What happens at First Event, stays at First Event

Friday Sisters was great. I loved the interesting mix of people we had. We had no one very new to cross dressing but we had a few first time Sisters, a few relatively new to Sisters, one returning after a couple of months away from dressing, and a number of Sisters regulars. I loved meeting Mimi, who has been a CD in the Boston area for decades and who told stories going back farther than I had ever heard anyone tell. I’m hoping to hear lots of stories from her in the future. I think she was there with Deborah, who is fully transitioned and works as a family practice doctor right in Davis Square where I live! She could be my new doctor. How cool would that be? I understand that both Mimi and Deborah live near me there in Somerville as well. I said to them that we probably pass each other on the sidewalk all the time and we just never knew! Let’s see, who else is in the group photo that I remember?… Sabrina was cute in a Tinkerbell decorated t-shirt that she got at Walmart, worn with an urban-camo mini and white hose. I sat next to Terri from Florida, who was with us for the first time. I’m afraid I wasn’t as friendly to her as I should have been though. I don’t know why it was hard for me…I let myself be distracted with people I was more interested in and didn’t give her the attention I should have. *sigh* I’m learning. Jackie, whom I’d met at Natick, was at Sisters for the first time. It was fun to see her there and apparently completely comfortable, busily being friendly with everyone, even though she was new to the group and really still very new to being out in public. Jacinda was there! She said she was glad to be out again, but still she seemed in a kind of reserved mood. Lauren was there and also fitting right in. Other regulars there were me, Ashley, Wendy, Deedee, and Tony. Seen last by this group when it was GNO, Diamondique was there! She went around the table for introductions saying “I know you, I know you…” When she got to me she let out a little laugh, saying “I know you a little too well.” Everyone around me looked at me with their eyes wide. “You know Diamondique” they asked, thinking that she hadn’t been with our group since before my time. In fact…I’d have to review group photos to say for sure…but I think I first saw her in mid-July that very first time I came to GNO with Jessica. Anyway, I started to answer their questions with “Oh yes, Diamondique and I…” then I caught myself and said “well, let’s just say that what happens at First Event, stays at First Event.” I’m so bad, I know.

I hadn’t mentioned Eva yet. We’d traded a few emails before Friday and become friends and she came to my house to give me a ride that night. After the Sheraton, there was no organized group going out on the town and I went with Eva back to her hotel room in Watertown. It was so nice just to hang out and be girlfriends. We talked, listened to music, danced, took pictures, and just had simple, innocent, and perfect evening.

Three pounds this week

I’m always late. Last night I could have gone home after work, changed, and got to the boat house on time. Instead, got home and wasted time poking at my face in the mirror, and got to the boat house about 10 minutes late. Why? Why do I have to be like that? Anyway, Alex texted me about the time I got home, said he was at La Spina. So sweet. Last night the last text I sent him ended “…but, hey, you know? I miss ya. We should go out again some time soon” so poof, here he was. So he waited a couple of hours at the bar while I did my thing, and I caught up to him about 8:30. We have fun together, but I’m not sure we’re good for each other. Each of us had excuses for why we didn’t want to drink too much but then what did we do, but drink all night and get totally wasted. At La Spina, Steve and Holly were frazzled running the restaurant and bar by themselves when all of the floor staff failed to show up for work. Special, hm? Holly wasn’t even scheduled to work but was there with a college friend, Marsha, and Marsha’s friend Nothan. We ate and drank there, then the six of us moved to Gargoyles, and then to Noir. Alex paid at La Spina, Steve at Gargoyles, and me at Noir. Wow, really great cocktails at all three places.

I’m still nervous about the boat house. You know, so far I haven’t had to do much coming out because I tried to be out as much as possible right from the start. The boat house is different because here is a large group of people that knew me before, and now I’m appearing as someone completely different. Let me back up here and document last Saturday. It was a work day at the boat house, we assembled and launched all of the boats to prepare for opening day this Saturday. It was a little strange for me, not just because I’m Sonia now, but because as Kyle, I was so inept at social interaction. I interacted with people so weakly that I didn’t even learn that many people’s names. Now, a year and a half later, I had forgotten most of the few names that I once knew. I was pretty much forced to trade introductions with everyone, just so I could know their names. I introduced myself as Sonia, people would tell me their names, and then we would work. Sitting in La Spina, telling Alex how I spent Saturday working on boats, he asked me if I came out to the people there, and with eyes wide, I answered no. He asked something then about being afraid to tell them about Sonia and I corrected him, saying “no, I haven’t told them that I used to be Kyle!” I worked on boats with them all day long, and not a single person called me on it. Am I being strangely deceptive? I don’t really think so. I did tell most people that I used to sail here, that I didn’t sail last summer but I sailed there for three years before that. Anyone who wanted could have used that as free information to talk more about my past, but no one did. You know, I’ll happily come out to people if it seems relevant, at the time though, it just seemed like it would have been more strange to come out than to just introduce myself as Sonia and leave things at that. Like, what would I have said, “Hi you might remember me from two years ago, but sorry, I really don’t remember you even though we sailed together for three years because I was such a strange introverted guy back then, but now I’m on Prozac and I’m a bubbly tranny!” They would have thought to themselves, “Yeah, I remember you well, always living in your own little world and oblivious to everything around you. So, we’re here to work on boats and you’re your telling me about your mental problems and gender identity issues. Um, you’re different how?” It seemed much easier to start over from scratch, then talk about such personal things as Prozac and panties once I’ve established some friendships. Nn, so, last night was training for volunteer instructors. I went because I always should have done that when I was sailing before and so with the Prozac, I should be able to do it now. Being a tranny is relevant in the situation of dealing with the public and representing the boating organization, so I’m going to approach it pretty cautiously. I want to talk to the training director and put everything on the table and see how he feels about me teaching. You know, I’ll assert my right to sail there, but I’m not sure I have the right to force the organization to let me represent them to the public. If the director says he doesn’t want me, then fine, I’m just sailing and not teaching. I’m hoping though, that I get to teach.

What else. Work today went well. My first programming task is a simple one that I know how to do. It should be a good start.

Tonight is Sisters. I’m leaving now to change, call Eva, and try to talk her into coming.

Weight today 157.

Take a lesson from a tranny

Went to Grendel’s Den and then Charlie’s Kitchen last night. The food, drinks, and conversation were nice. The hangover today isn’t.

I saw my therapist just two days ago; today I saw the psychiatrist that prescribes the medication. I was easy for her because I told her I was happy with the prescription and didn’t want anything changed. She typed notes in the computer while I rambled on about this and that, but when I said I was planning on going full time in a couple of weeks she stopped and looked straight at me and said, “you’re what?” (lol) I had to repeat it so she knew that she heard what she thought she heard, then I went on to explain my logic. She smiled and eventually went back to typing notes.

This afternoon at work I found out that I’m getting a bunch of new work and responsibilities dumped on me. Omg, my calm, slow life is about to get crazy.

I’m leaving now to go to the boat house for volunteer instructor training. I always wanted to do that when I was sailing in 03, 04, and 05. My Prozac has erased my inhibitions from volunteering now, but I have some new doubts. I’m worried about having the time available to teach classes, but more, I’m worried about driving away members that don’t want to take a sailing class from a tranny. I have no idea how much either of those will be a problem. One way to find out…

Oh, and I did go on that bike ride yesterday. Weight yesterday morning, 160. Weight this morning, 159. Magic, hm?

Life on estrogen

Sadly, I’m going to let a couple of weeks go undocumented here. Some cool stuff happened, fun nights out, sexual escapades, I got my hip pads in the mail, my face is looking great after my last laser treatment, I bought some clothes, I sailed, I bicycled, I talked to a couple of lawyers about legal stuff, and I’ve been talking to HR about coming to work as Sonia. Looks like that might happen in a couple of weeks or so. So to get restarted on writing, I’ll start back just 24 hours.

Yesterday about this time I went to see the therapist. I think it had only been three weeks since I saw her last but so much had happened, I just talked as fast as I could and then the time was up. Kind of strange, really. Not sure we communicated much. It sure would be nice to, like, have all afternoon for a visit, and maybe have a couple of visits a week.

After that I walked home, stopping in the goodwill store along the way. I bought three things, a bright raspberry linen blouse, a lacy wrap, and a necklace. A woman was talking to me in line, saying that she had that wrap in her hand, and that she loved it, but that she wasn’t sure it would fit her. She was a tiny little thing. Sure enough, when I got it home, it was no where near big enough for me to wear. What was I thinking? The necklace I have in mind converting to an anklet. Black beads on a metal chain that I should be able to shorten easily enough.

The blouse was perfect though, and I wore it that night to Natick. Wore it with my brown crochet wrap, bronze pearls, brown decorated peasant skirt, hip pads (yeah!!) thigh-highs, brown boots, gold bangles. Kristen complimented me on the outfit, saying it looked bohemian. As always, I had a great time talking with people there. The only strange part was that Danielle seemed to be in a sour mood and then left early. A few minutes after she left, Jennifer started started to talk about her, with a couple of people eagerly listening. I turned to Lauren, saying “Oh, they’re going to gossip about Danielle. I don’t want to hear that.” and the two of us talked about other stuff.

I called Danielle today around lunch time, just to be a friend. She wanted to talk, but she kept somewhat to generalities. She was upset, even more so than I had guessed the night before, and I’m afraid I didn’t have words to console her. I dunno, hope it helped just to have someone show concern.

I walked into Charlie’s Kitchen after that for lunch. The bartender said hi, how are you, and and I answered fine, but still thinking about life on estrogen, I answered kind of slowly and tentatively. She looked up at that, so I explained that I just had a difficult phone call and said, “I don’t know how you women do it. I don’t know how you deal with each other’s emotions.” She laughed and said “that’s why I don’t hang out with them.”

Currently I’m just wasting the afternoon at work. I think I’ll leave early and go for a bike ride.

Sleeveless Transsexuality

Sunday morning I just never got around to sleeping. At noon was this screening I wanted to see of a 30 minute film called “Toilet Training” about problems transgenders have using public restroom facilities. The film was good, but then there was a panel discussion that started with each of the seven panelists introducing themselves and then answering a question from the moderator. I couldn’t stay awake for this. I was too tired and it was too boring. I really think it was the format though. I think the questions and responses were prepared in advance because they were delivered in such a flat monotone. In contrast, following the questions from the moderator, were questions from the audience. These held my attention…of course, it could just be that I was more alert after a little nap… These questions were stimulating and I really wanted to jump in and discuss them, but that wasn’t the format. One guy for example, was talking about how well he blended and said that he didn’t wear his transsexuality on his sleeve. I really wanted to point out to him that he’s claiming to blend at an all-women’s college, while presenting as a man, and point out that as far as sleeves go, he was wearing a long sleeve men’s shirt in a brown plaid. And point out that my shirt, on the other hand, a decorated powder blue t-shirt a size too small for me, had sleeves cut right up to my shoulders. Eh, probably a good thing the format didn’t allow for me to open my mouth.

Another person from the audience observed that unisex restrooms are generally “handicapped” restrooms and asked if disabled people are desexualized by culture, or if transgendered people are seen as disabled by culture. People generally agreed with both conjectures, but I don’t see it like that at all. Sure there might be some of that going on, but it has nothing to do with there only being one single-stall restroom for both groups. I see it as a simple practicality. We’re a small percentagle of the total number of people that have to pee. We’ll get bigger and more restrooms when there is always a line at the handicapped restroom. I’m just not seeing that happening yet. As far as lumping us together. It makes fine sense to me. We have similar needs–some of us want a little extra privacy, some of us need a little extra space. What, you want separate restrooms for every little different class of people? Crazy.

I guess now that I think about it, I use the men’s, women’s, or unisex restrooms according all according to the situation. I do appreciate finding a unisex single-stall restrroom if I’m out in public in some “tween” mode, if I’m going into a restroom to change something about my gender presentation in some way, or anytime I want a little extra space or privacy. Otherwise, I’m happy to use which ever restroom matches my gender presentation. Well…and then sometimes I make my restroom choice purely out of convenience. Last night I went in the the unisex restroom just because it was closest to my bar stool. The men’s and women’s rooms were farther away.

Everyone knows Sonia!

Saturday my plan was to sleep as late as possible so I’d be good for dancing. When I just couldn’t possibly make myself sleep any longer, I crawled over to the clock dreading that it would be before 10:00. Hooray, it was after 2:00! I spent the entire day then, picking at my face in the mirror. Yes, true. See, my laser treatment was a week ago, it was time for hairs to come out. Now, the laser person says they should fall out in just a couple of days with gentle exfoliation. The trouble with that is, I shave, so there’s hardly anything poking above the skin, and exfoliating with a washcloth does nothing. Now, before I had gotten the hairs to come out by pinching them like they were pimples. That worked, but was really hard on my face. I knew I was damaging my skin and afraid that the healing process would promote hair regrowth. So this time, I sat at the mirror with tweezers and pulled them out one at a time. I know, I know, instructions say specifically not to pluck hairs, but this isn’t exactly plucking. Like, when I grab one with the tweezers, it just slides out with no resistance. There’s no root attached to the hair, pulling the hair doesn’t pull the skin, there’s no pain, and so on. That can’t be bad, can it? Well it can’t be worse than pinching anyway.

Flash’s was good for me the previous night so I went there again. This time dressed at Flash’s (in between drinks) and then went to Rise when Flash’s closed. I had a really nice time at Rise. It was good to be back. One guy said hi to me (I’ve already forgotten his name, but I should know, he’s a regular there, and he told me his name.) I told him I was Sonia, and he said, “I know. Everyone knows Sonia!” He was fun to dance with but a bit intimidating because he’s a naturally good dancer, and here I’m still a clumsy beginner. Another guy said hi to me, I told him I was Sonia, and he said “I know, I used to serve you drinks at Diva.” It was Jason! He had told me that he dances at rise, but I’d never run into him before. Fun! He was there with his little brother who had just turned 21. And…he didn’t seem to be that much of a dancer. Maybe he just wasn’t feeling it that night for some reason. Anyway, had fun all night. Craig Mitchell was awesome.

Dressing in public

Well, Friday evening didn’t go well. I was depressed about stuff to begin with, then ran into transportation problems and never made it Sisters. The only part that went well was dressing at North Station. I did makeup sitting on a bench in the waiting room. This got me just a couple of brief looks. After all, it’s a train station. People do crazy stuff, ya know? At the point where the basic canvas was in place, but before any eye or lip color, I went in the men’s room, in a stall, and did bra and breast forms, coming out wearing a bulky coat and holding my backpack, nothing looked strange about me at all. Went outside on the sidewalk, waited until no one was near, flipped on the wig, unzipped my coat, and strolled back into the station as a woman, right past the MBTA police that I had passed seconds earlier as a man. Sat back down on the same bench as before and finished eye and lip makeup. Failing to make it to Sisters, I thought about going to Club Cafe to see if I would run into them there. (It turns out that I would have!) But, I was so out of the mood by then. I just wasn’t feeling like walking into a happy socializing type of atmosphere. I needed food and drink though, so I went to Flash’s. The atmosphere is quiet there, I could be left alone, and who knows…I might cheer up enough to go dancing at Rise. Food and drink was good, I spent way too much money, but it still didn’t cheer me up enough to want to go dancing. I just went home.

Thank you Baily. Thank you Jean.

Thursday–whew, I’m caught up! Thursday was last night–I was at Gendercrash with Deedee again. This week was nicer than last because I know a few people a little better. As soon as I walked in, Paige appeared in front of me, saying “Sonia! Right? Hi! I know I owe you an email.” and then disappearing. I saw Richard there, but he seemed to disappear halfway through the night. I remembered Katie from last week, although I never said hi to her. There were a number of people I recognized, but whom I don’t know yet. Andra, whom I had met on the FTMSOFFA list, read before the break, so then I knew who she was and I went and introduced myself at the break. At the end of the night I said goodnight to Gunner as I was leaving. He recognized me, which was nice, and asked if he would see me on Monday (the MTPC meeting.) I answered yes, but as I did, my voice broke and came out an octave too low. Crap. The featured reader for the night was Baily, who read a nice piece of erotica. At first as he was reading, I started to visualize myself with a woman, a generic young attractive genetic woman, then I shook myself out of that. It wasn’t quite right…what would be more appropriate for this little story being read by a transman about two genderqueer lovers? I thought immediately of Jean, and our night during First Event. It was perfect. The whole story applied, I visualized it all, it was us on that night. I had chills running through me over and over as Baily read, and I remembered. Mm. Wow. Thank you Baily. Thank you Jean.