luxemburger

Ahh, okay, so, Lora thinks this was stupid of me, but I rescheduled my endocrinologist appointment from tomorrow to Thursday because I would have missed out on two(!) days of working with my favorite sexagenarians if I didn't.

I know, I'm lame, but I really love working for women of a certain age, you guys.

Today was Day 1, which means I am in a pretty good mood right now. A job so well done it might as well be an ode to efficiency, a room full of little old ladies getting my pronouns right and cooing over the cowgirl, and the prospect of doing it all over again tomorrow: BLISS.

( I think this is why older women love me. )

Annie and Laura got to experience adorably drunk Lora the other night, which is an incredibly rare occurrence, but one of my favorite things in the world.

Somehow this ended up with me busting out the few baby pictures I have saved of her on my computer, which led to the re-discovery of a certain pre-transition picture of me (NSFW) which had been saved in the same folder.

(If that sounds odd, it's because I have all the pictures Lora sent me in the first couple of weeks we were dating and all of the pictures that I sent her in the same time period saved in the same place.)

And, anyway, Lora looked over my shoulder and semi-shuddered and said, "That's fucking weird." And then I turned the computer towards Annie, and she looked at the picture, looked at me, looked back at the picture, took a breath and then said, "Marshall... that's... weird..." And then I turned the computer further so that Laura could see, and guess what she had to say?

Yep. That's weird.

( So I've spent a lot of time thinking about the girl I was pre-transitioning in the last couple of days, particularly in regards to our bodies, and it's been sort of strange. )

So I don't know why I never seem to remember this, but I am totally an intimidating person to be in a pseudo-fight with. Not that Erica and I are fighting, but whatever weird thing is going on, I am totally the intimidating one. Weird.

Something that is also interesting - singing Liz Phair's Fuck and Run causes me to drop into my chest voice. How fucking strange. I normally can't get to it, but I start with those first few lines ("I woke up alarmed / I didn't know where I was at first / just that I woke up in your arms") and my voice immediately drops so low I can feel my chest vibrating like one of those gigantic speakers you try to avoid at school dances, and feeling it makes me wish I could lay my head on my own chest and tell myself a bedtime story.

Who wants to hear a bedtime story? This guy's doing the talking, so answer accordingly, or whatever.

I keep looking at these pictures, taken tonight, and wondering if anybody else can fully understand what it feels when I look in the mirror and that beautiful, queer boy is what I see now.

I wish I could explain what it feels like to transition. It feels like a long drive home to me. It's being curled up in the passenger seat while somebody else drives, warmth that starts in my belly and slowly makes its way into my chest, knowing we're almost there and that the person driving's going to make sure I get there safely. It's having been on a good trip, but knowing that my bed's waiting at home, and that it's even warmer than this car, and being perfectly happy where I am for the moment, but being excited about getting to climb into that bed soon.

This is a beautiful precipice. This is my deep breath before I swandive over its edge.

I'm sleepy. I'm making sleepy metaphors. I'm sorry. It's just a nice feeling, that's all. I want to savor these days, make sure I'm properly appreciating my history, properly appreciating these early days of a journey that will never have a firm ending. I feel time slowing down as I approach the end of my estrogen-saturated days, and I can see it speeding up again on the horizon, and I wish I could make it move even slower so I could soak in as many details from as many moments as possible.

One of the things I do sort of regret about being single for most of this time, although I don't regret it in general, is that there hasn't been anyone to savor all of these changes as closely as I have. It would be nice to be able to take someone's hand and say, "Touch me here, do you feel that? That's not how it felt last week, that's not how it felt yesterday." To be able to see all the more clearly, from having not only my own perspective, but somebody else's reflected back at me at such close range. "Stand still. You know other people have always been my favorite kind of mirror." "Close your eyes. I'm going to show you everything."

I buzzed my head tonight, and I dreamed about you again this weekend.

Why am I always dreaming about your breasts? When I had that dream two weeks ago, I was dragging my tongue against the underswell - the crook, the heat, the place on your body which I would most like to call home - and you had tangled your fingers behind my head and let your voice ramble gently out into the soft light of the room while my tongue made its travels on your skin.

This time they were the size of miniature cupcakes, and your nipples were a pale orange-peach-tan whose tips delighted my taste buds as if they really were made of frosting. I know that your breasts are larger in real life, and I have no idea what color your nipples actually are, but I can't get the image out of my mind. Your tiny dream nipples, and how I thought I was in heaven when I felt them beading, tightening under my tongue.

Mine. For a few, brief moments I knew that you were mine.

( At first I couldn't tell if I was dreaming of the before or after hand this time. Last time we were curled up on my bed in the yellow bedroom that was my sanctuary in high school, but this time we were somewhere else entirely. Supposedly it was your room. Something tells me it was nothing like your room. )

I AM BACK FROM THE COURTHOUSE.

I AM FEELING APPROXIMATELY ( THIS HAPPY. )

...and, guh, approximately this much like having super hot, super dirty sex to work off the adrenaline. Which is actually more the point of this post than the happiness bit, because on my way home from Greenfield I had this really involved fantasy that I've, uh, had before, but I realized that I've never, ever told anyone ever about this particular ~*~thing~*~ I've got.

So, um. If I were to write some sort of piece about this fantasy, or about other fantasies in the future, would anyone be interested in reading it?

Poll #1478590 just out of, uh, curiosity.
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 14

Would you be interested in reading such things?

1. One of the girls at work didn't recognize me when I was there on Saturday.

...she called one of my supervisors and asked who "the new dude" was.

2. Today my direct supervisor told me that even my laugh has changed, which he said like it was pretty awesome (which... it is). And that it freaks him out because now it reminds him of a guy he went to school with, hahaha.

(He said this while we were on our way outside for a break with Laura and Jill, and I just grinned and looked down, because I was walking in front of everyone.

When I looked back up, Laura was to my right, beaming like she'd been waiting for me to look in her direction. There are so many ways for me to interpret that sort of moment, and I have to say... I like them all.)

3. I am still on loan to that other department. Helped a woman move a filing cabinet today. We should have asked the maintenance guy to bring us a dolly or something, but she's one of those people who get really anxious about certain things until they're done, and I didn't think she'd be able to focus on anything else until the cabinet was moved, so when she asked for my help I just said I'd do it.

A third person joined us to open doors and things while we moved it into its new home and she made some sort of comment about how great it was that we got it moved so quickly.

The first woman said something like, "Yeah, I asked Marshall if he would do it because I knew [Other Guy #1] and [Other Guy #2] would cry about it. Plus he's so strong," and there was this note of pride in her voice like I'd really done something that meant a lot to her - things that mean a lot to people in corporate office world are really bizarre, but whatever - and I just grinned to myself again, like I always do.

(...but I did find myself thinking that if a certain most recent ex-girlfriend of mine were here, the retelling of that story would totally have led to really hot sex.)

4. Um, I cut my hair again. Having the sides cropped so short means that I have to buzz it like every week, and then I'm just standing there with scissors nearby and I end up taking a little off the top or whatever.

So, anyway. I mention that because the woman who has the cubicle next to my temporary one (in the other department) gave me the most strangely delivered compliment on it this morning.

( It was really bizarre. )

I made a very quizzical face once she walked away. (Did I mention corporate office world does awfully strange things to people sometimes?)

5. ( This series of pictures amuses me. )

...hee. ♥

( A picture. )

...I love how this is how I look today, and that I had a room full of (~60-75)-year-old women calling me Sir and arguing over who got to take me home with them.

( Because Liz asked nicely. ;) )

Also, Lora and Laura and I are watching Season 4 of How I Met Your Mother because Laura hasn't seen it yet, and goddammit, apparently the character I am most like is Ted.

HELLO, I AM EVERYONE'S LEAST FAVORITE. NICE TO MEET YOU.

( Dorking out for a second. Forgive me. )

Also, tonight my 15-year-old cousin Breanna told me that she's sad I'm transitioning because "as a girl [I] had great boobs." (Followed by her telling me she inherited them as well and then proceeding to give me her cup size.) And then she said, and I quote, "so dont get mad but are you gonna date boys or girls? are u gonna have a dick? i dont no well i'll call you some time".

Oh, family.

I FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE THE COWGIRL GALLOP.

VIDEO AS SOON AS I'VE PRACTICED MORE.

P.S. ( I LOVE THIS SHIRT. )

My dad sent one of my baby pictures along with his birthday card this year.



I was like, "Oh, that's cute."

And then I read the back.



Now I keep reading the back and laughing out loud. This is why I'm not even going to say anything about the fact that my dad wrote the word "daughter" all over the place on his card. He's too fucking adorable for me to even care right now.

(Note: I am, indeed, sitting on a set of train tracks, seemingly unattended. And yes, I do appear to be eating a rock. Additionally, this is exactly how much hair I had for the first three years of my life.)

( Odds and ends. Lots of them. )

And in the meantime, oh my god, I re-discovered how much I love the song Someday by Over the Rhine and, well, to quote Jenny Jenkins, I just wanna fuck 'til I become an astronaut... when I listen to that song.

and if you need my attention
be bizarre
feel free to
ignore convention
it's alright
and if it's a matter of permission
you can do me harm
I wouldn't miss it
I wouldn't miss it
for the world

Seriously, seriously, tell me you don't want somebody to bend you over the nearest, well, anything that's near when you listen to that song.

( Also, um, here, have a bunch of pictures. )

THE END.

Summary: my life, it is the crazy. And there's still a lot I didn't really get to, but this will have to do for now. God, when did my life become such a very full thing?

I am teaching Annie and Laura to appreciate snuggling.

I didn't think it was going well, but then Annie ended up being on the opposite end of the couch from me during Veronica Mars tonight - with Laura between us - and she grumbled about it. Though she wouldn't admit it, I am at least 85% sure the grumbling was because I wasn't going to be curled into her side anymore.

They're learning, you guys. This is so exciting!

Thing that is also exciting: Laura told me that one of the women in our department who, to put it mildly, has something of a mutually antagonistic relationship with everybody else came up to her re: donations to the fund for changing my name legally (which I'm not supposed to know about, as it's meant to be a birthday present) and said, "I don't like a lot of people. But I like Marshall. So I'm going to give something."

♥♥♥

[ETA: Also, this is why people shouldn't save their Facebook passwords on my computer. Ahahaha. I am so easily amused.]

I saw Jack and Rosie today. He had his chest reconstruction last week, and he's looking great. We went back to their hotel room for a few minutes after leaving Rein's, and he took off his bandages to let me see his chest, and. Ugh. It looks so good. I'm so happy for him.

Also, as I told him, I've been downplaying my desire for top surgery, mostly because I'm trying to stay ambivalent about whether or not I'd eventually want it, because while I objectively appreciate my breasts for now, I know they're going to look a lot different (i.e. less attractive) once I'm on T, and (even now) I'd feel a lot less socially-dysphoric if I had a male chest... but I think for pragmatic reasons I'd better just not think too much about wanting it.

Anyway. The point of this post is to say: I made a video! I'll probably be making more. They'll probably get better over time, but I don't think it's half-bad for a first attempt.



( Pts. 2 and 3. )

So the other night I went to a "party" at a friend's house, and I made Other Laura give me a mohawk before we went. It is pretty badass. But! It is not a spiky mohawk. Just so you know. That's probably not going to happen. (Mostly because I like being able to touch my own hair.)

Anyway. I HAVE PICTURES! THEY EXIST UNDERNEATH THIS TEXT!

( (No, for serious. They do.) )

Anyway! I really enjoy how the part of the mohawk the goes down the back of my head is perfect for grabbing a handful of. Whenever I get my hair cut in a shop, I always tell the hairdresser to leave it just long enough on the back and the sides for somebody to be able to grab (i.e. "one finger"?) and then to leave three inches on top and texturize it a lot. I could probably phrase the part about the back and the sides differently, but I kind of like trying to sound as sweet as possible when I'm basically saying, "HEY, I REALLY LIKE GETTING MY HAIR PULLED IN BED!" It is delightful when it earns me a grin and maybe even a bit of a knowing chuckle. Also, I am kind of terrified that once I am fully transitioned people won't think my lechery is charming anymore, and that will make me sad. So maybe I am milking that a bit while I still can.

(Also, omg I really do love getting my hair pulled. There is a chance that will be happening soon, actually. Shh, don't tell anyone. But I am happily anxious as to whether or not it will. I will probably know for sure in the next couple of days. MMM. More info as it becomes available!)

It's not the best picture, and frankly most of what I see when I look at it is how awkwardly my body fits into men's clothing, because I have to buy shirts large enough to cover my hips/waist & then the neck/shoulders/arms/chest end up being being way too loose, but fucking hell. I actually feel like a boy in ( this picture. )

I am feeling discouraged today. Or maybe just awkward. It was too hot earlier to bind. I don't always feel weird about not binding, but today with the heat making me all too aware of myself physically and being hypersensitive to other people's struggle to keep up once I start looking like a "girl" again, on top of that... I don't know. It's not that I don't understand why it's hard to say things the right way when I still look like such a woman sometimes, because I struggle with it myself, but it's frustrating. I don't hate my body. I just hate how it makes everyone forget that it's not actually who I am.

I've been thinking a lot about how often I talked about identity when I started going to therapy back in December. I spent a lot of time explaining how concerned I was about trying to present myself outwardly as closely as I could to my inner self, and how I felt like there was always going to be this huge gap that I didn't know how to get around, and how I couldn't really put into words what it was I thought everyone was missing.

I don't honestly know if this is what I meant. But it fits. And I haven't worried about never being seen the way I want to be seen since I came out to myself, because some part of me knew right away that this was going to eventually cause a lot of that discrepancy to recede. Even on the ugliest days, I can't help but look toward the light at the end of the tunnel, the light in which I finally will be able to live as my real self.

And yet it's still terrifying, really. Because I know pretty much how to engage with the world as I am. I don't always feel like the world is engaging with me, but I know how to make it seem like I'm involved in it. I can't say the same about the person everyone will finally be able to see one of these days. I don't really know how he fits into the grand scheme of this place.

( Hypothetical thoughts about intimacy. )

In the mean time, as another of my co-workers pointed out, I haven't even given much thought to the fact that I don't really know how to even refer to my "parts" any more. What a weird place to find myself in, I end up thinking sometimes, and it's stuff like suddenly not knowing how to refer to my vagina in conversation that ends with me feeling the bizarreness most acutely.

I think I lost track of where I meant to go after that. Anyway. I feel closer to visible than ever, but the inherent arationality of identity and the absolute hugeness of what I'm undertaking is leaving me a little gutted. Excited, but gutted. Easily confused about the difference between irrational and arational. Nervous. And heavy, sometimes. Quietly thrilled, when the rest of it finds a moment to slip away.

I haven't made a substantial post about the gender business in a while, so I figured I'd say a few things.

I've gotten comfortable with this "in between" place. When I was first questioning all of this, I said something to Alex about how genderqueer is a totally valid identity, but that I didn't think it was for me, but now I disagree with that. My hesitancy on the matter mostly related to issues with being seen/read accurately, and that's something I've always struggled with. Which is to say, I've always placed a lot of importance on presenting myself clearly, so that other people can understand me in the way that I want them to, and I worried that if I were to present simply as queer, as opposed to one thing or another, that I would have a hard time getting people to see that and also have a hard time trusting that people got it, if/when they did.

But. I think I've got a handle on all of that now, and yes, genderqueer is a very good word for what I am.

I am still thinking I'd like T though, and I am also wondering if some people aren't just born to be queer, for lack of a better way to put it. What I mean by that is I always thought that being gay was the extent of my queerness, but I find myself drawn to (and most comfortable with) being queer in other ways too, and if that's my home - was it meant to be? Was I born to be most at ease in a place of my own creation? Was I raised to be? What brought me to this point, really?

I find a lot of comfort and excitement in the idea that I'm not alone in this, that there are many, many of us out there, creating ourselves and our places in life, but one of the more intriguing aspects of this is that although we're all family in a way, we're all so fiercely individual, and it's funny to picture what our "family portrait" would look like.

I'd love to see something like that. I really would.

Haha, also, tonight I tried to give myself a pompadour. Mostly failed. It would have been better if I had some gel instead of this cream stuff, and it would have helped a lot if we had a smaller round brush or even a curling iron... ( but it didn't turn out too badly. )

Thing #1: After a lot of thought, I've decided that I'd like to try going by male pronouns, for a while at least. If I just absolutely don't take to them, I'll switch back, but now that I've adjusted to the new name, I'd like to see how I feel about pronouns too.

So. If for some reason you're talking about me instead of to me, please use things like "he" "him" and "his", unless I change my mind and say otherwise.

Thing #2: I bought some manclothes yesterday, and oh my god. Clothes aren't everything, but I have to say, they sure help.

(What also helps? you ask. Well, surprisingly, the chance to show off all the leg hair I've been accumulating over the last year and a half or however long it's been since the last time I shaved. I still have a couple of weird "bald" spots on the backs of my calves, but I suppose I'm hairy enough for the time being.)

( Also, my fashion sense is just as terrible as ever, but I kind of like that. )

Alex said I look nerdy in the best way possible! And Lora called me a gay boy! (And then she grabbed the clothes out of my hands and put them on herself. It's weird how much it looked like cross-dressing on her and how much it doesn't look like cross-dressing on me. I mean, not weird, because that's what it should look like, but still. I haven't stopped finding it odd when I see myself looking closer and closer to the way I picture myself in my head. One of these days I won't find it so surprising.)

Ugh. I didn't bind for work today because my back's been hurting a lot, and I felt so gross and self-conscious all day, as a result. This... is weird for me. I mean, I knew that I felt more comfortable with my body once I started binding regularly, but I didn't realize how that would affect the degree of discomfort I feel outside of the binder, particularly while in a public space.

Heh. That's kind of a problem.

Also, I just wrote an e-mail to a fellow butch-leaning coworker in which I described (my current assessment of) myself as a "bigendered, often effeminate butch" and then said to go ahead and laugh because I couldn't type something that ridiculous without laughing myself.

...I am amused, but also groaning at myself, because seriously? Seriously? There is no chance in hell my grandma will ever understand that one, brain! Come on.

Additionally, I just walked into the bedroom and held my fists out in front of me and asked Lora what I should get tattooed on my knuckles, were it not to look like the trashiest thing ever. And this is what she said (and then wrote):



_{BRB. LOL-ING FOREVER.}