Too Damn Much - Too Damn Soon?

It's late, so I am going to write this before eating a late night salad and going to bed.

The big happenings today-before I forget (and I will) was the other transgender woman veteran Liz saw at the VA hospital today, and the LGBT Equality sticker I saw at the receptionist's window (Wow!)as I was setting up an appointment to start the gender marker process.

I was amused at how many times she did her best not to mis-pronoun me in the process AND act like she wasn't.'

And finally, going to Liz's Knitting Group tonight at a Panera's. No, I didn't knit-but I wrote.

More on all of this later!!!  

"Marking" the Future.

I am fairly sure I talk about gender markers, how the process works and how much I procrastinate about starting/completing the process more than the Republican prez candidates talk about hating all Obama does.

My latest "excuse" was waiting for some sort of a definitive answer on my health concerns which seem for the most part stem from a form of sun poisoning. The medical process literally was taking me at least once a week to my local or regional Veteran's Administration medical centers. So, to even consider going back to the VA to secure the therapist documents to begin the process was intimidating.

But Tuesday, when yet again I am back at the VA ( since I found out the psychologist who paved the way for my HRT is still there)-it's going to be appointment time again!

True "Transgender Privilege?"

Perhaps the greatest amount of "privilege" goes to transgender women and trans men. After all, in most cases we have walked the mile on either side of the gender fence. Of course I have written about it here in Cyrsti's Condo several times over the years. All well and good-until Paula came along and said it better!!!:

"Very true, nothing makes you understand privilege like giving it up. There are now places I will not go, certainly not when alone where as a couple of years ago I could go anywhere without worry.

It is also right that the companionship of women is so much more supportive than the fellowship of men."

Thanks Paula!

Headed for A Nursing Home Closet?

It is a very real fear to many transgender seniors: what will/could/maybe happen to us if we get in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong nursing home-and have nothing we can do about it. Not surprisingly, not much is written on the subject which I can pass along here in Cyrsti's Condo. It's from The Atlantic and is called "The Challenge of being Transgender in a Nursing Home." It goes on to say: Many elder-care facilities are ill-equipped to deal with the needs of transgender seniors, who fear that a move to assisted living may leave them vulnerable to discrimination and harassment.

 Plus (of course) it gets better: " In nursing homes, gender-segregated spaces like bedrooms and housing wings can be of particular concern to transgender seniors. As Alia Wong recently reported for The Atlantic, the U.S. Department of Education has affirmed that the protections of Title IX extend to transgender students; in July, citing Title IX, the Justice Department filed a statement in support of a transgender student suing a Virginia school district after being required to use an “alternative” restroom. But, Cook-Daniels said, there are currently no similar anti-discrimination regulations in place for nursing homes and other assisted-living facilities."

If you are of a more advanced age and are up for a less than uplifting read (scary) follow the link above.

Does't This Suck?

Unidentified Pinterest Photo-NOT Pat-no pearls!

From Pat, this experience which more than likely brings back stressful cross dressing memories to most of us:

"As you may know my ability to get out and about is somewhat dependent on when I am home alone.  Last night was one such opportunity and my plan was to eat, shower, shave, call my wife, dress and then head to the B Lounge, about 20 miles away.  They were doing their Enmoda Thursday with karaoke from 9-11 followed by a drag show.  I have been there on other Thursdays but since I get up at an ungodly early hour to go to work I always leave as the DQs (drag queens) are arriving and have never stayed for the drag show.   I do often do my part to try to clear the place out by singing a few songs.

Last night was proceeding as planned.  I had hoped to stay to see a part of the drag show or perhaps talk with one or two of the DQs before I left so I put a little extra effort into my dress and makeup.  I applied the foundation and blended on a top coat...a little extra blush, eye liner and shadow and I had a new tube of mascara so that went on extra thick, followed by lip-liner and lipstick.

I had on my black bra with breast forms, black slip, nude pantyhose and a silky nylon black and white print wrap dress with a light thin white jacket.  The blonde wig comb-out seemed to work well and with my 3" black pumps, the dangly clip on earrings, my double strand of pearls around my neck and small pearl strands on my wrist (costume jewelry)  I was ready to launch.

My typical M.O. is to open the garage door and wait the 3-5 minutes for the interior garage light to go out and then get into the car and drive away from the condo.  I figure that once in the car, even if the garage light goes back on when the car bumper breaks the electric eye at the garage entrance I will be out quickly enough to avoid detection.  The part of the condo development where I live are double units.  Each building has two units with adjoing garages facing the street.  Our adjoining neighbors are a nice Italian heritage couple in their 70s so I figure that they are in for the night when I head out dressed.

While waiting for the garage light to go out I loaded my purse, checked my hair and makeup, grabbed a large travel cup of coffee and a bag with my nicer 3.5" peep toe pumps for changing into when I got to my destination.

With the coffee in one hand, my purse over one arm, my bag with the spare shoes in the other hand and my car keys ready to go I opened the door to the garage, stepped down the two steps to the garage floor, heard my  heels clack on the garage floor for the 3-4 steps to the car door when the garage light came on as my neighbor entered the garage and broke the electic eye beam at the garage entrance.  To use the phrase "a deer caught in the headlights" comes close to describing my reaction.

I fled back into the condo and quickly stripped off the dress, wig and heels and stuck my head out the door when my neighbor said he wanted to show me something in the driveway.

Back into the house to throw on slacks, get rid of the bra, slip and breast forms and toss on a polo shirt and then splash some water on my face and wipe of as much makeup as I could.  I figured it was dark out and with my neighbor in his 70s perhaps his eyesight should not detect the traces of makeup, mostly my eyeliner and mascara.

With slip on shoes covering my stocking feet I went out to talk to the neighbor.  He had some rubberized squares that he was planning to bring to his summer house where he had built an arbor and he wanted to show me the squares as well as photos of the arbor trellis and the plans he had followed to build it.

Every encounter with this neighbor includes an update on his and his wife's current physical ailments, his exercise routine and the seasonal sports team.  He is a big Yankee fan and I had figured he would have been in his condo unit watching the Yankee game and this had been the case until he heard my garage door go up and he came out to show me the floor squares, arbor, etc.  After going through the current Yankee situation I quipped "how about those Mets" and that finally brought the conversation to an end. 

It was now an hour later than I had planned to get out and I just did not have the energy to redress and reapply my makeup so my plans for an evening out ended with a huge scare.

During our conversation in the driveways and our garages neither of us mentioned the way I was attired when the garage light went on and there were no comments about any makeup dregs on my face.  I have no clue as to what elements of my attire and presentation he may have seen or more importantly what may have registered in his mind.  This neighbor is a very nice guy, very friendly but a big time yenta.  I guess we just go forward living one day to the next now that my heartbeat is back closer to normal."

You have my sympathy Pat. Sometimes dealing with any 70 year old guy is a challenge. Then again he is a Yankee fan as sad as that may be.

Plus, maybe if he did see any vestiges of your makeup-he may want to compare products!