Wednesday, June 27, 2012

For Pat, in clarification

Pat sent me a comment on my last entry that I thought deserved a full reply- not just for Pat, but so all are clear on what my thoughts are on the topic.

This one is political, folks.  If you don't want to read it, stop here.  Fair warning.  :)

My use of Shakespeare was a bit tongue in cheek, but only a bit.  For one, I love Shakespeare.  For two, I felt it appropriate to the message.  (I also like showing off my "Liberal Indoctrination Center" [as Santorum defines a "University"] education)  ;)

Let's define Person, and I'll even use right wing terminology to emphasize the hypocrisy.

A Person is defined as LIFE. LIFE begins, according to the GOP, 2 weeks before you have sex (Arizona law). Life means a beating heart. Brainwaves. Respiration optional. In other words- biological life.

 Please explain where, in a corporation, is the aorta? Ventricles? Medulla oblongatta? (Them thar big words are liberal intellectual terms for parts of the heart and brain, btw).   ;)

Answer: in a corporation, they don't exist. A corporation is an entity on paper as defined by Lawyers.


If corporations are people, so are Trusts, wills, anything notarized, parking tickets... you get the idea. So by tearing up a parking ticket, you commit murder.

 Ridiculous, right?

 Oh wait, BANKS are corporations. AUTO companies are corporations. Romney and the teaparty said "Let them die." So they're advocating murder by that definition, right?

And those corporations Bain Captial cut apart and sold off?  Organ harvesting!  Mass murder!

Of course, not all corporations are evil.  But the ones buying the GOP are.

How bad have we gotten?  Here in Pennsylvania, the GOP ADMITTED to putting in the Voter ID law specifically to elect Romney. 

It's like the Supervillian telling the Hero his nefarious plan, thinking that there's no way he could ever be stopped.  In fact, it's exactly like that.

Pat, I don't hate corporations.  I hate CORRUPTION.  I have a passion for justice.  And the chances of the 99% getting ANY justice are ZERO under Romney or any other of the paid-for GOP.

So.  There's my mind in full, as the Bard wrote. 

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Random Thoughts... Oh look a shiny object!

Ok, this is going to be a bit free-flowing.  Several topics with no real cohesion.

First:  Last weekend, my wife made things up to me.

Those who read this little exercise in mental gymnastics (to which right wingers give a score of “2”) will recall that my wife was really nasty to me on Father’s Day. And that I gave her hell about it. And she apologized.

Last Sunday, she decided she would make Father’s Day. She made me breakfast. We went out as a family and then to lunch. It was a wonderful day. Then I went to work, where it was the usual collection of abusive, entitled people. But- my wife made an effort to give me a good day, and I am grateful.

So, what’s next on my Sophie schedule? I’m not sure. There’s a big party at the Raven in New Hope in a few weeks. If I’m not working I’ll go. These well attended parties are put on by a wonderful woman named Jen Bryant and are always so much fun! I really hope I can go.

On a different note:  The Supreme Court ruled on the Arizona immigration law.  Important, yes.  More important was another ruling the same day.  The Conservatives in the court ruled that a state cannot stop corporations from buying elections within its borders. 

Let's put this into perspective:  on the same day the right wing is screaming about the federal government overturning "state's rights" on the Arizona ruling, they celebrate the EXACT SAME THING happening in Montana.  Why, you ask?  Simple- the corporations have the GOP bought and paid for.  I've long suspected that the GOP had the court in its pocket.  This ruling proves it.  It also proves that a private citizen no longer has a voice in US politics.  Remember: Corporations are People.  And people are corporate assets, to be used and thrown away at will. 

As I wrote on Facebook:

"Ahh, Shakespeare as he would write today. Merchant of Venice, Act 3, Scene 1


not a CORPORATION eyes? hath not a CORPORATION hands, organs,

dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with

the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject

to the same diseases, healed by the same means,

warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as

a Person is? If you prick us..., do we not bleed?

if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison

us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not

revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will

resemble you in that. If a CORPORATION wrong a Person,

what is his humility? Revenge. If a Person

wrong a CORPORATION, what should his sufferance be by

Person example? Why, revenge. The villany you

teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I

will better the instruction."
Ok.  I've said that. 

I'm buying tickets for LGBT night at the Phillies for myself and three friends.  So I'll be going to a Philadelphia sports event as Sophie.  We Philly sports fans have a reputation as being, well, nasty.  A Wretched Hive of Scum and Villainy.  And I'm not saying we don't deserve it.  I've been in the stands watching the fights, hearing the boos, etc.  So why am I crazy enough to show up in a skirt?  (BTW-that Santa Claus thing?  Happened in 1968.  Give it a rest already!)

Probably this skirt to be precise

Well, for one, if I intend to live as a woman, I can't be intimidated by this sort of thing.  If I were, I'd never leave the house.  Am I scared?  Definitely.  Which brings me to point two:  I'll be there with Thousands of LGBT people.  So if there were ever a day to try this feat, this game is it.  And when I do this, I'll know that I've accomplished something big. 

Not as big as walking out the door that first time, but close.  They're all steps toward The Goal.

Am I Woman enough to go through with it?

We'll see.

One last bit of news: I received a prescription to get skull x-rays for FFS.  Using these, the Doctor will be able to see how much work needs to be done and give me a solid estimate.  I wonder if he can just give me a whole new head- it may be easier!  ;)

Needs Work

You know- I do see a little cohesion to this particular blog.  A theme, if you will.  It wasn't intentional, really, but it's there. 


My wife showed a lot of courage apologizing as she did.  Jen Bryant shows a LOT of courage every time she goes out, but especially when she works so hard to host events like she does.  (Angela has that same courage.)  We here in America will require a LOT of courage to overcome the coming coup de tat engineered by the GOP and their corporate masters.  Going to Philly sports event en femme?  I hope I have the courage.

Courage will carry the day.  I have to keep believing that.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Sophie's Father's Day

This was an odd weekend to be sure.

Best of times, worst of times and all that.

It was Father’s Day. Seem weird that a Transwoman would be writing about that? Shouldn’t be- many of us had kids before we came to our senses.

And acknowledged our true self that is.

Let’s start with the… No, I’ll go chronologically.

The last week was really rough at work. It’s the second busiest time of the year behind Christmas, and of course there was always at least one person calling off sick. It was fairly nasty, but I knew what was waiting at the end: Saturday night out as Sophie!

I worked until 3 on Saturday (after waking up at 5:30 am) then went to the motel. A quick touch up shave and then off to True Colors for a session with Amanda. Soon enough, I was ready and out the door!

I decided to go casual again. I want to try to blend in as much as possible lately. That doesn’t mean I won’t get really dressed up again, but just not that night.

The usual dinner wasn’t happening, so I met a couple friends at Shangri-La (where Angela’s Laptop Lounge used to be held.) We had a nice dinner, then I headed over to Renaissance for the monthly meeting. However, not enough people showed up so the speaker, Dr. Angelo postponed her talk.

At Shangrila

I stayed around a little bit, then went to Laptop. I met some new people, but mostly the same ones. One genetic girl was there with her friend talking about how she was going to dump her boyfriend as he didn’t seem really into her. I pointed out that dumping him would probably make him want her more. She asked if I was available.

“Well, I’ve got a peculiar… habit,” I said.

“Really? What?” she said, smiling.

“I snore.”

She laughed, then her guy came in. I smiled at him, and went to the other end of the bar. They left together very soon after. Right about that time, my “big sis” Mel arrived. While I had dressed down, she had dressed up. She looked very nice.

I had another great time, laughing and talking. It’s wonderful being able to be myself, and not having to lie about it.

The night ended too soon as always.

I got to bed at 4 AM.

My four year old daughter woke me up at 7 AM to give me a card. She signed it and drew a heart. That was the highlight of the day. It went straight to hell after that.

I had to get up to watch my daughter as everyone else went to church. So I had to stay up. With a hangover. I make myself breakfast. When they returned, I took a shower. I felt scummy.

OK. Now I’m up. It’s Father’s Day. First I’m asked to move some furniture around as well as a stack of 50 pound weights. Really. Finished that. I settled in to relax with aspirin and water to watch the Phillies game.

Now on a normal day after Laptop, I know what’s coming. Wife punishes me for having the audacity to go out with friends to do whatever. But hell, it’s MY holiday, right?

Then Wife comes in and lets me have it.

“Why are you sitting around? There’s a lot of work to do around here and you’re just lazing around watching baseball!”

“So you’re lecturing me about this on Father’s Day?”

“I don’t care what day it is!” And she proceeded to complain that she does so much work. I point out my 60 hour work week which she says “doesn’t matter.” In fact, she says I don’t work that much (due to lunches and such.)

Needless to say, I’m a bit angry, but my daughter was around so I swallowed it. Ok, a LOT angry.

I suggest that we, as a family go to lunch before going to work. Perhaps to the KOP mall, where everyone can get something they want. I stress WE, as in family, y’know for Father’s Day.

I’m told that there’s SO much to do around the house that she “can’t justify” going out.

Can’t justify going out. For the father of her child. For a lunch on Father’s Day.
Right. So I’m not angry at this point. I’m beyond that. I got ready for work- yes I worked on Father’s Day, as I do on every Sunday. Just another Day. I left early and went to lunch alone.

And then I worked. And every spawn of hell was there to make my life miserable. Really- the people out that night were put on this Earth to add to the misery of others- specifically those they believe “beneath them.” Which meant me.

After work, I went home.

And my dog and daughter both greeted me at the door.

Ten minutes later, daughter was in bed.

I made myself some dinner. Wife came out with a look on her face that said “Prepare for more hell.”
At this point, I’d had it. My cup runneth over.

I told her that I never wanted to hear about Father’s Day again. It was not going to be celebrated nor even mentioned as long as I lived. That as she treated it as any other day, so it shall be. I told her that she would never treat her father (dead now ten years this week) with such disrespect, yet she treats me this way, so fine- it’s done. I never EVER want to hear about it again. Try to give me a gift and it will be returned and the money presented to her as that’s all that matters to her anyway. And don’t even try to apologize.

(Imagine this said in a very nasty but quiet tone with many f-bombs interspersed.)

And she started to cry. Something I am quite immune to when I’m angry.

She cried and apologized and said she missed her dad and other things which I flat out couldn’t understand.

“Be compassionate Sophie” you say? Ummm… when I’m pissed off, my compassion has ended. No longer exists.

I let her cry, then I went to bed, as I had to be up at 5 AM the next morning for my two jobs which don’t matter.

So the next morning I went to work in a foul mood. Fortunately, I was working a shift covering someone off the floor, so my customer interaction was minimal. Good thing.

Went to job 2. Message on my phone from her. It wasn’t clear but she was apologizing and asking for a chance to make it up to me.

After work I went home. She wanted to go to dinner the next day (Tuesday) to make up for “being a bitch.”

And so Tuesday night we went out. We went to Iron Hill brewery in Phoenixville, PA. And we had a great time.

And she asked me about Saturday night, and I told her a little. Enough though.

So today, I went to my therapy appointment. I brought a draft of this piece 9which obviously didn’t include this bit.) Dr. Osborne was of the opinion that I could’ve handled things better.

She’s right.

When I get angry, I let the anger take control. I seek “justice.” I want satisfaction- to know that those who made me mad pay the price for doing so. Is this healthy? Nope.

So how did this resolve? Wife apologized multiple times. And in the end I forgave her. What else could I do? It’s not like this was a critical thing- it was only about respect.

But that’s important enough.

So from here we go on. What’s next? Well if I have off work there’s a big thing at the Raven in New Hope in a few weeks. If not, my next time out will be in late July. Oh, and I’m hoping to go to LGBT night at the Phillies on August 26th.

Until then, I’ll have to keep it all inside.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Hate is but a Dream?

The other night I had a semi-recurring dream. I say semi because it’s the theme, not the exact events that are the key here.

I have an older brother. We didn’t get along at all. He used to blame everything on me, especially the stuff I didn’t do. And he’d get away with murder. We would fight a LOT. And I would always be the one punished.

Yes, I’m still bitter.

So: the dream. I was back in the house where I grew up. In the bathroom. My brother, I’ll call him “Jerk,” breaks the door in as I have it locked (having just showered.) He barges in, looking like he did in his late teens with a greasy mullet.

After breaking in, he said “You’re going to have to replace the door after I tell dad you broke it.”

I said “It was locked for a reason, asshole!”

“So? I wanted to come in. And what I want goes.”

Then he smiled his “I know I can get away with anything” smile as he began with the usual insults. “Faggot.” “Wuss.” You get the idea.

And here’s the part where it’s a repeater- I hit him as hard as I can, and he just smiles and laughs. And I hit him again and again while he just smiles, completely unaffected by anything I do. In previous dreams I have hit him with a baseball bat, run him over with a car, you name it- I’ve done it. Never even scratched him. NOTHING wipes the smile off his face. Sometimes he laughs. Sometimes he fights back. But I can never hurt him. Never stop the insults or the pain. He always wins.

So that’s the theme- helplessness. Frustration.

Helplessness and frustration seem to be themes in the lives of many TGs. But there’s more to it than just that. See there’s one mega thing he ALWAYS held over me.

He caught me dressed once.

When I first started dressing, I was in my early teens and very slight. Having no sisters, I wore my mom’s stuff- dresses, skirts, blouses. She had a red wig as well (she had auburn hair). And eventually I started experimenting with her makeup.

I would usually only do this when EVERYONE was away, like down at the beach. I stayed home as I had to work. But one time I got brave. Parents were away for the weekend, but Jerk stayed home. He was staying at a friend’s place- or so I was told.

So I got totally dressed, used water balloons for breasts in the bra. Even did my makeup. Badly, but I did it. I was looking in my parent’s full length mirror. I was wearing a pink blouse, a burgundy skirt, and pumps. I think they were black. Pantyhose that were tan. I never said I knew how to dress then! Anyway, so there I am, fully dressed as a girl, when I hear the downstairs door unlock and open. Oh Shit! There was no way I could get even the blouse off in time. Maybe whoever would stay downstairs long enough…

I stepped out of the shoes and ran to the bathroom… the only bathroom. Locked the door. Pulled off the wig and frantically started unbuttoning, unzipping…

And I heard Jerk running up the stairs… and he started pounding on the bathroom door.

“Hey I gotta use the bathroom, get the f*ck out!” he shouted.

“I just got in!”

And he kept banging on the door. I tossed the girl clothes into the hamper where I hoped he wouldn’t look. But there was the matter of all that makeup I was wearing. Mascara, foundation, lipstick, eye shadow. Hmmm. The hallway is always dark during the day. Maybe if I…

Then he kicked the door in, and he saw me. And he started laughing.

Here my memory blurs. Hey, it was thirty years ago! I remember how it ended though. I had to bribe him with my next two paychecks. All of it. That was over $300 total. In 1982, that was a bit of money for a high school kid! Especially since I was trying to save for college. (Inflation adjusted, that’s $668. More than I make in two weeks now.) And he held it over me big time.

Forever it seemed.

By the time I finished college, he seemed to have forgotten. I doubt that he did though.

Now he and I just don’t talk. He’s married now and has a daughter. I think she’s thirteen. She met my daughter when mine was an infant and not since. So that’s over four years since I last saw her. His wife is a highly educated woman and could’ve done far better than him. She has self image issues due to being heavy, but still. I’m cordial with her on the rare times when we encounter each other. I’m sure she has a low opinion of me. Then again, my wife has a low opinion of my brother, so…

Right, so we don’t talk. He’s in the past. So why do I still get these dreams? Why am I still bitter?

I have no idea.

What would he say if I told him about being Sophie?

Think He'd Understand?

Well, I really don’t know. I think he’d start in with the insults and tell my parents. And then back to not speaking as always.

But, as has been seen, I could be wrong. For all I know, he’d be really supportive. Doubt it though. It’s never been in his nature.  Or maybe he'd prefer having a Sister.

I think I’ll hold off on telling him. Like forever.

You know, for as long as I’ll be bitter.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Just to make you feel old...

I originally posted this at my old blog back in 2008.  So I've updated it, given it a light edit, and here it is for this crowd, who has never seen it.  :)

So I'm driving home tonight from work tonight and on 95.7 (They're the local branch of the "we'll play anything" empire) comes Abba "Dancing Queen." 

Anyway it occured to me that the 17 year old having the time of her life, assuming she was 17 upon release of the single (August 1976), will be 52 this year.
Is she still having the time of her life?

The 10 pound baby boy that Patty gave birth to in Rod Stewart's "Young Turks" assuming born the same year of the single-1982- would be 30.

The girl that was "just 17" when Paul McCartney "Saw her Standing there" in 1963 would be 66. "You know what I mean?"

Ringo's chick from "You're Sixteen" (1973) would be 55, unless you count the original version recorded in 1960, where she's now 68. "Would you still feed me would you still need me?"

Ok, this one takes some thought. Sgt Pepper taught the band to play in 1947 (in 1967, Paul states that it was 20 years ago). Let's figure the Sgt. was 25 ( a generous guess) when he did that. That means he's now 90. Probably older. Assuming he's still alive, that is.

The chick that Winger sang about in "Seventeen"? (1988)  42 now.

Anyway, I'm sure there are many more, but those are the ones that come to mind quickly. I'm going to go get my Vodka and Geritol, sit on my rocking chair, and watch reruns of Alf.

Ok, maybe not Alf.

Monday, June 4, 2012

This Past Weekend

This past weekend, I went to visit my parents in Southern Delaware.  Loaded up my wife and daughter and headed south.

My parents and I never got along.  At all.  I am the youngest and if anything went wrong in the house, it was immediately my fault, evidence to the contrary be damned.  Add to that my dad's violent temper and his tendency to beat up his kids and, well, you get the idea. My mom would just watch as I was smashed around.

Oh, then there's that whole "I knew I was different" thing.

So why do I even keep in touch?  Pretty much for my daughter- so she knows her grandparents.  Dad has mellowed a lot with time.  Cancer will do that to a person.  It also rendered him fairly harmless, so I'm not worried about him raising a hand to my daughter.  Believe me, if that were a remote possibility he would never ever see her.

So what does this have to do with my Sophie life?

A few things actually.  The first is that I reaffirmed that I could never ever tell them about my true self.  they would disown me in a second.  How am I so sure?  While I was there, I jumped on my drab facebook page.  I have a couple trans-people as friends on that account.  My dad saw a post from one of them and went on for a whole minute about "freaks of nature" and "faggots" and so on.  I countered with the fact that this isn't something they choose, and that the person in question is my friend and I won't stand for her being insulted.  He grumbled something and shuffled away.

I think I'm on firm ground with my assumption of their non-acceptance.

Second: wife and I were at a playground at Bethany Beach with our daughter.  I don't tan- I burn, so at this time of year I'm quite chalklike- especially my legs. Wife said I am "white as a ghost" and "next time you go out for that weekend thing, you should wear pantyhose as you're just too pasty."

Yes, she said that. 

I was stunned!

She then said maybe I should spray tan or something.  Do I look like a Snooki? 

Me and my translucent legs

Third: after Bethany, we went to Rehoboth Beach.  Long time victims of this blog will recall that last October, I went to a conference in Rehoboth and walked about the town as a woman.  (Read about that here.)  This was my first time back there since then.  And wow it was weird.  The last time there, I was Me- Sophie- out and about.  This time, I was in drab, with my wife and child.  We went to Playland where my daughter rode the little kid rides.  Same ones I rode when I was her age.  Yes, they're that old.

On the Boardwalk last November

I wanted to get a woman's t-shirt while there this time, but I couldn't find one in my size.  Sigh.

We came home Sunday morning.  As her mother is away for a few days (we live with her), I asked Wife if I could invite someone to dinner, which I would make.  She knew who I was going to invite- My "Big Sister" Mel.  Wife (should I give her a nom de plume?) said that was fine.

So I invited Mel over.  I grilled steaks, made a salad, and heated up some potatoes (Omaha Steaks potatoes!  yum!).  Mel brought two bottles of wine.

I was REALLY nervous.  My wife hadn't knowingly met any of my friends from my female life.  And what would Mel think?  So, being me, I had a few drinks to clam myself a bit.

Dinner went well.  The steaks came out perfect *pats self on back*, and the wine was great.  Mel worked on Wall Street and my wife works in the financial biz, so they found a lot of common ground.  They seemed to get along quite well.  Our daughter behaved herself as well.

Eventually, I set up a movie for my daughter to watch back in the living room- far from where we sat.  And Mel asked wife point blank "So do you have any...questions?"

Wife at first said no, but then opened up.  She asked about why Mel transitioned, and what if she didn't.  Mel was very straightforward with her answers.  She also pointed out that not everyone walks the same path, and few really end up getting surgery. 

They continued on the topic for a bit.  I pretty much tried to stay out of it.  Smart move, as by then I was fairly drunk.  I listened, and answered when asked a question. 

My wife maintained a pleasant tone throughout.

Eventually the night ended.  Mel left and I helped clean up a bit, and started drinking LOTS of water.  Wife didn't pursue the topic after Mel left.  I'm guessing because she knew that in the shape I was in, I wasn't going to be really... well... coherent.

Drunk Sophie

Woke up this morning with a hangover.  Go figure.

I haven't spoken to wife much yet today due to work.  But tonight I'm sure the Topic will come up. 

And I Welcome it.

I still can't believe where We are with this.  It may come crashing down at any time, but for now, I am Lucky.  Maybe I'll be lucky enough to...

Nope, let's not get ahead of myself. 

Just enjoy what I have... for Now.