To Go In The Opposite Direction:

Fire drill: addendum #1

Did I say two days? I meant five days.

It is a known quantity that our customer database contains both structural flaws and a significant amount of bad data. We have another IT team working continuously on addressing these issues.

However, for a variety of reasons, it’s my team that tends to discover these problems. That’s exactly what happened this week; and it added another couple of days to the firefighting efforts.

I cannot express enough the tremendous frustration that comes with running into an obstacle of this nature. The are plenty of other industries in which a past decision can come back to haunt you; but the abstract nature of software development lends itself particularly well to ensuring these landmines are unnoticed until, of course, someone inevitably steps on one.

Orikan: *Rewinds time*

Trazyn: "...A single thread of fact within this tapestry of fiction you have woven."

Orikan: "BASTARD, BASTARD, BASTARD!"

"Stop laughing Trazyn, I have a Gf, she's just from another dynasty"

Recital

Eight weeks ago I had my first singing recital. As I have previously documented, I have been working uphill against the effects of a past cold; which have interfered heavily in my ability to sing. I then proceeding to catch yet another cold, which incited a flare-up of symptoms.

On the other side - I am, factually-speaking, a baritone; trying to sing like an alto. It's challenging in the extreme.

Every day of the week, any time the opportunity has presented itself, I've been practicing. I didn't feel confident per se; but I was a lot better of for doing so than where I started.

I was singing a version of "You Are My Sunshine", which is a song I learned from my spouse and one that holds great personal significance. There are three verses; the last of which contains a particularly high note. This had been the focus of much of my practice.

We arrived, my spouse and I, at the venue - a local church. My instructor was there to meet me, along with two teenage students - one obviously rather shy; the other bubbly. We did some warm-up exercises in a side room and wished each other good luck.

the student body of my music school is mostly kids; and so the recital was a fairly low-stakes affair - lots of beginners, stumbling along as best as they could. The audience of friends and family members were all very polite, and applauded each performer in turn.

Shy Girl acquitted herself well. Bubbly Girl rendered "Hallelujah"; spectacularly so. And then it was my turn.

There is anecdotal evidence suggesting that many MtF individuals experience issues processing their emotions; and that HRT resolves this problem.

This was certainly the case for me. An interesting offshoot of this is, in my prior life, I suffered little to no anxiety when it came to public speaking. The idea of stage fright was foreign to me.

I have spoken previously about a coming-out presentation I gave at my workplace. I did not mention how incredibly and uncharacteristically nervous I was at the time.

Likewise, I found my heart racing as I stepped onto the stage. I tried to slow my breathing, to no avail. My instructor began cued me in on the piano; and I began to sing. The first verse went well; the second was okay. The third, I hit the high note; but silently cursed as I forgot to breathe and effectively ran out of air moving into the next line.

The audience stared back, and there was a pause; and then they very politely clapped. It felt performative.

I returned to my seat, and tried desperately to hold back tears as the last few performers finished out their own pieces. The recital ended; we talked to my instructor for a few moments, and one of the staff told me "You did great!" on the way out.

We went home. I immediately went to the bedroom, closed the door, and sat in the void between the wall and bed that serves as my nest of safety. Despite my better judgement, I looked up the show's live stream and fast-forwarded to my song.

It was heartbreaking. My barrelled torso and broad shoulders were bursting out of my flower-pattern dress; my feet were planted far too firmly apart. I could hear the chest resonance in my voice and worst of all, the high note was wildly off-key.

I didn't see Lauren. I saw Lawrence.

I cried for an hour; big, heaving, sobs. And then I called my friend and talked to her for a while. It helped; but the damage was done.

There was a singing lesson scheduled the following week, with a very nice substitute. I explained that I wasn't able to sing, and played the piano instead. She was kind. Afterwards I spoke with the school's owner, and asked him to take down the recording of the show.

I'm glad that I participated in the recital. I am. I put myself out there for all the world to see, despite the overwhelming terror of doing so. I might not be the singer I want to be, and I might not pass to the extent I wish I did; but no-one can doubt my courage.

There is a positive coda in all of this. When I did chance to reconnect with my instructor again, she had a message to convey from bubbly girl. She wanted to ask the "Sunshine Girl" where she had found her beautiful dress.

Gardasil

During my last check-up, I got my first shot of the Gardasil HPV vaccine. The administering nurse did mention at the time that it would sting; and I say that she lied, it is only in the sense that the sensation was closer to what I would describe as a tremendously uncomfortable burning.

(I've accidentally achieved a similar effect when injecting my estradiol, by giving the alcohol I swab my skin with insufficient time to evaporate before inserting the needle.)

I did some research afterwards to see if there was an explanation as to why the vaccine had developed this reputation; the manufacturer indicated that the discomfort was the result of "Virus-like particles" in the vaccine content (which strikes me as a cop-out if ever there was one).

Today was my second shot; and playing a hunch, asked my nurse to try injecting the vaccine slowly. This was hardly a scientific test, but she kindly agreed and the injection experience was definitely more tolerable.

I am most certainly not medically trained; but I was instructed by my endocrinologist's office to administer my own estradiol and progesterone shots as slowly as possible. (My takeaway was that injecting a sizeable amount of fluid into a muscle at high speed causes unnecessary trauma to the surrounding tissue.)

Conversely, I've noticed that vaccine administration is usually done extremely quickly - I assume in part because the amount of fluid injected is much smaller; and also to minimize the length of the procedure. (You really don't want the patient to get restless and move while the needle is still inserted...)

It appears the Gardasil vaccine might utilize a larger amount of fluid; and a thicker medium, also. These things being true, I can see how rapidly injecting the stuff could be a lot more unpleasant versus most other vaccines.

So: if you're getting the shot for yourself, or for your loved ones - maybe ask the administrator to go slowly?

Joe

Once a week, I meet with my guitar instructor; and will usually arrive as he's finishing up with the previous student. The latter happens to be an incredibly sweet, cheerful, older fellow by the name of Joe; and I always enjoy our little interactions.

Today, Joe addressed me as "Young miss"; and while the accuracy of this statement might be disputed on both the first point (I wish I was still young!) and the second (in as much as I'm married), the sentiment was nonetheless greatly appreciated, and a highlight of my day!

Another night terror

I had another terror episode last night. As with the previous episode, it was quite absurd in nature. I am mixed on whether this signifies a dearth of creativity on the anxiety-driven part of my brain, or that it is now entering some kind of postmodern phase.

Initially I dreamt that I was in my bed; and that it was nighttime, but there was just enough light to cast shadows. These shadows were sufficiently menacing (and there was a distinct impression that they were trying to resolve into the shape of people) that it became imperative that I extinguish all sources of light.

Enter into this scenario: an aquarium-themed night light (the same one that had kept my daughter company during her infant days). Not only was this thing on full brightness, but it had cunningly placed itself on my wife’s side of the bed - just out of reach.

That’s when my brain pressed the Adrenaline Dump button and I screamed awake.

Here’s the part that confuses me: I wasn’t terrified by the possibility that the night light would bring these Shadow People into being; I was terrified of the night light itself. Now how the hell does that work, brain?!

It’s bad enough I have these episodes. Could they at least be something genuinely scary?

Unexpected HRT side-effect #9

I sometimes get asked by people that have to stare intently at my face (usually in some professional capacity):

“Your skin is so good! What’s your secret?”

And I tell them:

“Every two weeks I shoot my thigh full of the cool, sexier estrogen!”

As with a number of other effects, I knew that I could expect softer, better skin. However, I didn’t truly appreciate with any kind of granularity as to what that actually meant.

For one thing: I have no breakouts, no blemishes; I changed literally nothing about my diet or skincare routine, and suddenly my face is completely crystal-clear.

(The one exception to this seems to be immediately after I load up my progesterone; although even here, ‘blemish’ seems kind of a strong word for a series of nearly imperceptible bumps.)

For another: my pores have shrunk! This caused some issues in the first couple of weeks, as it effectively forced some of them to trap their contents; but that went away after a little over a month and it’s been plain, small-pored sailing ever since!

The one downside - and it really isn’t much of one - is this: I am actually allergic to cats (which is probably not a great trait in a cat owner); but have great tolerance providing said cats are not rubbing themselves on my face. Doing so would set off a reaction where my lips would tingle and I would break out in hives.

Since starting HRT, the time in which this reaction occurs has gone from many minutes after the initial contact to practically seconds. It really isn’t much of a problem (and truthfully, I’ll gladly accept hives as a consequence of cat affection); but it’s interesting to see how yet another tiny part of my life has been impacted by the simple expedient of transposing my hormone levels!

Dose two: addendum

I feel like I might have spoken too soon on my COVID vaccine side effects dying down; I’m now four days post-hoc and it feels like I still have some issues (muscle aches and swollen glands on the injection side; feverishness if I overexert myself).

It’s physically irritating, mentally debilitating, and it only fuels my anger more towards the sum group of people inflamed this situation for their own selfish reasons.

(I will also add: a couple of years ago, the spouse and I caught a very strange, persistent cold virus; the lymph nodes in my upper torso and neck flared up like nobody’s business and remained that way for almost eight to ten weeks.

It scared the hell out of me, as that kind of persistent swelling is generally associated with far worse ailments; and I was still in my passive ideation phase at the time and was pretty convinced that This Was It. Thankfully it went away on its own; but in retrospect, I’m realizing that this episode might be another unprocessed issue I now have to unpack and deal with.)

As weapon rules go, combi-weapons are one of the most intuitive:

“This is a boltgun* and a special weapon taped together. Each shooting phase, fire one or the other.”

I’m all for streamlining in 10th; but this seems like an unnecessary change.

My suspicion is that GW isn’t worried about rules bloat here; but rather, that the new datacard format would need five** weapon profiles to represent whatever combination of boltgun / meltagun / flamer / plasmagun / gravgun the model might be toting.

(As psychic powers are now effectively ‘weapons’ and also have their own profile, I can see why datacard real estate would be a concern.)

* Yes, there are non-Space Marine combi-weapons; but I’m extending the cited example.

** Six if we’re being pedantic and counting storm bolters as combi-bolters…

So, this is going to ruffle some feathers...

Combi-Weapons have been simplified to the point of no longer having variety.

It might just be for the Terminator Librarian, but that seems unlikely.

When people were bragging about codex creep being undone in 10E, did they consider that would include Imperial factions -including Marines?

Or did they just want everyone else to stop having strengths that were better than Marines?

In any case; it appears Combi-Weapons are now generic, just like Chaos Terminators' Accursed Weapons.

...

How do I feel about this? Hmmm... I dunno: 'salright I guess. Not that big of a deal. Wounding all Infantry of a 4+ and dishing out Mortals on a 6+ to wound isn't a bad deal.

It will make Chaos Terminators and their limited ranged weapon options a lot better. Just give them all Combi-Weapons for bulk Anti-Infantry 4+ and Devastating Wounds - could be nice.

Probably the worst part of this, will be for Orks. Kombi-Skorchas were a way to mitigate BS5+. Now they'll lose auto-hits? And will it be a mandatory -1 to hit? So BS6+ in 10E?

Even when Imperials are nerfed, Xenos get it worse off.

Bruises

Last night I got hit with the flashback stick, and spent most of what should have ostensibly been time in bed as time sleeping on the floor instead.

As a double whammy, I feel like both of my thighs are now bruised on the outside. This does not please me; not least of which because retreating to the floor has been a more common occurrence of late and that's bad enough without adding extra layers of physical discomfort on top of it...