Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

UPDATE: A defense fund has been setup for Dr. Nicola Riley! Charges against my doctor, Nicola Riley, have been DROPPED . The prosecution was unable to find a single reputable expert witness to testify at their conveniently timed anti-choice witch trial. A lot of unfortunate damage has been done - but, this is great news.

Well this explains the increase in the price of my testosterone cypionate. Fortunately I now have in my possession an approximately 6 month supply, but there really is a shortage. Gender Outlaw has been great about investigating this shortage that’s affecting the United States and Canada. From his most recent post : It looks like we’re at the tail end of this shortage, but with shortages becoming more common the following information may be helpful the next time this happens and you’re caught short… Testosterone Shortage Update: ETAs, Alternatives and Causes >

This semester has been crazy busy. So busy that I have a whole slew of gobblity gook I can’t wait to blog about. Oooooh has it accumulated. At long last, my Spring Break has begun. Am I off in a secluded cabin somewhere? Am I at a beach party trying to escape a prehistoric mutant piranha blood bath?! Well, close… but no cigar. I’m getting school stuff done. Ugh. See, here’s the problem. My academically warped sense of reality compels me to see this “break” as an opportunity to get stuff done. For example, tomorrow I’ll be working on submitting my summer research idea for IRB approval - which is a board that exists to make sure research involving human participants is ethical or not. What fun. My riveting research topic, by the way, involves anti-transgender prejudice and victim blaming. A little while back I came across something called the “just-world hypothesis”, which was developed by a feller named Lerner back in the 1960’s. A bit after Milgram had dabbled in his studies ...

… trying to figure out how I can pay for the required texts. Even with the privilege of not worrying about food or shelter, living with my parents, it is still a daunting challenge. Most semesters I’ve been able to find ways to work it out and some semesters I couldn’t. The semesters where I literally couldn’t afford my books made it very difficult to keep up and do well in class. I use a variety of strategies to figure out this book shindig, including checking out older editions from a the library, renting, finding used books or even online versions of old, outdated editions. This semester I’ve dug and clawed and whimpered and journeyed far to find any way I could possibly get out of spending at least $600. And alas - this time, it isn't happening. Situations like this really make it difficult to ignore how I feel about the way academia operates in the United States. Students work harder and take on more debt to get degrees whose value is open to question. Meanwhile, colleges...

Prior to starting hormone therapy a few years ago, I had literally resolved to stop dating. Zilch, done, ~fin~ . It was just, too painful and triggering. Every attempt was an incredibly potent reminder of how I was trapped in a body that felt disconnected and uncomfortable. It wasn’t worth crying every single time and spiralling into weeks of hopelessness. Without intimacy, I could wear a binder and never look at myself in the nude. Easy peasy. Solution foreva! But, the idea of hormone therapy scared me. Socially, I was adverse to the idea of losing my visible queerness. Health-wise, I was terrified to head down a path that insurance companies and numerous doctors explicitly exclude and discriminate against. There's limited research that hormone therapy in persons assigned female at birth may increase cancer risk, cause liver damage, increase cholesterol, acne, etc. This aversion was further compounded by all of the seemingly insurmountable logistics, such as finding a trans-...

For almost three years now I’ve been self-injecting. The very first time my hand quivered and I literally couldn’t do it - but every injection since then? No problem. It had become such a menial automaton task that when I switched from bi-weekly injection to every week it wasn’t no thang. But then, something happened. About a month ago. I don’t know what the hell it was, but when I went to self-inject, I just … couldn’t do it. This was a little over a month ago. I remember feeling extremely frustrated and confused over the whole ordeal and eventually cracked and had a friend help me. I figured that this was just a one-time anomalous incident. But no! Ever since, every Thursday, I can’t self-inject. I couldn’t even look until last week. What the hell? Seriously. So this morning I wake up, determined to self-inject. I get the needle ready, cleanse the injection site with an alcohol wipe, go for the plunge and… nothing. Couldn’t do it. I felt closer this time, but still froz...

My apologies in advance for what will probably be my most boring blog post yet - but, ya know, it happens. It’s only bound to get worse. Anyway, whenever we do in-class surveys in my Statistics class I’m always the “outlier” (illustrated in picture over this way —>). Every time for whatever reason I’m surprised; probably because I live in an oblivious bubble on planet trans zot. More on that later. We received the following three survey questions: What is your college GPA? What was your high school GPA? What is your gender? The moral? To compare the differences. In the land of highschool, I received all D's and F's and ultimately dropped out, so I answered “1.0”. But in college, I'm doing well. ( sidenote: I actually just learned that I’m in the upper 10% a few weeks ago when I was initiated into a national honors society called Alpha Chi . My impressions of college “initiations” prior included something like spanking or drunken branding - but I only had...