... 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!

The Day Before The First Day...

... of the rest of my life is today! Tomorrow at 9am, I'll be sitting pretty in court, awaiting for the honorable judge to grant my request for a name change. Yay!!! Not more than 15 minutes later, I'll be off to get a new birth certificate and then a new driver's license. What a day! Those three things have been on my ToDo list for over 3 years now and I can't tell you how sweet it will be to tick them off! :)

But today, I travel. Leaving from downtown ATL, thru the dinosaur-infested mountains of Kentucky to see the gleaming candlelight still burning bright through the sycamores for me.

Truckers are honking at me now! Teehee.

Oh, and Atlanta brought with it a new kind of passing dilemma... boys asking me out, thinking I'm a genetic girl! Eep! More on that later!

Technology Fetish

Being Digital
That's what three Terabytes look like. A single character or number is typically stored using 8 bits, or just one byte. This sentence contains 42 bytes. One thousand bytes together is called a Kilobyte. Remember those 5 1/4" floppy disks? One of those held 512 Kilobytes. One thousand Kilobytes is one Megabyte. The bible is about 4.5 Megabytes, as is a decent quality 4-minute mp3. One thousand Megabytes - a billion bytes - is a Gigabyte. A CD is about 3/4 of a Gb while a DVD is nearly 5 Gb. One thousand Gigabytes make one Terabyte. Thus, one Terabyte is one trillion (1,000,000,000,000) bytes.

Three Terabytes is just enough to store everything significant I've ever seen or done digitally... for now. Of course, counting backup, that's six Terabytes. The big gray disks are 1 Tb each and together, they hold around 400 DVDs. The black disks are each 320 Gb. One contains all my personal data, one all my music, one all my non-DVD videos, and the fourth contains all my Websites.

Just for fun, one thousand Terabytes is a Petabyte, enough to store all research libraries in the United States! One thousand Petabytes is an Exabyte. A drive that big could hold all the printed material ever created by humans... and only be 20% full! One thousand Exabytes is one Zettabyte... that's one billion trillion bytes! Finally, one thousand Zettabytes is a Yottabyte, or one billion billion bytes. That's a yotta bytes! Did I just say that out loud?

To put that into perspective, there are approximately 3 billion genes in you, and you're make up of around 1,000 billion billion atoms. If we could miraculously somehow store everything about an atom in one Kilobyte of data, it would take 1,000 Yottabytes to store a human!

How many hard drives are that? Let me put it to you this way... if you stored all of this data on the Terabyte hard drives above, and you then stacked them end-to-end, it would take light 1,000 years to travel from the first to the last! (Light travels from the Sun to the Earth in 8 minutes, and it takes light 4 years to travel to the nearest star!)

Amazingly, if you would have done all that 10 years ago, it would have been 100 times longer! That's 1/3 the way to the center of the universe!

So, Scotty, beam me up... just not on a dialup modem! (That would take 11 trillion years! My clothes would be unimaginably out of fashion!)

Mobile Evolution

All my mobiles, first to current, from left to right. I loved my first cellphone... it was so tiny and so perfect for London. You could carry it everywhere and forget you had it (until it started vibrating!) It even had a color LCD. The middle one was my most powerful... four years ago and it's still more powerful than anything I can get around here. It was such a commanding cell phone, the one on the left came with free! Seriously, it was a $1,000 phone. Sigh... I miss having research funds. Returning to America, disgusted with the calling plans, I went simple, pay-as-you-go. For being a free phone, it was pretty cool. On the right is the current... so far, me likey, but I wish it came in pink! At least it's unlimited TV, radio, calling, texting, and surfing... finally, a sane calling plan!

Mobile Office
Everything you do from your desktop, you can do from the road! Here's how I merged my backgrounds in technology and Zen. Starting from the top and doing down the first column, we have

• cables to connect anything to everything
• tripod for video camera
• batteries,
  
• USB Bluetooth adapter
• camera battery charger
• DVD player power adapter
• USB HDTV + remote control

Down the next column are all the personal hard drives. I don't travel with all my DVDs because technology hasn't made them small enough yet. (And Blue-ray makes the prospect bleaker still!)

The blue gadget is an HDTV video camera and going from left to right,

• camera
• mouse
• web camera
• bluetooth headphones (for wireless listening)
• the mobile
• mp3 player
• SD adapters (so I can transfer data from any computer)

Above that is a projector, cables, laptop power adapter, and a universal adapter that charges all the other devices from a wall socket or a car lighter. Left of that is some extra laptop batteries, and a wireless hub (so I can create an encrypted network wherever I go). Under that is a DVD player and below that... speakers. Yes, I travel with a complete home entertainment system! Great for parties, too!

Just about everything I could think of doing on a computer, I could do with what you see. There's still some equipment not shown... a few wireless cameras (for use on the wireless network) and some toys that turn an ordinary whiteboard into a wireless whiteboard. If I were in an environment where I was giving or attending more talks, I'd bring that along too... it's pretty small and runs on batteries!

But that's it... and believe it or not, all that (plus a laptop!) fits into one carry-on briefcase with room for travel documents and magazines.

Phew! Anyone got a cigarette?

Aural Fixation

After a long night of work, I hit the sheets, exhausted at 8:30 AM. If I'm lucky, I can get to sleep before the sun floods my darkness with tomorrow.

At 9:00 AM, the person in the flat above me wakes up and proceeds to thunder around for an hour or so. Usual behavior except these were abnormally loud thumps... like people jumping. What is going on?

Because I lay awake unable to shut out the thumps, I mediate on the noises and discern, in addition to the normal thumping, there were sounds of a rope being thrown across the room and people jumping after it. Finally it clicks... they got a dog! That's a dog dropping a rope bone on the floor over my bed. Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud.

It's hard to convey just how loud is the noise just from my neighbor walking around - there's no insulation between my ceiling and their wood floor. Just 6" of rafters. Normally, I can pinpoint the upstairs neighbor's location, if they are wearing shoes or not, and if so, if they are rubber soled or heels or flip flops. They are heavy walkers.

I choose to be a light walker because of the long-term preventive health benefits to joints and bones. One day, really watch people and concentrate on their gait. Feel it. Imagine what it would feel like if you walked like that. Notice how you walk. See if you can walk a bit lighter. Try it for a few strides. Notice how much less impact stress there is from your joints.

In fact, I feel sorry for the person upstairs thumping around because it feels like they are doing damage to their joints! Ouch!

These thoughts occupy my mind as I lie awake until around 10:00 AM when the thumping subsided. Ah, come sweet sleep! But no! The peace was not to last! Suddenly, I'm living in the middle of a dog kennel! Was there a memo I missed? Is this month national get a dog month? Where did all these animals come from?

Don't get me wrong; I love dogs, just like I love children. It's other people's dogs and children that not always keen on. Some people just aren't very good parents.

Anyway, my 'dog' is a bit rusty, so I couldn't make out the exact conversation, but it went something like this.

At first the dog upstairs is frightened, and there are high-pitch squeals. Roughly translated, sie was saying, "AR-AR-AR-AROOOW!" or "Where did everyone goooo?"

The came even shriller whines of lonliness. "ERMMMMMmmmmm ERMMMMMmmmm"

Now this went on for about 10 minutes when another dog, feeling sorry for the other dog, tries to console.

"ARRROOOOWWW" which means, "It's okay!" in dog, now colors the soundscape. Calls of "ARRRRRooooWWw" which means, "You'll be alright!" follow.

Unfortunately, the first dog wasn't consoled, so we had another 10 minutes of this before a third dog joined the chorus, sympathetic, but speaking from a position of power, "Don't worry, now be quiet! Both of you!"

All this barking just confused the first dog more, and sie started her routine all over again, triggering the second dog's reply, until eventually it got the the third dog's annoyed reply. As this was the only interaction the first dog could get, she kept this up as long as sie could, around 20 minutes more or so.

Finally around 10:30 there was only the faint bass thump from the music of the lower neighbor's intercom, the normal sounds for this time of day, and finally, I fall asleep.

Two hours later, right in the middle of a soothing sleep cycle, the 9:AM routine starts all over again. The neighbor's home for lunch and playing with what sounds like two dogs. I later find out that the dog living above me is a huge black lab, maybe 70 pounds. That explains the people running and jumping.

It's 2pm before I finally lose consciousness. It's amazing the sounds that leak through when you are completely still. It's almost like being able to see through walls... matching sounds with experiences to discern activities. Neat, but tomorrow... earplugs!

Counting Chips

One former WSOP champion said that the main event attracts 200 world-class players, 2,000 really good players, and 5,000 complete morons.

Judging by the payout structure, I'd break it down like:

• 600 world-class (# places paid out (approx))
• 1,600 really good (# players in the tournament on 2nd day)
• 5,000 wannabes (# players out on the first day)

If you're really good, you'll make it past the first day.

The Story So Far...

I was born. I went to school. I dove. I loved in Pendleton. I graduated. I loved in Fort Wayne. I excelled in college. I loved in Atlanta. I excelled in collage again, and I excelled in collage again. I taught. I left. I lived in London. I loved in London. I returned to the land of my birth.

Believe it or not, psychologically speaking, I had to come back here to heal. I knew there was no way I could be of service to anyone until I got my own mess straightened out for good.

I lived with my parents. After nine months of depression, I went to CA to visit some transgendered friends I met through the internet. While there, I started freelancing for a New York photographer, and shortly after returning home, I made enough money to get my own place downtown (but still with no vehicle).

A couple of freelance jobs later, my reputation got me what I thought was a serious job with a serious startup, but I got fired after they met me. Bigots.

Now I'm considering pulling up stake and heading for Vegas!

Practice (Resolution #7)

Just in case you thought I wasn't serious...

I'm watching (in HDTV) the 2007 World Series of Poker. I'm visualizing myself there, in the sea of people, on an island of ten. I'm watching the tells, I'm playing the game. I'm looking to see what the bets are in relation to the blinds, and how long it takes before people start to get impatient and bluff all-in. That won't be me. Not until I'm in the money anyway.

I've recorded every online tournament I've played this year and I've written software to help me analyze the games to correct my weaknesses and improve my strengths. I'm re-re-re-reading my books on the psychology of poker, and I'm reviewing my list of tells. I'm creating flash cards of win percentages for every hand situation I'll encounter so that I'll instantly know the odds, and hence, when it's right to chase, fold, or bet, mathematically speaking.

Basically, if the WSOP 2008 Main Event was a course in college, I'm studying for the final exam, and I expect to be a 4.0 student! But this is no final exam... it is my thesis defense! I'll be bringing to the table the sum of over a decade's worth experience playing (and hosting) home games in Atlanta. Adding to that the knowledge gained from playing in Casinos all over America (including Vegas several times), and Europe. I will bring with me the results of all the poker programs I have written to analyze the game, as well as every book I have read (already scanned) on poker, betting, and psychology.

WSOP 2008 will be my moment in time! At least for now. :) If I don't make the final table, I think I will be done with poker, but if I do make the final table and/or win endorsements, I'll play for one year in tournaments for the sole purpose of bringing my friends along for great vacations, but at the end of that year, it's bye-bye poker. There's just too many other things to get excited about in life!

But for now, I'm in training. Since the pace of online is so much faster than live game, I expect to instantly make my decisions, and then spend the rest of the time putting on a show, playing my persona and encouraging people to underestimate me. When they do, and the odds are right, I will pounce!

I'm planning my strategy! I've printed up how much it costs per hour to play (the blind structure) and last year's payouts for all the tournaments I'll be playing next week. In the main event, everyone starts with 20,000 chips and blinds start at 50/100 (about 450 chips/hour). I firmly believe that I can make the money simply by playing solid poker, not chasing, and never putting my life at risk until I have a winning hand.

If I don't get any cards, I probably won't make much higher than 600th (which pays $25,000) but if I *do* get some cards... enough to get me into 300th place or higher, well, then I'll start playing cards and play for the final table.

But on the first day, I'll be reluctant to risk more than 1/10th of my stack on a draw. In fact, I don't expect to put any money in unless I

• have the best hand, and am favored to win.
  
• have a favorable draw that stands to make me a mint.

Here's an example. Outside the blinds, I probably won't play but just a few hands: AA, AKs, KK, QQ, and maybe any A-paint suited, depending on how the other players play. However, if I'm in the big blind with say, 56o (five and six unsuited) and there's a raise with callers, there's a good chance I'll call hoping to catch a flop like 66A or 55A, or something that makes me a huge hidden favorite against a good hand. I'd even be leery of an all-in bet with a 56A flop! Of course, you can't always play premium hands, and you often win the most with rags, so, I'll play my non-premium hands while in the blinds, at least, until I'm in the money. (For this reason, I'll probably raise every pot I enter to try to push out the blinds, and if I don't, I'll be wary of calling an all-in bet with KK on a 479 flop.)

As another example, until the money, I'll fold hands like QQ to an all-in raise with a flops like J46. I'm going to give credit for 44 or 66 or even 46 (if they are in the blind). In a live game, I'd normally play back, assuming my opponent has something like AJ, but since you can't rebuy in the WSOP... I'm not going to take that risk. At least not until I'm well into the money.

As for the televised coverage... OMG, the opening sequence is as glitzy as Vegas! In HD, it's darn impressive! Check out the media coverage, and that's just a portion of it! You can see why I'm very concerned about my appearance! I need to be ready for that crowd, I need to exude confidence, I need to look like I belong in view of that camera, I need to shine when it is on me, and I need sparkle when it's not. I pray that if fortune shines on me, I can be a positive example to transgendered folks everywhere... poker is just a means to the end of helping people.

But... I could use help! What style? What clothes? What character to play and how to play her? How to practice, who will help keep it real? You see... you know all of my preparations... but no one else needs to. For this tournament, I get to re-invent myself, so if you've had experience doing that... please let me know!

And that's what the WSOP circuit event at Caesar's is about... there will not be any cameras there, so it's the perfect opportunity to practice for the main event. Unfortunately, since I'm now unemployed, I've had to dip into my WSOP buy-in, which means, in order to play in Vegas, I'll need to win some money here. But that's okay... if I can't win here, I'll be devastated, but I'll also accept defeat and cut short my losses.

However, every fiber in my being is telling me that Vegas is where I need to be. This year, this time, this event, as Clio. Just like Sammy, we're gonna do it our way!

And finally, here is my promise to my friends: if I make the final table, you have seats in the TV cheering section + hotel + airfare. Don't bother packing, just come! Together, we can make it happen; I hope you want me to be there and you know I want you there!

... back to studying!

The Beginning of Happy

Recently caught a show on HBO Family called, "I have Turrets, but Turrets doesn't have me," which profiles several young kids with Turrets. From the previews, I was amazed to see these very young kids talk and carry themselves better than most adults. I became curious to see they were able to cope with the social ridicule. In that regard, having Turrets and being transgendered are similar, so I thought I would take some time to learn some coping techniques from the masters (children).

On the surface, the twitches seemed to be the result of nervousness, and one is tempted to think that maybe, just maybe, Turrets could be managed with psychotherapy, or perhaps with anxiety drugs, but listening to their descriptions, the 'twitch' behavior is the final result of a total mental onslaught designed to overwhelm the person into doing whatever the twitch is. Like, you can't think about anything because every voice in your mind is yelling, "HEAD SPASM!!!"

Can you imagine what kind of hell must that be? I mean, here these kids are in class, they know they are about to twitch, and even if they can fight the urge (so as not to be ridiculed), it's at the cost of not being able to concentrate.

Maybe it's the estrogen, maybe it's my baggage, but I cried at their stories. One girl was videotaped during a bad fit, visibly frustrated with her damaged body, screaming over and over, "I hate my life!" We've all been there, huh? No? You mean you haven't tried to kill yourself? Not even seriously considered suicide? Maybe we all haven't, but I felt her pain.

Some kids couldn't control their bodies, but when playing piano or drums, they were flawless. Those moments of total absorption must be bliss for them. So if there was despair, there was also hope, determination, triumph, and joy.

And there once again is the similarity.

A Full Moon Prayer for Good Friday

I am grateful for the blessings in my life.
I am grateful I am my own wife.
I am grateful for friends who have places to stay,
I am grateful for the jobs that have come my way.
I am even grateful for the fella I confused,
But I am most grateful for friends I look up to:

One built from a dream, a home+ company
One has so much love of life, de la vie
One is the smartest man I've ever met.
One the most clever wherever, I'd bet!
One has talents that far exceed mine,
One has compassion, inspires divine!

Please bless them all, and all whom they touch,
Give them support, bless them so much!
And please Jesus, please bless all the rest,
Please save the world from this awful mess!
We need another like you or Lennon,
To spread forgiveness, the message of love.

PS- Please bless mother and father... I can't help them, I hope you can bother.

Clio on Clio (Ergo, Ego, 'Ere go?)

On My Family
My family, bless them, is one, ginormous redneck drama fest worthy of reality TV or Springer. That's not to say I don't love them, but theirs is not my world. Enter the father, currently in jail for not paying child support, but as it turns out, not for smoking pot (on school grounds) with his soon-to-be expelled 15-year old pregnant daughter. She just doesn't care about school because it's not her world. Trouble is, she's physically and verbally abusing her depressed, agoraphobic mother. Her seven- and nine-year old girls sleep and live on dirty floors and are lucky to change their underwear more than once a week. Imagine camping, but in a house and you might get an idea of their world. They don't seem to mind, although the oldest brother got as far away as he could, moving out at 15, and believe it or not... going to college on a football scholarship. He's the black sheep in an otherwise wholly uneducated family living in abject poverty, but refusing to work because the government will keep paying them to breed.

And that's just my mom's sister's family! But what about my family? I'm looking for a new word... maybe you can help?

They try my patience so. Estrogen is changing my body, I am going through puberty, I style my hair, wear makeup, heels, and pass more often as a genetic girl than boy. My parents know I am changing my name and my gender- have for over a year now. Last night, my parents watched me (as described above) create a similar female character on their Wii. They watched me name her Clio, and use her to bowl with them.

They still refuse to call me Clio or use feminine pronouns.
They don't even try.

They still want me to fix their computer though.

On My Research
The world of academia and business are very far removed. In academia, the sharing of ideas is encouraged, while in business, intellectual capital is to be guarded. I left academia because business took hold of university research. First labs, then entire schools were outfitted with hardware from IBM, Sun, Silicon Graphics, et. al., equipped with the latest software from Microsoft. In exchange, said companies were invited first-hand to come and steal all the brilliant work of the unsuspecting students. The students, lured by the promise of a research job at a big corporation, are all too willing to intellectually put out, so to speak.

I don't care who you are, as a grad student, you can't compete with someone like Microsoft once they grok your idea. You have classes to study for and a life to otherwise maintain. They have 100 people for everyone one of you. It's the opposite of Nike, it's Nikan't. Just can't do it. I've seen Microsoft Research, I've given talks there... once your idea is out, if it's good, you're out.

So I left academia, and recognizing the value in my ideas, stopped publishing. I started doing my own research on my own time, but you've heard about that. For those that think I just talk a lot of talk, here's a quote from a BBC article posted today about a Microsoft researcher's work:

For example Gordon Bell, a researcher at Microsoft, is working on a project called MyLifeBits which aims to digitally store "a lifetime's worth of articles, books, cards, CDs, letters, memos, papers, photos, pictures, presentations, home movies, videotaped lectures, and voice recordings"

The latest version of the project also allows him to capture phone calls, instant messenger transcripts, television, and radio to build up a virtual surrogate memory of his life.

Sound familiar? I gave a talk at MSR in 1998 where we were showing off our ability to mass preserve lectures (using software I wrote). Yes, I was whoring out my work, but then without the makeup and skirt. I said then that not only could we preserve every class one took, but also every correspondence and media stream. I said it because I believed it, and I believed it because I was doing it!

And you thought I was just crazy, scanning all my books and notes! You didn't realize I was doing the same work as top researchers at Microsoft, ay? Gordon went about it from the other direction though, digitizing first the stuff that wasn't ephemeral, i.e., current digital information. That's why I'm doing my books and paper notes after I was already capturing all things digital... a book's the same if I scan in now or then. Probably faster and higher quality if I wait, actually. Plus, I only recently gained access to my old notes and books.

The idea to digitally preserve a lifetime of memories wasn't mine. It wasn't Gordon's either. It wasn't my advisor's, it even wasn't Arthur C. Clarke's, but rather the idea belongs to a man named Vannevar Bush... from a time before computers! Google 'Vannevar Bush Memex' and you just might find a paper or two written by me or a former student of mine that cites Vannevar as inspiration! ;)

On Ego
I always have amazing drug trips in Vancouver. The last one was with this guy's posse where I was hallucinating (!) from smoking this guy's private stash (fer real!). I totally had a transcendental experience with Becky, who unwittingly was a guide in my vision quest.

Sometimes, with premature enlightenment, there is time of confusion where the mind reels from all that it has seen. The wise stay calm, but as I was then ungrounded, for a moment, I kinda lost it, which kinda freaked her out. Well, what freaked her out was this: I was looking into her soul at a spirit very dear to me which manifested itself as an old friend. Becky could have been her twin, but didn't appreciate my comment about this.

When I realized the connection was one-way, my tripping auto-pilot made a course correction, and all was well, and she understood, since she worked for people who smoked the best dope in the Western hemisphere. But still I felt ... compelled to express to her what I couldn't in my current condition, so later, I wrote her this song, and gave it to her as I drove out of Canada.

The ego resents it might not be unique,
"I am me, I am myself, I am no other,
It is an insult to deny me my mystique!"

But some people- some spirits- some consciousnesses
are so powerful, they are more than they appear.
Such a shame to not mind the coincidences!

God is everywhere at once, as are some sages.
Buddha, Moses, Jesus, Mohammad, some saints too.
Enlightenment of thought passed on through the ages.

We can't be everywhere, but some exist in twos
Threes, and even more material projections
Becky, perhaps such a spirit exists in you!

A connection once made exists throughout all space,
time, and life; have I met you before you met me?
Why could it be you did not recognize my face?

In the spirit within you, I see an old friend,
A welcome enchantment on this traveler's quest,
I bid you farewell, until we shall meet again.

I haven't yet recorded the music, and the lyrics needs some work, but this was before meeting Ms. Meltzer and learning how to better write for songs.

Growing Stronger

Read an awesome blog entry from Our Lady J (no relation) excerpted here:

a man is screaming

faggot

he gets closer

in my face

queer

he gears his fist back to take a swing

and i run.

as i’m running

i’m thinking that perhaps i deserve this.

perhaps when i’m in line at papa john’s, i deserve death threats.

perhaps when i’m in the parking lot of wal-mart, i deserve bottles being thrown at me.

perhaps when i’m visiting my family, i deserve being locked out of their car and left behind.

so much screaming. from strangers to family. so much hatred for what i was growing up to be.

because i was queer, because i defined my own happiness.

...

i learned to surround myself with love and to shut out the people who didn’t support me.

i learned to fight back when being attacked.

i learned that i didn’t deserve the chasing, the harassment, the day to day degradation.

Lady J, Muncie is not so different from Dallas... and I am learning. I am shutting out those who don't support me... but I will be there when I can support them. I am learning to fight back... but I am also learning how to avoid attacks altogether. I don't deserve the harassment... but their words can no longer hurt me. I don't deserve the day-to-day degradation, but it reflects their insecurity, not mine.

Finally, at last... I am enjoying confusing the normals! I am enjoying making men question their own sexuality because they find me sexy. I am enjoying women taking their beauty cues from me. I will enjoy confronting those small minds, and I will enjoy being a positive role model for trans-women and -men everywhere.

Dwight

Testing out my new theory of not being afraid, I engaged in conversation a passing local citizen with whom I'd normally avoid making contact through use of combination of chance looks in wrong directions and strategic body placement.

Dwight appeared to me to be homeless and quite down on his luck. But, as I was no stranger to this time of night, I soon noticed a fairly regular walking pattern from him. Turns out, tonight I was on his path.

Clio just thought she was enjoying a cigarette.

Looks, however, can be deceiving.

Dwight was in need of medical and dental care. He either was missing part of his tongue or most of his teeth for he spoke with a marked speech impediment, and I found it necessary to concentrate with all my effort to understand his words.

At first, it was easy; she had just looked into his soul and saw the good in him.

Clio just thought she was introducing herself.

Then, his words changed from the weather to troubles times and he started speaking in a language I could not understand. Not one word or one syllable. Dwight's demeanor now changed from cheerful and pleasant, as was still the night, to scared and stormy.

I tried to understand, but all I could say was, I'm sorry, I don't understand, and he would repeat it again exactly the same as the way he had said before. I was beginning to run out of nice ways to say, "I can't hear you" when finally he shortened his sentences to just one small phrase: In the Navy. "In the Navy," he kept saying louder and louder until I acknowledged my understanding by repeating back the words.

Then again, for a brief moment I could understand his next few words, but he was speaking very quickly and his words were becoming more and more affected. At first, it was just a word here, a word there, but soon it became hard to make sense of what my ears were sensing.

In the end, I could pick out a story about parents, and it wasn't happy. Whatever trouble it was, he appeared to be saying, "it has been a year."

But since I had followed along till the end, he expected me to act in a way I could not, since I could not understand his thoughts. I could tell this would upset him, so I did what Sandra taught her to do back in London: whenever someone was talking to her in words she couldn't understand, she agreed.

Then I let slip I was from here, not realizing I just earlier agreed that I just been here a year. Both were true statements, but this seemed to set off a large number of bells and whistles in the man's psychic alert system and he suddenly became eager to part. He eagerness to leave was matched only by desire to say just one more thing that he then repeated. The last half of what he said was:

Monday afternoon. Give me until Monday afternoon and I'll get it for ya.

As he left, the rain began to fall from the sky like tears from the faces of Angels.