June 28

Last night at the theatre whist cleaning up I came across a new tube of lipstick left behind at the theatre. Rather than let it get tossed I added it to my cosmetic box here at home… love the shade… for me it is the color of my lips… for a woman of ebony skin it may have been a pinkish shade… all how you look at it I suppose.

After the sleep I got up in a mixed state and just got dressed as if I was going out for a night on the town… I like to color coordinate my clothes. It got too hot for the outfit so I cut back to my standard… but geeze… I would of preferred to keep the ‘gray mist’ hose on… for some reason the panties fit better tonight. I think it would be neat if God is slowly upping the amount of estrogen in my body. I used to pray every night to be more of a woman than I was before. Some of that is happening, but has nothing to do with hormones… every day brings longer hair… and today I noticed how mine was getting. Almost to braid length… almost. Oh well… too tired to continue… more later.

June 29

As always it seems, my solution is to do it all. So that’s why I’m getting off this machine and getting more spiffy… I’m in a tiffy because there is no hot water… so no shaving, cosmetics, and the like. Feel like a tiger who’s tail is tied to a tree… want to do so much… going no where… going to try, however!

Me again… later. Wish I could jump through this time to the next… travel in the future till the time when I did not feel so restless… how about when I’m a fully transitioned nu-woman… whew. Seems that with new plateaus come new frustrations… but I would rather have these than those of my past… not knowing. Even with the “I’m doing everything I can do” respite… I still want more. It’s the anger of not having hot water to shave my face of the beard-stubble I am growing to detest… ditto for the leg hairs which I choose to wear still… that remind me of how male I am biologically. All old stuff… but the frustration is there. Hmm.

I have a few reserve ideas… one of them is masturbation… which I am leery of since I don’t want to Pavlov women’s clothes with that… there was a time when I used to think that I was TV in some ways… but at some point I realized that my sexual urges were from imagining I was a woman… and by myself as a woman, or with a man as a woman… my body was a woman’s body… and that gets me off… sorry for the crude language. Another option is to break out my AutoCAD 14 manual, which I’ve been trying to learn off-and-on… the instructions are so boring they will force me into a hypnotic trance of sorts… numb me all over. The 3rd option is to play Baulder’s Gate, which was a game I had fun with up until a few days ago… all of a sudden I’ve just realized how transient some of the things I do is… and that makes me want more.

I don’t know too many other folks who tackle as much as I do… I’m sure there is more. Relaxation is something I have to make myself do… I feel like I’m a top sometimes… never know what is going to slow me down. A few days ago I drew a 3 year map of my plans, which culminate in “Special Project K”… my own secret word for my transition plans. Perhaps I am rushing to get through the 3 years, and everything else does not seem worth doing? I don’t know. For what ever reason, I can’t seem to just sit in front of the TV anymore. Seems like I wake up, work, exercise, eat, ‘cross-dress’, then sleep… no slow time. Hmm.

I want more. I guess I can’t phrase it or express it in any less terms. And it’s not something I can really say to any one… it would achieve little. My family quietly accepts my plans for transition… but I am not really doing anything they can see right now. Although, today for the first time I was able to braid some hairs with some success. Grrr. Mission Control… need instructions… heh. Well… going to go do something… anything to get me not so up tight. I don’t know what.

Last Day o’ June

Oh it’s the last day of June… I’m alone in my room… whoooo. I tilt my head and look at the cup of coffee… in the stylish “Grad Nite 1990” mug… 9 freak’n years old that mug is. Arg… I’m in a strange mood today. All I can sing is Garret Morris’ “Gonna get me shotgun and kill all the whities I see…” from SNL many moons ago. I remember that episode because Francis Ford Copalla hosted. Blah. I’m not on a hate driven rampage… I’m just in a goofy mood. I just got done working on my voice a bit… found out I was missing some pages, so I went on-line to track them down. Turns out that Melanie Anne (who one day I hope to meet) recorded some audio tapes whist she was transitioning. It was strange to hear “the voice of Dave” on those tapes… it is a bit of a boost however, at least for my own pursuits to conquer the great abyss of my own voice box.

Whist in this momentary lapse, I just want to do something. I have not figured out what it would be… it’s not death… I don’t feel like killing myself… well, not 100% There’s a wee bit that says “you’ll never break the voice barrier!”… feel like it’s Mickey in my corner… “Come on Rock! You can do it…” Adrian!!! Adrian.. whew. Sly Stallone in drag… what an image. But seriously folks… what is a 27 pre-pre-op to do? Cut the whining crap, I know. Part of me feels like a Gangster… circa Trek classic or the Rocketeer… Eddie Valentine pacing back and forth “yah… look dahl… we’s getten offly tired of hearing your whinnnin… capish? Rocko, Vinnie… take the lady out back and break her knee caps sho she really gots something ta whine about, kay?”

I mean please! I know I’m doing good… but I want more! Feel like Beruca Salt from Willy Wonka… “But I want it noooooooow!” Yikes… shut the fuck up! Okay… I’m slipping into the Jerky Boys now. *ahem* No… no I’m not. Arg! I’m clenching my hands to the skies… “why….why?” Geeze… am I without a life or what. My Mom sent me email… seems she is doing good… that’s good. Sometimes I wonder if I push too much… expect too much. It’s like I want to share things with my folks… that’s reasonable, when people are not doing okay. You’d go up to a friend who asked and level with them, right? I guess I don’t have that option… and what good would it do?

Dale Carnegie said that the key is to keep busy. Whew! I don’t know what to add to my stack jack. I am probably the only cat trying to learn AutoCAD 14 and how to play the Bag Pipes… meanwhile brushing up on her Guitar and Clarinet… when all I want to do is sound like a woman when I talk… and look like one. Isn’t that crazy? And I’m getting repulsed by my own whinny-ness… “so stop whining” is the response. But whining is a release… “so then whine”… hmmm. No solutions. I bought a computerized chess board. I don’t know how to play chess… but I’m going to learn. Hmm. I cook, I clean… I exercise… I am craving cock right now… want to blow a guy… whew, where did that come from? Yikes!

I guess I should take stock of things. If all goes well… I’m going to be a guitar-play’n, clarinet, bag-pip’n mama who can draft, play chess, put’s out, and cook tasty treats. Guess that’s a good combination for a husband. Hmm…. I am humbled. Whew. Well… my solution so far is to keep on trucking. I have my quiet moments, for sure.

Oh well. I wanted to unload a bit and I can feel it happening… the release. Slowly… getting slower. I had the ability to come home early from work and work on my voice. I bought a micro-cassette recorder so I could hear me talk. Sort of like a science project… starting one. I have the tools… and the time, it is merely a matter of going through the motions and trying. Sometimes I feel like I’m on a tread-mill of sorts… just spinning the wheels waiting for time to pass… everything in my control says “3 years”… fuck. I don’t like that.

Of course… the alternative is to drop out of school, get a job, and do electrolysis if I can afford it. It’s a choice. I don’t feel trapped here… it is my choice to pursue my Masters. It’s to my advantage to up my earning potential to do so… but it sure does suck sometimes. Blah. Old news… nothing new I suppose.

Me again… later. Well… chess computer got me 3 times in a row… our last match took a bit, so maybe I am getting better? One of the things I did whist at the library was get a book about hair braiding… my hair is almost long enough in the back for a good braid. I got two little ones… but nothing major. Still… quite an achievement. I was crying a little while ago… I thought for a moment that if I could convince myself how serious I was, somehow the little endocrine system would block testosterone and get my body in gear. No major changes yet. I practiced some voice training for a bit… at some avail. I have a feeling that in the end I’m going to have my current voice… perhaps just a wee bit softer. To be honest, I like my voice. I dunno… after hearing Dave/Melanie Anne earlier… well, to achieve the “female” voice… it has roots in the male one… if you can get what I’m saying… hmm. There’s a basic quality in both voices… they are the same. But still… all a matter of training, learning, etc… I hope.

You know, if I can be serious for a moment… and you know I can be very vocal and outspoken… guess that’s where you’re dealing with the hard-core, basic me. But I really like the way I am looking… no outside help there. But, in all honesty, in the last year I have lost about 25 pounds… and let my hair grow out. I’m still about 55 pounds shy of the SRS 200 limit… but if I can look back at a comparison… well… I have to say I am going in the right direction… and that is far better than not knowing what I want to do.

I think most TS would agree that voice can be a big stepping block. I sincerely hope that over my remaining time left on this planet that I will be able to feminize my voice a bit… but only if that is a way of expressing myself.

My voice box is really hurting right now… which I hope means all the rigmarole I went through earlier loosened things up a bit… or whatever needs to happen. Wanting something you have little control over to happen… doing what you can about something you have little control over to happen, and what actually occurs can be three totally different things. In all fairness to myself, I have to give myself credit for trying.

But… as you may tell… well, my life is going okay outside of the home, but I am really getting mentally uncomfortable here… and I don’t know what to do. I am trying, however… very hard. Every solution outside of my home requires money of some sorts. I could try to see a therapist of sorts… but I’ve done that in the past… hmm. I feel I have to express my frustrations… guess that’s why I’m back here at the computer.

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