March 4th, 2013


Week 68 - Fancy Friday and my continuing inability to simply BE

Fella I bought my train ticket from asked if I was using my husband's card. I told him I had a boy name and he was all "It happens!" I get weirded out these days worryin' that the queer kids don't clock me. I don't WANT to be stealth! It's an odd fight to fight.

I bruise easily. One-a them side effects I've heard about thet I'm starting to notice more of. I get a lot of weird bruises I don't remember bumpin' into.

So I'm crunching at work this week, and thinking about the last time we had crunch and the headstate I was in. MUCH much worse. I even skipped lunch today, and emotionally I've gotten a little bit need-a-hug, but nothing overwhelming. I'm used to my blood sugar gettin' low being a signal that the walls were about to close in. And I HAVE had ups and downs... I jus' feel like I'm gettin' my feet on the ground. Starting to feel what the hell I'm doing with this new brain.

The "let's have babies" thing was a bit of a curveball, but MOSTLY I've got my act in order.

Dressin' up for "Fancy Friday" at work has been SUCH a positive experience. I kinda liked wearin' suits and whatnot back in the day, but I've drifted so far away from comfortable-in-boyspace that the concept of wearin' a suit kinda icks me out. I'm in fuckin' AWE of transchicks who rock th' butch angle. I've nurtured such a nagging antipathy towards boy-stuff that to intentionally put on guy-things, even if they're girl cut... it's impressive to me. And I mean, here I am, whining about "passing too well", when I'm not comfortable intentionally rockin' more butch stuff.

IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TASTE but seriously tho butch transchicks are hawt

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