Hello all. Hope autumn is treating you well. My allergies have been acting up in ways they haven't since before I moved to Seattle over 15 years ago. I don't think they're back; it's just that we had an unusually hot and dry summer this year, which has stirred something up.
I'm not really congested; mostly I get headaches (nasty ones, in several cases), a dry cough, and feel somewhat tired. Once we have our first frost I'm sure I'll be back to normal. (And as I joked with my manager L today, I can finally start wearing the cute boots I purchased last spring!)
I have several posts in various stages of readiness, but need to wrap up a few things before I post them. In the meantime, I wanted to share a moment from last week that stopped me in my tracks - literally.
I was walking downtown around noon on a bright, sunny day. I'd just returned from a mini-vacation to visit my dear friend Alice up above the Maple Curtain (known to some as Canada) that morning (aside: Canadians have the right idea in celebrating Thanksgiving in October when, you know, it actually happened in the first place!), and decided to go for a walk downtown to pick up a prescription.
Perhaps I was tired from allergies, or still a bit bleary-eyed from having risen at 5:30 to catch my flight. Whatever the reason, I noticed something that I suspect would ordinarily not have.
I saw the silhouette of a woman, wearing what looked like a ruched dress, reflected in the store window I was passing. She was taking long strides, her pocketbook bouncing and hair ruffled by the breeze.
I thought, "Hmm... I should check her out"... -until I suddenly realized who she was:
Me.
Whoa.
As I mentioned above, I truly did stop in my tracks.
I was stunned.
I've been full-time for nearly three years.
I've long since become comfortable in my own skin, long since realized I genuinely liked who I was, for the first time in my life.
Transitioning is the hardest thing I've ever done. I've experienced depths of pain and loss I could not have fathomed previously.
But it's also the best thing I've ever done. I've worked and worked - and continue to work - to learn who I truly am, and to appreciate myself, flaws and all.
Part of that - a crucial part of it - is that I've come to realize that I pass. I look in the mirror now and see me, not "him." I've also come to realize, much to my surprise, that other people are noticing me in ways I never once experienced pre-transition. I'm still learning to adjust to that reality (and enjoying the process of doing so immensely, I must say!). :D
For all of those reasons, I was beaming as I began walking again.
For in that moment, seeing the silhouette of that woman, I had my first experience of seeing myself as someone else would.
And for all the heartache and pain, I was reminded once again that it has all been worth it.
And that the best is yet to come.
***
Not that it's ever necessary to have a reason, but this post gives me a great excuse to share this great track from Tom Petty's classic 1979 Damn the Torpedoes album:
And this track is from one of my favorite bands, Oasis. If it's possible for a song on an album that's sold in excess of 15 million copies worldwide to be a deep track, it's this one from (What's the Story) Morning Glory?
This version comes from one of two sold-out shows Oasis played at Knebworth in October 1996 to over 250,000 people. Noel Gallagher, the band's chief songwriter and guitarist, has since remarked that he played those shows in awe of the fact that in barely four years they had risen from playing their first show to perhaps a dozen people to the absolute pinnacle.
I think I've posted this before, but my favorite Oasis song wasn't even released on an album, or as a single. It was, incredibly enough, the flip side of the "Roll With It" single - "Rockin' Chair":
It's incredible that such a great song could be released as a B-side!
Hi all, and happy Thursday evening. Hope everyone is having a good week so far.
I've been meaning to post this for over a week, but just now had the opportunity to finish it up.
Several months ago my friend Nadine, over at Unordinary Style (and you should all check out her blog if you don't already do so :-p), wrote a post about an interview she did with a graduate student, Petta-Gay Hannah, who is writing her dissertation on transgendered/non-traditional individuals.
As you can see from her post, Nadine genuinely enjoyed taking part in Petta-Gay's project, and encouraged anyone who was interested to contact Petta-Gay to chat with her. Like Nadine (and like many of us), I welcomed a chance to do something for our little community.
Accordingly, I contacted Petta-Gay, who turned out to be just as nice as Nadine had indicated. I've included the details below, so I will cut to the chase by saying...
I thoroughly enjoyed the entire experience. :c)
Petta-Gay is very nice, and clearly very smart. We spoke for about two-and-a-half hours. It was quite casual, and not at all academic or stuffy. Essentially, we had a long conversation. Her questions were thoughtful and well-considered, and not at all intrusive. She stressed repeatedly that I could simply decline to answer any question I might have found uncomfortable, but that was not even remotely a concern.
Once we finished, Petta-Gay asked if she could follow up if necessary to clarify an answer (I suspect that was a polite way of saying "if I can't decipher Cass's weird semi-Boston accent" lol), and of course I agreed. We've touched base several times since I've done the interview, and each of those has been as enjoyable as our intial chats.
I would encourage anyone remotely interested to contact Petta-Gay. I think her dissertation will be a valuable tool in helping others understand our community. And you will also be helping a really, really nice person. It's a win-win, in other words! I hope as many readers as possible are able to do so.
I've included Petta-Gay's information here, below the jump. (you can also find it at Nadine's post). Thanks everyone!
I was working on a post, but, as so often happens, life moves so quickly that keeping up is well nigh impossible. In this case, though, I am very happy to adjust on the fly.
It all started last week. I had to attend a wake, sadly, and needed to purchase a new dress appropriate for the occassion. I found one in short order, and headed for the cash register.
I was rummaging through my purse trying - fruitlessly, per usual - to find my wallet.
Suddenly something caught my eye. I looked up - and saw a dress that literally stopped me in my tracks.
For the first time I ever thought to myself, "You MUST buy that dress."
There was only one on the rack.
I checked the label; it was my size.
Without a moment's hesitation I dropped it into my cart and headed for the register. I never even looked at the price. Not that it would have mattered; I was going to buy it. I couldn't explain it; I was drawn to it.
It was shortly before closing time on a weeknight, so there was only one person in line ahead of me, a woman in her sixties. She glanced up as I passed her, then turned around.
"Hon, you are going to look adorable in that!" she said, unprompted.
"Oh, thank you," I replied. "That's very sweet of you to say."
"It's perfect for you. I can tell just from looking at it in the cart," she said.
No sooner did I reach the next register when the cashier, also in her 60s, held up the dress and exclamed, "Oh, my!"
I asked her if something was wrong.
"Oh, no, dear," she replied, smiling. "It's just that this dress is perfect for you!"
"Thank you," I said, amazed. "The lady in front of me just now said she liked it too."
"No wonder," she said. "It was made for you! I'm jealous; I can't pull off this type of dress. But I can tell you;re going to be cute as a button in it."
Needless to say, THAT was a first for me!
My friends J & T had me over for brunch on Sunday. We hadn't seen each other in person for a full year, so I decided to dress up for the occasion and wear it for the first time.
I loved it. It felt wonderfully feminine. *I* felt wonderfully feminine.
They complimented me on the dress, which was very kind of them. J also complimented me for bringing a sweater (I pick things up quickly, you see).
The best part of this saga, however, was still yet to come.
Monday did not start off well. Work has been even more chaotic than usual, which scarcely seemed possible. Long story short: the crisis du jour was resolved, and we finally, mercifully, finished this project (other than a few stray documents I need to update once I am given the information to add).
Near the end of the day, I was having a relatively intense work-related discussion with my friend A, whom I have mentioned in this blog before. She is extremely smart, very sweet, quite stylish, and also quite lovely. (Those traits are not necessarily listed in order. ;-p)
We were discussing several of the issues that had been uncovered over the past few days when A suddenly stopped speaking. She stepped back and looked at me for a long moment. It felt as if she were seeing something new.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Cass... you look absolutely gorgeous today!" she said, smiling.
"Oh, thank you, A!" I said. I am certain I was blushing furiously. "That's such a lovely thing for you to say!"
"It's true," she said. "You really do look beautiful, Cass. You need to wear this style and these colors a lot more often. They really suit your looks, your coloring, and your personality."
I was - am - incredibly flattered. I am not used to anyone really noticing me. I don't say that seeking pity, or out of self-hatred; it is a simple observation. I didn't want anyone to notice me for most of my life. I preferred to lurk in the shadows, where it felt safer. Lonely, but safer.
People do seem to notice me now; I was actually working on a post about the recent rash of total strangers coming up to me to say something about my hair. It's happened a half-dozen times in the past few months, which is hard to belive. As R and S have pointed out, though, "people like gingers." Apparently so. lol)
I am still shocked, pleasantly so, that A would be moved to say that to me. Quite truthfully, I don't see what she must see; I still see him in the mirror, or at least traces of him, every time. I certainly don't feel cute, or pretty, let alone gorgeous.
Perhaps that will change as time goes on and my memories of being "him" fade further. (It is already happening, just as my friends predicted it would. I catch myself referring to "the boy" more and more often as if he were another person altogether - because, of course, he was.)
For now, though, it is wonderfully, incredibly affirming to have someone I look up to in terms of style and presenting oneself pay me such a lovely compliment.
I have a feeling that moment will stay with me for some time to come. I am smiling right now just typing these words. Perhaps all of the hard work and heartache and stress are beginning to pay off.
I look forward to finding out in the days, weeks, and months to come. :c)
***
Here are a few shots of the dress in question. I love my expression in the first one; I have no idea why on earth I have such a mischiveous gleam in my eye though! lol
And here I am wearing my glasses:
April calls this one my "sexy librarian" look. I will take that - with the caveat that I cannot WAIT until I can put my hair up in a bun and *really* complete the look. Check this space in one year's time, I suppose...
***
I am on vacation, as I noted in my last post, and am writing this in my hotel room after returning to downtown Newport from Day 1 of the Folk Festival. It took me over three hours to drive here from Boston, which is typically a 75-80 minute trip, but it is all good.
I saw Band of Horses and Ryan Adams, both of whom were terrific. (The new album from Mr. Adams is going to be a barn-burner, if the songs he debuted during his set are any indication.)
I posted clips of both acts in that previous post, so here's one of another act I am very much looking forward to seeing this weekend: Shovels & Rope.
Aren't they just too cute together? They're a husband and wife duo; their second album is due out in a few weeks, and I am very much looking forward to hearing some of the new songs from it.
I hadn't eaten in nearly 10 hours by the time J finished working on my hair, which I realized when a headache began to set in as she was blow-drying it. Accordingly, I immediately went to Starbucks across the street for iced coffee and something light.
I wound staying until closing, chatting with my friends S and B, who were working the closing shift. Since it was getting late at this point, I decided to head back to the mall for dinner rather than make it at home.
The mall had closed about 30 minutes earlier. Typically the restaurant is very quiet by this time, even on a Friday, but last night both the bar and the dining room were packed. I even had to wait for a table to open, something I don't ever recall happening there.
And that was when the evening became a bit interesting - but with a nice ending. :)
This is one of those posts that arrived out of nowhere.
In this case, really out of nowhere.
A recent post noted that it was three years ago (plus a few additional weeks now) that my life truly began. That was the day that I finally acknowledged who I was, realized what I had to do, and started on the long road that brought me to where I am today.
I had mentioned what the day represented to my friends R and S late the previous week. Being the dear friends they are, they decided that Cassidy deserved to celebrate the occasion of her first birthday (so to speak) as herself.
Follow along below the jump for more on what they did, and how it helped me appreciate how far I have come, and understand what to do to continue that journey.
I woke up in the middle of the night, shaking uncontrollably, after another in an increasingly vivid dreams that I could no longer dismiss, as I had done my entire life.
Dreams about the life I should have been living, the person I should have been, but that I had never dared admit were something I wanted.
Until that night.
I realized at that moment that I could no longer live a lie.
Not one second more.
I finally told myself the truth:
I was a girl.
It was not a moment of triumph, or relief.
It was, really, an admission of reality.
This was never going to go away.
I fought for as long as I could, as hard as I could.
But I could fight no more.
I was worn out.
I had to give in.
I had no idea if it was even possible.
Not just in terms of passing. But in terms of the price I would have to pay, and the sacrifices I would have to make, financially, emotionally, and more.
But I resolved then and there that I would do the best I could to live the life I deserved.
I was terrified.
But I knew the alternative was even more terrifying.
So I chose, as one of my favorite songwriters put it, to kick at the darkness.
And three years later... here I am.
:D
It has been the hardest thing I have ever done.
And the best thing I have ever done.
The journey to self-acceptance that started in the early morning hours three years ago is a long one. I have made tremendous progress, and am proud of how hard I have worked and how far I have come in the face of sometimes daunting challenges. And while there are still miles to go, I know I will do everything within my power to reach the destination, to live the life I want, and deserve, to live.
Pictures can only show a small part of the journey - but still an important one. I am approaching two and a half years on hormones in a few weeks.
I know I have changed - if only from how others react when I show them photos of "him" and then of me. lol In particular, I can sense that the changes have accelerated in the last few months. I have been full-time for just over four months, so I suppose it's a combination of hitting the two-year mark late last November and of finally becoming comfortable as myself at long last.
At any rate, I thought I would share a few photos to show that change over the last three years. (Some of these are repeats, but hey, recycling is a virtue, is it not? ;))
The photo at the top of the post was taken early last week, and the next two were taken last Thursday, April 24th:
Stay tuned for further changes! :D
***
Three really *is* a magic number:
I adored Schoolhouse Rock growing up, and have always found this particular song to be surprisingly moving.
It's just a shame King Arthur didn't hear this back in the day:
Oh well, things turned out OK there for everyone. Well, everyone other than the rabbit... :D
Just a quick post to note that today marks two months since going full-time. All I can say is… whoa.
Too much of it took place under dark skies; I had a great deal of loss and heartache to process. I am still more tired than usual; I suppose changing your gender can lead to that. ;c) But I truly feel as if my life is finally, at long last, beginning to take shape.
I have many things I want to experience; I will write more in the days and weeks to come. But it boils down to this: I am through hiding. From people, from experiences… from life.
Instead, I am going to embrace all of those things, and all that they entail, both positive and not so positive. I don't expect everything to be perfect from now on. But I will face any challenges as myself, at long last. And I will do so knowing what I can accomplish when I put my mind to it.
As John Hiatt sings, "You can live in fear or act out of hope." Well, I am through living in fear. And I am going to do my best to act out of hope instead. I may not realize all of my dreams, but it won't be because I didn't try.
Have a good Friday, everyone. And Happy Valentine's Day, for those of you who celebrate it…
***
BTW, the photo at the top is a few weeks old (you can tell from the lack of earrings and flaming red hair). lol But in any event, I still kind of like it. :c)
***
Here's a lovely song from Easy Tiger, Ryan Adams's 2007 release with the Cardinals:
Here's an intimate version of my favorite song from the same album (it was apparently spontaneous, given that it takes a moment to start):
I hope he someday records an entire bluegrass album. He certainly shows here that he has the songwriting chops to pull it off.
We here in the frigid Northeast are simply grateful we are not being subjected to yet another snowstorm this winter. We had 14 inches (35.56 cm) here on Wednesday, with more predicted for Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Sigh. At least baseball's spring training camps open in Florida and Arizona next week...
On to some ponderings about the last two or so months, and what I am doing as a result of surviving that dark stretch. Hint: it's all good. :D
Hi all. Hope everyone is enjoying the weekend. :c)
I'm feeling a bit better after taking the week off. Still tired, which is to be expected, I suppose. I have quite a bit I need to process on a number of fronts from the past few weeks. It may also be from the time of year as much as anything else.
Hopefully things will slowly improve in the coming weeks. I hope that is the case. I will do what is within my power to make it so.
I have several fairly long, rather serious posts to write, but I thought I would post a short one about a funny moment from Thursday evening. :c)
I am emotionally drained at the moment, so I will apologize in advance if the tone of this post is somewhat skewed. But I need to write it before I can go to sleep.
I finally met with my parents today, about the events I've discussed in my recent posts. I may or may not go further into them at another time, but for now I will just cover the basics.
It was stormy, it was ugly, and it was raw.
It was, in short, everything I predicted would happen.
It finally ended with what must suffice for now as an "acceptable" outcome - and, most important, with my integrity and dignity intact.
More below the fold.
(Don't be afraid - it isn't *all* doom and gloom… just most of it. :-))
That's right, boys and girls, it has been two years (!) since I beganHRT.
That is simply astonishing to me. It simultaneously feels as if it happened an eternity ago - and yesterday. How is that possible?
Follow along, below the fold, for more!
I think the biggest change in the past year has been internal. The single most important event in my transition, in retrospect, happened just before last Christmas, when I finally allowed myself to cry - to really cry.
I wish the circumstances could have been better, but it was absolutely necessary for me to let go. It is no coincidence, I think, that I was addressed as "she" in public - while in boy mode - for the first time not two days later.
That has become a common occurrence, something I still find remarkable. I don't think I look all that different; clearly, others think I do. Just last week my colleague RO told me he didn't recognize me in photos taken just before I started HRT. Given that I am addressed as "Miss," "she," "her," and so on more often than not while out and about - even in boy mode - I have to concede they are on to something I simply cannot see yet.
I suspect it is more than just my appearance, however. The moment I allowed myself to finally cry that day was the moment I think "he" began to let go, and allowed me to become myself. Not two weeks later I marched into a MAC store, unplanned - again, in boy mode - and calmly told a makeup artist I was transsexual, and hoped they could help me.
Two days later they did, giving me a full makeover - at dinner time, on a Friday evening, in the front of the store. I didn't realize it would be like that, but I remember thinking to myself that I have every right to be there; I'm a woman, and I should have been able to do this my entire life.
I sat there for over two hours, in full view of everyone, while the artist worked her magic. (Trust me - it was magic, given how pale and sick I was while recovering from the flu. She did *not* have much to work with. lol)
At one point the manager who had booked the appointment came over and told me she and the other staff members had been watching, and were amazed at how calm I seemed. I admitted I was amazed too. Her immediate reply: "It's because you belong here."
The other major tipping point this year was when I finally spent a day as myself outside my home as myself. Again, I was amazed to realize it felt… normal. Completely, utterly, normal. Even after I outed myself to the very first person I spoke to that day. :#) Cassidy Elizabeth, Mistress of Disguise, foiled again!
I am beyond fortunate that I seem to pass fairly well, given that I have barely begun to master makeup, or had my hair cut properly (it is an unruly mess right now), or learned much about style. I will hopefully improve on these, and other areas, the way I try to do with everything: hard work and practice.
To touch on the physical changes for a moment, the most visible change to me is how fast my hair is growing, particularly in the past few months. It seems to have gone into overdrive for some reason. My back and chest, meanwhile, are nearly clear now, which is pretty remarkable, considering where it was a year ago. (Sorta gross, I know, but there it is.)
I have also been startled by the progress we have made in my electrolysis sessions, especially the past month or two. I haven't shaved my face since last Thursday (sigh), but it was only today that it is noticeable. The discomfort is beginning to pay dividends - yea!!!
As I wrote yesterday, I cannot wait until I am full-time (24 days and counting!). I am wondering if lifting the constant strain of trying to pretend I am someone I am not will be noticeable. My therapist has said I have no idea what an enormous burden it is, and will not know it until it is gone.
I know I cannot wait to see what changes the next year brings, physically, emotionally, and otherwise. I am determined to get back on track to exercising regularly after nearly two years of assorted illnesses, injuries, and other woes. It is really important to me, and when I make up my mind to do something, I do not let anything stop me. On this date next year I am going to be in the best shape of my life. Book it. :c)
I will end with a huge thank you to everyone who has helped me in more ways than they can ever know, or I can ever repay. That includes both my dear online friends, those of you in my life offline, and of course my sister and nephew C.
Calie, Halle, Becca, Jenna, Leslie… you have been, and continue to be, an inspiration and a source of comfort. The same goes for Jen (from Jenesis), Debra, Faline, and others who are either no longer online or are living their lives as themselves.
A special shout out to Kelli, Stace, and, especially, April, for your unwavering support and friendship. I cannot imagine how I managed without you in my lives before this. (Or, to put it another way... where the hell were all of you before this?!?) ;-p OK, no more snark. I love you all more than I can ever express. :') Thank you SO, SO much!
Thank you for joining me on the ride so far! Cannot wait to see where it takes us next year!
***
Just wanted to post a brief note about the title. There is a story to it that involves (of course) April.
She decided earlier this year that she and I clearly merited our own sitcom, given our shared unique (read: weird) sense of humor and warped view of reality.
I have learned to humor her in situations like this, so I played along.
A: "This could be really great for both of us, Cass!"
C: "Um… okay. So, what's your plan?"
A: "Well, first we take the nation's TV screens by storm. Then, once you and I are America's sweethearts at the end of our first season, we use that as leverage."
C (confused): "Leverage for…?"
A (indignant): "Our boob jobs? What else?"
C: "Oh, of course."
A: "We get Victoria's Secret to sponsor it. And we show both of our surgeries on live television! I'm thinking one-hour special."
C: "One hour? Have you looked at either of our chests?!? We're both flatter than a Utah dessert, hon."
A (after a moment): "That's true, isn't it?"
C: "Better tell them to make it a mini-series."
So there it is. Let me say, here and now, for the record:
Fear not, for we shall both forever remember all of you little people once our inevitable rise to stardom begins.
Or... maybe not. (Hey, those all-night bacchanals at Brangelina's won't attend themselves, you know.) Perhaps we'll just hire someone to remember for us…
Anyway, that's the story behind it. (You're welcome.)
Oh, what was our second proposed title, by the way? Why, here it is:
The Bold & The Boobless
Send us you cards and letters to let us know what you think!
***
Just thought I would repost some pics, plus one new one, for easy reference in case anyone is interested.
June 2011:
November 19, 2011 (HRT day 1):
June 2012 (eight months):
November 19, 2012 (HRT, one year):
July 6, 2013:
July 20, 2013:
July 27, 2013:
August 3, 2013:
This is my favorite so far, which is why I put it at the top as well. This is how I wish I looked all the time! :c)
October 20, 2013:
November 19, 2013:
I deliberately took one the night before HRT, to show the difference between my beard now, after 14 months of electrolysis, and the day I began, above.
I had shaved *that* morning in the picture taken on 11.19.11, if you can believe it. And in this picture, I last shaved… five days ago. I find that encouraging. :c)
(For the record: I *am* not topless in this picture, nor am I any of the others that make me *look like* I am, er, unclad. :#) The "girls" are simply not yet up to the task of holding up some of my nighties. Honest! Guess I need to ask Santa for a bathrobe...)
Really looking forward to seeing how I look a year from now! Curious to see if the changes are mostly over, or if they still continue. Should be interesting either way...
***
As a full service blog, I wanted to post the following link, courtesy of The Onion, as a public service. It offers some useful tips for we girls in the workplace. I hope you find it as enlightening as yours truly did:
Watch and learn, girls, watch and learn. (I particularly like # 2, incidentally.)
***
I would be remiss not to include something from one of my long-standing favorites, so I shall go back to Pearl Jam, and a couple of deep cuts that I have always loved.
First, this gorgeous, haunted gem (and perhaps my favorite PJ song) from 1996's underrated No Code album:
Eddie Vedder has since admitted he wrote this about himself, detailing his struggles to deal with the massive fame thrust upon the band in general, and him in particular, after their first three albums. Happily, both he and the rest of the band seem to have survived - and prospered.
From 1998's Yield (also an underrated album, imho), here's "Wishlist." It began as a lark in the studio, but quickly became a favorite of both the band and their fan base.
I always liked the ambiguity of the song's final verse:
I wish I was your favorite song
The one that you can't turn off
I wish I wish I wish I wish
I guess it never stops
That last line could be taken several ways; is he saying he will never stop wishing (in a way that implies he will never be satisfied)? Or is he wishing that his/her favorite song goes on forever?
I suspect it is the former, since he made a small but telling change to the final line when I saw them at the final show on their 2000 tour in Seattle:
I wish I wish I wish I wish
I guess my list goes on
That always struck me as a more hopeful ending. He isn't resigned to feeling he can never be satisfied; instead, he is looking forward, hopeful about what is ahead that might bring joy. I have always preferred this ending. :-)
It's 3:45 AM on Monday, and I cannot fall asleep, much as I wish I could.
My job is quite stressful, as you have no doubt gathered.
This week will be no different.
In fact, I suspect that in about five hours I will be explaining yet again to the upper mucky-mucks at work how I let them down by not being able to simultaneously handle three full-time jobs at once.
And I will do so by myself, yet again.
(My manager L, whom I adore, is on a well-deserved biking vacation this week. Put on that sunscreen, L!!!)
As for my personal life... well, that has also beenchallenging at times the past few months.
Please forgive the sarcasm and cynicism.
It has been a trying stretch, and I am tired.
But I am also a happy, optimistic gal at heart. :c)
(Stop laughing, April!)
And to demonstrate this, here is a brief, upbeat post for your Monday morning!
Here's a late night, I-am-too-tired-to sleep post for you.
I have been fighting a minor stomach bug off and on the past few weeks.
And it is pavement-meltingly hot and humid here, and will be until Saturday. (The ol' hair product is getting a serious workout this week, I can assure you!)
But mostly, I am simply worn out.
Thankfully, my vacation starts one week from today. Yea!!!!
So... on to the point of this post.
As I noted in a recent post, I have most definitely passed a significant point in my transition:
So... I come home from my post-workout cool-down at Starbucks, where I've rewarded myself with my favorite toffee nut iced coffee.
(While there, I somehow wound up serving as the middle girl in an animated text message exchange between my manager L and April. The end result is that L announced the following:
a) My parents need to adopt both her and April. (She's tasted my mother's brownies; 'nuff said.)
b) She is going to join April and I on our girls-only road trip. Well, one of them, anyway; we're up to about ten destinations so far!
We were a bit reluctant to add anyone, even someone as cool as L - until she mentioned her Dad's vintage '65 Mustang.
His fire engine red Mustang.
Which is a convertible.
And which comes with a working 8-track player.
L and I are hoping that the smelling salts finally awaken April from her bliss-induced reverie upon hearing all of this at some point in the next 24 hours.)
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