For those unfamiliar, the blonde kid is Jeremy. The older folks are his parents. The kid with all the piercings is named, um Pierce. He's one of Jeremy's friends and one weird kid.
Enjoy!
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Trick And Treat
I've posted a Borgman cartoon once before, as a "Sunday funny." I really enjoy Zits, but this is the first Saturday-friendly one I've seen and I've been reading this strip since it came out.
For those unfamiliar, the blonde kid is Jeremy. The older folks are his parents. The kid with all the piercings is named, um Pierce. He's one of Jeremy's friends and one weird kid.
Enjoy!
For those unfamiliar, the blonde kid is Jeremy. The older folks are his parents. The kid with all the piercings is named, um Pierce. He's one of Jeremy's friends and one weird kid.
Enjoy!
Friday, June 29, 2012
Yesterday....
I stopped at my "real" home to make dinner for my son and pick up a couple of things I needed ~ part of the "bills you have to pay for living yesterday."
I also picked up a big box of shoes. My toe is deemed "cured." I hope to make an appointment for next week to get my back waxed, brows waxed, a manicure, and, of course, a pedicure. And I picked up the last box with clothing in it. It is full of the rest of my skirts and the rest of my camis. I still have dozens of dresses at the house. I'm not sure if there's some meaning behind that.
I also saw my EAP therapist. We talked relationship; I brought up dressing. I explained the care-don't care continuum. I told her a possible outcome would be I lose Meg and we all live happily ever after. She seemed surprised that I would even consider that. So I explained "purging" and how it's pretty common among crossdressers. Except this would be more than just a purge. And there's a problem: I certainly wouldn't be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was wrong. In fact, there's an incredibly slim possibility that I would be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was right.
The therapist had an excellent idea: we (the wife and I) should sit down together and decide what we both want and how to get there.
Except I need to find myself first, I think.
Yes, I definitely need to do that.
I think.
I also picked up a big box of shoes. My toe is deemed "cured." I hope to make an appointment for next week to get my back waxed, brows waxed, a manicure, and, of course, a pedicure. And I picked up the last box with clothing in it. It is full of the rest of my skirts and the rest of my camis. I still have dozens of dresses at the house. I'm not sure if there's some meaning behind that.
I also saw my EAP therapist. We talked relationship; I brought up dressing. I explained the care-don't care continuum. I told her a possible outcome would be I lose Meg and we all live happily ever after. She seemed surprised that I would even consider that. So I explained "purging" and how it's pretty common among crossdressers. Except this would be more than just a purge. And there's a problem: I certainly wouldn't be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was wrong. In fact, there's an incredibly slim possibility that I would be the first t-girl who said "I can live without her" and was right.
The therapist had an excellent idea: we (the wife and I) should sit down together and decide what we both want and how to get there.
Except I need to find myself first, I think.
Yes, I definitely need to do that.
I think.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Therapy the Fourteenth
The couples therapy was difficult. There's a scene in High Anxiety (if you haven't seen it, see it!) where someone is being kept in the violent ward of a psychiatric hospital, not because he's sick but because the criminal owners want to drain his bank account. In this scene Harvey Korman (the evil psychiatrist) is with Mel Brooks (the new head, here to clean it up) as he interviews the patient. The patient seems sane and normal to Mel, but every time he'd have his back turned Harvey did something to make the patient seem crazy.
I'm starting to feel that way in couples. We sit down as a family and things seem OK, even pleasant. Then it's just the two of us, or the two of us and the therapist, and everything's not OK.
It's difficult, because I want to maintain contact but she makes it very hard. As I mentioned yesterday, We spent some "us" time together after therapy, but I made sure that it was on a non-relationship level. We have always at least spoken on the phone every day, and we agreed to continue to do that, but as a "catch up" and "this is interesting" kind of level. I will delve into what's going on inside my mind only when it's positive.
I still expect positive. My individual therapy is today. After that, I will visit with my son while my wife is working and I will vanish before she comes home.
I'm starting to feel that way in couples. We sit down as a family and things seem OK, even pleasant. Then it's just the two of us, or the two of us and the therapist, and everything's not OK.
It's difficult, because I want to maintain contact but she makes it very hard. As I mentioned yesterday, We spent some "us" time together after therapy, but I made sure that it was on a non-relationship level. We have always at least spoken on the phone every day, and we agreed to continue to do that, but as a "catch up" and "this is interesting" kind of level. I will delve into what's going on inside my mind only when it's positive.
I still expect positive. My individual therapy is today. After that, I will visit with my son while my wife is working and I will vanish before she comes home.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Settling In
I was hoping I'd start today's post with stories of how Meg is enjoying her freedom, experimenting with looks, trying on outfits, maybe making an important "girl" discovery or two.
Instead, here it is day two of about forty-two and, other than my nightgown and underdressing, I haven't done any Meg at all.
Sunday night, I did sleep through the night ~ something I haven't done in quite a long while.
Monday morning, I considered trying on a couple of tops, but I really need the proper foundation for that and I did want to get to work. It took me some time to figure out where things are in the kitchen. That, hopefully, will improve. If not, sticky notes on cabinets and drawers will help.
Monday evening, I spent back at home. My wife is working and I needed to pick up my son, make us dinner, and spend a little time together before heading back to my overnight gig. The good part: I got to bring a couple of more boxes. The bad part: I didn't do any of the ambitious things I have on my schedule. Including Meg time. Including reflect time. The best part: my son and I played some chess and went for a walk. The deer are out.
It seems this is a friendly sort of neighborhood, with a neighbor randomly ringing the doorbell Sunday evening and at least one neighbor having the garage combination. That means people can randomly enter the house.
If they do, and poke around, I Am Out. And by "out" I don't mean out of the house. I mean out of the closet. Meg is everywhere.
I decided in advance I didn't want to have to lock Meg away all the time and I don't plan to do that here. Instead, I decided to not worry about it. If it happens, it happens. Care/don't care.
On the other hand, I will not force the issue: if I'm relaxing in a top and skirt I will NOT be answering the door! Unless I peek out and see two young well-dressed men. "Hi! And what does your religion forbid?"
Instead, here it is day two of about forty-two and, other than my nightgown and underdressing, I haven't done any Meg at all.
Sunday night, I did sleep through the night ~ something I haven't done in quite a long while.
Monday morning, I considered trying on a couple of tops, but I really need the proper foundation for that and I did want to get to work. It took me some time to figure out where things are in the kitchen. That, hopefully, will improve. If not, sticky notes on cabinets and drawers will help.
Monday evening, I spent back at home. My wife is working and I needed to pick up my son, make us dinner, and spend a little time together before heading back to my overnight gig. The good part: I got to bring a couple of more boxes. The bad part: I didn't do any of the ambitious things I have on my schedule. Including Meg time. Including reflect time. The best part: my son and I played some chess and went for a walk. The deer are out.
It seems this is a friendly sort of neighborhood, with a neighbor randomly ringing the doorbell Sunday evening and at least one neighbor having the garage combination. That means people can randomly enter the house.
If they do, and poke around, I Am Out. And by "out" I don't mean out of the house. I mean out of the closet. Meg is everywhere.
I decided in advance I didn't want to have to lock Meg away all the time and I don't plan to do that here. Instead, I decided to not worry about it. If it happens, it happens. Care/don't care.
On the other hand, I will not force the issue: if I'm relaxing in a top and skirt I will NOT be answering the door! Unless I peek out and see two young well-dressed men. "Hi! And what does your religion forbid?"
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Not Quite 27 Dresses ~ 22 Packages
As I mentioned I unpacked 22 boxes and bags. Yes, that seems like a lot for six weeks, but I expect to bring even more.
Here's a partial list of what came with me on Sunday:
Bags:
* nighties
* bras
* videotapes. I have a lot and I'd like to see what I want to transfer to a more durable medium or buy anew.
* camisoles, socks, panties
* dresses (2 bags, 14 total)
* epilator and razors
* hose
* socks
* makeup (huge bag)
* tops (all items from freecycle or swaps)
* boy clothes. Four pairs of slacks, five shirts. I do plan to bring more.
Boxes:
* boobs
* wigs
* "drag bag" (2 boxes)
* assorted panties, jewelry, purses, etc
* shoes
* stuff to read/do
And my computer and other items that go with it.
I had labelled boxes before I went. I put a code on each and carried a sheet with what's inside. I realised I had a lot of stuff so I peeked inside box B2 and saw skirts. I thought it was my box of skirts and I decided I could get that in a few days. Then, after I arrived, I looked at my sheet. B2 has skirts, some jewelry and all of my bathroom stuff. Ah well. I have learned that I'm very good at keeping organised, not so good at reviewing what I've done. In some ways I expect it. In fact, I except to do a lot of stream-of-consciousness writing while I'm here. I do not expect to ever read any of it.
So, you may be wondering why I brought so much Meg stuff. I expect to come home with a lot less. I want to try on outerwear and shoes and bring home what fits/is appropriate/I think I'll wear out of the house and swap the rest. I plan to have two bags for underwear and socks: to launder, to toss.
It's a tall order, and it's far from my primary mission. Wish me luck.
Here's a partial list of what came with me on Sunday:
Bags:
* nighties
* bras
* videotapes. I have a lot and I'd like to see what I want to transfer to a more durable medium or buy anew.
* camisoles, socks, panties
* dresses (2 bags, 14 total)
* epilator and razors
* hose
* socks
* makeup (huge bag)
* tops (all items from freecycle or swaps)
* boy clothes. Four pairs of slacks, five shirts. I do plan to bring more.
Boxes:
* boobs
* wigs
* "drag bag" (2 boxes)
* assorted panties, jewelry, purses, etc
* shoes
* stuff to read/do
And my computer and other items that go with it.
I had labelled boxes before I went. I put a code on each and carried a sheet with what's inside. I realised I had a lot of stuff so I peeked inside box B2 and saw skirts. I thought it was my box of skirts and I decided I could get that in a few days. Then, after I arrived, I looked at my sheet. B2 has skirts, some jewelry and all of my bathroom stuff. Ah well. I have learned that I'm very good at keeping organised, not so good at reviewing what I've done. In some ways I expect it. In fact, I except to do a lot of stream-of-consciousness writing while I'm here. I do not expect to ever read any of it.
So, you may be wondering why I brought so much Meg stuff. I expect to come home with a lot less. I want to try on outerwear and shoes and bring home what fits/is appropriate/I think I'll wear out of the house and swap the rest. I plan to have two bags for underwear and socks: to launder, to toss.
It's a tall order, and it's far from my primary mission. Wish me luck.
Monday, June 25, 2012
I Think This Is The Right Thing
After a false start Saturday (the owner's daughter decided to stay overnight), I left for my manager's (J) house Sunday around 4. This worked out well, since my son was in from New York and I got to spend a little extra time with him.
It is now Sunday evening around 9pm and I am still in my civvies. I had twenty-two boxes and bags in my car, and I forgot one important box anyway.
My goal for the rest of the evening is to hope the house cools off (it was 80 when I came in, and the thermostat was set to 79) before bedtime. Shower, unpack, do a little "me" exploring ~ that's why I'm here, after all ~ and bed.
I trust Thalia, my muse. As I've said before, I believe she watches over me. I also have no idea why. Maybe I'm still going to do something great. Maybe I had a really bad life last time and she's making up by letting me see my kids grow up and outdo their dad.
Thalia teases. For instance, there is a long light leading into my neighborhood, from the highway. I miss it by a couple of seconds every time. It can't be timing ~ it has to be her. Now that I go a different way, to a different office, there's another key light that I miss by a second or two every time. Now that I'm going to work from a different direction we'll see what she has planned for me.
But I believe she looks out for me and keeps me from serious harm. This is in addition to her normal writing duties. An example: I rear-ended a car in my old Corolla a few years ago. The car in front pulled out and the car that was now in front of me was at a dead stop. I could not pull on to the shoulder nor the adjacent lane. I tried the brakes three times before I hit the car in front. Not hard, but you know how cars crumble when the front hits something. Mine was a mess. Her tailpipe was dislodged; I grabbed a USB cable and re-connected it for her. It turns out, when a mechanic replaced the brakes he didn't set them properly and they were an accident waiting to happen. Until it did. I might've been at an intersection where an 18 wheeler ran a light and my brakes failed. Or worse: I awarded the car to my son when he started driving. He might have been driving with failed brakes. Either of these events could have caused me incredible pain. So Thalia gave me a minor accident before something awful happened.
I do believe this.
This weekend, Thalia ensured the house was covered so I could spend time with my son. She made my drive to my housesitting gig flawless ~ including a turn I hate because no-one seems to know what to do there. On the way, I picked up brand new garters and four pairs of stockings as well as several scarves (all hail freecycle). I got groceries after I settled in here. I accidentally parked right by the elevator to the supermarket. One of Thalia's tricks is to ensure something critical happens to whatever line I get on. I found a short self-service line and breezed through. I needed a coaxial cable to hook up some equipment here. I looked in various places without luck. As I walked past the laundry room some sort of equipment came on. I walked in to see what it was and in front of me was a box of cables... including a coaxial cable. I shredded a fingernail and meant to get a clipper at the supermarket. I had forgotten my box with toothbrush and clipper and tweezers and so on. I remembered everything but the clippers. I picked a room to make my own and it has an adjacent bath. I looked in the cabinet: empty, except for a clipper and tweezers.
And finally, I mentioned that I hadn't changed. Just as I sat down here, the doorbell rang. I answer it. It was a neighbor. And I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
I think Thalia is telling me I'm doing the right thing.
Funny thing about signs... you never really know what they mean, do you?
It is now Sunday evening around 9pm and I am still in my civvies. I had twenty-two boxes and bags in my car, and I forgot one important box anyway.
My goal for the rest of the evening is to hope the house cools off (it was 80 when I came in, and the thermostat was set to 79) before bedtime. Shower, unpack, do a little "me" exploring ~ that's why I'm here, after all ~ and bed.
I trust Thalia, my muse. As I've said before, I believe she watches over me. I also have no idea why. Maybe I'm still going to do something great. Maybe I had a really bad life last time and she's making up by letting me see my kids grow up and outdo their dad.
Thalia teases. For instance, there is a long light leading into my neighborhood, from the highway. I miss it by a couple of seconds every time. It can't be timing ~ it has to be her. Now that I go a different way, to a different office, there's another key light that I miss by a second or two every time. Now that I'm going to work from a different direction we'll see what she has planned for me.
But I believe she looks out for me and keeps me from serious harm. This is in addition to her normal writing duties. An example: I rear-ended a car in my old Corolla a few years ago. The car in front pulled out and the car that was now in front of me was at a dead stop. I could not pull on to the shoulder nor the adjacent lane. I tried the brakes three times before I hit the car in front. Not hard, but you know how cars crumble when the front hits something. Mine was a mess. Her tailpipe was dislodged; I grabbed a USB cable and re-connected it for her. It turns out, when a mechanic replaced the brakes he didn't set them properly and they were an accident waiting to happen. Until it did. I might've been at an intersection where an 18 wheeler ran a light and my brakes failed. Or worse: I awarded the car to my son when he started driving. He might have been driving with failed brakes. Either of these events could have caused me incredible pain. So Thalia gave me a minor accident before something awful happened.
I do believe this.
This weekend, Thalia ensured the house was covered so I could spend time with my son. She made my drive to my housesitting gig flawless ~ including a turn I hate because no-one seems to know what to do there. On the way, I picked up brand new garters and four pairs of stockings as well as several scarves (all hail freecycle). I got groceries after I settled in here. I accidentally parked right by the elevator to the supermarket. One of Thalia's tricks is to ensure something critical happens to whatever line I get on. I found a short self-service line and breezed through. I needed a coaxial cable to hook up some equipment here. I looked in various places without luck. As I walked past the laundry room some sort of equipment came on. I walked in to see what it was and in front of me was a box of cables... including a coaxial cable. I shredded a fingernail and meant to get a clipper at the supermarket. I had forgotten my box with toothbrush and clipper and tweezers and so on. I remembered everything but the clippers. I picked a room to make my own and it has an adjacent bath. I looked in the cabinet: empty, except for a clipper and tweezers.
And finally, I mentioned that I hadn't changed. Just as I sat down here, the doorbell rang. I answer it. It was a neighbor. And I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
I think Thalia is telling me I'm doing the right thing.
Funny thing about signs... you never really know what they mean, do you?
Sunday, June 24, 2012
If We Can't Laugh At Ourselves....
Well, this made me laugh. But if I replied that way to that question, I might not be here now. :)
I posted some Arlo and Janis last February. It's a great strip, one of the best IMO.
I posted some Arlo and Janis last February. It's a great strip, one of the best IMO.
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