I’m glad this week is at its close. I am a procrastinator, so I put off my taxes and some other stressful money stuff until the very last minute (yesterday) and spent all week avoiding them. My anxiety level has been through the roof. I have been spending all my free time outside the house in order to cope/not have to deal with shit.
Tuesday night I got drinks with C. We didn’t stay out long, but its always nice to spend time together that isn’t part of our massage/tattoo trade. I tried to make a concerted effort to not talk about transition or the breakup too much (he and my ex are friends from high school). All the same we ended up discussing how very, very much I need to get laid. He feels like that need never really goes away, but that you just become accustomed to it over time.
On Wednesday I went out with L and her buddy D. D seems to identify as butch and a stud. She’s also kiiiiinda chauvanist. Doesn’t really seem to get what trans is. She is a hot mess right now. She and her gf broke up less than two weeks ago, and last week she made out with her roommate, who is dating her other roommate. There is tension. There is drama. She’s been crashing on L’s sofa for the last week and driving a rental car so her ex won’t know where she’s staying. Damn.
So anyways, we all went out for drinks and pool. D is bro-y as fuck, L is her usual loud self. D kept sheing me and I still feel too awkward calling her, or anyone, on it. I mean, I still haven’t explicitly asked for the change. Any more, though, when I hear she or her it feels so gross and clearly doesn’t fit to the point that it seems intentional (even if it isn’t really).
I won every game of pool that night. Ate a burger the size of my head, and 15 min later remembered what a bad idea that is with a binder on. We discussed getting matching striped suit jackets and starting a queer acapella group that will randomly show up and bust out crooning at queer dance nights. I’ll get all the low parts once my voice comes in. 🙂 L regaled the two queer women in the bar with stories of foot fungus on massage clients (way to go buddy). We left for a karaoke bar once the queer bar we were at went dead.
Once there, L spotted the most attractive coupled woman in the room, pointed, and said she would dance with her by the end of the night. She has this thing about ‘stealing’ straight guys’ girlfriends, even if only for a minute. She may get them to dance, she may ask them to be Jasmine to her Aladdin while singing A Whole New World, or she could just straight up leave with them. You never know. What is certain, though, is that straight dudes fucking hate this. The guy on Wednesday night was no exception, although he tried to play it cool for a bit. By the time we left, though, he was ready to fight and yelling something to his girlfriend about a bulldyke (PS, L is not actually a bulldkye, he was just soooo straight that he didn’t know the difference). D and I attempted to hasten L’s departure and we managed to all leave before punches were thrown.
We went to her place for a bit. The ladies introduced me to tinder and we watched Harry Potter. I left around 3am, still wired. “Well shit, I forgot the grocery shopping today. Might as well.” WinCo is open 24 hrs so I went and got groceries at 3:30am, in bed by 5am Thursday morning. I haven’t stayed out like that since my teens. The whole evening was ridiculous but also, I think, needed.
A few more mellow drinks the next night. I roasted a chicken, sliced it up, and brought it to the bar with me at the request of my friends. Went home early, got to bed early, and it was divine.
Yesterday, after I picked up my son (who has fucking strep throat) we went out to my parent’s place so I could use their tax software. Got the taxes done, got another huge bill sorted, ordered new checks while I was at it. All the stressful shit all at once. I was a mess and felt like puking nearly the whole time. At one point, thinking I had made a mistake on my federal returns, I hit my max. I’ve always been quick to tear up when I am angry or frustrated. But yesterday I realized that there were no tears coming. I was able to calmly tell my mom I was taking a break, and snuck a cigarette break while driving a couple miles away to one of my other chores for the day. I got that done, also without vomiting or crying.
By the end of last night, though, my adulting list for the week was nearly empty. I have the day off from work today since the kiddo is sick. He’s feeling alright, but still possibly contagious, so we may just go fishing or something for the day since the weather is great.
Oh yeah, on the T front… my voice is still dropping pretty quickly. For three days my chinhas felt like there are glass slivers embedded in it, which I assume means that hairs are ready to start growing there. The acne is mellowing a bit, thank god. My calf hair is reproducing exponentially and the hair in my nethers is starting to creep closer to my legs. I was sir-ed at a rural grocery store last week, only to have the person apologize on closer inspection. It was like this great, triumphant moment for just a sec, and just as quickly it was dashed. Ugh. I’m ready to stop feeling so in-between. Although, as C points out, you’re just trading that in for invisibility.
Ah well… I’m off to make Dutch babies with the kiddo. All the best to you each this week.
TrannyRedneck 