Sunday, December 25, 2011

Friday, December 16, 2011

Christmas Comes But Once A Year...

Thanksgiving is over, and I now have a big dose of Christmas spirit racing through my veins. I think it was a fashion article I read on Christmas party dresses that really got me going. Anyway, this weekend I should finish all my shopping and haul everything down to the post office so Santa Claus can deliver everything. From what I have been hearing about the postal service lately, I'm sure they will be very happy to have my business this year.

I have a love/hate relationship with shopping malls. My guy side doesn't care for them. My gal side does. I don't think I mind getting sprayed with perfume as much as the other guys out shopping. I always enjoy the people watching at the mall. And then there's my all-time fantasy wish list for Santa: if only he could make me a perfect size 6!

Christmas Comes But Once A Year is the title to one of my favorite old-time cartoons. This was a cartoon produced by the Fleischer brothers for Paramount. You can find it on You Tube. It always makes me smile and puts me in a joyful mood. The special church services and choir music always puts me in a spiritual mode and puts a smile on my face as we celebrate the birth of the Christ child.

I put a Christmas countdown timer on the page to help me keep track of time. I have nothing to do with any ads that accompany it, but plan to be in bed asleep during the final five minutes before the big day. It'll only be up during the holidays. Come February I really don't care how many shopping days I have until December 25th.

I sincerely hope everyone has a very nice Christmas. If you celebrate another special observance during this time of the year, I hope you enjoy the holidays and still wish you a Merry Christmas. And if you don't celebrate anything during this time of the year, I sincerely hope you enjoy the season and still wish you a Merry Christmas.

And now to prepare for Easter. I need a new pair of white shoes.


Thursday, November 24, 2011


Pardon my exuberance, but I love Thanksgiving.  It has always been one of my favorite holidays, probably because it centers on love, family, and God.  I find it interesting that it is a federal holiday, established by proclamation of President Abraham Lincoln in 1863.  Today's federal government goes out of its way to portray itself as non-religious and totally secular, even to the embracing of the religion of humanism.  President Lincoln's attitude was that even in this dark time of a great civil war, we have much to be thankful for to God Almighty.

I have much to be thankful for -- health, family, place to live, etc.

I have to admit that I am not always thankful for being transgendered.  I mean, come on now, there have been times, especially in the past, that I have wished that part of my life miraculously dissappeared into thin air.  I see lots of insanity happening in this scenario.  I'm biologically a guy who likes to dress like a woman and mentally picture myself as a complete woman.  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know!  Further, many people are offended at seeing a man dressed as a woman.  Why should they care what I am wearing?  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know!  They see an actual woman wearing a pretty blouse and slacks and think nothing of it.  I wear the same pretty blouse and slacks and they say "You pervert!"  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know!  I'm not wearing anything obscene or immoral, yet I am overly, downright paranoid concerned about my clothes and overly value the false judgement of people I don't even know.  That's strange.  Why is that?  I don't know.

One item that has helped me in my personal life, especially these past few years, is trying to follow St. Paul's instructions when he wrote to give thanks in everything (I Thess. 5:18, i think).  When you read the book of Acts, you read that Paul experienced a lot of hardships in his life, like getting thrown into prison, being shipwrecked, being stoned, etc.  Yet it never slowed him down in his work for God, and you never see him having a pitty party, table for one.  Whatever happened to him, he felt it happened for a reason, and he ascertained that reason and continued on from there.

I've asked myself recently what it must be like as a "normal" guy to see a pretty gal.  I can't for the life of me really guess what he must be thinking, because no matter how strongly I may be attracted to her, I still have those other thoughts about how I wish I was as pretty, or if those shoes come in my size.  Well, praise the Lord, at least I live in a country where I can do that without fear of the police arresting me and taking me away for re-education or worse.  Thank the Lord I am free to assemble and converse with fellow transgendered people.  And I praise the Lord for the women He has brought into my life because I think my transgenderism gave me an insight and appreciation of these beautiful beings that no "normal" man could ever have or enjoy.

St. Paul said in all things give thanks.  Give it a try.  I can vouch that it helps.


Wednesday, November 2, 2011

November Updates

Sorry for not posting much lately. I've been in mourning for my Detroit Tigers.... Only time can heal that loss....

Speaking of baseball (and professional sports in general), I recently became aware of the great inroads women have made in the area of sports apparel. When I was younger, sports apparel was made and marketed towards men. When women wanted to wear a sports jersey, they usually had to buy one made for the guys or borrow one from their boyfriend or husband. Those dark, caveman days have come to a close. I found all sorts of cute and feminine clothes in the professional sports gift shops. To ease my pain over the Tigers, I'm planning to order some Red Wings merchandise to see me through the winter, and no, I will not be ordering the Red Wings bikini.

Point of clarification -- I'm not a big ol' jock. I'm closer in size to the cheerleaders, and quite proud of that fact, thank-you very much.

Yesterday, while doing a little shopping, I saw some television sets displaying an episode of The Doctors. I've never really seriously watched the program although it looks like an interesting show. This particular episode was about the headline some time ago about a man giving birth to a child. The man was a female-to-male transexual. I'm assuming this person was in the process of transitioning when he got pregnant, and then finished transitioning as he looked very manly on the program. The volume was not on, so I could only see the video.
At one point, the cute doctor (don't know her name, but she's an OB/GYN) used a large computer video screen to show the effects of testosterone on the female body. A 3-D female body appeared on the screen, followed by a hypodermic needle that was labeled testosterone. As I said, I couldn't hear what they were saying. The model was injected and the camera zoomed to her face where she began growing whiskers. I'm assuming this is one of the first effects of testosterone. Then there was a cut-away view of the skull and the brain was highlighted. I don't know what testosterone does to the female brain, but I imagine it shrinks it down to the average male size and IQ. It was then that I remembered I wanted to buy a new pair of house slippers and began aimlessly wandering off in that general direction.

Television is not only very education, but it can be very entertaining for my autogynephilia. One of the Hispanic television networks is constantly airing a particular Snickers candy commercial. I don't speak Spanish and don't know very many famous Hispanic television stars, but the commercials are very similar to the ones that air here in the states. In the commercial, a young woman wearing a short orange dress and dark leggings is on a bicycle at a bike/skate park. She yells out to her friends, then pushes off, zooming down to the bottom of the pool where she looses her balance and falls off the bike. She sits on the pavement for a moment complaining about the pain while her two friends stand over her. She stands and is obviously annoyed at their lack of sympathy. One friend hands her a Snickers. She takes a bite, and the next time you see her, it is a guy wearing an orange shirt and dark pants.

It's a cute advertising campaign for the candy company, but if their candy bars could really change you from a woman back into a man, I would seriously consider never eating another one again.


Tuesday, October 25, 2011

On Being Lara Croft

Time for a quick strange dream update....

I have an iGoogle homepage that I enjoy very much. I've got some fashion news gadgets, weather and e-mail gadgets, and some cute artwork gadgets to keep me informed and entertained. It has a calendar and a calculator (which is never used), and a love thought for the day. I don't change the gadgets very often, but the iGoogle page is customizable with various themes, and I like to change the theme from time to time.

My current theme is a Lara Croft theme. Lara is a character from the Tomb Raider video game series. I have never played any of the Tomb Raider games (a fact many younger readers find hard to believe), but I have seen many pictures of Lara. She is a knock-out of a woman who likes action and adventure and could easily kick my tail if I were to meet her in person. Beautiful, a state often identified as feminine, and tough, a state often identified as male, when combined in one person is certain to attract my eye every time.

Lately, I have not been sleeping well, and was extra tired when I went to bed last night. I dreamed last night that I was Lara Croft. Not being familiar with the various Tomb Raider storylines, the dream was mostly various action adventure scenes in which I, as Lara Croft, found myself racing cars, diving off boats, hang gliding, and such. I had a blast in the dream and awoke somewhat out of breath.

Some folks have criticized the Lara Croft character as being an imaginary character whose looks are unattainable for the average woman. The average woman is unable to attain Lara's beauty. The average woman is unable to have shapely legs like Lara. The average woman would find it difficult to daily manage life with a figure like Lara's body dimensions. I feel I can now safely say that I just spent a night as Lara Croft, and had no problem with my breasts getting in my way.


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Congratulations, Miss Angola!

I was riveted to the set last night, watching the Miss Universe pageant.  I know most guys like to leer at pretty girls, but I don't think most guys openly watch beauty pageants like I do.  I love the gowns, the way the clothes fit, their poise, and their hair and makeup.  Some folks might think I'm brave in admitting all this, but for the next several months when I watch television I'll be wearing my favorite Red Wings sweatshirt and waiting for the first octopus to be thrown on the rink.  It takes several months of hockey to balance out one night of beauty pageant viewing male/female wise.  Let's face it -- the Bible clearly endorses balance and temperance in our lives.

If I've mentioned this before, I apologize, but one year I watched the Miss U.S.A. pageant with an actual former beauty pageant contestant.  I won't give any specifics, but she had been a serious contestant in some major pageants.  Eventually, we got to discussing the individual contestants and the subject of "tricks of the trade" came up... like strategic use of tape so the clothes hug the body at just the right places, products you would never consider using as makeup, etc.  We had a great time and I have never forgotten that evening.

Later, it occurred to me that all women, to a lesser degree, try some of these "tricks" in their lives. Who hasn't dated a woman who wore a padded bra or met an acquaintance sans her makeup and mistaken her for a total stranger.  The "tricks" range from extreme like cosmetic surgery to minor like manicures and eye lashes.

Being transgendered, I like to think I have something of a dual outlook on the situation.  Part of me marvels that I have never complimented a woman on her eye lashes when out on a date, and part of me seriously envies those same lashes.  Being transgendered, I should take advantage of my meager knowledge of all things feminine and specifically compliment a woman on her outstanding eye lashes, yet the male side finds that as just too womanly a thing to know, and so I can never admit that I have the knowledge to compliment her on her handiwork.

Still later, it occurred to me that whenever I occassionally crossdress, I definitely use all the tricks of the trade that I can find.  Hairs are plucked, legs shaved, waist cinched, T&A padded, and Max Factor industrial-grade applied.  I probably go as crazy over preparations as many of those beauty pageant contestants.  The biggest difference is that they get to start as female.


Sunday, September 11, 2011

September 11, 2001

(John 11:35)  Jesus wept.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

ftm notes

Saw some promotional video for Chaz Bono's appearance on Dancing With The Stars yesterday.  I must admit that I think Chaz makes for a very nice looking young man.  If I didn't know any better, I'd think he had been a man all his life.  I've seen him on a few talk shows lately as well and thought he made a very good representative of the transgender community.  His mother is obviously very proud of her child, and I think if he were still alive, Chaz's father would be equally proud.

I know ftm transsexuals are fewer in number than mtf transsexuals, but I have always felt it was easier for them to, for lack of a better term, to "pass".  Perhaps as a mtf transgendered person, I'm more critical when it comes to looking like a woman.  The few times I completely dress-up, I go all out for the most realistic female look possible, but always end up admitting that only surgery and hormones could ever come close to making me look the way I wish to look.  And I don't intend any harsh or critical remarks towards my tg girlfriends, but I often find myself thinking the same thing about them, like she might be able to pass if she didn't have such a big male nose, or her beer belly completely gives her away.  Think of it as "gay-dar", only for me it's "tg-dar", and that actually makes no sense.

I found Chaz's mannerisms completely in synch with his male personae, but was still surprised when I saw him dancing.  He seemed to be having a great time, and carried himself well as a man.  The idea occurred to me that dancing could be a wonderful way of developing feminine moves and mannerisms.  Chaz, as the man, gets to support his partner whenever she dips or twirls or jumps into the air.  If you ask me, the girl gets the toughest yet prettiest dance moves.  I'd try it in a heart beat, if only I could find a six-foot tall woman to dance with.

Anyway, I've never watched Dancing With The Stars, but I hope Chaz does well.  Perhaps I'll fantasize about being his dance partner.

Hmm... just reviewed my latest blog entries.  Where the heck was I in August?


Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Fact Is Stranger Than Science Fiction

I've written before on being a casual fan of science fiction. What I find truly interesting and downright amazing is all the things that were labeled "science fiction" when I was a kid that have become science fact of today. For example, when I was younger (than what I am today), there was a television cartoon called The Jetsons about a futuristic family that had computers in their houses, robots, tv wrist watches, and flying cars. Today we have three out of four of those items, and that's not half bad. My poor old vehicle lies at the other end of the technology spectrum, closer to the Flintmobile as found on The Flintstones, but we can discuss autos on another forum....

It seems obvious that many transgendered people are also fans of science fiction. Lots of tv fiction found on the internet makes use of science fiction ideas and plot lines. I use to frequent sites like Fiction Mania where there were hundreds if not thousands of stories just in the sci-fi department. In these stories you could become a woman via a transporter malfunction, radioactive waste, a mad scientist's experiment, or falling through a rabbit hole into an alternate reality. I've got the legs for those Star Trek uniforms if I do say so myself.

Some major medical news was released this week that was immediately posted on several TG forums. The news sounded so incredible that for a moment I thought surely someone must have sent me a TG science fiction plot by mistake, but here is one of many news outlets reporting the story. In short, scientists have discovered that the reason we stay genetically male or female throughout life is because of a gene (duh!), but this gene can be turned on and off, and turning it off causes a body to begin developing as the opposite sex. Tests have only been conducted on mice, so the full effect of the changes is not yet known.

Having read lots of TG fiction, I'm hoping that through a little gene manipulation I can one day walk into a hospital looking like a guy and come out looking more like Marilyn Monroe. The reverse is also possible for women, although I don't think any woman who looks like Marilyn Monroe would walk into a hospital and come out looking like me. I have an ex-girlfriend who says that doctor would be sued for malpractice!

This is a fantastic blessing from the Good Lord and a great hope to all transgenders. I know from experience that even if this new technology can only effect minor changes, the results can be overwhelmingly positive for many. I'll be following this story closely.


Friday, July 22, 2011

News In Passing

Sorry about the lack of updates lately. I don't update very often to begin with, but this past month, I actually had a good excuse.

I mentioned in an earlier post that I had purged and rid my closet of almost all my female clothing. Well, the timing was perfect because shortly after I got a lead on a new apartment and moved. That was quite a few boxes of clothing I didn't have to move after all. The move was hard enough. A friend commented that all the physical work would help get me in shape. I think she was hoping for some bulge in my biceps or a broader chest. I wasn't interested in that kind of physical shape-up.

After that rigorous work-out, I went on vacation. TSA officers at the airport were actually friendly to me (I was in male mode). Must have been a bunch of rookies.

Spent a little time in Dallas, Texas. Was reminded of an ad I saw in the newspaper there many years ago for "nude transvestite strippers". I'm not sure how they accomplished that.

Watched satellite tv with a friend. While scrolling through the on-screen program menu, I saw several listings for what I assume was an infomercial entitled "Perkier Boobs". I'll be watching for that on my local tv station.

Noticed that I pretty much kept my autogynephilia feelings in check during the trip. This is surprising to me as airports are great places to people watch. I saw a few women I would love to emulate, but the feelings were certainly not as strong as they could have been.

Also noticed that I didn't have any dreams dealing with transgenderism during the trip. In previous trips, I have stayed with relatives and had some really bizarre dreams, including one I have written about before in which I was a woman preparing for bed when Mom walks into the room and asks me if I am gay. I can laugh about that dream now as everything was so bizarre in it. I mean, I'm not gay, and in the dream Mom didn't really seem to notice that I was a woman. Makes me wonder what Freud would have said.

I'm glad to be back home now where I can confidently surf the internet in my bikini. I'll kick up my heels in Dallas another time.


Tuesday, June 21, 2011


Today I took a short-cut working on my femme wardrobe and purged everything.

Now before anyone says What?! I can't believe you would do something like that! Don't you know purging never solves anything??? Let me explain.

There was a time in the not too distant past where I would have advised anyone to not purge their closet of their feminine finery. I had purged my closet of Kelli's clothes a couple of times in the past and had deeply regretted doing that. I have not done a complete purge in twenty years!

Since my last purge, I've learned about autogynephilia. I've learned that this term applies directly to me and have since learned a few things about myself that I didn't know 20 years ago. For example, I have never had the same strong desire to dress as a woman as have my crossdressing friends. I've enjoyed dressing as Kelli over the years, but if I did that once a month, I was happy. My friends would prefer to dress every week if not every day. I found this confusing as I thought we all had the same outlook and reasons for crossdressing. I began to think that even among crossdressers there was something odd about me (and there probably is, but that is a different story).

After studying various theories about autogynephilia, I felt these differences between myself and other crossdressers was okay because we actually were dressing for different reasons. The way I see it, crossdressers dress to externalize their feelings of femininity. My feelings of femininity are almost all internal, and those feelings don't change much whether I am wearing pants or skirts. I can't really call what I am about to say a fantasy as it happens every day in real life, but I often see myself as a woman trying to pass as a man. The average person sees a guy when they look at me, and I know that beneath the shirt and pants, the Hanes His Way underwear, and the sport talc deodorant, and despite what the biology textbooks say, I am 100% woman!

Another reason I purged is because my wardrobe was starting to look very out of date. Much of what I had was donated from a former girlfriend, and that too was many years ago. She had wonderful taste in clothes, but I decided it was time to start purchasing new items. I haven't seen anyone wear stirrup pants in quite awhile.

Still, while going through all the hangers, it was like a trip down memory lane. I came across a sweaterdress that I really liked that brought back quite a few memories. The first memory was that there was a time in the past when I was small and thin enough to actually wear a sweater dress. Second was the memory of that dress being the first dress my ex-girlfriend saw me wearing. I had a very small wardrobe back then and I had just told her about Kelli. She surprised me the next day by asking to see Kelli. I hadn't expected her to bring it up that soon, but ducked into the bathroom and tried to use all the tricks to look my best. I cinched my waist. I padded my hips, I double-checked my makeup. I made certain my boobs were straight. At last I tottered out in my 2.5 inch heels and my girlfriend seemed to be genuinely surprised. She told me that at first glance she thought I passed and had "one hell of a figure". It was on closer inspection that she soon saw I was male. Coming from her, I took all that as a great compliment.

All the blouses, skirts, slacks, jackets, and cute PJs are boxed and ready to be delivered to a local thrift store. For this purge, I am actually very happy and looking forward to building my new wardrobe. I hope the recipients are as happy with this wardrobe as I have been.


Monday, May 23, 2011

Jeannie or Samantha Stevens?

Mercy me, I'm giving away my age by resurrecting that old television debate. That question was frequently asked by young men my age when I was a young man of that age back in the day. The question simply asked who you would prefer (and I'll leave the definition of "prefer" to the reader): Jeannie, a genie and lead character of the I Dream of Jeannie television show, or Samantha Stevens, a modern witch and lead character of the Bewitched television show.

I never really took part in such discussions. That was due to my own definition of the word "prefer" which I took to mean "which woman would I rather be". In a gathering of a half dozen men discussing that question, I would bet serious money that I would be the only person thinking along those lines. Oh well, the other guys didn't know what they were missing.

In a serious discussion of which woman I would rather be, the answer is obvious -- Jeannie! She was cute. She was pretty. She was perky. She had a mischievous sense of humor. Her genie powers didn't seem to have all the rules and regulations of Samantha's witchcraft powers. And she was head over heels in love with Major Nelson. If you're gonna be a girl, it seems perfectly okay to have a nice looking fellow at your side. Plus that bottle looks a lot more comfortable than my current reality-based cramped quarters.

Alas, the only time I'll ever be able to wear Jeannie's cute genie outfit is at Halloween, and even then only for a good laugh. That's where the actual benefits of being a real genie would come in so handy. Feeling a bit bloated because you had cheesecake for desert last night? Just fold your arms over your chest, blink your eyes while bobbing your head, and the extra weight is gone. Now that is a feat NASA scientists should be working on.

A similar question of the day involved the television show Gilligan's Island and simply asked who you would prefer (again, the definitions are up to you): Hollywood movie star Ginger, or Kansas farm girl Mary Ann? Perhaps it is because of my midwest roots (familial, not hair), but I would have to side with Mary Ann for reasons of sweetness and perkiness. She also had a girl-next-door sexiness about her along with down home logic and practicality that I found both good and scary -- good in that all women need good "horse sense", and scary in that horse sense tells you it might be wise to consider "preferring" Mrs. Howell with her sweet disposition and mountains of money!

Hmm... that logic is too logical. Think I'll go back to my dreams of being Jeannie.


Saturday, May 14, 2011

Sandra Dunaway Finishes 3rd in Mayor's Race

I mentioned this news item a few entries back and figured I'd be remiss if I didn't follow up on it. Sandra Dunaway, a TG woman, finished 3rd in the Amarillo mayoral race today. That's the Amarillo, conservative little city located in the Texas panhandle where the tumbleweeds are plentiful, interstate drivers frequently do 90, and the women... ah, it's not just the panhandle. All the women in Texas are bea-u-ti-ful!

Anywho, Sandra's run for the office of mayor created something of a buzz not just in Amarillo, but throughout the TG community. She ended up placing a distant third behind a couple of apparent political heavyweights, but considering there were eleven people on the ballot, I think Sandra did pretty good and did a lot better than many people would have predicted. With her platform, I'm sure folks will be hearing from her again.

You can read about Sandra's run and get the election results at the Amarillo newspaper's website.

Now if we can just find a TG to run for president.


Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Terror On 17th Street Update

Things have calmed down a bit at my place, and I'm overjoyed to say that I think the mouse is gone. True to their reputation, the critter appeared out of nowhere and returned to nowhere. I don't know how he got in and I don't know how he got out. I do have a theory as to why he visited my place, and those circumstances have been dealt with and eliminated for the moment. In the end, only I know how badly my tough guy image was shattered. It could have been worse... I could have been an elephant.

Was reminded of the movie Shallow Hal in which a guy is hypnotized into seeing people as they really are on the inside. For example, his girlfriend is incredibly... ah... er... heavy... no, maybe large is the word.... Anyways, he is hypnotized to see the inner person which is a funny, sweet, beautiful young woman. Fleeing from this mouse made me glad no one could see my inner sissy. Still, if such hypnotism actually existed, bad things would actually look bad to you and you could avoid them. For example, that peeping Tom that use to live down the street from me would look like the creep that he is, or that chocolate Sundae that I enjoy so much doesn't look so good when it has moved to your waist. Then again, why am I considering the pros and cons of something that doesn't even exist in the first place? I'll blame the mouse for this one.

My private life sometimes sounds like I live in some sort of institution decorated with plush wallpaper, but I really do live a normal life and can come or go as I please from my apartment. Only difference is that I'm a guy who sometimes wears sneakers and sometimes wears heels when I'm on the move.

Go Red Wings!!!


Friday, April 15, 2011

There's A Mouse In My House

This is not funny. There is a mouse in my house, and I'm just a little bit... ah... nervous about it.

I had just locked the front door for the night and was picking up a box on the dining room floor when I thought I saw something move in the kitchen. I stood still for a moment, then saw a large mouse scamper from behind the stove to the far end of the kitchen and somehow disappear. I can only say that he "somehow" disappeared because I took off running in the opposite direction. Yuck! I hate mice!

I threw on some clothes and ran out to buy some traps. I really, really, really wished I was a girl at the moment as most people could sympathize with a fretful young woman buying mouse traps, but a big, strong, fretful man buying mouse traps is a bit ridiculous. Okay, I'm not that big and strong, but it still doesn't look right. I really hate mice.

Returned home and started setting the traps. Oh, if one of those varmints had jumped out at me I would have jumped up on the nearest chair or counter top and screamed. I set two mechanical traps and two glue traps. I really wished the store sold something more drastic like land mines and unmanned drones, but beggars can't be choosers. I'm calling the landlady tomorrow. I hate mice.

I turned out the lights and retired to my bedroom, but didn't really feel like going to bed. Began updating blogs and such when I heard one of the mechanical traps go off. I put on my shoes, cautiously entered the living room, and turned on the light. Everything okay. I entered the dining room and turned on the light. So far, so good. I peered into the kitchen but could only see one trap, and it was still set. I turned on the light and actually entered the kitchen only to find that the trap closest to the kitchen door had been sprung, and there was no mouse in it. Now I knew, that sadistic little monster was toying with me. I turned out the lights and returned to the bedroom. This is going to be a long night. I hate mice.

All of this has got me feeling like a complete sissy. It's bad enough to look like a guy but feel like a woman inside. It really messes with my mind when I find myself acting like a "stereotypical" woman in certain situations, and for the record, I have never made fun or laughed at a woman because she was scared of mice. I share total empathy on this subject because I hate mice too.

I'm now barricaded in my bedroom, armed with a broom and several shoes, waiting for daylight or the sound of another trap in motion. It's times like this I'm glad I have always given general instructions for my funeral ("Just bury me in my best suit" male or female, "I want to look as natural as possible" male or female, etc.), just in case that devil mouse gets the better of me tonight. Dang it, I'm just plain old scared of mice!


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Happy Anniversary... To Me...

Came across this picture sometime during my internet surfing adventures, and thanks to my little ol' autogynephiliac brain, I immediately knew what was happening. Once again, some poor guy has been involved in a terrible accident, knocked unconscious, taken to the hospital, mistakenly given a sex change operation, and has awaken to find he is now a gorgeous, curvaceous, sexaceous (probably not a real word) gal. At least in the world of TG fiction, one man's tragedy can be another man's unfulfilled dreams.

Given the number of times this scenario plays out everyday in real life (approximately 0 times a day), it seems a bit odd this would be such a popular storyline. However, I'm not a critic, just a fan of non-pornographic TG fiction, and I probably enjoy dreaming about such stories as much if not more than the next TG person.

This humble little blog celebrates its first anniversary today (Yay!). In retrospect, I haven't accomplished all I wanted to do in the first year, yet at the same time, I was fully prepared to have no "followers" much less passing readers during the first year. I just wanted a little spot on the www to tell people I was a conservative Christian transgendered person and to let others who consider themselves the same that they were not alone. Praise the Lord, I've done that, I've met others like me, and they in turn have met others. I know how encouraging it can be to a person to find out that they are not alone, yet I am available to fill the role of a lone voice crying in the wilderness anytime that is needed.

It seems that the first year anniversary is the paper anniversary, so it is also a bit odd that the internet has done much to eliminate the need for paper and traditional printed communication. Over twenty years ago, I received the Grace and Lace newsletter in the mail. It was a simple, mostly typewritten little paper, carefully photocopied and mailed out in a plain white envelope. The publication schedule was a bit random, but the publisher, Lee Frances Heller, had a love for the Lord and for His people that shone through the pages of that newsletter. I never knew Ms. Heller personally, but I like to think that in addition to passing on the Lord's love to others, I'm continuing her type of ministry in a small way.

Returning to the picture and storyline mentioned at the start of this post, I myself am a bit of a wuss when it comes to pain and would probably not like to find myself literally in the same situation. However, I am totally open-minded to the possibility of sci-fi transporter device malfunctions, male-female body switches, landlady forcing me to dress like a girl, and prescription drug mishaps that cause my estrogen to spike and my body to feminize. We shall see what the next year brings.


Thursday, March 3, 2011

Don't Know Anything About Breasts

Saw a story on the television news recently that scientists are having amazing success growing female breast tissue. The breast tissue is the person's own body tissue, so there are no problems with implants or tissue rejection. Doctors are worried about cancer cells in the new tissue, as they theorize the acceleration process in growing healthy cells could also accelerate diseased cells. Also, they don't seem to have a way to definitely stop the growth process, and say it is possible the breast tissue could continue to grow out of control.

All this exciting news really sent my little ol' TG'd brain into overdrive. Growing my own female breasts would be a dream come true, and who knows what else they might be able to grow by the time they perfect this process.

The shape and form of the female body has always been incredibly important to me. Some crossdressers are happy to just put on a dress and maybe a wig. They would never pass in a million years. The female shape and form has always been intensely important to me since my earliest crossdressing days. It was never just enough to put on female clothes. I had to make my body as feminine as possible.

For example, I always wanted a corset, but could never afford one. I solved this problem by buying several old leather belts and cinching them up as tight as I could stand. I would have four or five belts on at time, making certain my feminine waist was the smallest point and the other belts not cinched as tightly.

I saw an advertisement for a crossdresser's padded garment designed to give the hips and thighs a more womanly figure. After experimenting on my own, I found I could get some cotton padding from a craft store, cut it to size and shape, and with the help of a good pair of pantyhose, achieve feminine hips and butt.

The breasts were a bigger challenge to me. I have a bit more up top than most men and could achieve some decent effects with taping and falsies, but it wasn't enough for me. I wanted a pair of breasts that would have the straightest, most homophobic man in town drooling all over himself like the village idiot when he saw me, and a padded bra just wouldn't do the trick.

By accident, I heard about latex prosthetics used in theatrical productions and saw some pictures of female impersonators using fake bosoms. Good heavens! That was the answer! So I found a book with instructions for making latex prosthetics and memorized it. I bought some plaster, some petroleum jelly, shaved my body, and made a mold of my upper torso. That was the easy part, and it turned out pretty good if I do say so myself.

Next came the hard part: making boobs out of modeling clay and putting them on my plaster torso. I am not an artist in the realm of sculpture. Heck, little kids often have to ask what I am trying to make out of kid dough. I could not make a pair of breasts that I was satisfied with.

I then began studying female breasts for several months. I girl watched every chance I could get. I read fashion magazines and bought lingerie catalogs. I read health books at the library. My attention was riveted on television news reports about women's breasts (cosmetic surgery, health, fashion, etc.). Mind you, I didn't consider myself any sort of pervert... I just wanted a great pair of breasts!

However my studies could not make-up for my lack of talent with sculpting, so I packed everything away for future experiments and concentrated on using fashion -- proper bra size, padding, breast placement, etc. -- to achieve a look I could be happy with.

Around that time I came out to my girlfriend. It was still early in the relationship, and she was going to meet some fellow crossdressers. She was helping me get dressed and we were talking as I put on my bra and got my breasts arranged.

"You're not going to wear your bra like that, are you?" she asked.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I mentally reviewed all the fashion magazines I had read, all the catalogs I had memorized, and all the girl-watching subjects I had referenced.

"Yes," I replied, "does something not look right?"

"Oh dear, you don't know the first thing about women's breasts," she informed.


Friday, February 25, 2011

Odds & Ends

Sorry for the lack of updates. I recently found myself marooned on a small island after getting off-course while internet surfing. I survived on a diet of coconuts and pineapples while making enough grass skirts to trade to local natives for a canoe (okay, I was actually sick and snowbound here in the states). Returned to find a few noteworthy TG items....

Had a good laugh watching "Two and a Half Men". Allen's dark side manifested itself as a reflection in the mirror. At the end of the episode, Allen has had enough of his dark side and tells him to lighten up. Allen's lighter side then appears in the mirror and it's a female version of Allen. That was probably very scary to the Allen character.

Tonight, David Letterman was getting names confused and ended up focusing on Jim Bailey, female impersonator. Just found it interesting as you don't hear very many professional female impersonators mentioned in pop media these days.

Having spent a lot of time in Amarillo, Texas, I never thought I would be writing this, but the upcoming mayoral race is interesting to say the least. The quiet little panhandle town, known for its oil and gas industry, cattle industry, arid climate, and favorite vacation spot of Oprah Winfrey (NOT!) now has its first transgendered candidate for mayor. Current opponents include a used car salesman, and an outspoken conservative preacher known for burning the Koran and trying to close down an alleged swinger's club. Stay tuned, America!

I have a list of crossdressers I have known who looked beautiful and could easily pass until they opened their mouth to talk. Think of that old gag in The Three Stooges short subjects where the boys meet a gorgeous woman, tell her how beautiful she is, and she answers in a gruff, tough-guy voice "Gee! Tanks fellas!" Anyway, I can now add Andrej Pejic to the list. Andrej models female clothing on the fashion catwalks and looks fantastic. Then I saw some sound bites of him talking on Inside Edition. He sounded like a goofy French surfer guy or video game addict. It was very disconcerting.

I enjoy surfing around blogs that focus on various gender issues. From time to time I have noticed a few blogs that seem to have been involuntarily removed, and that causes a bit of concern and bewilderment on my part. For example, I frequently read one particular blog that dealt with gender role reversal. I don't remember it being X-rated, perhaps just a bit racy from time to time. Heaven knows it's easier to find the X-rated stuff out there than the PG or R-rated stuff. So imagine my surprise when I went to the site one day and there was a notice saying it had been removed and the URL was no longer available. Does this mean the site was censored by removing it? I really don't know too much about this internet thingy. Putting a "kill switch" on it sounds like something out of a James Bond picture. Oh! To be a Bond girl....

I'm back home from my temporary island imprisonment. The snow has melted and I'm feeling much better, thank-you.


Thursday, January 13, 2011

Rubber Ducky

Heavenly days! I enjoy shaving my legs. Don't know if I am the only one who feels this way, but the entire process has become an elaborate ritual at my place with lots of soap, lots of perfumed oils, lots of lotion and moisturizer, and lots of hot water in the old bath tub.

Since my legs had been neglected for the past several months, I started with the gasoline-powered weed wacker (I mean... electric hair clippers). That was followed by filling the tub with hot water, throwing in some soap, adding a little oil, installing a new heavy-duty blade in my razor, and turning on the radio in the bedroom. Now that I have finished, I once again wonder why I don't do this more often. My legs always feel energized and rejuvenated after a good shave. I feel like I could enter a dance marathon and easily win it. I feel bouncy and bubbly and ready for anything the world could throw my way.

GGs (genetic gals) would probably read those statements and throw up their hands in disgust. I'm sure such mundane chores as shaving the legs are classified under the category of "The Things We Have To Endure For Our Men" which is looked forward to with the same eager anticipation as tweezing the brows, shaving the pits, and bleaching the facial hair. I would assume most women look past this hygene chore to what comes next -- shopping, a night out, or a night in (with the right person). If only they could sympathize and empathize with me!

Shaving is just one of the preliminary steps to actually being me -- Kelli! It is a precursor to even more mundane female rituals such as tweezing the brows, shaving the pits, mowing the facial hair, all to the point where I can put on the proper clothes and not only be Kelli, but look like Kelli. There's a part of me that gets tired of seeing some guy looking back at me when I see a mirror. That's the limit to my crossdreaming. Now I'm ready to be as physically close to being Kelli as possible (my mind is already there).

See ya later alligator!