Men of the Skull Prologue 2025 draft.

 

Prologue (2025): “Let me tell you a story…”

Wednesday, July 2, 2025:  Trump administration restores $175 million to Penn after deal reached on trans athletes

 

Right.  This is the revised, updated, all-new, now with Pine-scent! prologue of a revised book you never read in the first place. 

 

Everything in this book happened. Or most of it did. The memories are real, even if the edges blur a bit with time. The names have been changed—some out of respect, some out of mercy, and some to protect the guilty. I haven’t exaggerated. If anything, I’ve softened some of it. It all depends “on a certain point of view.”

 

Last week

This is the story of my college years—two universities, two fraternities, two lives. One of them was real. The other was the one I tried desperately to live, with mixed results and bad hair.

 

In the original prologue, reproduced next, I wrote:

“Anyway, why in the world would I write about my college years? Who gives a damn? Is it a therapeutic assignment? Is it an attempt to exorcise old demons and ghosts and move on with my life? Is it an attempt to recapture the 1980s of my quickly ebbing youth?
Maybe a little of them all, I guess. I’m doing this because I think it’s a story worth telling- if only so I can get it all straight in my head. I want to learn from it."

        Well, that was Truth as I understood it in 2008.  I was in Pain- a deep, howling psychological pain- and I didn’t know why.  I tried to drink it to death.  Didn’t work.  So I’d write it to death.  I finished the first draft in summer 2008.  I sent it to editors, agents, and publishers and received some polite rejections.  Some were not polite.  Mostly though, I heard nothing.  I also circulated a few printed copies to friends for their feedback.  Still, there was that Pain I couldn’t drink away.  Not even my newborn daughter’s smile could assuage it.  (Ooo big word!) 

Then on Halloween 2008, it all changed.  Long story short, I dressed as Lois Lane (accompanied by my Wife’s Clark Kent) for a party.  I knew what was trapped inside me- my dark secret- but I’d managed to control it, erase it, for twenty five years.  I would be fine.

 

I wasn’t.

 

The psychic wall I’d built crumbled.  Driving home after drinking way too much (Wife and daughter drove separately), I felt at Peace.  All the pain, the anger, all of it… gone.  I looked down at my chest, expanded by a birdseed filled bra, and knew- I was in trouble. 

 

Fast forward to March 2014.  I’d been to therapy, support group meetings, thrown out of the house, lost a dear friend to suicide, almost followed her, I stopped lying, and Lance died.  What emerged from the ashes of a ruined life was Sophie- the person who had been silently screaming for decades.  I’ve also done a LOT of writing, for a blog detailing my transition, online columns, even the New York Times.  The voice I found writing the book was honed a bit.

This isn’t a trans memoir in the traditional sense. I don’t come out in Chapter 3 with a triumphant montage and a power ballad playing in the background. There’s no makeover moment, no wise mentor, no tidy resolution. Most of the people around me back then would’ve laughed—or worse—if I’d said the truth out loud. So I didn’t. I joined a fraternity. I chased girls. I learned how to chug beers and bury feelings. I tried very, very hard to be what I thought a man was supposed to be.

 

Spoiler: I wasn’t very good at it.

 

I didn’t write this book to make myself look good. I couldn’t if I tried. I was insecure, needy, petty, cowardly, and cruel when I thought it would keep me safe. I hurt people. I ghosted people. I threw good things away because I was afraid someone would see through me. And I hated myself for it.  For lying.  To everybody.  For my silence.

 

I hated myself a lot.

 

But that silence, that pretending—it’s part of the story.  It shaped every relationship, every misstep, every small triumph. If you read between the lines, you’ll see the cracks. You’ll hear the longing. You’ll understand the “shame” I couldn’t name because I didn’t have the words.  Or the courage.

 

And if you were there—if you knew me then—I hope you’ll read with grace. I don’t write this to embarrass anyone. I write it because the past deserves to be told honestly. Because I’m tired of pretending. Because, for all its flaws, this story is mine.  And if you deserve an apology, as some do, please know how sorry I am.   

 

The story is about brotherhood. About desire. About trying to belong in a world that felt like it was never built for someone like me. It’s about growing up in the 1980s, under Reagan, AIDS, and the eternal war between cassettes and vinyl. “Tastes Great” and “Less Filling.” It’s about Skull House and Crow House, about parties, betrayals, and those tiny moments of connection that made everything bearable.  It’s about the people who shaped me, whether they knew it or not—and probably wish they didn’t.

 

It’s about a college boy who thought he was writing a coming-of-age story searching for answers, and a woman who finally found her way back to finish it decades later.

 

And yeah, there’s music. Always music. If you want to understand the 1980s, you need to hear the beat. The Devil Inside that moved us all. 

 

What you’ll read is what I wrote Before, with a needed heavy edit, and with commentary and observations from After.  That After solved the puzzle.  That After has no more secrets.  And that before- that after- that’s where the Truth awaits.

 

Let me tell you a story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Living the Dream"

 Yesterday, while preparing to leave for work, I was putting on my shoes and bantering with my roomie/bestie Linda as usual: a typical day.  She said "have a good day" and I replied "living the dream."

That's when my two remaining brain cells nudged me.

I was sitting on the couch while wearing a dress.  I was also wearing a bra which supported my own breasts, pantyhose (yes, I'm old), and pierced hoop earrings.  I was also fully made up and had styled my hair.  I was dressed as the woman I am.  

I thought for a moment about that.  For so many years, this WAS the dream- an impossible dream.  The idea of stepping out the door, never mind going to work, dressed this way, was so beyond possibility that I didn't dare even consider it.  

Yet I've been doing that very thing for almost eleven years.  

Yes, I've paid the very steep price (and will do so the rest of my life), but also yes- I guess I AM living the dream!

And so I went to work.

Be well.

February So Far

 I'm still here.  My existence is in itself an act of protest (or something like that.  Laverne Cox said it.)  I still haven't been sent to a camp somewhere.  Yet.  I'm still here, in spite of my Scottish cousin's repeated appeals.

Here we are on week 3 of the descent into fascism.  People far more informed than me have already written about all that's happening, especially to transgender people.  Here are some links:

Timothy Snyder (noted expert on fascism) on how the government is being dismantled.

Jessica Weingarten on calling out the Trump tax.

Heather Cox Richardson om Musk's government takeover.

Erin Reed who keeps her eye on transgender issues.

Melissa Ryan on multiple topics.  At the bottom of this one is an interesting news item, which I reproduce here:

"Declassified CIA Guide to Sabotaging Fascism Is Suddenly Viral (404 Media)

I read this guide when it first went viral in 2017 (and probably linked to it at some point). Amused that it’s going viral again, I assume it's being passed around at least in part by civil servants determined to hold the line."  

People who know me know I have a passion for history- in particular the history of resistance against the Nazis in WWII.  The headline above is inaccurate- when this guide was published in January 1944, the CIA did not exist.  This book was published by the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), whose brief was "coordination for the gathering of intelligence" (from the above linked article.)Yes, it eventually became the CIA, but it wasn't at that time.  

Nit picking, I know.

Since the beginning of the semester, I've put an effort into my appearance at work.  I've pretty much gotten my makeup speed back by keeping it simple.  That said, this morning I was enraged by my getting cover-up into my hair.  A lot of it.  After a lot of other small things that had gone wrong, that was the one that put me over.  I wanted to tear the room apart, rip out my hair, wipe off all my makeup, and just disappear.  Those who knew me before my transition knew I had a violent, hair-trigger temper.  Transition really helped calm that storm, as has decades of therapy.  However, since November, I find my patience is getting ever thinner.  I want to isolate myself from everything ("turtle" as I call it.)  Of course, not being able to afford a therapist (finding one that takes my insurance is hard) hasn't helped either.  Nor has medical bills piling up by four figures almost daily (my insurance really sucks.)  

Work Sophie Selfie

I know: wah wah.  Cry me a river.

Still, I'm not in a camp somewhere.  I'm still employed.  I can still fight the fascist take-over (as we all should.)  I guess all of those are something.

Be well.

Solstice Scribblings

As I type this, the sun has set on the shortest day of the year.  This entry will be a mish mash of bits I've written over the past few months, some stuff I'm just typing in randomly, and whatever I feel like.  Call it a "clip show" if you will, but without Commander Riker.  

Bonus tribbles for anyone who gets that reference.

I dolled up last weekend.

Anyway, as I mentioned, today is the winter solstice, also known as Hibernal solstice, and, to my friends of the Goddess: Yule.  The Yule celebration is where we in the US get most of our Xmas traditions.  I think I wrote about that once.  Oh yeah- HERE it is!  As to those friends:

"Wishing you blessings this yuletide and every day. This Yule, may you and yours enjoy the blessings of the season and the joy of rebirth. As the light is reborn this winter solstice, may your heart lift with the joy of new beginnings and nature's blessings."

I forget where I dug that up, but I like it.  I didn't write it.  Cut and Paste is your friend.

I'd love to report incredible progress on my PhD but nope.  Still stalled.  Still my fault.  Same reasons, really.  Depression.  Imposter syndrome.  In an effort to kick my ass into gear, I decided to apply for a post doc kinda thing.  

The good news is that I had a class with Dr. Hil Malatino, who is in charge of this.  The bad news is that I also had a class with one of the other professors on the team during my first semester of my PhD studies, and, well, we didn't see eye-to eye.  In any case, I spent several days updating my CV, filled out the application (which included two essay questions of at least 500 words) and submitted it last night.  Do I have a prayer of getting it?  Doubtful- especially since I don't have my PhD yet.  But I COULD have it by August if I get my ass in gear.  So there's that.

As I showed above, I dolled up a few times this month.  I guess I just wanted to feel something.  Maybe it was because it felt so good dressing up for the reunion.  A big reason was that I've lost a lot of weight due to Ozempic and diet change (diabetes sucks), and I was going through my closet trying on things I stopped wearing because I was too fat.  I found several including my jeans!  Another reason I dolled up was because I kept practicing with false eyelashes.  Again and again.  Eventually, I was successful.  So, I dolled up to celebrate.

Look at what I did!

Another piece I fit into was my fave purple sweater.  

Bathroom selfie!

So that was a good thing since my last blog entry.  

Xmas is next week.  Wednesday in fact.  I won't see Wife or Daughter that day, but I may see them on Monday.  I hope so. 

What else is going on?  The usual end of semester money woes which mean trips to the food bank.  Added to that was the fact that my roomie/bestie Linda was sick for 5 weeks and out of work.  My income barely cuts it when both of us work, so that was crippling.  To distract myself from concentrating on that and spiraling deeper into my usual holiday depression, I decided to help a Vampire bride.  She was in a nasty car accident, which totaled her car.  As she ran her own driving business, this is devastating.  Add to that her injuries and broken glasses... it was a stake to her heart.  Like me, she is too proud to ask for help, so I started a GoFundMe for her.  

Hopefully this link works.

Oh, why am I calling her a Vampire bride?  Because we met when we were both in Dracula together at the Forge Theatre.    (Hmmm I thought I had a pic of all four brides, but I don't.)

Two of the four Brides rehearse getting Harker all "bloody."

She has it worse than me.

Penn State won its first playoff football game at Beaver Stadium today against SMU.  It was 25 deg F with a windchill of 10 deg, which I'm guessing was far too cold for those Texans.  Also, it was a "White Out" so it was LOUD.  I didn't score tickets in the student lottery, so I watched it from my couch.  Oh, here's a bit of trivia: at PSU we say "WE ARE PENN STATE!"  This started because of our last game against SMU in 1948.  

Oh, back in July I wrote a blog entry wondering what I would do if fascism won the election.  It did.  And they've already started clamping down of TG people.  In any case, I decided what I'm going to do.  I'm staying here.  There are a few reasons.  The first is that Linda doesn't have a passport, and I won't leave without her.  Second is that I simply don't have the money to leave.  Third is that if I left, I'd feel guilty for leaving.  I can't leave and let my transgender sisters fight on without me.  I've fought all my life (and have the scars to prove it), and I won't stop now.  Fascists need to be fought.  To do any less is to dishonor everyone who fought it last time- in the 40s.  

In any case, that's all I have.  Enjoy whatever holidays you observe.  Be well.

"Hear my Voice" Original Poem for Penn State TDOR 2024.

I wrote and read this for Penn State's Transgender Day of Remembrance- Nov 15, 2024.  The you tube video is my recording of it ( Listen HERE) .  In two places, I spelled sentences out phonetically to aid in my pronunciation.  (This is my reading copy)

*******************************************************************************

Hear My Voice

Sophie Kandler, TDOR 2024

 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, MURDER, SUICIDE 

 

Four hundred eleven killed worldwide in the past year.  Four hundred eleven names.   

Sixty-nine dead here in the US.  Not a record- 73 were killed in 2022. 

Sixty-nine names. Sixty-nine lives.  Sixty-nine stories.  Sixty-nine endings. 

 

My name is Righteous Torrence Hill, but my friends call me Chevy.   

I ran an Atlanta salon where black LGBTQ people could feel safe and be themselves.   

I was 35 in March when my freeloading cousin shot me in front of my home. 

He has yet to be found by the police. 

Hear my voice. 

 

I’m Kitty Monroe, a Latina transgender woman from Phoenix, Arizona.   

I was the sole caregiver for my infirm mother from Mexico, and now I’m gone.  

How? I was 43 when on New Years Day 2024, I was chased by a man and woman, and the man kept beating me on the back with a gun until I collapsed.   

He then got into his pickup truck and ran over me.  I was then accidentally hit by another car.   

Neither the couple nor the other driver, who fled the scene, have ever been identified.   

The police and press misgendered and dead named me.   

Escucha mi voz.  (EssKOOCHah me vohs.)   

Hear my voice.  

 

My name is Serenity Birdsong.   

I was 21 when I killed myself in the Middle Tennessee State University Library on October 28.  

 Friends said I had the ability to light up a room.     

I wrote a poem once that contained the lines: 

But all in all, that which I hope most 

Is to spend time with those I love before I’m a ghost. 

I had no close family- just chosen family. 

Not enough.  Not enough. 

Hear my voice. 

 

Call me Joan.  You may have heard of me.   

Back in 1431, I was burned at the stake three times until my body was ash.   

They wanted to charge me with 70 crimes, then 12, but the only one they could convict me on was crossdressing.   

While the church has since apologized and tried to make amends, I’m still just as dead. 

My ashes drifted away in the river.  I was only 19. 

Some things never change.  

Entends ma Voix (EEcoot ma vwah.)  Hear my voice. 

 

I have no name.   

Maybe I just disappeared into homelessness and died in a tenement, unidentified.   

Maybe I found more comfort stepping out into traffic than from my parents who rejected me. 

Maybe I was murdered, and my bones still molder in a shallow grave somewhere.  

Or maybe they found me, but the police didn’t bother to look for my killer.   

After all, what’s another dead prostitute anyway? 

Maybe I was found, but deadnamed and my truth never told.   

Not a name- just a statistic.   

I am a number cited by advocates and scholars.   

But once I lived, loved, and had dreams- like you.   

And like you, I am a story waiting to be told. 

 

Where’s your voice? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three More Days 'Til Halloween

Title stolen from here.

As I write/type this, the date is October 28, 2024.  I awoke early today, as I had an 8 AM doctor appointment (transition med check among other things.)   I was rewarded with a beautiful sunrise featuring peach and blue-gray clouds.  

During my appointment, I found that my gall bladder issues were a side effect of estrogen that's uncommon, but happen.  Huh.  Learn something new every day.

In any case, it's Halloween season.  Samhain for some.  Long time readers know that this marks an anniversary- on Halloween 2008, I "rediscovered" myself.  That night I went out dressed as Lois Lane to my Wife's Clark Kent.  (Full story... hmmm   did I ever write the whole story?  I'll check TG Forum...)  The dam that held back 25 years of denial broke.  

That was *counts on fingers and toes* 14 years ago.  I didn't expect to live this long, never mind being Sophie full time among other things.  But, yes, it'll be 14 years, 10 of which I've been full time.  I feel so old.  But in any case, being my age and having been out for so long, kinda makes me a "trans elder."  I have stories to tell, many of which I've told here or on TG Forum (my last post there was August and concerns stories.  Read it HERE.)

I used to be a Halloween fanatic.  Don't get me wrong- I still love the season.  Heck, I'm wearing a jack o lantern face T-shirt as I type this!)  It's just... not as special.  It's been years since I've been to a Halloween party, and I haven't been out on Halloween night since 2019 (I wore my Supergirl suit.)  We don't get trick or treaters where I live.  I used to LOVE planning Halloween parties, which we held at M's house (see M here).  She didn't mind as I and a few others did all the setup, execution, and clean up.  I miss those parties, and the people who attended them.

Hmmm... it seems I never wrote the full story on that first night in 2008.  I thought I did.  Maybe I just can't find it.  

Right.

The story begins two years before: 2006.  Wife and I loved doing couple costumes.  That year, we did Lois Lane and Clark Kent.  Halloween 2007 we didn't as my daughter was born Oct 26.  No Halloween for Wife.  Anyway, a week before Halloween 2008, Wife and I went out to dinner to celebrate her birthday.  As we waited for our food, she brought up the topic of Halloween.  That year, Wife suggested another couple costume: Lois and Clark again.  I said "we've already done that."  She replied "No- this time YOU'RE Lois."  At that moment, the food arrived.  I seem to remember saying yes to the idea, but Wife isn't sure.

So that set off a week of panicked planning.  I enlisted the help of my coworker Elizabeth to help with an outfit and bra.  I got a wig from a Halloween store.  My friend Dawn, who is a beautician, volunteered to do my makeup.  

It took all week, but I managed to find everything (including getting shoes that fit sent 2 day air).  The night of October 30, after everyone was in bed, I pulled out the items and tried them on.  Everything fit.  I crafted my boobs from birdseed in pantyhose feet (a trick I learned from reading the fantastic I am not myself these days by Josh Kilmer Purcell.)  Everything fit.  

The next night as Wife fed Daughter (the natural way) I changed into my outfit and wig.  With me I had the Superman T shirt that I used for Clark Kent (which I still have.)  I finished dressing, put on the wig, grabbed he t-shirt and my phone, and exited the bathroom.  Wife was in the kitchen.  I called out to her and said "ready!!"  She turned and looked at me with a look of disgust.  I took a picture of that expression.  I then tossed her the t-shirt and said "I'll take care of changing [daughter], you get ready."  Then she remembered what we'd discussed for our costumes.

The first party was one at Dawn's.  We brought Daughter, who was barely over a year old.  Dawn did my makeup, everyone had a good laugh (as well as fussing over the baby.)  Wife wanted to go home, so she drove herself to the party.  

I drove to the bookstore, where I wandered around a bit.  Elizabeth was upstairs working in music, so I went to see her.  No one recognized me except her.  They knew I was a crossdresser, but no idea who it was.  After taking pics with Elizabeth, I went downstairs and revealed my identity to the rest of the staff.  Gasps of disbelief and laughs.

With Elizabeth

After this, I went to the bar where we'd all meet.  Some people I didn't know, then my coworkers arrived.  We hung out and drank (I used the men's room.)  One guy was uncomfortable with me, so I made sure to pester him because I was an asshole.  

On the way home, (I shouldn't have been driving... I'd pay the price eventually) I looked down at myself... down at the fake breasts pushing out my sweater... and thought about how right I felt.  I thought about how, for the first time in decades, I didn't feel anger or Pain.  I was at Peace.

I knew that I was in trouble.  

One of "More pictures"

I got back home, where everyone was asleep (It was after 2 AM.)  I quietly took more pictures, then removed my girl things, probably forever.  I washed my face, and... damn nails wouldn't come off.  It would take a lot of time the next day to dissolve them off.

The rest I KNOW I wrote about more than once.  Find that HERE.

In any case, all these years later, here I sit typing in State College.  My roomie/bestie Linda is in the other room recovering from an illness.  Soon, I'll start making dinner.  Thursday is Halloween.  Maybe I'll go out.  Maybe not.  I doubt it.  No fun going alone.

In any case, Happy Halloween or Blessed Samhain.

Be well.

58 and 11

As I write this, it's mid September.  Long time readers know that I hate September more than Green Day does.  I was thrown out from my family very late August (that counts), I last saw Lisa Empanada in September, and she died Sept 17.  Then there was the funeral. All of these events were in 2013: eleven years ago.  But there's another reason I hate September that repeats every year so far- my birthday, which this year fell on a Friday.  Friday the 13th.  Insert joke here.  Oh, in case you're interested, I was born on a Tuesday, not Friday, despite my bad luck.  

Friday, September 13, 2024

I'm now 58, a fact I don't hide.  So many don't get this far (Lisa was 52.)  I don't deserve to be this age.  I planned to exit quietly when I turned 50, and a few times before that (like when I was 24.) I absolutely wanted to drink myself to death before I was thirty.  

What have I accomplished this past year?

Absolutely nothing.  

I am still at the exact same point in my PhD studies now as I was at this time last year (I wrote about that here.)  In fact, with the exception of a presentation I did on LGBTQ history at Penn State, I haven't written anything aside from the occasional blog entry and a sparse amount in writing notebooks.  I've sat in front of my computer, staring at the IRB screen for hours, blankly.  I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, or hugging a pillow for dear life.  I no longer have hobbies.  My therapist no longer takes my insurance.  I spent Christmas night in the Emergency room in agony.  No more gall bladder.  Over $10,000 in medical debt.  A Group of coworkers turned me down for a job for which I was very qualified (and, when I re-applied after the job was re-posted, HR said I "wasn't qualified.")  Oh, and 45 has a very real chance of winning the election and implementing his fascistic "Project 2025" which will mean suffering and death for many, including people like me. (Yes, I've read the whole 900+ pages- and I urge you to do so as well.)

Ok, but as several people I know would say- let's look at the positive.  I received a fellowship which covered fall tuition.  That helped.  As a last resort, I started a GoFundMe for my debt which raised almost $5,000.  That didn't cover everything but combined with settling up payment plans, it made the medical debt almost manageable.  Using the fellowship, I was able to purchase student insurance that covers so much more than what I had previously- including dental, which means I can get long needed dental work.  I've lost over thirty pounds which put me back into pre-diabetic stage (and means I can fit in a few things again.)  I saw Wife and daughter this weekend, and we had a nice lunch.  

So it is, the positive and negative.  

I often wonder what Lisa would be like today, had she lived until now.  Would she be happy?  Would she be at peace?  What would she think of the world today, and the situation people like us face?  What  would she think of me now, and who I have become?  

Lisa and Ally (who posted this pic), undated.

Obviously, no one will ever know the answers.  Tuesday will mark eleven years since Lisa was found.  For nearly all that time, Lisa's earthly self has resided in various urns and small amounts of ash scattered at various locations.  Those who knew her can only guess, wonder, and endure.  

Eleven years.  Yes, time has assuaged some of pain.  Time does that- it's one of the few favors it allows.  There is still, and will always be, an empty part of my soul, and what is left of my heart.  That part was ripped away when she decided to die.  She died alone, as she planned, with none to stop her.  

This week, I remember Lisa, and also cope with age- something she never had to do.  

Be well.

Branches and Paths

The other day marked five years since returning to State College for my PhD.  I wrote about it HERE and HERE, if you care.  For five years, I've worked on my degree- filling my head with academic articles, books, experiences, losses.  For the past two though, I've been kinda stalled.  I'll come back to this.

I've written here and elsewhere that Penn State is my happy place, and, if I could not live with Wife and Daughter, I may as well be in my happy place.  I dragged Linda (roomie/bestie) with me, and I don't know if she's happy about that.  (I think not, really.) In any case, for the past five years, my life has revolved around academia.  Eventually, I found a series of jobs, both at Wegmans and, for the past three years, here at the LGBT Center (I mention that a bit HERE.)

Since returning, I've taken a LOT of pictures (2,444 as of this second).  It's easy when one has access to a camera on the phone at all times.  I didn't have many photos from my undergrad days, and the ones I had were done with borrowed cameras.  Most of those were for the fraternity scrapbook, which, like the negatives, are lost.  I guess I'm making up for that a bit.  

One of the subjects I photograph often are the pathways here.  They honeycomb the campus like a spiderweb on LSD.  I can't stop thinking about the metaphor they represent.  The paths branch, going to different destinations, or just different paths to the same destination.  When I was in undergrad, I occasionally would take a longer route than necessary to reach my destination (when I wasn't running late.)  I didn't think twice about it, but in truth, each of these choices, conscious or unconscious, changed my life.  Had I taken a different way, say back to the fraternity house, who knows who I would've met?  What could've happened.  Perhaps I would've been hit by a car, or met the love of my life.    

And that's the metaphor of the Paths.  They represent the different paths a life could take- especially when one is younger, say, college age.  Who would I have become had I stayed at Drexel?  What if I got that job at National Records and never had to apply to Burger King, where I would meet the people who defined my Penn State experience for good and ill.  What if I decided "fuck those guys" when I received the cold reception at the fraternity and found a different group of people to hang with?  Who would I be today?

Would I even be alive?

It's a cliche to say that our choices, even the smallest ones, can change and define our lives.  Now in my late  fifties, so much of my life is set in stone.  I can't change my past.  I can't change who I am, or what I've done.  I have a daughter, and that's forever.  while some of the people I've met pass like shadows, others left deep marks and scars on my soul.  (What I hadn't gone to the Raven that night in January 2012, and met Lisa?)  

Nothing is permanent in life.  While I will always have a daughter, the nature of my relationship with her can/will change.  Life itself is temporary- a heartbeat in time.  Moments pass.

Which brings me back to that whole stalled thing.  I've been stuck in the same place in my path for two years.  Some of it has been deep depression.  Some of it has been fear- the fear of Failure, and yes, of the remote possibility of success.  But recently I think I figured out what my major malfunction is: I don't want it to end.  I don't want to leave PSU again.  Leaving in December '88 (and graduating in May '89), threw me into a very dark place.  I would've given ANYTHING to come back and be a student again- to return to that time.  

I was obsessed with it.  Hell, I even wrote a book about that time, trying to figure out what about that time could've caused such a depression when, really, most of the time I really didn't have a pleasant experience.  My brothers were cold to me, my girlfriend cheated, my grades were meh... Why did I want to go back?

But I am back.  I am such a different person now, and much older, which makes me outside the 'target audience.' But there's another big anchor... 

Here I'm employed.  I have a job.  I spent so long after the bookstore fired me on the unemployment line, sending hundreds of resumes and hearing nothing.  Rejection after rejection.  Here I have a job.  Yes, it's part time, but on some days I feel like I actually make a difference- my path intersects another person's.  That I'm actually worth something, if only for a moment.  

My path returned me here.  I fought to get my place, and I've managed to continue while others from my cohort... didn't.  I'm striving to reach the peak of the academic ladder.  I never in my wildest dreams expected my path to lead here.  Then again, I never expected my path to take me to transition.  I thought/hoped/prayed that my path would end before my thirtieth birthday.  And again on my fiftieth.

September 1986.  Pic by Chuck Fong

My road brought me here.  And, as before, I'm afraid to leave.  I'm afraid of failure.  I'm afraid of success.  I'm afraid of unemployment again.  So much for "rush[ing] in where angels fear to tread" (Alexander Pope, 1709.)  So I stare at the ceiling.  I walk around campus, following old paths I trod long ago.  Again.

Tolkien wrote in Fellowship of the Rings: “It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”  

So true.

Be well.

To Run or...?

As my readers know, I follow politics closely.  I have to, as it seems that so few are paying attention.  For example, as I've posted here, on TG Forum, and on facialbook:

The GOP made clear its plans "Eradication" (see Project 2025, also CPAC march 2023), Trump said "On day one, I will sign a new executive order to cut federal funding for any school pushing critical race theory, transgender insanity, and other inappropriate racial, sexual, or political content onto the lives of our children" (TPUSA speech, June 15, 2024)  

Anti- trans bills skyrocketed from 143 in 2021 (18 passed) to 600 (87 passed) in 2023. In 2024, there have already been 625 bills (47 passed) and we’re only 1/2 through the year. (https://translegislation.com/)...

A careful reading of Project 2025 states intent: 

Project 2025 wants to label our very existence as ‘pornographic’ and threatening to children, which to them is punishable by execution.

“Pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children, for instance, is not a political Gordian knot inextricably binding up disparate claims about free speech, property rights, sexual liberation, and child welfare. It has no claim to First Amendment protection. Its purveyors are child predators and misogynistic exploiters of women. Their product is as addictive as any illicit drug and as psychologically destructive as any crime.  Pornography should be outlawed. The people who produce and distribute it should be imprisoned. Educators and public librarians who purvey it should be classed as registered sex offenders [emphasis mine]. And telecommunications and technology firms that facilitate its spread should be shuttered.” (Project 2025, p.5)

 “[The next conservative Administration] should also pursue the death penalty for applicable crimes—particularly heinous crimes involving violence and sexual abuse of children [emphasis mine]—until Congress says otherwise through legislation. [footnote referenced]”. (p. 554).

Oh, what does the footnote say? “This could require seeking the Supreme Court to overrule Kennedy v. Louisiana, 554 U.S. 407 (2008), in applicable cases, but the department should place a priority on doing so.” (p. 576)

554 U.S. 407 reads “Sentencing a defendant to death for any crime other than homicide or crimes against the state is unconstitutional per se under the Eighth Amendment.” (“Kennedy v. Louisiana, 554 U.S. 407 (2008)”)

So... Eradication.  45 is currently leading in polls thanks to an "assassination attempt."  (Sorry- I'm not buying it- I believe it was staged.)  If he wins, the US becomes a dictatorship.  The GQP has already declared its plans (see above.)  

Would I be "safe" in a college town?  Would my door be kicked in at 2 am some night?  Or will Linda or me be pulled over and arrested for being ourselves?  I really don't know.  After all Penn State is a tiny Blue dot in an ocean of Red.  Once one leaves State College, Cult flags, signs, bumper stickers, hats, and tattoos are very common.  

So... should I leave?

With my cousins in Glasgow, Scotland, 2018.

I've explored fleeing to the UK.  I'm eligible for dual citizenship, as my mum and her side of the family are/were British subjects.  There are many hoops to jump through, but it's do-able.  Or I could ask for Political Asylum.  Is the UK ideal?  No- it has its problems, especially with TERFs.  But the UK hasn't said people like me are sex offenders to be "eradicated."

And, should I leave, how long would it be before I see Wife and Daughter again?  I've already missed so much of Daughter's life- fleeing means I'd miss years more.  Wife and Daughter are my life.  

Then there's the issue of Linda.  If she's to come with me (as I hope she would) she will need her passport, which takes time.  That's IF she wants to come along.  As she's not full time, she might be safe.  Might.  

My studies?  I could do that anywhere- including overseas if necessary.  For example, I could/would mov back to SEPa (to be closer to Wife and Daughter) if I thought I had a prayer of finding a job back there.  But, as experience has shown me, I don't- so I haven't.  Besides, Linda and I both HATE moving.  (Going overseas would entail leaving almost everything behind.)

Then there's another issue.  I read a LOT of books about the Maquis and the French Resistance in WW2.  Some of them fled France, only to return later as Allied operatives, trained by British and US intelligence (Jedburghs is one of the names of this program.)  Let's face it- I'm too old and broken for military training, and being obviously transgender means I don't blend in.  So, if I leave, it's for the duration.

I know people who fled from middle eastern countries due to dictatorships- people who fought for the freedom of these countries.  Their choice was to come to the US, survive, and continue their work here in some manner.  

But I Love my country.  Like so many others, I would die for it. Is it better to stay and fight the fascists at my age, probably disappear into a camp or jail somewhere, or to flee, live, an agitate from abroad?   Where could I do the most to help transgender people who are like myself and people dear to me? 

I have several friends who have already made plans to relocate to Mexico, Canada, or even Australia.  Such a move (like to the UK) would cost money I don't have.  Heck, I'm far behind in my bills and we literally have one day of food left in the apartment with no money to get more.  How would I afford to emigrate- even, say, to Canada, which is only a four-hour drive away (to the Peace Bridge, anyway)?  

Another question is this: should the US become a fascist Christian Nationalist theocratic oligarchy (which is what Project 2025 documents,) how long would it be before the Constitution is restored?  45 can't live forever, that's true, but he has sons to whom he could pass power, or to hand-picked (and/or Putin appointed) sycophantic successors.  The last time the world faced such a dictatorship, it cost 6 years and a conservative estimate of 85 MILLION lives to dislodge- most of those deaths due to genocide- and that was BEFORE nuclear weapons threatened global annihilation.  And if 45 wins, the button triggering those weapons would be in the hands of a madman.  

So, dear reader, I ask: what would YOU do in my shoes?  Stay? Go? 

Be well.

Crossdresser Questionnaire

I saw this on Facialbook, and it looked fun.  As long-time readers of this blog know, I consider crossdressers to be part of the transgender tapestry.  "There but for the grace of God" and all that.  Most crossdressers I know (and I know many) would transition if they could, but circumstances prevent that.  I know a few who dress purely for the enjoyment of "art."  But not many.  

I'll put a "clean" copy in the comments for those that wish to fill it out for their social media. 

A lot of these questions were covered by previous blog entries, which I will link where appropriate.

As none of these questions reveal anything about passwords or such, here we go...

************************************************************************

100 Crossdressing Questions Answered

1. How old were you when you realized you were different? 

Four.  I remember it distinctly. 

2. How old were you when you first tried wearing women’s clothes, make up etc? 

Mum dressed me as a girl for Halloween when I was seven.  Aside from that, I was twelve when I started dressing on my own.  

 

3. Have you ever told anyone you were a Crossdresser?

Before coming out to my wife, no.  Now everyone knows my "dark secret."

4. At what age did you come up with your femme name? 

It was December 2008, so I was 42.  Details HERE.

5. Did you use any other femme names before you chose your current name if so what was it?

For maybe a month before Sophie, I was Lisa.  Lisa is now my middle name to honor Lisa Empanada. 

6. How did you come up with your Femme name?

Karen at Femme Fever gave it to me.  Details HERE (same link as above)

Femme Fever Dec. 2008

7. Have you ever been caught dressed?

Once, by my older brother. Story HERE.  I had several close calls, but only caught the one time- and that was because I was wearing makeup. 

8. How did the people you told take it?

Wife took the crossdressing part as well as could be asked.  I lost 90% of my friends.  Many said they'd support me than disappeared.  My family disowned me for a while.  Mother in law threw me out.   

9. Are you married? 

Yes. 

10. Does your spouse know? and if so are they accepting? 

Yes.  See #8 above.

11. What was the first article of women’s clothes you ever bought?

Pantyhose.  Leggs. In the plastic egg.

12. What was the last article of women’s clothes you bought? 

A swimsuit.  One piece.

13. Long or short skirts? 

I used to love short skirts, but now I prefer mid or knee length.

14. Do you venture out dressed? If yes how often do you go out dressed? 

Well, yes.  I've been full time for over ten years.  

15. If you could go back and change one thing about your Crossdressing what would it be? 

Wow.  Maybe not beat myself up for it all those years.  Or not to have the urge to do it (which turned out to be gender dysphoria.)

16. Do you feel being a Crossdresser makes you a better person? If yes how so? 

It caused me a lot of pain and pleasure.  The pain of lying to my wife, and the eventual destruction of my life as I knew it.  In the end, I am a better person, as before transition, I was an angry asshole.  The anger is mostly gone now.  I may not be happy, but I am at peace.

17. How long were you dating / married before you told your significant other or spouse?

We had been married 19 years at that point.  

18. What is your favorite article of clothing? 

I have a favorite bra, but my fave has to be my teal dress.  I like it so much that I bought a second one which waits, still in its plastic, if the other one is ever ruined or torn or whatever.

This dress (#18 above)

19. If you have bought your own clothes, have you ever had any issues with store clerks?

No, I never have.  Funny, right?

20. What is your greatest Crossdressing accomplishment?

I think it's an accomplishment that I went out in public at all.  I'd have to say it was the friendships I developed over time.  If not for people like my "big sister" Mel, Lisa Empanada, Linda Lewis, Ally Raymond, Amanda Richards, Victoria Datta, Kimberly Huddle, Jenny J, and Jen L, and so many others, I would be long dead.  

21. What is your favorite brand of make up?

MAC.  It usually works for me.  

22. Do you wear perfume? If yes what is your favorite fragrance?

I do when I get really dressed up.  I usually wear Clinique "Happy".  Do they even make that nay more?  I'm almost out.

23. How many lipsticks do you own? 

Umm... I never counted.  Somewhere around 10 I think.  Mostly MAC, but some others. 

24. What is your favorite color of lipstick called?

MAC "Syrup" is what I wear the most.

25. Did you buy breast forms or do you make your own?

I bought them, and eventually sold them on eBay.  My breasts are all natural now.  

26. Do you ever have dreams related to Crossdressing? if yes what was it? 

Funny enough, no.  All my life I would be female in some dreams, male in others, or switch back an forth.  Still that way.

27. When not dressed how often do you think about it, for example while at work? 

I used to- really often.  When I was dressing once a month, I would plan my outfits all month.

28. Favorite hair removal method? 

I did laser, and some electrolysis.  The laser lasted around 10 years, but my beard is now coming back.  It's frustrating.

29. If you could spend a day with anyone else dressed who would it be? 

As I'm full time, this no longer applies really.  I love hanging out with my friends as it's been so long.

30. Do you have space in the closet for your clothes or do you have to hide them? 

At first I hid them in boxes in the basement, labeled "Games." We'd moved from Baltimore and most of our stuff were in boxes in the basement.  I eventually got a storage space, which came in handy when I was thrown out.  Now, they are the only clothes I have.

31. Have you ever purged your clothes? 

August 1983.  I was going to be a MAN, and men don't wear dresses.  I fell into a deep depression and couldn't understand why.

32. Given the opportunity would you take a job where you could work as either your male or female self at any time? 

Again, not applicable.  I'm full time.  

33. Do you paint your natural finger nails or use fake ones? 

I have some fake nails for special occasions, but usually natural. 

34. What Color do you like to use on your finger nails? 

Brilliant red, but lately I've done others.

35. Do you keep your toe nails painted? 

No, except when I treat myself to a pedicure.  

36. What color nail polish do you like best on your toes? 

Usually brilliant red.  I'm dull.

37. If you wear make up what part do you find the hardest to learn how to do? 

Eyes- specifically fake lashes.  I've never been able to do those.

38. Have you ever had a professional make over? 

Yes. Mostly from the legendary Amanda Richards, but not all.  I love makeovers.  

39. Have you ever worn a Bikini or other swimsuit? 

Yes 

40. Do you own or have you ever worn a Wedding Dress?

Yes, at an Amanda Richards photoshoot.  

41. Do you own a wig or use your own hair? 

My own hair, but I may have to go back to wigs due to hair loss. I still have wigs.

42. How often are you able to dress up during the week? 

24/7/365.  I paid the price.

43. How many Blouses do you own? 

No idea.

44. How many Skirts do you own? 

No idea.

45. How many Dresses do you own? 

No idea.

46. How many bra’s do you own? 

Over 20.  I should go through them... 

47. How many pair’s of panties do you own? 

Around 20.  Maybe 5 shapewear. 

48. What is your favorite color for lingerie? 

Red or black.  My daily ones are usually black or buff.

49. Pantythose or Thigh Highs? 

I don't have occasion to wear them, but I prefer pantyhose. 

50. Favorite place to shop for misc items? 

I prefer to shop local.

51. Favorite place to shop for Make up? 

Ulta is the only place in town.

52. Favorite place to shop for clothes? 

Torrid, Long Tall Sally

53. Favorite place to shop for Lingerie? 

I usually get that from online as there's few place around here.

54. Best time you can think of spent dressed up? 

Two come immediately to mind.  Lisa's affirmation party, and the Debutante Ball that friends threw for me on my one-year transition anniversary.

Debutante ball

55. If you could have the ultimate day out where would you go? 

A day on vacation with my wife, daughter, and Linda.  Somewhere fun.  

56. Funniest thing that’s ever happened to you while Crossdressing? 

I've had many fun times with my dear friends.  I can't think of one right now.  If I do, I'll add to this.  

57. Do you have pierced ears or wear clip ons?

Pierced.  It was one of the first things I did.  2009?  2010?

58. Do you wear heels? 

When I have an occasion, yes. 

59. How long did it take you to learn how to walk in heels? 

I used to practice this.  Many hours.

 

60. How many pairs of heels do you own? 

Maybe 10. My day to day are flats.

61. Name an article of Women’s clothing you can’t live without? 

Bras. I mean, duh.

62. What is one article of Women’s clothes you don’t like? 

Tops that bare the midriff.

63. Do you sleep in a nightie?

Occasionally.  

64. What type of panties do you like? 

I love the silky ones, but most of mine are cotton.

65. What is your Favorite color for a dress? 

I'm told that I look good in jewel tones.  I also have a lot of black.

66. When you’re wearing pantyhose, what do you do with your junk? Let it be free or tuck it up and tape? 

I used to have to tuck but not anymore. 

67. What stops you from ‘dressing’ in public? Fear of yourself or of others? 

I was afraid of the consequences... almost all of which happened. 

68. When did you first know your taste in fashion was different from other boys? 

Around 4

69. When did you tell your wife? What was her reaction?

As above, May 3, 2012.  Story HERE. 

70. What would you tell your 5 year old self if you could? 

You aren't alone.  You aren't a freak.  

71. Do you shave your chest and armpits as well as your legs? 

Armpits.  Thanks to HRT, I don't really need to shave my chest.  Thank God, as furry boobs would suck.

72. Have you ever told anyone and they reacted badly? 

Almost everyone when I came out.  Aside from that, not really

73. What was your most surprising reaction when telling someone? 

I call him "R" in my blog.  Details HERE.

74. For most women, taking the bra off at the end of the day and having a good under-boob scratch is the equivalent to a man scratching his nut-sack. Is it the same when you take off your bra? 

Absolutely.  It feels great.  

75. How did you feel the first time you ‘dressed’? 

It felt “right”. It felt correct.  Like I was being me for the first time.

76. How did you feel the last time you ‘dressed’? 

N/A as I'm full time.

Last time I wore makeup- a couple of weeks ago

77. Do you and your wife share clothes? 

Hell no.  She's a petite woman and I'm a fat mess.

78. What do you wish everyone understood about why you dress that no one seems to really get? 

That being transgender is biological- e don't choose this.  And we aren't "groomers" or anything evil.  We just want to live our lives.

79. Do you prefer skirts and dresses or pants? 

Skirts and dresses. I wore pants for 47 years- that's enough.

 

80. How do you hide your 5 o’clock shadow? 

I use Mehron beard cover.  then foundation over that.   

81. If you could go somewhere on the planet where not one soul knew who you were and publicly dress, would you? 

Back in the day, I realized quickly that when I was fully enfemme, I was unrecognizable.  I may be clocked as a cd, but not as [dead name].  I avoided the places I frequented as a guy, though.  The funny part was that the party I'd go to was, for years, in a restaurant right next door to the bookstore where I worked.

82. Do you think you’ll ever tell your children? 

I did- right before I transitioned.  Story HERE.

83. What will you tell your children (if you don’t intend to tell them) and they find out accidentally?  

I never considered that, as she was 6 when I transitioned, and I never dressed as Sophie when she was home, so...

84. Why aren’t women who wear menswear considered cross-dressers? 

Because masculinity is fragile and must be proven almost every day, while femininity is never questioned.  A woman in guy clothes is still a woman- a lesbian is still a woman.  If a guy dresses as a female or is gay, other men consider him effeminate and therefore week and not a man.  There were many studies done on this, like:

Stanaland, A., Gaither, S., & Gassman-Pines, A. (2023). When is masculinity “fragile”? An expectancy-discrepancy-threat model of masculine identity. Personality and social psychology review, 27(4), 359-377. 

85. Where the hell do you find shoes to fit? 

On-line.  Such as HERE, HERE, and HERE among others.

86. What is the longest you have ever dressed for? 

123 months.  Or 536 weeks.  Or 3753 days.  You get the idea. 

87. Do your bra and panties have to match? 

Sometimes.  I don't really try to match them as nobody will see them.

88. Do you find there is a big difference between your male and female self? If so how? 

I was much angrier and in "pain" s a guy.  I felt like a failure as a man- unable to provide for my family, etc.  Now I'm at peace.  Not happy- just at peace.  And that will have to be enough.

89. Does it matter to you if you “Pass” or not? 

It would be great to pass, and I try to as much as possible, but it’s not really realistic.  I like to show cleavage as it's a feminine signal, but...

90. Do you “Pass”?

Hell no.

91. How long does it take you to get all dressed up? With makeup? 

Depends upon how much makeup.  Anywhere from 30- 90 minutes.  Back in the day it took at least 90 minutes. 

92. If you had a chance to remove your desire to Crossdress would you take it? 

Too late now, but yes- absolutely.

93. Do you have any female role models and if so who are they? 

As a crossdresser, they were Linda Lewis, Ana Christina Garcia, Heidi Phox, Kimberly Huddle... so many.  Now?  Sophie Scholl, Jennifer Finney Boylan, Donna Rose, others as well.  And every transgender woman who lives her Truth.  

With Ana Christina Garcia at Keystone Conference 2022

 

94. Do you listen to anything while getting ready? 

Sometimes.  Usually 80s stuff or Grateful Dead

95. What do you hope to accomplish by Crossdressing? 

This is really a stupid question.  If anything, I hoped to find peace and perhaps the companionship of people like myself.  I wanted to feel like I wasn't alone with this.

96. What do you expect crossdressing to teach you about being a woman and the experiences associated with it? 

I don’t pretend to know what a cisgender woman experiences. But I now understand what it means to be without male privilege, and what it means to have rights stripped away.

97. Do your personal or political views change as a result of the experiences of crossdressing? 

No.  I've always been a raging liberal.  However, it's made me more outspoken about rights, like I was in my teens/twenties.

98. Has your views on relationships changed with crossdressing in your life? 

No.  I just miss what I had with wife and daughter.   

99. What was your best Crossdressing experience? 

Aside from what was noted above, I'd say that first look into the mirror at Femme Fever at Sophie.  I didn't recognize myself.

Sophie's first picture

100. What was your worst Crossdressing experience? 

Aside from being thrown out, which wasn't really a "crossdressing" experience...  Easily Lisa's funeral.  I don't know how I survived that month.