CPDF

I felt like trying to be hip and trendy this morning and thought I would suggest a brand new public ailment that needs proper documentation and treatment.  This ailment is spreading fast across the country, and the vast majority of people who suffer from it are in denial due to shame, ignorance, and hypocrisy.  I have labeled this ailment CPDF -- Cell Phone Driver Face.

Cell Phone Driver Face (CPDF) is the expression on a motor vehicle operator's face, who is also talking on a cell phone, and has just done something incredibly stupid and/or dangerous almost resulting in a vehicle accident. After numerous car horns and shouts from the offended party, the driver who is talking on his/her cell phone will proceed forward as if nothing happened while staring stupidly at the offended party as if he/she is unable to comprehend what has just happened.  Their eyes are non-blinking and vacant.  Their mouth hangs open.  Their head is turned so as to stare at the person they almost had a collision with while the cell phone is pulled slightly away from the ear but still within range to hear the person at the other end of the line.  In rare occasions when I have been able to speak with a person who suffers from CPDF and has almost been in a traffic accident, they have, at best, a poor recollection of what just happened and in some cases don't realize they were almost the cause of a major traffic accident.

One of my favorite places to get coffee is the local convenience store (I love you 7-Eleven!!!).  To get there, I have to cross the street.  On my return after purchasing coffee, I waited at the light until I got the "walk" sign.  Everyone is suppose to stop at a red light.  That includes all cars and trucks, pedestrians, cyclists, people wanting to turn right, people wanting to turn left, and people wanting to continue through.  Everybody stops at a red light so people with the green light (in this case, me) can proceed.  I started walking through the intersection with my coffee.  I was directly in front of a little sport car when the driver decided to proceed with a right turn through the red light.  I realized I was about to be hit by a car and braced myself by planting my left hand on the hood of the car while my right hand held my coffee.  I yelled and he momentarily stopped.  I thought he must have now seen me or heard me, but no, he then proceeded forward again.  With my left hand still on the hood of his car, I jumped and swung my body over the fender of his car, like a fence gate.  To my great surprise, he had not actually hit me with his car.  I then noticed that even after that, he hadn't stopped.  He continued forward.  I saw his window was rolled down and yelled "Hey!" as he drove by.  He stared stupidly at me, his eyes non-blinking and vacant.  His mouth hung open and I saw his cell phone slightly ajar from his right ear.  He continued his right turn and sped off.

Similar incidents have happened to me in the past.  I've blown the horn on my car at people who ran red lights.  I saw their silhouette through their car window -- head turned towards me, cell phone slightly ajar from their right ear, jaw appeared to be elongated from an open mouth.  I was unable to actually see their eyes, but I have a good assumption of what they looked like.  I consider my observations and theories on this subject quite solid and anticipate hearing from the American Psychiatric and Head Shrink Association very soon for inclusion in the DSM.

One important note I must include on this is that I have gotten the same response of CPDF while out en femme and no traffic altercations occurred.  However, I consider this a sub-group within the defined limits of CPDF as cell-phones were involved.

By the way, in my altercation with the guy who almost ran me down and I swung out over his fender to avoid being hit, I am very proud to also report that I didn't spill a single drop of coffee.  The Good Lord knows I love coffee!

Kelli

Wow! Is Christmas Over Already???

So when I last posted to this little blog last the warm glow of the Christmas season had engulfed the world and visions of sugar plums were dancing in my head.  Everything was in perfect harmony, the planets were properly alligned, God was in His heaven, and all was good.

Then I got up one morning in January, shuffled over to my state-of-the-art Windows XP computer, attempted to log-in to my e-mail, and discovered the internet was gone.  I was very disappointed as I really liked the internet, but realized that my dad was correct when he told me that the internet was just a fad.  Apparently the internet had just fizzled-out in popularity and gone the way of hula-hoops, frisbees, and stereos with automatic record-changers.

I found an old copy of TVGuide and saw that the Phil Donahue talk show was scheduled next hour.  I now had plans for my morning, but decided first to call the phone company and make certain they were no longer charging me for internet service as there was no more internet.

I spoke to a very nice phone company rep who sounded like he was from Indiana, but when asked said he was in Kansas.  (Or maybe it was India, I don't remember).  This man was a genius.  After a few simple questions, we discovered two problems.  First, I had fallen asleep again in my blonde wig, thus the reason for my mental confusion.  Secondly, the internet was still in service.  It was my phone line that was causing the problems.

Now it was almost exactly one year ago that my phone line had failed previously.  I received no help from anyone and replaced it myself.  This time, I decided to do things differently.  I decided to consider ALL internet options and began doing research.

The fastest way to do research is on the internet, and since my access was gone, I was forced to use the public library.  Now I LOVE the public library.  I'm a big library supporter.  I think libraries are essential and a nice luxury every community should have.  But, the libraries are public, as opposed to my private internet access at home.  The computers at my library are out in the open, laid out on desktops, and anyone can see what you are doing on the computer just by walking past.  I'm extremely old-fashioned and easily embarassed.  The last time I used a public computer and something objectionable popped-up on the screen I almost broke a leg trying to shut everything down.

That means I was uncomfortable blogging and Tweeting about crossdressing.  I know many people, probably most people, would disagree with me on this, but I was raised this way and decades of such Puritan attitudes are difficult to overcome.  I think people should wear whatever they want to wear.  If you want to dress like a man, like a woman, or the Queen of Sheba you should have that right.  And I know that in this day and age children are already exposed to crossdressers (I was probably in my teens back in the stoneage when I first came across stories of other crossdressers), but I have chosen to not put the topics of crossdressing or transgenderism before others publicly.  I'm happy with my personal level of privacy.  People find my little blog by looking for it.  I do not purposely put my blog in front of strangers because I don't know what these strangers want.

I also did this because of the incorrect attitudes of many people.  There's nothing pornographic about my blog, yet crossdressing and transgenderism is often labeled as such by people who are ignorant.  Who wants to be accused of corrupting the morality of American youth?  I want wonderful things for American youth whether or not they are transgendered.

So am I being a total wimp and letting people shout me down?  Maybe.  I prefer to think of it as avoiding conflict and freely speaking where I can.  On the keyboard side of the computer screen, I felt conflicted.  On the other side of the computer screen, I felt free and bold.  I decided to wait until I had private internet access again to blog.  Besides, I like blogging in my PJs (male or female).

So I tried a few internet service providers that offered options other than DSL.  Internet service via smoke signals was reasonably priced, but slower than dial-up.  And after two days of YouTube delivered by the U.S. Postal Service, I was forced to move from my apartment for lack of space.  My new apartment has good phone wiring, and I am back on the internet.

Kelli

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