Needling Civilians

A few days ago, P sent this satellite photo of the rally with a note: "If you look close you can see [male name]'s boobs."


[By the way, the stage is to the right.  The large empty vertical stretch is 7th street.  The stage is on 3rd.  The original permit was to cover the space from 3rd to 7th.  Everything past that street is really overflow.  Just to the right of 7th there are two white tents.  We were 5-10 people "below" the top tent.  If you look close, you can see my boobs. :)  Click to enlarge the picture.]

I followed with: "Are you trying to say I overdid the padding?" and he wrote back "Nope.  They just stand out - as it were."

Well, they were supposed to stand out, so thank you for noticing, P!  Thinking back, I wish I'd played up the role.  Bounce them around or lean close so they'd be in his face, or just occasionally act overtly feminine.  I should have.  I didn't.  Maybe it's better that I didn't.

I wrote "I spent a lot of time trying to figure out the correct size. :)" to which he replied "I would say that all of DC saw that you paid close attenton to detail.  ;-)"

I didn't respond.  I certainly won't mention that I did spend a lot of time trying to figure out the correct size, but I did that over a long period of time.  Or that I have a lot of other bras in different sizes, and several breastforms.  Actually, I was surprised that he never asked what I used for padding or what size the bra was or if I was wearing women's panties as well, or if I'd ever done this before.  I think this is called "denial."

[Another aside ~ the bra I was wearing was a  Bali Passion for Comfort Soft Taupe.  I really like the way this bra looks ~ it adds curves, in my opinion.  I think it makes a difference.  Yes, the link is another "affiliate link".  If you follow it and buy anything from Amazon, I get a shekel.]


So I think that thread's done.  I don't really have an answer to his last comment.  I do reserve the right to think up a comment.  I don't want to let it get too stale though.

But I wasn't going to give up that easily.  In another thread, P wrote that he may come down when it gets warmer.  I wrote back:

Come down in the spring!  I have a new outfit that's perfect for cherry blossom time!

I spent several minutes trying to decide if I should write "lovely new outfit".  I removed the adjective.  I also rejected "I have the perfect dress for..."

Next note from P simply said "hot pants and a halter top?"

So I wrote "There is a limit to how much shaving I will do."

No answer, but this was just yesterday.

I'd like to stop beating around the bush.  I have an urge to write "is there anything you want to know?" or "I really do have an outfit for cherry blossom time" or "the hardest part of the costume was deciding which suit to wear" or "I had to buy the pearls and the right colour makeup.  I had everything else around the house." or "if you don't want to do cherry blossom, I have the perfect dress for a night at The State Theatre."  (In a previous visit, we saw the Dark Star Orchestra at The State.  Yes, P is a deadhead.  I am only a fan.)

It's probably good that we live 400 miles apart and rarely talk on the phone.  I can edit my e-mails and probably preserve a friendship.

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Monday Morning Musings and a Bit of Business

She Said It

A few days ago, Stana wrote what I was trying to articulate.  She wrote a post about an old Black Velvet billboard she would see with a beautiful model on it.  She ended with:

Guys encountering such advertisements might wish that they could bed a Black Velvet model. Gals encountering such advertisements might wish they could look like a Black Velvet model.
I wished I could do both.

Nice and succinct and a very real difference ~ one that puts us sharply on the fence between women and civilians.  There's also a bit of regret there.  If I was sitting on that fence and I fell on the "bed" side, I'd be sorry I didn't land on the "look like" side.  And if I fell on the "look like" side, I'd be sorry I didn't land on the "bed" side.

I'm married and that's not going to change.  But I'm more reluctant to come out to (or even show pictures to) a really beautiful woman, because I'm afraid it'll kill my (already nonexistent) chances with her.

On occasion, I've said to a woman "if I was a girl, I'd want to look like you."  It's always taken as a compliment, but it's meant as such and as "really.  I mean it.  Can you help me look like you?"

No End in Sight

I'm still e-mailing P with little hints.  He's not biting, but he's not squashing it either.  I'll have the exchanges in a few days, after I feel it's run its course.

A Bit of Business

I am now a member of the Amazon affiliates program, just in time for the holiday spending season.  This means I may occasionally link to something of interest that Amazon sells, such as Kevyn Aucoin's excellent book on makeup called Making Faces.  I love this book because he does complete looks, and, bonus for us, he also makes a guy over as a girl.  Follow the link if you want to see what the particular item is.  But if you follow an Amazon link and buy anything I get a tiny kickback.  So if you say "I think I'll buy a Precision Twist 9/32" Taper Length Drill 118 Deg HSS L 6 1/4" Flute 3 7/8" for fifty cents or a Leica M7 "50 Year M" System with SUMMILUX-M 1:1.4/50mm ASPH Special Edition Set in Titanium for twenty grand, I get a tiny cut, as long as you go to Amazon from a link on my page.  It doesn't matter what you buy (and PLEASE don't buy that camera, unless you really want it!).  I don't get any information on you, just a tiny cheque every so often.  It helps me to buy muse food. :)

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Shopping with the Missus

I recently received a private comment (preface your comment with private and I will neither publish it nor have your e-mail address).


She said that when shopping in drab with her wife she's "encouraged [her] wife to buy items (she'd like too) and then later I'd borrow them back."
She went on to ask "how do you handle shopping, if with the wife, and you see a "must" have item. Do you buy? Or sneak back later and get it?"
Oooh. I want to buy, but I don't. My wife (K) doesn't really approve, and it feels like I'm bringing the issue out into the open, in a public place. I'll note what I want and get it later. Three reasons:

* what I just said ~ I don't need to remind her that I like to dress up.
* I don't want to start a discussion of how much money goes to my alternate wardrobe.
* If we're out shopping, we're either shopping for drab clothes for me, or clothes for her. I don't want to divert shopping with a goal into shopping with my goal.

Another issue ~ we're very different sizes. It's unlikely I'd see something on a rack she's looking at that would fit me.

Just before the wedding in New York a couple of weeks ago, K brought the outfit she wanted to wear to the cleaners. They ruined it. The night before we were to head to New York, she said "I need to go shopping. Do you want to come?"

I had a lot to do to get ready, but I figured, women's clothes store AND husband points ~ a good deal all around. So we went together, to a strip mall that has a Dress Barn and a Marshalls. We went to Dress Barn first.

Think about how most guys act when they're shopping with their SO.  I was always a typical shopping-with-SO guy. It's probably been a year or two since we had reason to shop together for clothes for her. This time I was, shall we say, atypical.  Going out does change you.
I offered opinions on whether I thought a smaller size skirt would fit.  When she saw a long skirt she liked, but it was too long for her height, I asked the SA if it came in petite, or if they had something similar but not quite as long. She tried on a jacket; I comfortably held her bag.  I looked around at clothes on other racks that she might like.  I wandered into the misses side (K shops the women's side) to see if there was something I liked (there wasn't). By the checkout there was a rack of "novelty" socks. I like those, so I looked, but for the reasons I mentioned earlier (plus one I didn't ~ I have a LOT of socks), I didn't buy. I may go back.

An aside: the other night, I said to K, "are you wearing my socks?"  They were golden-brown with flowery vines on them.  She said "I ran out of socks."  I said "that's fine.  Feel free."  It's not like I've never borrowed any of her clothes, especially when I first started dressing up with her in my life.

The experience was very different from my old self, and from most civilians.

I can see myself paying more attention at jewelry counters as well, but again, marking items in my mind for a later visit. Shoes and cosmetics, not so much, because she might find it embarrassing. I have decided to not mind what people think. She, I think, hasn't made that leap, and I will respect that. A guy who's overly interested in shoes or cosmetics is looked at oddly.

I'm not sure about lingerie.

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TDor Report Part V: The Program Continued

Two pages commemorating the people who were killed because of hate and ignorance were included in the program.  Eleven candles were lit ~ one for each soul, one for the others who died anonymously.  My wish is that the eleventh candle was for no-one.

Click on each page to enlarge.

TDor Report Part IV: The Program

I enjoyed the readings and singing at the service.  The program had the usual text.  I'm including the pictures from the program on here.  This is the front cover.  Click for full size.

No TG Content

Really.  Just for today.  Nothing TransGendered, or ThanksGiving, really, either.

I don't buy into "let's stuff ourselves and mark the start of holiday shopping" day.  I'll be cooking for my family, which I enjoy but I'm not very good at.  The good news is, I can do it wearing a housedress and frilly apron, before I change into a nice dress for dinner.

Well, I can imagine I can.  And darn it, some TG content did slip in after all. :)

I do want to take today to thank all of you ~ I enjoy writing, and it's nice to have someone out there reading.  I'm energised by your comments and e-mails.

I have more friends now than in my previous fifty years all together, and I'm thankful.

Your are special, and beautiful, and I'll shut up now.

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TDoR Report Part III: After The Service

I left quickly, without speaking with other people there.  If I were a different person, I might have asked if I could get up in front of the congregation.  I might have said

I've never been to this church.  I don't know how many people in the congregation are regulars, or how many came, as I did, for this Remembrance service.  From here, I see little groups of one and two and empty seats between.


To reduce the violence in our community, we need to reduce the space between ourselves.  It's sad that even when we come together, we're separate and alone.

I might have, if I were a different person.

I left quickly, after speaking to the two women I mentioned yesterday.

Instead of getting in my car, I walked across the street to the shopping centre.  I walked around a bit, past the Safeway, past the little shoe store I'd never seen before (alas, closed).  Before the service, I walked a lot, looking for the church.  Now I needed some aimless walking time.

At home, I mentioned to my wife that the church seemed to have a LGBT flavour.  She said, "I figured.  And that's why I didn't go.  It doesn't interest me."

That made me sad, too.

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TDoR Report Part II: The People

The sanctuary could seat maybe 100 people, maybe more if they pulled out more chairs and squeezed in a bit.  I'd guess there were forty or fifty people there Saturday night.  A few children sat in the back with their parents.  One teenage girl was among them.  I didn't notice anyone I'd call high school or college age, but I wasn't studying the crowd demographics.  I was looking around though.

I'd say there were more women than men, maybe a 60-40 split.  I'm not making a distinction between being a gender and presenting as a gender.  I only mentioned the speaker's condition yesterday because she did.  I make no assumption about anybody else.

The Metropolitan Community Church of Northern Virginia focuses on the LGBT community, according to their website.  There is a rainbow flag outside marking the entrance.  The background behind the pulpit is the rainbow "stained glass" that you can see on the website home page.

I'm not sure what to make of the crowd.  Most people sat in ones or twos with empty seats between them and the next person, which makes me think they came for the event and weren't regular members who knew each other.  On the other hand, the reverend greeted me as I was leaving, which makes me think she spotted a stranger and knew the other people.  But on yet another hand, maybe she did that because I was leaving and she wanted to make sure she caught all of the strangers.  She introduced herself, asked me my name.  I asked her if the program would be on the website.  She said "it could be," but I will scan it and post it over the next couple of days.  She asked for my e-mail.  I had given her my male (first) name, but might point her at this blog, so I gave her my Meg e-mail.  We were gathered because of the problem of hate, but trust is the first step in a solution.  Besides, less trustworthy people than a reverend know my male self and my hobby: the women who did my makeup, store assistants to whom I said "this is for me" and then handed my credit card, for instance.

I didn't speak to the other congregants.  I did seek out the woman who spoke, to tell her how moving her speech was, and that I was sorry I couldn't find the place so I could have heard the whole thing!

A nicely dressed woman was sitting in front of me.  I could have commented on how nice the service/ceremony was to her.  I just didn't think of it.

Postscript: as of this morning, the pastor has not dropped me a note.  Hopefully, she will.  I have some questions.

---

TDoR Report Part I: The Service

Last night, I went to the Metropolitan Community Church of Northern Virginia.  It wasn't easy.

The church is in an office building behind a shopping centre.  My gps seemed to think it was at the other end of the street.  The street curves around a parking lot, and it's hard to see if you're on the street or in a private lot.  I parked and only found even numbers, although they were close to what I was looking for.  I walked to the odd side, which was the shopping centre.  I saw someone in a car who was looking for a church.  I also passed someone else who was slowly driving on the street and lot and obviously looking for the church.  I don't know if either found it.

It wasn't in the shopping centre.  I walked back to my car, and tried the gps on my phone.  It led me west to the nearest street, then north about a block, then east a quarter mile, then said to turn east and it was right there.  Wrong.  It was the right street, but the numbers were too low and getting lower.  So I turned west.  Now I could follow the numbers and after crossing a street into the next lot I found it.  And after all of that walking (I figure about a mile) I was maybe 50 feet from my car!

And it was after 7.

I joined the service, already in progress.  A transsexual woman was giving a long and moving talk.  I checked the program; I had missed some of the readings and I wished I had heard all of her talk.  She spoke at length about people we're probably familiar with: Tyra Hunter and Erin Vaught, both denied medical treatment because of how they presented.  The speaker told of her own experience, being told that a local hospital "wasn't sure they could treat someone with her condition."

A candle ceremony followed, commemorating the ten people who died because of how they presented.  One was 17-month-old (yes, month) Roy Jones who was beaten to death by his mother's boyfriend to "try to make him act like a boy instead of a little girl"

I can only hope next year there is no reason to light a candle.

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Overdressing, But Not Overt Dressing

I'll be wearing women's jeans, flowered socks, women's sneaks, women's polo, and my charm bracelet to the Transgender Day of Remembrance event tonight.  Nothing overtly female, but nothing male either.

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Thank You All. I'm Off the Ledge

I went with the more innocent, fun approach.  No additional pictures.  No additional hints.

I sent P an e-mail, with the subject "K [my wife] Showed Me Your Facebook Page".  I wrote: 

Now all of your friends are going to be looking at my boobs.

He wrote back:

Once they realize, we'll be able to hear bodies dropping.

And I followed up with:

Hey, if anyone wants to see, I can put them on the floor and take a picture. Or drop them in the mail.

No, it's not my best line.  I was tired, I guess.  I'm sure I can do better.

Anyway, he wrote back:

That's ok.  You can keep your boobs to yourself.

He added:

On Family Guy, the Mom admonishes the Dad for getting the son breast implants.  Next thing you see is the son juggling the implants (with his hands, that is).

OK, I would've liked to see the plot go in a different direction myself. :)

I should have stopped there.  I can hear all of your voices telling me STOP.  Hearing and listening are two different skills.  I've mastered the former, but not the latter.  This is clearly a dead end. 

Instead I tried again:

Don't you need three for juggling?  That would make a fun juggling act anyway.

I do think I looked pretty good though. :)

and then went on to talk about other unrelated things.

It would be a fun juggling act.  The banter would be... unique.

He did respond to the "looked pretty good" line.  I thought he'd ignore it again.  He wrote:

Amazing!  Every time I saw you in the corner of my eye, my brain said "woman!"
and then I looked and saw you (Yikes!).

C [his 20-something daughter] thought you looked great, too.

Validation feels good.  I had to pull teeth to get it though.

I think it ends here.  I have nothing more to say without really forcing.

Too bad.  I really want to find a civilian I can interview.  I can't just ask for one on Craigslist.

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TDoR ~ What I'll Say

It's always good to plan in advance, before any transgendered event, whether it's coming out, or going out, or even shopping..  No, you'll never cover all of the possible situations, but the more you've rehearsed, the less chance of being surprised. 

In my previous post I said, if anyone asks me why I came, I'll tell them I'm a crossdresser.

I won't.

Instead, I will say "I'm a member of the community."  I will expound if asked, but I think that's a more succinct, accurate answer.

The other options were meant as a joke.  No stories.

Transgender Day of Remembrance

I plan to be at the Fairfax event commemorating the Transgender Day of Remembrance Saturday night.  I told my wife I'll be there.

Unfortunately, I won't be dressed.  Being dressed would be much much better.  It would mean being anonymous.  In drab, I'm exposed as myself.  If anyone asks, I'll tell them I'm a crossdresser and I'm here to remember those who were subject to violence because the way they presented didn't match society's norms.

Or I'll say "for the same reason Stephen Colbert stood up for illegal immigrants."  Or "maybe someday, I'll need someone to support me and my particular group."

But I'm pretty sure I'll go with full disclosure.

I'm even more sure I'll be left to myself and won't interact with anyone.  I'll come in, sit by myself, and leave at the end.

There are a lot of us out there.  I don't know who else I'll see.  I don't know who will be there dressed and recognise me while I don't recognise her.

It's something I need to do.

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Talk Me Off the Ledge

I'm thinking of sending P either a picture from the clothing swap, or one of me in the six-inch pumps.  Or maybe one from last year's office Halloween dressup.

Maybe I would write "see?  I could've done wingwoman duty."

Just to see what he says.

Or maybe I can just photoshop a rally picture face onto a different picture of my body.  Why?  He'll know it's a fake.  He won't know the body's mine.  I'd consider it a private joke.

Coming out is always a one-way trip.  You go through an exit, not a revolving door.

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Funny Followup

After my This is Funny post yesterday, Peruby went to Macy's website and was informed of a "shopping jam".  Did you guys do that?

Here's the screen she saw:

Rally Report VIII: Civilian Report

I'm not sure what to do with this.

My friend P posted a page of rally pictures on facebook. I'm not his facebook friend (no page for my male persona) so I checked them on my wife's page. He captioned the first twenty or so, then stopped (at least for now).

"Christine" is featured on the page.

To make this a bit easier to read, I'm going to borrow my anonymous friend Pat's name. My first name is ambiguous, at least in spelling, so I'll use an ambiguous alias. For the captions, I'll call myself "Pat Thebunny" instead of writing .  People with small children will understand the reference.

One picture was of my wife, her friend J, and I, and it was labeled "the folks I hung with at the rally" and our names. I was listed as "Pat (Christine O'Donnell) Thebunny".

In a second picture of the three of us, I was just listed as "Ms. O'Donnell" (in quotes).

The third picture was captioned:

Just to make it clear, Pat is a guy dressed up as O'Donnell. Every so often, I would catch "her" in the corner of my eye, my brain would register "woman" and invariably my system was shocked to realize it was really Pat.  Pre-ty freaky. He/she got quite a lot of amusing looks, particularly on the Metro going both ways and as we were leaving the Mall after the rally.

He also included close-ups of the name tags on my jacket.

I guess I passed, and passed well, and passed repeatedly.  And he assumed I would pass in the eyes of his friends.  I'm not sure what he made of the "amusing looks" ~ if they were people who liked the costume (they coulda said so!) or people who thought I didn't pass that well.  Or maybe he was reading amusing where it didn't exist.

I need to follow up, but I'm not sure how.  He ignored my "admit it ~ you thought I looked good" email and my "I could've done wingwoman duty" email.

I'd like to open a dialogue.

At the very least, I'd like to write "great.  Now everyone's going to be looking at my boobs."

At the very most, I'd like to write "yes, I do this a few times a year.  I'd like to interview a civilian.  Interested?"

I'd like to find a way to go from least to most, I guess.

I'd also like to know if any of his friends comment on the pictures, or my femulation.  I'd be especially interested if one of his friends wrote to him "I bet this isn't the first time he's done it" although I doubt P would relay that back to me.  I think he'd be afraid of the answer.

But what I'd really like to do is set up my own page, friend P and then invite all of my readers to friend him as well. :)  I suppose I could do that just by giving you all his name, but in the interest of fairness  I'd need to out myself in the process.

But it would be a lot of fun. :)

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More Than Just A Letter

Fran Drescher wrote an article for the Huffington Post, The Time for Equal Rights for LGBT Americans is Now!

I added the following comment:

There are six "read more" categories pertaining to gays, plus one that adds "T" to the mix. And this article could have been about "Equal Rights for LGB Americans" and the story only would have been more accurate.

Transgendered individuals such as myself, and many more up and down the spectrum from "occasional dresser" to "girl, you'll be a woman soon" are ignored by that 24-hour news cycle except when one kills or gets killed.

I'd like to see stories about how we're accepted by people such as Fran and the rest of my friends on the left.

Equal rights needs to include us too. We're more than a letter at the end of the LGB label.

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This Is Funny!

My anonymous friend Pat read the reviews for the panties I pointed at in my regular post today. She said "there are four reviews, and "[t]wo of the comments were from men (50%)".

It turns out that there are eight reviews; the page is a bit messed up, but if you go back and forth between the two pages of comments you'll find them all. But four of the eight are still from men!

We are everywhere!

By the way, I don't own that pair, but I am wearing patterned Jockey nylon/spandex today. I couldn't find a style number, but I recommend them. I'll update later, if I can find the style.

If anyone's bored today, check out other panty reviews and let me know the ratio.

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Foe Pa

A faux pas from my trip to New York. I packed everything I needed for a conference call, for down time, for the wedding.

I forgot pajamas.

I only own panties. Some are white, in a brief style that look like regular tightie-whities except the fabric is a bit thinner and, of course, they lack a fly.

I often wear those with jeans, or if I have a medical appointment.

The rest are not. They are nylon or cotton or some percentage of spandex in a variety of colours and patterns. Generally, I wear these. If I'm forced into presentation drab (suit/tie) I always wear these. It's just a nice I'd-rather-be reminder.

In the room in New York were my wife, my oldest son, and me. Remembering that he would be in the room and thinking I may be in just underwear at some point, I only brought white cotton with a plain waistband.

No pajamas means this would have been hard to explain. Of course, when I'm traveling on my own, nightgowns are standard. I bring one long and one short. And my pajamas are all women's, in "unisex" styles. Have you noticed that "unisex" almost always means "men's clothes women don't mind wearing?" The only time men have ever reached over to the women's side, that I can think of, is long hair. And that has always had serious limits.

I'm back in Virginia now, working on my last rally report. I've been showing pictures to different people over the last two weeks, and I think I've shown them to everyone I planned to. My final report(s) will be a summary of reactions.

I had no objection to mentioning the rally and my costume to the (wife's) relatives in NY, but it just never came up. It never feels right to force it.

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Four Words

I'm in New York. We came up for my wife's cousin's son's wedding Friday night. I think I mentioned that I'm not a big fan of events like this.

But I have four words that made it worthwhile:

Short skirts, high heels.

If I was to make it six words:

Very short skirts, very high heels.

I also made a discovery. The more I drink (gin all the way) the sadder I get that I'm wearing a suit instead of one of those fabulous dresses.

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Old Radio

One of my other odd hobbies is listening to old radio shows. That's this kinda stuff.

Today, I listened to an old Bob Hope Show (Mar 25, 1952). Gracie Allen, the better half of Burns and Allen, was his guest. Bob Hope, for you youngsters, was a tireless performer who made many comedy movies (check out the "Road" pictures). He did a lot of television and he spent much of his career entertaining troops around the world, often in war zones. As for Burns and Allen, see if you can find some George Burns bits from his old radio or television show. You won't be disappointed.

Anyway, within a few minutes of show, there were several "gender bender" jokes. Not very good jokes, but I wonder about the writers that week. One of the writers was a young Larry Gelbart. I'm not familiar with the other two writers. Strangely, they were all named Larry.

Bob: You look wonderful.
Gracie: Thank you. So do you.
Bob: You haven't changed since the first day we met. You look just like that same sweet girl....
Gracie: Thank you. So do you.
~~~
Bob: That sounds just like a woman driver.
Gracie: Well I have to be. George wouldn't like it if he were married to a man driver.
~~~
Bob: You play the part of a Wave.
Gracie: A Wave?
Bob: Yeah, you know. A sailor who wears skirts.
Gracie: Ohhhh. Do they let them do that?
~~~
Bob: The Waves do a lot of jobs in the Navy that the men don't want to be bothered with.
Gracie: I understand that perfectly. An admiral wouldn't want to stop what he was doing just to have a baby.
~~~
Gracie, to her friend Blanche: I called you over so we could have a man-to-man talk.

1952. Jokes like this were not uncommon, but a series like that makes me wonder.

On the May 13, 1953 show, which he did at Walter Reed Army Hospital Bob was doing a monologue and he just came out with:

Christine: the only soldier who went abroad and came back a broad.

That might be the very first Christine Jorgensen joke on the radio.

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Rally Report VII: Back Home

We finally caught up with the other women again. My first impulse was to head toward L'Enfant Plaza, but fortunately, I decided Federal Center was closer. It turns out L'Enfant was having problems that afternoon.

The crowds were not as bad as I expected. Getting on before the train reached the mall area helped, as did waiting until we found the girls again, but most people were able to get on the train without getting crowded out. Typical New York rush hour subway trips were worse. By the time we got to Virginia, some seats had opened and I took advantage of my status to grab one. P was standing nearby; the other women had headed in the opposite direction when the doors opened and were somewhere further down the car.

At one point, P said "I keep thinking I'm talking to and then I look down and see that. That prompted the woman sitting in front of me to turn around and we started chatting about the rally. She was staying not far from the mall I wanted to go to, and came from California to see the rally. I was trying to figure out a way to invite her to join us, and I could take her to her hotel (and I could stop by the mall). I had to figure out how to explain it to my wife, and see if there was room for five in my little Prius. She wanted to head out with us, and I thought I'd have an opportunity to ask. Then P said "we should wait for your wife and J" and she said "if you're going to wait, I'll be heading out" and she took off. I think I found someone interested in my Meg side, but when she heard "wife" decided to avoid confrontation.

The drive home was fine. My feet were still good, and I enjoy driving dressed.

We got home, and I said I was going to change.

My plan was to not change right away. I planned to have something to eat or drink (I hadn't done either since the previous night, except for coffee), and maybe talk about the rally, and check on the tapes. Or I might have said "I'm going to change into something more comfortable." I had a top and skirt put aside to change into, just to keep the "joke" going. That would have been funny (to me at least) but a bit risky.

But the boys were home. I went upstairs and saw my youngest first. He looked at me and said "hi" like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then the older boy came out of his room and I turned toward him and he didn't say anything. I said "hi kid. How do you like my costume?" He just said "Ohhh Kaaaay" and I went into my bedroom to change. Later he said he thought some woman had come home with us.

I cleaned up, showered, changed, and went downstairs to rejoin our guests.

No-one really talked about the costume. No questions, no comments.... I really don't know what to make of that.

I was really hoping to open a dialogue with P, mostly so I could get a civilian's point of view, and maybe get some questions that I can't answer, answered. I'm still hopeful, but there's been no response to yesterday's e-mail (although we've written on other topics).

There's one more rally report post I have, but it's a part of the story that's not yet done.

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Rally Report VI: Mythbusters

OK, I was wrong yesterday. There will be at least one more report after this. Maybe two.

The rally started with a pre-pre-show at 10, which was all on-screen: they played all of the clips about the rally from both shows, plus some musical numbers from each show.

At noon, the pre-show started, with a visit from the Mythbusters. I know about this show. I've never seen it. I don't watch much television.

They decided to make use of the crowd in a couple of experiments. They said the 150,000 person sample size exceeded their previously largest sample size by about 150,000.

The first experiment involved the wave. They started a wave in the front and timed how long it took to get to the back. Then they pitted the women against the men. When they told the women to wave, I dutifully joined in. When they had the men wave, I passed. I had considered doing both, but that felt wrong. This felt right. I wish I had looked to see how my companions (especially P) had responded to that

The men's wave was two seconds faster. The mythbusters ignored a more interesting fact ~ it took almost twice as long for half the crowd to wave: 30 seconds for everyone; almost a minute for the gender-split waves.

They also did dueling waves, from front to back and back to front at the same time.

They had us make a series of sounds in response to cues. Laugh, evil laugh, and some others. I had to pass on the "cheek pop." There are, of course, three ways to get this sound. One is to pucker and puff out your cheeks and slap your cheek. Or you can pucker and puff out your cheeks and hit your mouth straight on. Or you can put a finger in your mouth and flick at your cheek from the inside.

I knew, no matter how I did it, it would fatally affect my makeup. I had to pass.

They also set up a seismometer to see if 150,000 people jumping simultaneously would cause a ripple. I hesitated, because of the heels, but I jumped. I probably didn't jump as hard as I could, but I jumped.

The seismometer reading was minimal. But the next day, there was a water main break right near the mall. I do wonder about that.

Looking back, I think it's interesting that I fell comfortably into the female role, really for the first time. For a long time, I didn't. Flying, I didn't at the start of the trip but by the end I think I did.

This time, it was more me than a role. I felt that I looked right, and I didn't have to think about every little thing as much as I had in the past. I was conscious of and accommodating to my uncomfortable friend, but I mostly was just another woman in a crowd. As I said, maybe that added to his discomfort.

That's not my problem. I was being myself, and loving it.

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Rally Report V: The Rally

I didn't do enough. We were packed in and I was afraid to venture far from where we were. I saw a couple of people with O'Donnell signs and I wanted to head over to them and say hi and that I resent the one with a huge picture and the word "Teatard" next to it (or at least ask what it meant :) ).

As you saw in my Notes post, I was sitting next to someone with a paper O'Donnell mask. I chatted with her a bit, but it was hard to hear and be heard over the crowd. I complimented people on their signs or commented on their costumes and a few people, unbidden, did the same to me. One woman wanted not only my picture but one of my name tags. I said "when I try to do that to other women, I get slapped."

I didn't get to use most of my lines, and I had a LOT. Some were O'Donnells, some were mine, some were extensions of things she said. I think I'll leave them unsaid here. I've mentioned where I stand politically, but that's definitely not the focus of these pages. Except for a punchline, I try to stay away from politics. Maybe someday I'll do a political blog ("The Megaphone" perhaps).

The rally was great. I don't know what else to say. It did seem to be stuck in the 80s. Father Guido Sarducci, Yusef Islam (Cat Stevens), Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (who was great in Airplane!), the O'Jays, R2-D2.... But that's OK by me. I'm stuck in the late 60s.

P and I lost the other ladies as we were approaching Independence Avenue. They were right in front of us and then they weren't. Each had a dying cell phone, and it was almost impossible to make a connection anyway. We eventually crossed and waited on 4th, trying to call. That's where P took this picture. Notice all of the people completely ignoring me. When you decide to go out, forget about blending in. You'll blend in just fine.

I thought I was going to give in and put on my flats at this point. It felt like I had a pebble in my shoe and walking was becoming uncomfortable. Since the women had the shoes, that wasn't going to happen right away. I took off my shoe and found no pebble but I did find the seam on my tights bunched up around my big toe. I straightened that out and I was good to go. I do need to practice taking off and putting on and buckling straps on shoes and still looking like a lady. It feels awkward and I keep thinking "how can I avoid giving everyone a show?"

Sometimes, I was very aware of how I was dressed. Mostly, I was just me. The Meg me. Maybe that was also part of P's discomfort. Maybe if I lumbered around or acted more like a caricature of a woman, he'd feel better.

The rally was great. I felt great. I would've been more than happy to hit the shopping mall to show myself off to my manicurist, and maybe get dinner, and spend the evening dressed. It didn't happen that way.

I was surprised how easy it was to just forget it was all a costume. I look back and feel a bit embarrassed, not so much because I was dressed, but because of the costume aspect when I was outside of the rally. I could have taken off the name tags, but then P would just be walking with a guy in a dress, which I thought might be more of a problem for him.

Mostly, I felt good, I felt natural, and I felt right. Some of my discomfort, and some of what held me back from mingling more, was my natural introversion, the difficulty getting around the crowds in even my low heels, and my voice. It really bothers me that I might pass visually, but as soon as I open my mouth, I'm sprung.

Oh.... Remember my short short list? I brought my purse, my flats, the chairs. I forgot to put new tapes in the VCR. I called my son before the rally started and got him to put in tapes. I made several copies onto DVD. If anyone missed the rally and wants one, let me know and I'll see what I can do.

I think this is the penultimate rally report.

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Dilemma + Slightly Sad

Sad: They've been splitting, so I had to cut my nice rounded nails down.

Dilemma: I've been chatting with P via e-mail today. I'm jumping ahead in the Rally Report, but one of the things he said to me as we were coming home was "we should go out to some bars. You can be my wingwoman."

I didn't know what to say to that ~ it was totally unexpected. And I hadn't heard of the concept of "wingwoman" before. I didn't get a chance to answer ~ he turned to the other women and repeated it while I was left to ponder.

Today, I found this link. I sent it to P in an e-mail under the subject Maybe You Had the Right Idea. I wrote "There's money to be made!"

We had a little back-and-forth on this, mostly about his experience with being at concerts/bars/etc with another woman and women seeming to be more interested when he had someone else's attention.

I've been trying to figure out what I should do with this. I see this as an opportunity. I'm not sure if it's an opportunity to have some fun or come out to an old friend. I'm not sure how it'll be taken, considering how he behaved that day.

I sent out a short message last night:

I'd never heard of a "wingwoman" before. I guess that happens when you're out of the pickup loop as long as me. I'm sure I could've found something more appropriate to wear and done wingwoman duty for the night.

Let's see what he says to that.

I was thinking of sending a picture of me in more of a going-out dress, but I decided against that for the obvious reason, plus I don't have time to hunt for a picture tonight.

Early morning update: P wrote on another topic, ignoring this one. I'm still wondering what to do next. I think I'll have to just drop it. I think he wants to remain in denial and probably regrets the statement.

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Rally Report Part IV: The Eagle Has Landed

When we left, the boys were still asleep. I tried to not think about what they'd say when I got home. Or what I'd say when I got home.

My long short list was now just:

SETUP VCRS, CHANGE TAPES: I wanted to tape the rally on two VCRs in case one failed. I had programmed them a few days before, but they were taping in the meantime (things like the Daily Show) and I wanted to have a fresh tape in each. Yes, I still use tapes.
bring: purse: I won't go far without it. I have my car key in there
flats: just in case the heels don't work out
chairs: one for each of us

I made a couple of trips out to the car to get out the chairs and other items we were bringing. In the past, I was very careful when I'd go out the door. I didn't want my neighbors to see me. Today was different. There were already a couple of strangers around the house; one more probably wouldn't attract attention. If she did attract attention, well, it was a costume, right? I'll take it in stride.

So, of course, no-one was there.

My wife suggested that she drive, as she was worried about my driving in heels. I said "no, I'll give it a try." No-one else wondered about it.

The parking lot was surprisingly empty. Most people probably thought they'd get there at noon and that would be that. HA! One helpful website suggested going to the end of the train line to park, further from the city. This is a Bad Idea. A close-in station might have people coming in a two or three mile radius. The end-of-the-line station might have people coming from fifty miles away. I chose among the nearby stations, and picked the one with the most parking.

Even though there were only two further stations, the train was standing room only. We moved into the middle of the car. I chatted with my friends and people-watched. I noticed four 20-something women standing near the door. They seemed to be two friends and two other random riders. I saw one look at me, kind of out of the corner of my eye. Then, still looking at me, she said something to her friend who looked at me as well. Then the other two women looked at me. After they went back to their lives, the first woman was still looking at me. I looked straight at her and smiled. I'm sure she was pointing out that I was clearly going to the rally since I was wearing a nice suit ~ obviously a costume. I dismissed the thought that she was saying "who does he think he's kidding?" If my wife wasn't with me, I might've gone up to say hello. It's a small chance, but I might've. I was feeling confident.

Both P & J like to engage strangers. They were chatting with people in the seats around us as we rode in. I didn't talk much because my voice works best when it's soft and there are no train noises. I did convince a couple of people around us to get off at a different station than they were planning to. It worked out for them, I think. There was a fence blocking off the back section and if they went to the station they were planning, they would be behind the fence. We were in front, in the first section. If you look at a wide picture, we were between the front two sound tents, much closer to the left one, facing the stage. The photo here is from the stage. We're at about where that second white sign to the left of the white tent is.

When we got out of the station, I tried to get my bearings and failed to follow my first rule: use my gut feeling and go in the opposite direction. We walked about a half-block before P asked someone if they're going to the rally. He said yes, and he was, not surprisingly, walking in the opposite direction from us. We turned and started walking.

As we got closer to the mall, P started walking ahead, to scout out and see where we're supposed to go. At least that gave me a chance to say "why do guys always have to rush ahead and leave the women to walk behind them?"

I'm still not sure how we got to the spot we did. We stopped a couple of times, once further back (we thought we could do better), once closer in (we thought we could get more room).

The jumbotrons were alive, playing musical numbers taken from the two shows. We were there. We could barely see the stage, but we picked up rally towels, little rally signs (I went with the "Fear" sign), and a couple of megaphones.

And I was all dressed up in a sea of 250,000 people.

It doesn't get any better.

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Wouldn't This Be Great?

More rally report tomorrow.

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Please Read...

...the comments from yesterday's post. Two anonymous readers, who I'll call Pat and Louise, because that's what they call themselves, started an interesting dialogue. Both make good points and it's a thoughtful follow-up to my comments on how P reacted to me and why I think he did.

Yesterday, in an e-mail P wrote:

I hope there's a next time and they can cover the mall with electronics. Also: we'll be there at 7! unless your having a problem with you girdle or sumptin'.

I followed up with

Admit it. I looked pretty good. Not MILF good, but pretty good.

We discussed some political things, and other rally post-mortem in yesterday's e-mail exchanges, but he ignored this comment.

I'm wondering if I should re-open the issue. This is a chance to get into the mind of a civilian!

I'll be back on rally report in a day or two. I want to respond to one thing Louise wrote:

How does your wife really feel about you? Did she find out by accident?

I can't think of the right word to describe my wife's feelings. On the accepting-indifferent-hostile scale, she's a bit to the right of indifferent.

She doesn't want to see pictures of Meg. She says "I know what she looks like ~ you in makeup." She didn't try to deter me from going to the rally dressed, except mildly. She has been more forceful in the past, although she has never said "no you can't." She has told me in strong terms that she doesn't like my shaving. I told her it's important to my self-image, but I'll refrain except when I'm going out. She agreed to this. She knows when I go out, because I tell her. She knows if I'm alone for a few hours, I'll be dressed. She knows if she goes away with the boys over night, I'll probably be out. I don't know if she knows I dress when I travel. I'm not sure I mentioned it.

Short short answer: she's not happy, but she can ignore the elephant in the room.

As for the second part: for reasons I won't mention, how she found out is something that won't be addressed in the blog. I may change my mind in the future. I know spouse is the big coming out story, but... sorry. This is a secret. I have very few. Ask me anything else.

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Rally Report Part III: Presenting Christine O'Donnell!

The boys were asleep in their respective bedrooms. I didn't make too much noise walking the length of the hall and down the stairs in my heels. Another deep breath and I turned the corner and walked into the kitchen. P had his back to me; I could see J's profile. I'm not sure where my wife was; she was in the kitchen somewhere, but my focus was on the people who didn't know what to expect.

J turned to me, looked me over, and said nothing. I said "Hi. I'm Christine O'Donnell. Remember to vote for me on Tuesday." J stood up, said "Oh. My. God. I can't believe it!" and started laughing. She proceeded to babble about how she thought it would be nothing, and didn't expect this and on. P now turned towards me and said...

...nothing.

I would love to know what he was thinking. I should have said "what are you thinking?" or at least "what do you think?"

Later, I asked J what she thought when I came in. She said "I was wondering which female relative I had never met just came in. I knew it wasn't your sister; I've met her. And K [wife] only has brothers. If you didn't say anything, I would never have known."

I didn't ask P the same question. I would have, if he wasn't so uneasy. I still might. I should. He did volunteer on the train ride back "I keep hearing and I look down and see... that!" A seat had opened by that point, and since P is a gentleman, I sat. His remark prompted the woman in front of us to turn around and started a conversation about the rally. She came in from San Francisco to see it.

Back at home....

My wife was making breakfast for her and our guests. I passed, partly because I didn't want to be sitting in a port-a-potty later in the day. I did have some coffee.

I'm going to break off the narrative to talk about something I've thought about a lot: why guys might have a problem with us.

P and I both admire women. We express it differently. I express it via the thought that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. He expresses it via the thought I wonder what she'd look like without clothes. Well, yeah, I do that too, but I also know what I'd do with the clothes once she has them off. P probably doesn't care if they're still wearable after they're off.

Straight guys like him look at women as potential partners. All women, all the time. And then they look at a woman who's, well, not a woman, and half of their brain says "bed?" and the other half says "with a guy? Are you nuts?"

And "straight" is important. Kinda bi, or even a little bi, and I don't think they'd be as uncomfortable. 100% gay guys might, but for the opposite reason: here's a potential partner but he looks like a girl! I really don't think that would happen. In my experience, gay guys are more flexible than straight guys. I've seen a gay man kiss a man and then kiss a woman. It's much less likely I'd see a straight guy do that. I would be uncomfortable kissing a man. But one gay man I asked said that kissing a woman is "nothing. There's no feeling. It's like kissing a block of wood." There's something different there that I won't pretend to understand. I suppose actors of all orientations can do that same detachment.

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Rally Report Part II: Where to Begin?

'Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.'

We say a darn good performance of "Hair" at the Kennedy Center Friday night. The only thing that spoiled it was some idiot singing all of the songs with the cast... never mind. That was me.

Manchester England England, across the Atlantic Sea, and I'm a genius genius. I believe in God, and I believe that God believes in Claude ~ That's me!

It ended at 10, but good ol' Washington construction meant it took close to an hour to travel the quarter mile to the bridge to get to Virginia. Our friends were there, we spent some time catching up, and bedtime came well after midnight. I know you can't tell, but I NEED MY BEAUTY SLEEP. I set my alarm for 5:45, figuring if I rush I can be ready in 90 minutes and we can get out at 7:15.

Not unexpectedly, I woke up early. I've been doing that every night for the past couple of weeks. This is normal pre-outing jitters, at least for me. (If anyone wants to share what's normal for them, y'all know how to reach me.) My hands looked pretty good from the waxing a few days earlier. I shaved close ~ close enough that I could feel only smoothness no matter which way I rubbed my hand on my face and neck. I touched up my chest and back of neck, and went over my arms again. My legs were good enough, behind tights.

Quick shower, then on to the makeup.

You know, it seems easy, unless you're doing it. My wife was doing hers and she'd keep saying "you're doing that the hard way. Watch" and she'd pull out a trowel and spackle and put on her foundation in about a second.

She doesn't understand: there are conflicting goals. I'd like to do it quickly, but putting on makeup is kind of zen. It's calming. It's relaxing. I focus totally on what I'm doing. Generally, no matter how nervous I am at the beginning, by the time I get to my mascara I'm calm and steady.

One other thing. I know some of my readers are where I was a few years ago: putting on makeup used to cause, um, a noticeable reaction. Heck, putting on ANYTHING femme used to do that. But that's a big part of why we do this, true?

I did say it was "generally" calming, didn't I? Saturday was a bit different, probably because of the opening audience. This was friends ~ pretty new and a bit scary. Somewhat scary. Mildly terrifying, and considering that, I was calm-ish.

My hands were steady when I got to my eyes. Since she was still there, I asked my wife to do my liner. She kind of slapped it on, but it looked OK. I did the bottom ~ she said "doing the bottom makes your eyes look smaller". I have two reasons for doing the bottom (about 2/3 of the outside, not all of the way around). First, I love that look. Second, Christine O'Donnell lines her eyes like that. I offered my wife the second reason.

She was done and left.

You'll be surprised to know that I look a bit different when I'm not Meg. To get from Me to Meg requires following my shave with:

Putting in contact lenses.
Moisturiser. This helps the foundation go on smoother. I NEVER skip this step, now that I discovered it.
Cover stick. Under eyes, above lips. Blend with finger.
Primer. This is new. The woman at Sephora gave me two samples ~ one for face but not eyes; one for eyes. I like it. I shall buy more.
Foundation. Apply with fingers or sponge. I think I get more control with fingers.
Brow pencil. Yes, I need to learn how to brush on brow colour. Pencil isn't ideal.
Eye liner.
Mascara. Usually two coats, then curl lashes. Some books say curl first. I need a quality curler.
Eye shadow. The Sephora lady drew a picture to show where I should use each colour. Very handy.
Blush. I know this can be used to contour your face, but I don't know how. Ditto for bronzer.
Lipstick and lip gloss. No liner today. Apply lipstick with a brush. Gurls, if you haven't done that, TRY IT. Tell me what you think.
Powder.

Before I did all the makeup I had put a band-aid on each little toe, to inhibit the blisters I get with some shoes. Then I put on panties and tights.

Now I was *finally* ready to get dressed.

Cinch, bra, pads. Someday, I'll shave my chest and try to glue the pads on. Just to try it. Maybe I can see how I look braless.
Full slip. I didn't need it; the suit was lined. I wore it because I wanted to add a layer, even though it was a light layer, and I Like Slips.
T-shirt and skirt.
Small silver hoop earrings, pearl necklace and bracelet. Christine always seems to wear pearls and hoops. I have never seen her wearing a ring. Too bad. I like rings.

Let me pause for a second and simply say I LIKE ALL OF IT. OK? I admit it.

Brush out wig. Someone gave me a tip: hold the wig against the wall and brush it that way. Layer the brushing. Start at the ends and do a few inches. When the tangles are gone, move up a few more inches. This prevents trying to yank out long tangles.
Jacket and my name tags.
Shoes!

Almost ready to go....

Make sure my glasses (in a case), a contact case, drivers license, cash, credit card, a metro fare card for each of us, lipstick, lip gloss, powder, and my cel phone are all in my purse.

Take purse. Check mirror. Take deep breath, hold doorknob until breathing is normal.

I need to add: after I put on my wig I looked in the mirror and said "no." I didn't look femme enough. I looked like a guy with makeup on.

If I was alone, planning an outing, I might have said "no" and stayed home. I didn't have that choice today.

One more deep breath. Open door.

It's time for my entrance!

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A Couple of Notes from the Rally

I'm working on a fuller report. Honest. In the meantime....

During the pre-show, the guys from Mythbusters did a couple of experiments. One involved how long it would take to do a wave from the front of the crowd to the back. (Roughly thirty seconds, for the record.) Then they decided to time the women against the men. I thought about it for a second, and dutifully waved with the women and sat it out for the men.

As part of the show Colbert and Stewart sang a song. On the monitors there were words and a bouncing ball you could follow (does anyone remember them?). Except at one point Jon Stewart changed the words to "men and women and the genders in between". I felt that, not only was he talking to me, he correctly used the word "gender" instead of "sex".

I mentioned to the other Christine (she got her mask from huffingtonpost.com) that I bet it took her less time to put her face on than for me. She agreed. She also offered to shake hands and said "I'm Tisha." I said, "hi. I'm Christine." She said "you're staying with that, huh?" I smiled.

If you enlarge the photo, you can read my name tags.

I just had a thought.... Should I write P and say "admit it. I looked pretty darn good"?

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Rally Report Part I: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

I'm behind on life right now, but it was worth it. What it means to you is I'm going to be a bit slow writing about the rally. I've been scribbling notes, but they all have to come together. I am not a natural writer, so I can't just dash off a post, or a work document, or (much as I'd like) a book quickly and easily. I write, read, re-write, re-read, re-write. That's the minimum.

So I may have some filler (cartoons I like) over the next few days, but I'd also like to get the rally report underway.

This blog centers around two major events in my life. Many of you have similar events and understand that each can be exciting, fun, invigorating, life-changing, and scary as hell.

I'm talking about going out and coming out.

Even while I was putting my makeup on Saturday morning, I was thinking, "maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't do this" and I almost stopped and removed what I had on. I could have said "it just didn't come together." I got the feeling from J that she didn't really know what I had planned, although my wife had mentioned it to her. I think she expected it more to be signage or a witch's hat or something subtle. I'm not known for theatrics.

And although I felt I should have given P and J a heads-up, the conversation never went there. This meant I got to do An Entrance. That's for another day. This is a coming out post.

They were both surprised. Each commented separately about how comfortable I was. J mentioned my ease walking in heels a couple of times.

My wife's been surprisingly good about this. I owe her extra consideration in exchange. I didn't say "I go out a few times a year" mostly out of that consideration. The rest is because I didn't want to make this a day about me.

I did say "my balance is pretty good. I've done some yoga and standing on the toes of one foot with my eyes closed was easy. Besides, the heels are kinda chunky and not that high." J, who teaches yoga, was satisfied.

P would have gone to DC if I said "nothing's going on, but there will be lots of women there." It's kind of a hobby with him. OK, it's kind of an obsession with him. He's with the majority of the readers here, I'm sure.

Let me just say, it took P a while to get used to me.

He wasn't hostile. He wasn't indifferent. He wasn't comfortable.

P's normal mode is a mixture of mellow and anxious and one never knows which is going to take over. For instance, we were in a hurry to get out of the house ~ he took his time. After we got off the train, he rushed ahead to see where we were going (which gave me a chance to say "don't you hate it when the guys race ahead and leave us women behind?").

I'll get more into details over the next rally posts.

The key here is, neither asked. I didn't tell.

No-one said "have you done this before?" J assumed my wife did my makeup and commented on what a good job she did. I didn't correct her, although I considered it. P glumly asked if I "had stuff" in my purse. When I asked "like what?" He said "lipstick." I said "yes." He said "tampons." I said "at my age?" He proceeded to tell me J's bag opened yesterday and he proceeded to go through what fell out.

The way he said "lipstick" made me think "OK. Unless he gets more used to this idea, I am not going to touch up my lipstick/gloss later. I could feel the gloss wanted refreshing later, but it didn't get it. That's a small pleasure I passed by ~ I enjoy touching up my makeup.

It doesn't mean this won't get revisited, through e-mail or a phone call, but I consider it over.

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Interview Drag

Not really, but a bit.

(The rally report is coming. I promise!)

My only dress shoes are from Aerosoles. They look male at a glance; not if you take a close look. Because they're a bit tight, I wear trouser socks (or black tights) underneath. I'm always of two minds as to whether I should wear my charm bracelet or take it off. I'd have the same issue if I had a tattoo that might show, or wore an earring. Does it seem "in" or does it distract? So far, I've left it on.

I'd love to wear a women's shirt with my suit, but there's something a bit funky with the collars and ties do not seem to sit right. I'm not sure what it is. But if I could find the right shirt, then the suit and tie would be the only parts that are male and I'd enjoy my interviews more.

At least I got to wear a real suit on Saturday (as you're all probably sick of seeing by now). I'd love to wear that to interviews!

Did you ever notice "androgynous" or "unisex" means women wearing clothes that men might wear, and not really the other way around? The only example I can think of (and yes, it's a biggie) was when long hair became acceptable.

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