Hitting Nerves Is Not Funtimes
Today's laugh: Freud
Today's song: Smash Mouth - Disconnect the Dots
I've been neglecting my blogging, I know. And despite Jackie's demand for me to get back on it, it was actually a lost email that provoked me enough to post. I guess anger fuels me better than guilt. Or else Jackie's no good at making me feel guilty. Something like that.
This semester's definitely more hectic than the last. I'm keeping afloat, though, so in the end it's no big deal. Whatever keeps me busy is a good thing.
I'll be honest, though; I've never been crazy about being called on in class unprovoked. It's happening more this semester. It always catches me off guard and, even if I know the answer, I end up saying something that's either incorrect/irrelevant or downright stupid. Or perhaps both. Then, once reprieved, I sit there for the next ten minutes thinking about how stupid my answer was, how I know damn well the real answer, and so on. I also simply have never liked the sound of my own voice, and tend to not speak in front of larger groups when I can avoid it.
I gave myself my first unsupervised shot this past Monday. (Anybody else amused that I shot myself up with testosterone on Valentine's Day?) It was also my first time with my first upped dose; doubled. Unfortunately, the shot didn't go too hot. I geared myself up the days leading to it, but once the medicine was drawn and the needle was unsheathed and above my naked quad, I began to psyche myself out. It was a good ten minutes of doing the motion before I finally injected.
It wasn't a clean injection like my other two times, though; I'm assuming maybe my hands were shaking. My heart was beating hard enough where I couldn't really tell. I didn't get the needle all the way in, so then had to push it in further, and I recall accidentally bumping the syringe while trying to dispense. I also either hit or grazed a nerve. I was aware this could happen on occasion (I like to see it as yet-another moment of initiation), but compounding it with psyching myself out, it made matters worse. It kind of feels like you do when you hit your elbow in just the right spot; all tingly, numb, and hurty at the same time in the length of your arm. Only it was my thigh. This lasted on and off for a good 24 hours after, and my thigh didn't feel completely normal until the past day or so. Meh. I made it through, though. I did indeed inject despite the anxiety. I have to remind myself of that. However, it's definitely jangled me for now in regards to next time.
I'm getting into shaving once a week now, partly just to encourage the growth, partly because I like to think I need it. I indeed, much to my surprise so early on, have hair coming in. As expected, it's starting with the upper lip, which is coming in dark. I'm happy about this, seeing as how I was expecting light/blond and really didn't want that. There's also a small patch of finer hair, though still dark, growing in the shadowy area of my chin, just under my bottom lip. So I've been shaving this off with the rest of my fuzz-less face. By the end of each week, it is indeed back to where it was the week before. Now, about 24 hours after shaving, mustache stubble already begins to grow back. Of course, everything is still patchy, uneven, pubescent, and may not be easily noticed by others just yet. But it's there.
People have also started commenting again about my voice. I agree that it seems to have hit a new low level, based on my voice clips from just this past shot to the one before. I still don't consider is passable, but it's coming along.
I've switched back to contact lenses. (I knew it'd be handy to keep those remaining suckers around.) A little over a week ago, I got it in my head that my glasses these days are starting to inhibit my potential for passing instead of hiding feminine features like they used to. Further, while they were a rarity in PA (indeed a hard style to find), everybody and their mother in Boston seems to wear them. More specifically, they seem to be a trend within female-bodied LGBT-esque peoples my age. This has been bothering me for a while now. So my glasses have now been banished to bedtime and initial wakings. I'm using my remaining contacts as a trial run of sorts. If, within a few months' time when I run out, I'm not satisfied, I'll go back to glasses. Either way, it's not a wise investment to buy new frames now; it's best to wait for a few months when my face has stopped various "major" masculinizing alterations. I'm ultimately undecided on how I feel I look without glasses, but I at least know I don't mind the risks of looking increasingly like a hairless monkey as long as I pass for a boy one.
Particularly since changing to contacts, however, I'm noticing strangers are acting different around me. Just in small ways. They're more apt to sit by me on transit, randomly strike up conversation with me, and I've also caught a fair amount in what appeared to have been sneaking glances at me. Though they weren't the "WTF is that thing?" looks I'm so used to receiving. These were different, though I'm not sure what their faces were saying. (And, of course, whenever I'd accidentally catch one of these people looking at me, I'd immediately do what I always do: get embarrassed and stare at the ground.) I also notice that nearly all of these people are females my age. I don't know if this does indeed have something to do with the contacts, is a coincidence, or I'm imagining it entirely. At first I thought maybe women act weird around Valentine's Day for some bizarre reason, but it's continued to happen.
You know what? I just realized I never mentioned the email I lost. It's immaterial, I guess. I'd spent a decent amount of time proofreading and giving feedback to a prospective GCS-er's application packet, and the system hiccuped right when I hit "send" and I lost everything. It sucked.