December 7, 2007
Last Full Day in SFO
I feel kind of bad that I haven’t posted (really) yet today, given how much I’ve been posting over the last few days, but we’ve been out since I posted earlier this morning, and we just got back.
As a result, this is super long, and I hope not boring…. Please please please read to the end… all the way, no skipping, it’s the important part.
(Sorry, a lot of this is going to sound like product placement but hey, that was our day!)
Last night was a late one for us, so we did get a bit of a slower start (even the Samwich), but we had to be out by 930a to get the rental car parked a bit a way and bring it back (had to get the car moved by 10a because of non-resident SFO parking rules).
On the way to get the car we stopped for coffee (sorry, I forget which one… I’ll update when Anh’s awake and I can ask her). I got coffee and Anh a croissant (she was hungry), and while I was putting sugar in my small latte, this guy, kind of burly guy comes up to me and says “How did you break your nose?”. I said “I didn’t – I just had a little surgery done.” He smiles and said, “Well, when I broke mine, it really hurt for the first day, but after that it wasn’t bad. I hope that yours doesn’t hurt that much. It’s good to see you out and about – good for you man!” I smiled and said “Yeah, it doesn’t really hurt at all anymore, and this all comes out tomorrow anyway – thanks!” This was the first time that anyone had said anything about the various wraps and contraptions that I’ve been carrying around San Francisco and San Jose this week – and from the blog, you can tell we haven’t exactly been sitting around in a spider-hole. I thought his comment and question was honest, caring, and extremely sincere. It was honestly a very nice thing for him to have done. It was a great way to start the day.
I drove the car back to Avis, and Anh walked carrying Samwich (because that’s just the way she rolls). About a month ago Anh got an “Ergo Baby” (http://www.ergobabycarrier.com/) carrier because Samwich had become too heavy for the Baby Bjorn to be worn comfortably (it carries the weight mostly on your shoulders – the Ergo Baby is primarily hip, with shoulder straps that carry the load as well). It can be used with the baby in the front or the back, but the baby always faces “In” toward the carrier – a disadvantage over the Baby Bjorn. One of Samwich’s most delightful moment was to be outward facing in the Baby Bjorn. For a while it was the best way to get him to consistently belly laugh (and it still melts me!). The other advantage of the Ergo Baby over a hard frame backpack is that its easier for one person to get the baby in/out – and its also WAY easier to travel with. (Because it’s soft.)
One of our favorite purchases in the past year has been a Garmin Nuvi 270 navigator (https://buy.garmin.com/shop/shop.do?pID=9316&locale=en_US). We got this for a trip to Italy this summer – and it was a lifesaver. (The 270 has US and EUR maps preloaded – other versions have different sets) Italian roads are notoriously hard to figure out, especially in the cities (Florence, Rome) and even more so in the countryside (e.g. Tuscany), where the maps are basically useless, and the signs border on maniacally inaccurate. It is/was great when both walking and driving, and is super small. We thought we might just use this sometimes. However, we’ve become addicted. Whenever we travel someplace where both of us aren’t very very familiar, we bring it. Anh has been to SFO a ton and drove, but I’ve been here a lot and used cabs. Today, getting the car from Noe Valley down to Post was a piece-of-cake. It even helped me find the closest gas station to avoid the $6.99/gal charge for them to do it. Anyway, I use Garmin stuff for driving and I trust mine and my friends and families lives to them for aviation ( http://www.garmin.com/garmin/cms/site/us/intheair/ ) (both built-ins (a GNS530/430/transponder stack) and a handheld (the GPSMAP 396 w/XM WX, Music, Terrain – its helped us do trips with safety that I could have only previously dreamed of. I think the big iron drivers wish that they had something like a GPSMAP 396, or the even faster/brighter GPSMAP 496. They are the best thing to happen to general aviation safety in a very long time.) I hate to blather on, but man, their stuff just rocks. And, it just works easily, which says a lot in these days of tech simplicity. (I actually used the GPSMAP 396 as an example of a full-featured, but easy to use product for specialists (e.g. pilots, or IT Pros) at work the other day – as something we should aspire to be as good as.)
I appear to have lost my Verizon Data Card somewhere between here and the hospital – tried a bunch this morning to see if they had it – no luck. Will have to go grovel for a new one when we get back to Seattle, we are not even six months in the contract for that hardware. D’oh! Honestly, I can’t live without one. I love having the Internet, at great speed virtually everywhere all the time. The best is at some offsite meeting where they have “Wireless”, but it can’t scale for the number of people trying to connect. Have Data Card, no worries! If the Nuvi was the best tech buy this year, the Data Card was it for last year. Must replace card of happiness!
Anyway, after dropping off the car uneventfully (thank you Avis!), I called Anh, walked a couple blocks, and found her in Union Square. We went into a few stores – she found a super cool new pair of sunglasses – but didn’t find much else. She said “Why don’t we go through Chinatown?” I said to Samwich – “Samwich, learn this well my son… when your Momma *suggests* that we go to Chinatown, its not a suggestion. It’s a strong, heartfelt request. If you love her, go.” Guess what, we went! Anh sampled a few of the places with buns – Sesame Balls, Hum Bao, and some other stuff. At this point, it had started to rain pretty well, but hey, we are Seattleites, and we were surprised and confused by many people’s uses of these odd items which seemed to be intended to ward off the rain, doesn’t fleece work in San Francisco?
In any case, we worked out way down to the Ferry Terminal to have lunch with another woman staying here at the Cocoon House. We got there first, she was much delayed, so we decided to go to Mistral and have lunch. (No good website/link… sorry!) They have a great selection of roti meats and lots of interesting sides they sell by the ounce (great way to try a ton of stuff). We got a Moroccan Lamb Stew, Couscous with Raisins and Honey, Jambalaya with Chicken and Pork, roasted squash, some mac and cheese (eating hard stuff for me – still a non-starter), and Chicken Noodle Soup. For all that stuff, and a couple of drinks it was only $20 – very reasonable.
Anh started feeding the Samwich, and he was loving the chicken noodle soup. Now, his alimentary canal was one way for almost a whole day, and he held down breakfast very well. All of a sudden, BLAMMO. Emergency stomach evac. Now, at this point, we are wise in the ways of barf. I saw him start to have the barfy face, I said to Anh – “Anh, Barfy Face – quick point it away!” She did, and the overspray was very limited.
I went into Mistral and said “Our son just vomited, can you bring out a mop?” The super nice woman behind the counter had this look like “That really sucks”, and said “I’m really sorry – I’ll be right out.” We covered up the spew w/napkins to do our best to not completely disgust passers by (The Ferry Building is a very interesting super-high end food-courty plus fresh market place. Very few of the restaurants have seating inside – Mistral does not, is out on the very wide hall, across the hall from the restaurant). She came out with a mop and rags and dropped the rags on the stuff, and started to bend down. She grabbed the rags and I thought “No, not another one”. I feel like I’m 28 Days Later (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0289043/) (not the Sandra Bullock one – although that was also a scary movie http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0191754/ – and its also just “28 Days” ) at this point with the number of people that Samwich (aka the Rotavirus Typhoid Mary – so cute – but so deadly) has struck down. I said “Please wait. Our son probably has rotavirus which sucks, and is very contagious. We both have been exposed, so stop, let me do this, and go wash your hands – a lot – and don’t touch your face at all – or any other part of you if your hands touched the barf, until your hands are super clean.” She said “Wow, ok – thanks – I’ll be right back” I cleaned up the worst of it, then she came back w/the mop and gloves (smart!), and I picked up the rags and paper towels, and um, other stuff, and she said “How about if we just throw that all away?” I said “Good idea!” and she directed me to their industrial dumpster where they don’t put food waste.
Ok, we handled that pretty well… and now Samwich, in the best tradition of the “Boot and Rally Baby” (I need that t-shirt for him from Café Press, just haven’t gotten around to making it – been a bit busy!) that he is, was making his “I’m hungry, you bitches!” noise, and also doing the crazy wrist/hand thing that he does. Anh looked at me like ‘How about more soup?”, and I’m thinking “No frigging way!”. We gave him his bottle, which he has not barfed on in more than four days….
I finished eating – liked the Lamb Stew and Jambalaya the best – although eating the mac n cheese was just good clean fun, so I took the Samwich, and we were playing, and he was sitting on my lap, I was singing him songs (HE LOVES “Must Be Santa”). I felt him poop. At this point, we just know – if you poop, you are flirting with disaster if you don’t catch this RIGHT AWAY (and BTW, the movie “Flirting With Disaster” http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116324/ is just hilarious, and always fun to watch. If I ever see it while channel surfing, no matter what point I stop at watch! Indian Wrestling?).
I say to Anh – “Give me a diaper and the wipes – Samwich just pooped, and I’m changing this before this gets bad.” (HA HA HA HA). Note that I can still only smell about at a 50% rate – I still have more nose stuff to come out tomorrow – but more on that later. So I can’t smell it – I only felt his bumtacular move.
Anh had just changed him while I was getting food, and said to me as I was getting up “No problem, thanks, there’s a changing table in the women’s room.”. I said, “Great!”. I go into the women’s room (and this is a big one – 6 stalls plus – I’m still at this point a little women’s-room-phobic – realistically I’ve only transitioned for less than two weeks, and for a lot of those days, I went nowhere – or was unconscious)
I go to the drop-down table, pull it down, put him on it and start. Right away I notice – blowout. And it’s a good one – again – shoulder level. Yea! I get to touch rotavirus infested poop again! I take off his shoes and pants, and notice the pants are damp-ish. We planned ahead today – and brought one new outfit for him, so I wasn’t super scared about this. I take off his overshirt, then work on the diaper, gross-mess-ectomy, etc. Quite honestly at this point I’m thinking “Dude, I am the QUEEN of the Blowouts! Bring it!” (I need that t-shirt too). I get him clean enough to get a new diaper on (before I cleaned his back completely – note this tactic – it prevents previously documented “Additional Pee” catastrophies). I stand him up, and wipe off his back, and start redressing him. All through this process, I’m super calm, and singing songs to him. At one point, I say out loud, but to no one in particular (maybe the Samwich) “I’m going to have to blog about this tonight!” At that point, this older (mid 60’s) very proper looking European lady comes up to me and says (and I’m really not sure I heard her right) “Dear, why are you trying to hard to not look like a girl?”. Now, I had on nice jeans, that are clearly NOT men’s jeans (I’m lucky because I’m pretty thin for my height, so the 32 designer jeans fit me, as long as the legs aren’t too small around), flats (black), a white tank top, and a button up sweater. Over this, I have a Northface Fleece (black), which is men’s, but not big on me at all – and it’s not zipped up.. Also, post last Monday, I’m a solid C cup. Now, on the downside, my nose cast is still on, and because I’m not totally done with facial hair removal and of some bruising on and near my top lip, my skin being light, and my hair being dark, my mustache hairs are not non-obvious. Honestly, I’m confused by her comment. I say, as sweetly and genuinely as I can while dealing with Mr. Level 5 Biohazard, “But I am a girl. I’m not trying to hide anything.” She says “Ok”, and walks off. So, if you Ms. Proper European Lady are the one who saw me today, and want to tell me what you meant with a little more detail, I would really honestly like to know. I think I’m pretty good with people, but boy, I didn’t get it.
I pick up the mess of detritus from below, grab the little germ factory, and head back out. While this story written was not as long as last night’s, it still took me a good 15 minutes to do this.
I brought him back out, gave him to Anh, and took the ones-ie back the restroom to clean out. I cleaned it out (hot water – lots – plus soap – lots), cleaned out the sink (just to be sure – DON’T LICK SINKS IN THE FERRY BUILDING).
I went back to Mistral to ask for a plastic bag to put this wet but wrung out thing into. These are hard to come by in San Francisco, as effectively, they are banned (the grocery kind). These folks just rock. They gave me a kitchen garbage bag. I thanked them again for all their help, and went back to our table. We got up, cleaned up, and went in search of coffee and dessert. It was cold and very wet here today, and Anh was in the mood for a hot decaf latte (with one raw sugar – melted), so we started off. Just as we were looking we got a call from the woman we were meeting that she was there. So we met up with her, she, Anh and the Samwich sat down to have her eat a nice warm bowl of soup, and I went off in search of the dessert and coffee Anh had asked for.
I went to Peet’s first – right across the way, and as I was ordering the barista said to me “When I got my nose done [I missed the rest, until] and the boobs too! Those hurt!”. It was pretty loud in there. This was not the comment I wanted to say “Huh?” too. I got Anh’s coffee, brought it over to her, and went in search of said sugaryness.
The Miette French pastry shop had this nice Scharffen Berger half dome that Anh had her eye one, and I got one of those, and also an éclair (I’m a total sucker for a good éclair or cannoli). I’ve noticed that in a retail situation, if when people greet me, I give them a big smile, a friendly hello, and look ‘em in the eye and just go forward. Again this worked great!
I brought it all back, and we sampled it all (not bad – not the best), and then headed off to Nordstrom. (Yeah, I know – Seattleites going to SFO to go to Nordstrom (Note for non-Seattleites – Nordstrom is based in Seattle) – but the SFO store is in many ways larger and nicer than the one in Seattle) The woman who we had met had a meeting with a personal shopper (her official title is “Wardrobe Consultant’, but Nordstrom has a “Personal Shopping” department in which she works) who was known to be super-trans friendly, and she had previously ordered and got some great stuff from her. She set us up with a meeting with her too! Thanks!
We took the Muni over (love that public transit), as it was still pouring and we were a bit late, and went to Nordstrom to meet up with Kris Keuttel. Kris’ contact info is 415-243-8500 ext 1452, email firstname.lastname@example.org. “Megan”, you may be asking “What on earth are you doing giving out info like that?” Well, a number of things. One, Kris is an awesome lady. She made me feel like the most important, most beautiful person today. I still feel like a train wreck survivor, but hey! Two, she rocks at her job. It’s not easy to find great clothes that are refined, stylish, well fitting, and appropriate for trans-girls. (She works with everyone – men, women, whatever). She takes feedback, wants to know what you love, what you hate, what you need, what you need none of. If she doesn’t have it now, she will find it if it is possible to be found. I won’t even start on how hard it is to find great size 13 women’s shoes – it’s hard – and she found me four great pairs, and ordered another one! Also, she (and she worked GREAT with Anh (who is my own personal style consultant!), and doted on Samwich). She worked with us for nearly three hours (basically squeezing me in… while dealing with other clients with appointments – these folks work on appointments that are generally 30-60 minutes. She probably brought up nearly 100 pieces for me to try on. If something wasn’t right – she got the right one. If it was wrong, she brought it back. I ended up with slacks, shirts, a couple sweaters, a couple of nice blouses, and a jacket plus the aforementioned shoes. I did try on some dresses. I’m not ready. If I do get a dress anytime soon, it will be long sleeved (or at least half). I don’t think they look right on me, and I don’t feel good in them. This has zero to do with gender, and all about image, and who I am (which is a girl – duh!) When we were done, a bunch of the stuff needed to get altered – with broad shoulders and being thin, getting nice fitted dress shirts is hard, and almost always tailoring is required. I hadn’t known this before, as even with pretty high end men’s stuff (Pink, which I LOVE), that’s not really the case. While we were going through all this, I said to her that I was having a hard time with slacks, because I felt like I had no butt, and the pants made me look like I had a big saggy bottom. Not cute. We finish selecting the stuff we want to buy – and she says “I want to go get you the best seamstress we have to do the alterations – I’ll be right back!” Lickety-split, seamstress in room, and we are rolling. Kris was right – she rocked! Kris said to her – “Megan wants the butt of her pants to look like mine – nice and tight – with good butt cleavage!” Almost lost the nose splint on that one too. While the seamstress was working on my pants, she was saying that most designers are leaving a lot of extra fabric in the seat of women’s pants these days – they call it “Diaper Butt”. As a result, most of the dress pants they sell need some sort of bumular area alteration. Anyway, we were finishing up, and we were just going to eat there – it was nearly 6, and we all were a bit beat, and Anh headed upstairs to the Bistro at Nordstrom to get a table, and I said to her “Just order me something good!” Anh said bye, thanked everyone, and went up to start on dinner before we had a melty-Samwich. I have this work holiday dinner next Thursday that Anh and I are going to. My boss from most of the previous year (Debra – who I love!) invited me to her staff holiday dinner. Last year’s was my first, and I had just joined the team. Debra was the first Microsoft VP (who was my direct boss at that time) that I had told about being transgender and my plan for transitioning. She has been nothing but supportive from day 1, and this invitation is just another example of that. We’ve gotten closer, even since I left her team. So, I wanted to make sure I had something appropriate to wear. Honestly, I wanted to be comfortable but I also wanted the other people there to be comfortable as well. Me in a black strapless ball gown – not what I’m going for. I really wanted to wear this pair of black pants, plus one of the shoes that we picked out, with a really nice Loro Piana cashmere sweater we got at “The Mall” in Italy (http://www.intuscany.net/guides/the_mall.htm ) (its in Tuscany – that’s what its called – also a “not to be missed place if you are on that continent) One of the cool things about their Personal Shopping service is they ship for virtually nothing. If I remember right, two day is free. From being here for two weeks and bringing back a bunch of stuff already – we have no more space. I told Kris about the event on Thurs, and what I wanted to wear. She said “I will make this happen.” She worked with the seamstress, is getting it all done Monday (it would normally be done Thursday!) and will have it all shipped next-day air to our house so we an have it Tuesday even, but probably Wednesday, We finished up, and as we were chatting she said “You know, I’m just really starting to get used to working with trans-girls, and its been fun!” Getting started! If you call this getting started, then what on earth would be novice or even expert? Our entire experience today was simply world-class customer service. All of it. Every second. Look, I don’t say this lightly. I have been extremely fortunate to be in a profession that I love (and that I’m good at, and helped the companies I’ve worked for be successful), and have been very well compensated. I understand how fortunate (and unequal) it is. When I think about teachers (especially teachers), and how above and beyond many of them go to build the foundation of the very society of the future – and how many of them do it at wages that are sorely inadequate – well, I realize how lucky I am to have my passion, skill and market demand for said same to be aligned. (I’m sorry if this sounded self-aggrandizing – I don’t mean it to be – I just do my job, just like everyone else does. There are far more important jobs that mine…. To those folks – thank you – with heartfelt thanks)
In any case, we travel a lot. We experience a ton of customer service – all over the world I’m willing to pay for great service or products (especially food – especially food – there’s only so many calories you get to eat in you whole life – why make any one of them not be perfect?) I’ve been to incredibly expensive places (Hello, Capri?) were walking into the shops you are made to feel sub-human. Screw them. You aren’t seeing my money – ever.
Anyway, when you get customer service, that’s world class, and it’s FREE. It’s a gift. In fact, she saved us money. She knew what stuff was on sale, that was about to be moved to Nordstrom Rack (its an outlet for Nordstrom) but just hadn’t been picked up yet. One of the nice slacks – originally $500 – now $50. Wow.
So, Kris – you rock. Anyone who needs a Wardrobe Consultant in the Bay Area, or who is in the Bay Area should call or email her. She works Thursday, Friday and every-other Saturday.
You made my day… and made me feel beautiful.
Now, I can imagine that at least one person reading this is thinking “Yeah, right. She gets commission. She’s being nice to you so you will buy more.” You know what, that’s right! It’s called capitalism. It ROCKS! I love China. I love the street vendors in China. They work their butts off to learn English, and learn how to merchandise and sell to foreigners because these are private businesses. The more they sell, the more they make. Compare this to the “Government/Official/Tourist” stores and especially the restaurants. They are 10x more expensive, and THEY SUCK. Especially customer service. English? No way. Look I don’t think everyone worldwide should speak English, but I do think that sellers need to do what buyers want them to do. If your buyers with money to spend will spend more if you or your employees speak Tibetan – go for it! Microsoft doesn’t internationalize our products into hundreds (yes hundreds) of languages because we are nice (well, we *are* nice, but that’s a WHOLE different blog – please lets not turn this into a Microsoft commentary blog – I’m happy to write one of those next year, and there are a lot out there already) – we do it because it makes business sense. It’s what we need to do to sell our products to as many people as possible, and to businesses who work with those people.
Ok, sorry… that was a little soap-boxy.
So, after I left Kris with a big hug, and her plea to ask if I wanted anything – ever – I went up to join Anh and Samwich at the Bistro. The Crab Bisque had already come, and Anh was feeding Samwich (SLOWLY – if we feed him slowly – he may have a blowout, but will not barf. We are not TRYING to make the little dude barf.) Just as I sat down, the rest of our food came (fried calamari, grilled chicken with fries, a salad with blue cheese, raisins, pears and field greens). I ordered us a couple of beers (YUM! Fat Tire on tap), and we started eating.
Anh fed Samwich (SLOWLY), and I fed Anh. We do this a lot. We decompressed, and it was just nice. We can’t wait to get home tomorrow.
When we were mostly done, Anh noticed that Samwich had pooped. She said “I’ll do this one. You relax.” I asked her if she wanted “The Bag” (the garbage bag that had all of Samwich’s clothes that he had somehow soiled today). Initially she said “No, its ok”. Then, the lifted him out of his high chair, and noticed that one leg, right below the butt cheek was soaked. She said “Maybe I should take it. Good think they have a children’s department here!” We were out of clothes.
She left, and I sat there, eating slowly, drinking (no savoring) my beer. I was sad that I realized that I can’t eat French Fries (at least the nice crispy) kind yet (my jaw can’t take it yet) or Tabasco (my nose can’t take it yet), but what I had just tasted great.
As background music, they were playing classic but nice elevator/department store music, and the restaurant was pretty quiet. It was probably 720pm or so… kind of late for a department store bistro to be super busy.
This slow jazzy version of “Have Your Self a Merry Little Christmas” came on, and I had a little moment. I love Christmas. Yes, I know, I’m an atheist, and it’s celebrating the Baby Jesus birthday. I still love it. I love the trees inside. I love the decorations. I love seeing family – some of whom you only see once a year. I love seeing older relatives who you may never see again. I love the fact that people I think when they aren’t at the mall are just nicer. I love getting people little thoughtful things that just make them smile. (I’m sorry, I’m actually crying as I write this….) And you know, this Christmas I got the best gift of all. I got to be me. How awesome is that?
I always think of that song and “White Christmas” as mournful. Mourning for the perfect day that we dream of but doesn’t come. There’s nothing sadder than that….. But, I love those songs.
This line from “Merry Little Christmas” saves it (this is from memory, as Internet lyrics are just horrible – if I mangled this, I’m sorry)
Through the years, we’ll always be together
If the fates allow
Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now
Anh came back, I told her about my moment, which was hard because I know it’s hard for her when I’m weepy. I’m glad she’s not awake now! It was totally fine, and we finished up, she said Samwich’s pants were saveable, and we left. We forgot her super cool Kangol hat, so I went back to get it (we didn’t get too far), and before I even got back to our table I heard “Sir!” from the busboy (yes, I got Sir’ed again… whatever. Words don’t define me.), and the waitress had the hat outstretched for me to take (with both hands no less). Again – world class – all the way. Thanks Nordstrom and all your employees – you rock.
We took muni back, got back just in time to watch Survivor (well, I’ve been writing this now for a lot/most of that time), and then the older kids called (I had talked to their mom earlier – she’s been great too! – and asked her to have them call me tonight when she got home – I wanted to talk to them – just to say hi, and also to talk about Saturday when I’m going to see them for the first time when we get back.
You may think that I should just be calling them every day – I talked to them way more last week early – but they came up Friday-Sunday, and I just could not talk on the phone until late yesterday. I wanted them to hear me sounding like the me they know (no, I’m not doing anything to change my voice) I didn’t want to scare them by sounding bad because I know that they love me, and don’t want to see me sick. I thought it would be worse to call, sounding just horrible (which I did).
Anyway, we had a great talk – both Peri and John (Anh talked to them too), and we are super excited to see them Saturday. We all love you Peri and John (me, Anh and your brother Samwich!).
Anh’s bro James came over to hang, which was very nice. He’s an exceptionally nice person who I’ve just enjoyed getting to know.
But, literally, I’ve been working on this post for more than four hours. I know its long.
Tomorrow at 9 we go for he last time to Dr. O’s office to get all my stuff removed, (Staples, some remaining sutures, nose cast, and remaining interior nose stuff). I get to see what I look like.
Anh asked me earlier how I felt about the facial surgery, at this point, it’s hard to say. I’m very glad it did it – but the results need to be see. Mira is super confident it will come out great, and I am too – but: I need to get my hair done differently to cover the scar – we’ll do that in a couple of weeks. I love my forehead and lack of brow ridge. My upper lip still looks like crap, but that will heal (and the hair will be vanquished!). My jaw feels good – but is swollen a lot still – along with my chin. My adam’s apple is just gone – and doesn’t hurt at all, and my voice wasn’t impacted at all. I REALLY want to see my nose… I think it’s all going to be great – but it would be dishonest to say its great today. I still see me in the mirror – I thought I might not even recognize that person. Anh and others say that I already look a lot different – they are probably right – I just don’t see it.
Tomorrow I promise to post pictures as soon as the nose cast comes off… I think we all are curious.
Anyway, one other short topic. When I started this blog, like I’ve said before, I was going to be like Jack Friday –“Just the facts, Ma’am”. It didn’t turn out that way. Count the number of times I admit crying….
I initially sent this link to about 20 people, and was getting about 60-100 page views a day.
Then Owen from Valleywag posted, and it turned into about 3k views a day for a couple days. That was scary.
It calmed down to about 600 a day, but its growing again. (All these numbers do not count RSS subscribers – I have no idea how many people are subscribed.)
Over the last two days, I’ve seen more than 1k, then 1.3k views. Today it was more like 1.5k, and I posted virtually nothing new.
I have no idea how this now 10 page post (in Word) is going to go over. So, please, if you like it, tell me. Want more of something, tell me. Less of something, tell me.
I can’t promise that I can do it all, but my goal is to tell my story, and maybe show how someone going through this can start happy, stay happy, then be happy and whole. Please know, I am not trying to speak for anyone but me. Other people have different stories and different ideas about this whole trans thing, and thats wonderful. If you want to know – I know a lot of girls who would love to talk if asked.
If you want to speak Tibetian, I will try to learn with you.
With love and warmth – Megan