Happy Birthday?

Summer is gone, and the clammy fall has begun here in southeast Pennsylvania. We’ve had a lot of natural news around here, starting with an earthquake, then with hurricanes, tornados, then we had rain and rain and rain so we had flooding. On one day, you couldn’t get into Philly from the rest of Pennsylvania due to flooding, mudslides, and downed trees.


But at least the Phillies are in the playoffs!

How’s that for a non-sequitor?

So- disasters. Why do I bring them up? Was my outfit last time out THAT bad? Was my birthday such a horrible experience?

Well, here’s the outfit. You be the judge.

Purple Sophie Rides Again!

As for my birthday, it was as fun as it could be. I am of the opinion that birthdays cease to matter after #21. Let’s face it- 30, 40 and the other round numbers are really just occasions for others to make fun of you. (“You’re FORTY?? HA! You’re old!”) Then eventually you’re X years YOUNG.

So I had a birthday a couple weeks back. Biological birthday. My Sophie birthday is Halloween. I’ve been a “woman of a certain age” for a while now. This one was just a little different. Assuming statistics are correct, and I am average in all ways, half of my life is now behind me. I am middle aged.

So is wearing a skirt my version of the mid-life crisis red sports car?

Do I look middle aged to you?

At my age, testosterone levels naturally go down. Add to that, they ALSO go down when you become a father. So I guess low testosterone is to blame for my putting on a bra and lipstick? Perhaps I won’t need T-blockers when my time for hormones comes? Would my tired old equipment thank me for the retirement of an orchiectomy? And can I get them to take out my prostate while they’re in there as a peace of mind sort of thing? After all, I won’t need it after that procedure anyway, right?

I actually celebrated my birthday three times this year. The first time was with co-workers and friends at a local restaurant/bar. A few of my t-friends were invited but only one came, and she came in drab. Probably safer for everyone I guess.

The second time was with my wife. We went out to dinner at a nice place. While there, I took an empty table, and, for Photoshop practice, populated it with several versions of Sophie.

Sophie times Seven!

The third time was kinda just me. The weekend after my birthday was a Laptop lounge. But before I could celebrate, I had to run a gauntlet.

On my way into Laptop from the parking lot (Blue Pacific is in a mall, but with outside access), I had to pass two parked school buses. The busses were full of teens of indeterminate age. They saw me, and the windows slid down and I heard it all:

“WooHoo! Look at you!” “Hey dude! Are you gay?” “Nice tits!”

And all the usual taunts. And laughter. A year ago, that would’ve sent me scurrying back to the car, crushed. But I had grown a lot this past year. I looked at the busses, kissed my hand and slapped that hand to my well padded ass: The universal symbol for “kiss my ass.” I then threw my shoulders back, held my head high, and walked into Blue Pacific proudly. I wasn’t the only one who encountered these wonderful people, who were probably a church group.

Inside, I quietly celebrated as Sophie. I silently rose a glass to my t-friends as it wasn’t Sophie’s birthday (if that makes sense.) I quietly thanked them for being there for me, and for being themselves. And I pondered what this next year would bring for me.

The future isn't clear.  Nor is this picture!

Would this be the year when my wife finally discovered my secret? Or would I find a big girl job and finally move forward to being truly me? Or would it all come crashing down in a perfect storm of homelessness, unemployment, debt and disaster? All the same questions I asked last year.

This year I accomplished the following: I started laser on my face (which is going well, thanks for asking); I expanded my wardrobe options; I attended Trans-health; I presented at the Keystone Conference; and I continued writing for TG Forum and this lil blog. So while I’m not on hormones, nor am I full time, I still made progress as Sophie.

I guess that’s all I can ask for. And a new handbag. Or some diamond earrings. I’m not hard to please. ;)

Trivial things

Here’s a Larry King-esque list of facts about me. (and if you don’t care, why are you reading?) ;)


My original femme name was Lisa Anne. (I’m not counting Lois Lane, which was my Halloween costume that fateful Halloween night.) Under that name, I set up my Yahoo account, which is why my Yahoo addy still has that name. As my flickr is set up under that email, I haven’t bothered to change it.

I changed my name in December of 2008. I went to Femme Fever for my first ever makeover and photo session. Karen asked about my name, and I said it was open to discussion. She looked at me (I was blonde and dressed in a red dress) and said “You should be Sophie. I have a strong feeling about this. You are Sophie.” I never ignore strong feelings. I have been Sophie ever since. I added Lynne because I like the sound of it.

Picture from my first session

My first night at Renaissance was December 2008 as well. I didn’t wear makeup. I felt like a fool. At Laptop lounge after, I wasn’t aware there was a cover. Jone payed it for me. I have bought her many drinks since.

My first time as Sophie in a “non-safe” place was at a rest stop in New York State in 2010. My friend Jen stopped and dragged me in. It was a rest stop/mall. I was nervous as hell!

Me at that rest stop

My first night out as a woman (Halloween 2008), my breasts were birdseed in cut pantyhose. I learned this trick from the internet. I have become a bit better at doing breasts.

Showing off

I had a MySpace page for quite some time as Sophie, but have since cancelled it. I wasn’t using it and I didn’t need it out there waiting to bite me.

I always dreamed of going to a casino and sitting at the tables as Sophie. I’ve been to a small casino twice as part of the Keystone conference, but haven’t played. Vegas, baby! Someday…

At the Casino

Ok, all that is just wonderful. But again- who cares? Well, it’s the little trivia that makes experiences. Moments and experiences build to make up a life. And it’s this life that I write about here in an effort to understand it all. Oh and so you can follow along at home. “Sophie Lynne: the Home game”

We all have the little things that make up our lives. Small dreams, big dreams, and just desires. Some of us dream of finding jobs. Others desire to return to a life of normalcy, albeit in their chosen gender. Many just want to be ourselves. Others want a Porsche. Everyone has their dreams. Many who read this blog share a dream in common and in a way that makes us a family.

Or at least distant cousins? 

And that's not trivial!

Hope

The two people who beat Chrissy Polis in a Baltimore McDonalds have now both pleaded guilty. The older one pleaded guilty to a hate crime as well.


http://www.wbaltv.com/r/28762448/detail.html

So- Justice will be done. She has yet to be sentenced, but, as the man said “all good things in all good time.”



That man- Jerry Garcia, has been dead now these sixteen years. In San Francisco, they celebrate the dates between his birth in death (August 1 and August 9, respectively) as the “Days Between.” The city celebrates a musician- so great was his impact to them, and to people all over the world. (Jerry played guitar and sang for the Grateful Dead and the Jerry Garcia Band, if you didn’t know. The song I reference is from the JGB song “Run for the Roses.”)  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eN1Z_bAqinI



So what does this have to do with the Baltimore beating?



When the beating happened, so many TG people were outraged, and most not a little scared. After all, we have been beaten and even murdered with alarming frequency. In fact, it seemed to be a fact of life for us. We almost expect it. Trans- Russian roulette. Who will lose this week?



But with that beating, something happened- something that Vernon Hackett surely didn’t intend. (He’s the guy who, instead of helping, videotaped the beating and was the one heard encouraging the women to “beat its ass”) People were outraged- and not just trans-people. They were outraged by the savagery of the beating. This guy brought trans-hate out of page 17 of the newspaper and put it into their living rooms, their dens, or wherever their computers sat.



The video made it real.



Now of course, some people just saw it as another episode of Extreme Fighting, and others saw it as “some pervert getting his just desserts” but many- enough- saw it for what it was.



Hate.



And they rallied. And they listened. They brought us hope.



Hope.



Which is what Jerry brought many people as well. He sang songs of the downtrodden and of redemption (also sang songs of drugs and other things too, but stay on point.) He sang of hope, and for many people he was all we had. For many years, he was like a comforting friend to me. Yes, I know he sang words that others wrote, but he co-wrote most of the songs. The idea that he was out there, somewhere, singing, brought me comfort. Then he was gone. “Nothing’s gonna bring him back.”



But I still have his music, and that helped.



The night I first went out dressed, I played Grateful Dead cds in my car. The music helped steady my nerves as I prepared to leave my car while in a skirt, knowing deep down that I was crossing a line that couldn’t be undone. And on my way for my first makeover, it was the Grateful Dead that played to give me courage- the courage to continue this path. And many times since, even now that I have more confidence as a woman, I still listen to the music to give me Hope. Hope that I will be who I am destined to be, whoever that is.



The people who assaulted Chrissy Polis are paying for their crimes. Perhaps something good will come of this. Perhaps something already has. Maybe enough eyes have been opened that someday we can be who we were born to be without worrying about our safety. You know: life, liberty and pursuit of happiness and all that.



There’s always hope.



And for many of us, when hope seems lost, we have the music.

Just a Good Night

Some nights are just good nights. A friend came out as a woman at work Monday. Her HR department was fully behind her and announced the change at a meeting. She will report to work as woman for good on November 1. Until then, she will “morph.” She wrote about it beautifully on facebook. (Excerpted with her kind permission, unedited except to delete her name)


Tomorrow at 10 a.m., my boss will enter a room filled with my closest co-workers. They will be there for our bi-weekly meeting to discuss the business, administrative issues and technical problems that have arisen in the last two weeks. People will be gently sipping their coffee, eating a fresh-baked pastry, and expecting another boring hour wasted of their work day. My boss will start up his computer, dial-in to our conference code and make sure everyone is ready to begin. He will then stand, face all the people who do not know that the next words out of his mouth will send them along for a ride on a journey I started those many months ago with a step out of my home:






“I have a administrative/personnel announcement I would like to make..."






Then my boss will continue that over the past 20 months, I have been undergoing a gender transition and that at the completion of a 90 day period, I will start work full-time as *****. He will tell everyone that I wanted to do this discreetly as to not interrupt the business, and I wanted t make this transition as smooth as possibly. He will end his part by saying that I have his support as well as the support of the company, and will announce a Q&A session in two weeks attended by senior leadership, which everyone will be expected to attend. He will then hand the floor over to the HR representative who will finish up with a policy review and end that part of the meeting. Then my boss will quietly move on to the next order of business and that will be that...






...and from that point on, I will not be able to EVER take it back.



The Dream: reaching milestones. Becoming Yourself. And, of course, that night: Celebration. Her good friends, mentors, and allies gathered to celebrate this day and this person (whom I will call A). The location was an upscale bar called Redstone in Plymouth Meeting, near where she works. http://www.redstonegrill.com/



I was invited, and I was not going to miss it no matter what.



So that day was a big one for me as well. I started a new part time job (that’s two pt jobs if you’re counting along at home) at a nearby University. This job may someday be full time if we ever get rid of the GOP governor who cut the university’s money in half (literally.) So, my day looked like this: up at 5:30, work 7-2:30 at one job, and 3-7 at the new job. Then do Warp 8 for twenty minutes to the bar for the party.



So I arrived, in drab, and find them on the patio on a beautiful summer night. I know many of the people there, including *crash of thunder* HER. The bitch who publically threatened me on Halloween.

People who’ve been reading a while will remember this story. Summary: Person (we’ll call her B) was very angry toward me all night at a party. I had no idea why. Near the end of the night, she threatened me loudly and publically. I didn’t back down, but awaited her move. Full story is here: http://sophielynne1.blogspot.com/2010/11/originally-posted-nov-1-10-what-night.html



She really angered me that night and set off a lot of soul searching. I hadn’t seen her since that night. And there she was. Sitting at a table drinking white zin. I didn’t expect her to be there as she and A were very much on the outs, and hadn’t spoken in months.



Many thoughts flew through my head. Should I just leave? No, can’t do that- not to my friend A on her day. I decided to ignore B. I was introduced around using my drab name. Many knew me this way. Some didn’t. I bought A a drink, toasted her success, and settled in to conversation.



I just ignored B because that night she couldn’t hurt me. I was in drab, so if she even recognized me and started something, I would at worst end up in a holding tank in pants not a skirt. But I had many friends at this gathering, so I was confident that nothing would get that far even if I wished it.



I noticed B’s drink was all but empty. I decided to have a little fun and perhaps even build a bridge. I went to the bar and ordered a glass of white zin along with a cabernet for me.



I walked past A, who saw the drink and said “Are you sure you want to do that?”



I replied “Life’s too short to hate.”



I delivered the drink. B thanked me and asked if she knew me. I smiled. “Yes. Yes, you do” I said, and walked away.

And so I mingled, chatted and drank for a while longer. Note that by this point I hadn’t eaten since noon and it was past 8. I was hungry and drinking. Usually this is a recipe for total disaster. Sophie+drinks-food= run for cover.

Eventually, B asked again how she knew me. I smiled and said she knew me well enough. A was standing close by when I extended my hand and said “You know me as Sophie. Sophie Lynne.” I smiled slightly.

B looked confused for a moment, then surprised. “Oh my Gosh I would never have known!” (That’s a good thing, I think!) “It’s so good to see you!” she continued. I smiled, thanked her, and went back to the bar to close my one tab.



As the night wore on, people left. Eventually, it was just the three of us: A, B, and Me. We talked about many things, and there were no problems.



Being me, I tried to sort this out. Well, her issue was that I was friends with her girlfriend of the time. They had since(and long ago) broken up. I am STILL friends with that ex-gf. I told the ex-gf about the meeting, and she said “Perhaps she’s grown up a little.”



Perhaps.



That said, the ex’s new partner was there at the gathering as well, and I noticed she didn’t interact with B. Never went near her. So maybe not.



Then there’s my anger with B. It was a potent, real thing. But what I said to A may have been true. Maybe life is too short to hate. Maybe I’VE grown up a little. Maybe being Sophie is making a difference.



After one last drink, toasted to Jerry Garcia’s birthday (which was also that day), I went to the bathroom and those two left. On my way to my car, I saw them talking in the parking lot, under a light.



Then they hugged.



For, A it was a great day. And for me as well.

An example?

A beautiful friend of mine wrote the following to me on Facebook after reading my blog. I share it here with her kind permission, typing unedited.




“I didn't realize that you were struggling so much with all of this as well. when i saw you at keystone, you walked into every room and every situation like you owned it. the confidence i saw in you was absolutely amazing and inspiring and left me hoping that one day i'll feel that confidence too…



…you truly are an amazing person and i understand how you can struggle with going out, especially in or near areas that someone from the other life could see you. its a very challenging thing for me to do yet and no one would recongnize me in either of the areas i work or at home because i'm so rarely there….

(on the next post)
…just be careful. the consequences are high and even higher with a family. if you really do want to take sophie further at some point you do need to talk about it. you may be surprised.”

It’s amazing how others perceive a person. What she saw in me I can’t explain. Well actually maybe I can.

Being Sophie terrifies me. The whole idea that I am a woman liberates me and yet destroys me. All that I was is a lie. All that I denied is the truth. My way of dealing with fear has always been to forge ahead- not to show it. As a paramedic with a rescue squad, I used to run into burning buildings and crawl into wrecked cars. Scared the hell out of me, but I was damned if I was going to show fear.

So I go rushing in where Angels fear to tread (as Pope would have it.) I feel it’s the only way I’ll quell the fear. If I’m going to be Sophie for the rest of my life, I can’t be afraid to walk in a mall for example. Or a restaurant.

So I read what she sent me, and my heart warmed and broke at the same time. Someone saw me as an inspiration. Me: The insecure guy in a dress. Someone saw more- saw an example. And by discussing my fear- showing it- I let her down. I guess it’s the child in me, craving acceptance from everyone, but I hate letting a friend down.

Me. An example.

I was out last Saturday night for my usual third weekend activities. I went to the Renaissance meeting and to Angela’s Laptop Lounge. But before that, I went to dinner with some friends. I was late- the last to arrive and I walked into the place alone. Me, dressed in a skirt and made up, walked into a restaurant alone. It took me an eternity, maybe 15 seconds to fins my friends in the back corner, but then I smiled and walked over to them, doing my best feminine stride. I was scared, but not as much as I would’ve been last year at this time; which means I actually did it instead of finding an excuse not to go.

Saturday's Outfit

I’m growing as a woman. I am doing more things and conquering my fear. Is this the example she sees? I mean, what she saw at Keystone was often me after many drinks: Liquid Courage. That said, I was among many like minded people- friends and other TGs. Last Saturday, I was among people who gave me strange looks as my skirt flowed around my legs and I felt my bra bouncing as I walked. It will not be the last time I am out and about dressed among “normals.” Someday it may even be my life. This life has been assisted by others who I have looked to as my examples, from whom I have drawn courage.

So my friend, if I am your example, your are welcome to draw all the courage you can from me. We will walk and grow together.

Hits and views

I do something very, very stupid and I do it a lot. 

As those who read this blog know, I hide my female side from my wife and pretty much my whole male world.  That's called "stealth" I guess.   I try to make many pains to make sure my Sophie things are well hidden and that I have cover stories, etc.

So what do I do?

When I'm out I take tons of pictures.  Even worse- I POST these pictures here, and on flickr, and Pink Essence, etc.

Devil with a blue dress on

Not exactly smart, right?  I am creating an electronic trail that leads directly to my cleavage. 

Now, I know that someone who sees these pics wouldn't identify me even if they know me.  I really look different as Sophie.  (And thats the point isn't it?)  But still not only do I tempt fate...

I am upset if people AREN'T looking!

The chart above is from Flickr, and is literally from the second before I typed the last sentence.  On flickr, I have 1,322 pictures on 74 pages going back to December 3, 2008.  I average 1000 views a day.  That's 1000 people looking at my pictures a day.  And if I get below 1000, I feel a little upset- like I'm not worth seeing.

Not exactly stealth.  More like screaming "LOOK AT ME!"  So what happens if one of these sites is discovered? Well, I'm sunk. Done. History. So why keep doing it?



Now, many crossdressers, transpeople, etc, love to take pics of themselves.  Obviously I do too.  Why do I do it?  Well, to remind myself of the good times of course, but also to critique my look.  What did I do wrong?  What did I do right?   And I put these on flickr because...

I love the views and comments.  That makes me feel femininely attractive. Beautiful. Hot. 

From Laptop, June 18, 2011

How neurotic can I be?  How shallow? 

But if I'm taking all that time (and spending all that money) to make myself beautiful, I want to feel it.  I feel it when dressed (usually) and I want validation as well. 

I know I'm not the hottest tgurl out there.  I still see a guy in a dress in the mirror (usually.)  But encouraging comments make me feel like I AM on the right track.  That I CAN be attractive. 

And doesn't every girl want that? 

So I keep on going.  I add pics after almost every time I go out.  And someday I will get caught.  And I have no doubt that when I'm caught, it'll be because of my own stupidity. 

But I'll be doing my best to look my best when that happens!  :)

Dinner on a Friday

I do my best to keep commitments.  I especially do my best to go to work when I am scheduled, as I know what it is like working short handed where I work, and I hate the idea of leaving my co-workers in a bind.

Yet last week I was invited to dinner by my "big sis" as Sophie.  As my family was away for the weekend, I could dress/clean up at my place without renting a room.  These opportunities don't come often! 

So it came down to a quandry- do I go to work and miss time as Sophie, or do I call out sick and be myself for a precious few hours.  I contemplated this for a couple days.

However in the end, there was only one real choice.

Can I go to work like this?

I called into work saying my wife's car wouldn't start (and as she was away, I was stranded), and prepped for a night in a skirt.  I wore a coral top and a denim skirt with brown slingbacks.  Silver hoop earrings.  I did my own makeup.

Dinner was wonderful, and after 6 hours it was time to go.  I drove over to the King of Prussia mall, fully intending to go into Fridays there.  However, my nerve left me when i saw the crowd.  I drove home, took pictures, and sadly cleaned up.

Does this outfit work?

The definition of an addiciton is a behavior that one does to the point of causing harm.  Now being Sophie has cost me hours at work.  But is it an addiction to express one's true self?

Come hither?  lol

Proceedings

The past two weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind for my life and especially for my feminine side. And you get to hear all about it! You lucky people!




After a break of more than a month, I was back at Laptop Lounge on May 21. I wore my white floral sundress, but this time without the girls. Last time I wore it, I didn’t see any cleavage so I didn’t see the point. Oops. Well, it was cut low enough that the tops of my breast forms kept making unannounced (and unwelcome) appearances above the neckline. Sigh. The things I do for beauty!

Feeling spring!

 

I went to dinner with eight other girls at Café Wimberle again. They seem to be used to us now. Then the Renaissance meeting, then Laptop. Laptop was quite crowded this time, especially with admirers. I would find out later that someone posted this event on Craig’s List which brought them out to play.

At Cafe Winberie

I mention them because this night would involve one of them. At Laptop, I circle about and say “hi” to many people, but I tend to stick close to the people I know well (usually at the bar.) It makes me feel just a little more secure. While I have had a guy buy me a drink once, I have never had one seriously hit on me. Why would they? I mean, there are so many other girls there who are pretty and FAR more feminine. I’m working on it, but I have a way to go yet.



But that night, there was a new guy- we’ll call him Ice (because he looks like Ice T a bit.) Ice was sitting at a table most of the night, watching it all happen about him. Around midnight, I was walking by and he called to me. Stood up and introduced himself. He said that it seemed I was the Queen bee or something. “Everyone comes over and pays their respects.” Oh puh-leeze! I laughed so hard and told him how wrong he was. He then shared his observations of others in the room.



Ice was fun to talk to, and he was hitting on me! Me??? He was very blunt with what he wanted, which I won’t repeat but I WILL say it wasn’t very feminine.



Wow. My first time being chatted up. Someone found me femininely attractive. He wanted me. I could NOT believe that- I still see a guy in a dress when I look in the mirror (getting better though!) ;) In any case, I went home alone, as it should be.



Last Saturday, June 4 was a big event here in Philly. It was day 3 of the Philadelphia Trans Health Expo. Over 2000 people signed up for the several day event. I could only attend on Saturday. So I hauled myself out of bed, up to Amanda’s for makeup, then down to the city.

My Transhealth look

 

I’ve walked about Philly myself before while dressed, but always at night. Saturday I walked around in broad daylight wearing a skirt. I was scared out of my mind! Once I arrived at the convention center, I was floored by the number of people there! So many! For the most part, I stayed at the Renaissance table. However, as I skipped breakfast, I was quite hungry.



The closest food was across the street at the Reading Terminal Market. RTM is a Philly landmark, and was PACKED. And there I was, little Sophie, walking alone in the throng. I wanted to test myself, but not that much! However, no one even blinked. The people at the one food stand even called me “maam!” Wow!



I stayed several hours at the con, then went back to my motel room in King of Prussia to change, freshen my makeup, and prepare for Laptop. I decided to wear a pink blouse and one of my faves- a gray pencil skirt.

So do you like it?

 

Laptop was not very crowded as there was a big party downtown marking the end of the conference. I arrived an hour early (again- pushing my limits). There were three guys at the corner of the bar near the only open place to order. They looked at me funny, but didn’t say anything. I ordered my drink and heard the one guy (drunk) bragging how he really wants to try absinthe. Like it would make him cool or something. I smiled and said “Absinthe will f*ck you up.”

Drunk replied “Really? How do you know?”

I said “I tried it once and woke up dressed like this!”

The two other guys just about fell out of their seats laughing. One said “You’re ok, no matter how you dress.”



I’m glad he approves, I guess.

Hanging around in the mall

In any case, it was mellow. My big sis Mel was there, and we watched the Phillies lose. I danced a bit. Enjoyed being Sophie. A GG said she loved my skirt. Ice was there, but we didn’t talk until I was leaving. I left around midnight, as it was a long day, went back to the hotel to become drab again, and went home.



Every time I go out lately I make more small steps. Someday soon I want to spend a day out as Sophie, shopping or whatever. Will I have the guts? I will have to! To continue on this path, I need to master many things yet, and being out and about as a woman is one of the most important.



As a woman. Me. Just the thought gives me chills.

 

Until next time! 

Justice or Just Us?

(Caveat- this one gets political)

By now the entire Western world, Eastern world, in between, and Planet 10 by way of the 8th dimension have heard about the fate of Osama Bin Laden (OBL). So shall it be to those that kill over two thousand plus people, unless your name is Bush. By now we have all heard how a Seal team defied the odds and fought their way into a fortress and shot OBL twice in the head.



Then the GOP started wondering out loud if this was “legal.”



Oh please. Don’t get me started- party of torture, concentration camps, and illegal wars. But I stray from the point. OBL and his organization plotted the murder of people for many years. Clinton shot at him with Tomahawks and missed. Bush didn’t care one way or the other. Three years into his administration, President Obama signed the orders that caused OBL’s death. He paid the price. Justice is served.



We know this- it’s been everywhere.



A couple weeks earlier, a trans-woman was beaten in a Baltimore McDonalds for entering a ladies room. The two attackers beat her until she suffered seizures. The staff of the restaurant was so concerned that they recorded it and cheered the attackers. The staff then urged the attackers to get away before they could be arrested. Maybe it matters that the attackers and staff were black and the victim white, but it doesn’t seem so. One of the attackers attacked a black woman a couple weeks previously in that same McDonalds. The guy filming it was eventually fired.



A few weeks later, the Baltimore DA finally charged the attackers with hate crimes. What took so long? Maybe he wanted to see if he would lose votes for supporting the TG community? Who knows? But in any case, the news cycle had already moved on. Everyone was now on the Bin Laden story, then the Trump stupidity, then a Royal wedding, then Newt. The only people following the Baltimore story are maybe Baltimoreans and hopefully the TG community.



And so I finally come to my point (figure I had one, right?). The past month has been historic times. We saw the death of the head of a terrorist network (and the seizure of his computers and papers- think that’ll help us more than torture?). We saw the opposing party attack the president trying to divest him of the credit for ordering this. We saw beginnings and endings. Oh and the rapture didn’t happen. All these things- wow! So what about Chrissy Lee Polis?



Remember her?



The news has passed her by as has an opportunity for us to hammer away for our rights. With the video on our side, public sentiment was rolling at least a little. Rallies. People learning about us as people, not as “freaks.” Some even saying this was our “Stonewall:” A flashpoint after which everything would change- where the TG community may finally move forward to being recognized as people.



Ms. Polis is still in Baltimore. Still living daily with the fallout of that attack. Hell, she hears in the media that her one attacker is "a well-mannered, thoughtful young lady, and I firmly believe that when this case comes to trial, she'll be found not guilty." She would be the one whose mouth put most sailors to shame and who dragged Ms. Polis across the floor by her hair. How thoughtful of her!



The fact is that we are again alone on this. It’s Just Us. And I don’t mean the album by the Monkees. It comes down to not just the activists- the Mara Keisling’s, Chloe Prince’s and Donna Rose’s. It is down to all of us each time that jerk says something, or when someone truly curious WANTS to learn. It’s about education. It always has been. It has to be.



In the end, we are outnumbered by they. They will wave religion at us. They will wave social convention at us. All we have is that this is who we are. We didn’t choose this life, but we represent it. All of us- From the part time crossdresser to the full time transgender to the person still hiding scared in their apartment. And as representatives- as teachers- we can win this. Dr King proved this. Gandhi proved this. We CAN have rights. We CAN live our lives. Because otherwise, any of us could be Chrissy Lee Polis. Or Stacey Blahnik Lee, murdered. Or so many, many others. Not much of a choice is it?

Empireless

What a momentous few weeks this has been!  So much has happened that I'm still sorting it all out in my head.

By now, most of you have heard about the beating that happened in Baltimore.  I will address my thoughts on that, but not now.  I'm still watching and thinking about this- hoping that justice will be done.

Then there is the death of Osama Bin Laden.  Monumental.  Again, I'll talk about it some other time.

These are things that HAVE happened.  I want to write about something that is not happening... for me at least.

This weekend- as I type- is the Empire Conference in Albany, NY.  Last year I attended this conference.  This year I am not.  Last year, I learned a lot, grew a lot, and made wonderful friends.  This year, none of those.  Why not?  Simple.  No money.

Normally, my activities as Sopie are paid in advance by my ebay sales.  My job just doesn't cut it.  However, due to the timing of this conference, I had to spend the money elsewhere- on my wife for our anniversary (20 years together- 18 married).  So that meant no trip up.  And as it turns out, I had a huge car repair last week so I am REALLY broke.

What am I missing?  A chance to grow.  Last year, I went shopping for the first time as Sophie.  I walked down a busy city street on a Thursday night- alone (in my black lbd yet!)  I went into a drugstore and bought things as Sophie.  Of course, there are seminars as well.  Oh, and last year I did my first actual stand up comedy routine in front of an audience. 

I miss my friends who will be there.  I feel like the kid who has been grounded on a Saturday night and all my friends are out at the best party ever.  I will hear the stories, see the pics, etc, but it won't be the same. 

What I miss most is time to be me.  To be Sophie.  A few days as a woman- to sort out all those feelings and thoughts inside me.  I want to be able to move on this when ready- but I know that I won't have the money.  So what do I do? 

What do any of us do?

We wait.  And hope.