My journey towards femininity, with all the bumps in the road. Who knows where this road will lead? But it certainly will be a prettier road, and one well worth traveling.
Friday, November 22, 2019
It's amazing how much mess I made and had to unmake.
No, this is not my bedroom. Mine was much more messy than this when my cleaning lady called yesterday to tell me that she was coming over today. So I made even more of a mess before cleaning things up at 3 am. But I got a lot done, as 3 baskets of laundry that were in the chest in front of my bed were condensed into a half basket - all ready to be sorted out and put into the correct places.
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I often dread the days that my cleaning lady is expected, as I can never be sure of when (or if) she will come. She is supposed to come here no earlier than lunch time. But sometimes, things are cut way too close for my comfort. Luckily, I was able to get her to limit her visits to either Thursdays or Fridays, as Thursday was my scheduled day to volunteer at the LGBT Center. This allowed me the security of knowing I could sleep late on the other days, and take "Jammie Days" whenever I need to take them.
You might ask, why do I keep this lady in my employ? The answer is simple - she is honest. The only thing I find missing in my apartment is garbage. Other people have to keep an eye on their cleaning ladies, as many have sticky fingers. I was lucky to have a friend refer this lady to me, and I still employ her over 20 years later on.
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This semester, Thursdays also have me attending speech therapy sessions. The two students are trying our new ideas every week. Last week, they gave me a carry over assignment eared to have me mimic the vocal and body language used in a couple of video clips. However, it's hard for me to do so, as I react very differently than the main characters in the clips. For example, I never would have reacted as Lucy would in her show - I'd have never knowingly let someone hold me down. But then, I am not a woman of the 1950's. And I am thankful for that.
Doing the carry over exercise this morning, I realized that my voice is a little lower than I would have wanted this morning. Is it because I am not exercising my upper range enough? I don't know. But as long as I can stay in the androgynous pitch range and continue developing feminine vocal inflections, I'll be happy where I'm going with my voice.
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I was very tired when I left the house, and thought my problem could be either one of two things: sleep deprivation or lack of food energy. So I decided to go to a Chinese Buffet near White Plains to have a bite to eat. However, the food didn't help much. Driving over to Mercy, I went through a construction zone, got distracted outside the zone, and hit a curb. Although I don't think I did any serious damage to the tire or rim, I will bring this incident up when I go to Mavis for my oil change and tire rotation- just to have a more learned eye look at things. Arriving at Mercy about 90 minutes early, I looked for a parking spot where I could rest for a while before going in for my session. Backing into a spot I found, I tapped the car behind me - something I rarely do. At that point, I knew that I needed to take a nap, and that's what I did for an hour or so.
This week's speech therapy session went well. But when I hear my voice, I feel I sound like a teenage boy whose voice hasn't cracked. A comment I made about my voice is that I find it easier to speak with feminine prosody when I speak with an accent - especially, a southern accent. They understand (even if they don't speak the language of cognitive psychology) that I have to overcome 62 years of male speech patterning and replace it with speech patterns appropriate for a 62 year old female.
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After the session, I drove home to relax and change into something more appropriate for a casual evening. A little more than 90 minutes later, I drove back to lower county to play games. For a change, I won a game of San Juan. Yay! But the next game, Dixit, was a losing effort. I couldn't get a clue, even if everything was explained to me as a child. Yet, I had fun, and that's the important thing.
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