Working Backwards

I've been out a few times, events I haven't written about yet.  I'm going to start with the most recent: last Saturday.

Saturday was Kim's biggest, best clothing swap yet.  It was publicised on the local t-groups.  There were vendors, raffles, food, and 300 or so women there.  I'd say there were maybe eight t's among the g's.

Typical scene (it might be wider than the screen; a click will help):

Anyone see Waldo?

At one point, many of the local girls sat down for a bite:

That's Kelly up front on the right, and Star and Andrea on the left.  I think that's a bit of Steffi behind Kelly, and Stephie is looking at the camera from the back.  I think Sharon was Desperately Seeking a Non-Ham Sandwich. :)

At one point, someone came up to me and told me she was a member of Christine's trans-group but I had no idea who she was: for some reason, she was dressed as a guy.  To each their own.

Alas, I wasn't in the pictures, since someone had to wield the camera.   I wore a blue maxi-dress and slides, and since Charity had to work, I got to practice my own makeup for a change.

I spoke to a number of women there, mostly little things: comments on their haul or what they were looking at.  At one point I said "I was hoping you'd put that down" and I snatched up a top (8P ~ it went down again).

I also spoke to one woman and asked to take her picture ~ I said she had "won first place:" she was carrying three huge bags full of clothing.  She laughed and said "I was trying to keep a low profile."

It was a long walk back to the car and along the way a woman who was just getting there asked where the

entrance was (I told her, and told her it was nearly over ~ she said she was picking up a friend).  In the parking lot, another woman said "how'd you do?" and we briefly compared notes.

I figure either (a) I pass pretty well, or (b) people are fine with how I present.  Either way is fine with me and proved once again that a swap is a great and safe place to go out and mingle with civilians, especially if you're like I was when I started going out: I did not want to interact with men.  Almost no men there, except for one vendor and Kim's husband and he's as accepting as anyone I ever met.  And that girl dressed in guy clothes.

So, how did I do?  I had brought in several very nice dresses, a skirt, and a blouse (none fit well) and I was happy to see that they all found new homes.  I didn't see a lot that I wanted to bring home, but I found a dress that Charity might like and a couple of tank-top-style camis for me.

Star and Andrea had mentioned to Charity that they'd maybe like to get together for dinner that evening.  Steffi was stag (doe?) that weekend and asked if she could come along.  We happily agreed, and the five of us had dinner at a local Tex-Mex restaurant.  Steffi went shopping and on other errands; I wore the same outfit I had to the swap.  It was pretty comfortable and kinda cute.  Alas, I forgot to get pictures of our gang.

For those keeping track, I didn't need to use the ladies' room at either the swap or the restaurant.  Even with a margarita.  (At the restaurant, not the swap.)

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My Second Soiree, Part I

A month or so ago, I finally managed to get out to one of Christine's lovely soirees.

I had limited experience flocking with birds of my particular feather, and didn't quite know what to expect.  It was like an all-girl cocktail hour before a wedding or other catered affair.  What was missing was the cliques.  I've been to many events: weddings, funerals, bnai mitzvahs, business seminars or conferences that have a pre-event shmooze.  They all have something in common: groups that move together.  They might be family or friends or people who are at their ninth user conference and they find familiar faces and they hang together.  Sometimes, I'm the only lone person at an event, or I'm part of a pair that I'm reluctant to let go of.  I'm not anxious to cast off in a gale, so I stay tied to the dock.

There is some anxiety tied to this.  Sometimes, there is a lot of anxiety.  At least once, I fled a "happy hour."  At least once, I skipped the main event in order to escape and calm down.

Most of the girls knew each other.  Some did not.  But random girls came up to me and chatted.  I went up to random girls and did the same.

No sign of cliques.

As I said, I had a good time.  I was looking forward to my second soiree.

"Casual elegance" read the invitation.  If you're like me, you choose clothing differently whether you're going in drab or dressed.  If you're invited to something you're going to attend as a male and you don't know what to wear, you start at the bottom and work up: will a t-shirt and jeans work?  Should I "up" to a polo shirt?  Button down shirt?  Maybe go to khakis?  Are tennis shoes OK?  Maybe work boots or boat shoes.

But I work from the bottom, and suspect most males do the same.

If I'm invited to something as my female self, I work from the top.  I think many of us do the same: can I wear a cocktail dress and my pearls and platform pumps?  Maybe not.  Maybe a party dress and pendant and chandelier earrings, but I can still work those pumps.  Probably too overdressed ~ maybe a sheath and open-toed sandals and that jewelry will still work.

And down to overdressed but not too much.

But girls together are going to dress UP.  I saw everything from minis to gowns.

I don't have a gown I would wear, and I still don't want to be too overdressed.  I have some dresses I would call "party" dresses and I wore one last time.  I wore a different one this time.  This was a new dress, expensive (for me) but it had the price beat out of it at Nordstrom's Rack.

It was cold and I was going to wear tights but Charity talked me into wearing my new patterned hose.  I think it was a good call.  They are pretty.  I had new blue patterned platform pumps that I bought pretty much to wear with this dress, but they didn't fit right and I decided to pass and save them in the hopes I can get them stretched a bit.  Or my feet will shrink a bit.  You never know.

This soiree's first: Andrea and Star and Sharon were going to meet at the apartment and we'd all go together.

I've been here for five months and, other than Charity, I've never had a visitor.  We cleaned the heck out of the place and we were so excited to have guests that we didn't even remember to give a little tour (how long can it take?) and get a picture of the five of us.  Ah well.

More tomorrow.  Here are pictures of the five of us ~ Sharon at the party; the rest pre-party.

Star and Andrea

Sharon

A rare photo of Charity on her phone!

My Dinner With Andre(a). And More

There's not much to say, other than it's nice to spend time with someone who knows about Meg.

Afterwards, I spent a lot of time thinking about how nice it was to spend time and have a nice dinner together, and how sad it was that there is only a small circle of friends I can do this with.

I think I need to expand that circle, but I'm also keenly aware of the problem Pandora had.  I don't consider crossdressing an evil let out on the world, but I do know it won't go back in the box once released.

I think I've reached the point where, if it ever came up, I would 'fess up.  For instance, on Friday I left the house without taking a critical look at how I looked.  Later, in front of the restroom mirror at work I did.  I was wearing a camisole under a polo shirt and although you couldn't see the green-blue lace trim on the front of the turquoise cami, you could easily see the thin straps and adjusters from the back.  It was early in the day and I thought of taking it off, but I went through a couple of quick scenarios instead: they started with a variation of "what are you wearing under your shirt?" and the best response would be "a camisole.  I usually wear one under my shirt."  Any follow-up questions could be answered honestly and move the conversation forward to a possibly uncomfortable but definitely open conclusion.  ("Why?"  "Because I like the feel.")

Any near-open response could lead to follow-up questions that are not only confrontational instead of conversational, but would make it seem I was hiding something.  My "something to keep me warm" could provoke a "what, exactly?" or "I've never seen an undershirt with straps like that."  It's hard to follow up without challenging back or seeming embarrassed at being "caught."  I'm not interested in challenge; I'm interested in enlightenment.  And I'm through hiding.

I'm just through.

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Girls' Night Out

Liz caught Dorothy, Meg, and Aeify

We went from the mall to the hotel to a nice Chinese restaurant.  Stopping at the hotel to freshen up meant no ladies' room challenges for me this day.  I don't know if that's good or bad.  I need to do that more, but it makes me really nervous.

We had five for dinner.  Liz asked some friends if they could join us, but no-one could.  Maybe next time.  I wanted to limit the dinner to eight.  I really would prefer to meet each person individually first ~ I can't hear well over background noise so it's hard to follow dinner party conversations unless I'm sitting right next to someone.  But if I know something about the other people I can maybe figure out what I couldn't hear and enjoy it more.  And, even though Meg isn't quite the introvert I am, she's more comfortable with fewer strangers.

So we had Liz, Dorothy, Andrea (from the hotel), Aeify, and me.  And a great time.  If you stood us in a line we were gg, tg, gg, tg, gg.  That's better than boy-girl-boy-girl any day!

The food was OK, but I didn't really care.  I had fun; I hope we all did.  Liz sat on my right hand, Aeify on my left.  I am now trying very hard not to say how hard it was to eat with someone sitting on each of my hands.

We talked abaout work, and people, and our own little kinks (Liz seemed immune), and a little of everything.

Aeify, Liz, Meg, Dorothy.  Andrea didn't want to be seen.

After dinner, we adjourned to the parking lot where we talked some more.  I finally had to break it up so I could get changed and to bed ~ Aeify and I had to get to the airport early.  Although Aeify's flight was at least an hour later than mine, I talked her into coming down with me so we could say goodbye.

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Or What?

So it's Friday night and I'm in a strange town and I'm looking for a dressy Meg activity.

I can dress like I just got off work and stop at the mall ~ that's always a possibility, but I don't really need to mingle with the teens who are hanging at the mall.

I could do dinner, but my plans were for a later dinner with Aeify (her blog is here) when she arrives.

So I checked the local synagogues.  I go to services occasionally, more often when my boys were younger than now; this year, I haven't been since October.

For those unfamiliar, there are three main branches of Judaism:

* Orthodox, where men and women sit separately and there are three services a day.  I wasn't sure where I'd sit so that's out.
* Conservative, which is more egalitarian but they usually focus on the Saturday morning service.  This is where I grew up.
* Reform, which I usually attend.  There's more of a Hebrew/English mix and the tunes would be more familiar to me.  Friday night is the big service of the week, with Saturday morning a close second.
* (and Reconstructionist, which is more fringe and I've never been)

So I looked for reform synagogues and found Or Chadash, which billed itself as "A warm and welcoming community where all can experience God."  I looked at their calendar and found a discrepancy so I sent an e-mail asking which time was right.  The woman who wrote back said I'd be "welcome at any service" and told me the main service starts at 6:30.

It was also the closest to my hotel, a plus for me.  Google maps said it was about 20 minutes away.  It looked pretty straightforward: turn right, turn left and that's the road it's on.

I got out of work a bit later than I wanted and people were still trying to get last minute advice.  My 2:00 leave turned into 2:25 and I headed for Tucson.

Andrea was off; there were a couple of guys behind the desk.  I checked in, carrying three bags: computer, suitcase, and a smaller bag with Meg stuff.  Not all of Meg's stuff, but the bag was crammed,

Earlier in the week I did a dry run.  I tried my makeup and decided I didn't like either mascara so I bought a new one.  I tried an eyeshadow that looked too dark so I switched to a lighter blue for my lids.  I tried each of the lipsticks and glosses and found a combination I liked (but didn't love).  I tried different jewelry combinations until I found the one I like best.  I wanted to video chat with a friend or two, but the wifi at this hotel is pathetic.  Regular web pages would time out.  I passed on that potential frustration.

So I had sorted everything I was going to wear and put the makeup and jewelry together with undergarments and such in that bulging bag.

I was at the hotel with plenty of time for a leisurely shower and thorough shave and to correct any mistakes I might make while doing my face.  I didn't do anything that needed repair, but I wasn't really thrilled with the final product.  Something didn't look quite right to my eyes.

I wanted to leave at 6.  Any earlier and I'd have too much time before the service started.  The time before Jewish services is a social time, and although meeting people is bothering me less, I didn't want to be the only person who knew no-one and I'd be staring at my hands.  I didn't want to be late, but if I had to sit in the car for a couple of minutes to be just about on time, that would be OK.  Since the ride was straightforward and google said 20 minutes, I figure a couple of minutes after six would be fine.

As I said, google said it was a straightforward trip.  My GPS had other ideas.

It said it was a 30 minute drive, not 20, said the GPS.  OK, I did leave at 6 and I'd be about on time, even if google was wrong.  No worries.

As I drove down Alvernon, the long street that the synagogue was on, my GPS decided I needed to turn, that Alvernon did not continue.  I dutifully (stupidly) turned.

It had me make a couple of more turns, then wanted me to go onto a street clearly labelled "No Outlet."  I declined, and turned in what I thought was the right direction to rejoin Alvernon.

When I finally caught up with it, I ignored the lady's voice and just kept driving.  The GPS started showing no road, only green fields and she was silent.

Eventually, I was back on what the device thought was a road.  It told me to turn and I did not ~ no fooling me again!  Alas, now I was on a different road: Alvernon made a right turn and continued.  I went back past the turn and back again before I did make that turn.  Alvernon fooled me once more with another left and I went past it, turned around and went back.

I considered taking this as a sign and giving up... that's the funny thing about signs.  I was very late, but was it a sign that I should go home, or maybe I was supposed to avoid a problem at the start of the service, or maybe it was a test to see how committed I was to going to services that night.  Or maybe no-one was paying attention and I just went on aimlessly.  Or everyone was paying attention and they had bets on how late I'd be.

By the way, driving an hour in high-heels isn't bad at all.  Getting up is, since it puts more strain on your calf muscles as you're pressing the pedals and your foot has to straighten more.  I had an uncomfortable few steps until my legs settled down.

Or Chadash is a campus of several connected or nearly connected buildings.  I parked at the closest spot to the entrance where I saw cars, which meant it was furthest from where I wanted to be.

It was dark, but not yet cold.  I didn't have a coat but I felt fine.  My heels seemed to make a LOT of noise on the sidewalk and I walked past the office which was well lit and occupied and I'm sure people inside were wondering why some woman (hey, I was far away and it was dark) was walking to the services a half-hour late.

Oh... typical Friday night services are 60-90 minutes with an "oneg" afterwards: wine, bread, other assorted fruits, cake, cookies, coffee.  So I missed somewhere between a third and a half of the service.  And I planned to skip the Oneg ~ Aeify would be waiting.

This is getting kind of long, so I'll finish this up tomorrow.

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I Know What You Did Last Weekend

This is just a "Oh My God! I ran out of time unpacking, running around, getting my expense report ready" preview of Tucson.

Friday night, I put on the dress I packed and went to services at a local reform synagogue. I then went back to the hotel where I went dinner with Aeify, who flew in from Memphis to get away from the place for a tiny bit.

Saturday morning, I put on a more casual top and skirt and went to breakfast with Aeify and Liz. Liz (Sonora Sage) showed us around the Sonora Desert Museum, including the raptor free flight, which was incredible, but hopefully not indescribable.

Aeify and I headed over to the Tucson mall to do a little window shopping before going to a Chinese restaurant with Liz, Andrea, and Dorothy.

All of the players were mentioned in previous posts, but I'll point you at them or remind you as I write about a wonderful weekend over the next few days.

There Will Be Pictures.

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Dinner with Dorothy, part II

Andrea took the pictures

Dorothy had a favourite Italian place picked out.  It was a longish drive and she drove.  I don't know the town and my eyes are not that happy at night.

Eventually, we arrived in a very active part of town.  She said it was near the uni, which probably accounts for a lot of the people in the streets.  It was like Georgetown in DC, or Provincetown on Cape Cod, or almost anywhere from midtown down in Manhattan, or Charlottesville in Virginia, or Chinatown in London. 

There were lots of college-age kids, lots of little boutique types of shops, lots of restaurants, and not a lot of parking.  Being Halloween week there were quite a few costumes.  We went into a shop that was selling costumes ~ I was tempted to buy something and change, but I'd rather be just me.  I go out so rarely, I want Meg to be out.  Maybe next Halloween I'll feel more comfortable in a girl costume.  Maybe something like an old western saloon girl dress, or maybe a Renaissance dress.  Or supergirl.

No idea why we traded places

There was a 30 minute wait for a table.  I was hungry, it was late, but I didn't even notice.  Dorothy is a wonderful woman.  She's very friendly and very likeable.  Some of the shopkeepers knew her and she more-or-less introduced herself to the ones who didn't.  I think I mentioned that she's like the anti-Meg.  I think if you averaged her outgoing attitude with my introversion you'd end up with a clear extrovert.

But we had fun, we talked non-stop, and if anyone was watching us, they would have thought we were lesbians.  Don't get the wrong idea!  By that I mean, we were both checking out the young ladies walking past.  There were some very pretty outfits on the ladies strutting past our table.  We both liked the waitress' skirts.

Afterwards, Dorothy asked our waitress if she could give us a "Kodak moment," and she happily obliged.

Then we chatted the whole ride back.

I already wrote about what happened back at the hotel, so you can just look here if you missed it.  Andrea was great, and a wonderful surprise ending to a wonderful evening.  Andrea took these pictures.  In the second, Dorothy was saying to me, in a sing-songy voice, "my boobs are bigger than your boobs."

I had promised to meet Liz and Erin at 9 the next morning.  I was still trying to stay on eastern time and not have to get up too much earlier than normal on Sunday, so I wanted to get up around 5.  I also already wrote about what happened after I went up to my room, so I won't bore you with that twice.

But I really didn't want the evening to end.  If I didn't have a full day planned for Saturday, I probably would have encouraged Dorothy to hang out and I would have stayed up all night with Dorothy and Andrea.  Maybe we would have invited the van driver to join us.

Dorothy, by the way, is divorced (the too-common story), and spends 90% of her non-work time as Dorothy.  I can only fantasize about what that's like.

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Dinner with Dorothy, part I

Tucson Arizona has about 520,000 people living there.  That comes out at about 2,800 people per square mile.

Fairfax County, where I live, has about twice as many people in about twice the area.  But Fairfax is weird.  In the middle of the county sit the cities of Alexandria (where I work), Arlington, Falls Church, Vienna, and Fairfax City.  Fairfax is pretty big and there are sections which are pretty underpopulated as opposed to the close-in suburbs.  Alexandria and Arlington together are about a quarter the size of Tucson but have over 340,000 people.  That's around 8,300 people per square mile.

I didn't know these numbers when I drove from Sierra Vista to Tucson but when I was warned there would be "lots of traffic," I considered that A Good Thing.

It meant I could leave early and co-workers will think I was smart because I was beating the traffic.  It also meant I didn't expect my trip to be any longer than usual.

Tucson traffic is to Washington-area traffic as a home aquarium is to Sea World.

So I started my day extra-early and left by 3 or so.

The plan was to meet Dorothy around 7, for dinner.  If I could get there early, Meg would join her.  If not, well, that was less than ideal but a possibility too.

I got to the hotel in plenty of time and Andrea (the "A" of recent posts ~ she said I could use her name) checked me in.

I'm probably going to repeat some of what I wrote starting with this post ~ I was pretty busy and disjointed last week and I'd like to try to be a bit more orderly.

At 5, it was time to get started.  I was in my room early enough to shower and moisturise and shave my face and touch up arms and chest ~ just a little bit.  I did my makeup and dressed and loaded my purse and put on my wig and jewelry and slipped into my shoes exactly at 7 ~ just as the phone rang.  It was Dorothy.  She had arrived.  She said she was going to look for a parking space but I said I could come out to the parking lot.

I stepped out of my room to an empty hallway.  I got into an empty elevator.  On the main level, I thought the lobby was to the right, but it was to the left.  I took a step to the right with my left foot, then realised I was going the wrong way so I crossed my leg and stepped to the left with my right foot.  I probably looked pretty stupid doing that, so, of course, I had an audience.  Someone was close by, also heading towards the lobby.  I walked on, with the gentleman right behind me.  I wonder if he would have offered to help me up if my manoeuver resulted in a fall.

Andrea was still behind the desk, and I saw only one other person ~ a woman sitting on a sofa which faced away from the front desk.

I have a habit of focussing.  I don't know if it's a bad habit, but it has served me poorly on occasion.  I am known to walk into a room of people I know, talk to the one I was planning on talking to and walking out ignoring the others, even if they're riding tigers or on fire.

My focus was on meeting Dorothy in the parking lot.  I smiled and nodded to Andrea, I looked at the woman on the sofa who said "hi."  I said "hi" back, because that's what Meg should do, right?  Internally, I noticed that she had a deepish voice, like mine, and maybe my voice is OK after all.  But I kept walking.

I didn't see Dorothy's car in front of the hotel, just the airport shuttle.  I went out to my car to grab something (I can't remember what now) and looked around.  Then I had a flash of insight and I called Dorothy.  She said "hello?"  and I said "did I just walk past you sitting in the lobby?"

Yup.

I didn't pick her.  She picked me, but thought I was trying to lose the guy who was close behind me!

I went back in, we said hellos, and went on our way.

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