Who Was That Woman?

Yesterday Liz, her son and I, headed out to a local chain steakhouse to meet her brother to celebrate a couple birthdays. I wore my black jeans, knee high charcoal boots and hip hugging gray leopard speckled form fitting top for the occasion. It was also cold enough for my black leather jacket.

As we were seated , no one paid me any extra attention which was good and we all ordered when her brother arrived. Lunch was good and soon enough it was time to leave. Before we did though, Liz and I had to go to the Ladies Room.

After taking care of business, as I was washing my hands, I caught a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror as I quickly rearranged  my hair. Just as quickly I realized I barely recognized the transgender woman looking back at me.

The HRT (hormone replacement therapy) regime seems to be working nicely as I approach four years continually on the program.

Pleased with myself, I stood up straight, threw my shoulders back and made the journey back to our table through a busy restaurant. No one barely paid me any attention.

Even though we were visiting a restaurant in Northern Kentucky, my fears of LGBT or transgender reprisal proved to be groundless.

It was a nice trip home!

Uncle Gloria

I decided to pass along this film which sounds very interesting about a transgender MtF transition later in life:

"Why would a man in his 60’s decide to change into a woman? That’s the question the documentary Uncle Gloria: One Helliuva Ride tries to answer. Set in Florida the movie follows Butch from a tough guy who runs an auto salvage business to a darling who just wants to be free from all that male stuff.

Butch has been married three times and with his first wife he had two children. With his second wife Shirley he stayed married for 21 years. One day Butch said he snapped and decided to divorce Shirley and she took him for all his money and even the pre-paid cemetery plots. Disgusted with it all Butch decides to become Gloria Stein, choosing the name from a combo of Gloria Estefan and Gloria Steinem."

Follow the link above for more.

Who Called the Fire Department?

Connie responded to my post yesterday concerning when I answered the front door with no make up:

"Dressing like that is what I call "BLANDING IN." I went grocery shopping this morning, and I'm sorry to say that I felt over-dressed, wearing skinny jeans, work-out jacket, and tennis shoes. I even saw two women in pajama bottoms! I don't know if these women stay that way all day, or if they just don't care what they look like when doing errands early in the morning. Maybe they go home and spend the afternoon getting all dolled up before their husbands come back from work. Remember that awful old sexist song, "Wives and Lovers?" 

It is very rare that I ever answer the doorbell. Of course, not that many years ago, I used to actually run and hide in the bathroom whenever I heard someone at the door, fearing they may see me "dressed up" if they should go around and peep through a window. And I would be all dressed up in those days, too! There was nothing ever comfortable about cross dressing - not in the choice of clothing, and not in the prospect of a confrontation. No makeup, sweat pants and a comfy sweater may be bland, but that look is more apt to blend than is looking like you're ready to go to a cocktail party in the middle of the day. :-)"

I get dressed to "blend" more than "bland" when I go to the store, but not (as you call) "cocktail party" ready. 

Someday I will have to write a post about when a fire truck was setting outside our house when my deceased wife got home. I was in the shower trying to erase all vestiges of cross dressing when she arrived panicked. I could only guess what I would have done if I had actually saw the fire truck and tried to "undress." 

As it was, I didn't fool my wife and caught hell anyway.

She always said I would lead her to an early grave. She passed away at fifty.