Jessica Simpson and me

Sunday I’d planned to meet Jacquelin. We hadn’t planned any details, so I called her (noonish?) to plan. She wasn’t home and never returned my call, so there was the second day of the weekend where plans fell through. I was sitting around in the afternoon doing not much of anything, when Deedee called. Her shopping partner had also canceled on her, she was shopping anyway, and wanted to know if I’d join her. Of course! She said she’d be there in 30 minutes. I said no problems, 30 minutes would be plenty for me to do makeup. In practice, I spent 10 minutes in the bathroom getting cleaned up, 10 minutes changing clothes, and then she arrived when I’d done next to nothing in the way of makeup. I had her come in and wait a few minutes while I did quick makeup, and we were off to Susanna, where she wanted to buy some things that she had seen in the store when the two of us were there the week before. We got there with just 15 minutes before the store was closing, which should have been enough to purchase a couple of items spotted before, but Deedee wasn’t watching the clock. She took her time browsing, trying on different things, and telling stories to the sales people. I was embarrassed. Deedee was just having the best time shopping. The sales people were patient and polite, knowing that they were making one last sale. Deedee finally bought pants and a top, and we were out of there and on the road. Deedee had said she wanted to look at shoes at Macy’s. I figured we’d drive to a nearby Macy’s, but no, Deedee drove and drove, actually passing right by a couple of Macy’s. I had the whole evening with no plans, so submitted to the kidnapping without question. We ended up at the Macy’s by her house in Salem, with an hour left to shop for shoes. I guess she had been in this store and knew where things were and had some specific things in mind to look for. After browsing around just a little bit, I remembered why I don’t shop for shoes at Macy’s–they only carry sizes up to 10, and no wides. I just don’t fit comfortably into a true 10. I need a 10W or 11. I was watching Deedee try on shoes though, and a couple of them were running half a size large. She wanted me to try on some Jessica Simpson ankle boots, and sure enough, the fit was ok. Not just perfect, as I didn’t like the way my little toe bulged out the side, but they were comfortable enough, and Deedee reassured me over and over that the bulge wasn’t noticeable. She ended up buying them for me for a present. The were on sale, and then the clerk ended up putting them in the wrong box and ringing them up from the bar code on the box, which made them even cheaper. $130 shoes for $41, and given to me as a gift. Wonderful, just wonderful. Deedee wanted to drive me home then, but I protested and insisted that she just put me on the train. In that case, she said, she had time for dinner. She took me to Fins, one of the nicer places in Salem, we had a wonderful dinner, which she paid for as well. I rode home on the train a very happy girl.

Writing Jan 28, 2008 here, let me write up an interesting discrimination story that happened to us at Macy’s. We browsed shoes a bit together when we first walked in the shoe department, then I was wanting to spend time looking at all the different brands, while Deedee was eager to try on some shoe in particular. We agreed to split up and she walked over near the display of the shoe she wanted and sat down, expecting to be waited on. (They were rather expensive shoes…) There were at least two sales associates in the department, but Deedee was ignored. She waited, displaying patience, but of course with growing frustration. At some point, a SA approached me and asked if she could help me with anything. “No thank you, I’m just browsing for now, but I believe my FRIEND is interested in trying on something.” What happened there? Transprejudice? It wouldn’t seem so, as I’m sure I was as easily readable as Deedee. To us anyway, it seemed obvious that it was Deedee that was waiting to be helped, while I was not displaying any indications that I wanted or needed help. Why ask me instead of her? Is this age prejudice? Something else about appearance? I suppose they could have pleaded deniable by saying they thought Deedee was just waiting for me to finish, that they couldn’t pick up eye contact because of Deedee’s dark glasses. It seems much more likely that they somehow found me more approachable than Deedee. Weird.

DO something

Saturday I woke up to find an email from Trista saying she had to cancel on me. We’d planned to go shopping together. I hope I didn’t scare her, offend her, or otherwise put her off in some way. Later in the day I was having an interesting chat with Gabriella. It was a lazy Saturday, we were both just sitting around at home, dressed for absolutely no one but ourselves, and at one point we started comparing our appearances. She was wearing full makeup. She says she always is in makeup because it makes her feel like a woman. My face was bare. Um…now I don’t remember what either of us were wearing, but I think we were both wearing pretty much tomboy clothes–jeans, sneakers, that sort of thing. She has her natural hair and 9 month old breasts, I’ve got my wig and breast forms. So we both claimed to need to DO something to “feel like a woman.” For me, it was just wearing the wig and breast forms. That would involve no extra effort for her, so for her, what she did was wear makeup. Fun to think about where we are on the TG landscape, and where else we could be. We could be sitting around not doing anything “extra” to feminize ourselves, or we could be doing more, or we could be doing different things. Anyway, short on cash, I stayed home that night. No dancing.

Club hopping

Thursday, um…I lost my notes for this day. Don’t remember it now.

Friday was Sisters, of course. Another good night with no big issues. Ashley counted 13 for the night. There are 11 in the group photo. Missing from the photo is Mary. Not sure who the other person was. It was fun to see Mary. I knew her from my BDSM days some three or four years ago. I barely remembered her, I don’t think she didn’t remember me, but I remembered enough details from an intimate night spent together to make her smile. After the Witherspoon closed, a few of us went to Club Cafe, where we just happened to run into a couple other sisters, Dina and Danielle. They had been to Jacques, and had picked up a guy there and brought him to Club Cafe. What fun! Their story was that there was a second guy that was supposed to come with them but he disappeared. It was fun to watch them interact with this guy at Club Cafe. Once we found them, we were all over the girls, talking, telling stories, and just being girlfriends. We did talk to the guy some, but really the poor guy kind of got pushed out of the spotlight. Afterward, I walked to Rise, found Deedee right away, we danced for 90 minutes or so, and bugged out early.

Sonia down the drain

Wednesday, January 24, I stopped in Uno after work for dinner at the bar, went home and did lots of laundry, then came back to Uno to drink. Happy at the end of night, I called Jessica, went to visit her, slept over. We played first and she was just on fire. In the morning, finger combed my hair the best I could, and took the train home to get cleaned up. I was worried about what my face looked like, but there was this baby on train that I totally passed for. Probably just a year old, but so much fun to play faces with. Home, a look in the mirror showed that my makeup had held up remarkably well over night. I washed my face over the sink, looked in the mirror again, and there was Kyle. Amazing, just amazing to see the transformation that fast.

Who’s Charlie?

Tuesday, January 23, I went and got my nails done as if I were going Natick, but then ended up not going. The weather had turned bitter cold, I didn’t have a ride lined up, and didn’t feel like walking in the cold. An excellent alternative was watching L word at Diva. The show ended, everyone was leaving, I wanted to drink more, so I went to Charlie’s Kitchen. While I was there, I got a text from Alex and started trading messages with him. “What are you doing?” “Getting drunk in Charlie’s Kitchen” “Who’s Charlie?” I asked the bartender, heard the history of the place, and started to text back to Alex. Before I could finish, he had sent two messages, then my phone rang! Jealous! Of course it was easy to calm him down once he understood that “Charlie’s Kitchen” was a public bar. It was good to talk to him, good to hear that he is back in town, but we made no promises to see each other or anything.

Also that evening, I learned about about the medical adhesive I’d bought some time back. Almost all of my clothes were dirty, and I was down to the convertible bras, which don’t have a lot of coverage. Concerned about the breast forms toppling out of the little cups, I decided to try the adhesive again. Now, when I had tried it before, my goal was keeping the breast forms in place while dancing. I found that sweat dissolves the glue and and makes just a big slimy mess, so I hadn’t used this stuff since. Tonight, with cool weather, no dancing, and anyway, I seem to sweat much these days anyway, the adhesive adhered. It was a new physical experience, and a really nice one! With the weight of the breast forms hanging on my skin, they really felt part of me. The bra really felt like it was holding *me* up, rather than holding breast forms against me. Fun stuff, I loved it.

Dinner dressed

Monday, January 22. I met Sheila after work and we had dinner at Uno. Normally after work, I wouldn’t be dressed, but I since dinner with a friend isn’t quite like quick shopping on the way home, I took clothes with me, dressed in the unisex bathroom at the end of the day and went to meet Sheila dressed. She was waiting in Harvard Station, I saw her from across the lobby and started walking toward her. She looked at me, and looked away. I stopped right in front of her, and she looked startled that someone would approach her, then finally she recognized me. We shared a pizza and caught up on stuff, she went home, I went to Diva before going home. Hmm…sometime that day, I ran into Dennis waiting at a bus stop. It was good to see him and know that he was doing ok.

First First Event!

Too busy to write. Too lame of an excuse! I have to pick up, Friday before last? Too much to remember! The first meeting of Sisters of Boston was a huge success. 28 people showed up, everything was picture perfect, I accepted my nomination as group moderator, we went to Flash’s again afterwards, then hm…I think I came home because I was out of money.

Saturday, dunno, except I danced to Craig Mitchell at Rise. Didn’t follow through on my idea to practice dance steps, but I remember paying a lot of attention to others and watching myself in the mirror a lot. Was pleased with my progress in feminine posture and movement. Sunday, danced to Craig again at Church, then went to Rise for night three of the MLK trifecta. At church, I ended up drinking quite a bit again and getting rather silly, at one point dancing on the stage with a big cluster of balloons, twirling them all around me.

Monday, MLK day, went to Diva lounge. Tuesday, skipped Natick because it was bitter cold and I didn’t have a ride lined up and didn’t want to walk in the cold. Went to Uno Pizza in Harvard Square instead. Drank, Jessica joined me, drank more, slept with Jessica.

Wednesday was the first night of First Event, and the pool party. I wore my green tankini and had a great time. Especially liked meeting Jacquelin, a cute little post-op. Took advantage of one of the free massages. Planned to ride the bus home with Jessica and Stacy, but we had made a bad assumption about the bus route, and missed it by waiting at the wrong stop. Jessica and Stacy called a cab, I went to the hotel bar to drink. I bet Stacy was pissed at me for not sharing the cost of the cab, but, I was selfish. I put off the immediate pain of the cab for for the immediate pleasure of drinking. My memory is a little fuzzy then, but I think Danielle gave me a ride home and I went to bed and slept. That’s Danielle at right. Sadly, I have no picture of Jacquelin.

Thursday, took the bus to the hotel again. The morning was wasted getting up late, suffering a train delay, and then waiting forever for the inefficient registration desk at First Event. I went to two workshops in the afternoon. “Healing the traumatized heart” was sort of touchy feely and not really my thing, but it was the only workshop at 1pm. I joked with the presenter before it started that my short experience dressing had been all positive and that I wasn’t sure my heart had suffered any trauma. The best I could come up with when it was my turn to share was that I wished someone would have suggested to me that I might be trans about 30 years ago. I tossed it out lightly, but who knows, there could be something deep there somewhere. “Out or stealth after transition, pros and cons of each route” was kind of bizarre. Turns out the presenter, while full time TS, had never lived stealth, and that worse, she she often seemed to be using the term “stealth” as a synonym for “closeted.” I guess workshops on the first day are like that. The schedulers know that most people won’t take that day off work and so the workshops will be poorly attended, so the schedule the weakest or newest presenters on that day. Newest would include Ashley, who had her workshop scheduled opposite the stealth one. It was very well attended and was a huge success. I did hear one criticism of it—I overheard someone saying “it was a workshop on blending, and the presenter was wearing a miniskirt!” After workshops I was back at the bar, drinking lots of margaritas Eventually got invited up to someone’s room. A Michelle somebody and a guy. We played until 10 or so, then I excused myself, dressed, and went to catch the bus home (now with knowledge of the correct bus stop!) On the way out of the hotel, made one last pass through the bar to say goodbye to whomever was there. Jackie happened to be there! I went right up to her and kissed her on the lips. She immediately offered to give me a ride home, presumably after we went up to her room for a while. I turned to Wendy, who was standing beside us watching with eyes wide, and said “what do you think, can I trust her?” Wendy just froze with…what did her expression say? Huge smile of amusement, eyebrows halfway up her forehead, I don’t know what she was thinking. “You’re right. Thanks, Wendy” I said, turned and waved goodbye to everyone, and ran out to catch the bus. Back in Somerville, 11:30 was just too early to go home. I went to Diva, drank more, went across the street to have a hotdog, stumbled home.

Friday morning, woke up with a little over an hour to get ready before I needed to go catch the bus. Theoretically enough time, but I was dragging with head still very muddy from last night’s alcohol. I did the barest essentials. Disturbingly, didn’t find my bank card anywhere. I know I used it to pay my tab at Diva the night before. Couldn’t remember what I did with it after that. No time for a complete search through the mess of clothes on the floor, I had enough cash to get me through the day, so I ran out the door. Managed to get to the hotel in time for the first workshop, but I sure wasn’t made up very well. Waiting for the first session to start, my cell phone rang. Knowing my voice would be rough in my morning hangover state, I concentrated on making it high and clear. “Good morning, this is Sonia!” I sang into the phone, in a voice that came out remarkably clear and feminine. A pause, then, “Is Kyle there?” Not thinking clearly, I answered “ah, this is Kyle” in a voice that wasn’t quite as good but still typical for my Sonia voice. “Um, Kyle? This is Muazzez…” Oh crap. The secretary from work. She was calling to tell me I’d forgotten to sign some forms that had to be signed that day. “Oh, crap…” I said. As we talked, still not thinking clearly, my voice dropped little by little until it was some weird mix of Sonia and Kyle. Why couldn’t I have thought fast enough to continue singing, “Kyle? Oh yes, hold on, just a second. KYLE!!!” rub the phone against my blouse, and then continue in classic Kyle voice, “Hello? Oh, hi Muazzez!…” So anyway, can’t wait to see what questions I face at work tomorrow.

Choosing among the first workshops was tough. Thursday was over and the good workshops were on. I chose “Diagnostic Reform of Gender Identity Disorder” which was about different thoughts on updating the DSM, including the possibility of removing GID altogether. I thought it would be good background information for me when I go to think about picking a gender therapist, getting hormones, or considering surgery, or just getting a “carry letter.” I suppose it was, but gosh I would have liked to see some of those other workshops. After lunch, still thinking of which issues are most pressing for me, I went to “Coming out to Family and Children” and “Legal aspects of Gender Identity and Gender Expression in the Workplace.” Hung out with people in the bar for a bit, then around 6:00, took the bus back to sign the stupid form at work, look for my bank card, and get something to eat. There wasn’t but a few minutes to look for the card, but I got the others done and got back to the hotel at 9:00. Found Ashley, we went to the Sheraton for Sisters. We ended up with 12 girls. Not bad at all considering that most of our regulars were still back at First Event. 11:30, the Sheraton bar closed and we went back to the Marriott. There I ran into Jean. Jean whom I met at Jacques even before my first time to GNO. We had been wanting to hook up for months, so the deal for the night was done the instant our eyes connected. She was good, very good, and … well, it was special. Far more special than I ever would have guessed. Saturday morning then, I was downstairs for the workshops wearing my clothes from the day before. Think anyone noticed? The first workshop I chose was a panel of several doctors. Excellent choice for me. Excellent introduction to some of the names and personalities. It proved valuable later that night for being able to join in conversation with the TSes. I used my last ten dollars for lunch then before afternoon workshops. At 1:00, I went to “What we can learn from each other” which was sort of an introduction to the TG spectrum. While I have a pretty good handle on this already, the workshop was led by one of the leading gender therapists, and she’d chosen an excellent panel of people to represent different points on the spectrum. Very good, very enlightening. After that, “Respect within our community”, about sensitivity when talking to other TGs, or about other TGs. Again, very well done, very valuable, especially for me as a Sisters Moderator. At 4:00, I dashed home to shower, shave, and change into a nice dress for the evening awards banquet. At 7:00, I was back, and picking where to sit. I ended up sitting with some of the Natick girls, which was nice. The awards banquet, well, I can say I’ve done it now. After the banquet, I ended up tagging along with Laura. We went to her room and hung out for a bit, then at midnight, Laura had to go open Dr. Z’s suite to start the party there. I hung out there for most of the night. Had a very good time, then not having any place to go, tagged along with the last people left at the party–Diamondique, Scott from New York, and…someone else. We went to Scott’s room, played, danced, and finally, for 10 or 15 minutes as the sun was rising outside slept. Home Sunday, I tried to stay up, but couldn’t do anything productive. Climbed in bed and slept for a few hours.

Bleh, that was just kind of an outline of the weekend. Much, MUCH more happened. I really had a great time. Much better than I expected. Can’t wait to do it again!

Sonia in Genderland

I’d better catch up my journal before yet another long weekend. I’ve got a bit of a lingering cold of some sort. I know I shouldn’t be going out, but after my experience last weekend, I know better than to make silly promises!

Last night I stayed home, believe it or not. Chatted with Gail for the first time, which was nice. Around 11, said goodnight to everyone to go clean my room. I’d been drinking tea and was wide awake. Didn’t end up in bed until after 2. I know, I know, I’m not helping myself get over this cold.

Tonight is THE big night–the first gathering of Sisters of Boston. I’m so excited. I was being silly with Ashley last night. I remembered that I had promised her that I would wear a miniskirt and halter top to honor her on the first night, but here it was the night before, and I had nothing like that in my closet and no money to go buy anything at the last minute. I emailed Ashley in a pretend panic, saying I remembered the promise but had nothing to wear. She of course said come as you are, I reassured her that I was teasing and that dressing me was the *last* thing in the world she had to worry about. And, really, considering that this is a first impression on the hotel, I think having one Ashley is enough. I may end up wearing my denim mini though! I could do the brown tights and brown boots again, and maintain some modesty while still giving a subtle nod to Ashley’s mini. Erica’s coming over to dress here and then give me a ride. I’ll email Tony and encourage him to come. I have exactly eight dollars left in my wallet in case we go to Machine, otherwise money is uncertain until midnight Saturday when my paycheck should clear. If it clears before then, I can drink, contribute money to Sisters, go to Rise later, and Venu on Saturday. Worst case, I take better care of my cold for one more day, then go to Rise Saturday. Rise Saturday will be great–Craig Mitchell and Joakim Eskaban. Sunday is already planned as well. Deedee is coming at 3:30 in the afternoon, we’re shopping at Susanna on Mass Ave, probably more shopping somewhere else like Copley, a nice dinner somewhere–she was talking about the Seaport something or other, and then the premier of a new Sunday dance night at Rumor, with, yes, Craig Mitchell again! Rise afterward to complete the MLK trifecta. Nn, it’s going to be a great weekend, as long as I survive!

Between all this fun and excitement, I’m all full of worries though. Some is silly and inconsequential. I want to learn to dance better. I’m going to study some steps at home and then try to practice them at clubs over the weekend, as well as do my usual routine of trying to watch and imitate, and mostly just feel the beat. To move to the beat, to try to “loosen up”, move fluidly, move my whole body, move different parts of my body at the same time, vary the routine instead of just repeating the same moves all the time, be artistic, interpretive, and check in the mirror that my poses stay feminine.

More seriously, I’m still not doing well at learning people. I was confessing this to Deedee and she wasn’t much help. She just said something like “omg, you’ve got to work on that.” I mentioned the names of four ggs who are regulars there, all young and pretty, and told Deedee that I couldn’t associate faces with any of them. “Why is that?” I complained to her. “Because you’re not seeing them as people” she answered. She explained that I’m seeing them as generic instances of young pretty girls, and that’s why they’re not memorable as individuals. She’s absolutely right. Why do I do this? Why is this so hard for me? And, it’s not just the girls. I don’t know the guys either. I don’t know the staff. Mm, my therapist needs to hear this, not you.

*Sigh* and that’s just at Rise. I have as many insecurities everywhere else. I was actually depressed after finishing “Alice in Genderland” recently. I identified with a lot of what she went through, and yet, she *mastered* all of these things where I’m barely scratching the surface yet. I’m especially envious of her perfecting the “craft” of dressing, as she put it. All the little secrets of illusion, and the vast territory of women’s clothing, shoes, hair, makeup, and so on. Female mannerisms, female voice. I’m envious of how widely she traipsed over the TG landscape, exploring so many clubs and so many different sub-cultures. I dunno, I guess I shouldn’t be too envious for not having done in five months what she did over a period of decades. But still. It’s also sobering to see what finally worked for her. Although my situation is very different, it makes me think about possibilities for my future. It makes me think about possibilities for the future of many of my CD friends. So many possibilities, but so few of them stable over any amount of time.