I missed posting yesterday in the Cyrsti’s Condo blog because I was traveling north to my oldest grandson’s birthday party.
It usually is a positive experience as most all the parties are held at my daughter’s in laws in Dayton,Ohio. where I am fortunate to be accepted for who I have become.
I was lucky yesterday when my daughter texted me and reminded me of the address again where I was going. I for some reason had forgotten and thought the party was next weekend. I barely had enough time to get ready, stop for gas, pick up a card, go to the bank machine and withdraw a cash gift for my grandson.
The problem was, the place I was going was an hour away. Somehow I was able to do a fairly respectful job on makeup and hurriedly put together an outfit of leggings, sweater and boots.
One of these days I am trying to remind myself to thank the whole family for accepting me. They seem to take it for granted but it means so much to me.
As I go back through the ideas I have compiled for another book, I find myself living too far in the past.
My noggin tends to remember the good times and forget the bad ones. For instance, there was the rime I went to an urban downtown festival in Dayton, Ohio. I searched and found a post about it years ago here in the Cyrsti’s Condo blog. It has always been interesting to me how in depth I went into what I wore. I mentioned the silky tank top I tried along with my favorite pair of distressed jeans. I even wrote about showing off “the girls” which back in those days were silicone breast forms. Not that there is anything wrong with that!
What I didn’t get into was how lonely I felt. Even though I made sure I went out to my favorite venues afterwards, I remember the distinct feeling of being envious concerning all the couples I saw. During this time period I was still a year or so away from finding others I could socialize with. The lesson I learned was to keep trying and try to stay public hoping someone would find me…as they eventually did.
It was tough to keep looking forward and not back at my numerous failures. Especially the guys I met on line who “couldn’t wait” to meet me. Then stood me up.
Ironically, I learned the looking forward lesson when I was in the Army. In the final weeks of basic training we were on a very long forced march in the winter hills of Ft. Knox, Kentucky. I remember distinctly having a brief moment of feeling sorry for myself as I looked up the rather intimidating hill we were on. It lasted until I happened to look back and see how far we had come. From that point forward in the life, I tried to remember that lesson.
I can’t tell you how many times I applied the lesson to my Mtf gender transition. Little did the Army know they were helping me learn a valuable transgender lesson. Never despair where you are. Just look at how far you have come!
After a brief break for Labor Day on Monday, life kicks back into high gear again.
Tonight is my vote (or the board’s vote) on my application to fill a vacated board post on the transgender – cross dresser support group I am part of. I am running against someone else, so there is no guarantee I will get it. I am experienced in sitting on volunteer boards for ten years or more during my life, so I am qualified. Basically, I am putting myself up for extra hassle because Liz wants me to do something to get out of the house more. So in reality (since I am retired) I do have have more time to give. The one thing which could go against me is a Facebook interaction I had Saturday night with another transgender woman about an ultra right wing bigoted cross dresser who had jumped into the conversation. It’s complicated enough for a whole post but making a long story short, I hurt a couple of cross dressers’ feelings during the interaction. One of which sits on the board.
One way or another it won’t be the end of the world.
Wednesday’s appointment is much more important. I am having my third (and hopefully final) heart exam. It’s an ultra sound on my heart. The first two tests went OK on my heart, so hopefully this one will too.
Thursday, I head back up to Dayton, Ohio for two more appointments. I have to have more blood taken for a hematology test and also see the doctor who prescribes all my Bi-Polar meds.
Friday, I finish the week with another trip to Dayton to see my therapist. At least this time, we will have plenty to talk about!
Oh, and I forgot, Friday night is another one of the cross dresser – transgender socials Liz and I go to.
Plus, the weekend brings an interesting regional college football game. The local Cincinnati Bearcat team is playing The Ohio State Buckeyes. It is a must watch game.
So far, I think that is it!
It’s bad enough when yet another mass shooting in El Paso, Texas rocks our country again. But, the second shooting in Dayton, Ohio hit really close to home.
The tragic shooting took place in a trendy restoration district in Dayton, full of bars and restaurants. I know it well. It was one of the first places I went to explore my transgender feminine world. I have many fond memories and can’t imagine why a shooter would chose it to forever mark it in this violent way.
I haven’t been there for a few years since I moved to Cincinnati, Ohio.
Cases such as yesterday have a tendency to bring fear to my heart when Liz and I are out and about. An example was yesterday when Liz and I finished our witches ball meeting. We were walking hand in hand to the car when I noticed a forty something couple glaring at us. Of course, the younger people had no reaction at all. I did wonder what problem they had with us. Was it because I was transgender or the fact we were holding hands. Guess, I will never know. Maybe they were just anti LGBTQ rednecks. After all, Resident Rump and his best closeted boy Pence were just in town.
Back to the point at hand. I am far from smart enough to suggest anything far reaching enough to stem this epidemic of gun violence in this country.
I do know though, something different needs to be done. Sending thoughts and prayers has just become too hollow.
Perhaps we should take a lesson or two from the fiftieth anniversary of Woodstock…try preaching Peace and Love to get guns out of the hands of those who shouldn’t have them to start with. And maybe start with getting Russian NRA blood money out of congress.
I know I am a dreamer but I shouldn’t be the only one.