7:29 a.m. - Saturday, Jun. 29, 2002
Ms Leslie lives a whole day
Yesterday was. All things considered, not a terrible day. It started out to be terrible when I went to the VA eye clinic at 0930 for a 1000 appointment. I cooled my heels along with 30 or so other patients in the waiting room for two and a half hours before I finally just gave up and left. After the first hour and a half, I had asked the desk person if my file was in the lineup. She told me it was in the back and would be called soon. Yeah�. Right.
I had a 1300 hair appointment, so I left at noon and stopped by Wendy�s to check out their new salads. I ordered a mandarin chicken salad. It was delicious.. every thing they claimed it would be. The lettuce was as fresh as it would be in the finest restaurant and there were plenty of fixin�s included. The downside is that all that flavor comes at a heavy price in calories. I could have had a bacon burger for the same calories I think.
My hair appointment was fun, as usual. Sherrie, my stylist is a beautiful girl. She�s very tall and slender, with medium length blonde hair. She always wears the nicest, most feminine clothes and they hang on her just wonderfully. But I think what makes her most beautiful is her sense of self assurance. She�s good at what she does and she knows it. Her attitude is outgoing and friendly too. Anyway, I think she�s really understanding what I need. Yesterday when I told her I�m still having trouble making bobby pins work for me, she gave me a brush and had me follow along as she did her own hair. She watched me and told me every move to make with my hands to get a twist in the back and pin it in place. Verrrry simple stuff. She�s got a lot of patience.
After my appointment, I stopped by the bank machine at the mall to get some pocket money. Sherrie cleaned me out. Then.. since I was right there anyway, and even though I had said I must not shop anymore for a while, I walked down to Lane Bryant to see if they had a decent strapless bra to wear under the shear peasant blouse I bought a couple of weeks ago but can�t wear without a strapless bra. It�s just a little �too� see through. They actually did have a strapless bra in a size that might fit�.. 44 �B�, but at 30 dollars, I decided to pass it up. Besides, it had a lot of padding and seemed awfully stiff. But I couldn�t pass up the chance to buy a couple more pairs of shorts that I like, and another sleeveless top. That, plus a belt set me back almost 90 dollars. So much for my resolve. I should buy this stuff through the catalogs. It�s so much cheaper. But when I try things on and like the way they look, I�m just hopeless. I can�t let go of anything.
Finally, I stopped at Sally�s Beauty Supply and picked up another brush, a rat-tailed comb, and a french twist comb to see if that would make it any easier to keep a twist in my hair. There went another twenty bucks� but I can�t help it. I love getting things like this for myself.. and no one�s going to get it for me, that�s for sure.
Karen came over for her regular Friday night visit. She had worked herself into thinking she was sick. She asked me to feel her forehead while she stood there clutching her stomach as if she throw up all over my carpet at any moment. So I took her temperature (98.4) and gave her a Coke, telling her it would settle her stomach. Within moments, she was miraculously cured. Call me Clara.
Karen is the somewhat TS neighbor who lives a couple of doors down from me in the apartment complex. I say somewhat because she seems to lack the commitment to get truly started. She�s already in her late fifties and dreams of transition, but she�s too afraid of the reactions she might get from her family, friends, or even people on the street. She�s so paranoid because some high school kids called her a fag in 1991 that she�ll drive eight blocks out of her way to avoid a spot where she once saw some children on the street. She lives as a man, of course, but has a fixation on using progesterone cream made from soy on her hands, face and chest. She likes to imagine that she can see some feminization, but honestly.. there�s nothing. At the same time she�s spending hundreds on progesterone cream, she refuses to consider just getting on a program of hormone treatment. It�s too scary for her. She says maybe once her mother dies� But her mother already knows Karen�s feelings and is accepting of them. So she continues to live as a man; going as a woman only to her therapist twice a month and to the GGA meetings in New Orleans once a month. In the meantime, she comes to see me and tells me how much she wishes she could be like me and how she dreams of being a woman, etc etc. I�ll be honest� sometimes I lose my patience with her. I tell her she should either go full out with hormones or else leave the progesterone cream alone. She wants to feminize but she doesn�t want to feminize. She needs to make a choice. But� she�s also concerned about me. She watches the parking lot and if my truck doesn�t move for a day or two, she comes to check on me. If it disappears for more than a day, then she worries about me until I come home again. How can I be mad at her knowing that? I really can�t. I have to just accept her without judgement and allow her to be herself. It�s what I want for me, so why shouldn�t I be willing to give it to her?
So, bottom line: Yesterday lasted all day. I love it when that happens. I went to bed tired and slept a solid five hours.. that�s almost like a full night�s sleep. I�d like to do more of that. Maybe I�m at thebeginning of a new trend, huh?
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