New Clothes

I'm starting to feel like I look good. I'm more confident. I've got more spring in my step. I'm excited to go out. I also am in need of a new wardrobe due to losing a packet of weight. I like new clothes.... always have. It's kind of a guilty pleasure. Though I love also the worn-in t-shirts of ten years plus, and the tracksuit pants for slacking around on a winter morning that are so old there's not an ounce of elastic left in them.... Mmmmm. New clothes are just brilliant for feeling spiffy.

Secondy Puberty

Zits!!!



Fucking hell.

Helmet Hair

I used to love caps. I still do. But now.... I have to be able to commit to wearing them all day. There is just no room for off and on with them any more. The hair does not put up with it.

The hair misbehaves. It is already protesting that I don't like it's cowlicks being wild and awkward. I try to tame them with product. I chop them. They fight grimly and mock my attempts. Introduce a cap into the equation and they are stirred up to new heights of disobedience. If the cap is coming along, it is to stay all day and lock the disobedience away from public viewing.

Enter the worst of all into the equation: the necessary hat. The work helmet. Where all element of choice is removed. Must wear helmet.... most definately will come out with bad hair.

"So You're Going Down the Trans Path, Hey?"

Wow. How do I write about something so deep in me and do it justice?

Hmmm. Maybe I'll leave that one for later. For the moment I'll just state the facts.

I've changed my name, driver's license, work details, bank details, even my fucking gym membership. When I think I'm done, yet another letter will turn up with my old name on it. Some systems will let me change my gender marker and title, some won't. It will get better eventually, with a bit more fight if I can muster it up, or at least when I take the surgery path.

I started testosterone on the 28th of February this year. Just over two weeks ago.



I've found it most difficult to tell the people that I care about the most. I find it hard to even organise my thoughts around how to say it sometimes. But... I'm still Vic, right?

Sun Non-Sense

Some days you have to take your cues from Lawrence of Arabia...