Men of the Skull Chapter 75 First Hint & Chapter 76: Confession

Alert readers may notice I skipped a chapter.  That's due to it being something that was more family related- my grandfather's death and the aftermath.  In any case, the next two chapters are both short and related.  

I like to think I'm quite observant.  I see things that others don't.  That said, when it comes to seeing people's reactions to me, I'm absolutely clueless.  For example, in the first chapter, I should've taken the hint and saved myself a LOT of pain down the road.  Now, over thirty years later, I know that I didn't because 1) I didn't want to be alone again (never mind I was going back to school with all those single people) and 2) Virginia was a remnant of a few of the best times in my life.  Never mind what I knew about how I really felt, which is revealed in the second chapter of this group, which shows how utterly selfish and hypocritical I was.  

Time teaches many things- it's taught me that I was not only an asshole, but a stupid one as well.  

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Chapter 75: First Hint

Sunday, August 16, 1987 Mine sinks ship outside gulf; 1 dead

            “Lance, we need to talk.”

            Oh shit!  I hated those words.  Still do.  It always means I’m about to be hurt somehow.

            I worked the matinee at Lily’s that day and made a whopping $28.  It was late as I drove Virginia home from work.  That’s when she said it.  Lou Graham was lecturing on the radio, with his only solo hit.

         “Son, life is simple- it’s either cherry red… or Midnight Blue.  Oh ohhh ohhhhh”

             “Ok.  About what?”  I said as I parked the car near her house.

            “I think we should see other people.”

            The familiar hollow pain grabbed me.

            “Why?”  I said.

            “We’ve been fighting so much and we’ll be going back up to school soon so I think we should have a fresh start.”

            “A fresh start.”

            “Yeah.  You’re going to be living in the house so you’ll be able to meet someone.”

            “Are you afraid of me being in the house?”  I said.

            She opened the car door and got out.  I did as well.

            “It’s not working, Lance.”

            “I think it is and will if you don’t give up.”

            She kept walking and didn’t look at me.

            “Is it because you want somebody else?”  I said.

            “No!  I love you but it’s just…”

            A few steps.

            “Just?”  I said.

            “Forget it.”  She stopped, turned to me and held me. 

            “Forget I said anything.”

 

            “I love you too,” I said as she started to cry quietly.

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Chapter 76:  Confession

 Tuesday, August 18, 1987 Hitler aide Rudolf Hess is dead at 93

 

            I couldn’t get back to Penn State fast enough.  Everything was flying apart.  My parents couldn’t say a word to me without yelling.  Virginia wanted to break up (or did she?)  Grandpop was dead, and the whole family was fighting over the will.  The only refuges I had were bartending and what little time I could spend with my friends.

            I moved what little I had into the tiny room, and spent the day getting phone service sorted out and buying books.  It was good to be home, AND living in the Bone!

 

August 4, 1987 Collegian

It was late afternoon when Judy called the downstairs phone.  “Why don’t you come down for dinner?”

            She was living with Michelle and Tracy for the year.  Judy and Virginia were no longer speaking, never mind living together.  The apartment was in Sutton Court, but in a different part of the building than Judy lived in before.  Her phone wasn’t even hooked up yet-she’d called from CC Peppers across the street.  Michelle and Tracy wouldn’t show up until the next day.

            I arrived twenty minutes later to an apartment full of boxes.  I helped her unpack a little, and then we went to CC Peppers for dinner.  We talked about the summer, Arts Fest, her family, bartending and other things.   

We ended up sitting on the couches as the sun was setting.  The dying light streamed in through the open curtains on the window, and the room kept getting darker.  She sat with her back to the window, and was silhouetted by the sunset.

            “So,” Judy said, “how are things with Virginia?”

            I was wondering when she was going to get around to that. 

            “Well, not great.  We almost broke up last week.”

            “Really?  Why?” she asked with a flat tone.

            “I’m not sure.  I think she probably wanted to be free for the new semester.  Or she’s afraid of something.  Either way, we didn’t break up.”

            “You talked her out of it?”
            “No, she kinda talked herself out of it.”

            “How did she do that?” she asked.  She obviously didn’t believe me.

            “It’s really hard to explain.”

            “Virginia usually is,” Judy said with a bit of disgust.

            “I really didn’t want to come between you two.  That’s the last thing I wanted to happen.”

            “Would you like something to drink?” she asked, standing up.  The sun was all but gone, and the light was a ghostly yellow grey.

            “Sure. If you’re having something.”

            She walked into the kitchen.

            “In fact, I almost broke up with her several times” I said, quieter than I wanted to.

            Judy returned with a coke.  “Really?  Why?” she asked.  Her face was cold- expressionless.

            “Her mood swings.  I mean, she goes from zero to bitch in five seconds.  She’s got a lot of problems.  Plus maybe there are other people who I’d rather be seeing.”

            “So why are you still together?” she asked, sitting down on the other couch again.

            “I don’t know.  I’m afraid to be alone I guess.  Besides, the other people aren’t available.”

            I looked over to the other couch. Judy was a black shadow in the growing darkness.

            “Do you love her?” she asked.

           

           

“In many ways… yes.”

            “Like in which ways?”

            “Do you want me to turn on a light or something?”

            “No thank you.”

            “Ohhh-kaayyy.  Well, she’s been a part of my life for nearly a year now, and because, um, we’re seeing each other it’s, uh, natural that we’d get a little closer.  She represents something special to me.  Like you do.”

            She stifled a laugh.  “How am I special?”

            Watch yourself, Lance.  Be careful.

            “Everything about you is special” I replied.  “I wish things were different.”

            “In what way?” she asked quickly.

            “Lots of ways.  But… well, there’s always… I mean…”

            “Lance, what are you trying to say?” she asked, annoyed.

            “Maybe I should go” I said, and stood up.  “I don’t want to make you angry.”

            “You’ve become very good at it.”

            I turned to leave and tripped over a box- face first to the dark floor.

            “Shit!  Oww!”

            Judy turned on the light and quickly walked over to me.  She’d been crying.  “Are you all right?” she asked.

            “Oww. Yeah.  My face broke my fall.”

            She helped me up.

            “You still haven’t answered my question” she said. 

            I sighed and looked at her.  Her eyes were angry- beyond hurt. 

            “We shared something special.  I miss that.  I miss you” I said, staring down at my feet.  I couldn’t bear to look at her.

            “You made your decision” she said evenly.

            “No- you made it for me.  By staying with Rich!”

            “You knew that I wasn’t leaving Rich!  You said you understood that!” tears started flowing again.

            “I know- it’s just… I… I just developed some feelings for you and…”

            “Don’t tell me you fell in love with me” she said sarcastically.

            Now’s your chance: tell her how her smile makes the air sing.  Tell her how you live to hear her voice.  Tell her how you long to hold her again, and never let go.  Tell her yes, you love her, and you always have.

          

          “No.  No.  Of course not.”

 

            We looked at each other across the wide distance that had grown between us.  We were physically only a couple of feet apart, but I never felt further away from her. 

            “What about Virginia?” she asked.  The tears flowed freely, and her voice trembled, ever so slightly.  “You chose her.”

            “No- she chose me.”  I wanted to hold Judy, to cry with her.  Instead, I just said something really stupid.

            “If I leave her, could we…”

            Judy’s eyes darkened.

            “I’m sorry” I said quietly. 

            I opened the door, and started down the stairs.  Judy stood in the doorway, framed by light. 

            “Good night” she said.

           

            “Yeah.  You too” I replied, looking back at her.

            I felt hollow.

            I walked back to the house, then past it.  The Lion rumbled, awakening from its summer slumber.  Students were returning, and that meant parties.  People meeting people, and having fun. 

            I walked up the hill, across campus.

            The Lion was waiting, as always.  Crouched on its rock.  I sat on the back part of the rock, away from the lights which continuously shone upon it. 

            The stone was cool in the hot late summer night. 

            Solid.

            And I was hollow.

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Delia's Writing Challenger #3: Text

I was sent another writing challenge, this time by the incredible Delia.  I procrastinated.  Oops.

So here it is, Delia.  Top billing.  639 words.

Topic:  500 words: you accidentally text someone something revealing, who is it? What did you write? What were the repercussions?

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It was another day after work.  Retail sucks, but I needed to pay the bills while going for my Master’s degree.  I spilled my soda down my dress walking to my night class and cursed myself as I blotted it up.  All over my left breast and skirt.  Great.  I found the classroom, and was waiting for class to begin when I received a text from my friend Charlotte. 

When you first went on HRT, were you scared?  Did it affect your penis?

My coworkers didn’t know it, but I’m transgender.  I was born with a male body.  I transitioned to female five years ago, having facial surgery and “bottom” surgery as well.  It was my secret- I didn’t want to be judged as a transwoman- just as a woman.  I scrubbed my online life the best I could, and moved to a different state.  

No one knew me here.  I was safe.  

Makeup and photo by Amanda Richards

In any case, I quietly mentored other women beginning their transitions.  Charlotte was one of them- she was 20, slim, and scared.  HRT is Hormone Replacement Therapy- where one takes hormones to block testosterone and also feminize the body.

I turned off my phone as class began.

At a break, I turned my phone on again, but I didn’t realize that another text arrived.  This one was from a coworker, asking about swapping shifts.  I read it, turned off my phone again, and forgot about it.  I didn’t really like the guy: Greg.  He was a misogynistic jerk.

After class, I walked to my car.  My dress felt cold where I’d tried to clean the spill during breaks.  I turned on my phone, and typed my response to Charlotte.  I usually respond to her quickly.

HRT is a scary step.  Once the changes start, there is now going back.  Yes, estrogen will make your penis shrink, possibly significantly.  It will also render you sterile, so if you want children, get some sperm frozen.  My penis lost over half its size from HRT, which didn’t help GCS.  (GCS is Gender Confirmation Surgery- “the Operation.”)

I sent it, and forgot about it. 

An hour later, I received another text from Charlotte. 

Hello?  Was my question too personal?  No answer?

I thought “wait, I DID answer” and checked my phone. 

I’d sent the text to Greg. 

Oh shit!

By then, it was past 11 pm, and there was nothing I could do.  What was done was done.

I arrived at work the next morning for an “opening” shift on “Customer Service.”  Greg was scheduled for 11 AM, so I had two hours before he arrived.  I was very nervous.  Would he tell others?  Would he think the text was a joke? 

At 10 AM, another coworker, Bob, arrived and clocked in.  He worked in another department, and we were cordial.  He didn’t speak to me- didn’t even look at me as he passed.  Normally he’d say “hello” or something.

Did he know?

At 11, Greg arrived and punched in.  He looked at me very intensely.  I said hello, as I always did.  He replied “what was with that text you sent last night?” 

All morning I’d thought of different possible answers to that inevitable question.  I decided that I’d be honest- otherwise lies would compound on lies, and I hated lies.

“That was meant for someone I’m mentoring.  I’m transgender, and I’d appreciate if you’d keep that to yourself.”

His face twisted into disgust for a flash before he caught himself.  “Well, a bit late for that,” he said and walked away.

I felt my heart sink.  It was like I’d learned of a death in the family- but that death was me.  My secret was out- there was no way to change it. 

No one would ever see me the same way again. 

I never felt so helpless.

Trans Books that Changed My Life

One of the people in my support group started this topic.  Most of the people chimed in quickly, but I held off.  Frankly I was too busy to write anything, but also because I wanted to narrow my field.

Most people chose the same books:  She's Not There, My Husband Betty, Whipping Girl, Wrapped in Blue...

I chose a couple of those, but not all.  My reasons are my own.

What follows is what I sent to the group, lightly edited for people's anonymity and to keep certain things private.

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I've given this a LOT of thought.  As a former English teacher (and current book store drone) I obviously read many many books.  But changed my life?  Well, some of them, weren't GD related when you first think about them.

She's Not There by Jennifer Finney Boylan

This book needs no introduction as most of you have read it.  Jenny states in Stuck in the Middle With You that she realizes that her transition was very unusual, as everything broke her way.  It was one of the first books I read on the topic BY a transwoman.  And still one of the best.  I have had the pleasure of discussing this book with JFB, and reviewing it in this blog.  I've sold MANY copies of this book at the bookstore by recommending it.

Wrapped in Blue by Donna Rose

Another early TG read.  Donna's story is so inspirational.  She endured horrific pain, and came through it stronger.  I met Donna some years ago (she is my "big sister" Mel's "big sister") and many times since.  I am proud to call her friend.  Her conversational, candid writing style is a great influence on my blog.  She is still one of my heroines.  

On The Road by Jack Kerouac

Not a TG book by any stretch of the imagination.  But it was the first "non-traditional" book I read.  It opened my mind to the possibilities of the written word- of the sentence as music.  And, most importantly, that life is about the Journey.  We are all on this journey, with its unexpected twists and turns.  And the journey will continue long after I am gone for so many.  But I will try to make that road easier for others.  Another point I took from this book is that it's OK to be different.  And I was different...

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

Another non-TG book, and another non-traditional book.  This book is the single biggest influence on my writing style, and in many ways, my way of looking at things.  Sometimes one must see the absurd and call it for what it is.  Take risks.  Write honestly- even if you have to use metaphor to cushion the blow of the Truth, but always write that Truth.  No matter what the consequences to oneself.  It took me many years to accept my Truth after hiding it for so long.  I'd forgotten that one key lesson.  Always be honest with yourself.

Trans sister Radio by Chris Bohjalian

A TG book by a major cisgender author.  I was planning my transition when I was recommended this book.  It's a bit dated, but the truth it contains is still valid:  not everyone accepts us... but we must accept ourselves.  

I am Not Myself these Days by Josh Kilmer Purcell

A memoir about an advertising executive by day and drag queen by night.  I read this before that fateful Halloween 2008 when I rediscovered myself, but the cracks were beginning to show.  I was ashamed to be seen reading the book, because I felt someone would guess my secret.  In this book, I discovered an underground world so vastly different than my own, populated by strange and wonderful people who were living far more genuinely than I was.  At the end of the book, there are crossdressing tips that I followed when getting ready for Halloween 2008.  I have met JKP several times, and we periodically message each other on Facialbook.  He offers constructive criticism of my writing.  He was another example of living one's life openly and truthfully.  I've sold MANY copies of this book at the bookstore by recommending it.

You may have noticed a common thread in these books.  That's the point I think.  In the end, despite all the pain, I am living honestly.  Books can teach us a great many things, as long as our mind is open to hearing what they say, and learning.

Be Well

What to Ask, and What not to Ask

I am participating in Trans*forming the Dialogue, Simmons College’s Online MSW Program’s campaign to promote an educational conversation about the transgender community. By participating in this campaign, I will be offering my perspective on what TO ask and what NOT to ask trans*people. 

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As veteran readers of this blog know, I do answer reader questions and requests for topics from time to time.  I received an email from Simmons College, a private all women's college in Boston, MA.  They informed me that they are "the third US women’s college to accept students who identify as transgender." And they asked me to discuss the above point. They even provided a Nifty logo!

I think I've covered this ground before, but it's good to re-visit it. I can never do as well as Calpurnia Addams did on this, but here goes. After all, one of the purposes of this blog is Education. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Your mileage may vary. Read the prospectus before investing. Void where prohibited.


The first question is one I have heard a lot. "So does this mean you like guys or girls?"  

Well, I am starting with this because this covers a LOT of ground. It's pretty simple- would you ask this question of any other woman that you meet? Say, the person ahead of you in line at the grocery store? Unless you're colossally socially inept or five years old, you wouldn't.  All of these sort of questions come down to one thing- It's none of your fudging business. Only I don't say "fudge."

The really disappointing people who have asked this are the people who have known me for years, and know that I am married.

Folks, it's like this: Gender Identity and Gender preference are two different things: apples and oranges. Gender Preference is who you wish to go to bed/ have a relationship/ whatever with, and Gender Identity is who you ARE.

Pretty simple right? They are independent of each other. Always. Girls like boys; boys like girls. Some boys like boys; some girls like girls; vice versa, etc. Being trans has nothing to do with that. As if it's anyone's business. Ibid.

The second question I get a lot isn't as egregious, but it's common and invasive. "Are you going to get the surgery?"

I understand you wanting to know more about the TG condition. However, my medical history is no one's business but mine, my doctor, and my Wife. Do I ask you about your medical history? Tell me about your hysterectomy. How about that nose job?

Some TG people will answer this question. Depending upon the person, I will too. After all, it's all about education. But think about it- unless you're a medical professional, would you ask a stranger about their medical history or intentions? You wouldn't.

Then there's the rudest one. "What will it look like down there when it's all done?"

Yes, I've been asked this. That's like me asking a man about how many times he couldn't get it up or asking a random woman on the street about her menstrual cycle. Ask this one to a trans-person and all bets are off. That's slap worthy. That's defriending time. That's just plain rude. And again, none of your fudging business. I usually reply with something very pointed, like "why are you hung like a light switch?'

Yes folks, it's just common sense.

Photo by Cassandra Storm

Now for the second part, which is a bit nicer. Things to ask a trans-person.

What would you prefer to be called?

Him, her, whatever. Bruce Jenner said to call him "him" until otherwise informed. Fair enough. I am she/her. I am female.

"How can I help?"

Really, transition is brutal. I have said/ written/ used semaphore flags many times saying that if you don't HAVE to do it: DON'T. It's nice to have someone extend their hand and ask this. Often, the answer will be a polite "no" but it's always nice to ask. And it's ALWAYS appreciated.

"Tell me your story."

Not really a question, but a prompt. And a good one. But don't ask if you're not going to listen. By telling our stories, we become Real to people. We are no longer these strange societal outcasts. As Professor Jennifer Finney Boylan has written (and attributed to her mother) "You can't hate someone whose story you know." And the New York Times agrees- they're publishing trans-people's stories (I submitted mine but to date have not been published.) But a few friends of mine have been published. And all the stories are worth a read. All people have stories. All are worth hearing. That's part of being Human.


I could go on with these questions for a while, but those, to me are the Big ones. If you wish, submit your questions you Love/Hate in the comments here. And as always, if you have questions for me, you can either ask me here or at my email sophie1lynne@yahoo.com. Maybe your question will be a blog entry! (With you receiving full credit of course!)

Thank you to Simmons College for supporting the Trans community, and for this opportunity.

Be Well,

Beware the Ides of March

Caesar:
Who is it in the press that calls on me?
I hear a tongue shriller than all the music
Cry "Caesar!" Speak, Caesar is turn'd to hear.

Soothsayer:
Beware the ides of March.

Caesar:
What man is that?

Brutus:
A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

Julius Caesar Act 1, scene 2, 15–19

It's Sunday, March 15, 2015.  I was going to write about putting my foot in my mouth but decided instead to throw around some random thoughts.

Last Thursday was the annual physical inventory at the Bookstore.  The night began with a toddler dropping her pull ups and urinating on the floor.  The night did not improve from there.  Like many retail locations, we use RGIS to do our inventory.  The hierarchy in RGIS is that the counters (we had maybe 30) all wear red shirts.  The supervisors wear gray shirts.  We had 4 gray shirts.  Above that are suits.  We usually have a suit, but not this time.  No, this time we had a woman with cherry red hair (which looked pretty cool) in charge.  And three times she called me "Sir."  Now I was wearing a form fitting top, showing off the Girls to full effect.  Y'know- major feminine cue.  But she seemed to ignore that.  To say I was angry is putting it mildly.  I kept it together, and quietly corrected her each time.  Had there been another time, I may have been a little more... oh I don't know... forceful?  Maybe I should've flashed her.

Sir????

This week is the 2015 Keystone conference.  This time I'll remember to keep notes.  As usual, I'll have my article about it on TG Forum.  Once again, I'll be presenting a seminar.  This time I will be presenting after lunch!  2 PM Thursday March 19.  So if you're going to be there, I'd love to see you. I'll be rooming with my co-conspirators, the stunning Linda Lewis and amazingly gorgeous Ally Raymond (names familiar to long time readers.)

With Ally and Linda, 2014

 I can't wait to see old friends there.  So many people who I haven't seen in forever- many since last year.  I love seeing how we all grow from year to year.  I remember going for my first time and how scared I was.  This was a HUGE deal- being myself for several days in a row!  Now I'm a completely different person.

My first Keystone, 2009.  I still have that dress

Each year, I meet more people.  Last year for example I met the amazing Julie, who lives in central PA, and is a fellow paramedic.  She has since become a dear friend.  Who will I meet this year?  Who knows?

Linda Lewis, Julie, some fat chick

The future holds so much promise.  The Undiscovered Country and all that.  Keystone is an event I don't "Need" any more as I did.  I am full time.  But seeing so many wonderful people living their dreams is draw enough.  What will this year hold?  Well, I'll find out this week.  And you'll find out soon after, because as always, I'll write about it.

Keystone 2011

On a different note, The Phillies have started spring training.  Our ace pitcher Cole Hamels has said he wants to be traded to a winner.  Most of the team's stars are old and broken.  It's going to be a long season.  But I'll still be rooting on my fightin' Phils.  Just wish they stood a chance.

At the Phillies with the Beautiful Victoria.  2012

That's really all I have for now dear readers.  I hope you have a wonderful week.  I certainly will try.  After all, that's all I can do...

Be well.

Questions Cis People Ask

Ok, all of these are actual questions I've received, mostly by private messages on Facialbook.  Some were asked in person.

I've saved them all for times like this when the topic I want to write about would be too incendiary (GOP bathroom bills popping up everywhere) so I need to re-write it in such a way that has no foul language or direct accusations as to the penis sizes of GOP politicians (because all but one are men.)  Or at least a lot less.

So.  The actual questions are in italics, and are direct quotes.  My answers here may or may not have been the answer they received at that time.

Remember, you can always send me questions to me at sophie1lynne@yahoo.com.  Usually I answer just on email, but if the question stirs me or is particularly thought provoking, I may ask permission to use it here, giving you all the credit you want!

At Work, March 2015

So why did you destroy your daughter's life just to wear a dress?  (This from a twice divorced father of 3, all by different women.)

This is a two part answer.  First off, I didn't destroy her life, even though sometimes I wonder.  Many children have to endure divorces, and, while we are not yet divorcing, Wife and I do live apart.  Wife has made it clear she wants me very involved in my daughter's life, and I want to take a very active hand in her upbringing.  I tell her how much I love her every time I see her.  Compare this to parents who use their children as weapons in a divorce.  

Part 2 is that I didn't do this "just to wear a dress."  While I love wearing dresses, I don't do so very often.  Being TG goes FAR deeper than that.  Which leads to the next question...

Why not just man up and live with the so called pain?  (from a tea-bagger)

I tolerated the pain for 47 years before finally breaking free from it.  I can't describe how badly it hurts.  Then multiply that pain by all those years hiding it, and all the anger and frustration.  Actually, a friend of mine posted the following on Facialbook today, and it fits perfectly.

Now let's take that full glass of water and hold it straight out for YEARS, and when someone asks about the glass, you vehemently deny it even exists... perhaps (as in my case) even to yourself.  And you don't dare spill even a drop, lest someone guess that you are indeed holding that glass of water.

That's an overly simplistic explanation, but there it is.

So what's it like having [breasts]?  (drinking buddy of many years)

Well, it's like this.  Most of the time I don't feel them.  They're just there... kind of of like the penis most of the time.  I wear good support bras so they don't bounce so much, so there it is.  Now, that said, when I DO feel them... well, grab your bicep (unflexed).  That's how it feels- just a mass of tissue, except they hang on my chest and my arms occasionally bump into them.  Are they sensitive?  Well the difference in sensation between the male chest and the female breast... it's like a whisper to a Scream.  It's amazing how different how it feels.  I love my boobs.

Can I touch them?  (same drinking buddy)

Hell no.  Grow your own.

Can I touch them?  (inebriated female friend)

Can I touch yours?  No?  Ok then.

Are you and Linda Lewis dating?  (several people have asked this)

Linda on a road trip to Richmond

No.  I am married.  Linda and I are very close, as we are roomies.  She is, aside from my wife, my best friend and co-conspirator.  We learn a lot from each other.  She's an amazing person and I thank God for her friendship.

Are you dating [fill in the blank]?  (I get this one a lot)

As I said, I'm married.  And I'm fairly sure that after the marriage ends, I'll be alone the rest of my life.  Sucks, but that's the way it is.


Are you still suicidal?  (Occasionally I get this)

No.  Ok, I admit I think of it sometimes, but I think about my Daughter... and I think about the wreckage Lisa Empanada left behind when she killed herself... no I couldn't do that to my loved ones- especially my daughter.  You're stuck with me.


Why do you post so much about politics?  (usually asked by right wingers, but not always)

If I don't speak out against EVIL, who will?  I see the current GOP as Evil.  All they do is hate everyone that isn't a white WASP male.  And they are doing their best to hurt me and mine.  I have yet to be proven wrong on this, but wish I could be.


Are you going to post more fiction on Fictionmania or other story sites?  (a couple of people)

Yes.  I'm working on something now.


What does your Wife think about all this?  (many old friends)

She has been as supportive as she can be, but she hates it, and I don't blame her.  She's been far more understanding than I could dream of.  To those who know her personally, I encourage them to contact her as she can speak for herself.  Eloquently.  She's an amazing woman, which is why I married her.  She definitely didn't deserve all this.

Will you be at Keystone 2015?  (Lots of people, mostly local trans people)

Yes, and I will be presenting again.  My presentation will be Thursday at 2 PM.  My topic is Writing TG Topics as Therapy, and the brief goes like this:  "Can writing really be a release? Find out in this fun, cooperative seminar with published author Sophie Lynne! Together we will learn about simple writing tools that can unleash your emotions and help you express them on paper."

You never know who will be at this seminar!  Several of the people I write about in this Blog attend, as do some of my Vanity Club sisters, and hopefully YOU!  Always room for more!  

Keystone 2014

Will I be able to talk to you at Keystone?  (believe it or not, I get this question)

Yes, for a fee.  Just kidding.  I am just a chick with a blog- I'm no one special.  If you want to say hi or sit down and talk, I'd love to see you!  Especially if you're buying!  (hee hee)


Ok that's it for this edition of Q&A with Sophie.  I'll do it again someday.  Hope to see you at Keystone, and maybe I'll edit the other entry to make it less vitriolic.  Or maybe I won't.


Be well.