Strange Dream Time

So last night/early this morning, I posted a blog message. After re-reading it, I guess I was trying to convey my feelings on balancing the good and bad in life, and turning the bad into something positive. I mentioned specifically school students and some of the trials they face as they grow up and mature. After surfing a few internet sites I normally visit, I put my surfboard away, slipped out of my cyber bikini, and went to bed (figuratively speaking, that is).

I had a strange dream last night. In the dream, I was a male college freshman arriving on campus for the first time so I could move into a dormitory. I started unloading the car and began carrying boxes up the stairs to my new room. The dorm mother (for a guy's dorm?) would stop me each time I passed by the front desk. First, she just introduced herself, then she would ask general questions about me, and then began telling me specific rules and regulations for living in the dorm. Most of it seemed pretty bland, so I wasn't paying much attention until she began criticizing my clothes and told me the university had a strict dress code.

I don't know how she did it, but gradually (piece by piece) she had me exchange my everyday male clothes for a female student uniform. She started with some fairly androgynous shoes, followed by a somewhat feminine shirt on my next trip past her office, and when I had dropped off another load of stuff, she invited me to sit down for a cold drink while she mopped my brow and "fixed" my hair. When I looked in the mirror, I now had a girlish bob. The final straw was the short plaid skirt. I was furious now. From the back I looked more like a Japanese schoolgirl from an anime. I decided to grab my last box of belongings, put it in my room, and make a speedy trip to the administration building to complain about this woman. When I first walked into the dorm, I didn't see her, but she grabbed me from behind and quickly had me down on the ground. We wrestled and fought, and when she turned me loose, I was now wearing a bra (how did she get it on under my blouse?). I yelled out that she was insane and ran upstairs to my room. On the way up, my bra began feeling very tight across my chest. When I reached my room, I ripped open my shirt to see what was causing the tightness, and as fans of cliche TG fiction can tell you, I now had a nice pair of feminine breasts.

The dream ended, but not the weirdness. I awoke. I had been tossing and turning during that dream. I tried to sit up, but found it difficult. I seemed to be restrained, and something tight was binding my chest. I started to panic and grab at the binding, only to discover that somehow I had wrapped the bed sheet tightly around my chest during the night while tossing and turning. Part of me sighed in relief, and part of me was very disappointed that it was all just a dream.

Kelli

What Doesn't Kill You...

... Makes You A Better Person. I've heard that saying for years and like to think it is true. I know I can think back to specific instances in my life that were very bad at the time, but now realize I learned some important life lesson from that event and/or that event helped me to mature into the person I am today. You might call it a variation of making lemonade when life gives you lemons. I would classify this as a good thing.

Another item I would classify as a good thing is a news story that came across my computer this morning. I've seen dozens of such stories over the years so I didn't really pay any attention to the specifics, but a school district someplace in the U.S. was going to crack down and try to eliminate student bullying. As a person who suffered his/her fair share of unwanted attention from the local bully, and as an adult who wants today's school children to have access to the best, I can easily applaud their efforts to eliminate bullying.

Please let me be crystal clear on this: I am against bullying. I don't like bullies. If I were ever given the power to eliminate bullying, I would do it. However, I can look back at my school days and actually see where confronting and standing up to bullies made me a better person. I was one of the quiet students back in school, definitely one of the smaller ones, and definitely one of the smarter ones. I've rarely seen a bully pick on someone his own size, but someone that is 6, 8, 10 or more inches smaller and that is some easy pickins. It probably added to their amusement that I didn't back down.

The results: quite a few bloody noses, busted lips, and large bumps on the noggin. But I have also truthfully heard people say Kelli is an easygoing person, but don't make her mad cause she's got cojones! [This is a G-rated blog, get your minds out of the gutter!] I can thank those bullies for what fighting spirit I have.

Kids today face bullying tactics I never heard of in my day. There are computers, e-mail, instant messaging, and cell phones in addition to the actual six-foot-two sixth grader waiting outside for you to exit the building. After sorting through all the pros and cons of this issue, I figured no one could ever completely eliminate bullying, and that might not be a totally bad thing. Perhaps we should try our best to eliminate it, knowing that a very small amount that we miss might make us better people.

Like I said, I'm very confused when I place these two issues side by side. On the one hand, I say getting rid of bullying is a good thing. On the other hand, I think bullying helped me to mature. Any thoughts offered by readers of this humble blog that might un-confuse me would be appreciated.

On the flip side of all that, suppose back when we were in school that everyone was mature enough, secure enough, Christian enough in the way they treated others to where transgendered (used as a blanket term) students had the freedom everyone else had in school. Maybe we could dress the way we really wanted to within the school dress code. I could have really used home economics (which reminds me... I need to buy new batteries for the smoke detector). Our high school football team could have really used all the help they could get, so decent girl players would have been a great blessing. In addition to the FFA, FCA, and the like, we could have the FCC -- Fellowship of Christian Crossdressers. You get the idea.

Now I have before me the way things were versus the way I wish things could have been. If given a choice to live or re-live, it seems obvious the most pleasant scenario would be "the way I wish things could have been". But it pains me greatly to say "the way things were" probably produced the best results.

Kelli

In The Future, It's Already Been Invented

Matter is to anti-matter as The Flintstones are to The Jetsons. I've been looking to the past and present for what needs to be invented, however today is tomorrow's yesterday and I think we are on the verge of some great breakthroughs.

I saw this gag only once on The Jetsons, but it stuck with me. They had an automatic closet that would dress you for the day ahead. You can probably guess what happened. George Jetson, the father, stepped into the automatic closet. The machine was not working properly, and George ended up dressed in his wife's outfit. He didn't look very pretty, but with a little bit of tweaking in the machinery, I think it has promise for our select group.

A pretty gal I use to date was a major "Trekkie" and would drag me to all the Star Trek movies. In one movie, the crew of the spaceship Enterprise boldly traveled back in time to present day earth. The doctor found himself in one of our "antiquated" hospitals where he gave a sick woman a pill to take and she grew a new pair of kidneys. I found myself wondering if they made pills that helped you grow other things....

It seems that in the future cyborg bodies (part human, part machine) are very popular. Your Ghost In The Shell could find it's shell as curvy and feminine as you've ever dreamed it could be. Brain transplants are also possible, but many of the surgeons are a bit mad and could really stand some brain work themselves. I do not recommend this course of action in the future.

More freedom and acceptance of individual dress habits, perfection of human interaction with virtual environments, elimination of ignorance and hate, and the electrification of the rural south I believe are just a few of the things we should look towards in the future. Be patient, my friends and sisters, the future will be here eventually.

Kelli

Can't Wait Until It's Invented!

I remember many years ago, as a child, watching The Flintstones on television. It was a cartoon about a prehistoric family that lived a surprisingly modern life. For example, they had a garbage disposal in the kitchen sink. The gag was that it was actually a wart hog that lived under the sink that ate the garbage. Hey, it's a living.

Another gag they frequently used was someone needing something that had not yet been invented, and that person saying they were looking forward to someone inventing it. I told a group of kids once that when I was a kid, you would often find us on a hot summer day sitting on the porch, bored silly, because video games had not yet been invented, and we couldn't wait for someone to invent them. My sense of humor was never recognized by those kids.

However, I have recognized the possibilities of deciding what future items need to be invented, and offer some TG specific ideas:

We'll start with undergarments. I was shocked the first time I saw an advertisement for Hanes Her Way or Jockey For Her. Every guy knew these brand names, but certainly never associated them with female underwear. The product seems to be very popular, and no one these days gives this a second thought. It seems safe to now suggest that someone needs to invent Bali For Him and Playtex His Way. The marketing possibilities are endless. Next door to every Victoria's Secret, we could have a new store called Victor's Secret.

How about some shoes. I personally don't have very much trouble finding women's shoes that fit, but have seen one specific type of shoe that I really want. It's those specially designed sneakers designed to firm and tone the legs and butt. I want my legs and butt (especially the butt) to look more like those of the female models who sell the shoes. I challenge Madison Avenue to hire a male model, have him use those shoes religiously for six months, and show me if they will do what I want them to do. Then, I will happily pay $75 for a pair of sneakers.

It seems using makeup on a super model is like adding a four-barrel carburetor to the rockets on the space shuttle. She already has a natural beauty that most of us guys would kill for. Put one of us in that beautician's chair and slather on the moisturizers, the skin toners, the cleansers. Wax, tweeze, cut, and perm our hair until perfect. Show me a make-up color palette that would put a rainbow to shame. Make-up that could actually improve my face is the make-up I want.

And speaking of make-up, in my early days, I was known to use a little too much of the good stuff. Imagine the laugh I got when I saw an infomercial on television for an air-brush make-up applicator. Sounds like a great idea, but too dainty for the average Joe (or Josie). My designs call for a standard paint-gun sprayer hooked up to a moderately sized air compressor. Tape off the areas where you do not want to apply any makeup, fire-up the compressor, and let it go! [NOTE: Do not try this at home. Let someone who claims to be a trained professional try it first. If they survive, then maybe consider it....]

These are just a few of my ideas. However, I freely put them out there to the general public in case some free-thinking entrepeneur/inventor has the ability to take the ideas from the drawing board to the finished product. I look forward to a future date when I look back in time and think I remember when I wished someone would invent that.

Kelli

Various and Sundry Updates, August 19, 2010

Hello from Kelli World! Hope your summer is going swimmingly.

I've been on a diet now for three weeks. The first two weeks were fantastic. I was eating a salad every evening for dinner. This salad would include a little bit of cheese, couple slices of red onion, a couple of cherry tomatoes, and some low fat dressing. I would wash it all down with a diet pop or water, AND I WAS LOOSING WEIGHT! I couldn't believe it. The pounds (and I have quite a few pounds to loose) were disappearing with ease, and I was enjoying the food. I kept that up for two weeks, and then decided I needed a change. That was a mistake.

I switched to low calorie / low fat foods and noticed almost immediately that not only had the weight loss stopped, it had started to reverse. This week, I'll be back on salads and liking it. I blame it all on my job, where I sit behind a desk for eight hours a day five days a week. With such inactivity, I have discovered that just the thought of something like southern fried chicken will cause me to gain... Oh, I need a larger girdle.

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Kelli is a very girly-type person. I like all things feminine and have no problem with that when I am home or with friends who know about Kelli. Problem is I seem to sometimes slip into Kelli mode (female mode) when I'm actually Kelly (male mode). Last week I was "ma'am"ed at the grocery store while talking to the cashier. Unfortunately, I was out as Kelly. Part of me loved it, and part of me was extremely annoyed.

I place the blame for this squarely at the feet of autogynephilia. With autogynephilia, I have this incredibly strong urge to picture myself as a woman, to fantasize that I am a woman, to do all of this in just my mind -- crossdressing and/or sex-change body modifications are not necessary. And most of my fantasies are quick little thoughts that can form in the mind and then vanish, or they take place when I can actually be Kelli (mentally and/or physically) for an extended amount of time. However, one fantasy I have has me as an actual woman who is trying to pass herself of as a man -- reverse crossdressing, if you will. In other words, I am Kelli, pretending to be Kelly. Doing that will get me "ma'am"ed every time.

- - -

Speaking of quick fantasies, have you seen ads on television for those sneakers specially designed to tone-up your legs and butt. They always feature pretty, athletic women, and you find yourself thinking If only....

Kelli

"Are You Gay?"

When I came out to my last girlfriend, that was one of (if not the) first questions she asked me: "Are you gay?" I assured her I was not gay, but at the time, I needed reassuring myself. The time was the early 1990s, and although I had studied and read up on terms like crossdressing, transvestism, and transsexualism, it would be several more years before I heard the term "autogynephilia".

Fortunately, I told her the truth, even though I was not certain at the time. I had gone through several bad relationships, and one day put 2 and 2 together and figured there was the possibility that I was gay. Let's look at the facts. Fact one -- I enjoyed dressing in women's clothes. Fact two -- I had always dated women and never even considered anything romantic with another man. Fact three -- in many of my fantasies and daydreams, I was often a woman with another woman. Fact four -- in many of my fantasies and daydreams, I was often a woman with a man. Three out of four of those facts screamed "Gay!" at me.

I figured I should consider the possibility that I was gay. After a few talks with some gay friends and a quick perusal of some gay "romance novels", I was quickly convinced that as a man, I did not want, did not desire, did not have the slightest inclination to be romantic with another man. However, I was still confused. Here is what I now knew: in reality, I like women; in fantasy, I liked both.

I knew that in my fantasies I wanted to be a woman. That along with my general feelings on crossdressing led me to believe I might be transsexual. Much literature on the subject written back then suggested that many transsexuals had experienced shifts in their sexual preferences, and I figured that in a worse case scenario, I would be bi-sexual, and hoped that correcting all the "plumbing" would make me a straight woman in search of a good man.

After dating my girlfriend for awhile, I began counselling on my transgenderism. My doctor was very practical in his outlook and very helpful. I asked him one day if he thought I was gay. He asked if I dated men or women, and I replied women. He told me I was straight. I then brought up the subject of my fantasy in which I was a woman with a man. He told me I was straight. I asked how he could be so sure. He replied that I was fantasizing about a man and a woman having sex -- what was gay about that? I answered that it was gay because I was the woman in the fantasy. I then started to see what he was getting at, and realized I still had a lot more work to do in figuring out my fantasies. Even if I did work at deciphering my fantasies, they were still just fantasies. In real life I was physically male and enjoyed dating women. Fantasies would never change that.

Fantasies are not real. Fantasies are not factual. If one of your fantasies were to come true, there is no guarantee that you would like that fantasy as a reality. Fantasies are just a variation on the classic daydream. Ever have a daydream about going skinny-dipping in a mountain spring on a hot day? My real experiences with mountain springs tells me they are usually a bit cold for skinny-dipping.

I'm confident in my sexuality these days, even if the trip to that destination was a bit convoluted.

Kelli

No News Except In Dreams

Work and summer activities have kept me pretty busy lately. That's not too bad of a thing, except it has really cut down on my Kelli time. My subconscious seems to have picked-up on this fact, and I have had several nice dreams that were heavy in TG content.

I try to approach dreams more from a scientific perspective than the mystical point of view that many people promote. Like Freud, it makes logical sense to me that during sleep the subconscious can enjoy greater freedom and control of the mind. He (the subconscious) likes to sit at the brain's control board and playback memories of things that recently happened, and memories of things that happened a long time ago. He also likes to take a look at your current fears and phobias (I don't know if he is trying to help or not, but he doesn't really have anything else to do at that time of night). He's even looked at problems I recently faced during waking hours, and given me solutions, making some of my dreams extremely valuable and practical. However, the conscious mind is watching all this on another monitor in another part of the brain, and he can't make sense of any of it. He just sees a jumble of anecdotes and has no information regarding time and context. Unfortunately, the conscious mind is what we deal with in our waking hours, so we awake and say something like, "I had the strangest dream last night!"

Jung made great strides in dream interpretation with his theory of archetypes, which basically states that objects and people in dreams actually represent specific ideas and that these archetypes (by definition) are the same in different people's dreams. Problem is that you can't hold fast and true to this theory simply because objects mean different things to people of different ethnicities, age, gender, and lifestyles. An example I read on another web site was about a stuffed toy tiger. If I dreamed about the toy, it might be that my dream was about issues in my youth. If a child dreamed about the same toy, it was probably just a fun dream, and I believe some dreams are best explained as being just entertaining with no special meaning.

The dream I had last night could definitely be explained as just being fun, although because it again happened at my parent's house, I am open to the possibility of there being more to the interpretation. In the dream, Mom is nagging me (I'm in male mode) to clean out the closet in what was my room when I lived there (something she does in real life too). I'm looking at all the male clothes (I have no female clothes there for obvious reasons) and asking myself how I am going to pack all those old clothes into my suitcase so I can fly back home. Then I get an idea: I'll wear as many of the clothes as possible on the plane!

The first item I put on is an old black t-shirt that appears to have writing on the back, but I can't read it. I then notice that I have 2 blue jeans jackets and put both of them on. I then turn to look at myself in a full mirror and am shocked to find that I now have the tiny waist of a gorgeous supermodel (I've recently started dieting and exercising). I pull the jacket back and place my hands on my newly trimmed waist to make certain it is for real and discover that my t-shirt has been replaced with a very pretty black knit blouse. I look back at the mirror to see a hint of cleavage in the scoop neckline and my hair is now short, cute, and very feminine. That's when I awoke.

Like I said, odds are that dream was just fun entertainment playing in my mind. But on the off chance there was something mystical, I'm going to look for those blue jean jackets next time I visit my parents!