I'm mostly venting this afternoon, while having some fun, so this post will be a more or less random collection of my thoughts and feelings. I am doing well, but I have too many things on my mind and too much to accomplish before the day ends. Just writing it out will help me de-stress.
Last week, I thought a coworker might be speaking about me in an inappropriate, "HR moment", fashion. I wasn't positive, though, so I waited to see how things settled out. Our resident 'straight old geezer' (his self-description, not mine), Jesus, offered his views on the situation. What happened was likely the result of cultural differences, gender stereotypes and, possibly, racial tensions. Jesus, whose advice I have come to trust, concluded that what went on likely had nothing to do with my being transsexual. I agreed.
[Aside: I do not view our resident scholar and friend, Jesus, as an 'old geezer' by any stretch of my imagination, although I have good reason to suspect he is indeed straight!
How he defines himself is, of course, entirely his privilege and right.]
Jesus asked "How much are you into 'gender stereotypes'??". As my new life continues to unfold, a process that at times seems entirely outside my control (like, I'm just along for the ride!), I find that in some ways I am very much into gender stereotypes. Particularly feminine stereotypes, as it happens. What he suggested is that I bake a batch of cookies to share with coworkers this week. This would help smooth the waters, presumably. I told him that, the day before, I had already announced I would bring in brownies tomorrow.
Ah, this feminine stereotype stuff is something I find myself falling into more naturally as time goes by. I am entirely comfortable with most parts of the stereotype. To clarify, however, I will not tolerate being called a bimbo, airhead or similar slurs. Nor do I wish to be thought helpless (unless that should work to my advantage!). I do not mind the occasional lecherous look.
The work week was winding down late Friday afternoon when I stopped to speak with one of the receptionists. We had a very nice chat. I'm not sure how it came up, but she mentioned something other coworkers have stated over the last nine months. I am always well-dressed and look attractive at work. I fear (not really), my desire to dress well is one aspect of my embrace of the feminine stereotype, or at least my interpretation of it.
The fact is, and this is not merely my own view, I am often one of the best dressed women at work. There are quite a few of us. I am starting to feel a little pressure to keep up my 'image' of being, if not a fashion trendsetter, at least a paragon of good taste.
To that end, this afternoon I went on the hunt for a nice (reasonably priced) pair of brown heels of at least 3 1/2" altitude.
I have two very nice pairs of black heels but I've been totally delinquent in acquiring brown shoes. I just had to end that today.
Besides, I don't have a single brown skirt!
I have several nice black ones.
So I drove all the way to the "Mall of Death", as the Mall of America is quaintly (if not affectionately) known to several out-of-staters, figuring that somewhere in those hundreds of stores I could find the shoes and skirts I wanted. Boy, I mean Girl, was I wrong! I spent four hours in twelve stores at the mall and didn't find what I 'needed'. I know exactly what styles I like and no one had those.
Then I left the mall and stopped at both Target and JCPenney, where my luck turned to the better, at least a bit. I found brown heels that nearly matched what I wanted. Close enough. Still didn't find any brown skirts, at least not any I would wear. I have no desire to be seen in a skirt that makes me look like I'm wearing an inverted, partially open tulip bud. Additional time spent at the two stores: 1 1/2 hours!
Under abnormal circumstances, like those times when I don't have much in the way of other things to accomplish, shopping is fun. No matter how busy I am, I can find up to two hours of shopping relaxing, even if I buy nothing. Five-and-a-half hours is too much of a good thing.
Then there was the very serious issue of what nail polish color(s) to purchase. Nearly as important is the brand, I prefer L'Oreal. Whether or not 'I'm worth it', of the brands I've tried L'Oreal wears the best with minimal chipping over one week's time.
I couldn't find the shades I wanted by L'Oreal. Those were available from Revlon, however. I will try one tonight, hoping that it wears well.
Last weekend, when I was visiting Erica Ann and Ellen, Erica Ann in her feminine wisdom pointed out that I needed a shorter, (much shorter), 'club length' skirt if I wanted to attract the attention of men. I agree with her and I looked for just such a skirt today but couldn't find one. :-\ I haven't given up, though.
To make the weekend more interesting, I found the I missed going to Hunters with Erica Ann. I missed having a friend to go out on the town with.
What did I do instead? I went to a Mardi Gras dinner, at the invitation of my sweet friend 'J'. This might sound like tremendous fun but it turned out to be no more than moderately amusing. It was a benefit dinner held at 'J's' Lutheran Church.
To be serious for a moment, the people at this church treated me very well and I doubt any picked up that I am trans. I had interesting conversations with a few of the women. There was a live Dixieland trio, a very talented group. I had a good time. One of the families sitting at our dinner table had an adopted son, from Romania, who is 13 years, 11 1/2 months old as he proudly asserts. Although I have no doubt he is not always as sweet and well-behaved as he was last night, I found myself wishing I had a child of my own - for
Danya (imported) wrote: Sun Sep 07, 2008 1:18 pm
the very first time in my life!
The church also has a large pipe organ. 'J' had no problem bragging about my playing. Late in the evening, I was offered the key to the church with the opportunity to practice whenever I want. This has some potential of leading to substitute work and possibly more.
'J' is an excellent sax player, although I once found her sax octet group's rendition of Bach's "Prelude and Fugue in G-minor" almost sacrilegious (totally kidding, nearly so anyway!). I prefer this piece played on the organ,as it was written. Her group did a very good job with it.
'J' and I also discussed doing some piano (me)/sax (her) duets. I would really enjoy this.
Anyway, while all of this church stuff was fine, it somehow didn't match what I had experienced last weekend with Erica Ann at Hunters.
I made some interesting observations on gender, specifically my own feminine one, this week. And I discussed these with my gender therapist Thursday. I don't want to shock any of you, but sometimes I am naked and even look at myself in the mirror sans clothing.
This is most likely to happen right after I get out of the shower.
The problem with this is, my developing breasts (boobs, if you prefer - I don't think they're quite at 'knocker' stage) increase my discomfort with the male appendages that hang you know where. I'm not at all happy about this situation; 'they' just don't belong on me. My therapist's comment that my feeling was quite typical was not much comfort. I will absolutely acquire the money, somehow, to get GRS.
Perhaps my top achievement this weekend was doing no more than 90 minutes of office work from home. Considering the way most of my weekends and evenings have been, this was a big deal. It made me very happy.
How he defines himself is, of course, entirely his privilege and right.]
I have several nice black ones.
Ok, even I don't understand what I just said. But I have to give you kudos for if the ladies at work are impressed? Heck you just have to be doing something right! ANd for what its worth I've always thought of you as female from the day I met you and I don't think you have a THING to worry about.