I had field work to do in an adjacent town of our metropolis. I forgot cameras batteries. Searching for a store that I could get some, I ran across a Goodwill thrift store I hadn't seen in years. I made a mental note and went back to finish the inspection. Afterwards, I went in and told myself I was just going to find an Asian collared dress to trade Dee out of the dress I like.
I took pictures of the dresses I thought she would like but none were quite what I needed to effect a trade. I was browsing the dresses when they reminded by loudspeaker that all purple tags are $1. Changing tactics, I started grabbing everything with a purple tag that was my size or Dee's. I got a pair of black silky pajama pants and a dress for Dee as well as a couple of fun items, one of which is probably the right size. Most of the dresses Dee's size were pretty picked over, none of the relatively cute ones were purple tags.
I reluctantly passed on six little black dresses in my size because we bought me an LBD the other day, and I can't really see where I am likely to wear one, but they looked cute. I grabbed several dresses for me including one that said size 14 but looked smaller than that. It turned out to be a girls 14 so it became property of our twelve year old tho loved if. I got two men's sport coats in 100% wool. I got a size 8 brown leather skirt that I can squeeze into if I don't breathe. I got a pair of size 10 black slacks that are too big in the hips, but with padding, might help my proportions. I got a size 8 pair of pink slacks by Talbot's, so of course I had to get it. Even though the name I chose had nothing to do with the store, I find I do kind of favor their style.
In the dresses a three fit great, one fit ok at top but was a little chunky looking lower and just wasn't that cute on. One totally isn't going to fit but I insisted Dee zip me up. It looked so good on. I was convinced that another 5 or 10 lbs would squeeze me into it. Dee, without being catty about it, explained that it isn't going to fit right even if I lost more. The binding is mostly in the ribcage area and although I am almost an 8 on my lower 1/2, the size 14 top even with-out any padding isn't likely to shrink much. I think this is just one of those male frame / female frame things I'm going to have to live with. One red bandanna dress feels really good on, just snug in the right places. I am going to have to re-visit my sewing skills at some point if I am ever going to get good fitting clothes.
I am hovering at 142-143 lbs these days down 25 from when I started dressing en femme about 3 months ago. I think that may be about as light as I realistically can go and stay healthy. I would like to swap about 15 lbs of fat for 10 lbs of muscle. Its going to take exercise to do that, and I am too blasted weak from being calorie low to do that. The hottest summer on record here hasn't helped either. I think I'll go make myself tat rib-eye steak I have in the fridge and do some sit-ups while it cooks.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
2 girls, all new wardrobes for $43.
I love thrift stores. Dee had to run an errand and I convinced her there were several thrift stores on the way. We never made it to any of the others after the first one.
It has some "siddifi-cent" racks out front of the about to be dumpstered, picked over, clothes. Dee really enjoyed going through them and saying, "Too big", "No that's a large", "Oh no, thats MUCH to big!". Her diet is going fabulously well. We have discussed that since Barbara's coming out we have both done really well.
We found some staple tops, Dee found a cute zip front sweater top. As we were about to leave they brought more out, and then more. We kept trying to keep up with the ugly stuff, and THEN they mention that it $1.01 day EVERYTHING in clothing is $1 and we are wasting time on the 65 cent junk. Grabbing a cart we went in.
We each got a little black dresses. Mine was a little small maybe a size 8, but really stretchy fabric so I went with it. Dee got her a little small as an incentive to keep on her diet. Dee got a really beautiful midnight blue full-length dress with an offset back slit and a Asian collar. It is a little small for her for now so I generously offered to model it. She seems to think I am planning on stealing it. It is a great dress, but she did say it is more my color, If I can find a similar dress in red, she'll trade me. That dress will be mine!
Dena found the cutest little red hooded poncho. "Little Red Riding Hood, I really don't think you should..go walking through the deep dark woods alone..." I found a guys thinsulite lined, trench coat misfiled with the women's coats. Then I found a classic women's overcoat, pulling it out I checked the tag, 100% camel hair for $1! then I found another in a wool mohair blend. Dee got a great womans navy pea coat.
OK it was not shoe day, but as Dee says, I am a shoe whore. I really tried to feed my male side, but none of the shoes were even remotely interesting. I settled on the least offensive some white loafers, that Dee assures me they are hideous.
I found a nice pair of basic white pumps in a medium heel, a pair of strappy white mules. Dee got some great classic black patent leather pumps that remind her of the clothing from "Mad Men". Dee found a pair of 9 1/2 inch womens loafers which she tried on and said fit her because they were narrow. I said go ahead and get them when she pointed out they were from Talbot's which has become an inside joke because of Barb's last name. I figured I would borrow 'em. I misunderstood she did mean them for me so that $10 to the Barbara side of the column.
I found a tennis racket for an upcoming photo shoot idea we had.
total $43. The fun we had..priceless.
It has some "siddifi-cent" racks out front of the about to be dumpstered, picked over, clothes. Dee really enjoyed going through them and saying, "Too big", "No that's a large", "Oh no, thats MUCH to big!". Her diet is going fabulously well. We have discussed that since Barbara's coming out we have both done really well.
We found some staple tops, Dee found a cute zip front sweater top. As we were about to leave they brought more out, and then more. We kept trying to keep up with the ugly stuff, and THEN they mention that it $1.01 day EVERYTHING in clothing is $1 and we are wasting time on the 65 cent junk. Grabbing a cart we went in.
We each got a little black dresses. Mine was a little small maybe a size 8, but really stretchy fabric so I went with it. Dee got her a little small as an incentive to keep on her diet. Dee got a really beautiful midnight blue full-length dress with an offset back slit and a Asian collar. It is a little small for her for now so I generously offered to model it. She seems to think I am planning on stealing it. It is a great dress, but she did say it is more my color, If I can find a similar dress in red, she'll trade me. That dress will be mine!
Dena found the cutest little red hooded poncho. "Little Red Riding Hood, I really don't think you should..go walking through the deep dark woods alone..." I found a guys thinsulite lined, trench coat misfiled with the women's coats. Then I found a classic women's overcoat, pulling it out I checked the tag, 100% camel hair for $1! then I found another in a wool mohair blend. Dee got a great womans navy pea coat.
OK it was not shoe day, but as Dee says, I am a shoe whore. I really tried to feed my male side, but none of the shoes were even remotely interesting. I settled on the least offensive some white loafers, that Dee assures me they are hideous.
I found a nice pair of basic white pumps in a medium heel, a pair of strappy white mules. Dee got some great classic black patent leather pumps that remind her of the clothing from "Mad Men". Dee found a pair of 9 1/2 inch womens loafers which she tried on and said fit her because they were narrow. I said go ahead and get them when she pointed out they were from Talbot's which has become an inside joke because of Barb's last name. I figured I would borrow 'em. I misunderstood she did mean them for me so that $10 to the Barbara side of the column.
I found a tennis racket for an upcoming photo shoot idea we had.
total $43. The fun we had..priceless.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
A couple of more pictures
Still from our photo shoot yesterday. Just wanted to add them because I am an attention whore. Funny Barbara likes the camera, and the other guy can't stand posing or pictures of himself. Dee's evil plan is to desensitize me en femme mode to the camera so she can sneak up en homme and get me to pose as my handsome self. I think I'll play hard to get for a bit longer. Tell me I'm pretty...
How to get from A to B fast with heels.
Carry them!
Last week I was thinking gender bending in my clothing choices. I wore women's dockers to church (I know weak) but I did pair them with women's loafers in a glove leather. While putting that together at a series of thrift stores, I came across the perfect en femme 'Sunday shoes'. Mind you I would NEVER wear them to church, but its a giggle to think about it. They are spectator pumps I came to know after the fact. (Thanks, Stephanie). Black toe, black heel with wide ankle strap, cut-away instep and white band above the toe with a punched hole detail like on wingtips.
4" heel but a little wider heel than I like, but I found I cant even walk in actual stilettos yet. I have spent a lifetime noticing women's shoes and watching them move in them. Turns out that doesn't help with actually wearing them.
So a few days ago I strapped on the spectator pumps. Next I wriggled into my black leather skirt, briefly arguing with Dee that yes, I know the tag goes in the back but there's only one slit and that wouldn't put the slit in either the front or the back. She explained that on short skirts the single slit over the leg is better at making it walkable than a slit in the middle which actually doesn't help. I slipped on a cute "dove for" stretch top that I nabbed out of the bag before my 12 year-old clothes horse. Finally, I hopped on the treadmill for practice.
I found that anything over 1.3 mph and my gait gets really awkward.
"So," I ask Dee,"how does your gait change in heels when you have to move quickly in heels? What do you do differently when you have to move fast?"
Simple she says..you take them off.
For the record I managed 4 mph without breaking an ankle or (worse) a heel.
I didn't maintain that pace of course. I worked on my deportment for a while.
I haven't yet walked a mile in a GG's shoes, but I did manage a 1/2 mile. Most surprising thing was how little ones calves have to do with walking in heels, Ironic because calves look so nice and athletic in heels.
When we did the photos yesterday, I brought the spectators also even though Dee frowned on the pairing with the dress. The shoes in the pictures I like,but I once tried to walk 1/2 a block to the mailbox and came home crippled. I found this time after the treadmill practice and wearing thicker hose, they were tolerable, and more importantly, cute.
I started walking down the slope with the thin heels spiking into the soft, wet ground and with a grin followed Dee's advice and took them off. I asked Dee to get a shot of me heels in hand to prove that I indeed can learn.
Last week I was thinking gender bending in my clothing choices. I wore women's dockers to church (I know weak) but I did pair them with women's loafers in a glove leather. While putting that together at a series of thrift stores, I came across the perfect en femme 'Sunday shoes'. Mind you I would NEVER wear them to church, but its a giggle to think about it. They are spectator pumps I came to know after the fact. (Thanks, Stephanie). Black toe, black heel with wide ankle strap, cut-away instep and white band above the toe with a punched hole detail like on wingtips.
4" heel but a little wider heel than I like, but I found I cant even walk in actual stilettos yet. I have spent a lifetime noticing women's shoes and watching them move in them. Turns out that doesn't help with actually wearing them.
So a few days ago I strapped on the spectator pumps. Next I wriggled into my black leather skirt, briefly arguing with Dee that yes, I know the tag goes in the back but there's only one slit and that wouldn't put the slit in either the front or the back. She explained that on short skirts the single slit over the leg is better at making it walkable than a slit in the middle which actually doesn't help. I slipped on a cute "dove for" stretch top that I nabbed out of the bag before my 12 year-old clothes horse. Finally, I hopped on the treadmill for practice.
I found that anything over 1.3 mph and my gait gets really awkward.
"So," I ask Dee,"how does your gait change in heels when you have to move quickly in heels? What do you do differently when you have to move fast?"
Simple she says..you take them off.
For the record I managed 4 mph without breaking an ankle or (worse) a heel.
I didn't maintain that pace of course. I worked on my deportment for a while.
I haven't yet walked a mile in a GG's shoes, but I did manage a 1/2 mile. Most surprising thing was how little ones calves have to do with walking in heels, Ironic because calves look so nice and athletic in heels.
When we did the photos yesterday, I brought the spectators also even though Dee frowned on the pairing with the dress. The shoes in the pictures I like,but I once tried to walk 1/2 a block to the mailbox and came home crippled. I found this time after the treadmill practice and wearing thicker hose, they were tolerable, and more importantly, cute.
I started walking down the slope with the thin heels spiking into the soft, wet ground and with a grin followed Dee's advice and took them off. I asked Dee to get a shot of me heels in hand to prove that I indeed can learn.
Wigging out...
Ok, I don't even know where to start.
We had a day out in the sun taking pictures. I put the wig in a dove for Samsonite make-up case and wiped off the make-up before coming home to the older kids. The kids had seen the wig in the closet before, and been told to leave it alone.
Today they were exploring and found the wig in the make-up . They knew that I had found the case out diving some night and somehow got it in their head that they had "found" a new play-toy and were in process of playing dress-up with it.
We retrieved it, Dee dodged questions about whose wig and why we have it. The smart answer would have been it's Dee's and its for fun or when she doesn't feel like styling her hair.
The kids suddenly said nearly in unison, "Put it on Dad!!!" Dee looks at me for ascent which I give. I play dumb and put it on backwards. Our least femme child points out how it should be put on. I turn it around, and Dee reaches for the camera. Always on the look-out for a family photo. "OK kids pose with Dad...."
The kids HOWLED wit laughter. Then the 8 year old (boy) says, "Me next! Me next!". Dee said NOOOO...go on now, shooing them out. We talked and (as I thought) her objection was they were ruining my wig not of course the fact that the boy wanted to try on a wig. I told her I had no objection and didn't want him to feel like we were saying no on the basis of being a boy. We called him back in and he just BEAMED when Dee placed the wig on his little round head. He rushed to the mirror and said I look just like __________ (the 10 year old who is currently opposed to all things femme.)
What about a dress? He pressed further. Dee and I were Dying laughing inside exchanging knowing glances and wide open mouth gestures when his back was turned. First he wanted the peach jacketed dress Dee wore to church. She explained it was too large for him, so glancing around the closet he ZEROED in on a butter cream jacketed dress that Dee and I got for me at the very same time that we got the peach one for her. We steered him away from the only dress that would fit a little black cocktail dress of mine.
As an aside if you aren't a regular reader here, I also like dumpster diving. I recently had several boxes and bags of clothes, we donate the ones that no one can or will wear. We had some really frilly things that out 10 year old girl won't consider in the to be donated box. Dee grabbed that. I expected that it be a little much for him,. He couldn't wait and pulled it on. He wanted shoes Dee suggested a conservative pair. He wanted my clear 6" stripper heels.
Dee asked him how he felt in the dress. He said, "MMMOMMMM, I wear dresses ALL the time!" Shocked, but trying to hide it we casually asked, um, when is it that you have before. He explained that they didn't have a wig, but that he used to play dress-up with his sisters all the time from the costume box. We had forgotten about that but he hadn't. It has been at least 2-3 years since his sister had any interest in playing dress up with him but both his sisters from when he was 4 or so and they were 6 and 8 used to let him play with them. He even asked for and got his own Crissy doll.
I was moved at seeing his exuberance at being able to dress-up. I don't really think this is a truly transgendered issue, but him being able to have fun with it meant a lot to me with my horrific experience at 3 or 4 trying the same thing. Dee had a glint of tears in her eyes as she saw his big smile and pointed out that that could have been my joy if I had been allowed to express myself.
The 12 year-old wanted to get dressed up before she tried it on and now wants her own wig. The 10 year-old wanted to try it on and practice some Dave Grohl inspired head banging moves, but was VERY upset at the 8 year old saying he is her long lost twin (they are the same size roughly) because as she pointed out she would NEVER wear a prissy dress like that!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Hot, Medium or Mild?
We were out taking pictures and worked up an appetite. I suggested a drive-through. I cleverly had Dee order. I un-cleverly didn't think about the fact that they were going to ask Hot, Medium, or Mild. Feeling meek, I said mild, not even attempting a femme voice. Dee snapped a pic when the girls back was turned. She said nothing but you could definitely see in her eyes that she clearly knew I was not what a glance would have thought. We left just laughing and laughing. I really didn't mind bing read, it was actually kind of more fun that way.
Dee turned as we left and caught her looking after us with a bemused expression she said. Dee claims if I hadn't spoken I'd have passed. She is being kind.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The incomplete history of Barbara from 1968 to present.
I have been unhappy as of late with the current level of sexualization of discussions at my favorite forum www.crossdressers.com and was looking about for other more gender-issue specific websites and came across www.crossdressers-forum.com and joined. I'll be back to my first online home for Barbara, but the new forum looks really good and has a lot of familiar faces. I got on one of my typically verbose typing spasms when I tried to introduce myself. It veered and meandered 1600 words, and eventually morphed from an introduction into a history, so I clipped that and deposited it here, because I loathe typing and can't bear to wast the fruits of two hours of typing. If I had voice recognition software, I'd bury Stephen King and all his many nom-de-plumes in text. In male mode I blather, as Barbara, well the chick wears me out, and I am she!
My history as I currently choose to remember it, by Barbara
My male and dominant persona was born in 1965. In approximately 1969, but more likely 1968 after church, my beloved older sister had taken off her pretty dress in favor of play clothes and placed it on her twin bed of the matching princess style bedroom set of hers that we shared in her room. I too, was later changing out of of my handsome church clothes and looked for play clothes. Seeing her dress I inexplicably and with an impish gleam in my eyes slipped it over my head.
Mocking each other verbally was something we did to the annoyance of our parents. I pictured the effect my new costume would have on the accuracy of my portrayal. I snatched up socks and her black Mary Janes and ruffled socks and examined my appearance in the mirror. Since we had the same brown hair, the same brown hair with the same single blond streak on our left temple, it was remarkable the transformation with just clothes. My next step puzzles me to this day. I reached into the bottom drawer of the bureau and got out a clean pair of plain white panties and substituted it for my jockey shorts.
Wobbling out into the living room to what I thought would be accolades, my mother, eyes wide with horror said, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING???!!!!"
I said, "Look, I'm _____!" and sashayed a bit. Mom leaped up and lifted the hem of my dress, foam nearly forming at her corners of her mouth. "THAT"S WHAT I THOUGHT......WHERE IS YOUR UNDERWEAR??!!!!!! " and twisting my arm drug me back to my sister and my room. Yanking the dress over my head, and then stripping off the shoes socks and panties, I stood naked before her. Now I knew I was in trouble, IN our house, hyper modesty was the norm. I had had some pretty sever punishment previously over the Barbies, not because I had gotten into my sisters toys, but because I had stripped them naked.
Tossing my underwear to me, She with obvious disgust told me to put them back on. Some vague threats were made of how my father would view this activity when he got home from whatever meeting he was attending. (He BTW at the time had been asked my our church to serve as a volunteer layperson Chaplin for prisoners formerly of our faith who were doing time at Louisiana State Penitentiary.) Grounded to my room, I sat confused, on the bed awaiting my punishment, most certainly going to be corporal in nature. After a time she came back to further confuse me with a over sized load of guilt and shame to the accompaniment of Deuteronomy. A book which contains a lot of rules that my church teaches condescendingly that our Hebrew brethren of Moses day needed because they were not ready for the "Higher Law" and had to be "commanded in all things" at that time.
I learned of my "sin" and the absolute imperative necessity to never repeat such an abomination ever again. This despite the fact that my church scoffs at infant baptism because children specifically below the age 8 are innocent and pure in the eyes of their loving Heavenly Father and explicit incapable of sin as sin requires intent and knowledge. Apparently in my mom's mind the only exception to both Mosaic Law and to Sin by Innocents, is this particular heinous act that is all to close to the Sin that has No Name.
The over reaction not the actual act is what I have always thought of as the genesis of a lifetime of confusion, repression, and varied acting out behaviors in ways as varied as crossdressing, v0yeurism, exhibiti0nism, masturbati0n, objectification, and low self esteem. Of the list of behaviors I engaged in in various forms off and on for the next 38 years, the wearing of women's intimates seemed the most perverted, but oddly was never on the top of the list of things I viewed as compulsive behaviors. On the seemingly unconnected occasions when I would find a swim-suit or a pair of nylons hung up to dry and had the privacy to lock the door and wriggle into them, I would feel a bit silly afterward, but would not picture it likely that I would feel compelled to do so again.
Yet I did. Again and again and again. Interestingly even just masturbation caused me waves of guilt for which I sought professional help for my sex addiction. I did in the context of family and sexual history disclose fully as I saw it my crossdressing activities, but my level of denial was such that it was dismissed as not my primary issue by really good counselors trained personally by Patrick Carnes. I would have agreed with them given the level of information I was able to provide because of the disconnect between the incidents and the other presenting behaviors. They helped me to deal with my feelings of not being able to see the incident with my mom as simply about her and not me.
I spent time in various 12 step groups, compulsivity groups, individual counseling, even did a workbook along with actual indicted or even convicted sex offenders. Their genesis stories were not that different than my own. I often thought that there, but for the grace of God, go I.
I got clean, and stayed clean for a few years. The prominence of the Internet, the need to use it in my job, and the ever increasing amount of pornography on the Internet made it awfully easy to privately and steadily relapse time and time again into compulsive behaviors. My wife, who is pretty open minded and very healthy and secure in her sexuality would not in anyway add to my load of shame and guilt over simple indulgence in the vulgar and the base. My need for secrecy to do so, my voyeuristic obsession and its corrosive effects was always her concern. So I hid, I got caught, I reformed, I yearned, I backslid, I hid, I got caught....in an endless cycle.
4-5 months ago I was again skulking the darkened (in my mind) alleys of places where people expose their predilections and fantasies and even their bodies. I noted crossdressers posting pictures of themselves en femme, and was disinterested in the imagery but fascinated by the replies posted by GG's (genetic girls) who were in their individual cases finding such displays arousing.
My wife, having expressed that she has an unfulfilled bi-sexual orientation seemed as likely as any woman to find this sort of thing if not arousing, then certainly not overly repulsive.
I thought back to both my dressing (really only intimates since that first disastrous experiment) and to the teasing of childhood about feminine characteristics mostly tied to my small stature. I was 4' 11" and 72 lbs entering high school. In hindsight, man could I have passed then! I would have been a petite size zero, and who is going to think tranny when they see a tiny girl in cute clothes?
We interrupt for this:
My wife beside me says if I hadn't grown we never have married. Intrigued I just asked her, too short? She replied, no too thin, I never would have married someone lighter than me. I am currently heavier than my husband and it bugs the heck out of me." She is gaining (well losing actually) on me. She has lost 35 lbs in the last 2+ months to my 23. eventually she plans to lose enough to role reverse and 'borrow' my femme clothes and then lose her way down to put her clothes safely out of my reach. "Betch!"
Back to my regularly scheduled post:
So, I began buying outerwear nervously at thrift stores, and culling my wife's wardrobe, and practicing. I had this bright idea of 'surprising' her with a fully formed "Barbara" on our anniversary which we had already made plans to spend in Las Vegas, combining a family trip, out anniversary, and a visit to one of her online friends.
A couple of weeks prior, she found "the stash", thought I was having an affair with an unclothed woman with poor taste, and began a forensic analysis of my computer. Finding footprints of my male persona acting out she began drawing up divorce papers. At one point she found references to Barbara, even found an online profile with a really bad picture of me in a wig. She couldn't conceive of her fella in a dress, so she assumed the skank was your average home wrecker. A bit later still fuming she found my newly purchased make-up still unused. Doesn't this woman even have her own make-up? ..a few beats...then OHHHHHHHHH. Back to the computer back to the profile and mouth agape she realized Barbara is the dude she has been sleeping with for the last 15 years...
Google google read read, she was relieved to find that in many cases the CD is married, often closeted, often straight. Well, check, check,and check. Still righteously indignant about my secrecy, she fumed (I was camping with the boys at the time). By the time I returned she had prepared her composure to tell me that she was unhappy with the sneaking but wanted to tell me that my dressing is my business and she would not in any way stand in the way.
Emotionally needy, embarrassed, I heard it as she was indifferent and would allow it, but my grand plan for a lesbian weekend in Vegas seemed remote and silly. Feeling small I sulked and planned to put Barbara back in the closet. A couple of days of her gentle encouragement I was able to open up and hear her, and she took me by the hand to a store and bought me some shoes, some clothing, a matching bra and pantie set, and we haven't looked back. No idea where this will lead, but I am very happy and oddly complete at this time.
My history as I currently choose to remember it, by Barbara
My male and dominant persona was born in 1965. In approximately 1969, but more likely 1968 after church, my beloved older sister had taken off her pretty dress in favor of play clothes and placed it on her twin bed of the matching princess style bedroom set of hers that we shared in her room. I too, was later changing out of of my handsome church clothes and looked for play clothes. Seeing her dress I inexplicably and with an impish gleam in my eyes slipped it over my head.
Mocking each other verbally was something we did to the annoyance of our parents. I pictured the effect my new costume would have on the accuracy of my portrayal. I snatched up socks and her black Mary Janes and ruffled socks and examined my appearance in the mirror. Since we had the same brown hair, the same brown hair with the same single blond streak on our left temple, it was remarkable the transformation with just clothes. My next step puzzles me to this day. I reached into the bottom drawer of the bureau and got out a clean pair of plain white panties and substituted it for my jockey shorts.
Wobbling out into the living room to what I thought would be accolades, my mother, eyes wide with horror said, "WHAT ARE YOU WEARING???!!!!"
I said, "Look, I'm _____!" and sashayed a bit. Mom leaped up and lifted the hem of my dress, foam nearly forming at her corners of her mouth. "THAT"S WHAT I THOUGHT......WHERE IS YOUR UNDERWEAR??!!!!!! " and twisting my arm drug me back to my sister and my room. Yanking the dress over my head, and then stripping off the shoes socks and panties, I stood naked before her. Now I knew I was in trouble, IN our house, hyper modesty was the norm. I had had some pretty sever punishment previously over the Barbies, not because I had gotten into my sisters toys, but because I had stripped them naked.
Tossing my underwear to me, She with obvious disgust told me to put them back on. Some vague threats were made of how my father would view this activity when he got home from whatever meeting he was attending. (He BTW at the time had been asked my our church to serve as a volunteer layperson Chaplin for prisoners formerly of our faith who were doing time at Louisiana State Penitentiary.) Grounded to my room, I sat confused, on the bed awaiting my punishment, most certainly going to be corporal in nature. After a time she came back to further confuse me with a over sized load of guilt and shame to the accompaniment of Deuteronomy. A book which contains a lot of rules that my church teaches condescendingly that our Hebrew brethren of Moses day needed because they were not ready for the "Higher Law" and had to be "commanded in all things" at that time.
I learned of my "sin" and the absolute imperative necessity to never repeat such an abomination ever again. This despite the fact that my church scoffs at infant baptism because children specifically below the age 8 are innocent and pure in the eyes of their loving Heavenly Father and explicit incapable of sin as sin requires intent and knowledge. Apparently in my mom's mind the only exception to both Mosaic Law and to Sin by Innocents, is this particular heinous act that is all to close to the Sin that has No Name.
The over reaction not the actual act is what I have always thought of as the genesis of a lifetime of confusion, repression, and varied acting out behaviors in ways as varied as crossdressing, v0yeurism, exhibiti0nism, masturbati0n, objectification, and low self esteem. Of the list of behaviors I engaged in in various forms off and on for the next 38 years, the wearing of women's intimates seemed the most perverted, but oddly was never on the top of the list of things I viewed as compulsive behaviors. On the seemingly unconnected occasions when I would find a swim-suit or a pair of nylons hung up to dry and had the privacy to lock the door and wriggle into them, I would feel a bit silly afterward, but would not picture it likely that I would feel compelled to do so again.
Yet I did. Again and again and again. Interestingly even just masturbation caused me waves of guilt for which I sought professional help for my sex addiction. I did in the context of family and sexual history disclose fully as I saw it my crossdressing activities, but my level of denial was such that it was dismissed as not my primary issue by really good counselors trained personally by Patrick Carnes. I would have agreed with them given the level of information I was able to provide because of the disconnect between the incidents and the other presenting behaviors. They helped me to deal with my feelings of not being able to see the incident with my mom as simply about her and not me.
I spent time in various 12 step groups, compulsivity groups, individual counseling, even did a workbook along with actual indicted or even convicted sex offenders. Their genesis stories were not that different than my own. I often thought that there, but for the grace of God, go I.
I got clean, and stayed clean for a few years. The prominence of the Internet, the need to use it in my job, and the ever increasing amount of pornography on the Internet made it awfully easy to privately and steadily relapse time and time again into compulsive behaviors. My wife, who is pretty open minded and very healthy and secure in her sexuality would not in anyway add to my load of shame and guilt over simple indulgence in the vulgar and the base. My need for secrecy to do so, my voyeuristic obsession and its corrosive effects was always her concern. So I hid, I got caught, I reformed, I yearned, I backslid, I hid, I got caught....in an endless cycle.
4-5 months ago I was again skulking the darkened (in my mind) alleys of places where people expose their predilections and fantasies and even their bodies. I noted crossdressers posting pictures of themselves en femme, and was disinterested in the imagery but fascinated by the replies posted by GG's (genetic girls) who were in their individual cases finding such displays arousing.
My wife, having expressed that she has an unfulfilled bi-sexual orientation seemed as likely as any woman to find this sort of thing if not arousing, then certainly not overly repulsive.
I thought back to both my dressing (really only intimates since that first disastrous experiment) and to the teasing of childhood about feminine characteristics mostly tied to my small stature. I was 4' 11" and 72 lbs entering high school. In hindsight, man could I have passed then! I would have been a petite size zero, and who is going to think tranny when they see a tiny girl in cute clothes?
We interrupt for this:
My wife beside me says if I hadn't grown we never have married. Intrigued I just asked her, too short? She replied, no too thin, I never would have married someone lighter than me. I am currently heavier than my husband and it bugs the heck out of me." She is gaining (well losing actually) on me. She has lost 35 lbs in the last 2+ months to my 23. eventually she plans to lose enough to role reverse and 'borrow' my femme clothes and then lose her way down to put her clothes safely out of my reach. "Betch!"
Back to my regularly scheduled post:
So, I began buying outerwear nervously at thrift stores, and culling my wife's wardrobe, and practicing. I had this bright idea of 'surprising' her with a fully formed "Barbara" on our anniversary which we had already made plans to spend in Las Vegas, combining a family trip, out anniversary, and a visit to one of her online friends.
A couple of weeks prior, she found "the stash", thought I was having an affair with an unclothed woman with poor taste, and began a forensic analysis of my computer. Finding footprints of my male persona acting out she began drawing up divorce papers. At one point she found references to Barbara, even found an online profile with a really bad picture of me in a wig. She couldn't conceive of her fella in a dress, so she assumed the skank was your average home wrecker. A bit later still fuming she found my newly purchased make-up still unused. Doesn't this woman even have her own make-up? ..a few beats...then OHHHHHHHHH. Back to the computer back to the profile and mouth agape she realized Barbara is the dude she has been sleeping with for the last 15 years...
Google google read read, she was relieved to find that in many cases the CD is married, often closeted, often straight. Well, check, check,and check. Still righteously indignant about my secrecy, she fumed (I was camping with the boys at the time). By the time I returned she had prepared her composure to tell me that she was unhappy with the sneaking but wanted to tell me that my dressing is my business and she would not in any way stand in the way.
Emotionally needy, embarrassed, I heard it as she was indifferent and would allow it, but my grand plan for a lesbian weekend in Vegas seemed remote and silly. Feeling small I sulked and planned to put Barbara back in the closet. A couple of days of her gentle encouragement I was able to open up and hear her, and she took me by the hand to a store and bought me some shoes, some clothing, a matching bra and pantie set, and we haven't looked back. No idea where this will lead, but I am very happy and oddly complete at this time.
Monday, August 20, 2007
I need to run.
I used to be a long distance runner. I'm 5' 8" now (almost, all short guys round up) . At the time I was just over 5' tall. I had proportionately speaking long legs and a short torso. I ran JV and sometimes picked up points for the team by showing up if the other team couldn't field three )or more) runners. Occasionally I even won. In any case running is a lonely sport, no fans in the stands, sometimes no runners to run against, Just me gutting it out against the clock. I always found a little extra for that last 100 yards, sprinting past what I had to imagine was a stand full of fans. I ran whether I had a stitch in my side, a pulled hamstring, or a knee remembering a vicious tackle in a touch football game.
I didn't have a lot of self esteem from years of thoughtless bullying and snide comments about my size and less than masculine physique. The track was what kept me convinced that I was in fact a man as much as any estrogen rich chubby football player with his man-boobs masquerading as pecs. Nothing like initially being left behind by the pack at the gate but burning past their wheezing lungs and pained expressions at the 800 yard mark. In a very large school I realized that ther were only maybe 20 guys that could beat me in a mile, and only hard core runners could beat me at 2 miles. My record for 400 meters was 72 seconds. My mile time at 5:14 was not earth shattering but for my age and height it stands as a pretty impressive display of heart and lungs. Especially for a boy that was small because of childhood bronchial asthma. 72x4 is 4:48 I only lost 26 seconds from an all out sprint. No one can sprint a mile. My 2 mile time at 11:34 was nearly 2 sprinted miles less one minute.
I had high hopes for speed as I grew. As it was the tallest of the varsity runners took 2 strides to my 3. The coach already thought I was striding to long as it was. When they ran 10 miles, I took the same number of steps as 15 miles. I ran 5 miles every morning before school, then I kicked the football teams ass for a mile, then back off campus for another 5 miles of roadwork.
That was the only year I ran with a silly dishwashing job taking my time the next year. As I grew it was all torso, so now I have proportionately short legs. A motorcycle accident, 6 months on crutches, 2 years on a cane ended any real thoughts of a comeback. Eventually I learned to jog, but it wasn't the same, no clock, no goal, no thrill.
In the last few years after years of having no say in how light I was, I slowly crept up in weight to 168. I was horrified by the picture I took when I was trying to improve my crossdressing look. I set a goal of 145 lbs. A couple of months later, this morning I achieved that goal. I am already aiming for 135 now. It feels good to feel I have some mastery over my body again. I think I might be light enough to begin light training without injuring my leg. Running robs your upper body of tissue in favor of feeding the legs which will help my blouse size get closer to my skirt size, but its gonna cost me my little man-boobs. I can live with that.
I didn't have a lot of self esteem from years of thoughtless bullying and snide comments about my size and less than masculine physique. The track was what kept me convinced that I was in fact a man as much as any estrogen rich chubby football player with his man-boobs masquerading as pecs. Nothing like initially being left behind by the pack at the gate but burning past their wheezing lungs and pained expressions at the 800 yard mark. In a very large school I realized that ther were only maybe 20 guys that could beat me in a mile, and only hard core runners could beat me at 2 miles. My record for 400 meters was 72 seconds. My mile time at 5:14 was not earth shattering but for my age and height it stands as a pretty impressive display of heart and lungs. Especially for a boy that was small because of childhood bronchial asthma. 72x4 is 4:48 I only lost 26 seconds from an all out sprint. No one can sprint a mile. My 2 mile time at 11:34 was nearly 2 sprinted miles less one minute.
I had high hopes for speed as I grew. As it was the tallest of the varsity runners took 2 strides to my 3. The coach already thought I was striding to long as it was. When they ran 10 miles, I took the same number of steps as 15 miles. I ran 5 miles every morning before school, then I kicked the football teams ass for a mile, then back off campus for another 5 miles of roadwork.
That was the only year I ran with a silly dishwashing job taking my time the next year. As I grew it was all torso, so now I have proportionately short legs. A motorcycle accident, 6 months on crutches, 2 years on a cane ended any real thoughts of a comeback. Eventually I learned to jog, but it wasn't the same, no clock, no goal, no thrill.
In the last few years after years of having no say in how light I was, I slowly crept up in weight to 168. I was horrified by the picture I took when I was trying to improve my crossdressing look. I set a goal of 145 lbs. A couple of months later, this morning I achieved that goal. I am already aiming for 135 now. It feels good to feel I have some mastery over my body again. I think I might be light enough to begin light training without injuring my leg. Running robs your upper body of tissue in favor of feeding the legs which will help my blouse size get closer to my skirt size, but its gonna cost me my little man-boobs. I can live with that.
Dave Grohl in panties may have saved my marriage.
Sitting next to Dee this morning, she is indoctrinating the baby with Foo Fighters videos. She pointed out that Taylor has a femme name in drag. (Tayla). Got me thinking about how much she enjoyed the crossdressing in "Learn to Fly" and "Everlong" she used to laugh with delight at 'Wacky Dave's" sense of humor and how secure he seems in his masculinity to do it. This is long before I came out to myself much less to her. When she found my stash I hope it was "Everlong" playing in her mind, not "Low".
Like father like son...
My eight year old boy is most exuberant in his sartorial expressions. He has no hesitation in mimicking his sister or clomping around in mom's (well or dad's but he would think of them as mom's) heels. His delight on finding a pair of pom-poms in our bedroom is a story in itself.
Placeholder for the story about how they came to be in our room with commentary about how accepting Dee has always been about his dress-up fun even before either she our I knew I would have any interest in actively CD-ing.
Placeholder for the story about how they came to be in our room with commentary about how accepting Dee has always been about his dress-up fun even before either she our I knew I would have any interest in actively CD-ing.
My journey to apostacy and back in a day.
Place holder for story about my concerns about treatment of GLB members in the past. Dee helped a lot with understanding that people are people and people weren't ready to be tolerant then. Doesnt excuse it but, makes the softer more inclusive verbiage of today easier to reconcile.
Story ends with me sitting in the office at church chatting about my journey whilst wearing my navy chick version of dockers, girls microfiber trouser socks, and girls loafers and quite comfortable with both myself and the church.
Story ends with me sitting in the office at church chatting about my journey whilst wearing my navy chick version of dockers, girls microfiber trouser socks, and girls loafers and quite comfortable with both myself and the church.
A-thrifting we will go
Saturday, I mentioned to Dee that I really need new Sunday-go-to-meetin' pants and suggested we hit a thrift store. I don't really think either of us really thought that was my primary reason for wanting to go. The baby was in need of a nap, and she suggested there was no reason I couldnt go myself. I pointed out that the problem was I wouldn't be by myself, Barbara the shopaholic would no doubt follow me down the aisles. "Good point," she said and grabed the baby and her purse.
At The Salvation Army, I reluctantly passed the women's tops, skirts, slacks, and clear at the back to the men's pants. That whole store has pretty good prices but not the best organization. They just throw the clothes on the racks in broad categories without regard to size. Ive found better organized loads of clothes in dumpsters!
I was getting frustrated, then settled on a tactic. I would look for fabrics that I liked then quickly eyeball it for size. If it was obviously too big, I'd move on o the next, if it seems close I'd pull it off the rack and dig for a label. This didn't work that well because I guess I just don;t have a very good eye for size. Finally I found a tan pair of Khaki's that looked like a pair I already have with frayed cuffs. I checked the label, size 10! Misfiled. Leave it to Barb to find the chick slacks in the haystack. Next pair was a navy pair of dockers, Size 10!. Amused, I pulled it off the hanger and held it up to my ever-shrinking waistline...it looked about right. I was wearing a long pair of tan, side zip womens shorts in size 12 that I had to wriggle into. The size 12 was roomy for my non-existant hips and snug in the waist.
I think I have mentioned that since the incident of the girl jeans at age 14, I haven't tried anything on. Now it is a fun bit of naughtyness to slip into a dressing room in a store and slither into a skirt or slacks or to slip a dress over my head. Off to the dressing room I go. I put them on and not only do they fit in the waist the inseam fits. I think basically Dockers has a big pile of 32x30 pants and they slap a size 10 label in some and a 32x30 label in others. Other than maybe an extra inch in the hips they hang no differently than menswear. Only the next day when I tried to put keys in my pocket did I detect any difference.
BTW whats up with girl pockets. I get it that chicks don't keep rubber bands, loose change, frogs and the like in their pockets, but why have 'em at all if you are going to short-sheet them?
Dee was in charge of keeping Barbara muffled in her purse where she also had my wallet (NO pockets in the tan chick shorts I was wearing). I rejoined her only to find that she had located a red, polo style, shirt-dress in a flirty length for me, and a peach colored Liz Claiborne top that Barbara assumed was for her but upon inquiring found that Dee had planned it for herself.
It was 1/2 off day and there was a NICE art deco buffet that we have no room for so we passed on a $35 bargain. While Dee waited in line, I walked the baby. I snuck over to womens skirts to fondle some pleats. I royal blue Adidas tennis skirt caught my eye. I thought initially it was an actual cheerleader uniform. It was very well made, and size 10! Confidant (pre-maturely) that I had dieted down to a 10, I grabbed it and handed it without comment to Dee who was in the middle of a very long line. She gave me a tolerant smile but didn't quite suppress the eye roll.
~place holder for the rest of the shopping day~
Flat dress loafers at Goodwill maple dresser for $19 Wing-tip heels
Dress at DI and Schoolgirl plaid for Dee
Sunday peach dress for Dee.
WalMart Fundies for Dee.
At The Salvation Army, I reluctantly passed the women's tops, skirts, slacks, and clear at the back to the men's pants. That whole store has pretty good prices but not the best organization. They just throw the clothes on the racks in broad categories without regard to size. Ive found better organized loads of clothes in dumpsters!
I was getting frustrated, then settled on a tactic. I would look for fabrics that I liked then quickly eyeball it for size. If it was obviously too big, I'd move on o the next, if it seems close I'd pull it off the rack and dig for a label. This didn't work that well because I guess I just don;t have a very good eye for size. Finally I found a tan pair of Khaki's that looked like a pair I already have with frayed cuffs. I checked the label, size 10! Misfiled. Leave it to Barb to find the chick slacks in the haystack. Next pair was a navy pair of dockers, Size 10!. Amused, I pulled it off the hanger and held it up to my ever-shrinking waistline...it looked about right. I was wearing a long pair of tan, side zip womens shorts in size 12 that I had to wriggle into. The size 12 was roomy for my non-existant hips and snug in the waist.
I think I have mentioned that since the incident of the girl jeans at age 14, I haven't tried anything on. Now it is a fun bit of naughtyness to slip into a dressing room in a store and slither into a skirt or slacks or to slip a dress over my head. Off to the dressing room I go. I put them on and not only do they fit in the waist the inseam fits. I think basically Dockers has a big pile of 32x30 pants and they slap a size 10 label in some and a 32x30 label in others. Other than maybe an extra inch in the hips they hang no differently than menswear. Only the next day when I tried to put keys in my pocket did I detect any difference.
BTW whats up with girl pockets. I get it that chicks don't keep rubber bands, loose change, frogs and the like in their pockets, but why have 'em at all if you are going to short-sheet them?
Dee was in charge of keeping Barbara muffled in her purse where she also had my wallet (NO pockets in the tan chick shorts I was wearing). I rejoined her only to find that she had located a red, polo style, shirt-dress in a flirty length for me, and a peach colored Liz Claiborne top that Barbara assumed was for her but upon inquiring found that Dee had planned it for herself.
It was 1/2 off day and there was a NICE art deco buffet that we have no room for so we passed on a $35 bargain. While Dee waited in line, I walked the baby. I snuck over to womens skirts to fondle some pleats. I royal blue Adidas tennis skirt caught my eye. I thought initially it was an actual cheerleader uniform. It was very well made, and size 10! Confidant (pre-maturely) that I had dieted down to a 10, I grabbed it and handed it without comment to Dee who was in the middle of a very long line. She gave me a tolerant smile but didn't quite suppress the eye roll.
~place holder for the rest of the shopping day~
Flat dress loafers at Goodwill maple dresser for $19 Wing-tip heels
Dress at DI and Schoolgirl plaid for Dee
Sunday peach dress for Dee.
WalMart Fundies for Dee.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
A cost / benefit analysis of waxing.
I am smooth again. It feels very nice, and is so much easier to slip into Barbara mode this way.
How I got this way is another story entirely.
I hadn't shaved in about 3 weeks. In my original effort, I had waxed one leg and used Veet on the other. I was intending it as a little experiment to see which lasted longer, how long did each method take, did it get easier or more effective over time, etc etc.
My first time felt amazing. My wife kept teasing me for how often she caught me fondling my calves. Later I needed to touch up and depending on what I had on hand I would Veet, or shave but I was out of the waxing paper. I lost track of what I did when and was finding the cycle of regrowth and removal kept getting out of sync. Even Veet works a little betterif the hair has grown out a bit. I would miss the shorter ones and within a few days they were then long enough to notice.
Partly to get a new starting point and partly because I wasnt feeling so feminine lately with a much reduced urge to dress, I let it grow out for three weeks or so. I wonder now if the growth made me feel less femme or the other way around.
Yesterday, I asked my wife to help with waxing one leg It hurt of course, but it is tolerable. The waxing would go better if either she had a single sadistic bone in her body, or if I was at least a little masochistic.
I had put down an old sheet on the bed, but by the end, she had some purple goo on her hands, a little on our nice 400 thread count linens and some in her hair. The infant had ceased wanting to self entertain in her walker at some point so we hurried trying to get at least one set of hands purple-sticky-free. The little vial ofoil is not enough before I dropped it. Pam cooking spray seemed to work well for solving the stickys, then soap for solving the oilys.
She announced that"I owed her". This, as if having a husband with at least one silky smooth sexy leg wasn't reward enough in and of itself! She wanted me to get creative - in the kitchen. Or she wanted new sheets. I started loadup my pockets for a trip to Mart du Wal for some Veet. She decided that a nap might be reward enough, so I grabbed our highly portable 14.5 lb one year old and headed out.
I have been doing most of the lo-cal cooking on our diets, with the exception of Dee's (***Edit*** ~Montgomery Burn's voice~ Egggscelent) egg beater omelets. I was running out of ideas. I have had a 1/2 finished version of vegetarian lasagna in the fridge and I don;t have the heart to finish it. You see lasagna was my signature dish. And definitely not low calorie. I started working on it as soon as I left home and by 19 or so, this lasagna was so good it would have gotten me laid repeatedly if not for my shyness and general all around virginity.
I got the big 13.5 oz pump bottle of Veet, trying not to remember too vividly the Alyssa Milano pitch for it. There is something unsettling about seeing pretty girls like Sam, Rudy, and Winnie grow up to be sexy. All this goes through my head with my adorable third daughter beaming up at me.
I pass the linens and sale tags catch my eye. A long time ago, when shopping for a comforter, Dee pointed out some cabbage roses she liked and I had said I wouldn't mind, it would be like I was 'visiting' some girly coed's dorm room if we got them. consciously that was the appeal, subconsciously, I think I miss sharing the girly furniture and girly bedspreads of my big sisters room I shared until about age 4. My earliest memories are filled with pretty things. Dee didnt take me up on it then. I saw a nice floral pattern with tans and greens and salmons and grabbed it. $30 for King Size comforter, top and fitted sheets and 4 pillow cases. I love Walmart. Hmm 200 thread count? Well beauty does have to pay a price in comfort. See paragraph one. Whats a little scratchyness (little did I know) for sleeping amoong flowers? We knew better then to install them directly, but we did and Dee has a probably rare Chinese rash now, they are off to the wash today.
So back to shopping, I go past the juniors section...a pause at the cute skorts on clearance. I am gaining confidence, could probably take it up to the changing room and face the nice older ladies puzzlement,With infant in arms? I think not.
Off to groceries. I toy with the idea of a sandwich. Look for the pre-prepared Guacamole which I never thought I would use but with modern processing it isn't bad. Nope they are out. I hate my local Walmart. Sam Walton must roll in his grave. He invented JIT inventory control, but my local one apparently has heard of it. Its never in time there. This morning I went again for 5 items 2 of them they were out of.
I look for fresh avacado, nope none are ripe, especially none of the haphazardly applied with "ripe" labels. Perfect if you want to wait 2 days to ripen, but I got things to do, hair to shed. Besides for 93 cents a piece, I'd rather dive for over ripe ones and trim the bad parts.
Off to frozen foods, somebody makes a lo-cal panini, that seems a waste of money to me, but admittedly they are good. Dee buys them sometimes, So I begin searching when Amy's veggie lasagna catches my eye. 310ish cals, a little more pricey then a penny a calorie, but I grab a couple anyway. (What, you mean other people don't buy food according to the dollar cost per energy unit?? How do they know if a food is worth eating?)
I check out just daring the cashier to notice I am buying a BIG bottle of Veet, 2 diet dinners and new sheets, and not be distracted by the cute kid. Cashier doesn't bite and coos over the kid completely ignoring my Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, knee highs and extremely cute periwinkle size nine Keds. What does a girl have to do to be noticed anyway???
At home the frozen dinner was delicious although I couldn't resist adding some fat-free mozzarella and a pinch of Parmesan, basil. caraway, and oregano to mine. Dee loved the sheets (well not after sleeping on them, but they are pretty!) I loved being really smooth after the veet.
Nor so much though the Veet that strayed onto the freshly waxed leg, nor the gouge I made AGAIN at the crease of my leg with the little scrapper thingy. That hurts!...and I bet even if I do complain, the company is not likely to send Alyssa over to kiss it better.
SO the cost?
$6-7 bucks for the Veet, same for the wax I think.
Sticky fingers - free
New sheets $30
A little pain waxing. A lot of pain getting Veet on tender skin.
Bribe of lunch $7 ish
Feeling smooth - priceless
How I got this way is another story entirely.
I hadn't shaved in about 3 weeks. In my original effort, I had waxed one leg and used Veet on the other. I was intending it as a little experiment to see which lasted longer, how long did each method take, did it get easier or more effective over time, etc etc.
My first time felt amazing. My wife kept teasing me for how often she caught me fondling my calves. Later I needed to touch up and depending on what I had on hand I would Veet, or shave but I was out of the waxing paper. I lost track of what I did when and was finding the cycle of regrowth and removal kept getting out of sync. Even Veet works a little betterif the hair has grown out a bit. I would miss the shorter ones and within a few days they were then long enough to notice.
Partly to get a new starting point and partly because I wasnt feeling so feminine lately with a much reduced urge to dress, I let it grow out for three weeks or so. I wonder now if the growth made me feel less femme or the other way around.
Yesterday, I asked my wife to help with waxing one leg It hurt of course, but it is tolerable. The waxing would go better if either she had a single sadistic bone in her body, or if I was at least a little masochistic.
I had put down an old sheet on the bed, but by the end, she had some purple goo on her hands, a little on our nice 400 thread count linens and some in her hair. The infant had ceased wanting to self entertain in her walker at some point so we hurried trying to get at least one set of hands purple-sticky-free. The little vial ofoil is not enough before I dropped it. Pam cooking spray seemed to work well for solving the stickys, then soap for solving the oilys.
She announced that"I owed her". This, as if having a husband with at least one silky smooth sexy leg wasn't reward enough in and of itself! She wanted me to get creative - in the kitchen. Or she wanted new sheets. I started loadup my pockets for a trip to Mart du Wal for some Veet. She decided that a nap might be reward enough, so I grabbed our highly portable 14.5 lb one year old and headed out.
I have been doing most of the lo-cal cooking on our diets, with the exception of Dee's (***Edit*** ~Montgomery Burn's voice~ Egggscelent) egg beater omelets. I was running out of ideas. I have had a 1/2 finished version of vegetarian lasagna in the fridge and I don;t have the heart to finish it. You see lasagna was my signature dish. And definitely not low calorie. I started working on it as soon as I left home and by 19 or so, this lasagna was so good it would have gotten me laid repeatedly if not for my shyness and general all around virginity.
I got the big 13.5 oz pump bottle of Veet, trying not to remember too vividly the Alyssa Milano pitch for it. There is something unsettling about seeing pretty girls like Sam, Rudy, and Winnie grow up to be sexy. All this goes through my head with my adorable third daughter beaming up at me.
I pass the linens and sale tags catch my eye. A long time ago, when shopping for a comforter, Dee pointed out some cabbage roses she liked and I had said I wouldn't mind, it would be like I was 'visiting' some girly coed's dorm room if we got them. consciously that was the appeal, subconsciously, I think I miss sharing the girly furniture and girly bedspreads of my big sisters room I shared until about age 4. My earliest memories are filled with pretty things. Dee didnt take me up on it then. I saw a nice floral pattern with tans and greens and salmons and grabbed it. $30 for King Size comforter, top and fitted sheets and 4 pillow cases. I love Walmart. Hmm 200 thread count? Well beauty does have to pay a price in comfort. See paragraph one. Whats a little scratchyness (little did I know) for sleeping amoong flowers? We knew better then to install them directly, but we did and Dee has a probably rare Chinese rash now, they are off to the wash today.
So back to shopping, I go past the juniors section...a pause at the cute skorts on clearance. I am gaining confidence, could probably take it up to the changing room and face the nice older ladies puzzlement,With infant in arms? I think not.
Off to groceries. I toy with the idea of a sandwich. Look for the pre-prepared Guacamole which I never thought I would use but with modern processing it isn't bad. Nope they are out. I hate my local Walmart. Sam Walton must roll in his grave. He invented JIT inventory control, but my local one apparently has heard of it. Its never in time there. This morning I went again for 5 items 2 of them they were out of.
I look for fresh avacado, nope none are ripe, especially none of the haphazardly applied with "ripe" labels. Perfect if you want to wait 2 days to ripen, but I got things to do, hair to shed. Besides for 93 cents a piece, I'd rather dive for over ripe ones and trim the bad parts.
Off to frozen foods, somebody makes a lo-cal panini, that seems a waste of money to me, but admittedly they are good. Dee buys them sometimes, So I begin searching when Amy's veggie lasagna catches my eye. 310ish cals, a little more pricey then a penny a calorie, but I grab a couple anyway. (What, you mean other people don't buy food according to the dollar cost per energy unit?? How do they know if a food is worth eating?)
I check out just daring the cashier to notice I am buying a BIG bottle of Veet, 2 diet dinners and new sheets, and not be distracted by the cute kid. Cashier doesn't bite and coos over the kid completely ignoring my Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, knee highs and extremely cute periwinkle size nine Keds. What does a girl have to do to be noticed anyway???
At home the frozen dinner was delicious although I couldn't resist adding some fat-free mozzarella and a pinch of Parmesan, basil. caraway, and oregano to mine. Dee loved the sheets (well not after sleeping on them, but they are pretty!) I loved being really smooth after the veet.
Nor so much though the Veet that strayed onto the freshly waxed leg, nor the gouge I made AGAIN at the crease of my leg with the little scrapper thingy. That hurts!...and I bet even if I do complain, the company is not likely to send Alyssa over to kiss it better.
SO the cost?
$6-7 bucks for the Veet, same for the wax I think.
Sticky fingers - free
New sheets $30
A little pain waxing. A lot of pain getting Veet on tender skin.
Bribe of lunch $7 ish
Feeling smooth - priceless
Monday, August 6, 2007
Dieting a dress size or two improves my manly self image too.
I've been dieting for nearly 3 months. I used to try to gain weight, then watched as every 5 years I started putting on 10 lbs. The first 20 from 125 to 135 ( I am 5'8" and used to run distance) was just fine, I could finally buy male clothes in the men's department off the rack. Not as pleased with the next several blocks of suet around my middle. Ive hit a little over 170 at my peak. I went on my first and really only previous reduction diet a 2-3 years ago, and got down to 155, then convinced myself that any weight I added back was obviously muscle from my occasional yard work, and a vigorous couch sitting. About the time I started playing dress-up recently, I was again near my highest weight. In an effort to see my progress, I set up a backdrop and a camera on a tripod in the garage and took some pictures. I don;t know if the camera adds five pounds or not but if it does it adds it where men carry weight,in the front, and not where women carry weight in the hips. So instead of looking curvy, I just looked like a middle aged dude with a gut in a dress.
I also was buying clothes from the ugly rack at a thrift store because they are 65 cents a piece and I had no eye for sizes. I found that size 14 was tight on me. I browsed and learned and discovered that every time I found something cute it was a size six. Having no idea what a size six weighs, I set a more realistic goal to have the size 14 fit better,and maybe squeeze into a cute size 12 skirt I bought.
My weight was 168 when I drug out a scale to check. I started watching what I ate, not anal retentive about it, but used fat free substitutes if they didn't get fat free from simply being made of sugar, and used lower carbohydrate products as long as they didn't lose carbs by being full of fat. A practical joke I have always wanted to try is to make up some nice looking stickers on the ink jet and slip into the grocery store labeling the C6H1206 as NOW FAT FREE!!! and Suet as ZERO CARBS!!!
The biggest difference I think for me was milk. I've always consumed gallons of it. When I was actively trying to gain weight I went a couple of weeks eating 2 pieces of fried chicken, deep fried potato wedges washed down with I-kid-you-not 1/2 and 1/2. No really affect on my weight so I gave up the effort and went back to whole milk, a necessity for me f I eat anything sweet, or fatty, or salty, or spicy, or well, if I was just thirsty. I was born in Wisconsin, where I only lived for a year or two, but apparently it was enough for the dairy farmers to male an impression. My father even worked at a condensed milk plant. After about 130 lbs I switched to 2% mostly because Dee was watching her weight and it was kind of a compromise between my whole milk and her skim milk. Somewhere I started buying 1% and found that it didn't taste much different than 1%. My last diet, I started drinking Dee's skim milk and have always thought it was healthy and low calorie. I never really bothered with labels and was surprised recently to find that skim milk while being good for those that cant metabolize fat well, is still calories. It has 60-70% of the calories that plain old whole milk does.
The only reason I even found out about the calorie count in milk is that our year old 15 lb infant inherited her fathers inability to gain weight. We read labels and feed her the highest calorie items.(Sweet Potato Souffle, Banana Supreme and peaches and oatmeal in that have 160 cals, 150 and 140ish.) We have fed her soy from birth because she was just to wimpy to nurse, and she seemed to have problems with the first formula we tried. She seems fine with yogurt, so we were going to ease her onto whole milk for the calories.
I have been eating Walmart's version of Special K Red Berry for a while during my diet either for breakfast or when it looks an inappropriate snack is inevitable. I poured out some the other day and then found we were out of skim. I grabbed the whole milk and poured the least amount I could and still feel like my flakes were kissed with the nectar of cows. MMMMM, nirvana, I hadn't had cereal with whole milk in years, Its got more flavor and a much better mouth feel. I grabbed an empty jug out of the recycling and compared labels, whole was obvious more, but I was surprised that skim was as high as it is. For the average person skim probably is a good choice with lots of calcium and protein and vitamin A&D, but I would chug 12 to 16 ozs at a time several times a day. I was probably drinking over 500-600 cals a day that way.
When I realized this, I had already cut way back, but mostly because of the cookie and the milk syndrome. You know - you have 3 cookies and a glass of milk, you either finish the cookies first and still have milk left so you add cookies,or your milk runs out and you get another glass. It was kind of a ritual for me that I had to break. I was drinking mostly water because Dee would slap me if I consumed too many of her diet Dr Peppers and besides I don;t like the aspartame and battery acid that much. I do probably the majority of the grocery shopping and started buying Diet Right orange and Jones Soda Diet Black Cherry, because the have Ssplenda, and I have a sneaky suspicion that when the majors went to Splenda then back to Aspartame, that they found that aspartame was a better seller. I wonder sometimes if Nutrasweet causes cravings, I find that it leaves me thirsty and looking for something sweet and I don't think that is a coincidence. To be fair I have similar feelings about Splenda.
I started drinking soda a lot and found I rarely drank water. During this time my progress towards a girlish figure that had been going well I had dropped 14 lbs slowed then stopped completely, I could NOT break 150, even naked on the scale! I would hover between 152 and 154 most days. I even found no progress on days that I did some physical activities. A couple of days ago I was clearing some more space for sod (as an aside I drove 70 miles o get 23 rolls of sod that was posted on Craigslist at 11pm, thinking it would still be there. 5 of the worst mangiest deadest rolls were left, but I hate to throw anything away so I was putting it down on my slowly progressing backyard.) I had one of my girls bring me a glass of water and she brought me a HUGE carnival glass, had to be more than a quart. I ended up drinking about three of those.
I finally got back to 150 and stayed there. I added water and subtracted soda. I finally hit 149. (of course I was wearing nothing but a blue pair of bikini panties and a smile.) Later I hit 148 for an nice round 20 lb loss. I haven't been back to 150 since.
Dee and I have a friendly rivalry going, It is friendly because she is winning. She says "Bitch!" every time I hit a new mark, and I lovingly utter the same when ever she is bragging a bit about her progress. She has been amazingly diligent, tracks every morsel, avoids everything and she is down 28 lbs. (not including turning the fetus into a bouncing -if light- baby girl.)
I like how I feel. I can hop up into and out of dumpsters with ease again instead of having to muscle my way over. My size 10 suit from Coldwater Creek fits if a bit snug. But the best part is how I feel en homme. I kept kidding myself that now that I could actually put on weight I would lift weights for bulk instead of strength training. I do neither for years. things I don;t like about myself the double chin in the mirror that makes the lower 1/2 of my face look like my father, the hairy round belly, all look better thinner.
I have been having a little crossdressing fun in bits and spurts, but haven't shaved for a couple of weeks because I am out of Veet and I wanted to try waxing again and needed a little length. A little bristle on the legs and chest don't seem as offensive to me these days even when feeling feminine. I just pretend I am a lesbian! ~wink~
I also was buying clothes from the ugly rack at a thrift store because they are 65 cents a piece and I had no eye for sizes. I found that size 14 was tight on me. I browsed and learned and discovered that every time I found something cute it was a size six. Having no idea what a size six weighs, I set a more realistic goal to have the size 14 fit better,and maybe squeeze into a cute size 12 skirt I bought.
My weight was 168 when I drug out a scale to check. I started watching what I ate, not anal retentive about it, but used fat free substitutes if they didn't get fat free from simply being made of sugar, and used lower carbohydrate products as long as they didn't lose carbs by being full of fat. A practical joke I have always wanted to try is to make up some nice looking stickers on the ink jet and slip into the grocery store labeling the C6H1206 as NOW FAT FREE!!! and Suet as ZERO CARBS!!!
The biggest difference I think for me was milk. I've always consumed gallons of it. When I was actively trying to gain weight I went a couple of weeks eating 2 pieces of fried chicken, deep fried potato wedges washed down with I-kid-you-not 1/2 and 1/2. No really affect on my weight so I gave up the effort and went back to whole milk, a necessity for me f I eat anything sweet, or fatty, or salty, or spicy, or well, if I was just thirsty. I was born in Wisconsin, where I only lived for a year or two, but apparently it was enough for the dairy farmers to male an impression. My father even worked at a condensed milk plant. After about 130 lbs I switched to 2% mostly because Dee was watching her weight and it was kind of a compromise between my whole milk and her skim milk. Somewhere I started buying 1% and found that it didn't taste much different than 1%. My last diet, I started drinking Dee's skim milk and have always thought it was healthy and low calorie. I never really bothered with labels and was surprised recently to find that skim milk while being good for those that cant metabolize fat well, is still calories. It has 60-70% of the calories that plain old whole milk does.
The only reason I even found out about the calorie count in milk is that our year old 15 lb infant inherited her fathers inability to gain weight. We read labels and feed her the highest calorie items.(Sweet Potato Souffle, Banana Supreme and peaches and oatmeal in that have 160 cals, 150 and 140ish.) We have fed her soy from birth because she was just to wimpy to nurse, and she seemed to have problems with the first formula we tried. She seems fine with yogurt, so we were going to ease her onto whole milk for the calories.
I have been eating Walmart's version of Special K Red Berry for a while during my diet either for breakfast or when it looks an inappropriate snack is inevitable. I poured out some the other day and then found we were out of skim. I grabbed the whole milk and poured the least amount I could and still feel like my flakes were kissed with the nectar of cows. MMMMM, nirvana, I hadn't had cereal with whole milk in years, Its got more flavor and a much better mouth feel. I grabbed an empty jug out of the recycling and compared labels, whole was obvious more, but I was surprised that skim was as high as it is. For the average person skim probably is a good choice with lots of calcium and protein and vitamin A&D, but I would chug 12 to 16 ozs at a time several times a day. I was probably drinking over 500-600 cals a day that way.
When I realized this, I had already cut way back, but mostly because of the cookie and the milk syndrome. You know - you have 3 cookies and a glass of milk, you either finish the cookies first and still have milk left so you add cookies,or your milk runs out and you get another glass. It was kind of a ritual for me that I had to break. I was drinking mostly water because Dee would slap me if I consumed too many of her diet Dr Peppers and besides I don;t like the aspartame and battery acid that much. I do probably the majority of the grocery shopping and started buying Diet Right orange and Jones Soda Diet Black Cherry, because the have Ssplenda, and I have a sneaky suspicion that when the majors went to Splenda then back to Aspartame, that they found that aspartame was a better seller. I wonder sometimes if Nutrasweet causes cravings, I find that it leaves me thirsty and looking for something sweet and I don't think that is a coincidence. To be fair I have similar feelings about Splenda.
I started drinking soda a lot and found I rarely drank water. During this time my progress towards a girlish figure that had been going well I had dropped 14 lbs slowed then stopped completely, I could NOT break 150, even naked on the scale! I would hover between 152 and 154 most days. I even found no progress on days that I did some physical activities. A couple of days ago I was clearing some more space for sod (as an aside I drove 70 miles o get 23 rolls of sod that was posted on Craigslist at 11pm, thinking it would still be there. 5 of the worst mangiest deadest rolls were left, but I hate to throw anything away so I was putting it down on my slowly progressing backyard.) I had one of my girls bring me a glass of water and she brought me a HUGE carnival glass, had to be more than a quart. I ended up drinking about three of those.
I finally got back to 150 and stayed there. I added water and subtracted soda. I finally hit 149. (of course I was wearing nothing but a blue pair of bikini panties and a smile.) Later I hit 148 for an nice round 20 lb loss. I haven't been back to 150 since.
Dee and I have a friendly rivalry going, It is friendly because she is winning. She says "Bitch!" every time I hit a new mark, and I lovingly utter the same when ever she is bragging a bit about her progress. She has been amazingly diligent, tracks every morsel, avoids everything and she is down 28 lbs. (not including turning the fetus into a bouncing -if light- baby girl.)
I like how I feel. I can hop up into and out of dumpsters with ease again instead of having to muscle my way over. My size 10 suit from Coldwater Creek fits if a bit snug. But the best part is how I feel en homme. I kept kidding myself that now that I could actually put on weight I would lift weights for bulk instead of strength training. I do neither for years. things I don;t like about myself the double chin in the mirror that makes the lower 1/2 of my face look like my father, the hairy round belly, all look better thinner.
I have been having a little crossdressing fun in bits and spurts, but haven't shaved for a couple of weeks because I am out of Veet and I wanted to try waxing again and needed a little length. A little bristle on the legs and chest don't seem as offensive to me these days even when feeling feminine. I just pretend I am a lesbian! ~wink~
Friday, August 3, 2007
He/She, We, et. al.
This entry is a composite of a couple of posts I made in the female to male portion of crossdressers.com
I finally got a handle on pronouns..I think.
AND it was so simple. All I had to do to quit making mistakes (knock on wood) was to quit using the word GUYS and instead use the word BOYS when referring to my BROTHERS on this board.
I found that when I used the term GUYS it has become too non-gender specific. I would lose track of whether I meant:all us guys (GG's MtF an FtM included),us guys that wear dresses,you's guys or whom. I found myself slipping on pronouns and with the pronouns, I found that I made errors in thinking that followed the pronouns. It is interesting how words show ones thoughts and in fact ones use of words tends to guide thoughts like a Judas goat at the head of a sheep's pen.
Someone suggested I could call them anything as long as it was masculine.
I was thinking maybe I'll call American and possibly Canadian Dudes, "BOYS" and those from the UK and Ozzies I'll call "BLOKES" Course then I'd have to go with "GIRLS" For US and Canada, and what, "BIRDS?" for the UK and "SHEILAS: for AU? naw, I could never keep it straight.
I wonder a bit if some of my Freudian slips with you blokes is because of the teasing and it subsequent defensiveness I got for being a little feminine as a boy. In a way, the worst insult in dude mode when young is to be called a girl, girl, or gay (as if the two were even related).
Clearly a GM does a transman no favors by treading lightly at calling a Dude a Dude.
The thing that all the mental gymnastics meant to me after it was all said and done was that it made me think about under what circumstances I would want to be called Ma'am or girl. Funny how I now aspire to recapture whatever the mannerisms and the shape that I had years ago when I was so unmercifully teased about not being masculine enough.
~sings Aerosmith~ Dude, looks like a BLOKE.......
I finally got a handle on pronouns..I think.
AND it was so simple. All I had to do to quit making mistakes (knock on wood) was to quit using the word GUYS and instead use the word BOYS when referring to my BROTHERS on this board.
I found that when I used the term GUYS it has become too non-gender specific. I would lose track of whether I meant:all us guys (GG's MtF an FtM included),us guys that wear dresses,you's guys or whom. I found myself slipping on pronouns and with the pronouns, I found that I made errors in thinking that followed the pronouns. It is interesting how words show ones thoughts and in fact ones use of words tends to guide thoughts like a Judas goat at the head of a sheep's pen.
Someone suggested I could call them anything as long as it was masculine.
I was thinking maybe I'll call American and possibly Canadian Dudes, "BOYS" and those from the UK and Ozzies I'll call "BLOKES" Course then I'd have to go with "GIRLS" For US and Canada, and what, "BIRDS?" for the UK and "SHEILAS: for AU? naw, I could never keep it straight.
I wonder a bit if some of my Freudian slips with you blokes is because of the teasing and it subsequent defensiveness I got for being a little feminine as a boy. In a way, the worst insult in dude mode when young is to be called a girl, girl, or gay (as if the two were even related).
Clearly a GM does a transman no favors by treading lightly at calling a Dude a Dude.
The thing that all the mental gymnastics meant to me after it was all said and done was that it made me think about under what circumstances I would want to be called Ma'am or girl. Funny how I now aspire to recapture whatever the mannerisms and the shape that I had years ago when I was so unmercifully teased about not being masculine enough.
~sings Aerosmith~ Dude, looks like a BLOKE.......
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