Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

Gadz. Yesterday was exhausting. It's a highly dramatic analogy, but it felt like we were all skipping aboot on a field of green grass and daises (doesn't everyone feel that way about work?) and then, next thing everyone knew, we're lined up against a wall and higher management takes aim. Bullets are whizzing by, it's a whirlwind, friends are getting hit and collapsing. Tears galore. On one hand it's sad to see them hit and then, on the other, everyone who's still standing is wondering who's going to get shot next. It's like I dodged a bullet and, once the bullets stopped whizzing by, I kind of stumbled off of the bloody field through a haze of smoke shell shocked thinking, " what just happened? " Moral of the highly dramatic not even entirely relevant analogy: I was really tired last night. I usually volunteer until 9pm but left early to go home to get some rest. I actually ended up popping pimples and staying up late watching Prison Break w

Co-workers are being fired left and right. The economic depression is really hitting us and it became real today when I went to the break room to make a sandwich and my co-worker was in tears. She had just been fired. No warning. She just came in and, next thing she knows, she doesn't have a job. An entire web of people were fired today. Some on my team, people I've been working with every day for the past few years. There's obvious tension in the air. I see the look of concern on everyone's faces. Most conversations are permeated with fear and tension, having no idea what to expect tomorrow or the day after. I feel a lot of sympathy for everyone who walked in today to discover they don't have a job and a lot of anxiety for the rest of us who are still here. For my own situation I'd gone most of my life not feeling too much anxiety over the prospect of ever losing a job. Then again, I've never been a working adult during an economic depression,

My chest exam went well this morning. Due to my concern that I'd potentially found a lump when I uncomfortably self-examined last week, I made an appointment with the closest place I could that would get me in the fastest - the primary objective being: get exam ASAP! I would've felt more comfortable waiting to see my for-sure trans-aware/friendly doctor, but the urgency compelled me to shoot in the dark and make an appointment with any doctor I could. I knew nothing about my doctor - gender, history, how this person would react to my being trans or the impact that would have on my exam. All I knew was that the hospital had rearranged some appointments to get me in faster and that this doctor had an opening. I intentionally decided not to bind even though it was uncomfortable, especially now that I've experienced the sheer irresistible relief of it. However, I did wear a hoodie with a tight wind breaker that compresses to some extent and that helped. It also gave me less t

Last week I met a friend for lunch who mentioned that her sister went through a "natural transition" due to something called polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), which I'd never heard of before. Apparently it's an endocrine disorder that can naturally occur in some biological women. According to Wikipedia, common symptoms of PCOS include: * Oligomenorrhea, amenorrhea — irregular, few, or absent menstrual periods. * Infertility, generally resulting from chronic anovulation (lack of ovulation). * Hirsutism — excessive and increased body hair, typically in a male pattern affecting face, chest and legs. * Hair loss appearing as thinning hair on the top of the head * Acne, oily skin, seborrhea. * Obesity: one in two women with PCOS are obese. * Depression. * Deepening of voice Uh, sound familiar? I was completely fascinated to hear about this, especially in regards to its relation to the gender binary and the stereotypes associated with biological males and female

Earlier today I attended a very rainy rally in support of the Common Ground Initiative (which are a series of 6 bills - more info here !) that stem from statements the LDS Church made during and after California’s Proposition 8 campaign like " we’re not anti-gay " and " the Church does not object to rights for same-sex couples. " Oh, and also, Elder L. Whitney Clayton even explicitly stated the LDS Church does not oppose " civil unions or domestic partnerships. " Meaning, marriage is not the issue in this case, basic civil rights are; like housing & workplace protection (in Utah it's legal to fire someone if they're even perceived as being LGBT), death benefits, expanded health care for partners, etc., which everyone - including members of the LDS Church - can entirely agree with. In fact, something really inspirational is that three statewide polls have been released in the past week, including one by the SL Tribune and Equality Utah showi

I was successful at doing my own injection last night ! That whole hand shaking fiasco didn't kick in, fortunately, and I was able to perforate myself and slowly slide that evil, long needle in; felt it go through various layers of thigh meat. I have evolved from my diapers of shaking and whimpering to my underroo's of self-injection. It probably isn't as big of a feat as I'm making it out to be, but stabbing one's self is a bit against the grain of my intuitive human nature! I can't help but to feel proud. And mighty. My friend came over to be on standby in the event that hand shaking nonsense kicked up again. She had the most supportive, calming attitude. " Mel, you're not shaking one bit, you're doing just fine. Just stick it in, it's no biggie... ", and then, once it was in, " Ooo, good job! Now remember to slide it back, see if there's any blood... " She was great. The process turned out to be tremendously easy and s

THE AIR. Last night when I attempted to bicycle home, I literally couldn't. It felt like there were a million daggers stabbing my lungs and a constant feeling of bile creeping up my esophagus. My eye balls were burning, trying to see through the fog of inversion. Gulping down the air was difficult and I could taste some kind of gasoline'ish film in my throat. In my 9 years of bicycle commuting I'd never experienced anything this intense air-wise. I peddled to the nearest train station and looked up the times. Seeing that the next train would be coming in 30 minutes, I traveled up the street, feeling like I was about to puke the entire way, until I got to a coffee shop, ordered a drink, and hid inside. I was NOT looking forward to leaving my new found bunker to travel half a block in that air to the train station, but I did, eventually got home, and looked online to see what the hell was up. To my horror, I found stuff like this: MyFoxUtah: Utah Declared Worst Air In

Ding dong the witch is dead! Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch! Today is an inspiring, refreshing day! Obama being our next President is actually a reality, finally, even though he's taking office amid a dismal economic depression and with the U.S. still immersed in two wars. In 2000, nine years ago, I had just turned 18. I remember feeling so enthusiastic and giddy to vote for the first time - and in a presidential race, to boot! As we all know, it was in that election that the popular vote had gone to Gore, yet the Electoral College, for the 15th time ever in the history of the United States, voted against the popular will and made George W. Bush President. I remember feeling pretty betrayed and confused. Then the past 8 years happened. New Orleans was just, ... unbelievable. The unilateral invasion of other countries like we're some kind of theocratic empire with an oil baron king. The raping of our constitution and our civil liberties. Torture. On and on. Essential

If blogging is out of my element, photo documentation is even further out in the element ball park. What's on an another planet altogether is video documentation. Still, here's the thang. My voice just started cracking a couple of weeks ago and I want to catch it while it's high pitch central and to be able to look back on that change later down the road. Since the thickening of my vocal chords will be very gradual, I'm going to record my voice every so often to document that change. Here goes!

Oh no he didn't! There existed a solid and comfortable little land; one of mountains and green hills, coffee shops and bicycles. But, by some curious chance one morning in the quiet of this world, when there was less noise and more green and the trannies n’ friends were still numerous and prosperous (I may be exaggerating just a little here), a great dark cloud emerged and a thunder roared from the not so-distant land of Herriman, Utah. Alone in this dark world lay a little sanctuary called the Ching Farm Animal Rescue . There was a time when this sanctuary experienced a peace and calm in this land, but a dark and hyper conservative undercurrent had begun to consume it piece by piece, building and pillaging, and in no time at all it was covered with strip malls, cookie cut neighborhoods, golf courses and, right across the little dirt road, an LDS church. All surround the little green sanctuary and its animal friends, now being forced to sell and move as soon as they possibly ca

The fact that I have a blog is very bewildering to me. I've never had any urge, whatsoever, to use an online journal to share anything private about my life. Maybe to share things I'm interested in comically or politically, but, about me ? No way, no how. The me I've known my entire life has been fiercely private about, well, me. Especially this . This being a collection of puzzle pieces that manifested when puberty rolled around and estrogen kicked in. Funny things started happening in funny places, but I subconsciously ignored these changes and blundered along, albeit uncomfortably. I kept this discomfort to myself while opting to utilize the vast and magical Interwebs for any sign of not being alone. Low and behold, I eventually came across terms like female-to-male , transgender , transsexual , and, from that, found communities full of stories and experiences strikingly similar to mine. Even though I'd relate to the why behind many of these transitioning sto

I feel so relaxed right now. I just got home from volunteering for hours out at the Ching Farm Animal Rescue & Sanctuary with a few friends, which is located in Herriman, Utah - about a 20 minute drive from downtown Salt Lake City. It's more exhausting than it should be. I know that feeling this way is entirely a byproduct of being pampered city folk. I whimpered so much lifting things and coming across spider webs and trying to avoid slipping in poo that I was told that I " need more testosterone " and, " Aww, are your man muscles just developing? " Oh my friends are loving this new genre of masculine stereotype jokes. I have it coming. The sanctuary, by the way, is actually the home of an adorable couple who moved out there years ago with absolutely no intention of becoming a sanctuary. Low and behold, one injured, heart-wrenching farm animal after another came their way and it became the place that it is today where a bundle of pigs, horses, cows, m

Injection Day went very well and it was definitely the trans bonanza I'd hyped it up to be. The support group was good. It didn't feel like there was enough time and it's only my second time going, but so far it's really comforting and nice to just be around others who are going through different, yet very similar, experiences. It feels safe, reassuring, helpful. Immediately after the support group there was the TransAction (a local trans-advocacy group) meeting, where there were an amazing amount of people - around 20-30. It's refreshing to be around so many others who care about the "T" portion of LGBQ T and really desire to see more education, visibility, and bridge building in regards to it. So yes, that was super spiffy. Then Jude and I went to dinner and stuffed ourselves silly. Well, more like I did while she hung on to whatever scraps she could. I've been VERY good at controlling my ravenous appetite. Or so I think, anyway... or I'll c

Oh boy! So either I'm getting a cold OR my voice has started to crack. I'm err'ing on the latter, seeing as I have no other cold symptoms. Maybe I'm finally growing up and becoming a big boy! WikiHow has an article called How to Prevent Your Voice from Cracking , which offers the following, very helpful advice: 1. Get past the age of puberty. Everything's so weird and embarrassing, with the extra hair growth and the voice changes. Give it a couple of years, it'll peter out eventually. Your voice will even out too! Thanks, WikiHow! It's a little tragic, but also comforting, that I've entirely adapted to being a greasy, acne-ridden, bad smelling individual. Now it feels normal to squirt oodles of white pimple goo all over the bathroom mirror every night and I no longer notice my smell. Life is good. Enough about white pimps n' grease, I emailed a photo of my chest to my preferred surgeon for chest reconstruction surgery and got feedback

As I mentioned in my first post - and the entire reason it's taken me so long to start testosterone hormone therapy - I'm a bit of a prematurely aged safety nut. I've never tried alcohol (unless NyQuil counts). I've never tried recreational drugs. I'm vegan. I bicycle as my main form of transportation year-round. I try to work out every day. I weaning off sugar and soda pop. Moral of the story being, now that I have started hormone therapy, I've been very concerned about the immediate and long-term future here in regards to my uterus and ovaries. Despite having my transition plan that entails taking T for a max of 5 years, I'm anxious about increasing any long-term risks of liver damage or cancer of my completely unnecessary and obnoxious reproductive organs (uterus/endometrium, cervix, and/or ovaries). Hopefully I'm just being too cautious and there really isn't anything to worry about. Still, I am who I am, and this is what I do. The reality i