Danielle Hendrix
"officially a vegetarian"
Journal Entries for Danielle Hendrix
I've Gone Vegetarian ...
July 20th, 2008 5:27 pm MDT
Yes ... Readers Of This Blog, it's official: your dirtly little tgirl correspondent has gone vegetarian. For the record, I'm on Day 2. Let me explain. It all started a few days ago with the firm commitment to make some changes in my life. I'm attending a tgirl conference in Atlanta at the end of September and it seemed like the perfect scenario to set myself some goals. I like to look my best at these things and loyal readers know I like to be the hottest piece of tgirl ass I can be ... so I started thinking about losing weight and going vegetarian seemed like a logical way to 1) accomplish the weight loss, 2) be as healthy as I can be, and 3) keep my tpussy in tip-top shape. They say a goal isn't a goal unless you tell someone ... well, I'm telling everyone who reads this blog that my goal is to lose 20 pounds by the Southern Comfort Conference in Atlanta on September 30th. 20 pounds is a lot. I already work out to keep my ass in shape, so this is going to be a serious muther-fucker of a challenge to get it done. Therefore, WISH ME LUCK. I'm definitely going to need it. One more thing: I get a lot of mail from readers who want to meet me face-to-face. So often I would like to, but I don't know what I'll be doing or where I'll be, which makes it difficult. Well, if you've wanted to meet me and you have the means, here's your chance. I'll be at SCC in Atlanta from Tuesday, September 30th through Sunday, October 5th. So come by and say "hi", have a drink, take a picture or fuck me senseless ... just don't say you didn't have the chance. Details can be found at sccatl.org Wish me luck ... and eat your vegetables! xoxo Danielle (your dirty little vegetarian tgirl)
Baby Steps
May 21st, 2008 6:46 pm MDT
I got a great email from a girl the other day. After reading my reply, I figured it could possibly help some girls out there, so here's the exchange ... "M" from New Hampshire writes … I have to ask you: do you ever wake up in your nightgown, with that body and those boobs and ask yourself, “how did I get here?” OMG, Michelle … I ask myself this all the time. As a matter of fact, I was driving the other day with my friend Dina and we talked about this very topic. It’s like, “how did I end up in a miniskirt with my tits hanging out in downtown Boston in the middle of the day?” I guess the answer is … it just sort of happens over time. Becoming a t-girl doesn’t happen overnight. Sure, it’s possible to cross-dress in one day. But there’s so much more to it than that. Dressing is just the paint job. It’s the whole mentality that is truly the engine. It’s the way you feel, how you portray yourself, the things you believe in. It’s the walk, the talk, the movements. These things can’t be forced. They need to be discovered and developed over time. It’s a series of the tiniest little baby steps that add up to a long journey. I can’t believe I’m here today, just as I couldn’t believe it when I was at the mall for the first time or a snazzy restaurant or whatever. It just slowly builds. I will say this: the only way to truly grow is to take a very small step outside of your comfort zone as often as possible. I advise to take a real small step because stepping too far causes failure, and failure is a t-girl dish best served in small doses. Otherwise the girl gets discouraged and that leads to more failures and the vicious cycle begins. Take a small step though, and you provide yourself with a reasonable chance of success in a situation you haven’t been in before. That builds confidence. It also allows you to use relatable experience when you’re outside your box. Here’s an example: Take the straight club. They can be tricky at first, because if you’re “made” it can be tough to take. So, if you’re comfortable being out and about at the t-friendly places, slide into a straight club on a Wednesday or some night where you’re not packed in with wall to wall people. Find a boot or a seat at the bar and take it in. Get to know the bartender and the staff a bit. Learn where the bathroom is. Then sip your drink and leave. You came. You saw. You conquered. That way if you end up there on a Friday or Saturday night, you have a chance to make it. You may recognize a friendly staff member’s face. They may recognize yours. You’ll know where the bathroom is. Basically, you’ll look and more importantly feel like you belong a little bit. This will keep your confidence up and just might lead to a successful night in a potentially highly stressful environment. Conversely, walking in cold, without the Wednesday dry run, sets you up for a much higher chance of failure. I got a bit off track here, but the basic point of all of this is: yes, I often wonder how the hell I got here – until I think about all the little things I’ve done to make it work. When I do that, it allows me to understand it all a lot better. This is a journey. Take your time. If you do, you’ll be surprised how far you get. xoxo Danielle
The End Of An Era
April 1st, 2008 3:02 pm MDT
The End Of An Era (04.01.08) Isn't spring supposed to heighten the senses and reawaken the sex drive of people the world over? I think so, right? It's spring … so we fuck a lot. Skirts are worn, covering little. Tops get tighter, covering less. Isn't this a rite of spring? Shouldn't my t-girl honey-pot be longing for a wide range of sexual fulfillment right now? Shouldn't I be spending my days slowly contracting my legs and core so I can provide an A+ sexual experience? Shouldn't I be researching the latest oral techniques? Shouldn't I be doing … something? I should be. But I'm not. Why am I so blasé about sex right now? Is it planetary alignment? Probably not. Is it my newfound maturity? It sure seems like it. I know what you're thinking. You're saying to yourself, "Danielle, you love sex, drugs and rock and roll too much, both figuratively and literally, to be maturing." I know this. I know. What can I do? I went to a party this Saturday. Spring was clearly in the air – if you are OK with substituting "spring" with "sex". There were plenty of hookups. Tons of propositions. I could have had sex with any number of people in the place. I thought about it. And yet, when the bar was closed and the after-parties were about to begin and I was entering a prime space to slide out of my skirt and slide onto a good man … I went to bed. Alone. I went to bed? Yup. Yes. Affirmative. I went to bed. So, before you begin to doubt what I'm saying, be assured that I do have it in me to keep certain things out of me. And I was OK with calling it a night. I went to my hotel room. I showered. I slipped into bed. I considered watching my roommate get it on … but even those plans were overtaken by beautiful, blissful sleep. It wasn't even 2:00 AM. And here I am, a few days later … still feeling the same way. My beloved vibrator sleeps alone, probably feeling discarded and unwanted. My fishnets have been packed away. Can this really be happening? It can. It is. I found myself shopping for shoes on-line last night … and I clicked the "low heels" button for the first time. There's quite a few good buys to be had in that section. I was surprised. My sweatshirt is baggy. My hair is up. My lips are a soft pink. My makeup is light. My inner sexpot has left the building. If you wanted me and haven't had me, your time appears to be up. Yes. I do believe maturity has set in. And I'm surprisingly OK with it. I say this with a straight face and not a hint of a coquettish smile: Turn out the lights … the party's over. Thanks for reading. xoxo Danielle
Easter Ramblings
March 23rd, 2008 1:38 pm MDT
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged about some of the random things that are on my mind. Lately, it’s been blow-by-blow diaries or diatribes against the inconsiderate men I encounter. I was able to squeeze in a post about the good guys in this world, too. They should never be forgotten. But it’s time for something light. Something simple. A quick tour of the things on my mind. Trust me ... not much is today. I’ve spent some time comparing moisturizers if you must know. It’s not exactly exciting ... Alas, it’s Easter and I am without chocolate, which is a good thing since I’ve been on a massive health kick lately. I sprained my ankle a few months back and that laid me up for a full month. Since my ankle has healed, all I’ve seemingly done is work out. The good news is, I’m starting to see results ... which is nice. I blogged about Nikki Sixx’ The Heroin Diaries several months ago. In it, Nikki has published a year’s worth of diary entries he kept during 1987, a period of great success for Motley Crue and of drug-induced self-destruction for himself. The book quickly became and still remains a best-seller. In what is now seemingly a stroke of genius, Nikki elected to deliver a "soundtrack" to the book as well, collaborating with long time friend James Michael and guitarist DJ Ashba to form the band Sixx: AM. The result, in my opinion, was a concept record that accomplished a rare feat - it told a cohesive story, it didn’t contain filler tracks and it remained commercially viable while holding true to it’s very dark concept. It came out to a moderate amount of fanfare and was critically praised by every important rock writer. Then the record fell off the planet, seemingly to never be heard from again. This saddened me, because the album is brilliant. I urged the readers of this blog to check it out ... few did. And then a funny thing happened. The first single, Life Is Beautiful, which was released last July, ever-so-slowly began to see airplay ... in October. Why there was such a delay is beyond me. It reminded me of GnR’s Welcome to the Jungle, in that it didn’t perform well right away and seemed to be ready to vanish, when the slow burn began. Life Is Beautiful was similar to that. In October, I started to hear it on the radio every so often. Then I began to hear it every day. By now, as I write this, the song is in heavy rotation on every major rock radio station in Boston and occupies a top 5 slot on the Billboard Rock Chart. It peaked at 2. The second single, Accidents Can Happen, is teed up and ready to go. And now the record is back on the charts, doing quite fine, thank you very much. It’s a true artistic triumph for a guy often overlooked as a songwriter and I am pleased that this record is now getting the due it deserves. Readers of this blog - check out The Heroin Diaries. It’s well worth it. I just realized I can barely lift my arms after this morning’s workout. I think I may have overdone it. I have discovered the joys of Tahari clothing. I think I’m in love. Their stuff is top-notch. Thank goodness for spring ... my love affair with the color pink can now resume. Is anyone else concerned about the Red Sox’ pitching staff? Beckett’s amazing and Wakefield is a solid veteran, but Dice-K as the 2 guy in a rotation with essentially 2 rookies in Lester and Bucholtz? Seems shaky to me, no matter Lester’s great start in game 4 of the World Series and Bucholtz’ late season no-hitter. They worry me. If you’re a Sox fan, they should worry you too. Theo needs to make a move. Their line-up is ferocious from top to bottom, though. Further, I think Manny is going to have a huge season. The HBO miniseries John Adams is exceptionally good. Check it out. And that, as they say is that. A little light reading today. Nothing more. Happy Easter to those who celebrate it. I hope the Bunny was good to you. xoxo Danielle (your private little t-girl Easter Bunny)
The Nines: A Salute To The T-Girl
March 19th, 2008 4:07 am MDT
Good things come in nines … nine lives … nine innings … and of course, Nine West. And with that, I am happy to give you the nine reasons why t-girls are so special. There’s millions more, of course. But I like nines. I admire that no player can wear Wayne Gretzky’s double nines and as a Red Sox fan I know the significance of number nine. Nine is good. I love being dressed to the nines. Hell, I even like The Beatles’ Revolution Number 9. Nine, as they say, is fine. So fine in fact, that I present these nine reasons why being a t-girl is so fine … for one very important reason: I am proud of what I am, of what WE are – and for that reason I am glad to present to you my thoughts on the wonder that is US, the t-girl. To wit, I give you the Top Nine Reasons T-Girls … Rock: 9. One dash of Glamour, one pinch of Penthouse … mix well. Few can argue the mindset of the t-girl. We’re girls to our very core. That means we love the girliest of girly things: make-up, jewelry, skirts, stockings, heels, flowers, pink, passion, pandas and poetry … and that’s just the tip of the iceberg – beginning with "P" or any other letter you choose. We express our femininity in seemingly every way imaginable. I love being a woman and I revel in it. All of the t-girls I know do the exact same thing. We’re fun, flirty and most of all feminine in everything we do, say or wear. We rejoice in our womanhood. And, it’s 50/50 there’s a garter belt underneath if you see us out. 8. Bake at 425 for 30 minutes … serve with a matching set of lingerie. I can’t speak for every woman out there – genuine or T – but what I wear under my clothes is tiny, perfumed and matching. As a t-girl, I’m pretty sure we have a law about that. I think a failure to match your fun-to-wear underwear results in banishment from the gender. So, if our clothes come off … we’re color coordinated. Bank on it. 7. The "It" Factor. Genetic girls are great. I love them so much I became one. However, even they will freely admit that every once in a while ’IT’ kicks in. ’It’ is that mysterious chemical that is seemingly placed inside every woman that causes them to – occasionally - make a big deal out of nothing. T-girls tend to be more laid back. That leads to less ’back’ and more ’laid’ … and who doesn’t like more laid? 6. Pussycat Dolls. Not all of us played with Barbies when we were little, which is why we have no problem being your Barbie now. By all accounts, I am a confident, educated and articulate woman. However, I’d still ask a date (if I had a date) if he would prefer I wear pants or a skirt to dinner. I’m just wired that way. I think we all are to some degree. So, dress us up the way you like, boys. We don’t mind in the slightest. Bonus points if you elect for classy over trashy. Extra bonus if you buy it. 5. We don’t rent, we own. Pssst. We have one. And we know exactly what to do with it. Think about it. 4. Must be the shoes. As I type this, Im wearing a pair of yoga pants, a tank top and … 3" open toed sandals? I have no good explanation for this. It actually looks pretty cute, but by all accounts it’s a fashion felony. What can I say? T-girls love heels. So guys, if you’ve ever wanted to have the porno, ’high heels stay on in bed’ experience, date a t-girl. Trust me on this. 3. Bad grammar, aka, ’a lack of periods’. T-girls do cycle. We get bitchy at certain times because of the moon or tides or something. But we’re like "Glinda the Good Witch" in comparison to some of our genetic sisters. We may have our moments, but they don’t last anywhere near the 5-7 day monthly cycle. 2. Fashionably late. I love Dolce & Gabbana, Bandolino’s and Cache. My wardrobe is extensive and it’s also expensive. While I’m not some high society fashionista, I do damn well when it comes to what’s "in" as well as what’s "nice". Many of my t-sisters are the exact same way. We acknowledge and appreciate the beauty of Tahari eight days a week. It’s just one of those things – we know what we’re talking about when it comes to clothes. It’s why t-girls are often the best dressed chicks in the place. 1. The wonder of it all. A good guy friend of mine once said, "Danielle, you look at everything like it’s the first time you’ve seen it. It’s actually pretty cool." That’s because seeing things through our t-girl eyes is truly like seeing things for the first time. We’ve worked so hard for … THIS … and we soak it all in. And I don’t think it ever gets old. This just isn’t my opinion either. To me, the indelible image from First Event 2008 is the sight of a couple hundred t-girls … smiling. Every last one of us. The newbies … the vets … from the once-a-year girls to the full-timers, we were all smiling. When I close my eyes, THAT’S WHAT I SEE. And I ask you: How can you beat that? Thanks for reading. xoxo Danielle
Just fu#k him ... and all will be well
March 16th, 2008 6:59 am MDT
Nikki Sixx of Motley Crue once said, “a woman should be a lady on your arm and a whore behind your door.” .... I agree. .... This is why I feel like I’m the only one who has a slightly different viewpoint of this whole Eliot Spitzer mess. If Spitzer felt the need to pay for sex, doesn’t it at least beg the question of whether or not Mrs. Spitzer was doing her share of her marital duty? Isn’t that at least a fair question? After all, the men I’ve spoken to certainly want a lady on their arm and a whore behind their door. Perhaps Eliot just wasn’t getting what he needed. ..... Now, this blog comes with a fair amount of caveats: 1) I don’t know either of these people, so it’s difficult to get any sort of read on them. It’s a bad enough idea to speculate on the love life of people you do know, let alone those you don’t. ..... 2) Eliot Spitzer is complete prick. That much seems certain. And don’t you get the feeling Eliot’s is a complete egomaniac too? Have you ever met a real and true egomaniac? Yikes. They’re weird and unpredictable and don’t fall within the norms of behavior in general. ..... 3) It’s entirely possible Silda Wall Spitzer is a firecracker in bed, although the name and that miserable face lead me to believe otherwise. ..... With those out of the way … I’ll continue. Shouldn’t we at least look at sunny Silda as the cause for all of this? Yes, he stuck his dick where he shouldn’t have, and as a married man, that’s a bad decision. Bringing the escort in question across state lines from New York to Washington was also a poor choice – and that act is probably going to land Eliot in the clink. But I do wonder whether all of this could have been avoided if Silda had just let Eliot cum on her face every day. ..... If you break it down, it’s a pretty simple set of equations:..... A man + consistently hot and varied sex = faithful. ..... A man + boring or non-existent sex = a cheater. ..... That’s really all we need to know, isn’t it? ..... For the guys reading this, think about your sex drive. Yes, I know many of you feel you’re “always horny”, and to a point that may be true. But it’s a scientific fact that men are less horny after they’ve just had an orgasm. So doesn’t it stand to reason that if Mrs. Spitzer was sucking and fucking the juice out of Eliot on a daily basis, that this may not have happened? ..... After all, guys are sexual creatures. Most have a penchant for the visual. This is why the porn industry is so prevalent. It’s why a garter belt is a turn on for most men. It’s a sexual/visual thing and they pretty much want to fuck anything wearing one. ..... Doesn’t make them wrong. Just makes them men. ..... I love to dress sexy for a man in and out of the bedroom. It’s the centerfold fantasy all over again. They’re not used to seeing garters and stockings and heels and being able to fuck the girl who is wearing them. They’re not used to this one bit, so by being that living, breathing fantasy come to life, they tend to have hard-ons a lot. ...... Because of this, when I’m seeing somebody, I’ve constantly got a hard cock inside me somewhere. They want it – and it’s my obligation to provide it. I’m guessing this is why Eliot Spitzer spent all that money on hookers, too. He wasn’t getting it at home and if he was, it wasn’t interesting. As our equations show, that’s the recipe for a man to stray. Someone like Silda Wall Spitzer should know this too...... Is it really that difficult? I hear stories from guys all the time about their girlfriend or wife and the utterly lacking sex life they share. I can’t understand it. We’re talking about sex! It’s fun, it feels so good and it’s a satisfying bonding experience too (if you care about the person you’re fucking). Why don’t these women want it more? A guy can have me any way he likes – trashy, classy, naked, on the hood of the car … and he can pretty much do whatever he would like – fuck me, cum all over me, tie me up, let me tie him up, toys, role playing, fantasies … the list goes on and on … because 1) I love sex, and 2) I realize that a man is not going to put his dick anywhere else if he’s already blown his load three times before mid-day..... And my guess is Silda could have avoided all of this if she opened her legs for her man on a daily basis. Thanks for reading. xoxo .... Danielle
Do You Have What It Takes?
March 12th, 2008 4:26 pm MDT
Do you have what it takes? (03.11.08) As regular readers of this blog know, I’ve been critical in the past of guys who seem to think the internet is a place where they can “go caveman” and come on to a girl with a simple, “hey baby, ur hot” bullshit approach. As you also know, it drives me nuts when guys do this. However, I am nothing if not nice and it takes a lot to push my buttons. One recent incident, while not requiring a full scale “vent” from me, did make me pause to examine my actions, as well as the actions of the guy in question (aka the GIQ). After a busy weekend, I was on-line catching up with some friends when I got an IM from a guy -the GIQ - that I had chatted with a few times prior. He had not been rude in the past, although he was (and is) borderline clueless to the point of occasionally saying dumb things that a girl with a shorter fuse might have truly been offended by. When the GIQ sent me the instant message I was in the process of chatting with 5 or 6 of my girlfriends. Recognizing his screen name as a decent enough guy, I didn’t give him the brush off. Instead, I attempted to make some time for him. Again, I genuinely try to be nice. After exchanging a few pleasantries, the next question out of his mouth was, “so, do you go out dressed?” Now, do I really need to comment on the stupidity of this question? He was referring to my “tgirl-ness” – not whether I leave the house naked – and what he meant by asking me was “do you leave the house dressed as a woman?” I live much of my life like this, so the answer would be “yes”. But that’s not the point. Here’s the point: are you fucking kidding me? Let me back up. I had spoken with this guy before. I had even tolerated a similar conversation before. But here he was, either being an idiot (which is bad) or forgetting we had already discussed it (which is worse). For the record, I have not ruled out both of these options, which results in the ultimate in stupidity on his part. Anyway … I responded to his question with, “Yes … you’re smarter than that.” He backpedaled and apologized claiming he was just trying to get a rise out of me. (strike 2 if you’re keeping score). Then he said he was embarrassed. He should have been. So here’s where I tried to help him. I said, “Dave, why do you have to ask me tgirl questions at all? Do you ask a girl what it’s like to be a girl?” “No,” he answered. So I replied, “then why do you feel the need to ask a tgirl what it’s like to be a tgirl?” He wasn’t sure. [Note: I understand people can be curious. I have no problem with that. This wasn’t the case here.] So then, with this clusterfuck of annoyance swirling around me, he changed tactics … and asked me out. Now, let me say this again … are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!? I told him, “that’s a nice offer, but I have to decline … for now … because I think you could use a little guidance here.” I then proceeded to reflect on our past conversations and the blunders he had made during this one. I also told him I wanted to help him. He missed the part about me helping him – or didn’t feel he needed it – and instead gave me a “whatever” and left the chat room. And now I say to you, Mr GIQ … coward. These fucking guys. Thing is, I could help him. I could help any guy out there. Because having “game” is something that can be learned. And I have it. I have both sides of it, having been a male and now being “female”. I know the drill inside and out. I know what works and what doesn’t. I know what I respond to as a woman and I know what women respond to from men. I have the answers. I use them every single day of my life with great success. But these guys, these stupid, stupid guys - they want the easy way. And there’s no easy way, unless you’re super hot, super rich or Brad Pitt – who is both. The average schmuck? He has no chance of succeeding just by showing up. The average schmuck needs to work it and work at it. And yes, I’m talking to you, reader of this blog. Or 99% of you anyway. Realistically, only 1% of the population is truly drop dead gorgeous, so yes, if you’re reading this, there’s a fan-fucking-tastic chance you’re the average schmuck. Don’t take offense – I’m in that group too. And yet, each of these guys – Dave and those like him - they all want the easy way. And there isn’t one. What needs to happen is for guys to realize that the best way to attract a girl’s attention is to be different and engaging without being weird and fawning. As backwards as this sounds, the best way to approach a pretty girl isn’t to tell her she’s pretty. If you do, you become just one of dozens who have told her the same thing that day. Approaching girls takes skill. It takes forethought. And it takes a genuine ability to rise above the crowd. It’s hard work. However, doing it well means you’re going to get to do her well over and over again. So, I ask you – do you have what it takes? Do you have the ability to handle the criticism necessary to show you what you’re doing wrong today so you can be better tomorrow? Can you admit your failings to yourself? Can you unlearn what you know (and you must know it doesn’t work, right?) and relearn the right way? Because that’s what it takes. Think about your life. Are you meeting girls all the time? Are you having sex as often as you’d like? If you answer “no” to either of those, then what you’re doing isn’t working. Can you face that fact? Will you make the commitment to be better? Or will you crumble like our Guy In Question and spend another night as an average schmuck and spend yet another night hoping to “get lucky”? Hope away, Mr. Hoper. It won’t do you a damn bit of good. Unless you have what it takes. Thanks for reading. XoxoDanielle
Why I Admire You ...
March 4th, 2008 7:37 pm MST
They call themselves admirers because they view t-girls with wonder and approval. They derive pleasure from knowing us, talking to us and being in our company. They are kind, respectful and giving .... In a world of “me first” and “I don’t care”, they stand out for these reasons … they are the true admirers in every since of the word - and I admire them for it. .... A lot of ink and thought has been used discussing so called “admirers”, with their duplicitous agendas and disgusting attitudes. Conversely, not enough time has been spent on the guys and girls who gave birth to the term in the first place. .... I’ve been vocal about the fake admirers, the “predators” for a little while now. They’ve had their moment. The less said about them right now, the better. .... It’s the true admirers, the real people who care about our well-being, who try to do the right thing and just want to live a happy, normal life that includes t-girls in some fashion – that deserve more. .... They deserve more than a short remark from a t-girl worn out by the fakes and phonies. They deserve more than a slight lowering of our own defensive walls..... In short, they deserve our open gratitude. .... They like us on our bad days as well as our good. They know we’re not always perfect. They know that we can sometimes be moody, that we have our own insecurities and shortcomings. And they love us for it. .... The more adventurous admirers know what it is like to be in our company, to be our friends and lovers, our confidantes and more. They see how hard we work to be what we are – and they appreciate those efforts in ways they probably can’t articulate sometimes. .... I’ve received a lot of mail about my recent posts from admirers and many have done a nice job in conveying just what the words I have written have caused them to feel. Many of the letters spoke to why the particular person writing to me was not a “predator”. Some made strong cases, others didn’t. .... One great letter I received deserves mention. It was from a person I had never spoken to before. .... It reads: “Danielle, I have read your post about admirers several times because it struck me so hard when I first read it that I had to make sure I had consumed your every point. What I liked most about it is that you refused to be the martyr. There was no complaining, no feeling sorry for yourself. It was sheer fact and sheer fact only. I know how hard you gurls work and I know how much this means to all of you because I’ve dated TGs in the past. You’re a special group, full of life and amazement. It seems like each day brings a new experience for the TG. It’s as if life begins anew every single day. I love that about all of you.” .... Let me say this again – thanks for the great letter. It truly made my day. .... And that’s the point isn’t it? Aren’t we all on this earth to be happy? To find beauty is something? Don’t we try to make someone’s day every day? Don’t we hope someone makes our day every day? That’s true admiration. .... Real admirers don’t fall over each other complimenting us or going out of their way to do anything extraordinary. All they have to do is be themselves and all of their wonder shines through. .... These beautiful guys and girls have elected to think and feel for themselves. They have decided to make the t-girl a higher priority than the way society views them for caring about us. They don’t care what “other people” think because they realize that other people don’t notice or don’t care. .... I love the dynamic here because it’s right out of a fairy tale. It’s the same idea as, “only the true of heart will prevail.” That’s the irony – only after an admirer gets over their insecurity about loving t-girls do they realize that there was much ado about nothing, that these concerns were all in their head and that society couldn’t care any less about what they like. .... But the decision to embrace t-girls HAS TO COME FIRST, before learning this wonderful lesson. That’s what makes a real admirer so special – their heart is true. .... Pretty easy, isn’t it? .... The real admirers understand this. They see that there’s nothing wrong with liking what they like. They approve of us and they approve of themselves. They have the courage to stand up and publicly admire us, to view us with wonderment and pleasure. It’s a joy to behold. And I admire them for it. .... Thanks for reading. xoxo ....Danielle
Admirer My Ass
February 25th, 2008 8:27 pm MST
As some of you know, I’ve spent a fair amount of time in the URNA chat rooms recently. I’m really trying to get involved in the t-girl community and as a result I’ve met some really great people and made some new, wonderful friends. I’ve met t-girls from Australia and admirers from Canada and all kinds of people from as close as my home town to the four corners of the earth. Overall, it’s been an incredibly rewarding experience ....... However, there’s one aspect of all of this chatting that bothers me. It’s the never-ending stream of guys who refer to themselves as “admirers” and reveal themselves to be anything but. What they’re doing is wrong. They’re bad for the girls and they’re bad for the real guys out there who are just trying to meet a nice t-girl to take home to Mom. I’m not kidding about that either. ....... So let’s talk about admirers a little bit and how it all relates. Webster’s defines “admirer” as “regarding with wonder, pleasure or approval”. ....... I think it’s important to talk about each of these individually before tying all of this together. ....... Wonder. My life is met with wonderment every day. I get emails and instant messages all the time from all kinds of people expressing an interest or curiosity in what my day to day existence – or my life – is like. How did I get here? What stage of transition am I at? Am I taking hormones? How do people treat me? The list goes on and on – and every single “wondering” question is perfectly fine with me. I’m blessed that you’re interested and I understand (to some degree) why you are. It’s all good with me. ....... Pleasure. Simply put, I love that people derive pleasure from talking to me, getting to know me or looking at me. I’m a smart girl with an opinion and an exhibitionist / kinky outlook on things and quite frankly I get off knowing I’m desired. When I set out on this road a few years ago I did it with one goal in mind – to be the type of girl I admired - sexy, sophisticated, smart, ironic, courageous and dirty when it mattered most. Only the reader can determine if I’ve been successful in accomplishing all of those things, but I’m trying and will continue to try to meet those goals until they bury me in 4” heels. If interacting with me in any way provides a form of pleasure for the other person, then that’s the highest compliment I can be given. ....... Approval. This is where the issue begins and ends with me with regard to “admirers”. There are certainly some who clearly approve of me, t-girls and the entire aspect of transgenderism. I’ve met them, befriended them and even dated them. Because they “approve”, they’re completely comfortable with everything I am and hope to be. They’re “comfortable” with all of it and they look upon me (us) with wonder, pleasure and approval. These are the true admirers and I’d like to thank them for their interest, understanding and desire to show t-girls how special we really are. It means more to us than we could ever truly express in words. ....... However, it is here where other “admirers” reveal themselves to be genuinely disapproving assholes. These are the guys (they’re always guys) who come to this site or go to the t-girl clubs with a predatory agenda of all-around shittyness. Some are married, some are engaged, but more are simply scared. They don’t approve of their own wonder and pleasure with regard to t-girls – it scares them -and because of it, they actually don’t approve of us at all. ....... These are the guys who troll the outside of clubs at 2AM looking for a quick blowjob. They’re the ones inside the club who like to grab a girl when she walks by, in the hopes of getting a quick blowjob. And they’re the ones in the chat room without a picture or a profile who want to “cyber” or meet for a quick blowjob. ....... These guys don’t approve of us and therefore they don’t approve of me. They’re too “shy” (their words) to go into the club or to post their profile, but the reality is, they don’t approve of t-girls – and they are incredibly fearful of being spotted at the club or having their profile spotted by an associate of theirs because the associate would disapprove as well. ....... Of course, these guys don’t have the capacity or the balls to ask themselves what the associate was doing at the club or on the URNA web site in the first place – which I find staggeringly idiotic. ....... It is this blatant lack of approval that reveals most admirers to be nothing more than predators. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re ashamed of themselves after a t-girl encounter, taking extra time to wash and scrub their tiny balls so they can erase the memory of fucking our t-pussy from their minds forever – only to wake up the next morning with a hard-on just thinking about it. ....... It’s wrong and it’s sad and it makes you, the predator, a liar. To me, lying to others is an unforgivable crime, bested only by lying to oneself. If you like us so much, why fight it – and why be so indecent in the process? What are you so afraid of that causes you to be such a prick? ....... I have a news flash for you: society doesn’t care what turns you on, what you do or who you do it with. I’ve gone a million places with a million different people and nobody treats me or those that I’m with any differently than anyone else. That’s the irony of all of this … so much of this fear is unfounded. ....... Guys, if you like us – then act it. Be a gentleman at a club and get to know the girls. You’ll get a hell of a lot further with us (and our friends because we talk about you) and you’ll be a hell of a lot happier in the long run. In addition, post a profile like the real admirers here. I guarantee you’ll find yourself with a lot more t-girl friends than you have now. If you treat the girls with respect at a club or post a profile on URNA and the friends don’t follow, email me and I’ll make sure to introduce you around – it’s my pledge to those who are genuine. ....... As for the true predators out there, the ones without the brains or the balls to act as a decent human being, leave me and the other girls here alone. Go back to your lousy life and keep lying to yourself. We didn’t ask to be a part of your inner turmoil and we’re not interested in your bullshit. Run along, you’re not wanted here. ....... Thanks for reading. ....... Xoxo ..Danielle
If You're Shy ... You Can't Fu#K Me
February 22nd, 2008 7:05 pm MST
I was in a chat room here the other night catching up with some old friends and just generally having a good time when I received yet another instant message. Now, URNA, being sort of the "transgender myspace" is THE place to go if you want to meet a t-girl, so there's always plenty of guys in the chat room looking to flirt with the girls and hopefully find one to cum on. It's a common occurrence (the flirting, not the cumming).The instant message got me thinking about the person who sent it to me, because I happened to check his profile, and he didn't have one. I kept checking profiles as the instant messages from other "suitors" piled up and with rare exception, most of these guys didn't have profiles or pictures on their pages either.Understand, that normally I don't check another person's profile because I get a lot of IMs and checking them all is a pain in the ass when you're trying to chat with a few close friends. Most of the IMs from guys are the same anyway ... lots of "37M here, u r pretty" bullshit that got old years ago. Thing is, a lot of these guys that night would use their super suave "whatcha wearin?" lines on me and then ask me out. Considering I get these types of messages all the time AND know nothing about them since they don't have a profile … it all adds up to being downright pathetic if you ask me. So here's the point: when I asked these guys about their lack of profile, they all answered the same way, with the ultra lame, "I'm shy" bullshit excuse. Now, being shy is a result of insecurity in an interactive setting. It has NOTHING to do with whether or not a person posts a profile on a web page.Of course, the unstated obvious fact of the matter is that these "men" were too SCARED to post a profile or picture for fear or someone seeing them on a t-girl web site ... and yet they have no problem trying to stealth their way into my panties. See where I’m going here? See how ridiculous this is?Boys ... go F yourself. If you're too scared to be a man and admit you're turned on by t-girls then I'm not interested in talking to you. Based on my discussions with a few of my t-friends, they're not either. I'M SHY? Are you kidding me?Here we are ... a bunch of girls, who scratch and claw every day to live our lives in the way that feels natural, to have the courage to step forward into the light under a hailstorm of misunderstanding and prejudice ... and you can't even put up a web page to help you in your quest to cum on some girl's face?Get F-ing real. Sucks too, because I genuinely felt bad for the guys before this revelation. I've even tried to help them in past blogs (see, For Guys Who Want Sex). Well, no longer. No profile, no pussy, no debate. I say to you what the boys usually say to me: take your skirt off ... NOW THAT ... is a vent. Thanks for reading.xoxoDanielle
The T-Girl Dilemma
February 4th, 2008 7:55 pm MST
It begins the same way for all of us … something doesn’t feel right about our masculine gender for one reason or another and the second we embrace the feminine side of ourselves, we experience a bona fide electric shock … and everything feels natural. To some degree, this is where the similarities between all of us begin. Unfortunately, it’s also where a lot of those commonalities end. What I am referring to is what I call “The T-Girl Dilemma”. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about – and it’s the subject of what I think is an extremely important blog. I was talking with a group of girls at First Event recently. We were discussing ourselves, how we looked … and how others looked. While much of what was said was complimentary, there were some negative comments made about some of the other girls. It got me thinking. Why does the t-girl community fight so hard for rights and acceptance … only to turn around and not accept each other on the basis of how we look? That’s the basis of the dilemma … we clearly have some unwritten pecking order based on our appearance. I’ve seen and heard it be downright mean at times. It bothers me. We all begin at or around the same place – getting in touch with our feminine side. And then some of us search for more than that and we find out we’re not alone (unintentional pun, but a good one nonetheless) and there are others seeking the same thing. Ultimately, that’s when the competition begins. Who’s hair is better? Who’s clothes are better? Who’s boobs are real? Who’s on hormones? Who can pass? And the class system begins to rear it’s ugly head. And when it does, it can leave girls broken. Here’s something I believe in my heart – I have yet to encounter a t-girl who cares about the feminine side of things more than I do. There isn’t a t-girl out there who cares about portraying (and honoring) the feminine package more than me. While some readers will understandably disagree, it’s the way I feel inside and you will never convince me otherwise - just as I will never know exactly how you feel. It’s just the way it is. But this means everything to me. I put those convictions down on paper to prove a painful point: A year or so ago, I overheard a “friend” of mine on the phone. She was talking to my best friend. The call happened to be on speaker … not for any other reason than my friend was driving and it was safer for her to keep both hands on the wheel. Out of the blue, my “friend” on the other end of the phone says to her, “you look great … but we need to work on Danielle.” I froze. It was painful, horrible and terrible. This was a person I respected. She’s full-time and fairly pretty and her opinion meant something to me. And her opinion of me was (evidently) not good. When you care about THIS as much as I do and you hear something like that about yourself … it sucks. It would have broken a lot of people. I know this because I’m a pretty strong and confident person and even I had a period where I wondered if I was fooling myself. I wondered if the pretty girl I saw in the mirror was a figment of my imagination. Was I a joke? I love women. I love them so I much I became one. So learning I was nothing more than a bad caricature of a woman is the last thing I would ever want to happen. But there it was – the beat down of one t-girl by another … in all it’s brutal glory. I’ve been on the other end, too. Going out to straight clubs and restaurants can be challenging (so is the mall). There’s a premium on “passing” or coming damn close. I’ve been out to straight clubs with other t-girls who may not have fit the feminine ideal quite as well as some others. Because of this, there was a movement to not have those girls come out the next time we were going to those kinds of places. It’s pretty lousy, isn’t it? Not wanting a “friend” to come along because of the way they look? I didn’t originate those thoughts, but I didn’t do anything to stop them either – and it makes me feel bad when I think about it. More victims of the tgirl class system, to say the least. And that sucks. Thing is, I can see both sides. I was talking with a beautiful t-girl on-line the other day. I was beginning to formulate this post in my head and I happened to ask her about the t-girl dilemma … and her response summed up the other side of this situation: “I’ve worked my ass off for 10 years to be what I am today,” she said. “More than anything, I wanted to be a girl. So I transitioned – hormones, implants, surgeries and in the course of all of that I worked my ass off and went through a lot of BS – telling my family, getting a new job, starting over as a female. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and it’s also the most rewarding. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to be compared to a guy who puts a dress on every couple of months for a kick. That’s a fetish. I’m a woman. Those two things aren’t even in the same ballpark.” Pretty compelling – and understandable. So on and on it goes. Should it stop? I don’t know. I know that we – as a group - work so hard every day as we fight for acceptance in society – and I know it frustrates me that we then turn around and tear each other apart. We claim solidarity, yet we often practice the opposite. I believe this is wrong. I also believe there are distinct differences in what we all want from our t-girl lives. Therefore, just as it’s wrong to tear each other down, it’s also wrong for those struggling to achieve a truly feminine appearance to expect the same level of acceptance in mainstream society as their more “advanced” sisters. It would be great if we lived in an all-accepting society, but we don’t - and it’s impractical to demand that acceptance from a stranger. The world doesn’t work that way. I realize there are far more questions than answers in this post. I don’t claim to have the answer. This is simply something that has been on my mind. I believe it’s worth talking about. If you feel the same, let me know what you think by leaving a comment or sending me an email. Thank you very much for reading this. xoxoDanielle
For Guys Who Want Sex (01/03/08)
January 3rd, 2008 7:29 pm MST
They're all the same ... "5'11", 175, vgl, br/br, want to meet u" Guys, guys, GUYS! Here's a secret you should know: many tgirls receive emails like this 10, 20, 100, 200, 2000 times A DAY. Do you honestly think your silly combination of numbers, letters and codes is going to get a girls' attention given the amount of mail we receive? ---Before this goes any further, let me assure you of one thing: the purpose of this blog is to help you create interest in a tgirl for the purpose of turning your amazing email exchange into a date on which you very well may dazzle her into your bed for coitus eroticus with a side of moremorebabypleasethistimefromtheback. --- You may be the most incredible guy in the world ... nice, funny, sexy, wealthy, all of those things - but how am I or my tgirl sisters to know that when your email reads, "hot4u, 37, can i call u?" --- The answer, of course, is ... we can't. It's impossible to tell whether you're an articulate heavenly body with 10" of sex to ride or a balding, moronic bridge troll. (For the record, anyone who uses "u" instead of "you" in an email to me is immediately on double secret bridge troll probabation before the conversation even starts. Idiots.)---Now, only you know whether your ultra suave "26, hot, shaved, whatchu wearing?" emails are getting a good response from the sexy chickies. Perhaps you're sending those suckers out and tgirl pussy is flocking to you like Brad Pitt on a solo vacation. If so, feel free to exit this blog and email me immediately because I would love to talk to you about that little miracle and whether you can teach me to turn water into wine. --- However, if your email response rate is ... flaccid, then read on: your able minded dirty tgirl has some guaranteed email pointers to make us girls a bit hotter and your nights a lot stickier. -- Tip 1: Know Your Audience. I've already established that every day a whole truckload of indistinguishable emails arrive in my inbox. I typically delete them because they're lame, lousy and just like all of the others. So which ones do I respond to? --- Here's one that I got the other day. I responded to it because it showed he put some effort into it, it got my attention, it was different, it was funny and it was polite, while still playful. My thoughts about the email are in parenthesis ... ----Danielle,I am writing because I came across your profile and thought it was pretty cool. (Not a firecracker beginning, but not bad either). Then I looked at your pictures and things got hotter. (a so-so play on words, but a built in compliment too - and not one spelling mistake so far ... woo-hoo!). I'm a 29 year old professional, single and a bit of a free spirit. You seem like one too. That may sound a bit odd (to be honest, I am) because most people think 'earthy crunchy' when they hear 'free spirit', but it's all over your profile. From your smile to your sexy bio (this is getting better) to your penchant for Dominance & submission, it's clear you are pretty open minded.I have some experience in the D/s area (intriguing). Let me ask you, how did you get started? (it's a VERY dirty story). Are you Dominant or a sub. And why?I'm very interested to learn more about you and I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have about me. (this is as it should be) If you aren't interested in responding, take care and thank you for reading this. (a very polite ending).Happy New Year! ---Name WithheldI --- Is this the greatest email I've ever read? Honestly, no. But it's 1) different without being really weird, 2) it's obvious that he read my profile and didn't just look at the pictures, 3) it's respectful and coherent, and 4) it doesn't have that "I'm going to compliment you a few times so you'll meet me and I can cum all over you" vibe to it.And of course, boys - he asked me a few questions, which prompts me to reply (see, the word is even built into this).Bottom line: He learned a little about me and asked some questions based on what he had learned - and that got my attention. ---- Tip 2: Challenge Your Target.Here's another email I recently received:If I can guess your measurements, dress size and the color panties you are wearing, will you IM with me for 15 minutes?Short, sweet and pretty creative if you ask me ... he got a response too. A totally different tact, but it worked. ---- Tip 3: Time Your Flattery.This is a tough one. I get a lot of emails that are basically one long complimentary puke session about how beautiful/hot/sexy I am. To some degree, they're sweet and I try to acknowledge most of them with a quick email thanking them for the compliment. I'm certain many other girls don't do this. I understand why, since normally Mr. Suave's reply to my thank you goes something like this: "42 mwm here. are those real?" ---- I'd love to breathlessly reply, "oooh baby-baby with that hot married cream stick and the prepubescent teen at home, I can't wait to put my maybe real/maybe fake tits around that 42 year old sex-shaft and make it cooze all over. Your writing style is so amazing and I can tell you really like me from your dynamic prose that conjures thoughts of long, sticky nights talking to you in coded klingon, you fucking douchebag" - but even my sarcasm has limits. Those get the instant delete from me. Anyway, compliments can work, but dish them out like $50s, not like dimes. ----- LASTLY, a note about pictures - guys, they help. They do. And if your profile doesn't have one, you're at a huge disadvantage. I'm not talking about whether you're good looking or not ... the lack of photo leads women to assume you're 1) married, 2) in the witness protection program, and 3) insanely ugly. Honestly, that lack of photo might help you keep your privacy, but I guarantee you it will cause you to keep your pants on too. And that's just the way it is. ---- So there you have it ... my little gift to you. A "how to" for email success. Follow this guide and you'll go from email to date to the resevoir tip in no time, you handsome stud. Just make sure you call her again if you cum on her. We appreciate that! ----- xoxo - Danielle (your tip giving, g-string wearing tgirl wench)
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