Vanity is in the Eye of the Beholder

Having commented on a friend’s recent post on this subject, and gotten a bit carried away in my response (with apologies to her), I figured the proper place for my long-winded thoughts should be on my own blog, and here it is.

Walk a Mile in Someone Else’s Shoes -  It’s Uncomfortable

We t-girls, coming to femininity as men, are psychologically unprepared for the exponentially greater fuss we must make about our appearance.  Oftentimes, it ends up feeling vain and overdone to us.

Can’t You Just Throw Something On?

Real women spend a great deal of time primping and preening – often to the chagrin of their endlessly waiting partners.  By the time they are ready to go out, they have changed clothes several times, agonized over which earrings are best, hair up or down? oh, these hose just aren’t right… and left a holy mess in their wake in their “rush” to get ready.

It all never made sense to me as a guy, but I have clued in since then…

A Look Inside the Lady’s Dressing Room

It turns out that a black skirt is not a black skirt… they are narrow… or short… or too short… or heavy… or light… or high-waisted… or flared… and they just won’t go with those pair of black shoes that are either too high… or low… or funky… or make my legs look

dumpy or whatever with that skirt… Or maybe, it was just the wrong hose… too opaque… too sheer… pantyhose or stockings?  stay-ups or garters?  And that top… too much cleavage… or a bit frumpy?  or too long, maybe… and we haven’t even started on the jewellery…

By the time I’m done, half my wardrobe is in a heap on the floor and I am climbing over it as I affix my heeled pumps to my feet on the way out the door.  (Which purse am I taking?)

And, we haven’t even discussed makeup… smoky eyes, subtle eyes… oops, I made a mistake… damn! my hair just will not behave!  and oh, that shade of lipstick makes me look like a hooker… or maybe, it’s just this top…

Harder For Us

Genetic girls have put up with this throughout their lives and so, for them, it has always been this way and it is what they need to do to be properly groomed.  Guys throw on pants, shirt, jacket, socks and shoes and they’re done.  It’s quite a change to now start fussing, I know. 

And whatever women have to do, and however long it takes them with all their experience, here we are – novices – and our task is so much more difficult, having to disguise our masculinity on top of everything else.

Undercover Angel

When women fuss and worry about their looks, it is only whether they look a little better or worse – call it vanity if you wish.  But for us – or at least me – I’m not so much worried that people won’t think I’m beautiful, as that they won’t think I’m a girl at all!  The only bar I need to clear is the one where people think of me and refer to me as “she.”

Trouble is, when you’re a guy inside that makeup and dress, if you aren’t pretty, well, you’re busted!

So, what may look and feel like vanity is, for me, survival.

I suppose if you’re at an age where the sexes seem to converge in appearance (usually either teenage on one side or senior on the other), or can and do look like someone’s aunt, you can pass much more easily.  But, none of those applies to me.

The Woman Inside

I will admit that internally, I need to feel beautiful, and to think that I make an attractive female.  I will not be an ugly or mannish girl; I would sooner stop the whole thing. Unlike a genetic woman who has to accept any limitations she may have in terms of her appearance, I do not… at least not as a woman. I do this for my pleasure, so if it ends up weighing on my self-esteem when I look in the mirror, it is not productive for me to continue it.

External Validation

Beyond the obsession with our looks, t-girls do tend to seek out and hope for external praise.  But again, I’m going to give us all a pass on any negative connotation that may hold.

I believe that we seek out external praise largely because we don’t have confidence in our own perspective – and wisely so. In my case, I recognize that what a GG has learned over her lifetime about herself and her place in the world will not be assimilated by me in less time, if ever. So external praise is as much perspective as it is vanity.

The other part of perspective comes from seeing others in our community, and what they are doing and wearing and what was the reaction to them.  Those among us who go out and test the waters and report back do the rest of us a great service in learning about ourselves and the world around us and our place in it.

Pole Dancing

Continuing from my last post, the lap-dancing portion was just about done.

All that was left was to climb away from the chair and slowly squat before the seated phantom man, then one leg at a time, onto the knees, then performing what apparently is an all-purpose move, undulating your hips in the all-fours position, almost bouncing them up and down.  I absolutely could not master this relatively simple movement (misplaced hips again, I’d say, and maybe some lack of coordination), but it did look hot on the others. 

Then over onto one side.

Floor Routine

Lying on the floor, the lower leg bent at 90 degrees flat on the floor, the other similarly bent, foot standing on the floor, knee pointed to the ceiling, heels touching each other.  Now, we rotate the upper knee down to the lower and back up, opening and closing what they call “the oyster.”

Then, from the open position, grasping your ankle, straightening the upper leg so that the tip of the shoe points skyward, all the while trying to smile as if this was not uncomfortable.

Returning to the oyster position, then over onto the knees, facing away from him, leaning way back and letting your hair fall, swirling it around a bit, then arching your back up into an upright position, slowly getting up and walking away, looking back over your shoulder, our phantom man must have been quite primed…

Now onto the pole…

Right hand up, left hand across, left leg bent around the pole… lean towards the leg and whoosh!  …you spin around the pole and gracefully land on your feet.  Not as simple as it looks, but with just a little practice it looks pretty good. 

Right hand up, left hand across, right leg bent backwards around the pole (knee in front)… same drill… whoosh!  even easier, and more impressive, but requires a bit more faith in your strength.

Got That?  Try This!

Finally, a short routine… with the pole to your left, hold it with an outstretched left hand, and wrap your left ankle around it, keeping your knee high.  Now, do the body wave – hard enough on two legs my dear – and then lean away from the pole, limp, hair falling towards the floor… now bring your head in a large circle, down towards the pole, up and around and back to the starting position, whipping it as best you can (without banging your head into the pole)… then, gracefully take your foot away from the pole, keeping it in the air, and extend it straight out in front of you, still holding the pole for balance…  now swing it all the

way back, so that it is pointing straight back and your head and torso are pointing straight down to the floor…  then, arch your back and make eye contact, and slowly return to a standing position.

Everyone got a turn trying these moves, and then the class was over.  I learned that my back is pretty stiff and my hips need to be loosened up if I’m going to be able to do this stuff, so that’s on the To Do List.

Work That Body!

After an hour or so at the bar, relaxing, talking and having a drink, I went back to the pole.  No one was around, so I went at it pretty hard for a good half hour, practicing all the moves we were taught, both pole dancing and lap dancing.  The music was good, so I also danced alone, almost for a rest between the other moves.

I tell you, by the end I was spent.  What a workout!  I’m going to look into getting a pole for myself.  That way, I can get fit and sexy at the same time…

Lap-Dancing

A couple of women at a swinger’s club I like have secured a weekly gig there arranging a more creative and social sort of evening.

They had a Trench-Coat Night, inviting participants to arrive in a trench coat, with lingerie underneath.  What a deliciously risqué  idea!

And, there was a blindfold night, heightening the other senses.

Hands Up and Face the Wall

Recently, I attended their pole-dancing class.  I’d invited a friend from the club along, but she colorfully demurred, saying she preferred dancing on a different kind of pole.

Turns out, the pole dancing class included a lesson in lap dancing as well.  Oh my!

The routine the instructor developed had us start facing the wall, hands up – kinda like the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, I thought. 

Ok, Janie, now pay attention!

Swing your Hips, Baby!

Now, we were to swing our hips in a circular motion, clockwise, then counter-clockwise, then running one hand sensuously down our torso on onto the hip, we turned under the other arm and leaned back against the wall.

Peeling ourselves off the wall from ass to head created a sexy movement and arch in our back.

Then, we were to take a step forward and do this undulating body wave.  Everyone had some difficulty with it, but I was particularly dysfunctional – no doubt, I reasoned, because my hips are in the wrong place (girls hips are relatively higher).

Then, a sexy walk towards an empty chair, pushing the knees of the phantom man in the chair together and stepping over him to either side.  Then, swirling the hips in his face before withdrawing the way we came in, taking a step back and turning our backs to him.

Bend Over, This Won’t Hurt a Bit

Now, bending over, legs straight, head down, tossing our hair to and fro as we looked though our legs at him, then climbing our hands up our legs as we shifted our asses out to one side, looking over our shoulder and slapping that cheek.

Turning then towards him and placing the point of our shoe on the chair between his legs, looking him in the eye with vixen-ish sultriness and doing that body wave, bring the chest to his face and back.

It was at this point that I became a bit self-conscious, wondering how I’d ever be able to do this to a man without laughing at myself.  It may have been sexy, but it was so unnatural!  At that moment, I nibbled off yet another nugget of understanding about the experience of real women.

“No matter,” I thought, “this is important to men, and I will master it.”  Hopefully, it’ll make me feel sexy and womanly too, cuz that’s the main reason I came for this class.  But so far, I was just feeling out of my element.

Inside and Out

Last time, I discussed some of the issues involved in posting my photos online, first disguised by a wig and makeup, and then later without.

To re-quote the relevant parts of my comments:

Posting my first photos was as much liberating as it was scary, but I was wearing a wig and a lot of makeup, and I carefully disguised any background that might be familiar. Trouble was, there was also a part of me that looked at those photos and didn’t see myself either. In fact, I would scour the photos and eliminate those where I looked too much like myself.

This didn’t really sit well with the gurl inside, though.

Over time – not that long, actually – I have made changes to my physical self (nothing artifical, though) so that I appear more feminine and don’t need a disguise. So, I dropped the wig, cut back on the makeup and can now feel that the photos have more truth in them, if you know what I mean.

I would add that one of the things that bothered me most about wearing a wig and tons of makeup was that I felt that not only was that girl not really me, but that I wasn’t really a girl at all – it was all put on.  Trans skeptics may chortle at that cryptic statement, saying something to the effect of, “Duh!”, but to scoff is to betray ignorance. 

I am really a girl now.  That’s me you see in my pictures.  I’m smooth and soft and feminine.  I look like a girl and I feel like one.  Yes, I know there’s a guy in there too – I haven’t lost my mind.  He gets to come out and play plenty.  But when I’m Claire, I’m a girl; no reservations.

That’s not to say that my appearance is what makes me a girl; it just adds coherence to my existence and makes me feel a lot better about myself.   I am that girl and she is me.  Inside and out.

There are lots of t-girls who are unable to pass, either because they are, in a physical sense, undeniably men, or because life’s constraints prevent them from taking the necessary steps they’d love to take to feminize themselves.  They are no less girls than I am, though I presume they are more conflicted due to the disconnect between their inner and outer selves.

In the Pink

Following on about blogging awards (Glamorous Blog Chain Mail Award), I have just now created an all-new award of dubious impor tance, which I christen the “In the Pink Award.”

A bit about the award and its name. 

The phrase “In the Pink” has been known to cause giggles among the immature, no doubt due to the possible  sexual connotation, as in reference to the pink areas of one’s body – and I see no reason not to think of it that way too.  But, in truth, it refers to excellence of condition. 

“Pink” has been used to refer to the essence of something (as in “This is the very pink of perfection!”), and is, of course, the iconic girlie color – and my personal favorite.  

For all these reasons, a blog that I determine to be “In the Pink” is one that, in my opinion, is on the mark, excellent, and a personal favorite. 

I hereby nominate Gabrielle Hermosa’s blog, My CD Life, for the very first award.  She is one of the very best I’ve read.  She has it all – beauty, brains and integrity.  Check her out – you won’t be disappointed.  

One of her recent posts explores the feelings of posting your first t-girl picture online and the process of becoming comfortable with it.  Her way of writing is thought-provoking, and draws you in and warmly invites participation and sharing of experiences.

This is what I shared on the topic over on her site:

I don’t have any childhood CD experiences, so I’m going through an accelerated adult process, I guess. Posting my first photos was as much liberating as it was scary, but I was wearing a wig and a lot of makeup, and I carefully disguised any background that might be familiar. Trouble was, there was also a part of me that looked at those photos and didn’t see myself either. In fact, I would scour the photos and eliminate those where I looked too much like myself.

This didn’t really sit well with the gurl inside, though.

Over time – not that long, actually – I have made changes to my physical self (nothing artifical, though) so that I appear more feminine and don’t need a disguise. So, I dropped the wig, cut back on the makeup and can now feel that the photos have more truth in them, if you know what I mean.

Of course, now if anyone I know sees my photos, I will be instantly recognized, which is a brand new fear. As awful as that prospect is, sometimes I wonder if I am purposely tempting fate.

I didn’t even realize I felt that way until I read her post and these thoughts came into my head. 

Sometimes, talking with smart friends is better than having a shrink.  And so, after reading her blog, I too am “In the Pink.”

Philz Turkish Blend

When I finally woke up a bit, I added another few seconds about my coffee…

Sleepy Girl in a Sexy Leotard

Maybe a bit too early in the morning for me, but I felt like talking about laser treatments and leotards and such. Kisses..

 

Glamorous Blog Chain Mail Award

I am flattered, and moved by my recent receipt of this award from a cherished friend and blogger, whose witty and well-written words can be found at http://voyagesenrose.blogspot.com/ .

“I… I don’t know who to thank… there are so many people…  well, I’d certainly like to thank the Academy, and everyone who voted for me… and my parents for having me…  and, oh my dear, yes!  there’s Al Gore, for inventing the internet, and Schoolhouse Rock for all those conjunctions and other words I use…”

While I now know first-hand how pleasant it can be to wake up to such an honor, the responsibilities attached to it present me with a dilemma.

I have been asked to confer this honor on 10 deserving bloggers of my choosing.  To me, this smacks of chain-mail – wrapped in the nicest, softest package, yes – but chain-mail nonetheless.

After heart-wrenching consideration, I respectfully decline to do so, knowing full-well that the Academy may revoke my award and the fantastical perks that go with it.

My readers know which blogs I respect and admire, because I list them in my Blogroll, and in exceptional circumstances, do a feature post on them.  So, a list of Award Winners is not going to turn my readers on to new blogs or provide a helpful spike in traffic for my friends; rather, anyone left off the list may rightfully be offended.

In this respect, I am also unwilling to take the chance of being a source of annoyance to any of my valued friends who may take offence at the responsibilities I bestow upon them.  (Know for certain, that I take no offence at you, my dear Petra.)

And finally, the insidiousness of chain-mail comes from its design to multiply exponentially, so that after the first person sends out her ten awards, the recipients’ cooperation will produce 100 to the next group, followed quickly by 1,000 and 10,000. 

It strikes me that an award that ends up being given to everyone is not much in the way of real recognition.

However, in the spirit of the award, I’d like to take this opportunity to direct readers’ attention to the side panel, where you will find a list of blogs I recommend, written by people I like.

Having felt how nice getting “recognized” (even in quotes) is, I think it might be nice for me to create an award of my own, free of any strings attached, and confer it from time to time on those whom I deem deserving.  Care to collaborate, Petra?

My First Try at Vlogging

Resolutions, If I Hafta

I still don’t really feel like it, but how will I beat myself down in 6 months, if I don’t have a yardstick with which to do it?

I’d like to repeat some nice ideas from last year, because they are inspiring enough to have convinced me to write this list in the first place, and I didn’t really measure up last year:

• I will treat each minute of each day as a precious gift, not to be wasted.
• I will strive always to see the positive in every challenge, every situation and every person.
• I will try to be guided by the ideal that everyone whose life I touch should be the better for it. That means being kind and generous and helpful.

And, my new ones – “aim low and exceed expectations” is my motto for this year!

• I will learn 2 fabulous new skills.
• I will transform this site and learn all about how to make a better blogging experience for all of you.

If I finish these, I’ll go back and pick up the ones I missed last year.

Looking Back at 2009

Ok, ok.

Writing that last post got me thinking about last year’s resolutions, and even more so, about what I had accomplished, or not.

Clearly, there were no earth-shattering changes to this blog – as I’d hoped, but I did manage to get a video on my blog before year-end, and this year I will definitely do some blogs by talking into a camera rather than typing.

I promised to meet more t-girls, and I did that too.  I went to Fantasia, as I had the year before, but also added a trip to Las Vegas and one to Southern Comfort in Atlanta.  Getting to know different groups of gals, and noticing where there were overlaps was fabulous and rewarding, and I probably cherish my new friends above all the things I accomplished last year.

I admit to being lazy about going to monthly meetups locally, and maybe I will try that again this year.

Looking back on’09, there were a number of firsts for me…

I registered my domain name www.cdjanie.com which makes me very happy; putting my site there would be even better!

I flew on a plane in a skirt and t-shirt!

I went to a hair salon and got a totally feminine hairdo!

And, I even expanded my sexual horizons a teenie-tiny bit!

Baby steps I know, but I’ll be patient with myself…

Starting 2010

Usually, at this time of year, I am full of resolutions for the coming months, but somehow this year, I have nothing at all on that front.

Of course, I still have lots of ideas for self-improvement, and things I’d like to try, as well as new ideas for this blog.  But somehow, I just don’t feel like making resolutions.

That could be taken as a sign that I’m a little down and simply not in the mood.  But I think it is more that I just want to get to it, rather than making any grand pronouncements about what I am going to do.

After all, one of the main reasons to make resolutions, especially public ones, is to produce a yardstick against which to measure yourself, and an inducement not to embarrass yourself in front of all those people who know what you promised to do.

All I’m going to promise today is to be better tomorrow.

Best wishes again for a great 2010!

New Year Glitter

Best wishes for the New Year to everyone! 

May your year sparkle with excitement and every cloud have a silver lining!

(There’s one more picture over on my Naughty site.)

Merry Christmas in Photos

Here’s a slideshow of some more of my Xmas pics.

 

Once again, happy holidays to everyone.  Hope you get the gifts you hoped for!  I’m going to start my celebration with a wee dram of some fancy scotch and see where it takes me. 

First Few Christmas Pictures

Well, just in under the wire, here are a few shots of me in my favorite Christmas dress.

 

I hope you like them.

Merry Christmas!

Multiple Personality Disorder

I think it’s a fairly common thing among us t-girls to be “enthusiastic” shoppers.  We do love our clothes, and shoes, don’t we?

There are times when I find it hard to walk past a clothing store without wanting to go in and try something on.  I started to think that it was almost pathological.

One explanation that occurred to me is that I still don’t know who I am. 

I have been, all my life, a lover of women… and women of many kinds – from the cute, innocent girl-next-door to the hot vixen, from the bleached blonde beach babe to the dark and sultry brunette, from the farmer’s daughter to the smart urbanite, from the bohemian artist to the prim and proper secretary, etc.

When I am shopping, I’m attracted to clothes that would give me the look of a woman I would be attracted to.  But with my net cast so wide, much too much appeals to me. 

I have to find my own look, or I am going to bankrupt myself!

Tgirl might just as well stand for Transformer-Girl.  Since I wasn’t a girl to begin with, all of this is a transformation of sorts, and I find myself wanting to be all the kinds of girls I like.

With the evolution of my feminine self, I am going to have to find my one true feminine persona and just be her.

That’ll be a lot less expensive.

10 Things I Love About Having a TG Spouse

I hope you’ll indulge me one more post that relates to my October trip to Provincetown, MA.

I had every intention of making this year’s trip to Cape Cod a relaxing and slow-paced affair; I promised myself this week would be about just hanging out and thinking about stuff. Didn’t quite work out that way, but I’m still happy I went.

I still marvel at the mess I made of packing for this trip, taking so much stuff and not having anything appropriate to wear half the time! Also, because I was excited to make the most of the great bargains I had found in Philadelphia, my feet were so sore from wearing one new pair of shoes after the other that I had absolutely no choice but to wear my clodhopper boy shoes all day on the Friday – note to self: be sure to buy a girly version of these. The oddball outfit I concocted was something to behold.

Shopping in P’town was hit and miss. Given all the 50%-off sale signs, I decided that I’d look for a nice sweatshirt and girly baseball cap for cheap. But despite stepping into probably 10 stores, there was nothing acceptable, nothing without “Provincetown” or “Cape Cod” or the Red Sox emblem on it that was discounted. On the other hand, I did manage to pick up two super bargains at Eros: a great leather and nylon crop-top and a chain-mail negligé – you’ll have to wait to see those. And, of course, there was that insane shopping spree at Wardrobe!

In our never-ending search for just the right place to sit and chill, we once decided to use the Hospitality Suite during the afternoon, but our plan was thwarted by the presence of a class/seminar called 10 Things I Love About My TG Relationship. They were enthusiastic about having us stay and participate, going so far as to show me a list that they had previously compiled and asking for our input. It was surprising – almost to the point of being unsettling – how similar are the experiences of this group of vastly different people and how many of the things on the list resonated with us!

But, interesting or not, we had other things on our minds, and we left after a few minutes.

That list of 10 things women love about their TG spouse… you wanted it, didn’t you? Well, here it is:

10 Things I Love About Having a TG Spouse

Serious

1. The sweet person that you fell in love with has a feminine side
   
2. You chose him for a reason
   
3. Some of the things that attracted you are from the femme side of his personality
   
4. His look is one of the things that you noticed
   
5. The way her reacts to you
   
6. The way he really wants to understand you
   
7. The way he deals with his mom (or yours), his sister, grandmother, aunts
   
8. When he says that he loves everything about you, he really means it
   
9. He really wants to spend time just being with you
   
10. When he says he will never hurt you, he really means it
    

Silly

1. He understands the need for six black skirts
   
2. He understands the need for six black purses
   
3. He understands the need to go shoe shopping
   
4. He understands that you feel better if your underwear matches
   
5. He really wants to see what not to wear
   
6. He loves to people-watch
   
7. He loves to be a member of the fashion police
   
8. He understands that some curse words are really offensive
   
9. He will watch chick flicks with you
   
10. He will loan you his stuff
    

Simple

1. You never run out of shampoo, conditioner, shaving gel, razors, pantyhose, mascara, blue eye shadow
   
2. The only person in the world that will hold you while you have cramps and say “If I could have them for you, I would” and mean it
   
3. When you nurse your child, the look in his eyes
   
4. When he says you look beautiful when you are eight months pregnant, he really means it
   
5. He understands that giving birth is a miracle
   
6. He never laughs when you cry at romantic movies
   
7. He can and will hold you when you cry
   
8. The hurt look when you do lash out at him
   
9. He can hold a conversation
   
10. He really does want to know what you are thinking
    

Let’s hear your comments. I couldn’t believe how many of these applied to my relationship! There were only about 3 in total that we couldn’t relate to.

 

 

Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving, and I think it does me a lot of good to stop and consider all of the wonderful things in my life for which I am thankful, and to acknowledge how generous and wonderful people have been to me.

Sure, things can always be better – fill in whatever is on your personal agenda as an example – but if we don’t stop to recognize how far we’ve come, and how fortunate we are, we’ll never be happy.

There’s nothing wrong with striving for improvement – in fact, I’m sure it’s critical that we do; but sometimes just thinking of how much worse it could be (or was, or is elsewhere) can make us understand how very good we have it here and now.

And, that’s what I think Thanksgiving is all about.  Perhaps not only to think of how good things are, but to also think of those for whom things are not quite so good.  And, to understand that so much of what makes life so good is not within my control but rather a result of either the efforts and good-heartedness of others or just sheer good luck!

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

 

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Dancing at the Club

Believe it or not, this club was fun… as you can see from the photos, I pretty much had the dancefloor to myself late at night, but the fact is that the action in this club was elsewhere by that time, if you get my drift.

     

This one gal came out – a pretty girl with spiked and dyed short red hair – easily 6 feet tall – dressed very skimpily, and started dancing by herself in her bare feet.  She moved so gracefully, her heels almost never touching the ground as if some invisible stilettos were underfoot, her hips undulating to the music… so feminine, so erotic… she was lost in herself…  Soon, she was doing things with the pole that I could only dream about… (I know there are two ways to take that, and yes, I mean them both!)

I’ll keep working at it…

Naked Before the Camera

There are all sorts of ways of exposing yourself, some erotic, some embarrassing (some both!), some philosophical, some illegal… but most do carry some risk – either physical or emotional.

Psychiatrists have made a living off the question of why we feel some form of shame about our bodies, and many have blamed the whole thing on the repressed sexuality of old patriarchal religions.  I am certainly not in any position to proclaim anything on the subject other than what I personally feel, that’s for sure.

What I do feel is that being naked, in any of the ways I described at the outset, means that all layers of protection are stripped away, and you are utterly vulnerable, defenseless.  There is a certain excitement to that which is intoxicating, but you have no protection from insult or injury, no place to hide, every flaw apparent.

There is no fallback position, no pretense, not even any pockets…

I think it would be awful if ever I felt totally comfortable being laid bare before others; that feeling is arousing and sensuous, even if it is a bit scary.  That is why nudism is totally unappealing to me – to get used to being naked is not what I’d consider a positive achievement.

It may not be quite the same thing as taking off my clothes to simply post a photo of myself without a speck of makeup or jewelry, but there is a sort of delicious vulnerability to it nonetheless.  That’s me, without pretense, without improvement, without help. 

I’m in your hands.  Handle me with care.

I’ve Got a New Tool

Looking at the title – which was innocently drafted – it strikes me that the most benign of phrases can contain vulgar sexual innuendo.  Oh, well!

The actual point of this blog post is to try out Windows Live Writer, the program with which this is being written.  I wonder how this will turn out and whether it will make things easier for me…

I’ll start by including a photo album:

View Full Album

There, that’s something I’ve never done before and it was easy.

Next, I’ll grab a photo from my flickr account.

That took two seconds, and not the ten steps it normally takes.  It’s there, it’s linked, it’s done.

There is another little add-in that makes the photo look like it is framed and can be tilted.  I grabbed an internet photo for an example.  Not elegant but can be made to work and is another feature I haven’t had at my disposal until now.

Can I add my only youtube video?  

Well, gee that took three clicks!

Unfortunately, even though the editor allows me to resize this video, it publishes at its full size.  There’s one strike.

I think I’ve bored you enough with my new toy.  So let’s take this baby out for a spin and publish ‘er!

Next time, maybe I’ll write about something…

Goodbye Fantasia for Another Year

Our Fantasia experience was winding down, and it was time to say goodbye to those who weren’t going back to the hospitality suite, including my potential guitarist for next year’s Follies. The club started playing some 1980s disco to close out the night, tunes like Celebration, You Make Me Feel Mighty Real, Hot Stuff, etc. We were saying good bye, but the wives wanted to dance to this stuff, and who (she says, cringing) were we to say no?

The songs soon ended and then it was really goodbye. I’m sure we’ll see them at Southern Comfort next year, and meanwhile, we have an act to plan!

If truth can be found in the bottle, then we also have a (fairly drunk) new admirer from home, and not a bad looker either. It will be interesting to see whether anything comes of that…

The hospitality suite was only across the street, but by the time I managed to pry the door open, my feet were killing me again, and I staggered through the door with a staccato, "Owww… oww… ow!" to guffaws of laughter. (Where’s the sympathy, empathy, support and understanding?)

Off came the boots that seemed to have fused themselves into the bones of my feet during the last chorus of Disco Inferno, and my feet hurt even in stockings alone! I kept looking at my feet to be sure my boots were, indeed, off! It took a few minutes for them to decompress. I kinda wanted to avoid nerve damage, y’know!

We sat and talked with various people for a while, though I was too tired to make conversation. One of our friends came over and made us laugh; her company was so enjoyable all week long, and I am certainly going to miss her through the year!

More girls kept showing up as we got into the wee hours of the morning, and we knew most everyone. That’s such an amazing thing about this event. I almost always keep to myself when I’m thrown into a big group, but for some reason, I have gotten to know a lot of the girls and we all genuinely like each other! Sounds like hooey, but that’s the way it is!

We also found out that two of our friends, with whom our friendship has flourished on this trip completely separately from one another, happen to live near each other and know each other very well. It’s funny how that works.

When it came time to say goodbye (that was when we were so tired, we weren’t sure we could walk the 50 feet to our room), it took an hour, with promises of seeing each other during the year and making it back to Provincetown next year. I even had to promise to be in the show. It was touching to be so warmly treated, and told, most sincerely, that we are now part of the family. There was some talk of us going to one of their events, or them coming to visit our fair city, and who knows, it may happen. But Fantasia #36 waits in the background; in case we can’t connect on our own, it will be there to ensure that we all have a place to come and renew and revive our friendships.

I hobbled back to the room, we packed and went to sleep; it was 4:30 am.

After the Follies

After the show, we congratulated our friend – a local who does a terrific impression of Phyllis Diller – and some of the other acts on their performances. I know what a high it can be after a show, being the center of attention and all.

But seriously, there was free food over at the dance club, probably getting cold every minute we wasted!

Yes, yes, we had dinner. But everywhere we went, everyone was making a fuss over GF’s outfit, and scarcely anyone even had the courtesy to even mutter an obligatory “You look good too,” to me. That kind of disregard can drive a girl to… eat! And they had all my most fattening faves – an all-you-can stuff-into-your-corset buffet of piggies in a blanket, mini quiches, meatballs, cheese cubs, crackers, and sandwiches on croissants – they made sure each mouthful was at least 500 calories.

Fortunately, as I intimated, and you can see from the photos, I was wearing a corset, snugly fitted, so that I couldn’t really eat much. I know I looked damn good, but sometimes GF simply outshines me! It wouldn’t be fair if I got all the attention, now would it? I get plenty… mostly from her! She is happy to leave the spotlight to me, and was a bit surprised by all the attention she was getting, though I wasn’t – I was just hoping that someone would find the time to notice me as well…

I had saved my feet all day but they were killing me again, so I sat down. That didn’t do me any favors in the attention-getting department either. But, using GF’s radiance, we managed to reel in a couple of friends for conversation, one of whom was in the show. We thought she was pretty good, but her wife was not that impressed, and she herself thought she’d been better before. She did relate what must have been a fun experience for her, and one I’d love to have seen – the singer/piano player in the hotel bar, who does lots of show tunes, let her sit on the piano and lip-synch to his songs during his show.

I also may have found a partner-in-crime for next year’s Follies – a backup musician to my singing. And her friend apparently knows Chuck Berry pretty well! Maybe we can do a little tribute… News as it becomes available, only on this channel!

The bench was getting crowded with girls who couldn’t walk any more, and it was pretty funny. But a couple of the more lively (and drunk) girls got us up dancing, and despite my poor tootsies, we danced for a half hour and had a very nice time. I decided it was my duty, as a t-girl, to ignore the pain that would cause a real (read: sane) woman to remove her shoes, and dance in my sexy heels and move my body gracefully to the music, as if I was feeling all sexy and groovy.

I must have succeeded. I even noticed a few guys looking me up and down – ah, my adoring public! I haven’t often been on the other end of the full-scan look-over that guys can’t seem to help doing to a girl that catches their attention. And, I didn’t mind… I know what it’s like to be unable to stop your eyes from doing that, and you just hope she doesn’t notice – because women tend to get offended by such things. I was just glad someone could focus on me… it didn’t hurt that GF was on the other side of the dancefloor.

(Note about these two photos: these are two people, whom we found to be very quiet since we met them last year, and through Southern Comfort and into this Fantasia Fair. Turns out there’s a whole other side to them! Goll, darn!)

Lobster Done Right and then The Follies

Before dinner, we stopped by the port and cheese spread that the hotel has put out every day and we have missed every day. There were still people there, but no wine and no cheese. Missed it again!

We met one of the Fair organizers there – a girl who had strongly suggested last year that I drop the wig and go with my own hair. She is a really sweet person and she’s still giving me hair advice. Thanks V!

We stayed a while and talked, but we had to go before we ended up without dinner again, so we made our excuses and were on our way back to the Lobster Pot for a proper lobster dinner this time.

The Peach Cosmo I had was properly pink, but a really lame drink, it must be said. Fortunately, they are much more expert in their handling of lobster, which was succulent and sweet and altogether yummy. I do love Surf and Turf, and they offer a nice deal on a steak as an add-on to the lobster, so we saved a bit of money by ordering that instead of two lobster dinners. We started with lobster bisque and shrimp cocktail.

Shrimp cocktail is a noble appetizer, and these shrimp were quite delicious. But, the best thing about shrimp cocktail has always been the pornographic playfulness you can have with it. Have a look… (almost got caught, hee hee!)

The lobster is a tactile and undignified animalistic experience, breaking shells and sucking out flesh… but utterly sensuous too! Messy, loud, butter glistening on your lips and fingers, and the haunting taste of this delicacy, made all the better with a little flute of champagne. We were having a special occasion, no doubt… you could tell by the bibs we were wearing… very distinguished!

We finished up just in time to walk over to the Follies Talent Show. No doubt, there’s pretty fair talent within the group. The lip-synching is generally not my fave but the song selection and stage presence made it very entertaining; I don’t know where they found these peculiar, funny and musically enjoyable songs. There were also original acts, musical, comedic and dramatic. And there was a serious side to all this; the show raised money for a local aids organization. One of our friends who is involved with it got up on stage to encourage donations and revealed that she has been HIV-positive for a number of years…She’s fine, but the medication she has to take is so very expensive and government programs don’t cover everything, so donations are critical.

My friend from the wine and cheese affair came to the show vamped up in a slinky red number and ready to do what was necessary to get her bucket filled with contributions for the cause. For my little donation, I got a delicious kiss and a smile; I’ll be making that contribution again, you can be sure!

During the intermission I was fooling around with camera taking pics of myself when I get tapped on the shoulder and look around to see a semi-familiar face in reddish hair. “Tracy,” she says, smiling – and I immediately recognize last year’s striking blond as this equally fetching redhead. (See my story from last year.) I was so happy to see her, but we only got to talk for a couple of minutes before the second half of the show started. Pretty well all we had time for besides the warm hellos was for her to encourage me to come to First Event and for me to encourage her to make the trip to Las Vegas. (See Viva Las Vegas, Baby!) I didn’t see her again after the show, but I held out hope that she’d show up later at the hospitality suite as she had last year. She didn’t.

I have to say that this was the first time during the trip that a relationship I had from last year did not improve substantially during my time at the Fair this year… and she was one of the people I was most looking forward to seeing! It just goes to show you that things never turn out as planned, and often they turn out so much better! People I had met only briefly last year have become so generous and friendly to me and I reciprocated these feelings completely. The deepening of these relationships is the most profound thing I will take home with me from this trip, and I hope to see these people during the year and again next year.

Dinner for Four

On our way to dinner, we met up with a couple of the Fantasia stalwarts in the hotel bar. They were enjoying a quiet drink but we struck up an easy conversation and could have talked for hours if not for the fact that we had to get ready for dinner. I didn’t even get a chance to do my hair properly or shave but threw on one of my newly bought dresses, and newly bought shoes, and looked pretty nice if I don’t say so myself.

Dinner was pleasant and it was nice to see a couple that seemed in a lot more trouble last year on the road to reconciliation. There is still quite a hill to climb, but they’re on the road. Still, you can feel the stress as you touch the points of contention, but they do seem to love each other, so whether they end up back together or remain apart, it looks hopeful that they will still have each other, which is great.

We’re tired – did I mention that before? So we’re finally going to make an early night of it!