Vignettes: Banking On It

Hi everyone!

Just a very quick mid-week post about a funny incident from today.

I went out to lunch with my friend and co-worker B today. We chatted about various matters, among them my comfort level with finally being full-time. He remarked on how much happier I clearly was, and how at ease I seemed.

I agreed, mentioning how amazed I was that up until last July I had never so much as been out of the house as myself. Now, barely nine months later, I have been full-time for four months (as of this past Sunday - a fact that I totally missed until just now!). The dysphoria vanished as soon as I was living as myself, just as my friends had promised me. I am, simply, happily, me. Nothing more, nothing less.

I also commented on how odd it can be at times. I feel like myself inside, at long last. And I know on some level I look different than he did, even if I really can't see it when I look in the mirror. It can be difficult to articulate, but there is definitely some dissonance between what I know and what my brain perceives. B nodded and said that made sense to him, adding that he suspected that would change with time.

And I soon had an experience to speed that process up a bit. :D




After lunch, I asked if we could swing by my bank so I could deposit a check, and B, good friend that he is, said of course. (My offer to buy him a cup of coffee probably didn't hurt my chances either. lol)

B accompanied me to the bank, and gentleman that he is, insisted on stopping me when I tried to open the door for us and instead held it open for me. Yes, I enjoyed it. :D

I filled out my deposit ticket and waited in line. A teller I didn't recognize came out after a minute or two, smiled and called us over. I returned her smile, said hello, and handed her the check and deposit slip, as well as my debit card and driver's license.

I fiddled about in my pocketbook while she processed the paperwork; B, as is his way, waited patiently. I glanced up a few moments later when I realized I wasn't hearing her typing on her keyboard.

She was looking at my debit card and license with a puzzled expression.

"I'm sorry, Miss... are you depositing this for your husband?"

Whoops. :#)

For various logistical reasons, I have not been able to get into Boston to probate court to get my name changed legally - which means my identification - including my debit card and driver's license - still bear his name. And in the case of my license, his photo.

I apologized (without blushing too much for a change) and explained that no, that was me - emphasis on "was." Her eyes widened, then, smiling, she said, "'Was' is right!"

As she finished processing the transaction, she said she never would have guessed unless I had told her that I was the person on the license. We chatted amiably for a minute or two about changing names and other matters. When she finished, she handed me back my receipt, wished us both a good afternoon, and wished me luck.

B, highly amused, waited until we reached the door to speak.

"Well, I don't think she had any trouble seeing you for who you are, Cass."

Apparently not. :D

***

I took the photo at the top of the post in the afternoon; it is no great shakes (it was rainy and windy, hence the crazy hair), but I like both my new dress and the hoodie with the fur trim (not real, needless to say).

Getting to wear something cute that I really like makes even a mediocre day much brighter. Lord knows I never thought that when I was trying to be a boy.

As I told R afterwards, "Have I mentioned how much I love being a girl?"

Not often enough - not often enough. :-p

***

Not that I need an excuse, but here's a Beatles song that fits:

And one more, since the 15th of April is the day taxes are due here in the States:

Fun fact: the blistering guitar solos are courtesy of Paul! He was, and is, a phenomenal musician...