Daya in Transition

Once again...back into the breach...

2011-05-31T07:27:00.001-07:00

In October 2009 I was heavy. My weight had slowly piled on after I retired from performing. I was exercising...a lot...but I also drink too much wine. And while I eat organic, healthful food, it's always just a little too much.

So...for the first time in my life I really dove into a new lifestyle. Mark and I had a cruise coming in January 2010, and I did NOT want to be heavy on that trip. Extra weight acts like a big wet blanket on my self esteem and mood. I knew I needed to get it under control.

I started counting calories, using the app called Lose It!

I stuck with it. I also exercised at least 6 days a week. I was a machine. And I lost 26 pounds in 3 months. I felt amazing...better than I thought possible.

The cruise was good. I was able to deal it on an emotional level much easier coming from a place of health and fitness.

Once the trip was over I slid a little. I started drinking a little more, but I was still controlling my eating.

Then, Molly Bell and I were invited to do BECOMING BRITNEY at CenterRep in the fall. This led to a dumpster full of busy. The priority was getting things done and dealing with frustrations. By the time we started rehearsals in October I was running on nothing but stress and intent. At that time I was still (mostly) keeping it together health-wise.

Once we opened the show I reached the tipping point. I was on the road with a long commute...my eating schedule was interrupted...and the show itself, while a huge success, put everything on hold.

When the show closed I was still in one piece. It had been challenging, but it was over. Then I got sick. I had a baaaaad cold for 3 whole weeks. And my folks were visiting. And then it was Christmas.

And then, like a shark chomping into chum, I got a taste for NOT keeping control. After the intensity of the musical and the holidays it felt good to let go. Just a little.

Uh huh.

Now, a year and a half after I started by path toward that better me...I'm basically back at square one. I'm still healthier than I was back then...but my weight is back up. I'm tempted to blame it on the surgery in February, and I DO think that has SOMEthing to do with it. But I know what I need to do. And I'm once again there.

Since I was last on Weight Watchers they've changed the program. My mother has lost 52 pounds on the new system. So...I re-upped. I'll try Weight Watcher again for the next 3 months. With my new birth certificate in hand and surgery under my belt, I need to see how it feels to be that more powerful and confident creature. I need this.

Ugh...I hate this part. THE START.

And she appears once again out of the mists…(or maybe not something THAT dramatic)...

2011-05-27T06:56:00.001-07:00

I hadn’t really intended to abandon this blog. I just…waited.

I promised someone I would post by today, but this day came too fast and I don’t have anything brilliant prepared.

Divas For Life took place on Monday. It was the SEVENTH ANNUAL!! Wow. It was wonderful, and I’ve spent the next 2.5 days putting the video clips together. And now, suddenly, it’s Friday (Friday / Gotta get down on Friday).

Here’s my clip from the show:

You can see more clips here

I will write more soon.

A new BRITNEY video....

2010-09-20T16:15:00.001-07:00

I just finished this.

Divas For Life 2010...

2010-07-12T10:19:00.001-07:00

Here's my performance from this year's DIVAS FOR LIFE benefit concert. I hate looking at myself on video, so I could go on and on with a bunch of insecurities...but I won't.

Enjoy!

One more garden update...

2010-06-25T11:39:00.000-07:00

I think this blog has become only about growing things and healthy endeavors...at least for now...

The strawberries are fantastic. They are small...but we get about 1 per day...and it's like an explosion in your mouth (in a good way).

The tomatoes are growing and one is finally turning red. I have a feeling we're not far from being able to enjoy them.

The yellow squash is growing too. There are 2 or 3 small squashes. We're not sure how large we should expect them to get. I think I'm going to pick and use them for dinner tonight.

I wish we had more space. There's nothing like growing and eating your own food.

Yet another garden update...

2010-06-07T11:34:00.000-07:00

There's so much going on right now...and nothing I can write in this public forum.

Instead, here's an update on our lovely garden:

We've had about 15 strawberries do far. Delish!

No tomatoes yet, but lot of flowering so any day now.

And look at this zucchini plant!! Flowering like mad too!

Balcony garden update...

2010-05-23T11:12:00.000-07:00

I've had no time to blog about anything...but I wanted to post updated pics of our balcony garden.

Strawberries (we ate our first one yesterday!)

Tomatoes

Zucchini

And a mama dove who has made a nest in one of the hanging planters. We don't think the babies have hatched yet

Nature...right in our own home...

2010-04-18T16:45:00.000-07:00

Mark and I couldn't think of anything compelling to do today, so we ended up purchasing some plants...and Mark bravely worked in the sun for hours cleaning, preparing and planting.

We now have 3 tomato plants...a group of strawberry...1 yellow and 1 green squash...

We did really well last year with tomatoes...and we're eager for more homemade bounty!!

The thing that stops me cold...

2010-04-09T09:04:00.000-07:00

I don't know if it's a product of so many loved ones passing in the last few years...or my advancing age...or the stress of the times in which we live...or a combination of everything....but I find myself nearly paralyzed at times with thoughts of my own mortality. I've never been like that and I hate to think I'm a person who can't overcome the reality of the inevitable and remain philosophical. I feel philosophical...and then I remember and KNOW that in a matter of a few years (a few decades if I'm lucky) This body and my time on earth will be over.

It's enough to send me up a wall with panic.

I don't want to leave. Ever. I don't want to miss anything. I don't want to give up. I want...always...to have something to look forward to.

These are the big issues though, aren't they? This is the reason people gravitate toward organized religion and having kids (not that I want either).

So...I plod on...and try to be loving and grateful and creative...and not leave pain in my wake.

And the band plays on...

Britney's back!!!...and Little Shop too...

2010-03-25T11:03:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a long time since I've posted. I'm insanely busy.

I'm about to go into rehearsals with a production of LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS which I am assistant directing at Bus Barn Stage Co. in Los Altos. It's one of my favorite shows I never had the chance to perform. It will be great to help shepherd the show to greatness.

Also...DRUMROLL...!!

BECOMING BRITNEY has a new production!!!

It will be October 30 - November 14 at Center REP in Walnut Creek.

Molly will star again...and I'll direct. We are going to return to the script and add even more fabulousness to it. It will be a busy summer.

Check out the new video podcast I launched yesterday!!

Intentions...and the paved road to hell...

2010-02-22T12:28:00.001-08:00

I have been intending...planning...meaning...to edit video from the trip...and post wonderfully complete presentations of our experience.

But...

No time yet for it. Too busy. Blah blah blah.

So...I'm just going to post a few pics right now. I'll circle back to the rest later.

On the sky chair over rain forest heading up Mystic Mountain in Jamaica.

Sitting in The Crooner's Bar on the ship

Mark, my Love

My Dad, Harvey

Harvey and my Mom, Carole, at the animal sanctuary in Costa Rica

At the animal sanctuary in Costa Rica

Scarlet Macaws

Mark relaxing on deck

Making the case for genetics...fun with anecdotes...

2010-02-05T06:26:00.000-08:00

While on the cruise we had a conversation in which my mother reminded me that she had been a tomboy when she was younger.

I know it might not mean anything, and even if it does, who cares...but I find these facts interesting:

- My mother was a tomboy.

- My father is, in many ways, not a standard cookie-cutter man. He feels and shows emotion and he approaches the world with empathy.

- My sister had very narrow hips and very small breasts. If she hadn't been such a girlie-girl, she might have been mistaken for a young boy.

And then there's me.

Huh.

Just a random thought.

States of dis(grace)...angry voices from the (possible) past...

2010-01-31T08:02:00.000-08:00

I just received a comment posted to one of my "Across The Abyss" posts.

I decided when I started this blog to moderate posts, so I would have control over any spam or negative energy flowing my way. I guess I should probably just delete this comment and ignore it. But...I have decided to post this rant (edited a little for language) here. The writer of this anonymous message fascinates me. I will try to turn their words into a healing lesson.

"What a disgrace you are to the TG community everywhere. You are a f*#$%ng wanna-be c$%t, C$%T. I hope you treat others with love and grace because you are totally engrossed with yourself and don't know when you find the time to do so. Think about the people you have hurt in your past from your selfishness and the karma you are living now. During high school I knew you were a basketful. Now I know why. I hope your hormones (or lack of) don't implode on you. But I guess you will never see the harm and evil you have transferred to those around you."

It's signed "R". Just an "R". I'm not even sure that stray letter is supposed to represent a signature. I'm not going to comb through my high school yearbook trying to figure out who "R' is, so we'll just have to consider this an anonymous message.

Let's pull it apart:

"What a disgrace you are to the TG community everywhere."

The writer uses the term "TG community". Either they are part of that community themselves or they picked up the language.

When I was in high school I was told I was a disgrace to the gay community because I was too effeminate. Now I'm told I'm a disgrace to the TG community. Without specifics I can't begin to answer to this accusation. I admire all TG people...and I strive to be a good example and a teacher. Perhaps I'm going about it the wrong way. I know for sure I handled myself poorly on the ship when I was called "sir" by those waiters. That's regrettable, but all I can do is learn from it and not do that again.

"You are a f*#$%ng wanna-be c$%&, C$%&."

This next line already degenerates into name calling. That's sad, because it takes the power away from the first line. I guess it's true...I guess I am a bit of a "wanna-be", whatever that means. If I'm honest with myself I have never really found my groove, and I'm still on a quest for that. I'm not sure how NOT to be a wanna-be. Perhaps this "R" person could point me in the right direction. Can people never improve "R"? Was I doomed at birth in your humble opinion to forever be a terrible person?

"I hope you treat others with love and grace because you are totally engrossed with yourself and don't know when you find the time to do so."

Engrossed with myself? I guess that's true. I'm also engrossed with the Love of my Life Mark, my incredible parents, all our wonderful friends, all the inspiring women and men in Saturday dance class, my amazing electrologist (who is also a trans woman, has become a very good friend, and with whom I love spending those hours each week), my clever web clients, Sirius Satellite Radio (to which I listen every day, bringing me music, laughs and interesting personalities), movies, nutrition and exercise, cooking, television, theatre...

When I was performing, being engrossed in myself was a job responsibility. Now, I try to be more well-rounded. I know many people can become very one-note when they start gender transition. I recognized that possibility in me so I tried hard to retain balance. At the beginning of transition I was lucky in a very awful way. My dear sister was diagnosed with Leukemia. It was impossible for me to put my transition center stage. That became the template. I can't speak to any self-engrossing behavior back in high school. If you can fill me in, "R", I would appreciate the snapshot.

"Think about the people you have hurt in your past from your selfishness and the karma you are living now."

I believe in Karma...and I do think about it, I promise you that. If I don't know I hurt someone in the past how can I think about it? If you're not willing to tell me what I did to you, how can I atone in my heart? I take your words seriously. I do. And I will continue to move through the remainder of my life in a more loving way. We can all use more love, yes?

"During high school I knew you were a basketful. Now I know why."

I'm not sure if you and I really attended school together, of if you're just saying that for convenience to make a point. Either way, the term "basketful" is hilarious, and I'll use it myself sometime if you don't mind. I'm sure I WAS a basketful in high school, I can't even stand the thought of me MYSELF! If I am still like that it's not because I strive to be like that. I just don't know any other way to be in the world. I'm trying. Thankfully I'm surrounded by people who are a little more patient with me than you appear to be. I'm insanely lucky and grateful.

I spent the entire 12 years of school in terror, of others and of myself. I didn't know how to conduct myself, I was beat and mocked and ignored like so many others were and are. I remember at the beginning of high school, all I wanted was to be in the drama club, to be accepted. I was so shy that I sat in a corner and didn't speak to anyone. No one spoke to me. Later I was told that "everyone thought you were arrogant".

I never had the tools to be comfortable in the world. I'm still not quite there...but I'm getting closer.

There are many things I regret from my earlier life. There are many things I regret from my not-so-earlier life. I've made lots of mistakes...and maybe I've mishandled (consciously and unconsciously) the feelings of others. In fact, I'm sure of it.

I don't quite get the "Now I know why." part. Is this supposed to mean I'm a tool because I'm trans? Doesn't that mean "R" is bad for the TG community too?

"I hope your hormones (or lack of) don't implode on you."

I hope not too...!!! It's a delicate balance...but I have a great doctor and so far so good. I'm healthier than I've ever been. I'm connected to my body in a way I couldn't dream. So yes, I also hope nothing goes wrong!

"But I guess you will never see the harm and evil you have transferred to those around you."

Unfortunately, without your help "R" I feel you're right about this. But I will tell you, I WANT to know. I want to know about and accept it without ego and try to atone for any pain I might have caused. I don't think I did any of it on purpose. If you can bring yourself to give me more details I would be sincerely grateful. If you ever want to really reach out and let me know what I did to you to hurt you so badly, I will accept your thoughts with love and understanding. I can't take it back without a time machine, but I can apologize. And most importantly I can learn.

I am humbled by your message even though I don't agree with your methods. You must feel passionately or you would not have taken the time to write. I will attempt to be more selfless in my life...a good goal for which all of us should constantly strive. It will be hard to not appear self-centered here on this blog since this forum is, in its rawest form, about me. So don't expect any changes here. But I will take your reminder and apply it in my dealings with the world.

In a weird way, a message like yours is a gift. It's all in how we take it. And even though it's wrapped in pain and strong language, I take it with love. Thank you...

Impressions of the trip...from Mark...

2010-01-29T06:48:00.000-08:00

Mark wrote a very succinct and funny note to a friend describing our trip in a nutshell, so I thought I would post it here:

Cruise Decent - not spectacular. Food was white bread, fiberless and average unless you paid another up charge (and very few vegetarian choices). A couple waiters calling Daya 'Sir' and all of that. I wrote a complaint about the dining service and it took someone 40 hours to get back to me. The "smoking room" (in the ship’s main atrium) had a single small ionizer to scrub the air and that was broken the first three days so an invisible cloud would hit us sitting in Crooners Bar and we'd have to leave. We never even considered the on-board casino due to smoke. Every drink and service had a 15% Gratuity automatically tacked on and if I left something extra, I later found the entire price of the drink with the extra gratuity charged again. They were also very anxious to convince us that our livers (ship wide) needed detoxing - snake oil. If they really wanted to help us, they wouldn't try to sell us a mai tai when we were clearly finishing our wine and daiquiris, one in each hand. A slippery up-charge slope but we were a captive audience and their only business.

Other things they tried to sell you - I mentioned the detox, which went with an ab strengthening lecture that slid seamlessly into up-selling the on-board spa and acupuncture sessions; a wide variety of mostly horrible art (we found one piece of the Statue of Liberty we liked, more to be kind than anything); Swarovski crystal jewelry; a ton of colognes in a very smelly shop off the atrium; purse knock-offs and lladros; t-shirts and Hawaiian prints next to Princess line cookies; a jewelry shop that featured fire opals with a too chatty clerk; emeralds and diamonds were best bought offshore in Jamaica (or so they told us); and they never stopped taking pictures to sell you. Conga lines, formal nights - there is a hilarious photo of Daya and I as we were embarking that we still laugh about. Three photographers even got off the boat at a Panama lock and shot video and stills up at the suite balconies, filled with passengers watching the sides of a 106' wide ship go through a 110' slot. It took a lot of restraint not to flip them off or flash them, but they'd publish those photos, I'm sure.

We were amazed that shipboard printing was filled with grammar and spelling errors.

The detox flyer that was left on our beds at some point. A lecture by Dr. Dean (and I should put Dr. in parenthesis) used a PowerPoint that was so full of errors, even strangers were seething that they felt they were being talked down to or worse, that no one cared to check the simplest of spelling problems.

Island Princess was of the Love Boat line, and entertainment there was a cruise line cliché - cheesy, flat and completely unnecessary. It could have been right off the Love Boat series (which aired two or three different episodes each day in our cabins). Some people must like stage shows that way - not Daya and I. We each picked out a dancer or two from the chorus and one singer from all of them, but the crowds applauded and cheered. Perhaps ten percent of the total civvy population was under 50, and they were, for the most part, shell-shocked, like an oil painting. The winky-pointy cruise director, Frank, would schedule things like trivia or LGBT get togethers and we'd show up with no staff member attending. Another contestant and I mocked him when I was waiting for my on video karaoke interview by pointing and winking at the camera behind the host. The cruise staff was mostly on auto pilot, although I managed to have a real word with several just once.

A few decent atrium pianists balanced the nasal British Crooners Bar performer who pounded the keys so hard, he broke three strings in his desperation to entertain. He was much nicer in person, quietly playing scrabble in the corner with his NY girlfriend. The other singer, Jean Mac, an older East Indian woman, played in a trio from The Great American Songbook with her husband George on piano and a bald bassist that would stare at you while he played; they were talented but were on breaks more often than not. She knew songs I would request, trilling and cooing the first line to prove I couldn't surprise her but wouldn't sing any but “Embraceable You” for Daya and “How Deep Is The Ocean” for me. She loved to chat with us during breaks and we know most of her back-story now by rote.

Daya's room was near a consistent smoker and located 50 yards or so from mine. My stateroom had a water reclamation station right behind my headboard wall which was active any time we weren't docked. One of the ship de-stabilizers thrummed along on another, rattling a Holiday Inn lobby quality landscape print as it passed back and forth. In addition, it was adjacent to an inner crew corridor so I would hear drills or announcements and dash into the hallway, realizing too late it was for crew. Needless to say, we won't be using a third party travel agent in Michigan again:>

Another cruise...hmmmm...would need to be with a group of people we liked and could do things with, perhaps on a charter that was focused on unusual food. Roger Ebert used to do a cruise that showed movies and they were discussed afterward, often reflecting where the ship had been. If it was a French cruise, they'd look at select Goddard films, if Italy, Fellini, etc. THAT sounded like a blast but now Roger can't even talk - he does all of his reviews via written word. The two guys who finally took over At the Movies got his blessing and we watch them weekly now.

On the brighter side, Daya exercised and maintained 90% of her weight loss. I'm not as heavy as I thought I was but am back watching what I eat as well. Fruit could be requested for rooms at no charge so we got kiwis, bananas, oranges, apples, pears and would secret the occasional cookie from the buffet. I did get myself into a karaoke contest and came in second place (one of the contestants brought 40 fellow Canadians in to tip the voting) on the last night. It was really nice to sing on a stage again. The crew was international and the best waiters were Romanian, the best staff member was Bryan, a blond Canadian, and the rest blended into the night. I'm sure shipload after shipload of people trying to recharge must be draining to serve.

The pastor and his wife, Dave and Linnea, who traveled with us, were a delight - they ate with us a few times featuring interesting conversation and laughs each occasion. We all weathered the huge waves with Uno and Hearts in the game room. Dave's a Harvard graduate who has written a book and only broached the 'preachy' side once when addressing mortgage primes and real estate blah de blah. His wife is a pistol that liked to laugh and Daya and I loved her. Good sports, both of them, and they were excellent traveling companions. Both Dave and Harvey came down with something in Acapulco that hit poor Harv several days longer. That's when we learned the on-board drugstore carried nothing. You had to call the shipboard doctor for Advil or an anti-diarrheal, which was $80 plus cost for medicine AND you got quarantined 24 hours in your ship cabin. The Doctor remarked that every time they docked at Acapulco, 15 to 30 cases of Montezuma's Revenge were guaranteed but out of Florida, nothing.

We had two serious storms while at sea, one of which had 70 knot winds and we later found was a category 11 gale, so two ports wouldn't even let us dock! At one point, Daya and I sat on two lounge chairs, just inside of some serious ocean spray and everyone who stepped outside for air smiled at us and understood our sea discomfort. One chatty man filled us in on his life as an engineer in South Dakota, Minnesota and Michigan backwaters - he only left when we decided we could stand no more, nice and deathly boring as he was.

The seriously polluted port at Guatemala created a fiery red sunset, but our excursion there was canceled due to "lack of interest"; The Scarlet Macaw sanctuary in Costa Rica was spectacular, both its people and entertainment; Panama Canal was interesting (although the best thing about the port of call was the cheap beer and sunset:>) but we hit the jackpot with Jamaica, which had just finished a run of 12 days straight with rain. We rode the Jamaican bobsled three times and had our breath taken away by the canopy ski lift! Daya and I were really giggly there, more than anywhere else, and Harv & Carole were all smiles. We managed to get to the Disney park in time to do Animal Kingdom and then woke up to do the Hollywood studios the next day so. We all did the Expedition Everest roly coaster (poor Harv at 72yrs gritting his teeth), the safari ride, Tower of Terror (Daya screamed, I held my breath), Aerosmith Rockin' Roller Coaster (a quick spaghetti bowl dark ride), Toy Story game in 3D (SO much fun with Daya being high score and me most accurate), the American Idol experience and a few others before we drove to Tampa to visit Harvey's Sister(Daya's Aunt), Pat, and her wily husband CJ. Their kids came and went in a blur and Pat cooked up two dinner meals, each featuring meat and dairy (sigh). We visited the Keel & Curley winery (blueberry and strawberry wines are their specialty and I ordered a mixed case!) & continued our pattern of binge drinking. Evidently the Key lime wine, freeze mix and a little tequila will create something special!! I admire Joe Keel for the hard work it takes to create and run something like that.

I was able to sneak off and visit a few nearby antique stores on my own and that was nice. Picked up 4 different sized purple amethyst glass bottles for Daya, a few 45s to slake my thirst, two Comics Illustrated with suggestive covers and a handsome Italian desk set, all shipped home in its own box with some spare shoes - that helped the luggage stay under airline weight restrictions. Finally, we got everyone dropped off at the airport and in our planes for the bumpy ride home. Except it wasn't - a few bumps in and out of Houston but with all of the nationwide storms, we were amazingly lucky. Continental had satellite TV on the back of every headrest so we paid up and watched two movies (Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs and All About Steve), half a Biography and were home! Did some food shopping that night and fell into our apartment with sighs of relief:>

Did four giant loads of laundry & all of the shopping on Saturday - caught up on backlogged TiVo shows and saw Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus Sunday. Two weeks later, we're back at work. I think it's nice that it's stormy here - kind of completes the changes that we were looking forward to:>

I think it was put together well as a whole - we had trouble navigating the Mexico City airport, touched in Acapulco, endured rough seas and cruise ship woes that we either got used to or the trip got better the more we could get off the damn boat, then hit pay-dirt with Jamaica, enjoyed Disney and a van ride to Tampa, really enjoyed the winery and wound up happy to hit Terra firma.

Pronouns, customer service and unwelcome reminders...

2010-01-28T09:54:00.000-08:00

Mark and I both find ourselves crazy busy again already.

I really intend...intended...to write long and detailed trip reports of our journey...but I find that hard to do right now. Not enough time to tackle the whole trip at once.

So...in an effort to not let it all fall by the wayside, I will post thoughts as they strike me.

One of the issues I was most curious/concerned about before the trip was how I would be perceived by a range of people from other states and countries. I needn't have worried. For the most part people were supremely polite and respectful. I was gawked at a few times, but I learned to play chicken and if I started back long enough it put an end to the intrusion.

I had only two instances of discomfort...both in the dining room on the ship...both at lunch...and both with different waiters (both from Latin countries).

Situation 1:

I ordered lunch...and the waiter said "thank you sir".

I was wearing a tight t-shirt...full makeup...dangling earrings...hair up...

I used a line I've always wanted to use.

"What, are my boobs not big enough?"

That's all he needed. He was sufficiently sorry...apologized...and corrected himself.

It was empowering. And I immediately felt my anxiety diffuse and disappear.

Situation 2:

Same dining room. Same meal time a few days later. Different waiter.

After ordering our server referred, for some reason I can't remember, to my mother and myself. When he pointed at my mom he said "she" and when he indicated me he said "he".

I pointed to myself and said "she"

He said "no"

I said "yes"

He said "whatever"

I said "No, not 'whatever'. This is my life."

He walked away with a look of confusion.

It's possible we had a misunderstanding based on the language barrier...but I don't think so.

Again, I didn't hang on to the event. I think I learned that saying what's on my mind is sometimes OK. Imagine.

I related the story of these interactions to a friend yesterday. She chastised me for my reactions. She commented that I may not realize that some people don't see me as a woman.

I'm not sure exactly what she intended to say (and I don't think she meant to hurt my feelings). I don't agree with her insinuation that I should simply accept incorrect pronouns because I may not match an individual's template for femininity.

I believe that a person in a customer service position has a responsibility to use their eyes and judgment. If a person is not sure of my gender, it's best to use NO pronouns or titles. They should certainly recognize cues. And, in those cases where a person simply doesn't handle it correctly, I feel it's my duty to myself and other trans people to let them know. The WAY I let them know is my business and my privilege, and if I feel later I went too far, that's for me deal with.

I am the first person to feel insecurity about my gender presentation. It's depressing for a friend to suggest I should remain dubious about it. Much of my transition up to this point has relied on feedback from people around me. At this point in my life, that's much less important. The reaction I get from most people is that I look natural in my current presentation. The conversation yesterday felt like an old school slap to be reminded of my genetic heritage.

Ah well...

I press on...and I know in my core who and what I am. If nothing else, the experience of existing in so many different parts of the world as my current self has helped me feel settled in a way I didn't expect.

While not dangerously blazing and out of control, I walked through some milder form of fire...and I'm stronger on the other side.

Somtimes an hour is only an hour...

2010-01-23T07:06:00.001-08:00

Our 1 hour delay at Houston was only an hour...and we headed back to SFO.

The plane even had DirecTV on-board...so the 4+ hours flew by. We got our luggage and truck with no problems...did some grocery shopping and came home to eat and collapse.

The only surprise was the cold. Oh...my...

I did not expect the bone-chilling cold.

I wonder how long it will take to get used to it again.

Almost...almost...DOH!...

2010-01-22T12:32:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor at the Houston airport. There are no seats near the only outlet and I'm trying to recharge my laptop before getting on the final leg of our trip.

And of course, the weather waits until now to pour rain in SF...

And of course our flight is already 1 hour late....due to that damn rain. We're supposed to leave at 1:35pm (about an hour from now)...but I'm worried.

The trip was EPIC.

I'm fat...and exhausted...and I'm really looking forward to being home. I hope this glitch in the very last step doesn't put a pall over the proceedings.

I'm very uncomfortable. My back hurts sitting here...so I'll post again as soon as I can put some thoughts together.

And we're off...

2010-01-07T13:44:00.001-08:00

Tomorrow morning...at dark-o-clock...Mark and I head for San Francisco International. We board a plane to Mexico and get on the Island Princess for a 10-day journey to points in Central America and the Panama Canal.

I'm excited, obviously...although I don't travel well. I'll be happy when we finally open the door to our stateroom.

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I have no idea what to expect from the trip. I hope to have pics and video when we return.

I will not have Internet access on the ship, which I think will represent the largest block of time without access for me since...well...um...maybe 1995...!! I've got a couple good books and I'll have my laptop for writing.

Trip reports to come!!

Hungover New Year...

2010-01-01T09:17:00.000-08:00

I've become such a lightweight. A couple glasses of wine and some cookies and I feel toxic for 2 days.

We attended a small party last night. Loads of fun.

There was a consensus that 2009 was a bad year for most people. I found my experience in stark contrast. Last year was a very important and transformative time for me. Money woes aside, I wouldn't trade 2009 for anything!!

I'm floating into 2010 with a very hopeful spirit...

Across the Abyss #5...Spinnin' right round, like a record, baby, right round round round...

2009-12-28T14:58:00.000-08:00

As 1989 ended things were plodding and swinging same as always. Even though 1990 started with a "seems like old times feeling", it would end in ways I wished for and feared at the same time.

This part of the journal is hard to get through. Lots of wheel-spinning. Not much movement. But a couple key moments.

By this time my journal entries become less frequent....or at least less consistent. I believe I was probably at the point in my cycle where I chose once again to "move on" from the trans thing. The last post of 1989 seems to suggest this, but also leaves a door ajar:

Wednesday December 20, 1989
5:10pm

The Roberta Thing hasn't come back. I still have a strong desire to dress up, though. I don't know...

Until 3 years ago I always had a talent for missing what was right in front of me. I "still had a strong desire to dress up", but I somehow put that in a separate category, unconnected with the main trans issue. In general, the angst level of this post is low. Whenever I wasn't tormented I thought I was ok. I ran at two speeds...two extremes...with no real gray areas in between.

Monday April 23rd, 1990
1:20am

Went to Crissy Field to celebrate Earth Day. We saw The English Beat perform.

Most everything that has happened before 1/1/90 feels like a past life. At the very least, it's like a dream.

Can't write anymore. Too mind-boggling.

When I wasn't obsessed with my gender identity confusion, I tended to distance myself from myself. I even claim I can't put any thoughts together. If I tried I might open that Pandora's Box again.

Thursday August 23rd, 1990
5:09pm

Gosh! What do I say? It's been way too long.

I'm now living on Page Street. Gordie is my absent roommate. He spends all of his time at his boyfriend's place.

I have this 3-song record but I'm not getting anywhere with it.

I'm not surprised I had abandoned the journal during this time. Between producing and recording the vinyl record...and moving...I had no time for hand wringing. Keeping busy always buffered me from Roberta.

I went to L.A. and fell in love with a guy named Nick. It's just the Tom thing all over again.

Of course my search for love...or sex...or whatever the hell it was I thought I needed...led to yet another mildly humiliating experience. This time, at least, the object of my affection was gay...and for some reason he liked me. But Roberta was too near...and while I was powerfully attracted to him, once I traveled to his home I froze like Cindy Brady on that TV quiz show. It was a failure...but I misread my feelings as infatuation. I came back to San Francisco after a weekend in L.A. and I wrote a song "for him". The fact is, I had the music kicking around for years...and the angst of my interaction with him pushed me to finally create a song out of those musical ideas.

I only have a bad recording from my 4-track, recorded in my apartment.

I sent Nick a cassette of the song. He was polite. And that was that.

I'm actually too depressed to do this right now. Sorry.I'll try again someday.

Sunday September 23rd, 1990
1:00am

The Roberta thing has come on quite differently this time. It all started right after I came back from L.A. I was pretty out of my mind about Nick. I thought I was in love with him. I was depressed about it but it didn't paralyze me.

Every day I'm changing, growing. The main problem is no new problem at all. It's the same as always:

- I'm too fat
- My face is not feminine enough to pull it off
- I should be talking to a therapist

In general, I am very happy these days. I am finally FINALLY going beyond the wall to see where my destiny lies.

Apparently that failed interaction with Nick was enough to push me to a new place. Even though I start out saying there's nothing new I immediately proclaim I'm actually making progress.

I've got major support from Dawn, Teresa and Janet. They know I'm thinking of the change-over.

I notice the term "change-over" starting to appear. I guess I had not heard of or become comfortable with the term "transition".

They are so calm, helpful and nonchalant about it that it works on me as a calming influence.

I still get skittish and depressed about it but now the turmoil is not nearly so intense and it lasts only a fraction of what it used to.

I'm not saying anymore that a gender reassignment is the ONLY answer for me. I'm taking it one step at a time, getting as much enjoyment as I can from each step and not putting unreasonable demands on myself.

I'm finally starting to accept myself and BOY is it great!

I seem to be healing in leaps and bounds. It sounds great. Unfortunately I know there are more storms to come. I wonder why I could never hold on to solid feelings of self worth.

Friday September 28th, 1990
12:20am

Earlier I had twinges of feeling foolish for wanting a sex change. Feeling fat and unattractive doesn't help much either.

Now? Oh shit, I don't know. You know what I'm doing? Just what I said I wouldn't. I'm at that point I always reach just before I say forget it and repress it again.

I've done a lot of big talking about going beyond the wall but I'm finding myself once again too chickenshit to call a therapist. I have to make that effort.

Why can't I just say "screw that" and worry about what I find important, what I believe in? Why the ongoing paranoia? There are plenty of transsexuals in the world. Why do I think that other people are not supposed to see me as that? I wasn't pressured to "be a man" as a child. I was allowed to cry allowed to discover my "homosexual" self. If this paranoia doesn't come out of my upbringing where is it created? Am I afraid of the truth? Or am I afraid of my fantasy self taking too much control, lest she force me into something that just shouldn't be?

I'm stumped!

...and that's the exact place this cycle always, always, always takes me!

Tuesday October 2nd, 1990
10:16pm

I talked to Petyr about The Roberta Thing today. I didn't realize until then how worried I was about what his reaction would be. It felt a little off...uncomfortable...embarrassing, but I was honest and open about my ideas and desires.

I don't get what's going on. I feel that strong "forget it" state of mind that ends each TS cycle. Is it really ending again? If it's really ending again, what the hell has been all this work for?

I used to become distressed when my obsessive interest in my trans feelings would wane. It seems I felt that if it wasn't all-consuming, then it wasn't true. I was quite a little drama queen, which would be amusing if it hadn't been so self-destructive.

Friday October 5th, 1990
5:37pm

I'm starting to feel so shitty and depressed. Is it the beer? The cigarettes? My eating habits?

...or am I just a freak?

My whole life had been a struggle to curb hedonistic habits. I smoked (which I always loathed), I ate more than I needed...and I imbibed more than I should have in alcohol. I blamed my Irish heritage for the last one, but that became not so cute in later years. At the moment I write this, I am free from the prison I created for myself. I quit smoking, FINALLY, 13 years ago...and recently I've somehow found the strength to help myself break the food and drink cycles that stumped me for so long.

6:14pm

Why is it that I feel I've lost control? I felt so in control for the first 6 months of this year.

6:32pm

I'm so scared at this point in the cycle. I was just reading some of this journal from a year and 1/2 ago. Even though I feel over it now, it will come back strong again. The only possible answer is, YES it will! So it's very VERY important that I don't push it all away this time. I can't just give it up because I'll be back at square one when it starts again. I can't live the rest of my fucking life at square one.

And besides...what would be so bad about living the 2nd half of my life as the other gender? Who the hell is going to really care?

I really have to see a therapist!

Wow...there it is. This is a concept that carried through with me and is still present today. "What would be so bad about living the 2nd half of my life as the other gender?" That says it all. What's odd about this to me now is that I was only 28 years old. I wasn't yet at an age that anyone would normally call "halfway". But I am that age now.

It's almost as if I knew even then that I WOULD transition...but I needed to wait. And maybe in the end, the waiting was the frustration. When I think of all the life I would not have had if I had transitioned in my twenties I shudder. Especially in the last 8 years, the experience I've had made me strong enough and confident enough to be the kind of person I want to be. If I hadn't had these experiences I think I might have made a mess of things.

Tuesday October 9th, 1990
7:29pm

My emotional life is quickly sinking into a murky blackness that I am at a loss to explain.

The TS cycle has completed. At this point I can't imagine ever feeling positive about it again.

I hate living alone. I am so bored and lonely on days like this.

TV, food, cigarettes...on & on & on & on & on & on & on...

Thursday October 25th, 1990
6:40pm

I still haven't called a therapist, but I HAVE written ETVC for current info and I found out my insurance would cover $25 a week for therapy. That would help anyway.

My life is proof, therefore I am frustrated and depressed because I am not living up to myself, my capabilities. I must be able to look at life, my life, squarely and say "I welcome you. I love you."

It's MY life! It's ME!

But...

As superficial as it may be, the physical reality of my world is a wall that I constantly attempt to scale. The wall seems endlessly impenetrable.

I imagine these are feelings common to many trans people. For my 28 year-old self it felt revelatory. At least I finally started the information-gathering process. This is the sign of things to come. And even now it makes me sigh with relief.

Saturday November 3rd, 1990
12:13am

Just 2 things...

- The ONLY way I'm going to get over this weight thing is through exercise.

and

- The ONLY way I'm going to get over this TS thing is through therapy.

...There's the facts. If I choose to continue ignoring these things I'm going to go crazy and/or die!

The choice is mine...

THE RESPONSIBILITY IS MINE!!!!

Fucking CHOOSE, David!

1:04am

I'm so confused...

If all I am is a transvestite, how can that possibly relate to a relationship with a gay man?

If I AM actually transsexual, how could I ever hope for a relationship with a man?

I look at myself in the mirror and I hate what I see. Is that because I don't like seeing a man, or I don't like seeing ME?

This just goes around and around.

Right round, baby, right round, like a record, baby, right round round round.

All I can feel when I read this is that I'm so RELIEVED to be the me I am today!!! I wish I could reach back to 28 year-old David and say:

You WILL quit smoking...
You WILL lose weight...
You ARE a transsexual...
And you finally LOVE yourself.

Next installment: The holiday season holds a welcome gift.

Baby Jesus please pass the beef...

2009-12-24T05:47:00.000-08:00

This evening we're headed out to a Dickensian Xmas Eve dinner at House Of Prime Rib in San Francisco.

As a vegetarian I will not be eating chunks of rare beef...but I do look forward to a huge baked potato, possibly with the sinful addition of sour cream and other fixin's. The baby Jesus is happiest, I hear, when we're stuffed to the gills.

Done...and done...!!

Across The Abyss #4...Fear and (Self) Loathing in San Francisco...

2009-12-21T14:16:00.000-08:00

I suppose I should circle back and try to encapsulate the content of the first journal. This was my original intent, to analyze these diaries in chronological order. But the scope of that first book was so narrow I now think perhaps a few sentences will suffice.

I was 24 years old. I was naive...and immature and very insecure (a theme that would continue with gusto until about 8 years ago). Most of that first tome was dedicated to just two primary issues:

My weight: Up and down
The boys with whom I was infatuated

The entirety of my self-worth seemed to rely all too heavily on these two issues...especially the second one.

It is certainly a challenge for me to read that first diary. It's a time machine back to a place where I was making silly mistakes and drawing very broad assumptions about life. It's a challenge to remember...but it doesn't hurt a lot. Little did I know, the big blow was just around the corner...in journal #2...soon after the move to San Francisco.

Once I took the lid off the trans thing...set that monster loose...it threatened to tear me limb from limb.

This is the mindspace I'm about to enter.

At the time, a cliché horror film sign saying "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here" would hang precariously on a rusted gate. My decision to ignore that sign could be my undoing. Despite this I dove headlong into the depths.

Looking at it from here I'm safe.
With my current spirit, I can handle it.

Embarrassment will not kill me. Let's see if it makes me stronger.

Please be aware that the language gets a little harsh from here on. I've decided to not censor my younger self. My commentary will be in pink.

Sunday November 6th, 1988
Afternoon

The Roberta Thing is on me heavy. I don't understand. I've talked about it with so many friends. The usual response is "stay the way you are". So what's the alternative? Being a transvestite? I would rather be real.

I know I need help but I'm too scared to get it. I've been at this point so many times now. It never amounts to anything but embarrassment after the fact.

Would just being a woman be enough? Could I live without romantic involvement? Because, let's face it, I wouldn't be very attractive and I have to be honest. A lot of men (99.999%) would not be able to deal with that kind of truth.

What would happen to friends & family? The people closest could deal with it. The satellite friends would freak, I guess, and then I would freak.

Could I afford it?

What kind of work could I do? People might not react to me very positively. I will look either ugly (and ugly people aren't treated as well as good looking people) or people would suspect me immediately of being transsexual.

But I'm caught in the middle of it again and I want so badly to be a woman.

I always have.

And I guess I always will...

So shouldn't I do something about it?

Yes I should seek therapy.

It's a circle that keeps happening. I'm sick of traumatizing over it but I don't know how to stop it.

Is it a sin against nature?
Is it a sin against Karma?

I had started studying New Age thought in the early 80s. I did then and still do believe in Karma. I also believed then in reincarnation (I don’t have a strong feeling about it one way or another anymore).

My theory back then about why transsexuality might be wrong was this: If I purposefully reincarnated into this body, there must be something I need to learn on a soul level. If I change my gender I may be thwarting that growth. To “give in” to the desire to live as a woman might cheat my spirit out of the opportunity to learn some important lessons.

I don’t feel that anymore. Instead I actually feel like I have the opportunity to learn the kinds of lessons that most people will never experience.

I don't know I don't know I don't know I don't know.

But I want it.
I want it so bad.
I want to do it, and live it.
I want to be who I am and fuck everyone else.
I want to be the woman that I know I can be.

Doesn't anyone out there know what I mean? I'm sure you people exist but how do I find you?

Can someone please show me the way?

I always felt so alone. I’m glad that with the advent of the Internet, young people do not have to feel this kind of alienation anymore.

Tuesday November 8th, 1988
9:50am

Talked to Dawn last night about The Roberta Thing. It’s still playing heavily on my mind. I know I have to find some therapy but I’m procrastinating. Could it be that I talk about it just to get attention? If not then why haven’t I gotten any help?

Embarrassing?

Was Wendy Carlos embarrassed?

If this is truly what I want wouldn’t I search intensely until I found it? What’s stopping me?

Back to the beginning of the loop:
These questions will only be answered in therapy. So what am I waiting for? Do I fear the answers? Do I fear they’ll make my pronouncements false? I don’t fucking know!!!

I’m really down today.

Wednesday November 9th, 1988
2:00pm

Still really freaking out.

Talked to Ed last night. Made me feel better…then.

More questions:

Would it look like a real vagina?
What would sex feel like?
How much does all this cost?
How long does it take for hormones to start noticeably affecting you?
Would electrolysis be necessary? If so, on my entire body?

Sunday November 13th, 1988
1:40pm

Boring, rainy day.

Still depressed about Roberta.

For the first time in a long time thoughts of suicide are entering my mind.

Attention-getter?
True chemical depression?
Here I am again!! Fat & unhappy. And it’s no one’s damn fault but my own…

Monday November 14th, 1988
9:00am

Hard night last night. Hard day.

I spent some time in a fetal position, crying. Everyone (Janet, Gordie, Dawn) ignored me. I decided that since I can’t really kill the body, I would kill David. I resolved to let everyone know I don’t want to be called David anymore.

I have to get to know who “Dallon” is. I do know this about him: He’s brave and confident. He’s in great shape and healthy. And most of all, he doesn’t take shit from no one.

Dallon has to protect David. David is too sensitive to survive in this world. He should back off and let Dallon take over.

Goodbye David.

Stick around quietly if you’d like. Dallon’s going to take a lot of heat but he can handle it.

This is really hard stuff to read and to share. I’m obviously terribly upset and I don’t think I mean much of this. I go from saying I will kill David...to saying I need to protect him. Crazy.

There are many pages following this passage that become even weirder. I just can’t write it all out here, and I don’t think that’s the point of it anyway.

I’m stunned by the idea that I felt transgender, desiring a change of name and outlook about myself. But because of fear I blocked myself...and it looks like the construct of "Dallon" was some kind of odd compromise. One way or another I couldn’t be David...but since my real heart’s desire seemed out of reach, I gravitated toward some other drama in which I was truly a separate personality.

I should say that "Dallon" lasted about 48 hours. He was false. He was the one that couldn’t survive. And I hurt my friends along the way, especially Janet. Here's how it went:

12:32am

I went to the 9th Inning Tavern. Played pool. Drank. It was fun.

I was confronted about the change by Janet:

Dallon "I don’t know what you want me to say."
Janet: "I guess I’m doing something I never do, which is confront you."

David was screaming "Oh Yeah? Where were you last night?!?"

I need to say here that I’m mortified about my selfishness. Janet was an angel in my life.

When I first moved to California I was incapable of taking care of myself financially. I had never developed the tools. I could have easily fallen through the cracks. Janet supported me and protected me.

It’s hard to see how ungrateful I was just a short year or so later.

She says she guesses Dallon is just going to be a cold and callous person because when I got home she was crying on the porch about the fact that her parent’s dog and cat were put to sleep. She demanded an explanation that “her friend” did nothing more than say “oh” when she told him about it.

Mortified mortified mortified.

Janet never asked anything of me. She gave and gave and then gave some more. She finally needed something from me and I failed.

But I’ll say this: Janet having the strength to confront me that night seems to have made an impact. I continued however to alienate my housemates for the next 2 days.

Wednesday November 16th, 1988
Sometime after work

I’m truly a psychopath!

I just got home from work and no one is home. The house (& gate) is locked up and I don’t have my keys. So here I sit on the steps.

I really don’t understand relationships at all. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now. It’s my fault for not bringing my keys and why should I expect anyone to let me know anything with the way I’ve been acting?

Why can’t I just accept things? What is it about me that makes me react the way I do? Why does this have to happen to me? Why?

In the safe hindsight of today, I can see clearly that my anxiety was about my trans feelings. That “Why God? Why me?!” attitude permeated the first 40 or so years of my life.

Saturday December 10th, 1988
8:00pm

Here I am again, feeling enormous and out of control!

All in all I’m doing ok emotionally.

It’s almost as if I believe being so manic depressive is a legitimate way to live.

Wednesday January 11th, 1989
11:18pm

The Roberta Thing is on me again. I saw a transsexual on “2 @ Noon” on Monday and the old juices got flowing again. It’s a little more complicated now because I’m dating John. Gordie told me tonight that he sees me as the “masculine” one in the relationship. Oy vay! I’m really confused!!

I’m existing day to day with no real plan in mind.

John was yet one more failed attempt at intimacy. I always ended up feeling like I couldn’t deliver as a man.

Thursday January 12th, 1989
11:08pm

I try, I try, I try...

I try to convince myself it's stupid.

But it all boils down to the same thing, again and again.

GODDAMN! Why do I have to deal with this torment?

Sunday April 23rd, 1989
1:00pm

There was this fucking article in the paper today about someone going through a sex change. I'm not even gonna start. I can’t! STOP IT!

Of course instead of ignoring it I wrote about it. Thoughts of my theoretical feminine self were never out of mind…never far from the surface, although I became adept at pretending so sometimes.

Thursday May 4th, 1989
10:00am

It’s back on top of me, fucking with me again.

Alex Bennett had TVs & TSs on; Christine Jorgenson died yesterday. She had said "Follow my example." The TS on Bennett said "Do it young."

I know it is what I need, what I have to do. I've always known. I'm just so embarrassed. Money aside, I just can't see myself waltzing into Penney’s to pick up a bra.

The clothing issue had always been a sticking point. My deep belief that I was transgender was about my body, not clothing, and I wrongly assumed the two were connected and often let that block me.

They gave a PO Box to ETVC, which can connect me to the people I need to see. But I can’t afford it! That shouldn’t stop me, though.

Oh my GOD, is it really going to happen?

Friday May 5th, 1989
5:00pm

Well I woke this morning thinking "Oh god, how stupid of me! It’s so ridiculous! What a joke of a goal to have in life. Forget it. It’s so stupid!"

And, as always, as the day progressed, I became more and more sure that’s it’s exactly what has to happen.

This is such a stupid thing, not being happy with my gender. God! Why do I have to deal with this?

I have to get some help.

6:55pm

It’s ridiculous!

How could I possibly think for a microsecond that I could pull it off?

Note that under 2 hours had gone by between pronouncing it my destiny and rebuking it forever once again.

I’m exhausted just reading this!!

Saturday May 6th, 1989
2:15pm

I sent a request to ETVC for information today. I hope they respond. I’ve got to be strong, and not be afraid to make the call once I know who to call.

I’m so embarrassed.

It’s soooo weird that this keeps happening to me. It just PISSES ME OFF!!

3:33pm

It seems no matter what I do, how I act, what situation I’m in, what decisions I make, what my weight is, what length of hair I have, what amount of drugs are in me, what my prospects are, what friends I have, how much money I have, how lazy or devoted I am, what I’m eating, what the weather is like…

...I just can't get beyond it.

Sometimes it seems the only alternative is no alternative.

I don’t want to be fat
I don’t want to be unhealthy
I don’t want to be smoking
I don’t want to be irresponsible
I don’t want to be obnoxious
I don’t want to be horny
I don’t want to be unappreciated
I don’t want to be lazy
I don’t want to be hairy
I don’t want to have a penis

And most of all, I don't want to feel this way.

I'm tired...of dealing with this...

Sunday May 7th, 1989
9:14am

Yeah, it’s still on me.
Yeah, I’m still confused.
Yeah, I’m still smoking.
Yeah, I’m still lazy.
Yeah, I’m still hairy.
Yeah, I’m still obnoxious.
Yeah, I still want to be a woman!

8:21pm

Really drunk.

I cut off my nails a couple hours ago. I was going to write:

"I give up..."

But now I don’t know...

NOW...

Why am I such a freak?
Why do I have to be so different?

I just want to fit in!

All I keep doing is ignoring it, putting it on the back burner, because there’s no place in my life for this kind of drama.

But...where does it go?

Where does it end...?...

Saturday May 13th, 1989
4:00pm

Back & forth / back & forth…

4:59pm

I’m still depressed about Roberta and I haven’t heard anything from ETVC. Damn it! Why won’t anyone HELP ME?

I need therapy –
I want therapy –
I’m afraid of therapy –

Why couldn’t I have just been born a girl? Would things REALLY have been ok?

Sunday July 16th, 1989
4:12pm

Just finished Bodyshock.

I don’t know what to think.

On one hand I feel more educated as to the reality. One the other I feel it’s a lost cause.

I feel somewhat cleansed after reading the book. I honestly don’t think my friends would react adversely to me during or after change-over.

I think the term that helped me was "male-to-constructed-female". It’s an honest term that seems to take the pressure off.

Interesting. The first real information and it immediately seems to calm me.

Monday July 24th, 1989
4:42pm

I don’t know what's happening. Saturday night I feel so confident. Then Sunday I had done a complete about face. Now again today I realize it has to be. Then tomorrow I’ll probably change my mind again. Oy vay oy vay OY VAY!!

Oy vay is RIGHT!!

And finally:

Sunday September 10th, 1989
1:35am

OK! Here it is...

I’m completely over the sex change thing and I think it’s possibly forever.

No information about why. No logic. Just sheer force of will. I declare "I am no longer transsexual" for the billionth time in my young life. It was a blip...an anomaly. And...it's "OVER".

We know better.

I don't think a young person should have to feel such angst about their own body...their own soul. I think things are changing.

I sure hope they are.

A song I love...that I hate to hear...

2009-12-21T07:42:00.000-08:00

In dance class on Saturday, the cool-down song was "Falling Slowly", the Oscar-winning song from the movie ONCE. This song was also used in class about two months ago. Back then, when the song burst forth from the speakers I burst into tears and ran out of the studio, crying in the parking lot.

The movie ONCE was released sometime in the late spring or early summer of 2007. Mark and I loved it...and I immediately knew my sister Victoria had to see it. Victoria and I saw many many movies together over our 40+ years...but adult life had a way of slowing that down and we had not had that opportunity in a long time.

At that point, my sister was in treatment for leukemia. I can't quite remember the timeline of her ups and downs...but I do remember she had been on a downswing for quite a while, unable to go out or exert too much energy. But at that moment, not only was she on an upswing, she was well enough to travel down the peninsula and spend the day with me, a very rare occurrence indeed. We were able to see the film together, the last theatrical experience we had together (the next and last film we ever watched together was THE MUSIC MAN on DVD at her home when she was on her final long downswing).

Victoria loved the movie ONCE as much as I knew she would...more if that's possible. We cried and cried about it. The movie delivers a message about remaining true to yourself and letting your emotional self live large despite any odds and obstacles you perceive.

After the movie we had lunch together. It was an infrequent and wonderful day with my sister. And the last such day I would ever have with her.

After seeing the film, Victoria told all her friends about it, encouraging them to see it, making copies of the soundtrack to help them fall in love with it too. She ordered them to see it, making a lot of noise about how she felt.

The song "Falling Slowly" was nominated for and won the Oscar for best song. It was a triumph that seemed to mirror the hope in the film.

When Victoria passed away I made a video for her memorial, attempting to encompass a life snuffed out way too soon. As background music I ended up with 2 songs. "Forever Young" by Alphaville was an 80s dance anthem that always drew she and I to the dance floor as if in a trance. Our friends would mock us, saying if that song was playing you could always find the Curley kids on the dance floor with huge smiles plastered on their faces. The second song was the obvious choice...but even when I inserted it into the video editor I didn't yet understand how appropriate the choice was. At first it was just a second song that meant something very important to both me and sister.

But once I saw the song in the context of Victoria's fight against cancer the meaning of the words completely changed.

You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along

Even writing this now is too much for me. I have trouble seeing the keyboard through the tears that wake in Pavlovian response to this lyric and all the wonderful, horrible memories attached to it.

For context, here is the video I made for Victoria. The song in question starts about 1/3 of the way into the 11.5 minute presentation. Click on a flower to start the video...

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So...a few weeks back...after a vigorous exercise class...the last thing I expected to hear were the mournful strains of that ballad which has such heavy meaning attached. When it started I gasped...and I grabbed my belongings and ran out...crying hard...and changed into my street shoes just outside the studio door. The windows were open and I was only able to achieve the silence I craved when I finally got in my car and closed the door.

Last Saturday in dance class...like another surprising left hook...the song came on again.

I had 2 choices:

Run and cry

Stand and face the feelings, and try to make a place in my world to hear the song...let it flow over me...let the memories happen...and try to remember that glorious day when Victoria and I were able to laugh and cry together and have a profound experience appreciating this amazing piece of music.

I chose #2, obviously, and for the first time since my sister died, I was able to hear that song without crying.

I suppose the act of not crying seems like a small accomplishment, but for me it was a Battle Royale for the entire 3:20 length.

I miss my sister. The pain is so fresh that it makes me angry.

But at least she and I had that moment in 2007...the whole time assuming she was on the mend...not knowing it was our last opportunity for this kind of outing and therefore enjoying it with the fullness of our passion for the film and that song.

A popular entertainment with a solid message...

2009-12-21T07:06:00.001-08:00

We saw AVATAR yesterday. I was dubious going in, as I was not impressed with the story as I saw it played out in the ubiquitous trailers. Even as far as halfway through the film I imagined rating it low, perhaps including a dictionary definition for the word "trite".

Some of the film's dialog is indeed corny...some groan-inducingly so...

But I realize a day later that the story, which centers around respecting the natural world and remaining in tune with nature, is so in keeping with my own spirituality that I'm thrilled this message will get to such a wide audience. Children will memorize and discuss this film, like my generation did with STAR WARS, and in doing so, they will be indoctrinated to concepts that they don't get in other aspects of their life.

It's a beautiful film with a beautiful message...and if the delivery isn't always perfect, it deserves props for boldness of philosophy.

Across The Abyss #3..."The Roberta Thing"...

2009-12-16T08:16:00.000-08:00

I've always known I was transgender. Always. Way before I had words to name it.

I remember these feelings as far back as age 4 or 5. I didn't insist I was a girl...but I always felt that I wanted to be a girl. Like so many trans people, I hoped and prayed that some magic would happen while I slept and I would wake up female.

But alas...

I could not accept it. I assumed I was gay...again very early on...because I was attracted to boys. That was bad enough...but it was the less complicated and least devastating answer.

Nothing like this was simple while living in a suburb of Detroit in the 1970s...

I was able to come out to my family as gay when I was 15 years old. To this day, people tell me how brave I was to do that. But, while I was sharing something very important and controversial with them, I still wasn't telling them the REAL truth, which was that I wanted to be female. That, I couldn't say.

I never quite got the hang of being gay. Although I love gay people to this day, I never felt like I fit in with them, especially in places like a bar.

I wasn't one of those young people who was out and proud about ALL of me. People may have known I was gay, but for some reason I drew the line at sharing my trans feelings. I didn't even have verbiage for it until an epiphany at 18 years old.

Whenever I heard about a trans woman...in the news...in a movie...it was enough to send me into a tailspin that sometimes lasted months. I described the feelings as a monster climbing on my back and refusing get off. I became depressed, and thoughts of suicide would creep in, although I don't think I ever would have attempted that except as a cry for help. I don't believe I wanted to die, which made living with the monster all the more horrifying.

By 18 I was finally out of school...partaking a bit in drinking and other recreational substances...and trying to figure out what my life might be. I was cross dressing in secret when I could, but I was so lost in my own closet that it never would have occurred to me to seek therapy or share my feelings.

My sister Victoria had gone away to college at Western Michigan University. In the fall of 1982 I drove the 3 hours across Michigan to visit her and see the band Circle Jerks.

I had recently read or seen something on TV about a transsexual. I had also seen a movie the previous summer that had a huge impact on me (more about that in a moment). I don't know if I was conscious of the monster once again taking up residence on my back. Sometimes it climbed on slowly, landing one claw at a time, gingerly, stealthily. I sometimes didn't recognize what was happening until I was fully it its grasp.

It was happening again. I got depressed. I got drunk. I took some LSD. We saw the band and hung around in Victoria's dorm room. A leather-jacketed punk from her dorm was there. He probably was there to flirt with Victoria...and I know for a fact he didn't appreciate the attention he got from me...my inhibitions down and my libido up up up.

I don't remember much more about that night except one thing. At one point I suddenly came to a mental clearing and found myself in an empty dorm stairwell. Alone. I was crying. Hard.

Like Scarlet O'Hara making a pledge to the heavens I promised myself out loud: "Some day I'll get my operation."

Even through the haze of highness I surprised myself. I knew I had those feelings...and yet I had never verbalized or accept it as such. Hearing it in my own voice was a shock. And it wasn't good news. It certainly was a turning point, however. I would not be able to ignore the issue completely anymore. My carefully constructed shield was gone. I was destined to become more depressed because now I was no longer able to live in the safety of that bubble any more. I had kept myself ignorant...and now I had let the cat out of the bag.

The film Tootsie was released shortly after in December of 1982. This was enough to upset me a bit, to see a man living as a woman...but since it wasn't actually about a trans person, the effect was not detrimental.

I had a much stronger reaction to the release of another film earlier in the year. July 1982 saw the release of The World According to Garp. The week before the movie opened I read the book. I was profoundly affected by the book in general, and specifically I was stunned to find a transgender woman as a prominent character.

The character of Roberta Muldoon was and remains to this day a beacon for me, and John Lithgow's amazingly gentle and sympathetic portrayal showed me for the first time how a trans person could possibly fit into the world. Not a perfect fit, but not a disaster by any stretch. Sometimes when you're transgender one feels that "not a disaster" is the only realistic thing to hope for.

I searched for a scene with Roberta from the film, but only found the following. This is an amazing critique by a trans women named Christianne Benedict about the character and importance of Roberta:

After 1982, my emotionally destructive cycles repeated:

- Cross dress...
- Dream (turning to desire) of taking it further...
- Obsess with changing gender...
- Convinced because of insecurity I can never do that...
- Throw away all female clothing items with a promise to stop...
- Depression...
- Calmness...
- A pause and then cross dressing again...

Sometime around 1985 or 86 I made an effort to share my trans feelings with a friend for the first time. The reaction was less than supportive. I wasn't strong enough to be confident about it...so I dove back into that dank trans closet, a familiar place I assumed would be my home for the rest of my life.

In 1987 I moved to California. In my heart of hearts I was traveling as far as I could from home in order to have the room to find myself. Of course, that still takes courage and hard work...and when I finally did broach the subject with two of my closest California friends, I found myself unable to use proper terms. It was as if the news was less scary or dangerous to give it a code name.

I didn't say "I'm a transsexual"...or anything like that.

I reminded them about The World According to Garp...and I referred to my issue as "The Roberta Thing".

For many years after I was never able to call it anything but.

It seems so immature and quaint now...from this side of the abyss. But back then, my shame and fear ruled everything. I was mortified to be who I was.

This is a great example of why I'm writing this blog. It's important for me to illustrate to myself just how far I've come.

Journal #1 contains no mention of "The Robert Thing", even though I know for a fact it had reared it's head before I started writing in 1988. That was another part of the cycle. When I was overwhelmed by "The Roberta Thing" it was all-consuming. When I was "over it", I needed to pretend it never existed.

No wonder I was insane.

I was prompted to write this post now because I finally ran into the first mention of this subject in journal #2...page 57...Thursday November 3rd, 1988...

I had been living in San Francisco since August 15th. I was working at a clothing store in The Castro. One would think the excitement of a new life in that beautiful city would be enough to keep me distracted for a while. But right there on the page...out of nowhere...but right below the surface:

"I feel The Roberta thing starting to climb on top of me again. What a sick and stupid cycle."

What follows are many pages of questions and self recrimination. That will be the subject of the next installment.

It's hard to read this. It's hard to see how hard I was on myself. But...from this side of the abyss, I'm finally safe. At least from myself.

A goal...the BMI and my shrinking form...

2009-12-15T14:32:00.000-08:00

About 3 months ago I started yet another new diet. This time it wasn't really a "diet". I decided to be scientific about it for the first time in my life and actually count calories.

I was up to 195 or 192 depending on which scale I used. The doctor's scale always shows 3 to 4 pounds more.

When I started losing weight my mom asked what my goal was. I didn't have an answer except to say "I just wanted to be healthy."

A couple weeks ago...as I crept into the 170s for the first time in decades, I started wondering myself what number I was shooting for.

I've always been "dense". I've never really looked as heavy as I weigh. I've also always believed that the BMI (Body Mass Index) charts were unrealistic. I really thought in the 190s that the 170's would be pushing it for me.

But...I looked up the BMI and found that to be considered "normal weight" I would have to weigh 165 or less. As I reached the mid 170's I started realizing that I probably CAN reach that as a goal. It would be really wonderful to not be officially overweight.

I went to see my doctor today for my 3-month checkup. My blood work (taken last week) is stellar except for vitamin D, which I'll work on with supplements.

The scale at his office read 176...which means they show a 19 pound loss in 3 months. I don't know how on earth I finally got the discipline to help myself, but it feels great!

Now all I have to do is keep losing and try to maintain during a 2-week vacation.

Yikes!

My mom has been an inspiration, losing nearly 40 pounds herself. On the cruise, we'll exercise together and try to keep each other from falling into the buffet mouth first.

Across The Abyss #2...not what I expected...

2009-12-14T14:13:00.000-08:00

I've been reading the journals.

I don't know what I expected, but my reaction to them is not what I thought it might be.

I plowed through the first (and smallest) journal. At one point I was doing dishes and I pondered the story and characters. I wondered how it would turn out. I realized I was thinking of the journal!! Reading them is coming across, in some strange way, like reading a novel.

So far I've finished all of journal #1 and journal #2 up to page 57 (of 507 pages total). I assumed I would want to stop along the way and comment...and I do have comments...but I can't put it down...and I feel I need to get through it organically and then try to circle back and comment. At least that's how I feel at this point.

The first book only covers from January 23rd - May 2nd, 1988. the main focus was simply to lose weight. During this period I went from 196 pounds to 168. It was the largest weight loss I had experienced in a lifetime of Weight Watchers and Melba Toast.

Also during this brief period, I became infatuated with a series of men (boys, really). I'm embarrassed to see how naive and desperate I was. I was also blind to the signs, which were plentiful and right in front of my face.

Unrequited love is a painful thing. Lots of us can relate to it.

I made it an art form.

I had a real talent for finding guys I craved...but who were unavailable in some form (or sometimes many forms). Most of the subjects of my focus were straight. But even the ones who were not...well...they were not the proper object of my desire and/or they didn't not return my affection.

The first journal reads like it was written by a manic-depressive. I seem to flip from thrilled to devastated and back again in the space of hours or days...week after week after week.

I don't know how my friends tolerated me. I was certifiable.

But...I was learning. I was away from home for the first time...a stranger in a strange land...and while I was most certainly freaking out on a constant basis, I also managed to grow. A little.

I opened the first journal with a quote from a song lyric...and also a new-agey statement to myself.

The song lyric is from "This is the Day" by THE THE

I'm not sure why I added the quote on January 31st. I guess after writing regularly for a week I felt the journal idea would stick...and perhaps possibly even make some kind of philosophical difference in my life.

I have lots more to say about journal #1...but I'll leave it there today.

David was a nervous and needy person. I find myself rooting for him. But alas...he never quite made it. I believe he was the best construct I could have created for myself. He lasted 43 years before he needed to be retired. The gooey inner core...the hidden and protected part...the person I felt I actually was and am...finally gets to wake and walk around. Sigh.

David as a personality was false in many ways...the product of my perceived expectations from the world around me...and also from my own unwillingness to take this leap of faith.

There will be no surprises with the finale of this plot. I do know what happens to this character in the end...but I'm still rooting.

A note about comments...

2009-12-14T14:08:00.000-08:00

I just discovered that since some time in November...all the comments that have been posted to my blog posts by visitors are not showing up. I'm not sure if they are gone forever or not.

Google (who owns Blogger) is "aware of and working on the problem". I have no idea when I'll hear more.

So...to all of you who have left comments recently, I'm not ignoring you or dismissing you. I appreciate your comments very much. I hope they are not lost to the ether!!

Across The Abyss #1...a series of arcs...

2009-12-11T08:04:00.000-08:00

I'm starting a new series on this blog. I've been mulling this over for a long time.

I have a set of journals that I kept from January 23, 1988 through February 2, 1996. These manic and intense writings create a picture of a world full of insecurity and fear...a mind often fueled by substances. I'm not sure how forward I'll be about the substances part...but that isn't what is important here anyway.

The first journal starts innocently as a tool to keep track of what I ate in an effort to lose weight. Over the years the pages become infected with self hate as my trans feelings come racing to the front of my conscious mind.

I was 25 years old when the journals start...and I was fresh off the boat from Michigan...and I was ill prepared to deal with my feelings...although if I'm honest, this was exactly the reason I moved 2500 miles away from where I was born. I came to California to find myself.

My intent with this once-in-a-while series is to look honestly across the abyss and revisit these points in my past in an effort to remind myself how far I've come and to reassure myself how "good I have it" now. I dreamed then of being where I am now (at least in regard to my gender status)...but I didn't have the faith to leap for it.

I assume this will be painful for me. But I also assume this will help me in some therapeutic way. Otherwise I wouldn't take on the challenge.

There is a LOT to be embarrassed about in these books. I've always feared someone finding them if something happened to me. What on earth would they think of me?!?!

Maybe if I can reconnect with those injured parts of my psyche...maybe then I can throw these journals on the fire (figuratively and perhaps even literally) and move on in an even more integrated way.

I consider myself a very level-headed and emotionally healthy person. Perhaps this journey is unnecessary and possibly destructive. Not sure.

My gut tells me to try.

So...

Here goes...

Into the abyss...

Locally luscious...

2009-12-08T10:14:00.000-08:00

Ever since Mark and I saw the documentary FOOD, INC. on May 17th, we have switched as much of our food to organic and/or locally grown as possible.

FOOD, INC. trailer

If a food is not organic we at least want it locally grown. We also have been searching for a CSA to join in our area. Here is an explanation of CSA.

We found one the other day...and yesterday I picked up our first order. Each Monday we will pick up a selection of fresh, in season fruits and vegetables. Here's a view of our first bounty:

Since starting my current eating style (I won't call it a diet) I have really come to connect on a different level with food. I am filled with wonder and gratefulness when I'm handling and preparing this gorgeous food.

And now, I feel fortunate to have this kind of direct connection between the ground and our table.

Our CSA is called CSA Bay Area and it is open to everyone. I encourage everyone in the area to support this...and in turn help yourselves.

Also...please watch FOOD, INC.

Small twinkling lights...and scratchy music...

2009-12-06T16:31:00.000-08:00

Mark and I spend this afternoon putting up our little tree.

Last year we moved the tree location from a stand by the living room window...to the top of Mark's Victrola, which sits mostly silent and normally holds a lamp.

While I was putting the 3 foot tree together and stringing our strands of LEDs, Mark chose a few of his favorite 78rpm records.

Crank...hiss...pop...and glorious music!

It was truly a holiday picture out of the early 1900's. Well, except for the LEDs I suppose.

The tree is done. It never fails to calm and thrill me. I'm a sucker for Xmas pageantry.

The fruits of our afternoon of labor:

And then she contradicts herself...

2009-12-04T07:07:00.001-08:00

After writing the last post I saw my dear friend Karie Bennett of Atelier Aveda Salon Spa at Santana Row. As she was trimming my hair, we talked about her involvement in a half marathon a couple years ago.

Out of the conversation came the notion that running (or jogging) is no better for you than walking. Hmmmm...

When I got home, I did some Google research...and in fact the consensus is that running or jogging causes more stress to the body without much added benefit.

Then last night as I was relaxing, my feet kept cramping up. I had put them through some pounding with my living room jogging...and it was immediately obvious my body was rebelling. Can you blame it?

So...I would like to amend my last post and change any "running" or "jogging" references to "speed walking".

UPDATE:

My friend Teresa passed along some important info about running that potentially changes everything I've written. She informed me of this article. Thanks, T!!

The animal wants out of the cage...

2009-12-03T10:05:00.001-08:00

For a couple years I have been working out at home (in addition to the dance class I do on Saturday mornings). I started out, on the recommendation of my mom, doing a Walk at Home DVD. It's simple and it burns calories. Over time I have changed to harder Walk at Home DVDs. A while ago I also added a cardio DVD produced by The Biggest Loser. I alternate days with each video.

I use the videos as a general guide, but I tend to increase the difficulty of the moves. I have begun to spend more and more time jogging (in place)...and I have started to feel like I would prefer to be running on a track or on the street. I've been wondering if I should drive to the Stevens Creek Trail and run there.

My wondering ended yesterday when I saw this report.

I'm now trying to figure out where to run. I feel like a caged animal suddenly...but I want to be safe as well.

SIDENOTE:

This morning I found another song I love to workout to.

"Heaven Can Wait" by We The Kings

No ring around my finger...

2009-12-02T10:10:00.000-08:00

I've lost some weight recently...and a ring that Mark gave me a couple years ago has been feeling more and more loose.

I lost it yesterday. I think I lost it in my allergist's office...but I can't be sure. I've got a call into them.

I loved that ring.

Damn.

FOLLOW-UP:

The doctor's office just called. They don't have the ring. I guess it's gone forever...

(sigh)

Cardio and Sirius...a Lovely Marriage...

2009-11-25T11:25:00.000-08:00

I exercise most mornings. And when I do I listen to my Sirius satellite radio.

I usually flip between Sirius Hits 1 (which plays the new pop hits)...the 70's channel...and the 80's channel...

Yesterday, just as I finished the workout the song "Down" by Jay Sean started. I was a little disappointed because I love that song...but I needed to move on with my day. So I turned the radio off.

This morning...I got dressed for my regular workout...I turned on the Sirius radio...switched it to Hits 1...

...and guess which song was just starting...

Guess. I'll wait.

"Down" by Jay Sean.

How's THAT for synchronicity and continuity?!?!

SIDENOTE:

Some songs are better to workout to than others. Here are a couple faves that I moved to today...

"Love Drunk" by Boys Like Girls

"21 Guns" by Green Day

Lois Forletta 5/22/1918 - 11/21/2009...

2009-11-22T16:32:00.000-08:00

My maternal grandmother passed away yesterday. She was 91 years old...and she had dementia for the last 11 months. She lived with my parents for the last 4 years...and she was very well loved and cared for.

Lois Forletta was one tough broad. And funny. She made a mean spaghetti sauce.

There's been a lot of death in my family's world over the last couple years. My parents have spent most of that time care taking, first my sister and then my grandmother. It's time they got a break.

I love you, grandma...

Vaccinated...

2009-11-19T10:39:00.000-08:00

After much research and debate...I decided to receive the H1N1 vaccine. Since I have asthma I am considered high risk...I'm coming down on the side of safety.

My doctor's office called this morning saying they had the vaccine...

I went right away...

The deed is done.

It's in my body.

I'm confident it was the correct choice for me.

I divorced Facebook...

2009-11-18T13:00:00.000-08:00

I deleted my Facebook account about a week ago.

I gave it a good try...I really did...

I uploaded pictures and video...I commented on the posts and photos of others...I connected with a few people from my past.

I even talked Mark into joining.

But...

Over time I’ve been very frustrated by the prevalence of one-way communication. Some of my 450+ “friends” did respond and keep in touch, but a huge majority seemed content to ignore all communication. Actually, I don’t know if they ignored it...they very well could have read it...but having received no replies I can’t be sure.

Life is now so full of one-way data from the net...TV...radio...that I find myself losing the human connection. And while until recently I was proud to be one of those 40-somethings that could keep up with the tech trends and be flexible...I have to now say that I need to hang onto SOME old-school behaviors. And by "behavior" I mean people actually keeping in touch with each other. I know it's a lot to ask...and I've been told over and over that "not everyone is like you Daya". Despite that, I know how I feel...and the lack of connectedness in my world makes me feel sad.

I cherish and value communication…especially from people I consider friends...but I have to finally admit that Facebook is not the place for me to get that need fulfilled.

I found myself feeling down when visiting the site...but I kept doing it.

So...in an effort to clear my head of too much unnecessary info...I have come to accept my limitation and I said goodbye to my Facebook presence. I believe all the people who wanted to find me have found me and I them. So...Facebook and I are done. And it’s time to move on.

It has not been as hard staying away from it as I feared it might be...so I guess I can be confident that I am not a Facebook-aholic...

Also, there are no children involved, so I believe the divorce will be amicable and smooth.

And by the way...not a single person has commented on my absence...so I’m sure I won’t be missed.

It’s a relief.

P.S. I also closed my Twitter account, but having hardly used it, I don't think that merits more than this sentence. Maybe not even that. In fact, ignore this sentence.

NOTE (added 11.25): I was just reminded by my oldest friend in the world, Kelly Scarpelli, that she certainly noticed I was missing from Facebook. I should have worded that sentence a little differently, I took some poetic license.

A little validation...

2009-11-18T07:55:00.000-08:00

Here’s a page from the life lesson that says “Your insecurity is unfounded and here’s why.”

A number of years ago, when I was still performing, I often did auditions for on-camera gigs. One very odd audition was for World Savings Bank in Oakland. I drove all the way up there…found parking…found the building…the office…

It was a small conference room with a single person and a camera. I was asked to improv and situation I can’t quite remember…something about being a bank customer who creates some problem for the teller.

Now…I’ve never been comfortable with improv. I usually freak out a little. I go overboard.

In short, it’s usually a major cringe-worthy experience for me.

So…I do this audition…and I felt terrible about it. I was not surprised I never got a call afterward…and I’ve worked hard even since to put it out of my mind.

Fast forward to one day last week. I believe it was last Wednesday the 11th. At some point during the afternoon…for no reason at all…that audition flashed through my mind. I didn’t dwell on it except to acknowledge that I probably was chasing the wrong dream with those auditions since I did so poorly. I shuddered remembering the feeling I had during and after that bad bad bad audition. And then I went on with my day.

Sidenote: I have a cell phone, but I only carry it to make urgent calls while I’m out. It’s usually in my purse and I rarely even look at it, so I often do not get voicemail messages until a day or so late. But, not many people even know that number, let alone use it anymore, so it’s not a problem.

Back to last week…now on Friday…

I had just taken my cell phone off the charger and was putting it back in my purse. I turned the phone on and noticed that the red light was blinking, indicating that I had a voicemail. I called to get the message and here’s what I heard:

“Hi. This is a message for David Curley. I’m formally a video producer at World Savings. You had auditioned for us for a video production as an actor, and we liked your audition and we kept your information, and I’m no longer with World Savings but I am doing video production for companies in the Bay Area, and if you’re still available for acting work I’d love to talk to you. Please give me a call…”

The message was left last Wednesday the 11th at 10:50am.

HUH?!?!

It’s a gracious little gift from the Universe. It means that any torment I slathered upon myself over a “bad audition” was wasted energy. I’m grateful to know I didn’t suck.

I think the key now is to learn how to overcome that kind of insecure feeling without NEEDING that validation. It’s nice to have validation, but most of the time that will not be available.

It's my dooty...

2009-08-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

Oh joy...I've just been summoned for jury duty toward the end of September.

This ought to be...umm...interesting.

Damn. I don't even have 5 different outfits to wear in the course of one week.

But...it's written to "David Curley". I wonder if that will matter.

I'll have to call the court tomorrow and set them straight.

Invisible Shoppers...

2009-08-17T16:06:00.000-07:00

Mark and I were in Whole Foods on Saturday. There was a little table set up in the food area where a man (about our age) was offering samples of an acai juice drink. I avoided the invitation for the sample because I noticed how hard-sell he seemed. I wasn't in the mood.

I stood about 6 feet away and watched as Mark listened to the guy's sales pitch.

I also noticed the woman standing next to Mark...also sipping a sample...and seeming more interested in the product than Mark.

"How much is it?" she asked.

She might as well have been invisible. The juice guy kept right on talking to Mark. He hadn't even glanced over at the woman since he handed her the sample.

"How much...?" she started again, but stopped, realizing the futility

Mark noticed her plight and interrupted Mr. Sales to ask the price. He gladly shared the info with Mark, who tossed it to the woman with a nod.

Eventually Mark was finished and as we walked away from the scene the guy was finally acknowledging this woman (now his only customer). He bent at the waist and leaned toward her to listen, the way one does with a child...or a pet...as she asked more questions.

A couple years ago I might not have noticed this dynamic. It's a strange thing to be on the other side. Not that I didn't understand there would be downsides to not being male. Especially male and white. But I guess I'll have to control my urge to trip that man if I ever pass him in the aisles of Whole Foods. I could probably get away with it, though. After all, I am invisible to him.

Thank heavens for boys like Mark.

Employment Non-Discrimination Act...

2009-08-10T16:45:00.000-07:00

It seems that we may once again have hope of a federal law against discrimination for gay and trans people.

http://www.pridesource.com/article.shtml?article=36468

A while back this bill was moving through the regular channels. It looked like the bill would be hard to pass if the inclusion of transgender rights were attached...so Barney Frank and others decided to jettison the trans inclusion in order to get rights for some, but not all.

It was disgusting and disheartening. I went to a vigil in front of the storefront for the HRC (Human Rights Campaign) in The Castro in San Francisco. My late sister Victoria (complete with a scarf on her chemo-ravaged head) and her husband Noah joined us and we heard speeches and tried to hope for the best outcome.

That version of ENDA died...and a lot of time has passed.

In preparation for the vigil we had purchased candles at Walgreen's. We used them at the vigil and I promised that I would not light the candle again until an inclusive ENDA passed. The candle has been dormant in my closet ever since. It's collecting dust. I glanced at it a couple weeks ago and felt sad. The candle reminds me of my now-gone sister...and of how horrible we treat reach other when there's a lot at stake.

Well...it looks like we're up to bat again. I don't know what's going to happen this time...but I've got the candle out on my desk now...and I'm ready to light a match at a moment's notice.

Maybe this time we'll do what's right.

Sah-WING batahhhh...

2009-07-29T12:33:00.000-07:00

I was gifted a cute new brown suede purse by a friend.

I just noticed it smells like a baseball mitt!

Finally I own something with that smell which I like...and know what to do with...

Looking back...Looking forward...

2009-07-29T10:48:00.000-07:00

My first attempt at gender transition came in 1991. I lived in San Francisco. In fact, I lived and worked in The Castro. One might think that was a plus…but I had never felt like such an alien in my life…and that comes from a lifetime alien.

I was 25 years old…and through the haze of insecurity, fear and youth…I couldn’t picture myself there post transition. I stopped the transition cold.

Fast forward to October 2006. Living in Mountain View in a fairly public career as a performer, I sit myself down and ask myself straight out: “what is it you want?”

The answer was clear. I wanted to transition. It was exhilarating and devastating….and I did not know where it would lead “this time”.

When I reactivated my transition I missed living in San Francisco with every fiber. I remembered only the good stuff…and never considered it might be better for me to transition outside the bubble of political correctness that exists there.

My relationship situation made a move back to SF impossible (and for that I’m ever so grateful). My experience with transition has been extraordinarily smooth so far. I recognize how fortunate I am compared to most differently-presenting people. I have had universal love and support from family and friends…and if I did lose any people along the way I don’t know about it.

But…

I’m over 2 years in now. Life is now just…standard. There aren’t a lot of new things happening.

Now I have to figure out the nitty gritty of how I live in the world with this presentation.

What does it mean to be transgender?
Where exactly do I fall on the gender continuum?
Does it matter?

What is my role and responsibility in the world?

How can I be of service?

I’m going on a cruise in January. This is a trip my parents have been planning for years to celebrate their 50th anniversary.

It seems fraught with possible pain for a trans person. But I also hope that I can affect my captive audience in subtle and important ways that no amount of picketing or demonstrations could.

I’ll bring a copy of this post with me on the ship for those times when I want to crawl into a hole…to remind myself about this brave intention.

Insipid thought while working out...

2009-07-28T09:32:00.001-07:00

I exercise every day because if I'm turned by a vampire I wouldn't want to be flabby for all eternity.

Eating right...well...tryin'...

2009-07-27T16:04:00.000-07:00

I've been on a healthy eating kick. I'm always fighting extra weight (which at 46 and on so many hormones is a full-time job) but I'm trying to balance that out with eating in ways I've heretofore been fearful of for one reason or another.

I'm home roasting veggies. I'm waiting to put them in the oven. This is a "before" pic:

The thyme sitting on the veggies looks kinda gross in the picture...but trust me...they look fantastic in person!!

I'm cooking sweet potatoes right now...and they take a full hour...so I started those while I cut up all these gorgeous vegetables.

Life has a richness that it didn't before Victoria died. I have such gratefulness for my life and to have the opportunity to be here on a Monday afternoon with this lovely food.

We also finally have some tomatoes from our upsidedown garden. The cherry tomatoes are more plentiful than the larger ones...but here is the first of our harvest:

Job?...What job?

2009-07-27T10:49:00.000-07:00

Times are tough. It was clear I would reach this point. The writing was on the wall. Last November I lost one of my biggest clients. Soon after, it was apparent that my other biggest client had every intention of slowing down to a trickle.

I find myself in the position of needing a job. I haven’t been without a job since 1994. All my occupations since then have flowed freely one into the next. My life always seemed to take the next path smoothly.

Not so much now.

Times are tough.

It figures I’m looking for work in a job market I haven’t dealt with for 7 years...when unemployment is at it’s highest in decades...and I’m in transition.

I’m not sure where to turn or how to even start.

I have some ideas and I’m starting to network with friends. I am setting intentions and expecting to manifest a new path any second now.

But at this moment…time seems to stand still.

Hair today...more gone when I can afford it...

2009-02-04T12:10:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in a treatment room at Berman Skin Institute. In a little less than an hour I will get my 6th and last laser hair removal treatment under my arms.

It may sound extravagant to do under my arms considering most genetic females don't get that hair removed. But if you'd felt the IRBs I get when I shave there you would understand the commitment.

My life in the last few months continues to be routine and drama-free. That's a good thing. And despite a visit to Target where the woman guarding the dressing rooms sent me to the men's dressing room to try on women's clothes (!!!) things are bubbling along nicely.

I'm starting to notice more differences between men and women...even between me and Mark. That's to be expected, of course, and I get a little chuckles from these things. Observing them from inside a physical body that is now bathed primarily in estrogen makes me happy instead of tormented, which is the way it felt from inside that testosterone prison.

So...more pain soon...but less hair. A fair exchange. I'm just glad I got a headstart on all my hair removal before the economy went totally insane.

The week in-between...

2008-12-29T11:33:00.000-08:00

I can't believe Christmas is over already. I just didn't connect to it this year like I usually do. Maybe part of that was a form of self protection so the pain of missing my sister didn't get too intense.

And now I feel my mind turning to a new year in a big way. While Christmas didn't hit me as hard this year, think the New Year will hit me harder than usual. 2008 was a year of challenges and gifts. How do you describe a year that delivers not only the worst thing to ever happen to you...but also some of the best things?

It's not a "good" year...but certainly an Important one.

Here's to a happy new one for all of us.

I have a good feeling about it.

Little Drummer Kid...

2008-12-06T07:23:00.000-08:00

From an email my mother wrote:

"Every time the song The Little Drummer Boy comes on I think about you when you were 15 months old, sitting on the floor by the stereo and listening to that song...and tapping your head against the stereo in beat to it."

Umm...

I think I just discovered the moment to which I can trace my mental craziness.

Thanks, mom!

A small embrace from a clerk with something extra…

2008-11-25T14:00:00.001-08:00

I just returned home from Walgreen’s drug store. I needed a couple things and despite the fact that I was reticent about going I went anyway. I was hesitant because it’s a store where I’ve been shopping for 6 years...and there’s one woman who works during the weekdays with whom I have a cordial relationship. I normally see her when I shop at this store...she once sold me some foundation makeup. Since I was still deeply in the trans closet at the time I made sure to tell her I was an actor and I needed it for the stage. That was true, but I really didn’t owe her an explanation.

Whenever I see her we make small talk. She’s Asian and has an accent, so the communication is a little bumpy sometimes, but she’s very nice and she seems to light up when she sees me.

She has not seen me in full makeup and women’s clothes yet. I mean, it’s just jeans and a basic top…I’m not in a sequined gown or anything…but I’m definitely presenting female. I always hate to see that confused look on clerk’s faces. Most of my local stores are now aware…but Walgreen’s was one of my last stands.

So…I went to Walgreen’s because I really needed the stuff and I try never to avoid situations that I’m nervous about. There’s nothing to gain if you fear and don’t push forward in life.

When I walked in she was, typically, in view down the first aisle, which is the cosmetics aisle. I did not make eye contact. I went to the second aisle to look for something. After a couple minutes she came down my aisle. I think she saw me come in and wanted an encounter.

I looked up and said hello. She smiled and said hello. Then she said “I like your purse very much.” “Thank you,” I said and turned back to the shelf. But we were alone and she was right there so I said “You haven’t seen me like this yet. I’ve changed genders.”

“Oh, that’s good!” she beamed.

“Yes, it’s a good thing for me. I’m much happier.”

She walked over. She asked about my partner Mark. She repeated a few times how different I seemed and how nice I looked. I allowed myself to bask in her approval. I’ve learned to accept approval in a way I never really could as David.

She told me when I was done shopping to come to her and she would ring me up at the cosmetics counter. I finished shopping and did that. As she was bagging my items she said “The first time I saw you in here…the first time...I said to myself…if he was a woman he would be a beautiful woman. The FIRST TIME!”

“You must have sensed something about me,” I said.

Despite using the term "beautiful" perhaps a little too liberally, she was clearly tickled and seemed to feel validated.

“It’s good,” she said a final time.

“Yes...it is. It’s very good. I’ve wanted this since I was 4 years old. I waited until I was 45...but I finally got it. It’s a good, good thing.”

With that we said our goodbyes and I left on a cloud.

I don’t know what these things mean. I believe her when she says she had that thought about me. I had a teacher in high school who once told me she thought I would look good as a girl. What would make someone say that? It's odd, espeically since I worked so hard to hide those feelings.

These things used to haunt and tease me. I wanted to figure it all out (without actually figuring it out, if you know what I mean) and it made me a bit nuts. But now...finally embodied as Daya....it just feels like a pat on the back.

It’s a good, good thing.

Still kicking around…facing ghosts…

2008-11-25T09:44:00.000-08:00

I won’t even open this post with an apology for not posting until now. Let’s just get right to it…

Since New York, things have slowly and steadily calmed down. I’m in a period of routine….and it’s really wonderful. My life has been so insane for so many years it’s really nice to just work at home and do errands and see some movies and exercise…

I’ve been doing electrolysis on my face pretty regularly for a few months and I’m seeing progress. It still intensely painful (and expensive) but my mind and body have somehow found a way to deal with the pain. It’s been a real lesson in finding out how much pain I can tolerate. I’m pretty proud about it…and freakin’ RELIEVED. Electrolysis on my face was one of the major obstacles between me and transition. I just didn’t know how I could go through it. I had 3 hours of it back in 1991 and it was one of the reasons I stopped that transition in its tracks. So, to find the strength to endure it now is a feather in my cap.

Victoria’s spirit helps me with this. I lay on that table...needles stuck in my follicles again and again…my face on fire...feeling like my skin is turning inside out from the pain...

…and I think of all the pain Victoria went through. She endured all that torment…and she didn’t complain. She was very definite with me that I should proceed with transition and be myself. So, in her honor and memory, I lay there and find an inner strength I didn’t know I had. And I’m relieved.

I’ve been working on web work fairly consistently. It’s been good. The weather is finally cooling down and that’s fantastic.

I’ve been feeling nostalgic…no…more than mere nostalgia. I’ve been feeling healthy enough to face some of the ghosts of my past. I’ve been reaching out in emails to people from my past who I think I’ve harmed in some way. I guess it’s like my own 12 step program in a way. Mostly, my past is kind of a blur to me and I really want to put some of the pieces together.

Some have written back. Some haven’t. I don’t blame anyone if they don’t want to respond.

It’s been interesting and liberating to reach out. It makes me feel healthier and more grounded.

I wish I could have realized these things before turning 45 years old…but better late than never I suppose.

The world spins...much like my head...

2008-08-28T17:28:00.000-07:00

Well...as you can see, I had no time or energy to write a single blog post while in NYC.

People keep asking me how it was...and they look at me with a hopeful smile...waiting for joy to flow out of me.

But I seem to be disappointing people these days.

The experience in New York was important and intense and I wouldn't change it for the world. But it was hard. And at the end of it I am left exhausted...and barely able to think straight.

I miss my sister. This is the first time I've been quiet and still at home since she passed. The month after her death was filled with trips and memorials. And then one month after, we got word about Fringe, and the whole world blew up with stress.

It was hard.

And now I sit and realize I still don't have my sister.

A dear friend passed along a mantra today. I won't repeat it...but it's about slowing down. I think a slowing-down process is sadly lacking in my life.

And the good news? My legal name change will be official on September 16th. This will be a new birthday for me. I never thought the name change would mean so much...but it does...and it gives me something to look forward to.

Glam shots...and bye-bye Silicon Valley...for now...

2008-08-02T19:58:00.000-07:00

Well...I actually have a few free minutes before I leave for the airport.

I'm off on this weird adventure...and I want to once again thank all those who have rallied around and helped make this happen. I'm a lucky lucky person to have the family and friends and LIFE that I have. I don't take it for granted.

So...off I go...

BIG NEWS!!! On September 16th, 2008, my name will be legally changed to Daya Curley. I feel so ready for this. I couldn't imagine HOW I wouold be ready...but I am...and am a thousand percent sure. I can't wait...!!

And, on the "I-never-have-any-pictures-I-can-bear-to-show-anyone" front...I actually now HAVE a few now that I want to share.

My friend (and photog extraordinaire) Jami Davis generously took a few snaps before our BRITNEY fundraising party got underway.

Here she is WORLD...!!!

(and I promise to try to write from New York City)

Creativity? CHECK! Insanity? CHECK!

2008-07-02T10:13:00.001-07:00

Life has been a whole additional bucket of INSANE for the past few weeks.

My web work is plentiful...and preparations for taking BECOMING BRITNEY to New York are crushingly stressful and tedious sometimes. So far, we're meeting our deadlines and we're on track. We start rehearsals Monday. That's exciting, but also means I have to actually FINISH THE SCRIPT by Monday...!!!

Oy...

I'm excited about spending nearly a month living in the East Village. I'm also really eager to see the show in front of an audience that doesn't know us.

My transition is still moving along. I'm presenting more and more definitively as myself all the time and it just doesn't seem as big a deal anymore. I don't know if Victoria's death was a kick in the ass...or if I'm just getting bored with feeling insecure. Probably a little of both. I'm simply too busy to have time for hand-wringing. Plus I have SO much love and support and HELP from those around me. I would be nowhere with my hair and makeup without my dearheart Karie Bennett who owns Atelier SalonSpa at Santana Row.

Changing gender has indeed been (and will continue to be) a massive challenge...but I have to admit it's been less painful than I thought it would be. There are those crystalline moments of pure happiness...like a door standing open and a gorgeous cool breeze enveloping me. Finally.

I'm desperate to get my name change paperwork going. It just takes a lot of time...and time simply ain't something I have to spare these days. My goal is to have my name change done by the end of September. Then I won't have to be freaked when I have to show my license or credit card with the name David on it. It will help a LOT...!!

And even writing "David" is starting to seem weird to me. I sometimes sit and think about who I was and whether or not I have left parts of me behind (no jokes please, I haven't even had surgery YET)...and if I have, were they the negative, anxiety-filled parts...or did I lose some other essence too. The consensus from folks around me seems to be that I'm the same. Many are, in fact, surprised at how "the same" I am. I do feel basically the same...except for all the screeching turmoil that I became used to living with as part of my mindscape.

Jettisoning that crap has GOT to be a step in the right direction...!!

We will announce our 5 performance dates on Monday for the world premiere of BECOMING BRITNEY in New York City. How odd to even say that. My life is full of blessings…!!

Stay tuned...

Divas For Life 2008...

2008-06-04T17:09:00.000-07:00

I performed again this year in Molly Bell's annual DIVAS FOR LIFE benefit concert.

Usually I am the honorary male performer. This year I was promoted to DIVA for the first time.

It was a heady night. Lots of folks I haven't seen since I started transition...and also I am starting to rediscover who I am on stage. I'm not THAT different...and hopefully it works...

I had a blast...and I'd like to share the moment with you...

Your browser does not accept inline frames. To view this content select Daya at Divas For Life 2008

A video memorial...

2008-05-12T09:26:00.001-07:00

Running time = 11:28

The video may take a moment to load and start

Make sure your speakers are turned up

Click on a flower to start the video

Your browser does not accept inline frames. To view this content select Victoria Wallach Video Memorial

Nebraska, Texas, piles of food...and bathroom angst...

2008-04-22T07:51:00.000-07:00

Whew!

We’re back from our multi-city tour of the USA’s chewy nougat center.

We started our adventure by getting caught up in the American Airlines debacle. Our flight out was cancelled and we were put on a United flight. We still left at Dark O’clock but we routed through Denver instead of Chicago and actually wound up in Lincoln, Nebraska a few hours earlier than our original itinerary.

We stayed in Nebraska with Mark’s folks. This was our 3rd visit together to that city, and it has its charms. We ate lots of food…and visited family…and had huge meals…and did some antique shopping…and ate…and took a side trip to see Mark’s aunt…and stuffed ourselves…and marveled at snow flurries in April…and ate…and saw a drag show…and ate and ate and ate..

I had been a little perplexed about how to present my gender in the Midwest. I continue to move through a strange period where I’m perceived as both genders, sometimes within moments. I got “ma’amed” more in the Midwest than I ever have here in California, but it always came at unexpected times.

For example, Mark and I stopped for a Nebraska steak dinner at a place in a little town called York. I was wind blown and suffering the effects of allergies and the drowsiness brought on my allergy meds. I was also wearing no makeup.

I entered the restaurant assuming I would be perceived as a man and I was determined to not work toward tipping that scale. Our waitress was an older, gravel-voiced dame…the kind of movie diner cliché you might expect. She took my order and then turned to Mark and said “and for the Gentleman?”

She hadn’t actually said “ma’am” but the implication was there.

Another time I was called “ma’am” and “sir” in the same restaurant, masking me skittish about using EITHER bathroom.

While in Fort Worth, Texas…in a crowded cafeteria-style joint…a woman behind the counter said “There you go ma’am”. Also a floor manager used the word at the same place.

But the one group of people that made no effort to recognize my gender presentation was in a gay club in Lincoln. I was completely made up and still got called “guy” three times. I know gay people are generally more attuned to gender presentation, but why would gay people assume I was a man instead of a trans woman. I found it rather disrespectful.

I had many moments of feeling exposed and vulnerable. It was very warm at a Fort Worth art fair and my tee shirt didn’t do much to hide my small but obvious breasts. I wasn’t wearing makeup, so I sensed confusion almost everywhere we went. I decided to just go with it, but even that became a challenge a couple times. Mark and I were talking to one of the artists and I assumed he perceived me as a woman. But when Mark’s sister joined the conversation she said “If you need a website HE can help you.” The word hung in the air like stale smoke. I’m sure it felt more important to me than to anyone else, but I still made a hasty retreat. The 2nd punch line came moments later when I walked by another booth slightly ahead of Mark. I told the artist I liked his work and he said “Thank you, man.” The next second brought Mark and he said to the guy “She loves lots of color.”

It makes me feel schizophrenic. It’s also funny.

Getting out of town right after Victoria’s death was a Godsend. I think I’m more ready to start getting back to the business of my life.

I miss her like mad.

We had a really great and special time with our Midwest families. It was healing and nurturing.

I’m preparing for one more short trip on May 8th. I’ll be going to Michigan for the first of 2 memorials for Victoria. In addition, we’re celebrating my Grandmother’s b-day. I will see many aunts and uncles that I haven’t seen in a long time. Some of them may not know about my trans status.

For the time being I will revel in being at home and try desperately to lose some of the weight I gained by eating everything in sight for the last week.

On Sunday Mark and I went to our farmer’s market and had brunch and saw a movie. Our attempt to get back to our routine. At the cinema I walked into the men's bathroom and an older gentleman who was walking out stopped in his tracks and gawked at me. I think he saw me as a woman going in the wrong bathroom door.

Life will never be quite routine again.

And then she was gone...

2008-04-09T09:19:00.000-07:00

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve posted…and I know that many of you have been eagerly awaiting word about something…anything…

Things have been crazy sad the last few weeks.

My sister Victoria passed away around 2:10am on Thursday April 3rd.

It’s been an insanely hard week with family and friends. My parents literally just walked out the door to go back to Michigan. Mark left for work. This is the first time I’m left in silence since early last week.

Leukemia is a hideous, hateful, evil, disrespectful disease…and Victoria should not have been taken yet.

She was a bright energy in every life she touched. And we all should strive to keep alive her message of “Love, Love and Nothing But Love”…

I’ll be licking my wounds for a little while and then I'll try to get back to documenting other things.

Thank you for all the well wishes.

We've set up a donation page for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. We have reformed Team Victoria again this year to walk in the Light The Night fund raiser. It takes place on October 2nd in San Francisco. Last year with Victoria still here we raised $10,000. This year we would like to surpass that in her honor.

Here's the link:
http://www.active.com/donate/ltnSanFr1/2430_curleyco

Love, Love and Nothing But Love…

Victoria, Britney & Me...3 of the women in my life...

2008-02-15T07:54:00.000-08:00

I’m finally catching up a bit. The last few weeks have been intense.

Victoria is back home again…after being in the hospital again. It’s a roller coaster right now as to be expected with the chemo. I took video of her the other day for her blog.

The BECOMING BRITNEY reading couldn’t have been better. The audience had a blast…and we received lots of great comments and criticism. The reading did exactly what it needed to do for us. Also the cast, led by Molly was superb. I saw things from everyone that were new on that live stage. It was a wonder to watch.

I’ve posted a new video and some pics on the Britney website.

I’m still keeping my eyes open on the job front…but I’ve actually been too busy with my web clients to look for work...so I guess that’s a good thing.

My transition has been in a bit of a hold pattern. I still haven’t found an electrologyst. I also still haven’t gone shopping. I’m hoping both will happen within the next week.

I am getting more and more comfortable with myself, so that’s a good thing. Really…I think I’m just getting sick to death of feeling insecure…so instead of “getting used to” myself I think I’m “getting over” myself…

Either way, I’ll take it…

I am also getting increasingly curious glances…so I imagine without knowing it I’m throwing off more signals than I think.

It’s all good.

&#!**%*@ JAR DRAMA....!!

2008-01-31T17:11:00.000-08:00

It took me 10 minutes to open this freakin' jar...!!

Finally...at long last.......SHOES....!!!

2008-01-31T16:02:00.000-08:00

Picture this:

I have a party to go to this Saturday. I have ONE outfit that will be appropriate…thank God...so I guess I’m set with that. But the only pair of shoes I own are a pair of mules and they are highly inappropriate for the cold weather…and they are certainly not dressy.

I’m sorta limited in where I can shop for shoes. I can’t exactly go into stores because they don’t typically carry wide widths. My enormous feet are very wide at the toes…which…well…limits me.

So…I have been shopping for shoes at zappos.com. They have lots of styles and they have FREE RETURNS. I've purchsed and returned so many shoes I can’t count them.

This week I stepped it up…determined to get a pair for the party on Saturday. Lots of people from the theatre world will be there and meet me as Daya for the first time and I want to feel good about my presentation.

So I ordered and sent back shoes all week. I ordered 2 styles at a time…and since most of them came overnight I was able to try a lot of shoes.

And FINALLY…

I found a pair of basic black dress shoes that don’t make my feet look enormous and are also comfortable.

I’m thrilled…and SO relieved…

So now I have TWO pairs of shoes. Not enough, but a good start.

Another milestone or three…

2008-01-27T09:14:00.001-08:00

Well…I sorta faced the demons of being out fully as Daya.

I did my hair and makeup…and with the products and education I got on Friday it went really well. It was so odd riding with Mark to downtown San Jose, knowing there was no turning back. I had been out in public as Daya in San Francisco…but…well...San Jose is a different creature…

We were attending a surprise birthday party at a restaurant. I still didn’t know what I was going to do about the bathroom issue…but I decided to just not worry about it.

The restaurant was almost empty (since it was early) and we were shown to a back room. Very soon after Mark overheard that something was wrong with the kitchen and they were closing the place except for our party.

So…it was public…but very private… I’m not sure if it counts.

I did use the women’s bathroom. It was a single…so that wasn’t a problem either.

One of the waiters called me sir. I guess the next time I go to that restaurant I’ll need to wear a mini dress and heels…!! On the positive side, one friend who I haven’t seen in a while and was sitting at the other end of a long table commented to someone: I’ve never met David's sister…

Hee hee…silver lining...

Good, bad, worse...and WHAAAAA...!!

2008-01-26T07:28:00.000-08:00

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything…and I’ve been trying to put some thoughts together. I am so busy these days that it’s hard to pin any thought down long enough to put it to paper.

We launched the website for our musical. Please check it out:

www.becomingbritney.com

We are in a mad dash to finish the show for a number of deadlines. We are having a reading of the show so we can hear it out loud and see what works (and what doesn’t). We are also submitting the piece to 2 theatre festivals in New York. These deadlines are fast approaching…and we’ve got lots of matieral to write and put together to send with the script.

In case you haven’t heard, my sister Victoria’s leukemia has returned. She has some in her bone marrow and some in her blood. She’s staring a course of out-patient chemo starting Monday…and she will get another biopsy in 2 months to see if it’s helping. It’s very scary and upsetting…but we’re all trying to remain calm and move through it with positive attitudes.

I’m also trying to decide how to proceed with making a living. My free lance web work has dried up a lot…probably the economy…and I’m confused about how to go forward with a job search.

I’m not living full time as a woman…but I don’t use the name David anymore. I’m also not exactly masculine either…so I’m not sure how I would even present myself at an interview. Who could blame a potential employer from being a hesitant when I’m in such flux as a physical person?

But I have to do SOMEthing. Things are getting desperate. I need to meditate on it and ask friends for advice…and I’m sure it will all work out the way it’s supposed to.

I had a transition milestone last night:

I went to my friend’s fabulous salon/spa (http://www.atelieraveda.com) where she trimmed my hair…showed me how to deal with it...gave me a makeup lesson…and suggested products for my hair and face. It was great to have lots of questions answered and I’m sure it will help me greatly as I proceed. Thanks Karie…!!

But…I still have the bathroom thing that I have to conquer. If I’m going to a restaurant, which bathroom do I use? I’m not really sure how I’m perceived…so I’m not sure. Certainly if I’m in full makeup I won’t be comfortable in the men’s room. But some women get really weird if they perceive a man in their midst, not matter how he’s dressed. Some trans advice suggests that you go to the manager and tell them you are transgender and ask which bathroom they would like you to use. That just seems like unnecessary humiliation.

I guess if I’m with other women I could have them check first to make sure the place is empty.

It’s all such a pain in the ass, frankly. My friend Rebecca says it’s weird the first few times and then it gets easier.

Sometimes I get sick of every facet of my life being such an uphill battle. But I knew that would be the case going in…and these are the times I have to keep my eye on the prize.

Lastly, my weight is not budging. I’ve been working out 5 – 6 days a week for about 5 weeks now…and nothing…no progress. It’s infuriating…and now I know the frustration some women feel about men dropping weight with the blink of an eye. I’ll keep working out becuase I love the endorphins and it’s good for my blood pressure…but…COME ON…!!!

Its record low temps…it’s rainy…and I also have a cold…

And that all sounds so complain-y. I think that’s why I haven’t posted in a while. I feel like bitching all the time. Stress no doubt. Hopefully posting this will help exorcize some of those demons.

I'll try to be better about postsing.

Short but sweet...

2007-12-28T05:54:00.000-08:00

I don't have time for a whole blog post...but there's a little milestone I want to acknowledge.

I turned in paperwork to my union Actor's Equity to change my name...and I got a temporary card. I was also just informed via email that my gender has been changed officially in the records for the union.

I'm feeling ever more official.

I'll be looking in the next few weeks into changing my name legally.

Neat!

Happy Holidays…

2007-12-24T05:45:00.001-08:00

I love Christmastime. Love it.

But I don’t know where time went this year. Things have been crazy and I got to almost none of my usual traditions…although I did manage to our little tree up the day after Thanksgiving. That was yesterday, right?

Oy…

So my best wishes are with you as we head into yet another year…!!

Of mermaids and strong-armed women…

2007-12-18T14:18:00.001-08:00

Things are crazy this time of year, so I have been lax in posting.

Forgive?

I’ve been working out at Pam & Ada’s gym every weekday morning. I feel great…and if I can be patient and keep it up I might actually see some results. Or…at least maybe I won’t gain weight over the holidays.

Maybe?

I want to share a theory about something.

Here's some background that influenced my thought pattern…

Not too long ago there was an episode of 20/20 called MY SECRET SELF. They profiled 3 trans kids. The most stunning story was that of a young trans girl named Jaz. In the program her mother talks about how this child loves mermaids....and in fact, that many young trans girls are attracted to mermaids. You can probably imagine why…and you can see that part of the 20/20 show below:

I was never attracted to mermaids. But…I loved (and still love) the Statue of Liberty. I encountered a color aerial shot of Liberty Island in an encyclopedia when I was very young and I was mesmerized by the image. And thanks to the Internet...here's the actual picture which I hadn't seen myself in about 30 years.

I realized earlier this year that I have spent my life surrounded with images of that monument. This strong, almost masculine female image fascinated me. I was never quite sure why…and I’m still only theorizing. But now…in the midst of transition…a strong female who stands for liberation is one helluva good role model. And she makes a great guardian angel.

In addition, one of my favorite images has always been the famous Rosie The Riveter "We Can Do It" poster. Another fabulous strong-armed woman.

And now, here as evidence, are pics from our living room…

***********************************************************************

This one is the most important and influential for me. She hung on the basement wall as I grew up. I never consciously paid much attention to her…but she was always there…and when I moved away I realized how much I loved her.

Is she a drag queen? A tough broad? Who knows…I just love her strength and determination.

Next is a poster I found stored behind some stuff in the basement stairwell when I lived with Michael in San Francisco. It’s made of cardboard...and it’s a BEER AD…!!! But I think it’s beautiful.

And most recently, Mark bought me this gorgeous print and had it framed for us.

And then there’s Maude…I mean Rosie…

So, what does it mean?

I dunnoh...

But it sure is nice to finally feel true liberation. That enormous green metal lady should be proud.

Also: Mark found this cool old stamp the other day which I plan to scan, enlarge, print and hang on the wall right alongside the rest of those beefy-limbed ladies.

And one last thing: I have been really touched by the comments you've left on this blog. I wasn't even sure anyone would READ the thing, let alone offer such nice sentiments.

When you leave a comment please make sure to put your name in the message. There are a couple comments where I don't recognize the user (for example: "Chiron"). I'd like to be able to acknowledge y'all and lavish love on you too...so more info please...!!

My hormones are ajar...

2007-12-06T17:13:00.000-08:00

I just want to say that even though I love the effects fo the hormones...it would be nice if I could still open a friggen JAR...!!

Just had to vent.

Better days...

2007-12-06T12:51:00.000-08:00

Monday was bad…but each day since has gotten better.

First off…my sister Victoria was released from the hospital yesterday evening. There's nothing too major going on with her health. It was the flu. And she’s feeling better.

Whew!

My dear friends Ada and Pam opened a women’s fitness center a few months ago. Last week Pam started saying I should come work out. I desperately need the exercise…but I was hesitant about my gender status. I’m at a weird in-between state where I’m presenting fairly androgynously. I can pass in “boy mode”…but would my appearance in the gym make any of the members nervous or offended? To their amazing credit, the reaction from both Pam and Ada was “Don’t worry about it.” Besides, they explained, there are usually no members there in the first hour or so after they open at 8:00am.

Ok…so I swallowed hard and went on Tuesday morning.

After helping them deal with a major leak in the ceiling (which was supposedly fixed after the LAST rain, thank you very much…) I did a cardio class with Pam and then Ada showed me the ropes on the circuit.

It felt great…and I’ve gone every morning since.

I have met 3 of the members who have arrived while I was still working out. I was introduced as Daya, of course…and so far as I know, the world didn’t collapse on itself. I wasn’t arrested. And no one yelled at me or physically harmed me.

It’s been a revelation. And it’s been nice.

I’m so grateful to these women who are helping to make an important part of my journey no big deal. I’m really lucky to know them and to have their love and support.

And also this week...the absolutely true reality that I'm getting old:

I got my first pair of reading glasses yesterday…!!

They are a really light prescription…and only for reading…and only close up…but they’re glasses and it’s another first.

And yet one more first…a pic of me on this blog…from this morning…wearing my reading glasses. I was ready to leave for the gym.

This week started out tough. But today…through the rain and gloom outside…I feel wonderful inside. I feel good and right and steady…and on the correct path.

It’s a day to feel blessed.

A bad day...

2007-12-03T15:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes those Mondays just seem surreal...

Today is one of those days.

Nothing I do seems to click...driving...web design...errands…

And most importantly...my sister called to say she's being readmitted to the hospital. She's not feeling well at all...and the doctors have to figure out what's going on.

It's very scary and very stressful.

Please send her your healing energies in prayer or whatever form that takes for you.

Most days have been great...but sometimes everything just seems to crash...and this is one of those days.

I feel old and fat and stupid for attempting this gender change. These feelings happen less and less as I go along...and I can be grateful that I don't feel like this 24-7-12-365 like I used to. But I also have to recognize the low moments.

I honor this low moment...and I'm writing about it so I can look back and see how smart I was for pushing through it rather than giving in to the darkness. I used to let this swing of the pendulum dictate my actions. Now I recognize it as the insecurity and superficiality that it is.

I saw my doctor the other day and everything is great with my blood work. I've added progesterone to my hormone regimen. I've also doubled my spiro (an androgen blocker). I'm happy about diving deeper. I just wish I could look in the mirror and see the right person looking back.

As I said...surreal.

These are thoughts I usually keep to myself. But I promised I would not edit myself...and I want to document everything important.

I'm looking into legal name change...and while I can probably change my name...it will be harder to change my gender flag (especially on my birth certificate) without surgery. And since I can't see when I'll have the funds for that kind of thing, the whole endeavor sorta falls a little short.

I've read lots of stuff tht says you should not undertake a gender change if there's ANY other way to live in your birth gender. It's just so hard and expensive and time consuming.

But...I'm sure...

...and I'm determined.

I just HAVE to feel some authenticity before I die.

I've had weird dreams the last few nights. Last night I had to force myself to completely wake up around 2:00am because my dream (whatever is was) was so horrible that I didn’t want to fall right back to sleep and right back into it. But the night before last I woke up laughing.

Weird.

It’s a bit of a roller coaster the last few days.

But it makes me feel better to write this…to share…

More than a woman...

2007-11-27T14:44:00.000-08:00

There are lots of exciting things going on in my life. My gender transition is a big one…but not the only one.

I made the decision a year ago to stop performing. I knew I would have to do so in order to transition. Being a union performer puts me in heavy competition for very few jobs in the Bay Area…and I am not prepared or interested in trying to compete as an female actor. I’ve been performing for almost 6 years…and it’s been glorious, but it’s time to move on to other endeavors.

Having said that, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay away from performing completely. I do love to sing. But…the hormones I take will never change my baritone voice…so…well…I don’t really know what to do with that.

I’ve always wanted to write a musical…and now I have the opportunity. Earlier this year my friend Molly Bell and I began brainstorming ideas we might develop into a live show. We talked for a few weeks about a sketch-type stage project…but that kept hitting dead ends.

There was a kernel of an idea slithering around in Molly's brain about a Britney Spears-like pop performer. She approached me with an idea for a full length show about Britney herself…and she invited me to collaborate with her. We started working on it last February and haven’t stopped since.

The show we’re writing is called BECOMING BRITNEY. We've finished the general outline and shape of the show. We have the songs and know what happens over the 90-minute length. We also just recently…like yesterday…finished a few demo recordings.

Molly and I are co-writers…co-producers…co-directors…and she will star in the show. We’re hoping to do a staged reading workshop of the show in February…and at some point soon we want to mount the show for real.

It’s all very exciting…and fun…and really really creatively satisfying.

We had some invaluable musical assistance at the very beginning from the fabulous Billy Liberatore. And since then we’ve been working with Matt Hohensee, who has assisted us in forcing the scattered thoughts in our heads into some kind of sense on the keyboard and on paper. Matt has done a Herculean job of making it so…and also tolerating what I call my “maelstrom of specificity”, which leaves the weak-hearted feeling like they want to run a spike through their temple.

I'm very specific.

I should also publicly thank Katie Coleman...Matt's lovely partner...for putting up with us and even jumping in and lending hand and voice when necessary.

So…along the way you’ll be hearing about this project as well.

In fact, here’s a preview of one of the demo recordings. This is called “My I Want Song”. I’ve printed the lyrics below so you can follow along. Be patient...the player may take a few moments to load depending on your Internet connection speed.

Enjoy!

“My I Want Song” from BECOMING BRITNEY
Copyright 2007 Molly Bell and D Curley

THIS IS THE TIME IN MY STORY
WHERE I MANAGE TO BREAK IT ALL DOWN
IT IS HERE AT THIS POINT
WHERE I LEARN FROM MISTAKES
IT IS HERE IN THE STORY THAT YOU GET A TASTE OF ME

THIS IS THE TIME IN MY STORY
CAUSE IT'S ABOUT THE THIRD OR FOURTH SONG
IT IS HERE AT THIS PLACE
WHERE YOU START TO CRY CAUSE MY BEAUTIFUL VOICE IS MELODIC AND FLIES

I NEED AN I WANT SONG
SOMETHING COOL AND LIGHT AND GAY
AN I WANT SONG
TO SEND MY TROUBLES ON THEIR WAY

CAUSE IN A MUSICAL YOU NEED A SONG
THAT MAKES YOU SWOON AND HUM ALONG
AN I WANT SONG
WHERE IS MY I WANT SONG?

I'M JUST LIKE THOSE OTHER HEROES
DREAMED A DREAM WITH BANNERS UNFURLED
LIKE ANNIE YEARNED FOR TOMORROW
AND ARIEL LONGED TO BE LEGGY
AND PART OF OUR WORLD

LIKE FRAULEIN MARIA WANTED ALL OF THOSE CHILDREN
TO LOOK UP TO HER, NOW I SEE
THAT I'M MUCH LIKE THEM AND I NEED FIND
A WAY TO PORTRAY IN THREE MINUTES OR MORE
MY HARD KNOCK AND CONFIDENT AND
LOVERLY DESIRE TO BE FREE

I NEED AN I WANT SONG
TO DESCRIBE INTERNAL STRIFE
AN I WANT SONG
TO GIVE MY FANTASY A LIFE

I NEED A SONG THAT MAKES THE PUBLIC DANCE
AND GIVES ME MY DESERVING CHANCE
AN I WANT SONG
WHERE IS MY I WANT SONG?

AND THE MUSIC STARTS TO SOAR
AND YOU FEEL THE EXCITEMENT RISE
I AM BELTING WAY UP HIGH
WATCH ME BRIGHTEN UP MY EYES

BET YA HAVEN'T HEARD ME SING LIKE THIS
WELL THERE'S A LOT ABOUT ME YOU DON'T KNOW
I'LL FIND MY I WANT SONG
I EXPLORE MY FEELINGS AND START TO GROW

I GUESS THE TIME IS HERE
YOU CAN FEEL THE MUSIC START TO PUMP
I TELL YOU ABOUT MY FEAR
HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS SLUMP
AS THE CHORDS BEGIN TO CHANGE
I TELL YOU WHAT I'M TRYING TO BE

YOU MAY THINK IT STRANGE
A GIRL LIKE ME HAS ALL AND MORE
IT'S TIME I REARRANGE
PRIORITIES DOWN TO MY CORE
WATCH ME ARTICULATE
I FEEL SO ALIVE AND FREE

I SEE IT, I HEAR IT
I HEAR IT, I SEE IT
I SEE IT AND HEAR IT
I FOUND IT, MY SONG!
I FOUND MY I WANT SONG
IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I SAY
MY I WANT SONG
AND YOU'LL LISTEN ANYWAY
CAUSE IN THIS MUSICAL THIS IS A SONG
TO MAKE YOU SWOON AND HUM ALONG

AS I DISCUSS MY FUTURE FATE
NOW AS THE MUSIC STARTS TO POUR
I WILL NO LONGER HESITATE
I'LL BE THE GIRL I'M LOOKING FOR
LOOKING FOOOOOOORRRRR

GIRL SHE’S LOOKING, LOOKING FOR!

THIS IS HER I WANT SONG
IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT WE SAY
THIS IS HER I WANT SONG
WE'RE SECONDARY ANYWAY
CAUSE IN A MUSICAL YOU NEED A SONG
TO MAKE YOU SWOON AND HUM ALONG
SEE IN A MUSICAL THERE COMES A TIME
TO DISTRACT YOUR MINDS WITH SIMPLE RHYMES
AND IN THIS MUSICAL, WHICH IS ABOUT THAT GIRL

THIS SONG'S MY PROMISE TO TAKE ON THE WORLD
I FOUND MY I WANT SONG
ARE YOU CRYING YET?

OKAYYYYYYY!

And one last thing...I love Corrinne madly...!! She knows what that means...

Today is, in fact, another Daya...

2007-11-20T18:57:00.000-08:00

SEVERAL more Dayas actually...!

As I suspected, many of you have offered your own blog titles...and I want to share them here.

Before I go any farther I have to give some credit to my partner Mark for riffing the original list with me on a long walk the other night. When I didn't credit him in yesterday's post, he threatened (ever so gently) to never walk with me again. So, thank you my love...!!

I hadn’t included everything from the original list. Here are the dregs:

Here toDaya, gone tomorrow
The good old Dayas
As honest as the Daya is long
Call it a Daya
Forever and a Daya
I wasn’t born yesterDaya
Naked as the Daya you were born
Groundhog Daya
Bright as Daya
Clear as Daya
One Daya my prince will come
The living Dayalights
Save it for a rainy Daya
Shall I compare thee to a summer's Daya

And here are some offerings from you brilliant people. I won’t use names in case y’all don’t want to be listed here. You’ll know who you are…

DAY-a! Me say Day, me say Day, me say Da-a-a-a-ya!
(dayalight come, and me wanna go home...)

Daya The Dead

Around the World in 80 Dayas

Dayas of Our Lives

Long Daya's Journey Into Night

Oh Happy Daya

Great Daya in the morning!

Happy Dayas are here again!

What a difference a Daya makes

I have always Daya-pended on the kindness of strangers

All Daya all night, Maryann

Ok…

We’re done?

That was fun.

I should also point out a comment sent to me by my brother-in-law. I had opened the blog by saying “I'm not sure spilling one's guts in a public diary is the best way to leave a legacy.”…to which he replied “Well you could always password protect it.”

I presented BS as philosophy and he called it BS. Keep me honest, people…!! That’s what I need.

I was in San Francisco today for my last regularly scheduled therapy session. I never thought I’d feel it, but I just have no urgent issues to work out these days. There’s the usual “accepting myself” bullshit…but that’s coming…slowly…and it needs to come from within me anyway.

So…I’m on my own…the mistress of my own domain. And, as I’ve recently discovered in a major way…I’ve got all of YOU as well. I am emboldened by your love and I can’t fail…!!

What's in a name...?

2007-11-19T06:33:00.000-08:00

First off, I'm not even sure why I'm blogging. While I'm a person who is open about her life and adventures (anything for a good story) I'm not sure spilling one's guts in a public diary is the best way to leave a legacy.

I also don't want this to be just one more meditation on a gender transition...although that's a subject always in need of more teachers.

In the end I've decided to let this space become what it will in an organic manner. I will strive to not go overboard on the self-editing...and I will also pledge to not be maudlin.

If I fail in either of these tasks I count on any possible readers to let me know. We'll discuss.

Who the hell will be reading this bloody thing anyhow?

Whatever.

I wanted this first post to be about names. My new name...and the name of this blog...

What's in a name? It's kinda like getting a tattoo in that it should be a name you plan on keeping for a while, right? It's all about branding, babies. We are all our own PR machines these days. Yes?

So...earlier this year...with this self-imposed pressure...I set out to once and for all (and finally) choose a feminine name for myself. I had started transition in the past...back in 1991. I was 28 and a cigarette smoker (a potentially deadly thing when taking massive amounts of estrogen)...and I partied pretty hard...all in an effort to force myelf through transition without having to actually think about it or deal with the assiociated emotional pain that I assumed would consume me. I backed off transition at that time before I had the necessity to choose a new moniker.

Now, I had to do it for reals. So I buckled in…

I have always had a few rules about naming myself:

1. The name had to start with a "D"
2. It had to have 2 syllables
3. The first syllable had to have a long "A" sound
4. I couldn't know anyone with the same name (lest someone think I named myself after them)

My "slave name" (as my friend refers to it) does not have a natural feminine equivalent...unless you consider Davida a good name. And I don't.

Anyhoo…long story short…I eventually landed on “Daya”. It sorta spoke to me and while at least one friend (and my aunt Peggy) expressed disagreement with the choice, I decided to test drive it.

Then I Googled the word.

Turns out, according to Wikipedia, it’s a word in the Sikh religion meaning Compassion...one of five essential qualities including Truth, Contentment, Humility and Love.

I was sold…

...and now it feels like a natural part of me…much more quickly than I would have imagined. No one really refers to me as David anymore unless by accident. It’s been a smoother part of my transition thus far than I thought it might be.

Wheeee...!!

The second and last part of this post is about a much less important naming issue:

What to call this blog?

Of course, lots of titles presented themselves immediately…

One Daya at a time
Daya by Daya
Dayas of Wine and Roses
Daya in and Daya out
This is the Daya
Red letter Daya
I wasn’t born yesterDaya
All in a Daya’s work
Tomorrow is another Daya
Eight Dayas a week
A Daya late and a dollar short
Night and Daya
In this Daya and age
Make my Daya!
Rome wasn’t built in a Daya
Bad hair Daya
Another Daya another dollar
That’ll be the Daya
No Daya but toDaya
Have a nice Daya
A hard Daya’s night
Hump Daya
Never put off until tomorrow what you can do toDaya
Seize the Daya
A cold Daya in hell
Just one of those Dayas
Queen for a Daya
Same shit, different Daya
Thank God it’s FriDaya
Broad Dayalight
Rain, rain go away; come again some other Daya
If ifs and buts where candy and nuts, every Daya would be Christmas
ToDaya is the first Daya of the rest of your life

But…now that I’ve got that out of my system…I’m going with the sublimely simple DAYA THE BLOG.

Now go outside and play…!!