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About Me....

um... who me? uh i guess i'm the lounge's resident tranny. old school bustie formerly known as butta.

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entry Jun 20 2007, 10:23 PM
mood: dry.gif unsure.gif huh.gif blink.gif

so this morning at 5 something or other i post courage. so what happens today? i get hit on by two different guys. um...what th'.....?!? back to that in a moment, let's rewind a few days, shall we? let's shall!

before i begin with my tiny tale of woe, (or woah!, depending on which point you get bored and stop reading), i should explain seattle summers. to anyone not familiar with our fair city, one is given the impression that all it does is rain. far from it. true enough, we only have two seasons, and although, when it rains it pours here, the majority of the time here is simply overcast, and grey. if eskimos really do have 100 words for snow, seattlites have an equal number for grey. as for the temprature, usually chilly, nippy, but rarely is there the sort of outright cold that one might result in snow, or find in say, denver or pittsburgh. the point is, for most of the year people are covered up. but when the summer rolls around the streets are littered with every sort of sun worshipper imaginable. it's like the starving man who is taken to an all you can eat buffet. people walk around sun struck, instantly forgetting what purpose indoors holds. minimal clothing is de rigour. tank tops, shorts, flip flops, halters, skirts. suddenly this sullen, depressed city falls under the delusion that it is L.A. or san diego. it's summer in seattle, and everybody looks a little bit sexier....who even remembers clouds, rain or umbrellas?

the lovely karianne was so lovely as to pm a few days prior and ask me how things were going since i hadn't posted in a thread i used to frequent, and i felt the need to throw a pitty party. (i am so sorry kari), i was on the bus to go to welding school, when i sat across from a girl who, had i still been a boy would have been my waterloo. she was full figured, brunette, shoulder length hair with bangs, a deep red dress and maryjaneish ballet slippers. it was her simplicity that made her so heartbreakingly b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l-l-l-l-l-l....

dreamboat.

if i had a type she would be it, i couldn't resist looking at her as slyly as i could. yes, i know i get crushes as often as most people turn the channel, but, good goddamn she was a goddess. she was with 3 children, i made faces at the little girl. dream boat laughed at us making faces, and then put lipgloss on the girl, who thought she had to keep her lips pressed together for the lipgloss to work, something that dreamboat told me about.

...not that any of this really matters much. this was just the kernel of that party of pitty i had. see, i do prefer women, which is.... odd. or, rather out of the ordinary. it's not like i've not met any other dyke trannys. transexuals come in all shapes, sizes and orientations... but trannys of my type have the same problem i do: you admire them so much that two emotions get confligrated-- on some level, you want to be them. and you want to be with them. i will be the first to admit, a serious case of venus envy. most women know how to make this... womanhood... look so effortless. i'm not just talking about the uberfemmes, with their kitten heels, perfect coifs, no, i am just as in awe of how a girl can put her hair in a ponytail, wear no make up, two different colored tank tops, jeans and flip flops and sell it. the-one-that-got-away was like that. she always said she wanted to look more "sassified" or "put together" but i'll be damned if i didn't think jeans and tshirs were invented just for her. she was always just..... just fucking foxy. for me, i always feel so calculating. as if i have to try a little harder. but we were talking about my dream boat....


i suppose there was a tiny bit of that venus thing i go on about, but that was a flash. looking at her in the corner of my eye i missed being a man. oh, i know, you've heard all the cliches describing transexuality as being trapped in the wrong body. yeah. whatever. somebody feels that, but it ain't me. my thing was a sense of who i was internally, or -- more accurately -- that the essence of who i was, was not a dude. so how could i miss being a man? what was that about?

did i mention that the-one-that-got-away (heretofore known as totga) was in town last week? totga and i had a strange relationship (trust me, as you'll come to find out, all my relationships are strange). litterally the day before i met her i had decided not to commit suicide, and to bite the bullet and, i love this phrase, 'man up' and become a woman. so out of a need to keep myself busy i walked into where she worked, a video production place i had been meaning to check out for years... and i was smitten. love at first sight. but the thing is, and this was the point of this unbearibly long and rambling tangent, before i transitioned, i got to know her as a boy, and i'll be damned if i didn't get it. on this planet 24 some years, sowed my wild oats n' all and this girl made me understand what being a man was all about, and i loved it. for once in my goddamn life, i got it, but more, i got what it was like to make her feel like a woman. it was like this chemical reaction. intuitive, reflexive. i never thought about what to do i just did it. so why not just marry her and that's that?

cos it wouldn't last. i knew it wouldn't i had had relationships where i got glimpses of this euphoria, and when a rollercoaster goes up, dollars to donuts it's gonna come down, things will come full circle. so sitting there, looking at this beautiful girl, i wondered if that boy i was would have stood a chance with her. would we have dated? would we have fallen in love? i'm too insecure to think a girl like her could fall for me. i'm too many odd turns, ideocyncracies for most people, and as i said in the first courage essay, it's too difficult to tell if i pass or not, it's too nebulous, one minute you do, the next you don't, and....who would love me?

well. that last question was at the center of the that horrible little self-pittying email of navelgazing, and kari had the sense to ask me when i had transitioned. not that that question wasn't sort of a non-sequitor, but it made me do some thinking, about the women who did love me, and the answer came back, one that could see me beyond my body. granted those people are rare whether you're trans or not, but those are the best loves. because they really do love you. and this brings me to talking about my ex, but not now, i'll just drop the bug in your ear so you know what i am talking about when i do get around to writing about it. no, we are here to talk about the two who hit on me today, and can i reiterate, WTF?!

so the second instance of... hitting on... was when i was drenched with sweat from a hard skate, looking thru stacks at the 'hood library. dude came on strong, which i have to admire, but i don't like being hit on like that, in all honesty. let me explain. it's not that trannys don't get hit on, they do, but usually its for disposable trysty one-night stands. the idea most guys have is that they need to appease this fetish so they can shove it back in their closet, nothing more, so they will go to great lengths to hit on girls like me. so it's not terribly suprizing, which is not my reaction to the first person hitting on me. in the post before this i was talking about soggy jebus flirting with me. and in retrospect, the two other guys who hit on me were at it again today, one massaged my shoulders while we were cleaning up shop-- um.... ick! afterwords he said, "i know it felt good, you didn't even move!" um, hate to break it to you buster, but here is a moment by moment account of what i was thinking...

4:18. what? aw fuck. are you kidding me? ick, ick ew. you're massaging my shoulders? oh god. i seem to be frozen. so this is what it feels like to be a deer in headlights. legs, please run. anywhere. please.

4:19. oh for fucksake. this feels way too much like highschool. not. in. a. good. way. please stop. perhaps if i go to my happy place.

4:20. ew... his hands feel like he's shedding snake skin. what am i a loufa? do i look like an exfoliant to you? ugh. it's like cheap sandpaper...

4:21. dear god/dess in heaven, or wherever you are, please forgive me for everytime i did this to a girl. i was young. i didn't know better, and oh please make this stop! for all that is holy, please make this stop!

4:22. does this count as a fate worse than death?

ahem. i survived this horrible accident, but not without scars. horrible, horrible mental scars. my soul is a hollow shell.

next was a guy asking me if i was gonna go to the picnic they were organizing, and how much he'd like to see me there. oh for fucksake, you've got a girlfriend, and even if you didn't, FUCK NO. not on this or any other planet, not in this or any other lifetime, not in this or any other reality, no, no, no!

and finally soggy jebus. and while i like the guy, what i find funny is how he hit on me:

remember how i was telling you about seattle summers?

we were on the bus he was on one of those sideways facing seats facing the back exit door, i was across from him, in a forward facing seat, behind the door. at a stop he stopped mid sentance to watch two girls walk by. i couldn't help myself, i saw them out of the corner of my eye, and was curious about what he was looking at. the doors opened and this beautiful girl got on and sat next to me, i watched him watch her get on. and laughed at his blatentness. 'i was gonna ask you something before all these people got on, but i'll ask you later." ok....
after we got off the bus, he asked,
"so do you like boys, or girls?"
"me? lol...mostly girls. why do you ask?"
"oh i was just looking at those girls, and i saw you turn to look too, and i thought, oh.... so i wanted to ask."
"oh. yup girls."
"so is it...just girls or do you dabble some with boys?"
"nah. it's mostly the girls."
"oh. that's too bad. if you ever want to dabble....i'd be down."
at this point we parted. but as hard a time as i have thinking that i pass, i have an even harder time thinking that he, and all the other guys would hit on me if i didn't. it just goes against everything i know about guys.

anyways, in the words of dan rather,
"courage!"

entry Jun 20 2007, 05:58 AM
sorry i've been neglecting my blog, i've just been struggling thru the welding classes. this week is the last week and today. i have a job interview. i feel a lot of trepidation. i was hoping to have a new id with a f designation on it, but well, as is to much the case with my life, "the best laid plans of mice and ....yeah."

my doctor who i thought was so outstanding has been impossible to reach, but slow to help me finish this thing. i certainly need it changed before i apply for the union. that is going to be scary enough without any extra turbulance.

socially, things in the welding class are going really well. which i find odd. it's not that this is this class, this is a program, meaning you get to know your classmates, since you have to take several classes together.

the thing about being a transexual for me, is, and perhaps it is just this point in my transition (10+ years and counting, just so's you know), that i'm stealth. i.e. i'm not "out" as a transexual-- "woodworking" in slang terms, from the phase "fading into the woodwork." it's not that that was my intention. it wasn't for most of this part of my life i have been out, intentionally, pointedly so. but the last job, no-one asked, or brought it up, and what am i gonna do, come into work with it tatted on my forehead?

from there i got into this program, and while a couple of my classmates (and teachers) have made comments, or jokes, but they were the kind you wouldn't tell in front of the person, unless you were an ass. and there are a few asses in the class, but still..... the majority of them i suppose don't know or don't care. and, well, i would be understandably loathe to take a poll on the matter. most of the time i feel like, really? are you really not seeing thru my disguise? do you not see me here? how strange that it feels almost like a disguise-- like a fake mustache-- but i am a skeptic, a pessimist, so i find it really hard to beilive everyone doesn't know, and isn't just being patronizing. but whacha gonna do? tattoo it on your forehead?

i'm still not, it seems, sure of the idea that most people take me as a girl. it's something that takes a lot of getting used to, even if it's been your wish for years, or even if it is your deepest understanding of who you are. it's not as bad as it used to be. i don't answer to my birth name anymore (carlos, in case you were wondering), but there is this really odd, out of body dissonance in this life. it's this tipping point that ive hit. seeing more of a girl in the mirror than a boy, and this one took me years. occasionally, i still see the boy, but he seems to appear less frequently. now it's seeing this girl with slightly boyish features. but internally i feel almost as if i'm not there-- it's strangely the inverse of that girl who would look in the mirror when i was young who saw nothing but boy. i knew i was there-- it was my eyes-- those were mine... same now, but instead of being opressed by my body, locked in it, now i feel more etherial... more aware of my soul, the essence of me. that distiliation of girl trouble.... but now i'm getting slilly.

i say all of this because today one of my classmates came over to my table where i was talking to someone and said... "i hate math! the math teacher always gets into my space and touches me. i don't like guys touching me."

my knee jerk reaction was, you're telling me this? really? it's not like i'm touchy feely. infact i was much more touchy feely when i was a boy. i have been so--- cautious about transphobia, homophobia that i have become a bit physically withdrawn, compared to my boyself, who was quite comfortable saying i love you to my friends that were guys, giving them a hug, etc. but now i rarely do. i think mostly because i was transphobic when i was a boy. it cut too close to the bone, and well, i think anyone who knew me at that time- 18 thru 22, can tell you i was not terribly comfortable in my skin, or with who i was.....

the ironic thing is, that that math teacher he is homophobic about.... well, he's a transman. he wrote one of my favorite books about transexuals. i would think he would feel more comfortable around him than me. but maybe that's because i have this knowledge. the math teacher is very passable, as most f2ms are. he comes across as gay, but male. *shrug* but my classmate doesn't know that.

i do wonder what they do know. a couple of the guys have hit on me, the one who has done it most consistantly, has said that he has dated "a queen" before. he called his queen a he, but seemed to think it was pretty great, if a little suffocating. he said that she (i can't call her he, it goes against my grain, sorry), paid all the bills, and gave him spending money too. so i can see why he'd want to get with me, too. he doesn't seem like he is the "gravy train" type, but then, he's not my type either.

the other guys, seem oblivious, but this one guy, i call him "soggy jebus" cos after welding he wets his hair down in the sink, and, well he looks like our lord and savior. soggy jebus, has already slept with the other girl in class, and seems to have set his sights on me. he constantly winks at me, and makes those flirty little dirty jokes you make when you like someone. today he was making lots of those jokes...

as i said, this is the last week of welding, and as excited as i am, i feel so unprepared, although, when it comes to tig welding, i am #2 in my class behind a guy who has had a whole semester of tig welding more than me. everyone else has been focusing on mig and dual sheild welding, so they can get certification if possible. there's not a tig cert to get, so i rely on my skill to sell me.

last week one of my classes ended early, the teacher quit infavor of a better job, but as i was the last one there he took the time to tell me:

"i just wanted to tell you, you are one of the bravest people i've ever met."

me: really? lol. why? i don't think i am particularlly brave.

"well, a few years ago i was counciling a guy going thru somethng similar, and he hated his body so much---
he-- well he castrated himself. it just made me understand, this isn't just something chosen."

me: yeah. that's why i don't really get why people say i'm brave. if you have no choice in the matter, how brave is it? i wouldn't have castrated myself, but i would definately be dead if i haddn't gone down this path. but i can't see as i'm brave."

"let me put it this way: you're not in the baking department, you're not in the hair or makeup department-- you're in the WELDING DEPARTMENT. and that takes courage."

me: yeah, well i guess you do have a point there. i guess i'm not good with complements.

"well get used to it. you are one of the bravest people i've known, and this thing you're doing? you wear it well. best of luck to you."

i was telling this story to d, and she agrees. she says what i am doing is really brave. it's kind of funny, i guess i really can't see it that way. perhaps if i play dumb in this respect it will be easier, who knows.



entry May 2 2007, 11:01 PM
mood: wink.gif rolleyes.gif
i haven't had time to post, but i post in threads and yammer on and on, this is actually from the "write a letter you will never send thread," one of my favorites in the lounge. after i posted it, i thought it would be good here, so forgive the cross post....
dear wee lil' hips,

do you know how long i've waited for you to sprout? it's been forever. for the longest time, i would daydream about having you. i'd close my eyes at night and hope you'd be there magically in the morning... but you never were. all my friends tease me, saying i can have their fat, their hips, and if i knew a way to make that happen i would have, but there isn't. i had to wait for you. it's been roughly 96,532 hours give or take a couple thousand, since i started this path. ok, technically i've always been on this path, but you know what i mean. it's not been easy. i thought you'd be here years ago, i wouldn't still be shaving, my boobs'd be well, lets just say i wouldn't be wearing padded bras anymore. i also didn't think i'd pass, or change my name, or any number of the numerous detours i've taken. it's the story of my life. i know umpteen girls who transitioned in a year, and did things faster than me, but this is my path, my life and my body. as much of a pain in the-- lol -- ass my body has been, i've dragged it in to this new life kicking and screaming, but it was you that i wanted, you that i waited for. i don't know how much you'll grow, but i hope it's a lot. since day one, i wanted child bearing hips, funny as it sounds. all the other girls wanted boobs, and while i thought that would be nice, i wanted hips, those marvelous curves....i didn't, i don't, care about the big operation, that wasn't womanhood to me, or more exactly, for me. it was so many other things, things people pointed out that were already a part of me, how i held a cup of coffee, soft gestures, an inner strength, love of things with personal meanings, quietness, and you. i even debated doing things i knew were dangerous so i could have some facsimilie of you. i've gone back and forth, looking at other girls, industrial silicone filling their hips and chests. their hourglass figures, perfect for now. i never wanted perfection, only to find myself, and who knows how long the silicone would stay in place...in my head i can still see pictures of trannys with that plastic, bonded with their muscles sliding, lumpy, chunky, impossible to take out... but still i wanted you so badly, i still do. it's so funny, the temptation to get pumped. i know it's not a good long term choice, but i have fought all my life to have my body the way i know it in my head-- even for a little while, it seems worth while, but i am hoping that the tranny god/dess will have blessed me, just at the time when i probably would have given in, made the other choice. i can't even say it's the wrong one. just a different one. but i hope you are here, right on time, as aunt dottie would say, on these days when i feel more like a woman than i ever did, when it takes so little effort, when i feel comfortable in my skin, something i've felt so rarely in my 30+ years. it feels like i'm growing into me, into my womanhood, and here you come! yay! i just want you to know, you are wanted, no matter how much, you won't hear complaints from me. you just grow big, k? i love you, little hips. make me proud...after all, i've been waiting....

-gt

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