prog_rock_grrl

You scored as Lara Croft. A thrill-seeking, slightly unscrupulous, tough-as-nails archaeologist, Lara Croft travels the world in search of ancient relics perhaps better left hidden. She packs two Colt .45s and has no fear of jumping off buildings, exploring creepy tombs, or taking on evil meglomaniacs bent on world domination. </td> Lara Croft 79% Captain Jack Sparrow 67% Indiana Jones 63% Neo, the "One" 58% Maximus 46% Batman, the Dark Knight 46% William Wallace 46% The Amazing Spider-Man 38% El Zorro 33% The Terminator 25% James Bond, Agent 007 21% Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com

I'm feeling really scared right now. In about a month I'm going to take the first concrete, oh-my-God-something-you-can-see step in my transition. I'm going from bald to having long auburn hair when my hair replacement system comes in late October. I'm excited and scared, thrilled and nervous. I'm finding myself worrying about all sorts of things. Will I be able to find a job after I start to change? My current job ends in December. I guess we'll see. The fact is, I've always been able to find work when I need it. I know I'll be okay, I'm just worried.

You scored as XVI: The Tower. If badly aspected this can be the worst card of the Tarot deck. The Tower always indicates upheavel, possibly chaos, loss and destruction. Its effects are never pleasant and can be painful. The card illustrates lightning striking the Tower. The lightning cannot be avoided, the destruction it brings is inevitable. All we can do is attempt to survive and rebuild. The Tower brings sudden, severe change. When the Tower appears in a Tarot spread it represents sudden and possibly violent change, disruption or loss. </td> XI: Justice 81% XVI: The Tower 81% XIII: Death 75% VIII - Strength 69% II - The High Priestess 69% IV - The Emperor 69% III - The Empress 63% I - Magician 63% VI: The Lovers 56% XIX: The Sun 56% 0 - The Fool 56% X - Wheel of Fortune 38% XV: The Devil 19% Which Major Arcana Tarot Card Are You? created with QuizFarm.com

I've had a couple of interesting developments this weekend. The first was that my mom sent me a care package. Nothing really fancy, just some delicacies from the South, things I can't get here in NZ. The nice thing is that I've been persona non grata lately with her and my step-father. We haven't spoken since I came out as transsexual to them. There have been a few emails but that's it. So this is a nice development. We'll see if it leads to anything. My mom shows love through giving things to people, so we'll see.

The second nice thing, which hits closer to home and is a lot cooler to me, happened with my wife. I've been making an effort to make sure I'm not in my wig or any femme gear around her, just so I'm not throwing it in her face. Today she came home and didn't call first to let me know she was on her way. She almost walked in on me. I pulled the wig off and put it in a desk drawer. Then I asked her to please call so she wouldn't walk in on me. She said "Honestly, it's not that big a deal. I'm going to see you sooner or later. I might not like it but it's reality. Don't worry about it." I almost fell over.

So these are two good developments. Things are moving forward. My wife's even giving me advice on my voice and walk. Of the two good events, I'm more psyched about my wife's but I'll take both of them gladly.

I know this hardly makes me unique in the ranks of TS folks, but I loathe my body the way it is now. I hate having to see myself in the mirror. That's not me and I've only had fleeting glimpses of me since I came out.

I'm having to wait to go on hormones for some very good reasons. I can accept that. It will come. These periods of self-loathing have been very, very strong as of late. I just hold on for dear life until it's over.

And would someone PLEASE tell the folks at Live Journal that Zealand (as in New Zealand, the place where I live) is a real word? I'm sick of the spell checker saying it's not a word! Sheesh....

I just absolutely bottomed out this afternoon in terms of my mood. I just got very sad and angry. I guess it's not too hard to understand why this was the case, a lot went on this week. Tuesday was the anniversary of my brother's suicide. It's been easier to deal with these past two years since I've been in New Zealand. The Fourth of July isn't a big deal over here, it's just another day and it helps going through the day without people acting like it's wonderful. I love my country, don't get me wrong, but having my brother kill himself on July 4th polluted the day for me.

As if it wasn't enough, I had my parents on top of that. The good news is that my mom and I exchanged emails. I wrote and let her know that I was thinking of her, that I missed my brother and that I love her. She wrote back and basically said the same. We both stayed very neutral and well away from the TS issue. Probably a good idea. I'm not ruling out that she might come around but I'm not banking on it.

So getting through the week took a lot of energy. By this afternoon I hit the wall. I just got very down. I saw my reflection in the mirror and was hit with a wave of self-loathing. I HATED what I saw. This bald *thing* looking back at me....it's not me. It's just so hard some days. How I envy those of you who've transitioned or are in the process and see *yourselves* when you look in the mirror. I can't wait for that to happen for me.

I had another memory of my buried TS past resurface this morning. When I was about twelve, I was a regular participant in the Presbyterian Church youth group. My mother thought it was because I was a religious young person. In fact it was a way to get out of the house and away from my alcoholic shit of a father once a week. Once we did a musical about the life of Jesus. Now, I can't sing to save my life but I was in it.

The best part about the show was that we got to wear makeup. It was wonderful! The boys complained about having to wear makeup but I thought it was great. I absolutely loved it. On the night of the show, we got made up and went under the lights to see how we looked. I got sent back to put on more makeup. I bounced down the stairs and put on more blush and eye liner. The guys were looking at me like I'd lost my marbles. I hadn't, for a few minutes I'd found them. Then I pushed it all back down and pretended it hadn't happened. Until this morning, when I remembered.

It was chilly this morning as I set out to run my errands, but then you'd expect that since I am living in the Southern hemisphere. Getting used to having winter in July has been an adjustment. I drove through the light Saturday morning traffic, headed downtown to the central library and the big stop I had planned. My fingers beat in time to the Foo Fighters CD on the stereo. I'm a big enough girl to admit that I was nervous.

Finding a parking place was easy, it was early and the stores were just opening. I made my way to the library to pick up "The Riddle of Gender," a book Jenny Boylan recommended in a email to my partner. For the record, Jenny was very sweet and thoughtful. I then dilly-dallied around the library, placing a hold on the new Laurell Hamilton thriller and thinking of reasons to stay there. If I stayed in the library, then I wouldn't have to go to the big stop I had planned. I picked up two books from the fiction section before my interior monologue started.

"You're stalling," I said.
"Yup," I replied. "Sure am."
"Dammit Kate, check out the books and get your ass in gear!"

When I talk to myself that way, I know not to argue. I checked out the books, took a deep breath and walked to the department store next to the library. I had expected to be more nervous, hell, I'd been more nervous when I was futzing around in the library, but I was calm when I walked into the department store. The women's department was right in front of me when I entered and, fortuitously, the undergarment section was the first I entered. I took a deep breath and walked up to a sales person.

"Hi, I wonder if you can help me," I said.
"I'll try," she said with a smile.
"I need some camisoles," I said.
"What size?"
"Well, she's about the same size as me," I said with a straight face.

We picked out four camisoles, two white, two black, in two sizes each. I thanked her and walked over to the checkout counter. Then I thought "Ah, what the hell."

I stood basking in the certain knowledge that for the first time in my life, I was shopping in the right department of a store. It just felt wonderful. Then the teenage clerk got to me.

"Can you help me pick out a bra?" I asked. "It's for an outfit I'm putting together, I was thinking maybe an inexpensive sports bra?"

Well, turns out they were having a half-off sale and we found me a nice sports bra which will fit with the extender I bought. I paid for my purchases, getting out for less than $85 NZ, and bounced out of the store. I walked past the men's department and just started beaming. I grinned all the way to the car park elevator where I almost broke down into tears. I'd done it. I felt like I'd crossed another boundary. I floated through the rest of the day.

I almost had an "oops" moment at work yesterday. My left foot was really itching so I took off my shoe and started to remove my sock so I could scratch it. "Big deal, Kate," you say. "Just scratch your foot."

Only I got the sock halfway down my foot and remembered that my toenails are painted a sparkly magenta. Fortunately the itch as about halfway down my foot so I could scratch it and still keep my sparkly toes hidden.

Whew!

I got terribly, terribly frustrated last night. I looked in the mirror, something I generally try to avoid but I was washing my hands and the damned thing was right there and there was my male face with it's bald noggin. I know that with hair, femme hair, I have a feminine face. It's so incredibly frustrating having to wait to get hair so I can finally start to look like me. Patience can be a real bitch sometimes.

I had to go home sick yesterday but I think I managed to hold off the .... whatever-it-was I had, cause I feel fine this morning. I did manage to make it to pick up my sweetie at work. On the way home, she said she'd called work but that they said I wasn't there, guess she didn't check her voice mail. :) She said that right before she called, she thought "should I ask for (male name) or for Kate? .... Hmmn, he's still (male name) to the world, I'll ask for him." I was very touched and it helped make my day.

I'll tell you, sometimes this "adult responsibility" BS really sucks. I'm off to work in a few minutes and even though I'd like my job, I'd still like to stay home and play. Ah well. I do have a sore throat and I'm wondering if I'm coming down with the cold my partner had late last week. I hope not, she was miserable.

I'm trying really hard not to get down about how much needs to be done on the TS front. That won't do any good. I'm working on concentrating on what I can do today and being pleased with how far I've come. Am I as far along as my sisters Karen and Natalie? Nope. But I have come a good ways since I came out last October. Baby steps, Kate, baby steps. :D
Hugs to you all,
Kate

I play an online game called World of Warcraft (WoW), which is where I met my good buddy Tj, who's also on livejournal. It's became an oasis of sorts for me. It's a virtual world where you create a character and go on adventures through them. You can be just about anything. My main character is a female Night Elf. Before I decided (or even consciously thought of) calling myself Katherine, I named her Ekaterina. Apart from Tj and one other game friend, no one knows I'm TS. They all just know me as Kate or Ekat. And that feels so good. To have people cay "she" and know they're talking about me...to just be called Kate...it feels wonderful. I even talk to them via an online chat, slightly pitching my deep voice a bit higher and no one bats an eye. It's a great window into the future.

Hey Guys & Girls,
I just wanted to let you all know how much your replies to my posts mean to me. They never fail to lift my spirits. Thanks!
Kate

I wrote to my mom this week and asked if we could postpone our regular talk. She wrote back and said she accepted my offer to put off talking indefinitely. I was relieved and incredibly pissed at the same time. This is pushing all kinds of buttons in me. When I was young she didn't protect me from an abusive father. I felt like she abandoned me. She's always cared a lot more about how things *look* than about how things *are.* She stayed with said abusive alcoholic sace-of-crap father for 19 years. Yes, I know all about battered-woman syndrome and she had it in spades. A classic case. I also know that I'm hurt and royally pissed. She ashamed of me. Said she could never tell anyone about me. My brother committed suicide eight years ago and she tells people he's still alive so she won't have to deal with the stigma of having a suicider for a son. She said she couldn't tell people she didn't vote for Bush and definitely couldn't tell them her child's transsexual. I'm hurt and angry and I just want to scream.

Every time I run spell-check, it tells me that the word "Zealand" is misspelled. How do I tell LiveJournal that it's actually part of the name of a real country? :)

My parents and I have talked on the phone every weekend since I've moved to New Zealand. It was nice and confirmed my idea that our relationship gets better as I put more distance between us. Since I came out to them, the talks have been put off. This week I wrote to ask if we could put if off again. My mom wrote back and said she was accepting my offer to put off talking at all for the time being. All I wanted to do was put it off for a week but I'll take the indefinite postponement. I'd been absolutely dreading talking to them. We've only talked once since I came out and it wasn't pretty.

I've been on a real reading spree with graphic novels. In the last two weeks, I've read both volumes of Alan Moore's "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" and "Watchmen" and all seven volumes of Frank Miller's "Sin City." I recommend all very highly, good, dark, gritty entertainment.

I also checked out a two-volume set from Dark Horse Comics of reprints of Tarzan comics from the 1930s. This is beautifully drawn stuff and while I was reading it at lunch today, I realized I'd read these same stories when I was young. I was happy that I recognized the stories and told the two coworkers I was eating with about it. Both of them know I'm TS. One looked at me and said "Boys generally like comics, girls don't." For some reason, that really took the air out of my sails.

I know it's just a sweeping generalization and doesn't mean crap in the long (or even short) run. But it still hurt. I've spent so much of my life trying to prove that I am something I'm not, a man. Now that I've realized and accepted that I'm a woman, it was like I had to prove that I am one. I know, so what if one person says that girls don't like comics. It's like saying women don't like porn. I know enough women who love porn to shoot holes in that theory. My wife likes to say that she was never competitive and hated sports. I didn't like some sports but loved playing baseball. I was teased mercilessly by my teammates but I still enjoyed playing the game. I like softball too.

Maybe this is just another step or lesson in learning to be *me*. That there isn't any one right way to be anything. I just love learning and growing.