I have come upon the best voice training tool that all transgirls should seize. It isn’t a self help CD, a YouTube video, classes or even surgery. No, this wonderful training tool is Rock Band.

I recently got bit by the Rock Band bug, but it’s only the other day that I finally went out and purchased the full deluxe system that includes a guitar, drums and microphone. (drums are hard!) But it’s while playing around with the microphone that I realized what a wonderful tool it is for voice training.

The microphone basically works by measuring the pitch of your voice which you can see as an arrow on the side that will climb or lower as you modify your range. Success in the song happens when you hit the right pitch level and sing (or make any noise for that matter) along with the lyrics.

If you do any research on feminizing your voice, you’ll find that it’s not the pitch you want to raise, but actually your resonance. Men and women actually have very little difference in pitch range. There’s a few lower registers that only men can hit, and a few upper ones that are privy to women, but for the most part, everyone hits the same pitch range. It’s the resonance that allows you to naturally alter your pitch but still have a feminine sounding voice. This comes from speaking less from your gut, and more from your face (if that makes sense). It’s like a muscle, not easy to do if you’ve never exercised, or even know where it is, but with practice anyone can do it.

How wonderful it would be if we had a tool to measure those ranges so we know when we’re outside the boundaries as we practice. Voila, Rock Band! While it doesn’t measure your resonance, it does ensure that you’re not just raising your pitch to get your voice more feminine. Spend enough time singing with Rock Band, and with the clear goal of getting a more feminine voice, and the pitch constraints will get you there faster and in a much more entertaining way.

Rock on.

Ashley

It’s  been nearly a month since I decided I needed to sell everything I owned and head to my parents in Saskatoon.  At the time it was nearly an act of desperation.  After the death of my kitty, my spiralling depression reached a dangerous point and I was self-aware enough to realize that something HAD to change or something bad WOULD happen.

It was difficult in the beginning.  I lost so much in the move, both having to leave it behind and having it come detached from the room on the highway never to be seen again.  I also felt defeated in a sense that I had to come crawling back to a city that I had escaped and seek refuge because I was not capable of looking after myself.  Fortunately I’m blessed with parents who care a great deal about me and are incredibly generous.  Without them I would be lost.

At this point I hardly feel “well.”  But I definitely feel like I made the right decision and that I am slowly recovering my mental health.  I’ve been attacking my film career with renewed vigour and have been actively working out a realistic plan to get there.  I’ve completed the writing of two short films, I’m self-educating myself to be proficient in digital visual effects.

With the added benefit of my new kitty friend who gives me so much needed love and affection, I am indeed feeling optimistic about the future and am trying to be proactive about making it happen.  This has been a difficult year for me to be sure.

In the immortal words of Tyler Durden, “It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything.”

Ashley

I’d like to introduce you to a new friend of mine.

This is Serenity – Mistress of Purrs, and yes, she very much lives up to her name.

The other day I found myself browsing a selection of cats available for adoption at PetSmart and almost immediately could not contain myself and broke down crying.  I’ve been suffering various instances of kitty grief since losing Mr. Meow-gi nearly a month ago.  I’ve thought that I’d seen him walk by out of the corner of my mind.  I’ve heard noises that I thought were his mews.  I’ve even hugged my parent’s dog and shut my eyes so I can pretend it is kitty.  These instances always end up reducing me to tears.  Then there is the incredible loneliness of not sharing my bed with anyone or anything.  It was quickly becoming clear to me – I needed another kitty in my life.

I always knew I would get another kitty, but I didn’t want to feel like I was replacing Meow-gi, so I knew a suitable grieving period had to be observed.  But I think it became obvious to me that NOT having a kitty was more painful than having one and that until I adopted a new friend, there would always be a large hole in my heart.

It didn’t take me long to pick her out.  I was instantly drawn to her and she reacted well to me.  I checked out all the other kitties available too, but eventually I came back to her.

I’m actually very amazed at how well she is adjusting.  She started exploring the house immediately and spent absolutely no time hiding out of fear from her new surroundings.  After only 4 hours of being in my life, she was jumping into my lap and curling up for restful purrs.  Even last night, the first night she’s spent with me, she spent the entire night snuggled up in my bed and I was able to wake in the morning to a cozy kitty.

She’s absolutely everything I wanted in a friend and I’m so happy she’s in my life.

Ashley

Recently a friend of mine let me know that she has a new girlfriend. It immediately upset me, and not because I have any romantic feelings for the girl in question, but rather just to see a girl find another girl so easily. I sit and wonder in the most painful ways, why it seems like such an impossible task for me. The worst part is I know the answers.

In my attempts at meeting women to date, I’ve actually encountered some of the most ridiculous questions I never thought I’d ever hear. Topping the list has got to be “do you ejaculate from your clitoris?” and “if we had sex, would I get pregnant?” Sure I’ll chalk it up to people just not having exposure to trans people and really not knowing, I’m cool with that. But there reaches a point where ignorant questioning crosses over into just-fucking-think-about-what-you’re-asking territory. The other byproduct of this is I get told I’m interesting, I’m attractive, I’m funny… and then I never hear from them again. Basically the novelty wears off and they go off in search of a “real” girl.

Not too long ago there was a girl I knew who had just come to the conclusion that she was completely gay. She came over to my place for some extended snuggling, told me how much she’s always cared about it, and then bam, two days later she has a new girlfriend. She cared about me sure, but only long enough for a genetic girl come along.

This all fits into this greater feeling that I’m allowed but never accepted. Like I got into the clubhouse that is a civilized society on a technicality, but that doesn’t mean I get to play. If I were into guys, it would be different. I don’t know how to describe it without being crass, but it’s just much easier to snag a guy. Not just with dating either. It’s an underlying axiom that seems to follow everywhere. It’s like being a person with a rare skin condition – people everywhere will be nice because they know they should be, but at the end of the day, you can tell they’re overcompensating and you’re really just an it.

The painful part is I was prepared to be a social outcast and rejected from the beginning, mostly because I already felt that way. What I didn’t count on was that once I was finally comfortable with myself as a woman, I would actually want to be accepted. It’s hard to have a good sense of self-worth when part of it is dependent on how the world treats you. You can say, “fuck you” to the world and pretend you don’t care all you want, but it’s impossible for it to not taint you.

Hard lessons and harder realities are never easy to swallow, but sometimes you have to face facts that the thing you want, like a loving relationship with another woman, is just not going to happen.

Being lonely sucks.

Ashley

In 2000, I had a very special friend come into my life. I picked him up from the SPCA after I deemed that yes, he was the one best suited for me. To be honest, at first I didn’t know if I was going to be able to keep him. He was incredibly anti-social and would attack me while I laid down. I suspect that he was abused and that was part of the reason he was at the SPCA to begin with. He did not come from a loving home. Instead of giving up on him, I decided to do the opposite and just continued to spend time with him, giving him cuddles and enduring his scratching. Eventually he came around and became a well adjusted member of the family.

I’ve been through a lot with this kitty. He’s traveled around with me and even watched me become a completely new person. If you have to transition, it’s wonderful to have such an adored friend in your life who will accept you unconditionally regardless of your gender or the state of your genitals. He followed me everywhere, always wanting to be nearby. When I would come home from work, he would be sitting at the door waiting to greet me. When I slept at night, he would stretch out beside me and snuggle in close. He had transformed from anti-social and mistrustful to loving and loyal. He was truly happy and secure with me and that makes me feel good.

He was getting on in years and I had been prepared for awhile that he wouldn’t be lasting much longer. I could see him winding down as age caught up with him. During our recent heat wave, I did my best to keep him cool. I had him closed off in my bedroom with an air conditioner on full blast. It was still too much for him though and his health took a turn for the worse. He stopped eating and drinking and just buried himself in the closet preparing to die. I made him as comfortable as possible and spent lots of time with him telling him how much I loved him. Fortunately he wasn’t in any pain and it seemed like it would be as humane a death as one can imagine possible. At 10AM this morning, he gave one last little whimper and finally left me.

People who have pets understand the significance their roles play in our lives and the hurt their deaths can bring. Regardless of the fact that he was just a cat, he always made sure I never slept alone, he always made sure I had a friend, and simply, there’s no way you can pour that much love into a living, feeling creature and not have it give love back in return. My kitty was the best friend I had who was there for me during the hardest times in my life.

I will never forget you, and I will always love you.

Love Ashley

I’d like to preface this post with a caveat that I’m not going to kill myself. But these are the emotions I’m going through and what I’m currently feeling. I’m not going to pretend it’s not true.

Reasons why I should kill myself:

• I’m suffering from debilitating social retardation. I’m literally at a loss to understand how it is other people get out in the world and make contacts and friends. The friends I have that aren’t online I can count on less than one hand.
• I’m all alone, and that’s not likely to change. Because of the aforementioned issue, I’m much more likely to find the Lost Ark than meet a partner. Throw into that the added mix that I’m a transsexual lesbian, and I might as well just resign myself to being alone for the rest of my life.
• The more I get into it, the more I realize I’ll never achieve my dream of making a movie. I didn’t spend the time in my youth getting into programs that would help get me a foot in the door. Yes, they are geared towards youth, many internships won’t accept people over 30. Trying to make one on my own guerilla style is a ludicrous notion because of point one. I would need friends willing to do massive favours to accomplish such a feat. It simply isn’t going to happen.
• I’m jobless and really have no amiable prospects, nor do I feel like I really have the mental capacity to find a job right now.
• I’ve become this pathetic recluse toiling away on creative projects that will never see the light of day and lost in the imagination that soon they will propel me into the career I’ve always dreamed of.
• I’m really never going to see my daughter again, and if I do, she’ll be so old that we’ll be strangers. There’s no practical reason for her to want to be part of my life, and that’s something I’ll never get back.
• I’m completely broke and can’t support myself. The end of the rope is getting closer.

Reasons why I shouldn’t kill myself:

• Apparently I have so much to live for…

Ashley

I just watched 3 Ghost in the Shell movies, 2 full 26 episode seasons and played through 2 video games on different consoles.

I hate being depressed and unemployed.

I am a failure as a human being.

If you’re actually bothering to read my blog, I’m sure your initial reaction is “no you’re not,” but it’s true. Regardless of whatever obstacles I’ve had to face, what excuses I want to use, what crutches I want to lean on, it doesn’t change a thing. The simple fact is I’m simply not leading the life that I want to. The even harder truth is that I’m not capable of leading the life I want to.

Today I went to a casual get together of screenwriters. For me the experience was an utter disaster. I wasn’t able to talk to a single person the whole time and eventually just left and went home. I’m not anti-social, I’m non-social. So here I am taking a long hard look at myself, wanting to fulfill my dreams of working in an industry that requires a high level of social networking and self promotion to achieve any modicum of success. Where do I fit in? I find myself trying not to cry as I try to find the courage to actually go to this thing. In fact the only reason I did go is I knew I would be even more depressed and upset with myself if I didn’t. And the results were… well… I may as well not have gone. The simple fact is I will not have a career in this industry. I am not that type of person. For this reason, I can’t stop crying.

I’m also having to admit that I have a genuine social phobia. This is why I spend day after day alone with only my aging cat to keep me company. This is why I can’t pick up the phone and instead let it go to voice mail and respond via email. This is why I am alone on a Saturday night, looking out at the balconies of other buildings and seeing people talking, laughing, having fun, interacting… and wondering why THAT seems like such an enigma to me. This is why I’ve been in Vancouver for 6 years now and can count the number of friends I have on one hand. As painful as all this is, it’s a sullen pain as opposed to the stabbing pain I feel from my failed attempts at human interaction. For this reason, I can’t stop crying.

I’ve always just conceded that I suffer from a terrible shyness, but I have to admit, it seems a lot more severe than that. I actually love the idea of an I Am Legend type scenario… being the last person alive on Earth. I seem to be most comfortable when I’m alone and not reminded of the fact that I’m not interacting with other people.

Those are the times I feel least like a failure as a human being.

Ashley