All Around Sarail: October 2015

Late Nights, Early Hours EOTWP

Week 39

I wore leggings to work this past Sunday night. For all of the cisgender women out there, this isn't a big deal. You're wondering why I'm even bringing it up. Well, for one, hormones have caused enough shrinkage downstairs now that I no longer have the need for wearing a gaff...since I'm a pre-op trans woman. And when I do choose to wear a gaff, like I did this past Sunday for work, it's entirely comfortable now — there's no uneasiness coming from the tuck. So, that's good. And wearing leggings made work all the more comfortable, too. So yay. Chalk another first on the board for me. :)

I'm extremely excited about Tracy's Halloween party Saturday night. At first, I was happy about going, but upset because I have zero monies for buying or putting together a costume. And I would have gone despite this...just to have a good time. But Ruth, being the wonderful human being she is, stepped in

A little tease for tomorrow night...

and purchased a costume I have been dying to cosplay as for years now — when I first experienced the film from which this character leads in, I dreamt of the day that I would finally be able to do so. And that day is tomorrow. I'm so so so so SO excited! <3 I'll post more about it and the party next week!

This past Saturday, Dr. Cathey messaged me to say that my estrogen level was a bit high — that I needed to drop my dosage down from 12mg of estradiol to 10mg a day. At first, this upset me horribly. In my mind, I was thinking how great my progression has been advancing in the past month or so, and dropping the dosage would only hinder my progress. Not true, as explained by Ruth. Aside from the increased risk of blood clotting at such a high level, I've also reached a ceiling limit of what my body can metabolise right now. No problem. I want to do this transition properly, after all. Better safe than sorry, as the saying goes.

My brother follows Matt Walsh on Twitter — Walsh, a hypocritical fundamentalist and bigoted Christian blogger...professional truth sayer, as he describes himself. And every now and then, I'll head over to his Twitter and reply with logical facts and statements against a heated, hate-filled tweet of his. And this past Tuesday, I prompted hate-spewing from several of his followers concerning a reply of mine regarding abortion and rape. So many argumentative fallacies were being committed at every angle from those standing against my words, and by the end of it, one particular woman decided to peruse my Twitter profile and photos. She couldn't come up with a sensible, logical response...so she decided to personally attack me. So, when one woman responded against me saying I should just have a hysterectomy to solve all of my problems, this vile woman replied, "@anna_clay can't. HE has male parts."

The hate is STRONG with this one.

Now, thankfully, I stand stronger and more firm in the ground where I'm planted at compared to a good portion of the transgender community. A comment such as that probably would have created a huge hole of depression in someone — maybe even possibly pushing one on the verge of suicide. And that's what disturbs me. That some twatwaffle woman (or human being for that matter) could make such a statement not knowing the effects of what could happen against her own kind. It bothers me to the nth degree. And what's more is that I haven't been purposefully misgendered since February...when I was

From work — done with the wig (I think)...I do get more awkward stares now...

still living as previous me. And that altercation infuriated me back then. Now, I smiled and laughed (angrily, mind you), and just continued on. I, of course, blocked her sorry excuse of a human existence on Twitter...which bothers me, too, because I don't block others on Twitter or any social media for that matter. Because I want the truth to be heard. I want others to be informed on what actually exists in reality. But I will not stand for misgendering and dead-naming me or any other trans person. You can go right ahead and jump off a cliff with that nonsense. You're wasting mine and others who know what love fully accounts for's oxygen. So, stop it. Just love one another. It's simple, really. I promise it is.

Be good, you guys. 'Til next week! <3

30 October
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Hired Back On EOTWP

Anna

Week 38

I interviewed with the Lob on Tuesday afternoon. It went well. I'm hired back on as seasonal/temporary, but I do know that their CSM will be leaving/retiring during the first part of the new year. Hopefully I can convince the store manager to keep me on after the 31st of January. Going to have to work quite hard during the holidays. This girl can do it, though. No worries there. I've done it for 11 other years, previously, and I can do it again.

As for hours, until their new quarter starts on 1 November, they can only give me around 20 hours. So, I'll keep my Old Navy job for just a few more weeks. After that, I'm gone. I just can't handle the disorganisation. Product not being labelled where it's placed causes so much confusion — especially with clothing...which needs an accompanying small picture. All of this caused me to have a slight anxiety attack on Thursday morning during work. I had to run to the restroom because I started to cry. And it continued during my 15 minute break. I just can't take it. I feel like, because of my experience with Hob Lob, they're expecting so much out of me. And it just isn't going to happen. Hopefully I won't get cashier training over the next couple of weeks. It would be pointless anyhow, though, I believe the main store manager is wanting to train me on that sometime next week. *sigh*

These kittens. Oh muh gawd, these kittens. Juno and Gigi are hysterically fun to play with, and their personalities are developing more and more each day. They fight so much. Juno's starting to get a bit

D'awwwww... :D <3 (^=˃ᆺ˂)

stronger than his sister, and he's biting her harder, causing her to yelp more. I can tell she wants him to stop, but he keeps pushing. Typical male. :P Ruth and I love them so much, though. I believe we have the scratch marks on our hands to prove it. :)

Well, here's the physical progress report for the past two weeks (minus kitty scratches):

No major gains. Loss in the hip department. Ugh.

To finish this post for the week, I'd like to ask you a question. Is there anything you'd like to know or be more informed about, specifically or in general, about transgender people? I can definitely answer questions regarding the trans female populace, and I'm learning more and more each day concerning other sects of the trans community — trans males, gender queer, non-binary, agender, etc. types of people. Seriously. Shoot me a question in the comments, or use the brand new contact form I've created for my site by clicking CONTACT above on the navigation bar. As some of you already know, I'm super open about any and all aspects of my trans status, and I'm not bothered one bit how the uninformed phrase a question. After all, I'm here to teach based on my personal experiences, and that's a much more powerful and personable tool to use compared to just telling a cis-person, "Go Google it or look on a trans wiki page," or the ever-disrespectful, "Go look it up on the internet." As a transgender individual, YOUR personal story is the most important way to inform those around you. Don't hide in the dark. We've done that for far too long.

I'll chat you lot up next week! Take care, and be good! <3

23 October
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Adopted Siblings

furballs

19 October
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Sleep Deprivation EOTWP

Anna

Week 37

Where do I even begin? These last several weeks have been like a never-ending upward climb of a rollercoaster, emotionally speaking. I climb and I climb, but I never reach that point of excitement. I can't see the horizon. It's been almost two weeks now since T.C.'s been gone, and everyday I still cry. I know I'll get through this...as long as my job doesn't turn my brain into goo first, that is.

I smile while at work.
But it's not real. :/

I despise working at Old Navy. My co-workers are superbly delightful, but the work is horrendous. Not in a physically demanding kind of way, but Old Navy is crazy disorganised. Management doesn't know how to train properly (though the women's department manager has been going through things with me a bit more thoroughly since I spoke up about not being trained well enough.) It's like, when I clock in, I can immediately feel the hysteria surrounding me. I don't know what I'm doing, how I'm doing it, or even why I'm doing it. Nothing is truly explained. I hate it. Completely a 180 degree difference compared to Hob Lob. And I refuse to push credit cards onto customers. They're evil, and I won't do it.

I just need more fulfilling work; better hours with better pay. Old Navy isn't worth me being physically and mentally exhausted everyday from going in at 5 a.m. I can't do this any more. I feel like I can't have a normal functioning life doing this.

I stay tired all. the. time.

Let's talk about something different for a change, shall we?

What kind of shows do you lot watch on the telly? I ask, because well, it's October now. And the autumn television lineup is currently running full steam ahead now. Personally, I have a slew of programmes I consume — and I have only ever liked a show or two here and there in the past...before I met The Herd. Then, I started tuning in to all sorts of stuff every week. Currently, I follow (in alphabetical order, thanks to my handy app): Arrow, Broadchurch, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Doctor Who, Downton Abbey, Fargo, Game of Thrones, New Girl, Sense8, Sherlock,Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012), The Big Bang Theory, The Flash, The Walking Dead, Top Gear, and Whose Line Is It Anyway? And to top it off, I enthusiastically follow Manchester United each week they play in the English Premier League. My personal favourite of the bunch right now is The Flash, though. Grant Gustin...yum. And the story is so entertaining! Great characters and really fun action and pace. I love it.

Tea and Downton Abbey.
It makes sense.

I am really loving my hair growth now. It's really starting to come in and come to form. I have to tease it a LOT, but once it gets set in place, it's really nice. It's all poofy on the sides. LOLs. I love it. It's so strange having to use a brush, though. You really don't understand how much different it feels when having short hair your entire life, and only really having the need for a comb. It's a weird sensation. But it's one I welcome. I am definitely inching closer and closer to finally ditching my pretty little wig. It's gonna make me sad, but I know I'll eventually do it. Stay strong, Anna! :P

See ya, space cowboy. Be good. :)

16 October
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An Open Letter

Anna

~ Forward ~

This is a letter written by my wonderfully incredible roommate and sister, Ruth, specifically for my mother to read and take to heart. I know she never reads my blog (she refuses to align with any aspect of who I am), but there are those of you that are close to her that will see this. Maybe it will spark some passionate vigour within you...moving you emotionally to understand why, what, and how. And maybe that message will get relayed into her. Do I want my blood-related family to understand and realise what they've let go of; what they've lost? Of course, I do. It's important — not only for the sanity of my life, but more importantly, for them. Every ounce of pain, stress, and emotional affliction they've felt is 100 percent completely self-inflicted. They didn't have to oppose me. But their religion says otherwise. And their religion is dead wrong. And now, onward to the letter...

An open letter to Anna Foster's mom:

When I was 18, I lost a baby. This month, I should be celebrating my child’s 14th birthday.

As I laid on the carpeted floor of my apartment in the fetal position, holding my stomach in pain, the last thing on my mind was its gender. I knew something was wrong. I saw a fertility specialist months later who diagnosed me with polycystic ovarian syndrome. This means I am infertile.

As the years have gone by, I have come to terms with this. It affected a relationship or two. I decided that I would not do fertility treatments, that it would be infinitely selfish for me to go through all that just to have a little mini-me to satisfy my ego (or the father’s). There are so many kids who need loving parents. My ego comes last. I will adopt when I feel it is time.

Mrs. Foster, I wonder when you started caring about the gender of your child. Did you hope for a boy? Did you eat lots of red meat in the first trimester, hoping that the old wives’ tale would give you a son? Did you really want a girl instead? Did the little speck in the ultrasound burst your bubble or make you love your child more?

Our children are not pets. They are not our mini-me. They are their own people, and our job is to nurture their growth and to love them. You can’t pick your children, and on the other end… we cannot pick our parents. Mrs. Foster, you won the lottery. Your daughter is beautiful, and kind, and confident and smart. It is Anna who has lost the parent lottery. Her mother shows conditional love at best. Her father would probably physically hurt her if he ever saw her in person.

It is your ego that is hurt. It is your pride, your expectations, your own ideas that you cannot force on your child, and that upsets you.

And in case you didn’t know, Anna has found someone else to call Mom (or Mum, as she would have it).

You walked out on your child.

You placed more importance on your child’s gender expression than on their character.

You are now ashamed of your child, because you can’t reconcile your religion with reality, and that is – gender identity is not perfect.

Do some research. Put yourself in Anna’s place. And put yourself in the mother’s place, which should be to protect and love her child no matter WHAT. I had a mother who did this for me. We all need this kind of love in our life. If you don’t provide the unconditional love that is only from a mother, Anna is under no obligation to keep loving you unconditionally back.

I lost my baby. I never knew if it was a boy or a girl. I got to see the little triangle scar it left behind on my uterus as it tore away.

You never lost your child. You disowned your baby. You kicked her out of your life. SHAME. ON. YOU!!

I will watch Anna blossom into a beautiful woman. She’s already there and you’re missing it. I will get to help her with makeup, and dresses, and picking out shoes, and teaching her how to walk in high heels. I will show the unconditional love that you WON’T.

This Christmas, Anna will come with me to visit my grandparents, who are loving people, who adore her to death. We’ll have a wonderful meal, we’ll drink wine with my grandma, listen to old Christmas songs, and spend all day at their house. When you have that empty chair at Thanksgiving and Christmas this year, I hope you know that Anna will be loved more by me and my family than yours. That is shameful. But she is going to live her life, with or without you.

I hope that someday you can put this in perspective. I hope that you can rewind to that moment, when you knew you were pregnant, and remember how you didn’t know and didn’t really care if it was a boy or girl; I hope you remember counting Anna’s fingers and toes and breathing a sigh of relief and joy that your baby was all right. I hope that unconditional love resurfaces in you, and I hope that one day you and Anna can share that kind of love. Until then, she will suffer no longer from your family, because I love her.

Sincerely,
Ruth Jonas

I'm also going to include all of the wonderful comments left on the original post that Ruth made of this...right after the break. Mother, you need to actually see the unconditional love and support from all of these fantastic people.

14 October
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Best Kitty In the World

best friend

T.C. Foster — 1 March 2001 to 5 October 2015

My sweet boy. My buddy. My door greeter. My food preparation assistant. My assistant fried chicken devourer. My favorite TV show watching pal. My lap warmer. My makeup assistant. My water from the faucet drinker. My I'll throw-up anywhere and then watch you clean it up confidant. My I don't approve of your relationships advisor. My string chaser. My spider killer. My finger attacker from under the sheets. My dead mouse at the head of my pillow gifter. My I can sleep ANYWHERE I want fur pillow. My English footy fan. My instigator. My RBF master. My vacuum cleaner lover. My life. My love. My heart. My soul. My everything.

And my best friend.

T.C. passed away Monday, 5 October from complications of intestinal lymphoma. Earlier in September, my loving roommate helped me get T.C. to the vet and on medication to help ease and hopefully even help subside the pain that was developing — pain in the form of a slightly larger than golf ball sized tumor in his lower abdomen. And the medication was working really well. The antibiotic, especially, got him back on his feet once again and bouncing around all over the apartment. He was full of life once more.

But once his antibiotic meds were finished off, the disease took over, advancing more rapidly. In the span of four days, he went from barely losing stability once again to not being able to lift himself off the floor by day four. At the beginning of those first of four days, he lost his ability to pass a bowel movement. It was torture watching my best friend go through that — I couldn't imagine the amount of pain he was enduring. And it continued for the rest of those

T.C. started to not feel well
in late August 2015

four days. On day three, he stopped drinking water. Once again, my wonderful sister and roommate, Ruth, tried helping to nurse him back to health by giving him water through a syringe. It tore me up inside to watch...knowing he couldn't care for himself. And I knew time was running out.

So, when I woke on Monday morning in preparation of finally being able to take him to the veterinary clinic to try and get help, I was in shock and terrified beyond all comprehension at seeing my sweet, poor, baby boy lying halfway under my bed, incapable of lifting himself up to move. It ripped me apart. I couldn't take it. I felt like I was dying inside...which was nothing like what T.C. was experiencing. I wanted to just hold him continuously until he finally ran out of life, but that wouldn't be humane or fair of me to do toward him. And Ruth knew it was time, too. So, on to the vet I went to say my goodbyes. It was truly and honestly, the hardest, most difficult thing I have ever had to do in my entire life — saying a final farewell to my best friend.

But he lived a very cared for, loved, and appreciated wonderful life. Every visitor that got to experience him, every family member that ever stopped by, the few girlfriends of whom got

Every Christmas. Yes, every Christmas. :P

to partake in life with him, he enjoyed every second of it. And I never, EVER stopped loving him along the way. And I never will stop.

I collected his ashes that following Thursday, and he will now forever be by his mama's side. I will never leave him. Not now, not months from now, not years from now, not ever. He's my best friend...the one of which I could always rely on to be there for me. T.C. gave me so much of himself to make things better, to make life more vivid, to make every aspect I've endured over the course of his almost 15-year lifespan easier for me. He was there at my age of 19 to see me in my first female dressing. He was there for each breakup with every girl that crushed my heart (and the one who's heart I crushed) to help console and push me forward. He knew when things were wrong or when I was badly ill, and he did all that he could to make it better for me. He was there when I first put on a female wig (his expression was priceless), and he was there and aided me in my initial steps in transitioning. And he helped push me forward in making my life and who I am a true reality. I just hope that I was able to return all of that love and affection toward him through the years. I gave him the best possible life that I could give him — showing him endless love and care, giving him a warm home to rest in, and providing almost limitless hours of entertainment and fun to create joy in his life.

I am eternally grateful that he chose me to be his life partner, and in turn, developed a lasting bond and friendship that will forever exist as long as I am breathing. T.C. was and is

My sweet boy. I miss him so.

my best friend. And he will always stay close inside my heart and mind. I will continue to love him, just as he always loved me. I hope beyond hope that the elements that made T.C. the living, breathing figure he was are still reaching out...still clinging to that love I've always shown him. It will never stop. I promise.

T.C. is absolutely the best kitty in the world. I will greatly miss you, my sweet boy. Forever.

T.C. - Best Kitty In the World (Entire Photo Album Through the Years)

^The above is a link to a Google Photos collection of photos and videos throughout T.C.'s upbringing. I don't have any from his first year of existence (he was such a freaking cute and adorable kitten), but I have a few starting with his second year. And then many, many more throughout the rest of his life. Feel free to take in the joy that was his life. He affected mine so positively, and I want to share that with the world. I miss him so much, and I want this posted to retain his legacy as I continue on in life. Thanks, everyone, for taking the time to read my thoughts on my little boy. He means the world to me.

12 October
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A Somber State of Mind EOTWP

Anna

Week 36

It's hard to smile this week. In the photo you see above, it's quite forced. There's a major reason why, and you'll find out in an upcoming post soon. For now, I'm sorry. I don't quite have the mental strength to discuss it at length currently (though I have started writing the blog post...as hard as it is to get through it.) So, please be patient with me as I push myself emotionally through this sorrow and anguish. Please.

Another set of job interviews, another set of drawbacks. I had quite a fantastic interview with Dillard's Corporate on Tuesday for an eCommerce writer position — one that I was finely tuned for. I hit every nail on the head pertaining to all of the questions they asked, and even returned fire with my own, wanting to know more in-depth particular aspects of the role I would be taking on. The three women who interviewed me all seemed very impressed. One girl, however, had a look of uncertainty on her. Not regarding answers to the interview questions, not regarding my educational and current career experience, but more so with my physicality.

See, Dillard's Corporate is one of the absolute worst, unfriendly to the LGBT audience companies in this country. And I believe one of the girls (the one I'd primarily be working with, had I gotten the job) immediately pegged me as trans upon seeing me. Because I do not freaking understand how I didn't get that job. At the end of the interview, I was told that they had several more people to interview throughout the week, but that they would call and let me know about it a few days after by the end of the week. That's great. That's fine. I can handle that. No problem. But to receive an email within 45 flipping minutes of leaving the interview from the one girl who was showing me uncertainty, telling me, "We've decided to move forward in a different direction for this position", no no no...that's not going to fly with me. Don't lie to me. Just tell me that me being transgender made you feel uncomfortable, and in turn, made you not want to hire me. I can handle that bullshit. But DO NOT LIE TO ME.

Moving on. I had another interview today fielded for a receptionist position for a company called ARMI, Inc. - a supposed marketing and advertising agency. Sure! I could do that as a receptionist. I'm generally knowledgeable when it comes to those two specific areas of work anyway, so I could definitely be helpful in that role. I get there, I'm having another wonderful interview, and then the guy tells me that this position isn't for a receptionist role...it's for sales. Ugh. No thank you. I can't do that. It's not who I am. I'm not an aggressive enough person to want to throw myself into that field of work. No thanks.

So, here I am back at square one again. Still working my crummy job with Old Navy, still not making anywhere near enough to get by in life. And this struggle is wearing on me. I'm honestly not sure if I'd still be here if it weren't for my wonderfully amazing roommate, Ruth. She's done so much for me, and I'm indebted to her for the rest of my life. Truly. But I'm still filling out applications and turning in CVs. I won't stop until I finally land something great. It will happen. It will.

Here's the monthly progression set...

And here's the two week physical stats report...

Hip increase! Woohoo!

I'll talk to you guys next week. Hopefully I'll have better news for you. Be good to each other. Please.

09 October
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Abort! Abort! EOTWP

Anna

Week 35

Happy to see Dr. Cathey again!

This week's gender appointment was fairly smooth and went over very well. Dr. Cathey was pleased to see my progression, and I confronted her with a few questions concerning certain aspects that have developed over the course of the past few months. I won't go into details regarding those, but hopefully we'll see positive results going forward — it's nothing life threatening or anything like that. So, please, no worries from you guys. She also knows I'm quite confident in myself with respect to my transgender status and physicality, and because of this, she entered the room with another med student from UAMS. At least, I'd like to think that's the reason. Hehe. Cute boy, he was. ^________^ (Ohhhh, why can't I have my GRS now??? Ugh.)

My lab results posted on Tuesday night, and oh muh gawd, are they ever promising. And it makes me wonder about one of the questions I asked Dr. Cathey, but my roommate brought out a bit of light about this one particular question...and it makes a bit more sense now. Yeah, I've gotten more comfortable with my situation regarding living in Little Rock and having a job — even if it is a shoddy one. Anyhoo, on with the lab results!

Estrogen WAY up. Yayayayay!

Right in-line where it needs to be. Good.

Hair growing like a weed.
Ponytail now, too!

After two months of an increased estrogen dosage intake, I am absolutely ecstatic and beyond thrilled to see my level rise so high. This definitely explains the more recent boob development, hips, butt, and thigh increases, too. Wonderful! And it also explains all the crazy amounts of crying, feeling depressed and worthless, and overall emotional sweep I've fallen into. But I'm so giddy right now, you guys. You don't even know. I feel so good. These last couple of weeks, especially, I've been noticing in the morning while standing in front of the mirror, getting ready for work...that my face — sans makeup — is definitely exhibiting some very strong feminine characteristics now. It's quite eye-opening, and it utterly blows me away. My hair has been growing faster, my nails are getting more brittle, and I'm getting more and more hormonal...yup, it's doing its job. I'm happy.

Moving on...

Yeah...

These early work hours at Old Navy are getting to me. It's making my neck pain flare up again, and I feel this is because of not getting an appropriate amount of sleep...or even comfort while I'm sleeping. It's driving me insane. And this low amount of pay I'm getting for even doing this is making none of this feel worth it. It's terrible. Hopefully on Monday, I'll find out some good news regarding possible employment with Hob Lob. Yuck, Hob Lob. But at least the hours aren't terrible, and the pay is better than Old Navy.

Speaking of Mondays, I received an email this past Monday about an eCommerce writer position for Dillard's Corporate here in Little Rock, and the hiring manager asked about setting up a phone interview for Wednesday. Said phone interview proceeded fairly well, I think. She asked some general questions about my design sense and writing style, and then wanted to know more specifically how I would adapt my abilities from previous jobs (Hob Lob and Art Advertising) toward writing about fashion, making it marketable for customers. I answered as honestly and as detailed as I could. I really hope it set an impression upon her. We shall see. Like other interviews, though, she told me that she has other phone interviews to go through this week, but she'd let me know in a few days if I'll get to come in for a sit-down interview. I'm excited. She also informed me the pay is $14 an hour at 40 hours a week. Yes yes yes, please. *crosses fingers*

Anyhoo, until next week! Be good, er'body! <3
-------------------------------------------

Attempting something additional with this week's blog post. I'm going to start including a "blog read" voice recording (the first file listed above) at the beginning of the month post to hopefully showcase how I've developed my voice over the past year — since it's been almost a full year now since I started my voice therapy. For example, the second audio file is a blog read I did for my post on 28 December 2014. Dramatic difference in voice progression. :)

Update: I received an email on Thursday, late afternoon (after writing and recording this blog post), from Dillard's Corporate over the writing position. I get to go in early next week for a sit-down interview to discuss the position further! Yay! Getting closer! :D

02 October
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Late Nights, Early Hours EOTWP

Hired Back On EOTWP

Adopted Siblings

Sleep Deprivation EOTWP

An Open Letter

Best Kitty In the World

A Somber State of Mind EOTWP

Abort! Abort! EOTWP

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