Gather round children

For another update on trans status

Two more weeks passed. I should have done the shot yesterday, but the way I see it is, I have a few days’ leeway here, so I’m not gonna freak like some chick who forgot to take her pill in time.

I’m probably gonna do it tonight when I’m baked out of my fuckin’ mind, just cause I haven’t tried that before and it seems fun. Isn’t weed supposed to be a painkiller?

In other news, I have an appointment on the 4th to test my T levels. I despise having blood drawn. The needles for that are ginormous and hurt like bitches. I really don’t like needles.

And for the tragic event of the day, my mom threatened to take me off of my school’s health insurance because she doesn’t wanna facilitate my hormone-taking at all ever. 

Okay, that’s it for the sad parts. Now for the happy parts.

HAIR EVERYWHERE. Ass hair. Leg hair. Don’t have facial hair quite yet, but my whiskers are turning darker, which makes me look incredibly weird. I don’t shave yet though. 

Voice is definitely a few notes deeper. I like the vibrations. It’s a nice feeling. Can sing again, which is super awesome. Still cracking though and nowhere even close to done.

Met up with a friend yesterday whom I haven’t seen in a while. He said my face shape looked more masculine. Whoo! I’m growing up! I’ll be so hot, I promise. Hollywood hot. Not even kidding. 

K that’s it for tonight kiddies.

I am updating this here blog that I haven’t updated in forever

Cause I’m being too caught up in my legitimate blog. The one that has my name on it and shit. 

The reason I’m caught up in it is because I feel less of an urge to post things that I don’t want anyone in my life knowing about (crushes, trans shit, whining) and more of an urge to blog about this:

and this:

Yes, tumblr, I have turned into one of THOSE people.

Because this blog is actually secretly my shame-fest though, I might be posting some unsavory personal details sometime soon. I’m going through a nasty life-crisis of the ‘who am i? where am i going?’ kind, and writing things down always helped me make sense of things. 

Toodles, motherfuckers!

I hate it when I’m reading something really really interesting, and I like the plot, and suddenly there’s a reference to smoking weed and it’s totally demonized like a hard drug. ESPECIALLY when there are copious references in the same story about getting drunk out of your mind. People like that make me shake my head.

OK IDEK what this is even

I’m in this guy’s class for the whole semester. Don’t really notice him.

After classes end, notice him and have a few really great conversations.

Message him that I wanna be friends, he responds.

Talk for 5 straight hours one morning, text back and forth continuously, but he seems reluctant to meet up. He acts adorable though. Sends me fucking good morning texts!

Invite him for picnic on Sunday, he agrees.

Hang out with him for a couple hours on Friday. It goes a bit weird cause he’s high out of his mind the entire time, but it’s generally ok.

Try to text him the next day, no answer.

Try to text him day afterwards (day of picnic), he responds saying that his head hurts. Have short conversation, which ends after he ignores two consecutive texts where I’m asking him when he wants to meet up and offering to come over.

I didn’t even come on to him. I just tried to be friends first. I might be wrong here, but if I felt a connection with him, it should go both ways! I’d be fine if it was just a pretty face, but I genuinely liked him.

IDEK anymore. Mixed messages left and right. I know I’m overthinking this. I’m just not gonna contact him for a while. If he wants to be friends, he’ll contact me. Something tells me he won’t though. WTF did I do wrong?

The post in which I will lay out approximately what I actually want to be my perfect summer (mostly the bits about my crush, sadly)

So there’s this singer, her name is Cassie Steele. She sings amazing music, including the following song: Summer Nights

I know no one will actually click and listen (this is tumblr, our attention spans are tiny, i’m actually kinda surprised anyone’s reading this), so I’ll basically outline the kind of atmosphere that goes along with it.

Imagine a beach, at night. You’re with 3 or 4 friends, around a campfire, with a guitar and booze and weed. There’s a breeze, it’s warm but not stifling, and you feel an immediate connection with everyone there. You feel like there’s nowhere in the world you’d rather be. You feel a sense of contentment, and you lay down with your head on someone’s lap and stare sleepily into the fire.

That’s the kind of summer I want. Not necessarily with beaches or booze, but with a sense of adventure and contentment and spirit. And a warm breeze.

Now onto the crush. The saddest thing in this whole ordeal is: I honestly feel a connection with Steven. Out of the 3 or 4 times we talked, I feel like he’s one of my kind. You know the feeling. There’s different kinds of people on this earth, and I swear he’s one of mine. He’s like me, you know? I feel a kinship with him. That’s what gets me. That’s what makes me so determined to see SOMETHING happen. I feel like this person is supposed to be in my life. I feel like he could be my partner in crime, you know? The person everyone wants to have, to do crazy shit with.

And my brain keeps imagining these scenarios. I don’t want it to, I don’t want to overthink it, but it goes ahead and imagines us together this summer. Camping, and cussing out the fire we’re trying to start, and then cuddling in the small tent and telling ghost stories. Exploring SF, and finding a really cool way out onto a roof, before we have to flee the owners of the place, all choked up with adrenaline and laughter. People watching, and making up a secret language to talk about people around us without them knowing. Going on road trips, driving out to the beach and getting impressively hammered while playing the stupidest drinking games. I can imagine that with him. That’s how I want to spend my summer. With him.

It’s so weird for me to think about, you know? He was in my class for this whole semester, and I paid almost no attention to him aside from “That blond kid in my class, kinda weird.” And now, he’s all I can think about, and the roles are reversed. Now I’m the weird and obscure one, and he’s the main character of the story. And I hate that.

All I wanna do is watch cartoons with him, and go to festivals, and read in trees, and make fucking pillow forts. I wanna do all the awesome shit that makes me me, and I wanna show him my world and I wanna learn about his.

Sorry, no gifs today. I’m just trying to sort out my mind.

I’ve decided that I, at almost 19 years old, am an almost perfect example of a 14-year-old boy.

I look like a 14-year-old (‘nough said).

Sound like a 14-year-old (cracking voice).

Feel like a 14-year-old (summer lovin’!).

And act like a 14-year-old (last time i checked, i made some ghost noises at someone’s open window and ran like hell when they turned off their TV to investigate).

So yeah. Hi guys.

Here’s a good indicator of how my crazy stalker brain works on crush hormones

So I sent Steven that thing on FB yesterday afternoon, right? And FB notifies me now when someone sees my message. It’s the most stalkery thing ever - a new feature that gives a timestamp on when your last message was seen by the recipient.

(creepy i know.)

So point is, he received it at 10:13 PM last night. No, of course I’m not above taking advantage of stalker gadgets that my internets provide me with. What do you mean?

So the take-away of this is: It’s been 24 full hours since he saw it. He’s been online several times since then. It’s not like the message was even an obvious flirtation. I was asking him to hang out and stay in contact, as a friend. And the fact that he hasn’t answered means one of 4 things. I will list them in the order of decreasing desirability.

1. He’s had a crush on me forever and ever, so he’s gushing to all his friends and trying to come up with the perfect way to answer.
2. He was too lazy to write me an answer.
3. He doesn’t really care enough to answer.
4. He actually thinks I’m a creepy idiot whom he doesn’t want anything to do with, so he doesn’t plan to answer.

Pretty much only 2 of these are even desirable at all, actually. If I had to bet, I’d say #2 is the likeliest. And I’m well aware that this range literally spans all of the possible opinions he could have about me. But come on, who waits that long to answer a friendly request to maybe hang out sometime? IDK. 

(all my emotions.)

K this is so enough internet for today. I’m sorry I’m a dork with a crush. I’ll let you go do something more productive than read about my lack of life.