She walked right out the door

Natick turned out to be great. The evening had a bit of a rough start though. I’d planned on taking the train there, but at some point read the train schedule wrong and thought all of the sudden that I didn’t have time to get dressed at home. I threw everything in a bag, planning to dress at the hotel, and ran out the door. At the train station, I realized my mistake and realized I had 45 minutes to kill. What else was there to do but…omg…did I really do that? Yes…um…I did. I…put on make up and dressed in the men’s room of the train station. I figured it was safe because there were surely security cameras. I get the impression from the media that Boston public transportation stations have like the most security cameras of any public facilities in the country. Anyway, not a single comment while I was doing makeup in front of the mirror, then I took my clothes in a stall, changed, and had only that one awkward instant where I had to walk out of the stall and out of the men’s room, completely dressed.

There was also a little problem getting a taxi later, but never mind that. I got to the hotel, and who did I see when I walked in, but Wendy, whom I knew from Woburn GNO! It was a pleasant surprise. I was just a little embarrassed because I owed her an email, but anyway, it was great to have a friend there. We sat together most of the night, talked to the people around us and of course also got to know each other a little better. This is one part of being a girl that I’m very interested in – learning how to listen, share, make friends, be sensitive, and make really close friends. I know I’m really bad at this right now. I know that guys are generally worse at it than girls. I know it’ll take work, but I really want to do it. I want to be the kind of person that pays attention to what’s going on in her friends’ lives, who remembers what her friends have told them, and who notices if a friend’s mood is up or down. The kind of person who notices details about what people are wearing, how they are acting, and does the right things to make new friends. These Tuesday nights in Natick seem perfect for this. There’s the whole evening to just mingle and sit around and talk. So this week, arriving a little late, I didn’t have a whole lot of time for this, but still had a great night. Besides sitting and talking with Wendy, I met Michelle and talked a lot with her. Also made sure I talked for a couple of minutes with Amy, who impressed me so much last week, and I at least waved and said hi to Jennifer, who was so good to me last week to spend some time with me to make me feel welcome. Let’s see, also talked a little with Tanya, who came with Wendy, and, surely some others I’m not thinking of now. Wendy saved me much trouble at the end of the night by giving me a ride home. I think she’ll be a good friend.

A new bounce

The big news is that I got breast forms! It feels like a big step somehow. There have been so many steps for me in the last month, some of them certainly big, but this one feels really special. I feel even more that I’m “here” now. Hmm…maybe I’ll have to stop saying that I’m new. Na, not until Friday anyway – that’ll be my one month anniversary.

The adventure yesterday was shopping at Glamour Boutique with Meredith, Jessica, and Stacy. After work, I walked to Jessica and Stacy’s with everything I needed to dress. I’d planned to wear jeans, but Stacy promptly handed me a skirt. It turned out it went just great with the other clothes I’d brought so that’s what I ended up wearing. It was my first time in a mini — kind of fun! I had to learn to watch that it didn’t ride up when I would sit. Mostly it was great to feel the open air, similar to the experience of wearing a sleeveless top.

Jessica was still fussing that she didn’t believe I wore a size 10. I explained yet again that it’s just pants and skirts, that my ribcage needs a much larger size of dress or blouse, and I started to show her the tag in my jeans to prove that they were really size 10. “I don’t care what the tag says,” she stopped me, “am I really bigger than you?” “Here, try them,” I said, and tossed her my jeans. They were a little tighter on her than on me, but they did button and zip just fine, much to Jessica’s amazement. I have to admit, it was interesting to see them on her. The tight look was very flattering on her, but…I was surprised at how “butch” the look was. This was my new pair of lee jeans that I got at BCF. The denim is dark and not faded or distressed in any way and I had a black leather belt, the kind with two rows of metal grommets, in the belt loops. I somehow imagined looking more feminine than that when I wore those jeans. I guess I don’t. Anyway, she quickly changed out of my jeans and back to her pink pants in which I’m sure she felt much more comfortable.

An hour later, we were all dressed, Meredith was there, and we left for Glamour Boutique. Once there, I really had a single objective on my mind, looking at breast forms. When we walked in, Meredith wanted to take me to the shoes. I did try on a couple of pair, but then excused myself explaining that the breast forms were my top priority. They guy that runs the shop showed me the clearance ones first, then I made him show me several more expensive ones. Not knowing what to look for, I really couldn’t see that much difference. The more expensive ones had better nipples, they were slightly different in shape, but the construction and the basic feel all seemed the same to me. I bought the clearance specials. No reason to pay more until I can appreciate the difference! I wore them for the rest of the night then, and was in my own little reverie. It was fun to have a new bounce that the birdseed didn’t have, and it was fun that everyone said they looked so much better. Somehow they made being dressed more special. You know? The GGs wear the same clothes and same makeup as us. That part may be fun and exciting for a guy, but not to the other half of the population. Here is something tangible, with no use except to a t-girl, and I just bought it, and I’m wearing it, and it’s working for me. It’s something that can’t be denied. It’s somehow very real.

Well, I may have been done with my single purchase, but the other girls of course shopped like crazy, trying on and eventually buying all sorts of stuff. I’ll definitely have to come back some other time when I can think straight, maybe with a whole list of stuff to look for. While they shopped, I needed a little snack and walked across the parking lot to a gas station. It was staffed by an Asian family with some elementary school-aged girls. The little girls were so fun to watch. They tried to pretend to be working there, sitting behind the counter and asking if I was ready to check out, but when I said yes, they had to call for their mom. As the woman rang up my pretzels and diet Pepsi, I watched the girls’ eyes scurry all over my bracelets, my necklace, my wrist watch. So cute!

Crap. I just saw in the restroom mirror that I’m missing an earring. Of course it had to be a nice opal too. Grrr.

The adventure for tonight will be Natick again. I went last week for the first time and loved discovering a group of girls so well dressed. The hotel was classy and the girls were dressed to make the lobby bar look good. I was so happy because then I knew where I could wear my new blue skirt. I bought a long skirt a couple of weeks ago because I saw it and loved it, but it’s not a skirt to take dancing on Landsdowne street so I hadn’t worn it yet. I’ll wear it tonight, although—it makes me cringe, but I’m going to do it anyway—although, with the same blouse I wore last Tuesday. I just don’t have enough in my closet yet! Blue skirt, black blouse, and at lunch time today I got a lavender wrap of some sort that I’m going to fold over and wear as a belt.

Hey darling…

Sunday afternoon, with nothing planned, I went out shopping (ah, male-mode, I have to add. I haven’t been brave enough to do much shopping en femme yet.) I had no real shopping goals, nothing specific I desperately needed. At the Goodwill store, I wandered and looked at a few things, but I really seem to have trouble getting motivated there. It takes time to dig through everything, looking for sizes, skipping over all the worn and ugly stuff to find just the nice stuff. On the way out though, a bracelet caught my eye. I guess it’s just little kid jewelry, but it’s glass and I love glass art, and I just wanted it. $3. At Tello’s I looked at all the fun and flirty stuff, but picked out a tan corduroy jacket. Ok, also a black tank that has steel grommets along the neckline. At DSW I wandered through the whole store, looking at everything, seeing that there are absolutely no wides, and really very few 11s. The last thing I looked at was the clearance shelf in the front. There was a pair of nice 4” cork wedges with a pewter strapy design. Ok, so now that I google the Chinese Laundry web site, I see they’re bragging that these shoes are hot for spring, which of course is why I found them on the clearance shelf, but…shouldn’t they be good for fall too? I dunno…that’s what I was thinking when I bought them.

For the evening, I was bored and anxious to get out of the house. Plus my new jacket just needed to be worn. I dressed in jeans, sneakers, a brown top and the new tan jacket. Over it all I work my tent-like sailing jacket, with the hood up because it was raining. I thought that in the rain, with a raincoat over my head, and in jeans and sneakers, that there would be no clues to my gender, and that I would be invisible outside. Yet…walking by the bus station, I still got a wolf whistle. Where did that come from? What did they see? A wisp of my long hair peeking out of my hood? I glimpse of lipstick through the rain? Does my unisex red jacket really look that feminine? Is my walk that good? No idea. It was already late and I thought that kitchens at most bars would be closing. I went to Charlie’s because I knew they were open—I’ve been almost a regular in there at times in the past. Downstairs I recognized one of the regulars at the far end of the bar. I went upstairs. You know, I don’t think I avoided him out of embarrassment or anything, it just seemed like a boring thing to do to go show off my new look and tell my story and all for someone with whom my only connection really is that we’ve gotten drunk on adjacent bar stools a number of times. Upstairs at Charlie’s is generally a little noisier. The music is louder and the crowd is younger and hipper. I almost always sit downstairs. I sat and had the lobster roll and drank Stella. It was boring and I left. Back at Davis, I tried the Diva lounge for the first time. I’d looked in the doorway before and could see that the interior design was really interesting and I’d wanted to go explore. The place was pretty quiet. I sat on the far end of everyone else, ordered some food and a drink. The few people that were there gradually filtered out. (They’d been there a long time and needed to leave because they were drunk, the bartender later told me.) As the last two guys in the bar stood up to leave, one of them called to me in a friendly voice, “hey darling…” and I looked up and smiled. When he saw my face though, his expression instantly turned to shock and horror. “Oh jesus,” he said, no longer addressing me, and he slowly backed out of the door of the bar, unable to say anything else. I sighed and said to the bartender, “Oh well, at least it was a compliment that I looked good from the back.”

Online later and chatting with friends, Trina was psychoanalyzing me. Why do you do this, she wanted to know. We tossed around lots of ideas. It was fun. One thing I’m clearly doing is exploring people’s acceptance and the range of reactions. But do I do it because I want to force people to react? I don’t think so…I just want to learn what happens, what to expect from people, how I can deal with it, if I can deal with it.

Saturday

URNA looks like a good place for my journal. I’m not quite one month old as a t-girl, and so much of my thinking and my life is now occupied with learning to be a girl! I like to write a little bit every day, mostly just documenting the little events of my life and occasionally my thoughts.

Yesterday was Saturday; it turned out to be a great day in spite of being unplanned. I woke up and took my time with coffee and breakfast, and doing a few little things around the house. I thought about going to the Museum of Fine Arts. I called my friend Sheila to see if she could come. No, she had plans for the day already. I mended a tank top that I’d bought on sale because it was the end of the season and because it had this broken strap. Then I had to try it on. Once it was on, I didn’t want to take it off. I started a load of laundry. I called my friend Lynn to talk about plans for Labor Day Weekend. We’d talked about spending the weekend together, but now she was reconsidering, making vague excuses about not having time to prepare. She asked me though, if I could come to a party that evening with some friends of hers. Now, there’s little mystery in my answer; I’m almost always up for spontaneous fun like that. I accepted. She asked if I was dressed as Sonia or Kyle. Giggling, I told her. I could almost see her eyes roll. I promised to change before the party. Off the phone, but now in a very good mood with fun plans for the evening, I decided that the best use of the afternoon was in fact the art gallery, and going as Sonia. Shave, makeup, double check that I’m dressed. Triple check…really many many checks. Going out dressed is far from routine yet! I can never believe that I’m really ready, that I haven’t forgotten something or made some silly mistake, so I keep looking in the mirror, looking around the room, going over and over everything to convince myself that I’m really ready to walk out the door.

Out the door felt so good. The cool fall air on my bare shoulders and arms, my hair tickling me, the sun on my face, and plans for the day to do nothing but play. The museum was great. I had time to wander through a couple of galleries, then wandered into a new exhibit, “Beyond Basketry: Japanese Bamboo Art.” Absolutely fantastic stuff. It’s so fun to stumble into something and realize, “oh, I didn’t know it until this moment, but this is the reason I’m here.”

Home again later, girl clothes off, makeup off, moisturizer back on, boy clothes on, out the door again. I called Lynn and made plans to meet her. Picked up flowers as a gift for the hostess, met Lynn, cab ride to the party. The party was just perfect. A small group of people from Lynn’s office, a great condo with rooftop patio, food, drinks. Fun, fun, fun conversations. The hostess pulled it all off flawlessly and made it look effortless. I want to be able to do that! I’d love to host a party like that. Hmm…it’ll have to be a goal. The party ended around 10:00 pm. One of the guests, Lynne, was giving Lynn a ride home and she dropped me at the train station.

Almost home and just steps from my front door, I ran into my roommate Al, just going out for the night. “You want company?” I asked. “Sure!” “Ok, you have to give me just a minute to run inside and pee, then I’m with you.” Inside, outside again, we were walking and I began to explain that he would have to lead the way because I was drunk. I’d had four drinks at the party, and knew from an experience with five drinks just two days earlier that four was my limit. I told Al stories about my day and finally stopped and asked him to tell a story. “I don’t have any,” he said, “you’re the one living the life of glamor and excitement.” Al truly doesn’t have a life, but trying to make life sound accessible, I said, “heh, glamor was walking through the art gallery and excitement was getting drunk.” *sigh* I’ll omit the details of the evening. Basically we went to a couple of bars. I talked to people, danced a little bit, and got hit on a few times. Al cowered in corners like a mouse. That’s what he does. Home again within a couple of hours, I was wasted. Contacts, face, pillow, sleep.

First dress

Writing January 27, 2008 here. August 25, 2006, my fourth GNO, went undocumented in words. Very sad because this was my first time in a dress!

SMT

I’m not getting caught up at this rate! Ok, no more about Saturday. Yes, stuff happened, but ordinary stuff. Mostly we just had a great time. Sunday I went out shopping during the day. I was looking for earrings, but didn’t have any destination in particular. My plan was to walk the sidewalks and stop in any little shop that looked interesting. I found one interesting pair at a Tibetian shop, and a few other little things here and there, but I still don’t know where to buy guy earrings. Sunday evening though, was my date with Al!  It went really well. All he had really offered was to take me to a movie, but I added dinner and drinks to make a complete evening out of it. He hadn’t agreed to dinner, but I got dressed and told him I was going to Border Cafe in Harvard Square and invited him again to come with me and he agreed. I paid my way, and maybe a little bit of his, so it was no burden on him. The only awkward moment was when he took offense to the waiter calling us “guys.” He admonished the waiter, “You know, we’re different sexes…” The waiter apologized profusely and explained that he used the term for all people, and so on. I stayed quiet, but when the waiter left, I then corrected Jim. I told him that I also used “guys” to refer to a group of people regardless of gender, and that the waiter’s term hadn’t bothered me at all, and that anyway, we are the same sex, but different gender. The poor waiter later used the term “folks” and winked at me. I hope he wasn’t bothered too much by it. I really wish I could have talked to him and told him to disregard Al’s comments. After the movie, we went to a gay bar for drinks. The bar has live dancers; this was Sunday though, and the place was dead. I watched and sipped my Sapphire and tonic for a bit then walked up to a tall table right by the stage. I sat, crossed my legs, posed my best, and gave the dancer my full attention. He loved it. I tipped him and we talked a bit while he continued to dance. “Thank god you’re here!” he said. Back home at the end of the night, Al said something like he had a good time, and I said, “Yes! There’s one last part to the date!” and held out my arms. I got a hug, but no kiss. *sigh*

SSM

Meeting Lynn for the game turned into a huge mess. She wanted me to meet her somewhere that would be convient for her, that is, along some major route she could take to the game, so she wouldn’t have to waste time driving down little streets to find my house. I was happy to do this, and maybe take the train somewhere, but not being a driver, I don’t know the ramps on the highways and didn’t know a good place for this. I tried calling MBTA to ask. The operator was eager to help and her first suggestion, in retrospect, would have been a good one. But then we were chatting and she said that it was silly for me to take the train, and that Lynn should just come down this one highway near my house. It would an easy walk for me, and right on the way to the game. Later, Lynn liked it and that was the plan. To make a long story short, she got stuck in traffic, then took the wrong highway, then drove right by me on the street, then got on a different highway before she could turn around, and ended up driving around for nearly an hour before finding me. She was complaining on the phone at one point that if I would just stay put and stop walking that she could come and pick me up. I said, “Ok, I’m at such-and-such intersection (the intersection of the highway she was supposed to be on and another major street.) Do you know where that is?” “No…”, she confessed with a resigned voice.

All this was in mid-afternoon, in the heat of the day. I’d put on sunscreen, I had my sunglasses, and since I knew it was a few hours before game time, I’d brought a book and a magazine to read, a couple of other little things, and I had a sweatshirt for when it would get cooler in the evening. I had all this in a plastic shopping bag. As we walked up to the stadium gates, I was reading the signs over the turnstiles. About 1/4 of the lines had signs that read “Women with bags” and the other 3/4 had signs that read “Express line, men with no bags.” I stopped. What was I to do? I read the signs again, more carefully. Nope, there seemed to be no line for men with bags. A stadium worker saw my puzzled expression and walked up. I looked down at my bag and started to ask what line I should go through. “Ah…your bag looks a little too big to be allowed inside.” He said. It all still seemed crazy to me. “We’d have to search it,” the man added. “Oh, of course,” I offered, and held open the bag. “There’s just sunscreen, sunglasses….” The worker took a step back, declining to look. At this point I think Lynn got embarrassed. She laughed and said, “oh you don’t need any of that.” I ended up taking everything back to the car. Well, everything but the sweatshirt. I put this on so I could walk through the men’s line empty handed, as apparently men are expected to do.

Inside, things were easier. We walked around the stadium, bought shirts, found our seats, bought margaritas and bbq sandwiches and watched the game.

FSS

Predictable. So much to write about. When I wrote on Friday, I was home finishing up work on the computer, and plans were for Gabriella to come and pick up me and Jessica and the three of us go to GNO. Gabriella never messaged and never showed. Jessica and I took way too long getting ready. I thought I was late last week. This week I was even half an hour later. To get there, Jessica walked to a taxi stand got a cab and came to pick me up. I walked to Mass Ave and waited for her on the street. I must have looked like a hooker standing on the corner. I got one “hey sexy!” while I waited, which was fun. I was so flustered from being late, I didn’t even calm down on the cab ride. It wasn’t until we got to the hotel and I’d said hello to people and had a drink in front of me that I finally calmed down. It turned out that we were there in plenty of time. Everyone was still at the hotel, and we still had a little time to socialize before going out dancing. I talked a little bit with Wendy, whose face I remembered, but otherwise didn’t know. She’s quiet but nice. I should talk with her more. Most fun to talk to was Deedee. She’s a lawyer and had strong advice for me to stay in the closet at work, and in general, to slow down a bit from my current pace. Ah, for the first time, I can easily name everyone in the group photo. Jessica, Ashley, Tiffany, Deedee, Erica, me, and Wendy. Erica, like last week, was critical and full of advice for me. It’s a good thing, for now anyway. Also, this week Ashley paid more attention to me, and I felt more included. She helped me pose for the camera. I still take such bad pictures!  Jessica is a victim. An admirer there cornered her and talked to her the whole time we were at the hotel. I don’t know. She says she has a bit of a dirty old man fetish, and she likes to be objectified, and is totally submissive and likes to let people have their way with her. So, was she ok with that at the hotel? Maybe so. I would think she’d rather be socializing with the rest of us, but, maybe not. I came over to her a couple of times under the pretense of getting my drink, interrupting the two of them and giving her an escape route if she wanted it. She never took it. Oh well.

Five of us piled into one car to go to Club Cafe then. The club was fun, but nothing too wild or crazy happened. I danced a little bit with Jessica, a little bit with Tiffany, a little bit with the girls as a group, but really, didn’t dance all that much. All five of us spent much of the night brushing off three particularly persistent men. And you know, each of us would do that with varying degrees of efficiency. At one extreme, Ashley would have nothing to do with them and would dispatch them instantly with a single comment. At the other extreme, Jessica was an easy mark. At one point toward the end of the evening, the DJ spun “Last Dance” and I went to get Jessica on her feet. When I approached, she shouted something like, “he has my shoes!” Yes, like a school yard tormentor, her predator had taken her shoes. When he saw he was busted he immediately handed them over, looking embarrassed. Jessica put them on, complaining of his misbehavior. I got her on the dance floor and, while it didn’t turn out to be the last dance, at least it was the end of lechy leeches for the evening. You know, the rest of the people there are great. I met Rod, who was remembered us from last week and whom I remembered as the best dancer on the floor.

After dancing, we followed about the same routine as last week, only backwards. Jessica and I still got dropped on the street, but this time closer to her place than mine, so the plan was to walk to her place and crash for the night. Also, tonight I was the one in heels and she was the one who had brought sneakers to change into for the walk. We stopped at 7-11 to get snacks and were sitting on the street when a funny thing happened. Jessica was unusually spooked and concerned about safety that night, and one of us had just said something about police when a police cruiser appeared at the intersection right in front of us. Jessica was sure we were about to get hassled and the two of us were talking about it when the light changed and the police car turned and drove off. Right behind the police car was an ambulance. As it turned the opposite direction, the driver leaned out the window and yelled in disgusted voice, “You are so fucking lucky!” We blinked and saw that he was yelling, not at us, but at a car that was stopped square in the middle of the intersection. In our self-absorbed insecurity, we hadn’t noticed this car run the red light right in front of the cop, and then stop in the middle of the intersection, not knowing what to do. It’s nice sometimes to be reminded that the world doesn’t revolve around you.

At Jessica’s place, she wanted to play but I disappointed her by going straight to sleep. I had to get up and work in a few hours. The next morning I had a new challenge — I had to get dressed and go home, only with no makeup except for huge mascara smudges under my eyes. I think I never would have made it without my experience of going to GNO last week with my makeup unfinished. I felt so self-conscious then, but later decided it had to be mostly in my head. So this morning I was able to remind myself not to be so self-conscious, but just hold my head up and go do it. I was leaving at about the same time as Jessica’s roommate, Kate. We didn’t exactly walk out the door together, but when I got to the train station, I headed for the line at Dunkin and she was there in line. I came up behind her and said something like, “Hi Kate, Omg, I’ve got to have my Dunkin.” I had a lesson for me then. She barely acknowledged me, grabbed her coffee and then ran off in an instant. I realized my faux pas: She was looking her best and trying her best to pass. Here I was dressed in my now-rumpled glam and with my face looking like a mud puddle. The last thing in the world she needed was this morning-after drag queen striking up a conversation and calling attention to her. Seconds later, I ran into her again on the platform. She looked around, saw that the platform was empty but for us, and called out to me, now being friendly and talkative. I apologized to her, she apologized to me, and we were fine.

Home, showered, phone message from Lynn was waiting. We had to make plans for going to the game! Now, first of all, I know I said once that I hate football, but you know, I don’t really hate it. It’s just not something I would normally choose to watch. Going to a game is a big deal though. Tickets are hard to get. And anyway…I’m such a sucker for doing anything with Lynn and now in particular, since I’d worried I might lose her as a friend, I was absolutely thrilled when she called me on Friday and asked me to come to the game with her. I hesitated for only a couple of seconds, considering that I would have to cancel my plans of going to the pool party, before accepting.