Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Christmas Wrapping Up

Hah... puns.
This post courtesy of Bobby Leah on Flickr... I'll admit, I've been raiding Flickr and Wikipedia during this experience for random images to underscore the content of my posts. I thought this was oddly appropriate, even though I switched back over a week before Christmas. Having Christmas dinner with my family made me feel as self-conscious as I did when I first transformed.

I took the taxi down to Mom's on Christmas eve. It was expensive, but a lot safer than riding the train with a garbage bag full of wrapped Christmas presents. I got there just after 8, and when I came through the door, my mom was within eyeline, in the kitchen at the back of the house. She dropped some dishes in the sink and rushed over to me. She threw her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek, saying "I'm so glad to see you!" My mom's no ice queen, but she's rarely been that affectionate. But because the last time I saw her I had shed my penis, perhaps she was relieved I had come out of the experience alive and no worse for wear. In fact, I'd reset the entropy of my body about 7 days, so maybe I'll live a little longer.

The family... Mom, her boyfriend Tom, and my brother Ross, were already there, watching TBS' "24 Hours of a Christmas Story." Tom (whom I didn't see last time I visisted, for reasons unknown and uninteresting) averted his eyes, and Ross stood up, walked over, put his hand on my shoulder, and could barely contain his laughter as he said, "Heya sis, wanna go help mom with the dishes?"

The most annoying part about this is when he and I shared an apartment, I was always the one doing the dishes. I just swatted him away and called him an asshole.

The night proceded without major incident, but there was always that spectre hanging over my head. Mom is probably secretly wondering how much I experienced as a woman, embarrassed for both herself and for me. Ross has this to taunt me with, but I secretly think he admires my guts. Tom, well, I've always been awkward around Tom, so we didn't speak all night anyway. He's a pretty quiet guy anyway. It can be annoying. I went to bed a bit early, in my old room.

The next day was merry christmas. Some new computer software/hardware, some nifty CD's and DVD's, including some Demitri Martin. The rest of the family came over, Grandma, Aunt Rachel and Uncle Al, their kids, Sara and Robby. Some others. And it was over Christmas dinner that all the questions came out. They all knew what I'd been through, and they wanted the dirt. So began the interrogation.

Questions I was, for the most part, tired of going over. Mostly stuff I've addressed on the blog, some matters I can't even remember, and stuff I'd prefer to forget. I tried to brief them on what I experienced, but I was really tired of talking about it and besides, it had been a week and I could barely remember. That's the truth of it. There is what's in this blog, there are other thingsin more detail in my notepads, and some stuff I might never forget, but altogether I was female for one week of my life and my memory can't place most of it that's not written down, because physically, I no longer have frame of reference. I can barely remember what it feels like to have breasts and as time goes on, I'm sure the memory will keep fading. That's just the truth of it.

Hence, my awkwardness over Christmas dinner. When Aunt Rachel (who is only a handful of years older than me,) actually asked me if I thought sex would be better as a woman or a man, I nearly coughed up a lung in the midst of a mouthful of turkey. Read Tiresias, okay Aunt Rachel?

(The truth is, I almost stopped answering altogether and directed them to this blog, but then I remembered my little business with Declan and decided that would only create more stress.)

Finally the chaos settled down, we relaxed over some trifle for dessert, said our last Merry Christmases and started to leave very slowly. Ross was the only one left with mom and Tom. As I gathered up my haul and slid on my jacket, I kissed mom goodbye, and Ross just shook my hand and told me "Y'know buddy, you're some piece of work." He'd had a bit of hard Egg Nog. "But you're all right, no matter who you are."

I laughed, said goodbye, and headed for the train station.

When I got home, there we two messages on my machine. One was Diana, asking if I was up for anything tomorrow (Of course I am!) and the other... well, I'm not really comfortable saying right yet, so I'll leave it until I really have to address it. Let me just say it certainly is relevant.

Goodnight everyone
-Alex M.

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