When I was on campus sometime in March, there was a sex ed presentation for Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender women. I went, and it was wonderful. The presenter had come from the Mautner project for women's health. As part of her presentation, she used a puppet in the form of a Vulva. I had lots of questions, because it had been a while since I had seen one up close. Yes, I was the only girl in the room who did not have one; it felt so weird knowing this. Wow, it was so pretty, and down there, I had this...thing sticking out. The educator recommended that I stay afterward since my questions were very specific. She continued to tell us about pap smears, duck lips, and the importance of trimming fingernails before sex. Wow! I learned so much! She also recommended that I get a puppet like hers. She showed me how hers had a diagram that came with it. We looked at her other pictures and talked about what parts I would have and which I probably wouldn't. Hmmm, very interesting. Wow! This is what I was going to get between my legs? It's so exciting!



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After all the drama that happened at Easter, I expected to finish my final paper and and graduate on May 9th. Unfortunately, I was too busy crying the week before Easter to do any work on it, and in the weeks afterward, I made progress but was much slower. However, I continued to work with the writing counselor in the Academic Resource Center. I had been referred there by the Disability Support Office. The writing counselor was really nice and had been supportive all semester as I had panic attacks while my body adjusted to the anti-anxiety medication. My professors had sent me an email at some point in the semester to remind me that on May 6 my grade would default to a C minus. So, I shot for that date.

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I have been so excited about my new vagina! Today, I contacted a psychiatrist in Friendship Heights about writing an SRS letter for me, and he agreed. I will just have to take a thorough test and meet with him twice. He needed the information about the surgeon. So I emailed my friend Jamie who is in Thailand with someone else who is getting hers now, and Jamie sent me the website. And then I got some bad news: the price has gone up!
Well, I knew it would be close, but with the price $1000 more than I expected, I don't have quite enough any more. I have just enough for the surgery, but not enough for airfare, food, and lodging while I am there. However, I think I have an idea. I'm going to try to get a temp job when I graduate, and I will also try to raise money through my crafty skills. I'm a talented girl! I know I can make my skills work for me too. First, I thought about making art objects like my large painted, bejeweled origami dinosaurs, but they are not much in demand. What may be more interesting is the straw weaving I do. I can make hand woven purses with beautiful designs, and even though the woven part isn't that sturdy, I can somehow attach a layer of cloth inside as lining. That's how the handwoven purse I have now was made. I've already made a couple of these bags in the last few years. I may even be able to weave beads in, if I can work out how. I'm sure that many women would love an original handmade bag made by a local artist, especially if it helps me get my vagina.

But still, knowing that I don't have quite enough money isn't a total disaster. At least I'm close, and it won't be that hard to make up the difference. This can still happen in the near future!

Yes, I said it! I can't stop obsessing about vaginas lately; for the last few months, it's been obsession about my growing boobies (OMG they are getting bigger YAY!).

I went to the Vagina Monologues on campus last Thursday and I cried. It was so amazing just to hear so many women talking about their vaginas. Just to be able to say the word! And then to sit there surrounded by so many other women....and then know that I was probably the only woman in the audience who didn't have one.

However, something amazing has happened in the last week and I think my life, or at least 2009, will be changed forever. On the way out the door to go to the Monologues, I stopped at the mailbox and found a letter from TSP, my government retirement fund from my old job. The letter said I had X amount of money. The information sunk in, and a few seconds later, this thought appeared: That's just a little bit more than the cost of surgery in Thailand!!!!!

I checked today and found that if I withdraw it, I only have to pay 20% in taxes, much less than the 30% or 40% I feared. I will still have just enough for surgery! Of course, it would help if I had a little more, because I'll need to eat Thai food for a month while I recover, and Pad Thai Jae isn't cheap! Ummmm, Penang Tofu, that sounds good too! Okay, I'll have some spring rolls and Pad Thai Jae with my Vagina, here, I'll pay in cash...

OMG! A vagina! My brand new Vagina! Beautiful flower vagina garden fruity vagina garden lovely flower vagina garden. If my vagina wore clothes, what would it wear? If my Vagina could talk, what would it say? My Vagina is going to cost $11,000.
Ooh, it will be so wonderful, so soft and smooth, and everything thing will be so free down there, no more worrying about those Things anymore, everything will be safe and warm inside, and they won't freeze till they bleed like they did during inauguration week waiting to see Obama. Yes, I finally got my period that day, and Obama brought it on! All I need now is the vagina to go with it....LOL. Vagina!

But when???? I have to finish my paper ASAP and graduate and get letters from three people including my therapist and a psychiatrist and my hormone doctor, and what about the name change? So much to do!!!

If there is any doubt that black transgender women's lives are not worth much inside the black community, look at this:

http://www.bilerico.com/2008/12/two_more_lgbt_people_murdered_in_indiana.php

I feel horrible that this has happened so many times in different cities in the past six months. I can remember right off hand a murder in upstate New York and a murder in Memphis in the last few months. The sad thing is, the mainstream media is not very concerned about this, probably because it is considered black on black crime and therefore expected. The pattern of black transgendered women being murdered so often should be disturbing to everyone. The reason this is happening is because of such virulent homophobia in the black community. Many people in the black community excuse their homophobia by saying, "I don't care what you do in private as long as I don't have to see it." This is black america's 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'. In black culture, although rampant sexuality in rap music videos is the norm, gay sexuality is still taboo. Transpeople are so misunderstood that they are considered simply extremely flamboyant gay people. While people can accept gangbangers and drug dealers in their families, simply being gay is seen as unspeakable. Being trans is therefore the most transgressive act imaginable, the worst crime anyone could commit, since murder is glorified in rap music. Transwomen's existence provokes such rage in many young black men around the country that many of them lash out; usually, these murders are not simple shootings, they are obliterations. This must stop. NOW.

So many transwomen are killed so regularly that we must be the group that is most targeted for hate crimes in this country. In a list of lgbt victims of hate crimes that I saw, almost all of the black victims were transwomen.

This is just too much. We have the right to exist. I wish they would stop killing us.

For a few years lately I have been trying to recall a 1970's show that I remembered watching. It had female superheroines, and included a grownup woman and child sidekick. I remember their having brightly colored costumes and a very groovy spaceship. I also remembered wishing I could be the sidekick! At first I thought maybe it was Mighty Isis, but it turns out that it was not. No, it was Electra Woman and Dyna Girl! It was so wonderful to see this on YouTube tonight, and to realize that I remembered watching this on Saturday Mornings when I was just 4 years old. Yes, at age four I already wanted to be a female sidekick. I tried to identify with Robin on Batman, but I just couldn't. No, I wanted to be DynaGirl!
Isn't it amazing that I identified with female TV characters that early on? That same year, my parents took me to see the Rescuers and we bought the record too, which I played on our record player all the time. I thought Penny the little orphan girl was so wonderful and brave, and I wanted to be her too. So I got orange construction paper to cut out her hair and pigtails, and ran around the house playing make believe (I was an only child and had very few friends, so I had to do that a lot). My dad caught me and was baffled. Then I told him, "Daddy, I'm being Penny from Rescuers!". No, my Marine Corps Officer Texan Vietnam Vet father was not pleased with his four year old. Sometime within the next year I heard my parents arguing in my bedroom about something, and before walking in there, I heard my dad say angrily,"Then just put a dress on him and be done with it, why don't you!!!!" I have no idea what they were arguing about. I do know that when I finally graduated from kindergarten two years later, they covered up the shoulders of my graduation picture with construction paper because they thought they were too puffy and looked like a dress. It was just stiff polyester, that's all. But this tells me they were already super paranoid of anyone seeing me doing anything too feminine. My dad's grandmother from Texas had already declared me a sissy, and she was spreading the rumor around the family. I met my dad's stepparents, the Lewises, only once when I was thirteen, but apparently years later my dad's first stepgrandmother, the Lewis one, told my aunt that she had wondered why my father never brought me around them very often or let me speak to them on the phone, and she suspected the reason..."Jo Carol, I think that child is gay! When I saw him when he was 13, I said, "John, he sure is feminine!" My aunt told me this in 2007 when I told her that she now had a niece instead of nephew. But no, I was not gay, I was just FABULOUS! I think I stepped out of the womb drama queening from the moment I drew breath.

Over the summer, I discovered my new favorite DVD series: Dark Angel. A very special friend (whom I really really miss,*sniffles*) introduced me to it, and we always used to have so much fun when we watched it together. I guess it was our favorite show. Often, we made dinner and dessert, or went to our favorite restaurant, or out shopping and then watched it afterward...okay, I'll stop talking about her because i'll just cry, LOL!
Well, while I've been sick, and she's been sick, I haven't heard from her and hadn't watched any episodes in a long time so I rented them on Netflix. I've almost finished the series now, and the second season has really hit me close to home.
This series is about the struggles of a group of genetically engineered people. They were designed to be super soldiers. Right before America was hit by an electronic pulse and completely crippled into a developing country level of existence, some of the child soldiers escaped and blended into society. The main character, Max, was one of this group. Later, she destroyed the whole facility of Manticore, the organization that designed her, and set free all the remaining child soldiers as well as other experiements, some of whom were more visibly crossed with animal DNA than she. Eventually, it was leaked in the second season that these "Transgenics" had escaped and were at large. The public was afraid that these transgenics were everywhere, hiding. When someone spotted one of the more animal appearing transgenics, the public went crazy, and hate filled bigots started hunting them down, screaming "Tranny tranny, come here, Tranny, so we can kill you!" Max and some of her friends can pass, but another of her transgenic brethren, Joshua, cannot. Joshua is beautiful and kind, and is a very sensitive artist. But Max warns him that he cannot go outside because he doesn't pass. Max sometimes had nightmares about being identified because she was in the company of those who did not pass. Joshua's romantic interest is eventually killed because she was with him. It was soon clear that a war was brewing against the transgenics.

Why does all of this hit so close to home? Transgenic sounds so much like transgender. And I'm a tranny, too. I appear to be one of the ones who pass, at least most of the time. A few months ago, I actively participated in the campaign to end discrimination against transfolk because bigots had gotten our protection law overturned. The conservative loonies had lied to people on the street and told them that men dressed as women were dangerous and hiding in women's restrooms. We finally won, and the judge reinstated our protections in Montgomery county. But many of my trans sisters are still killed all the time. When people kill us, they do so with extreme prejudice; they think we are an abomination, so disgusting that they want to beat us to a pulp. They killed one of my sisters in New York last year, and another one in Memphis. We are the most targeted hate group in the country, because when bigots who hate gay people want to kill a "fag", they go looking for us to kill.

Last week, I was on a bus in DC when a man began to flirt with me. I tried to ignore him, but he kept asking me questions about where I was going, my name, my number, etc. which I dodged. Eventually, he became angry and said I had a bad attitude while he was just being friendly. I told him that I simply don't give my number to men. Then he said it. "What do you mean, you don't give your number to men? You ARE A MAN! Yes, I know what you are! You think you're pretty don't you! Well, you're not! You're transgender, I know what you are, I've been around those before! That's A MAN!" Some people on the bus asked him, "If you think that's a man, why are you trying to get her (I chuckled when they said "her") number?" I don't think anyone believed him, so I played it off. But this frightened me. So many of these men, they hate us, they want us dead. I was so scared that someone could find out and bash me to a pulp.

And yet, I go out into the city every day, walking confidently, bold and beautiful. I hold my head up high, proudly, and turn men's heads. I'm a fierce tranny! There may be a war against us, the transpeople, just as our gay brothers and sisters are under attack, but every day we all go into battle by living our lives and loving those close to us. Bring it on! I'm here to stay!

This week I watched a movie called "The Truth About Jane". It was a coming out story about a young lesbian in high school who comes out during her freshman year. The film is really a story about her mother's struggle to come to terms with having a gay child, and Stockard Channing did a great job portraying a drama queen mother.
What does this have to do with my mom? The film made me think about what it must be like for her to have a transgender child and not accept the situation. By the end of the film, her mother finally shows up to a gay pride rally, bu won't stand with the PFlAG parents. I tried to get my mother to go to PFLAG, but she wouldn't go.

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This is the absolute funniest thing! Enjoy!!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03d3HtnwVuI

My mom and dad mostly mean well, apart from not letting me come home anymore. My mother genuinely loves me and cares for me, and she does her best to help. I really appreciate my mother, I honestly do. But unfortunately, she is having a hard time accepting my transition. She has not made one reference to my female status since May. I know she is trying to pretend this is not happening. The last time she sent me an actual non-monetary gift was last september for my birthday, when she sent me male clothing a month after I told her I was living full time as a woman. When I called and thanked her for the gift, but informed her that I did not wear that kind of clothing anymore because I'm female, she became very upset. She ended up by telling by finally telling my father and grandmother three days later, after which my father declared that he was not speaking to me anymore and that I could never come home again. My mother called me up to relay the message. That was a year and four months ago.

Well, my parents have sent me a package from home with Christmas presents. Inside, I found a container of fruit cake that my grandmother made, and hopefully at least a jar or two of her fig preserves. I love my grandmother's fig preserves! She planted that fig tree the day I was born. I hope that one day I get to see my grandmother again.

The other box inside the package is a wrapped Christmas gift. It is very nice wrapping paper. It is also one of those soft clothing boxes from a department store, and one end is slightly heavier than the other. Uh oh! Please tell me she didn't!
But regardless, I appreciate my mother, and I know she cares about me and she means well. She has not seen me since last august, and still refuses to believe that I really look female. She knows that I am on hormones, and I think she knows that I have begun to change physically, but she has no idea what I look like. I wish that she could understand that I am finally much happier, and have better chances for success now.

I bought a christmas tree a few weeks ago when my friend Alynna took me shopping. This is the first christmas tree that I have ever bought. It is very small, and I have trimmed it with tinsel and a few small ornaments. Underneath the tree are three gifts; one is the goodies from my grandmother, one is a gift for a very dear friend for whom I care a great deal, and the third is the gift from my parents. I'm not going to open either of my two gifts until I wake up in the morning. Regardless of what my mother has bought me, I love her. Even if she has bought me the same kind of clothing she did last time, and is trying to remind me of an identity I have left far behind and which I almost never have to deal with, I love her anyway.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1jzVJjk32E

I've done it!I made vegan deep fried oyster mushroom, and it looks and tastes a lot like Original recipe from kfc, or at least the way i remember it from 20 or more years ago. Last night, I made it with the same spices but dipped it in a beaten egg first before dipping in the flour, and it was just like extra crispy. Is that the difference? Is Extra Crispy dipped in egg batter while Original Recipe is not?

I tried an experiment last night. I really haven't worn a bra in months, even though I used to love to wear them; bras used to be essential for my femininity, because without them, I had no boobs at all. The bra I was wearing was several sizes too big and was essentially a cup form that filled out my clothes with nothing inside it. Some people told me that they had thought I had real boobs until I revealed that I was wearing a padded bra. Then they decided that I was wearing fake boobs. Not! I thought that they were not fake, because there was nothing under the padded bra except for my own skin. I knew that many small chested women wore padded bras; how was I any different? Then, over the summer, I started puberty, YAY! I still needed bras to have any appearance of breasts for a while, but by the end of summer, I didn't need a bra to have a breasts anymore. I've been so happy! Someone came along and said, oh, so they are real now? You used to wear fake boobs!

Last night I put on a bra again, and realized that I fill out the cup so much now that I can almost see the nipple through it. Okay, so it fits now! So? Then, I decided to try something new. I made it as tight as I could in the back and in the straps, and then put it back on. Even though I'm not sagging, they sat higher on my chest, and I guess they looked bigger. I put a top back on again, and was amazed. Wow! But it didn't look natural to me; it looked fake. I knew that those were my very own boobs in there, and I knew that the padding really wasn't adding anything; the straps were just lifting me. I've gotten so used to just being "natural", that it seems over the top. Is that fake?

I love experimenting with different kinds of foods. I love to make veggie versions of West African dishes like peanut sauce, cheb u jen (minus the fish, of course), leaf sauce, and others. Before I first attempted African cuisine ten years ago, I first dabbled with a couple of Chinese dishes: egg drop soup, fried rice, sweet and sour sauce. Then, I tried making French quiche, and eventually mastered my own version that had a French friend begging for my recipe: quiche lorraine aux epinards (bacon and spinach quiche). I have succeeded in making vegetarian versions of all of these dishes, and in the last few years, I have added vegetarian (but unfortunately not vegan) versions of my grandmother's favorite dishes. I can make authentic southern macaroni and cheese (although without real 'guh-mint' cheese, is it that authentic?), black eyed peas (add a garlic-parsely puree and they'll swear there's meat in there), cornbread dressing, collard greens, and now oyster mushroom gumbo and cajun dirty rice. Tonight, I have had a revelation: using my mother's fried chicken recipe, which is salt, pepper, and paprika mixed into the flour and one beaten egg, I can deep fry oyster mushrooms and they have a very similar texture to either chicken or chicken livers. So I just had some deep fried mushrooms with some cajun rice, and it totally felt as if I'd gone to Popeye's! I can probably fry them without dipping them in egg somehow, and then I'll have vegan soul food. It is so much fun being veg!

This is what I want to hear when Rick Warren gets up to speak. Somehow, I want someone to arrange this!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edaJP3Lp0Gg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpzrHCf6zIs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajPqHtsrQ8Q

I saw this series on campus friday, and it was just too much!

I was waiting for the shuttle to come to campus this afternoon, and while I waited, I chatted with two freshmen. The boy, who didn't sound very straight to me, was telling me and the other girl about how hard the red line had been today, and how he was thinking of going back to Indiana. I extolled the virtues of AU. Then, he told us how the staff people at the McDonald's had greeted him when he arrived. "They saw me standing at the counter and said,'What do you want, Whitey?"! "Welcome to Chocolate City," I told him. Yes, that is the proud Ephithet of DC. Then he said," I have met so many new kinds of people here. I have met my first gay person, and my first Jew, and I met my first Indian here." "You have just met your first tranny too!" I said gleefully, and then intentionally vanished into the crowd to get on the bus. That was just too much fun! I love shocking Midwestern ingenues!

Okay, I will admit one of my biggest guilty pleasures. I have a crush on Katy Perry! Yes, I know she's awful. That horrible song, I Kissed a girl, is utterly danceable, and it's so sexist and antifeminist that it makes me want to barf...and buy cherry chapstick. Ur So Gay is awful! But it's so catchy, especially that line "And you don't even like boys!" It is utterly homophobic, while meant simply to be emo-bashing. And then Hot'n Cold, I can't stop listening to that one either. She reminds me in that video of a queer Electro Queen, and the eighties teen movie motif in the video is somehow just queertastic. And it's totally hetero normative. Just what is it about her?

And then I saw this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CphTP8YKvys&feature=related

I don't know why, but just watching her in that cut off looking top, with her deep gravely voice, and her guitar, she just seems SO butch and sooo incredibly hot!
And this song is awful and hetero gender normative too! What in the world?!!!! Why is she still so hot and queer-ish anyway, no matter how straight she acts?

Okay, so it appears that Naughty Marietta is not lesbian porn. But it sure sounds like it! I'm sure there must be some subtext in Peppermint Patty and Marcy going to see this musical love story.