Here is a more well-rounded picture of my current reality!

I'm a little low on funds, but I'm not stressing about it. I'm trying not to spend money right now, to make sure I can pay my bills in August, since I don't get a paycheck until 8/31. But honestly, I don't need to worry that much. I planned so well for my road trip that I not only stayed considerably under budget, but actually saved money compared to how much I would have spent had I stayed home. I also have several massage clients scheduled already, a random bookkeeping gig, and plenty of earplug testing to keep food in my fridge and gas in my car. I'm weighing right now whether I can afford new clothes before I start work or whether I'm going to wait till I start getting paid. I'm back with my lymphatic drainage treatments, which are $65 a week, and that's a much higher priority than clothes.

Also, I need new shoes, and they're 99% likely going to be new Crocs, unless I become aware of some compelling reason to do otherwise. The question is, what color??! My current pair is light blue. I have worn them out so bad that I can't safely walk in the rain anymore because the soles are flat! I've worn them just about every day of my life for 5 years. For $29.99 new shoes that's pretty fucking kick-ass.

My massage therapist who does my LD treatments did some kickass energywork on me on Monday, pulled a lot of grief out of me, balanced me out really good. She also did some immensely helpful Reiki on my foot, which I am finding responds really well to energywork, and really poorly to any manipulative technique.

I'm so fucking excited about my AmeriCorps job. I start in one month. I want to start now. NOW NOW NOW NOW NOWNOWNOW. I am learning about patience. I know I need this time to do some important spiritual grounding work to sustain me during this year. So even though it is frustrating to have to wait, I get why it's important. Now if I can just be faithful to this and actually do the work, it will be really good.

Even though there's a lot of emotional pain associated with my playing the guitar, the fact that I can physically play it is mindblowing. I played my guitar for half an hour today and I can still move my hands now. If I had done this 14 months ago, I would not have been able to move my left hand for days. It's still amazing to me that I can use my hands.

Some of my gender issues directly related to my body and/or sexuality are coming up in a big way right now; the ones I've either repressed since childhood or started repressing during transition so I could deal with actually transitioning. I need to process some of this, but I don't know how.

I'm falling in love with VNV Nation again.

I would like to manifest a comfy couch. Currently I have no couch at all.

I miss my FLGBTQC friends so much. It hurts, but it's kind of a good hurt. One Friend reminded us after Bonnie's death that part of the blessing of having a community like ours is that there are so many more people in one's life that will eventually die, and the same is true for having so many people to miss when they're not around. Having people that I love enough to miss this much is beautiful.

I guess the thing that feels off is that I don't have anybody in Indiana that I miss that much when I'm away for as long as I was. I missed stuff like choir and my bed and being able to eat a great lunch at a restaurant for under $8, but there are no people here whose physical presence in my life fuels my vitality the way my Quakers do.

I'm going to start attending Meeting in Bloomington and see if that helps.

I'm trying the guitar thing again.
It still hurts to play, but not disablingly.

The problem now is that I can't sing and play anymore. The wrong sounds come out. I spent two years adjusting to my new voice, I'm mostly at peace with it...but then I bust out the guitar and it's all fucked up. It's all wrong. It feels like I'm trying to do something that I'm not supposed to do anymore.

I thought I would have to actually relearn to play the guitar, that once I got comfortable with where to put my hands, my voice would follow. It's not like that at all. The guitar has come back like it was never gone, like we hadn't lost years together. My hands know just what to do. I have always been able to play the guitar.

But my voice can't do it. I try and try and try. It doesn't fit. I can't make it fit. The voice that went with the guitar is dead.

I feel like I got robbed. Maybe if I had been able to play the guitar while my voice was changing this wouldn't have happened. But the guitar didn't get to transition with me. I couldn't use my arms. I couldn't play. I couldn't.

I don't know how to explain what this is like to you. I'm sorry. I need to, but I don't know how. There are no metaphors I can think of. It's like...something I need is gone...but it doesn't feel wrong that it's gone. It feels horrible, but not wrong. It feels like I'm just not supposed to do this thing that I can't imagine not being supposed to do because I've always been supposed to do it so how is this even possible?

apollotiger: If I could make you a prostate of your own and give it to you I would
peaceofpie: dude
peaceofpie: that would be the best birthday present ever :D

Wow, I'm bored.

Here is another opportunity to ask me strange, random, existential, and/or thought-provoking questions. Go for it! I shall entertain myself by answering them.

If anyone is interested in a visit from your friendly purple-headed travelling massage therapist, let me know! I will happily travel long or short distances. Prices are negotiable and barter may be acceptable.

The State of Indiana thinks that I should legally change my name.

I think they should go fuck themselves, but I'm trying to come up with a more rational way to deal with this.

I don't know why, but I just don't feel like it's time for me to legally change my name. I'm not committed enough to this name that I want to throw all that time and money into it, and I feel like I shouldn't have to do that to get a massage license.

The response I got was "Yes, this will pose a problem as the State of Indiana requires that you submit proof of a legal name change if your name appears different on any of your documents." Like, seriously, that's all it said. Yes, this will pose a problem? GREAT, what are we going to DO about the problem? How is it even remotely useful to tell me "yes this will pose a problem"?

Okay, well...now I get to figure out what to do about this problem.

Today I have been informed that I should find myself a friend with benefits. Or have someone find one for me.

Given that I haven't even kissed another person since several genders ago, and pretty much hit the reset button on my sex life when I started T, don't even have the remotest idea how to find a friend with benefits or even what I'd do with one if I had one...this could be an interesting mission.

Hmmm.

I mean...I totally have at least a couple friends I would be totally into doing that with, but I feel like it would be so awkward to even bring it up that it's not worth risking the friendship, and it's not like I see them often enough to make risking the friendship worth it? I dunno. I don't understand how this works.

The best was when I announced this in a group meeting tonight, and got the response "You JUST figured that out? I've been reading your LJ for two months and even I already knew that," and everyone else in the room who reads my LJ nodded. It was kinda surreal.

So, my penis is the internet and my pelvic area is an electromagnetic avatar of the bermuda triangle??!

No wonder I never get laid!

So the power cord I just bought like six weeks ago? To replace the power cord that caught fire in my bed? JUST CAUGHT FIRE. IN MY BED.

WHAT THE FUCK??

I'm going to blow way too much money on a new one tomorrow. Please, God, don't let this become a regular event? I know we like to have some excitement from time to time but FLAMING WIRES IN MY BED IS THE WRONG FUCKING KIND OF EXCITEMENT.

It is so good to be home.

It was good to be gone, and it is good to be home. It is good to have a home to go home to. So good, so good, so good.

I miss my f/Friends so much.

But, I am home.

Nine hours in the car by myself was exactly what I needed today. Nine hours to scream and cry and sing and pray and eat handfuls of chocolate, to remember all the adventures I have had this past month and also all the things I am excited to come home for. Nine hours to think about Bonnie, about all the love that she is and was and will be, about all the ways her love is going to live on, about all the questions I wish I could ask her, about where I might have put the notebook where I sketched a couple dozen Bonnie Tinker stick figure doodles during the workshop I took with her at Gathering last summer and whether I'll be able to find them or if I'm going to have to draw them all over. Nine hours to remember all the silly little things that aren't so little now. Nine hours to think about all the stuff she wanted me to do that I haven't done yet, to make sure I don't forget it and that I actually do it. Especially the stuff I didn't really think I'd have the balls to actually do.

I wish I'd exercised a little more forethought in leaving some food in the freezer that I could heat up to eat when I got home, but I'll remedy that with a trip to the store tomorrow. A trip to one of my beloved local food stores that I know like the back of my hand, because they are HOME and I ALWAYS get my food there so I know EXACTLY where to find the things I want.

I'm heading home today.

I don't feel like I'm ready to go home. It's not going back home, it's going forward-home, and I'm not ready to go there yet. But all I really feel ready for is going back to Thursday morning and hugging Bonnie and not letting go. And all I can do right now is hug the people here as hard as I can, knowing I can't take them home with me, and that even if I could, they wouldn't go. These people have actual families. Children, partners, pets, communities to go home to. What do I have? I have a teddy bear. And he's right here with me.

But this week people did the things for me that I need in real life. For one week and one weekend a year, I get to have this. When I needed a hug I got a hug. When I needed to massage people, they started lining up. When I was going loony from the crap food, someone took me out for dinner. When I left the grieving circle for Bonnie to go to the bathroom and took a long time coming back, someone went looking for me, and honestly I think the reason I don't have emotions in real life anymore is because what good is it having emotions if nobody really gives a shit anyway? So I post them on the internet and people who aren't near me care because that's all I've got.

I don't actually know for sure where I'm going to end up today, but it may well be my bed in Indianapolis. This whole trip is I-don't-knows. Maybe 8 hours in the car with myself will give me the space I need to scream it out before I get there.

Bonnie Tinker, a close friend and vital member of my support committee, was hit by a truck while riding her bike at the FGC Gathering yesterday afternoon. She was killed instantly.

She was one of the most amazing, revolutionary human beings to ever set foot on the Earth. Earlier this week I handed her a birthday card I had been carrying around for weeks, since her 61st birthday on May 26, telling her how grateful I was to exist on the same planet as she did. She's one of those people I thank God every day for.

We had a Meeting for Grieving last night, but it just doesn't feel like enough. I don't know if there could ever be enough.

I had just seen Bonnie yesterday morning. We collectively threw a tantrum about the lack of consideration for vegans at the Gathering, and then I said to her: "Bonnie Tinker, you are one of my favorite human beings on earth, you know that, right? I love you." I had no idea it would be the last thing I ever said to her, but I say it to her just about every time I talk to her, because she regularly blows my mind with what a fucking rock star she is.

I'm back and forth between shock and shaking right now. Bonnie is a deeply beloved member of the FLGBTQC community and everyone is hurting so much right now and I'm trying to not take in more pain than I can hold, but it's absolutely impossible, you know? But Bonnie was the one who showed me how important it was to do impossible things anyway.

I will write more about her when I can. Right now I just ask for your prayers for all of us who love her, and especially for her partner and their children and grandchildren.

I don't think I'll be going to GenCon because I won't even be back from Santa Fe until the 14th, but on the off-chance I have an urgent need to blow lots of money I don't have before I even get my first paycheck...can someone tell me what the deal is with the "you have to provide your legal name" policy? I've heard about this being an issue before but I don't know about how it's been resolved for trans people whose legal name should NOT appear on their badge.

If they're going to tell me I have to have my legal name on my badge, I'm definitely NOT going, and I highly encourage you to not go either, OR, go and let them know how fucked up that is.

I found out about Michael Jackson's death while standing in the dinner line at Twin Oaks. Someone heard about it on the radio and came flying into the dinner line to let everyone know. Twin Oaks (obviously) has internet, but many don't use it.

Once he convinced us that he wasn't kidding, the collective immediate reaction was: MEMORIAL DANCE PARTY!

I am hopeful that this will occur before I leave.

In the middle of the night I got up, just like I do every night at home, but instead of checking all my emails and shit, I went outside to check the freaking sky, and the sky was full of stars. FULL of stars. I've never seen so many stars before. Not even in the woods in Canada. I reckon my eyes weren't open wide enough then...but still. STILL. STARS.

This morning I got up in time to help Caroline supervise an unhappy 3-year-old who decided English wasn't his preferred language today. He spent the morning communicating, mostly with himself, in what we could only call a tonal language complete with clicking. It was clearly not just wordless whining. This kid clearly knew exactly what he was talking about, and had no interest in saying it in a language the adults could understand.

We went on an adventure to find cleavers, a weed we heard was good for making a lymph-cleansing tincture. We never did find any cleavers, but we did find mulberries and raspberries which were a delightful snack, and managed to evade being attacked by any geese (although, honestly, I was kind of disappointed about that, because it would have made a much better story to say that I'd been attacked by a goose here).

Caroline took me on a tour of the herb garden. I am in love. I am in love. I am in love. I want an herb garden. I want a freaking herb FOREST. I want to live in it all day long.

After dinner I found myself hanging out on the back porch of the house I'm staying in, surrounded by half-drunk hippies discussing permaculture in Kansas in between spontaneous Steve Miller Band vs. The Eagles debates. Also, STARS STARS STARS STARS STARS.

Far more Iranian protestors died this week than American celebrities.

Far more sweet elderly grandparents who lived long, full lives passed out of this world today, because people come and go all the time, that's what life is, coming and going, living and dying, it's all just how things work, you know?

It's the stars in the SKY that are singing to me today. STARS STARS STARS. REAL STARS.

After much discernment, the final stop before the Quaker gathering will be Twin Oaks.

I've been wanting to visit there for a million zillion years, and I've been wanting to visit orneryhipster for similarly a million zillion years, and she now lives there. So, there is where I shall go!

Also, there is too much cat litter in Asheville, NC. But that's okay, because...TWIN OAKS!!

We went to the beach today. BEACH!!!
I started collecting little bits of shell and rock and seaweed to make beach art with, but I thought we'd go back to the beach after lunch and we didn't, so I didn't get to actually turn my big pile of stuff into anything but a big pile of stuff. But I still had fun collecting it. We went to a pizzeria that made vegan pizza, and we went on a toy store mission to find Fluxx 4.0, which is now in my possession and is crazy fun.

Then we came home and re-purpled my hair. YAY!

Tomorrow we'll have to de-purple the bathroom. I wish my hair would just GROW IN PURPLE. It would be so much easier. Or that I could give myself purple hair shots, like I give myself testosterone shots? That would be fantastic.

Also, Rock Band happened, and I can totally play the guitar thing. Well, not totally. But better than I could a year ago, when I...totally couldn't at all.

newport news, virginia
8:30pm, outside ellie_l's house


(i couldn't photoshop this if i TRIED. this is a real actual photo.)

( more rainbow )

:D

We went to hear david_feuer sing with the Lesbian & Gay Chorus of Washington this afternoon. Nathanael made gluten-free pasta with kale and chickpeas and sesame seeds and sesame oil and lots of garlic. Then we rode the Metro back to his mom's place, where I finished burning him a stack of Sister Hazel CDs and then we grabbed up the rest of my stuff and headed back to Clay's, where I'll spend the night tonight. Tonight has, additionally, involved several exhilarating rounds of Fluxx 4.0, tapioca pudding, and the Barcelona Sex Project.

Tomorrow I head for ellie_l's. BEACH BEACH BEACH BEACH BEAAAAACCCHHHHH.

:D

DC has an odd vibe to it. I'm trying to put my finger on exactly what the odd vibe is, compared to other cities. Something about it doesn't really feel like it's a real place. I mean, obviously it's a real place. I'm really here. I can really see buildings and people and statues and the river. I really just went to Sticky Fingers Bakery and had a bagel sandwich and a chocolate chip cookie and some bland cocoa. I've really been on the real subway and listened to real people in baseball caps talking about zombies.

But do people really love this city? Maybe some people do. But I feel like most people don't live here because they love it. They live here because they ended up here. They live here because, well, why not? They live here because of a job, or because they lived in (or still actually really do live in) one of the neighboring states and this is the city to do stuff in around here. They live here temporarily for school or for work. Or they totally don't live here at all, and they're just here as tourists.

I'm not really sure what people do around here! People who live here go away when they have the opportunity. People who come here on vacation want to see museums and statues and monuments and buildings. I'm honestly not that into museums and statues and monuments and buildings. If someone tells me, "Man, I really love this statue..." and tells me a story about it, or if someone's like, "Ooh, you'd be totally into this museum which has this exhibit about..." and they're excited about it, then I'm into it. But just going to look at stuff because it's there? Not really something I'd do on my own. It's not that I dislike museums. There just has to be more than just "look, a museum!" to hold my attention. "Let's go to this museum together" is fun because someone's there to have a conversation with me, so I'm not just mindlessly wandering around thinking about objects behind glass.

So, apparently the two things to do here are "go look at museums" and "go out to eat". Well, I'm simultaneously thrilled and disappointed to note that I have yet to find any food in Washington, DC that is more exciting than the food in Indianapolis. Believe it or not, we've got GREAT food back home! We've got a kick-ass Ethiopian place on the west side of town, and we have HANDS DOWN the best Indian restaurant on this side of the Atlantic. (I can't speak for Indian restaurants in India. I've never been to India.)

I need to decide if I'm going to stay here tomorrow and go exploring on my own, or if I'm going to head onward so I can squeeze in a few more stops before I need to be in Blacksburg, VA on Saturday for the Quaker gathering. I have at least 4 more places I want to go, and I really won't know whether I want to save some for after the Gathering until I have a better sense of where my energy is during the Gathering.

I'm tempted to be like, "C'mon, God...tell me what to do next!"...but sometimes God has funny ways of telling me what to do next, and I'm not particularly interested in another car accident. Especially if it leaves me stuck here in DC.

I think we can safely say that this here is the weirdest vacation I have ever been on.

It really does feel like a vacation, though. It really does. I mean, I guess I don't really know what a vacation feels like...but it definitely feels like "I have removed myself from my daily life and am off having adventures before I return to it". Even, at the same time, as it feels like I'm kinda on a quest. I'm not sure what I'm on a quest for, but I'll keep on enjoying the adventures nonetheless. I'm certainly learning a lot about myself this trip.

Please suggest awesome things for me to do while in Washington, DC.

The adventures continue!

At some point I'll catch up with myself and write more about the Trans-Health Conference. I hope, I hope, I hope I will. I didn't get any photos there. I was too busy conferencing.

As we all now know my little detour to New Jersey ended up a very big detour due to the car accident, but it was a very good big detour, albeit nerve-wracking. I got to spend a few extra days with Carly, which was wonderful. We took the train back into Philly, where I got an appointment at Philadelphia Community Acupuncture. It's a really neat system they've got set up there, providing acupuncture treatments on a sliding scale from $15-35. The way they do it is by having lots of people receive their treatments at once from the same practitioner. The acupuncturist does a brief intake in a private room with you, and then you get to choose a chair in the community room (some armchairs, some recliney-nap chairs), and the acupuncturist inserts your needles and then leaves you there until you make eye contact with them to indicate that you're ready to go (they tell you "usually after about 45 minutes, but anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours works great"). I have never had acupuncture before, because the idea of having tiny needles inserted under my skin to stimulate my chi in a way I already know has dramatically intense effects when stimulated on the opposite side of my flesh kinda freaked me out a bit. So it was good to learn that it really doesn't seem to do anything wacky to me, and that having little needles in me isn't such a big deal. However, it was honestly kind of disappointing. Not only did it not have dramatically intense effects on my chi, it really didn't have much of any effect at all. I'm not sure if I just don't respond to acupuncture, or if it was because the acupuncturist really wasn't present during the session the way one would be at a private session. But I would absolutely, definitely try it again. I know acupuncture doesn't always have much of an effect if you only go once, and it may just not be the right option for me, but I highly highly highly encourage others to try it.

We got to visit with our friend Jane, whom I haven't seen since I left Pendle Hill 3 years ago. It was the day before her birthday, so we took her out for lunch at a Laotian restaurant in West Philly, which was thoroughly delicious.

I taught my first Reiki I student...on the Blue Line train! That was pretty exciting. It also helped me to clarify, or at least start to get some clarity, about my role as a teacher of Reiki and what sorts of things I'll want to incorporate when I teach more formal classes. I feel like one of my gifts as a Reiki Master is that I can support healers based on what they need and where they are, without having an investment in a particular structure or set of rules for what I think they should know or do. So, if someone needs several weeks or months of formal instruction, I could provide that. If someone just needs the invitation to figure it out for themselves, I can provide that, too. I feel like this is going to lead to a lot of neat adventures, and I'm excited to be actively doing that.

On Thursday, I finally got the car back. The whole thing was a big nightmare pain in the ass, but considering how much worse it could have been, I'm frankly more relieved than anything else. I'm really glad I got to spend the extra time with Carly, and I learned a lot about the level of spiritual strength I've reached in order to have handled the situation as calmly and optimistically as I have. I just wish I didn't have to have so many panic attacks for those things to happen. All the freak-outness seems to have manifested between my eyebrows and my collarbone, which is not where I usually hold fear. But I guess it's good that I haven't stuck it in my arms again.

I went back to Pendle Hill Thursday night, which was wonderful as always. Shane Claiborne was speaking that night, which was very exciting, and I got to see a bunch of people I didn't get to see on Sunday. The kinds of people who see me across the room, drop whatever they're doing, and RUN over to give me those gooooood long hugs, the I really mean it hugs, the this hug is going to last several minutes so we can better know what it would be like to never let go hugs. Many of these are people who have not seen me since before the surgery, even people who haven't seen me since before the hormones. Some are people who have witnessed every stage of my transition and loved me through every minute of it.

I feel so fucking alive at Pendle Hill. It was so, so, so good to go there and know that it will always be there, that it really didn't go away, that it really isn't going to go away. It was so weird, to walk around the grounds, to sit in the barn, to be in places that have existed only in my dreams for several years now, and actually physically be there and be able to smell and touch everything.

Now I'm in Washington, DC. I spent Friday night at Clay's place in Maryland, where my car will hang out while I'm here, and then Saturday morning Nathanael and his mom came to get me and Johann and some of my stuff so I can stay with them for a couple nights.

I really couldn't sleep at all last night, though. I don't know what's up. I thought maybe it was too warm, so I turned up the AC. I readjusted the pillows. I put my head on the opposite side of the bed. I drank more water. I got up to pee. I drank MORE water. I got up to pee MORE. I had a panic attack. I got on the computer for a bit to try to redirect my mind for a while. I stretched. I curled up. I stretched different parts. I fell asleep for a little bit, woke up again, lay there for a while, then started having rapid-fire panic attacks. Fuckitty fuck fuck fuck. Finally, I took a Tramadol. It helped. I got a couple more hours of sleep. Then people were up and about, and now I'm awake trying to decide if I want to try to sleep any more. I kind of do, but I don't know how effective it will be. I'm not horrifically tired just now, but I may not make it through the day. Booooo.

We wandered around Dupont Circle last night, checked out the gay bookstore, and had dinner at Thaiphoon, after much discernment. Today, plans include david_feuer's chorus concert, and hopefully a trip to the vegan bakery. I need to figure out how long I'm staying here, which unfortunately won't be much longer if I can't sleep here, and whether I'm going to North Carolina or Virginia next week or if I'm going to try to do both.

I found this poem on the wall of the bedroom I'm sleeping in tonight:



All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man in the street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky.
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone.
Hunger allows no cchoice
To the citizen or the police.
WE MUST LOVE ONE ANOTHER OR DIE.

Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies.
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the just
Exchange these messages
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
SHOW AN AFFIRMING FLAME

-W. H. Auden

I am at Pendle Hill right now.

It was exactly three years ago that I first came here, and it's been two and a half years now since I've been back. In those two and a half years I have dreamed that I was here so many times that walking around here feel completely surreal. I have probably spent as much time dreaming about this place than I have spent physically here, by now, given that I dreamt about being here while I was here, too. This place is part of everything that is important to me. Everything I do is rooted here. It's a little terrifying, in a beautiful sort of way, how in just two months I restarted my entire life from zero and one and didn't even realize I was doing it.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss this place. Except...today. Because I'm here. And that's intense, that this is the first day in two and a half years that I haven't missed Pendle Hill.

Many of the faces are different, but it doesn't matter. It's all God here. It's all good here.

I know I'll be back some day. I've been telling myself that in the abstract for two and a half years now, but now that I am actually here, and I can see and touch and smell and taste and feel that this place is still here and it didn't go away when I left, and it's not GOING to go away...I believe it. It will be here still when I need it. I don't know when that will be, but...I know.

The conference is over. I'm days behind on keeping up with myself. I had left Ahavia's Thursday night. The cat litter was too much for my system. My eyes were all gooked up and my face hurt and it just wasn't going to work. So I went next to Kody's, which meant sleeping on a couch for a couple nights.

I woke up and I wasn't in pain. It was amazing.

My head rushed in and out of cognizable emotions all night, waves and waves of me trying to figure out existential things like where the hell am I where the hell am I going why am I on this trip at all? and finally I took a Tramadol, passed out, and woke up not-in-pain with a three year old child standing over me to let me know he was going to play with his marbles and that it might be noisy. The sun was streaming in the window behind me and all I could think was, there's an adorable child standing in front of me, I'm curled up on my friend's couch with my teddy bear, and I am not in pain right now.

This trip is stripping my skin off from the inside out. I haven't even been gone a week yet and it feels like I've relived my whole life over and over and over again several times already. I don't know how to conceptualize this journey for anyone. It feels like one more thing I have to go through all by myself. People get to witness little bits and pieces of it, but everything that connects that is just what my imagination creates. Trying to understand what stories other people make up about me to fill in the spaces between the lines I can't not draw.

People tell me their stories, deeply personal sharing experiences where I can't tell if I'm soaking them up or if they're draining me out, whether they're overflowing my pores or poking holes in me so nothing stays in. Maybe it's both. I marvel at them. I can't go there. I can't even put words on me because if I put words on me I would be one step closer to giving my words to you, and whenever I let anyone get close they take pieces of me and run for the hills.

I felt my body going places without me yesterday a couple times, and I can't tell or remember if I started getting mean to people or just incomprehensible. Finally it became clear that I could be around no more people and should have just gone to sleep hours before. So I did that. I fell asleep, woke up again, realized other people were coming to share the room I was sleeping in, and panicked. ( flashbacks )

I know, somehow, that I'm exactly where I need to be right now. I just hope I don't lose everything in the process of getting from right now to all the other right nows I have to have before this is over. I hope I don't push too many people away too hard that I can't get them back.

"Overwhelmed" is really the only word right now.
Maybe I'll feel calmer after I get some sleep.
Maybe I should have ordered a decaf. Maybe I should have thrown out the iced hazelnut latte when I got outside and realized I had forgotten to say "decaf", since I know even decaf is usually too much caffeine.
But I don't feel like I'm having caffeine problems. I know that feeling. This ain't it.
This is: I've driven over 750 miles in the last day and a half, I've eaten a lot of foods that are confusing to my system, I've just packed up all my shit into my car and am driving around like a hobo trying to find balance between 'vacation' and 'reality' in my head so I can just relax and enjoy myself.
It's like I'm physically incapable of just letting go and having a good time.
Maybe I'll learn how tomorrow. I'm passing out now.

The drive to twistor's family's farm was not bad at all. Barely over four hours, no traffic, no problems. Plenty of photos to come. I have been well-fed tonight: curried quinoa, sesame turnip greens, broccoli-fennel soup. They raise goats and ducks here, which means I get to eat cheese and eggs when I come visit, because I have no problem eating cheese and eggs from animals which I have personally seen are treated well. So I had some goat cheese on crackers. I even tried a little goat milk, but my body told me pretty quickly that this was not something it wanted any more of, so I let twistor finish it.

I have a long day of driving tomorrow, so I'm going to get some sleep now.

Ipod is synced. Cash is in wallet. Gas tank is full. Now I just have to load up the car and take out the trash.

This time I will NOT FORGET to take out the trash.

dear god,

CAN I PLEASE NOT BE PANICKING RIGHT NOW? this is my fucking vacation that YOU TOLD ME TO TAKE.

love,
oliver

david_feuer came to visit me last weekend!

He did many useful things while he was here. He was unable to persuade me to get up on Sunday morning at 9am, even by banging on my door and jumping up and down, so instead he channeled his excess energy into...CLEANING MY KITCHEN.

So when my grumpy ass rolled out of bed around 10:30, I was amazed to find myself transported into AN ALTERNATE DIMENSION in which I have a clean kitchen! I thought I had wandered into another PLANET.

David is the best! :D

So, I wholeheartedly forgive him for the events of this morning. But I have to share them with you, anyway!

I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, used a couple sheets of toilet paper, finished off the roll, and went to retrieve a fresh one from under my sink. BUT THERE WERE NONE TO BE FOUND.

SOMEBODY stuck my last roll of toilet paper on there, and did not tell me I was out of toilet paper!

("Ohhhhhh, SHIT!!" is the only appropriate response here.)

Many of you know that I never, never, never bake. I cannot. Whenever I try, something goes horribly wrong. So, when giniliz was here a year ago and baked muffins, she left behind a bunch of paper muffin cups. I walk past these muffin cups every day and laugh at them, because I knew that I would never, never, never use them...but I couldn't bring myself to throw out perfectly good muffin cups.

How fortunate that I cannot bake and cannot bring myself to throw out useful things!

Today, my friends.....I learned a very valuable lesson:

WIPING YOUR ASS WITH A MUFFIN CUP IS HILARIOUS.

I am so glad I have friends to keep my life interesting. :)

AHAHAHAHAHAHHAA I just broke my new power cord. This time it was clearly a case of Oliver being a dumbass and pulling it just a little too hard once too many times. It still works, but only if you don't move while it's plugged in. At least no wires are exposed this time. And, given that my options are:

(a) go buy a new one for $80
(b) order one from eBay and stay here till it arrives
(c) cross my fingers, keep using this one, and if I end up without a computer to use...oh well?

...I'm going with (c).

HOLY FUCK I'M LEAVING TOMORROW.
I'm so not ready for this trip.
But when am I ever ready for anything, really? Readiness is really an illusion.

Dear Creepy Person on Pennsylvania Street,

I really needed a nice relaxing walk tonight. I'm stressed out and the point of my going out for a walk was to clear my head. I wasn't really going anywhere, so I didn't have any money on me anyway. You could clearly see that I was on the phone, so when I paused my conversation to tell you "sorry, I can't help you", I don't see how that communicated anything remotely like "if you continue to follow me for several blocks I will be thrilled to stop and talk to you instead of to my friend on the phone". My name is not "little buddy", so yelling that at me is not likely to make me want to hang out with you, or even give you money that I don't have. Kicking a random car when I walk past you, waiting till I'm about half a block away, and then starting to follow me does not give me the impression that you are someone I want to spend time with. In fact, that actually makes me want to get the fuck away from you as rapidly as possible because how the fuck do I know you're not going to shoot me? I don't know you, dude. All I know is that you kick cars when I walk past without giving you money.

I hope you find whatever it is that you need tonight. I assure you, it isn't me. I'm sorry you mistook me for someone who would help you if you just followed me around a few more blocks. I wish I could find a way to show you the love and compassion that you need, but tonight I was just too full of my own head crap and frankly, you scared me too much.

Love,
Oliver

I'm really excited about this trip, but I'm also overwhelmingly stressed out by it. I kind of figured out why I'm so stressed out by it, though.

1. I'm going to feel like I'm homeless again. As thrilled as I am to visit all the people I'm going to visit and have all the adventures I'm going to have...this is a really really long time for me to be in my car couchsurfing instead of home, and as David has made me acutely aware over the last month, I still treat my home like I'm going to have to leave it at any minute, I still don't treat it like it's home, I still live like I'm just a notch above homeless. Plus, I don't really have places and dates nailed down at all. I know I'm gonna be in Philly the first Saturday, DC the second, and at the Quaker gathering the third and fourth. Between that, it's all up in the air.

2. Road trips make me miss my dad. And I've been really, disturbingly enough, missing my dad lately. And I'm actually going to be this close to where he works. But I can't do it. I can't. I can't deal with seeing him right now and I can't deal with trying to find out if he would even want to see me and finding out that the answer is no. Even if he weren't in the opposite direction from where I'm planning to go.

Part of me is more excited about coming back from the trip than about going on it, right now. That doesn't feel right.


Good news, though...the contact lens situation is sorted out. With a -12 lens in each eye, I can see well enough. Not perfectly out of the right eye, but WAY perfectly out of the left...and, once my eyes adjusted, the balance is so much better than my vision is actually improved from what it was before. Of course, I had to figure this out myself, the damn optometrist was full of crap, but at least when I called and told him I had figured it out myself he ordered the lenses I told him to order instead of making me come in again. I had no idea it was possible to be 100% sure my blind spot was clear while driving, instead of 98%-and-pray! I can actually turn my head quickly and KNOW there's not another car there when I have to cross 3 lanes to get from the Kessler ramp at 38th St onto I-65! AMAZING!!

Now if only my car would stop making that damn clicky sound when I push the gas. I swear, I never have any problems with this car...except right now, days before my trip. I frantically called up my supermechanic guru friend, and she's going to look at it tomorrow. She says it does not sound worrisome and is probably just...something, I forgot what she said. That's what she is for. So I don't have to remember. Right?!

A year ago, 30 pounds of breast tissue were removed from my chest.

I had mixed up the days, thinking it was June 2 when I'd be celebrating one year of freedom. I think I'd had that date in my head because that really IS the day to celebrate one year of freedom. May 28 was the surgery, but June 2 was the day it became real. I could sit up in bed. I could use my arms again.

A year later, I still have a lot of pain and swelling. Some of the nerve damage has not reversed yet, and other areas were further damaged in the surgery. My lymphatic system took a nasty hit, and I'm finally getting that taken care of now, but it's meant a lot more pain and fatigue and depression and general non-optimal-functioning over the last year. And, although my chest looks quite lovely...you can hardly see the scars, and the nipples are absolutely seamless...it doesn't really look like it belongs with the rest of my torso. My stomach still sticks out awkwardly, and I can't for the life of me figure out why, because it's clearly NOT fat, but it LOOKS like it is, and it's all round and weird looking and honestly I'm really uncomfortable about it because it's totally NOT hideable in any way.

But...they're gone. They're gone, they're gone, they're gone. I have nightmares still, sometimes, that they grew back or something, and then I wake up and hug myself and my hands tell me again and again...THEY ARE GONE, they are really gone, they are really still gone and not ever coming back, and I'm okay.

The people who were in my life at that time are also, for the most part, gone. I try not to think about that too much, but sometimes it creeps in. I was thinking it would be neat, for instance, to try to celebrate with everyone who'd supported me through that process, and then I realized that most of the people who were part of the surgery and the immediate before-and-after period all pretty much dropped out of my life. I still haven't processed a lot of that loss, and so I still have a lot of healing both physically and emotionally to do.

I just can't believe how far I've come. How much I've changed. How thoroughly unrecognizable I am from who I was five years ago.

I still don't know who I am, but in some ways, that's kind of refreshing. It's giving me space now to get to know me on my own terms, to let go of things I couldn't let go before, to keep stopping and starting all over again until I get a handle on what's going on. There are parts of me I really miss, now, that I thought I had to get rid of, and I am trying to learn how to get those back without pushing out the parts of me I like now, and everything about that process tells me "I'M OKAY! I'M A PERSON THAT I LIKE! I like myself so much that I can't fit into all the parts I like at once!" and then I breathe, breathe, breathe -- because now, my chest expands all the way to let my lungs take in all the air they want, and believe me, I knew the moment I could first do that that it would never ever get old and sure enough it still hasn't -- and again, my hands tell me just how far we've come.

WOW.

Friday morning I had a meeting at the Damien Center, which is a community center providing services to those infected with or affected by HIV/AIDS. The meeting was arranged by the director of the Indiana AIDS Fund, who supervises the AmeriCorps team. One of this year's team members, who will be the team leader next year and is also stationed at the Damien Center, was also there; and the person who would be my direct supervisor if I am placed at the Damien Center was there as well.

The way this process works is, there are a number of different site placements for AmeriCorps team members, and they do their best to match each of us up with the best fit for our skills and interests. The other sites I'm aware of include a mental health facility, a hospital emergency room, and a smaller nonprofit. I had a feeling they would want to place me at the Damien Center, although I was totally open to the possibility that another site might be a good fit that I just wasn't aware of yet. I don't know why. I just had a feeling.

After this meeting...well, all I can say is, I feel like somebody sat down, wrote a job description called "Oliver's Perfect Site Placement", and handed it to me and asked me if I would please consider accepting it. One of the questions in the application was "please describe your ideal site placement", and I labored over this question for weeks, and seriously if I didn't know better I would think they read my application before writing the job description and did this on purpose. I'm at a friend's house right now so I can't go grab the essay from the application and show it to you, but I'll try to remember to do this when I get home. But seriously, it's even better than that. They're basically like, "You will get to do basically anything you want to do. If you want structure, you can have lots of structure. If you don't, great, we're really flexible. You can wear whatever you want to work. Nice hair, by the way. Mainly we need someone who is good at working with diverse populations, networking and building relationships with clients and providers, and helping us identify ways that we could serve clients better and implementing those programs. OH, THOSE ARE THE THINGS WHICH YOU ARE BEST AT?!! SWEET! And you want to get involved with fundraising? AWESOME. There are some limits on what you can do as an AmeriCorps member -- you can't actually be the one to officially write a grant, for instance, and technically only 10% of your hours can be directly related to fundraising, but if you want to be involved with 'outreach and development' and 'event planning' we can TOTALLY make that happen. We would LOVE for you to be involved in developing stronger programs for the transgender community, but it is TOTALLY up to you if you want to do that or not. And please let us know if you want to go to any trainings, conferences, anything like that, we'll make sure you can do it and that the hours count toward your AmeriCorps service." I didn't want to straight-up come out and be like "WELL, in that case, I'm hoping to go to this this this this and this conference! How much funding is actually available? :D" but...don't be surprised if I start appearing at your local homoqueertransdiversitysomethingorother related conference with a bucket of condoms and a fistful of pamphlets. ;-)

They showed me where my cubicle will be. I know some of you are probably going "ewww, cubicles!" but, lemme tell ya, dude, I have never had my own actual workspace before, this is a huge step up in the world for me. Cubicles are also very easy to decorate. Offices are not. I got to meet the person who will be training me to do HIV testing. I got to meet several people I'd be working with, and they all seemed like really good, positive people who generally have their shit together.

The person who was essentially interviewing me, I found out just before she arrived, had just found out that one of her clients had died very unexpectedly the night before. I could tell she was a little off, but about halfway through the meeting I realized...her eyes were all red and puffy. She'd had to stop crying, probably go fix her eye makeup, and step away from dealing with this death...to come hang out with me for an hour and be as friendly and functional as possible. I just wanted to hug her!

Oh, apparently that's part of the job too. EVERYBODY HUGS. They asked me if I like hugs. "I'm a massage therapist! Of course I like hugs. Did you know human beings need at least 4 hugs a day to function properly, and ideally we should get at least 12?" Well, I got three of my four right there as soon as I said that. "You're going to fit RIGHT in here!" they told me.

Part of me really doesn't believe anyone who thinks I'm going to "fit right in" anywhere, but I'm so excited right now that I'm feeling totally open to things happening that I don't believe in.

I've been on fucking Cloud Nine ever since it became clear that this is what I'm doing for the next year of my life. As soon as I took that deep breath and said, "Okay God, it's totally clear to me that you have dropped in my lap EXACTLY WHAT I HAVE BEEN ASKING YOU FOR all this time, so it's NOT an option for me to walk away from it, no matter HOW scared I am..." everything has felt so fucking RIGHT inside of me. I don't even know how to explain it. I started having these moments where I'd unexpectedly realize, hey, guess what I'm doing next year! and get all momentarily excited and giddy...and now I'm having those moments EVERY MOMENT, I'm walking around for hours and days on end like this. It almost feels too good to be true, but unlike other times when I've felt like something I'm about to do might be too good to be true, I feel like...this time I'm actually really open to the possibility that this is EXACTLY what I need right now, and that God is taking care of making sure that I can be and do whatever I need to be and do for this to work.

I keep having the thought, "I've never been this excited about anything before in my life," but that's not entirely accurate. I've never before had the capacity to be this excited about anything before in my life. It's more me that's changed than that the specific set of circumstances are excellent. I'm in a place where I can experience this.

WOW.

My choir is planning to do a Costa Rica tour next year.

It's going to cost about $2000 to go, plus I'll have to get a passport, which means I'll have to change my name legally on all my identity docs, which will be at least another several hundred.

I refuse to believe that I'm not going, but I will say that I was already biting my nails when I thought maybe it would be more like $800.

I absolutely REFUSE to believe that I'm not going, though. Did I say that loudly enough? SOMEHOW I WILL GO.

I am armed and dangerous!
I am going around shooting up the place.
I HAVE A CAMERA!!!

Look out, world.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/37277087@N08/sets/72157618794385777/

I am going to read the entire court decision before I believe I will be informed enough to formulate opinions about the passage of Prop 8. I hope that others will do so as well.

I also really hope that someone will produce a reader-friendly, objective summary of the actual court decision so that as many people as possible will have access to the facts without having to read 187 pages of legal shpageegle. I fully embrace that not everybody is as foolish as I to attempt such a thing. ;-)

I just personally really want to know what happened, and I don't feel like my opinion on a court decision is worth much if I don't really know what the court decision says, just like I wouldn't write a book report on a book I'd never read, or decide that I didn't like raisins if I'd never eaten a raisin. (I don't like raisins. No matter how many times I eat them. ;-)) I want my opinion to be worth something. So I'm reading it.

http://news.findlaw.com/nytimes/docs/glrts/cal-prop8-same-sex-marriage.html