Early Morning Thoughts

It's 3 am Eastern Standard Time in the United States of America on the bit of dust we call Earth.
The good thing about being retired is I'm essentially on a 24/7 schedule. The bad thing about being retired is I'm essentially on a 24/7 schedule. Everyone except me is fairly certain I have all the time in the world.
Sometimes I do.
Yesterday I had time to get my hair done, go on a short makeup exploration trip and notice I was well on the way to filling out a nice A cup in the bra I was wearing. And before I forget, fix the damn plumbing in my house which thawed and of course broke. That's feminine, right?

At 3 in the morning, I'm still just me. Sometimes I wonder if that makes me less of a transgender woman? No it doesn't. It only means whom ever strung the wires in my head plugged them in like this.

Curiously I wonder if all of this means I have already gone stealth in my mind. Essentially going stealth in the outside world will happen when get out of my house of 30 some years.  Very simply what it means to my gender status is a total and clean break with the material positions of my past. I have come to the conclusion certain members of the human race will always sniff out my male past. I have also concluded in no way will that matter when I attend my next "Jimmy Buffet" concert next summer.

I tell anyone who cares gender is just a small part of me. Certainly there is so much more my overactive mind than meets the eye. I recently watched a television special on older human beings (older than me even) stagnating mentally. I wonder if I will ever get to a point to when I start to slow down?

All right, I know we are here to discuss transgender "stuff". It's 3 am and I just saw a belly dancer on a crazy late night movie I'm watching and remembered a certain friend of mine's offer to go to dance classes with me. I used to think a move (or moves) like belly dancing would be an impossible idea. From where I'm sitting now the whole idea seems wonderful. I love 3 am!

Magician

When I was a kid, every time my Mom went to get her hair done Dad would say "she went to the repair shop".
I some ways I believe that. Our hair does need a lot of repair at my age! It's hard to believe my first hand experience with a feminine salon was four plus months ago.
I know you are thinking "how the hell do you remember that Cyrsti when you can't remember last week?"
Well, it is easy for my less than agile mind to remember when I did make my first trip to the stylist compliments of a birthday present from my daughter. October 3rd  2012.
Perhaps you noticed the new picture at the top of the blog. It is from this morning. Trip number four to get my hair done.
I have found a new descriptor to add to my Dad's: "A trip to the magician!"

We Got Mail!

This comment actually came from a transgender person who saw my "Slippery Slope" post on another site. I felt it was worth sharing here in Crysti's Condo. Plus I so love to show my mailbox picture!


"Having lived full time for almost 10 years, having all the effects of hormones I'm going to get (not nearly what I hoped for), being stuck with some male attributes (mostly facial) that could never be resolved with the best of surgeons, and accepting that I will always be "read" as born male body, tolerating the cruel things that shitty people often say, I still almost never have those awful thoughts of turning back. I'm still willing to have the SRS at the drop of a hat (sigh, the money issue...), regardless. It's no longer the holy grail in the sense that the world will then accept me as 100% female. My friends do, and that's all that matters. Even in my own mind, I accept myself as a mix of female brain and male brain, though I feel my body belongs in female form. I think what made the difference is having a distinct memory of those days when I despised pretending to be one of the boys, and resenting everything that stood in my way of living as a female. Truth be said, none of us know what it's like to be a " ______". We only know what our *perception* of "male" and "female" or "man" and "woman" is (which is largely molded by the definitions our culture rams down our throat...). Just as we really only know what it's like to be ourselves, and not another person. If being OK with ourselves comes from the endorsement of the world around us, we're on the wrong path. Peace is something one creates from the raw materials within; no exterior force should be responsible for us obtaining it. I know... easier said than done. "

Well said!