Take A Letter, Maria...

C---------------- Csus2 - C
I'm moving to Ve ------ gas,

--------------------------F6 -- F
Gonna have me a good time,

Fmaj7 -------------G ----- G6
Makin' changes in my life,

C6 -------------- F6 --- G7 ------- C
Keeps gettin' better all of the time.

Almost There...

$300 gets me a one-way ticket to Vegas, a car for a week, and a hotel room overlooking the city for two nights.

So we're really leaving...

Getting Closer!

A victory of sorts... That place on the 29th floor? Guy turned out to be a jerk toward trans-folk, however the good news is that his problem didn't affect me at all... I was just really bummed to lose the opportunity to scour the gym and pool for potential roommates.

Moved the bulk of my stuff into storage. It feels good to get exercise!

Came home, applied for 10 or so jobs in Vegas and printed out some housing leads (5 Vegas, 2 Vancouver, 1 Amsterdam) for quick access/memory when I get off the plane.

Yes, that's right... gonna live out of a suitcase for a while until I find a good spot. I think Vegas for the next 3 months, and unless I find a perfect spot, probably Vancouver next, but perhaps Amsterdam en route to Italy. Maybe all three!

Now that my stuff is stored, I'm finally starting to get excited about traveling, which is a welcome change from the fear acquired after my 2 1/2 year stint in the midwest.

Breakdown!

I can't find a solution. Less than a week to go and I got nothing that even "seems like a good idea at the time." Seriously starting to freak out! Moving to a desert at the start of the summer season seems like madness.

A friend said, "you'll get into survival mode, you'll know what to do."

Perhaps; but what if "survival mode" is telling you to give up? I feel like I got into survival mode back in London and haven't been able to get off Defcon 1. Oh wait, wrong decade, I meant "terror alert level: severe"

I'm not sure there's any more will left. I'm not sure I care about tomorrow. Even a plant needs a sunny day. For all my accomplishments, I can't help but feel I've failed miserably on the human front, and now, whether or not it be true, I feel like I'm facing a long, hard winter alone with no provisions.

Not everyone sees it this way. My friend used words like "enjoy" followed by "adventure." Practical optimism. It might work. Would an optimist going to hell at least enjoy the journey there? Would doing so stifle preparations and only make the final decent worse, or would such an act of faith redeem? Is it possible for the fervent to fear the path to heaven?

The possibility of complete and total collapse is now very real.

Well, I still have a dream and I've gone this far... no point in looking back now!

Rules To Live By

I have a theory that life can be most fulfilled by following and applying a small set of rules, perhaps no more than five, to every circumstance.

Right now, I only have three.

For every situation, encourage a positive outcome.
(2008)

See the beauty (God) in everyone and everything.
(2007)

Leave places better than you found them.
(2006)

This last one might be more of a procedure than a rule, and since it doesn't apply to every life situation, I won't include it as a rule. Nevertheless, seems like good advice.

Every time life offers a lesson, write it down.
(2008)

I suppose it goes without saying that if you encounter the same lesson more than once, then you should try a little harder to apply it.

Miracle Of Life

Evolving from the bottom of the sea to land, to air, to space... isn't it all the same thing?

From single-cells, to fish, to fish with lungs, and then limbs, to reptiles, then mammals and us... our history leaves me in awe.

From lifeforms that turn sunlight to energy, to ones who turn the latter into energy, and to ones who turn those into energy! Nevermind lifeforms that need not sunlight- they turn sulfuric acid into energy. How can life not be elsewhere?

So what I'm high... it's 4-20! ;)

Bill Maher Is Going To Hell

Bill... you gotta enlighten yourself and drop the bit about otherwise intelligent people believing in talking snakes; it demeans your intelligence! Please, let me, as a scientist, present some facts in a way that a logical, rational man like yourself can hopefully accept.

• Hell is literally 50 miles below us. We float on a ginormous ball of fire - so big and glowing so long as to be close enough to be infinite and eternal to pre-21st century minds.
• Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. You are the composed from the product of ashes from this fire, millions of years' worth of dead organic matter, and water. You will return to this same dust.
• Heaven is through us. Jesus Christ said Heaven is through him, but it is accepted by the church that Christ can be found in each of us. Meditation gurus, Buddhists, and Taoists know that in order to become enlightened, we must also first look within ourselves. Whether you call that inward direction analysis seeking God or Jesus, following your Tao, or meditation, the process is the same no matter what you call it. When you get to the summit, dismount your donkey. It matters not how you got there... it matters you are there.
• Creation myths are difficult to accept. Because we don't have the language to describe the insights achieved through spiritual meditation or deep intellectual thought, they are often difficult to grasp and lend themselves to what seem logically impossible things. Which is harder to believe... at some point a snake could communicate (as one animal to another still can today) or that the whole of creation - the Earth, the solar system, the Universe was contained on the head of a pin? We don't even have models of physics which explain the later, yet this is what is commonly believed! Would not angels dance on such a pinhead?
• The Bible's stories are not incompatible with science's stories. Evolution could be the biological process manifest from the will of God. Before the big bang, there was nothing until something (we don't know what) said, "let there be light!"Science has more unexplained than it has explained, and to guide that gap in knowledge, the best we have is the word from our ancient fathers... which must have some levels of truth to survive this long. (Do you think your show will be in the public consciousness 10,000 years from now?)
• Being spiritual does not mean believing dogma in lieu of the meaning of the message. Nor is it wise to understand the text literally in a context far removed from its creation.
• Our most gifted and famous scientists were not atheist, evidenced by a lifetime of their writings and quotes. The scientists most responsible for enlightening our world believed in some sort of God. Some of my favorites include
• Blaise Pascal: "There are two kinds of people one can call reasonable: those who serve God with all their heart because they know him, and those who seek him with all their heart because they do not know him."
• Albert Einstein: "I believe in Spinoza's God who reveals himself in the orderly harmony of what exists, not in a God who concerns himself with the fates and actions of human beings."
• Newton: "It is the perfection of God's works that they are all done with the greatest simplicity. He is the God of order and not of confusion. And therefore as they would understand the frame of the world must endeavor to reduce their knowledge to all possible simplicity, so must it be in seeking to understand these visions."

Please, continue to be funny, but use your powers for good... make fun of human folly from politicians and entertainment artists, but don't spread seeds of disrespect toward a creator. Whether to you the Bible is a history book, the word of God, or a children's book matters not, for all are true, but please understand that your views and opinions, like it or not, will shape the minds of millions.

The more science tells us about our world, the more in awe I personally become from the miracle of life. If more people understood this, surely it would go a great way toward making this planet truly Heaven on Earth.

Overwhelmed...

Worried depression might be taking hold. 14 hours of sleep yesterday and it was still an effort to get out of bed. Worse, the dreams were not productive; they were restless, unresolved mini-dramas. I can only hope that this was the physical manifestation of my sub-conscious working overtime to find a path through this tangled web of space-time that solves my housing crisis.

Clearly, I'm worried, and on top of this, the warm weather is prompting clothing styles which do not necessarily lend themselves well to sustaining my illusion of womanhood. Or maybe they do, it would seem reasonable my self-image radar is off given the current life stressors.

Craig's list has been ... illuminating. I've been thankful to get many replies to my post seeking a room, but less fortunate in finding someone who has to offer what I asked for. Seems a lot of people have bought houses out there with the intention of renting them out. Neighborhoods of streets cul-de-sac into forms more resembling bronchial passageways than homes. Seriously, check it out for yourself! Miles and miles of nothing but residential housing.

Ike is the best opportunity thus far... a meticulous, 40 year-old drug-free European living just over a mile West from South LV Blvd. Lives in a neighborhood called Valley View VII. Creative name. He is fond of sending me photos of himself mixed in with the house. I guess this is appropriate, as I'd probably see his face if I lived there. Here's where he lives.

Mystery man has exactly what I want... a room on the 23rd floor of a high-rise condo one block West of the strip. But he's gone strangely silent after getting a photo, much like I do when they ask me for photos in my swimsuit, although again, using Ike-logic, since they have houses with pools, I suppose it's not an unrealistic, if pig-headed, desire.

Speaking of boys who want swimsuit photos, LJ has a nice place, but two dogs, who "are hardly in the house" but maybe an hour a day and at night, or in Clio's words, "1/3 of the time" which is close enough to "all the time" for me. I don't want to live with animals other than humans.

Daniel, who also has a Ph.D. is also looking to meet people. He offers an older home in a poorer part of Vegas, but is otherwise genuine and upfront. He's divorced with a 7 year-old and already renting out his den to two college girls. He regales me with predation stories in an effort to a) warn me of Vegas, and b) let me know he's quality. Seems on the up and up (in so far as it can be) but not really what I'm looking for.

And then there's SOFIA who can only type in all caps. Born and raised in Vegas, I actually spent about an hour talking to her about the area before I found out she was ... 17! Eeep! Funny thing, she's quite mature for her age and is seeking a 30-40 year-old woman to share a house with on the outskirts of Vegas. No kidding. I wonder if I qualify? Her only age give-away is her sheer enthusiasm mixed with a lack of real-world vocabulary as evidenced by an over-frequent use of "amazing, wonderful", "great", and "awesome". The red-flag and drama-meters are pegged, but I'm not sure she's a creature can be measured with normal person calibrations. Dad pays the rent and gives her a car. In many ways, it sounds too good to be true... but then again, so do I. At any rate, what she's looking for in a house (location-wise) is not what I'm seeking, but my heart goes out to her... poor thing.

And then there's the slew of boys who live 20 minutes from the strip (by car) who responded to my ad anyway. (In it, I said I was looking for something close to the strip... 20 mins away is about as far away as you can be and still be in Vegas!) Besides, have you seen Vegas traffic? It was awful 6 years ago, I can't imagine it now!

And what would the internet be without the boys looking for a girlfriend by offering free rent in exchange for cleaning and sexual favors? I wonder if I'd be rejected by them? OMG, those poor ladies who go out there and the get evicted at a moment's notice. I think my heart would break out there from all the sad stories.

Finally, I wonder if I'm the kind of girl that has to be met in person to be appreciated at face value. My goal is not to deceive, but suddenly now that I'm passing, I'm struck with the double fear of being exposed and, odd as it sounds, not passing. Both will subside when I can pass in a swimsuit... not quite there yet, though... at least, not at the Vegas level of pretty. (Self image is rotten masculine now.)

Hmmm... Italy probably won't be much better... but maybe I'll be different enough to still look feminine compared to all the local beauty.

Maybe I don't want to go to Vegas in some sort of sharing arrangement. I certainly don't think I can survive out there without a car. And what the heck am I doing considering moving to a desert anyway?

I think I need a nap.

... But Hopeful!

So Vegas is looking suspect, but how can I go to Italy with no passport?

Will it arrive before I have to leave? Will I still have time to get a ticket?

These are the thoughts going through my mind as I decide to check the mail. Lookit what came! The brochure included with my passport seems to answer the question between Vegas and Italy...

OMG, yay yay yay! My transition is (legally) complete!

Duhbate

Regarding the democratic debate, I agree with Jon Stewart's summary:

The first hour of last night's debates was a 60-minute master class in how to elevate out-of-context remarks and trivial insipid miscues into topics of national discourse.

So I wonder... are Americans too dense to understand a detailed, 500-page essay from each presidential candidate on what they intend to do and how they intend to do it? What about a 5-hour power-point presentation? Is that too much to ask from them? I don't think so, many Ph.D. candidates have to do this in order to graduate, so using that as a prerequistite to running the country leading the free world doesn't seem like too much to me.

But then again, I think rain is wet, so what do I know?

Learning Italian

Vegas or Italy... honestly don't know which one yet, but I'm preparing for both. The above photo is also both at once!

Cleaned up the old resume and am now looking (and applying for) freelance jobs in the Vegas area. Also reading a book on learning Italian. Italian for Dummies, whatev! This book is like two years of French class wrapped up in two chapters! Oh, wait a minute... ;)

My goal is to get the basic vocab and grammar down (it's a mix of Engish, French, and Latin rules!) so that once there, I can focus on learning new words via immersion. Might also do Rosetta Stone stuff after I get the grammar down. You know, immersion before the immersion?

Italian is a beautiful language in its simplicity. For example, you can omit most subject pronouns with verbs as the conjugation of the verb tells you which pronoun would proceed it! In other words, I could just say, "want chocolate" and how I conjugate 'want' implies 'I' want, or 'you' want, or 'she' wants, or 'they' want ... Fascinating!

Also, the nouns, pronouns and adjectives are masculine and feminine but they all must agree and they all will have different endings based on the object you're talking about. For example:

• il ragazzo italiano - the Italian boy
• i ragazzi italiani - the Italian boys
• la ragazza italiana - the Italian girl
• le ragazze italiane - the Italian girls

You can see now why I'm trying to get all this straight before I go there! :)

And I'm loving the use of accents. I wish English used them more. For example, in Chinese how you say the word "ma" changes what it means! If you say it in an even tone (like a typical American male says everything) it would be MĀ. If you said it like a question, it would be written MÁ. If you said it in a falling tone, MÀ, and if you said it with a rise and fall, MÂ. They all mean different things! (“mama”, “hemp”, ”horse”, and “to scold” - a naughty word, I was told!)

Italian isn't that extreme with the use of accents, but it still uses them. My name has one... the altered pronunciation from it is probably too subtle for most Americans, but that's okay. I'll hear it when someone says it!

Another neat thing about Italian, the penultimate (second to last) syllable in each word is usually the stressed syllable. That's why an Italian accent sounds the way it does! Neat! Well, that, and the way they pronounce the vowels, A (ah), E (ay), I (ee), O(oh), and U (oo). But the stress is what really makes the language sing: ee-ta-lee-AN-oh (Italiano). I don't have synethesia, but I hear the notes (g, f#, g, E, c) when I hear that word! Cursing in French may be like 'wiping your ahss with silk' but speaking everyday words in Italian is like singing a song!

Of course Vegas still lures me. It's the one city I considered living before I initially left America and it's now the last American city I'll consider living in. I guess it's fitting in some ironic cosmic sense that I could feel so at home in a city so fake. I don't know... something about the fakeness is comforting... as if the whole town knows enough not to take itself too seriously.

Perhaps I'm just drawn to the opulence of it all. I mean, if America is all about living in excess, then Vegas is that done right!

LOR Logic

I'm not a big Tolkien fan, though I thank Peter Jackson for making available to me his beautiful animated illustration of the Lord of the Rings, without which, my knowledge of hobbits would be greatly diminished. Anyway, there's a line from Arwin to her father, speaking about a vision of the future they've seen where she marries Aragorn, the king of men.

In the vision, she and he have a child. Her father, fearing the Middle-Earth equivalent of Armageddon, wishes her to leave on the last of the elfin space ships, which just happen to look like normal sea-faring vessels except for the warp drive, hidden below deck. Clever creatures, those elves!

Fearing her father is right, she almost leaves, but along the way, she suddenly realizes a fundamental truth about divination... though the odds are short for her vision to come true, one thing is certain: if she leaves, there will be no chance she and Aragorn will wed and have a child.

So... internalizing... even when all the odds are against you, you can't win if you don't play. Haha, I should write slogans for lotteries!

I know this is my year for the WSOP. I can't afford a ticket, but if I'm at least out in Vegas, that only brings me closer to my dream and closer to (now unseen) opportunities to get in the game. One thing is for certain: if I'm not in Vegas come July, there's no way I'll make the final table.

Working Weekend

Narrowing life down to Italy or Vegas. Italy represents a new life of unscripted adventures, while Vegas pretends to hold at least a glimmer of professional respectability.

Each choice would be consistent with my prior residence history. Every house I've owned or flat I've rented was either next to sin or salvation. After leaving Georgia (where I lived across the street from two malls), I lived across the street from a church, above a sex shop, across the street from a strip club/brothel, across the street from a church, then across the street from another church, then above a poker hall.

Thus, Italy, the home of the Pope seems a logical choice as does, Vegas, the city of sin!

If Italy, then I will most likely sell everything I own (again) and take what money is left and travel the world with just a suitcase, living day-to-day, taking whatever opportunities arise until I find myself a new home. I giggle at how many people who know me must think this insane.

Vegas holds a few more options:

• Poker
• Consulting/Programming
• Cocktail Waitress
• Escorting

I giggle again at how many people must think this insane. I can hear them now ... a Ph.D. and you'd consider being a bar maid or prostitute? Haha. Yes!

At this point, any sane person thinking these things must come to the conclusion that I've gone completely bonkers. I prefer the term "enlightened." You can keep your 9-5 and all that materialistic crap. You can even have my material possessions if you like! You can't take it with you, you know! Plus, the things you own end up owning you!

So once again, I stand on the brink of two dualities, comfortable in either realm: materialistic excess, and simplistic living...

"Thomas Jefferson"-type Shit

Happy Birthday, Thomas Jefferson! You wrote many a parchment extolling revolutionary ideas of your time, not the least of which was "The Declaration of Independence" and with it, you helped launch the first country in history based on the principle that every individual possesses certain "unalienable" rights.

Well done!

My friends have big ideas too. One of them wants to revolutionize democracy in this country... by creating a new political party that has at its root, a completely democratic, objective, and measurable process. With it, the people would be assured of having an equal voice, and the government would then have metrics for establishing progress.

His idea, but he wants me to build the thing. I always said I would either be the first to leave this country or the one to lead the revolution... I'll probably do it!

Look for http://3rdParty.org if not this next presidential election, then soon thereafter!

Around The Smalltown World

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? If there was nothing tying you down, no kids, no job, no home, no family... where would you go?

I felt it was always a dubious decision to move from smalltown Indiana to smalltown Georgia. Athens feels just like Muncie. (To be fair, Bloomington might be a better comparison.) If I had hesitations before, now there is no doubt: Georgia is out!

Why? A friend had offered her place to stay while I regrouped, but last night I learned that she was not going to be around, as in, not living in Athens. The house is like, over a mile away from the nearest gas station, and I never did see a grocery store, so riding the bus everyday in the Georgia heat? Ugh! Plus, she's pushed back the move-in date so that I'll have nowhere to stay for nearly two weeks after I'm out of here. Bummer. If she really didn't want me to stay there, but wanted me to make that decision for her, I'd give her an A+... these two events make what seemed like a safe haven no better than here. Worse, actually. I was really looking forward to being the lady of the house, cooking, cleaning, and generally taking care of her. So that's a bummer.

Maybe it's time to apply some gorilla warfare tactics to my life. Life is hard, I'm soft; lesson is that I'm flexible. Life is jobless with no home; lesson is I'm free. Assuming I shell out $120 for a year's worth of climate controlled storage (a tiny little lot) then I am now quite mobile. Conclusion: life is telling me that now is the time to travel. Pack up the office, fit everything you own into a 4x4x4 space and move on!

Okay, but where? Someplace familiar? Someplace where kind friends are? I've been meditating on this for the past two days. Some might say I've been sleeping 14 hours a day, others might say I've become depressed. Sometimes I do my best thinking unconscious. (It's a meditation trick... perhaps now I'll have more time to develop it!)

Italy keeps popping up on the radar. Never been. A soul mate met in London has offered a bed... she lives in, you guessed it, small town Italy. LOL.Wouldn't mind the crash course in fashion! Would love to see the history. I have no idea how I'd earn a living, but I'd enjoy learning Italian. Please please please let my passport go through without a hitch!

Wales might be an option. I have an academia friend from ... you guessed it ... small town Wales who might be able to get me a research or teaching job there. The campus is beach-side... Of course, he doesn't know about my transition, and that might be a hurdle.

There's always Vegas. Poker is an option. Plus, I could meet someone, or make an opportunity there. And, if poker fails me, Vegas would be a good city to make a living as a transsexual escort. Of course, for that, my breasts might need to grow a bit more first.

I'm also trying to get a job teaching, but 3 weeks is not a lot of time to find a job, and with no permanent address...

Finally, I swear I connected with the mind of one who once told me he'd be there for me if ever I needed him. Spooky. On the one hand, he's hurt me before. On the other, I can't imagine anyone better to help medicate myself though this crisis... I've not had fun like I've had with him, and I sure could do with some laughs.

Summary:

• Italy/? - Life unscripted, 100% new experiences, old flames
  
• Wales/Research - Life re-attempted
  
• Vegas/Poker/Escort - Life unscripted, w/no net, but familiar
  
• ?/Teaching - Life resumed
  
• D/Party - Life enjoyed, contemplated
  

Sigh. More mediation required. Maybe one more day... no one's knocking down my door to do stuff anyway.

ToDone List

Some people keep a ToDo list to remind them of tasks and chores that need completing. Most of these people derive satisfaction from marking out completed items from that list. Some people even take list making to the extremes and create a ToDo list for every aspect of their lives. I'm one of those people.

I've had the above list on my ToDo list for nearly four years now; everything hinged on the psychological barrier of realizing who I am and finding the confidence to be her. Everything else after that hinged on the name change.

I've come to realize that making lists is a great way to overcome stagnation in one's life. Often times there is so much that needs doing, yet we feel overwhelmed or worse, disinterested. My experience has shown that when this happens, there's usually one unfinished task that is holding up the start of all the others. Finishing that one task usually results in a tidal wave of new task completions.

So yeah, the flood gates are open... both a new social security card and a new passport were applied for today. Now all that's left is the waiting. The day my new passport comes, I'll create a new bank account in my new name, and then finally, the company, and then I'll be able to remove one list on my global ToDo list that has been over four years in the making... won't that feel good!

The Personal Relocation Expert

Of course the follow up dialog goes:

Man: But that's enough about my penis.
(pause)
Man: What do you think of my penis?

I'm not sure I understand boys. This is to be expected, as I didn't understand them when I was one, but experiencing them as female is ... I don't know what word fits. Maybe you can help?

So like, I spent all night packing and stuff and now it's 3am and I'm outside enjoying a well-deserved cigarette (as you do). Until just recently, it's been way too cold to even want to be outside at this time at night, but the past few nights have been nice, so I'm continuing my long-standing tradition of enjoying the night.

Now I'm just minding my own business when along comes a tall, young man walking home from the bar down the street. (All the bars are down the street.) He walks by and says, "Damn, girl, you look guud!" and asks if I own the shop connected to the alcove I'm standing in. He's cute, strong build too. I start to fumble for words then quickly recover, reasoning that nearly 50 people live in the building beside me, so anonymity is on my side. "I live here."

He then proceeds to tell me that he thinks he lives in a poor side of town (again, just down the road) but it wasn't long before I understand what he really means... he's racist! Before I can come to this conclusion, however, he notices my feet. Oh my, you have long toes! I may be green, but I can see where this is going... second man this week to talk about my toes. He tells me about this girl who can eat with her feet (mental note, get a pedicure) and next about his old girlfriend. Okay, let's have some fun... "So you like footjobs, huh?" I throw out playfully. Caught him off guard! Heehee.

I don't really know how what happened next came into motion, but he then started telling me his life story, focusing totally on the parts involving altercations with the police. First, he wires up a property owner with free cable to all the tenants. The owner pays him $50, but acts like he doesn't know this guy when he comes around next month asking for $10 from each tenant, who are now being charged an extra $20/month for cable. After a few weeks of ignoring the guy, he gets pissed and started banging on the door kind of stuff, and the police pick him up for aggravated something or other.

Next he tells me that while on probation, he's walking past a pimp in Birmingham when police swarm down on him and he gets arrested for public intoxication... gets house arrest but then gets all mouthy when a cop plants drug paraphernalia on him, so now he gets slapped a charge for intimidating a police officer!

Bizarre. I just met this man. I ask if he's still wearing the leg collar, he laughs, hikes up his pant leg and says, "no- that's finally off" (OMG, he was wearing one!) when, what was that I saw? Yup, that was a knife tucked to his ankle!

His story continues... Next he's walking home and gets mugged by four (N-bomb... yeah, he used that word on me freely) people and the police find on him - go figure - some pot so now he's in violation of parole and gets sentenced to a year in county jail when he pleas that "maybe I have a drinking problem, your honor!" Nice save. More house arrest.

And now he's here. An armed young man with anger issues. He says he's just newly arrived. He's looking to get high. Most boys like him are. Knowing Dave taught me how to take care of boys like this, and if he didn't just come from a bar I know to be smoky and - oh yeah - totally creep me out, I'd have asked him up to share a joint. Instead, he offers another cigarette and tells me of a time in sixth grade where he both got beat up and beat up a girl. Charming!

Sensing he's not going to see me again unless something changes, he offers up that he's a personal relocation expert. Ah, a mover... big strong man come help move my stuff! Okay, there's an in! But before I can say anything, he starts to tell me how he recently hurt his shoulder moving a mattress. (Mental note, get help moving the mattress.) He touches my hand to his shoulder and asks me to feel his rotator cuff. There's a sense of urgency in his action, as if he knows that I'm a healer, and that I wouldn't otherwise be touching him. After our conversation, he's probably right. I touch him anyway. Maybe I healed him... who can know such things?

I did, however, know that I was freezing. A fresh blanket of cold, heavy air swept under the wind as we were talking. I introduce myself. He gives me his name and phone number... I rememberize it and guide him home in the right direction, waiting until he turned the corner before going to my door.

What just happened? Why did he tell me all of that personal stuff? What larger forces are at work here? Can it all really be explained away by alcohol? Ah, does it matter? Queue Flower Drum Song!

Keeping Score

Maslow's chart shows the priority of needs for humans. The higher needs in this hierarchy only come into focus when the lower needs in the pyramid are satisfied. Thus, whatever problems you think you have in life, if water suddenly is gone, finding water will dominate your thoughts.

So how are we doing?

• Psysiological: I think we've finally got this level covered!
• Safety: rut-roah, needs some work. No job, no home, no resources. Ouch!
• Love/Belonging: isolated from family, craves touch, friends try to understand. Need work here too.
• Esteem: not too bad here, considering. There's something to be said for achievement!
• Self-actualization: looking good!

Ironic the top and bottom are the ones most developed. Am I just a shell of a person? Am I unlovable?

Well, we'll deal with the safety issues first, and then work on the love/belonging. Probably easier to get friends with a job, house, and money than without anyway.

Sustenance

Enjoying food is one of my favorite pleasures. People around here think you can't eat healthy and have good taste, but I completely disagree with them. Other people think you can't eat vegetarian and have a healthy diet; I disagree with them too! My diet is filled with delicious, healthy, balanced, and meat-free foods... mostly fruits, nuts, and veggies.

I'll make my meal choices based on what my body is craving. If I'm in need of protein, I'll pick a meal high in protein. Same goes for carbs and fat. There's not a lot of fat in my diet, so that means I can splurge whenever the occasion presents itself, hence the chocolate.

It wasn't easy creating a healthy menu in what feels like the fast-food capital of America, but after a while, I soon found all the healthy choices in the local supermarket, and this is what I came up with.

Breakfast:

• 8oz pressed fruit (from a selection of: oranges, bananas, apples, mangoes, pears, raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, pineapple)
  
• 1 slice toasted cinnamon raisin bread

Lunch:

• Spinach salad (spinach, broccoli, carrots, red onions, cucumbers, currants, sesame seeds, croûtons, fat-free tomato dressing)

Snacks (one of the following):

• Red pepper hummus w/pita bread
• Jalapeño potato chips
• Mandarin oranges
• Peaches
• Pears
• Chocolate chip cookie
• Chocolate
  

Dinner (one of the following):

• Burrito (seasoned rice, black beans, hummus, red peppers, spinach), low-fat tomato tortilla
• Chat choley (garbanzo beans, veggies, tomatos), basmati rice
• Pav Bhajl (veggies, tomatos), basmati rice
• Steamed noodles, veggies (green beans, red peppers, water chestnuts, cashews), soy-ginger sauce
• Herbed veggies (broccoli, carrots), basmati rice, cashews
• Teriyaki veggies (broccoli, cauliflower, carrots), basmati rice, cashews
• Szechuan veggies (broccoli, water chestnuts, sugar snap peas, red peppers), basmati rice, cashews
• Rotini pasta, spicy tomato sauce, garlic bread
• Spicy seasoned tuna, Ritz crackers
• Seasoned red potatoes, peas
• Minestrone soup, peanut butter sandwich
• Vegetable soup, Ritz crackers, cashews
  

Yes, cashews are my main protein/fat source! Dinner is obviously where I get the bulk of my variety. This may sound odd, but I find it comforting looking forward to the same meals for breakfast and lunch. Always have, probably because I grew up so often not liking what was served for lunch.

The average cost for breakfast is around $20/week, or $3/day. If I'm out, I'll spend that at McDonald's on a McSkillet Burrito (minus sausage, minus cheese) and an OJ. Average cost for lunch is around $14/week, or $2/day. Average cost for dinner varies but is around $5-6/day. Beverages are around $7/week, or $1/day. Snacks are around $21/week, or $3/day.

So no, it ain't cheap; around $15/day or $450/month. On the other hand, if you order by number at a fast-food restaurant, you'll spend $4-$8 per meal, which is easily the same amount per day. Or, you could just eat one meal a day at a nicer restaurant for the same amount.

I like my menu better. If I lived near high-quality, cheap sushi, I'd eat that 4-5 times a week for dinner, but other than that, I wouldn't eat out much. Maybe an occasional visit to the local Thai, Indian, Punjabi, Lebanese, Egyptian, or Moroccan restaurant, but they don't exist around here either, and anyway, I'd rather learn how to make those foods for myself.

Maybe you noticed that my diet is 99% vegan (non-animal, non-dairy), but I don't eat vegan, as most do, for moral/ethical reasons, rather I choose a vegan diet because of the long-term health benefits of doing so. (And so should you!) I'm not vegetarian (non-meat) or pescatarian (vegetarian+fish) either. I'll still eat a choice cut fillet mignon (cooked medium) at good steakhouse if I'm taken there, and I'll savor every bite. But save sushi, I rarely eat meat, and except for chocolate and ice-cream, I never eat dairy, even though I craved it while I was still growing bones!

Back Down To Zero

Never thought I'd see this place again.

Got the gender thing handled only to find the rest of life in a mess. No savings, no money, no home, no car, no job, good God! At least this time there's no bills.

So the major life questions that most people don't consider once again consume my waking thoughts. Where to go? How to get there? What to bring? What to do once I get there?

Normally all of this would send me tail-spinning into a depression, but this time, there is a difference. This time, we are going to do it as the woman we always wanted to be, and that in itself is such a large accomplishment for such a long time coming, I won't let this bring me down!

Kobayashi Maru

Day 4: $200 Ladies Only No-limit Hold'em
I sat among the women... I was accepted as one of them! Not one read or funny look! If they knew, they didn't dare say or treat me differently. If that's not passing a real-life test, I don't know what is!

Back to poker. I won every hand I played. I won every hand I bet. I had a run of cold cards you read about. Seriously... 52, 23, 42, J3, Q2, 72, 54, 32, K2, T4, 52, T6... and so on and on and on and on...

I bluffed a few of those hands, but I'm not exaggerating when I say that in the 6 hours I survived that horrible run of cards, I only had 3 legitimately playable hands! After seeing flops, I never regretted folding, and most of the times there wasn't a flop, my opponents were kind enough to show the table cards that had me dominated. I couldn't have played any better, won any more chips, and yet, I lost.

In the end, I was two hands away from being blinded all-in when I took a stand with my KQ. I was about 2000 chips above the starting stack of 2500, but the blinds were 3000 and 1500, or my whole stack. In other words, if I did nothing, I would out of the tournament in two more hands. So my KQ was looking pretty good and, with a caller before me, I raised all-in, playing for pot odds of more than 12,000 chips when the superstar to my left capped my bet with AJ.

I should mention that she just arrived at the table with more chips in one stack than we had at the entire table! Seriously... she had over 40,000 chips just in one stack... we barely had 30,000 among us all... it was a slow table. My raise all in to her wasn't even a noticeable bet.

Anyway, I flop my King (huzzah!), and the lady to my right folded AJ (huzzah!), giving me pretty good odds to win, but an Ace fell on the turn along with my last hope of making it out to Vegas.

The One Who Fooled Them All

Day 3: $500 No-limit Hold'em
It's hard to beat lucky and stupid.

From the big-blind ($200), I call an all-in raise ($1050) from the 4th seat with Ace-4 spades. I figure the guy for two high cards, but not an ace; he's making a move. What I didn't expect was the guy in 3rd position calls after I do (he had Queen-9 offsuit). The flop is Ace-9-7 with two spades. I bet $1000, I get raise $2000, I move all-in $3000 and get called! Turns out the other guy had Ace-King, so he's looking to win the main pot (I was wrong there), but the side pot is huge. Plus, I have two chances for a spade to win everything (and be table chip leader)... that's a 50% chance. The other guy was giving me those odds, plus I already had a pair of Aces, so I got my money in with way the best of it. Guess what the river was? Yup, a Queen.

Psyching out the psychologist
I guess the hormones are starting to kick into gear. Wasn't it just four months ago I was bemoaning the fact that I couldn't pass as much as I wanted? Now, as my good friend Alan put it, I am passing under the close scrutiny of poker players, who are supposed to be pretty observant.

But wait, there's more.

I have spent the past few days utterly loving being who I am and being perceived as I am. Casino crew have been chatting me up, players have been lavish with compliments, and I was even asked out on a date by a "playah".

He was all about getting into my pants. He was leaving that day but was planning on extending his trip just because he met me! He bought me a nice dinner, and since he was a clinical psychologist with two PhDs (he liked that I could talk smart with him) I assumed he had at least heard of people like me before. He was also a big Duran Duran fan, and a bit of a pretty boy, so I thought there was a chance he might have 'read' me and was either gay or bisexual.

And then there were the jokes. At one point, he was so enthralled by me he said, "there's nothing you could tell me that I wouldn't like... unless it was that you had an Adam's apple," and right as he said it, he winked at me. Was that a joke or did he know? He even scutinized my throat and came away satisfied. I'll tell you now, he didn't know, but of all the things he could have said... I swear, life freaks me out sometimes.

So before he used his phone to order new tickets home, I knew I had to come clean. Better here, now, than alone at night in a hotel, right? Maybe he already knows?

When I told him my 'secret', ala Lady Chablis (Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil), he got up in the middle of dinner and left. How humiliating!

I was actually okay with everything until I realized that all the affections I had received from all the boys on the boat would probably have turned out the same way. That hurt. Now I'm paranoid. Today is the ladies only tournament. Did he tell anyone? Nightmares result. I dream I'm back in high school, on the swimming and diving team. I'm passing, but I think someone recognizes the old me; thinking I'm still a boy on bottom (but not checking), I follow habit scared into the boys locker room and felt the same uncomfortableness I did back then. Girls don't belong there. This time, I walk out and head for the ladies. Once I leave the boys locker room, I wake up refreshed.

And thus the question of the night remains, but no longer threatens to overshadow the question of the day... Will I pass among the ladies? Will I win the ladies' tournament? Sources say, "yes" to both! I've never felt more female, and I've never felt more confident I can win. Here we go!

UPS and Downs

Say Cheese!
This photo was taken as I'm consoling my friend (off camera) who just had an awful bad beat. A friendly man comes up to me and insists that I was a perfect picture moment! Not one to take such a compliment passively, I thanked him and quickly handed him a camera, saying that he couldn't just make that comment and walk away! :)

After what seemed like twenty minutes of hilarity from an old dog learning new tricks, (his words describing him learning to take a photo with a digital camera) he was unable to snap a photo that met his high standards of quality. Alcohol might have been a factor. My friend, eager to be rid of the man so he could continue his bad-beat story then stepped in to save the moment and the day.

All the man wanted in return was advice on how to keep his dog from barking at the UPS man, and since I just happened to know that one, I gave him a couple of methods, one based on the psychology of dogs, and the other based on the technology of humans, but neither method seemed to interest the man as much as the casio, so we parted company and my friend continued his story, as will I now.

Day 2: $300 No-limit Hold'em
Poker is a game of skill, but there is still an element of chance involved. In general, tournaments have a higher chance/skill ratio than live games. This is because in a live game, the ante and blinds (the amount players have to pay before receiving any cards) never go up. Plus, in a live game, you can rebuy, so your stack is essentially infinite (assuming you aren't playing beyond your means). Finally, in a live game, you are always playing against a maximum of just 9 other people.

Thus, for any given tournament, there are two main factors that affect the chance/skill ratio: the initial stacks, and the rate in which the blinds go up (called the blind structure). The more chips you start out with, the more skill comes into play. The slower the rate the blinds increase, the more skill is a factor.

Yesterday's tournament had a starting chip stack of 3,500 and the blinds went up every 40 minutes. Today's tournament started with 2,500 chips, using the same blind structure, but with the blinds going up every 30 minutes.

In other words, today's tournament had smaller starting stacks and faster blinds, two factors which make chance more of a factor. Finally, there were more players than tables, meaning new players were being added after existing ones dropped out.

It was a fast tournament, and to win, fast play was required. There wasn't time to wait for premium hands because if you did and the blinds didn't eat you, you'd be playing with people who would have ginormous stacks compared to you. Obviously then too, in a tournament, the more players that enter, the more chips you have to collect to win.

So I played fast and cultivated the perfect table image. There were three pros at my table, all sponsored by online poker sites... but everyone feared me. I had the best of it! :) I was making great reads and even better plays. All was good until the fourth hour of the tournament.

I was around double the average chip stack and the other players were getting antsy because of the blinds. With pocket 10s, I smelled an all-in with just two face cards. This situation is called a race, because 10s are just better than even money to win against say, AK.

Before I can call, the player to the first player's left raises - but just barely. Here's where I made my mistake. Why just the raise? Why did he put in 2/3 of his stack on the raise, but not all of it? He's trying to isolate, for sure, but why? What does he have?

I hemmed and hawed, tried to get a read on him, but he was stone faced, which means he had a hand, but he would still interact with me, meaning he didn't think he was a sure winner. In fact, he nearly folded to just a 2,000 raise on a 20,000 pot because he wasn't sure! Long story short, I put him on a small pair. Short story shorter, he had KK. Bad girl! Bad read! Pay attention to your gut!

Actually, I overplayed the man. My reads were right, but I assumed he was a better player than he was... he was genuinely afraid to put all of his chip in on KK where a more seasoned player would do that in a heart beat at this stage in the tournament. He wasn't acting, he was genuinely afraid, and I misinterpreted that as him being a good player with a beatable hand rather than a very dicisplined mediocre player with a monster hand. Noted.

Oh well, like I said, it was a fast tournament. If you think I was playing too fast, I actually felt I wasn't playing fast enough for this tournament... just prior to going out, two people got moved to our table (because I had just put out two) and they had huge chip stacks... like, 20 times average. I went from being leader at our table to way behind in the tournament and at the table!

Anyway, I didn't put him on Kings and that was stupid, and that's why I went home early. He immediately came over from across the table, hugged me, and told me he thought I was the best player there. Shrug. Maybe, but I made a stupid play in an otherwise flawless game.

(Tomorrow's tournament has a slower blind structure and should have a smaller field.)

Rain On My Parade

Day 1: $550 No-limit Hold'em
A mixed day. On the one hand, I finished 29th out of 285 people. Not bad for my first WSOP event, but not in the money either. That was reserved for the top 27 people. So drat. I'm pretty sure I could have finished in the money if I just didn't play, and were this the main event, that's exactly what I would have done. However, had I done so, I would have guaranteed myself of a bottom-rung finish, albeit in the money. Since I had already allocated money for the tournament, breaking even in the money would not really have helped as much as winning $27,000, so I went for the gold and came up with sand.

The good news is that I got there by making some very good reads on players, spotting tells and folding very big hands to even bigger ones. Everyone was amazed I folded trip aces until they saw trip aces with a bigger kicker... and even he got beat by a flush on the turn! Had I called, I would had finished like, 210 or something.

In the end, I was like, 28th of 30 people remaining, which sounds better than it was. The reality was that I was at a very tough, short-handed table with a tiny stack. We started with 3,500 chips and I was hovering around 20,000 for the last 3 hours. Not bad, but I had won some coin flips to get there, and didn'ton feel like pushing my luck against the monster stacks there. Monster stacks too, like hundreds of thousands of dollars! The game was harsh... seriously... seems like every hand, everyone folded preflop to a big raise! The question was not if the pot would be raised a lot preflop, but by whom. There were only maybe 5 or 6 flops seen after the dinner break! And every time I was going to raise it up with a mediocre hand, someone in front of me would do it first, and since they had me way covered, re-raising wasn't really an option.

So I lost. But I finished in the top 10%. Not bad for my first tourney, and for a massively huge public setting as a girl! :)

Besides, earlier that morning, I got the manager of the hotel to comp my first night and take off $25 for the rest of the nights, so in my book, I still won a little.

By the way, it rained so much that day, I entered the boat at the 3rd deck but left - arriving at the same point on land - from the 2nd deck!

Marching to the beat of a different Flower Drum Song
Very early in my transition, I was quite fond of a song from a musicial titled, "I enjoy being a girl." That song was in regular rotation on my mp3 player while I was in London... how can you not walk a little lighter with that running in your head?

After today though, I realized the title is no longer representive of how I feel.

Regrets? Hardly! I love being a girl!

OMG, I had boys from across the poker room buying me drinks! Teehee! Boys were flirting left and right... cute ones, too! I think the hormones are starting to kick in! I was totally passing all day and looooving it. I felt feminine, I felt pretty, I felt absolutely wonderful.

I felt alive.

Me Tu, Caesar!

Headed down to Caesars today to play in the Midwest regional WSOP circuit event. Wish me luck tempered with plenty of patience!

Countdown to the First Tournament...

Checked into the hotel; my room has a mini-fridge and microwave, so I went down to the local grocery and bought some noodles, rice, vegies, and fruit. Yum! The room is now converted in a home-away-from-home with all the comforts thereof. Time to focus on poker.

The tournaments here are much faster than the WSOP. In the main event, you start with 20,000 chips and 100-200 blinds. Here, you start with 2,500 or 3,500 chips, depending on the buy-in, and the blinds start at 25-50.

Imagine you're playing in the main event and in the first hour, you lose 17,000 chips. Ouch! Well, that's where the tournament here starts! Of course, everyone has the same small amount of chips, but the blinds are a much higher percentage of the initial chip stack, which forces faster, looser play compared to the WSOP.

In fact, my strategy here is basically going to be my strategy for the WSOP once I get into the money... meaning there might be some risk involved. But then again, maybe not... I might just see if I can finish in the money in every tournament I play, even though the winnings would be small. Dunno. Doing so would convince me I could get into the money in the main event, although at the risk of not having enough money to enter. (Don't forget, I need to win here to play there.) The drawbacks of not working. Nah, I'm going to play to win! :)

Meet Clio

The first day of my new life would not come peacefully. It was a cold, gray April morning and the winds that normally chill to the bone were exceptionally strong, even for this time of year. These weren't just the winds of change; more like the tornado of change!

Court, 9:00 AM. I make small talk with the family to my right. A chatty father sits between his wife and daughter, trying to ease her nervousness by regaling her with the "30 or so times" he was arrested for drunk driving. Turns out, laws weren't as strict back in the 60s. Amusing as his stories were, her stomach continued to growl. I offered to share some strawberry Pocky from Tokyo and that seemed to help.

The daughter, barely 21 if a day, looked like she would be more comfortable at a rock-a-billy show than court, though it was obvious she made an effort to dress appropriately. If she asked, I would have mentioned that courtroom etiquette generally frowns upon tattoos on women seeking custody. Her foot-long naked lady silhouette tat down her left calf showed through her too-thin tights, but as it turned out, her husband hired a lawyer and what was to be a hearing was now simply a meet-and-greet for the lawyers. She, like me, was going to have to come back again.

Finally, my name is called, and I stand before a judge and swear that I'll tell the truth. He butchers my name, but I'm already used to that from my former moniker, so I just politely smile through it all. Three minutes later, it's all over.

I now have 4 copies of a court order to change my name. Awesome! I immediately sashayed next door to the county clerk office to get a new birth certificate when the high was shut down: she took one look at me and said she wouldn't change the M to an F without a court order, and my court order didn't say that. She said it very casually, as if this kind of thing happened all the time. Since I can't get an 'F' on my driver's license without one on my birth certificate, my mood threatened to mirror the turbulent weather outside.

Undaunted, I plead my case to the court secretaries who find cause to be sympathetic and take my papers to the judge's secretaries, who come out one at a time to try to make sense of the situation. I'm passing to the extent where no one questions the notion that there should in fact be an 'F' on my license. Finally, I find myself in front of a new judge, a woman, who is quickly scanning previous cases for precedent. After 10 minutes or so of searching (holding up a case outside) she finally tells me that there is none. Evidently, I'm the first one in my local government to do this sort of thing... that's some county clerk!

After agreeing to get my doctor to send her a letter saying I am in fact, currently undergoing hormone replacement therapy (HRT) she offers to create a new court order and tells me she'll do it that day!

At 3:00 PM, I now have 4 copies of a court ordering my name and gender to be changed! Next stop, the county clerk again. This time though, I'm ready for the red tape. What would later give me pause was watching her erase the existence of my old life. Literally! She pulled out a dusty book from 19xx and flipped through the hand-written pages until she found the line documenting my birth. She then white-outed the entire line. Just like that, with one swoop, my past was erased.

There's no going back now! Skipping the social security office (I'll get to that on another day) I rush to the BMV with a new birth certificate and a court order. 15 minutes later:

The pink banner is the strawberry cream icing on my cake! Or maybe Pocky. When it all was said and done, I looked at the clock to find it cheerfully at 4:20. More cosmic signs re-affirming my choices!

Hi, I'm Clio Renée. Today is my birthday. Thank you Shelly and Marianne for helping to make it possible. Thank you my friends, Amy, Dana, Regina, Joe, and Alan for being a part of this very, very special day... you remembered! I love you all!