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About Me....

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

remember how i was telling you about seattle summers?

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

anyways, in the words of dan rather,

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