost all my normal water weight and felt weak all the time. I have eaten lots of yoghurt and yoghurt cultures to attempt to get myself back in order. The original sickness started as a sinus infection and then evolved into tonsillitis, and then gastroenteritis. The tonsillitis was apparently caused by an imbalance in the bacteria in my throat and tongue. I had a yellow tongue for a couple of weeks. Normally the body will be able to get the balance back naturally. My job stresses led to burnout and I guess the recovery is going to take more than a couple of months.

I often long to find a hair from her in my stuff when I get home and unpack. I’m sure there are lots of hairs from me everywhere for her to find. It may seem silly and insignificant, but for some reason I quietly obsess over it. Little things that remind me of her. Maybe its because it is an actual piece of her that I would be able to touch when distance separates us.

I was promised that I will have my evaluations for surgery in hand before the December holidays. I hope to have everything I need to apply and submit it all before xmas. I still need to get examinations by the endocrinologist, urologist, and my physician. I had to write a self assessment for my therapist to illustrate my understanding of the risks and impact that sex reassignment surgery could have on me. Some of the issues that I had to write about were very upsetting. I wrote the document over a week, struggling with things I didn’t want to think about and then having to put the feelings into words was not fun. In the end I had four pages of mostly raw emotion. Two weeks after submitting it I had to make a couple of corrections and clarifications. While trying to eliminate a vague sentence, I decided on a totally different thought and instead of one sentence I had three. I still feel it is a bit scatterbrained, probably because it is just lots of feelings. It is not so easy to arrange feeling into neat categories. My therapist and all that have read it have given me very positive feedback. I almost want to go back and edit it again, but I think i will just try to leave it alone. It’s done. Finito

I don’t necessarily enjoy reading my own writing, but it seems that those that read it seem to like it. Writing is something that I have always excelled in whether it be technical or creative. I usually have a little fear that I won’t know what to write when I set out to write something. I try to compromise with myself to get the process in motion. I will usually start by just writing random thoughts which act like little incisions. The words and thoughts then come trickling out like the crimson blood that flows from the incisions. Not all of what I write I would describe so metaphorically. I have thought about putting some effort into a serious writing project of some kind, something publishable. The problem is that I don’t have an idea of what to write about. It was suggested by my therapist that I could write my transition memoirs, but that is a fairly mundane topic to me. I would like more to write about sex/gender/queer/trans as I experience it today. Most of the trans books that I am reading or have read are all ten years or older. The world is a much different place now than it was ten years ago. I guess the danger is always that the content would be outdated as soon as it is published.

I have been experiencing a different side of the world that I find very stimulating. I have spent lots of time in the underground or underwater as the case may be. Its sort of like liberalist extremism in some ways. But the difference to me between conservative extremism and liberalist is to inflict injury on the system by using its own means against it. This sort of life living demands constant action, however small, to keep pushing for real change. it is no longer a life of convenience and consumerism, but one of vigilance. It is no longer acceptable to me to just let the conditions of the world just wash over me without doing anything about what is wrong with it. Cutting dependence on meat, supporting only just companies, and lending a hand where needed. Small steps to freedom.

I had a debate recently about shoplifting, or taking back from the man what is yours. I have met some people recently that believe that shoplifting is a form of protest. I haven’t made up my mind of how I feel about it. I wouldn’t do it because I don’t feel I need to, and I don’t like the risk of losing my personal freedom, even for the few hours it takes to get booked.

More to come. Amore.

insecurity

2007-09-08T01:21:00.000+02:00

What is security? That is what I have been thinking about lately. I have also been thinking about my boundaries. About what is really important, and what is really bullshit. I spend so much of my life working to “secure my future” that I don’t have any time to enjoy my present. I think that if I keep going this way there will be no future to be secure in for me. Because I will die before, or like my dad, mere months after I retire. Won’t even be able to enjoy what I slaved for years to secure. It is completely absurd.

I feel like I am a prisoner of my own jail. I have made it to a window blackened with dirt, and was able to clean part of it enough to sneak a glimpse at the people who are relatively free. Free-er than me in any case. i am getting more and more bitter about how I treat myself. I am so psychologically fucked up that I put my job before my health. That is wrong and I am ashamed that I can admit that. It is time to make some changes in my life.

The changes have already begun. If I can imagine a different way of living, I can also achieve it. I know this. I have proved to myself that if I want something enough to do for myself, I can make it happen. I must get a new job. That is a major step, and a very necessary one. My first priority has been to have surgery as soon as possible. I have wasted almost a year to obtain only the paperwork to apply for it. I had even considered staying in my current job until surgery which is frighteningly desperate. I am almost certain that I would probably hurt myself somehow before surgery day comes. Either by working myself until burnout or getting so depressed and doing a concrete high dive.

It is difficult for me to break free of my chains. It will be a slow process, but I am getting a better idea of where I want to be. Right now I am approximately happy 10% of the time and angry, depressed, sick, or all of the above 90% of the time. That has to change. I would like to get to happy at least 50% of the time. Relatively speaking that is a dream at this point. I will be working on it. I want to know what it feels like to “sit on the couch”.

The time has never been better for me to change jobs. There is a big shortage of engineers in Europe at the moment. It is a seller’s market right now. I already have one invitation for an interview in the Netherlands. The company doesn’t totally interest me, but what have I got to lose? Nothing to lose but everything to gain. I also have another interesting lead to follow, that seems like a really good opportunity. I shall see.

There is still hope.

i feel so

2007-09-03T23:26:00.000+02:00

blah tonight. My throat has been bothering me for two weeks now. I thought it was gone, but it is still here. I’m sure it is the stress from work manifesting itself as illness. The blame game was started today over the vw project and how it went down the tubes. Engineering is always to blame because we actually produce something other than paper and we have a budget and schedule to try to stick to. I have been working on two projects that were always way behind schedule because both had unrealistic delivery times. Work sucks when you are always trying to get something finished that is already late. It has been almost a year since I started working constant overtime. I did have a break over Christmas that allowed me the time to regenerate and to catch a glimpse of how well I can feel. Within six weeks I had a sinus infection. I have been off and on sick for months.

When I wake in the morning my throat feels sore. My tonsils get sore and it becomes hard to swallow. I am assuming at this point that they will be removed soon. I am wondering if they could have been causing the sinus problems. I went last week to have them looked at and the doc did a throat culture to check for strep throat. The culture was negative. I read online that tonsillitis should go away on it’s own in two weeks if it isn’t from strep. I hope it goes away soon. I spoke with my boss about my sickness and told him that I have denied many times my doc’s offers to write me off sick. I told him that when everything is ordered for vw I will take a week sick and a week of free time compensation. He agreed and also told me that he and the next boss were talking about how I have been working overtime for many months and it shouldn’t be. But it is.

I am also wondering if I am seriously ill and I just don’t know it yet. I suppose I will find out. I have an appointment with my doc for this Thursday. I go for shots tomorrow. It will be a long day.

I am happy that I am in love with someone special. We comfort each other which feels nice. I hope that we can be together again soon. I hope that I will have two weeks off really soon. I would like to spend some days sleeping and sewing in between. Just to know I don’t have to think about work at all. And only think of snaring me a crocodile.

:::inspired:::

2007-08-26T22:28:00.000+02:00

Have you ever met someone so right and completely wrong at the same time? I have, and she has become someone very special to me. We’ll call her n0.

I think it best if I write about how she makes me feel, and you will probably get a feel for her without me saying anything directly about her.

The title ::inspired:: means a lot to me. Inspired means sitting in a tiny old brown bar with a mind blowing assortment of bier listening to nice jazz. Inspired means taking long walks home in the middle of the night after a nice party. Inspired means being a freak surrounded by other freaks.

She has inspired me to think about things from a different perspective, in that I am reassessing what is really important to me and my future. I am finally able to see that my job is destroying my health and need to change that. She is helping me realize that being autonomous means taking constant responsibility for myself and my actions and how they affect the world around me. I am inspired to take an active roll in improving myself both mentally and physically, not for her, but for me. She has reminded me that I have to want to do things for myself and no one else. If I am happy because I am doing things for myself, she will be able to enjoy me being a happy person. Happy people are nice to be around.

She has inspired me to buy apples and bananas when I am hungry instead of burger king. I am slowly cutting animal products out my diet. I want to stop taking the statins for my cholesterol, and eating vegetarian will help with that. I am think I will finally stick with it this time. I think the only exception will be cheese and condensed milk for my coffee, maybe. There are many very yummy things that come from plants, like vanilla yofu and leberwurst.

She has inspired me to challenge myself to really take an active roll in determining my future and helped me find more energy where I didn’t know I had it to pursue my dreams and make them reality. She has helped me become more open to new and different ideas and challenge my preconceptions about many things. She is helping me to discover my own formula for personal peace and happiness.

She is helping me see that I am a strong woman and that I can and should be proud of what I have achieved. She is showing me that others see me as a beautiful person, in contrast to how I see myself. I am challenging myself to be as honest as possible, which is really not difficult at all. Communication is absolutely vital, and has been enlightening. We have discussed difficult things and were not always able to find solutions, but at least we try to explore possibilities that could lead to solutions.

I draw strength and inspiration to go further from within myself through her. I am inspired by her examples of how she lives and her life choices. I strive to be someday as strong as she is. But then again smell isn’t everything. Just kidding.

I am so thankful to have come to know her as I have. She truly is someone special. I want to shout her name from the rooftop. She has reminded me that I must love myself first before I can love her. I knew many of these things already, but somehow she is showing me how to turn thought into action. My relationship with her is a very uplifting experience for me.

It’s very refreshing to me to be in a situation where I am with someone and yet I am inspired to be more independent. I used to think that wasn’t possible, but now I see that it is and it is a beautiful experience. She is right; it is easier to come together when we are doing our own things. Where have you been all my life n0?

She is helping me rescue myself for and from myself.

This is just the beginning.

halfway

2007-07-19T23:56:00.000+02:00

I have passed my blogging two year mark. This will be my 156th post. Not too shabby. I only have one blogless month. Slacker. This blog is older than me!

Things are looking up in my private life, but my work life is getting suckier everyday. I want to move to the Netherlands. Finding a job is going to be the hard part. Jen read my blog and commented to me that she noticed I was the happiest when I was in Amsterdam. She asked me what was keeping me here and pointed out that there isn’t much according to my writing. She is right. The only thing that is keeping me here is employment which sucks, and my friends Helmi, Mari und Christi. They and the rest of the people I know would understand if I left. It’s not like I’m moving back to the states or anything. I’m not sure at this point if I will ever go back. I’m relatively sure that moving to the Netherlands would be a good decision. Why the fuck not? I wouldn’t have to worry too much about continuing treatment there.

I was thinking that I should probably look for a job while I am waiting for my evaluations and the eventual decision from my health insurance about paying for my surgery. If it is positive, I would stay to have it completed. I have invested too much time in my treatment here to walk away now. I need only maybe six more months of electrolysis to be completely clear. If all goes well with obtaining the evaluations, I can expect to receive a decision by January ’08.

If it is a negative decision, then I will probably flip out, and move away. I should just get moving now and save the time and the flip out. I have a feeling I may be going sooner than I think. Most people that I have had the chance to talk to in Amsterdam ask me “why don’t you live here?” Almost everyone has asked me that same question. I know it wouldn’t be a bed of roses in the Netherlands, but at least I would be able to visit the city more often. I have been lazy about looking for jobs there. I should get on it. I had a good experience with a headhunter to find my current job twelve years ago. If anything it is a chance to tap into a larger network.

I was in Amsterdam again this past weekend for just about twenty fours. Technically I was in Scheveningen too for a good portion of those short hours. I got to slam dance to Elle Bandita, and watch some new friends having fun rolling down sand dunes. It was all too much fun. I paid for all the fun with a sinus infection over the past few days. I am feeling better today; I think my sickness has broken. If I could do it all again I would, multiple times. I had the most wonderful experiences there that I will never forget.

I had a dream the other night that I fell into the Voorburgwalsgracht and was swimming to avoid being hit by the canal boats. I got all caught up in fishing net and started to sink. Then a talking crocodile swam under me and caught me on its tail and pulled me to a safe spot where the water wasn’t so dirty. The crocodile told me it saw the whole thing go down, and it wanted to devour me at first sight, but then it realized how helpless I was and decided to get me out of there. The croc got me free of the net and then told me as I was treading water, “now that you are free, you have five seconds head start to swim to that ladder over there, and then I will be coming to devour you.” “I like my prey to be a challenge,” it said baring its teeth with a sinister chuckle. I suddenly realized it wasn’t joking so I started swimming for my life. I turned to look back and it was getting dangerously close, I could see its big brown eyes staring me down almost paralyzing me. I managed to get my right hand on the first rung and was swinging the left around when I felt warmth just above my left hip. Just as I felt the teeth sinking into my flesh, I woke up and it was over. I didn’t actually feel any pain; it felt more like a jolt that awoke me, like the falling sensation. In thinking about the dream, I realized there is no canal on voorburgwal, it has a tram line on it. And crocs aren’t very common to see in the canals, much less talking ones with a taste for chrissy. I get chills when I think about the dream. Crazy stuff. I think that’s enough for now. I am going to sleep and to dream no doubt of canals and crocodiles.

softcore westerns

2007-07-08T13:33:00.000+02:00

I am running my life like a crazy person lately. For just about the last year I have going through cycles of where I work myself half to death and then take a too short vacation. The demands that work has put on my time and nerves is becoming too much. Sometimes I feel so low that it seems all I have is my work. That is the sad truth however. When I sit here and think about the performance on the job that I am expected to deliver, it boggles my mind. Doesn’t anyone realize how overwhelmed I am most of the time? The VW project has had five people alone from mechanical engineering working on it. I have been trying to put out the fires so that the rest can get the manufacturing documentation completed. I am never able to finish anything before I must stomp out the next flaming bag of shit.

In the end I am just a victim of poor planning. The last project that I got shit on with wasted a year and a half of time leaving me six months to complete what would normally take eight. So much was riding on that project and it was so terribly mismanaged. That has become unfortunately a common occurrence. Internal projects don’t hurt so much, whereas customer projects like Audi and VW are too important to fuck up. It bothers me that all the things on my plate don’t get fully eaten. It seems as though everyone that I work with has become so accustomed to doing more with less that we have lost sight of what a normal work environment operates like. We desperately need to hire people, both to replace those who are leaving or have left, and all the people that were laid off.

I have been trying to keep the customer happy by showing them results. The customer lost three months in their ordering process, but they refused to change their schedule to accommodate the loss of time. I was already three months behind the eight ball before the project even started. It might be slightly easier to handle if I was given a raise at my last review.

I want more time to enjoy my life. I am very frustrated. I will be going to work a bit later, after I have finished washing my clothes. It has done nothing but rain for the past several weeks, and it figures today is a nice sunny day. It is almost 20 degrees warmer than it has been within the last couple of days. I guess I will have to look out my window if I want to enjoy it at all.

There are sewing projects that I want to work on but have no energy left over to even begin them. It’s not fair that my company puts extraordinary demands on me that leave me depressed, stressed and tired most of the time. The pattern has been repeated two times so far. The first time was leading up to Xmas where I felt like a zombie ending up in Kyoto for a week long design review. The next time was when Rach came to visit in march. Both times I got sick upon stopping to go on vacation.

I wonder if the reason that I found the blonde redhead and sonic youth gigs not so good was because I was depressed. I know that depression a factor, but it leads me to see it as my losing the parts of my life that I am supposed to be able to enjoy. Most of it but not all is due to my job. The other things are frustration with my slow moving treatment and feelings of loneliness.

On a high note, I have been invited to go to a’dam for gay pride on the first weekend in August. You rock G! I am really excited about the trip. A’dam has turned into an oasis of sorts for me. I go there more or at least about as often as I go back to the states. Four hours on a train is much easier than eight hours on a plane after all. I naturally find the city so enjoyable because I am just there to hang out. The last trip was rather utopian in nature, and it opened up new worlds for me. The amount and diversity of things to do and see there are simply overwhelming. And the mindset of the people there is for the most part refreshingly open. The subculture there is thriving. That’s where I like to spend my time, underwater as it may be. I am so excited, but a little nervous too. I am curious what this coming trip has up it’s sleeve. The pride weekend in a’dam is famed for its boat parade, but most of all for the parties that ensue. I hope to be able to relax for some time while I am there too, but I’m not sure that is going to happen. I could probably take a couple of days after and stay on the coast. I could wave to my sisters on the beach on the other side of the atlantic. But that would blow my cover, and massive guilt trips would follow.

I definitely want to buy fabrics at the cyup(sp) markt this time. I should probably bring my large suitcase half full so I have a place for the booty to take home. They have fabrics all the time that are here only seasonal. They had a much larger selection and at much better prices than anyplace around germany. It’s all good.

I’m going to wash now and then drag my sorry ass to work. I am getting dangerously close to the two year mark of my blogging madness.

zusammenreißen

2007-07-03T23:30:00.000+02:00

I have been a total wreck for the past several weeks. I am not able to tell if my levels are screwed up, or if just all the work stress and private stress is getting to me. Could I finally be losing my mind? I have been crying way too much. I think it all started downhill the last time I went to therapy and got more bad news. I’ve noticed a pattern. I have been only going to therapy once a month since I was waiting for hours to be approved. I go there feeling alright and then the bad news drags me down. It then takes me the next four weeks to crawl out of the depression, and then it’s time to go back for more bad news and delays.

I desperately need to get a grip. The episode from last week still stings. The project that I spent the last two years working on and was moved here to do, and completed, I received no verbal credit for my efforts at the product launch. Talk about being shit on.

I did receive an email from my therapist over the weekend stating that the hours were finally approved. I received the confirmation letter from my health insurance. I got 25 hours. Eight of which goes toward covering the hours on credit and the writing of evaluations. If all goes well, I could possibly have my evaluations in hand within six weeks. That’s an optimistic estimate. I am glad that he is working on the evaluation, but I can’t help but to feel skeptical.

Thanks G! You totally brightened my day. You are certainly more than enuff, and where I come from, too much is never enuff.

I have no choice but to try keep myself together.

sacrifice

2007-07-02T00:10:00.000+02:00

It seems in order to be able to love yourself; one sometimes must give up the possibility of being loved by another. That is the sacrifice. Is loving yourself enough to sustain? I think not. What I have done to enable me to love myself has alienated me from the human race. I am an exception, and no one likes exceptions. Am I too tall? Not convincing enough? A novelty? Is my transsexuality enough to render me utterly unattractive?

I’ve been thinking about looking for a high risk job. One that pays a lot of money with a high risk of being killed on the job. I find it more and more difficult to name something worth living for. The depth of loneliness that I feel reminds me of how I felt in my teen years. I had suicidal thoughts back then too. I had breakdowns every so often. I hid them well. The lingering ache of despair is still with me. The only thing I have ever been good at is my work, and even that has turned to shit.

I’m not sure if I am going to continue writing. What’s the point? There is none, and apparently there never was.

dissed

2007-06-29T21:40:00.000+02:00

I got totally dissed at work yesterday. My company was hosting an open house for our customers and launched many new products over the past two days. One of the products was the machine I was the lead mechanical engineer on, and the original concept was mine. If one were to have read my posts from the last year and a half or so, you would know just how much of me that I lost fighting my way through that project. Yesterday was the german speaking day and they planned the unveiling of the machine at 4.30p. My entire former department was there, I invited myself since no one else did. The group manager that I had so many problems with in the last part of the project gave a speech about the new machine, and at the end of his drivel he thanked the team members by name. He mentioned everyone except me. That was a total diss! Some of my colleagues turned and looked at me with a questioning look on their faces. I started to get pissed so I left and went for a smoke. Helmi was trying to calm me down. He even mentioned the temp that is a total kiss ass and a terrible engineer. The costs in the end are less than the market leader’s. I would say that is an accomplishment that I share a large part of the credit for, and I wasn’t even acknowledged.

I spoke with my boss afterwards about what just happened. he told me that the gm. that just fucked me over ruined my name with upper management. He told them that I blocked all attempts to save costs in my design. He told them that I couldn’t make deadlines. He said I am not capable of managing a project on my own. He played judge and jury over one small portion of my 12 year career. I have no choice now but to leave. I am getting totally fucked, with sand mixed in. I gave up a lot of my free time to make that machine happen and to have it ready for the open house. I want badly to make an appointment with the president to present my side of the story. It won’t do any good though, so I’m not even going to bother.

I prepared and gave a presentation to VW in kassel on Wednesday. I stayed up until 12.30 the night before to put the presentation together. I had made snapshots of the machines to put on the slides before I left work. I got all of it organized and the pictures placed. It ended up being 27 slides long. I planned my hair washing f0or the day before so I could save some time that morning. I woke up looking all pasty with little bags under my eyes, blah. I got ready fairly quickly, in under an hour. I wore my favorite H&M skirt suit with a lavender blouse. I left with time to spare because I had to carry a beamer, a laptop, and the project binder. The laptop and binder weighed a ton. I was lucky I was on the platform having a smoke and a coffee before boarding because the conductor had the train leave five minutes EARLY! I’m usually the type of person that has to run to catch her trains. If I would have been a few minutes later and still on time, I would have missed that train through no fault of my own. I made the ICE in Ffm and searched for the project manager. He was sitting in the car where I had my seat reserved. I sat at a table and worked on my presentation the whole ride. It was exactly enough time. I was glad that there was a long cab ride to the facility. The facility smells like gear lube oil inside. Most of their xmissions are manufactured in kassel.

We were joined by the R&D department manager for most of the day. The presentation went fairly smoothly, and I was able to answer most of their questions. They asked for an electronic copy of the presentation, which I gladly gave them. My project manager told me beforehand that the presentation would be a stress session because the customer wasn’t convinced that one of the machines will work. I assume that their concern was expressed to the dept manager and that’s why he took part in the presentation, to make his mind up for himself. He asked a few questions and that was it. Either my PM was exaggerating or I was able to convince them that it will work. I felt good that it went so smoothly. I am getting really good at putting together presentations in short order. Pictures help a lot. People like colorful things. The pm gave me complements to my boss for my being well prepared and convincing before the customer. I was complemented one minute and kicked in the teeth the next.

I did get to see K from the UK yesterday though. He stuck his head up over the partition at my desk and said my name . I turned to see who it was and he instantly brought a smile to my face. I miss him. We worked together the first summer I spent here in DA. We went out and drank many a beer together that summer. I only get to see him every so often, so it is always a treat. He and his new bride invited me to come to the UK before I transitioned on the job. I wasn’t sure if the offer still stood, but he was one of the few who wrote me after reading the letter that I sent to all of my English speaking colleagues. He was standing by my side at the launch when I got dissed. I saw him on my way home and we chatted for about a half hour outside the canteen where apparently there was a buffet for all those who were involved with the two days of events. H came down the steps and saw me talking to K, so she came over. She told me that the asshole realized as soon as his speech was over that he had forgotten to mention my name, and that he felt embarrassed and would apologize to me today. I didn’t get an apology today. A few people told me that they told him that they didn’t think it was right that he didn’t say my name too.

It was good at leas to see K again. This was the first time he has seen me live since I made the switch. He asked me again when I was coming to visit. I told him that I had thought about coming to visit, but I wasn’t sure if the offer still stood. He told me that he wasn’t sure either, and that he wanted to see me in person again before making the offer again. At least he was honest. He commented that he found me to be more outgoing and generally happier than in the past. That made me feel good. He said the ideal time would be to come in August. I clicked with his wife when I met her in the states. We sat on the couch at her sister’s house and talked for a while. She’s cool, and he’s cool too. I definitely want to plan a trip there in August.

I bought some new sneaks online through ebay. I scored some really fly pink and white adidas gazelles. I always wanted to get a pair back in the late 80’s when I was into hip hop. Most of the white hip hoppers preferred the red or the blue ones. It took 20 years (that’s scary that I can say that) but I will finally get my gazelles. I also bought a pair of chocolate brown suede retro adidas track sneakers. I have a black suede pair of them already. Adidas is about the only producer that makes a women’s size over 41. Their 42 2/3 size fits me perfect. I only had two pairs of sneakers, with both being black and white.

I went to see my endo on Monday morning. I asked him if there was anything he could do hormonally to foster more breast growth. He suggested that I apply an estrogen gel once a day in addition to my regular shots. He told me that my estrogen level after one month on a higher dose was 274. Beforehand it was only 41. I experienced a growth spurt that was prompted by the higher dose, but it didn’t continue for very long. I am anxious to see if the gel will help also with my moodiness. My moodiness has been mostly caused by all the shit that I have been dealing with lately. I am getting so fed up with everything. I feel like fighting instead of flying these days.

hope less

2007-06-20T00:00:00.000+02:00

I will be another year older at the end of the week. I realized today after my therapy session that I will more than likely be sitting here on my next birthday still without surgery. My therapist insists on waiting to write my evaluation for surgery until after the next block of hours are approved. In a nutshell: he took four months to submit request for more hours, his request was outright denied by the lunatic evaluator (six weeks), he wrote an appeal (six weeks), the uber evaluator is now down to questioning nomenclature, sends letter to my therapist (four weeks), Therapist writes letter to evaluator (today). 16+6+6+4=32 weeks. For 8 months my therapist has been bungling his way in a lame attempt at getting more hours.

8 fucking months! I think he is stalling so that I will give up on my health insurance and pay through the nose to have him write the paper. That is the point that I am at right now, I am almost ready to just take the hit and pay for it, just to get it over with. Waiting for my health insurance to make up their mind is killing me. The latest letter doesn’t question my transsexuality at all, in fact it doesn’t even recognize the fact that throughout my course of treatment including before and after surgery, I am required to be in therapy. It’s the law, actually. I feel like I am dealing with total incompetence. I know more about the law than the doctors who are supposed to administer according to it. That fact gives me so much hope. The letter also read that they were suggesting that I don’t need therapy at all, and fifteen minutes a month with my doctor would be sufficient. That actually would be sufficient. The only times I have become unstable in the recent past is when I have gone to visit him, and continually get bad news.

Both my therapist and psychiatrist said they would write the documents I need to apply for surgery. I just apparently have to piss away more of my life waiting for them to get it done. I made an appointment with my psychiatrist for the middle of July to get him moving again. That I have accepted I will have to pay for. I should probably just pay and get it finished. Then I will stop going to therapy altogether. I do get something out of the therapy, but what little I do get is not worth all the hassle. It’s all bullshit anyway. I have helped myself more than therapy ever has. Fuck it! I guess I will be poor for a couple of months.

The ongoing disappointments have really started to mess with my head. I was in the bathroom at Konstablewache sitting in the stall peeing thinking about how I could get things moving. The thought ran across my mind of injuring my genitals so they would have no choice but to perform the surgery. That thought scared me. I haven’t had thoughts like that in years. I think one could say that I am already mutilating myself and the surgery will be the last straw. I have taken hormones to mutate my body, and I do electrolysis to remove my hair.

I also fantasized about dropping out of society. Sell everything and go live in a squat somewhere. Maybe a’dam. I want so badly to break free from the chains that I bind myself with. I stick to a dead end job so that I have national health insurance that is more expensive than in the states, so I can visit a lame therapist who is supposed to approve me for surgery so that the insurance will pay for it. Paying for it myself is not a viable option because I don’t have that kind of money. I had that money back in 2004, but I bought a house instead of a neo vagina. If I was smarter, I would have saved all that money and just rented, because it was imminent that my ex would eventually leave me anyway. What’s done is done. Now I am poor, and still without my neo vagina. The surgery isn’t so important that I will finally have what I want; but more so it represents a new beginning to my life. I will be able to move on without having to worry so much about treatment. I could move to somewhere else in Europe or go back home and start over again with nothing. The point is I will be able to do that, whereas I am holding myself back to get through without going into debt.

Then I thought about being a non-op and just moving on anyway. That option would probably require castration if I am to continue living the female gender role. I can’t take the massive dose of hormones I am on forever. Eventually, somehow, the twins have to go away. I feel like the challenge is to swim through a cesspool to get the prize at the other end. I am wondering if all that shit is really worth the prize. My life won’t be any different after as it is now, depressing. I feel waves of sadness running through my body, and warm tears running down my cheek. It’s time for sleep.

maimed

2007-06-18T23:58:00.000+02:00

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)

ahoy matey!

2007-06-14T23:21:00.000+02:00

I am an aunt once again! My sister J. and her partner D. had a bouncing baby girl. All are well thankfully. Congratulations! I want pictures!

And now for something completely different:

I remembered the name of the club in Boston with the dungeon. It was called Quest. I only went there once in 93 or 94, and I was with Donna at the time. I’ve been on a psychobilly kick for a few days now since I made the mariner’s star. Here’s a shot of it:

I have been listening to mostly punk rock lately as an outlet for my frustration of my lack of companionship. I should try not to place too much importance on codependence. It’s just difficult after being alone for so long. I’m sick of it. The psychobilly music reminded me of s&m, I wrote something about my fear of it in a previous post. Then I realized tonight on the way to electrolysis that I am somewhat masochistic in that I have paid for close to four years of ritual pain sessions. I guess what separates me from a true masochist is that I don’t like pain. Feeling no pain is certainly better. I think my pain threshold has been steadily decreasing. She cleared everything in 88 minutes today. The last time was 117 minutes. Things got extra excruciating around my lips, I even had the pleasure of hearing some of them sizzle. Those usually make me shudder uncontrollably. I can’t believe I am almost finished. I should be completely finished by October. Nobody should have to go through that much pain. The health insurance should cover novacane or some other pain management treatment, anything better than emla. It’s inhumane. I think my skin has built up a tolerance to emla. Just about every one is in varying degrees painful. My razor’s days are numbered. I plan on throwing it off my balcony to the tracks below and let the tram run it over. I feel like the life has been sucked out of me tonight, so I’m gonna hit the sack

blowout

2007-06-13T07:28:00.000+02:00

Lat night I spontaneously decided to go to the Villa to see a garage/trash punk show. I was searching the internet for psychobilly graphics and info and ran across the wreckingpit. I checked their concert listings and viola! The first two shows for germany were right here in my little home away from home, and the doors were opening as I was reading it. I had intended on working some more on a sweat jacket I have been designing. I made a mariner’s star out of black and red thick felt that will be placed in the center back. I guess I can work on it tonight.

The first band was Kamikatze, a chick band from Sweden. They rocked! They were all trashy 80’s punk. I don’t think I have to worry about whether I look punk rock or not, as I was dressed very similar to the Katzen. Chick rock is the best. The crowd was small, only about 40 people max, and most to look at them, their appearance would never lead you to think they were punks. The second band was the Boston Chinks. They rocked too, and would end up being my favorite. And then Jay Reatard played. They rocked, but the chinks were better. Jay was made up of several members of the chinks, but they had a little bit different sound. I brought ear plugs but didn’t use them, silly me. My ears are still fucked up seven hours later. I really need to mind the decibels next time. I couldn’t help smiling watching the people in the front row going nuts. One girl was dancing and every so often falling into the people to the side of her. If there were more people, they probably would have been slamming. Punk rock shows are the only place where you can fall or run into people while dancing and it actually adds to the experience. The crowd was relatively sedate, but then again it was only a Tuesday night.

A Tuesday night. It was nice to get out and I found the music was quite good at relieving some stress and frustration. I think there might have been some aggression mixed in there too. Some guy wearing a black flag T kept looking at me kind funny like. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. The Kamikatze are the kind of girls I would like to date, I’ve decided. Being into punk in some way is a trait that I think is important in a partner. What fun would it be if she wasn’t?

I got my injections yesterday and on my left side I think she didn’t go in deep enough. The estradiol felt like someone put a hot poker in between my muscles, searing me from the inside out. I can still feel it. I felt nice afterward, and the crampiness from the past couple of days is gone. Cramps suck!

not sure...but

2007-06-10T15:34:00.000+02:00

I want to take some time and write about my observations and thoughts on my experiences of the past several weeks specifically and also some general stuff. I’m glad I feel like writing again, for a time there I had no ambition to do anything. Then I turned all my ambition toward sewing, and thankfully so.

Right now I am experiencing a particularly bothersome skin problem. I’m not sure what causes it. I have had similar breakouts before, but never knowing for sure of the cause. I have patches of what would seem to be eczema all over my thighs, torso, neck, ear, scalp, and the corner of my jaw. I was worried at first it might be shingles, but that usually only affects one major nerve bundle, and therefore only one side of the body. I have patches on both sides. The weather has been quite humid, and sweating can be painful. Uncle J used to get something similar when he came in contact with petroleum, which was a show stopper for him because he was an engineer on tanker ships. I have never had it as bad as him, if that is what I am experiencing. I have been wondering if it could be a reaction from the fabric dyes or sizing, as I have been sewing a lot. I considered obtaining a pair of cotton gloves for sewing, because my fingers break out when I work with a lot of indigo dyed fabrics. I also wonder if it could be from the sizing on the viscose jerseys, because some of the tops I made I didn’t have time to wash before wearing the first time. My skin doc gave me a salve that is like Vaseline which seems to help, and I think that steroids would be a last resort. I am tempted to put some cortisone on it, but again the steroid factor scares me. I hope it goes away soon.

On to more interesting things other than my skin rebellion. My own skin doesn’t want me, blah.

Through my latest experiences in the GLBTIQ community (yes it has all those letters now), I have gathered more observances from the transman side of things, to sort of balance out my experiences within the trans community as a whole. This observation may seem a bit mundane, but it has a deeper affect on my situation that I am just beginning to realize. I could be dead wrong on this, but I am open to discussion. I should probably get some statistics but here goes; the majority of the transwomen I know of were more heterosexually oriented before transition, and from what most of I have read and seen of the transmen, they came from more lesbian backgrounds. I realize these are gross over simplifications, I also think it could depend on the types of live experiences I have been exposed to. Again these are just assumptions based on personal experience and by no means an attempt to put everyone in neat little boxes.

I am partly jealous of the transmen because they are well accepted and allied within the lesbian community, and I as a transqueerchick am not. I realize it has to do with my past and present male-ness, and lesbians by definition prefer women exclusively. I also realize that my acceptance wouldn’t be any better even after surgery, because after all no one can tell either way if I have been fixed when I am clothed, and I never leave the house unclothed. I think the limitation of tolerance only as rule is probably due to political correct-ness, and nothing more than a token. Or it could be that I really am the only transqueerchick ballsy enough to go to such events and it catches them off guard, like the times in the past when I was the only white face in the crowd. There have been many times in my life where I have been the only exception. I’m not sure what this means, other than indicating a lonely existence. I guess I have a bad habit or the bad luck of always trying to fit in where I don’t usually belong.

I don’t feel and never have, a connection to the gay male community. Most of the gay men I have been exposed to were ones that like shemales and were not in any way out. I can’t ever really remember being attracted to a man, other than maybe Johnny Depp, if I make it with a man it has to be him. My ex used to fear that I was gay, or would eventually decide I was gay and leave her. The irony is that in the context of my life today, I am gay, just not in the way she feared. But either way it means rejection for one of us; one way I would leave her for a man, the other way I would still want her but she wouldn’t be interested in me anymore. Even though I had some homosexual experiences as a male, I never felt anything other than sexual gratification from it. It also made me feel guilty and dirty afterwards. I had felt that I betrayed myself and let myself be used by a creepy guy.

I am glad that I have persevered and pushed myself to go to lesbian events to get some cultural experience. I guess I could look at it this way, the events that would have more value would be ones that don’t involve any dancing, but rather purely cultural, like the reading that I went to the other night called “Damen in Doppelpack” (double pack of women). The focus there was on the reading, and it didn’t matter if I was there or not. One of the authors thought it did matter that I was there, and that is what she penned with her signing my copy of mein lesbisches auge 4 (my lesbian eye #4). Sometimes I feel as though I am going out of bounds, but what I am I supposed to do? Thankfully I haven’t had any run-ins with hardcore second wavers, and if anyone has had a problem with me has kept it to themselves. I am also aware of the intolerance some lesbians have toward trans people in general of either gender identity.

Both Feminism and Patriarchy reinforce the binary gender dichotomy. It is clear that trans people are eating away at the foundations of both philosophies. The feminist literature that I have read offers a fairly accurate analysis of patriarchal exploits of women and children. The solutions offered are mostly going in the right direction, but with major flaws as they apply to today’s society. I also realize the texts were being written as I was just coming into this world.

I find that if people take the time to talk to me they for the most part tend to like me. Kinda like “oh, it is even able to speak too?” I like being nice to other people, and it makes me feel especially good if I am able to make them smile. Everyone has to do what they have to do, so why not try to help each other out once in a while? Little things that take little effort, but can really cheer someone up for a few seconds at least.

Since I have switched gender roles I have been exposed to, for lack of a better term, the sisterhood of women. It’s hard to describe exactly what it feels like, but it is very comforting. My experience reminds me of the SNL skit where Eddie Murphy turns himself into a white man and gets everything he wants for free because he is white, exposing him to a world he could never know because he was really a black man. That skit is the best. I draw the parallel that me being born a male was like Eddie Murphy being born black, whereas the white world to him is the female world to me. What I am trying to describe is that the basic connection between women is so much more pronounced than it is with men. If connection between men even exists. I guess it would stand to reason that women don’t have the inhibitions that men have about showing emotion as being a symptom of homosexuality.

My experiences that lead me to this epiphany were very comforting. Small talk and conversation with other women completely changed. The conversations became much more personal and had an air of comradery. It helped me feel accepted and included. Touching each other is not a big deal either. Like in a crowded Saarein, everybody’s arms, legs, backs, etc. were touching and no one cared. It makes me feel good inside. Or like my sisters sitting with me really close or laying down with their legs over my lap. It’s nice to be able to show affection to those you care about without it being confused with homosexuality. The company of men stands in stark contrast to the company of women, and I have come to like the differences very much. So much that I will never give up on my path. I also realize it is not all as perfect as I make it out to be, but I try to see everything through my rose colored glasses ya know.

Even women strangers have shown the “we have to stick together” attitude. A specific example was when the woman on the train on the return from a’dam offered me help getting my suitcase down from the top rack. She didn’t really offer, she just kinda did it without questioning. Maybe she assumed that I didn’t get it up there myself, which I had to struggle to do. It’s like we give each other preferential treatment over men. Most of the time it is really subtle, and therefore it goes mostly unnoticed by the oblivious men, present party included, and in the past of course. I hope I am not letting the cat out of the bag with this, but no one has told me to keep it to myself so I am going to talk about it. Coming to feel sisterly love is the best and most unexpected outcome of my transition. It gives me a strong sense of basic belonging, one that I never knew living as a male.

If women were to stage a rebellion to take the world back from the hands of men, we could succeed. I think that the fact that there is such a seemingly inherent natural bond between women could be the deciding factor. Like the adhesive that keeps us together to help us succeed. Men would surely end up fighting amongst themselves, opening them up for defeat. It stands to reason that women aren’t exempt from backstabbing either, but I think that banding together would be simpler than between men. If victory were dependent on the strength or even existence of a basic bond, then women would prevail. I am not sure where I am going with all this bullshit, I just hope I can understand it someday. I contend that if the world were in the hands of women it would be a much cleaner, more compassionate place to be in. If and when the revolution comes, I am ready.

I am reminded of the night in Saarein back in January. I was sitting at the bar talking to T as the bar became steadily full. T introduced me to many people as they came to get drinks. She was funny, She told me bluntly that some of the seemingly bi women would “want you to fuck them.” I knew what she meant, and I told her I don’t do that anymore. That was a wild night.

Is it ok to have an infatuation with rocka/psycho/hellbillies, without actually being one? My ex introduced me to the latter’s music. It can get pretty violent, in sort of a bdsm sort of way. The lyric “shut me up with a leather mask” from bondage a go-go comes to mind. That shit scares me. I know it is all about letting go and trusting, but I fear the really shady stuff that could happen when one finds themselves in a compromising position. I suppose that is probably part of the thrill. I remember a three or four floored gay club in Boston, don’t recall the name, but in the cellar they had what they called the dungeon. It was decorated in chrome and black leather with lots of restraint devices neatly arranged for your very own dose of personal anguish. Bondage just isn’t my bag.

When it all comes down to it, there is no substitute for punk rock. KPo is punk rock. Mari is punk rock. Hank is punk rock. I am punk rock in the disguise of a tart. Slamming, or whatever it’s called today, is so invigorating. I had the chance to do it with Hank at the party in a’dam for a couple of songs. The chaos that erupts is great. It is in some ways a release of aggression that everyone needs every once in a while. It’s fun to watch too, if you’re not into contact sports. I am listening to DK Police Truck right now, so you know where my mind is at. I just got all crazy to too drunk to fuck. That felt nice, who says I don’t exercise?

I am glad that I am placing more importance on my private life instead of my work. I have become so unmotivated partly because of the situation with brand A. I think this summer will be quite a wild ride, at least I hope so.

queer (un)eventful

2007-06-09T12:55:00.000+02:00

I am trying not to get discouraged. I went to a boring lesbian party last night in Ffm. It was boring for me because no one even gave me a second look, and if they did it was a look of contempt. Well, not really, that’s just me being pissy. I am convinced I am not going to meet any new friends, much less a partner, at the lesbian parties. I am going to generalize and say that the partygoers are either not open-minded enough, or it is taboo for any of them to have an interest in a transqueerchick♀♀. As one could easily guess, I was the only transwoman there. This is going to be a long and lonely road that I am on. That’s why I am trying not to get discouraged. I have tried the online dating thing and was honest about my status in my profile. That is definitely not going to work either.

I felt that the parties that I went to in a’dam had more open-minded people, and in such an environment I was able to talk to more people easily. The problem is, I am not able to get to a’dam all that often, and parties like that in DE are few and far between. I stress the far part, as most of the seemingly good genderqueer parties are in either Köln or berlin. The next party that I have found is in Köln on 30.06.2007 and is called “Ausnahme” which means exception in german. I am looking forward to it very much.

I have also realized that I find most lesbians at least visually unattractive. I’m not knocking them, everyone has the right to be themselves, but that is just how I feel. I am a very visually oriented person. I can’t remember names, but I could probably tell you what they were wearing when I met them, for example. I remember faces better, so I tend to write names down before I forget. I guess I am honing my likes and dislikes relative to my attraction to other gay women. I should treat my experiences so far as learning about my newly classified sexuality.

I have a fortune from a fortune cookie that reads “Don’t expect romantic attachments to be strictly logical or rational!” Lucky Numbers 2,47,4,22,38,6 I think that will be the case with me if and when I find love again. I think the best thing for me to do is to skip the lesbian stuff and hit the genderqueer events, and just keep a queer eye open for that special person. I assume s/he will be a punk rock boyish girl with a definite personal style.

I have been looking for other types of events such as drum and bass parties. There is a gay club in Mannheim called MS Connexions that I went to a few years ago for DnB parties, that is still around a still doing the parties. Their next one is on my birthday, Friday the 22, called D&B Summer Camp. There is a party tonight in Mainz-Kastel at Reduit called Time 4 TriFire Roll:out. The party is on a container ship floating in the Rheinufer. It sounds like fun, so I might go. Taking the train would be the cheapest way to get there, but the first train home runs at 4.30a. I will be stuck if the party turns out to be a dud. The admission is only 3€ and they claim very relaxed drink prices. Sounds like a winner for a slowly going broke techhead. Plus I haven’t been to a real DnB party in a while. The description of the sound is jazzy raga dub-tech-step. Sounds good. I don’t have anyone to impress so I can allow myself to get all sweaty from dancing the night away and not care. It’s all about the music. The DJanes that were playing last night played too much of a mix to be coherent. They did play one semi-DnB song, but that was it.

I wish I could be in Rotterdam tonight, as there is a party with Technical Itch at the waterfront. It seems that waterfront club has some interesting events. I wish I could go. I am still listening to tech itch stuff that I have from almost ten years ago. I think the Mainz party is probably a good alternative.

I have several events coming up this month that I am sure I will enjoy, like Sonic Youth, Blonde Redhead, and The Sea and Cake. TSaC are playing coincidentally at the Brotfabrik in Ffm, the same place I was at last night. Next weekend the sonic yuts are on deck. I have seen them three times in thpast few years. The first time was at the phoenix center in Pontiac, the second in Köln @ e-werk, and the third in Saint Brieuc @ art rock with Mari. They are always great, even if the crowd sometimes isn’t.

I can only assume that I will meet semi-interested or at least curious women in places that I wouldn’t expect it. Case in point, last December on the vineyard at the wharf with Rach and Troy. There I met Laura-Lee, whom I never expected to meet at a bar such as that. I guess in the end it is only logical that I carry on doing the things that I like, but always trying new places/things out here and there, I am bound to meet someone someday that has similar likes as me

I began to get depressed and slightly upset last night on the way home, but it quickly faded. I went with the assumption that it would turn out to be exactly as it did, so it is no big loss. I hope that my presence there last night challenged some of the women there to think about transwomen, good or bad. Am I the only transqueerchick in the whole of Rhein-Main area? I really hope not. I feel most of the time I am merely tolerated in lesbian circles, and not really ever embraced. It seems that their open-mindedness ends after the door, whereas they are open-minded enough to let me in and tolerate me, but not quite enough to seriously consider even talking to me. I suppose I could try to be more forward, but when I am the exception and not the rule, I am at an instant disadvantage. I wonder if presenting myself not so femme would help, but I am not going to change myself to fit in, even though I am doing just that with my gender in society. I am not so convinced that fitting in is really where it’s at either, and the reality is I will never fit in again just by virtue of being trans. But whatever, I have made certain choices in my life that have certain consequences and accepting the consequences is becoming easier on some fronts.

I miss talking with my ex, I wish she would call or write or something, anything. I can only assume that she and/or her family decided to cut contact with me. I have no choice but to accept it. One rationalization that I came up with is that it has become too difficult emotionally to deal with the person who I am. This saddens me, but there is little I can do about it so I am trying to move on. I have found that the hardest ones to lose are not the ones that immediately go away, but rather the ones that stick around for a while and then split. I guess that I also did the same thing; Christopher stuck around for a while and then split to become Christine. Maybe it’s only fair, but it still hurts. I thought we had a bond strong enough to carry at least our friendship through.

I wish I had someone to get advice from on my lack of a love life. But I think my situation is a perhaps too seldom an occurrence to really find any good advice. Maybe I should start another blog as a forum for my lame search for a companion. Maybe some other transqueerchicks out there are going through the same things I am and are also looking for advice. I sometimes feel I am trying to navigate uncharted waters. I could and should look at this as an adventure with lots of low points with very few highs. That just makes the high points all that much more special, and a reason to persevere.

I will get around to writing my thoughts on my recent trip to a’dam soon, promise. Not that anyone even reads my drivel.

I’m from Sherman Oaks, just a wheel with spokes…KG-SY

xxx files II

2007-06-07T17:39:00.000+02:00

I am on the road to recovery after spending a week in A’dam. Transgender people really know how to party, trust me. I attended the 4th bi-annual Netherlands Transgender Film Festival from May 22-28. The atmosphere at the film festival was as one put it to me, like a family reunion. I had never been in a group with such a large trans presence before. The crowd was mixed, some straights(?), mostly gender queer, with lots of transmen. The film program was good, and the films I saw were great. The parties were even better.

I was such a sewing maniac, that on the morning that I was to travel, I started putting together the black and red swirl dress. I was hoping to get it finished quickly so I could take it with me. It’s still not finished. I suffered a severe packing time loss, and as usual, I cut it really close with the train. I made it though. I bought a pair of shoes from camper online and they were delivered also that morning. They are black flats with white polka dots, they are twins! and they are hot. I wore them with black tube jeans and the Pillhuhn T. I felt really good to be finally wearing the jeans and tops that I made. The train ride was relatively uneventful, compared to the last time.

I arrived at centraal station and then took a tram to the hotel. I checked in and then chatted with David at the front desk. He’s so nice. For some reason it seems that people in general there like to chat, probably because there are so many people coming from all over with their own unique story to tell. I went to eat some dinner at café de Klos. Inside the café is like being inside the belly of an old wooden ship. They have paintings of battles and harbors that were painted with window grating like as if you were in the captain’s quarters looking out the stern windows. Cheesy, I know, but the place has style and draws mostly a Dutch crowd. I had a filet steak with a garlic butter baked potato and a raw salad and baguette slices. One of the bartenders looked a bit rockabilly. I find rockabillies, male and female (it was binary at this point), visually stimulating. They look like they were transported to the present right out of the fifties, with pompadours and bangs. I wrote J an sms while I was waiting for my food.

After dinner, I went to my favorite coffee shop, de dampkring. T wasn’t working that night, so I didn’t stay long. I went to Saarein II for a beer, and it was very quiet there. I got a beer and went upstairs to sit at a table. There was a group of women sitting at the round table; all of them were speaking Dutch. I wrote a bit in my journal and read some more feminist lit. A handsome transman came in and sat at the table next to mine, with his back towards me. He appeared to be not so happy, almost angry even. I wonder if it is a defense system of transmen, because I have noticed this through coming in contact with more and more of them. He stayed for a little while and then hit the bricks. That wouldn’t be the last I would see of him. I chatted with the bartender for a minute, turns out she is from Texas, and I still can’t remember her name. I went back to the hotel to get some shuteye.

I got up in time to eat some b-fast, and then went to the theater, DeBalie, to try to buy my tickets for the week. The box office wasn’t open, apparently they were on lunch. I decided to go uptown to find a bike to rent. I looked all around central station and only found mac bike, they only have bikes that are bright red and scream tourist. I was getting a bit frustrated because I forgot to bring the city guide with me, and all the tourism offices were packed with people. I remembered there was one on Damrak, so walked down toward the dam. Eventually I found it, Holland bike rental. I rented a decent single speed bike, and rode back down to the theater. If one finds themselves in a’dam, and doesn’t rent a bike, you have only yourself to blame. Riding a bike in a’dam bestows a certain power to it’s rider. Pedestrians have the right of way over cars and bikes, but if they are walking or standing in the bike path they are fair game. First comes the bell, then yelling, and then the cursing starts. The bike paths remind me of when we were kids drawing streets with chalk on the pavement to either ride bikes or skateboards through.

The box office was still closed. I ate lunch around the corner at the blaue Hollander, which was traditional Dutch fare. The waitress was listening to the soundtrack from grease, and singing with it here and there. After lunch, the box office still wasn’t open, so I took a ride over to waterlooplein and walked around the flea market. There were some silver vendors there, but nothing really struck my fancy. One woman had some good stuff, but her abrasive and bitchy attitude drove me away. I rode by another silver store on the way back to my hotel, where I bought a bunch of amber jewelry. I’m not convinced that amber goes well with my complexion. I went back to the theater afterwards and bought my tickets for the week. They had a five ticket deal for 25 euro, and then I bought two additional. I went back to the hotel to unload my goodies and get ready for the evening. I stopped in the dampkring for a tea and T was working. We chatted a bit and then I headed to the theater.

I got to the theater a half hour before the opening performance. I enjoyed a coffee outside on the sidewalk tables. I spoke briefly with Eliza about tickets for the hormonotron party on Friday. They didn’t have them yet, so I just went into the performance. Kam Wai gave an introduction. I was just sitting there marveling at the crowd with a big smile on my face. It felt so good to be surrounded by my brethren; male, female, intersex, genderqueer, fags, dykes, trans, etc. rae spoon went on first, although I don’t usually go for prairie music, hir shit was tight and very relaxing. Then came lynnee breedlove exploded on stage with punk rock and queer stuffed animals. Her show was funny, but I am not sure if the Europeans really get her. She had lots of gender related anecdotes and also pissed in a bucket onstage, with the help of a pee standing up gadget for persons with a vagina. The show was a fun opening for the film fest. I bought a ticket for the party Friday after the show let out. I went for a beer at Saarein where I met P/Buck(sp) the bartender, and then to dampkring to see if T was still on. She was, but it was close to closing so I went back to the hotel to sleep. She wasn’t being as warm as she had been back in January and March.

I got up rather late, got some breakfast, and then took care of some grooming issues. I went for a bike ride to a piercing and tattoo shop to see if they had the type of nose studs I usually wear. They didn’t have a very good selection, so I didn’t get anything. It was getting close to dinnertime so I called Rakang Thai to reserve a table for me for six o’clock. I rode around a bit longer to kill some time before going to eat. When I arrived I was met with a friendly greeting and was told that they were having problems with the gas, so it would take a bit longer to get my dish. I don’t remember exactly what I ordered, but it was fried duck with yard long beans and almonds. It was just the right spiciness; I can always tell if it is hot enough by how much sweat runs down in front of my ears. Hot food gives me a rush, somewhat similar, but not quite like an orgasm. Whereas I am going on four years without sex, eating red and green chillis have become my substitute. One of the waiters was very ambiguous; s/he could be either handsome or pretty depending on the outfit. I ordered a double espresso and a grappa for desert. They gave me a refill on the grappa as compensation for the long wait for the food. They were all being very nice that evening.

I rode over to the theater just in time for the film about the Indian Hijras, “between the lines: India’s third gender. It was a very gritty full length documentary about the lives and culture of the Hijras. Their communities are made up of intersexed persons and eunuchs mostly. It was interesting to learn about these people, and the two main characters in the film were there to field questions afterwards. The Hijra that was there was called Laxmi; she was really a neat person, a bit of a ham too. I went to the bar to get a drink in between shows and struck up a conversation with one of the bartenders. He asked me about the film and I told him a little about the Hijras. He was fascinated. I think I am getting better at projecting my openness, and therefore I am able to enjoy nice little chit-chats with the straights. The next movie was “paper dolls”, and it was a documentary about a group of transwomen from the philipines that moved to Israel to get away from the oppression. They all cared for elderly orthodox Jewish men as their job, and also performed a drag cabaret at a tel aviv nightclub on the weekends. Most of them ended up moving to the UK because they were eventually pushed out of Israel. I stayed for a couple of beers at the bar afterward, and then headed out to Saarein. As I was passing prinsengracht, I passed one of the bartenders from dampkring going the other way. We made eye contact and exchanged smiles, and then we both turned to look back at each other and smiled again. That was kinda nice, but we both kept going in opposite directions. I hung out at Saarein for a few beers.

On Friday I decided to check out the Albert Cuyp Market in the southeast part of the city. Before I left the hotel I was speaking with peter at the reception when a beautiful rockabilly woman came in to meet a friend who was staying there. I didn’t put two and two together with her, but she was cool to look at. There were so many fabric stores at the market, I became slightly over stimulated. There were so many fabrics I wanted to buy, and the prices were decent, but I decided I would wait and think about it. I bought two wide hip belts, one red which matched the top I was wearing perfectly, and a black one in the same style. I wore the red one right away. The market was closing and I needed to get some dinner before the next events at the fest. I found Balti House a couple of blocks from the market and sat down for dinner. I ordered the Lamb tikka balti, which again the goodness being a factor of how much I was sweating. It almost feels like a cold sweat when a fever breaks. J had left a message on my mailbox telling me that she would be at Lelebelle at around nine, if I wanted to meet her. I called her back and agreed to meet her at rembrandtplein at nine. I went to the theater for the panel discussion on worldwide (trans)gender rights. I only was able to stay long enough for all of the panelists to give their introductory speeches. The most notable for me were Kate Bornstein, and Stephen Whittle.

I left to go meet J when there was break in the action onstage. J and I went into lellebel for a drink (I don’t really care for that place) which was packed with people. I wondered why none of them had any apparent interest in the film fest, being transwomen or transvestites. We decided to go to a quieter café near my hotel. We talked for a couple of hours which was really nice. Although we don’t know each other very well, I feel like I am talking with an old friend. She is having some health problems that I hope will pass. She took a taxi home and I went back to the hotel to put on my sneakers and grab my jacket. I rode up to the pakhuis wilhelmina for the hormonotron party (i can't seem to ge tthe link to work so just go to www.submagazine.nl/homonotron/ for pics to see if you can find my ass). They had little lockers to stow one’s stuff and it only took one euro coins. I had a two which I changed inside and then came back out to close my locker. A cute rockabilly person was also trying to deal with the lockers and asked me if I had a euro. I handed the second one over to hir, then we went in and s/he bought me a beer and we began chatting. S/he introduced hirself as D (insert feminine German name), and told me s/he was from Berlin. S/he looked like a rockabilly boy with tits, and I was instantly intrigued what s/he would want to do with me. S/he told me s/he thinks I am sweet. We chatted for a while until the punk rock on stage started. S/he grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd to the front where everyone began thrashing about, and I was loving it being right in the middle of it all with hir. That finished and we went back to the open space behind us.

Then the kingz of berlin went onstage and again s/he grabbed my hand and led me up to front of the stage. S/he knows the whole group that came to perform and visit the film fest. The Kingz had to be the best drag king show I have ever seen. The rockabilly girl that I saw at my hotel the day before was half naked onstage in one of the acts. She is so hot, and her name is wendy delorme. D introduced me to several of the kingz who were all really cool. I danced a lot with D and I told hir about the Buttkraaker cabaret that was to take place the following night. S/he said s/he would be there too. As the club was closing, D introduced me to Wendy and Lynee, I told Wendy that I thinks she is hot, and Lynee that s/he rocks. D left to go to hir friend’s house, and I went to the bathroom. I was a bit bewildered as to how I felt about what just happened. I was totally enamored with this person even though s/he is not exactly the type of person I thought I could be attracted to. I think I am developing a thing for boyish females.

When I went outside to free my bike for the ride home, W and L were trying to figure out how to get back to their lodging. They asked me about a specific street that I didn’t know. I asked w if she could find her way from my hotel since she had been there earlier. She said yes and I offered that they could ride with me until things became familiar. It was about 5 am at this point. I rode side by side with w chit-chatting the whole way. I asked her about D and if she could tell me anything about hir. She said s/he goes by the nickname hank, and that s/he is a good person. S/he had helped her when she was depressed and they are good friends. It came time to part ways, and I said goodbye and wished them a nice trip home. W gave me a hug and a three kiss-kiss and she was on her way. She is so nice and sincere; it was very nice to meet her. I got back to my hotel and there I began to try to sort out how I felt about what happened at the party. I just became more confused, so I decided to go to bed hoping that things would be clearer after sleeping the alcohol off.

I woke up Saturday just in time to catch the end of b-fast with a killer hangover. I was only motivated to get showered and dressed so that I could go and buy some aspirin. I felt like butt all day long, however short the day actually was. I went to dampkring to try to take the edge off, and there I met the bartenders M and D. M offered me some melon chunks which were very tasty. I spoke with D for a minute and then I got ready to go. I went to the toilet to pee and wash my hands. D was just coming out of the toilet as I was coming in. We chatted for a few minutes, and in those few precious minutes she told me she was prego, she didn’t know how to ride a bike, and something else I won’t mention here, but it is very personal. I congratulated her for being prego and wished her the best. She said people like her and me have to be and are strong and tough to make it in this world. I felt an instant connection with her, and was pleasantly surprised that she shared such personal things with me. That made me feel good. I hope I am able to see her again someday and also maybe her baby too.

I got to the theater to see Transparent at 4p. Transparent was a documentary about transmen who had bore children and then transitioned into living as men, and in most cases continued raising their children. I began to get upset when they showed a segment with an otherwise normal looking man’s man telling his story and then cut to a home movie clip of him as a little girl with thick blonde hair and big blue eyes wearing a pink dress. They showed this as he was still talking, and it reminded me of pictures of myself at that age. I felt as though I was about to start crying uncontrollably, so I tried to keep myself together as best I could. All I could hear were sniffles in the theater, so apparently I wasn’t the only one who was haunted by this film. J wrote me an sms and I called her back. She told me she was trying to reserve a ticket for the film Shabnam Mosi, but was having no luck getting through. I offered to get a ticket for her and we were to meet just before the start in the salon. I saw the bartender from the other night and he gave me a piece of paper with the name of a movie written on it, and he recommended that I see them (more on this some other time). I went back to the hotel to chill out before meeting J and the next film.

I met J in the foyer and we went into the film together. The film was a Bollywood film about a famous Hijra. The film was very campy and sensationalized. I was glad to have seen the documentary film on Thurs about the Hijras, because it presented a real-life glimpse into the Hijra culture. The film Shabnam Mosi was a little too make believe, but I enjoyed just the same. J did too. That was the first bollywood film for both of us. Afterwards we sat at a table in the café for a drink. I had a ticket for the next event, which was a collection of trans short films. I said goodbye to J and went into the theater. The shorts were really good. I came out of the theater into the café, where J was still where I had left her. She had struck up a conversation with the people that were sitting at the table when we parted earlier. I met them too and we discussed some of the movies and our feelings about them, and they bought me a glass of rose. I walked J to the trams and then we parted.

I headed up to chequepoint to catch the buttkraaker cabaret. I was let in through a rolling door into a narrow entrance with sort of a box office booth built into it. I paid the damage and went upstairs to be greeted by lots of the partygoers from the night before. The show was totally raw and very campy, and was a lot of queer fun. Between sets, the crowd thinned a bit to reveal that hank was sitting across the room. I went over to hir and we began talking about the show. S/he bought me a beer and I asked hir if s/he knew the rockabilly boy-girl that I had met in January when we were both stranded in Arnheim and Utrecht. S/he said s/he knew hir but that s/he did too much drugs, and s/he doesn’t run with that crowd. It’s funny how small Europe is, I have met people on separate occasions that know each other, strange but nevertheless interesting. We danced to electro for a while and then I decided I was going to go to the hotel. When we said goodbye, I could feel some tension, and I wanted to tell hir how I felt, but being that I wasn’t quite sure myself, I left it at that.

As I was getting ready to leave I remembered that ::NuNswithGuNs::, G for short, does the visuals for the buttkraaker. I asked Eliza what she looked like so I could find her, and I did. I introduced myself to her and she got a bit embarrassed about what she commented on my blog back in January. She got me a drink and we chatted for a little while. She is so cute; she is pleasantly plump with short black hair with big dark brown eyes. She was so sweet too, like an adorable little doll that I wanted to put in my bag and take home with me. As I was talking to her, I noticed hank making out with a rockabilly girl across the room. I was wondering if that could have been me, had I said more at our parting. It didn’t really bother me, because I was too unsure of my feelings and inaction seemed to be the best way to deal with it. I said goodbye to G and made a rainy bike ride back to the hotel.

I didn’t get up in time for b-fast on Sunday, bummer. I felt somehow better than I did the day before upon waking. I got dressed and went to return the bike. I stopped at mickeyD’s for a quick bite to eat and then took a tram to leidseplein. As I was walking into the foyer at DeBalie, I was greeted by giuliana who was on her way out. She asked me for my email and said she had to go to work, bummer. J came to us just as we were saying goodbye. I met J as she was going into the other theater and told her I would meet her afterwards. The first film was called Queens at Heart, which was basically interview footage with transwomen from the late 1960’s. They were all dressed very mod fabulous. It was interesting to hear the stereotypically inaccurate descriptions of them and their behavior. They were presented as homosexual men who wanted a sex change so they could sleep with men. I enjoyed it very much. Then the second segment was about an elderly transwoman who was contacted by her teenage girlfriend forty years later. The teenage girlfriend had no idea that she had transitioned, but accepted it and they became close again instantly. The transwoman in the story had been the subject of a transition documentary by the same filmmaker back in the early nineties. So this film was like a follow up on her life. It was an interesting and sweet story.

I met J in the café afterwards and she introduced me to C. C is a transman that kind of made me nervous. He kept looking at J like she was a piece of meat, which made me feel uneasy. We met the same people from the night before in the café. J and I were trying to decide where to eat when the others invited us to go eat sushi with them. I wanted to spend some more time alone with J and I am not quite ready to eat Japanese food again, so we said thanks but no thanks. We walked around the block looking for a little café that J knew of, but wasn’t exactly sure if it was still there. We eventually found it, Café de Koe (café the cow) it is called. It is a tiny place that looks like it has been there forever and is a well kept local secret. The food was wonderful and the service attentive. And it took just enough time to eat and get back to the theater for the closing.

The closing was with kate bornstein, doing readings from her books and short stories. She imitated her mom in a thick new york jew accent, “my son the lesbian.” It was interesting to learn about her life through her short stories. I like her a lot. She gave out “get out of hell free” cards to everyone at the end. I could have spoken with her afterwards, or over the course of the past days, but I felt somehow intimidated and a little embarrassed that I didn’t know much about her. I hope to see her again someday. J and I enjoyed the show very much. Kam Wai made a short speech at the end. He is truly an extraordinary person; he is the main organizer of the Netherlands Transgender Film Festival. He deserves a big hug and a kiss and much gratitude from all of us guests. J and I went and sat down in the café with our new friends and C was there also. We chatted for a couple of drinks and then said our goodbyes to the new friends.

I walked J to the tram and waited with her until hers came. I was sad to have to say goodbye, but alas we parted. I walked over to Saarein for a quiet farewell beer. I sat downstairs watching some dykes playing pool when Tinas came to buy some cigs from the machine next to where I was sitting. Tinas “the penis” asked me what I was doing all alone and said I should come upstairs and join the rest of the people. I asked if there was room for me, and he told me I only needed to wiggle my ass in. So I did. Tinas introduced me to L and M and H. We all discussed the film fest and how good it was and felt, and lots of other things too. They made me feel really at home. Eliza came by and did a short interview with me about the festival. I ended up chatting with her for a while too. Saarein was past their normal closing time by two hours. Tinas and M and H and L all convinced me to go to de trut with them before it closes. I learned how to ride as a “backer” which is just one of the skills that amsterdammers possess. A backer is when you ride on the back rack of a bike while someone else pedals. The secret is to let the driver get a rolling start as the rider runs along with them and then sits down. As one can imagine after a few beers this is not so easy. I got the hang of it though, we didn’t even crash luckily.

We made it to de trut, but they were already closed to newcomers and only Tinas got in because he works there. Blah! The club is a queer nightclub set in a squat. Their door policy is strictly homosexuals only, and sometimes if they are not sure about you, they ask that you somehow prove that you are queer. How you prove that is up to you, but it must be convincing. I was told that they frown on any semblance of heterosexual behavior, and you just might get thrown out if you don’t heed the warnings. It sounds like an interesting place; I am disappointed that we didn’t get in. We decided to go over to reality near rembrandtplein for a last beer of the night/morning(?). They were playing dancehall reggae at the little dive bar. M and L left as H and I both got another beer.

I spoke with H for a while, a would be, on the fence mtf. S/he was a bit strange. Part of the ride over I rode with hir. I asked where s/he was from, s/he replied from the UK, but really s/he was originally from Pluto. Heh? I let that little irregularity go, hoping it was just a little joke, but still feeling like s/he was serious. s/he was. S/he later told me that s/he has psychotic episodes, and all became clear. I spoke with hir about being unsure about gender and that it is ok to feel that way and that with time it would probably become clear. In the back of my mind I was thinking it was perhaps just a new psychosis, because s/he hadn’t had the contra gender feelings for very long. I have met people before that suddenly woke up one day and decided they were trans, without ever having any such feelings in the past. And some were relatively far along in life too. I find that intriguing to not be tormented as I was for so many years with these feelings. I tried to stress the need to take things slowly, with the hope that this person would seek help from a mental health professional before acting on any of these feelings. This experience made me realize why there is so much psychological scrutiny of Trans people. We finished our discussion on the walk back to my hotel. We said goodbye and I went in to get a little sleep.

I woke up in time for b-fast, they served ham and eggs. I got showered and dressed and packed before going down to breakfast. After breakfast I went to get some water and a little treat before I had to leave. I took a taxi to central station and made the train with time to spare. I was alone in a cabin for the first leg of the ride. Eventually a heavy set black woman sat opposite me from about the half way point until the end in Ffm. She offered to help me to get my suitcase down from the overhead rack. That was really sweet of her. That’s women sticking together. I will write about that theme after this novel of a post.

I left Amsterdam tired, confused, and over stimulated. I realized though that I feel most comfortable around other gender queer people like and unlike myself. I had such a good time and met so many new people that I didn’t want to leave, but I had a feeling it would eventually kill me if I stayed there too long. That was the most fun I have had in a long time. I hope to have a similar if not even better experience again someday. I am left wondering when will be my next trip to utopia.

getting to the next XXX...

2007-06-04T22:58:00.000+02:00

Before I get into the latest A’dam debauchery (it will be lengthy one), I want to write a little bit about my designing and sewing.

In the weeks leading up to the trip I was a sewing maniac. I managed to make a new wardrobe for the trip. I made:
Black hip hugger cropped jeans with red topstitching and a red felt ‘chick’ C on the ass pocket (see previous post for pic)
Black hip hugger tube jeans with a black leather chick C on the ass pocket
Blue hip hugger boot-cut jeans with a blue chick C on the ass pocket
Olive green hip hugger boot cut corduroys
Converted a black Pillhuhn T-shirt into a slim T
Brown and white polka dot viscose jersey 40’s neckline top
Black and white polka dot viscose jersey V neck top
Black/red/beige/white floral print viscose jersey ¾ sleeve top
Black/white/red floral print viscose jersey mini-dress (see previous post for pic)
Started a black and red sporty mini-dress with mandarin collar of polyester

I also managed to make a pair of corduroy trousers to wear with the blazer that I tailored last fall. I wore the ensemble to visit VW for a meeting in Kassel. I am so glad that I had the ambition to make things because it makes me feel good to be able to wear things that I myself made. I have a perfect little production line set up. I use my newer Pfaff for normal seam sewing, the old Singer for topstitching, and the Pfaff coverlock for serging the seam allowances. I have them all set up so that I don’t skip a beat when putting together a pair of jeans. I used all stretch denims, which I think I will probably have to machine dry every other washing because they tend to stretch out and stay that way. I want to make some more tops and also some skirts for summer too.

Yay! Tickets are purchased for Sonic Youth on the 16th in Wiesbaden, Blonde Redhead in Heidelberg on the 23rd, and I might go to see The Sea and Cake at the Brotfabrik in Ffm on the 26th. I am so happy that I am finally going to see BR in concert, live even. Toll!

Druck

2007-05-19T09:43:00.000+02:00

I find myself in a quandary. My current work contract ends on June 10, and my company has given me the paperwork to sign to extend it for two years. I haven't signed anything yet. Brand A finally contacted me again yesterday. I spoke with one of my interviewers on the phone, and here's what he had to say: "We realize that you had mentioned that you would rather work in Bensheim, but we have discussed where we need you, and we have decided we want you in Graz." Punkt. I told him there was also a personal reason that I wanted to stay in germany for about another year, and then I would be willing to move to Graz. I feel as though at some point I am going to have to be open about my wish for surgery. I have invested two years in therapy and psychiatrists with the goal of eventually receiving psychological evaluations to apply for surgery. Moving to another country at this point is attractive, but if I decide to move I will have to start all over again. Well, not totally. But I would have to wait a lot longer. It could mean the difference between one year and two. There is always the Thailand option. Funny how a job turning ugly can screw up a perfectly good plan. I am wondering what they will have me work on. One of the guys who interviewed me runs the group that develops test machines for the formula 1 engines and xmissions. That is all very high speed stuff, like as in 20,000 rpm. That is a bit out of my experience range. I have designed up to 8,000 many times with success, with a part of my very first machine capable running at 15,000. Anyway, that would be an excellent opportunity for me and very exciting work. High risk work. If they make me an offer I can't refuse, I might just take it. I feel more confident that I could have a future in a company like that. I feel trapped and abused by my current job. I have been thinking about and loathing all the things that moving entails. I wan to stay put for longer than two years. I have done 3 international moves in the last four years. By the third time I was good at it. Moving to Graz would be more comparable to my move from mass to michigan. The cultures are basically the same here and there, germanic. Bier und wurst. I agreed to call the Dr back this coming week when he would be in his office to discuss further. My company would be very upset if I virtually without notice just up and left. I have to reread my contract to make sure there aren't any clauses about giving notice before the end of the contract. I have a lot to think about.

rage against the maschine

2007-05-14T23:45:00.000+02:00

I’ve wanted to break or maim something or someone all day long. It started when finn and fredi were ridiculing magda this morning at work. I don’t think she really caught on to what they were doing, maybe she did, I just hoped it would be over quick. People can be so mean sometimes. Bad karma always comes back. A little ways into the discussion with fredi and finn, it became clear that fredi did not think about what he was doing and made a fairly large mistake. He is on vacation for the next three weeks. That means I have to correct his mistake as well as do my own ever heaping pile of work. All this fueled the fire within. Then there was the cart. The cart is what joins and guides the axle mod on the translation mod, in other words it is a fairly important part of the machine. I originally laid it out and never quite finished the design, but it did fit before he took the design over and finished it. I asked him to check his work on many occasions, but he always quietly refused. I check all my work to prevent 95% percent of my mistakes, with the remaining five percent being minor adjustments made at assembly. I did a basic optical frisk of the drawing of the cart and found it very hard to follow. I looked for the obvious and most important stuff, which he had done incorrectly. The rest I had no time to check, so I told him he was responsible for it when it doesn’t fit. The holes were off by five millimeters in some places. I was livid. The rest of the machine had gone together with minor problems that required no machining inside of a couple of days. The cart was a show stopper today. I wanted so badly to tell him that is what happens when you don’t check your work. I was very vocal at the point when he placed the cart on order, making it clear it was his responsibility. Anger, maybe even…rage? You bet. My mood was raging today, but I am tired now though. And I have hurty boobs. Thankfully, tomorrow is shot day. I don’t go looking for a fight usually when I feel this way; I have learned to control it somewhat. But, if someone brings a fight to me on one of these thankfully rare days, look out! I can go from 0 to total flip out in mere milliseconds. That’s an overstatement, but we’ll leave it at that.

Ich bin noch da! with pics...

2007-05-13T14:22:00.000+02:00

I have finally decided to break the silence. I have been rarely inspired to write over the last couple of months. It wasn’t for the lack of noteworthy events, but perhaps a bit of depression. I feel better now, although some of the goals I have set for myself have not yet been met. Namely to obtain the psychological evaluations that are required for surgery. I had hoped to obtain them shortly after completing successfully my first year in the female gender role.

My therapist is unfortunately very slow at writing the reports that he is required to generate. The story begins last October when I was given the questionnaire to complete to request to convert my short duration therapy into long duration therapy. I completed my part, also in German, within a week and submitted it to him in the middle of October. In the following months I had assumed he had completed his report and submitted it to my health insurance (HIP) soon after I had completed my part. By the time the initial allotment of hours had run out in December, I began to wonder why I hadn’t heard anything from my HIP regarding the new hours. We didn’t have many sessions through January as I and he were on vacation for most of the month. I did however speak with my HIP about the documentation that I needed to obtain to apply for surgery. He is required to write an evaluation since I had been in therapy with him for over a year. I then promptly requested that he start to prepare to write his evaluation, since my first year anniversary was coming in a couple of months.

My first meeting in February was met with him having me sign the form that accompanies his request for more hours. Needless to say I was a bit upset that over four months had passed since I submitted my part. We did sessions on credit because he felt that it was a sure thing that I would get more hours, it was only a matter of time. Five weeks later he received an angry letter from the evaluator that read his report denying the request for more hours. The evaluator became upset that he had not included certain diagnostics, such as family dynamics. He recommended that he should write an appeal to the decision of the HIP evaluator. I agreed since I am required to be in continual therapy during transition. The sessions that followed were quite upsetting to me. He wanted to obtain documentation from my therapist back in the states, from the psychiatrist I visited, and an interview with his wife for some family dynamics. I asked when he would be finished with the appeal. He said he was not able to give me a definitive date, much less even a ball park timeframe. I found all this very upsetting because I had already asked him to start writing the formal evaluation for surgery several months before. Then came the money aspect of it. I had done ten hours on credit so far and I would be required to pay him some cash to continue. I was so exasperated that I paid him what he requested and decided to do a session a month until the appeal was finished and the hours are approved. I eventually became depressed because I felt as though I would be stuck with my body as it is now, for the rest of my life.

I decided to try to stop thinking about all the time that I was losing because of my therapists’ inefficiency, and fill my time with worthwhile activities. I began sewing again because the weather was suddenly warm and I don’t have much in the way of summer clothes. I visited with him this past week, expecting him not to have completed the appeal yet. He had finished it, and submitted it the week before. He also gave me a copy. I was pleasantly surprised that he had finished it, and we had a good session in part due to the fact that I was feeling better than in the past months. He informed me that as soon as the appeal is accepted, he would begin to write the formal evaluation. I have struggled to understand the appeal he wrote, since it is all in German. I have read, and reread it many times to understand the content. In a nutshell, he wrote about all the events or experiences that could have had a lasting psychological effect on me, and that he found no lasting effects, then went further to hypothesize that I could have been possibly born this way based on the latest research. The meaning that I got from all of that was even though my family environment was laden with potentially emotionally traumatizing and or influencing events, and much were, I came away from it all without any of it having a bearing on my gender dysphoria and personality. This confirms how I feel about all of it. There are many factors in my history that could be seen at face value as causes, such as the relationship with my father, being an only boy among six sisters, being a middle child, broken home, etc. In the end, I still don’t, and probably will never, know why I feel the way that I do, I just do. It suits me.

I have since changed product line groups at work and now I sit up on the fifth floor. I have a view of the city from my new office. The project that I have been saddled with is for Volkswagen in Kassel and Wolfsburg. Yet another project with an impossible schedule and budget, but this time with a paying customer behind it. I fell prey to a larger conspiracy within my company with me as the pawn. I was wondering why it was so easy to change groups, even with the president recommending it. I was told that I was to work on modularizing the powertrain product line, but if a customer project came along I would also have to work on it. The looming project with VW was never really mentioned as the real goal of having me move, as the modularization was the most important thing. Within days of when I was supposed to change groups the VW project came in. The project was for four test cells, one all wheel drive simulator, two front wheel drive, and one double clutch test stand. The FWD and AWD systems were supposed to be copies of what we had supplied in the past. But in the course of the beginning of the project it became clear that we would not be able to use anything from the past, and that everything would have to be redesigned. Even the central unit of the double clutch machine seems as though I will have to redesign.

I feel that I was hoodwinked by management into taking on a difficult, if not impossible project. The project is not specifically called so, but it is a “strategic” project, meaning it was sold at our cost, with no profit margin. We are supposed to create a profit margin through cost reduction measures, theoretically. I guess it speaks for my value to the company, that I am working on the most high profile projects. It also means that the responsibility on my shoulders is quite heavy. I had been so long out of this product line that I had forgotten all that goes along with it, such as the utter lack of clarity as to what the customer actually wants and needs. The process of clarifying the system requirements can and has taken months, and even today it is not totally clear. I have began to refresh myself with the calculation programs that are used in the design of high speed systems. In the previous group, I was only confronted with high mechanical inertia, low speed (max 1300 rpm) systems, and now I am back working with low inertia, high speed (3000 to 8000 rpm) systems. The level of engineering skill required for the latter is much higher as the former. In the end I am much more stimulated by the work I am doing now, I feel as though I am being challenged again in a positive way because I am again using my most valuable skills. The machine that I worked myself half to death to complete the design of is finally taking shape in metal on the shop floor. There have been only minor problems so far, and experiencing its build is extra satisfying to me.

I went on an interview in Graz, Austria on the 17th of April with the competition. They flew me in for the day and I flew back to Ffm on that same evening. Graz is nice. It’s nestled in an expanding valley in southern Austria, with ski resorts within an hour’s drive. The interview went extremely well. I was a bit nervous at first with not knowing how I would be received by the interviewers. I met with three men to discuss my work experience and capabilities. I spoke with them for about an hour and then was delivered to the HR dept for further discussions. I spoke with a woman from HR for over two hours. She had a lot of good questions and in the end she was able to determine how I solve problems and how I deal with possible situations. I felt very confident throughout the interviews and left there with a good feeling. I met a former colleague that works for them now two weeks ago at a biergarten. He had been the week before in Graz to discuss projects and to also speak to them about me. He told me that I came across as likeable and self confident in the interviews. They wanted me very much to move to Graz, but I insisted that I would rather work in Bensheim, because I didn’t want to move again just yet. He said he would check into whether or not they were still going to send me an offer. I need to close the loop with them this coming week. My current contract expires on June 10, and with that date less than a month away, I am a bit nervous. I had hoped to not have to sign a new contract and just walk away when that date arrives. I will just have to remain patient I guess.

I have been making clothes again. In the past several weeks I have made four pairs of pants; black cropped skinny jeans with red topstitching, olive green corduroy boot cut jeans, olive green corduroy straight leg trousers to match the blazer I made, and the first pair of black cropped skinny jeans with red topstitching that were a size too small. The very first pair of skinny blue jeans that I made back in the fall were too baggy in the front from waist to hip, and in checking the pattern I made against the original pattern tissue, I found that I had traced the hip lines for a size 18, while the rest of the piece was traced on the 16 lines. Not knowing this, I decided to make a size 14 pair of skinny jeans since the size sixteen pair fit too loose. The 14s didn’t fit at all, of course. I am trying to find someone to give them to that they will fit. I have also been experimenting with jersey for making tops at various lengths and with varying neckline styles. The fabrics that I have been using to make the pants have been all stretch denim and corduroy. I have developed a stabilizing method for the waistband so that it holds its shape and doesn’t get all stretched out while wearing. I hate pants that constantly fall and I have to keep pulling them up in the back.

I have been making pieces that fit with the latest trends, but by my own terms, or interpretation. I like knowing that no one else could possibly be wearing the same exact thing I am wearing, simply because it was designed and made by me with my choice of fabrics. Most of it is close fitting and shows off the goods which I am very proud of. Although I am not as curvy as I would like to be, I am nevertheless satisfied with my figure. I like looking fashionable too.

I had bid on an old singer sewing machine on EBay similar to the one that we had when we lived here the first time. I bought it for 35 euro with the intention of buying an automatic buttonholer attachment that was only made for the older machines. I ended up scoring a buttonholer and a monogrammer from the same seller in the states. The machine is a vintage 402G made in Germany in 1959. I have been using my newer Pfaff for the general sewing and the singer for topstitching. Before I would have to constantly switch between normal thread and the topstitching thread, and therefore the amount of time to finish a piece took all that much longer. I used to dread working with stretch fabrics because controlling the stretch during sewing seemed an insurmountable challenge. Since I have learned to deal with the stretch, I have been working almost exclusively with stretch fabrics. I bought some really nice jersey fabrics; brown with white polka dots, black with white polka dots, white with a black and red floral pattern, and a beige, black and red floral pattern.

I also bid on an oak art nouveau dining set and won it. I am just waiting on the delivery now. The set will match the oak art nouveau buffet cabinet that I bought over a year ago. I am hoping that they will work together. If not, at least I finally will have a dining table at least. I will also use it as a cutting table, and I will get rid of the cardboard one I have been using. I may cut it up to use as fabric bolt holders. I can’t wait for my new (old) table.

I have a long weekend planned for the end of the month in A’dam to be there for the transgender film fest. I usually had learned of it after it had happened, but this year I will hopefully be there for it. I am looking forward to seeing T and J again when I go back there again. I am curious if anything will happen with me and T, but I am not getting my hopes up just in case nothing happens.

In June Blonde Redhead is playing in Heidelberg, and Sonic Youth are playing in Wiesbaden at the Schlachthof (a former slaughterhouse) also in June. I am excited to go to the concerts. Two of my favorite bands playing within a week of each other, with both being only half hours drive away. Yay!!! I haven’t heard the new sonic youth yet, but Mari and Christi bought me a copy of the new BR “23”. I like it very much. Their latest effort is a bit space poppy. It’s nice nevertheless.

I think this will do for now, I want to get to making the next body wrapper.

xxx files I

2007-03-25T22:09:00.000+02:00

I screwed myself over yet again. I worked so much in the weeks that I had been back to work that I got sick as soon as I stopped. My entire vacation with Rach was spent slamming sinus pills, medinait, and ibruprofin. All I needed was a couple of days of rest and I would have been cured. Consequently, we didn’t stop until I dropped her off at the airport. We had a lot of fun together over the past week.

I picked her up at Fraport at 12.30 on Thursday the 15th. We dropped off her stuff at my apartment and then went food shopping. Later that afternoon I went for an electrolysis session that was unbelievably painful. I relaxed and cooled my injured face and neck for a while then we went to dinner. We had pizza at Antik Lokales and a couple of beers. I had a pizza with salami, pepperoni, and schaafskaese. The pizza was so greasy that I was awoken from sleep by really bad acid reflux. I felt so drained from the electrolysis session, bad idea.

We got ready to go on Friday after sitting around gabbing and drinking coffee. Our first stop was Kombinat to get our noses pierced. I have been wanting to do it for a while, and she mentioned that she wanted to do it too, so we did it. It was really painful at first, then it was ok. It felt strange for a few days afterward. The guy working at the counter was Bill, the singer of the band Bushfire. I had seen them at the Pillhuhn benefit concert at the Bessungener Knabenschule a few weeks ago. They rocked. I mentioned to him that I enjoyed their set, and he gave me a card with their next appearance info on it, April 14 at die Halle in Hanau. He said if I come he’ll buy me a beer. I told him I just may take him up on his offer. Rach got a pink stone, and I got an emerald green one. I felt a little off as we walking to the Kombinat, and as he was piercing my nose I felt a stream of blood run across my olfactory nerve which made my eyes water. From that moment on my sinus infection took hold. Afterwards we went to get our nails done. I am not very satisfied with the job they did. The woman who did my fill totally thinned out my natural nails until they were paper thin. They are holding up well so far, but I don’t think I will be going back to them.

We went shopping for a minute afterwards at H&M. I was feeling quite out of it at that point. We dropped the spoils off at my apartment and then headed to La Bodega to meet Mari, Christi, Yvonne, and Helmi for dinner. Rach got to meet all my friends and shared a paella with Mari and Christi. Helmi showed up late as usual. We had a great time and I was feeling a bit better. After dinner, Helmi went home and the rest of us walked over to the Pillhuhn for a few beers. The place was relatively full and various drunk men were coming on to Rach throughout the time we were there. She got a taste of the local culture as I live it. We stayed until about one thirty and then walked home.

We got up rather late on Saturday; I made pancakes and caramelized cracked pepper bacon to go with it. We got cleaned up and decided to go to Ffm to do some more shopping. While I was wiping my face with astringent, I caught my nose jewel and pulled it out and it fell right down the drain. I was already not having a good day being hung over and all, and this just put the icing on the cake. I took the drain apart and found a big old nasty hair clog in the making with no sign of my jewel. I dismantled more and then I found it. I sterilized it with alcohol and tried to get it back in. It took me a few tries and dropping it again, this time on the floor, to get it back in. I cleaned the hair clogs away and put the drain back together. I needed a break after that ordeal.

On to Ffm…I bought a pair of brown leather ballerina flats and Rach bought some Esprit sneakers. We went to H&M to have a look but they were getting ready to close. We went to the Thai imbiss near the parking garage to get some dinner. The restaurant was packed as usual. I felt better after eating something, then we went to Starbuck’s to get a coffee and to check out the DAX stock exchange. We drove back to DA and stopped at my apartment for a few minutes. Rach decided she wanted to see Amsterdam, so I booked a room at the Golden Bear for Monday and Tuesday. We went later to the Burrin Bar for their St. Patrick ’s Day party. As we drove by An Sibin, we could tell it was totally packed. The Burrin was full but still comfortable enough to enjoy a couple of Guinness while watching all the freaks. They had boiled dinner for sale, but we had eaten not so long beforehand.

We were extra lazy on Sunday morning into the early afternoon. We went for a ride into the Odenwald where the weather got ever worse. It was raining, sleeting and snowing all at the same time. We went to Hering for look around and then drove up to the Veste to check that out. We decided to try the restaurant there, the one that during the two years I lived there, never once ate there. Rach had the pork roast and I had the sauerbraten. The food and wine was really good. We hung out there for a couple of hours, and then we headed back to DA for the night. We went to bed early to get ready for the drive to Amsterdam.

I got up early Monday morning to go to my doc to get my shots and to get some more sinus medicine at the pharmacy. I had to reschedule my appointment with my doc for this coming week, since we would be in a’dam the next day. I got some pastries for breakfast and then we showered and got packed to go. The weather was decent for most of the ride through Cologne, Arnheim, and Utrecht. We found the Olympic stadium where there is also a park&ride. The stadium is a very good example of Art Deco architecture. Cool. The park&ride thing in a’dam is totally cheap, parking is 5.50 per day and a tram pass is included for an hour each way to get to your hotel. I would normally park at the central garage which costs about 25 euro per day, and it isn’t even as convenient. I prefer the train as my favorite mode of long distance transportation.

We arrived at the Golden Bear at around 7p. We asked at the reception if they could recommend a good place to eat close by. Alexander recommended Café Klos to us which was located across Leidsestraat on the same side as the hotel. We decided to try it, and we were glad we did. It is a no frills kind of place, but the enormous portions of ribs and steak turned out to be quite a feast. The staff was very friendly and the crowd was a mix of locals and foreigners. I ate my fill of ribs, salad, bread, and baked potato. We ventured up to Dampkring for a drink and a smoke. We were so tired from the drive and the large satisfying dinner that we decided to retire before long.

We got up and got ready to go fairly early and went down to breakfast. The big fat kitty was sleeping on the bench next to us. We walked up to Dam square and then on to Centraal Station and then over to Prinsengracht. We followed Prinsengracht down to the Ann Frank House. We wanted to go in, but it must have been a school field trip day because there were about a hundred elementary schoolers there. We decided to take some pictures from the outside and then move on. The weather had deteriorated slowly as the day went on. We decided to take a break for lunch at the Replay café. I had a soup and a sandwich and a glass of wine.

We decided to hop a tram to the Rijksmuseum. We got off at the wrong stop and had to walk across the wind and rain swept square in front of the museum. The weather was beginning to take its toll on me. We walked around the Rijksmuseum for a few hours looking at all the Rembrandts and various other historical items. I had wanted to go to the museum for quite some time, and I’m sure I will go there again in the future. We walked up to the Dampkring for something warm to drink and to relax for a moment. The blonde bartender I met in the bathroom last time was working. I still was wondering if she was coming on to me last time and if I was too dumb to realize it at the time. I went up and ordered our poison. I said hello and asked her what kinds of tea they had. She replied by asking me, “should I make you a nice one?” I said yes with a smile and anxiously awaited her custom concoction. She winked at me smiled as she served me the tea and coffee. She was definitely flirting with me that time. We hung out for a while and finished our drinks. The Bartender came to pick up our empty glasses and I thanked her for the wonderful tea. She winked and smiled at me again as we were leaving.

We proceeded to go back to the hotel to lounge for a little while. We were trying to decide where to go eat, and the only place I could think of was Getto. We got ready and ventured back out into the cold rain in search of vittles. We took a tram to Dam square and walked the rest of the way. The restaurant was fairly empty except for a group celebrating a birthday in a loungey nook near the dining area. I had a steak and Rach had a Mexican tortilla dish. The food was decent, but I am not I will go back there in the future. I finished my dinner off with a crème brulee and a coffee. Rach was quite wiped after dinner as we headed back to the hotel.

I was feeling ok still so I decided to go to Saarein II for a beer alone. There wasn’t much going on there, and it occurred to me as I was writing about the day’s events in my journal that the bartender at the Dampkring was probably still there. I left Saarein and walked over to Dampkring. She was still there. She greeted me with a wink and a smile again. I ordered an orange juice, since I didn’t feel like drinking anymore beer. I was getting ready to leave as she was cleaning up to get ready to close for the night. She moved the toaster away from the counter inside the bar directly in front of me. She began to chat with me and I said that I was on a short vacation there with my sister, and that I live in Germany. She asked what I do here; living and working, and then we began to bitch about having no life outside of work. I asked her name, T we’ll call her, and I told her mine. She offered to take me and my sister out to a party the next time we are in town. I said I would be back in the end of May and that I would look her up when I am back in town. She winked and smiled again as I was leaving. My intuition was right. I can’t wait till the next time I see her. I have a feeling we will end up getting together for dinner or something (I hope!). Every moment spent in Amsterdam is like a little gift to me. I love it there.

We got up at about eight on Wednesday and got showered, dressed and packed. We cleared out of the room and sat down for breakfast. We left our bags at the hotel for about an hour while Rach bought her nikes and we had a quick coffee stop. We got our bags and hopped a tram to get to the car to drive back. The drive home took way too long. We ran into traffic getting close to Cologne. I suggested that we could go to see the cathedral there and get some dinner. The wind and rain made it unbearable to stand there and look at it for more than five minutes. We decided to go and find some dinner, I remembered the little steak house that used to have a Barbie fountain at the front door. Now it is a shi-shi steak house, and no more Barbies. The prices were still decent though. The food was great and we were on our way again. The weather driving through the Taunus was a mix of snow and rain. That stretch of autobahn is treacherous even when it is dry. We made it out of that and home safely. We were both wiped out and ended up going to bed rather early.

Thursday ended up being quite a waste. It had started snowing in the early morning hours and continued throughout the day. We went to see Burg Frankenstein, which because of its elevation, was covered with wet snow. The snow made for some crappy sightseeing. We left there and drove to Heidelberg. It rained the whole time we were there, so we decided to duck into a café for something warm to drink and eat. We called it a wash and headed back to my apartment. I was feeling physically miserable and tired so we stayed in.

We were up and ready to go in time to go to Wal-Mart so Rach could get some chocolates and various haribo bears and such. We had an easy ride to the airport, and her check in took all of ten minutes wait. We went outside for a last smoke before she was to go through security. We said our sad goodbyes and she went in. I waited to make sure she got through ok, we waved to each other and then I left. I miss hanging out with her.

I went back home for a minute to get my grocery bags and then headed back to Wal-mart. I got what I needed there and then went to Alnatura, the pharmacy and Plus. I put all that stuff away and then I fueled up the rental and returned it. I rode my bike home and then fell into bed. Saturday was spent sleeping, eating, laundry, and sleeping again. I felt like I could sleep forever.

I feel a little better today, I was mostly lazy. I did get up the energy to shower since I can actually smell myself today, and I smelled like pie. It felt nice to shower, although I didn’t wash my hair. I ran out of tobacco so I walked to the store to bring back all my returnables and get some smokes. I did a bit more laundry today and made sure I ate well enough to get some strength back. I begin my new position tomorrow. I got an invitation to go to Graz for an interview with brand A in the middle of April. I accepted the invitation and I am waiting to get the details per email. I am dreading going back to work tomorrow. Oh well, it is time once again to make my bed and then fall into it so that I can sleep and dream of sweet Dutch girls.

garage keys

2007-03-13T07:50:00.000+01:00

I feel almost too good right now. Giddy in fact. I hope this keeps up until after Rach's visit. Yay to euphoria.

cake-like

2007-03-13T00:03:00.000+01:00

I almost forgot to mention that the new shampoo I bought smells like chocolate. My conditioner already smells like vanilla, so my hair smells like chocolate cake with vanilla frosting. The shampoo smells like cake batter. It also has soy milk in it. Ihave to thank Kpo for recommending that I try some LUSH hair care products. I am hooked on the american cream conditioner. It's like aromatherapy that is with me all day long. I went four days last week without washing my hair. It felt like a grease pit by the fourth day, but I needed to give my hair a rest. Even washing it every other day is borderline too much. By the third day the vanilla smells rather raunchy. It reminds me of the inside joke that someone knows that they smell like pie. You know who you are. But now I smell like cake. yummy

this strange effect

2007-03-12T23:53:00.000+01:00

I feel rather good today. I’m not sure why. I should be wiped out after working the last eight days in a row. Maybe I am happy because Rach is coming to visit me this week, and because I finish my work in my old group Wednesday. I haven’t felt this good in a while.

I had a dream last night that I was having sex with a man, in a somewhat public place. I don’t remember the circumstances that precluded the sexual encounter, nor do I remember who it was with. I remember not being particularly enthused by it, I don’t remember being excited at all. It just sort of happened. I have been wondering if the next time I have sex it will be with a man. I hope not. I am beginning to wonder how long I can go without a partner and without sex. I miss companionship more than sex.

I enjoyed the L word second season that I bought in A’dam. I realize it is only a tv show, but it gave me a little more insight into sappho lifestyle. The sex scenes were nice. I have sex on the brain today. Watching the dvd’s was sort of a test to see if I would get aroused in a previously normal fashion. What I experienced was rather interesting. Nothing was going on between my legs, but I felt tingly all over instead. That felt really good. It taught me that sexual arousal has taken on a whole new meaning to me now.

Did I mention that I donated all of my men’s clothing last week? Well I did it finally. It took so long mostly out of laziness. I filled about ten garbage bags. Conveniently there is a goodwill box behind my building. I cleaned up my sewing area two weekends ago. It took me all day. I found scraps from stuff I made a year ago.

If I can avoid working like a nutta, I could maybe manage to make some jeans or something. I have been working on a page boy hat and a vest for several weeks now.

I finally got an email from brand A telling me that my resume was forwarded to the appropriate department for review. I found out from a friend that works there that they are planning on hiring two additional engineers in the office in Lampertheim. The office is planned to be moved in July to Bensheim, which has very good train service from DA. Mal schauen.

I need sleep.

thrown together

2007-02-22T22:40:00.000+01:00

What a day. I woke up with a slight hangover and really bad heartburn. I went with Helmi to visit our doctor, who is out sick recovering from a retinal detachment. We schimpf’d about our work and drank lots of red wine and ate lots of bread and cheese. I tried not to stay so late but the time just flew by. I got six hours of sleep, which was far too little. Our weekly team meeting was to be attended by the president today, and I planned on getting to work early to set up the laptop. The pres told me last week that he knows a lot about the costs, but hasn’t seen the design yet. He asked me to present the design to him at today’s meeting. I worked on getting some pictures together last Saturday, not for me but for my pushy PM for his presentation on our project from hell. He was to give the presentation tonight at the management circle meeting.

I made it to work with time to spare to set up the laptop and put my hair up. Today is a non hair washing day. I only wash my hair every other day; otherwise it gets totally dried out. It actually feels better and more manageable on the second day but it is usually too flat to wear it down.

The PM decided to give his presentation for all of us this morning. He made good use of the pictures I made. When the meeting ended the pres invited the whole team to come to the management meeting this evening. Right before lunch I was asked if I would present the mechanical part of the PM’s presentation. I accepted with only hours to go before the meeting. I had seven slides to put language to and about two minutes for each slide. I am constantly a victim of management by surprise.

The PM had a few weeks to prepare the presentation, and I had merely a couple of hours. Seat of your pants presentations are the best. I was able to at least give my speech in English, which makes it easier even though I still get nervous. I am somewhat embarrassed by my voice, but I did it anyway. It went well, but I felt a bit off my game. I suppose it was the lack of preparation that made me most nervous. I like having enough time to think about the matter to present, at least long enough to come up with a strategy for the presentation. I hope it didn’t sound too thrown together. The PM thanked me and told me I did a good job. He shits on me constantly and the complements are hard to come by.

I felt a bit awkward about presenting the design since I am as good as gone from the group. It is only a matter of time before I start my new position in powertrain. I was told today that we won a large contract for VW for several powetrain machines. I have an appointment scheduled with the pres tomorrow to tell him I will take the powertrain gig. I wonder who they will get to fill my current position. I am just a slight bit disappointed that I am moving on before the machine is finally finished. I guess it is as good as finished anyway. I will probably work on it for a few more weeks, just long enough to get everything ordered. I can still enjoy seeing it go together over the next few months. I hope I have done everything right.

I wonder what kpo is up to. I hope she is ok. If you are reading this drop me a line.

there is hope

2007-02-15T23:29:00.000+01:00

I met with the pres today to discuss my (possible) future with the company. It was a very positive meeting for me. He must have looked at his calendar because he was prepared for our meeting. I was there to speak with him about my time contract slowly come to an end. He had spoken with the pres at the detroit office where I used to work if they had interest in having me back. They do, but detroit is the last place I want to move back to, except maybe to be around my friends again. I had applied last week at a competitor online while I was playing hookie from work. I had to leave work for an hour or so to try to get my head back together after a technical discussion degraded into a shouting match. In the end I ultimately won because I kept my design intact. ha! I have been overwhelmed with impossible deadlines and cost targets.

Hopefully they one day see once the machine is finally built how easily and quickly it goes together why I put up such a fight. I am proud of what I have accomplished, and once it exists in steel the real reward comes. I don't care if anyone else likes it or not. I had also spoken with the team manager from the powertrain group last week if he had interest in having me work with him. He told me he did and recommended that I speak with the department manager. Apparently there was already talk about me and another modularising project, but this time without all the needless other people mixed in, and in powertrain group. Powertrain machines are much more of a technical challenge, because if it isn't designed right it will eat itself or fly apart into chunks of schrapnel. The operator views the machine through bulletproof glass if that is any indication of the potential for catastrophic failure. I spoke with the department manager on friday afternoon and he explained what they wanted me to do for them. He asked that I think about it and let the team leader know by wednesday if I wanted it.

I tried to find the team leader yesterday, but I never caught up with him. I saw him today and told him that I wanted to join his group. He responded by telling me he was glad, but they had already made their "suggestion" to the pres that I join their group. Just as well. It is nice to feel needed and appreciated for my technical expertise and experience (and my charming personality). A real plus is getting away from the depressing environment I have been in for over a year. The project managers have totally gone off the deep end. Their attitudes are de-motivational which makes it quite a challenge to simply remain self motivated enough to get the work out. I need out or I will do something I will probably live to regret.

The hope is still there. More on this later.

xxx files

2007-01-26T22:40:00.000+01:00

edited 29.01.2007

I went back to work yesterday feeling like an idiot for doing so. I should have stuck to my principles and not answered the phone last Friday. I really need to keep my mouth shut and not talk about how their guilt trips make me feel. The project managers immediately got on my case and tried to suppress my ill feelings toward them and the company. It didn’t work. I need a new job, and that fact was never more so blatantly obvious to me as it became today. After spending almost six weeks away from the depressing chaos and constant stress I feel I can look at it objectively and it all seems so pointless. My heart isn’t in it anymore. It’s time to move on, but right now is not the best time to make a break. Or, maybe it is…

I had a great time in A’dam. I originally planned on staying for four nights, but I extended my stay by two nights. It proved worth it. Here’s the story: (it’s a long one)

I boarded the ICE train in Ffm bound for A’dam at 1:30 in the afternoon. There was a storm coming in from the North Sea coast that threatened to disrupt rail service. The train went as far as Arnheim and then dumped everyone out with no info on what comes next. It was blowin’ a gale with rain mixed in just for fun. I met another trans person from Berlin and we kept each other company. Her name was quite unique, she’s French, but I’ll call her S. She is a punk psychobilly rocker lady boy. The lady boy I got from her knuckle tats. She is totally fucking hardcore, so we had a good time chatting and drinking.

We eventually boarded a train that was going as far as Utrecht, which we arrived at by 8pm. The station was full with stranded people and a very annoying announcement both in Dutch and English was repeated every five minutes. The thing that really got me was that in the Dutch message they mentioned there was free coffee at the kiosks, but I guess not for the English speakers. We found a place to sit and just sat there bullshitting and drinking Heinekens. She would step into the ladies room every once in while to do a line of speed. She had lots of old school tats all over her body. Eventually her friend from A’dam came to pick us up and she dropped me at my hotel at 1am. It was so nice to be liberated from that awful train station.

Friday morning I rented a shitty bike at Mike’s Bike Tours which was conveniently located on the same street as my hotel. The bike was really awkward to ride and the wind from the storm made walking seem like a better idea. I went to Xantippe bookstore to look for feminist lit. They had a very small selection of uninteresting books. I spoke with the woman working and she told me that they don’t have a very good selection of feminist lit “because nobody buys it”. She was nice enough and somehow must have sensed that I am a lez because she pitched me the L word second season dvd set. If you buy the set they have a promotional L bag as a free gift. I went for it because I had heard so much about the show whilst in the states, and I had forgotten to bring my city bag. I also bought books on Joan of Arc and feminism and geography. She mentioned that I could get some of the first and second wave titles I was looking for at a women’s second hand bookstore, but they had just moved to Utrecht. I asked for the name anyway, vrouwenindruk was it.

I went to de dampkring for a smoke and a latte. I asked one of the servers about something I had there before, and before I knew it she was speaking to me in Dutch. She remembered I spoke to her in English eventually and then apologized saying she thought I was Dutch because I looked Dutch. How’s that for blending? I think I look European, by the way. Then I was in the bathroom and one of the bartenders was in there. I said hello and then she said she hadn’t seen me for a year and asked where I’ve been. I told here that I hadn’t been there for over a year and maybe she was thinking of someone else. (the last time I was still in male mode) After I left I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a subtle come on or her just being friendly? Maybe it was just the coffee.

As I was walking away from de dampkring I noticed the book sale was going on in the Spui. I perused the different vendors and saw a book on Freud, a couple of feminist books I wanted but in Dutch, an art nouveau graphics book, and one on Gustav Klimt. I wanted to buy the Klimt book because it had a lot of his pencil doodling and sketches. I didn’t buy anything as I was worried about my luggage. I thought the klimt sketches would be good inspiration for a jugendstil tattoo. Somehow I have a feeling I will be going back there sooner than I know it.

I ate dinner later in the evening at Rakang Thai. I had a roast duck dish that was just rightly sweet-hot curried, but some of the meat was rather tough. The bamboo chairs had interesting cotton strips with elastic banding to hold it all together as seat and back. They were really comfortable for a bamboo chair and creative as well. After dinner I went to get some money at the dam and then to find where a squat called chequepoint was. That was where the Buttkraaker cabaret was supposed to be. I knew it was the building by the symbols on the windows.

I went to Saarein II later for a couple of wit beers and ended up staying there all evening. I met an interesting woman from Dutch Guyana with nice braids, we’ll call her T. After a while of talking I asked her if she could write her name out for me in my journal to help me to remember it. Many of the Dutch given names of the people that I met on this trip were totally foreign to me. She ended up giving me her number too, for the next time I am in town I should call her to go for a drink. She introduced me to many different people as they came and went. The bartender was really cool, chit chatting with me when she had a second to spare. The place was jam packed at about midnight. I left at about 1am and T said she would be at YouII on Saturday if I wanted to go dancing. I had a really good time at Saarein II. I do have this nagging feeling that I should have gone to the Buttkraaker just to see what it was like. Which door was that g?

Saturday I got up fairly late and missed breakfast by a couple of hours. I was hoping to get up early enough at least to make it to the Waterlooplein flea market because I was on the hunt for some new silver adornments. I missed it completely. By then I had realized that I had left my nice green hat in our savior’s car on Thursday night. Bummer. I decided my head was way too cold without a hat, so I decided to go looking for a new one. I found nothing like I had, only crap from the Turks and H&M. I got something to get me through because there is always at least a light wind there. I went to café April for a coffee to see what that was like; it was kind of a drag. I left there to go back to the hotel to get ready for the evening and walked down Vijzelstraat (sp) to try to find where Sappho was. I got some shitty pizza for a quick dinner and ate it while watching the first episode of the L word. It seemed more like soft porn than a cable TV show.

After getting cleaned up I headed over to Rembrandtplein where Saturday night was in full swing. I popped into Vive La Vie for a couple of drinks before going over to YouII which is conveniently right around the corner, literally. I sat along the window for a while trying to get a feel for the place. One of the bartenders was about seven feet tall, at least it seemed like it. I went to the bar to get a beer and a couple sat in my spot at the window. There was nowhere else to sit, so all I could do was stand there and felt stupid because I was the only one that was without someone to talk to in the whole place. At least it felt that way. I finished my beer and decided to get my things to go. I walked over to the window to get my stuff together and a woman slid over to make room for me to sit. I was a bit miffed at the situation already so I nodded in thanks to her but still got ready to leave and I did. Afterwards I wondered if I should have sat down instead of leaving. I probably would have ended up talking to her at least, oh well I’m such a dork even as a girl.

I went to YouII around the corner for a while. The music wasn’t too bad, as bad as bad can get, it’s all relative I guess. There was a really younger crowd there, but it seemed better than the harsh reviews I had read about it. I hung out until 1am but didn’t end up meeting up with T at all. I stopped by de dampkring on the way back to the hotel for another wit beer.

I was relatively lazy on Sunday morning and didn’t end up getting out of the hotel until 2pm. I went to the Begijnhof to sit and read for a while until I got cold and left. I just wiki’d Begijnhof and found it dates back to the late 1300’s. The ground level inside is a meter below the rest of the city. I went over to Sappho to get something to eat and warm to drink. I finished reading The Female Eunuch there. I know what I will do, do you? Sappho seemed like a chill place to hang, but I was the only person there other than the bartender. She was playing some nice old Billie Holiday for me while I ate my ham and cheddar toasties, dipping them in catsup. I was skeptical about the ketchup, but it was delicious.

I left Sappho and walked over to Saarein II for the noodles café. Apparently they were celebrating their 5th anniversary. I got there just as one of the organizers started to give a speech, unfortunately for me she/he gave it in Dutch. I sat down near an Asian man, who turned out to be a transman, who turned out to be the organizer of the transgender filmfest in Amsterdam. He asked about the transgender community around Ffm, but unfortunately I didn’t have much to say about it. Frankfurt is kinda lame in respect to the nightlife, but what do you expect from a banker’s city? I will probably go to the filmfest this year. After a little bit a tall and attractive woman sat next to me, and we started chatting. She is a photographer and cinematographer and very interesting. The noodles party was breaking up to get ready for bingo. I bought a card myself. Me and, J we’ll call her, went upstairs to the loft level so we could better hear the bingo numbers being called. J and I had fun with the bingo, chatting and laughing at the number lady. We didn’t win anything, bummer.

J mentioned that she was working on different photo projects among other things. She also told me that she goes to Lelebelle’s once in a while to hang out. She asked if I wanted to go there with her for a drink. I was curious about the place so I decided to go with. The cute bartender from Friday night was there, she waved and smiled at me as we left. We talked a bunch more on the way over to Lelebelle’s. J introduced me to a few people that were sitting at the bar. There was a short pudgy guy playing some sort of gambling game that became the first man there to overtly lust after me. J told me that she wanted to photograph me sometime, but she had to leave to go home and work on a project. We exchanged numbers and emails and she was off. About a minute after she left me a Middle Eastern guy started to come on to me. I refused his lustful advances, but they just kept on coming. He even asked me how much money it would take for me to sleep with him. That was it, I got up and left that place utterly disgusted. Being in a place like that made me feel dirty. It reminded me of Playland in Boston’s combat zone. It feels like I am in one of those cartoons where the characters are starving and one looks at me and I turn into a steak or a turkey. Meat. I am not a fuck puppet.

Ibrahim was standing in the doorway as I was walking away, calling to me to come back. I decided to go to see what was going on over at Vive La Vie on the way home. I went in for a beer but it was way too crowded so I finished my beer and left. The super tall bartender man was there again. I went to de dampkring for another wit beer before going back to the hotel. I didn’t realize that I had too many wit beers until I decided to walk home. Good thing the hotel wasn’t far away.

On Monday I got up fairly early to eat breakfast and check to see if I could stay a couple of days longer at the hotel. The hotel was no problem, but I would forfeit my train ticket if I didn’t use it that day. Oh well, I got a super deal of half price anyway. I took advantage of the hotel’s laptop to check email and do some research. I found the vrouwen in druk bookstore site and their new address in Utrecht. I decided that I would go there on Tuesday afternoon because I had nothing better to do. I went out to get a late lunch/early dinner at an Italian joint. I had a three course meal that was very tasty, but I was seated too close to the front door and it was cold. I felt like shit most of the day, feeling like I couldn’t get warm no matter what I did. I went back to the hotel and watched a marathon of the L word while lounging in bed. J sent me a text message asking if I wanted to do a photo shoot at her place on Tuesday night. I accepted and then went to sleep.

I got up much later than I intended and had to rush to get the things done I had planned on so I would be on time to meet J that evening. I went up to the central station to buy another ticket back to Ffm that cost me 74 euro. There weren’t any cabin seats available, so I got a normal window seat instead. I bought a day ticket to Utrecht and waited for the next train. I used the GPS on my PDA to lead me to the bookstore address. I went inside and asked the woman if she had a copy of the Dialectic of Sex by Firestone. She seemed a bit perturbed at first but then she loosened up after a few minutes. She was flustered for a moment because she had seen a copy of it earlier in the day but couldn’t remember where it was. Then she found it. I bought it and also another Germaine Greer book and A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Wollstonecraft. She recommended contacting her through the web next time because it was so much easier for all concerned. I told her that it was convenient for me to go there, so I did. I was happy to get the books that I was looking for. I am turning into such a Feminist.

I rode back to A’dam and then got on a tram to go to the hotel. I got out at the Spui to run by de dampkring to stock up for the long winter hibernation. I walked back to the hotel to drop my stuff and get changed for going to meet J. I ran up to the grocery to get a bottle of wine and then hopped a tram to A'veen. I was about a half an hour late, so much for good time management. We went to her apartment and started off with enjoying a glass of wine and we chatted for a bit. She showed me some of the photos from her projects. We decided to eat before taking some pics. She made tomato basil soup with ciabatta bread and a salad. It was all very tasty and warming, and our conversation was very nice. I felt like I could talk to her about anything and everything.

I am anxious to see how the pictures came out. We had another glass of wine together and then it was time to leave. She walked me to the tram and saw me off. I wanted to ask her if her interest in me was purely creative, or if there might have been something there romantically as well. I didn’t want to push my luck, so I enjoyed myself and if something were to happen I would let her make the first move. That situation was another example of me wondering if there were signs that I was missing, or if I was just hoping too much for something to happen. It all seems so complicated, so I prefer to take the situations for face value and enjoy the moments as they come without any preconceived notions. I had a very nice time with J that evening.

The train ride home was a total bummer. I had to take a regional train to Arnheim to pick up the ICE there. The train was mostly empty so I sat right behind the engineer, practically looking over his shoulder. That was neat to see the world going by at 300+ kmh. We made it as far as Cologne and then they announced that there was an accident with human injury along the high speed track between Cologne and Ffm, and it was closed. We would end up following the Rhein until Koblenz and inland to Fraport. The detour cost me about three extra hours to get home.

I had much fun in A’dam as usual, but it wasn’t the usual fun. I faced some of my insecurities this trip and found they were just that, insecurities. I met some wonderful and interesting people that I hope to meet again in the future. I have also learned more about myself and about different situations. I think that’s enough for now, I will probably discuss the events more, or maybe I will just keep it to myself and my moleskine. I might edit in some links at a later date.

of life, love, and feminism...

2007-01-17T12:53:00.000+01:00

This always seems to happen on my vacations of the past few years. I become so lazy and sedentary. I do however seem to remember in my last days of work of 2006 that I was looking forward to just doing “nothing”. I have achieved that goal. I had plans to tailor an overcoat and make some more jeans, and possibly paint my putrid apartment. I have done lots of reading though, something that I haven’t had the ambition to do since reading the sagas of the Icelanders a few years ago. From now on I plan to always have a book to read with me when I know I will have some idle time. Either at bedtime or when I am on the train to Ffm for example. There are so many classics that I have always wanted to read, and of course feminism is my current interest.

I am almost through with reading “The Female Eunuch”. I have about forty pages to go which I will probably read on the train to Amsterdam tomorrow. Many of the ideas that Greer presented in the book I agree with, and agree need to change if man-and-womankind is to veer off the path to self destruction. Her book is not so much an indictment of men only, but rather an indictment of the societal norms that were constructed by patriarchy. She skillfully unravels the tightly wound paradigms of contemporary society. Most of the paradigms and their detriment are known, but she also lends a historical account of how many neutral paradigms were twisted by patriarchy to serve its purpose. What I take away from her commentary is that patriarchy has defeated itself by creating an absurd set of norms that in the end are not only of detriment to women, children, and society as a whole, but especially to men as well.

I agree with the women’s liberation movement and feminism because they sought to bring about necessary changes to societies that are doomed to self destruction without change. I have merely scratched the surface at this point in time, but I can definitely see how the different degrees of feminist ideology came to exist. I would characterize myself as feeling the radical side of moderate, sort of medium-well if you will. I choose this position because the radical element is an indication of mobility, or to actively pursue and foster change. The immobile extreme is to have no knowledge or at the very least awareness, but to do nothing with it. One flavor of the radical extreme is the separation of men and women, which in itself is also a means to self destruction. In my opinion, separatism is thinly veiled hate, and hate is never a good thing obviously.

Although I agree and identify with many of the thoughts presented as feminism, I hesitate to drape another label around my neck, as there are already too many of them there already. I would rather characterize my feelings as more humanistic in nature. This is an effort to bring everyone to the table, rather than further reinforce the absurdity of black and white gender norms of female and male. My transition from one to the other in and of itself from an outside perspective accomplishes just that. But to me personally having lived through part of it, I feel more and more that I will end up being neither. I have accepted the fact that I will become perhaps more female than male, but never fully achieving either. The best characterization would be a female flavored eunuch. I am becoming more comfortable with that reality every day of my life.

Parallel to my research in feminism, I have also been reading lots about transgenderism. Transgenderism transcends mere male and female norms and challenges what it means to be human by exposing and stripping away the absurdity of the dichotomy of the two gender system. When I contemplate the historical accounts of feminist literature, it would seem that it all started to go wrong somewhere just before the renaissance. Organized religion, Catholicism in particular, helped shape the evolution of gender and gender roles in society as we know them today. Transgenderism is slowly succeeding to erode that warped evolution and bring about change through fostering awareness that there are humans that exist between the two polarized identities. I am excited to be living in such a time where I am an active participant in helping to change society for the better. By simply functioning in society as a transgender person, I am challenging those who meet my acquaintance to consider their own feelings about gender, sex, and sexuality. I think that I would like to become involved with activism, or at the very least participate in discussions with others with similar and differing opinions.

I have done some research to try to find any discussion groups in my immediate area. I haven’t found any yet, but I will keep looking. Or, perhaps start one somewhere, somehow. Occasionally I have gone to a local women’s center with some friends. If I am to be honest, it would be more accurate to call it a Lesbian center. I had apprehensions about going to such a place because I was afraid I would be met with some sort of feministic confrontation. I was met with no confrontation, but I get a strong feeling of contempt from some of the women there. As I delve deeper into the texts, I often wonder just how many women have actually read what I am reading. Feminism and the women’s liberation movement have gained a bad reputation over the past thirty years, as far as I can tell due to ignorance and extremism backlash.

The contempt that I can feel coming from the looks on people’s faces is discouraging. As I enrich myself and become better versed in feminism, I wish somehow that I could turn the immobilizing contempt into a lively discussion. I don’t expect to convert everyone that I meet to buy into my transgenderist or my feministic interpretations, but to at least lend my perspective and also listen and try to understand their perspective. I guess my underlying motive is to legitimize myself in the eyes of others. I can only hope to accomplish this once I have done it for myself, and I am working on it. I also realize that a bar isn’t exactly the best place to have such discussions, but throughout history/herstory that is exactly where some important discussions took place. One example could be the discussions that took place in colonial Boston leading up to the revolutionary war in America.

I won’t try to deny that my reasons for research into feminism are for purely personal enrichment. Although I feel this research is beneficial to me as I become more woman-like, I also see it as my acceptance of my own sexual identity and sexuality. I realize that I need not lend credibility to my sexuality to anyone other than myself, but considering that I label my sexuality as Lesbian or gay woman, it seems of utmost importance. While I haven’t fooled myself into thinking that being a card carrying feminist will get me dates, I will able to at least hold my own when questions about my motives do come. I will have at least formed my own opinions and be able to lend credibility to the shell with certain obvious labels pasted on it that I call my outward appearance. I wish that my presence invoked inquisitiveness and not the unfortunate contemptuous and resentful stares. I do not want to be the center of attention, I am much too shy in nature for that, but rather to be accepted and perhaps not even noticed for being trans but for being a person, a fellow human. That would be nice for a change.

All of this philosophy is helping me to make more informed choices for my future. It is causing me to think more about things I take for granted. Most importantly it is stimulating me to think. I think more about the changes that I am imposing on my body. I think more about my mannerisms and dress. I’m not sure it will change much about me, but it will at least help me better understand why I am the way I am.

In contemplating my perhaps eventual sexual reassignment surgery, I have started thinking about the concept of being “complete” that so many of my comrades mention. I am realizing more and more that being complete in my context is an ideal that cannot be reached. In terms of the physical perhaps attainable with slight psychological implications, but complete by whom’s definition? I think most operative transsexuals are lured into believing that surgery will complete them, and many are disappointed to find that after surgery not much has changed other than their physical self. Complete-ness to me implies a static state, immobility. As long as one is still breathing, one can never be complete.

It is through these revelations that I have decided to begin to actively pursue and explore my sexuality as a transwoman. I have realized that my current state of having as penis, and perhaps later a neo-vagina, realistically will only affect sexual intercourse. What is between my legs is as ambiguous now to people who see me clothed as it will be after surgery. What I am getting at is I am learning to place less and less importance on my genitalia, and more and more on who I am as a person. In realizing there is much more to life than mere sex, as the hormones have taught me, I have been able to remove the restrictions I had consciously imposed on myself relative to dating and such. I do also realize that saying or writing this is much easier than the actual practice of it will be. I will need courage to walk into an exclusively women’s night for example. It all comes down to self confidence which without testing it, I will never know if I have enough.

Another point that I wanted to note is that I have been getting better at letting go of the things or situations that I cannot change. Throughout my life I have put forth much too much effort in maintaining relationships that were clearly one-sided. I would often try too hard to make something out of nothing, and in the end being disappointed at the outcome or lack thereof. I know this is very vague, so I will try to lend some substance to it. Before my vacation began I tried to contact a friend and their family. It didn’t really work out the way I had hoped for, and in reflection realized I was trying too hard to make something happen borne of purely nostalgic feelings. I guess it doesn’t hurt to try to maintain contact with people I consider dear to me, but at some point the interest must be also there from the other side. Life can be as complicated or as simple as one makes it.

In reading The Female Eunuch I was presented with Altruism, and realized that word gave language to a strong facet of my personality. As much as I doubt I could totally change my altruistic nature, I have been at least trying to subvert it by being a bit more discerning with how I direct my efforts to save the world at my own expense. My therapist exposed me to a mechanism of my altruism, my tendency to make decisions for others. It was a situation where I had decided to “lend” someone some financial support before they even asked me. I had already decided for myself that this person would not survive without my help, instead of leaving the difficult decision to the actual person in need to make for themself. In a way my behavior is selfish when I really look at it in that context. It all gets rather confusing, because at face value it would seem that I was being un-selfish by helping the other person. This isn’t making much sense to me at least, but I have a feeling I am on my way to sorting it out.

I am thankful to have this free time to read, write and contemplate things that serve to further my intellectual development as a person. In proofreading this post, I have noticed there are many incomplete ideas, so I will probably either edit for clarity or expound on the ideas in future posts. Whoever reads this should feel free to comment also. I would welcome discussion and suggestions for further reading.