Ive got 6 posts up on my new dumpster diving blog. That one will be linked from here but not in reverse. I want to be able to let the kids read that one, so I'll avoid mentioning my little hobby there. So far I've got a couple of recipes up there for using ingredients I have found.
The no-olds barred boudoir blog that Dee and I started has been picked up by one site that steers the occasional random stranger by, but so far only about 25 random strangers have peered in through our curtains. Thats kind of interesting. And no, we won;t be linking that blog for anyone we actually know. In the extemely unlikely event that you are one of the 25 who have seen it, mum's the word, k?
Friday, November 23, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Feeling better still.
Shopping will do that.
Not that it wasn't without its challenges.
Backing up a bit, I was feeling better this morning, then Dee came home. I didn't know what of the below post I wanted to discuss with her. She must have sensed my reticence . Despite the fact that I felt better, that message hadn't yet been transmitted to my visage so she still saw a mopey long face. She said she was worried about me and offered to make me some breakfast which I declined. I then thought better of declining as it just reinforced my sullenness. I went down and talked to her, tried to explain to her what it was about her post that upset me. She offered to take it down, said she should have just journaled privately. I tried and probably failed to convey it isn't that she posted it publicly but the fact that she at least as she wrote it felt that way about me. Anyway I had some malt-o-meal with a few frozen blueberries and Splenda.
She did take down the post. She also mentioned the actual password that I had gotten an email saying she had changed it. That didn't bother me since I hadn't known or cared to know the password previously. I found it interesting that she chose a word that seemed to indicate an interest in some sort of retribution. She insists that I am reading to much into it. As soon as she changes the password to something else I shall post the word and it will be most apparent that there was some sort of Freudian association,and I don't mean just in my mind.
Anyway enough of that.. Any residual hard feelings I had I used up on Chase Bank through the marvelous psychological device of transference. Dee got paid and sent me to the bank with her paycheck and ATM card. I was to make the deposit of the relatively small check and get $40 out for our shopping spree. The MFing bank did not make the funds available until tomorrow. I find this out AFTER I had made the deposit and checked the ATM. They assured me that there is not "HOLD" on the funds, just they are not "AVAILABLE". I fail to see the relevance of this distinction. I had spotted an older Pierre Cardin Couture collection custom suit in my size for $1 and needed to get right back and buy it.
I ended up driving to another city to collect $350 from a client and since there was a Goodwill Store there, I browsed a bit before going back to the one with "my" suit. Of course it was gone. Despite the fact that it had sat available for $1 on Monday and Tuesday unmolested, I spot it turn my back and its gone. :( My second choice was a sport coat worthy of Herb Tarlick that Dee vetoed.
The first Goodwill yielded a woman's all-wool double-breasted jacket that was mis-filed in the mens area that fits me well. I got a plain oatmeal polo shirt by Saks 5th Avenue. I got a woman's blouse with a hood. Not sure about the cut but loved the cerulean blue color. At the site of my great suit disappointment I really got nothing, but Dee met me there and got a cart full of stuff. She did find me a pair of Rockies brand cowgirl jeans. I bought a half dozen Corelle brand mis-matched cereal bowls for 50 cents a piece. They are nice because they are microwave and oven proof.
Nursing a minor headache I am recharging and planning to go out once again to yet another store.
Oh almost forgot. I was also trying to just do SOMETHING anything productive to kick start my day. I decided to gather a bunch of dove-for items that I have only saved with an intention to donate. None of the items were things we needed or would fit anyone now or in the future. I found 3 pairs of jeans, 5 pairs dress pants, a dozen t-shirts, a sweatshirt, a jacket, a couple of CD towers and an overstuffed chair. In the light of day the overstuffed chair looked a little grim. I loaded them all up hanging out of my hatchback and dumped them at Goodwill for a nice tax deductible receipt. The house will be a lot more orderly if I donate something every time we go in to shop.
Not that it wasn't without its challenges.
Backing up a bit, I was feeling better this morning, then Dee came home. I didn't know what of the below post I wanted to discuss with her. She must have sensed my reticence . Despite the fact that I felt better, that message hadn't yet been transmitted to my visage so she still saw a mopey long face. She said she was worried about me and offered to make me some breakfast which I declined. I then thought better of declining as it just reinforced my sullenness. I went down and talked to her, tried to explain to her what it was about her post that upset me. She offered to take it down, said she should have just journaled privately. I tried and probably failed to convey it isn't that she posted it publicly but the fact that she at least as she wrote it felt that way about me. Anyway I had some malt-o-meal with a few frozen blueberries and Splenda.
She did take down the post. She also mentioned the actual password that I had gotten an email saying she had changed it. That didn't bother me since I hadn't known or cared to know the password previously. I found it interesting that she chose a word that seemed to indicate an interest in some sort of retribution. She insists that I am reading to much into it. As soon as she changes the password to something else I shall post the word and it will be most apparent that there was some sort of Freudian association,and I don't mean just in my mind.
Anyway enough of that.. Any residual hard feelings I had I used up on Chase Bank through the marvelous psychological device of transference. Dee got paid and sent me to the bank with her paycheck and ATM card. I was to make the deposit of the relatively small check and get $40 out for our shopping spree. The MFing bank did not make the funds available until tomorrow. I find this out AFTER I had made the deposit and checked the ATM. They assured me that there is not "HOLD" on the funds, just they are not "AVAILABLE". I fail to see the relevance of this distinction. I had spotted an older Pierre Cardin Couture collection custom suit in my size for $1 and needed to get right back and buy it.
I ended up driving to another city to collect $350 from a client and since there was a Goodwill Store there, I browsed a bit before going back to the one with "my" suit. Of course it was gone. Despite the fact that it had sat available for $1 on Monday and Tuesday unmolested, I spot it turn my back and its gone. :( My second choice was a sport coat worthy of Herb Tarlick that Dee vetoed.
The first Goodwill yielded a woman's all-wool double-breasted jacket that was mis-filed in the mens area that fits me well. I got a plain oatmeal polo shirt by Saks 5th Avenue. I got a woman's blouse with a hood. Not sure about the cut but loved the cerulean blue color. At the site of my great suit disappointment I really got nothing, but Dee met me there and got a cart full of stuff. She did find me a pair of Rockies brand cowgirl jeans. I bought a half dozen Corelle brand mis-matched cereal bowls for 50 cents a piece. They are nice because they are microwave and oven proof.
Nursing a minor headache I am recharging and planning to go out once again to yet another store.
Oh almost forgot. I was also trying to just do SOMETHING anything productive to kick start my day. I decided to gather a bunch of dove-for items that I have only saved with an intention to donate. None of the items were things we needed or would fit anyone now or in the future. I found 3 pairs of jeans, 5 pairs dress pants, a dozen t-shirts, a sweatshirt, a jacket, a couple of CD towers and an overstuffed chair. In the light of day the overstuffed chair looked a little grim. I loaded them all up hanging out of my hatchback and dumped them at Goodwill for a nice tax deductible receipt. The house will be a lot more orderly if I donate something every time we go in to shop.
Happiness is....
....a warm cuddly child on a cool morning. Remember those Charles Schulz cartoons featuring Peanuts characters?
It has been so blasted hot this year that I am starting to wonder If I wouldn't have been better off voting for the genius that invented the internet and lives in a several thousand square foot eco-friendly glass house from whence he throws rocks.
Its actually nice to feel chilly finally now that the elusive season of autumn is almost over.
I've been really down the last couple of days. I have been trying (very unsuccessfully) not to appear sullen and petulant. I have a lot on my mind and a lot on my plate. I have a lot of time on my hands and am making poor use of it. Money is a serious ongoing problem with no improvement even imaginable over the horizon. A really good friend of mine from boyhood is in town. He went through a similar financial funk for a while and recently sort of fell into an ideal job paying the most he has ever made for doing what he loves. He has offered his sympathies and a collection of financial self-help CD's. Neither are going to pay for food for 7 people 3 cats, and two dogs. I dreaded his visit to my home yesterday. It went well, he and his newer wife were very gracious and non-judgmental about the hovel I call a home. Given that for all practical purposes I am unemployed I could make more of an effort to clean up after the other creatures I cohabitate with as well as myself. It is such an unbelievable mess. I occasionally will spend several hours trying to make the kitchen conform to UN guidelines for the sanitation of eating facilities in third world countries, but give it a few hours and it is as bad as before. NO one uses any of the 12 to 15 f'ing trash cans ever. Why should they when there are piles of refuse everywhere.
I am upset most of all by an entry on my wifes blog. There she publicly calls bullshit generically speaking on my life,my words, my actions my intentions. We had a rough patch a few days ago, talking only made it worse, we agreed not to talk about it, and I encouraged her to talk to her friends, the world whomever just so she doesn't feel isolated. She objected that if she talks to mutual friends about it it will shame me. I said I don't care. I apparently do. I understand her frustration with me, I truly do. I object mostly to her wanting to know just enough details to give fuel to her imagination, but not enough to put some of her unfounded fears to rest. She emailes, blogged and apparently felt better. Was even apparently somewhat amorous. I felt small that I couldn't reciprocate. That I felt myself pulling away.
On top of all of the above, we had both incurred a huge sleep debt the last couple of weeks. We had spent our Deficit of wakefulness in the most delightful ways, but it was a debt like all others that eventually must be paid. I think I might have settled up on that finally. I arose at what I thought was a little after 5:00 am when the dogs barked at the anal retentive OCD neighbor who must exit his side door every morning making them sound off rather than using his front door. I wasn't ready to kill the dogs this time (the neighbor lives only because I don't want to return to jail.) Turns out the clock that sets itself with some sort of satellite signal, is unaware that my area doesn't follow daylight savings time.
Either way I am not particularly sleepy, but the toddler is. Dee leaves in the morning for a short while to help at her work then comes home for breakfast before leaving again. The toddler s often difficult during that short absence. This morning with the chill she is snuggled up next to me and seemingly feeling me with some of the self-love I seem to lack as of late. It feels, if not like happiness, a little less melancholy.
It has been so blasted hot this year that I am starting to wonder If I wouldn't have been better off voting for the genius that invented the internet and lives in a several thousand square foot eco-friendly glass house from whence he throws rocks.
Its actually nice to feel chilly finally now that the elusive season of autumn is almost over.
I've been really down the last couple of days. I have been trying (very unsuccessfully) not to appear sullen and petulant. I have a lot on my mind and a lot on my plate. I have a lot of time on my hands and am making poor use of it. Money is a serious ongoing problem with no improvement even imaginable over the horizon. A really good friend of mine from boyhood is in town. He went through a similar financial funk for a while and recently sort of fell into an ideal job paying the most he has ever made for doing what he loves. He has offered his sympathies and a collection of financial self-help CD's. Neither are going to pay for food for 7 people 3 cats, and two dogs. I dreaded his visit to my home yesterday. It went well, he and his newer wife were very gracious and non-judgmental about the hovel I call a home. Given that for all practical purposes I am unemployed I could make more of an effort to clean up after the other creatures I cohabitate with as well as myself. It is such an unbelievable mess. I occasionally will spend several hours trying to make the kitchen conform to UN guidelines for the sanitation of eating facilities in third world countries, but give it a few hours and it is as bad as before. NO one uses any of the 12 to 15 f'ing trash cans ever. Why should they when there are piles of refuse everywhere.
I am upset most of all by an entry on my wifes blog. There she publicly calls bullshit generically speaking on my life,my words, my actions my intentions. We had a rough patch a few days ago, talking only made it worse, we agreed not to talk about it, and I encouraged her to talk to her friends, the world whomever just so she doesn't feel isolated. She objected that if she talks to mutual friends about it it will shame me. I said I don't care. I apparently do. I understand her frustration with me, I truly do. I object mostly to her wanting to know just enough details to give fuel to her imagination, but not enough to put some of her unfounded fears to rest. She emailes, blogged and apparently felt better. Was even apparently somewhat amorous. I felt small that I couldn't reciprocate. That I felt myself pulling away.
On top of all of the above, we had both incurred a huge sleep debt the last couple of weeks. We had spent our Deficit of wakefulness in the most delightful ways, but it was a debt like all others that eventually must be paid. I think I might have settled up on that finally. I arose at what I thought was a little after 5:00 am when the dogs barked at the anal retentive OCD neighbor who must exit his side door every morning making them sound off rather than using his front door. I wasn't ready to kill the dogs this time (the neighbor lives only because I don't want to return to jail.) Turns out the clock that sets itself with some sort of satellite signal, is unaware that my area doesn't follow daylight savings time.
Either way I am not particularly sleepy, but the toddler is. Dee leaves in the morning for a short while to help at her work then comes home for breakfast before leaving again. The toddler s often difficult during that short absence. This morning with the chill she is snuggled up next to me and seemingly feeling me with some of the self-love I seem to lack as of late. It feels, if not like happiness, a little less melancholy.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Thinking of starting another trashy blog...
I have mentioned in online vanilla communities as well as here that I am fascinated by what people throw away. It appeals to my voyeur side, my thrifty side, my adaptive talents in re-purposing other's discards.
I have often thought it would be fun to keep track of the approximate retail value of what it is I find, maybe take a few pictures. I enjoy doing it even when I have no need financially to do so. In fact I am more likely to do so if it isn't a needful thing, I have nothing against those that do subsistence diving and have done so myself. Wen I am out lurking in the night and on the rare occasion I see another diver, I often try to discern whether they are a for profit salvage expert or someone just down on their luck. If the former I will swoop in ahead of them and feel no pangs of conscience in leaving the cupboard bare. If I see signs that someone else is frequenting the same dumpster I visit, I will set aside things that I don't need in a place they will see on their visit.
Lately it has been a subsistence thing for me. Business is non-existent. I was renegotiating the repayment of my mortgage with a couple of different reps at my mortgage holder's servicing agent. They found my estimate for groceries and sundries for 7 persons to be unrealistically low. It was in fact higher than I actually spend.
I am a supremely competent scrounge. I can find just about anything if I have the motivation to find it. Most people I relate this too, are a bit incredulous and envision the process to be much less pleasant than it actually is. There are dumpsters to avoid and dumpsters that are not often fruitful bit there are those that pay off like a gamblers dream of a broken slot machine.
Sometimes it is very predictable which will pay and which will not. I used to avoid the dollar store dumpster for example. If I don't want most of the stuff inside, why would I want the knick-knacks after they are chipped and broken and thrown out? I changed my mind one night years ago when I pulled 35 brand new Duncan brand yo-yo's still in the packaging.
Last night I was visiting the dumpster I consider my green grocer behind Safeway. I don't know if all Safeway's are this way, or if the affluence of the area is a factor, but they are very choosy about their produce. If an apple is too large or two small or misshapen much less bird-pecked it is culled. Anything even close to over-ripe is tossed. I find better produce in their dumpster than I can get INSIDE the produce departments of many other stores. The 18 wheeler was idling there so I cruised on by and hit the dollar store dumpster. I call it "neighbor trash" when people ignore the "no tresspassing" and "no dumping" signs and risk a $500 fine to illegally dispose of things behind stores. Somebody had 1/2 filled the otherwise nearly empty dumpster. I almost found out the hard way that some of it was a large plastic planter filled with glass shards. The kids regular ignore my threats of bodily harm and make off with my dive light. I was diving by the very bright display back light of my Motorolla blue-tooth enabled camera phone. The blue tooth I use less often then the glow of the screen.
After I negotiated my way into the dumpster safely I was able to see by the glow the labels on the cans. It turns out someone had thrown away 59 size #10 cans of long term food storage. I got flour, sugar, dried apples, rice, powdered milk and 2 gallons of canola oil. Once the semi-truck left and I got a 1/2 bushel of limes and a box of mixed apples, pomegranates and bananas.
Tonight I baked 4 loaves of very good white bread using nothing purchased but the yeast. I even sliced the bread with a bread knife that I got from one of my end-of-the-month apartment dumpster forays. Sliced bread really is the best thing.
I took a picture of the bounty for last night and had in mind I would cut and paste this entry for the post on the new diving log blog if I ever get around to starting it.
I have often thought it would be fun to keep track of the approximate retail value of what it is I find, maybe take a few pictures. I enjoy doing it even when I have no need financially to do so. In fact I am more likely to do so if it isn't a needful thing, I have nothing against those that do subsistence diving and have done so myself. Wen I am out lurking in the night and on the rare occasion I see another diver, I often try to discern whether they are a for profit salvage expert or someone just down on their luck. If the former I will swoop in ahead of them and feel no pangs of conscience in leaving the cupboard bare. If I see signs that someone else is frequenting the same dumpster I visit, I will set aside things that I don't need in a place they will see on their visit.
Lately it has been a subsistence thing for me. Business is non-existent. I was renegotiating the repayment of my mortgage with a couple of different reps at my mortgage holder's servicing agent. They found my estimate for groceries and sundries for 7 persons to be unrealistically low. It was in fact higher than I actually spend.
I am a supremely competent scrounge. I can find just about anything if I have the motivation to find it. Most people I relate this too, are a bit incredulous and envision the process to be much less pleasant than it actually is. There are dumpsters to avoid and dumpsters that are not often fruitful bit there are those that pay off like a gamblers dream of a broken slot machine.
Sometimes it is very predictable which will pay and which will not. I used to avoid the dollar store dumpster for example. If I don't want most of the stuff inside, why would I want the knick-knacks after they are chipped and broken and thrown out? I changed my mind one night years ago when I pulled 35 brand new Duncan brand yo-yo's still in the packaging.
Last night I was visiting the dumpster I consider my green grocer behind Safeway. I don't know if all Safeway's are this way, or if the affluence of the area is a factor, but they are very choosy about their produce. If an apple is too large or two small or misshapen much less bird-pecked it is culled. Anything even close to over-ripe is tossed. I find better produce in their dumpster than I can get INSIDE the produce departments of many other stores. The 18 wheeler was idling there so I cruised on by and hit the dollar store dumpster. I call it "neighbor trash" when people ignore the "no tresspassing" and "no dumping" signs and risk a $500 fine to illegally dispose of things behind stores. Somebody had 1/2 filled the otherwise nearly empty dumpster. I almost found out the hard way that some of it was a large plastic planter filled with glass shards. The kids regular ignore my threats of bodily harm and make off with my dive light. I was diving by the very bright display back light of my Motorolla blue-tooth enabled camera phone. The blue tooth I use less often then the glow of the screen.
After I negotiated my way into the dumpster safely I was able to see by the glow the labels on the cans. It turns out someone had thrown away 59 size #10 cans of long term food storage. I got flour, sugar, dried apples, rice, powdered milk and 2 gallons of canola oil. Once the semi-truck left and I got a 1/2 bushel of limes and a box of mixed apples, pomegranates and bananas.
Tonight I baked 4 loaves of very good white bread using nothing purchased but the yeast. I even sliced the bread with a bread knife that I got from one of my end-of-the-month apartment dumpster forays. Sliced bread really is the best thing.
I took a picture of the bounty for last night and had in mind I would cut and paste this entry for the post on the new diving log blog if I ever get around to starting it.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Cat hasn't got my tongue...
I have been typing at about the same several thousand word a week pace, its just that well, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'll just come out and say it. There is someone else.
I think I mentioned previously that Dirty Filthy Princess' Blog inspired me to ask Dee to resurrect her short-lived sexblog. She did and we have been writing more explicitly there, together. It has been to say the least interesting. We have already had 19 visitors even though we have told NO ONE of its existence. It is nice to have a no-holds-barred place to write salaciously.
Whether it is lief following art of the other way around, things have gotten well sort of more adventurous. This is all good and fun,but we made plans last night to be a little more typically vanilla. This is relevant here because it was dressing related. Dee insists that the presence of two pairs of panties in the scene violated the vanilla label, but I see it as just a reminder that a softer approach was planned. However those plans went in each of our minds we found a comfortable and very enjoyable place, in a softer but non-vanilla place. Maybe more akin to soft-serve vanilla/strawberry swirl of fat-free frozen yogurt....
I think I mentioned previously that Dirty Filthy Princess' Blog inspired me to ask Dee to resurrect her short-lived sexblog. She did and we have been writing more explicitly there, together. It has been to say the least interesting. We have already had 19 visitors even though we have told NO ONE of its existence. It is nice to have a no-holds-barred place to write salaciously.
Whether it is lief following art of the other way around, things have gotten well sort of more adventurous. This is all good and fun,but we made plans last night to be a little more typically vanilla. This is relevant here because it was dressing related. Dee insists that the presence of two pairs of panties in the scene violated the vanilla label, but I see it as just a reminder that a softer approach was planned. However those plans went in each of our minds we found a comfortable and very enjoyable place, in a softer but non-vanilla place. Maybe more akin to soft-serve vanilla/strawberry swirl of fat-free frozen yogurt....
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I now have the NUMBER ONE blog....
...according to Google for anyone searching blogs for the phrase "drivers license weight". THats right NUmero Uno~!
Oddly, my post on the subject of October 3th was only tangentially on topic for the theme of my blog. I felt kind of guilty because the number two entry was more recent (October 5th) and on a blog that actually is about dieting. Felt kind of bad, like a usurper to the throne.
The individual actually stayed and read for 6 minutes, which is kind of unusual since although there are guys and gals that dig a dude in a dress, thats really not who one expects to bump into in the course of the day.
Try this - at lunch today at some chain fast food place, stare at the door and try to imagine that the next guy through the door is wearing panties underneath his Dickie's work pants. Weird, no? or what if that chick with the long hair, sunglasses, athletic hips is actually a guy. Its one thing to go to a gay bar on drag night, but looking for recipes, and finding out maybe for the first time that there are straight married crossdressers would be at the least, disconcerting I would think.
On the subject of Drivers License Weight, both Dee and I do not have the correct weight on our licenses. Interestingly, we both claim a weight of 150. Neither of us measure UP to that standard. As I stated previously, my license weight on the license before this one was 135. At the time it was a hopeful ideal that some day with enough protein powder and weightlifting I could gain that next 20-25 lbs. At my most recent nadir of weight..(Apogee of weight loss) of 131 I'm fine with my weight. I'd like a more toned midsection, but apparently not enough to actually do the crunches. I wouldn't mind adjustable clavicles and rib cage to get my manly frame into a more proportionate dress size, but over all I think I am at the ideal size to skip back and forth across the no-man's land between the masculine and the feminine.
Plaid shirt, snug jeans,work boots and a days scruff, and I am like Ron White would say a "Manly Man". A sleeveless blouse, even tighter jeans (tucked), sensible heels, a close shave, some foundation, blush, lipstick, eyeliner, eyeshadow, a wigs and 'Voila!' I am a girly gurl. It sure is more trouble to be a girl though. Probably why nearly all of these entries have been composes "En Homme"
Oddly, my post on the subject of October 3th was only tangentially on topic for the theme of my blog. I felt kind of guilty because the number two entry was more recent (October 5th) and on a blog that actually is about dieting. Felt kind of bad, like a usurper to the throne.
The individual actually stayed and read for 6 minutes, which is kind of unusual since although there are guys and gals that dig a dude in a dress, thats really not who one expects to bump into in the course of the day.
Try this - at lunch today at some chain fast food place, stare at the door and try to imagine that the next guy through the door is wearing panties underneath his Dickie's work pants. Weird, no? or what if that chick with the long hair, sunglasses, athletic hips is actually a guy. Its one thing to go to a gay bar on drag night, but looking for recipes, and finding out maybe for the first time that there are straight married crossdressers would be at the least, disconcerting I would think.
On the subject of Drivers License Weight, both Dee and I do not have the correct weight on our licenses. Interestingly, we both claim a weight of 150. Neither of us measure UP to that standard. As I stated previously, my license weight on the license before this one was 135. At the time it was a hopeful ideal that some day with enough protein powder and weightlifting I could gain that next 20-25 lbs. At my most recent nadir of weight..(Apogee of weight loss) of 131 I'm fine with my weight. I'd like a more toned midsection, but apparently not enough to actually do the crunches. I wouldn't mind adjustable clavicles and rib cage to get my manly frame into a more proportionate dress size, but over all I think I am at the ideal size to skip back and forth across the no-man's land between the masculine and the feminine.
Plaid shirt, snug jeans,work boots and a days scruff, and I am like Ron White would say a "Manly Man". A sleeveless blouse, even tighter jeans (tucked), sensible heels, a close shave, some foundation, blush, lipstick, eyeliner, eyeshadow, a wigs and 'Voila!' I am a girly gurl. It sure is more trouble to be a girl though. Probably why nearly all of these entries have been composes "En Homme"
s
This post was started by our toddler. She has incredibly quick hands and has had a laptop within reach for her entire life. She loves to lash out and hit random keys.
She and I have an understanding. She IS allowed to incessantly press the mute button and the volume buttons on the side of the laptop. She likes to make the little toddler sized button light up and go out as she presses it. Give her an inch though...
She hits odd sequences of keys and brings up help screens and odd windows that I never before knew existed. This little genius excels at discovering hot keys. She, stuck in the middle of the bed cannot reach the right half of the keyboard to hit the enter key before I can administer a swat to her little hand. some how she typed a sequence of 4-5 keys that entered the "s" and hit publish post.
Her two older sisters I nicknamed persistent and irrepressible. The oldest seems to always strive to stay sunny in her effort find yet another way to still get what it is that she wants to do thus irrepressible. The middle one is an evil genius and from a young age never ever accepted no for an answer. She seemed to have an unlimited pain threshold, and would just glower at you if discipline was attempted. This one is by far more difficult than any of the other kids. TO top it off she is tiny, most likely will be considered technically a little person. As I understand it an adult under 4'10" qualifies. She is just not that interested in nourishment and is short as well. She looks like a little cherub. An evil evil cherub. There's a reason these frightening creatures are used to guard the entrance to the Garden of Eden. WHo would dare pass them.
I gotta go, she is , as we speak, one-by-one, removing each wipe from the box and throwing them to the four winds. The cat, buried under a pile of wet wipes is less amused than I.
She and I have an understanding. She IS allowed to incessantly press the mute button and the volume buttons on the side of the laptop. She likes to make the little toddler sized button light up and go out as she presses it. Give her an inch though...
She hits odd sequences of keys and brings up help screens and odd windows that I never before knew existed. This little genius excels at discovering hot keys. She, stuck in the middle of the bed cannot reach the right half of the keyboard to hit the enter key before I can administer a swat to her little hand. some how she typed a sequence of 4-5 keys that entered the "s" and hit publish post.
Her two older sisters I nicknamed persistent and irrepressible. The oldest seems to always strive to stay sunny in her effort find yet another way to still get what it is that she wants to do thus irrepressible. The middle one is an evil genius and from a young age never ever accepted no for an answer. She seemed to have an unlimited pain threshold, and would just glower at you if discipline was attempted. This one is by far more difficult than any of the other kids. TO top it off she is tiny, most likely will be considered technically a little person. As I understand it an adult under 4'10" qualifies. She is just not that interested in nourishment and is short as well. She looks like a little cherub. An evil evil cherub. There's a reason these frightening creatures are used to guard the entrance to the Garden of Eden. WHo would dare pass them.
I gotta go, she is , as we speak, one-by-one, removing each wipe from the box and throwing them to the four winds. The cat, buried under a pile of wet wipes is less amused than I.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Reminder of the serious nature of transphobic reactions.
Last Thursday, I was minding my own business, as I recall dressed en homme over and under other than maybe some femme jeans.
I heard some incredible bigotry coming out of my radio as some local Disc Jockeys went on about their revulsion with "sick" or "mentally ill" or having a "mental disorder" speaking specifically about "those kind of people" referring to a local transwoman semi-reluctant activist as "it".
Had those statements been made about Blacks, Jews, or Gays, they would be fired.
Mostly they just displayed their ignorance. I mean that literally as one who has not learned the basics of a subject and really don;t know even what it is that they don;t know.
Some of the things they said included:
"We used to have attics we could like crazy relatives like that up in."
(joking after the sidekick expressed sincerely that trans persons should have 'thier own place to go') "I am not advocating Nazi round-up like my associate here, I don;t want to put them on their own island or anything."
Many comments about how genitals dictate which bathroom one uses always.
Their rant was brought out by a picture of a transperson in an attractive dress and pose. They stated that a GG in such sexy presentation would draw fire as being too sexy for a local newspapers magazine insert. I went to the paper's online publication and scrolled down to the comments on various trans related articles of late.
The vitriol was visceral. Including one from a self identified gay (cis male) reader. He felt that the "trannies" should just drop it and find their own place or use the separate (just added) bathroom.
As I searched and read and followed links through the gay community I was astounded at the level of bigotry and hatred from gays for transgendered persons. Not all of course, but those that did express revulsion did it with at least the fervor of what you'd find in the average fundamentalist Christian congregation towards gays for example.
I get that when gay men do drag performance to mock GG's (that they don't of course find sexually desirable) that it is camp and fun and vaguely misogynistic. I never thought they in some cases would be so transphobic themselves. I don;t prefer to see a hot GG in dumpy overalls any more than they like seeing a handsome slender man in a dress, but I don't find a girl in drab disgusting or cause for revulsion.
My reading took me away from the insulated world of crossdressers discussing cute clothes and into the rough and manly in a contrived sort of way of the comments sections on some otherwise thoughtful posts in the homo-blogger community. This week the amputation of the T in GLB-T in the pending employment discrimination legislation ( ENDA ). This I had been neutral about not because I agree with leaving those with alternate gender expression behind, but because it doesn't matter to me personally. I have no intention of presenting in a public way in a manner that would likely lead to discrimination in my self employed workplace. What brought home to me their disgust with gender-queer issues was that they seemed not to care at all about their gay and lesbian and bisexual brothers and siters who present in any other way than the CIS (as you were born) way. Their attitude seemed to be, who cares about drag queens and the bull dykes. They are on the fringe and not worthy of our love and support since they only bring down the image that CIS presenting gays want to present.
Good that came of this is I am seriously rethinking any plans I have and to patronize or provide background entertainment for a local gay bar. It also has led to a desire to be more up to date and informed on the broader world of GBL and Separately T. Ironic really because one of the things that kept me closeted for 38 years is it seemed "gay" to wear women's nylons. Only when i finally got my mind around the fact that gays like manly expression and that gender and orientation are really not even connected was I able to come out to my wife to such wonderful results. I was working hard to put aside my learned and maybe in-bred prejudices about the gay community and to see all persons as worth knowing. Now I am thinking I fit in at a gay bar as much as a lovely monogamous gay couple belongs sitting next to me in church.
As a white guy, Ive never had trouble finding persons of color in my circle of friends and laugh at the idea that having a "black friend" insulates one from charges of bigotry. I could really use a "gay friend" about now. He would make a good beard. I actually do have a number of gay and bi friends. The problem is they are all crossdressers and most are a bit confused about their orientation so I'm not sure I get to "count" them.
I hadn't figured out where to fit these into this entry so in no particular order this post was inspired by 98 KUPD mid morning, AZCentral.com, joe.my.god his comments section on a post, and a nice response on joe.my.god's by maine gay.
I heard some incredible bigotry coming out of my radio as some local Disc Jockeys went on about their revulsion with "sick" or "mentally ill" or having a "mental disorder" speaking specifically about "those kind of people" referring to a local transwoman semi-reluctant activist as "it".
Had those statements been made about Blacks, Jews, or Gays, they would be fired.
Mostly they just displayed their ignorance. I mean that literally as one who has not learned the basics of a subject and really don;t know even what it is that they don;t know.
Some of the things they said included:
"We used to have attics we could like crazy relatives like that up in."
(joking after the sidekick expressed sincerely that trans persons should have 'thier own place to go') "I am not advocating Nazi round-up like my associate here, I don;t want to put them on their own island or anything."
Many comments about how genitals dictate which bathroom one uses always.
Their rant was brought out by a picture of a transperson in an attractive dress and pose. They stated that a GG in such sexy presentation would draw fire as being too sexy for a local newspapers magazine insert. I went to the paper's online publication and scrolled down to the comments on various trans related articles of late.
The vitriol was visceral. Including one from a self identified gay (cis male) reader. He felt that the "trannies" should just drop it and find their own place or use the separate (just added) bathroom.
As I searched and read and followed links through the gay community I was astounded at the level of bigotry and hatred from gays for transgendered persons. Not all of course, but those that did express revulsion did it with at least the fervor of what you'd find in the average fundamentalist Christian congregation towards gays for example.
I get that when gay men do drag performance to mock GG's (that they don't of course find sexually desirable) that it is camp and fun and vaguely misogynistic. I never thought they in some cases would be so transphobic themselves. I don;t prefer to see a hot GG in dumpy overalls any more than they like seeing a handsome slender man in a dress, but I don't find a girl in drab disgusting or cause for revulsion.
My reading took me away from the insulated world of crossdressers discussing cute clothes and into the rough and manly in a contrived sort of way of the comments sections on some otherwise thoughtful posts in the homo-blogger community. This week the amputation of the T in GLB-T in the pending employment discrimination legislation ( ENDA ). This I had been neutral about not because I agree with leaving those with alternate gender expression behind, but because it doesn't matter to me personally. I have no intention of presenting in a public way in a manner that would likely lead to discrimination in my self employed workplace. What brought home to me their disgust with gender-queer issues was that they seemed not to care at all about their gay and lesbian and bisexual brothers and siters who present in any other way than the CIS (as you were born) way. Their attitude seemed to be, who cares about drag queens and the bull dykes. They are on the fringe and not worthy of our love and support since they only bring down the image that CIS presenting gays want to present.
Good that came of this is I am seriously rethinking any plans I have and to patronize or provide background entertainment for a local gay bar. It also has led to a desire to be more up to date and informed on the broader world of GBL and Separately T. Ironic really because one of the things that kept me closeted for 38 years is it seemed "gay" to wear women's nylons. Only when i finally got my mind around the fact that gays like manly expression and that gender and orientation are really not even connected was I able to come out to my wife to such wonderful results. I was working hard to put aside my learned and maybe in-bred prejudices about the gay community and to see all persons as worth knowing. Now I am thinking I fit in at a gay bar as much as a lovely monogamous gay couple belongs sitting next to me in church.
As a white guy, Ive never had trouble finding persons of color in my circle of friends and laugh at the idea that having a "black friend" insulates one from charges of bigotry. I could really use a "gay friend" about now. He would make a good beard. I actually do have a number of gay and bi friends. The problem is they are all crossdressers and most are a bit confused about their orientation so I'm not sure I get to "count" them.
I hadn't figured out where to fit these into this entry so in no particular order this post was inspired by 98 KUPD mid morning, AZCentral.com, joe.my.god his comments section on a post, and a nice response on joe.my.god's by maine gay.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Just traded most of my crossdressing wardrobe away...
..in exchange for a well dressed wife. I know, I know, when you think drag queen you think sequins and feathers and spandex..Oh My!
In truth I have been asking her help and advice putting together skirts and blouses which dresses flatter, and so forth. So, really I was shopping to her taste anyway. In a way it is my taste too because I always liked the way she put herself together.
Once, a few months and many pounds ago,I was trying to do some more self-less shopping. I bought a skirt or two for me,but was concentrating on finding flattering clothes for Dee. It was a real eye-opener about the lack of cute clothes for larger sized girls. It was impossible. Aisle after aisle, shapeless garments. Not even interesting fabrics or textures or colors. It is like the whole point of clothing after about size 12 and certainly after size 14 is strictly camouflage. "Hide me!" the clothes scream.
Down now sixty lbs and within 12 lbs of my weight, Dee has slithered her hips into most of my wardrobe. Some of my early purchases are a little loose on her and the rest is within sight.
I inhaled into a couple of pairs of low-rise size 6 jeans that I feel confident her curves will not fit into, but I thought that about the size 10 suit!
I am torn, on the one hand I feel naked in my own closet. On the other hand she looks hot. I'm Ok with that.
In truth I have been asking her help and advice putting together skirts and blouses which dresses flatter, and so forth. So, really I was shopping to her taste anyway. In a way it is my taste too because I always liked the way she put herself together.
Once, a few months and many pounds ago,I was trying to do some more self-less shopping. I bought a skirt or two for me,but was concentrating on finding flattering clothes for Dee. It was a real eye-opener about the lack of cute clothes for larger sized girls. It was impossible. Aisle after aisle, shapeless garments. Not even interesting fabrics or textures or colors. It is like the whole point of clothing after about size 12 and certainly after size 14 is strictly camouflage. "Hide me!" the clothes scream.
Down now sixty lbs and within 12 lbs of my weight, Dee has slithered her hips into most of my wardrobe. Some of my early purchases are a little loose on her and the rest is within sight.
I inhaled into a couple of pairs of low-rise size 6 jeans that I feel confident her curves will not fit into, but I thought that about the size 10 suit!
I am torn, on the one hand I feel naked in my own closet. On the other hand she looks hot. I'm Ok with that.
Shoes...Let's get some shoes...
This morning Dee tried on the dove-for heels and found they are 8.5 wide and are too big. If anything they are too big for me also but in a pinch they'll do. I'm pretty sure that takes me to well over 40 pairs just since May. Also this morning Dee found that two pairs of her heels are to loose because of her dieting. A little stretching and maybe I score two more to the Barbara column. Yes, it is a contest.
We need a bigger closet. Ironic since I am spending less time "in the closet" so to speak.
We need a bigger closet. Ironic since I am spending less time "in the closet" so to speak.
Peppers, pickled and not.
I am feeling better.
I had some work to do. Work is good, it gives me a sense of purpose. Wasn't sure I could arise form the funk to do it, but needed to. I decided to just begin, nibble away at it and see what happened. I did some research, sent it to the print que, didn't bother to go down and plug it in. Someone needs to send me one of those wifi printers to test like the vibrators they send to sex-bloggers...
Anyway, Dee wanted to shop. We have no money but I did see last week some brand new size 11 Doc Martin's I want to get for my brother-in-law to say thanks for letting me crash at his place when I was laying low from Roscoe and Cletus awaiting my job interview. Saturdays is often 50% of day so we had planned to go back and nab them. We were too late :(
I wasn't feeling like spending any money, but I had fun. I tried on two dresses that will be $1 next Thursday according to their tag color they were 1/2 of of $14.99 and $24.99 respectively today. I had worn pantyhose under my jeans and tucked so it made the changing room mirror slightly less ridiculous. Still the fits weren't optimal,but one had a cute gathered hemline which was brief enough to be interesting. I found a pair of men styled loafers but with pointy toes and 3" slightly thick heels. I put them on and clomped across the entire store, keeping a rack of clothes between me and the other patrons to show Dee. She smiled not so much at the shoes but my obvious ploy for attention and the risky outing myself behavior. I found them comfortable, and should have bought them for $5 but I put them back. Later at home Dee tells me that an older lady definitely did notice my antics and was mouth agape over it. She was probably just in wonderment at how well they went with my black boot cut Calvin Klein stretch jeans.
Almost bought some Donny Osmond style purple socks, but Dee wasn't as turned on by them as I expected so I put them back.
We ran into an old friend in the parking lot. Reading between the lines of his use of we and us,we figured out he and his wife had overcome the divorce and apparently were back together..hope springs eternal. He knows of my diving habits. In fact he is the very friend who once loaned me his copy of Hoffman's "The Art and Science of Dumpster Diving" which turned me hard-core militant about the sport. I told him about the 36 dove-for plastic pumpkins I was planning on donating to Goodwill for the tax write-off and the 20% off on your next purchase of $10 or more.
Next stop: we went to the house to be auctioned that a client had asked me to render an opinion about, I gathered some details and then off to the next Goodwill.
Here I found 4 Corelle bowls and an A&W Root Bear mug, one trip to the freezer away from being frosty.
I came home, took a nap...had to get up for a charitable assignment I understood to involve setting up or possibly taking down chairs. Turns out it was moving 40' long solid oak church pews that had been removed temporarily to make way for an orchestra. Much heavier than folding chairs as it turned out. My new 132 lb frame made it more obvious that I wasn't holding up my end so to speak and some more burly types stepped in cheerfully and without shame to assist. Good bunch of guys.
This for reasons that escape me had to be done at 9:30 pm. My night-owl 12 year old daughter wanted to go with. Afterwards, we did a little subsistence diving consisting of some 6" across tomatoes, some apples on steroids, so Lilliputian potatoes, some sweet potatoes some bread stuffs and a 1/2 peck of un-pickled peppers.
After sorting,cleaning and discarding, we had a couple of fruit boxes that needed to go back to a dumpster so as not to load up our home receptacles. I was going to dump them at the church, but when the 12 year old jumped in the van primed for adventure, I decided to take her for some recreational diving. Interestingly, the very first apartment complex dumpster we hit had a box of girly stuff in it that she liked and topically a bottle of pickled cucumbers, sans the juice. Squealing with delight she divided the booty more or less fairly in piles of things for the less girly 10 year old and the 8 year old boy. We got a industrial quality mop bucket with wringer I actually did want that, the grocery store version we have is shite. We got 4 pairs of heels in Dee's size. Included in the bounty were bracelets, necklaces and a piggy bank with two gold coin chocolates and an actual US 50 cent piece. Theres a Fiddy cent I can appreciate. In one dumpster I say an actual gallon jar of pickled peppers. Pepperoncinis to be precise.
All in all a productive day that might as likely ended with me typing how I hadn't gotten out of bed at all.
I had some work to do. Work is good, it gives me a sense of purpose. Wasn't sure I could arise form the funk to do it, but needed to. I decided to just begin, nibble away at it and see what happened. I did some research, sent it to the print que, didn't bother to go down and plug it in. Someone needs to send me one of those wifi printers to test like the vibrators they send to sex-bloggers...
Anyway, Dee wanted to shop. We have no money but I did see last week some brand new size 11 Doc Martin's I want to get for my brother-in-law to say thanks for letting me crash at his place when I was laying low from Roscoe and Cletus awaiting my job interview. Saturdays is often 50% of day so we had planned to go back and nab them. We were too late :(
I wasn't feeling like spending any money, but I had fun. I tried on two dresses that will be $1 next Thursday according to their tag color they were 1/2 of of $14.99 and $24.99 respectively today. I had worn pantyhose under my jeans and tucked so it made the changing room mirror slightly less ridiculous. Still the fits weren't optimal,but one had a cute gathered hemline which was brief enough to be interesting. I found a pair of men styled loafers but with pointy toes and 3" slightly thick heels. I put them on and clomped across the entire store, keeping a rack of clothes between me and the other patrons to show Dee. She smiled not so much at the shoes but my obvious ploy for attention and the risky outing myself behavior. I found them comfortable, and should have bought them for $5 but I put them back. Later at home Dee tells me that an older lady definitely did notice my antics and was mouth agape over it. She was probably just in wonderment at how well they went with my black boot cut Calvin Klein stretch jeans.
Almost bought some Donny Osmond style purple socks, but Dee wasn't as turned on by them as I expected so I put them back.
We ran into an old friend in the parking lot. Reading between the lines of his use of we and us,we figured out he and his wife had overcome the divorce and apparently were back together..hope springs eternal. He knows of my diving habits. In fact he is the very friend who once loaned me his copy of Hoffman's "The Art and Science of Dumpster Diving" which turned me hard-core militant about the sport. I told him about the 36 dove-for plastic pumpkins I was planning on donating to Goodwill for the tax write-off and the 20% off on your next purchase of $10 or more.
Next stop: we went to the house to be auctioned that a client had asked me to render an opinion about, I gathered some details and then off to the next Goodwill.
Here I found 4 Corelle bowls and an A&W Root Bear mug, one trip to the freezer away from being frosty.
I came home, took a nap...had to get up for a charitable assignment I understood to involve setting up or possibly taking down chairs. Turns out it was moving 40' long solid oak church pews that had been removed temporarily to make way for an orchestra. Much heavier than folding chairs as it turned out. My new 132 lb frame made it more obvious that I wasn't holding up my end so to speak and some more burly types stepped in cheerfully and without shame to assist. Good bunch of guys.
This for reasons that escape me had to be done at 9:30 pm. My night-owl 12 year old daughter wanted to go with. Afterwards, we did a little subsistence diving consisting of some 6" across tomatoes, some apples on steroids, so Lilliputian potatoes, some sweet potatoes some bread stuffs and a 1/2 peck of un-pickled peppers.
After sorting,cleaning and discarding, we had a couple of fruit boxes that needed to go back to a dumpster so as not to load up our home receptacles. I was going to dump them at the church, but when the 12 year old jumped in the van primed for adventure, I decided to take her for some recreational diving. Interestingly, the very first apartment complex dumpster we hit had a box of girly stuff in it that she liked and topically a bottle of pickled cucumbers, sans the juice. Squealing with delight she divided the booty more or less fairly in piles of things for the less girly 10 year old and the 8 year old boy. We got a industrial quality mop bucket with wringer I actually did want that, the grocery store version we have is shite. We got 4 pairs of heels in Dee's size. Included in the bounty were bracelets, necklaces and a piggy bank with two gold coin chocolates and an actual US 50 cent piece. Theres a Fiddy cent I can appreciate. In one dumpster I say an actual gallon jar of pickled peppers. Pepperoncinis to be precise.
All in all a productive day that might as likely ended with me typing how I hadn't gotten out of bed at all.
Friday, November 9, 2007
non-specific malaise
A little depression. I think mostly externally driven. Lots of chickens coming home to roost. Haven't heard about the job. Not sure if I should have heard by now or not. Had some work in what I've been thinking was my profession. I now realize it is actually a part time job with no expenses and really high professional fees, software requirements, insurance and low rates of collection.
My wanting to avoid making some hard choices is a drain on my energies. I need to follow through and take steps I have already identified.
My wanting to avoid making some hard choices is a drain on my energies. I need to follow through and take steps I have already identified.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Telepathically Tantric
OK last night I was reading several posts on the NSFW, but I consider appropriate blog by Dirty Filthy Princess. I just discovered her blog and was fascinated by some parallels. She, like I had for the most part saved herself for marriage. (Technically, we saved ourselves for the one we eventually married.) In her case it was a mature and thoughtful choice. In my case there was an occasional noble thought, but mostly I was a nerd that could never align my desperate hormonal urges, and actual opportunity, and my conscience at the same time. The perfect storm happened when I met Dee and not to tell her tale or too much of mine, but she had borne a child previously and I assumed that meant a less than immaculate conception.
She was a bit frustrated at the time as we grew closer and explored in ways I had had some opportunities in earlier life but the level of beguilement had not overcome my fortitude. She, (beguiling as Eve on a mission from he who persuadeth to partake of forbidden fruit) did persuade me, and I partook of some from the lower branches of the tree. Her frustration was we'd set a date, we did things that to her mind (and mine now) were certainly more adventurous then simple coupling. But I held out, treasuring the last shred of my virginity as a???? Well, I'm not sure why I did that, it probably was partly because I didn't know what I was missing, and partly because what I was getting was superb. We were actually celibate and chaste in all ways in the week before the wedding as if that absolved previous indiscretions. I am sure glad I didn't think of showing that fortitude say a month before the wedding.I would never have made it.
Anyway as it goes, I told you that so I could tell you this.
I am reading DFP's blog with Dee trying to sleep next to me. Among many posts I read there there were two or three in particular that seized upon my imagination. One was a rather impassioned description of her latest ministrations upon her husbands person with him in a shall we say receptive rather than giving mode. Another, I think alluded to the enthusiasm she has had for his person in this way since they became intimate, and it reminded me of us in our early days, not so much in some of the middle stressful period, and a lot as of late. The last one I cannot describe without being more personal than I want to be, but I shall send a note to Dirty Filthy Princess perhaps thanking her for the telepathic suggestion.
I finally closed the laptop and as it powered down I slipped out of my fem Calvin Kleins and socks, leaving male briefs and a t-shirt. I was pondering things sexual, and aware that Dee has an early day, and that surfing blogs so long had made any overtures a little untimely at this point. Still, I had some energy,and despite my puritanical upbringing that makes it difficult to do even at the age of 42 with a wife who (correctly) thinks it is a normal human event, I began the slow process of self exploration that could well lead to the grievous sin of Onan.
Dee, who I thought was asleep, rolled my direction and much to my embarrassment, her reach found that my briefs were not exactly waist high at the time. A soft hand though turneth away a blush, and I rose to the occasion I put aside all self-critical thoughts of my deviance.
She was in rare form, what I like to call her "artistic" mode. She once had a mall kiosk print 4 business cards with her name and "felatio artist" on it and there was in fact truth in advertising I can attest. I began to wonder if she had read over my shoulder as it was almost a concerto played to surpass the description of DFP efforts. I say this not to demean DFP's obviously worshipful and highly skilled ministrations, but to show the heights achieved here.
At some point she made a request that I am not to sure has ever been done in exactly that way by us in 15 years of sexual gymnastics, which is saying a lot. One doesn't find the truly new that often, although I find the combinations make it new each time.
The specificity of the request seemed to me to have come straight from a line DFP had written, so I assumed it was because she had read the words by the glow of the laptop along with me. She had actually said "You are addicted to blurfing" which I took to be a comment on the fact that I had kept at it till 2AM, and that she had read the blog I had finished last. I thought the enthusiasm was a gentle reminder to my easily obsessed self that there is a real live,willing woman in bed with me and reading about others experiences is a poor substitute.
I went back to blurfing (surfing blogs) none-the-less tonight and was reading some aloud to Dee. I mentioned something that harked back to DFP's and she gave me a blank look. I explained, you know the one you were reading over my shoulder? Nothing. Finally we realized she had read nothing but my mind,and more likely my responses to her. Incredible how in tuned she can be to me at times.
She was a bit frustrated at the time as we grew closer and explored in ways I had had some opportunities in earlier life but the level of beguilement had not overcome my fortitude. She, (beguiling as Eve on a mission from he who persuadeth to partake of forbidden fruit) did persuade me, and I partook of some from the lower branches of the tree. Her frustration was we'd set a date, we did things that to her mind (and mine now) were certainly more adventurous then simple coupling. But I held out, treasuring the last shred of my virginity as a???? Well, I'm not sure why I did that, it probably was partly because I didn't know what I was missing, and partly because what I was getting was superb. We were actually celibate and chaste in all ways in the week before the wedding as if that absolved previous indiscretions. I am sure glad I didn't think of showing that fortitude say a month before the wedding.I would never have made it.
Anyway as it goes, I told you that so I could tell you this.
I am reading DFP's blog with Dee trying to sleep next to me. Among many posts I read there there were two or three in particular that seized upon my imagination. One was a rather impassioned description of her latest ministrations upon her husbands person with him in a shall we say receptive rather than giving mode. Another, I think alluded to the enthusiasm she has had for his person in this way since they became intimate, and it reminded me of us in our early days, not so much in some of the middle stressful period, and a lot as of late. The last one I cannot describe without being more personal than I want to be, but I shall send a note to Dirty Filthy Princess perhaps thanking her for the telepathic suggestion.
I finally closed the laptop and as it powered down I slipped out of my fem Calvin Kleins and socks, leaving male briefs and a t-shirt. I was pondering things sexual, and aware that Dee has an early day, and that surfing blogs so long had made any overtures a little untimely at this point. Still, I had some energy,and despite my puritanical upbringing that makes it difficult to do even at the age of 42 with a wife who (correctly) thinks it is a normal human event, I began the slow process of self exploration that could well lead to the grievous sin of Onan.
Dee, who I thought was asleep, rolled my direction and much to my embarrassment, her reach found that my briefs were not exactly waist high at the time. A soft hand though turneth away a blush, and I rose to the occasion I put aside all self-critical thoughts of my deviance.
She was in rare form, what I like to call her "artistic" mode. She once had a mall kiosk print 4 business cards with her name and "felatio artist" on it and there was in fact truth in advertising I can attest. I began to wonder if she had read over my shoulder as it was almost a concerto played to surpass the description of DFP efforts. I say this not to demean DFP's obviously worshipful and highly skilled ministrations, but to show the heights achieved here.
At some point she made a request that I am not to sure has ever been done in exactly that way by us in 15 years of sexual gymnastics, which is saying a lot. One doesn't find the truly new that often, although I find the combinations make it new each time.
The specificity of the request seemed to me to have come straight from a line DFP had written, so I assumed it was because she had read the words by the glow of the laptop along with me. She had actually said "You are addicted to blurfing" which I took to be a comment on the fact that I had kept at it till 2AM, and that she had read the blog I had finished last. I thought the enthusiasm was a gentle reminder to my easily obsessed self that there is a real live,willing woman in bed with me and reading about others experiences is a poor substitute.
I went back to blurfing (surfing blogs) none-the-less tonight and was reading some aloud to Dee. I mentioned something that harked back to DFP's and she gave me a blank look. I explained, you know the one you were reading over my shoulder? Nothing. Finally we realized she had read nothing but my mind,and more likely my responses to her. Incredible how in tuned she can be to me at times.
As if frequent 1500 word posts are not enough...
I/(We?) need yet another blog. Dee had her own, started me one, one for the family, then one for her photos. She stopped using hers because that vender was awkward. I never wrote a word on mine,and the family one kind of became her main blog and her public face for her vanilla online friends.
Shortly after I started this one, Dee started her non-vanilla blog. It featured fictionalized depictions of some interesting moments of, er well intimacy. It was not, then linked to mine or really anyone else. At some point she thought better of it and deleted the entries, and over time that blog morphed into her wife of a crossdresser blog.
Anyway what made me think of the earlier sexblog was that I needed somewhere to recount the story in my head about something that happened last night, without resorting to the euphemisms that I use here to maintain a reasonably clean and for the most part safe for work blog. Since I do post pictures of me (In sane moments the non-en-femme ones give me pause) It seems I want to be a little less interesting to say, Inside Edition or a tabloid or some local attention if and when this comes to any sort of attention.
Anyway the gist of what I wanted to write is that there have been three occaisons lately where specific things that were on my mind because of blogs or other web pages that I have read, seemed to have been conveyed to Dee telepathically. In two of the cases, I know for a fact she hadn't read what I had read and I hadn;t even hinted I had read that genre that day, the latest that caused me to think about it, I assumed she had read over my shoulder.
I am not sure what I am going to do exactly in my next blog entry about it, but I think I will leave enough details to remind myself what it is I wanted to say, with still being cryptic enough to conform to my pre-conceptions about what this blog is and isn't about.
On the other hand it has been an evolving thing. Non-identifiable personal details about things I like to do creep in for example cooking. It isn't just NSFW stuff that I leave out of this blog. A lot of vanilla stuff I leave out too. For example things I collect, things about the kids like in the vein of kids say the darnedest things, things about my car, my profession, that sort of thing. Mostly mindful never to give enough pieces of the puzzle for the inevitable cyber troll to make grief of my life which is of course none of their business.
Shortly after I started this one, Dee started her non-vanilla blog. It featured fictionalized depictions of some interesting moments of, er well intimacy. It was not, then linked to mine or really anyone else. At some point she thought better of it and deleted the entries, and over time that blog morphed into her wife of a crossdresser blog.
Anyway what made me think of the earlier sexblog was that I needed somewhere to recount the story in my head about something that happened last night, without resorting to the euphemisms that I use here to maintain a reasonably clean and for the most part safe for work blog. Since I do post pictures of me (In sane moments the non-en-femme ones give me pause) It seems I want to be a little less interesting to say, Inside Edition or a tabloid or some local attention if and when this comes to any sort of attention.
Anyway the gist of what I wanted to write is that there have been three occaisons lately where specific things that were on my mind because of blogs or other web pages that I have read, seemed to have been conveyed to Dee telepathically. In two of the cases, I know for a fact she hadn't read what I had read and I hadn;t even hinted I had read that genre that day, the latest that caused me to think about it, I assumed she had read over my shoulder.
I am not sure what I am going to do exactly in my next blog entry about it, but I think I will leave enough details to remind myself what it is I wanted to say, with still being cryptic enough to conform to my pre-conceptions about what this blog is and isn't about.
On the other hand it has been an evolving thing. Non-identifiable personal details about things I like to do creep in for example cooking. It isn't just NSFW stuff that I leave out of this blog. A lot of vanilla stuff I leave out too. For example things I collect, things about the kids like in the vein of kids say the darnedest things, things about my car, my profession, that sort of thing. Mostly mindful never to give enough pieces of the puzzle for the inevitable cyber troll to make grief of my life which is of course none of their business.
Friday, November 2, 2007
From Sling-Backs to Steel-Toes.
I went thrifting, want really into it, probably because Halloween shoppers had grabbed all the 50% off tagged items for crossdressing, slutty, or hobo-esque costumes. By the time Thursday dollar day rolled around there was noting left to mark down to a dollar.
Bought mostly shoes. They are harder for the average shopper to decode, and the colored tags fall off, do it wasn't obvious which were a dollar unless you are a shoe fanatic.
Mostly found ones for Dee, or her sister (who recently put me up for the night whilst hiding out from Roscoe and Cletus and waiting for my Interview the next day).
The 12 year old has feet the same size as the sister-in-law and snagged the cute ones for herself, leaving only the high dollar Anne Klein pumps because she disdains pointing toes. I like pointy toes myself, but not ON myself, even at a relatively modest size 9.5 size, point toes that ad an extra inch or more just scream trannny shoes to me. I want shoes that shrink me a couple of sizes.
I found a great pair of Doc Martins, but they were a Men's eleven. Even though I am wonderfully endowed in other ways,(intellectually, egotistically, humorously, etc etc...)-those would be too big.
I looked some more and found a great pair of scuffed Stanley work boots with the MSHA required steel-reinforced toes and really good remaining tread life. These I spent far more than anything else on at nearly $8. It seemed a good purchase Karma wise to assume I will be needing these for the much needed job I hope to get soon.
Bought mostly shoes. They are harder for the average shopper to decode, and the colored tags fall off, do it wasn't obvious which were a dollar unless you are a shoe fanatic.
Mostly found ones for Dee, or her sister (who recently put me up for the night whilst hiding out from Roscoe and Cletus and waiting for my Interview the next day).
The 12 year old has feet the same size as the sister-in-law and snagged the cute ones for herself, leaving only the high dollar Anne Klein pumps because she disdains pointing toes. I like pointy toes myself, but not ON myself, even at a relatively modest size 9.5 size, point toes that ad an extra inch or more just scream trannny shoes to me. I want shoes that shrink me a couple of sizes.
I found a great pair of Doc Martins, but they were a Men's eleven. Even though I am wonderfully endowed in other ways,(intellectually, egotistically, humorously, etc etc...)-those would be too big.
I looked some more and found a great pair of scuffed Stanley work boots with the MSHA required steel-reinforced toes and really good remaining tread life. These I spent far more than anything else on at nearly $8. It seemed a good purchase Karma wise to assume I will be needing these for the much needed job I hope to get soon.
Rant on the hopeless nature of government interventions.
Outline for a blog entry that didn't get done a short while ago: (I don't normally work off an outline but type stream of consciousness, but I am trying to work on my writing skills and focus my subjects better.)
A thread about daylight savings time inspired a rant. (What doesn't inspire a rant out of my male side?)
Interesting factoid I learned was that the Scotts at sometime (look that up) had a 2 hour change. One seems silly. Farther North 'needs' more daylight?'
I likened the daylight savings idea to the save gas and lives idea about driving 55 for the entire portion of my formative driving years.
Consider a clip of I cant drive 55? Hagar? was he with VH at the time?
Look up stats on accident rates at differing speeds.
Upshot is pick the speed most likely to be obeyed by the most people and you get consistent traffic flow which is more important than nominal speed.
Maybe link to my most recent experience being non-compliant with arbitrarily posted speed 'limits' and the tangential interaction with the Gendarmes that ensued.
A thread about daylight savings time inspired a rant. (What doesn't inspire a rant out of my male side?)
Interesting factoid I learned was that the Scotts at sometime (look that up) had a 2 hour change. One seems silly. Farther North 'needs' more daylight?'
I likened the daylight savings idea to the save gas and lives idea about driving 55 for the entire portion of my formative driving years.
Consider a clip of I cant drive 55? Hagar? was he with VH at the time?
Look up stats on accident rates at differing speeds.
Upshot is pick the speed most likely to be obeyed by the most people and you get consistent traffic flow which is more important than nominal speed.
Maybe link to my most recent experience being non-compliant with arbitrarily posted speed 'limits' and the tangential interaction with the Gendarmes that ensued.
Pondering whilst scratching my wisker-less chin..
Yet another place-holder. I need a blackberry with voice recognition software so I can blog every random thought I have; thus not depriving any of the handful of avid readers the benefit of my disjointed musing.
Having to consider whether an androgynous look might affect me getting the job in a macho environment has given me something to think about.
Was growing beard, part fun, part the wife digs it, part upcoming Halloween, part proving my recent trend towards leaning femme was merely a fun hobby, can quit anytime etc.
Got call about ob interview, wondered about physical, etc, hadn't shaved head, face or anything else in 3 weeks, figured no harm waiting another 10 days. Surprised that when I had decided I could not, the urge to do so increase. Previously I had put it off 3 weeks with no angst, a few days into my 10 day plan to cont. my wo0lification was noteworthy.
Interview went fine, wiskers didnt hurt, surely didnt help either.
Range of motion tests were all I had so far, and no disrobement required. Next step isa call in 2 weeks for full physical. Now my smooth reprieve is delayed further.
Shaved my head and chin. Seemed to help. Feel neutral.
Having to consider whether an androgynous look might affect me getting the job in a macho environment has given me something to think about.
Was growing beard, part fun, part the wife digs it, part upcoming Halloween, part proving my recent trend towards leaning femme was merely a fun hobby, can quit anytime etc.
Got call about ob interview, wondered about physical, etc, hadn't shaved head, face or anything else in 3 weeks, figured no harm waiting another 10 days. Surprised that when I had decided I could not, the urge to do so increase. Previously I had put it off 3 weeks with no angst, a few days into my 10 day plan to cont. my wo0lification was noteworthy.
Interview went fine, wiskers didnt hurt, surely didnt help either.
Range of motion tests were all I had so far, and no disrobement required. Next step isa call in 2 weeks for full physical. Now my smooth reprieve is delayed further.
Shaved my head and chin. Seemed to help. Feel neutral.
Losing ROscoe and CLetus..
Cliff notes:
Job interview 225ish miles away. Light car, heavy foot high revving car. Couple of over matched SUV's with flashing lights in the visors, Lots of adrenaline, no citation.
Version I posted about it..
I would have made the 4 hour leg of the trip in 2.5 hours, but it took me 10 minutes to lose Rosco and Cletus in their Highway Patrol SUV's and then for good measure I went the speed limit for the last 30 miles in case they were running a tascan. (stop watch test, they sometimes radio ahead.) I passed them going 105.
In the 30 seconds it took them to get on the black-top and underway, I had cranked it up a bit more and was nearly a mile ahead. First major defilade, I killed the lights slammed on the four wheel discs until I got it slowed to something the e-brake could handle, and finished the decel, I wheeled it around facing the cops, who were just then cresting the rise.
I thought I was too slow, but with nothing else to do, I hit the lights, hoping from their vantage point it would look like lights appearing from a gully, I gunned it, the went by me at over 100 I was doing a leisurely 70. With a closing rate of 170+ they didn't get much of a look at my car. I was so sure they would catch on two bends in the road later and come back after me. So, nervously I reversed yet again and followed them. To my relief, there was a Y and come to find out both cars went left. My destination was to keep to the right.
I saw only two semi's the whole next 30-40 miles to the state border. I took the road less traveled and that made all the difference.
Today on the way home I was scrupulously within the speed limit, but got pulled over anyway. Heart in the throat, I do think they were checking out anything low and fast his reasoning was a burned out brake light bulb...gave me a repair order and sent me on my way, but the stop was a lot longer than that sort of thing usually is..
I think that was my one and only get of jail free pass for the entire southeast quadrant of the state.
Job interview 225ish miles away. Light car, heavy foot high revving car. Couple of over matched SUV's with flashing lights in the visors, Lots of adrenaline, no citation.
Version I posted about it..
I would have made the 4 hour leg of the trip in 2.5 hours, but it took me 10 minutes to lose Rosco and Cletus in their Highway Patrol SUV's and then for good measure I went the speed limit for the last 30 miles in case they were running a tascan. (stop watch test, they sometimes radio ahead.) I passed them going 105.
In the 30 seconds it took them to get on the black-top and underway, I had cranked it up a bit more and was nearly a mile ahead. First major defilade, I killed the lights slammed on the four wheel discs until I got it slowed to something the e-brake could handle, and finished the decel, I wheeled it around facing the cops, who were just then cresting the rise.
I thought I was too slow, but with nothing else to do, I hit the lights, hoping from their vantage point it would look like lights appearing from a gully, I gunned it, the went by me at over 100 I was doing a leisurely 70. With a closing rate of 170+ they didn't get much of a look at my car. I was so sure they would catch on two bends in the road later and come back after me. So, nervously I reversed yet again and followed them. To my relief, there was a Y and come to find out both cars went left. My destination was to keep to the right.
I saw only two semi's the whole next 30-40 miles to the state border. I took the road less traveled and that made all the difference.
Today on the way home I was scrupulously within the speed limit, but got pulled over anyway. Heart in the throat, I do think they were checking out anything low and fast his reasoning was a burned out brake light bulb...gave me a repair order and sent me on my way, but the stop was a lot longer than that sort of thing usually is..
I think that was my one and only get of jail free pass for the entire southeast quadrant of the state.
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