Jealousy and Insecurity. Grudges and Misinformation.

You know, I wasn't going to say anything, but this is getting ridiculous. No sooner do I get rid of one of one toxic person (my ex-girlfriend, turned friend, turned frienemy, I suppose), but now the other one is rearing it's head again. Now they're writing actual blogs about how "abusive" and "violent" I am.

I know I'm not a horrible person. I know that me and my girlfriend's relationship is not up for judging. I'm really not interested in these people's opinions, but now it's up on Blogger and Facebook, and who knows where else? Any mutual friends are bound to come across this misinformation, and perhaps buy into it. These posts are exaggerated, with facts changed, removed, or completely fabricated. What I've written in my blog the last few months is the truth. The absolute, honest truth. I wouldn't write anything here if it wasn't true. It's just not worth spreading lies all over.

I feel like I'm dealing with a bunch of kindergartners. Are they jealous? Insecure? Just plain old psychotic? Do they envy my life so much that they have to try to tear it apart?

My ex is still going on about things that happened during our relationship. This was 14 - 17 years ago. I can barely remember half the things she talks about. She's writing about me asking if I could use a coupon of hers to buy lipstick. It upset her so much in 1994 (yes, 1994!) that she writes about it now. Yes, I was in the role of her boyfriend at the time, and yes, having someone in that role be interested in lipstick can be confusing and upsetting, but hello... 17 years. Should I expect some sort of communique in the year 2050? "How dare you ask for the lipstick coupon?" By then, I'll be lucky to know my own name, much less what lipstick is, or what a coupon is.

No, I don't owe anybody anything. Sure, I am thankful for what people have done in the past for me, but I define me. I could've made it on my own, with a tiny room and all my stuff crammed into it. I'd still be me. I don't owe my life in my current gender to anyone. It was, and still is, my journey.

No, I didn't stomp off and leave my fiancee and four-year-old daughter in a bad neighborhood. Rather, my fiancee stopped following me (in a quiet neighborhood community) and decided to walk back to the car. She was the one having the "fit" at the time, and I'd forgotten all about the incident until this "friend" wrote about it the other day. We walked for a few more minutes, did what we were there to do (geocaching), and then walked back to the car. Nobody knew that Nikki wouldn't be able to find the car. I stayed by the car with Savannah, in case she came back, while my friend (who was there for all this and now writes it differently) drove off to look for her. My friend was with us, and did not go with Nikki when she turned around and walked the other way. But I am filth for not running after her. Riiiighhht...

I never told Nikki to take off work so I could go to court. The engagement ring that Nikki bought me was not even close to $2,000 like my ex claimed. Not even close to half that. We don't have that kind of money. I do not "guilt" people into doing things. I don't push buttons. Why not think that perhaps I was feeling real emotions, and not acting out fake ones? If I'm upset, I act it. I have a hard time hiding that. If I'm fine, I don't "act upset." I'm not a good actor. So if there's an upsetting conversation in a public place, I might get up and walk a few feet away to compose myself. Nobody was "abused" by my getting up and walking a few feet away.

I have not written a violent or abusive letter to my former friend, nor have I written anything like that in my blog. I mean, really, that's here for everyone to see. Yes, I am Wiccan, and yes, it is a peaceful religion. I'm a peaceful person. I'm not doing anything to harm anybody. All I'm doing is speaking the true facts on my blog, and my feelings about them. What I feel is frustration, anger, resentment, and sadness. It's okay for Wiccans to feel this. It's okay for Wiccans to express this. There is no slander involved, because everything I wrote (and continue to write) here is true. So puh-leese keep my religion out of this. Thank you.

I am in no way "innocent" or "perfect." I'll never say that I am such things. I would never want to be perfect, and only children and animals should ever be thought of as innocent.

My ex keeps trying to say I'm a bad parent because I can't afford to hire a lawyer and travel to North Carolina to appear in court. (My daughter's mother won't let me have visitation, though she was court-ordered to do so many years back.) I'm unemployed. How am I supposed to come up with that kind of money? I miss her so much. Maybe the bad parent is the one that won't let me speak to my daughter on the phone.

She also says that I think with my yet-to-be-corrected sex organ. How dense. She urges me to get GRS so that I can act more like a woman. First of all, it's an insult to say that I think or act anything like a man. Secondly, one does not "think" with their private parts. The general public won't see any difference in my behavior from pre-op to post-op. What most everybody sees is me. How many people get to see what kind of sex organ you have? Other than a lover or a doctor, usually none. What she said is at the height of closed-mindedness.

If they really believe some of these things, then reality and their recollection of things (such as it is) are at odds with each other. It's like reading The Enquirer. The facts presented have very little basis on reality. You both would like to think that what you're saying is having an effect on me, but I can see right through you.

Two grudges. One is about things that happened 14 - 17 years ago. Another is someone talking about things that happened months ago, and that Nikki and I have already worked out. Why is it that Nikki and I are over this crap, and this person holds a grudge about it? It didn't happen to her and it's not her relationship. Hello? Bueller?

Like I said, I am a peaceful person, and a loving one. However, some I just can't find love for, due to their actions. That said, I wish them no ill will, and I hope they find true happiness in life. Then perhaps they'll stop worrying so much about my life, and go about living their own.

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Origins Revisited (Blast From the Past Entry)

I wrote this back in April of 2003 (wow it's been seven years). What I did was take a few of my looseleaf-written entries and type them up in Word. I completely forgot that I did this until a couple months ago, when I found the document on the hard drive of our older computer (we have two running, and the older one... well, it has trouble bringing up Google at times). I wrote the following as an intro to my "computerized diary." It contains some different info than in my intro on this blog, my first ever blog post. Keep in mind that when I wrote this, it had only been a couple months since I'd realized my transsexuality. The way I put things is not really the way I'd write about it today.

I've included a bunch of pictures of me from 1997. These are the first pictures of Amy as you all know me, and they've never before been put on the net! The quality is not really there, but hey, it was `97.

Oh yes, my name is not really "Amethyst." I decided not to go with that name, as it was a bit outlandish and porn star-sounding. It is my favorite gem though. So here we go...


This introduction is just to bring everyone up to date on my life, particularly my "adventures into femininity." The only question I have now is, where do I start? When did the first manifestation of this feminine side take place?

One could say that maybe it was around the age of eight years old. My parents were repainting our rooms, and they asked what color we would want. My brother picked blue for his room, and I picked purple. (And I got my desire, but this wouldn't go much further, as you will soon see.) Or... if that was not it, then it was definitely somewhere between ten and twelve years old, when I found some little girls' clothes in bags in the guest room closet. They were meant for my sister when she got older, handed down by a neighbor. I was pretty skinny for my age, but of course I could barely fit into these things, as they were for a five or six-year-old. I ended up ripping some of them by just trying to put them on or take them off. Now I was scared at what I had done (plus not understanding why I had tried them on in the first place, not realizing why I liked putting on all the little dresses and skirts). Not knowing what to do at this point, I put all the ripped clothes back, and I acted shocked when asked if I knew anything about it. My mother seemed to think that it could've only been a certain neighborhood kid that would do this, who used to visit me or my brother. That is, until she found a button off of one of the outfits under my bed. That darn button started all the trouble by falling off and rolling under there while I tried on the clothes. I was found out, and when asked why I had damaged the clothes (putting them on was not yet the question yet), I lied and actually made myself look like some kind of psycho kid, by saying that I had ripped the clothes out of pent-up frustration from school.

Nothing much else happened until some time in high school. At this point, my mother's things started to fit me, and I started trying on her dresses, nightgowns, pantyhose, etc...and what happened next? I was either stupid, or subconsciously wanted to be discovered and understood for liking this so much. This was not to be the case. I was discovered by my mother, laying in my bed asleep, wearing one of her nightgowns and a pair of pantyhose. I had snuck them out of my mother's room and fell into such a blissful, happy sleep while wearing them. So, my mother was very upset, stammering with anger, and asking all sorts of questions, like, "Do you want to be a woman?" "Do you want our family to find out about this?" Of course, both of my answers were no, although I was too young at that point to realize that the answer to the first question would become a "yes" in the future. The conversation, such as it was, ended with an order to stop doing this so that I wouldn't bring shame onto the family.

But I have yet to hear of anyone crossdressing and just stopping. For me, it would go away for awhile and then come back. When I was 17, I had my first real girlfriend, Sandy. Somehow I managed to tell her about my love of women's clothes and makeup. She thought it was cool, but I don't think I ever let her see me with them on, I was way too shy. But she gave me some of her clothes, and even some makeup. Maybe my mother figured out that these were Sandy's clothes, because when going up to my room with Sandy (my father used to drive me to the train station to pick her up), we saw the clothes piled on my bed. Just her way of saying, "I know about this." But just imagine, if Sandy had not known, she would've found out about my crossdressing in this manner...!

Soon after that little situation, I had gotten a job and was able to buy things for myself. Alas, it was to be a waste of money, as I would buy things, hide them, my mother would throw them out, I would buy more things and find a new hiding place (always in my room), they would be found and thrown out, rinse and repeat. I even stuffed a bunch of clothes into an unused amplifier for my neglected guitar. Anyway, after about ten months, Sandy and I broke it off. We both just started liking other people, is all.

Enter college days. Somewhere after high school, I started wearing the spandex pants and shorts that were so popular during the `80's. I would wear women's or men's, I liked them all. It was probably because they hugged my legs like pantyhose would, that I liked them so much. I have always loved tight-fitting clothes regardless. My next girlfriend was Millie, and she seemed to almost have a love/hate thing going as far as my crossdressing went. Well, she was very hot and cold with me in general also. She thought something was psychologically wrong with me for doing it, yet she was also very interested in it, and she used to go to the library to read about it. Yet I suppose because she just wanted to make me happy, she gave me one of her wigs and a few makeup items (her clothes were way too big for me). She was a hairdresser, and always wore lots of makeup. I always wanted her to make my hair up in some pretty style (it had a little length to it at this time), or to put makeup on me, but she never went for it. Anyway, she really got angry when I confessed to her that I had gone out in public wearing women's clothes, for the first time. I wore the wig that she gave me (which was kind of poofy and out of control), some makeup (I tried to use powder to cover the shadow on my face, but it didn't really work), and one of my sister's dresses, black pantyhose and high heels (she was in her mid-teens at this point, and they fit me almost perfectly). I actually went down to the college which I was attending at the time, and sat in the lobby of the Student Center. It was very exciting, yet as a few students started to stare and point in my direction, I figured that it would be best if I left. I drove around for awhile, then went home, only to panic at seeing that my brother had come home in my absence! Here I am, wearing a wig, girl's clothes and makeup, stuck outside. I had no regular clothes to change into, and he could be home all day... and then my father would come home. So I had to go inside and sneak upstairs looking all pretty. That was at least 10 years ago and my heart is pounding in my chest right now just thinking about it! Well, I was lucky enough to get up into my room unseen. I didn't go out again for quite awhile. And oh yes, Millie wanted her wig back after that.

Awhile later, Millie "disappeared" on me. She just never seemed to be home and didn't return my calls. Whenever I came by the house, I was told she wasn't home, or I was just told to leave. I found out later that she had told her parents about my crossdressing, and they had ordered her not to see me again. Very soon after that, I met Vanessa. I told her pretty quickly about my crossdressing, and at first she seemed to be okay with it. At my request, she fixed my hair and put makeup on me, and we even made love that way. This was pretty unbelievable for me, like a dream come true, but I found out that at the time it had made her really upset. She has an attraction to both men and women, so she said it confused her. So while she accepted me dressing in women's clothes, she no longer wanted me to do it around her, or to go out in public like that as well. I did shave my legs once, during the winter when they would be covered up by pants, but she didn't like that very much.

Sometime during our relationship, I got a P.O. Box and ordered some things from Frederick's of Hollywood, most notably a new wig. A nice one this time, although it was a shade or two too light for me. I took some pictures of myself in the house and out in the backyard when nobody was home. The backyard scenes are the nicest, I still love them. That natural light just gave off such a soft look. [These are the pictures featured in this blog entry.] Also, I had decided to keep my clothes in a public storage locker, since my mother kept throwing them out. I had them in there for several months, and one day, upon going to retrieve some things from there, I found the locker broken into. The lock was broken right off of the door, and all of the clothes were gone! Who would steal a bunch of women's clothing? To this day, I wonder if my mother was behind it. I went down to the police department with Vanessa to file a report, but of course they weren't going to open a case on a few hundred dollars worth of clothes.

Next up came my "dirtbag attack," as I sometimes call it. I was feeling trapped in my relationship with Vanessa. I wanted to grow my hair long, wear my tight, skimpy clothes (men's clothing, but skimpy athletic wear mostly), get my ears pierced, etc... and all of these things she greatly disapproved of. She ended up having to go into a mental hospital for a month, and during that time, I met another patient there, by the name of Christina. I got a big crush on her, and ended up leaving Vanessa for Christina. Christina was 17 (almost 18) at the time, and learning disabled. So yes, I made a pretty messed-up decision. But my just desserts come later.

When I told Christina of my crossdressing, she was very upset, and she ended up telling her sister, Donna. I was very uncomfortable about this, but Donna said it was normal and all that. Somewhere along the line, she became very hurtful to Christina (Donna had mental problems also), and I had to pick up Christina from a sleepover at her house. She basically kicked Christina out when I got there. We ended up having to call the police, because she wouldn't let us get Christina's medicine and other items from her house. She then followed me to my car, even with the policeman there, screaming that I wore girl's dresses like a sissy boy, and I was a fag, etc... all at 9:00 in the morning! So all the neighbors came out, and a good time was had by all... except the two of us.

Sometime after this, I shaved my legs again, and also my stomach and chest. I loved the smooth, silky feeling. But Christina didn't like it too much, so I didn't repeat the torso shaving again, although I did shave my legs a few more times.

Anyway, it eventually turned out that Christina was more receptive me to me getting dressed up, and somewhere around this time, I came up with the name of Jessica. Whether she really didn't mind, or was just trying to please me, I'm still not sure. The end result of either was that she agreed to come out with me when I was dressed. We went out four times. I'll briefly sum it up. We went to Burger King, and some guy thought I was a gg. He said to his friend that I was hot (Christina heard it). We went to Sears and tried on dresses together in the women's fitting room. We went to the mall, and I actually fixed my makeup right in the busy women's bathroom! We went to Taco Bell, and the man behind the counter called us "ladies." We went to the library. We went to a park, and she took lots of photos of me. I had little or no trouble with anyone until what was to be our last outing. I was in Macy's, trying on some clothes in the women's fitting room. Upon exiting the fitting room, I was greeted by security. "You can't use the women's dressing room, you must go in the men's room." Embarassed as hell, I left the store and entered the mall. Some black guy in the mall yelled out, "That's a man!" I tried to ignore all this and still have a good time, but then when walking into JC Penny's, I passed by Vanessa's brother, Greg! He did look at me, but I wasn't sure if he recognized me at all. After all this, I decided this was enough, and I ended the day as it was. (I later found out that he did recognize me, and he was upset about it.) In short, this day ruined the desire to dress up for me. Eventually, I wanted to do it again, but Christina didn't want to join me anymore, and she didn't want me going out alone either. So that was that.

Christina got pregnant over the summer of 2000, and we got married in January, 2001. Our daughter, Brittany, was born in March, and we moved into a condominium in April. I was free to dress however I wanted in the privacy of our home, but going out was still a no-no. I tried to get all that I could out of it though. I was able to go out wearing lip gloss, girl's denim "short shorts" in the summer, and black stretchy bell-bottoms in the winter. I had my night job, and Christina got a day job at a child care facility. I almost forgot to mention that in Christina, I had found someone whose clothes fit me. In fact, she gained a lot of weight during her pregancy, so her old clothes were now too small for her. So I "inherited" a bunch of nice things. So that was a big plus. But then for some reason, Christina turned into a psycho. Not coming home from work and not calling, spending no time with me at all, always out somewhere, screaming her head off at me for no reason at all... Then she wanted me to stay at my parent's house for a week. I refused, scared that I wouldn't be welcomed back to my new home again. But a week or two later, after her screaming at me and insulting me in front of my friends, and me subsequently smashing my hand through a glass panel lamp, I ended up going back to my parent's house after all. And there I stayed.

But a good thing came out of all this. Not only did I come to be in a much more stable environment (though I missed my daughter very much), but I was also free to explore my feminine side. Mind you, I have to be careful to not let my parents or siblings find out, but now I have the car to myself, and the freedom to go where I want, and when I want. Once I got my computer back online, I did some searching on the internet, looking for some salons in the city that would do a makeover on me. What did I find, but a place on Long Island, just 40 minutes away! (http://www.femmefever.com/)

The rest is history. I decided to change my "femme name" to Amethyst, Amy for short. I did this not only to signify a new beginning, but also just in case my "soon-to-be-ex-wife" decides to search the internet for my old name, since she knows the full name that I used. And that brings me up to my first entry. It was a long journey, but I feel that it's only just beginning.

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Flying Without a Net

Nikki will probably be getting a second job soon. She's already applied, and her prospective employer is calling her references. She's doing this because her main job (working as a substitute teacher) is basically a part-time one, since she has to opt out of so many days, due to having to take the kids to the dentist, doctor, what-have-you, plus there's my appointments every once in awhile, as well as hers. I wish I could get a job, but being transgendered doesn't help, I believe. Nikki also wants to take college courses at night to get her certification in special education. She'd not be working the night job at this time. However...

The one aspect of this that fills me with dread at times is this: I'd be watching the kids solo. Several nights a week. Without a net.

I love them all dearly, but I've only known them for three years. Each one is a handful, in their own special little way (ha ha!).

The oldest one, Sarah, is especially hard to deal with when she has one of her episodes. She's on three different psych meds and she suffers from anxiety and occasional depression. She gets into these temper tantrums where she throws things around, tries to leave the house, and screams the same sentence over and over for at least a half hour straight. It drives me nuts. The last few times I've exploded and said some mean things to her out of anger and frustration. I didn't help the situation.

My anxiety over this might seem ridiculous to some of you, but I don't have that much experience raising kids. Brittany (my biological daughter) only lived with me for the first 18 months of her life, and then I had her for a day and a half every other weekend. My parents were very distant during my childhood. I remember in my teens and twenties telling my mom I loved her, on three or four occasions . It was a struggle for me, and she did reciprocate, but I always had to say it first.

I always look to Nikki for help and backup. But soon she won't be there. I told her a couple nights ago that I couldn't do it. She said she would have to go back to New York, to her abusive ex-husband while she finishes up her schooling. The kids would have to suffer for nine months until she finishes school and can get a full time job and move out. There just aren't any teaching positions for standard education. Michigan has a hold on hiring. They're always looking for special ed teachers though, in many states, if not all.

I had told her I couldn't do it. But we went to therapy together and talked it out. I've decided to try. Who knows, maybe I'll fail. If I do, I'll at least have tried. I would regret it forever if I didn't try, and Nikki and I split up, and the kids and I lost each other.

I may suffer from anxiety. I may experience some depression. I'll have no medication to treat this, and only sessions with Nikki and her therapist to help (it will help, though). I have to do my best, and that's all that anybody should expect of me. Who knows, I may succeed with flying colors. Maybe I'll become a better parent than ever before, now that I don't have Nikki to steal the spotlight, so to speak. We'll see.

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Brittany, My Biological Daughter

Brittany is my one and only biological daughter, and at the time of this post, I have not spoken to her for a year. I miss her so very much. I'll remind all of you that I am indeed Brittany's father, and I was unaware of the fact that I'm a transsexual until early 2003.

Brittany was born on March 12th, 2001. I often called her "Britty-Baby." Her mother and I were both living at my parents' house at the time of her conception. We got married in January of 2001, and we bought a condominium a month later, using settlement money from a recent car accident.

I still remember when she was born. She wailed and wailed until they let me hold her. At that point, she stopped crying and looked up at me with her beautiful eyes. Then I started crying! It remains the most profound and touching moment of my life.

Bursting out of the closet (one of her favorite games then) in 2003. She was two years old.

Some time after Brittany was born, her mother got a job. She worked during the day, and I worked the graveyard shift. I would sleep while Brittany took her nap, and then for a few more hours when her mother came home. Brittany was a very mild baby, and she was a good sleeper from the start.

When Brittany was a year old, her mother started going out and partying, instead of coming home to let me rest before work. Sometimes she would come home so late, that I would be late for work. Never mind that I was already doing all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, etc. We were fighting all the time. In July of 2003, she wanted me to stay at my parents' house for a week. I knew it would end up being for good, so I fought it, but eventually gave in, since I couldn't handle the stress anymore. She did indeed tell me not to come back, and I moved out my things while she was at work. She changed the locks after a few days.

Three years old, 2004.

I had visitation with Brittany every weekend, and she would stay overnight with me at my parents' house. Child support was also set up. In 2004, we found out that Brittany's mother hadn't been paying the maintenance charges for the condo, for almost a year! She was in danger of foreclosure. My father had co-signed on the place, so he was liable as well. I allowed Brittany's mom to move both of them down to North Carolina, as long as she brought Brittany up every other month for visitation. She had told me at the time that she was getting a place with her sister, but when I went down there, she said her sister had moved back to upstate New York. Instead, there was this man there by the name of Michael, who was her boyfriend.

One of my trips to North Carolina is detailed in two blog posts: here and here.

Four years old, 2005.

The arrangement with visitation lasted for about two years, upon which she said she couldn't travel because the doctor told her she had to be on bedrest during her latest pregnancy. Then after the baby was born, she couldn't take the baby with them, etc., etc. The last time I saw Brittany was in April of 2007. In January of that year, I went down there with Nikki and Skylar. Brittany's mother had a real bitch fit (actually, a jealous fit) over the fact that I brought Nikki. She and her fiancee (yes, she tried to rub it in my face that they were engaged now, but I couldn't have cared less) both noticed my chest and some other more subtle cues. She forbade me to bring Nikki again, but of course, it was my decision, not hers. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to travel down there again, due to all the problems Nikki and I were facing at the time (see this entry, one of many). Brittany got to meet Sarah and Savannah in April of 2007, when we were staying at a motel. I forget the circumstance, but it was a rare moment that Brittany got to come back up to New York for a couple days. There was some confusion, since Brittany was calling me "Daddy," while the other two only knew me as "Mama." It was interesting, to say the least! They took to each other right away, though. At one point, Brittany was throwing a fit and wouldn't leave the McDonald's play area when it was time to go. Sarah coaxed her out, saying, "I can't leave without my sister!"

Summer of 2006, five years old.

When I moved to Michigan with Nikki and the kids, her mother really freaked out, and wouldn't let me talk to Brittany on the phone again. She had been hoping for years that I would move, thus releasing her from the court order stating that she was to bring Brittany to me for visitation. This was another jealous fit, and she blamed it on the fact that I wasn't working. She said I wouldn't get to talk to Brittany on the phone, much less visit her, until I had a job and she was getting child support again. She said that since she wasn't getting child support, I no longer had the right to talk to Brittany. I doubt this is true, but then again, I've heard varying opinions on this.

Another from Summer, 2006.

She kept saying the nastiest things about me, and also about Nikki, and asking me very disrespectful questions (for example, asking me if Nikki pretends to be a man to further my "fantasy"), until I would have to hang up on her. I never told her mother that I'm a transsexual, mind you, because I feared her denying my visitation. As it is, my rights are still intact. I yearn to work again, not just to be a member of society once more, but to hire a legal aide in North Carolina to get me reconnected with my daughter. We just have no money to spare right now, unfortunately.

Christmas, 2006.

By all rights, Nikki and I should have Brittany. Her mother is emotionally and mentally handicapped. She can drive a car, but she has the maturity of a twelve-year-old. I heard her arguing on the phone with Brittany once, telling her daughter that a "mayflower" was a kind of flower, not a boat. I had to correct her. Why did I get involved with this woman, you ask? I wanted to take care of her, as she was a victim of multiple abusers, and things just kept on going. I was all she had, and I couldn't abandon her. Once she got pregnant, I felt obliged to marry her. Anyway, that seems like a lifetime ago. All in all, she is not a good mother. Her kids just walk all over her, and she seems just as immature as they are.

A school picture from Spring, 2007. Brittany is six years old here.

I can tell you who Brittany was at six years old, so this will be in past tense. She was stubborn, yet loving.  Somewhat out of control, because little boundaries had been set for her. She had seizures, in which she stared off into space, and occassionally urinated in her pants. She suffered migraines afterwards. She's been on multiple medications for this, and last I heard, the seizures were under control.

She loved Dora, and Dora toys were mostly what she wanted for Christmas. She was bored by anything else that was "cartoony." She did well with her work in school, yet had trouble paying attention in class. She loved salads and those little Starbucks drinks you can buy at the supermarket. She was very sensitive, and often went into "sulking periods," where she would sit with her back to you and wouldn't budge. This was an attention-seeking tactic though, because she would make sure you were reacting in some way (which I often went out of my way not to).

Fall of 2008. Seven years old.

She loved drawing and showing me her latest pictures. She enjoyed dancing and jumping around. If there was something she found funny, or fun, she would do it over and over again.

I miss my Brittany. I know I'll see her again, sooner or later. I just hope it won't be for too much longer.

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Pushing the Envelope (Blast From the Past Entry)

Wow, I remember this time. This was right before I first had acrylic nails. Oh my goodness, I fell in love! Ha ha! Seriously though, for folks like me, there comes a time when dysphoria gets to be too strong, and one really doesn't want to fight it anymore. I've been reading about a few others that are going through a time similar to this (Hi, Lisa!). I was fortunate in that my environment was a relatively friendly one in which to slowly break down those barriers.

I didn't come out at my workplace until April. They basically wondered what was up with me for three months, maybe more.

(The first picture is of Savannah and I, from Spring, 2007. The picture of the leather coat below looks very much like my coat. The rest of the pics are just for fun.)

Friday, January 12, 2007

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Current mood: mischievous

It's been four years. Four long years since I realized, "Hey, I'm a transsexual, and I can do something about this. I can actually live my life the way I want to." I've been patient. I started therapy in spring of 2003, and I started hormones in July of 2003. I was at a dead-end job, and I realized that the only way I could stand on my own two feet and do this, was to get into a better career. So I went to school for 10 months. 5 hours a day with a one-hour commute, and I continued working full-time on the graveyard shift. All so I could be free to look and act the way I feel inside. I wouldn't have been so determined if it wasn't for that.

Now I've been waiting for this divorce to come through. I want everything to be finalized before I do this, since Brittany's mom will probably try to take her away from me. Earlier this week, I found out that she finally signed, notarized, and mailed the papers. Her lawyer has them. Yay! Now all they have to do is send them to me to get signed and notarized. I send them back, and they forward them on to the court so they can do their thing.

In the meantime, I've really been pushing it. I've been patient for so long, but the walls of my little cage are starting to crack. I know what my life could be like once I make the change, and I want it now! I've been leaving my hair down. I usually brush it back behind my ears, but I've been just letting it fall lately. Okay, more than "letting it fall." I've actually been styling it that way. I know that may not seem like a big deal, but people have noticed. Hair makes a big difference in so many ways.

Last week, I couldn't find my winter coat after the move, so I wore my women's leather coat to work. I've had that for a year and I've never worn it to work.

I've been braver with the lipgloss. I've always worn it, but now I'm wearing more noticeable shades and just putting more on. I've been wearing my women's sneakers on "casual Friday" and I've been wearing tighter shirts that really don't hide the chest area well at all (hehe!).

Just before, Pam (one of my co-workers) wanted to know if she could ask me a personal question. She asked me if I was wearing lipstick. I told her it was gloss. Ha ha! I must have been beet red!

My nails have been peeling. They weren't that bad, but I noticed yesterday that my thumbnail had peeled all the way down into the part of the nail that's on my finger. I bumped it into something later on, and it almost cracked off! I had been planning on getting my nails done at a salon. That's something I've never done before. Nikki and I almost both got our nails done, but we didn't make it in time. On Sunday, we're going back, and I'm going to get short acrylic nails to protect my real nails. I'm going to start taking calcium pills too. The real fun part is... I'm wearing the nails to work, of course!

I am here, but not fully realized. I am alive, and I am me, but I am in silhouette. Soon, a picture will form in the silhouette. People will actually be able to see me, as I am. On my face will be a smile. The smile of self-realization. The smile of satisfaction. A smile that comes from a simple thing that so many take for granted (and why wouldn't they?): The comfort and pleasure of being able to express myself as the gender that I really am.

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Another Journey to North Carolina (Blast From the Past Entry)

For whatever reason, I didn't document my trip to to North Carolina this time around. Perhaps it was rather uneventful. It's now three years later to the date (!!!), and I can't remember anything about this trip. When I mention that "a lot has happened recently," that was all about Tee and I breaking up. It was all for the better though, since Nikki and I started our whirlwind romance less than a month later. I can't wait to get to those entries!



Friday, October 13, 2006
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Current mood: contemplative

I'm heading down to North Carolina today after work, in a few minutes actually. It's been three months since I've been there. I would usually go every two months, but due to all the unexpected expenses that happened over the last two months, I was unable to go. I'm actually looking forward to the drive. It'll give me time to sort out my thoughts and feelings. I got this car charger for my iPod Nano that doubles as a amplifier to hook it up to the cassette deck in my car. Unfortunately, I had to buy the "fake cassette" thing separately. But I tried it last night, and it works perfectly. Instead of bringing a big garbage bag full of CD's, I have it all on this tiny Ipod. I can definitely fit more than 18 hours of music on it, which is how much time the round-trip journey will take me. I will probably be spending some time in silence though. A lot has happened recently, and I really have to sort some things out.

Of course, I'm looking forward to seeing my daughter even more! She's my little munchkin! I yearn for those childhood days, when everything was so simple. I had my parents, food and drink for when I was hungry or thirsty, a bed for when I was tired, and countless toys and games. But as you grow up, you acquire different needs and wants. These are not often fulfilled to satisfaction. But am I going to whine and complain and feel bad for myself? No.

I had a scary thing happen to me when I looked at my check this morning. I was missing about $100 from my check! There were regular hours and overtime hours missing! They had mad a mistake with the payroll, can you believe that? I tried to see if my employer could possibly deposit the missing money into my account, but no... they could only send me a check. When of course, I won't be home. And if they sent it to the hotel, who knows if it would get there before I check out (which will be by 10 AM on Monday)? But luckily, I managed to borrow the money from a friend, which I will of course return once I get that check. Whew!

I am worried about my car. It's been overheating, and apparently the tear or rip in the hose to the radiator is getting bigger. I fill the radiator with water every day now, and I can always fit 6 ounces or more into that thing. I don't drive a lot during the week, so I'm going to have to fill it with water every 3 hours, at least. Next week, I'll take it to be serviced, but right now I don't have the time or money. I'll take my risks and make the trip, so that I don't disappoint my daughter again.

I'll be offline until Tuesday morning, so I'll talk to you guys next week. I hope all of you have a nice weekend.

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Update (Blast From the Past Entry)

I have no idea why I kept alluding to rap music. I actually can't stand rap, with the exception of the early 80's artists like Grandmaster Flash, UTFO, and Newcleus.

Isn't it funny how with some past loves, you can barely fathom the love you once had? With me, at least, the truly great loves I've had, number to all of three, including Nikki. Heaven forbid we ever part. I would never forget the love we had. I can honestly say that it would outweigh any former love, hands down.

I pluck hairs from my face and neck all the time now. Actually, Nikki plucks my hairs more often than I do. That doesn't hurt nearly as much as it used to. I'm not sure if this comes from repeated plucking, or if it's related to hormone replacement therapy in some way. Sadly, I haven't been to a single electrolysis session since I wrote this entry.



Friday, September 29, 2006
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Current mood: silly

I know, it's been a long, long time since I've written a real blog. Just to be safe, I'm typing this in Word ("Word, yo. Letters and shit."), because this wacky MySpace contraption keeps messing up in numerous ways. Tom from MySpace is one darned hooligan. Friggin whippersnapper.

Anyway, I've been through quite a lot over the past two months. I have a girlfriend now (Hi, Tee!), and we've had some ups and downs. It's been more up than down (much more), and I consider myself so fortunate to have met her and won her love. I've also had some ups and downs with Vanessa, my best friend and roommate. Thankfully, things look pretty good at the moment, hence the silly blog.

I have been hit with expenses left and right. While out in Queens last month, my car got booted. It was $125 + tax (which was about $9) to have the boot removed, and I didn't have that much, nor any credit to use. Oops! Tee and I had to walk to her apartment so that her mom could help us out with some cash. The whole thing was really bad. I would've been stuck in Queens otherwise, and I had work the next day!

Then my car decided to start giving me trouble in quite a few ways. The brakes were going, so I needed two new rotors and a brake pad. My fuel injector also misfired, causing damage to my distributor cap and the rotor in the engine. So I needed a new fuel injector as well as those two things. My battery was leaking, so that had to be replaced. Thanks to Tee for that help. My engine was also overheating, so the hose and/or the thermostat for the radiator have to be replaced. This still has to be done, but I did buy the thermostat. This all came to almost $700, but thankfully my father was able to help me out with that.

About a week ago, I see that my cellphone bill came to $176! It turns out that my free minutes were starting at 9 PM, when I really thought they began at 7 PM. Oops again! So I got charged for 1100-something minutes. I did quite a bit of talking between 7 and 9 PM. As Grandmaster Flash said, "Now I'm broke and it's no joke…" I had to put off seeing my daughter in September, due to all of this. I hope to go see her in two weeks though.

On the transsexual front, I have not started my real life test (aka RLT, aka "full-time"), as I previously planned. The last time I wrote about this, I was waiting for my ex's lawyer to get off his ass. Well, he did, but he messed something up. He wrote that my ex was to bring Brittany up every month, when we had agreed to alternate months (I go down one month, and she's brought up the next month). So this has to be rewritten. The lawyer needs this in written form from my ex. She hasn't done this yet. Until the divorce is final, I can't risk changing my name and other legal papers. It'll make things so much more complicated, and will bring about a higher chance of losing visitation with my daughter, than if we are already divorced and everything is finalized. I'm really upset that I can't start living my life the way I want to. This in-between crap is getting old fast.

Because of my money loss and falling behind on bills, I haven't gone to electrolysis in over a month. This has caused me a great deal of anxiety as I'm seeing more hairs grow back in. Eventually, they'll be gone forever in any case, but I haven't been able to keep up with it. The other day I was plucking hairs from my chin with a tweezer. It hurt, but it does look better to me now. I'm probably the only one who notices the hairs, at least to the extent that I do, but I hate those hairs so bad. I've had almost 60 hours of electrolysis and I still have so much more to go. Electrolysis is the most tedious part of transition for a male-to-female transsexual, hands down. And it hurts pretty bad too.

I think I've bombarded you all with enough information for awhile. As usual, I welcome all comments. I hope you are all doing well. And hey… keep in touch with a fellow psycho!

Currently reading:

The Kinslayer Wars (Dragonlance Elven Nations, vol. 2)
By Douglas Niles
Release date: August, 1991

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Goals in Jeopardy (Blast From the Past Entry)

My ex didn't tell her lawyer "never mind," but this was a scary moment for me at the time. My divorce wasn't final until October of 2008.



Tuesday, June 13, 2006
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For those who don't know, I'm still technically married. I've been separated from the mother of my child for almost four years now. It was not anything having to do with me enjoying wearing women's clothes and makeup (back then, I thought I was a crossdresser, so she did as well... but she knew such from the very beginning). Simply put, she married too young. She had no childhood to speak of, being shuffled from foster home to foster home, from abusive parents, and then abusive foster parents. In a sense, she started living a normal life when she met me. But things just happened too soon. When she was 21, she was still pretty immature, yet now was married to me, had a kid, and a home to take care of. I ended up taking care of the baby and the condo, and I was alone most of the time. She was out partying, hanging with friends, and sometimes coming home so late that I ended up being late for work (I used to work the graveyard shift). I guess my taking care of everything while she pranced about like a spoiled princess was too much for her, so she decided she wanted a separation. I was deeply depressed for about a month, and then began my healing process. Today, I regret the fact that I ever became involved with her, and I really wish I didnt have to talk to her, but then there is Brittany. My daughter is a shining beacon of love and innocence in my life. I would do it all over again just so I could have my daughter.

Anyway, we have been doing the uncontested divorce thing. We have nothing really to fight over, as far as property or shared items. Visitation and child support have already been worked out, and have been in effect for years. In January, I mailed a check to her lawyer for the index number fee. It was never cashed. A few weeks ago, I find out that the check has to come from the lawyer, not me. The lawyer delivered the summons to me (of which I am not required to appear in court), and he gave me my check back. I wrote him a new check to his name. He said he would mail me the papers on what the details of the divorce would be, sometime during the week. I have not gotten anything yet, big surprise. But at least things are set in motion now. Before the divorce is final, I can't really transition into living a woman's life full-time. She might use it as leverage in court and escalate the whole thing into a full-fledged divorce. I have no doubt in my mind that she would do that to get my visitation rights taken away.

Last night, I get a weird text message from my ex.

"What do I have to do?"

I didn't answer it. I deleted it and marveled on how strange she is sometimes. This morning, while I'm at work, she sends it again. So I reply, like an idiot.

"Do about what?"

"To get what I want."

"What do you want? What are you talking about?"

"I want what I can't have."

Okay, the loud claxons started going off about now. She wants me back now? My first reaction was, Ha. Ha ha. Bahhh ha ha ha! My second reaction: Bahhhh ha ha ha!

I kept telling her that I didn't know what she meant. Then she tells me to say to the lawyer, never mind. Uhh, WHAT? She said she wasnt going to go through with it, and we could just stay like this forever. The only real reaction that I've given her so far, is that she paid him $1000, and I spent $205 for the index number. If she was going to cancel the whole thing, I want my $205 back. She texts back, "Nope." I'm pissed and just a bit scared right now. So I decided that ignoring her for a bit would do the trick. I had too much to do at work at the moment anyway.

I don't know whats happening. If this divorce doesn't happen, I'll have to put off my transition for quite awhile. I'll also have to shell out $5,000 to $10,000 that could be used for other things (surgery, hint hint), if I even had that kind of money to begin with. Being myself has become such a joy for me, that naturally I want it all the time. Other people get to be themselves every hour of every day of their life, so why should I be denied? I have put so much work into this goal of becoming me. Three long years of therapy, hormones, laser hair removal, electrolysis, not to mention the fact that I went back to school so I could do this (almost a year of working full-time and school full-time, ugh, that's a whole other story though). It's too late for me to turn back on this, and even if I could, I wouldn't. I have to do this.

Now that I feel in jeopardy about my transition, I've been reminded of how badly I want this, and how much it means to me. When someone is working towards something for several years, they tend to forget the big picture of what life will be like. Sure, I think of living as a woman and how wonderful that would be for me, but most times it's tempered by other thoughts, day-to-day things... hanging out with this friend, I have to pay that bill, why is my car making that noise? I am mere months away from this transition occurring, and it will be one of the most wonderful things ever to happen in my life. My defining moment, my sundering the chains of my old life to finally begin to live life the way I should. And instead I must stay married to this sad, jealous, immature asshole? Uh-uh. Not happening. It's more than a matter of wanting it now, I need this. I need to be me. She is standing in the way of that. NOT a good place to be.

I'll keep you all posted...

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Addendum to North Carolina Trip (Blast From the Past Entry)

This was a private entry on MySpace, whereas the previous entry was public. I recommend reading the previous post first.

Monday, June 05, 2006
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Current mood: amused

Here are a few things that I didn't want to mention in my public entry, regarding my trip. Those of you on my private list are aware that there's another aspect of my trip, and the reality that I am actually Brittany's father. I didn't wear makeup or bring anything other than gender neutral clothes on my trip. For those of you who don't know what gender neutral clothes might be, it's t-shirts, jeans and shorts, which are of a style that either a male or female could wear them. I did wear a pair of satiny (is that a word?) pajamas to bed, but they weren't frilly or cut in a very feminine style either.

On Saturday, when I went to the beach and pool with Brittany, I had to cover up, naturally. I wore men's bathing shorts, that my friend, Vanessa and her mom bought for me quite some time ago. They're still in good condition. On top, I wore a t-shirt... not a flimsy one, but one that was more difficult to see through. At the pool, those two women (lesbians?) didn't seem to be looking at me much, but I could just imagine what they were thinking, seeing someone who looked like a woman being called "Daddy." There was one point when I went under the water and put my hair back when I came up. Brittany said pretty loudly (word for word, here), "Daddy, you look like Mommy." (My ex always has her hair tied back like that.)

When we went to Miller's Restaurant and Taco Bell, I had some odd looks. The hostess in Miller's Restaurant (who I had wished was on the menu, LOL) was calling me "ma'am." Then Brittany says, "Daddy, I want pancakes." Ummm, can you say "awkward situation?" I knew you could! I got some strange looks from the hostess and other folks gathered in that area, trying to determine which gender I was at that point. And at Taco Bell, there were three guys gathered behind the counter, talking low and laughing at me. If I wasn't with Brittany, I might have caused a stink, and spoken with the manager. But I did my best to ignore them, while getting rather pissed off. How dare you ridicule a customer? You're going to laugh at a customer and make her (yes, her!) uncomfortable? I'm bringing you business, giving you my hard-earned money, while spending quality time with my daughter... and this is what I get? I'll shove that Taco Supreme right up your ass, buddy. And I'll make it crunchy style!

There were a few times during the weekend when Brittany called me "Mommy." I liked it, but it was odd to me. I'm sure the ex would't be happy if she knew Brittany had called me that. It wasn't awkward like the "Daddy thing," so that was good. One time she actually did catch herself saying it. She said, "I'm sorry, Daddy... I didn't mean to call you Mommy." (Wow, she talks like such a grown-up sometimes now!) I told her, "That's okay, honey. You can call me whatever you want to call me." I remember someone at the LITE meeting (Long Island Transgender Experience support group) saying that she lets her son call her whatever he feels like at the moment. For awhile, he did call her by her chosen name, but then slipped back to "Daddy." That made it a bit awkward if she was in the mall, but this is her child. If her son needs to have a daddy at that point, that's what she is... because she will always be the father of her child no matter what. (Now that's a different thing to be saying, isn't it?) If Brittany needs to think of me as Daddy, then that's what I will be. If she'd rather call me Mommy or Amy, or even Auntie, that's fine too. I leave that up to her, and she will call me whatever makes her most comfortable.

The innocence and openness of my child is very profound to me. She knows certain things about me, but they are nothing unusual to her at all. She's seen my boobs when I take a shower, she hands me my sports bras ("Here's your bra, Daddy."), she's seen my toenails painted and my legs clean-shaven. She's even said that I'm a girl in front of my ex (this was about a year ago though), and my ex has said, "No, Daddy's a boy." At this moment, I believe that she thinks of me as a boy (or man) who wears sports bras, has breasts, and paints his toenails. But there is some part of her (that my ex has been trying to de-program) that associates me with girls (or women), as she has called me "Mommy" a few times.

Children are very smart, without bias or prejudice to get in the way. She doesn't know a thing about transsexuality, but in a way, it's like she doesn't have to know. Not yet, anyway. It's easier right now, because she's open to things, intelligent, and sees the world in a different light than adults do. At this stage of her life, she just wants me to be there. She wants me to love and care for her, and do fun things with her. Once you take away society's bigotry and closed-mindedness (the latter of which tends to happen naturally as you get older, and I find to be nobody's fault for the most part), what more can she want? As she gets older, these aspects of society will start to become a problem for her. Her friends won't understand. If she talks about it in school, how will the teachers down there react? Her simple world will become tarnished by others, and she may have problems with her life (and with me) because of it. This is something that I think about often, and sometimes I have considered sacrificing my happiness and well-being by remaining in a male existence, so as to spare her these hardships. But... I would not be happy, and I would probably often be sad or depressed. What kind of parent would I be? Not much fun, and quite a burden in that sense as well.

The main obstacle is my ex, who thinks that even gays and lesbians are freaks of nature and sinners against God. She's a nasty, bigoted, closed-minded woman, with no concern to how others feel or how they want to live their lives. And then there's me. My ex won't understand at all, and I don't think she's sensible or intelligent enough to spare Brittany the confusion of: "Don't listen to Daddy, he's a boy."

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My Trip to North Carolina (Blast From the Past Entry)

I don't have much more to say right now, regarding Nikki and I (see last entry). Things may be getting better, as she went to a lesbian support group and found lots of understanding and kind words there. So we'll see.

I just want to make a brief report on the results of my three-day diet (details posted here). I've only lost three pounds this time around (compared to eight pounds three years ago). Why I lost so much less this time, I don't know. Maybe because I was working in an office back then, and I was on my feet a lot? I'm 149.1 pounds now. I walked to my therapist and back today (long story!), so I got in an hour and a half of walking.

Anyway, here's a look back at my second trip to North Carolina, back in mid-2006. This is in two parts. Today's post is regarding the trip in general. Tomorrow's post will discuss the details having to do with my transsexuality. I've added some photos to make it interesting. They weren't in the original blog.

Some notes as I'm reading along:

You can see below where my penchant for the phrase "blast from the past" may have begun.

OMG! I think I outed myself in my public MySpace blog. I was talking about shaving my legs! Oops. That one slipped through the cracks. It's funny how I only notice these things years later!

EDIT: I just realized, I didn't out myself at all. I was using the name, "Amy" and presenting as female on my MySpace account, so the fact that I shaved my legs wouldn't have raised an eyebrow. It's so much easier living one life now, rather than a double life.




Sunday, June 04, 2006
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Current mood: calm

Okay, I'm finally going to tell you guys about my trip down to North Carolina two weeks ago. I've just been so busy with everything else on MySpace, plus working and stuff (I know, MySpace is the priority here), that I haven't gotten around to it. I already know that this is going to be a huge entry, so it was kind of daunting to me. I went to visit my daughter, for those who may not know.

The usual procrastinator (well, with some things), I didn't pack until the morning I was leaving. This caused me to leave the house at 12 noon, rather than 9 or 10 AM like I wanted to. It was raining out too, and I hate driving in the rain. I picked up a bagel with cream cheese and lox on the way (yum!) and ate it while driving down the Southern State. Before I even got to the Southern State, I almost got into an accident. Someone cut in front of someone else, so we all had to slam on my brakes, and I skidded for a bit. The road was very slick. I did pull out of the skid, but it wasn't a very auspicious beginning. It was slow going because of the rain, but at least it wasn't steady. I might have been driving out of it.

I didn't get to the motel until 10:30 PM. I was hungry, but I made the mistake of unpacking my car before getting something to eat. Little did I know, even McDonald's and Taco Bell close at 11 PM during tourist season. From October to April (something like that), they close at 9 PM. Yes, 9 PM... even the drive-thru closes then. It's a far cry from New York, where Taco Bell is open until four in the morning! So... I went to Wal-Green's and got a microwave pizza. Yay. Well, it wasn't bad, actually. I used to eat those all the time and thus got sick of them. So it was like a blast from the past. After eating it and talking to Nessa, I realized that I left my shampoo and conditioner at home. Arrgh! I went back to Wal-Green's and bought new ones. Then I came back and went to sleep. I remember the first time I went down there, when I was so lonely once I realized I was there all by myself. I felt like crying, and I felt stupid for feeling that way. But it's probably because I have never lived on my own. I lived with my parents and siblings, then with my ex, then with my parents again when we split up, and now with Nessa (and for some of that time, with Brad also... until he moved back to PA). So, being alone and very far away from everyone just made me kind of sad. Also, it may have reminded me of the time my ex-girlfriend Millie stranded me in a motel room. She chickened out and went home while I was sleeping (yes, after we did it... long story, she was a very confused girl), but I woke up and followed her out of the motel in my jammies, with no socks on. I was too late, she was pulling away. And then I found out I had locked myself out of my room. I walked down to the supermarket down the street, thinking maybe she got a snack or something to drink and didn't want to wake me. She wasn't there. I walked back to the motel, on the sidewalk, in the dark, with no shoes on and wearing pajamas. There was glass on the sidewalk. I had to get the guy at the motel to open the door for me, watching the smirk on his face. Anyway, I hadn't stayed at a motel room until March, when I went down to NC for the first time. This time, I didn't feel so lonely. For some reason, I didn't want to go to sleep. I think I was excited. I knew I had to get some sleep though, because my daughter tends to wear me out.

I slept well, though a friend woke me up with a text message around 6 AM, asking me if I got down there okay. It was a nice surprise, so I didn't mind the interruption in my sleep at all. After some texting back and forth, I went right back to sleep. I got up at about 11 AM on Saturday morning. I took a shower and shaved my legs (now that I was wearing shorts). I drove the half hour to see my daughter (there are no motels or hotels closer, which kind of sucks). It's always hard to find the tiny road that they live on (it's a dirt road, actually), and there were construction cones there. I wasn't sure where to get through the cones to turn onto the road, and I was going too fast, and there was someone behind me, so I passed it. I had to drive half a mile just to find somewhere to turn around. Brittany called me when I was on the way back. LOL! When I got there, I knocked on the door, and my ex let me in. I walked to her room while still on the phone with her, so it was a little surprise for her to see me standing right there. She dropped the phone and hugged my legs. She wanted me to pick her up, so naturally I did. I held her for the next five minutes or so, during which she squeezed me really hard (she's getting strong!), and gave me lots of kisses. The ex wanted her to clean her room before she left, but it was really just me and her doing it. I mean, come on... do you really expect Brittany to want to clean her room once I got there? Brittany had the sniffles, and would cough every so often. My ex also warned me again about the seizures she's been having. They're really mild, and she doesn't fall down and convulse, or anything like that. She just stops what she's doing and stares off into space. Then she comes back less than half a minute later. Her doctor says the seizures are most likely caused by the frequent ear infections she had as an infant and toddler. We had to have tubes put in her ears to drain out the fluid. Anyway, my ex was worried that I wouldn't know what to do if she had a seizure. I reminded her that she said she didn't know what to do herself last week, and I told her that I would just make sure she didn't fall or anything. She didn't have any seizures the entire weekend.

It was afternoon when we left, so I took her to Hardee's. We used to have a Hardee's on Long Island, but now I think the closest one is in New Jersey. I would really like to go there on a more regular basis. The lady at the counter was really slow or something. Three times that I said something to her, she just stared at me for a bit and then said, "What?" Uhhh, get off the drugs, lady. I don't think they say "to stay" down there, because every restaurant I went to that weekend, they got confused. They ask me something like, "for here" or "to go." I say "to stay," and they look at me like I have three heads. I got a taco salad, and Brittany wanted what I was having. The bowl for this salad is in a crunchy sombrero-type crust that you can eat. It has lettuce, salsa, beans, chili, and sour cream. They also have these packets of hot sauce that I sprinkled onto it. Brittany wanted some of the sauce too (well, if I have it, it must be good, right?), but I only sprinkled a little bit onto one part of her salad. When she tried it, she made this nasty face, so that was a good call on my part. The teenagers were definitely out this weekend. It looked like they had been going surfing or water skiiing, something like that. One of the guys came in with no shirt on. What happened to "no shoes, no shirt, no service?" Like I really wanted to see this guy's bod while I was eating lunch with my daughter. Brittany dropped her fork and I told her to ask the lady at the counter for a new one. I guess she liked doing that, because while we were eating, she dropped her fork two more times and asked the lady for a new one. I said "enough is enough" at that point.

We went back to the motel, and Brittany couldn't wait to go on the playground there. Yes, they have a playground, pool, and there's a beach right behind the motel. We played "Swinging the Sweetcheeks," which basically consists of me pushing her on the swing, while we say (and she often yells), "Swinging the Sweetcheeks!" There weren't many kids around this time. This was the weekend before Memorial Day, so I think a lot of parents were waiting until then to bring their kids somewhere, so as not to keep them out of school for a day or two. She wanted to go to the beach after that, so we put on her bathing suit (Minnie Mouse), and went down to the waves. These waves were way too big for her, so after we went in farther than just wetting our feet (mine were getting kind of numb!), I had to pick her up over the waves as they came in. It was tiring for me, but she loved it. She would laugh, and practically scream, when she saw another big wave coming in. Some girl passed by and thought it was the funniest thing. She wanted to go swimming in the water, but I had to tell her no. There was no way I could hold onto her and keep us both above those waves. I saw someone getting married on the beach. It was incredibly romantic, and it made my heart start to feel lonely (like it sometimes does). I didn't have anyone to share the sight with besides my daughter, who wasn't interested. Brittany got cold, so we went back.

We went right into the pool from there. It was much warmer. I swam around while holding her, and I showed her how to kick her legs and such. There were a couple women sunning themselves by the pool, and Brittany started talking to them. They looked like lesbians, particularly one who seemed to be going for the Melissa Etheridge look. The other one was rather attractive, and she had an athletic body. I didn't stop to talk to them though... I'm still shy to just go up to strange people and talk. I'm getting better though, and I think Brittany actually helps me with that. Children are so guileless and carefree. They never stop to think of what this or that person thinks of them. I wish I could be more like that. She was asking them what their names were, and where their mommies were. LOL! After that, we went on the playground some more, and soon it was time for dinner.

Believe it or not, I took her to a seafood place called Mako Mike's. Well, it was purely for selfish reasons. I had been wanting to go to one of the seafood places down there (of which there are many in the area) on Friday night, but I got down there too late. The waitress there was really nice, and pretty. She got Brittany some crayons and one of those activity sheets that many restaurants seem to have. That was a good thing, because I could eat in peace. Brittany got a caesar salad, and I got this sampler with scallops, shrimp, and flounder stuffed with crab. The portions were very small for a $19.99 meal. I would've gotten much more at Red Lobster for that price. Hmmm, I feel like going there right now. ;) I thought Brittany might want some shrimp, since she has always loved it, but she didn't. Kids change tastes so often when they're little. When I was trying to leave, Brittany wanted to explore the restaurant and see what everyone was eating. After I dragged her out of there, she insisted on going back in. She said, "I want to say thank you to the lady for the yummy food!" Awww. Well, that kind of grabbed me by the heartstrings, so I let her thank the hostess, since the waitress was nowhere to be found.

When we went back to the hotel, she colored for a bit and played with some toys she had brought with her. They were mostly activity things... drawing and such. Maybe she'll become an artist or something when she grows up. Then, Brittany did something that totally shocked the hell out of me. She wanted to go to sleep! I was like, "Huh? What?" She wanted us both to brush our teeth and put on our pajamas and go to sleep. Hey, who am I to argue? We had the TV on, so I kept it on low for some background noise. She gave me my Pooka, and we went to sleep. I intended on staying awake until she drifted off, so I could call Nessa and maybe my friend, John... but I think I was out before she was.

She woke me up with cuddles on Sunday morning. She's very lovey-dovey in the morning. She must be so happy to wake up and see me there. I took her to breakfast at this place across the street called Miller's Restaurant. We just walked there because it was so close. I was tempted to ask the hostess if she was on the menu (she was yummy too, LOL), but even without Brittany there, I don't think I could have done it. Brittany had pancakes (and some of my bacon... $2.50 for three strips of bacon, Holy Hell!), and I had corned beef and hash, with hash browns (lots of hashing, hehe), and eggs sunny-side-up with toast. I like to soak the toast with the yolks. The corned beef and hash was sooo good. I'd had it before, but just out of a can, so it wasn't nowhere near as good as freshly made. I don't think many restaurants serve that up here. Brittany was misbehaving, unfortunately. She threw her napkin on the floor, insisted on eating her pancakes with her hands, and of course she got syrup in her hair. Then she wanted to sit in this highchair with wheels and have me push her around the restaurant. Uhhh, no... Homey don't play that.

She had peed in her underwear twice on Saturday ("I don't have to go potty." "I'm not holding myself."), so I had none for tomorrow. I had to drive to the ex's to get some. Over an hour's worth of driving back and forth. I was going to just buy her some, but my funds were getting rather depleted as it was. My ex asked me if I could get her some sandals, and I told her that if I did, I might not be able to get home. I got this credit card a month or two ago, and I charged $40 worth of groceries, and two new tires for my car. They never sent me a bill. I was just starting to wonder when it would come. I'm so lucky that they only suspended it after I charged the motel room on it. I would've been sleeping in my car! So... no bill, and card suspended. I was going to pay by phone, but they charge a $10 fee. For a payment of $30, that was a bit ridiculous.

Anyway, my ex's other kid, Christopher, really seems to like me. Or maybe he's like that with everyone. He wanted to show me his room and all that stuff. My ex told him to leave me alone, but I told her it was okay. She seemed surprised by how nice I was to him, and she seemed happy that I was there. I just wanted to get out as soon as possible.

I took Brittany to Taco Bell for lunch. It's funny, because most of the Taco Bell employees on Long Island are Spanish or Mexican. And down in NC? White and Asian. The food and everything else was identical to the Taco Bells back home. She wanted some prizes from the machines, but I had no quarters, and when I asked for some change, they opened all their registers to show me that they didn't have any quarters either.

I had to go to Wal-Green's to get some paper towels. The towels at the motel were leaving little lint balls on my face and body, so I didn't want to use them. The only other thing I had were tissues, if there was a mess or I wanted to wash my hands. She insisted on me getting things for her. I got her bubbles, a little bouncy ball that had Cinderella on it, a plastic watering can, and a little glittery pink diary, complete with lock and key (she lost the key on the same day, so it's kept unlocked now). It was all cheap stuff, but she wanted more and more things. I had to put my foot down. My cash was disappearing rapidly. We went back to the pool, although I didn't go in this time (the water was rather cold today). Then she went on the playground again, and I took some photos of her.

I was busy with something back at the motel, and she was in the bathroom for awhile. I started to worry what she was up to, and I looked to see. She was using that watering can to pour water from the toilet (which was clean, thank god!) onto the floor. I scolded her and cleaned up and went back to what I was doing (I think I was starting to pack some things for tomorrow). When I finished, I went back into the bathroom, and I saw she was squirting my contact lens solution into the sink! "Okay, enough in the bathroom, little lady!" Sometimes I sound just like my mother.

For dinner, I made her some chicken-flavored Raman noodle soup, and I had this Thai soup bowl thing. They're kind of new. They come with noodles, sauce, vegetable packet, and sometimes peanuts. You empty all the stuff in the bowl and just microwave it. They're really good, and I've grown rather fond of them. She wanted to go to sleep (again! holy crap!), so we did. But this time I was able to stay awake. That movie about Sybill was on, but I had missed the beginning (I can't watch movies when I've missed some parts). Once she was asleep, I went outside in my jammies and slippers, and called my friend, Vanessa. I got some Slim Jim's out of my trunk and munched on them while telling her about my trip, and hearing about what she'd been up to in my absence. It was a warm night, but not too warm... and there was a light breeze blowing about. It was quiet because many people had gone home already. It was just very pleasant. I stayed out for about an hour (even after getting off the phone), and then went to sleep next to my daughter.

When we got up, I packed some more things and we got dressed. I was drying my hair, and the hairdryer shut off. I was trying to reset the switch, and a heard a low hum, following by some small sparks coming out of the outlet. Scratch one hairdryer, which I had bought less than a month ago. (I exchanged it when I got back home, and I actually got a free hairbrush, because I forgot to stick it back in the package. Yes, I really did forget... and I'm glad I did.) We played on the playground one more time, and then I took her to McDonald's for breakfast. She got pancakes (she loves her some pancakes!), and I got this breakfast sausage burrito thing. They used to be smaller, and came with two in a meal, but now it's one big burrito. It liked it better the old way. I was asking for the sauce that goes with it, and this Asian lady tells me, "Okay." She stands there and looks at me. "Well, could I have it, please?" "Huh?" Another girl behind the counter pushed past her while shaking her head, and got me some sauce.

We went to my ex's straight from there. She didn't want to go, but she was promised a surprise once I left. That didn't seem to help. She ran out and got in my car and I had to drag her out of it (it was the one time I didn't lock the doors... I'm usually very anal-rententive on locking my car doors no matter where I go). My ex was trying to get me to agree to her driving up every three months. Uh-uh. We're alternating who drives up each month. If I can make the drive every other month, so can she. Eventually, I was able to go, although I missed Brittany as soon as I started pulling away. I stopped at a 7-11 for gas and some supplies (ahem, snacks!) for the trip back up. I got this thing called a "Fireball Sausage," something like that. It's in a little plastic package that had this hot sauce in it. After I ate the sausage (while driving), I saw that there was a little juice on the bottom. I have this odd quirk where I drink some salsa at the Green Cactus Grill, so I poured the little bit of sauce into my mouth! Ummm... can you say "fire breath?" I was choking, and my eyes and nose were running... and all while I was driving. LOL! That's me for ya. :P

On the way back, I stopped at this restaurant/gift shop that's right on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It's so beautiful there on the bridge, looking out at the water and the boats in the distance. I felt lonely again, looking at couples walking around and sharing the view with someone special. I got some fireworks in the gift shop (hoo ha!!!), and a book of stickers that say "Brittany" with beach-related images on them. I also got Vanessa a little holder for her mail. It says, "Things to ignore" or something on it. It says, "Chesapeake Bay Bridge" as well. I thought it was a nice souvenir, funny yet also practical. She puts the mail in there now, rather than having it scattered in random places in the kitchen, so it was a good idea. :) I also got a soft-shelled crab sandwich to go. It was a crab taken out of the shell and fried. The little legs and claws were sticking out of the bun, it was so funny. I would love to eat in the restaurant part if I went down with someone in the future. There's an awesome view of the water there, through these big windows. And the way the room is shaped, it looks like you're in the dining area of a train. They have a nice selection of seafood too.

My drive up from there was rather uneventful, except for the fact that I felt myself getting sicker and sicker as I got closer to New York. Fitting, perhaps? I think I caught Brittany's cold, as I felt a lump in my throat, followed by feeling achey, and then my nose got a little stuffed up. I figured I'd have a bad cold the next day, and I did feel rather crappy, but two days later I was fine.

Anyway, that was my trip. Now you see why it took me so long to get around to writing about it. I'm going back down there again sometime in July. It's a fun time for me, and I'm so happy to be with my daughter. Even the drive is nice, as I get to relax and think about things going on in my life, listen to my music, and snack on candy and junk food.  ;)

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