ALTHOUGH I’M a voracious reader, it may come as a slight surprise that my adventures into triathlons started with a fiction novel. Two years ago, after two of my operations, I read a Mystery/Thriller by Don Travis, called The Zozobra Incident. It attracted me because
IN THREE years, I’ve moved, changed jobs, published a book, joined clubs, left clubs, made friends, and lost friends. Sometimes it’s hard to remember only five years ago I believed there were no options other than living and dying as an unhappy female. Unlike my
I’VE BEEN a bit absent from my blog lately. Apologies. The holidays are always a stressful time for me, because I’ve been working retail for the last decade and it’s also Rand’s birthday (on Christmas). This year I spent most my time between work shifts
[Content Warning: Suicidal Ideation.] YESTERDAY I died. It was four in the morning when I walked to my favorite bridge with a gun in my pocket. I hated mornings, especially cold mornings, but I was still drunk from the night before so I wasn’t really
LAST SUMMER I was out of commission due to three surgeries, so this summer I started out with a trip to Scotland and Ireland, where I had the time of my life in Islay, and was blown away by the hospitality of the Irish people.
Another year has passed since I’ve been on testosterone and–wow–a lot has happened, so bear with me. Hair I have a stomach pelt, sideburns, chin scruff, and a shitty mustache, which I keep at 5 mm unless I’m feeling lazy. Of course I want a
IF YOU’RE a woman, you’re a woman. Who cares what other people think?” My ex avoided my gaze. “It doesn’t really work that way.” The conversation with my ex was mostly exasperating. She transitioned before I did, and I didn’t understand her at the time.
When I dated my ex-girlfriend, she was identifying as male. She told me when she was in her teens her father had innocently exposed himself to her on several occasions, in normal father-son behavior, such as when they urinated together or changed in locker rooms.
A few years ago I made acquaintances with a man who professed to having a very low emotional register. To fully understand what he was feeling he had to listen to music, otherwise he didn’t know. My first reaction to this information was confusion–how could