Umm.. yea.. hi?

So I really forgot about this blog until someone at work mentioned it, and felt the need to update it.

Address:

Since the last blog, I have moved back home with the parents in Virginia.

School:

I did not graduate from NYU. I am on a leave of absence. I am probably never going back because I feel like I was treated unkindly. I still have bills from them.

Work:

I got laid off of my job at TKTS a week before I moved. I have returned to my old job/home at Busch Gardens. I am the Vending Unit Supervisor. I kinda love it.

Love life:

Still single and crushing.

That is all.

I work at TKTS

So today was my first day back at work post-surgery. I snagged someone's Sunday morning shift on a whim and figured that since I was able to walk the city yesterday, I should be good enough for a five hour shift It was kind of a good Sunday shift because it was half "I've never seen a Broadway show" and half "I've seen just about every Broadway show". There were some sprinkles of "what's the best show on Broadway" and "I want something funny."

Funny how a week away from work is exactly the same as the week I left. Fun note that I was wearing my "Hooray for Boobies" shirt and probably helped us sell at least five of them at the theater.

Jamba Juice still rocks

Seacrest out!

Sometimes.. All Times.. Mom Knows Best

Today was an interesting day. I feel as if medical facilities should not be closed during the holidays because that's when me and the fam. tend to get the most sick. That and during hurricanes. While I was out and about the city buying up bookstores and reconnecting with old friends, my mom texted me to call her when I got home. Long story short, she mentioned that in my journey of life in the past two years I've made it clear to some, but not all, who I was, am, and want to be. But that during that journey, I've not always included my family. Mostly, my facebook friends have been reaping the benefits of knowing about why I decided to transition and all the different medical protocols I've gone through.

I feel like the family is the hardest entity for me to discuss gender stuff with, but I have a family reunion coming up in about two months and have to really start thinking about what that'll look like as far as me explaining things to everyone. I think it's hardest because what defines "me" goes beyond my presentation, but it just happens to be the focus of a lot of my energies at the time. By July, I could be worried about mosquito bites and sunburns.

It also made me think about why I started this blog. Mostly, I'm a fan of Autostraddle (This Girl Called Epic Win) and wanted to play off of her writings (which are awesome). Mostly, I wanted to be able to share my experiences as a person in NYC. It was going to have a theme of whatever I wanted to talk about. Maybe I'd post once. Maybe a dozen times. I knew I would end up talking about my gender and theater because that's been giving me the most satisfaction over the past few months. Also, if you know my friends, that's all we talk about in person.

Don't really have much else to say.

K

Today's Discovery About Not Having Boobs

I can feel my heart through my chest really easily without the barrier of boobs. People in public may think I'm about to have a heart attack or pledge allegiance due to the number of times I've grabbed where my left boob would've been just to feel that awesome heartbeat.

Also, I feel a bit like a pornstar with how often I've flashed my chest online so peeps can see. There's no point in my showing the nipples because they're going to change the most over the next month.

And for those keeping track of the medications I'm on:

I'm taking oxycodone which is for general pain. I only have one pill left so I'm trying to save it for a special occasion. I'm also on a generic form of valium, which is a muscle relaxer. I take this three times a day, but mostly I find it most helpful after I've been using my arms and chest for awhile and then just need to chill out and let them recover from all the movement. I'm also on this nausea reliever that has too long of a name because I used to get a lot of morning sickness. I didn't use it this morning because I found that actually eating breakfast may be the more holistic care package. I'm also taking one of those chewable multivitamins that taste like Starburst that give me my needed Vitamin D, C, E, and Zinc amongst others, which will help my healing time.

Now, the nipples require their own special care regimen, but it's actually pretty simple. I'm now allowed to shower with my back to the water so I just give them a light soap and water treatment with a rinse. Once I'm out of the shower then I treat them with some bactin (?), which is an antibacterial that looks like petroleoum jelly. Then I put this yellow sticky flypaper lookalike thing over each nipple and seal them up with an ouchless bandage. I also put these bandages around my drains so that if any leaks happen it doesn't go onto my clothes.

I'm also able to cook and dress myself, but I'm supposed to get my drains out by Tuesday which means that it'll be a bajillion times easier to get dressed and then maybe I can tackle some of this laundry that has pilled up over the past three weeks.

Until next time stalkers ;)
K

Post-Surgery Day One

Hey everyone!

I heard some folks actually read this thing, so I figure I'd update it as soon as I took my first nap from home. I am officially boob-less and walking around the house with my shirt off. I still have dressings on and drains to collect nastiness for at least a week.

To describe the surgery, I'd have to actually remember it. I arrived at the hospital around 6a dehydrated and craving food, which no one would give me. I was in high spirits otherwise. I met everyone on my surgical team and my anesthesia team. The operating room was cold, but I was only conscious in there until they wrapped me in warm blankets and gave me relaxing drugs. I didn't wake up until I was in the recovery room where I craved popsicles and pain killers. I maybe only had about 30 seconds of nausea which came from a combination of feeling pain across my chest and needing to potty (I just couldn't do the bedpan thing). Even though I was out of surgery by one p.m. I didn't get to my room until around 6pm. I had an awesome view of the FDR and the Chrysler building. TV had become free since a week prior, and I had to take deep breaths from this machine to clear the drugs from my lungs. I have to say that I had an awesome care team and really didn't feel too much pain afterwards, or even now. Apparently it varies for everyone. I got to see my chest for a brief moment this morning and I think it looks awesome. I am going to hopefully have visiting nurses from Tuesday through Friday to help care for the dressings, drains, and whatever else they can help with.

Right now, I'm just trying to take it easy and rest when I can. It's kinda hard when there are so many good movies on, but I have all my alarms set for my meds. I'm currently on an antibiotic, Valium, and Perocet. So far Valium has been the most help because I've been getting random muscle spasms, but I'm trying not to rely too much on the pain meds since I'm pretty tolerant without them.

Until next time folks!

K

It's Mah Birthday

I'm 24. Carry on.

Spinning By

This weekend is almost to an end. I haven't gotten any homework done, which hopefully will be remedied by bedtime. I need to do laundry, but honestly couldn't see myself out of the house. I suspect that tomorrow the internship is going to be so lame. I'm applying to jobs now with the help of my friends and therapist who tell me not to be afraid of my availability. I'm worried that I'll have to move out of New York City without being able to accomplish all that I wanted. I'm afraid of going back to school to study theater. I'm afraid of being a fuck up.

Hello Weekend

I suspect this weekend will go by fast. I have conflicting plans for Saturday, and I'm hoping to get some work done. I have tickets to a play at my internship at 2, dance class at 330, American Idiot lotto at 6, queer party at 9. Oh, and I have to stop at the post office for a "small box that'll make [me] happy". Thank God for strong black mothers.

There's been a shyt load of new developments at my school in terms of my graduation, but I'll keep that mum for now. Either way, May is going to be an awesome month. I'm getting my top surgery done on May 21st, and may do a separate blog about my experiences with it. So far, there haven't been too many hitches in my plan to transition, and I think the greatest advice I've either gotten from a therapist or my fellow transmen. I would make that the focus of this blog, but that focus won't keep for very long.

I just wonder how life tends to throw curveballs, and how many times I'll have to swing before I get on base. Too much analogy. Time for a smoke.

Almost 4/6

So I'm up late because I have this paper due tomorrow, & I can't clear my mind enough to sit down and write it. I have the urge to reach for that bottle of No-Doze which holds my paper-writing pills, but I'm sure I'll crash so hard I won't make it to school in the morning. I'm worried my professor in my first class will take me aside for missing more than three classes. Last week, I was about to walk out the door when I had the urge to smoke pot. I ended up coming into school about three hours behind schedule, but significantly less anxious.

One of the topics to be discussed in therapy this week is my newly formed enjoyment of pot. I smoked for the first time in February and managed to stay away from it until about a week ago. Life started taking a turn for the worst and I was worried I'd end up in the hospital. They expect us to own up to these thoughts of living in a world of nothing, but I'm too smart to let that part show all the time.

I guess it comes from knowing the system from the inside out. You tell someone you've been feeling low for more than two weeks, and they think you want to harm yourself. NYU was listed as #24 of stressful colleges due to our high rates of student suicide (the favorite "jump spot" is the school's library. From the 10th floor, the tiles look like spikes). They offer us free counseling of at least ten sessions before we are referred out for ongoing treatment of the non-free kind. I enjoyed my six months with my therapist that ended around this time last year, but I never did follow-up for counseling after. I figured, summer will come, and the world will get better for me. It did until about two weeks ago. I'm still not sure if I'm going to graduate on time (much of that depends on Wednesday's activities), or where I'm going to be in the fall.

If anything, it reminds me of when I was little and couldn't imagine my life beyond age 22. Maybe it was my love of that particular number, but by 12, the majority of my grandparents had died from medical reasons. I was moving all the time and suffering the lost of friends. Every time I thought past college, my mind would go blank, no, dark. It's like living in a world of darkness where no matter how many steps you take, you will remain in the dark. On my 22nd birthday, I realized I wouldn't die. As I approach my 24th birthday, I'm honestly not sure.

Now, the problem with blogging all this is that some of my friends, being social workers, may freak out and think I may actually kill myself. At this time, I'm not worried about it, and I hope no one else is either. Life is a series of ebbs and flows, and right now I need to be in the flow. There's no quick and easy fixes for a clouded mind, and no one can truly be happy all the time.

On another note, I've realized that smoking pot unlocks my creative side. I used to be into writing long stories, but weed turns me into a poet. I'm not sure if the stuff I write is any good, but that's the beauty of being high: you just don't give a fuck. Maybe some day my brain will be less fragmented with the smoking and I can get back to longer pieces. Til then, this is what I'll close with:

-------

Pot makes your heart slow down and your brain speed up.

I’m spending more time in my head, not because I want to, but because the world is not responding.

I speak loudly, but no one hears the silent cries of eyes that are too itchy to open wide. The pollen is killing me, and my Mac is warming my lap.

Thermal snuggles get rejected. hearts are unprotected as we go into the night that becomes morning. mourning becomes morning, and the sun remind us that no matter how slow we are moving the world is moving faster.

it keeps on turning until we fall unbalanced. as soon as reality comes back, we flee to the pipe which keeps us ungrounded.

------

!K

An original poem, by Kryst

Pot is God's gift to us because he loved making folks numb in pain and lifted from stress-filled days of nonsense from folks won aren't high. Munchies like mofos; lost cuz we so fly. Dogs eat Cats cuz pussies R tasti like cakes. Green is for money, springtime, and bud. Sending your mouth into a frenzy of not tasting anything, just everyone.

Inappropriate Comments Made at American Idiot

I was having a stressful day, and went to see American Idiot. It was kind of like an episode of "Whose Line is it Anyway?" The following exchanges ensued:

"If you don't know who Maisey is, you need to get the fuck out."

"It sucks when a beautiful gay has unfortunate-looking friends."

"Oh look, a skunk mullet."

"This show is filled with 15 year-old Hot Topic models."

"Umm, why are we holding the curtain for the creative team? It's a 90-minute show. Don't these kids have school in the morning?"

"Why are you bringing your six year-old here? There's heroin on stage! And you wonder why they come and see me in ten years because you fucked them up!"

"If anyone sings along, they will die."

"I'm glad you two have manners and know how to act in a theater."

"That choreography was so teenage angst."

"I hate when people abuse my young privilege."

"Oh my God, you can tell who is a musical theater fan and who is a Green Day fan so clearly. Good thing MT kids won the lottery four to one."

"Oh my God! It's Snooki!"

JP: "Oh my God! It's Billy Elliot! Me: "(dies laughing) OMG JP. That's so October 31st!"

I'm sure there was more, but I can only remember so much.

Cheers,

-K

Feb 21, 2010

I'm waiting on lunch, which today is tacos and nachos. I'm watching Still Black: A Portrait of Black Transmen in my living room. I wanted to watch it with friends last night, but Robin Williams was on and we had a case of the Phat Kid and my room needed to be cleaned. As I'm watching this film and transman after transman tells their story, I'm wondering about my own journey.

I've had to tell my story so many times that I've made it linear. I'm not going to go into here, but today is also my 11 months on T, week-wise. On the 26th, calendar-wise, it'll be 11 months. It's been a wild ride. Physically, I think there isn't much left for my medication to handle. As I sit here eating a shrimp taco, I realize that my body can only change if I want it to. If I stop shooting T, most things will return to normal. Having my ex visit me this weekend put a lot of things in perspective. She doesn't think I've "found" myself yet, and wishes I would. I'm thinking of moving to DC to work and leaving NYC for awhile. Moving to certain cities has been vetoed by my friends, but I think DC would be a nice change. Things are still expensive, but I'll be able to drive again and meet people who aren't always busy.

Thoughts are running away. Will write later.

Feb 14, 2010

Today has been pretty productive, if I may say. I've managed to unpack three boxes worth of stuff and turn my two windows into bookshelves. I've gone from a full-sized futon to a twin to allow space to move without tripping over things. All except one of my valentine's received their present (or some version of it), and I know my blackberry is being held hostage by the United States Post Office one train station away until Tuesday.

In honor of this greeting card holiday, I decided to comment on a dating book that I'm mailing to my friend. It's called "Meeting Your Half-Orange" by Amy Spencer and talks about ways to loop positive thinking into attracting the right mate. Now, those who know me know that positive energy is a BIG turn on for me. Who wants to be around a grumpy-pants all day?

So far, one of my favorite snippets from her book is "Become the happy [person] now who you want to be in your happy relationship later." Simple right? But a lot of people don't even know whether or not they are happy right now. For instance, I can't say I'm happy at this moment, but I'm content, grateful, and hopeful. I don't find my life particularly difficult to go through everyday. It's been a long time since I didn't know where my next meal was coming from. I have a pretty solid base of friends. My family loves me. Health-wise, I'm at the best that I could be right now. Of course, when I think of myself as being in any relationship at this point, I always worry if someone would actually be able to squeeze into what I have going on. I'm at school full-time, internship part-time, work part-time, and just picked up a service-learning opportunity that'll take up a few hours a week.

Do I have time for dating?

Maybe not, but one thing I do value in a relationship is there being a separation that happens through natural events. I tried dating folks I worked with, but found myself bored at the end of the day because we had nothing to discuss. I'm the person now who I want to attract. I don't really value the notion of the housewife who is indoors all day waiting for the husband to come home. I want someone who's out there pounding the pavement in their own way. Ultimately, what makes me happy is making other's happy. As far as today goes, I think I've accomplished that, and I look forward to seeing what this year could bring.

Oh Acting Class

One should never get a facial piercing if you already have diction problems. I pretty much drooled on myself today during an improv game (thankfully I was only 'it' once), and we played a lot of word games which made me have to enunciate. Lesson learned.

Acting class both scares and excites me. It's my first one ever despite being around theater all my life. Having to think on my toes and make up stories with a company requires so much focus that it's impossible to zone out and know what's going on at all times. I think I'm getting better at it, though. I found myself having to act out being "in the mother's womb" and having my peers guess in 30 seconds where I was. I legit swam like a sperm, curled into a fetal position, and gave birth to myself. It was a sight to be seen.

For the next class, we have to do an observation exercise of someone in the world and then imitate their behaviors in class. I happen to have a lot of unique friends with traits that are so specific to them. I'm beginning to see how much of our behavior is non-verbal and trying to see how I can use this in the game next week.

Also, boo for not being able to go anywhere on my week off from my internship. I might actually have to do homework instead. No bueno.

K

10 Months of Manliness

Today was the first time someone called me "she" at work.

I doubt it's the first time anyone has ever suspected me of being transgender. I was only out to one person. Most of the time, I bet they think I'm a gay male. Sometimes, I bet they think I was adopted because I don't even act like your typical black gay man.

Next week, I'll be watching this film about black transmen and I'm supposed to be on a panel to discuss it afterwards. I'm actually nervous because I identify more with my gender than my race, even though I've had the latter for longer. I'm not even sure if I'll ever "fit" the stereotype of anything to do with my race. Very early on, I was given a lot of clues that I was "cultured" and "educated", therefore could never be "ghetto". My dad was not a good role model as to how a Black Man should act, therefore I strive to be everything he is not.

That's not to say that I didn't grow up in a loving family. My family loves each other so much that at least one day per week we hate each other. I know my mother likes my father, but I'm not sure if she loves him. She told me once that she wishes they never married and were just best friends at the end. That really started my questioning of being married. I mean, what kid doesn't want the significant other and the white picket fence? I wanted to get married so badly that I made a plan for myself. I would wear a ring on my finger when I walked across that stage at my college graduation. I'd have one kid before graduate school, and have at least one kid in preschool by the time I'm getting my Master's Degree.

So, here I am, three months and one day away from graduation with my Master's. No wifey. No babies. Living in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment with an wrought-iron fence keeping out the crazies. Hopefully I'm no more than three months away from becoming a man in the eyes of the State of New York. I've been taking hormones for ten months and sometimes can't recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror. I'm down to the weight I had when I graduated from high school. I've finally been able to hold down a B+ average, and have gone from a PC to a Mac. I've become addicted to the Millionaire Matchmaker, Hair on Broadway, and snuggling. I've lived in six different apartments in the past six years. I've graduated to a crackberry and an iTouch, but I still find myself longing for someone to share my nights with.

I was away at a conference for four days and never slept alone. I've forgotten the comfort in sleeping with someone you've put trust in, whether new friend or old, touching or not. I spend most of my time in New York attached to my laptop and catching up with those that are too far away for me to talk to. I've realized that I haven't made myself a home here. It's as if I'm just here for school and then I'm going to pack up and take off to the South. I've become so jaded about New Yorkers that I'm sure I will need a year of therapy just to get over the hard times I've had.

Yet, I'm hopeful. I'm hopeful that, like my mother, I'll find someone who can be my romantic best friend. I'm hopeful that I'll stop falling head over heels in love with people after one kiss. I'm hoping that I'll spread my eggs in many baskets, figuratively speaking. I'm hopeful that this year will be the year I finish a novel in one month. I'm hopeful that by the summer I'll be able to stop binding and can get a tan on my chest for the first time in five years. I'm hopeful that someone will take me for who I am and who I was meant to be. I'm hopeful that by December, I will have a job and enough money saved up to move out of my parents' house and travel the world without a care in the world.

We all need a little hope right now.

Why, Hello There

Sometimes people inspire you, and then you inspire yourself.