What's Next?

Seemingly, the more I think about my past, the more I consider the future. Realistically speaking, most of my life lies behind me and I have written many times here in Cyrsti's Condo concerning my fear of being "cared" for in a nursing home with a very transphobic staff. Hopefully society will continue to inch forward in it's knowledge and support of transgender women and men.

Then quickly my mind returns to thinking about my past experiences I can put in the book. Many are buried deeply in my mind to a point where I can barely remember them.

Currently, I am writing about the very few men in my life including the first one. My meeting with him was brief and happened the night of my first professional make over at one of the transvestite mixers I went to. I guess I could say I had interactions with two guys that night since the make up expert who worked his magic on me was the first. Indirectly leading to the second.

During these mixers, I loosely tagged along with the "A" crowd or as I also called them, "The Mean Girls."  Approximately five or six of them always formed a clique which very few others were ever welcomed into. It turned out on that magical night, not even did I tag along, I crashed the clique.

Perhaps you noticed I said "crashed" and not joined. No matter how popular I became for one night, there was no way I ever wanted to become a permanent part of their exclusive group.

Now, back to the evening.  As I said, the make up expert did a wonderful job on me and even I was amazed. It was my first experience with someone else (who knew what they were doing) doing my makeup.

As I have written about before, the clique of the most attractive cross dressers or transgender women (before there was such a word) went out to party at gay venues after the mixer. Early in the evening I had the usual unremarkable time tagging along. It was later on when I was approached by a guy in the last venue we went to. He asked me to stay and he would by me a drink. Since I was dependent on the clique to get me back to the hotel, I declined.

More importantly though, the clique was dazzled I was approached and none of them were.

Sadly, the next day I had to go back to my usual male boring existence.

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