Dancin' Lessons with Pat!

Some days I think Pat should just write part of Cyrsti's Condo!!!  She is busy though-I see her popping up with comments on many blogs I follow.  Another who I think should write a post every now and then is my partner Liz. Being one of "them there" genetic women, she could add some spice into our lives from the "other half" who were "born with it."

This comment from Pat after a post about a very closeted cross dresser who was simply paranoid about being arrested for just wearing women's clothes.  The CD was about the same age as me and yes-that was a very real problem when we were growing up. Pat took it a step further when she was stopped by a cop and how the whole situation can become very crazy-quickly and she had to put on her "dancin shoes" at home:

I can understand and empathize with your closeted friend. It is scary enough for us part time closeted CDs to go out at all but the idea of an encounter with the police is really something to be avoided. A few years ago I was in a pretty coral lace dress driving home from an LGBT friendly bar where I had consumed several adult beverages when I was pulled over. Sitting in the car this dress rode up my pantyhose clad leg. I did not think that I had been speeding but the cop (young enough to be my son) wrote me a ticket for doing 41 in a 30. Had I been dressed as a guy I likely would have given him a piece of my mind. It is almost more embarassing to be ticketed for doing 41 MPH than for being out in a dress. While he asked me if I had been drinking I told him I only and one or two. I suppose I should be thankful that all I got was a speeding ticket and did not have to blow into the machine.

Of course, I did not mention this event to my wife. As soon as I could I paid the ticket along with what I thought were two surcharges. A few days after I got the ticket I got two letters from local law firms who found my name in the police blotter offering to represent me. Since I already sent in the money I did not need a lawyer but my wife was wondering why I was getting letters from law firms. Two weeks later I got a letter from the local town court sending me a check for $5.00 for overpaying the ticket. My wife wondered why I was getting money back from the town court. That entire incident had me dancing up a storm for about a month.

Of course, I too have been stopped by the police and even assisted a couple times when I needed help with my car-all of which without fail- scared me to death.  But obviously I'm still here and writing this.

 I will have to relate a couple of my experiences in another post!!!

Class

I recently found former Navy Seal and transgender veteran Kristin Beck's Facebook page and sent her a friend request.

Here was her reply:  "Thank you for the support and for your service.  Welcome home sister on two fronts."

Class!

I Get It-I Think?

Step by step as I go through my MtF transition, little thoughts get into my noggin and stay there for a bit.

As I get closer to my first mammogram Friday, I have given quite a bit of thought to my small growing "girls", and how they do give me an instant sense of who I have become.  For the first time in my life I have some sort of gender inner "peace" when I wake up.

I think the closet genetic women around me think I'm going a bit overboard with the mammogram procedure, but then again none of them (fortunately) had to live through a maternal grandmother dying from breast cancer and a Mom who was constantly paranoiac about it.  If I can help it, I don't want to have come this far and suffer the complete irony of breast cancer.

So grudgingly this week, my partner Liz and the others have told me a mammogram is not a walk in the park and they know I'm a total sissy when it comes to pain.

This time, they don't get it. I'm not doing this as some right of passage I can write about here in Cyrsti's Condo or some stupid ego blitz like the trans nazi's love so much. (Haha! I've had a mammogram and you haven't!)

As far as pain goes, I'm not a fan. Getting my ears pierced was a brief shot of pain and even thinking of a tatoo puts me in pain.

That's OK though, my friends don't have to understand and that's all good.  Most certainly I haven't understood all that has happened to me.  Somehow though I know the mammogram is the right thing to do and maybe that's my Mom talking to me as the daughter she thought she never had.

Maybe I do get it?