Adventures in the Women's Watercloset

The 14th floor of Rockerfeller center is alight with Olympic buzz... it's a main floor for NBC Olympics! It's also the floor of Bravo! television, where I found myself interviewing. After the screening, I had to take a technology exam which took a while to complete and I seriously needed a bio-break!

Now, public restrooms are a great side-benefit to being a woman; sure, the lines can be longer if you're at a crowded venue in line for the closest toilets, but they are so much cleaner than the men's room. As a boy, Vegas casino restrooms were the only ones I'd ever sit down to use, but as a girl, all bathrooms are that clean.

Back to the Olympics... today, however, I think Olympic fever has spread to the bathroom! I blame Mr. Phelps.

So, I'm in a stall, just about to do my thing, when a gaggle of girls comes in. They all go into stalls. One girl starts and finishes and exits all while we are all still in there. It was so fast, one of the other girls remarks that she's like a bathroom sprinter. Another girl starts and dumps her liquid with a force I'd never heard before. Seriously, it sounded like such a large volume of liquid evacuating so fast that her friend commented on it from the other side of the room!

"I'm a power pee'er," she said. At this, the third chimed in, I guess I'm an endurance pee'er.

I am not making this up. Not sure what kind of pee'er I was, I lingered in the stall for a few seconds while they left. It didn't take long for them to come in and get out, not for pee'ers of that caliber.

Most people think of the ice skating rink when they think of 30 Rockefeller Center, or maybe the TV show. I think of the wonderful strawberry salad I had while there. And the Olympic pee'ers.

Separate, But Not Equal

Last night the U.S. presidential delegates failed to impress. Sure, there weren't necessarily speaking to people like me or you, but rather, to people like our parents. People like our white parents. You know, the ones that put Bush in power for 8 years? Those folks.

Both said outright that they did not support gay marriage. McCain of course, would probably require a big pink "G" on all of the LGBT communities' garments, but Barrack went as far to say that he would not support the ridiculous notion that our revered constitution should be stained with this power-hungry generation's intolerance. Of course, that doesn't mean he supports gay rights: "let the states decide" is utterly deceptive swaddle-speak for, "I'm not going to support them, AND I'm not going to get in the way of others who want to oppress them."

Shame on you, Obama! One can only hope that you are masking your true colors to this group simply to get elected, when you will then turn the country on it's ear and promote equality among the genders, races, and religions.

Now, I do not consider myself gay, though I have been trying! I also do not consider myself straight, though I have tried that too. However, I simply cannot understand why straight people are so afraid/upset/angry at the idea of two men (or women) entering into marriage. At best, it's bigotry to think - for whatever reason - that you are somehow more privileged than others, and if that reason is religion, then you have a lot more in common with Hitler or the Taliban than you'd like to believe!

Obama noted that the Bible had quoted Jesus as saying: "Whatever you do for the least of my brothers, you do for me." He said the maxim should apply to victims of poverty, sexism and racism. So Mr. Obama is saying that based on our history, we're telling Jesus, "Sorry, you can't get married. But you can ride on a different bus and get paid less for the same work."

Mr McCain said he supported preserving "the unique status of marriage between a man and a woman" and that he was against the decision taken in some states to allow same-sex marriages. "That doesn't mean people can't enter into legal agreements. That doesn't mean that they don't have the right of all citizens," he said.

Um, that's exactly what it means, Mr. McCain! You are saying that gays do not have the right to get married, that is discrimination! I would buy your argument if Christians were the only set of people who got married... they aren't. Marriage is a commitment, recognized by the government, between two consenting adults irrespective of religion.

McCain also stressed that he was pro-life, as long as that life wasn't gay, bi, lesbian, transgendered, or queer. His belief on marriage ultimately says, "Marriage is only for us because we are different; we are special."
You know what it also says? "We are homophobic!

We are hear!
We have fear!
We are queer!

Go ahead McCain, hug it out. It's okay to cry. We know daddy didn't hug you enough. And try to relax Obama, don't look so tense... you're about to have all kinds of attention from older white men!

Joblympics

After two weeks of solid job-hunting, it seems the process goes like this:

1a) cold call to company (send cover letter, resume, etc.)
1b) cold call from company (want resume, skills, etc.)
1c) cold call from recruiter (want resume, skills, etc.)
2) wait for recruiters or hirers interview
3) wait for technical interview(s)
4) wait for in-person interview/personality interview
5) wait for an offer/rejection
6) barter/negotiate
7) accept or deny the job

So far the tally looks like:

2) Rockstar Games, TomTom (Amsterdam), Backbase (Amsterdam), NBC (L.A.)
3)
4) Amazon.com (Seattle), Digitas, Microsoft (Seattle), Joost, Cantor Gaming (Vegas), Bravo!
5) venture capital group #1, ZocDoc
6)
7) Heritage Web Solutions (Utah - freelance)

Heritage offers work anywhere, but at a fraction of normal rates. Could not live in New York on their earnings, but could do, say, Muncie. The work might be really easy though, so I haven't ruled them out yet.

Joost was ahead of the game, but they dropped the ball. Both Digita and Bravo! want to meet early next week, and I'm flying out to Seattle for Microsoft next week as well! :)

ZocDoc probably could have gone better, but I'm thankful they were the first real interview! I'm not sure either of us is what the other is looking for, but we're both checking each other out from across the room.

Update On Not Being A Bum

I was talking to friend, saying that my full-time job has become interviewing for a full-time job! Here's the last 24 hours, after my screening with Microsoft and technical interview with Cantor Gaming in Vegas (both went well)...

• 7:00pm - Technical interview with Mike at Amazon.com. It's technical. I pass with flying colors. Every one's happy, next up, "team fit" interview, to be scheduled.
• 8:00pm - A mix of watching Olympic History and Pirates of the Caribbean, At World's End
  
• 12:00am - Go to bed. (I know! Feeling a bit under the weather, want full 8 hours of sleep.)
• 6:30am - Wake up. That's what I get for going to be at midnight. Brush teeth, go back to bed.
• 8:30am - Get up anyway, do some OJ therapy with a NYC plain bagel. It's delicious.
  
• 8:44am - Michigan State calls, my transcripts are updated with my new name, but they won't send me one unless I send them $5 first.
• 9:00am - Alarm goes off
  
• 9:35am - Arnie from Amsterdam calls with two possible job opportunities with TomTom and Backbase. He's a recruiter, so it's still early in the process, but finally, some international leads!
• 10:01am - Ram, the VP from Digitas calls for a technical interview. They're a pretty impressive digital advertising company with some high-end clients, some of whose products I actually buy and use! He's happy, wants to schedule a personal interview. Funny note: while surfing their site, I actually came across this quote:
• 10:27am - Debriefing call with Mark, the recruiter who set thing up with Digitas
• 10:32am - Arron (another recruiter) calls with good news. Bravo! wants to do an interview! Brava!
• 10:40am - Jenna (another recruiter) calls from a Utah-based consulting firm ... this is the freelance job, $50/hour, doable anywhere. They want to hire me for work now! Brava! Brava! A JOB!!!
  
• 11:04am - Jason, a developer from Joost calls for a pre-technical interview. He's happy, tells me about the company and the role I would be playing within it. Wants to schedule an in-person interview with the CTO in New York soon. Brava!
• 11:13am - During the interview, Nick (another recruiter) calls letting me know he's submitted my resume to an undisclosed company.
  
• 11:14am - During the interview Tobias (another recruiter) calls letting me know about two possibilities, one with NBC (possibly relocating to LA) and another with Desihits.
  
• 12:20pm - Joe (another recruiter) calls and wants to set up an interview with Rockstar Games. Brava!
• 12:30pm - I type this blog and consider a celebration lunch. Hmm... maybe I better wash my face first!
  
• 2:00pm - More emails from Amsterdam, a few opportunities freelance with a Florida company, dealing with the fact that the job previously offered was only $10/hr in the fine print, (!!!) and the possibility of another role at Microsoft.
• 5:00pm - Nap. Seriously! This stuff is exhausting!
  

So... things are looking up on the job front, and we remain upbeat, for once that's settled, finding a home will be easier.

Life is good, even when it isn't! :)

Ranking Work

Today I was asked by a recruiter what was important to me in a career, and I wasn't sure what to say; I had never considered the question, and it took me walking a few miles around the city to figure it out! :)

The question was: rank from most to least important the following in relation to a career/job:

• Money
• Technology
• Benefits
• Company

This took me aback, for I had always views them as a weighted sum rather than as a ranking. (All items were important I would have said without thinking.) However, a weighted sum is not a ranking!

I knew right away that I'm not motivated by money. It's nice of course, but it's not something worth devoting a career too. I don't worship money.

Technology too, was easy to rule out. I realize there are people who eat, sleep, and breathe technology, coding even when they get home. That's fantastic; I used to be like that myself, but now I view technology merely as a tool to accomplish a larger purpose. Technology for the sake of technology has its place, but I don't worship tools.

Now benefits are important. Quality of life is important. I.E., time on, time off, work environment, health care, location, location, location, and opportunity for growth. As a former academic, I place very high value on these qualities in my life and before today would have ranked them first. (That's why when I left academia, it was to work for myself.)

To me, company means, "how well the company's ethical values line up with my value system." Do they encourage employees? Are their products ethical? Do their products make the world a better place? Enable knowledge dissemination? Reach all world citizens?

Although companies with particularly undesirable locations would require an otherwise ideal job for me to consider them, I would never consider working for a company that conflicted with my ethics and value system. In fact, I've already been turning a few down!

Thus, I would rank the items as follows, from most to least important:

1. Company
2. Benefits
3. Technology
4. Money

Yes Girl

She casts the net out, seeking for a new job, a new life, new opportunities and new cities.

A lesson learned from the ladies overseas... smile and say yes alot!

Big Things

Last night was pretty magical, as far as nights by yourself go... I walked 8 short blocks to Astoria Park (about 1/2 mile), which runs along the E. River facing Manhattan. I walked through the park, very cute, designed for families with strollers to push their kids around! There was huge pool nearby and tons of people camped out on blankets all over the grass.

Why?

It's at the foot of the Triboro bridge which cuts through massive portions above the NY skyline. Put simply, the Triboro foot is MASSIVE. Think the size of a casino as the left foot of the base of the bride but now bring it up as tall as the Vegas Paris Tower. It's so impressive to stand (or sit on the grass) next to the enormity of it all, never mind you just look left and there's the Brooklyn bridge and Manhattan. Stalin, with his love of fascist design, would have been most pleased! I felt small and nature was definitely trumped!

I actually had to pause for a few seconds to appreciate how this thing must have looked to 1900s eyes. Wow. Then I moseyed on down to the river walk and watched the sun set over the city. Magnificent colors and bold shapes slowly gave way to that familiar NY skyline at dark, again, with the Brooklyn Bridge lights shining over all of it, in much the same way the electric paintings do. In fact, I felt like I was in one of those light-up paintings!

This was my first real chance to really enjoy the city, and as it was, I felt forced to flee the home because my roommate has a boy from Boston over. I didn't really have anywhere to go Friday or Sat. night, so I just went walking around the city. Friday night was bizarre, as I attracted to me an awkward, but otherwise cute drunk boy lost looking for the tube station. I got a lecture from my friend here already on why that kind of thing doesn't happen to women like her, and evidently it has to do with a bitch vibe. I'm not sure I have that much paranoia to draw from (not have been born and grown up with the basic fears a lady needs to survive in big cities) but I tried it as I walked around the neighborhood and it just didn't seem appropriate. Too many nice faces out there living normal lives. Shrug. No, I don't have any danger filters; one of my favourite pastimes was walking around london at all times of night high, drunk, or trippin', so sober, I feel safe most anywhere.

Renting A Headache

This is the second dwelling I've been forced to vacate in two months. Third in four if you count Vedran the skinhead. I'm not living with Narcissus, but seems the young lady which offered to sublet her flat did not in fact have her landlord's blessing to do so. The landlord lives upstairs in the same building and is going through some difficult life troubles which make her a bit... prickly. Well, okay, she's being a downright bitch, and evidently has no problem defying equal opportunity housing laws, but no more will be said of her, save I hope her husband gets better soon and perhaps loves her a bit more when he does. (I shudder to think of what he did to her that has made her hate women so...)

So, once again, instead of being productive at work, enjoying life, hanging with friends, or dating, I'm now spending all my time (that wasn't already spent looking for a job) looking for a place to live. Yay me.

Recruiting A Headache

In the past three days, I have applied for over 20 different jobs, with 20 different cover letters, interviewed with at least 10 recruiters, taken two tests, aced two tests, and spoken with two different hiring managers and one venture capital manager. On the fourth day, I finished a web application for a Vegas client. Tomorrow is a face-to-face with another agency. What a week!

There are some big names in the hat: Sony-BMG, Microsoft, Amazon, Zappos, Joost, HBO, NYU. Can't say I didn't try. There's some smaller companies in there too. A gaming company in Vegas, and a global marketing firm... to quote a friend, those jobs might conflict with my morals, so I could become a stripper instead. But more on that later.

The phone starts ringing around 10am every morning. But from where? Washington? New York? Vegas? Or worse, Utah? Texas? Ah, recruiters. A process not really existing when I graduated, but one that now besets CS grads. We used to have head hunters, but those were a different beast. Nowadays one can make a career by selling other people's technical talents and some kids fresh out of college- marketing students, I imagine- aspire to being known as the person who can get quality people for your company.

Agents. On the surface, it seems absurd, companies hiring expert technicians by screening them through people who have no clue about any of the technologies. What's that say about the company? It's like people buying technology without bothering to learn about the technology, and it doesn't make sense to me. Of course, I don't hire... yet... so it doesn't have to make sense to me! After looking at my background, they sensed that I might someday soon be hiring people, so they put on a good show, hoping that I'd come to them when it came time for me to hire others.

My rock-star genius friend says that recruiters are people who can't get jobs for themselves, so they have to depend on other people to get them. Giggle. Nonetheless, I'm leaving no stone unturned, (it's a learning process, right?) so I have many such agents. They don't even tell me how much they make in commission to ask me detailed questions about technology they don't understand. They're just looking for the right or wrong answers. Or maybe not even the answers, just how you respond to the questions. Eh, I don't even want to know, I just talk nice to them so I can get through to the hiring managers.

It's like the banks in London... they all started hiring pretty, young people to stand in the lobby and be first contact for the customers. I guess it looks good having models hanging out in your store. "Hi, can I help you," they'd always ask, but if you bothered to treat them as anything more than a signpost, you'd be answered with, "have a seat and I'll get someone to help you." Cell phone places are doing that too... having attendants take your name while they fetch another employee who can actually help. Man, when I was young and pretty, oh wait, I still am... when I was younger, I had to put in long hours serving food at McDonalds. The option to be living directory wasn't an option. My, how times change!

Anyway, there are several 6-figure income leads, which is good, cause it will take six digits to live in Manhattan. Prices seem about on par with London, but I think the places are smaller. Like, $2,000 for studios, $2,500 for one bedrooms. That's per month. Seriously, I won't even consider a job here unless it affords $2,500/month for rent. If I can't land such a job, I don't belong in New York, it's that simple.

Ergo, $100K/yr = $66K/yr after taxes - ($2,500 x 12 = 30,000) = $36K/yr in my pocket after rent. That leaves $3K/month, and allowing $2K month for food, clothing, transportation, and entertainment, that's just $1K/month savings.

LOL! $1K/month savings making $100K/yr! But hey, you give to live large in NYC, Manhattan and still save money. So, $100K is my minimum. Fortunately, most people think I could garner higher wages. Cool. Let's see what happens.

Still, it's just a small flat. That kind of money (with more savings) yields a penthouse suite, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking mountain, oceans, or the Vegas strip, so I'm struggling with the idea of paying that much for the privilege of living in Manhattan. Of course, these high paying jobs aren't in Vancouver or Vegas either. Jury is out for Seattle; Microsoft again, didn't even blink an eye at $100K/yr.

Second Epilation Session

So it's taken a long time for my skin (chin) to heal from the last epilation session. Fortunately, life provided enough frustration that I was ready to once again to literally, rip out all of the hair on my face.

Remember, the rationale here is based on prior results. I used to epilate my body and it hurt, now the hair just comes right out. The thinking is that, if I stick with this, eventually, the hair on my face will just come right out and I'll be able to epilate my face as quickly and easily as using an electric razor.

LOVE not having to shave every day! It's such a guy thing anyway, shaving your face.

LOVE having a smooth face! I can't tell you how much more natural it feels than stubble.

LOVE not having ANY trace of beard. I love that I don't have to wear makeup to cover up the hair, visible beneath the surface of my face.

This time wasn't too bad; mostly got hairs that weren't growing during the last plucking session. The sides of neck and face didn't hurt, but chin is still tender. Lip area okay, though it doesn't feel good. Upper lip still hurts with each pluck- like it goes straight into my brain, but, that too is manageable with the right mindset. Putting on a tough girl face really helps. Grrr!

Settled

New York, well, Queens, just across the East River, is quite a change from the desert, but it's a nice place. It's like London, only American. :) I now have 7 weeks to find a job and then, a place to live, but that should be plenty of time for both, right? (fingers crossed)

I'll keep you posted, but so far the LGBT scene here is pretty amazing. I'm hoping to get out this week and start meeting people; it's just been a bit stressful moving, ya know? I guess the good news is that I moved my home, my office, and my bod 3,000 miles and was only down for 5 days. Not bad, eh?

Six In The City

Made my first trip into Manhattan today NY... I'm living a block or two away from the 'N' line. (Cute, cause in London, I lived a block away from the 'Northern' line!)

The trains are air-conditioned. Whoo-hoo! Otherwise I don't know how one could stand the heat. It's seriously oppressive here... says the girl who is used to walking around in 120 degrees. C'mon, say it with me now, "Relative Humidity!" :)

I desperately needed to find some sort of sleeping device. The room I'm renting came with a bed, but the poor mattress was shot. "Feel every spring in the mattress" is an understatement. So once again, the quest for 1/3 of my days in some sort of comfort takes center stage.

I found it funny that listening to ATL music... literally, music I recorded off of the Internet from an Atlanta based radio station fit the vibe of the city. Nonetheless, it was an enjoyable walk from the tube to where I needed to go.

First stop: Bloomingdales, where I pimped out on Lancome products with the help of Richelle and free gifts with purchase. I buy my moisturizer there, and though people tell me that the products aren't worth the money, 1) I disagree, and 2) I usually get key makeup ingredients for free, so it's actually a pretty good deal. Bloomingdales rocks.

Next stop: Nat Sherman. Walking into the store put me right back into London. Because a friend wanted to visit every cigar shop in London, I did too, and each one is was a throwback to pure class. This store proved no different, first-class service (they even gave me free smokes) and old-world wooden style made visiting a real treat. Too bad you can't get Cubans here in America.

Headed toward the mattress store I found Jamba Juice, my all-time favorite California store, tied with Baja Fresh. Imagine my surprise when, finally, I could order off the menu! Yes, they finally have menu items for "fruit + ice, nothing else". Strawberries, Bananas, Cherries oh my!

Next was Aldo, another taste of London. I think I bought all of my shoes there and at Top Shop. I didn't buy anything today, which was hard; 50% off sale!

Along the way another favorite, Victoria's Secret. Now if you look, you'll see as their address, "London" but did you know there isn't one VS store in all of London? The buggers even have a listing in the phone book! Imagine my disappointment when I arrive there only to find that it's nothing more than ... well, nothing. There weren't any signs of any businesses at that address. They never answered the phone either. I smell something fishy. Anyway, I needed some lotion, so thankfully, this one was an actual store.

Finally arriving at Sports Authority. LOL, yes, SA to get a bed. I opted for the Coleman Queen size air mattress. I love the fact that you can buy a queen size bed in a box smaller than the Wii box! At least now I'll always have a bed!

It's heavy though, so I made straight for home afterward. Thanks to Miss Winn's help, I was able to navigate the subway like a local and get home before dark, exhausted, but looking forward to a great night's sleep.

Death In The Alley Next Door

Tonight I met the long-term boyfriend of my very, very good friend, Miss Winn. Almost 10 years now we've gotten to know each other, and with each passing year I come to admire her spirit more. Now that we live on the same side of the ocean, the same side of the continent, the same side of the same city, there came the occasion to have dinner with her and her beau.

Mr. R is impressive in his own right, cute, funny, and totally in love with her. It was a very enjoyable evening of Greek food (though I would have sworn mine was Italian) and music (though I would have sworn it was Spanish). There are so many good food choices in New York, one almost can't get hungry fast enough!

Dinner comes and goes and we take a side street under a huge concrete arch with clever graffiti and past an impressive orthodox-looking church. You know, the original church of Jesus Christ before all that Catholic corruption and stuff with the Pope causing the East-West Schism?

As we reach my house (Miss Winn's bf lives a block away) there's a Chinese man, obviously distraught, telling us about a dying animal in the alley that just got hit by a car. Seriously put a damper on an otherwise great evening. Mr. R calls 311 as they say goodbye, but I just can't go on like nothing happened... I can't resume life as normal with a dying soul right there, probably afraid, confused, and in massive amounts of pain. I go in the alley between my house and the next building to be with the cat. Its left hip has been badly broken, easily evident from the Cirque-style contortion of his legs.

I'm crying as I type this, it was just awful... the poor thing was a total alley cat, no collar, no owner, a real survivor in this man-made city. His hair was sooty to the touch on both his neck and back, the places where he couldn't clean himself and where no-one else did. I first met him the night before, enjoying a meal out of a discarded food container. The cat, not me.

Animals generally take a liking to me, and such was the case with Amsterdam - the name I gave him posthumously. He wasn't bothered by my presence and as I was content to just enjoy the night, we shared each other's company while he enjoyed dinner.

Now here he was, gasping for breath, obviously in great pain, unable to move. I sat next to this dying creature, right next to the garbage, and spoke softly to it while rubbing it's head and neck until I could get him to calm down. It was just awful... the poor thing kept looking at me as if to say, "HELP ME" and all I could do was just talk to it and rub it's head. "Please," I said to the man who pointed out this poor creature, "fetch some water?" The man leaves me alone with Amsterdam while Miss Winn and Mr. R rush upstairs to search for information online - 311 was not of much help as it seemed anyone who was capable of helping was closed on this fateful Friday night.

Now alone with Amsterdam, I wished I had the wisdom, strength, and courage to break his neck and end his suffering, but that was not to be my role. I honestly believed that a vet would soon arrive and take care of this animal. Amsterdam seemed to calm down and be at peace. I began to believe that he would be okay.

My neighbor Chi (as in Arabic for tea), returns with some water. As he crouches down next to us, Amsterdam, lying on his right side, slowly tries to raise his left paw over his face. I take a few capfuls of water and pour them over his lips, hoping that he'll take a drink... but there's no reaction.

I suddenly notice my other hand on his belly is no longer moving... he's stopped breathing. Right then and there, in my arms, he died. It was awful... when he stopped breathing I instantly knew he was dead, but there were still lingering body spasms which made the people now taking notice think he was still alive. I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

Just then, another neighbor arrives with a box- initially designed to be a recovery bed for Amsterdam, it was now serving double-duty as a coffin.

Rest in peace, Mr. Amsterdam. I could not ease your suffering, but I could not let you journey into the next world frightened and alone. No spirit deserves that fate, especially one as magnificent as yours.

New York State of Mind

Landed safely in New York, and so far it is everything I thought it would be. Looks a bit different from the Vegas version, ay?

Suffice it to say I'm safe, sound, and working on next steps which might keep me a bit preoccupied for a while; so apologies in advance for what might seem like a colossal lack of updating. If that bothers you, try subscribing to the RSS feed (okay Atom feed) below to be notified of updates. Don't forget, if you want to stay in touch, you can always send a email or ring me.

Peace, love, and music, baby!

First Night In New York...

I wanted to come to New York and gain some experience with playwrighting. Little did I know that on my first night here, I'd be on stage, in a re-enactment of the scene from Friends where Chandler gets locked in a vestibule with Victoria's Secret model Jill Goodacre. Of course, I'm playing the role of Jill, but in an ironic and daring twist of street theatre, I'm also playing the part of Chandler!

Going on 8 hours of sleep in 72 hours, I minimally unpacked and after a wonderful lunch/orientation with Miss Winn, at 1pm, was about to take a nap when the doorbell rang. Oooh! Visitors!

I head down the stairs, into the vestibule and see a FedEx sticker attached to the front door window. Oooh! Visitors with gifts!

I open the door, try to catch Mr/Miss FedEx, but they drive away. Oh well. Can't Winn them all. As I grab the sticker there's an audible 'click'. My stomach sinks. The door knob does not turn!

I'm locked inside the vestibule- a 3x3 tiled room, split in half with two steps and rough carpet designed to get NY muck off your shoes. No phone, no keys, no money, just me and two copies of sports illustrated, one cigar aficionado, and one TONY. Two hours later and I'm well versed on ESPN's new fantasy football league on Facebook, non-cuban cigars from the Dominican Republic, and what's going on in New York this week. Even learned Italy's answer to Futball American... a strange game that's a mix of ultimate fighting, soccer, and football. I felt like the luckiest girl in the whole world! Not! I longed for a Vogue...

I guess I should have found a place in TONY where I could meet a man who would be impressed with my sudden, unplanned knowledge of fantasy football and cigars. Shrug. More important matters were pressing... like my bladder!

Three hours go by and the three glasses of water and 1/2 glass of diet coke are done with their tour of me. They urgently want to continue their tour of New York via the sewer system. It's broad daylight with people teeming everywhere. Another hour goes by... it hurts really bad. Another hour goes by... can't take it any more. I hear the sounds of bottles clinking outside. Some homeless lady is going through the recyclables. She leaves. I peep out, attach the door to the wall so I'm not locked outside, make a mad dash to the trash bin, pull out a wine bottle, and stroll back to the front door. My choice in urinals was not perfect; this bottle of wine was opened with a knife that only cut the topmost foil leaving behind a rather sharp tiny circle for me to work with. My kidneys hurt so much, this might actually feel good.

Logistics dictate that the going was slow (yay kegels!), yet I'm terrified someone might now come home. LOL, what a way to meet the neighbors! I'm holding the bottle by the neck and am about 3/4 done when I feel a very warm sensation through the glass... the bottle is completely filled!

Now, only one time before I peed into a cup... I was 18 and started a 50 mile drive to the mall with a 32 oz glass of Mountain Dew. The drink was gone in 10 miles, and though I made it to the mall, I was unable to make it inside to a restroom. So, being the resourceful type, I peed into the same empty cup that was previously just full with Mt. Dew. To my surprise, when finished, I had completely filled the cup!

Perhaps it was the boredom of sitting alone in a tiny room, or maybe it's just a fact of peeing into bottles, but there is a momentary sense of accomplishment in holding such a large quantity of liquid that was just inside oneself. Mostly though, there was relief. The sky was getting dark and I knew I could now wait the rest of the night, so spirits were up.

7 hours later, Warrin from down the hall comes home and rescues me. I had to convince him I was was who I was, but that was aided by having friends with cute and memorable faces.

Exhausted, I then slept for 18 hours straight.

OUCH!

It took two days, but I did something I never could have imagined doing earlier in my transition... I epilated - pulled out hair by the root - my entire face!

Worst pain ever.

I first started epilating way back in 1999, though then it was just tweezing out the hairs around my nipples. Hairy chests were okay, but a smooth nipple area makes for happy nibbling.

Eventually, I bought a machine which looked like a normal electric razor to epilate my legs. The shins didn't hurt. Knees were kinda painful, but the upper legs hurt like hell. Inner thighs was the worst pain ever... until I did my belly. Ouch! That was the worst pain ever... until I did my chest! Arms not so much.

That was then, and now, it actually feels good to epilate. The roots are no longer twice as large as the shaft, and so the the hair is thinner and comes out quite easily and with no pain. In fact, it feels like scratching an itch... almost pleasant.

Well, the idea is that if I can stick with the face long enough, epilating my face will be a pain-free way to keep my face baby smooth.

All this cause I can't afford any more laser hair removal, which when I first started became the new worst pain ever! I never thought I'd ever feel anything that hurt like that... it was like getting punched in the face over and over and over.

So, armed with the bravado, I figured, what the heck, I can get through this.

It wasn't easy. The first night I used the same trick I used when I first got to my belly and chest... get real drunk. Alcohol numbs just great. Getting high only makes you more sensitive and thus, makes it hurt more, but a good buzz helps. Finished almost 1/2 bottle of Disorono to get through most of my neck.

The trick I used was this... normally I'm on a 24-hour shave cycle, but 12 hours in, I started pulling out the hairs that grew quickly. I could do my whole face this way without too much pain. The pain comes from pulling out the hairs in quick succession, and from the hairs that require more than one tweeze to get tugged out.

So, I'd epilate, wait an hour, epilate, wait an hour, epilate, wait an hour, and I could only hold out one more time. The rest would have to be shaved in Milwaukee. Still, I had managed to pull out an impressive amount of hair.

This time, however, I had full-on hair growth; 36 hours into my cycle and 24 hours after the first session. All hairs on my face were exposed. I started from the bottom of the neck and almost an hour later I had about 50% of the neck done. Awful pain, and unfortunately, it was to be the 50% of the neck that hurt the least!

Determined, I continued, taking breaks ever now and then because it just hurt that much. Of course, during the breaks, I'd still tweeze like mad, pulling out hairs one at a time. This method doesn't hurt, but ... it's awful slow. I would first do a quick sweep on an area to get the pain receptors warmed up and then bring in the epilator for mass uprooting.

The sides of the cheeks were pretty easy going; finishing the neck was hard, but drawing on my awesome ability to endure pain, I persevered. Under the chin was the new worst pain ever until I got to the upper chin, sides of chin, and then the lip area.

I don't think this would be possible for someone who hasn't already lost the majority of their hair due to laser removal or electrolysis - there's just too much hair on the face and it's just too thick and the face is just too sensitive. Took me over two hours to get through the face and 12 hours later, the chin area still hurts.

But, my face is smoother than I've ever felt it. Smoother than with shaving, sanding, Nairing, you name it. I'm already addicted to having a smooth face. Plus, with nearly 3/8" of hair under the skin gone, my face is oh so much brighter and whiter, if just a bit temporarily red and barely swollen.

When they said beauty is pain, this must have been what they were talking about!

The alternative? A really good story about how to kill hair can be found here.

What Whore Moans Look Like...

Walked down to the sushi shop on the corner, felt pretty.

On the way there, a man rolls by slowly in a Caddy, driving through the parking lot adjacent to the sidewalk.

"Hey there, baby, I saw you doing your thing."

My thing was listening to music while I walked. Maybe I byounced a little at the traffic light; wasn't paying attention... B'youncie was playing... who knows?

Evidently, I didn't act like a hooker would. He picked up on that pretty quick. Most of the black guys who have been into me seemed quite adept at social cues. I have to admit, based on my small sample size, they ooze confidence and style in a way the other boys don't. It's pretty sexy.

Anyway, I let him know I was just meeting a friend for Sushi (I lied) and he was content to just watch me walk away before pulling out of the parking lot.

Now at the local headshop, where I went on my first day here in Vegas, and many times since, the local shopkeep is amazed I didn't find a man to stay with out here. He literally can't believe it! I guess I passed to him way back then and still now. This surprised me as it's very, very bright inside his store and I've spent hours in there. He actually asks the next customer who enters (a cute young man) if he wants to come party tonight with me, but not before telling me that the going rate for in-call sex services are around $100. Is he a pimp-wanna-be?

Of course I could have found a man and a place... but that's the trap of Vegas and I wasn't about to fall into it! Seems a lot of people here are looking for someone to take care of them, either by winning money from the casino or finding a sugar daddy. The sad part is that the casinos are actually kinder than the men. The casinos just take your money, the men take your self-respect.

On the way home, a Mexican in a bright red truck actually u-turned and wanted to give me a 'ride' home. A little drunk on sake (the fermented rice beverage, not raw salmon), I humor the boy. There's no way I'm getting into his truck, but let's see where this goes.

Awkward. At least he knows what he wants. I reassure him that I live on the block and I was looking forward to walking off a bit of dinner, and head on my way.

Sweet. I'm ready for New York!

PS- the book is for women going through menopause, not M2F...

Stay Tuned...

Update: the last 14 days have been a whir. Or maybe a blur. No, both. As the Phoenix rises up from the ashes and begins life anew, somewhat disconcerted at its sudden demise and rebirth, so too does Clio find a new world emerging from the end of the old. More details to come. There are many back-posts to appear and more to be written, but, suffice it to say that panic mode is now over and after two weeks of intense work and seeking a new existence, life is once again looking up! And we give thanks...

What Hormones Look Like

The medicine arrived today! Yay!!! God bless the Internet and trans-friendly on-line drug stores that don't require a prescription.

So I as transition off the old brands (some generic, some branded) to the new ones (some generic, some branded) there's a 17-day transition period until I'm fully on the new brands. Here's what that looks like:

The white pills are 25mg of spironolactone (branded as Aldactone) in 100mg doses. Spironolactone is commonly used to treat congestive heart failure or high blood pressure. I take it for the side-effects: breast growth and its anti-androgen properties. (It stops hair growth in women who have hair hair where most women don't by suppressing a male hormone that causes hair growth). I went with 4-25mg pills instead of 1-100mg pill (then) because the former is $4/mo and the latter is $120/mo. Doesn't make sense to me either. They will be replaced with one larger, chalkier pill which costs $16/mo.

The oval blue pills are generic finasteride in 5mg doses. Used mainly to treat prostate swelling in men I use it because it decreases production of testosterone. They will be replaced with the larger blue round ones, the same drug, but branded as Fincar and costs $26/mo.

The tiny green pill is 2mg of generic estradiol... estrogen. Used mainly by women who have stopped producing it on their own, this hormone is used for its primary effects. I found this little guy hiding among the oval blue pills. Costing around $30/mo, they are replaced by the smaller round blue pills, the same drug branded as Estrofem, $15/mo.

The pink pill is just baby aspirin, taken to thin the blood slightly as there is an increased risk of blot clots (and strokes) from a daily regimen of this feminine cocktail of drugs. The increased risk is small, but higher in women who smoke. I know one pack a month doesn't really qualify me as a smoker- not really- but since I do and there is, I will. $2/mo.

Not shown are the postage-sized clear stickers of estrodial (branded as Estradot) that deliver 2mg/day over 4 days. Gotta keep them sealed up in foil until ready to use, and these little babies are expensive! $60/mo. Why take the same drug twice? Drugs absorbed transdermally (through the skin) go straight to the blood; no messing with the liver. Since my liver often processes C₈H₁₀N₄O_{2 (}caffine), C₁₀H₁₄N₂ (nicotine), C₂₁H₃₀O2 ₍tetrahydrocannabinol... THC... pot), and CH₃CH₂OH (Ethanol), it only makes sense to ease the load on the liver whenever I can. LOL, other than that, and consuming C₁₂H₁₇N2O4P (psylocybin... magic mushrooms) whenever they present themselves, I'm pretty drug-free!

So that's the most common way to change your sex (from M2F). I'll find a specialist soon and tailor the doses and drugs based on my specific needs.

It really is a miracle to watch the transformation. Better living through chemistry! :)

You Loved Me Cause You're Crazy

Met a man today, he thought I was pretty.
He said come live with me, stay with me,
You need a big strong man to take care of you.

He said everything I needed to hear.
And oh he was handsome, and strong enough
to sweep me off my feet.

But don't ask me why,
When he found out
I used to be a guy,
He took it all away.

So many empty promises, so much untrue.
Tell me, what 's a woman to do?
So I packed up my clothes
and left all those troubles behind.