So as is usual in our home, my four year old daughter got out of her bed and came in to ours at around 2AM. We had a LOT of trouble conceiving her after my son was born and so we both look on her as a bit of a miracle, so we do not discourage this. Besides, you only gitta be a little critter once. Anyway, somewhere in the night I roll over and hear the little one whisper.
“Poppa?” she says softly. I play possum hoping I can get back to sleep.
“Poppa?” she says a bit louder and still I try to stay asleep.
Next, I feel little hands pushing me to shake me awake and she gets even louder.
“POPPA?”
“What sweetheart?” I say, still sleepy and maybe not as nice as I would hope to be.
“Are you awake?” she says softly, as if there is any doubt.
“Yes sweetheart, I’m awake. What’s wrong baby?”
“There’s a pterodactyl under the sheets trying to eat my toes poppa.” She says matter of factually. At this point I notice she has her feet just about buried in my spleen, presumably to keep the pterodactyls away from her toes. I guess she figured if that pterodactyl was gonna eat her toes he’d damn well have to go through poppa to get to ‘em!
I did the usual parent thing where I reassured her that everything was all right, there are no pterodactyls in the world anymore, etc, etc. 20 minutes later she starts to quiet down and I think I’m outta the woods and can go back to sleep when I hear:
“Poppa? I have to go potty.” This is pretty typical stuff and nothing we haven’t done before.
“well go ahead baby,” I say, “You’re a big girl. You can go potty by yourself.” I feel the bed moving and shaking as she prepares to get out. I start to nod off again and then realize that after her first bit of movement, she is still sitting up in the bed.
“What’s the matter baby?” I asked.
“I’m afraid there might be a pterodactyl under the bed Poppa – would you go potty with me?” Took her potty and as she gets back in the bed I told her again that there are no more pterodactyls in the whole world. Apparently not quite understanding what they were talking about in her daycare when they discussed these things, she tells me:
“I know, they are stinked.” . . . . huh? I’m sleepy and didn’t quite get it myself.
“They’re what baby?” I asked
“They’re stinked Poppa. . . they’re all dead!” Ah . . . the light goes off.
“Oh, you meant they are EXTINCT!” I say.
“That’s what I said Poppa!” getting exasperated with the stupid adult again, “They’re stinked!”
So today I went in for a laser appointment. You can’t imagine how much trepidation I feel over this as I’ve tried laser once and it failed. But I’ve now had two people I know personally tell me that it has worked for them. One of them showed me pictures of before and after, and his beard was almost exactly like mine. Now it is gone. Anyway, did a lot of research and talked to a lot of people and I am convinced that the folks that treated me the first time were using both, the wrong equipment, and poorly trained techs. I have decided to risk it again.
These folks did exactly the right thing with me – she was honest. Among other things:
It will not kill all of your hair.
You WILL have to come back once or twice a year.
It will hurt.
There are no guarantees.
Okay, so I can accept coming back once or twice a year if it means I don’t have to be the bearded lady most of the time. Got all the paper work out of the way and laid down on the couch for my first treatment with these folks. Oh my God people, it had been years since I tried this and so the memory had grown vague, but that HURTS! Imagine someone taking a good thick rubber band, putting one end up against your face and pulling the other end back as far as they can . . . and then letting go so it smacks you. Now do that 30 or 40 times across your face while they also apply a hot iron to the area they just treated, and you start to get the picture of how it felt.
If you read the stuff put out by the companies that provide laser hair removal, they lie through their teeth. They tell you it is rarely painful but that some people with a low pain threshold may feel “some discomfort”. Forgive me for being blunt, but that is pure and utter bullshit. I don’t care who you are, it hurts, and it hurts bad. By the time she was done, I was shaking visibly from a combination of the pain and the nerves and my face felt like it was on fire. In Austin Texas, it is in the high 90’s (F), and so when I got in the car I thought I was gonna die of heat stroke, and my face was pulsing. Smelled bad too – smelled like burnt hair. Turned the AC on full, aimed all vents at my face and drove home. . .
With a smile on my face . . .
Feeling pretty damn good about it too!
Well, the swelling and redness went down in about an hour and by the time I got home my face looked no worse than it does when I shave closely three days in a row. Right now it feels like a sunburn but nothing serious. Keep your fingers crossed, ‘cause if it actually kills the damn hair this time, it well be WELL worth the pain.
Die beard, die!
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Indianapolis, Racism, and a touch of Depression
So I had my monthly trip to Indianapolis this last week. Usually I just can’t wait for these trips because it gives me the majority of an entire week to do the girl thing. For some reason, I just couldn’t dredge up must interest this week. I even had an entire extra day to play as I had to make a warranty service call in addition to the contract work I normally do on these trips.
The ladies at the counter of the hotel recognized me and went out of their way to chat with me a bit. That’s kind of nice as I most places I go I don’t have a lot of people to chat with.I got in at about 3PM Monday night and just couldn’t call up enough interest to get dressed up and go inflict my presence on the world. Instead, I got a bottle of whisky, some soda, and dragged my guitar out into the stairwell where the acoustics are AWESOME!. If you have ever been in a stairwell where the steps are concrete with no carpet, you might have noticed that there is a LOT of echo and this is something I like when playing and singing. Yeah, I felt a little silly at first, but as I got warmed up, and got my first drink down the hatch, I wasn’t all the worried about who I might annoy anymore.
The next night was Tuesday – usually one of my very favorite nights in Indy because I like to do Karaoke at “The Metro”. Tonight though? Nope, still feeling sort of depressed for no real reason, and just can’t dredge up the enthusiasm for getting dressed up and going out so I exorcised for a half hour or so, and headed for the stairwell with my guitar again. Before I headed for the stairs though I stopped by the front desk and played a little for one of the ladies there. She had commented that she was disappointed I hadn’t come down and played any for them the night before so I thought I’d bug her for just a moment. As I was playing, I saw her manager walk in out of the corner of my eye. At least I assumed it was her manager, figured she might not appreciate my annoying her guests and so I got up to leave. This was when they started telling me I shouldn’t leave and they were enjoying it, but at this point I felt kind of self conscious and shy – would you believe it? I thought I was over that shy stuff, but apparently it’s still lurking down there to rear it’s ugly head every once in a while.
Wednesday rolled around and I decided to eat the hotels breakfast. I’m sitting there eating while reading my book when a woman in her early to mid 60’s walks by and says
“That boys gonna wind up missing!” I had not idea what she was talking about.
“Excuse me?” I asked. She looks at the TV where Senator Obama is speaking and then back at me and repeats herself quite smugly as she started to walk away.
“That boys gonna end up missing and I had nuthin to do with it!”
I guess I am naïve because it actually took me 10 or 15 seconds to put it all together and then I just sat there stunned with my mouth hanging open. The woman looked so damned normal and yet was apparently a raving racist willing to share her opinion with others. Shouldn’t they be wearing sheets and silly hoods, or maybe a flashing yellow light to let everyone know they are freaking crazy?
Here the man had achieved the status of being a Senator in the government of the United States of America, and as far as this woman was concerned he was a “boy” to be taken out back and whooped, deserving no respect or consideration simply because he was black. One of the next thoughts that struck me was why in hell she chose to share her opinion with me? Do I look like a racist or something? What made her think I would share in her delusions – my white skin and blue eyes? The next thought to strike was that gee, if you don’t like Senator Obama, I’ll bet you will really LOVE me tonight when I get off work and head out in a skirt!
Got back to the hotel that night and I still wasn’t exactly filled with excitement at the idea of going out, but I sort of forced myself to do it anyway. Figured I was going to regret not taking the chance to do the girl thing later, when it might be weeks before I got another chance.
I recently saw a friend of mine had posted pictures in a suit just like this, but in black and blue, and so I pulled mine back outta the closet just to see what it would look like these days. I really love this suite but am a bit worried that it might not exactly be the current fashion. I had it on just for the purpose of taking pictures – I did not wear it out. I have this unique little condition called Erythema Nodosum that results in huge swollen bruises on my lower legs, and so at the moment the inside of my lower left leg is one huge bruise that is NOT pretty to see in short skirts. The only amusing thing about it is that it is almost entirely a female problem – it’s very rare for men to have it. I thought that was pretty ironic. Anyway, short skirts are out of the question for a few months so I just took the pictures at an angle where my leg doesn’t look like it belongs to a monster, and then changed into a long skirt.
This outfit has always been a favorite of mine as I think I look good in it and so I always feel confident in it. I did some shopping and then headed to a lesbian bar called “10” that I had found on line that was supposed to do Karaoke tonight. Compared to some of the places I had been, this was a pretty large place . . . with no one in it! There were maybe 8 people in it, and that’s counting the two running the Karaoke, the guy that owned the karaoke company and his boyfriend, and the bartender. Had one good laugh. The guy that owns the Karaoke company kept coming over to my table and sitting and chatting with me. I don’t think he was really flirting with me, just trying to be a good host. Anyway, his boyfriend was up on stage doing a song and pointed at me and announced over the PA system that I could flirt with his boy friend all I wanted, but “he’s going home with me!” I laughed and held my left hand up high while pointing at my wedding ring – I hoped that got my point across! These folks were perfectly nice but for some reason I just didn’t feel terribly comfortable – still not sure why. Called it a night pretty early and was back at the hotel by 1030.
Thursday night I got dressed up and did a little more shopping. Found a pink knit top at Goodwill for $2.00! I kid you not, only $2.00 and it still had the department store tag on it. Found another mall NE of Indy and went for a walk.
While I’m walking around I get a call from a good friend of mine in Indy – I wont mention her name as maybe it wouldn’t be appropriate to share her personal pain. Well, she has been married for almost 40 years and her wife does not know she cross dresses. Unlike anyone else I have met, she had no interest in cross dressing until she was in her 40’s, so it’s not that she was lying or hiding it from her spouse all these years. Anyway, she got busted – left some shoes in the car the wife never drives, and for what ever reason the wife got into the car and found them. It didn’t go well. Apparently at one point, the wife stated she would have preferred it was an affair over cross dressing. Ouch. Suffice it to say my friend, a very decent and good person, is in a lot of pain right now with forty years of marriage in serious peril.
I can’t recall the name of the department store, but their thing is to have a piano player at all times. I’ve been in a few of their stores and usually the person playing is bored to death and playing very mechanically – no art, no heart, and no feeling. I was therefore surprised to hear this lady play her heart out and sat to enjoy it for a moment. She was playing right under a dome and the best spot to hear it well was to sit exactly across from her which is what I did.
I gave her my compliments and chatted about 30 seconds with her and then headed out.
I went to “Illusions” again because they do karaoke on Thursdays. This is more of a neighborhood bar than a club scene, and in some ways I like it better for that. They also appear to like older music and country music, so I enjoy the music there more than at other places. This place was also not exactly crowded and had maybe a dozen people there – one of them passed out and sleeping on the bar stool with his head lolling backwards over his chair. He wasn’t hassling anyone and no one hassled him!
Unlike the other place though, I just felt comfortable here. Everyone there was genuinely friendly, were quick to bullshit with you, and just made you feel like one of the regulars. The bartender was very friendly always walking by and asking “You OK dear? Anything I can get you?” Since there were not a lot of people there I got to sing a lot and just had a lot of fun. The bad news is, toward the end of the night some drunk guy started to irritate the hell out of me. Invited himself to my table, started bitching about the people singing, bitching that he couldn’t play the jukebox, bitching, bitching, bitching. Someone got up and started to sing and this guy starts to almost shout though I’m only a few feet from him.
“What?” he demands. “What is he doing? What is he singing?!”
Anyway, the guy was clearly trashed, was a pain in the butt, and I had to work in the AM anyway so I called it a night at about 1130.
Someone recently asked me to start providing details about where I go and so here are a few for you:
English Ivy
944 N. Alabama
Indianapolis, Indiana 46202
This is where I eat dinner most nights when in Indy. They have great food and are very friendly.
The Metro
707 Massachusetts Ave
Karaoke on Tuesday and Thursday and sometimes the talent is amazing. Pretty young crowd that is a mix of gay and straight and is always friendly
Illusions
1446 E Washington St,
Indianapolis
Neighborhood bar that is very friendly and not so crowded as the Metro. Good Karaoke on Thursdays especially if you like Country and easy listening.
Ten
1218 N. Pennsylvania St.
Indianapolis, IN, 46202
(317) 638-5802
Lesbian bar that has Karaoke on Wed nights. Sorry, but the Karaoke here did not impress me, and while they were clearly friendly, I just didn't feel all that comfortable
The ladies at the counter of the hotel recognized me and went out of their way to chat with me a bit. That’s kind of nice as I most places I go I don’t have a lot of people to chat with.I got in at about 3PM Monday night and just couldn’t call up enough interest to get dressed up and go inflict my presence on the world. Instead, I got a bottle of whisky, some soda, and dragged my guitar out into the stairwell where the acoustics are AWESOME!. If you have ever been in a stairwell where the steps are concrete with no carpet, you might have noticed that there is a LOT of echo and this is something I like when playing and singing. Yeah, I felt a little silly at first, but as I got warmed up, and got my first drink down the hatch, I wasn’t all the worried about who I might annoy anymore.
The next night was Tuesday – usually one of my very favorite nights in Indy because I like to do Karaoke at “The Metro”. Tonight though? Nope, still feeling sort of depressed for no real reason, and just can’t dredge up the enthusiasm for getting dressed up and going out so I exorcised for a half hour or so, and headed for the stairwell with my guitar again. Before I headed for the stairs though I stopped by the front desk and played a little for one of the ladies there. She had commented that she was disappointed I hadn’t come down and played any for them the night before so I thought I’d bug her for just a moment. As I was playing, I saw her manager walk in out of the corner of my eye. At least I assumed it was her manager, figured she might not appreciate my annoying her guests and so I got up to leave. This was when they started telling me I shouldn’t leave and they were enjoying it, but at this point I felt kind of self conscious and shy – would you believe it? I thought I was over that shy stuff, but apparently it’s still lurking down there to rear it’s ugly head every once in a while.
Wednesday rolled around and I decided to eat the hotels breakfast. I’m sitting there eating while reading my book when a woman in her early to mid 60’s walks by and says
“That boys gonna wind up missing!” I had not idea what she was talking about.
“Excuse me?” I asked. She looks at the TV where Senator Obama is speaking and then back at me and repeats herself quite smugly as she started to walk away.
“That boys gonna end up missing and I had nuthin to do with it!”
I guess I am naïve because it actually took me 10 or 15 seconds to put it all together and then I just sat there stunned with my mouth hanging open. The woman looked so damned normal and yet was apparently a raving racist willing to share her opinion with others. Shouldn’t they be wearing sheets and silly hoods, or maybe a flashing yellow light to let everyone know they are freaking crazy?
Here the man had achieved the status of being a Senator in the government of the United States of America, and as far as this woman was concerned he was a “boy” to be taken out back and whooped, deserving no respect or consideration simply because he was black. One of the next thoughts that struck me was why in hell she chose to share her opinion with me? Do I look like a racist or something? What made her think I would share in her delusions – my white skin and blue eyes? The next thought to strike was that gee, if you don’t like Senator Obama, I’ll bet you will really LOVE me tonight when I get off work and head out in a skirt!
Got back to the hotel that night and I still wasn’t exactly filled with excitement at the idea of going out, but I sort of forced myself to do it anyway. Figured I was going to regret not taking the chance to do the girl thing later, when it might be weeks before I got another chance.I recently saw a friend of mine had posted pictures in a suit just like this, but in black and blue, and so I pulled mine back outta the closet just to see what it would look like these days. I really love this suite but am a bit worried that it might not exactly be the current fashion. I had it on just for the purpose of taking pictures – I did not wear it out. I have this unique little condition called Erythema Nodosum that results in huge swollen bruises on my lower legs, and so at the moment the inside of my lower left leg is one huge bruise that is NOT pretty to see in short skirts. The only amusing thing about it is that it is almost entirely a female problem – it’s very rare for men to have it. I thought that was pretty ironic. Anyway, short skirts are out of the question for a few months so I just took the pictures at an angle where my leg doesn’t look like it belongs to a monster, and then changed into a long skirt.
This outfit has always been a favorite of mine as I think I look good in it and so I always feel confident in it. I did some shopping and then headed to a lesbian bar called “10” that I had found on line that was supposed to do Karaoke tonight. Compared to some of the places I had been, this was a pretty large place . . . with no one in it! There were maybe 8 people in it, and that’s counting the two running the Karaoke, the guy that owned the karaoke company and his boyfriend, and the bartender. Had one good laugh. The guy that owns the Karaoke company kept coming over to my table and sitting and chatting with me. I don’t think he was really flirting with me, just trying to be a good host. Anyway, his boyfriend was up on stage doing a song and pointed at me and announced over the PA system that I could flirt with his boy friend all I wanted, but “he’s going home with me!” I laughed and held my left hand up high while pointing at my wedding ring – I hoped that got my point across! These folks were perfectly nice but for some reason I just didn’t feel terribly comfortable – still not sure why. Called it a night pretty early and was back at the hotel by 1030.Thursday night I got dressed up and did a little more shopping. Found a pink knit top at Goodwill for $2.00! I kid you not, only $2.00 and it still had the department store tag on it. Found another mall NE of Indy and went for a walk.
While I’m walking around I get a call from a good friend of mine in Indy – I wont mention her name as maybe it wouldn’t be appropriate to share her personal pain. Well, she has been married for almost 40 years and her wife does not know she cross dresses. Unlike anyone else I have met, she had no interest in cross dressing until she was in her 40’s, so it’s not that she was lying or hiding it from her spouse all these years. Anyway, she got busted – left some shoes in the car the wife never drives, and for what ever reason the wife got into the car and found them. It didn’t go well. Apparently at one point, the wife stated she would have preferred it was an affair over cross dressing. Ouch. Suffice it to say my friend, a very decent and good person, is in a lot of pain right now with forty years of marriage in serious peril.
I can’t recall the name of the department store, but their thing is to have a piano player at all times. I’ve been in a few of their stores and usually the person playing is bored to death and playing very mechanically – no art, no heart, and no feeling. I was therefore surprised to hear this lady play her heart out and sat to enjoy it for a moment. She was playing right under a dome and the best spot to hear it well was to sit exactly across from her which is what I did.I gave her my compliments and chatted about 30 seconds with her and then headed out.
I went to “Illusions” again because they do karaoke on Thursdays. This is more of a neighborhood bar than a club scene, and in some ways I like it better for that. They also appear to like older music and country music, so I enjoy the music there more than at other places. This place was also not exactly crowded and had maybe a dozen people there – one of them passed out and sleeping on the bar stool with his head lolling backwards over his chair. He wasn’t hassling anyone and no one hassled him!
Unlike the other place though, I just felt comfortable here. Everyone there was genuinely friendly, were quick to bullshit with you, and just made you feel like one of the regulars. The bartender was very friendly always walking by and asking “You OK dear? Anything I can get you?” Since there were not a lot of people there I got to sing a lot and just had a lot of fun. The bad news is, toward the end of the night some drunk guy started to irritate the hell out of me. Invited himself to my table, started bitching about the people singing, bitching that he couldn’t play the jukebox, bitching, bitching, bitching. Someone got up and started to sing and this guy starts to almost shout though I’m only a few feet from him.
“What?” he demands. “What is he doing? What is he singing?!”
Anyway, the guy was clearly trashed, was a pain in the butt, and I had to work in the AM anyway so I called it a night at about 1130.
Someone recently asked me to start providing details about where I go and so here are a few for you:
English Ivy
944 N. Alabama
Indianapolis, Indiana 46202
This is where I eat dinner most nights when in Indy. They have great food and are very friendly.
The Metro
707 Massachusetts Ave
Karaoke on Tuesday and Thursday and sometimes the talent is amazing. Pretty young crowd that is a mix of gay and straight and is always friendly
Illusions
1446 E Washington St,
Indianapolis
Neighborhood bar that is very friendly and not so crowded as the Metro. Good Karaoke on Thursdays especially if you like Country and easy listening.
Ten
1218 N. Pennsylvania St.
Indianapolis, IN, 46202
(317) 638-5802
Lesbian bar that has Karaoke on Wed nights. Sorry, but the Karaoke here did not impress me, and while they were clearly friendly, I just didn't feel all that comfortable
Monday, May 5, 2008
Another Cute Critter Moment
So I'm giving my four year old daughter a bath tonight and I'm washing her hair. While I'm rinsing the shampoo out of her hair I comment:
"You have such long and pretty hair. I remember when you were smaller you didn't have any hair"
"I know", she says with typical four year old bluntness, "YOU don't have much hair Poppa, its very short."
I laughed and told her "Yeah, I know, and most of it's gone huh?"
By now, I've got most most of the soap out of her hair and she looks up at me. "Yeah Poppa, you have a hole in your head." I almost lost it. I am assuming she was referring to my rather prominent bald spot but I'm not sure. :-)
"You have such long and pretty hair. I remember when you were smaller you didn't have any hair"
"I know", she says with typical four year old bluntness, "YOU don't have much hair Poppa, its very short."
I laughed and told her "Yeah, I know, and most of it's gone huh?"
By now, I've got most most of the soap out of her hair and she looks up at me. "Yeah Poppa, you have a hole in your head." I almost lost it. I am assuming she was referring to my rather prominent bald spot but I'm not sure. :-)
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Detroit City
Not a lot to write about concerning my recent trip to Detroit.
My first day there I wore pants. I keep trying to talk myself into wearing them and then changing my mind later so this time I sort of forced myself into it by bringing only two outfits. So I tried a couple of new blouses that I recently bought:
I love the look of the one on the right except . . .it works against me when it comes to the dreaded
beard.While it is not apparent in the pictures, in person the contrast between the beard free skin in the cleavage area and the beard I was trying to hide on my face was a bad thing. Having that much clear skin exposed just highlighted the beard. So I took pictures (that I quite like) and then put it aside for this other blouse and went to the mall and went shopping!
When I returned, the outside door at the end of the hall of the hotel refused to open with my room key like it is supposed to. No worries, I always ask for TWO keys for just this reason. Only problem is, the second key wont open it either. So there I am sliding the darn key over and over and I see a gentleman approaching to door from the inside. He’s still about 20 feet away when the key suddenly works and I’m in. He looks at me and smiles apologetically and tells me “I was just on the way to let you in”.
Wow, for just a moment I was being treated like a lady. He saw a lady stranded at the door and was going out of his way to help. Neat!
The next day was kind of a drag, if you will pardon the pun. I could NOT fix the instrument my company sent me here at great expense to repair. Most of the instrument can be serviced in the field, but there are some optics that must be calibrated and aligned at the factory using test and alignment fixtures the size of a work bench. Well, it seems that the problem with this instrument is one of the few that require it’s return to our factory. Got to the hotel around 130PM and forced myself to go exorcize. This is hard to do when you have an afternoon that can be spent being pretty. I just have to remind myself that if I DON’T exorcise, I will not be pleased with my appearance. I've been wanting to wear this skirt for months but it's WARM so had to wait until I was someplace cool. It has buttons up the back so can make the bottom pretty much as tight or loose as you like. The way it hugs your legs when you walk makes it feel very sexy and I think it looks classy as hell. :-)
Found a “friendly” club that was supposed to do karaoke and headed out at around 7 to find it and decide if it was a place I wanted to be. It was about an hour from my hotel so was a bit of a drive, but it looked quite nice from the outside, and also appeared to be in a pretty nice neighborhood. The only problem is, their web page had lied – there was not going to be karaoke there. I will put up with the cigarette smoke and bar atmosphere to sing and to hear singing, I will NOT put up with it just to sit and drink, so I went back to the hotel. As I’m walking down the hotels hall, I see the desk clerk approaching my room with a pair of slacks I’d put in the laundry. I’d called them several times earlier in the afternoon trying to get them before I got “dressed” to save just such an awkward moment, but apparently their laundry doesn’t get back until 9PM! So I approach as he is knocking on the door
“I believe those are mine,” I said with my biggest smile. He looks at me like I’m nuts.
“Yours?” he asks, clearly surprised that a woman was asking for slacks that he knew the guy who was staying in that room had dropped off.
“Uh huh, I called y’all about them earlier.”
Ding Ding Ding! At last I see “the” look that says he gets it.
“Oh . . . OH! Well here they are then! You have a good night now!”
Hmmm . . . I passed again, at least until I had to lead him by the nose to the point! You just never know . . .
Like I would have to tell any of you reading this, the bad news is that the life of a TG can have a number of head trips. For the most part I’ve come to terms with my head trips, but every once in a while one or two of them jump up and slap me in the face . . . hard.
Like today when I’ve got a two hour lay over in Atlanta and I decide to walk the length of the airport for the exercise rather than take the tram. As I’m walking I see the flight crew from Korean Air . For those of you that don’t fly much, I’ll fill you in on this. Korean Air must have very strict uniform rules because their flight attendants always look flawless. I’m not talking about just good, or cute, but absolutely flawless. There are four of these young women, each wearing this cute little white uniform, and each with her hair held up perfectly with a long hair pin. I kid you not, from the rear I could see that each woman’s hair pin was aligned at exactly the same angle as the next. – standing side by side they were perfectly parallel. With over 12 years active duty Army, you tend to notice these little details and appreciate the fact that it took some effort to achieve and maintain. I see I’m getting distracted from the point I wished to make. So looking at these perfect and petite young ladies, in their perfect uniforms, with their perfect hair, I was once again struck by the depression monster. All of my flaws just started screaming at me.
I’m male
I’m huge
I’m fat
I’m too tall
Even with half an inch of foundation I can’t cover the beard shadow
I’m a . . . man . . a man .. in a dress
I’m not . . . a . . .woman . . .
This is not a plea or a ploy for compliments where I’m trying to get everyone to argue with me and try and convince my I’m wrong, or I’m my own worse critic, or etc, etc. In fact that would make me intensely uncomfortable. What this is about, I suppose, is just to say that I’m human, and today I’m depressed.
My first day there I wore pants. I keep trying to talk myself into wearing them and then changing my mind later so this time I sort of forced myself into it by bringing only two outfits. So I tried a couple of new blouses that I recently bought:
I love the look of the one on the right except . . .it works against me when it comes to the dreaded
beard.While it is not apparent in the pictures, in person the contrast between the beard free skin in the cleavage area and the beard I was trying to hide on my face was a bad thing. Having that much clear skin exposed just highlighted the beard. So I took pictures (that I quite like) and then put it aside for this other blouse and went to the mall and went shopping!
When I returned, the outside door at the end of the hall of the hotel refused to open with my room key like it is supposed to. No worries, I always ask for TWO keys for just this reason. Only problem is, the second key wont open it either. So there I am sliding the darn key over and over and I see a gentleman approaching to door from the inside. He’s still about 20 feet away when the key suddenly works and I’m in. He looks at me and smiles apologetically and tells me “I was just on the way to let you in”.Wow, for just a moment I was being treated like a lady. He saw a lady stranded at the door and was going out of his way to help. Neat!
Found a “friendly” club that was supposed to do karaoke and headed out at around 7 to find it and decide if it was a place I wanted to be. It was about an hour from my hotel so was a bit of a drive, but it looked quite nice from the outside, and also appeared to be in a pretty nice neighborhood. The only problem is, their web page had lied – there was not going to be karaoke there. I will put up with the cigarette smoke and bar atmosphere to sing and to hear singing, I will NOT put up with it just to sit and drink, so I went back to the hotel. As I’m walking down the hotels hall, I see the desk clerk approaching my room with a pair of slacks I’d put in the laundry. I’d called them several times earlier in the afternoon trying to get them before I got “dressed” to save just such an awkward moment, but apparently their laundry doesn’t get back until 9PM! So I approach as he is knocking on the door
“I believe those are mine,” I said with my biggest smile. He looks at me like I’m nuts.
“Yours?” he asks, clearly surprised that a woman was asking for slacks that he knew the guy who was staying in that room had dropped off.
“Uh huh, I called y’all about them earlier.”
Ding Ding Ding! At last I see “the” look that says he gets it.
“Oh . . . OH! Well here they are then! You have a good night now!”
Hmmm . . . I passed again, at least until I had to lead him by the nose to the point! You just never know . . .
Like I would have to tell any of you reading this, the bad news is that the life of a TG can have a number of head trips. For the most part I’ve come to terms with my head trips, but every once in a while one or two of them jump up and slap me in the face . . . hard.
Like today when I’ve got a two hour lay over in Atlanta and I decide to walk the length of the airport for the exercise rather than take the tram. As I’m walking I see the flight crew from Korean Air . For those of you that don’t fly much, I’ll fill you in on this. Korean Air must have very strict uniform rules because their flight attendants always look flawless. I’m not talking about just good, or cute, but absolutely flawless. There are four of these young women, each wearing this cute little white uniform, and each with her hair held up perfectly with a long hair pin. I kid you not, from the rear I could see that each woman’s hair pin was aligned at exactly the same angle as the next. – standing side by side they were perfectly parallel. With over 12 years active duty Army, you tend to notice these little details and appreciate the fact that it took some effort to achieve and maintain. I see I’m getting distracted from the point I wished to make. So looking at these perfect and petite young ladies, in their perfect uniforms, with their perfect hair, I was once again struck by the depression monster. All of my flaws just started screaming at me.
I’m male
I’m huge
I’m fat
I’m too tall
Even with half an inch of foundation I can’t cover the beard shadow
I’m a . . . man . . a man .. in a dress
I’m not . . . a . . .woman . . .
This is not a plea or a ploy for compliments where I’m trying to get everyone to argue with me and try and convince my I’m wrong, or I’m my own worse critic, or etc, etc. In fact that would make me intensely uncomfortable. What this is about, I suppose, is just to say that I’m human, and today I’m depressed.
Friday, April 25, 2008
New hair - what a waste!
Well, I finally got my new hair and took it to Jon Davis in Austin to get it cleaned and styled. this is my current and all time favorite hair:
I bought these on the internet and knew I was taking a serious chance that the colors would not be what they looked like online and I was right – they look NOTHING like the pics online.
The bad news? I don’t like the darker haired version of my current wig (The short one) and I HATE the long one!
I don’t know if it’s the color or what, but I think they both make my face look harsh and older. I MAY be willing to wear the shorter one if I have to – say because my favorite is being cleaned, but I think the long one is a total loss - $150 down the drain.
I did get to go out in Austin but did not enjoy myself. While waiting at Salon Muse to get my hair done, I got multiple calls from my wife telling me that there were Tornados in the area and a warning was in effect for our town (meaning one was spotted close by). That was an hour away, so no way I could get home in time to be with her IF something DID happen. She told me she was fine just stay in Austin so I did. Worrying about it put a pretty big damper on the evening though. One of the Tgirls I had hoped to meet could not make it after all. Rifka, of the TACT organization in Austin was going to come by too, but when the weather got bad she made the wise choice to stay at home. So, bad weather + wife scared + all by myself = Bored and not having fun. Went to the hotel, washed up, and drove home to be with the family.
I think I’m gonna go drown my sorrows – by shopping. See ya.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Second day in Huntsville Alabama
OK, so my second day in Huntsville Alabama was not as exciting as my tip there (Thank Goodness). I’m gonna guess that there are not a lot of crossdressers in the area ‘cause almost everyone I met seemed stunned. In fact, I think the only person I interacted with that didn’t seem shocked was the fella that signed me in to the hotel the night before. He showed no surprise at all. Every one else I interacted with in Huntsville acted stunned, like they had just put their finger in a light socket.Got the job done and am back to the hotel getting cleaned up by 1PM, and headed out shopping at about 230! I’ve had enough pushing the envelope for a while and so wore one of my favorite long skirts.
As I exited the hotel, one of the cleaning staff was sitting cross legged outside on the sidewalk smoking. She gave me a great big smile and said hello, so I returned the greeting. As usual, as soon as I started talking I saw “the look” indicating she had just realized I was male. I gave her a smile and told her “beautiful day out here huh? Now all you need is a beer and a guitar and you would have it made!” She laughed and agreed and I walked on to the car, and headed to the mall!
Had a pleasant day shopping – found a red top on sale in Dillards that I bought for about $10, and a couple of blouses for my wife.It sort of bummed me out though. Either I’m being overly sensitive or I am not passing at all. It seems that I was getting “the look” long before I got close to people or opened my mouth. I guess I have been wearing rose colored glasses ‘cause I look in the mirror and think I’m doing well and can pass, at least from a distance. The problem is I’ve got enough experience these days that I can recognize when people have made me. I’ll walk in next to a number of other people and the SA’s will offer to help them and utterly ignore me. Those that didn’t ignore me blushed and looked embarrassed as they asked if the could be of assistance. Oh well . . .
So, had a fair day of shopping, returned to the hotel and put my cute pink pumps on again, and then went to dinner at the Red Lobster. The place is PACKED and there are a lot of people waiting outside. There were three or four teenagers sitting on the bench outside the door and one of the girls looks at me and says “I LOVE your shoes! They are SO cute!”. I grinned and told her “Thank you! They ARE really cute aren’t they?” I swear I’m not exaggerating - as soon as I opened my mouth, the young ladies eyes visibly widened, and her mouth hung open, along with those of two or three of the other kids. They all stopped talking and watched me walk into the restaurant with eyes wide and open mouths. The hostess looked at me, got a huge grin on her face, and then asked me “how many?” Once again I had said nothing but had not passed. Shortly after the waitress took my order, I looked toward the kitchen . . . to see my waitress and two others staring at me with huge smiles on their faces. Took my time and enjoyed dinner, but my heart just wasn’t in it anymore. Went back to the hotel, washed up, and headed for “The Ultimate Karaoke Bar” in boy mode. I’m afraid the name didn’t match the reality. The place was so empty that while I was reviewing the song book the bartender came over and told me that management had told her to close up for the night. So I was in the hotel packing by 930PM and in bed by 1030.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Kimberly Racks up some frequent Flyer Miles / Shoe Shopping with the Wife
Got home from Indianapolis Saturday evening just in time to read my little critter a bed time story and snuggle with her for a few moments. It’s funny, I can be so exhausted and tired that I feel empty inside sometimes, but just a few moments hugging that little critter makes me start to feel human again.
Sunday was a mixed blessings day, but predominantly positive I think!
The down side – Gotta be on a plane first thing in the morning and so had to spend a good deal of time washing clothes to be prepared.
The good side – My wife and I went shoe shopping together to DSW Shoe Warehouse!
No, my wife has little to no interest in going anywhere with me dressed, so I was drab. A LONG time ago I got fed up with playing games when I go shopping so I pretty attack the place looking for shoes I liked! Not to be outdone, my wife headed off with admirable zeal herself! Cheeky woman! Imagine the nerve of her cutting into MY shoe budget! (ha ha ha) Found a pair of pink pumps I REALLY liked (shown in the pictures below), a pair of red pumps I really like but that didn't fit, and a pair of white shoes with 5 inch heels that I know I will never wear anywhere, but hey, they were cute and $90 shoes on sale for $17.
Get back to the house and find a couple of significant emails waiting for me.
One from an On-line Acquaintance living in the area of Huntsville AL. We had agreed to meet but he is on a tight schedule as he has to drive about six hours away tonight for his job.
The next email was from Delta telling me that they had approved my free upgrade to first class. It was at this point my brain started putting it all together:
- Meeting with friend in peril because he’s gotta head out for his trip and I will need about three hours to get my luggage and rental car, find the hotel, and then get dressed.
- The customer refused to see me Monday afternoon and insisted on Tuesday morning so my entire day was devoted to just getting to Alabama
- The airline had just upgraded me to first class where they treat you very nicely.
My heart started to pound as I said to myself “Self,” I said, “I think it’s time to let Kimberly take a flight!” The urge to try this has been killing me for a year or so and it just wasn’t gonna get any better than this! Early flight so I can be out of the house before my daughter wakes up, don’t have to see the customer that day, and I’ve got an upgrade to first class! My wife, in her usual show of confidence and support told me I was (and I quote) “Stark, raving, mad, and nucking futs”. Bolstered by her show of solidarity and support, I started making plans to deal with the worse case scenario. I packed a small carry on with one change of guy clothes, a wash cloth, and a bar of soap. I figure if they wont let me board the plane, I can run for the mens room, wash it all off, put on my boy clothes (YUCK) and THEN head out. Figure odds are real far against it coming to this, but still have that NCO trait where you always at least try to be prepared. I am so excited and nervous that I am literally going around in circles and getting nothing done. Lets see, what do I have to leave out for making up my face in the AM? Do I have the little baggie for carrying on lipstick and foundation? Did I pack the right stuff in my carry on? What time have I got to get up to get ready and get to the airport early enough that I can clean up and go male if I have to? What if they wont let me board?! What if this, what if that, what if . . . and right about there my brain just locked up.
SCREETCH!
So I take a break and read the critter a night time story “Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed” and taught her how to spell “and”, “on”, and “bed”. I got to bed around 10PM with my heart pounding I was so excited at the idea of flying. Finally get to sleep and woke up at 2:30AM – ten minutes before my alarm went off.
You know it’s a lot of fun dragging a 50Lb tool box, a 30 Lb large suitcase, purse, and a carry on bag while wearing a floaty skirt and heels . . . NOT! Head off on the 40 minute drive to the airport still scared to death that it’s going to go badly. I take back/Farm roads to get to the airport and am therefore a little surprised when my radar detector starts going off. I make sure I’m doing the speed limit WAY before the detector says I’m close to him. Finally see him parked off on a side road with all his lights off but I don’t worry about it as I am doing the speed limit. That is, I didn’t worry about it until he turned on his headlights and got on the road behind me. Funny, even knowing that I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m still nervous when he follows me for a few miles. At last he turns off and I continue to the airport. I usually park in the “Close In” parking lot cause the shuttle service sucks and the this lot is close enough to walk. I’m grinning like an idiot walking to the terminal in my cute pumps and flirty skirt – dragging 100 lbs of baggage.
Delta gave me no hassle what so ever, not a comment, not a look.Got to security where they compare your ID to your Ticket and the gentleman takes both, looks at them, looks at me, looks at them, looks at me, and then slowly starts to hand my license back to me. As I reach for it, he pulls it back away from me! It goes without saying that I’m nervous through all of this, so I react with humor.
“So, is this gonna be a problem?” I sort of laugh as I ask him. I say “sort of” laugh because I really am nervous as hell.
“Nope,” he says with a smile, “no problem at all!”, and this time hands the license and ticket both to me with a smile. Still not sure if he was screwing with me or not.
Get to the x-ray machine, pull my laptop out of the bag, pull my baggie with my makeup out, and then once again grin like an idiot as I take my cute pumps off and put them in the box too!
After walking through the metal detector (which thankfully did NOT go off) yet another TSA official takes my ticket. He looks at it and starts to hand it back to me while saying “Have a nice flight Matthew”, when HE pulls the damn thing back away from me like the other guy had done with my license. He grins from ear to ear, and quietly says “Matthew? Where is this Matthew?” Then quietly and with a very kind voice he says “You have a great flight Matthew” and then hands me my ticket back. You know, I might be nuts, but I think he was flirting with me.
My gate is number six but I stop at number five because its empty (hardly surprising at 5AM) and I get into my carry on for my bangles and bracelet. Just get them on and am trying to mate my camera to the tiny tripod I now carry with me so I can take some pics for my blog when I hear the intercom from gate 6.
“Matthew <INSERT LAST NAME HERE>, please report to the Delta ticket counter at gate 6!” Holy Smokes! Remember I got here REAL early just in case I had to clean up and go boy mode, so my flight isn’t scheduled to leave for more than two hours. What can they possibly be paging me for? I’m thinking this can’t be good, they must be about to tell me they can’t allow me on the plane or something. Toss my stuff back in my bag and go to the ticket counter, trying not to be too obvious as I look to see if there is anyone I know in the gate area that would have seen the crossdresser answer a page for “Matthew XXXX” Don’t see anyone I know so all's good. I am informed that since I am there so early, they can get me on the earlier flight and get me into Alabama by 930AM instead of 1PM!
“Sure! I’ll take it!”, he prints me out a ticket for Austin and a “Seat Request” for Atlanta. Oh Goody, this means I get to go to the ticket counter in Atlanta and have a little face to face time with yet someone else! You might recall that I’ve always been honest about passing – I think I pass well enough from two or three feet away, but as soon as I have to speak to someone it’s one clue too many, so I am not fond of the idea.
Soon it comes time to board and it is at this point that I notice that I am literally in the first seat of the airplane. Everyone boarding is gonna walk right past yours truly.
“That’s all right,” I think to myself, “I can deal with it” . . . and I did.
The flight attendants were just darlings. Two ladies I’d guestimate in their early 50’s, and they both went out of their way to chat with me. One of them told me she loved my skirt and I laughed and told her she better BACK away from it, ‘cause it’s one of my all time favorites! She laughed and continued to chat with me for some time.
At last the plane is loaded, the door is closed, and Kimberly is about to earn her first frequent flyer mile . . . except it didn’t happen that way. The pilot comes over the intercom and tells us there is some sort of engine problem, they can’t tell if it is the engine or a sensor, and will have to ask us to de-plane! While I’m grabbing my carry on out of the over head, the clearly “no nonsense” “Senior Director” type guy sitting across from me is just giving me the bored stare that you give something that is clearly beneath you, like a slug or a worm you just found on your shoe.
“Hmmpph,” I thought to myself, “I don’t like YOU either. Besides, the cute flight attendants thought I was worth talking to and they ignored you, so there!”
Get back off the plane and return to the gate area where I start to consider what I’m going to look like if this goes south and I’m stuck in airports for 16 hours. Fortunately it didn’t come to that, and we had a new plane and were boarded in about an hour. Once again as I boarded the plane the attendant went out of her way to BS with me, and once again the guy across from me stared down his nose while I put my carry on back up in the over head. By this time I was over the worst of my nerves and started to imagine just how high he would jump of I faked a lunge at him while shouting “BOO” as loudly as possible. Figured that would probably get my happy a$$ chucked off the plane so I just smiled and took my seat.
Landed it Atlanta at 10AM, which was just really amusing since my next flight had left at 940AM – 20 minutes ago. Got rebooked on a later flight and had two hours to kill so I took a seat and painted my nails. You might recall the night before was pretty hectic for me what with the shoe shopping, doing the household laundry, putting critter to bed, packing, and running around in circles, so I had not had the chance to do them the night before.
Arrive in Alabama, get rental car, and check in at the hotel with no more excitement. (Thank Goodness!) Got some real amusing looks from some of the cleaning staff but nothing is said. Took the camera out to the parking lot to get some outside pics. While I was setting the timer to take a pic, I saw a movement and looked up at the hotel to see three of the hotel staff peeking out the window watching me. I smiled and waved – no one waved back, they just left the window.
Got a call from the desk clerk at the lobby – it’s the guy I was gonna meet.
The clerk say “There’s a customer here that would like to talk to you?” and he puts the question on the end of it.
“A customer? You mean I’ve offended or pissed someone off already?” I said.
“No no no, I didn’t mean customer, I mean you have a guest!”
“Phew! That’s good then, please put him on!”
He’s got one of those jobs where it really would be remarkably bad if they had any idea he might crossdress, or if he was seen with a crossdresser, so I invited him to the room instead of meeting him in the lobby. I can’t say much about him because I am not sure what he would be comfortable with my sharing, so best not to share much. Suffice it to say, we talked about an hour and I liked him. He was a very nice, polite, and chivalrous gentleman who even opened the doors for me!
When it came time for him to leave, I was starving and was gonna go get something to eat, so we walked out together. As I opened the door I see one of the staff about three feet away and I’d swear he’s blushing. It’s then that I figure out what this might look like to someone. Let’s see:
- Tgirl checks into hotel.
- Shortly after, gentleman visits
- An hour after arriving gentleman leaves
“Ah shit!”, I’m thinking to myself, “I bet I just shot my good girl reputation all to hell!”
Sunday was a mixed blessings day, but predominantly positive I think!
The down side – Gotta be on a plane first thing in the morning and so had to spend a good deal of time washing clothes to be prepared.
The good side – My wife and I went shoe shopping together to DSW Shoe Warehouse!
No, my wife has little to no interest in going anywhere with me dressed, so I was drab. A LONG time ago I got fed up with playing games when I go shopping so I pretty attack the place looking for shoes I liked! Not to be outdone, my wife headed off with admirable zeal herself! Cheeky woman! Imagine the nerve of her cutting into MY shoe budget! (ha ha ha) Found a pair of pink pumps I REALLY liked (shown in the pictures below), a pair of red pumps I really like but that didn't fit, and a pair of white shoes with 5 inch heels that I know I will never wear anywhere, but hey, they were cute and $90 shoes on sale for $17.
Get back to the house and find a couple of significant emails waiting for me.
One from an On-line Acquaintance living in the area of Huntsville AL. We had agreed to meet but he is on a tight schedule as he has to drive about six hours away tonight for his job.
The next email was from Delta telling me that they had approved my free upgrade to first class. It was at this point my brain started putting it all together:
- Meeting with friend in peril because he’s gotta head out for his trip and I will need about three hours to get my luggage and rental car, find the hotel, and then get dressed.
- The customer refused to see me Monday afternoon and insisted on Tuesday morning so my entire day was devoted to just getting to Alabama
- The airline had just upgraded me to first class where they treat you very nicely.
My heart started to pound as I said to myself “Self,” I said, “I think it’s time to let Kimberly take a flight!” The urge to try this has been killing me for a year or so and it just wasn’t gonna get any better than this! Early flight so I can be out of the house before my daughter wakes up, don’t have to see the customer that day, and I’ve got an upgrade to first class! My wife, in her usual show of confidence and support told me I was (and I quote) “Stark, raving, mad, and nucking futs”. Bolstered by her show of solidarity and support, I started making plans to deal with the worse case scenario. I packed a small carry on with one change of guy clothes, a wash cloth, and a bar of soap. I figure if they wont let me board the plane, I can run for the mens room, wash it all off, put on my boy clothes (YUCK) and THEN head out. Figure odds are real far against it coming to this, but still have that NCO trait where you always at least try to be prepared. I am so excited and nervous that I am literally going around in circles and getting nothing done. Lets see, what do I have to leave out for making up my face in the AM? Do I have the little baggie for carrying on lipstick and foundation? Did I pack the right stuff in my carry on? What time have I got to get up to get ready and get to the airport early enough that I can clean up and go male if I have to? What if they wont let me board?! What if this, what if that, what if . . . and right about there my brain just locked up.
SCREETCH!
So I take a break and read the critter a night time story “Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed” and taught her how to spell “and”, “on”, and “bed”. I got to bed around 10PM with my heart pounding I was so excited at the idea of flying. Finally get to sleep and woke up at 2:30AM – ten minutes before my alarm went off.
You know it’s a lot of fun dragging a 50Lb tool box, a 30 Lb large suitcase, purse, and a carry on bag while wearing a floaty skirt and heels . . . NOT! Head off on the 40 minute drive to the airport still scared to death that it’s going to go badly. I take back/Farm roads to get to the airport and am therefore a little surprised when my radar detector starts going off. I make sure I’m doing the speed limit WAY before the detector says I’m close to him. Finally see him parked off on a side road with all his lights off but I don’t worry about it as I am doing the speed limit. That is, I didn’t worry about it until he turned on his headlights and got on the road behind me. Funny, even knowing that I’ve done nothing wrong, I’m still nervous when he follows me for a few miles. At last he turns off and I continue to the airport. I usually park in the “Close In” parking lot cause the shuttle service sucks and the this lot is close enough to walk. I’m grinning like an idiot walking to the terminal in my cute pumps and flirty skirt – dragging 100 lbs of baggage.
Delta gave me no hassle what so ever, not a comment, not a look.Got to security where they compare your ID to your Ticket and the gentleman takes both, looks at them, looks at me, looks at them, looks at me, and then slowly starts to hand my license back to me. As I reach for it, he pulls it back away from me! It goes without saying that I’m nervous through all of this, so I react with humor.
“So, is this gonna be a problem?” I sort of laugh as I ask him. I say “sort of” laugh because I really am nervous as hell.
“Nope,” he says with a smile, “no problem at all!”, and this time hands the license and ticket both to me with a smile. Still not sure if he was screwing with me or not.
Get to the x-ray machine, pull my laptop out of the bag, pull my baggie with my makeup out, and then once again grin like an idiot as I take my cute pumps off and put them in the box too!
After walking through the metal detector (which thankfully did NOT go off) yet another TSA official takes my ticket. He looks at it and starts to hand it back to me while saying “Have a nice flight Matthew”, when HE pulls the damn thing back away from me like the other guy had done with my license. He grins from ear to ear, and quietly says “Matthew? Where is this Matthew?” Then quietly and with a very kind voice he says “You have a great flight Matthew” and then hands me my ticket back. You know, I might be nuts, but I think he was flirting with me.
My gate is number six but I stop at number five because its empty (hardly surprising at 5AM) and I get into my carry on for my bangles and bracelet. Just get them on and am trying to mate my camera to the tiny tripod I now carry with me so I can take some pics for my blog when I hear the intercom from gate 6.
“Matthew <INSERT LAST NAME HERE>, please report to the Delta ticket counter at gate 6!” Holy Smokes! Remember I got here REAL early just in case I had to clean up and go boy mode, so my flight isn’t scheduled to leave for more than two hours. What can they possibly be paging me for? I’m thinking this can’t be good, they must be about to tell me they can’t allow me on the plane or something. Toss my stuff back in my bag and go to the ticket counter, trying not to be too obvious as I look to see if there is anyone I know in the gate area that would have seen the crossdresser answer a page for “Matthew XXXX” Don’t see anyone I know so all's good. I am informed that since I am there so early, they can get me on the earlier flight and get me into Alabama by 930AM instead of 1PM!
“Sure! I’ll take it!”, he prints me out a ticket for Austin and a “Seat Request” for Atlanta. Oh Goody, this means I get to go to the ticket counter in Atlanta and have a little face to face time with yet someone else! You might recall that I’ve always been honest about passing – I think I pass well enough from two or three feet away, but as soon as I have to speak to someone it’s one clue too many, so I am not fond of the idea.
Soon it comes time to board and it is at this point that I notice that I am literally in the first seat of the airplane. Everyone boarding is gonna walk right past yours truly.
“That’s all right,” I think to myself, “I can deal with it” . . . and I did.
The flight attendants were just darlings. Two ladies I’d guestimate in their early 50’s, and they both went out of their way to chat with me. One of them told me she loved my skirt and I laughed and told her she better BACK away from it, ‘cause it’s one of my all time favorites! She laughed and continued to chat with me for some time.
At last the plane is loaded, the door is closed, and Kimberly is about to earn her first frequent flyer mile . . . except it didn’t happen that way. The pilot comes over the intercom and tells us there is some sort of engine problem, they can’t tell if it is the engine or a sensor, and will have to ask us to de-plane! While I’m grabbing my carry on out of the over head, the clearly “no nonsense” “Senior Director” type guy sitting across from me is just giving me the bored stare that you give something that is clearly beneath you, like a slug or a worm you just found on your shoe.
“Hmmpph,” I thought to myself, “I don’t like YOU either. Besides, the cute flight attendants thought I was worth talking to and they ignored you, so there!”
Get back off the plane and return to the gate area where I start to consider what I’m going to look like if this goes south and I’m stuck in airports for 16 hours. Fortunately it didn’t come to that, and we had a new plane and were boarded in about an hour. Once again as I boarded the plane the attendant went out of her way to BS with me, and once again the guy across from me stared down his nose while I put my carry on back up in the over head. By this time I was over the worst of my nerves and started to imagine just how high he would jump of I faked a lunge at him while shouting “BOO” as loudly as possible. Figured that would probably get my happy a$$ chucked off the plane so I just smiled and took my seat.
Landed it Atlanta at 10AM, which was just really amusing since my next flight had left at 940AM – 20 minutes ago. Got rebooked on a later flight and had two hours to kill so I took a seat and painted my nails. You might recall the night before was pretty hectic for me what with the shoe shopping, doing the household laundry, putting critter to bed, packing, and running around in circles, so I had not had the chance to do them the night before.
Arrive in Alabama, get rental car, and check in at the hotel with no more excitement. (Thank Goodness!) Got some real amusing looks from some of the cleaning staff but nothing is said. Took the camera out to the parking lot to get some outside pics. While I was setting the timer to take a pic, I saw a movement and looked up at the hotel to see three of the hotel staff peeking out the window watching me. I smiled and waved – no one waved back, they just left the window.Got a call from the desk clerk at the lobby – it’s the guy I was gonna meet.
The clerk say “There’s a customer here that would like to talk to you?” and he puts the question on the end of it.
“A customer? You mean I’ve offended or pissed someone off already?” I said.
“No no no, I didn’t mean customer, I mean you have a guest!”
“Phew! That’s good then, please put him on!”
He’s got one of those jobs where it really would be remarkably bad if they had any idea he might crossdress, or if he was seen with a crossdresser, so I invited him to the room instead of meeting him in the lobby. I can’t say much about him because I am not sure what he would be comfortable with my sharing, so best not to share much. Suffice it to say, we talked about an hour and I liked him. He was a very nice, polite, and chivalrous gentleman who even opened the doors for me!
When it came time for him to leave, I was starving and was gonna go get something to eat, so we walked out together. As I opened the door I see one of the staff about three feet away and I’d swear he’s blushing. It’s then that I figure out what this might look like to someone. Let’s see:
- Tgirl checks into hotel.
- Shortly after, gentleman visits
- An hour after arriving gentleman leaves
“Ah shit!”, I’m thinking to myself, “I bet I just shot my good girl reputation all to hell!”
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