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thinking about attempting something new, with the desire to actually do something with this domain, and to become less precious about writing in public and in general:

what were the high and low points of the day? and why not begin the exercise in what is historically the hardest season of my year? christ alive i hate january. there’s something about the drawn out series of short, overcast, frigid days that really challenges my will to live.

so, today’s high point: a girl shouted “great license plate!” at me as i was unlocking my car in a parking lot today. in an attempt to inject whimsy into last january (perhaps the worst of all januarys in my life thus far) i sprung for a very stupid vanity plate when i had to purchase a new one for my car. having had it now for a whole year i gotta say it is pretty nice to delight a stranger with a dumb joke.

today’s low point: probably the 90 minutes i spent laying silently with my eyes closed on the couch and then the bed. this isn’t even wholly accurate but it’s the lowest point i’ll write about semi-publicly for now. you ever wanna just take a break from life? not in a suicide way but if it were possible to just pause for a day. or fast-forward thru the drudgery of winter and adjustment and re-acclimating oneself to a whole host of rusty interpersonal skills. but then you remember- the only way out is thru.

every so often i’ll hear a song that pulls out some tender, shielded emotion from the depths of my craggy heart and it’s all i can do to not listen to it on repeat until i suck out every drop of resonance. i don’t even listen to that much big thief but twice now i’ve gotten hung up on one of their songs. both paul and vampire empire felt like a mirror held up to very private parts of myself. one of my favorite ways to digest these kinds of songs when i find them is to memorize them and to teach myself how to sing them. i’m barely musically trained (does band camp and high school musical theatre count?) but i love to sing to myself, most often in my car. in my mid twenties, my friends and i gathered weekly for karaoke night at a neighborhood bar and it was often the highlight of my week. the way singing massages your vagus nerve and the community of singing together while drinking were intoxicating to me.

i have been applying topical testosterone gel to myself for the past year. the experience of changing my body chemically has been fascinating, disturbing, and honestly! really fun. i love to be my own science project. drugs fascinate me. i want to know what kinds of little magic tricks are hidden inside my flesh and in what ways i can coax them out. the effects of testosterone have been affirming in a thousand little ways, but the way it is altering my voice is unexpectedly challenging. i thought that your voice “drops” overnight, or maybe over the course of a month. informed consent is a double-edged sword that i am grateful for but there was no professional offering me guidance on this. my voice has a mind of its own. there is a register i once comfortably occupied that has dropped out entirely, but because i had resided there for the past 20 years or so, i unconsciously still attempt to remain there. i am still waiting for it to “settle” if that is a thing that happens. knowing plenty of cis men i assume it does. but my singing voice is shot. i was a comfortable alto. i am now lost in a sea of unfamiliar range.

so when i find a song that strikes that deep emotional core of me, that translates my confused little thoughts into poetry- what do i do with it now? how do i digest it? burning it out in a loop thru my headphones and into my skull does not hit the same. i have to embody it and force it out thru my mouth. i know i will find my voice and i know i will sing again. but while i wait i do ache for it to return.

and im scared.

more to come soon. until then,

Have a nice bonged furby. $75.