Miss High Heels at the Mardi Gras

Lee Brewster if you don't recognize her. When I think of the unliberated experiences in the tranny journey, the long road. Imagine all the years, with absolute secrecy, purloining Mom's panties, and finally finding panties or a dirty old frock in the ultimate thrift store, the trash! It is a lonely life when you are sneaking back under cover of darkness to retrieve a treasure seen earlier, a pair of discarded panties. and then .. well into adulthood, well into your 20's, after just a couple of seven and seven's at the port authority bowling alley. (I wonder if those lanes still exist) to walk over to 10 th avenue, up a few stairs.. nervous enough to tremble, and to enter.. Paradise! Lee's queendom, Lee's Mardi Gras.. I still remember the first time. greeted by the kindly proprietor an older kindly fellow, somewhat effeminate, who must have seen a thousand like me. and coming over as i could barely look at the treasures. coming over and talking with me about waist cinchers! The first moments in my life talking to another human being about my secret desires, and he fitted me for one that day, and i bought ..that's right bought! my first pair of purchsed panties, and didn't my first bra, my first shoes, and my first wig follow soon enough. Thank you Lee Brewster! for getting me started.. a little tardy but making up for it with enthusiasm.

Lee Brewster is dead now, and has been for almost a decade. His "transvestite boutique" full of drag, and wicked stories was one of my favorite places to visit. I never evolved enough to go there enfemme while he lived, and now the store doesn't exist, and perhaps doesn't need to exist the way it once did. It once was a wonderland..dare i say a fairyland! I bought Miss High Heels and other classic works in sleazy bookstores a few blocks away, and they told me that my shameful fantasies were not singular. But Lee's showed me the joy behind it. I still have a few pieces from Lee's, but that old Lady Marlene waist cincher... well it did its magic.. and then burst asunder some time later. Lee was always an optimist.

The Hanged Man

Doomed. It is not an idea we embrace too much, but if you saw the Bills / Patriots game, and you have been a Buffalo Bills fan far too long to shrug it off, then you know what I mean.
Doomed When it is fate and it is fucked.
But it isn't justice because you don't have any particular idea that hubris was at work. It might be karma of course, but since it is collective, and the collective karma is visited upon a group of individuals who just got there, then justice is a stretch.
Doomed, and the Bills most certainly are, then so it is, but the Bills are nothing but a collection of innocents who receive their beating, and then move on.
Doomed And isn't all human effort essentially the same.
Doomed The wall against which the head is beaten, the savage god, who declares that as it has always been, the strong and the ruthless will thrive.

If this keeps up, I am going to give up these boyish tendencies for good.

Passing

The picture. Well that pretty girl is not me honey. That is what you get when you type in crossdressed with sunglasses into Google Images. And what I like about that girl and admire greatly is that She is passing honey, and I salute her. I sort of completed the set this weekend. Two years ago deeply closeted, I went out yesterday to a fair with a couple of gg's and a boy and a couple of girlz like myself, and I was crossdressed with sunglasses, and every once in a while, I was passing. With people so very tolerant today, how do I know?

This is what happened. I was at the ticket booth, with my money and giving it to the older lady, ( no not older than me! older than you!) She was counting out my change when I told the person next to me I would see them inside. I was looking right at her, when she showed the greatest surprise and burst into the most genuine laughter. I couldn't help but laugh myself, as she said.. enjoy the show.. still chuckling. Got to work on that voice of mine.

It did get me all thinking about the road travelled, the road still to travel, thirsty boots and all.

Travelling yesterday with my small group, all with their very interesting stories. army vets, and dominatrices, and shy boys with secret lives. I thought of the hidden stories of the uncelebrated, misunderstood. I was planning to start with mine, in the next entry. I wanted to periodically add the stories of others. Those who choose to remain anonymous, but who would like their story told. I would like those who are well along in their story.. The over 40 set, and who are in one way or another, from the transgender world, and who can relate to me the facts of their life in brief. I would only have one limitation. If you send the facts to my gmail account, I will ghost write that story as a blog entry. If it interests you, drop me a line. Otherwise, please anwer my poll questions. I would like to know who YOU are! You know who I am talking to.