Saturday, December 31, 2011

New Year's Resolution

This is probably going to be my shortest New Year's Resolution List of my life.


Because how could I possibly top this year?

I came out to my biological family, who disowned me, but I gained the awesomest family in the world.

I'm living my life as the gay man I was always supposed to be.

I got engaged to Daniel.

I moved.

I'm a published author.

I'm a bestselling published author.

I'm writing a 100K word novel.

I'm about to get my name changed.

So I only have six things I want to do next year.

  1. I will publish at least 6 books by the end of the year.
  2. I will marry Daniel (b/c my life will just be 100 times better when I put that wedding band on his finger)
  3. I will get in shape (b/c oh my gosh if I get told that I'm "technically" 2 lbs overweight I'm going to scream)
  4. I will go back to school for business, so that I can get the process started for my group home for at-risk teens.
  5. I will get my name changed legally (I'm going to scream the day that happens).
  6. I will become the best version of myself that I can be. The best writer. The best younger brother. The best older brother. The best uncle. The best son. The best husband. The best future dad in the world.

Anything else is just extra, but I'm resolving that at the end of 2012 I'll be telling you that I have accomplished all six of those things.

It's going to happen.

I hope you all have a great New Year's and that all of your resolutions are attainable and that this upcoming year is the greatest one you've ever had and that it only improves for you.

To love, to life, to family, to growth, to healing, to understanding, to compassion, to tolerance, to faith, to peace...

To hope.

Hugz, Squeezes and Fist Bumpz.

Happy New Year's All!!

-Vicktor Aleksandr B.

P.S. Daniel baby, you're perfect for me, even if you're not "perfect" yourself. You make me long to be a better man, the best man, for you. I love waking up and knowing that I have you to look forward to. Je t'aime mon amour. Te amo mucho. Te quiero. Tu es mi corazon. Lovdorish you Dangelina. Love Always, Forever, Together, and Never-Ending. Your BradVic

Thursday, December 29, 2011

On The Verge of a Burnout

I can always tell when I'm about to crash for about 18 hours.

I can usually go on 4-6 hours every night for months and be totally fine.

But as I get closer and closer to that inevitable moment when my body tells me that it's effing tired and it wants some real sleep, I get crankier.

I get headaches. I can't focus. And everyone starts to piss me off.


Children. Friends. Family.

But I'm so good about not letting people know when they're annoying me that no one ever knows this about me...until now of course.

But I become so tired, so physically drained and I'm like a baby, totally fighting this long ass sleep that I know is inevitable, that I'm just testy.

I'm testy, possessive, jealous, easily annoyed and easily the most sensitive person in the world.

Just like a baby.

When I'm about to crash I want my blue blanket that was given to me by a friend of my birth mother, one of the only people who used to always tell me that if I needed to get away that I should. I want my teddy bear, my pillow and I want to be left alone.

So I know that I'm on the verge of a burnout. The dull, throbbing headache has already started. And yeah, I know that I should probably just sleep now and get the 8 hours or whatever now, but it doesn't work like that, because I stay up late to have my alone time. I stay up late so that I can write or draw or meditate or read or do whatever, when the rest of the house, the building, the city is sleeping. It's the time when the fiance is asleep or about to wake up, when the Nieceling is asleep and so is the big sister. The hours of 10pm-4am are my six hours of uninterrupted work/reading/Vic time.

I don't want to lose that. I need that time otherwise I will lose it.

I'm a loner both by nature and by circumstance. I know that I seem very friendly, outgoing, personable...and for the most part I am, but there are two sides to this Vic coin and one side of that is "go away, leave me alone and let me reconnect with me."

So those six hours are precious to me.

And I know that when Daniel and I get married and are living together that those hours may get cut down a bit and for the most part, I'm fine with that...but it's also one of the reasons why I am trying to stock up on "Vic time" right now.

So knowing that I'm on the verge of a burnout has done nothing but make me more determined to get as much done as possible. I'm pushing harder in my writing, in trying to get stuff done. Working on my website ( I am trying very hard to not yell out and tell everyone to just leave me alone so I can get shit done before I have my major burnout.

Because contrary to what has been said about me recently. I am a nice person.

So I'm letting you all know that the burnout is coming. That moment when my body just stops and says "Aye, yo, Vic. We're all going on vacation so...yeah, you might as well sleep."

It's very close. Very, very close. And when it happens you won't hear from me for a while.

Because I'll be too busy sleeping.

But once I get my sleep and I've rested and am rejuvenated?

I'll be back. And we'll start this whole lovely cycle again.

Dear Justin

Dear Justin,

Did you know I got through yesterday without breaking down?

I didn't have a massive freakout.

I didn't break down in the middle of my therapy session and rage at the heavens that my best friend had been taken away from me because of AIDS and stupidity.

But today....the day after the 1year anniversary of your I feel like I'm walking through a cloud. A haze.

I just realized that you were probably behind that nightmare that I had last night. You never were subtle about reminding me of what my true purpose is on this earth: Honey, you were created to clean up all the bullshit that everyone else puts out there. You're going to save the world. That's why you're here. It's your main purpose.

Thank you for reminding me. Thank you for loving me when you were alive. Thank you for loving me from beyond the grave. Thank you for leading me to Daniel, because I totally think that you and Christopher had something to do with that.

Thank you for being my friend. For being the unrequited love of my life (See? If you had only waited, I would have figured it out and been the gay man you always wanted me to be. But then I wouldn't have Daniel...does it make me selfish that I'm glad to have him?).

Thank you for telling me to make sure that I tell your story. Your story has changed lives. Saved lives. People are getting tested after reading about you. People are staying healthy. And because of you, I'll never stop talking about the horror of AIDS, of not being safe, of not being tested.

Because of you, I remembered why I'm here.

I'm going to save the world. Thank you my friend. I miss you and love you every day, but I know that you're looking down on me from above.

Save me a seat? Preferably next to Frank Sinatra....

Love You Always and Forever,

Vicktor Alesandr B.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Love Across The Big Pond #4: The Effects of Kissing

Dear Daniel,

Have you noticed more people kissing around you? I never noticed it before but suddenly on every tv show, every movie, every couple in the world is around me and they're all kissing. They're all holding hands and loving on each other and I'm looking at them and wishing that it was us. Wishing that you were in my arms, that you were kissing me or I was kissing you. That it was someone else watching us kissing and wishing that they were us.

Seeing others kiss makes the waiting harder. It's not seeing them holding hands, or watching them walk together with their arms around each other. It's seeing them kiss. Because when they kiss, I want to kiss you, and when I look over you're not there.

So, love, don't be surprised if I want to spend the first hour or so doing nothing but kissing you, because we've got a lot of kissing to make up for and a lot of kissing to look forward to.

Lovdorish You.



Monday, December 26, 2011

Self-Preservation: Running Away to Hide

I'm going into hiding.


It's a matter of self-preservation.

As fucked up as it sounds, too much good stuff has happened to me.

I've got three moms, nine sisters, three aunts, five brothers, two cousins, an awesome Nieceling, nephrews and a dad.

All of whom support and encourage me. All of whom love me.


Then there's Daniel, the fiance'.

A man who only sees me. He only sees Vic and it's refreshing and amazing and every time I think of him or talk to him, I can't stop smiling. He loves me and supports me, makes me laugh, and is one of the biggest reasons why I keep pushing forward, keep breathing, and why I've started singing again.

And then there's my writing.

Many of you were here when I started writing Unthinkable. You pestered me about writing more, you encouraged me, you asked me about the characters, you pointed out things to me. Thorny was the one who told me that I should make writing my new career and while his presence in the book was not widely appreciated by all, when someone saves your life twice, you thank them, very publicly. Suzi, who was determined to have me keep writing until the book was finished and equally determined for me to write Tommy's story, gave me the push that I needed to keep going. Kat, Luci, Lucy/Kat, CJ, Matt, Brad and Becky who were always my cheerleaders in the background were, a lot of times, my audience.

So when I decided to self-pub Unthinkable, I did it for you all. Then people started buying it. Then people started buying Inconceivable, and this thing, this impossible dream that I'd had for myself, this goal that you all told me to reach for, was right there. I was a writer. I was an author, and I absolutely couldn't believe it.

Then I started meeting other authors and then on Goodreads I started getting "fans" and then more and more people were adding my book to their TBR list. Then one of my big sisters, Cherie, told me about my book going up on ARe (All Romance Ebooks) and I did and within 24 hours, I'd sold more than I had any other time. Then days went by and I saw that Unthinkable and Inconceivable were shooting up into the hundreds and all of this time I'm writing A Very Tate Christmas, sort of secretly, because I wanted to surprise all of you. And that's when I got the IM from Daniel:

":O Your book Unthinkable is #9 on the ARe Bestseller list."

To be honest, I thought maybe he was reading it wrong. I was already shocked that it had gotten bestseller status in certain genres but he was making it seem as if it was the main list. I mentioned it to Cherie, who wisely went to look it up, knowing that I wouldn't do it. When she told me it was true, I was expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me that I'd been "Punk'd" by the very people that were hating on me just months ago.

But Ashton never appeared and my big sis Tay-Tay told me to enjoy my way to the top.

I thought that she was just being her usual loving, big sister self. Because my big sisters are awesome and they love their "baby bro," and I thought she was just being encouraging.

Cherie told me that my book would keep rising.

In my head I thought she was full of shit.

Why were people buying my stuff? This story that I'd written for my online blog friends and online blog family. Why were they interested in these shape shifting cowboys and their mates? I was floored and so overwhelmed that I went to bed before 4am this morning and still woke up at 8.

I only do that when I'm sick or I'm crashing.

So when I woke up and saw a "Wow. Congratz Vic! "Unthinkable" is now #5 on the ARe Bestseller List." I knew then that I needed to go into hiding. Not from writing, but to get my head around the fact that people actually want to read my stuff. That they want to actually buy my stuff and read it.

These same people turn around and buy Inconceivable and find me on GR, Facebook, Twitter, email me and tell me how much they liked or loved my books. And I am floored. I am shocked, amazed and so overwhelmed with gratitude and amazement that I have to go hide myself somewhere, be alone and wrap my head around the fact that good things are happening to me.

That good things keep happening to me.

That I didn't come out and then my world was destroyed.

But that I came out. Admitted the truth that I'd been fighting since I was a kid. Stood up for me, something I don't think I've ever done. Told those in my life to (in the words of Mary J. Blige) "Take me as I am or have nothing at all." I moved. I left the comfort and safety of conforming, of denying and repressing, and I stepped out into the light of truth and acceptance and support  and encouragement and oh-my-gosh-is-this-happiness and found out how beautiful it is.

I began healing. I kept writing. I gained more friends, more family, found the love of my life, my soul's mate and kept writing. And wow, people keep buying.

I am amazed. I am overwhelmed. I am so unbelievably grateful. You all who have stuck with me through it all. You all that have joined "The Vickster" maybe a little later on down the tracks but you're on this ride, holding on just as tight as those who were here at the beginning. Even those of you who threw rocks and paint and bombs, grenades, shot bullets at "The Vickster" and never apologized when you saw that your assault was in an area that had already been assaulted or even those of you who assaulted "The Vickster" and continue to keep assaulting "The Vickster," I am thankful to all of you. Because of you, I'm here. I'm stronger. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life.

So, yes, as a matter of self-preservation so I don't "self-sabotage" myself, as I've been known to do when good things start happening, I'm going to go and hide in my Purple Fantasy Den and regroup and then come out (LOL-or rather return) and still be myself.

And keep writing.

So thank you all. Your support is invaluable to me.


Vicktor Aleksandr B.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Love Across The Big Pond: The Adventures of BradVic and Dangelina #3

Here's my 2nd letter to Daniel. Okay, it's not technically my second letter, but it's the second one I wrote with this title. And even though I scoffed at people who said it was a good idea at first, it has helped a little bit.

Dear Daniel (or Dangelina-which you know I love calling you that):

Do you know what I did after you went to bed last night? I started thinking about next year. This is our first Christmas "together," the first time we're celebrating your birthday "together" but still apart. I'm happy you're here, that you're in my life, so happy that I have you, but that damn ocean that's separating us? Well, it's starting to piss me off.

So I've decided to wage a war against the ocean and do all I can to make sure that next year? Before it gets close to the holidays, you are here with me where you belong. In my arms, in my bed. Wearing my ring.

I love you baby.

Love Always,

Vic (BradVic)

The Purple Fantasy Den: Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah and Season's Greet...

The Purple Fantasy Den: Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah and Season's Greet...: Here's hoping that you and your family, whether biological, adopted, viral or imagined all have a wonderful Christmas, Chanukah (that's Hanu...

Friday, December 23, 2011

Love Across The Big Pond: The Adventures of BradVic and Dangelina #2

Here's the link to Dangelina's (Daniel's) 1st post:

Tales from the Writing Cave: Fabulous Friday with the AhMahZing Daniel Kaine

Tales from the Writing Cave: Fabulous Friday with the AhMahZing Daniel Kaine: Okay, babies, here's the dealio... Today I have the first installment of a series of interviews with hot new talent, Daniel Kaine, aka Dange...

Love Across The Big Pond: The Adventures of BradVic and Dangelina

Wasn't that an awesome title? I think so.

So the babez's birthday is Saturday, December 24th and I am UBER excited because hopefully he'll get the presents that I sent him before then. There are two very special items that he's going to get from me.

*devious grin*

So anyway, trying to maintain a long-distance relationship is hard.

And no, not like hard like an erection is hard, *shakes head and scoffs* bunch of pervs, but hard as in difficult.

Not because I don't love him, because oh man do I, but because if he's having a bad day I can't just pull him into my lap and hold him like I want to and if someone fucks with him I can't just go and "give them a stern talking to" (which we all know is "Vic speak" for kick their asses), and if I'm feeling particularly...amorous, I can't just pounce on him like I want to. Which sucks.

So I decided to do something about it. And I talked to him about it, but at the time I was joking, but every day, after he goes to bed, I write him a letter. They're always titled the same way "Love Across the Big Pond", but they help me.

They help in those times when I dream about him and wake up and he's not there beside me. They help when I want to send him a text message but know that I will get the "Failed to Send" because he has an international number. They help when I'm all turned on from watching "Queer as Folk" and can't even make out with him.

They help in those times when I miss him even though I'm talking to him.

And even though I'm all "Dom-ish" and "fierce" I'm still very much a romantic at heart, which is why I write M/M romance (and I've been told my stuff is cheesy, but a good cheesy), and for that reason while my words come from my heart they are oftentimes more about the "emotion" than the "feeling."

So I thought I'd share the first letter that I wrote to Daniel. I'm warning you now. It's short and sappy, but I'm having a slight "pity party" where I'm all like "I miss my fiance and I want him here with me and no one is going to make me feel better about this," so I know that for me, posting this letter will make me feel better and really that's all that matters.

"Love Across the Big Pond" 

Entry #1:

Dear Daniel. 

It snowed today. Not a lot, but enough to make me wish that my arms were wrapped around you. Enough to make me wish that you were waking up next to me, asking me what I was smiling at. And it snowed long enough to make my heart ache to have you here with me. I know that March is not that far away, but any second that I have to spend away from you feels like an eternity. My heart and my soul are yearning for their other halves. I only take shallow breaths because you are my full breath. Know that you are truly loved and that I truly cannot wait until the day that I hold you in my arms forever. Love Always, Vicktor

-Vicktor Aleksandr

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The Purple Fantasy Den: ARe Bestseller??!!

The Purple Fantasy Den: ARe Bestseller??!!: This is Vic. See Vic write. See Vic publish his writing. See Vic applaud when his books are put on ARe. See Vic scream like a teena...

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Marrying an Alien

Do you know how many forms there are that you have to fill out when you're engaged to be married to someone who is not a citizen of the United States of America and you're an American citizen?

A lot.

Do you know how much money it costs to get forms processed and approved?

A lot.

Do you know how long it takes to get everything processed and approved?

A long, fucking time.

It almost makes you question if it's really worth it.

Then, if you're anything like me, you think about the sound of the other person's voice and the way it makes you feel, how just a word from them fills your entire body with joy and happiness. You think about how devastated you'd feel if that person wasn't in your life any longer and you see a blog post like this:

And you remember how completely, over the moon, in love with this person you are and you realize that you'd fill out forms the size of fucking "War and Peace" as long as you knew that in a few months you'd be holding that person in your arms when you woke up in the morning, as long as you knew that one day you'd be putting your ring on that person's finger, as long as you knew that one day, and one day soon, the whole world would know who that person was to you, that they were yours and that you belonged to them.

And if you're like me you'd know that even with all the forms, fees, interviews, waiting, temporary citizenships, visas, waivers, traveling, airports, airplane, tickets, flights, hotel rooms, rental cars, marrying an alien, for me, marrying my beautiful British alien (who insists on calling Americans silly for our phrases and terms) is 100% totally and completely worth it.

-Vicktor Aleksandr

Thursday, December 15, 2011

2 Boys in Love: Does That Make Us a Little Bit Gay?

2 Boys in Love: Does That Make Us a Little Bit Gay?: Hehehe! Thank you, Carnell, for sending us this. This is a short sketch from MADtv and if you want to laugh like you've never laughed, watch...

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

I'm Engaged Bitches!!!

Just thought that I'd let those of you know who maybe don't have my Facebook and/or Twitter account or maybe aren't a member of the Rainbow Writers & Readers group on Goodreads something that I already shared with them:

I proposed to Daniel A. Kaine (yes, the author of "Dawn of Darkness") and he said:


He hasn't told me when we're getting married yet (although if I had my way, when he gets off the plane in March I'd be marching him over to a church to get married right then), but when I know something I will let you know so you can all celebrate with us.

So yeah, I'm engaged now bitches!!! (And I say that in the sweetest way possible)

Monday, December 12, 2011

My Christmas List

Dear Santa,

I know that I'm 28 and really I shouldn't be writing you a Christmas list, but seeing as how I stopped writing you when I was 4, I figure I'm due a few letters.

My list isn't long or the items on it too difficult to get, but if you could get them all here by Christmas Day, I'd appreciate it, especially since I celebrate Hanukkah as well and I'm giving you five extra days to get this stuff together.

1. I'd really like a Kindle Fire. And yes, I know that my other Kindle "mysteriously broke." But I promise to take better care of this one.
2. I'd really love to spend Christmas with Daniel, so if you could get him here or me there, that would be awesome.
3. I want the biologicals to have a good Christmas. They may be sucky to me, but they still deserve a happy Christmas.
4. I want my biological little brother to be able to come home for Christmas or to see his son for Christmas. It'd be great if you could give him both.
5. I want Cherie and the Nieceling to have an awesome Christmas. I could never thank them enough for what they did for me, but if you could give them an awesome Christmas that would rock.
6. I want everyone in my new family to have an amazing Christmas. Filled with love and good food, and laughter and joy and singing. They are some of the greatest people I know and they only deserve great things.
7. I'd really love it if you could help all of the homeless teens out there find a way to a shelter so that they can eat and maybe even find a place to sleep.
8. Is it wrong that I want Rick Perry and the transphobic doctor to get boils on their ass? It is isn't it. So I'll use this number to instead ask for justice around the world and that maybe for one day, people will love instead of hate, be compassionate instead of judgmental and not stick their collective foot in their idiotic mouth.
9. Will you please let it snow here in Buffalo. I've been signing "White Christmas" since I was a kid, I'd love it if I could have it.
10. As you know, the ex-boyfriend burned and ruined all of my "tools and toys." So if you could give me back a black duffle filled with all of the BDSM, strap-ons, binders, packers, shoes, condoms, clothes and lube that he destroyed, that would be awesome.
11. And finally, I'd love it if you could help me stop waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. I know I'm surrounded by love and support but I keep waiting for it to all be snatched away, maybe you can give me a sign that I am truly loved and no one's going to let the fact that I'm black, transgender, not the most gorgeous thing in the world, gay, and a sometimes practicing Messianic Jew, stop them from loving me. I think giving me one of the items on this list would be a very good start.

Thank you so much Santa. And next year, I promise my list will only have 3 items on there.

Okay, maybe 4.


Vicktor Aleksandr B

Friday, December 9, 2011


(It's been a while since I've written a poem, because they never flow easily, they never rhyme and my teachers always hated them...all except one. Dr. Thompson told me that my poetry was like watching me perform open heart surgery right in front of her. Seeing, smelling and watching the blood flow from my chest and then watching me stitch myself back up and continue living. It was graphic, but she was a literature professor.
All I know is that I put my thoughts to paper, or to screen as I've done here. It's usually one thought, one line, one word, one picture that grips me and propels me forward. This time I got all four. 

One thought: I can't see us ending

One line: I imagine my future and he's always there

One word: You

One picture: His

And from that, this.....poem...this long, drawn out thought arose and bombarded me and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, so I did. Enjoy!)


At the beginning of every relationship I've had
I've seen the ending of them
I've seen that moment when they're no longer in my life
And I've seen myself smiling and happy without them
But from the moment I confessed my feelings for you
Things have been totally different
I can't see our ending
That moment when you're no longer around
I imagine my future and you're always there
I think about myself in 5 years, 10 years, 30 or more
And always I see your face.

I thought that my soul mate had left this world and me behind
Left to wander and grasp at scraps of emotion and feeling
In my despair I never thought to breathe refreshing air again
I thought that my heart remained in my chest, but no longer beat
I imagined myself as a broken shell of a human being
No warmth, no life, nothing but vapor

But then I met you.

And like a tidal wave of air you rushed into my life
And I took my first gulping breath of air
And I could feel the prickling sensations of life returning to my body
I could feel the grief again, the fear, the anger, the sadness
I could feel the hope, the longing, the yearning, the happiness
I could feel love again
True love
The kind that doesn't play by society's rules but makes its own
The kind that knocks those affected by it on their asses and laughs
The kind that people write about
The kind that people sing about
The kind that seems to last

And I felt the fear that I was feeling this
Something so much stronger than I'd ever felt before
I felt the yearning and the longing, the hope that you felt the same
I felt my limbs trembling with the desire to claim you as my own
To discover the broken places and heal them, to make the strong places stronger
To protect and strengthen the weak places
To fit our pieces together

Because that's what you do to me
Your pieces, fit my pieces
Your strengths are my weaknesses and your weaknesses are my strengths
I want to become better because of you
I want to conquer the world and lay it at your feet
I want to discover new worlds and claim them in your name
I want to save the world so that it's safe for you.

I want a future
With you.

I want to dream
With you.

I want to live
With you.

I want to laugh
With you.

I want to cry
With you.

I want to be
With you.

I want to love

-Vicktor Aleksandr

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Why My Children Will Not Be Watching Winnie the Pooh

Dear Dr. Transphobic Asshole

This is a portion of the letter that I wrote to my Transgender/LGBTQ/AIDS Advocate/Social Worker at the end of this post is the letter that I'm considering sending to the Transphobic Asshole Doctor named "Tara":

So, today I went up to the VA Emergency Department for my knee. I knew that I had probably twisted it or done some damage to it over the weekend and at Cherie's insistence I went to the ER, two hours before my appointment with Brandi. When I arrived I made sure that they knew that I had a previously scheduled appointment and they said that they'd make sure that I got to my appointment on time. So I was called back to the hospital room and put inside. An hour later (about 30 minutes before my appointment with Brandi) I was still waiting in the room. No one had been by to check on me or even to stick their head in the door. This wasn't too shocking as the VA oftentimes will stick a patient who isn't critical in a room and leave them there for over an hour, but I thought that they would take quicker care of me, seeing as how they knew of my other appointment.

Anyway, I eventually got up and hobbled up to the front desk and informed the receptionist there that I had another appointment that I had to get to and that I would be back, when it was over but that I absolutely could not miss my appointment. He asked me to wait a few minutes for the charge nurse to show up and I agreed. No sooner did our conversation end when I heard my name being said by one of the doctors, my legal name, the one that it's in the system but also has a notation in the field that states that I am to be called: Vicktor or Vic.

I figure it will be quicker for me to just put it in dialogue form the conversation with Doctor Tara, the doctor mentioned above, and her colleague.

Dr. Tara: I'm supposed to see somebody named...Veronica. Why the hell does it say Vic in here?
Colleague: Oh yeah, I saw her last week. Her legal name is Veronica, but she goes by Vic and everyone calls her Vic.
Dr. Tara: Why?
Colleague: Because she's transgender, so I guess she's a he. So his name is Vic, that's what we call him.
Dr. Tara: Oh no! Are you serious? I've got one of them?
Colleague: (blushing slightly because he saw me) I just saw Vic last week for...chest pains, right Vic?
Me: Yeah.

Dr. Tara looked at me and gave me a look of disgust and that's when I told her that I had another appointment to be at and that I had to leave but that I would be back after that.

She informed me that she'd rather see me first and then then have me get sent down for X-Rays and then for me to go to see Brandi. I had no problem with this and agreed. So Dr. Tara led me back to the very room I'd just left out of and asked me what had happened to my knee, I explained it to her and then when we got in the room, I wasn't told to sit down or anything so I could be examined properly, I was asked to roll up my pants leg and my knee was barely touched by her before she went to the sink and scrubbed her hands furiously as she explained that it didn't feel swollen but that she would call for an X-ray. Now, I don't know if she knows something I don't and being transgender is actually contagious, I'm not sure why she felt she had to scrub her hands so hard, but I do know that I felt beyond offended at her actions. 

I wish I could tell you that the story ended there, but it didn't.

When I went in to go get my X-Ray (which I had to walk to-on my bad knee which is also on the same leg as my sprained ankle) the X-Ray tech there (whose name is Zach I believe) didn't even have mypaperwork, he had someone else's, because while they'd sent me down there, they hadn't given him the right information about who I was, what name I'm supposed to be called, questions to avoid asking me and even  which knee was the injured one. So when Zach finished with me he told me that he had to take me back to the ER, now I'd been told that when I finished in the ER I was supposed to go straight to my appt, Zach had been told to bring me back there. So he led me in and I brought up that he'd told me to come back in. With a sigh of disgust and a huge amount of attitude Dr. Tara said, "No, I told you to go straight to your appointment."

So I went.

When my appt was over I returned to the ER to get the results of my X-Ray (which I knew that if they wanted an accurate diagnosis of what was wrong with my knee that I should've had a MRI done, especially since I'd informed Dr. Tara that I'd torn my miniscus tendon in this same knee ten years before and had never had the surgery for it done. I walked into the ER, filled out the paperwork to let them know I was back for my results and sat and waited. I'd come in at about 12:10, by 1:00pm, my sister Cherie was livid, because I was supposed to have taken the DAV (the transportation for veterans, which is who had brought me in and with whom I was supposed to have take me home) home, but I'd missed them and it was too late. My name was still never called. By this point my knee is throbbing, I'm annoyed, Cherie is annoyed and I've told her about the doctor's initial reaction to me and she's already put in a few calls to people. Carissa, the OIF (Operation Iraqi Freedom) worker assigned to me, has come down to the ER to check on me, it's now 1:30pm. She tells me about the phone call for Cherie, that she's going to try and get me home, that she was sorry for all that I'd endured, etc., etc., etc. Then she says that she's going to go and check and see what the problem is. As soon as she steps into the back and asks a question, Dr. Tara comes in and says she doesn't know why they didn't come and get her, that they'd gotten my X-Ray results two hours before. She tells me that the X-Rays came back fine and so I probably just twisted it and she's going to go and get me a brace. I go to follow her so she can put it on and she tells me to wait at the door. She comes back with two braces. One she says is a medium, the other she says is a large. She looks at my knee and, again, barely touches it as she tries to see which size will fit me, she tells me I need a large and that I'd have to "take all that off" (and gestures at my pants and the bottom half of my body with a sneer on her face) and that she'll just give me the brace so I can put it on. And then she practically shoves the brace in a bag that says it's a "large", but as we found out later was actually a "medium" in a large bag, and rushes off as if the hounds of hell were on her behind.

M, man, honestly, had I known that transgenderism was contagious, I would've worn a mask or something.

I did report her to the Patient's Advocate and Michele apologized to me on behalf of the hospital and said that the doctor would be given a "stern talking to," but honestly, even though the military is far more progressive today than it was when I was in there, even though DADT has been repealed, even though this hospital and this VA is a ton more accepting than the one I came from in Florida, I still know that they'll talk to her so that it can be put in her file, but that there are some people who would be silently applauding her for treating the "tranny" like she did.a

I am not typically a blood-thirsty, you made me mad and almost made me cry and now you must lose your job, type of person, but I told Cherie that I want Dr. Tara to lose her job. I'm already having to attend the "Mental Health" department just because I am trans and I grew up in the household/family that I did and trying to balance my truth with their angry voice. And I'm there because of my disabilities and how that affects me not being able to find a job that's understanding with my injuries. So with having this............................."doctor" treat me the way she did? Cherie had to put a call in to Brandi and let her know.

That was moments before we found out that the brace given to me or rather shoved at me, was the wrong size.

Cherie is going down to the VA tomorrow to have it out with them and get me a new brace, but she suggested that I tell you to see if you had any ideas about what else, if anything, I should do. She wants to contact the local LGBTQ chapter, the HRC chapter (she even teased about contacting the news station) and like I said, honestly, I'm not usually the one out for blood like this, but what if I'd been a fragile teenager? What if I was already suicidal and she said that?

I want her suspended or fired. I want a true apology. I feel vindicated, like she truly leaned her lesson and would never do that again.

So any thoughts?

Dear Dr. Transphobic Asshole:

I'm sorry that you're being chewed out by your boss.

And the Patient Advocate people.

And my sister Cherie, I'm sure that's the scariest moment in the world for you.

But you should be happy. My dad is way more scarier. And my older siblings are very protective of me.

You know you were wrong and that you must pay. I won't ask for your life as payment, because I do want to live again, but, I want your job.

Because if we'd had that situation a few months ago, if you had reacted in August, in October the way you reacted today, our little "misunderstanding" then I would have tried to kill myself.

You have to understand that words and reactions carry weight and power and strength.

Your words can kill a person, can maim and bruise them, destroy them.

Words are so fucking heartbreaking it's almost ridiculous.

And I was going to take it easy and call off the Calvary, but then I remembered that, I could've been a teenager that you'd said that too and that's unacceptable.

So I'm sorry that I got the LGBTQ community involved. Sorry that people want to call the HRC. Sorry that my sister called my therapist, the hospital administrator and everyone else that she could think of and reported you. Sorry that an apology from you to me, just isn't enough at this point.

You see I may be transgender, but I'm one badass transgender, dominating bastard with a lot of people supporting me and backing me up and a lot of people fighting for me.

This time, you fucked with the wrong one.



Tuesday, December 6, 2011

"Has He Seen You?"

I love well-meaning people sometimes.

Sometimes they make you think about something that you never considered before.

A well-meaning person asked me if I was transgender.

A well-meaning person asked me if I was a Dom.

A well-meaning person asked me if I needed to move away from Florida.

A well-meaning person asked me if I wanted to sing more than I wanted to act.

A well-meaning person told me that I should make writing my career.

A well-meaning person told me that I should follow my instincts and my feelings and pursue Daniel.

Sometimes they make you want to either cause yourself physical harm...or them.

A "well-meaning" person got on a thread in a group and grilled and interrogated me in an effort to "understand" and then didn't care that I was so hurt and traumatized I lay around in a daze for two weeks following that.

A "well-meaning" person contacted the biologicals to tell them who I was living with when I was still in Florida and that lead to my "exorcism."

A "well-meaning" person called to tell me about what my biologicals was doing with my stuff and my puppy, even though they knew I'd just gotten out of the hospital for costochondritis and didn't need to be stressed.

A "well-meaning" person said that at this "point" in my life that Daniel was too good for me and that I should let him find someone else.

A "well-meaning" person slandered and insulted a family (new family) member of mine, to my "face" (it online) and tried to tell me that they were doing it for my "own good."

But here's the clencher:

A friend of mine, R, that I've known since freshman year of high school asked me if I was sure that Daniel had seen a picture of me and if I was positive that Daniel knew I was trans*, because while he wasn't "saying" that I was "ugly", he was saying that I "look like a chick" and "isn't Daniel gay?"

I don't know if it's because I was tired and when I'm tired I always tend to be a little more sensitive in certain areas, I don't know if it's because I've always been a little "touchy" about my looks, or if it's the fact that when it comes to being with a gay man when I'm transitioning is already something I'm so emotionally exposed about, but when R said this, I felt like I'd been punched in my stomach. So much so that I for a moment started to think that maybe he was right.

Only for a moment, because just like that I remembered conversations, tweets, blog posts, candid, private IMs where Daniel and I talked about everything.

And while I'm not 100% right now, I'm not the 10% mass of insecurity I was just over two hours ago.

So when it comes to well-meaning people, take their advice and their statements with one hand on your shield to deflect the bullshit and one hand ready to receive the good stuff.

Then you won't have to spend 2 hours on Youtube watching videos of Lucas Teague to cheer you up when you could be sleeping.

-Vicktor Aleksandr

Up to You Chris Brown (Cover) - Lucas Teague

The blog I was going to write is being postponed because these videos are just saying so perfectly what I can't. So *shrugs* I'll let Lucas Teague do it for me.

Lucas Teague - Promise

Sunday, December 4, 2011

What About My Voice?

I'm a singer.

It's something that I know I've stated on here before, but of course I have yet to put up any posts of me singing. Not because I don't want to but because my computer's recording sucks ass. Plus my microphone makes me sound like a robotic chicken (according to Daniel).

But I sing around the house, while I'm writing, taking a shower, cooking, and of course, when I'm listening to music.

But with the T-shots my voice is going to get deeper.

And I have to wonder if my voice is going to change.

Will I still be able to sing like I do now? How deep is my voice actually going to get?

So what about my voice?

It may sound shallow to worry about that, especially in light of everything else that could go wrong, but I love my singing voice.

I will be really sad if I lose it.

Especially since I have a reason to sing again.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

In Honor of Justin: My Soul Mate

I still remember the first time that I saw him. He was beautiful. Tall, black hair, tanned skin, broad, muscled, with a gorgeous smile. I remember blinking repeatedly to make sure that I wasn't dreaming and I wasn't. I turned to my new "best friend" Angel and asked in a harsh whisper "Who is that?"

Angel rolled his eyes. "That's just Justin. He a friend of mine. C'mon I'll introduce you."

I remember how I hesitated to step forward, how my palms started to sweat. I just knew that I was going to make a fool out of myself. I wasn't "Smooth Vicktor" like I am now. I was a freshman in high school, still running from my truth. I was just "Dorky Veronica" back then.

Angel turned and looked at me, "It ain't like you got a chance. He's gay anyway."

I remember, even now, how Angel saying those words didn't bring me relief but only made me feel like I had MORE of a chance than ever.

I understand more now and I wish that Justin was still alive so that he could see me become the man that he always saw inside. Justin was the first person to call me "Vic" because he said I just didn't look like a "Ronnie" which is what I had people calling me senior year.

Justin was beautiful and talented. Fun. Justin could have been a Tony Award winner he was so fantastic. But Justin had a serious problem.


Ian was Justin's unfaithful partner. Ian slept with everyone and everything. Never used a condom and never got checked.

Neither did Justin.

Despite my constant harping of him. Despite me always dragging him with me whenever I got tested in high school or in college. Despite the flood of text messages, emails and voicemails from me, Ryan and Angel, Justin never got tested.

By the time he did, it was too late. He didn't have HIV, he had full-blown AIDS.

They put him on medication and while having HIV and AIDS is not the death sentence today that it used to be, for Justin, it was.

And the absolute tragic irony is, Ian is still alive, though Justin contracted the disease from him.

I was at work when I got the phone call from a furiously angry Puerto Rican. Angel was going off in Spanish, his mouth forming rapid words and spewing them forth in a rage, most of which I didn't catch. And then I heard it:

Then Justin told me that the doctors said it was AIDS, not HIV...full blown AIDS.

I didn't hear anything else that Angel said. My heart was shattered, all I heard was white noise. It couldn't be possible. Not my Justin. Justin and I were supposed to eventually get married one day, we were supposed to have kids. Even back then I'd told him that all he had to do was wait for me to become a gay man and we'd be set.

I remember when I called his cell phone. That conversation and the last one I ever had with him are locked in my brain and plays in a continuous loop in my mind, just like my first and last conversation with Christopher. I'm amazed at how my mind works and horrified that it would remember things that I'd rather forget as well.

Justin: Hello.
Me: Hey.
Justin: (pause) Oh, hey Vic.
Me: So....
Justin: So I guess Angel told you.
Me: (silence)
Justin: I don't need you lecturing me Vic. Seriously.
Me: (softly) Why didn't YOU tell me?
Justin: What?
Me: Why the hell did I have to find out from fucking Angel of all people?
Justin: But you love Angel!
Me: Yeah. But I love you more! Why the FUCK didn't YOU TELL ME JUSTIN?!
Justin: I COULDN'T!
Me: Why?
Justin: Because I can't stand to hurt you Vic! I can't bear the disappointment. And because I didn't want to hear you cry.
Me: Well too fucking bad for you then huh? (sniffs) Why couldn't you have just gotten tested when I told you? How dare you do this to me. To us. Our group can't stand to lose any more people. You can't do this Justin. You can't have AIDS okay? (sobs) You just can't.

What followed after that was a lot of crying on my part and a lot of apologizing on Justin's. I'd been angry with him before, this wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last.

I read up on everything that I could find about AIDS, I signed every petition, marched, wrote about and started to pray, for the first time in years, that the same God that had let my fiance pass away from brain cancer wasn't a complete bastard and would save my friend instead. I started going back to church, thinking that if I did, maybe, just maybe, God, Allah, YHVH (Jehovah), would take pity on me and save my best friend, my soul mate, and he'd be completely cured.

Because I'd read stories about people suddenly not having it any more. I knew that Magic Johnson had had HIV for like over a decade or more and he was still around and working and to my mind, Justin was a much better person than Magic.

Then I got the phone call, Justin had gotten pneumonia from his sister's girlfriend and he was in the hospital and if I wanted to see my friend, I need to get an emergency passport and get over to England as quick as I could.

I remember my brain shutting down. I remember scrambling for money, for identification, trying to pack in a hurry, trying against all hope to pray and believe for a miracle. I remember being told that since Justin wasn't a family member I couldn't get the emergency passport, but I could get an express one in a week and pay an extra couple hundred dollars. I remember telling them money was no object and Skyping with the boys that night.

The cry that ripped out of me when I saw Justin, model beautiful Justin looking frail and helpless still echoes in my brain sometimes. I hadn't seen him for over a year by that point and his mother told me that not all of it was because of the "inconvenient diagnosis." She said Justin hadn't been eating, that he'd been stressing and that he'd started dating Link, another guy who had HIV. She was fairly certain that they'd used condoms but "couldn't be sure."

Our last conversation with each other was two days later, because three days after Justin went in the hospital he stopped fighting and passed away. It was short and I never would have thought that my friend would stop fighting, but our last conversation, while it rips my heart to ribbons of despair and agonizing loneliness many times, also makes me smile.

Me: So he's totally gay and just won't admit it.
Justin: And you're going to make him?
Me: Me and Little Big Vic, you know I take him with me everywhere I go.
Justin: That guy is dangerous, he almost brought me to my knees when I saw him
Me: That's his job, to bring sexy gay men to their knees.
(we both laugh)
Justin: So when I get to Heaven I'll look out for Vivianna and Christopher okay?
Me: Oh Justin, please, you're going to be fine.
Justin: Vee, seriously, I'm going to die soon-
Me: Shut the fuck up Justin!
Justin: Grow the hell up Veronica!
Justin: (sigh) Look, Vee, Vic, shit...I don't want to die, but I'm being realistic here, everyone's already said their goodbyes to me, everyone except you and honestly, I don't want to be another Christopher for you. I want you to say goodbye to me. I need you to say goodbye to me.
Me: Fuck you asshole.
Justin: That works too.
(we both laugh)
Me: Goddammit Justin, I'm going to miss you. What the hell am I supposed to do without you?
Justin: Well, you'll be a whole lot less fashionable. You'll fall back into utter dreariness and be completely boring.
Me: Smart ass.
Justin: Seriously Vic. You're going to be fine. I think you're going to finally start living for yourself and stop living through me. You're going to fall in love again, get married, have kids, get the hell away from your awful family. Laugh, because you love to laugh. You'll start singing again, you'll get the goddamn surgery so you can dance again and knowing you, you'll create some amazing charity to raise money for AIDS in my memory and add it to your list of ways to save the world.
Me: You make me sound like Wonder Woman.
Justin: Wonder Woman was a wimp. You're totally Superman.
Me: I love you.
Justin: Not half as much as I love you.
Me: Wait for me?
Justin: On the other side baby.

I lost my friend last year.

It was heartbreaking and I thought about joining him. He was with Christopher, my fiance', and Vivianna our daughter. They were probably in Heaven having fun. Dancing and singing and eating lots of inappropriate foods. I wanted to be with them.

But I know that Justin was right. Because I did get an idea for a charity to help find a cure for AIDS that's in his memory. I did get away from my horrible biological family and found a new family that loves and supports me. I did fall in love again. Then fell out of love and then found someone who makes my heart soar just thinking about him. Someone who makes me a better me and accepts me warts and all, and actually loves my possessive and sometimes jealous personality, someone that I feel like Justin handpicked for me with the help of Christopher, my dear friend Mores, my cousins Valerie and Tabitha, and my daughter Vivianna.

I'm laughing again and just recently started to sing again.

Getting married and having kids is definitely on my horizon.

And saving the world? That wonderful list that Justin teased me about. Well, it actually exists.

The HIV virus and the AIDS disease is a horrible bastard that I am determined to fight and win against, just like that stupid cancer disease. Cancer is a horrible luck of the draw.

HIV and AIDS can be avoided however.

Use a condom.

Wrap it up. Always, always, use a condom. Even if you trust the person, until you get that piece of paper that says you're both negative and there's a commitment in place, use a condom.

Because I want to cut AIDS down at its knees. I want to take the bastard out. And if I can get you and others to be safe, we can starve that horrible disease where it is and not give it another person, another family, another friend, another brother, another son, another daughter, another sister or grandson or granddaughter or cousin or niece or nephew...if you're safe and I'm safe and everyone's safe, then one day, and hopefully one day soon, World AIDS Day will be a day of remembering those we lost before and also celebrating that there are no new cases and that there is a cure for those who had it before.

I promised my friend I'd save the world, so I'm starting with you.

-Vicktor Aleksandr B.