Rachel Df Tv
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New Photos Coming
Kimberly Elise January 6th, 2009 6:30 am MSTI had a formal makeover and photo session on Sunday, January 4th. Later this week I should have some new photos, my first big group of new photos since last May. They will include some casual "bare leg" looks with denim and flip flops, as well as some more dressed up office lady looks. Some of the photos will show off the pedicure I had (vivid pink nail polish). Also, my hair is in a longer style now, well below my shoulders. Kim :-)
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Candis Beach January 2nd, 2009 12:20 pm MSTTAG Sale MY MOMS HOUSE IN NY !!!!!! lots of vintage stuff !!!!!! sale date is the 17th of jan ... if intrested , PM me !!!! thanx gals
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A Christmas present to myself
Simone December 30th, 2008 1:48 am MSTHmm, could of sworn I had posted stuff here before, probably wiped it all out sometime ago when I was in a mood....oh well...
So, here we are in the holidays, life is good in San Diego for the most part, weather still generally ridiculous compared to the rest of the US. Though it actually rained the last couple weeks for the first time I can remember. But my self a couple new things in the mail, hard to resist with all the Christmas deals around, but I think this is the first year in sometime that haven't set foot in a store to buy Simone things. The only shopping I physicallly did this year was Toys R' Us and Target to get presents for my kids.
I think I may have my first negative physical effect of years running around as Simone (well running around in the house anyways, too chicken shit and too scary looking to do otherwise). Been having problems with heel pain that won't go away. Turns out it's plantar fascitis... one of the presumed causes is wearing high heels, so I can't help but wonder if my lifestyle hasn't contributed.
If anyone is reading this that has had any experience with Laser Hair Removal, specifically for the beard, I'd love to hear how it's gone for you. I'm shopping around to do it myself, but not sure how much I can expect out of it. Would appreciate hearing about others experiences.
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First Journal Posting 28 Dec 2008
Teri Ray December 28th, 2008 2:18 pm MSTFirst time at posting a journal comment. I havent dressed in ages. I miss it. Hope to have a chance to dress soon. Huggs Teri
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URNA DETECTIVES NEWS FLASH! DAN, JON & THE CASE OF THE MISSING JOURNAL ENTRIES!
Karen Reeves December 27th, 2008 8:54 pm MSTHi Everyone!
It appears that the case of the missing journal entry postings has been SOLVED!
I can see from my own list of the number of journal entries posted on my site that last June 4th was a busy day. I know I have posted quite a few journal entries over the years but not 53 of them!!! I can talk and write alot but . . . . .
Trying to repair the site the guys posted over 30 test entries on my site in just a few hours! When the site recently got repaired these disappearing journal entries suddenly reappeared. I just noticied this and have spent time deleting the test items.
I would suggest that everyone go delete repetative journal/test items to cut down on the clutter.
Thanks Dan & Jon for the great work in making Urnotalone such an awesome place!!! You have proved yourselves again!
*Smiles*
~Karen~
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A TG Holiday Commentary from Nancy-Jo
Nancy-josephine Leah Morris December 26th, 2008 12:54 pm MSTSad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands?
Hell No! - Street Level where I Live is 6000 Feet!
(A TG Holiday Commentary From Nancy-Jo)
This year, just as I have for the last couple of years, I spent Christmas totally alone. Aside from one homemade decoration that a dear co-worker from my job had given me (which got broken before I could even get it home), there was no sign that this festive season had ever come upon us - especially if you went by how my apartment looked. No lights, no Christmas tree; and definitely no presents.
So no - the gaily-illuminated house behind me in some of the e-card pics I sent out (sigh), is NOT mine at all!
Was I boycotting Christmas? Did I threaten Santa with a union picket at his Toy Factory, if he were to step foot upon my roof last night? Did I go heathen - and strike Jesus’ Birthday from my calendar of events to honor? Judging by the preposterous nature of those questions, those who actually know me well would surely know that none of the above could ever be true!
It’s just that some people (like Trans-women who are also blatant Political Activists in a grossly-Conservative town), live in a personal no-man’s-land that few others are willing to walk alongside them in. Now before you dub this as some pathetic Prologue to a St. Nancy-Jo the Martyr Pity Party, please hear my point:
During the Holidays, many Trans-folk find themselves completely forgotten. More often than not, their Families of Origin would consider their sudden, unannounced and totally transformed appearance at the huge, reunion-like festive feasts commonly held at this time to be a recipe for certain emotional disaster. So the hosts of these events in many cases just lie low, conveniently do not send THAT person an invitation - and hope they don’t show up anyway, lest the Grand-kids take to asking all kinds of hard questions; and someone who may have been nursing the spiked egg nog for far too long, gets way tempted to launch into a drunken Sermon against all Queerness!
Hmmm - that’s definitely NOT the stuff which commonly passes as good ti-dings of com-fort and joy, comfort and joy...!
Other Trans-folk who blossomed later in life may likewise lose the fellowship of the very families they built, supported and eventually saw off with the help of a now ex-spouse who, despite all that, would just as soon see them dead and gone. So all the love that once used to flourish in those relationships appears now and forever to be away in a manger!
But what of excellent friends and associates? Well, a lot of them DO have families that they can and will spend quality time with during these Tradition-filled days. Many of these are strong Allies to their Transgender friends - and will be secure enough in their psyche or ego to invite that forlorn friend into their family-fest; but a lot of times, quite due to the hectic nature of the Yule Season, even they just innocently forget.
Winter sicknesses can also steal away wonderful social opportunities at local houses of worship or even bars and clubs. Actually, that was the Temporary Nemesis that kept me home, later on Christmas Eve. During such a physiological struggle, ofttimes the only visitors sure to come your way are two frumpy old girlfriends whose names are Holly Dae Loneliness followed by Lady Dee Preshun!
No matter what the reason, the net result is many times all the same - a large percentage of the Trans Community will be home alone during Christmas and/or New Years. And for some of these folks, this can lead to a potential disaster because suicide rates in all people-groups across the board (and especially within OURS), tend to ironically be highest during the holiday season.
Obviously no one can take precision steps to absolutely guarantee that anyone else will pull through a sad and lonely time this Winter. A vast portion of the responsibility lies with the person in question, themselves. But just dropping a line by e-mail, card or phone is far better than doing totally nothing to help.
So please remember your TG friends, while you enjoy your holiday season... You just might make their day, week, month or YEAR!
Lovingly,
Nancy-Jo Morris
Colorado Springs, USA
In MySpace: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=109968289
Yahoo http://360.yahoo.com/nancy_jo58
Tagged http://www.tagged.com/mypage.html?uid=12192395
URNA http://profiles.urnotalone.com/71878
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And here's another test.....
Shannon December 25th, 2008 10:32 pm MSTThis time using Firefox (Mozilla/5.0 (Macintosh; U; PPC Mac OS X Mach-O; en-US; rv:1.8.1.20) Gecko/20081217 Firefox/2.0.0.20), MacOSX 10.4.11.
The site runs far more sluggishly under Firefox, compared to Safari.
Will this work?
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This is a test!
Shannon December 25th, 2008 10:26 pm MSTThis is a test, prompted by Dan's request. Using Safari 3.04, MacOSX 10.4.11. Lets see if it works!
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Catching up
Rachelle Dubois December 21st, 2008 5:01 pm MST<!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -->
Dan says “test out the new journal”, so here I go.
For those who celebrate, Merry Christmas!
Happy New Year too.
2008 has been another OMFGosh year for ol’ Rach. Heart attack in June has created one hell of a mess. I was just getting my finances straightened out and wham...a fresh 75 grand of debt and now I am in bankruptcy. I thought this would be a blessing of sorts as I could get a fresh financial start. The very day that my attorney files in court, I get a thick envelope from the IRS.
Indeed, I was under suspicion of not quite filling out my 2007 1040 right. Well, I had paid a professional to check the boxes and fill in the numbers. Apparently I owe the feds a couple grand for errors and a little late fee stuff. So much for a fresh start.
Much like Dan, I don’t have any money lying around for extras like this, so the IRS will be keeping very close tabs on me, much like the Federal, State and Local authorities are while I am in court for being totally broke. How do you think I will fare in a Federal prison? It may very well be where I end up.
Keep an eye on the big internet auction house for nice used clothing, shoes, wigs and baubles. My Ebay ID is rachelle217. I will not be selling my breastforms.
Interestingly enough, I had one of the best years ever with work.
On the other hand, my heart attack has been magical as far as strengthening relationships with my immediate family. One of my sons moved back up from Texas to help me out with work and chores. My two sisters that do not live with me (the disabled one does live with me) have paid a little more attention to my well being, plus I may be getting back together with the mother of my youngest son.
With all that has been happening that is of extreme urgency, spending time expressing my feminine side has been far from a priority. I used to make extra efforts to spend time with the t-community and attended several of the large gathering such as Fantasia Fare and First Event. I did do First event in 2008, but will skip it for 2009. No Fan Fare in 2008. I still get myself to 100% Rachelle when circumstances allow, but I usually just go to the mall or grocery store or out to eat. No dates. I honestly do not miss the whole scene very much. I seem to be much happier spending any spare time with my children, sisters and the large number of aunts, uncles, cousins and former in-laws that I was when I spent all that time with tranny chasers and cute dressers. All fond memories and only a few regrets, but I seem to be over what I now consider a tragic mid-life crisis.
So I have very few gifts under the Christmas tree. Actually, there are none under the tree because the maturing kitten (Earl) would just shred the shiny paper off of them as he has done with the white and blue balls that no longer hang off the tree! The malicious critter is one of the best things to happen to me this year. I just love him!
So once again, another year comes to an end and I am saying I sure hope next year is better
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Equality - I spoke that word as if a Wedding Vow... Anti-Proposition 8 Rally in Colorado Springs!
Nancy-josephine Leah Morris December 21st, 2008 12:50 pm MSTMy Back Pages Revisited - November 16, 2008
Equality - I spoke that word as if a Wedding Vow...
Anti-Proposition 8 Rally in Colorado Springs!
Bob Dylan ranted about Equality (or rather, the lack thereof) over 40 years ago. Yet here we are once again having to reckon with it in a slightly different way within this Cultural War right now!
And the sad thing is that many of the very Racial Minorities whom Dylan openly advocated for in his once highly controversial Political Statement songs of the 60s, somehow deemed it necessary to vote against Equality for yet another set of Minorities over one of the very Issues and Rights that they themselves had been so wrongfully denied of, back in those bad old days!
How pathetically hypocritical !!! ...
Here are the links to some selected video clips from the Protest and Call to Action of The Impact Anti-H8 Rally here in Colorado Springs, Colorado between 11:30 am and 12:15 pm on Saturday, November 15, 2008
Proposition 8 was the Amendment to the California State Constitution that repealed Gay Marriage over there on November 4th - and many across America view that legislation as an illegitimate act of Discrimination, wrong-headed incompassion, rank Bigotry and straight-out elitist hate!
Although our Rally wasn't huge like Woodstock or anything, it was historic, in that such a thing could take place at all, in a city where 58 Far Right religious organizations (including the International Headquarters of Focus on the Family) are located!
The vids were recorded by a local member of the ACLU, I believe - and all are very short segments (shorter than your favorite song, I'm sure of it!)
The second of two speeches that I gave there (yes - I'm not afraid of Ultra-Conservative Colorado Springs) appears in Link 2 of the first 4 listed below.
~ Nancy-Jo Morris
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqpBqDtLR7c&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_JTCD9oSm8
(the Nancy-Jo Speech)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onVHXy7TDik&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zBMZxNVFKKM&feature=related
More from the
Anti-Proposition 8 Rally in Colorado Springs!
Here are some additional video links from the Protest and Call to Action of The Impact Anti-H8 Rally here in Colorado Springs, Colorado between 11:30 am and 12:15 pm on Saturday, November 15, 2008.
The first clip is a very professionally-done piece produced by CSaction which features powerful testimonials by concerned citizens and a Representative of the ACLU; the second is where Peterson Tuscano, an activist and performer from Connecticut spoke; and the third is of Argiope, a local Trans-girl who rose up to tell her story.
Who's that Blonde in purple who is almost in the way of the camera during that last speech??
It's me -
Nancy-Jo!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vwGrg9k9i7c&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXQS2dlqAJU&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gl3TmLb3Mcg&feature=related
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Merry Christmas 2008 To You All!
Karen Reeves December 20th, 2008 11:51 pm MSTHi Everyone!
It is that time of year and yesterday's/today's snowstorm just seems to add to the festive mood of Christmas. I know that getting ready for the holidays can be stressful and painful.
I enjoy all the bright lights, good cheer, parties, the presents, and Xmas dinner. But let us remember the true meaning of Xmas. It is the day that we celeberate the life of one person and the meaning of what it is to strive and have a better planet to live on.
Enjoy your holidays no matter your belief system!!!!!
*Kisses*
~Karen~
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Raleigh Nc New Year's Eve
Candace Nichole Bowen December 20th, 2008 12:43 pm MSTCum join myself and a number of friends in Raleigh, NC on New Year's Eve. Not sure just what yet, but you can rest assured we will be getting into something that night. Might as well be you.
We're staying at The Clarion on Hillsborough in uptown Raleigh. Meet upstairs in the bar around 8.
Cum join us?
Kisses...
Candi
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building down[new pic]
Candis Beach December 9th, 2008 7:49 pm MSTyupp a resent pic of me WOW, and yes i have built down to a fittnessss build , thank heaven !!!!! i feel lighter ,faster, hotter ..mabe not hot , but its less and a diffrent kinda work out...
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Saturday December 6th 2008
Candace Nichole Bowen December 1st, 2008 9:17 pm MSTAn open invitation to a party this Saturday night, December 6th in Raleigh NC. Several of my gyrlfriends and I are meeting in dtown Raleigh for a little gyrly night out. Presently 12 of us are confirmed. Cum party with us.
Yahoo e-mail is the same. E-mail me there for more details. Facial pics are required.
Kisses....
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Candace Nichole Bowen December 1st, 2008 8:46 pm MSTAs I hit the enter post entry button, I realized I had the date incorrect. The party is actually December 6th in Raleigh. Send me a Yahoo e-mail for more details. Yahoo ID is the same.
Kisses...
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Candace Nichole Bowen December 1st, 2008 8:40 pm MSTQuick note to invite you out to a party in Raleigh NC on Saturday evening November 6th. My Yahoo screen name is identical. Shoot me a Yahoo mail, and I'll share all the details.
Kisses....
Candi
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My Story (So Far)
Holly Jayne Velvet November 27th, 2008 3:42 pm MSTI've gotten a lot of requests from people wanting to know more about what makes me 'tick'. Well, here it is. I've combined all my seperate chapters from my Yahoo Blog and thrown them together in Chronological order in this post. So sit back with a nice cup of Earl Grey and learn all about yours truly. Comments are welcome, as is any feedback my friends care to share.
An Introduction from Today
While I have to live and work as a male, my true self comes out in those much-too-rare instances when I can be the woman I feel I really am. Hindered by a naturally hirsute body (which takes 2 hours to fully shave) and a stocky/chubby build (thank the Goddess for what little help foundation garments offer), I will never quite 100 percent live up to my dream, or other people's internet-influenced 'ideal' trans girl who has been hormonally and surgically enhanced to be more perfect than any real woman walking the street. I think I do pretty well however, and thanks to my supportive SO and a few supportive friends, I can at least be myself and enjoy it. Not as much as I'd like, but hopefully soon (before I'm too old to pull off the cute young fashions and slutty Goth wear...lol) I can start making it more a part of my life to enjoy without fear.
I enjoy sci-fi (STAR WARS, Battlestar Galactica, etc), ROCK music (AC/DC, Jet, Donnas, etc), horror flicks, good food, fast cars and even faster chicks, sexual experimentation/exploration (open to all fetishes, fantasies, etc) and worship the female anatomy. So no, I'm not gay. Close, but not quite.
I love cooking, shopping (I'm an eBay addict), intimate evenings indoors, fishing and the occasional Playstation game. I play the guitar and sing, although it looks a little awkward seeing a 'big girl' playing like Angus Young and singing like Bon Scott. Music is a backburner passion, and I wish the local music scene here didn't blow buffalos, so I could take one last stab at a music career before I'm too old to be cool.
I am married to a wonderful girl, who tries to understand me. Doesn't always, but lord knows she tries. And fares okay. We have our uncomfortable moments when I get overtly self-conscious about something to do with my crossdressing, or when she thinks I'm calling her stupid when she makes a mistake, but overall I couldn't ask for a better situation. I have an ADHD-afflicted Dachschund mix, a decent home, nice car and stable job. Not to mention a helluva' great little boy! Aside from wishing I could live 24/7 as-female (and minus some debt, of course), I have it pretty good. Now onto the backstory that brought me here...
The Early Years
I feel like I've told this story a zillion times. Although in actuality I have probably went through it only a handful of times. Regardless, here I go again, but this time I was smart enough to publish it here so in the future I can refer to my blog, or copy-n-paste it into any future documents.
One thing I've found in my personal journey so far is that people, no matter from what background, orientation or ethical position, seem to all share the question of "what makes a 'normal' boy decide he wants to dress like a girl?" Most on the far left often utter things to the effect of it is one's predetermined orientation from pre-birth, or that some people simply evolve naturally into transgenderism. Then you have the right-wing fanatics who believe (regardless of sexual orientation otherwise or any other factor) that we transgender folks, be ye a simple weekend crossdresser, gawdy drag-queen or a full-out post operative transsexual, are abominations unto the Lord and humanity itself. I prefer to take a more enlightened stance on the issue, simply saying "we are". Nothing more, nothing less. We simply are.
The magic in it all for me, is in the dichotomy of it all (but maybe that's the Gemini peeking out from around the corner). I truly feel that when I am wearing female attire, I am Holly, and she is wise, witty, powerful and confident. She doesn't care that she's not a size 8, and could care less if you are a social retard and can't accept her for who and what she is. When I am not Holly, I am shy, self-conscious, clumsy and unhappy with my appearance. I know I am the same person regardless of what I'm wearing, but sometimes I think it's about presentation. What I've learned in my years of searching is that sometimes our own perceptions get clouded by others' take on things. I still struggle daily to simply get over it and to be proud of who I am. I want so badly to ENJOY being Holly before I'm too old to do it and enjoy it the way I feel I should. I'm almost there. But it's taken a long time, and has been an interesting journey so far.
I came into this world in the summer of 1976 like any other kid. Well, I was a breach baby and my mother had to be cut to get me out, but otherwise a typical 8lb and some change baby boy. We had a dog of German Shephard and Labrador mix named Banacek (after the TV detective played by George Peppard), and a cat named Tiger. We lived in a singlewide mobile home in a quiet, clean little mobile home park on the outside of the downtown area of the ever-expanding city of Greenville, SC.
My early years were spent for the most part with my aunt or my mom at home while Dad was at work. I spent many hours playing, drawing and sneaking away to the neighbors' house, basically a normal kid growing up in a normal place doing normal things.
Somewhere along the line like all kids do at some point I decided it'd be fun to raid a closet and put on clothes. But not my dad's. His stuff was boring and mundane. Mom's however proved to be more versatile, exciting, and that's where I went. She worked on and off as a nurse, so one of the first memories I have of crossdressing are wearing Mom's white hose, nursing shoes, and a white scrub/smock. What a bummer it was when around 4:30pm she said something like "ok, your daddy's going to be home soon, we need to get you out of those clothes." That was my first hint that even though in a way my mother was encouraging my creativity, there was still the fear of my dad thinking something was wrong with me or whatever, which still haunts me to this day.
There was a period between then and when my mother got pregnant with my sister where I was being watched by my great aunt while my mom worked at a chiropractor's office. When that was going on, I pretty much kept myself occupied like most 'normal' little boys at the time, playing with Play Doh and Star Wars figures, crashing toy cars together and climbing around on trees. Coincidentally, my uncle had recently taken me to see the new Star Wars sequel, The Empire Strikes Back and that was going to play a big role in my imaginative development (as well as my addiction for collecting Star Wars toys, which to this day is a source of debt for me). It was fun, but I still felt incomplete.
During my mom's pregnancy, I spent a lot of time at my grandma's house. My grandmother too, allowed my free run of her clothing, and I think that's when I started developing quite the hosiery fetish. Pantyhose soon became my #1 focus, and then I'd worry about the other stuff. Even at that age I remember seeing hose on a lady's legs and just wanting to stroke them. I loved the feel of them, whether on me or someone else. This only went on for a couple years on and off, but remain some of the only fond memories I have for my grandmother.
I would find out around age 10 that part of my grandmother's (and mom's) acceptance and encouragement regarding crossdressing dated back to my great-uncle (grandma's kid brother, not much older than my mom), who as a child was often dressed up as a little girl by my great-grandmother as kind of a control thing, until he was a teenager. He (and a neighbor's kid who also dressed for fun as a little girl) would often prance about the neighborhood in drag, and I'm not so sure my great-grandmother (who I've also discovered in recent years was borderline psychotic and a tad bit of a whore considering my great aunt was NOT fathered by great grandfather like my uncle and my grandmother) didn't get some kinky pleasure out of it. Of course these memories make it exceedingly hard to avoid disturbing mental images of my great-grandma in Dominatrix gear, peeing on some strange man or something.
I remember when I was about 7 Dad took my sister and I to see Return of the Jedi, the last of the original Star Wars trilogy. I was at this time heavy into Star Wars, GI JOE, He Man, Transformers (ironic, eh?) and a few oddball Anime shows like Tranzor Z. My friend Steven and I drew cars, my friend Brunson and I played army and overall I was a typical 3rd grader. At least on the outside.
From about age 6 to 10 where I literally had almost no contact with crossdressing, aside from simply stashing a pair of hose in the very back of one of my drawers for comfort. Then one rainy teachers work day when my sister (now about 6 herself) and I were bored out of our minds and my mom out of the blue suggested we play dress up. I tried to not jump for joy, but was nonetheless enthusiastic. What made this particularly fun on that occasion was it would be the first time ever I got to go all the way with a wig, makeup, underwear, the works. I filled balloons with water to fill the bra, slid on some suntan pantyhose and began my transformation, Mom of course doing our makeup. I think that was the day that I decided one day I would in some capacity or another spend a lot of time in drag.
I would have one more chance soon thereafter to enjoy a little bit of exploration while at my rich aunt's place one June afternoon the following year, when I happened upon a very interesting shade of pantyhose still new in the package sticking out of the top of one of her dresser drawers. To this day I can't find another pair in a close enough color. It was kind of a nude, with a very slight mocha and pink hue. Very subtle, soft and sensual, and I will not rest til I find some in that shade. Anyhow, I found myself carefully opening them and sliding off to the bathroom to try them on. Perfect fit. Unfortunately guilt got the best of me and I strategically repackaged them and placed them back where I got them for fear of getting into trouble of some sort.
It would be a few years before I would really have the opportunity to dress up again, but when the opportunity came I was more than ready.
Auntie's Closet
I spent my early teens as an outcast. An artist at first, but around the latter part of age 15 I heard AC/DC's Thunderstruck and decided I wanted to play guitar. So I switched from visual arts to learning how to annihilate people with 3-chord attacks on my guitar. The first year, I honestly didn't even try to learn anything. Goofed around, and enjoyed posing with the guitar, but nothing productive. It would be actually a couple more years before I got serious on the guitar, but in the meantime I had other things going on.
The day before my 16th birthday, my parents (for reasons still not entirely known) got into a huge argument and my mom, sis and I left. We were to spend that summer vacation hopping back and forth between my grandmother's 2 bedroom singlewide mobile home and the aforementioned rich aunt's lavish 4 bedroom (for 2 adults, no kids) home. It was a trying time on many fronts, including the fact that I really blew it with a girl who was totally into me at the time. Her name was Shelly, and if she walked into my life today I'd spill my guts about how stupid I was and how I felt about her. Instead I spent some of the summer stuck on a snotty, whiny little bitch who couldn't even tell her mom she was in a relationship, and the rest of the summer was spent trying hard not to be too interested in Shelly's friend Elizabeth, who in retrospect I should've been a better friend to and shoulda' given she and I a serious chance (she was so smart, and so funny, I miss her). If they ever read this and figure out who I am, I hope they know I'm sorry and would do anything to make it up to them. Anything.
During this time I took up with my older cousin, who ran a music store and offered for me to come help out. I could earn some credit towards some gear, so I was enthused. Especially when a couple weeks into it, he was offered a show at a local wing-bar but needed a bass player. I had, of course, hardly ever even touched a bass, much less learned any songs, but I jumped at the opportunity. So that Thursday night I found myself with him and the drummer, working on a few hours worth of material for what would end up as a 2-night gig. It was fun, and although my fingers literally bled when I was done, it was the best thing that could've happened to me musically. The crowd's applause quickly quelled my stagefright, and the encouragement from the other 2 musicians would fuel my fire for years to come. My mother wasn't too happy with me playing in a bar (for fear my father would find out and use that tidbit of information against her somehow), but it went well, and I made my first serious money that weekend. Also for years after that my cousin and I would occasionally hook up musically and do similar shows, until he became a born again Christian around 2000 and basically tossed rock music away.
About 2/3 through the summer I found out that my aunt (my mom's rich sister) and uncle would be leaving town for 5 days and wanted me to house-sit for them. Knowing this aunt was also kind of a clothes-whore -and I had took peeks in the past with much envy at her wardrobe- I saw this as an opportunity for exploration and I gladly accepted. I stayed there the night prior to their departure and had a normal breakfast with them. Then I hugged them goodbye and watched intently until their car pulled onto the main road and disappeared. I locked the doors and shot like a bullet back to the master bedroom (at the time my uncle had his own bedroom due to his disabilities) and flung the door to my aunt's giant walk-in closet open. At that point my aunt had a few extra pounds on her and we were about the same size all 'round, including shoe size. How cool was that? A closet stocked to the brim and 9 out of 10 items would fit me. I sorted through and picked out a nice black pinstriped short skirt suit and matching black 3" pumps. As I turned around something caught my eye up in the back corner of the closet which I wasn't even sure would be an option: a WIG. Sure enough, a dark brown page-cut shoulder length wig, which although wasn't my natural color by any means, it would most definitely work. So it came down into my eager hands.
I had my outfit picked out and struck gold finding the wig, so now it was time to pick out the most important (and my favorite) part of the ensemble, the intimates. I already knew which drawer was where she kept her hosiery, so I reached in and pulled out a nice pair of black thigh-high stockings. They were the kind with a high lycra content, so they're more durable, they tend to hide blemishes better, and they just feel super slick. Next I grabbed a pair of black panties (a high-cut design with a little bit of control), and to my surprise found a black longline-bra/bustier with garters. It was a size 38C, but it would do the trick I thought. I also reached into her jewelry stash and picked out a necklace, a couple rings, a bracelet, and then a pair of dangly earrings-thank goodness my aunt wears clipons, because this was before I had gotten my ears pierced. My clothing was laid out, now all I had to do was prepare me.
I ran a hot bath and immersed myself in it. After about 20 minutes of soaking in the lilac bath oil I started shaving myself. Now, I am a cursed beast. The hair on my head is naturally frizzy and thin, but it seems from the nose down I am literally covered-I'm talking Planet of the Apes, y'all-in coarse dark hair. Even to this day the total shaving procedure takes me over an hour. So that day I spent a good hour and a half ridding my body of hair. It was a cool experience. Never did my skin feel so alive as when I felt my thighs rub together hairless for the first time. I toweled off, and then went to the sink and shaved my face as well.
Thanks to the fact that my aunt and I share a fair complexion and blue eyes, her makeup worked on me fairly well, although I learned quickly that men have to strategically double-up on foundation. Using a couple of fashion magazines she had lying around as a photographic guide to placement and techniques, I found myself easily putting my eyeshadows, mascara, eyeliner and blush into place without a problem. Lip color would prove a little more tedious, but it too went well and I stared at myself in amazement at how much a difference I made. Never could I have imagined being so passable, and I still hadn't put the wig on. I sprayed my entire body with my aunt's favorite perfume (one which had a very sensual touch of jasmine) and was now ready to finish the transformation and enjoy myself as a girl.
I felt a combination of nervous anxiety and intense arousal as I slid the stockings onto my legs and reached for the panties. I then came to a profound conclusion: put the panties on AFTER you connect the garters, for ease of going to the bathroom, whatever. I put on the bustier and connected the garters; they were the kind of stockings that didn't require garters, but come on, nothing looks as sexy as those strips holding that lacy top up, so I did it anyway. Then I eased on the panties, taking note to kind of tuck all my boy parts accordingly, and then put on the wig. I combed out a couple of messed up parts in the wig, put on the pumps and walked over to the full-length mirror to look at what I'd created. Since the bustier wasn't a perfect fit (but then again, none will ever fit perfectly) there was a little out of placed meat here and there, but overall I was elated and very impressed that I'd done it. I then put on the accessories I'd picked out and put on the skirt suit, and when I was done I almost cried. I finally acheived a level of self-expression I'd longed for all these years.
I spent half the day in that sulrty-secretary look, even making a brave trip to the mail box just as the mailman was pulling away. No weird looks meant he didn't notice anything weird about the woman who was going to the box, and that made me feel like I'd accomplished something great. That night I would slip into a sexy little white teddy my aunt had, along with a pair of white thigh-highs, and drift off to sleep in ecstasy.
In the coming days I would experiment with various 'looks', from the office hottie to the soccer mom to the gothic temptress and the trashy slut. I also got more and more brave, and by the 4th day, I decided I'd walk the dog through the neighborhood. Now this was no daredevil tactic, because most of the folks were at work. But a few stragglers might get a glimpse, and that was kind of what I'd hoped for. So I pulled out a pair of nude pantyhose, a flowing multicolor crinkle skirt, a thin maroon 3/4 sleeve top and a pair of sensible matching low heel shoes and made my way down the street. Two cars passed without incident, and I'm sure one lady got a look taking out the trash. My head was swelling that I was able to halfway fool people. By the fifth and final day of this experience I was saddened because I knew this was the end of my adventure. I still look back on it fondly and remember that had it not been for that time I would've probably not turned out the way I did, and certainly would've been delayed in my development. I mean, from some points of view I still AM behind, but it would've been a lot further hindered.
My Life as a Teen Tranny
Oh, high school...
That time when we become who we will be for the rest of our lives. Following the summer of failed Shelly and forgotten Elizabeth, I had a pretty rough Junior year. I won't even bother mentioning much about my doomed quasi-romance with some wannabe-goth bitch who basically blew me off because she was a whore. A whore who would do God knows what with God knows whom, but who managed to avoid me, keep our relationship 'secret' and eventually started hanging out with some of MY friends in an effort to get my goat. It worked, and damn her. Moving on though.
Although I felt a little more complete as an individual after the summer of self-discovery, I was now surpressed now by my father's newfound "born-again" Christianity. He and Mom reconciled, but the union would never quite be without its flaws. One thing that added even MORE tension to an already puberty-induced tough relationship was his new stance on faith. Now, I personally have no problems with ANY religion. I've known people who are Catholic, Jewish, Pagan/Wiccan, Buddhist, Muslim, Satanist and Atheist, and I never let their religious views bother me. That is, unless they bothered me with their religious views. Southern 'born again' Baptists are one of the top 5 worst when it comes to self-righteousness, closed-mindedness and ignorance. Maybe not as bad as the Jehova's Witnesses or the snakehandlers, but bad enough. Around this time my kid sister and I were expected at church on Sundays to hear how evil we are and how we're going to Hell unless we pay tithes, fall to our knees in front of the preacher and use Jesus' name in every fucking sentence. No way. I won't even go into detail about some of the hypocritical borderline white trash that attended the church, but I knew from day one it was not conducive to my healthy growth as a socially-adept person. Eventually my father was kind of 'suggested' that I maybe ought not come, especially after two occasions when I didn't agree with the program and made a spectacle of myself. One being when I refused to sign a petition regarding banning abortion, and the other when I literally fell in the floor in tears of laughter when the church was featuring one of those crazy fanatical families where the 5 and 6 year old kids are getting redfaced, yelling and screaming Bible verses at the adults. So until then I was forced every week to listen to the fire and brimstone threats of a minister who was a dead-ringer for Robbie DeNeiro. That was a rather uneventful year other than the riot my band started during the Spring Fling Battle of the Bands at school, when we found ourselves inciting a 300 person moshpit during our first two songs, and the administration pulling the plug on our third and last song in mid 2nd verse ("Anarchy in the UK" by the Sex Pistols). I lived, breathed, ate, shat and sweat punk during those days, so I consider that event a crowning victory, as much on a personal level as it was a victory over those suburban yuppie hippie-wannabes playing their Pink Floyd and Pearl Jam covers opposite stage as us.
My Senior year of high school I finally formed a decent original band with classmates, and we were asked to play for a Halloween party in the small town of Central. We worked up a little 3-part set and were ready to go, except our costumes. It was determined that we would do three costume changes, the last of which we would all be donning KISS makeup. The other two times I saw as an opportune chance to dress en-femme. Which I did, shocking friends and strangers alike, especially during my (at the time rare) vocal turn on Danzig's "Twist of Cain". It was a small accomplishment, but an accomplishment nonetheless and I was tickled to get to do it. I even had some risque photos taken with one of my best friends simulating sex acts in the master bathroom. He still has those pictures. The band, however, broke up not long after because of the singer and rhythm guitarist causing problems with their respective addictions and drama.
Two years after graduating I got yet another chance to perform in drag, when my new band (which coincidentally included 2 guys from the last one) performed at a Halloween benefit for our old school. We all dressed as prissy French maids and put on a great show, but that too would be my last chance to enjoy it for a while. But enjoy it I did.
Then it was time to really grow up...
Coming of Age
As I became the responsible adult around 19 years old, I grew more and more certain that I couldn't keep surpressing my need to express my feminine side. At the time I was seeing a girl my age named Maria who knew nothing about my chosen lifestyle, and other than seeing me in maid-drag at the benefit show, she wasn't exposed to it. We had our good times occasionally, as well as a decent sexual relationship, but she was severely unbalanced and by November of '96 she had left in the middle of the night to move back with her folks in Florida after I denied her request to move in with me and my parents. I would become the father of a little boy the following year, although circumstances surrounding his conception were at the time unknown. I would find out years later that one of my supposed friends was up here checking in on me from time to time, keeping her up to date on my life. He also happened to be the same asshole who got the bright idea to tell her if she were to purposely let herself get pregnant by "forgetting" to take her birth control pills, I would stand up and do the right thing and marry her. Something went wrong somewhere, and I would later find out she wasn't 100 percent sure the child was mine even. Also my "friend" whose idea it all was did so as revenge for me not covering for him when he was cheating on his wife, resulting in his getting caught. At the time however, I just thought I had been left and I quickly (and recklessly) moved on to date a woman 5 years older than me named Dorothy who had her own emotional baggage as well as two children by two different fathers (one was a convicted pedophile, the other a convicted violent criminal). The sad thing now is that I bonded really close to her older child, a 7 year old boy who was beat down and misunderstood. The little girl however, was the devil incarnate, and I know now where she got it from. Dorothy was the quintessential redneck woman, with a CB radio to talk shit to truckers, a smoking habit, big hair and a grating drawl that could peel the asphalt off the road. We met on a dating service, and although we lived an hour apart, I faithfully trekked up to her town every Friday evening or Saturday morning until Sunday night. We fought a lot, and I know if I'd have ever divulged any of my transgender issues to her she would've ridiculed me and probably dumped me. Which is why I was practically looking for an excuse to get out of the relationship the last couple months we were together. In fact, there was a new light in my life of darkness by the name of Michelle who wandered into the nursing facility where I was business manager & human relations to put in an application in April of 1997. She was only 17 (okay, all you Winger fans, pipe down), but mature as hell, and I found her striking in a plain-Jane, girl next door kind of way. Throughout the next few weeks we would talk a lot, and flirt a little, and I would occasionally drive her home after her shift. It helped me forget about the bad times with Dorothy. When Dorothy and I got along, we were great, and the intimacy was pretty good too (especially when we 'accidentally' discovered she liked anal sex), but nothing could save such a mismatched partnership, particularly when she expected me to practically be her kids' father, yet I couldn't so much as put one of them in time-out if they did wrong. I took a 'break' the last week of June '97 from the relationship, and on the morning of the last Saturday in the month my father passed away in his sleep. I like to think he stuck around long enough to make sure I got out of that miserable relationship, as he'd been on my case to leave her since all we did was fight. Michelle and I had actually went out the previous two nights, and the creepy part is that the night prior to Dad's passing, I decided to ask Michelle to be my girlfriend and she'd said yes. So in some strange metaphysical way, could my father have known all would be well and he let himself go? I called Dorothy to tell her the news, and she was nonplussed, quite the bitch in fact. It didn't bother her enough to keep her from going to her favorite internet chatroom and doing her regular late-night activity of discussing sex with other men.
Michelle was by my side during this rough spot in my life, even the day I got so drunk I couldn't stand (and still can't entirely remember). My best friend and soul-brother Shane was out of the country and I literally had no friends to turn to. But she was there. And on July 3rd I called Dorothy one last time, to tell her I was through thinking and was bailing out while I had the chance. I told her I knew of her conversations (and possible infidelities), and was fed up. She seemed hurt and wanted to reconcile at first, but as I stood my ground she let the White Trash show through and I ended the conversation with a hearty "Fuck you" and hung up. We would never speak again, and that was fine with me. I have been with Michelle ever since. But one of the hardest things I've ever done was when I told her about myself as a crossdresser.
How does one 'come out' to their significant other? That's up next...
Honey, I've Got Something to Tell You...
Having conversed with or read about literally hundreds of crossdressers, the most common flaw I find is their apparent shame in who they are. The majority literally NEVER tell their significant other (SO) about their activities. It's bad enough when it's your girlfriend, boyfriend, whatever, but I cannot imagine marrying someone and not telling them the whole truth. That is so wrong, on so many levels. If you are that ashamed of who and what you are that you won't tell the one person you're SUPPOSED to tell things like this to, then in this girl's eyes you aren't worth your weight in manure. Quit dressing, forever, and don't look back. No, it isn't easy coming out and telling your partner you're a crossdresser, or transgendered. It's damned hard! But if you can't do it for fear of embarrassment, you aren't worthy to wear that skirt. And if it's fear the other person will leave you, then the relationship isn't worth keeping anyway. If someone can't love you for you, then THEY are useless. It is your responsibility and your duty to not keep this part of your life a secret. I am calling you to your face a coward if you cannot tell the love of your life your needs and desires. That kind of deceit and secrecy negates ANY positive aspects you may possess as a human being. I have no respect for anyone who keeps ANY characteristic closeted, having overcome and triumphed my own fears I have the right to feel this way and to condemn people who refuse to be held accountable.
It was about 9 months into my relationship with Michelle when I decided she needed to know about my "other self". She had seen me perform with my band that Halloween in drag, but had thought I just took my art seriously and was doing it for the sake of performance only. I had to tell her now that things were really getting serious between us. So I told her ahead of time I needed her to be openminded and that there was a VERY important subject I wanted to discuss with her. I printed out about a dozen different articles on crossdressing, as well as a few testimonials from significant others, and lastly, I printed a few photos I'd taken with my digital camera from work of me in drag as proof that it wasn't a sick joke, nor was I some horrid looking hairy, outrageous drag beast-clown. That night she sat down and I handed her the documentation and left her alone, telling her when she's through she could come get me in the other room and we'd discuss it. It was about 45 minutes later when she called me back into the room, and I saw she had been crying. Actually partially it was tears of relief because she'd thought I was going to tell her I was cheating on her, or was gay and leaving her. She had a hard time grasping it all, but I answered all her questions, eased her concerns and within 2 hours we were closer than ever.
The following June we ventured down to Athens, GA for vacation, and she had told me to bring an outfit so she could see me in drag truly the way I wanted to be seen. We had a wonderful playtime, and she even started getting into it. To this day, she enjoys playing with me as a girl as much as when I'm normal old 'boy' me, and that's a true accomplishment I feel. Acceptance. Sure, I still have a little bit of leftover heebie-jeebies from past relationships and rejections that make me uncomfortable and a little anxious sometimes, but it's all in my head. Michelle has offered me total love and understanding, and I couldn't ask for more.
Telling your significant other is essential, for YOUR health and for the sake of a healthy relationship. If you're one of those dumbasses who waited til after you were married (or in some cases have grown children and your wife STILL doesn't know), then shame on you. You should not be ashamed of your affinity to wearing feminine clothing, you should be ashamed because you are a dirty, filthy, poopoo liar and lower than low. You can redeem yourself and be a good person again, not a year from now, or even a month, but in a week or less. No one is saying it'll be easy, but unless you're a lazy clod or just an immoral shithead you can do it as easy as the next guy. It sounds harsh, but if you fear your marriage or long term relationship will fall apart if he/she discovers your 'other side', then your relationship is worthless to begin with and apparently not sincere. Why do you want to hold onto something that will crumble under pressure within? If your partner truly loves you, they will accept it. They may not like it, they don't have to like it, but they will accept it. If they can't or WON'T accept it, then your relationship was a farce to begin with and you should be thrilled to rid yourself of it so you can start anew and be HONEST with the next person you bring into your life. And if you truly love them, you have to be honest about this. I have saved all my information so if anyone reads this and wants to break it to their SO, I will gladly send you the information to ease the process. It will be a huge step for you. After all, to be a woman, you have to step up and be a man.
Next up...being honest with your SO is one thing. What about being honest with YOURSELF?
Exploration & Experimentation
Let's face it, to truly find yourself, you have to go looking. Occasionally you're hit with some "duh" moments and they stick. Like my first girlfriend ever was a fat girl. For some reason, even though I appreciate and adore women of all sizes, I still find myself drawn to & drooling over heavier women. More curves, more skin, more softness...gotta' love it. But there was something else I wanted to experience back several years ago: a transsexual. Going back in between the 'normal' problems and other things I've discussed thusfar, I'll start filling in the previously-untold gaps...
My first transsexual experience was a simple accident. I went to a high school party, got introduced to a girl and oddly enough this hot little punk chick was making out with me. Of course I found out after the fact that she was a he, and he had moved back with his parents out of state. I wish that weren't the case, because I would've taken 'her' home to meet the parents, she was that passable. From that point on, I knew not only was I transgendered, but I was attracted to them as well.
Next up was Beverly, a local woman who worked at a hair salon owned by her former lover. She was 40 years old (20 years my senior), but was two things I loved in one. First she was a chunky-built woman with a nice round butt and huge breasts, secondly, she was a pre-opt transsexual. We connected on many levels, and even got as far as mutual oral sex, and I wish I'd done more with her. She was classy, sensual and intelligent. But I pissed her off and never heard from her again.
Then there was Audrey, a Wiccan transsexual who'd been living as a woman for several years. We were very compatible and I fell in love with her. I was honored enough even to be able to fully make love to her. It was my first all-the-way experience with a TS, and it was a dream come true. Our bliss would also be shortlived, and when she tried to reconnect with me later, my girlfriend at the time let her have it, so I've not heard from her since. I would love to try to get her in with Michelle and I for some creative fun.
My last actual transgender experience was Dominating a middle-aged crossdresser named Ros. Ros performed oral on me very well, and was eager and willing to provide me with mouth-to-ass stimulation as well (one of my favorite activities), but that would prove to be a one-time-only event due to scheduling conflicts and because she was too closeted, particularly with her wife.
I won't go too far into my last gender-confusion experience. A lesbian fell in love with me. Yes, a lesbian. Thanks to the fact that her elitist gay-only friends couldn't deal with the idea of their lesbian friend dating a genetic male (regardless of the fact that I was more feminine than ANY of them on a good day) and the fact that she herself was seperated (not yet divorced) from her ex-husband, it was shortlived, drama-filled and I'd like to forget it ever happened. OK, that's not entirely true (and if you're reading this, you know who you are), that maybe is a little more harsh than I should be. Let's just say I wish that some circumstances and a few behavioral conflicts could've been a little different, I'm sure things would've worked out in some way. So I have to apologize for saying things like I'd wished it would've never happened. That's not the whole truth.
My goal now is twofold. I am not 'gay' in the sense that I don't generally find men attractive. Trans-girls, hell yeah, but guys, nope. However, I have thought of the idea of having one good romantic encounter with a man who will treat me 100s a woman and allow me to make love as a female. Secondly, I'd love to find a passable pre-/no-opt transsexual to join Michelle and me in the bedroom, or a really freaky thick chick. I think then I'd be fully fulfilled sexually. Til then, Michelle's FeelDoe (a strapless strapon dildo, check them out, girls!) will have to do.
I've been asked where I get all my clothing...well, my ever-deepening Mastercard debt tells the story.
The eBay Addict
All too often I get asked by other t-girls (most notably ones who share my larger silhouette), "where did you get that outfit" or "where did you buy those shoes"? While I actually get my clothing from a variety of places, ranging from the clearance rack at Wal Mart to the occasional splurge at a fetish boutique online, probably 80r better of my wardrobe is courtesy of, yep, you guessed it: eBay.
In fact, www.ebay.com is my start page when I sign on. I'm usually about 90appy with purchases, the exceptions being when I foolishly don't ask measurements or items aren't quite properly described. I highly recommend that you form relationships with eBay shops or regular listers, because you'd be surprised how much cool swag you can obtain. Unfortunately, my credit card bills are immense, but I have 4 times as much female clothing as male clothing, and a very enviable shoe and boot collection.
The pros to eBay shopping are the anonymity (if that's important to you), the variety and often you can get steals on high-end desirables. Of course you also have the possibility of paying way too much for items if you don't restrain yourself. Guilty here. And the big pisser about eBay is being outdbid in the last 20 seconds by some worthless goddamned bid-sniper who obviously has nothing better to do than watch their auctions. What makes it particularly infuriating is when you go for days and days as the high bidder with no competition, and then in those final moments all of a sudden the heat is on. I curse bid snipers from my heart, and I find myself even sometimes finding other auctions snipers who get me are bidding on and I raise the price on all their auctions, at least ensuring some justice. And maybe pissing them off half as much as they pissed me off.
Just watch that checkbook and credit card statement or you'll find yourself in the hole like me!
Up next, the marvelous world of fetishes...
Fetishes, Fetishes and MORE Fetishes
That's right, slave, lick those boots...
I always worshipped the female anatomy. From long legs and smooth feet to round butts, soft tummies and nice boobs, I was obsessed. When with a woman, I always placed her pleasure first, and there is no spot on a woman's body I won't lick, kiss and suck. I guess you could say I have a female fetish, enjoying on many levels every square centimeter of a lady's body.
Not long after I started being able to really enjoy exploring my femininity, I became obsessed with the works of Bettie Page. The Yeager and Klaw sessions produced some really cool extreme photos of Miss Page being tied up, spanked, gagged, racked, stretched, humiliated and in some photos SHE was the Dominant in charge. I fell in love with her instantly, and keep a picture of her in her leather dress, knee-high boots and stockings (whip in hand) in my wallet. I decided this was an area I wanted to get into myself.
At first, I dabbled around with the idea that I would be a submissive. Although I was lucky to be under a patient Dominant for a short while and enjoyed serving, I soon came to the realization that I wanted to be the Dominant one. So from that point forward I've been quite the trans-Dominatrix when with someone who is into the BDSM lifestyle.
Without divulging the gory details of just how much of a disgusting freak I am, let's just say that in my journey I've discovered there are only 4 or 5 things I WON'T get into. Everything else, good or bad, I can dig.
Next: Some basic info about me currently.
Me...Today
After going through all these adventures and journeys, WHO AM I TODAY? Good question.
Well, I am obviously a disenfranchised father, a husband, a strong uncle, a musician, an artist, a blue-collar worker and a sci-fi geek. If you saw me out of drag, you'd never recognize me. I am in every way a regular, ugly average joe until the makeup goes on and the skirt is in place. I drive a fast little car, play Battlefront II on my PS2, build diorama displays for my collectibles, enjoy cooking and like to dabble in home recording.
I feel that my local music scene sucks, mainly due to the fact that the few decent venues in town don't really care about local bands--that's not entirely true, the "best" place in Greenville for bands to really set up on a real stage only caters to the local bands under the wing of a local twerp whose only claim to fame is an old association with Hootie & the Blowfish (Remember them? Didn't think so.), who only cares about the immediate cashflow instead of QUALITY, LONGSTANDING acts who actually do their own thing. I don't know why the owners of said establishment chose to let this dickhead weild the scepter over struggling local bands, but it really put most of us out in the cold. If you don't have your kneepads on and ready to kiss this schmuck's ass, forget about your band ever getting a show there, whether it be an opening gig or an actual headlining show. Unless of course, you're willing to PAY him. And there are some groups there who do just that. Lest I forget if you're willing to be a contestant in their FIXED battle of the bands events (my old band got royally shafted because the winning band got their winning handful of votes because the band members UNDERAGED kids got to 'vote'), then of course you're perfectly accepted as a cash-magnet so that doucher can avoid a day job a few months longer. I'd love to own, or be a part somehow of, a bar or soundroom that caters to ORIGINAL bands. Better yet, I may just whip out this Tascam PC interface and start trying to feverishly whore my tunes on the 'net, as that seems to be the way to get noticed recently.
I hate my dipshit ex brother in law (my sister's soon to be ex), and my surviving brother-in-law on my wife's side (the younger of her two brothers). I hate my ex's. All of them. They're EX'S for a reason, and any dumbass who still hangs out with, is friends with or has ANY dealings with an ex is a retard. I hate most of my friends (I mean, "friends" with the little quotes) who basically showed me that I had served my purpose and now you all want little to nothing to do with me. I went from having a cool little circle of a half a dozen or so friends to having NONE. Luckily I met my best friend of almost a decade shortly thereafter, as well as my wife's brother, so I can at least say I have a couple real friends around. But when you realize all the time wasted on losers in the past, it eats you alive. I hate chatters, cyberers and other online addicts who clutter up my email and instant messenger with absurd lewd requests. I hate coconut. I detest mayonnaise. I hate our current presidential administration and I can barely stand my dog. I hate American Idol and anything or anyone who has anything to do with it (real musicians don't respect KAROAKE SINGERS). I hate ignorance. Prejudice & having higher standards isn't necessarily ignorant bigotry. Sometimes it's well earned. Ask Bill Cosby, or Reverend Jesse Lee Peterson . I hate rednecks, NASCAR, modern country music and Lynyrd Skynyrd. I hate thugs, "gangstas" and modern rap/hip-hop. Even worse, I hate white people who pretend to be from the ghetto. Take it from someone who actually lived in one at a stage in their life, you are a pussy and wouldn't last 10 minutes in the real 'hood. Pull up your pants, turn your hat straight and speak English, or don't bitch when someone thinks you're clown shoes. I hate when halfassed musicians and halfassed rappers find a halfassed DJ and call it "rapcore" or "Nu-metal". Give me a REAL band and a REAL rapper and call it a crossover act any day (listen to the Judgement Night soundtrack, or the Run DMC/Aerosmith version of "Walk this Way" and you'll see what I mean). I hate fakeassed suburban punk-wannabes. If your mommy drives a Benz or you live in an upscale neighborhood, I don't want you to tell me how miserable or misunderstood you are. With your $80 Hot Topic jeans, your reproduction Ramones tee and your multiple piercings, your lifestyle negates your integrity as a 'punk'. Metallica sucks. They used to not, but along with the death of Cliff Burton and the drought of Mustaine's old leftover riffs and ideas, MeCRAPpica needs to call it quits. I hate people who spend more money on their cars than sensible folks do on their homes. I'm looking at all you "Fast and Furious" mooks here. Just because you slap a huge, uglyass spolier, plastic body kits, fucked up paint scheme and a loud stereo (by the way,thanks for riding through my neighborhood at 4AM pumping out that pure bass-driven SHIT, I appreciate it) doesn't make your Honda or Neon anything more than a family car with a bunch of plastic and fluff. I don't care if your Civic has N0S boosters, it's still a mom-mobile with a loser at the wheel. And dudes, let's face it, if your car can't clear a speedbump or railroad tracks, or you're so bogged down with bullshit sound equipment your buddies can't comfortably ride with you (or the underaged girls who gravitate to people who drive said cars...but come to think of it, most of the time it's always a couple of guys riding together, so what does THAT mean?), then what's the use? Really. Same goes for you 80's and 90's Mustang (or as I call them POONstangs) drivers. Do you REALLY have to try to rev it up and race every damned car you get up to the stoplight beside? I really want one of the new retro-look Mustangs (2006, racing stripes, Pony package V-6 is fine with me), but I don't know if I can handle that penile-compensation stigma that you retards have associated with that type of car. Maybe I'll just hold on for the new Camaro in a year. I hate hearing black Americans refer to themselves as "African Americans" (as if it entitles privilege or something), but when I say I am a Scottish-American I get the shit-eye. If you were born here in the good ol' USA, you are an AMERICAN. Period. Get the fuck over it. You want to escape seperation, segregation, racial profiling and prejudice, start within. White, black, yellow, red or tan, if you were born in this country, refuse to check off the race blanks on job/credit/etc applications, and write in AMERICAN. Then you are truly uncatagorized and free. If you don't, then keep your bitching to a minimum. I hate reparation-activists. My ancestors were poor and never owned any slaves of any race, so I don't owe anyone anything. And I don't know anyone around today who was ever enslaved (other than by pimps, drug dealers or abusive relationships), so I don't think anyone else owes anyone for bad decisions made hundreds of years ago. And if the GOVERNMENT is the 'daddy' (aka: PROVIDER) of the family, you are not a MAN. I hate morning talk shows on rock radio stations. I hate when I go to Wal Mart or Home Depot and they have 20 checkout lanes, but only 3 open. I hate lazy fucks who will drive around a store parking lot for a half hour waiting on a close parking space rather than taking one less than a dozen spaces out and walking for 2 minutes. Even worse, I hate those same folks using the electric carts designated for DISABLED folks so your ever-increasingly large ass can avoid some healthy exercise (as a person who struggles with their weight, yes I DO have a right to say that!). I hate morons who bring cell phones into restaurants or the movies. If your phone rings once, turn it off. If it rings twice, I'm flushing it down the nearest toilet. And if you have a loud, obnoxious conversation which detracts from my dining experience, I will go out of my way to distract you from your call and/or make noise so you will move your ass outside to gossip. I hate people who drive while talking on their cell phones. Especially when you also are driving an SUV that you already can't drive worth a damn without distraction. I hate organized religion. I hate sports, except Rugby and Hockey. I hate smokers, unless it's an old fashioned pipe or nice cigar you're puffing on. I hate bureaucrats. I hate people who choose to remain ignorant but blame others or deny their own ignorance.
I hate a lot of things, but I like a lot of things too. I like to eat (obviously). I like reading. I like fishing, painting and sculpting. I like fall and winter, especially rainy days. I like time alone. But I also enjoy time with my significant other. I like rock music, Gibson SG guitars and Marshall Amps. I like pizza, barbeque and ice cream. I like thick to big girls with large butts. I like sex of all kinds. I like guns. I like toys. I like teaching my nephew new things. I like days off of work. I like sleeping in. I like Star Wars. I like Aqua Teen Hunger Force. I like stretching. I like when a plan comes together. I like writing (duh), and consider myself pretty articulate. I like to drive fast, make love for hours and enjoy the good things in life.
Okay, so I was more in depth with the hate list, but who isn't? That gives you a little insight about who I am right this moment at least. So now you're really getting to know me.
What's to come????
The Future?
Ten years ago I thought I'd be a famous guitarist, making my living playing in a hard rock and roll outfit. Well, it didn't pan out exactly as such obviously. While I've seen limited success with my music career, I'm not where I wanted to be at this stage in my life. Now, I still have a few years left before I should rule out the whole making it big thing, so I haven't thrown my dream away just yet. In fact, I finally stopped being stubborn and am working to create the band I was always afraid to form before due to pressure and risking not being 'cool'.
I'm also looking forward to developing my family. And yes, I plan on having a relatively normal family life. With some exceptions. But I don't think it's healthy forcing transgender issues on kids under 14 or 15 years old, so I would definitely wait til mine were that old before breaking the news to them. Unless one of mine showed strong signs that they may have some inborn TG issues of their own, then it will be a whole different ballgame.
I hope I can keep my current job, as stressful as it can be, in order to keep the bills paid and kill some of that credit card debt. I hope that I can find a way (anything short of whoring my body out...and maybe that's not out of the question...lol) to catch up a little quicker so that I can eventually revert to part time employment and concentrate on my family and my music more. I would love to meet a friend and confidante (an older generous gentleman, perhaps) who would be so gracious as to help buy some hormones, clothes, etc for me, and who might be willing and able to help me get a couple procedures done which he may benefit from as well (laser hair removal, chin job, lip maybe). I would be most appreciative and affectionate in that instance.
I gave up a long time ago trying to get skinny. But I would like to find some better foundation garments to shape up my body when en-femme. I have a few things in mind, but would gladly accept advice, because it's hard being a plus-sized T-gal!
Because I'm cursed with slightly thinning hair, I might look into hair plugs so I don't have to rely on hairpieces to complete my look all the time. That and I might look into those Invisalign clear braces to straighten out my crooked teeth a little.
I would like to find or form a dedicated crossdresser/transgender meeting spot. NOT a cheesy "support" group, NOT just a hookup joint and NOT a place for so-called "admirers" to come drool and hit on us girls. I'm talking about a full-on facility for parties, counseling, lifestyle exploration and entertainment. Ah, 'tis but a dream.
I'll give this more thought and add to it later. Right now the immediate future (dinner) is priority!
Copyright 2006 Holly V (not for use without written permission from the author)
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to my NY peepettes
Candis Beach November 26th, 2008 10:23 pm MSTim in NY till dec 30 give me a yelp
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to my NY PEEPettes
Candis Beach November 26th, 2008 10:21 pm MSTwell im back in NY my moms real sick , will be kickin around 4 awile
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GOOBLE GOOBLE GOOBLE-Some November Thoughts !
Karen Reeves November 16th, 2008 10:00 pm MSTHi Everyone!
I hope that all of you have a great Thanksgiving. We all have, though it may not seem that way many times, so much to be thankful for. The next time you get down emotionally remember that things could be a whole lot worse. Many people are in that predicament.
Don't each too much turkey!
*Kisses*
~Karen~
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