Moving Day

They knocked down a wall and are expanding my department at work. The dust is not helping those of us who are getting over being sick which is probably around 75% of us. Everyone is crabby and cranky and I just want to tell them all to pull up their big girl panties and deal with it! I'm snotty and coughy too but I refuse to complain because complaining about anything rarely does any good.

Yesterday I received an email from T my gorgeous brown boss who looks like a Duke basketball player from the 80's updating the management team and I about the construction behind the big plastic veil.

What I had not been aware of was that behind that veil is my new office! For the last two years I've sat in a cove of sorts and soon I will have my own office away from the sales agents. I'm so excited to have my own space. It only took a little over 3 years to get it!

The Scene Girl tried really hard to get out of school today. We were so sick last week-she missed three days and I just don't feel she can afford to miss another so she can "pack". I tell her I don't want to go to work either but I am and I need to pack too.

"But you have someone to pack for you!"

She's right. I haven't packed a thing this week. Jeanie is doing it all. I've just been in charge of getting everything turned on at the new place.

I love my Jeanie! I think everyone should have one...or maybe two! He makes my life so simple and while the world complains, I am amused at my wonderful life with the gorgeous one!

This will probably be my last entry for awhile but I promise to return with new pics and videos of our moving weekend.

Twins

I am up at 5 and I try to be at work by 7:30. Sometimes it's more like 9 but you get the point. I'm up early. However, Jeanie's day starts much later and four nights a week he's not home until after 9 pm. It messes with us a bit. I try to stay up as late as possible but even my as possible is too early for Jeanie. He tucks me in and usually comes to be around 1 am. This morning I woke up before the alarm and Jeanie wasn't there. I expected to find that he'd fallen asleep watching TV but he was wide awake at 4:45 am chatting away on Yahoo messenger. When I asked who he was chatting with he nearly came out of his chair when he said, "It's my twin!"



It's been awhile since he's spoken of his twin; a crossdresser from Wisconsin who is so similar to my Jeanie that even a stranger would find it strange. Not only do they look alike, they both have dominant girlfriends, share similar backgrounds and common interests. The twin has been MIA for awhile. They had spent the whole night catching up, comparing lifestyles and sharing themselves in general. I envy him for having a friend so much like himself.

The living room is full of boxes. Our bearded lady Sirena is scared of them and Jeanie couldn't understand why. I had to explain that before finding us, she was kept in a crate for most of her 3 years and she's probably scared we're going to box her up again. He spent half an hour telling her that would never happen. She's still not digging on the boxes.

There's so much to do.

Whether I work 2 hours or 12, I always leave the office exhausted.

I have to keep a lot of things spinning while constantly being by coworkers who want this or want that be to be sure they want something. I am grateful to have a good job during such difficult economical times and years of this type of work have made me a strong political animal. I can deal with most people with a lot of flare and ease but so many? It makes me tired and I feel so heavy when I come home. I can hardly wait to take off the heels and the panty hose and sprint around the house half dressed: except for the bra.

I can go without panties but I cannot go without a bra. This goes back to Nanna Jones to whom I owe all my propers and phobias to who insisted that if I didn't sleep with a bra on that I would be a droopy mess by age 25. I'm now 36 and I don't droop but I sometimes wonder if the confinement hindered my growth. I come from large breasted women-beautiful, low-to-the ground, sweet opened faced and hearted, healthy gals with loads of breasts and lilty laughter but I didn't get the breasts. My sister who shares my need for bras to bed also has small breasts. On her last trip to the states, we discussed our shrinking cup sizes and how we're managing to keep up appearances.

Jeanie wears a bra almost as much as I do or maybe we're even. He even wears them to work while always making sure to wear a t-shirt under his butchy work office clothes. Moving south has certainly been a transition for him though he doesn't show it. He says he's constantly happy; that he wished he had left New York years ago. I ask him if he's homesick and he says, "I am home."

Speaking of home, we are moving this weekend. I am excited but with slight anxiety of the thought of moving all our stuff even if it's just a few blocks away. The trunk of my car is full of boxes I got from work and I'm hoping Jeanie will be a good girl and pack during the day before he goes to work. But oh dread! I will have to tell him exactly what to do. Why is this so? Why does he have to ask a million questions just to do a simple task? Try as I might, I cannot reverse this awful trait in him. I wish I could but then other wonderful traits might leave him and I really wouldn't want that. He'll do it...just with a lot of direction. I'm hoping everything will be packed up before the boys show up on Saturday. Moving is a tight sweet event in my group. We always show up and show out and catch a buzz afterwards.

Cousin David and Mark will be moving soon too but not just down the street. Mark has taken a job a state away. I'm not sure how that will change us socially. I've hoped that we would make transgender friends but our circle still consists primarily of gay males I could just squeeze and love forever and ever. A few CDs have approached us both together and separately but most are so secret squirrel. None of them live as openly with the female factor as we do. They don't dress everyday. Some are gay but more are straight and even married but they are either tightly bound in the closet or their wife merely puts up. How can I be so different in this aspect? Surely I'm not the only woman who enjoys the duality. I crave to meet just one like me. So far zero.

There was Kendra. Oh, she's still about. Currently in DC but texting me away but I'm not so sure about her. It's flattering that she would watch us from afar and never get up the nerve to approach us. It's also flattering that she and I would make an instant connection but not so much with Jeanie and it seems that to really be friends, it should be with us both. Instead I get all the calls and texts and emails and I've turned the light on 'cause no one's home but she knocks just the same. Jeanie says I sent her circuits into overload. She's never been with a girl as a girl and she see that as appealing and for some that's too much? I don't know.

Saturday Night Dress Up with Sick Girlfriend

I'm feeling much better today.

I wanted to go to Mardi Gras Night so much.

The boys are so much fun and I love dressing Jeanie up!

Instead we stayed in and played dress up just the same.

It was fun to just concentrate on Jeanie's look.

To be the artist not the art.

We took a long bath and I shaved Jeanie from head to toe.

Except the face.I have no experience in face shaving; I just mangle him.

Jeanie wanted me to paint on his Mardi Gras mask.

Even though we didn't go out, I did so.

This was my first attempt with white face.

It was fun to just see what I could create.

We took loads of pictures and shot a few videos.

I'll post the videos later but here are a few shots.

I thought he looked hot-somewhere between a French Mime and Rocky Horror.

Bob's Why

Why - poem by bob flanagan

Because it feels good;

because it gives me an erection;

because it makes me come;

because I'm sick;

because there was so much sickness;

because I say FUCK THE SICKNESS;

because I like the attention;

because I was alone a lot;

because I was different;

because kids beat me up on the way to school;

because I was humiliated by nuns;

because of Christ and the Crucifixion;

because of Porky Pig in bondage, force-fed by some sinister creep in a black cape;

because of stories of children hung by their wrists,

burned on the stove, scalded in tubs;

because of Mutiny on the Bounty;

because of cowboys and Indians;

because of Houdini;

because of my cousin Cliff;

because of the forts we built and the things we did inside them;

because of what's inside me;

because of my genes;

because of my parents;

because of doctors and nurses;

because they tied me to the crib so I wouldn't hurt myself;

because I had time to think;

because I had time to hold my penis;

because I had awful stomachaches and holding my penis made it feel better;

because I felt like I was going to die;

because it makes me feel invincible;

because it makes me feel triumphant;

because I'm a Catholic;

because I still love Lent, and I still love my penis, and in spite of it all I have no guilt;

because my parents said BE WHAT YOU WANT TO BE, and this is what I want to be;

because I'm nothing but a big baby and I want to stay that way, and I want a mommy forever, even a mean one, especially a mean one;

because of all the fairy tale witches, and the wicked stepmother, and the stepsisters, and how sexy Cinderella was, smudged with soot, doomed to a life of servitude;

because of Hansel, locked in the witch's cage until he was fat enough to eat;

because of "O" and how desperately I wanted to be her;

because of my dreams;

because of the games we played;

because I've got an active imagination;

because my mother bought me Tinker Toys;

because hardware stores give me hard-ons;

because of hammers, nails, clothespins, wood, padlocks, pullies, eyebolts, thumbtacks, staple-guns, sewing needles, wooden spoons, fishing tackle, chains, metal rulers, rubber tubing, spatulas, rope, twine, C-clamps, S-hooks, razor blades, scissors, tweezers, knives, pushpins, two-by-fours, Ping-Pong paddles, alligator clips, duct tape, broomsticks, barbecue skewers, bungie cords, sawhorses, soldering irons;

because of tool sheds;

because of garages;

because of basements;

because of dungeons;

because of The Pit and the Pendulum;

because of the Tower of London;

because of the Inquisition;

because of the rack;

because of the cross;

because of the Addams Family playroom;

because of Morticia Addams and her black dress with its octopus legs;

because of motherhood;

because of Amazons;

because of the Goddess;

because of the moon;

because it's in my nature;

because it's against nature;

because it's nasty;

because it's fun;

because it flies in the face of all that's normal (whatever that is); because I'm not normal;

because I used to think that I was part of some vast experiment and that there was this implant in my penis that made me do these things and that allowed THEM (whoever THEY were) to monitor my activities;

because I had to take my clothes off and lie inside this plastic bag so the doctors could collect my sweat;

because once upon a time I had such a high fever that my parents had to strip me naked and wrap me in wet sheets to stop the convulsions;

because my parents loved me even more when I was suffering;

because surrender is sweet;

because I was born into a world of suffering;

because I'm attracted to it;

because I'm addicted to it;

because endorphins in the brain are like a natural kind of heroin;

because I learned to take my medicine;

because I was a big boy for taking it;

because I can take it like a man;

because, as somebody once said, HE'S GOT MORE BALLS THAN I DO;

because it is an act of courage;

because it does take guts;

because I'm proud of it;

because I can't climb mountains;

because I'm terrible at sports;

because NO PAIN, NO GAIN;

because SPARE THE ROD AND SPOIL THE CHILD;

because YOU ALWAYS HURT THE ONE YOU LOVE.

Sick Girlfriend

It is sweatsuit city here, friends.
I am officially under the weather.
I am sub human-I've become a mouth breather.
Jeanie is a sweet nurse.
He doesn't seem to bothered on missing out on Mardi Gras.
I told him he should go but for once, my submissive put his foot down and said NO!

Today, a sweet young thing asked if I had been to the tanning salon.

"Oh no. I just used my boyfriend's foundation."

She giggled.

I think she thought I was kidding.

My LOVE YOU LONG TIME Girl

The Crossdresser will be home in half and hour. I prefer to come home to him instead of the other way around. I thought I would miss my alone time when he moved in but I just find myself watching the clock and missing him so much when he's at work. I can't wait until he gets home. I might even join the Bearded Ladies in the happy! happy! joy! joy! dance they put on by the door every night when he returns home. My dogs just adore Jeanie. They've deserted My Scene Girl and I wake up every morning to find them getting their cuddle on with him and plotting on how they can kick me out of bed altogether. I swear that I hear them giggle when I get up and leave them to move up to my pillow and lovingly watch him sleep and wait for his eyes to flutter open and start their day. Jeanie is loved.

Lately, maybe too much.

I am certain that he must be exhausted. For the last week, my libido has been racey even in my own frame of sexual measure. I am in a constant state of arousal. It just feels so good to be in or around or above or behind my gorgeous one. It's almost taken on a feeling of vampire love...almost as if I'm feeding on his bloody soul. Creepy. I'll stop.

Tonight I watched Changling and I can totally recommend it. It's coincidental as I have been reading alot of conspiracy theories on a little boy who disappeared in 1982. He became the poster boy for missing children and the first to be on milk cartons. I saw his face a lot as a kid. He was only 3 years older and it was around this time that adults began an open dialogue with their kids that must have went something along the lines of, "Santa Claus isn't real, we smoked pot in high school and oh, it's better that you stay inside and play Ms. Pacman because there are really scary people just waiting to throw you in the car and do awful things to you...." Well, it was for me. A whole loss of innocence thing took place. Johnny was kidnapped and he was on the news every night while I ate dinner. The following year a classmate of mine was taken to the school auditorium and raped by a sex offender who had been out of prison for only 6 days. My mother showed back up after two years of no contact with my sister and I with a brand new husband who thought he'd try to make us his brides too. Another classmate got pregnant at 12 years old. I didn't know what to make of it all and still, the news asked "Where's Johnny Gosch?" Unlike a lot of missing children cases, there were leads, strange phone calls, packages on the poor mother's door steps and visits from other children who claimed they had been held captive in a powerful pedophile ring ran by members of high government, church, finance and celebrity status. These children said that Johnny Gosch had been held captive too.

The Internet is absolutely saturated with information about Johnny Gosch. There is so much information out there, it's hard to say what is fact and what is fabricated and I keep waiting. I want to believe he's out there and someday he'll get to tell his truth.

But for now...

Happy! Happy! Joy! Joy! Happy! Happy! Joy! Joy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My New Myspace Page

Hello Friends.
Some friends you are.
I haven't heard from any of you in ages.
You come and you go and never say hello.
At first, this seemed okay for me to do as well.
But when I do I feel like a Peeping Tom.
Don't really dig that at all.
I don't assume my stating this will change anything.
You'll still come and go.
Maybe that's just the norm in this forum.
I just created a new myspace page.
http://www.myspace.com/crossdressersgirlfriend
I wanted something a little more private and flirty.
One not plagued with coworkers and the dude that sells me vodka.
Maybe you'll stop to say hi there...

Weekends go by so quickly.
I want to crawl back into bed with Jeanie and swear off Monday all together but the show must go on. Jeanie has to go to work too. I think Jeanie is enjoying his change of occupation. He hasn't said so, but I think being an office girl suits him. My office has been so busy, but I'm enjoying all the growth and change. My boss allows me to be creative and I'm looking forward to tearing down the high school dance streamers and hearts and going with a new theme: March Madness.

Last night I colored my hair. By all rights, my hair has been dark as night for months but I finally went full fledged Bettie Paige black. Paired with my light eyes, the look is drastic and dreamy. I'm not sure why I spent so many years playing a blonde. I'm not a blonde in the least.

Over the weekend, Jeanie and I made a new friend. She approached Jeanie of course, as Jeanie is all over the place. At first she made small talk but soon she admitted that she had seen the two of us out. She's tall and gorgeous and very sweet. We took turns passing the phone back and forth and I'm looking forward to knowing her better.

Is it time for work already?

My Valentine's Day Video from Jeanie

But you feel so clean...

What do you buy a Cross Dresser for Valentine's Day?

I waited until the last minute to decide.

Thank you Femulate for the most perfect way to get up the nerve to say be my valentine! After I printed it on to almond bonded paper, I framed it and gave it to Jeanie as a Valentine's Day Card. It will forever be a reminder of our first Valentine's Day together.

I also gave him the most engaging passionate purple dress. It makes me happy just to see it hanging on the coat rack in the living room. I actually enjoy just gazing at it. I want to see Jeanie in it but he has stubble on his face and he refuses to waste the moment of trying it on by not being able to totally appreciate his reflection in the mirror the first time he puts it on.

I can't believe I found true love. It's still new and clean and wonderful. We are still learning to communicate and express ourselves. I thought after years alone I would miss my alone time but I don't. He gives me space when I need it and I enjoy knowing he's right there if I need or desire him. It's comfortable and easy. It's exciting and wet. It's squishy in my hand and I throw it like a rock.

I must confess that a few of my favorite bloggers frighten me. What if Jeanie decides he's become so much a woman that he craves a boyfriend not a girlfriend. Even in the light that tonight he asked how I felt about being engaged I am seeing a few of you in the painful realizations that you've outgrown your spouses and I don't know if I could bare Jeanie falling out of love with me. I want him as my companion forever even if the fairy godmother gave him breasts and a va jajae and he wanted to sing soprano at the local baptist church.

Despite my fear, I will never suppress Jeanie's need to grow, experiment, and evolve into whatever he wants to be. I love him too much to do that and this is why I don't understand and what I don't dig but my backyard is different than yours.

What I mean is that my story is different. I have always been attracted to pretty men. I have dated cross dressers. I saw Jeanie before I knew that Gene existed. He was too young (29 to my 35) and he was so far away. I even thought he had a girlfriend and I didn't approach him like "Oh yeah, I'm going to make you mine" I came to him in curiosity and interest. It just turned into so much more on its own like people tell you it will but you don't believe them because you're single and wish to the Baby Jesus that it wasn't so.

And maybe that's the difference. Your mates met you as males and didn't have a clue about your secret closet in the trunk of your car.

I don't know what I face. I don't know if I should continue to fear what some of you have written to me as being inevitable in private emails. It doesn't matter this moment. I am merely grateful and if he desires, I'll always be along for the ride.

Just when I was prepared to take a day off to seek out the perfect new home for my gang of girls, I lucked into a beautiful house two streets down in my neighborhood. I'm leaving the corner of New Jersey for the corner of Independence. I should be settled in by the third of March.
A month later, Jeanie and I will be heading to New York for his Baby Sister's wedding. I am a bit nervous. I have yet to meet his family. Historically, I do not get along well with mother types due to my inability to bond with the one I call Momma. She is by far the complicated relationship in my life and after years of pain and anguish I have all but given up on finding a way to give it a happily ever after.
A friend of mine who is a true Monk archetype, says I was born under the Sitting Buddha and that I must learn everything on my own and teach it to others. I believe this to be true. Despite being abandoned by my own mother at the tender of age of 7 and forgotten long before that, my daughter never fails to tell me that I'm the coolest Mom ever and more; more a best friend and the one she can truly depend upon. Sometimes in the absence of something, we learn its true definition.
The Scene Girl is such an angel; its not hard to want to protect and love and understand her beauty and joy and kindness. She's a good kid who makes good grades and is very self governing and independent. She's protective of the weak; understanding of everyone. She loves my Momma based on her own experience not mine and I respect her for that.
Jeanie started his new job yesterday. He came home all preppy and boy and excited like it was the first day of school. He wants to make pink cupcakes for Thursday's Valentines Day themed pot luck at work because "it might be the only time I can make something pink and it be acceptable." I think pink should always be acceptable.
I scolded him for the condition I found the house in and that was all that was required. He quickly sat down and made a list of to do's before preparing the coffee maker for this morning so all I had to do was press a button.
I'm a lucky motherless child. Loved orphan. Misfit mom. Crossdresser's Girlfriend

Bad Girl? Bad Boy?

Deep down, I think Matt is fascinated by my alternative lifestyle.
A submissive himself, I taunt him with sweet sordid details.
Today we had lunch together in the break room.
He complained that I don't eat my sushi correctly. I tell him soy is too salty; it's yummy and spicy and that's what matters.
I told him about how we lost Jeanie's breasts to my 13 year old who hasn't grown her own yet.
"Does Jeanie wear women's underwear all the time?"
"Unless he's being punished."
He laughed. It's true though. He enjoys all things feminine. I haven't found the one revolving fascination like most CDs have. For some it seems to be panty hose, others shoes, but for him it's everything though he has a thing for corsets maybe a little more than most.
To take any quality of femininity away from him is punishment and this plays with me. I hate to deny him anything but I don't think I've been strict enough lately. He's leaving me little hints that he's longing for me to put my high heeled foot smack down on the middle of his back and take a stroll.
Hints like not keeping the house as tidy as I like. The laundry is behind and my my clothes are clumsily out of order (color coded by garment type-tank tops to full length dresses and coats). I was late to work on Friday because my favorite pair of jeans were mingled in a stack of his jeans. Lazy has replaced his obedience. He's whining at simple requests....like a brat...like a boy and I'm at the end with all this bad behavior.
I am not sure as to what is required. Take away his panty and bra privileges? Spank his bottom a pretty pink?

Today, Cousin David called me to say that he saw Shawn on Saturday. Shawn is the most gorgeous gay man I've ever had the pleasure of sharing the same air with and I adored him almost immediately. I don't know if I should say he's gay. I don't think he's all the way gay. When gay men kiss you, there's no taste just like kissing little boys when I was little. When I've kissed Shawn there was definitely a taste. He certainly likes other men and he's very active in the gay community in issues that others don't begin to bring up. I admire him in many ways but I adore him for the way his body always goes limp when he sees me as if I'm just too much and he says, "Oh My God there She is..."
So David says he's well and he asked about me. He said, "David, I have to see Joni. I want a baby. I'm ready for a baby and I've decided she's the perfect one to give me one. I want her to be the mother of my baby."
This thrilled me and I think I twirled it around on my finger all morning and even caught myself smiling and giving out kindness from the fact that Shawn would actually want me to mother his child. That's so beautiful. How could there be any greater compliment? There isn't one. I wonder how Jeanie would feel about me giving a baby to Shawn. He never puts rules on me and while I am most pleased to have one beautiful daughter and no more, I believe that someone as wonderful as Shawn deserves a child to love as I have loved The Scene Girl.
It was a good day.
Jeanie starts work tomorrow.
I picked him up B12 on the way home. We need nail polish remover but I did remember dog food and I'm trying to talk him into giving the bearded ladies baths and a good grooming tonight. It's so warm and beautiful out.

Saturday night, Jeanie and I watched the first episode of RuPaul's Drag Race. Coincidentally, we had been at Legends the night before and caught the amateur drag show hosted by none other than Victoria "Porkchop" Parker; the first contestant voted off. Tonight, I made a dish for dinner in her honor. I was sad to see Ms. Parker voted off so early on. She's a whole lotta woman and I bet you dimes to doughnuts that none of the costumes brought in for that challenge were going to fit a 300 pound drag queen. The sleeker drag queens had an advantage. I watched her perform on Friday night and she was stunning. She really is the Paula Deen of Drag; funny and charming and has amazing talent. She finished the show with Jennifer Hudson's "Spotlight" and walked away with more cash than she alone could carry. The episode put her in a dim light but I assure you that she was better than the show portrayed. In her honor, I made pork chops for dinner tonight.

For those of you who watched my video of Friday night, you may think that Jeanie was so drunk that he couldn't walk but it wasn't so much the booze. He was buzzed but that wasn't really it. For the last week or so, he's had tingling and numbness in his left foot. At times, he can't feel it at all which combined with the drinks, made walking to the car very difficult. It's really freaking us out. An acquaintance of mine was recently diagnosed with MS following similar symptoms. It began after a night in cheap heels and I want to think that he pulled a muscle or something. He says he's in no pain but if the numbness persists, we'll have to visit the doctor.

We are amazingly happy and I think it's our cynical nature to expect a shoe to drop. He keeps talking about it and I tell him not to feed into it and yet, I find it in my mind as well. I'm actually blogging about it.

I finally broke a 1,000 views and have accumulated a few followers. I don't think I'm any closer to finding other females like myself. I've come to the conclusion that other females like myself don't really enjoy the company of other females just as I don't.

Going to Legends on Friday, I was floored at how many gay men made it a point to approach and openly embrace me. Jeanie says this happens everywhere we go but I think it definitely happens in the gay community much more frequently. Perfect gay strangers would flirt and swirl me around like a doll. For a long time I was single. I tried to date but never got beyond the third with any one. I might have been lonely had it not been for so many gorgeous gay men who kept me company until I found Jeanie. There was affection but it was never sexual though sometimes I found myself crushing on a few of them.

I spotted a cross dresser almost immediately after entering Legends. I couldn't get much out of her, but once she met Jeanie she was a real chatter box. They made fast friends once I pressed Jeanie to ask her to dance. Sharon is married. I asked her if her wife knew. She said yes, but that she didn't like it all. "She's attracted to my male side; not the me that wears dresses and lipstick."

There was no question that Sharon was a male. I have a quick eye for these things so I was absolutely shocked when this beautiful blond creature kissed me and I felt stubble. I truly believed my friend Adam and I had been dancing with a lesbian all night. When I realized she was a male to female, I was so rude! I actually grabbed her breasts and asked what she had in there. She said, "You know what's in there" and kissed me again. While I was quick to find a cross dresser, Blondie was quick to see that I was someone who could openly accept her.

Life is a beautiful adventure where very few things are as they appear to be.

An UNO Night

Taking Out My Crossdresser

This is not Jeanie.

This is Monica.

She was sitting in a corner all alone and I absolutely could not resist her. It was her first time out in a short mini skirt and heels and I absolutely could not resist her. I told Jeanie I had to kiss her. Jeanie stood close and watched. Afterwards, Jeanie touched my arm and said, "Kiss her again. I'll take your picture." Later he admitted to feeling jealous and aroused all at once but not in balanced proportions. For me, the moment was exhilarating. I had found a lover who didn't desire to chain my passionate impulses or whose love couldn't be threatened by seeing me display affection to another. Love came with a lot of freedom for me and I wish it for everyone. It makes me sad to think of the Monicas out there who feel they cannot be everything that they are in broad daylight. I can't get my mind around the secrecy of the transgender world. I sometimes wonder if the secrecy is part of the appeal which is even harder for me to understand because living out loud is just.so.much.fun.