Back in England :(
After a long and tortuous trip I'm now back in England in one piece ... well, physically anyway.
I've left heart and my home in Olympia. I miss Miya and Sarah so much, I'm trying to put a strong face on things but inside I'm screaming. I've not been able to get more than a few hours sleep at any time, if I don't cry myself to sleep I wake racked with grief. I keep expecting to see them just walk in or when I look up from my laptop, and when I don't it breaks my heart.
I don't know how long I have to live in exile, I don't know when I will see them again and its killing me.
Following my encounter with Garcia when I first landed in the US, I was worried he had put stuff in my file that would make future trips much harder than they should be. On the way back my fears were realised. My checked luggage was searched at every airport in the US I passed through, seems the TSA have me on their lists. I'm terrified I will try to go back to the US and find I've been red flagged, get taken for an interview only to be turned away and flown home. All because I'm trans and Garcia doesn't like trans.
Being back in the village I grew up isn't comfortable for me. Went out to the pub for a meal to celebrate my Dad's birthday,feeling shattered and jet lagged I decided to walk home before everyone else. Big mistake. Walking the familiar streets home I felt more afraid for my own safety than I have in many years, more terrified than I have ever been at any time during my transition.
When I was a teenager I was beaten frequently for having long hair and looking girly, several times it happened as little as 50 metres from my front door. I remember being so scared that I wouldn't leave the house on foot, and walking home has brought all those memories flooding back.
I know most of the people responsible will have moved on years ago, I know I shouldn't be as afraid as I am, but I don't feel safe here out alone. Don't think I ever will.
Man Pants!
I love Conservapedia, dead-pan humor at its best. Take this essay about Women wearing pants.
The woman who pioneered women wearing pants was the actress Katharine Hepburn. She became rich and famous but never experienced a happy marriage and never knew the joy of having children. Her philosophy of life of being unfeminine resulted in her not fulfilling her purpose of life. We reap what we sow. There are consequences for actions. Women wearing pants is cross-dressing. It should be looked down on as much as men wearing dresses. The social experiment of feminism to destroy any sense of difference between male and female in the twentieth century has resulted in women wearing military camouflage fatigue pants and boots. The Bible says cross-dressing is an "abomination of God."
I'm so relieved I don't own a single pair of pants, but I can't help thinking about all the women who do. Please, donate your pants so they might be used to feed the homeless, save a whale or perhaps choke a passing conservative who actually believes this shit.
Garcia to Phoenix
Landing in Atlanta was bouncy on the way in, but there is nothing like the feeling when the plane stops on solid ground. The plane is running late but we have a few hours before our connecting flight.
The next two hours were probably the worst of my life. Because of the length of my visit without a visa (89 days, right up to the very limit) and not doing the usual tourist thing - my passport was placed in an orange folder and I was taken for an interview. There were about 20 people waiting for their entry to be cleared when I arrived, a single desk with two immigration officers and voices that carry.
An hour later my turn came up and I ended up with officer Garcia, who, having watched knew to be a slime ball. He wanted to know why I didnt have my return plane tickets (that you don't get till you check in on the day your're about to fly), what I was doing in the US, why I didn't have enough cash in my purse to last 3 months, who I was staying with and on and on and on.
He decided to rummage in my bag and look through all the photo's on my digital camera. Not good. I had foolishly not deleted all the pictures before I flew (some of which were VERY personal). He took the camera to the back room, ten mins later he invited a collegue to come in and have a look, ten mins later he came out still looking!
Decided to look through my laptop but thankfully I don't think computers were his thing.
Then he found my change of name documents and birth certificate and his attitude went from bad to downright sour. Eventully after a lot of typing he said..
"Against my better judgement and as its your first time here, I'm going to let you enter the US"
OMG - SInce when did entering the US depend on a clerc's better judgement!! I really hope all the shit he has typed on my file doesn't impact future visa requests.
I was in shock. I took my stuff and got out of there as quicly as I could to meet up with miya and Sarah. It felt like my world had just split in two and half of me was going back to the UK.
I never never never ever want to find my life in the hands of some random guy again.
The rest of the journey I was drained, on the flight to Phoenix was next to the emergency exit and it was drafty, spent the whole trip with miya curled up in my lap dozing. Next stop Arizona.
To be continued...