It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Wipeout!!!

Sorry for the lack of posts this past month.  Late summer activities and vacations and family and work and..., well, you get the idea, kept me plenty busy.  On top of that, I suffered a wipeout in my internet surfing.

I've been knocked off the internet before, but never with such a perfect storm that sent a tsunami-type wave that knocked me off my internet surfing board into a senseless drift of odd bytes and file fragments and onto a deserted island of no internet access. I spent a week marooned with no e-mail, no Twitter, no blogs, and no spam.  Actually, you can forget about the spam.  I can't stomach it and it's bad for my waistline anyways.

I made a rescue flag from my bikini top (okay, a small rescue flag), then sat down on the beach to work on my tan and watch for rescue boats.  The flag alone didn't help much.  I ended up having to frantically jump and down and wave my arms anytime a ship passed, but the first time I did so I got an immediate response.  Now I'm back in the civilized world and fully plugged into the world wide web.  Ooh, the new cat videos on YouTube I missed while gone!

Seriously, it was a 1-2 punch.  First I discovered I had no internet access.  I spent a couple of days checking the hardware and firewalls, then admitted defeat and phoned my DSL tech support.  Immediately, I got a pre-recorded message saying there was a problem with users anti-virus software.  The software was making everyone's computers so secure from internet viruses and hackers that the computers were now unable to connect to the internet.  That's very secure, but a bit ridiculous.  The fix was to un-install the anti-virus software and install the updated version.  I did so.  Once it was completed, I turned off the computer, grabbed my purse, and headed to work.

All day long at work I couldn't wait to get home and get back on the internet.  (Withdrawal symptoms?  Couldn't be!)  I work for an employer where nothing is secret, so I can't go near anything remotely TG or "questionable" on my work computers.  It's not that I work in a high security-type place, it's just that I have a super nosey and suspicious computer tech co-worker.  This guy set up an open Wi-Fi network strictly for employee use on their free time, and the first time I used it I found someone trying to hack into my personal computer.  Talk about "Big Brother"!

Anyway, I returned home, slipped into something more comfortable, hit the on button (on the computer, thank you very much!), logged onto the internet, and got nothing.  Zip!  Zero!  Zilch!  I spent the next day trying to connect to the internet.  This time I tried re-booting in safe mode and even bought a new ethernet connector.  Still nothing.  I decided to phone tech support again and did so the next day only to discover my telephone was dead.  My telephone is an old-fashioned land line but is connected to DSL.  After I had downloaded the new software and gone to work, we had heavy thunderstorms move through the area and knocked down the phone lines on my block.  Girl, did I feel stupid!!!

So now I'm back surfing the internet and trying hard to update my blog more often.  Also, in case I am ever hit by a tsunami again and forced to make a rescue flag, I am switching to one-piece internet-surfing-swimsuits.  Wait a minute... I just noticed a problem with that plan.

Kelli

Myra Breckinridge

Gore Vidal passed away this week.  He was a giant in the literary world and a fascinating man who knew a lot of fascinating people.  I don't read a lot of novels, but I did read Myra Breckinridge many years ago, and it spawned a family mystery that I have never solved.

Sometime back in the 1970s I was staying with relatives for the summer.  At the time I thought I was a young crossdresser (terms like "transgender" and "autogynephilia" hadn't been coined yet) and took every opportunity to dress in old clothes that I might find, read anything on the subject that might be in print (there was very little legit info in print back then), and hypnotically watch anything on television dealing with the subject (which was normally relegated to rare news stories about transexuals).  Yes, for the enlightenment of the younger ready, forty years ago mankind was basically an ignorant brute as evidenced by the polyster fashion of the day, but I digress....  I was staying with relatives for the summer and had the run of the house and the small town where we lived.

One afternoon I happened to go nosing through a closet full of old clothes and lots of "junk".  None of the clothes really caught my eye, but I found some old magazines and books that appeared interesting.  Once I had dug down into the middle of the stack, I discovered that sandwiched between reams of general family-targeted magazines were a couple of girlie magazines and a paperback copy of Myra Breckinridge.

I examined the girlie magazines first as I was most familiar with those.  They had the usual centerfolds and layouts of gorgeous nude women, but one item that both copies had in common was that they both had layouts of some hermaphrodites as well.  I was puzzled by this coincidence and mesmerized by these naked bodies that were both male and female.  I had never seen anything like that before.

Then I turned my attention to the book and began reading it.  To the best of my knowledge, I had never heard anything about this book or about the author, yet something drove me to read it.  The two magazines had been major important finds for me and a hunch told me this book was right up my alley as well.  Over the course of a week I sneaked reading chapters and stuck with the book to the very end (I didn't cheat and read the end first) where I was rewarded with the literary fulfillment of a major personal erotic fantasy -- Myra had been Myron, a male.  The thought of being able to overcome my problem of being male and becoming a beautiful woman like Myra (who would tell you herself that she was beautiful) made a huge impact on me.

Some time later, a question popped into my little brain.  Who was the owner of these books and magazines?  The owner was obviously a relative, yet they had been hidden away in a manner where only the owner would have access to them.  This owner might have been like me, wishing they had been born a woman.  Years later, I also realized that this person might have been a bit more lewd, being what is often termed a "tranny chaser".  Whatever the reason for this relative owning this material, I would have liked to have talked with them about it.  There are studies that suggest transgenderism is an inherited phenomenon.  Learning of this person's motives and passions would have been a treasure trove of info.

Unfortunately, this person was probably raised like I was to be ashamed and be silent of any deviation from the "norm".  If there is nothing wrong or sinful about the deviation, why be ashamed and silent?  I can fully understand why people might think my actions are odd (they are sometimes odd to me also), but odd does not equal wrong or sinful, and I've learned being ashamed and silent (for no good reason) not only hurts myself, but others who feel the same.

Kelli

Keepin' It Girly

I've got lots of secret girly reminders surrounding me on a daily basis.  For example, heaven help me if a stranger picks up my cell phone.  I currently have this cute gif as the wallpaper reminding myself to stop and smell the coffee.  Doing so en femme is even nicer.

My computer at home is equipped with a couple of desktops.  One features girly and transgender themes, the other is boring guy colors and designs.  My favorite Ranma 1/2 gif of Ranma being doused with cold water would probably invoke too many questions when the parson comes for a visit.  However, Windows "dessert" color theme screams generic guy computer.

Mom always told me to make certain to wear clean underwear in case you are involved in a traffic accident.  I'm not certain which would raise more questions -- being in an accident while wearing 2 day old underwear, or wearing satin pink heart panties trimmed in lace.  Either way, I prefer the second.

Sometimes my girlish ways are discovered.  I once had to visit a doctor and absent mindedly shaved my legs the night before.  The problem was an ingrown toenail.  I realized what I had done when the doctor asked me to remove my shoe and sock.  He examined my foot, noticed the lack of hair, and raised my pant leg.  Do you shave your legs? he asked.  I tried to act as confident as possible.  Of course I do.  Is there anything wrong?  The doctor assured me nothing was wrong and wrote a prescription.  Thank heavens I didn't need an injection in the rear.  I probably would have passed out and the doctor would have used my cell phone to call a friend to come get me.  See gif above....

Still, in all the years I've been doing this, I have yet to really been called out.  Keep it girly, friends.  It's better than any alternative out there.

Kelli

Vacation Time!

Merciful heavens!  Due to other people's vacations, I am in dire need of a vacation!  I feel bad for not updating my little blog in over a month, but it seems everyone at my place of employment decided to vacation in June.  That left little ol' me to fill-in and cover for all my fellow employees, working my fingers to the bone, all under the compassionate gaze of my slaver-driver boss.  I ended up with only bony fingers to show for my dedication, good work ethic, and honesty.  A pay raise is what I would have preferred, but in my line of work they don't give out pay raises for being a good employee.  On a side note, bright red nail polish seems to make your fingers look even bonier.


Now that we are in July and the middle of summer vacation season here in the states, I can't imagine a repeat of June, but you never know.  I'm almost afraid to ask for a week of vacation because of the possibility of denial of request.  I mean, the only reason they could deny my request is because they are expecting a repeat of June.  That would crush my spirit.  Did everyone get an extra week of vacation and I missed the memo?


I shouldn't complain too much about my job, referred to affectionately as "the salt mine".  Gender dysphoria has permeated all aspects of my life to one degree or so, and sometimes dreams and fantasy are mistakenly compared to reality.  Lots of people would say I have a very nice job, and when the facts are considered, they are correct.  But in my dreams, I would much rather be a runway model for the house of Chanel, and that job trumps most any male job imaginable.


I'll try to do better at blogging.  FYI I also enjoy Tweeting now and frequently retweet interesting items that can be found in the right-hand column of my blog.  I normally tweet or retweet several times a day, so if you see something interesting, please check back often.  I put a lot of time and effort into selecting the proper heels for Tweeting, so I take it pretty seriously.


Kelli

Introductory Androgyny 101

Had a chance run-in with an androgynous person the other day.  I had stopped at a fast food place and this person was working the cash register.  I was totally blown away with the mixed gender signals I got from this person.  This person had a completely androgynous name, and working in a fast food restaurant had a uni-sex uniform on.  Short hair framed a cute face, and a ponytail exited from under the back of the cap.  The voice was definitely masculine while body motion was very feminine.  Being a bit taller than myself, I glanced up, looking for more gender markers and decided I definitely saw feminine breasts under the knit pull-over shirt.  I was thoroughly confused by this person's gender, and that doesn't happen very often to me.


The incident got me to considering the subject of androgyny.  Speaking only for myself, when I'm in female mode, I always consider myself somewhat "girly-girly".  I enjoy projecting a female image.  It seemed to me that a bit of gender ambiguity might be both possible and permissible from time to time, so I've decided to start exploring this option as well.


Let's face reality.  I've got friends and co-workers that don't seem to share my enjoyment of high-heeled shoes.  Some uni-sex loafers might be a safer alternative.  Projecting a "100% male" image gets boring after awhile (and in my case that normally takes just a couple of minutes).


If that was you in the fast food restaurant, I'd love to hear from you.


Kelli

March Winds, April Showers, May Flowers, Blog Update

Sorry for the lack of updates.  I really am working on posting more often.  Starting a project like a blog shocks you with the reality that it takes a lot of discipline and study to keep one running and hopefully have a few people read it.  There are a couple of incredibly popular blogs that I read that are updated every day.  Until science perfects a surgically grafted USB connection to hard wire humans to computers, I will probably just aim for one update a week.


Twitter is a handy tool for all sorts of news, including transgender news.  I can't believe I waited so long to start using it.  You can see my favorite TG news retweets in the right column.


I have to admit that I was surprised when I read that some transgenders were unhappy with the Miss Universe rule change allowing transgenders to compete.  I can certainly respect their views on the subject.  Haven't we reached a point where about any configuration imaginable is now possible?  We can have beauty contests for "natural born" women.  I'm okay with that.  We can have beauty contests with women and transgenders competing side-by-side.  I'm okay with that.  We can still have beauty contests for just transgenders.  I imagine everyone is okay with that.  Funny how you don't have contests featuring 100% natural contestants completely void of surgical enhancement, dress with enhanced padding, and makeup.


Thanks to the masses that voted in my poll.  You were evenly divided between the ever-popular unaccompanied drum solo for the talent competition, and the basic state of being beautiful as a God-given talent.  I thank you both for voting.


That's all for now.  Tweet me @kelliroberts4!  Does that mean there are three other Kelli Roberts out there?  That could be scary.


Kelli