Comforting

So yesterday before one of my classes, I run into the restroom in the arts and sciences building.  I pee a lot.  I’ve always wondered if that’s something I should mention to a doctor.  But whenever I am at a doctor’s office, I don’t think of it.  When I’m at school I usually end up using the bathroom before and after each class.  Over the time I’ve been here, I’ve picked out my favorite restrooms on campus.  I went into this particular one in the basement of the building, found a stall, sat down, and pulled out my cell phone to check a text message while I peed.

The dangers of having a penis!  When I had finished peeing, I put my phone away and looked down at the horrible accident that had happened.  I’ve peed sitting down for years, and I really don’t give much thought to it.  But accidentally my penis had been aimed up instead of down and none of the pee had gotten into the toilet.  My jeans and underwear were soaked.  I sat there in shock, looking at the situation and realizing there was no way to just clean it up.  I was literally going to be forced to pull of my wet clothes and walk out of there.  What else could I do?

There were a few places where it had actually pooled up in my jeans and I tried to dry that out, but when I got dressed I knew this was going to be humiliating.  It was gross to feel all wet and cold.  I walked out the bathroom quickly, trying to look inconspicuous.  I skipped the class and drove home to change.  No one made any comments or anything, but people had to have noticed. 

When I told my sister about it, she laughed at said that I had experienced the transgirl’s equivalent to a leaking pad or tampon, and that she’d been in similar humiliating situations herself.

Going back to the thing I wrote about Lauren in my last entry, I really was feeling guilty about how I reacted to her comment about being fat.  I ended up deciding to write her an email.  Not really to apologize because I figured a proper apology would just call attention to what had happened, and I figured it might be better not to specifically bring that up.  If I was over-reacting (and I realize that’s a possibility), it would be better not to make a bigger deal out of it than necessary.  Instead, I just wrote her a really positive email about what a great person I think she is and how happy I am that she is going to be part of the family.

Even though I meant every word, I felt a little silly writing it.  I was worried she might read it and think, "Why is she saying this?"  I wanted her to just think I was genuinely being nice, but I’m not normally the type to dish out compliments, and I thought it might be suspicious.

I guess I had no reason to worry because she responded with a long, heart-felt email about how nice I had made her feel and how happy she was that my family accepted her.  You could say a lot about my family, but we’re pretty open-minded and accepting, and no one is ever going to judge Lauren for her size.

I did almost feel bad for her about one thing she said in her email  She said she was having a hard time dealing with the fact that she had been gaining weight lately.  When she moved in with my sister, they had a bathroom scale that had a maximum of 350 pounds.  When they realized that wasn’t enough for her, they went out and bought a nice expensive digital scale that had a maximum of 400 pounds, and now she’s too heavy for that one.  She said in her email that the first time she stepped on that scale and got an error message, she burst into tears. 

Not really sure what comforting thing I can say about that.