Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

Alright, now it's hitting me a bit. There's a little nugget of dread throbbing in my stomach, ready to pOp and let out a whole can of panicky worms - but I won't let it, dag nabbit. No way, no how. The little nugget manifested around the time I finally slowed down and got home, where I was greeted by my excited little furry feline friends, Theseus and Evilbunny (I named him when I was 12. Don't judge.) and my little rat friend, Ben. I immediately felt this twinge of failure stir in my gut and creep up my throat. I'm a horrible guardian , I thought. I have a responsibility towards my companion animals who are 100% dependent on me and they entirely deserve the security I've promised them . They were entirely oblivious to my guilt and just super uber happy to see me, purring and ready for treats and cuddles. I'd spent the day with my mom. She made me lunch and beamed all happy mom-style and we went to the gym together. It was nice. My brother took me to din

I got laid off today. Earlier today when I went stumbling into work the first thing that was said to me was, " A lot of people have been laid off today. " I could feel the aura of tension, anxiety, and sadness in the air. Numerous people were teary eyed and solemn. Then, before I even had a chance to login to my computer my work phone started ringing on my desk. The name of the H.R. person popped up on the caller ID. Ah damnit , I thought. When I answered he asked, " Hey Mel. Would you mind coming up to my office? " I immediately knew that this was the call. I've never experienced being laid off or fired before, so I couldn't at all predict how I'd react. Surprisingly, I didn't feel a wave of emotion. No fear or anxiety, or even shock. I didn't feel like it was surreal or that I was stunned, either. Just, that I'm one person out of millions that are have become unemployed in the United States. It's something I have no control o

I noticed yesterday while typing away furiously at work that I smelled like, well, mold . My own potent odor was distracting, in fact. Flattering bit of information to share, I'm aware. But it's true. And some times, the truth just isn't all that flattering. Especially a little over 3 months after starting hormone therapy. Prior to injecting myself with goop that has transformed me into an awkward acne-ridden greasy perspiring slightly hairier and horny 200 lbs mess of a thing, I could get away with showering once every few days. Longer if I really felt like it. It was no big thang. I could wash a pair of jeans and re-wear those jeans multiple times, only washing them when the filth became visibly apparent. Same logic applied to shirts. I could peddle around furiously on my bicycle, no problem. Even on the hottest days in the summer. I could work out in the morning and then go to work without showering. I didn't sweat profusely and had no potent, grody odor, n

Ooo ooo! Just a moment ago, the very.first.thing a project manager who I haven't worked with in some time said after I asked, What can I do ya for? was: " Your voice sounds deep today. Are you sick or something? "

My visit to the doctor last Friday wasn't as satisfying as I'd anticipated. Essentially, she's incredibly blunt and honest. She doesn't do the usual " don't worry " vague doctor shindig, but instead opts to tell me how it is. This is a good thing and I appreciate it, but, on the toss side, the news is rarely encouraging or what I'd prefer to hear. For example, I explained to her how I actually want to attempt to preserve a semblance of functioning and health in my reproductive organs throughout this process. She instantly assumed that I wanted to remain fertile (Gah! NO!), so I tried to clarify that I only care about not having them atrophy into my stomach or something - and, more importantly, to be able to function enough that they'll produce hormones and menstruate when I stop testosterone therapy. I suspect she's not used to necessarily caring about the preservation or monitoring of a trans guy's ovaries and uterus since, in most t

Today is hectic and I only have time to post a total of two spiffy things! First, Gender Outlaw started up a site called The Transman Mapping Project The idea is simple: just add your name or alias (it can be anonymous) and a marker to the map so that we can create a bird’s eye view of how transmen are spread out around the world. If you’ve ever had that feeling of being alone in your transition, a quick look at the map will show you otherwise. We really are everywhere! -Gender Outlaw Second and not at all related to this blog, my friend sent me a link to the neatest thing since vegan marshmallows earlier today - an article about this amazing quadruped robot called "BigDog". Watching it move around in the video is super surreal. Neat.

Injection time went well last night! I've got that shizzit down like a pirate knows how to fire cannons through portholes. I didn't get home until a little after midnight, but that whole ' Is this what jonesing feels like? " sensation I experienced last time wasn't present. Whew! Last time I injected into my left thigh (I'd always been injecting into my right) with the idea that I'm going to alternate between thighs. So last night I injected into my right thigh and, for some reason, it's become a bit painful. I can feel the needle slide through every layer of muscle like it's thicker or hardened when it used to have a seamless, slide-in-like-butta sensation going on. I just need to develop a little bot like this to do injections for me! Then I can just lay back and think about buttery textures and juicy centers while the bot determines the softest point of entry before sticking n' injecting! Genius. Anyway, right after work last night

Oh this is so cool . I have a little blog tracker that revealed to me this morning that someone found my little speck on the web by typing " stand to pee fat trans guy " into Google. With those key words, my blog is THE FIRST ONE to show up in the results. HA! It's a pretty accurate description these days, actually. Moving on. That whole wolf in a really cheap sheep costume analogy came kicking up again the other night when I was out causing mayhem with those two female friends of mine. Ugh. I'm also finding that it's hard not to blog about this constantly. Perhaps I should start up another blog that's sole purpose is dedicated to ranting and raving about the libidinous side effects of testosterone that weren't at all anticipated like this and most unfortunately are not placebo. So, back to a lame, classic, and not-at-all-accurate analogy I've used before - it feels like my adorably fluffy sheep friends will come along in their flock and say

Just this past week I've noticed some eenteresting reactions from strangers when it comes to processing which gender I am. More importantly and just to clarify, the point of my transitioning is NOT to be perceived as a cisgender male, but entirely to connect with my own body physiologically, completely irrelevant to the gender side of things. The change is just very uber gradual and it's hard for me to see and gauge on a daily basis - how strangers react to me is a soothing reminder that change is, in fact, happening. Some strangers have used male pronouns to address me even after I speak . Emphasis added because, in the past when someone would say Sir or He it would be instantly "corrected" and apologized for once I spoke. That isn't happening anymore. Last night, for example, I was off causing mayhem with a couple of female friends and when it came time to pay for our dinner the server asked them, " So he's paying the remainder? " When I s

Thinking about spending the next 2 - 3 years diligently saving while living with this sternum fat (disclaimer: not in reference to "breasts" overall, but how I feel about mine) is a really discouraging, daunting thought. Prior to coming out and starting my transition, I didn't anticipate that it would amplify a lot and actually become more difficult in many ways than it had been. Since change and hope have become a reality for me in regards to this part of my being, I've admittedly grown impatient. I waited until I just couldn't take it anymore before I snapped and made an appointment with a therapist for the first time in my life, which instantly led to coming out and starting testosterone. After spending 14 or so years repressing, ignoring, and letting it gnaw up my insides, my mind, my self-esteem... the lid just blew off the steaming kettle. I just want to finally.connect . I'm tired of it. I'm tired of stressing out. I'm tired of being

Alright, so here's a little bit o' strained viddy action from March 10th, marking day 90 of my transition !

I figured it was about time to do another pained and unflattering photo documentation. This cursed camera my parents gave me for Christmas. So yesterday, March 10th, marked 90 Days on Testosterone Cypionate . I also did a voice check, which I'll upload and post tomorrow. 90 Days on Testosterone Cypionate, 100mg every 2 weeks ( Click on images for larger, even less flattering versions - I'd prefer if you didn't, but the option does exist. ) Stomach (hair growth + fat redistribution): Getting some hardcore belly action where my body fat is most definitely redistributing. Ho ho ho. In addition, it's getting a tad bit hairier, which is demonstrated more clearly in the belly action shot below. Ooooh yeah, there we go. Look at therm li'l hairs! Still not enough to satisfy my cute Russian female friend, but getting there. One day. Eventually. Putt putt putt. Leg (hair growth + muscle development) A bit hairier. No difference in muscle tone that I'

Gender pronouns. What a mixed bag of predicament, that one. I've thought about this quite a bit, especially now that I'm transitioning and facing new, not entirely anticipated social pressures orienting around binary gender - both within the trans community and outside of it, which I'll ramble on aboot in a later post. For now, I'll try to stick to the nitty gritty of answering, " What pronouns do I prefer, and why? " Back in January I posted, "I'm noticing that people are just too confused by it, default on 'she', and it's exhausting to constantly explain genderqueer or how my transition is separate from my gender identity. I'm finding that I'm in a position where it's easier to just use language most people can understand, like "female-to-male", for example. Given the options 'he' or 'she', I feel much more comfortable with 'he'. So, at group yesterday, I said, "I'm starting

I saw Watchmen last Friday with a valiant nerd posse and I was entirely blown away. I'd read the comic book some time ago and recalled that it was an incredibly raw and realistic alternate United States where deconstructed super heroes emerged around the 1940s. As Hilary Goldstein put it in 2005: "No comic book has been the subject of more essays and serious literary discussion than Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' Watchmen. It has been named one of the 100 greatest novels of the past century by Time Magazine. Released 20 years ago, the 12-issue maxi-series was a groundbreaking achievement for comics. Written "for adults," Watchmen opened the doors for thought-provoking and intelligent comics in the mainstream. Two decades after its arrival, there is still no greater comic book." Being a fan of the comic with the political undertones, heroes, anti-heroes, a giant blue pecker, street-fighting lesbians and pirates... I was anxious about how Hollywood would

Yesterday I experienced some strange and entirely unfamiliar symptoms for most of the day. They got worse after every hour that passed. This is the first time I've ever felt weird or off on injection day, aside from feeling anxious and nervous the first few times. I don't feel any anxiety prior to injecting now, but, last night, I started to feel extremely dizzy. There was a whole lotta pressure swimming around in my noggin, to the point where my ears wanted to PoP! and my jaw continuously clenched. I felt irritable, angry, and moody. I couldn't help but wonder, " Is this what jonesing feels like? If not, what the heck is up? Am I getting sick? " Was I? Or was it something entirely not correlated? I'll know better after my next injection, if it happens again, but what I do know is that every one of those symptoms went away immediately after my injection and today I feel great . On a much more uplifting note, my pack n' pisser arrived on Wednesda

I catch myself every so often feeling incredibly uncomfortable and afraid about being so open about my transition. On some level, I feel a strong desire to huddle it all up inside and to stop blogging. To resist, I remind myself about why I'm out, why I'm blogging, and why I'm so open about the little kibbles and bits of transition. Growing up I was frequently 'mistaken' as a cisgender boy and would hear this abstract, foreign word used frequently to describe me: " androgynous ". I had no idea what that word meant, but I'd gathered that it had something to do with being perceived as a girl who'd be frequently mistaken as a boy. I felt offended by that word and by all of the gender confusion on a daily basis, mostly because it was generally seen by other children in a negative way that would result in teasing. Honestly, I remember feeling insulted. I'd look in the mirror and think that I wasn't a bad looking kid, but maybe I'd just a