The Eyes Dont Have it!

Maybe all the time and effort I've been putting into my eyes is  mistake?
Read this "Frisky" article and you may start focusing on your lips instead!
I've got to get out tomorrow and purchase some "Heatwave" lipstick!

Soul Sisters?

I'm applying this definition to a whole different set of sisters we normally never discuss. I'm referring to butch lesbians.
I met a person who is right on the cusp of being a ftm trans and a butch lesbian (his term). He sent me an article he wrote on the subject, but I don't want to betray the trust. Until I get permission, here are some of the absolute highlights.
To begin with he points out the pain a "butch" feels growing up. There is no hiding, no real closet to dive into as most of us have.  The femme lesbian has the advantage of dissolving into society or going "stealth" in our terminology. Looking back in my life, I had a close girlfriend (genetic) who had a butch sister.  The family forced her into a dress a couple times. I felt her pain of wearing the clothes of a gender she obviously didn't feel comfortable with. I see her every once in a while.Nothing has changed with him.
How ironic that this group could have a kinship with us?
Over the years I've interacted with "butches" to varying degrees. As "guy to guy" the interaction was very smooth normally. As "girl" to guy (them), the time was most interesting. One of my earliest posts describes a "karaoke" experience I had with a "butch" in a cowboy hat in a lesbian bar.
Two overriding ideas emerged from past experience and my new friend. Number one, I didn't realize how trans they are. In fact the butch lesbian is the most visible form of a transgendered person today. Most don't pass you know who they are.
Number two, I didn't realize how possessive they are. In some ways, the butch is a throw back to a male stereotype of the past. Which is not a surprise.
How many of us would jump at the chance to be the submissive female? The butch sits directly on the other side of that fence.
I'm fascinated by this whole segment of our rainbow and with his permission, I will bring you more

Disaster Averted!

This adventure is actually part two of the last post and is another "bra" story. 
I guess I had this one coming. I wrote about the success of removing my bra without taking my top off. Along the way, I also mentioned the diminishing  feel of a fetish experience being replaced by the overall feel of being a girl. Which of course includes the bra. It has become  piece of clothing to make me look better. Not feel better...until last night.
It just so happened that one of  my bra straps gave it up and broke.  The good news was I was fairly close to the bathroom. With my breast form cradled in my arm and pushed against my body I made it to a stall for repairs.
Dammit! Where the heck is that safety pin I kept telling myself to put in my purse. The same place as the tampon and pad...in my other purse. This girl thing is tough!
Somehow I had to fix this problem.  Become a trans "McGuyver"? If you didn't know, he was the best at making complicated devices out of simple objects. Fortunately, the strap was somewhat fixable by taking the broken snap and  hooking it back to another spot.
I was able to get back to my seat, finish my drink, put my coat on and leave.
As I said, I had it coming.  Blah, blah blah!