My First Few Days Back in the Big Smoke
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| Hello, Coathanger. Sorry if you're the dude pictured. No royalties. |
At this point of my life, I'd say it's the Norns. At another time, I'd say it was God but I sincerely doubt an Abrahamic god would help me transition and be nice to me throughout. The truth is I really don't know who it is, but every so often they line me up to either fail or succeed miraculously.
This time it's lined me up to succeed. There were so many variables moving down, which I've already written about. Where would I live? Who would I live with? Would I be able to find a place within the two weeks, given Sydney's housing crisis? I was fully aware that I could end up homeless and sleeping rough (and let's be frank, it's fucking cold down here!) but somehow I've managed to find a room and a bed to sleep on, and I did it all within budget and four days from when I arrived.
I met my roomies last week. We drank wine and laughed. I was hoping beyond hope and praying to the gods that they'd pick me because I got such a good feeling when I visited. I have these vibes about people where I can tell what kind of an experience I'm going to have with a person within a few moments of talking to them. It's not really a sixth sense because it's mostly just my anxiety giving me a yea or nay, and I have been wrong, but at least 80% of the time my gut feeling is accurate.
I was on my way to Liverpool to look at a backup room when I got the text that they wanted me to move in. I cancelled my plans, got off at Parramatta, and told them I'd take the room. It's a bit more expensive than the place at Liverpool, but I'm paying for the company.
When I set out to do this, I was more concerned about who I'd be living with than where. Ultimately, I lucked out on both -- the house is in a good suburb, it's a good house, and I'm living with good people who know that I'm trans and are not just okay with it but interested, which I think is fantastic. I've already been bouncing stuff about makeup and shoes off of them, and just living with girls again is slightly euphoric, like I'm where I'm supposed to be in the world. So I'm paying more, so what? All the more motivation to find some kind of job.
I moved in yesterday. Within a couple hours of being here, my mattress arrived -- I found it on Gumtree -- and voila! I had a place to sleep. The best part? It's like one suburb over from the friends whose house I was crashing at (who are the best) and with two girls who I think are awesome people and I'm happy to be sharing with.
So this has all gone really, really, really well, and I'm waiting for the black cloud inside the silver lining </misused_idiom>.
That didn't happen today, but it was a rough day. I had my appointment at the sexual health clinic, and... well, I knew getting on HRT was going to be difficult, it's just painful to hear somebody else say it. I'm going to have to jump through a lot of hoops, especially because I have pre-existing mental illnesses, but the doctor did tell me that we can do this. It's just going to be hard, and a little expensive.
On the way back, I went to House of Priscilla -- a drag store -- and tried on a pair of boots. They fit me at the foot, but not at the calf. That was a little difficult, but the guys behind the counter were super, super nice. I mean, at least I figured out that I'm a size 16 in women's shoes. That's a good thing. Right?
Then I went to Bankstown, which is a goodly journey from the City. I found out that the makeup course I wanted to do is no longer accepting admissions, and that I'd have to wait until January. Again, hard.
By the time I got home I was tired and sore and my Grumpysaurus t-shirt is dirty so I couldn't wear that to warn people. I also started smoking again today, or at least I bought cigarettes, so... bad life choice?
Hard day. Probably harder days to come, so I'm going to have to grow thick skin. At least, in writing this, I was able to look back over things and realise that it's all turned out pretty good.
I need to sleep, though.
