Decidedly Obscure Human Complaints.

Got this new hair did last weekend from Princess Kennedy. So summer post-finals perfect:

2nd puberty, more boy androgens, acne. Seriously. When I first started hormone therapy, I couldn’t believe how fast the acne crept up in ways and places it never had before. First the bacne, then the tingling nerve tissue a week prior to clusters of swollen zits surfacing. Finally, I cracked and began using benzoyl peroxide for the first time in my life out of sheer acne-ridden desperation. The pro? It cleared up my acne - significantly. The cons? Have to pile on moisturizer like crazy, otherwise my skin gets all red and flaky. My skin has also become 80xs more sensitive to sunlight. After a year of the acne.org regiment, I’ve decided to take my light-sensitive clear skin for granted and ween my tender flesh off the benzoyl - and on to a new hippie regiment I hope will work. So my new regiment, per a friend’s suggestion and passed down via her face doctor mom: 1. Rinse face with gentle cleanser. Let air dry. I’ve been using Dr.Bronner’s gentle castile baby soap. 2. Apply wi...

Salt Lake City is a really happening place when it comes to the world of queer - more-so with each new day! Last night I attended a Sister Spit show at a venue called Mestizo Cafe . First, the venue is super neat. As one reviewer said about it, When I was in Spain I got to know a number of Gitanos (Gypsy’s) who were an energetic people, full of life and culture. Despite this, the Spaniards often called the Gitanos “Mestizo”, meaning that they were a mix of cultures and nationalities rather than “true” Spaniards. For the most part it didn’t ruin their spirits. In this same open attitude and one of acceptance, Utah artist Ruby Chacon along with her husband, Terry Hurst have opened Mestizo Coffee House, embracing the diversity and yes, the mixing of cultures that exists in the Salt Lake Valley and in particular, the West side. Not only is it a hub of activism; it's also a community space - one that oozes diversity and acceptance. The last time I went to an event at Mestizo was...

I feel like I'm living in a warped Back to the Future bubble reminiscent of Marty McFly and Doc Brown. Here I am living in a social reality where I'm generally read/treated as a young cisgender male in his early 20s. I'm taking Drivers Ed and getting my drivers license for the first.time.ever . I'm resuming college alongside people who are actually in their late teens, after originally dropping out of high school and then experiencing a four-year frozen academic record hiatus. I'm experiencing a slew of puberty-ridden foreign shenanigans that have me surprising myself and learning new things on a daily basis. And the hormone acne onslaught is a constant aesthetically pleasant reminder. I even have the less-plushy blue version of Marty McFly's ridiculous life vest. And aviators. And a semi-fluffy 80s-esque hair-do. And incredibly plush, cozy sneakers. BUT! I bicycle! I do not skate board! So, at least I have that going for me. It's an inte...

One of my greatest concerns with the aesthetic changes associated with hormone therapy? Ending up in male-only spaces, like locker rooms and public restrooms. Why? Because apparently individuals in these spaces have the potential to be downright weird, bizarre, and creepy. Just yesterday I spent some time studying at the downtown library. Eventually, I had to use the restroom. There were a few stalls leading back to a fourth, larger stall. Since the restroom only had one occupant (a guy sitting in the stall directly next to the larger stall), I darted to the larger stall. As I engaged in my business, my phone vibrated. I checked it, selected "ignore" with the intention to call them back - and then I noticed something unusual in my peripheral vision. I caught a glimpse of activity beneath the stall divider to my left, near the floor. It looked like the top of a head, upside down, darting up quickly. What!? I was stunned. And stuck, wishing that I could just stop ...

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 ...

Just a few months ago the idea of sticking a needle into my thigh every 2 weeks wasn't, in the slightest, an enticing one. I went from whimpering and  asking friends and family to do it for me  to becoming the no needle fearin' boy I am today! I just finished today's injection. I look forward to every other Thursday like it's a trans Christmas, when I get to inject again and experience my body and mind connect more and more every.single.day. It's wonderful. When preparing, I wipe the injection point on my thigh with a little alcohol wipe. I remember my first injection on December 11th when I wiped my hairless, soft thigh. Today? It's harder, and a twirl of wet hairs are left behind after wiping the area. Gross, I know. But great. I'm still on the same prescription that I started out on - 100mg of Testosterone Cypionate every 2 weeks, injection via a 25g syringe into any muscle. Right after injecting I looked in the mirror to enthusiastically examine m...

Prior to starting testosterone I could never look at myself unclothed, in a swimming outfit, in tank tops, or even in shorts. Not that I'd ever considered myself unattractive - just entirely disconnected. I felt soft. Hairless. Prepubescent. Seeing as I'm attracted to soft and hairless feminine individuals, I could look at myself and, on some level, could appreciate it, even though it wasn't me . And, admittedly, the longer the testosterone reshapes my appearance, the less attractive I become to myself. There's a little bit of irony in that. The less attractive I become to myself - the more acne-ridden, square-headed, pot-bellied, muscular, and hairy - the more confident I become. Connected . Relieved. Hopeful. The me I'd known since the world of whoa-puberty-you're-going-the-wrong-way! kicked in NEVER wanted to wear shorts, for example. Yet, now that there's hair growing all over the place below my knee AND above my knee, I can't resist wearing t...

May 10th marked 151 Days since I began my transition with Testosterone Cypionate. I'm on the same dosage that I began with - 100mg every 2 weeks . It's been way too frickin' long since I've had the opportunity to take unflattering brightly lit photos of myself. Since I moved, I have one little dim bulb in my bathroom (this will be remedied at some point in the near future), so I wasn't quite sure where to take photos that wouldn't necessitate a big blast of obnoxious flash action. So I borrowed Gina's bathroom, which worked well enough! 'ish. It's something. Moving right along... 151 Days on Testosterone Cypionate, 100mg every 2 weeks:

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'...

My massage last Friday was so.very.blissful . It went on for two whole hours . Afterward I was dehydrated to all hell and felt like I was on a muscle relaxed little floaty cloud. My gives-the-best-massages friend gave me a glass of water, then I floated off yonder to a local queer club where "femme women dress up as butch and compete". Femme? What? Where? I'm in. Anyhoo, the most recent post over at The Vegan Lunch Box was a little hope-inducing in regards to my puberty-ridden acne and backne development. The author's little son, Schmoo, has finally hit his preteens, which led her to blog the following: I've dealt with acne my entire adult life (they all told me I'd grow out of it, the liars). And although acne has been linked to milk and dairy products in several studies , going vegan did not clear up my skin at all. Of course, although it didn't contain dairy, my early vegan diet did include daily servings of things like soda, chips, candy, and ...

Here is another awkward viddy documentation of my voice change. There's a bit o' difference! In other news, yesterday was my brother's birthday. Aww, a little Valentine baby ! It was oodles of aging fun. Most of it was spent with my mom, dad, brother, and his girlfriend. Speaking of family and spending time together, I have numerous traumatizing memories of scratching my dad's pimply back. Zits popping, pus and blood under my fingernails. My brother also developed backne and my mom would pop his back pimples and put medicine on them. Me, on the other hand - I've never had a back pimple . Yet, last night, there I was, head in my mom's lap while she popped my backne. Gah, seriously. The shame. I really shouldn't share this kind of flattering information. I'm becoming more of an irresistible Casanova every day. Ahem, moving on, later in the evening we went to see a picture show that lacked a single uplifting moment - ' Revolutionary Road '...

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 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...

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 ...

Now that I have this spiffy camera I have the ability to take a series of incredibly unflattering pictures of my transition. Despite the reality that this won't, in the slightest, ever aid in my getting a date, it will at least be interesting to actually have these changes documented, in the most brutally honest lighting possible. I'll post photos every 2 weeks, after every injection. Keep in mind, I'm not a photo snapping sort of person, so this is extremely unnatural for me. These are also some of the most scandalous photos of me in existence. Note: Since these are all only 2 weeks into taking T, there aren't any significant changes I've noticed aside from body odor, sweating more, feeling like I'm starving to death all of the time, increased sex drive, acne development, having much greasier hair, and a few facial whiskers trying to pop up here and there. 2 Weeks on Testosterone Cypionate, 100mg every 2 weeks Stomach (hair growth + fat redistribution)...