Like TV: a sunny and rolling landscape, like widescreen California, where youth with magical secrets receive their elixirs. Each bottle strangely numbered to indicate its effects. I secretly quaff those of a fried, her numbers are 3-6-9. Drink this one and I look so young, I look how I feel when I play the larp character Emily the Science Nerd and I realize what was supposed to happen when I was fifteen, but which was derailed by being in the closet. How odd. How pleasant, this. My friend, experience and gothy, she says there's a drawback, a bounce, a price. I'm curious, but not deterred.

Moving on.

Dropping and being someone in a dream is nice, but what happens when the dream is done? Do they wake up with missing time, or do they remember being your puppet? Will this good ol' boy like the fact that a transsexual was dreaming that I was him? At least I did so unknowingly and didn't destroy his life. Saul is out there, and he joyrides his host bodies. And here he comes, angry.

I drift outside of the man I am riding. I let him speak. He's not happy about this. I explain myself, the situation, and leave.

I am a guest here.

This time I wake up in the traveller's lodge. In a body built to spec. It's my proxy self. A fluid disposable with no original consciousness. Much more ethical. And it looks different from how I do day to day. It looks like all those other women who, in my waking life, rounded out the audition room for the EMT role: dark hair in a long ponytail that suits her face, that doesn't make her look like a long-haired rocker boy. Fit, like I am now, but not in such a way that makes her afraid to stretch, lest she tear the shoulders out of her blouse. Someone who had time to be functional, and isn' racing to make up for a decade and a half inching along in the closet. Oh, and a tan. I'm through with sunburns.

It's not that bad in waking life. In waking life, I look pretty sharp, my health is good, and people generally assume I'm a woman. But what's important here, More importantly, most importantly, she's not like the person I remember seeing in the mirror all through the wrong puberty. Not like that ghost that is riding me. As her, I have space.

The body isn't stable of course. But the first thing I could do when I figured out how to work a basic lucid dream is to dream my way into a more comfortable body. And it's an improvement. But even when my focus shifts, and my subconscious self image reasserts itself, my body stays female.
Right. I should really tell people.

I see Christopher, or at least his parallel, and I ask him if he saw The Thirteenth Floor. "Because it's like that."

He's skeptical of course. But this is a dream. And I've been lucid dreaming for a bit and I have my tricks. In this case, telekinesis. Observe sir.

Now he's starting to get it.

Of course, I'm not the only rider in here. There are people here from six, seven universes up. People who stop through my waking life on their way here.

I will swim back up with them later.

It's hard to have a tete a tete with the divine when I feel that doing so is the antithesis of busy.

But I know that this is self-care. And that "busy" isn't always "useful" let alone "productive," "just" or "wise." Often, it's quite the opposite.

Less "working harder." More "doing well (and being well, one hopes)."


Practice? Maybe with others?
Some women will put a slice of wedding cake under their pillow.

They hope to dream of the man they're going to marry.

I tried this.

On the third night, I dreamed of uplinking to a multigendered five-person hubmind.

I swoon just thinking about it.
I need to remember to tell people:

before we go do mushrooms, you should know that for me this is less about entertainment, and more about psycho-spiritual intensity

Today it was JP and I at Burnaby Mountain. It was intense. And it was good.

Two facets; one person )

The people at the bike shop on Commercial (the big one with the bikes out front) took a look at it and told me that I'd be looking at $150 just to fix it up to minimum running, with more repairs in the future, and that it might be worth $50 if I were to sell it.

I bought a bicycle at a garage sale for $15. After some fidgeting with the breaks, and, after an exhausting slog, realizing that I should really make sure the tires are inflated, I took it out.


Out to BCIT and back via the scenic mostly lost route. I got to explore the city. Fun!

So now I am busy prepping it up and swapping out tires and handle widgets.
I also need a pipe wrench: the seat stock is stuck.

I think a little ceremony to bless or name it might be in order.
So I've finally posted the renaming stuff here. Now what?

Read more... )

Strange - after a bit of a lull, I seem to be back going over my queer issues.

(Note the use of the term "queer issues" and not "gender issues. See below)

Following my own advice, I plan to look at the context and not hold back with my thoughts.
You know what to do - giv 'er! )
One week to go until the renaming ritual. This is a fairly significant occasion and doens represent if not a break, then a discontinuity in my identity. So I have something for those of you who want to feel that you've engaged with it in some capacity - or if you know someone who would but who doesn't read my LJ.

1. Come to the housewarming/renaming/meet-my-cousin party in about a month

2. Send me a note containing, one thing that you hope that I can:
    (a)    shed from my old identity, way of living and/or interaction with you
    (b)    keep from my old identity and way of living and/or interaction with you
    (c)    avoid in my new identity and way of living and/or interaction with you
    (d)    find my new identity and way of living and/or interaction with you

You can do one, two, there, all four. You can pick more than one item from one category and/or skip another. You can be glib, frank, solemn or brusque. You can send it by email, by post, hand it to me, drop it off, use one of the King's messengers, or carve it in a bathroom stall. Or you can not send a note at all, but just acknowledge it whatever way you see fit and for which you have time. Do whatever suits you.

I'm compiling a list of things that surprise me to do with transition, but one of them has to be how much this intensely personal project interacts with, entwines or relies on other people.

Hence- Public notices for the near future

1. I'm going to sound funny

Female hormones do not affect one's voice, so it takes lots and lots of practice to change. I will also have to cut in and out, and it's hard to maintain. I don't know how it will sound in the end.

In any case, it's a validating feeling to not wonder why this male voice that seems to come out of my mouth when I talk.

2. I am having a renaming ritual from Friday thru Sunday on the August long weekend.

As a ritual where I enter an ecstatic state, it will double as a project for Archeaology. It will also be a general adulthood initiation ritual as I've found for the first time that I feel like I have my adult shit together (being in the right sex helps).

1 - divesting myself of my transitional name of "Sasha"
2 - a trial in the form of harsh interrogation
3 - symbolic death, divesting myself of the name "Graham"
4 - a day of not interacting with anyone
5 - symbolic rebirth and renaming

First off, should you see me on Saturday the 4th, I ask you not to interact with me in any way. I'm a ghost, right?

If you want to participate, comment or email me. I should warn you though that the portions requiring participation are going to be intense, and if you are squicked by the sorts of behaviour found in some intense religious ritual or kink, then you'll be squicked by this too.

3. I am having a Rites of Passage Party on the 24th, 25th or 26th of August.

It will be a community event. If you've had a major change in your life, whether it's your maritial status, your graduation, quitting school, changing your name and/or gender, stopping an old habit or whatever, this will be the time and place to announce or re-announce it and have at least part of your community affirm it. If enough people are interested, I may need a sizable space.


Jun. 30th, 2007 01:30 pm
Quite the party last night!

I'm still posting transgender stuff on my journal, but there'll be another shift in character.

1 - I began in August and September with "holy shit, I think I'm trans - is this right?"

2 - This segued into "Okay.... What does this feel like? How do I deal with it?"

3 - Then came navigating the medical system and starting to fiddle with my appearance.

At present, this involves looking at long-term health issues, nutrition, and surgical options. I'm also getting carry papers (documents stating "yes this person is female") and doing a legal name change.

4 - Following this came the hormones and their effect on me. I'm a little disappointed to know that I'm on or very near to a full dose, and there won't be any other sudden changes in my biochemical-cognitive interaction.

My dreams continue to be shockingly vivid (progesterone). Even when waking, I can no longer ignore my subconscious, and even overlooking it is a feat. I have more energy and am happier - I think this is what it feels like when you're starting to be not depressed instead of fighting depression. It's been more than half my life since I could say that. Trans ain't the only reason for this, but it goes a long way.

5 - Now I'm into a stage of presenting, with or without effort, as decidedly female and noting how this feels - what the reactions are, how I feel about those, and how feeling and perception interect. This is where the sociologist is happy and the shy girl is intimidated.

More to come, of course.

On a side not, I'm thinking of a remaning party in late August that could also serve as a community right-of-passage party.

Done something notable in the last year? Graduated? Changed something important? Want to announce something? Have a request for the community? Comment and we can maybe it can be worked in. follow up on the last post

Most of the other deaths in my life were expected The second death was my paternal grandmonther, who'd been fighting with cancer, and so her death was no surprise. I don't remember why my mom went to the funeral and not myself. My Paternal grandfather died suddenly, but I made the trip and saw his body. My maternal grandfather was obviously anticipating dying when I went to see him last.  My maternal grandmother, who died last spring, was the fifth human death. She was ill first. I went to see her knowing that she was dying. I got there, and she died the next morning, then I saw her again. Animal deaths too. Rags, my dog died suddenly and painfully, but I was there when it happened.

The exception to this is the first death: that of my father. He killed himself with car exhaust. I think it was in my grandparents garage. It know it was on Easter weekend in 1987. On Sunday, two men came to the door, I don't remember any more than that. I was told that he died. My mother was concerned that if I saw the body, my nightmares (which often shifted into walking night terrors, would worsen). I agreed: nightmares needed to be managed. So I didn't see his body.

As a consequence, twenty Fathers Days later, I will have dreams where he's still alive. Unlike the other dreams with dead relatives, I can't say "Waitaminute, I saw you on your way out." With my father, there's an explanation: he faked his death and ran off, or I'd been chronically misinformed. In my sleep, I have no evidence to contradict.

I guess this is one of the reasons why you might want to see the body.



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