life history (02) young love, old soul

Freshman year was as bad as any freshman year, smaller fish in a bigger pond. Family fought constantly, I was grounded due to grades most of the time, started getting big into clubs, and by sophomore year ran most of the nerdier clubs like Drama, Speech and Debate, and Computer club, and created a few of my own, like Anime club and Film club, and eventually a school Jedi Counsel. I liked the clubs because I was less likely to get something thrown at me in a class room, and I was very popular amongst the unpopular. I worked at Taco Bell until I eventually got a job in the city working at an Independent Theatre/Concert Venue, where I stayed for close to 6 years, taking other jobs, but always picking up shifts at the theatre. It’s more of a home than anywhere in this world to me, the employees like family.

At the time started dating a handsome college professor with a striking British accent, from here on referred to as “The Dr”, a nickname I somewhat sarcastically gave him due to his doctorate in Leisure Studies. I was 14, he was a mentor in the eyes of my parents, but the difference was semantics. At 39, he would have made love to me the moment we met if I didn’t come with a prison sentence attached, and I might have happily accepted. He was the first person that really saw me as I wanted to be seen, and he was the only one I could tell about my feminine desires. When I was 16, we would occasionally travel to LA or San Francisco and I would dress as his daughter, it was a freedom that I treasured and still look back to as my “girlhood”, he took me to shows and film premieres, he exposed me to lots of new things, including Rilo Kiley. We were in love.

And then it got bad. My parental units made a complete 180 and basically banned me from him. He started getting more and more physical with me, and my near-failing grades became more and more worrisome. My mom and stepdad got divorced but still lived together and my brother moved on to college. The family became even more volatile, and I moved in with the Dr. before I finished high-school, and our relationship started to get rocky, we were both immature and wouldn’t admit it, and he wanted to be a part of everything I did, I had very little privacy and the expectations of a physical relationship became stronger on his end. I was more depressed than I had ever been, cut myself more than I ever did living with my family and felt really alone, exploited, suicidal and wrong in my body. This is when I really started thinking about transitioning, I felt ugly and awkward, one day I’d think I’d be a girl for the rest of my life, and the next I’d feel like a horrible pervert.

I became very good at showing faux happiness school, my Senior year I was a social butterfly. I had a cool downtown job, everyone knew me from the Jedi Battles I arranged at lunch and my various other antics, coming to school dressed as a catholic priest , spider-man with silly string shooters and even once a school cheerleader, which I got my ass-kicked for but was totally worth it. I hadn’t come out to anyone yet, and how much I really liked “dressing up” was a secret known only to me, the Dr. and one very close friend. I was Homecoming King and the only student graduation speaker my senior year, the PC consultation business I started in 2002 was doing well and my life was heading in the right direction. The Dr. and I broke up, it was ugly, hurtful and my heart was broken, but I look back and and I’m glad that I’m not with him, forever is a word that only young lovers use.

I moved into a punk rock house in the heart of downtown with some friends from work, life was a constant influx of bands from around the world, crazy house parties and shows, plus my first introduction to drugs and alcohol. I was completely sober through High-School other than the occasional sneak from my stepdads boxwine, all I had understood about them was from Half-Baked or Requiem for a Dream, and the “Drugs are Bad M’kay” assemblies at school . I was always told that abstinence was the way to go but there was nothing wrong with sex, what was I to expect from drugs, as long as I was safe? Before you start thinking I’m a bad girl, I’ve never done anything with a needle, no arrests, OD’s or STDs, and remember, this is just a recap of my life… not how I am now, no regrets and my brain still works as good as it ever has. I started RandomActs, a series of monthly guerilla-style street concerts that ran for almost 3 years until Sacramento PD finally shut us down for good. This was my golden age, I went to Beijing and NYC for a week each, I felt like I could do anything I wanted, I was working at Tower Records as well as fixing computers and was pretty much a girl all the time, everyone was my friend and I felt like art was coming out of every pore in my body.

more soon!

weak

Here’s a picture from last night of Robert Picardo and I. Very nice guy, modest.
I’ve been a part of this film festival since its conception and it’s gotten progressively more and more swanky. I was looking very cute, mixed and mingled at a classy bar, I’ve been involved in everything from having my short film featured to running discussions to cleaning the popcorn machine. I had a good time, but my body is feeling the alcohol, i kinda fell off the wagon last night, I haven’t drank since I started the hormones. I dated one of the festival directors, we’ve got a love/hate relationship and theres good deal of hostility but we keep it cordial. There was a decent chance I was going to sleep with him last night, I feel bad that I didn’t but would have felt worse if I did, I’ve known him since I was 14, I think him, free cocktails and insecurities lead me to this nasty hangover, and I can’t mentally or physically afford to do that anymore. I haven’t posted in a week, i’m overwhelmed by the internet right now, getting more negative feedback than I expected from my new site. Them’s the bricks, more stuff soooooooooon

life history (01) portrait of the artist as a young man

Since I started this site, I’ve received tons of E-mails asking about my past, where I came from, what got me to this point, what I was like as a younger person. I plan to elaborate on a lot of the events I mention here, but for now, you get the short and sweet version.

I was born in Sacramento, California in 1986. I’m Irish mostly, my roots don’t go much further past the dustbowl, both sets of grandparents had the Steinbeck experience in Oklahoma. I was the second child to my parents, my father a truck mechanic and my mother a corrections officer at the time. In the hospital I was given a little stuffed lamb I still love. I have very few early childhood memories, probably my first being an earthquake that shook our house while playing Atari with my brother. My parents got divorced when I was seven years old, my Dad kept the house and my mom kept my brother and I. I stayed with my father every other weekend for most of my young life, I don’t feel comfortable writing about him, so I won’t. I went to Christian school until the divorce, my head was full of religion and I thought the world was a safe place, until my Mom could no longer afford it and I transferred to Public School in the slums of Rosemont.

I went from an 99% upper/middle class private school to a dog-eat-dog environment of ruthless bullies, meth-head teachers and prison yard segregation. We moved around all over the Sacramento area as my mom tried to build a new life for us, her and the man that would become my ex-stepfather were always working so my brother and I learned to fend for ourselves, Latch-Key kids in the purest sense. I went to at least 7 different elementary schools, some for as little as a week. Every new school had new bullies looking to victimize fresh fish, and my short, skinny stature and glasses made me easy pickins. I learned how to joke or talk my way out of beatings, and how to hold my tears when they came.

We eventually started to settle down in a central location, my Mom remarried and I started middle school. My stepfather was a drunk, mentally but rarely physically abusive, he’s responsible for my love of art and film, as well as many of my insecurities. My brother and I were programmers at a very young age, building computers and writing code before going to sleep-over’s or summer camps. Queer-boys my stepfather would call us, and racism, government paranoia, chauvinism and homophobia became a part of my life during stay in the family, I was toughened up and taught that nothing is beautiful and everything hurts.

In 8th grade a popular, over-sized and particularly heartless bully in my gym class picked me up out of the locker room in my underwear and carried me outside for the whole world to see. I was helpless, and as we got outside I struggled enough to make him throw me down a small flight of stairs, breaking both of my wrists. I could no longer program, and was ostracized for “crying like a girl” and getting the kid in trouble, they never fully healed due to the constant “accidental” bumps and stray footballs and basketballs my wrists endured. I still to this day can’t type for more than an hour, I went from a straight A student in the accelerated classes to barely passing, and my Mom still considers that incident to be“the day I stopped giving a fuck”. I started focusing on extracurricular, primarily Drama, and started to get back to good with the social crowd after doing a few plays and stand-up comedy at talent shows. At the beginning of 8th grade, I was dog meat, a crippled wimp, and by the end I was the “will you remember me when you get famous?” kid. This is also when I started to realize that I really liked girl things, and the cycle of guilt had begun.

I know life seems kinda depressing, but I’ve always believed you learn more from sadness than happiness, and as Oasis said, don’t look back in anger.

More tomorrow, thanks for reading.

Trash Film Orgy

Hey there! This Saturday night I went out to the Trash Film Orgy, a late-night bad-movie show at a classic theatre I’ve spent a good portion of my life at, either in the audience, behind the counter and even a few times on the screen. I’ve been going since I was 14, the movies range from gore-fest zombie movies to John Waters (they used to show this before every show) and cult-classics like Phantom of the Mega-Plex . Trash Film is where I first went into public as a girl, and there I’ve always felt free to dress as cute, sexy or ridiculous as I want.

Halloween and events like this often bridge the gap between private crossdressing and becoming open about transgenderism. I never thought I could be a girl until I did the real-life test, dressing up in public and being perceived as a woman. It makes you realize that it is possible, and interacting with people as a girl when you’re a man 364 days out of the year is sweet heaven to those whose lives don’t permit them to be transgendered or even crossdress. I’ll elaborate further on getting over public exposure but for now here’s a little video of me before the show 🙂

buckets

I said in my last post I want to be frank about my experience… so here it goes.

I came buckets last night. I was at home watching Battlestar Galactica and of no fault of my own I got aroused. I hadn’t played with myself since the night before but I didn’t feel like making a big production of it. I fingered my bottom a little bit and used my hand, I don’t know if I hit my prostate just right but after about 5 minutes I came more than I have in my entire life. It wasn’t any more or less pleasurable than it ever has been, It was just a record-breaking amount. I was thinking it was just a fluke but since I’m a woman of science I decided to do a re-test this morning. It was much more intimate this time, with toys and Massive Attack and that thing where you get to the edge, then stop, edging I think it’s called. Even after all that it wasn’t as “impressive” as it was the night before, but I still came an unusual amount.

I’m assuming this is the hormones and though I’m eventually supposed to come less or not at all, maybe as they’re kicking in it they have a reverse effect. I’m not worried, in fact I think I might have some sort of advantage in the distance contest at a state fair or something, but I’m not sure if they have those kinds of contests anymore. Seriously though, I’m just becoming more and more aware that my body is going to go through changes if it hasn’t already, the first twist of a Rubik’s cube with the puzzle is complete.

dos videos nuevo!

Pretty sure that means 2 new videos. I’ve gotten a few emails expressing concern about me stopping this site, I guess I didn’t make it clear enough. RileyKilo.com is super-important to me, as are all the little diapered boys and girls and mommies and daddies that read it. It’s not going away anytime soon. Enjoy the reviews, more stuff soon, my wrists are starting to hurt from all this typing!

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disclaimer

I guess this is a good post to mention this, but this blog isn’t going to be very polite. There’s no kids here, and if you’re underaged and reading this, well you might just be mature enough to handle it. Just make sure to close your eyes if you see anything fleshy…

Earlier today, I was checking out a chatroom on Susan’s Place for the first time to see if it was active or not. There were maybe 15 people total, 12 of which had tags. I came in and talked about my transition, didn’t post the blog or anything, and someone asked me if I was happy as a clam, and I replied yes, Im shitfaced happy. Long story short, I was banned for 2 minutes and when I returned, scolded. I’m under the impression that if you spend time in a chat room hanging out with a bunch of transgendered people, you’ve probably seen enough of the world to hear a “bad word”. Regardless… don’t expect to find any prissy-ness like that here.


Over the course of this blog, don’t be startled if you see…

-nudity-
-rough language-

-fetishism-
-anti-government sentiments-
-self expression-

It’s all part of the fun of being a open minded person! I’m very polite when it’s appropriate, and things change and my rough edges might smooth out, but I’m always going to be me. So this is the disclaimer, I want to give the whole experience without censoring myself. This site isn’t going to be necessarily X rated, more like a hard R or a Kubrick NC-17.

To be honest, the only reason why I’m bringing this up, is because I have something somewhat graphic to report, and I didn’t want to just come out and say it. I’ve exhausted myself writing this, so look for tomorrows post, “Buckets”. Thanks for reading 🙂