Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

I'm off to take a road trip to Vegas, then San Diego, for a week with a few friends in just 4 hours! Beaches and sunshine, here we come!

Look what aired on the Dr. Oz show yesterday: It was a really good, positive 15 minute bit that the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation stated is, “one of the best 15-minute segments on transgender children to ever appear on national television."

Taken with my camera phone, as a temporary measure until I replace my actual camera's cord that had been nibbled up by a foster puppy:

As I've mentioned before, a few years ago I attended Salt Lake Community College. To briefly recap, even though I had a high GPA, I hit a road block that permanently weeded me out of academia - I couldn't afford tuition one semester. Like most students in the United States, I had taken out thousands of dollars in loans to gain access to school. But, having grown up low-income, I was terrified about facing a future consumed by debt. Especially knowing that I'm taking a huge risk with school in the first place, where, as a high school dropout, the likelihood that I'd be weeded out was high. So one semester I refused to take out financial aid. I attempted to pay for it myself, about $1,000, out-of-pocket. Soon, it was clear that this wasn't realistically possible. I was not able to pay for a semester out-of-pocket. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out how or where to get $1,000. So the college froze my records. As I worked to save up enough to pay my de

My parents are gym-going rock stars this week. They both joined me at 8am three mornings in a row. Last Tuesday morning, the manager was there. The manager who, for months now, I've been trying to get up the nerve to speak with. Just enough to express to him that with the changes I'll be experiencing from hormone therapy it's going to become increasingly difficult to use the women's locker room. Yet, I'm not prepared to walk into the men's locker room. I primarily want to relay to him that he has gender non-conforming customers who have a very difficult time navigating the gym, and if there's possibly an extra bathroom somewhere. Or a unisex stall, at least. I'm trying to get up the nerve. In the meantime, I have been walking in to the men's locker room with my dad in the morning. But I've only traveled far enough to get to the sinks and the bathroom stalls. The first time we entered together, I was terrified. My heart was literally racing and

Jude accompanied me earlier today to grab a charger kit for my scooter at a local bike shop. When I asked the employee if they carried scooter battery chargers, he told me that they didn't - but that a nearby business just up the street did. He provided me directions, starting with asking me if I knew there the strip club was. A landmark that he assumed I would know of. I did. Was this a "male bonding" moment? I'm not sure. But according to Jude who was standing quietly near me, it was. And ze theorized that if ze had asked the same question, the employee wouldn't have used the same landmark. Either way, it was definitely a first.

I think I've finally snapped out of my funk. For about 6 months I've been feeling really overwhelmed and hopeless. Then my brain and I had a very serious discussion. It went something like this: "You know what, noggin? I'm sorry that I've let you sink so low. I know that once you're down, it's hard to drag you back up again. How about this? If I promise to get enough sleep, to get up early, work out every morning, and eat better, will you return the favor by keeping my mood more stable and energy levels high?", to which my brain replied, "Yes, please! I'm tired of this funk! It's all over the place and, with your help, we can get this mess mopped up. I just need you to provide the tools I need to clean it up." And, with that epic discussion, we came to a mutual agreement, my brain and I. One concern that contributed to the onslaught of funkiness had much to do with losing my health insurance, which has really stressed me out. Bu