Another rainy wet day down here. I'm forced to drink International Roast to keep up my hot caffeine count and oh god I'm going to appreciate Essen when I finally get back there.
Very little today, I bummed around both inside and out in between rain and sun. I walked down to the creek, and it is in full flow after all the rain I didn't go much further because it started raining every half hour. I was wearing my beloved white Q jersey which probably isn't the best choice for muddy weather like this, but it survived. I napped in the afternoon, and that was about it. Oh, and I watched the cricket which was good. Oh how the bored horde craves the Boxing Day Test. ;) I sure as hell hope that Gloria is open before New Years Eve, I am desperately in need of a blow-wave.
Ok, I may as well paint this page with the much more interesting news which I wasn't sure if I should put up here. I'm not sure of the reason for my hesitancy, but maybe it is because the situation may not yet have resolved itself to any kind of outcome.
Well, last night about 2:00 am, I was still awake, and my eldest brother came into the kitchen to have a cigarette and some coffee. I wasn't really ready for it, but I figured that it was about the right time. After some small talk, I said I had something to tell him and if it weirded him out too much, I would stop. Then I shuffled my feet a bit and said "I'm a transsexual and I'm becoming a woman". To which he reacted with glazed eyes. I then said I had told Mum a few months ago, and that I felt I had to tell him before I went through any major changes which he wouldn't see until next Xmas. After that I retreated to my bedroom because I had churning stomach and shaking hands. It's easier to tell strangers if they ask, I have no problem, because 99% of them don't matter. But this was my brother, a person who's opinion matters a lot.
So I was there clutching my pillow, and he dropped by my door-way to ask if I was getting the chop, and I said possibly, but that it was years away. He dropped by a few times to ask some more questions to which I was happy to point out my pills, tell him I dressed fairly androgynously at Uni and that I'd changed my name.
About 2:30 am he went to bed, and I ate some egg custard to settle my stomach and wrote in my little book.
I wasn't sure what would happen today, but he didn't leave his room till about 2:00 pm which was unusual even for him and I haven't yet spoken to him, but dinner is coming up, and he'll be sitting just next to me, and although he leaves quite quickly, we may yet talk sometime after midnight. I'm hoping and yet dreading the possibility if you know what I mean.
So? Was I justified in telling him? I guess so. Obviously the question would have been raised eventually, I can't keep coming home as a male forever, one year there will be two parents, two sons and one daughter.
What do I think of his reaction so far? I guess it was pretty good. He didn't scream or try to exorcise me, and he came by later and asked some questions, so he didn't leave me hanging either and the question were asked with more curiosity rather than anger or angst (IMHO). I guess I should be grateful. He isn't religious and is intelligent, so I guess that predisposes him towards a better reaction. Oh well, perhaps I'm making mole-hills into mountains, or vice-versa, it is better to have family that knows I guess than in the dark, but this is balanced out against whether it is a good or bad reaction.
Yes, there you have it. I obviously don't know what his spin is on it at the moment, because I haven't talked with him, but following the Kubler-Ross stages of grieving, I think first is denial, then in uncertain order, anger, bargaining, something else and finally acceptance.
Oh well, whatever. Oh, and provided that my recollection of where my diary was up to when I left Canberra is correct, this is my 200th diary entry! Holy toast! I figure that each diary entry is about an A4 page long, so that is a very hefty book if I was to print them out and bind them, which is an idea I have been toying with I admit. Perhaps when I reach 250, that would be nice. Maybe that what I could make my singular Xmas present to everyone next year. *lol* Actually, at the rate I'm going, I figure I write at least 3 or 4 times a week, so by next year should be at about the 350 to 400 mark, wow! My life on paper eh? Maybe that's the novel I've always been looking for, kind of an easy cop-out I admit, but at least I've been able to stick with it. Imagine how multi-functional a copy of the last couple of years of my rather dull life could be! A very small and low coffee table, an ideal prop to keep the door open, a useful paper weight if a bit large, emergency fire-wood source and so many more! And if you order within the next 50 years, I'll throw in a free set of steak knives as well, the book makes an ideal holder for them too! *g*

11:10 pm – Ahhh… another week at home draws slowly to a close. Tomorrow is Wednesday, and I'll be packing and getting ready to head back on Thursday. My middle brother was supposed to head back to Sydney today with his girlfriend, but he misread the time the bus left and they missed it. Dad will drive them to Gundagai to try and find some spare seats on the bus when it pulls in, and if that's no good, then he'll take them to Campbelltown and they will catch a train in. I feel a bit bad about the distance Dad has to travel to drive us, which tempted me to take up Mum's offer of the green car to use. However, I figured with the exception of getting my hair done in Weetangera, that I wouldn't really use it, and it would be better off here. I am sure there are occasions where it would be nice to have a car, but parking permits and spaces would just be a hassle to deal with.
I showed Mum the interview from Quirk tonight, she handled it pretty well I think. Seemed to think it was well written and that I was taking it slow which was good by her. I think that her rate of approval is proportional to how slow I go. When progress equals zero, approval equals infinite. A joke I admit, but with many a ring of seeming truth.
*lol* I just thought up the 6th stage of the Kubler-Ross model, apathy. ;) I wonder whether that comes after acceptance, or can just short circuit the whole reaction process in general. *s*
I'll try ringing Susan and Jules to see what they are doing for New Years, tomorrow night. They should be back in Canberra to do the work thing I'm guessing.
I know this is becoming boring, but only 8 days left on the Roaccutane… this time next Wednesday I'll be polishing off the last tablet, so only one more shave while I'm still on the stuff. Pity the last box had to come around at this time of year, the days seems to flow like cold molasses. January certainly will be like shrugging off an old skin (literally *g*) and beginning anew. I wonder what the new year will bring? Last year was marked by an enormous amount of self-discovery, communication, reflection and action from the very start. What do I want to get out of 2000? Well, lets make a wish list perhaps?
Ideally I would like to be able to hand in my thesis by Xmas. This is possibly an ambitious target, and would mean taking about 3 years and 7 months to do it which is not unusual. It's just that I don't like writing up all that much. Well, on my personal front, the thing I absolutely want to get as much done as possible, is to get my damn beard burnt off. This is known in more polite circles as electrolysis. I want to get laser on my top lip and chin, so that the re-growth when it does come back is lighter and finer (accord to what I've read). The rest I will probably think about multi-needle galvanic, but the number of operators is severely limited as is the number of machines even more so. Given the cost and the fact that I may well have to move into the more expensive catered accommodation in the second semester which will reduce my amount of available funds, the full laser treatment seems like the main option. I am not certain of which technique e.g. Ruby laser, that they use, but the nearest multi-needle (the most economical galvanic method) is in Sydney, and that would suck funds utterly travelling there for a few hours every other week or so. At about $50 or $60 an hour, and looking at up to 250 hours, if pre-treatment with the laser kills a reasonable percentage and lightens what is left, then it may pay back later as a saving on galvanic therapy when that becomes more convenient and affordable.
What else? I'm not sure. I'd like to get an estrogen implant to make things easier on the liver and more convenient. That's not much of a challenge, and I have about a month and a half worth of pills left. Therefore, I just go and tell the Doc I'd like to go to an implant, wait a week if they need to order it, then go back in and get it stuck into me.
Hair is going along alright, it will be very nice by the next Glitter ball (my 3rd, good lord I'm decrepit *g*). I'm hoping to continue to see the changes to my body. More on the face then anywhere else, but just being smooth and having something approaching breasts is a big comfort though. Keeping in contact with my friends will be a difficult task which I guess I shall have to work at. With them all fleeing their separate ways, visiting is something I shall have to practice lest I am totally forgotten. A relationship? I don't think so. I will most likely be going over seas (fingers crossed big time) come 2001 (A Tranny Odyssey?) and it might be inconvenient to my plans of living and working overseas as a post-doc. Still, some company would be nice. I can already hear future diary entries with me bitching about how lonely and unloved I am. ;)
I don't know, I'm trying to wonder what ambitions or dreams I have which I want (realistically) to come true. Meeting other new young Tranny's in Canberra would be utterly fantastic. However, I am not expecting this to happen, though I will continue to nurture my dreams. Perhaps having someone as decisive and nice as Michelle sucked all the other naturally occurring Tranny vibes out of Canberra? *g*
For a long time, I have thought about the idea of a relationship with another Tranny, as to what it would be like. Obviously it would be highly dependant on the personalities involved but I think my possible preference for that sort of thing is finally there is a person who DOES understand and can sooth the ragged sharp edges inside the heart. As I've said on my page, there is a difference between someone who is understanding and someone who understands. I currently find little attraction to men (most men probably feel the same way about me *lol*) and it's hard to get through to many women, even lesbians and what does that leave… When you're in bed feeling crap because your psych is being obstinate and you're sore from electro and you've been hassled on the bus, it's one thing for someone to give you kind words, but it's another if you know that they've been there too and that it's not just meaningless platitudes. Oh well, that whole thing is pretty unlikely anyway. Tranny's themselves are rare enough, and there are so many bitter and/or unstable people in the community, that it's like pogo stick testing in a mine-field.
Hmmm… I've really out done myself tonight, this is a five page entry. I got woken at about 10:00 am this morning, so it may be an early snooze for me.
Oh, almost forgot, I rang Sarah today to wish her a happy Xmas and everything. She was her usual ebullient self which was a pleasure to hear and we had a long chat. She said she was going to ring Soba after we had finished talking to organize something. Soba is currently in Sydney at the moment, getting ready for NYE. She has her job interview and then big road trip coming up. Sarah is still working at ALS and just lazing around which is good, and apart from that not very much.
Ok, I think I'll leap between the sheets, I've got one day left to enjoy the ambience of home, and then who knows how long it will be?
It's weird, I just know that I will be bored once I get back to John's, but I do miss it. Not that I consider it a home, but it's a room which has grown and developed as I have. This room at home which I'm currently sitting in is the me from 10 or 15 or more years ago when I was trying to live up to the expectations society had put on me to be robust and masculine.
One thing my Mum has always said amuses me somewhat, and before I leave I'll have to let her know I feel. My average marks in the HSC she attributes to me "chasing girls in Years 11 and 12". It certainly could have appeared that way. Many of my folders were covered with women, the beautiful, the plain, hardly any clothes, lots of clothes. What she didn't know is that I didn't want to possess these women for sex, I wanted to be them. It was the double deception, look macho to the boys and parents and disguise the unacceptable real truth. Boarding school destroyed a lot in me, and at the same time it built up a usefully harsh edifice which was my societal exterior. It took me from 1993 till 1999 to break that construct, 6 years of time. Andrew T** told me that the time sent mourning or being bitter over a break up is equal to the length of time spent in the relationship. I spent 1987 till 1992 at Riverview, 6 years…
Ok, 6 pages, time for bed.