October 24, 2000
Today I found a women's bar in San Francisco, and hung out there writing my novel for several hours. It was full during Happy Hour. None of the women looked twice at me, probably because I was the oldest one there. They mostly looked to be in their 20's. But they apparently regarded me as just another lesbian. Then there was a power failure, and I couldn't write by candlelight, so I left.
I love being in the bay area! I haven't been depressed for a minute since I've been here. Granted it's only been 3 days, but still, I was depressed every day back in Duckburg. I've got to figure out a way to stay here.

October 28, 2000
Back in the old hometown area for the weekend. Negotiating with our workers comp insurance company to allow me stress disability is my latest concern. When I checked my mail last night I got a letter that the insurance company wants to delay my payments till mid-January, while they investigate my case. So what do I live on till then?? I have a couple weeks vacation, but then what?
I felt a hundred pounds lighter just being away from this conservative area. It was great. But I had to come home to play a halloween gig tonight, so here I am again, in the country, feeling like I did before. Yuck. At least the party tonight should be good. I was told it will be the party of the century.
Last night was fun - a halloween party at the pub, with some friends of mine playing blues. I didn't have a costume, but I took the opportunity to wear a minidress I'd never wear in public otherwise. It went well - guys asked me to dance, one guy kissed me a couple times, saying he doesn't care what anybody thinks. Another guy propositioned me at the end of the night - which I turned down of course - so apparently I pass just fine. If only the women treated me like that!!

October 29, 2000
It was a HELL of a party in Duckburg. At least from my perspective. Our music went over so well I was astounded. People said we were the perfect rock&roll band for the occasion, and junk like that.
It's so challenging for me because J___ is such an incredible guitarist, so precise, that I have to really pull out all the stops to play on the same stage with him. I seemed to hold my own.
One song was completely out there - the Mose Allison song Parchman Farm, which we've never played before with me singing it. So we started it kinda sedate and mellow, then J___ took a blistering solo that challenged me, so I flipped on the echo box, and played a slide solo with a long ascending buildup and climax that came off well, & made people start applauding spontaneously in the middle of it. Then between the 3rd and 4th verse, B___ our drummer started reciting and ad-libbing on that psychotic Jim Morrison-Doors song about the killer who flips out on his parents: "- and he WALKS ON DOWN THE HALL, etc.." Our drummer is one of the most outrageous singer-improvisors I've ever worked with. That song must have gone on for 15 or 20 minutes - completely mind- shattering. My voice is utterly shredded today.
Great buffet served, after the co-owner bought me dinner. 2 people came up to me and asked whether I was in costume as a guy. I said yes; - why not? I thought about dressing as Wonder Woman, but just couldn't go thru with it. If I was a bit more endowed, maybe. But singing all night, in my male voice, I just couldn't present that image. Even on halloween. The other guys didn't really wear costumes either. I felt conspicuous enough, with people probably wondering, who's this weird character with the makeup and boobs? But it was OK. I felt very much loved in this community last night, despite feeling like a fish in a tree.

November 1, 2000
Well, things are OK - could be better, could be worse. The good news is I'm off work. The bad news is Workers' Comp is challenging my stress disability leave. The good news is I have a place where I can stay in the San Fran area, a spare bedroom at a friend's condo. The bad news is I'm stuck here in the woods, helping my housemate who totaled his car. I'm trying to get my spare car running, while he uses my Toyota to drive to work. What's wrong here? I guess I'm just too generous and self-sacrificing of my own happiness for the benefit of others. Consequently I skipped halloween in San Francisco, once again. It would have been a total blast.
I just took the Datsun to the mechanic and walked, or rather trudged back home, about 2 miles, carrying about 30 pounds of purse, umbrella, sweaters and mud boots, cause it looked like rain. It occurred to me during that walk, that my level of happiness is low enough right now that I hardly care about the way I look. I shower, etc. in the morning, but the way the weather is and the mud scene here on this ranch is such that I typically wear levis and sneakers or boots. My nails are a joke, haven't done them in well over a week, and I have to keep them short on my left hand to play guitar. and why get up early to have time to do my makeup, when the only person who will see me is a sullen mechanic? and whoever saw me walking back home.
The Datsun dealer can have the part tomorrow, so it's a matter of catching the bus tomorrow to Ukiah, to pick the starter relay up at the dealership, and taking it to the mechanic. And sitting around the farm for another day, knowing that someone sweet is out there looking for me, but will never come here to look for me. I have to meet them halfway, or I'll be an achingly lonely TS divorcee forever. I'll probably end up with some guy, dammit. All of my experiences as a woman with a woman have been heartbreakingly platonic. But that wouldn't be fair to the guy, knowing that I prefer women. Oh well. We'll see what life holds in store.

November 5, 2000
The writing is coming along well. I finished up the second of the three parts of the story. Only the climax and sewing it together yet to go.
Had a good time today. I went to a free concert at the SF civic center. The 5 Blind Boys of Alabama performed! Wow, they amazed all these teenage kids who came to see Green Day. They have this singer who looks to be about 80 years old who can he sing like a 40-year old soul singer, and he got that crowd rockin! Everyone was anihilated.
The headliner, Green Day, was not my bag at all, so I left. Went to this women's club, the Lexington, for coffee, where I did a bunch more writing, then went to a blues jam at the Blue Lamp on Geary. I had the foresight to toss my electric guitar in the car, so I sat in, and kinda blew a bunch of people away with my playing. People are much more impressed by a chick guitarist than a guy, beyond question. Lots of compliments. The guy in charge invited me back anytime. That felt really nice. I'm still floating.
So how long can this keep up? As long as my cash holds up, I guess.

November 8, 2000
No one's called me sir, or he, or him since I arrived here. I cannot tell you how I feel right now. Its as good as I ever thought it might be. Well, I'm still lonely, but that's OK. I can handle it now. With a housemate with whom I have so much in common, I'm no longer so desperately lonely. And Angela's little doggie can sleep with me if I need to cuddle. If I'm dreaming, please don't wake me, OK?

November 14, 2000
So much has happened in this past week that I feel like it deserves a whole chapter. I'll try to keep this chronologically concise.
Last Friday, November 9th, I went to a meeting in Berkeley, arriving halfway through the meeting, during the break, and took the closest seat. They reopened the session with some announcements, some of which were delivered by a striking blonde named P__, about some upcoming workshops. I was impressed by her obvious clear-headedness as she was speaking, very purposeful and direct. After the meeting, we spoke in the foyer, and later on the front porch, saying it was nice to meet each other, etc., and she invited me to attend an upcoming workshop about meeting with legislators the next week. All weekend she was on my mind, and I couldn't figure out why.
The following Tuesday I went to a south bay support group meeting, and there she was again. We talked. I went to the legislative session the next night, did role-playing about how to confront legislators and had pizza, and afterwards I gave her a ride home. We drank tea in her kitchen and talked. I met one or two of her housemates, and it was very nice.
That Friday was the Berkeley group again. I gave her a ride home, and we listened to Billie Holiday till very very late. She said to call her anytime.
The next day I called her and invited her out dancing. She accepted! We decided that we'd figure out where we were going when I got there. In the afternoon I went to see a terrific new friend in the south bay who gave me 2 spare computers, which I plan to use in my writing. Then back to the east bay to see P__. We went to a blues club to dance, sat down at a table, had a beer. Suddenly we made eye contact, smiled at each other, and kissed. I melted. We've spent every minute together that we can ever since.
My life is better than it ever has been. The world has opened itself to me. To ME, not to the person I used to pretend to be, some imaginary guy named "Jack". The world is not kind to people who are so different, but now there are two of us to face this world together, and together I think we can have strength that neither of us had individually. In any case, we can just live in our own environment, and ignore the rest as much as we can.

December 13, 2000
I see it's been a month since I updated. My new girlfriend Patti and I are very tight. Life is very good right now. A friend offered me a room in her condo, and we get along terrifically. It's in a very quiet and seemingly safe neighborhood, where I can hear the train whistles somewhere in the distance, which is a sound I really love, having spent my earliest years within view of a train that went through every day. One of the earliest sounds I ever heard, probably. We're close to the freeway, grocery, buslines, so this is very convenient, and the condo is very nice.
It's such a far cry from the valley where I spent 21 years. I was up there yesterday, and yes, I have lots of dear friends up there, and yesterday I felt loved, and of course my daughter is there. She and I get along sooo well now, it's unbelievable. I love her so much, I gladly would die for her in an instant if it came to it. I'll even work on her car for her, as I did last night by flashlight.
But I can't live there. It's too oppressive for me now. I found myself running around without makeup or female appearances, and that's ok, but not good for me. I start walking like a guy again, getting uptight at the possibility of being read as a swish, and let's face it, I am basically very feminine in spirit, and very unhappy as a male. To be seen as a guy is OK, but not what I want. I love the knowledge that people see me as female, to the degree of men holding the door open for me and smiling, which means they unquestionably see me as a woman. So I have to wear a little makeup and shave without fail every morning - I can do that. Someday maybe I won't have to do even that.
Performing is great down here. I perform solo as Lili now, last month at the Stork Club in Oakland at an open mic. I only had 2 songs in mind, but after those 2, I went to sit down, and people wanted me to sing another one. So I went back up to more applause. I couldn't believe it - they actually asked for more! This is definitely a good thing. Whether I was read or not doesn't matter - onstage you aren't really yourself anyway, you're some kind of image, and regardless of whether people think I'm a biological woman, or they think I'm a passible tranny, either way, as long as they like my music, that's what counts. I'll never be successful like Bonnie Raitt or Rory Block, and if I'll make more money as a transsexual singer, then that's OK for now I guess. I love my new life down here. If I can just start making a little money, things will be great.

I just saw my doctor today, and my disability was extended for 3 more months. Yay! Maybe I can actually quit being stressed about paying the rent finally.
It's still weird for me, being in a metropolitan area for the first time in over 20 years. It is continuously urban from Richmond to past San Jose. I don't mind it though, this condo is big and quiet, and I hear train whistles at night, and for me that is a kind of soothing sound that I've missed for many years, without realizing it. As Merle once sang, "First thing I remember knowin' was a lonesome whistle blowin." I even hopped a couple of trains when I was in my 20's, but only rode them a relatively short distance each time. Once was in Cheyenne, Wyoming, in 1973. I was stuck hitchiking in the rain on the interstate, so I jumped a passing train. But it only went a couple miles to a trainyard and parked, so I ended up walking back to the freeway entrance, where I eventually caught a ride. It might have sat in that trainyard for weeks, and I didn't want to sit there to find out. I tried hard back then to be a freewheelin kind of guy, but it just wasn't me, obviously.
Patti and I are kinda in love, but she wants to keep her independence, while I'd love to be with her every day. So I guess we'll remain apart, except for weekends. That's OK with me, really. She's brilliant and charismatic and very sweet and sexy, but I don't need to dive into another living together situation - I'm just a recent bachelorette, and I really do need freedom, whether I'm aware of it all the time or not. I tend to forget how much I've gotten used to taking off for days whenever I feel like it, for however long I want to stay gone. I wouldn't be able to do that as freely with a partner.

January 20, 2001
Things are going tremendously well. My novel is nearing completion - I just need to develop the climax now. I've really been hitting it hard for the past month or so. I should be working on it right now, but I feel the need to catch up on personal business first, so I've been filing old paperwork like mad for the past couple of hours.

Patti and I were going to go out tonight to a blues club in Oakland, but neither of us were feeling very high energy, so we aren't. There is a GLBT talent circle tonight in Hayward, so maybe I'll make it to that.
I sat in last week at Bluesville, probably the top blues club in Oakland. I seemed to impress them VERY much. Jackie Payne said he'd like to record the ensemble of jammers that I sat in with. The singer played a Flying V and had an Albert King type of style, & I played slide, with the rest of the band, with Nicky Otis on drums. It was good. Then he started 40 Days and 40 Nights, which gave me a chance to show off my Muddy Waters telecaster slide chops. Jackie and Nicky both asked me for my CARD afterwards, so I gave them my phone number. Jackie said he'd call me. Last weekend I also played music with Ashley, a terrific singer, guitarist and songwriter. So something good may come out of that as well.

February 10, 2001
I had my last massive electrolysis session two days ago. Somehow my face got a little infected, probably from the Ace icepack I put on it, without sterilizing it first. It's going to be OK, just little whiteheads all over my lower face. So I'm not going out, and I'm trying to keep it clean. Yuck.
I received a phone call invitation to join a yet-to-be-formed all-female band yesterday. I mean actually female, not transgendered female - I don't think they know I'm TS. I stalled off, saying I have the flu, actually because my face is a mess and I can't wear makeup, therefore wouldn't pass. I received a call yesterday from a friend Ashley, who's a recording engineer-producer, who wants me to play some slide guitar on some tracks. I told her sure, but when she found out I'd just had marathon electrolysis, she said let's do it later. OK by me, I don't really want anyone to see me.
All this sounds great on paper, but the reality is that I haven't yet received, or been actually offered a dime for my playing since I moved to the bay area. But I can't complain.

February 9, 2001
Recovering from three hours of electrology. Sometimes I think I must be insane to be doing all this, not to mention all the money it costs - this session was over $400, with the anesthesia. But I feel so lousy when I'm out looking like a guy, and feel so great when I think of myself as a girl, that there's no way I can do anything different. Yesterday I went to the pharmacy, with my face swollen, without makeup, then went for a beer afterwards, and it almost made me nauseous being out as a "androgeneous" in appearance. Isn't that weird? I'm so sad at times, because I think about how it used to be when I was a guy in love with a woman, and like now I have tears welling up because I know it will never ever be that way again. Even if I pretended to be a guy, I'd have to be honest with a woman about who and what I am, so it wouldn't work. I KNOW from experience it wouldn't work. I met two women this week who used to be male, and they're so convincingly natural that I couldn't really believe they were TS. And I think I could be that way, with time, but then I think, Do I really want to be permanently female? Well, it's better than being male, except for that one thing - that I still love women. The feeling that no woman will ever look at me as a man again sometimes bothers me. Why do I torment myself this way?

February 11, 2001
Last night I was on my way to Berkeley on I-880, cruising at about 60 or 65 in the fast lane, when WHAM!!! I was hit by behind, whipping my neck back and knocking stuff off my dash, and knocking my front flasher loose. I stopped, got out, saw the driver speeding away, and managed to get their license number. My rear bumper was completely folded against my rear door. So I called the CHP, reported it, and they said if I didn't see the driver, and couldn't identify him or her, he wouldn't go to jail. But today I notice a distinct impression left on my bumper of a Ford logo, so I may have his ass in court soon. I am SOO pissed off - I can't open my rear hatch at all, and now my car is a total wreck visually. GRRR. At least my neck isn't bothering me - yet. But things could be much worse.

February 18, 2001
I had an interesting weekend, attended a wedding/committment servicee for a TS acquaintance and her fiance. Patti conducted the ceremony, being ordained. She's pagan really, but the couple had some scripture reading thrown in. It was nice.
This morning Patti told me I still have some unfinished business to deal with - referring to the newspaper lawsuit she thinks I should pursue. But I have no interest in dealing with that crap. I can't take it. Then I dropped her off at her destination, and went for coffee, nearly nodding off over my cup. I realized that it was almost 11, and I'd always wanted to attend a Black gospel church service - to hear the music mostly. So I started driving around to find an 11 AM service - completely spur of the moment, you understand. Well I found a multi-ethnic Methodist church, so I thought I'd check it out. Well the music was the typical Methodist hymnal stuff I grew up with. At the end of the first hymn, the reverend asked if there were any visitors, and the woman at the door who'd welcomed me indicated that I should cop to it, so I raised my hand meekly. "Wonderful! What's your name and where are you from?" I told them my name and said Mendocino County, and everyone smiled welcomingly. I was a bit mortified, as all I had to wear was this very low-cut bodyshirt - although my skirt was conservative enough, I still felt like the proverbial whore in church.
Then after a couple minutes, they gave the cue for everyone to stand up and circulate around and wish everyone peace and shake their hands, so I got to do that with every adult in the place - about 40 or so. Some welcomed me, a couple of women hugged me, and I indeed felt very welcome, even though I was one of maybe 2 caucasians in the congregation, and probably the only transsexual, although they didn't seem to notice that.
The rest of the service was fairly routine, but the sermon was all about forgiveness and letting go of hatred. It hit me very hard, and I found myself asking The Power to be clensed of my hatred, and the tears flowed freely from my eyes. One beautiful choir member smiled very sweetly at me at that point, and later gave me a big hug after the service. The congregation seemed filled with so much love I was floored. Of course people are people, and the way people act in church is no reflection on their true personalities, but if I find myself leaving Patti's house on Sunday morning in the near future, I will gladly go back to visit this church, though I've never been particularly religious.

March 19, 2001
Yesterday I went to an AMAZING African American Baptist church service. Of course at one point us visitors had to stand up, give our names and say what brought us here. I just said I was in the neighborhood. The service was great! The singers were awesome, with a male soloist who sang in the manner of Buddy Guy. The preacher did the whole sermon gasping for breath, while the congregation was yelling things like Amen! Yes he was! and I love you Jesus! One guy was completely caught up in the Spirit, was yelling thru the whole and whooped WOOOO, like Little Richard, jumping up and down, swinging his fists in the air. It was incredible. At one point in the sermon, when we were supposed to touch someone, this elderly woman sitting behind me put her hand on my shoulder and I put my hand on hers. Then afterwards we all held hands, and in the end everyone hugged everyone. Everyone was so nice, and it was really a wonderful service, so much more lively than those painfully boring Methodist services my parents had to drag me to when I was a kid. I definitely will go back.
Saturday was Patti's birthday, and we celebrated all day, starting at 2:50 AM, the hour of her birth, with a beautiful ritual she created, with her housemates, her dog Ipida and me, in the backyard. Then later she and I went to find something special, got lots of music, had dinner, and went for drinks with a couple of her friends we bumped into. It was a great day, and we realized again that we are still in love.
Last Saturday Patti held one of her GenderArt events, featuring writings, art and performance by transgender individuals. This time it featured two female-to-male writers reading from their stories, poetry and two movement pieces by Patti, original music and singing by another transwoman, and my music. I sang Women Be Wise, I Ain't Got Nothin But the Blues, and my original song, Prescription For The Blues. Everyone was well received by the enthusiastic audience.

March 30, 2001
The past week has been fairly odd. Patti's birthday was magnificent. We felt so united, and I made her a card with a watercolor that showed the two of us as one.
On Tuesday, we had plans to get together in the evening, but one of my very best friends whom I hadn't seen for awhile needed a ride to the airport first thing in the morning. So I called Patti, left a message that I couldn't come, and the next morning I took my friend to the airport first thing in the morning. Unfortunately, I underestimated the seriousness of breaking a date with my lover. It caused us both tremendous anguish, and I don't know how we stand exactly. I'm bummed, and lonely.
On the other side of the coin, I just won a national broadcasting award, for a production piece I engineered over a year ago. I didn't even know it had been entered in competition, until I received the certificate in the mail, with my name and those of two other staff members of the radio station who co-produced the spot.
Then immediately after opening that envelope, I received word from the workers' compensation insurance company, that after a four hour psychological exam, they determined that my claim of on-the-job stress due to the newspaper harassment and ridicule of my personal changes was not valid. On what grounds, it did not say. Maybe they'll claim that the editor was harassing me for personal reasons of intolerance, rather than because I worked at the radio station he loathes so much. I don't know. But it was a major disappointment to me, and it implies that my integrity is questionable. That hurts.

April 8, 2001
I finished my book! Yes, this fifteen-year project is complete, except for the typing. So far it exists only in spiral notebook form. Now if I can only finish it and start to submit it to publishers before I go broke, I'll rest easy as I start pounding the pavement.

April 13, 2001
The following is a letter I wrote to a Transgender group, regarding criticism of trans activists:

I have to come to the defense of activists. My girlfriend is a very strong one, yet she never raises her voice or acts crazy. She and Jameson Green and some others just finished several weeks of meeting with the Berkeley police department to help end routine police harrassment of TG folks. It was in response to the Oakland police beating of a young TG woman which put her in the hospital. If you don't think progress in this direction has had any effect, please read Stone Butch Blues, which describes the pre-Stonewall routines in New York of busting gay bars and raping transpeople, both male and female. Some people don't exactly pass, and for them life is a daily challenge. Just going outside seems almost impossible sometimes. My girlfriend and I consider each other beautiful; unfortunately much of the world might not agree. But we need to be able to work at steady jobs to keep roofs over our heads. As a person whose lifelihood ended due to transsexual discrimination, I'm speaking from experience. So I thank anyone who has made it illegal, at least on paper, to discriminate against anyone for reasons of gender perception in California.

Lili

April 21, 2001
Today three of us went to a TG potluck, and I talked to a post-op friend who told me about her post-surgery blues. I asked what went wrong, and she said her first thought was that she'd made a big mistake by having the surgery - despite having thought beforehand that she would commit suicide if she didn't. It seems that she spent some time afterwards grieving for the loss of her maleness. It struck me that maybe that is what I need to face - the impending loss of the last of my male self, through sex reassignment.
Last week I ran across an old video of my old band, and I somehow miss that guy Jack. He(?) was a really nice dude. I do however, think I'm a nicer woman than he was a nice guy.

April 23, 2001
I just got one of those happiness pangs, thinking "I am Lili." It feels so good to say that. Patti and I had a little discussion about Jack yesterday, and I have been having trouble forgetting about him, but I would never want to go back. Forget that. I am Lili. It makes me feel very alive and refreshed to remind myself of that. I love my new life.

May 2, 2001
I had 2 odd dreams last night. The first was that I was having very invigorating sex with a woman who used to live across the street from us when we were kids. She was my best friend till I was about seven. But I never spoke to her after elementary school.
So we were like on the floor going at it, I was a guy, and it was very nice. Her mom walked in on us, and was apologetic about it. It seems we had been driving cross country, and stopped there in Iowa to rest, and bum some money from her parents.
The next dream was at summer camp; it was like scout camp, only it was for radio station people. I was determined I was going to go off the 30-foot diving board in the lake. I was self-consciously taking off my clothes down to my swimming trunks, but I woke up before I actually walked out on the beach topless. So I didn't go off the board.
It might seem that I'm wrestling with the idea of SRS in my sleep, weighing the benefits of keeping my maleness, represented by the hetero sex dream, versus the reassignment surgery, represented by the high diving board.
I went back to sleep and had another dream about having lost track of my ex-wife in San Francisco. I was backtracking, freaking out, unable to see clearly without my contacts, and continually inadvertantly speaking in my male voice. I bumped into a former co-worker, Nicole, and I was so upset that she ditched me without asking me what was wrong. While waiting for a light, a circus train went past, full of beautiful circus women in skimpy costumes. I wanted to join their circus. I never found Wendy.
I ended up sleeping about thirteen hours last night. I feel like my dreams were trying to tell me something. Should I let go of my former life and join the circus? In many ways, I already have.

My friends and me at the San Francisco Pride Parade

May 8, 2001
Today I went to a new clinic, where they didn't know me. The nurse weighed me, asked my height, and I said five-eleven, thinking that my height was a red flag as to my gender status. Then she asked me are you allergic to any medications, etc. Then she asked me, "WHEN WAS YOUR LAST PERIOD?"
I hesitated, and said, I don't have periods. Then she asked, when did you stop having them? I told her, I've never had periods. She asked, No pregnancies or anything? I said no.
Then the doctor came in, looked at my chart, and asked, what do you take spironolactone for? I said, it helps the processing of the premarin. He asked, "And you take premarin for menopause?" Finally I had to cop to it, and said I was born male. The doctor just said, Oh, Okay, as if I had told him I was left handed or something equally insignificant. The doctor and nurse had no idea that I was ever anything other than a normal female. I was very happy that I've reached the point, when I can even have a question and answer session with two medical people, and they have no idea that I'm transsexual.

Lili performing at Gender Art, June 9, 2001

July 5, 2001
Yesterday was FUN. My housemate and I went to a barbecue at a club in Hayward for the 4th of July, hung out with some friends, shot pool and played darts. My pool playing was terrible. Pistachio went along, and she made lots of friends. Afterwards we came home, then the fireworks outside started. A family down the street was shooting some off, and we watched them for awhile, till I got the idea to go up on the roof, as others were shooting off fireworks that we couldn't see from the deck.
Watching fireworks from the roof of the condo was GREAT. They were everywhere, visible from the next block to miles away. It seemed like being in the middle of the seige of Vicksburg.
I've been feeling so good lately it's amazing. My life has come around again. I'm still editing my novel, but am ready to start searching for a publisher. July 14, 2001
Things are really going great. I have Pistachio living with me now, and she is so sweet, well-mannered and civilized that I can hardly believe she's the same dog who used to chase deer in the hills around the rural valley.

Pistachio