Hey there! I’m going to be going to a big ol’ wedding this week! I’m heading down to sunny San Diego for my brothers wedding. I’ve (finally) posted another video explaining the whole situation, so watch, enjoy and I’ll be posting more pics sooooooooon!
And then it got bad. My house burnt down due to the individual downstairs, I got in a nasty car accident, and some other stuff that I’ll talk about when I feel comfortable talking about it. I got a lease in the part of town I grew up in, worked at a medical supplies call-center spending my days denying diabetics their needles. The call center shutdown and I got laid off, my job downgraded again to working at Staples as a boy, I felt like I might not ever be a girl. I hated myself and I wanted to die.
Then, it gets better. I was introduced to the ex-boyfriend of my best-friends ex-girlfriends roommate (exhales). 2 years older than me, he’s a straight, “rich kid” with the same creative aspirations as myself, same mindset, very different upbringing. We met for the same reason I met Pauly Shore, Jesse Camp etc, I just happened to be the one girl that knew where to get mushrooms in town. We became quick friends, and when my lease ran up, I moved into his too big for 2 people home just outside of Sacramento. We built a garden, would spend every night like old angry codgers cursing the ills of the world, but also trying to figure out what we could do to make it better. We played Warcraft and blew up zombies instead of blowing up lines of cocaine, listened to audio books instead of punk-rock, my pseudo age of enlightenment. My reputation preceded me in this environment, and I felt like I was Captain Cool of the S.S. Awesome, “king shit of fuck mountain” to quote Mr. Show. I made a short film that was very well received in the local scene, and was writing something new everyday. I started professionally consulting again, bought a car and a Canon GL2, I was healthy and wealthy but still alone when it came to my transitioning. I was living as a girl and working at the theatre on and off, but it didn’t feel real, It felt the same as trying on my Moms clothes at age 12, its like I was pretending.
After renting with my friend for about 6 months, we went our separate ways, him to Berkeley and myself to Sacramento. I moved into a studio apartment, started working for a sushi restaurant as a second job to the theatre. I was fired from the sushi joint for dressing as a girl, I had a choice between suing and having the Korean gangs that run aforementioned sushi joint break my pretty face, or just eating my pride and taking it like a victim. Shortly after, I started working for Environment California; they let people smoke cigarettes inside the actual call-center, so I picked up a nasty smoking habit. Nicotine has got to be the most addictive substance on the planet, more than orgasms and laughter combined. Luckily, I quit since I started hormones, anything can be beat if you actually want to quit, more on that later.
The EnviroCA call center shut down, that place was built to spill. I decided It might be a good idea to get a roommate, I had turned my apartment into an AdultBaby nursery, and was spending a lot of time away from my apartment partying, doing E, traveling, making film, working at the indie theatre and Tower Records. It was in this apartment that I started my blog, probably the most positive thing to come from this part of my life, but also started to pull me away from any sense of normalcy in my life. Tower closed which was to be expected, I was barely scraping by at my minimum wage job and I was driving around in a car that someone had scraped “I’m a fag” into the side of it. A friend of mine from high-school and I got a lease on an apartment, where I turned my bedroom into a nursery once again and focused my time on my art, started DJ’ing weddings/mitzvahs etc, I was broke but living and working as a girl.
I first tried seriously to get hormones here, this was roughly around the end of 2007, I had tried before, but didn’t feel mentally, financially or physically ready to start, I needed to quit my vices and be comfortable with life and myself. I saw some doctors, had a bad experience with psych therapy, did some tests and was denied under my ‘child of California state-worker’ healthcare, I could have pushed further and learned the system better, or started on InHousePharmacy, but instead I just gave up and cycled back into depression. I was living as a girl, but I felt like it was all for not, I wanted to start hormones terribly bad, I felt like I was growing older by the second. I wasn’t a happy camper, and I was really using the AB/DL stuff as a comfort device, I slept in my crib pretty often and was always diapered at home. My life was pretty sad, but a little spark was about to ignite all the explosives in my mental cargoship.
“From this point on” in my next post. Thanks for reading.
I’m not a fetishist in the sense that I don’t NEED anything to enjoy romance/sex. Most of the sex I’ve ever had has been vanilla, all of the ”relationships” I’ve been in have been with people much less kinky than my very kinky self. Before coming out about being transgendered and AB/DL, I dated more than I do these days. I go months without sex, I’m relatively happy by myself, sexually and mentally. I do get lonely.
That’s not what this post is about, this is about how much I like being tied up. I at one point was a strong practitioner of Self Bondage but have somewhat lost interest in that. It’s lost the thrill after I’ve done it enough times, and it’s kinda hard to take it seriously. I’ve used some tactics such as freezing keys in ice cubes and using combination locks in a dark room, so I have to wait for the sun comes up to unlock my bounded self. It’s fun, but without a partner it does get a bit boring. Adding diapers to the equation makes it much more interesting…
I think many of us who share the same “interests” or “kinks” as I do (bondage, AB/DL etc) fantasize about not having control, especially when it comes to using our diapers. Ideally this would be achieved through a 24/7 diaper regiment and tons of dedication. For those of us that have not attempted, failed, or are currently going through that process, bondage can be a lovely alternative. Though I don’t have hardly any experience with experienced partners, the times I have been tied up have been amazing. I love the helpless feeling, the attention, the mystery of whats going to happen next, and the relaxing feeling of an utter lack of responsibility.
I generally use the term “SubSpace” to describe this feeling, its like a mix of riding your bike down a big hill and falling asleep with a teddy bear in your arms. I cried a bit to myself when I was first tied up by another person, diapered in my crib, but it was just a little whimper and made me feel better. I’m blessed with a vivid imagination, and when I’m bound or even just in little girl mode I can kinda astral project to watch myself, and seeing myself this way only solidifies the subspace I’m in. I don’t have to be bound, just the right attire or setting can trigger this meditative state. As far as I can tell, this is as close as a person as skeptical and, dare I say, nihilistic, as myself can get to actually meditating, even breaching on the transcendental. I’m not a total nihilist, I’m a sunny-side up nihilist, there are no absolutes and everything is subjective, but as a society and as individuals we should learn all we can, have a great time and be damn sure not to take advantage of anyone. It’s this mindset that allows me to explore both ends of the spectrum, both pain and pleasure, fear and comfort, love and loneliness. The hurt makes the healing, and vice-versa.
This is a recollection of my past experiences with bondage, training and humiliation. Thanks for looking back with me, now it’s time to look forward. I’ve been playing around, testing the waters, and now it’s time for some real experiences.
I’ve been traveling a lot lately, Within the last year, I’ve done the whole East Coast tour of Maine, Connecticut, Rhode Island (trying to find Quahog), New York (Albany and NYC), Mass (Boston and Springfield). I probably liked Boston the most, I did also have a Midwest experience more recently, spending time in downtown Cincinnati, and an even more recent trip to San Diego, where I have to go back at the beginning of next month. I’ve been all over the place, more for adventure than enjoyment, business over pleasure. I always end up here in California, it’s my home, I know everyone here, especially in my town, and even though it’s not the best place to live, there’s some real people here and a lot fo independent culture, Sacramento is right for me, at least for now.
One of my biggest adventures was taking a Greyhound bus from Albany, New York to Sacramento, CA. It took about 4 days and I went through just about every major city in the country, and had just about enough time to visit a local bar in each one. It was hell on earth, and I plan to write more about it once I’ve recovered from the psychological scars… well, it wasn’t that bad, but it was bad. The trip did grant me the one thing I love the most about traveling, meeting new people. I’m generally very friendly and find conversations with other friendly people to be a great way to pass the time. I talk about myself a lot, and even cutting out all of the niche things about me like transitioning or being a well-known AB/DL personality, I generally get a big ego stroke about how fascinating my life is compared to your average joe/jane six-pack. And as an added note, I’m never taking greyhound again, not even across the street. If the cities about to be destroyed and the only way out is greyhound buses, I’d just stretch out my legs at home, seriously, I’d rather fucking die.
Let me get back to the point. I’ve been traveling a lot lately, and the soundtrack to my travels is a key element. I have a crappy 2gig MP3 player I bought on the street in Boston but it’s provided me with some great emotional cues, such as listening to Aesop Rock while walking the streets in Brooklyn, Lou Reed on the Chelsea Piers, Modest Mouse in the lonesome crowded Midwest, Sublime in Ocean Beach San Diego, and my two favorite mass transportation songs, “Band on the Run” by Wings and “America” by Paul Simon. Music makes the feelings I have more than feelings (I listened to Boston on top of the Fenway stadium, amazing) it makes them into moments, moments I can still feel when I think about them or hear the song, things that are going to be with me until I can’t remember things anymore.
One song in particular by a relatively unknown to the populace but required listening for hipsters and indie kids, The Mountain Goats, has been on constant rotation in my life. It’s basically just John Darnielle and friends, and he’s produced over 20 albums over the last 2 decades. “Color in your Cheeks” is a song that represents myself at one point, and the kindness I’ve felt from strangers. It’s simply about a couple that takes in travelers from all over and shows them the kindness and care that human beings should naturally show each other. It’s from the simple but eloquent album “All Hail West Texas”. The album begins with 2 other great songs, one about a star high-school running back who injures his knee, makes new friends then does federal time for selling acid, and another about two young friends who are ostracized for their innocent love of death metal. This kind of music I consider to be the purest, an expression of one persons perceptions about the world and the life they’ve lead, I feel this music speaks for me.
Here’s a free download of the full album of “All Hail West Texas” I’ve purchased this record, as well as his 2004 We Shall All Be Healed multiple times for friends, so if this music effects you as it has me, please support him, John Darnielles music is going to be rediscovered by every generation for years to come and it’s all pure love.
Thanks for reading, I’m back and settled in California, happy to be home
I had a little dream last night…
The breeze is one of the strongest memories, I wasn’t wearing panties and I felt cold. I was in a non-descript white room (nursery?) and I could feel I was wearing a dress just by the fabric touching my legs, a Tena diaper magically put itself on me while I was standing, all I could remember was wetting it. I woke up much later, cold. I wasn’t wearing a diaper and haven’t worn very often lately, its hard to enjoy it when I’m as stressed out as I’ve been the last month or so. I was just wearing a now very-soaked night shirt and panties, I wrapped up all my sheets, took a shower and cried a little bit, but in a good way. I put a diaper on with lots powder and grabbed my teddy-bear and slept on the couch under the glow of the TV. I’m a happy girl, I wet the bed and need my diapers now and then, that’s all 🙂
It’ll be 2 months tomorrow since I started hormones, and I’m starting to notice my first “mental” changes. I recently went and saw “Bakjwi” by the director of the amazing “Oldboy”, and had a unique reaction to one of the many sex-scenes in the film. I just felt so much more into the characters, a virgin priest-turned vampire getting forced into sex by a trampy orphan, and a later scene where he loses his virginity in a hospital room with her, I felt really different about passionate lovemaking, feelings I’ve never had before. I really wanted to be that girl, and I could imagine myself as her much easier.
My sense of smell has changed a tiny bit, I’ve been noticing my body odor change a little bit, and I’ve been enjoying smelling candles more than ever, but the most significant change is making me understand pheromones clearer than ever. I live with a straight guy, we’re great friends and collaborators and he’s non-judgmental to all the counter-culture stuff I’m into, and there’s no sexual pressure or anything, I’m not interested in him and I know he’s not interested in me when it comes to sex or romance.
Now that that’s out of the way, one night he came home from the gym, and he smelled like I’ve never smelled him before, not bad, not terribly good, it just got my little girl heart in a flutter, I felt ashamed and attracted and confused and excited all at the same time. I’m starting to get a better idea of the rules of attraction, and how a guy could really drive a girl crazy, just by the way he smells. Other than that, all I’ve learned is that I really need a boyfriend… or my roommate needs to start locking his door at night 😛
On the Wal-mart note, a friend needed a meat-mallet and I wanted to make-sure that Spiro was on their 4$ prescription list. This particular friend wasn’t in the “let’s not shop at Wal-mart” boat thats so popular nowadays, so we drive there. I take a phone-call while my friend goes inside; I then realized I was in a very unfriendly environment, the front of a Wal-mart in a not-so-great part of town. There’s a couple unkempt individuals asking people for change and this big guy keeps going “hey bro, got some change” to everyone. So the phone call ends, I’ve maybe been standing outside for a 3 mins top, I’m not going to go in and try to find my friends, and its like a million degrees outside so I’m not going to wait by the car. I’m trying to not pay attention, standing off to the side, pretending to text, when he goes “hey bro” almost directly to me… I kinda look up, realizing he’s talking to someone else. Now I should point out that I wasn’t well dressed myself, just a pair of jeans and my “I Hate Myself and I Want To Die” T-shirt, hadn’t shaved my face that day, but I was pretty far away from my town and I didn’t plan on going anywhere, I looked passable, I just wasn’t wearing make-up or anything. When I look up, he scans me and says “why when I say bro you look up when you got titties”. I just shy away and look at my phone and start walking towards the car, dude gets up and starts following me. “so you’re a guy? Are you a guy?”. I get to the car and slip in, I smirked a little to myself as the electric window rolled up, like an old lady in the city trying to avoid the riff-raff.
The guy just kept waving his arms and questioning my gender, unfortunately this isn’t terribly uncommon, to quote Clerks, “this town is full of savages”. I’m calling my friend inside when I see a this brown fist come out of nowhere, knocking the guy clean to the ground, and 10 seconds later there’s 5 mexican guys in Wal-Mart uniforms chasing the dazed and stumbling dude out of the parking lot. The guy who threw the punch was being equally creepy to be honest, he told me he’d been waiting for a reason to punch that guy all day and started trying to lay a lot of game on me, but luckily my friend ran up to the car to save me from the maniacs that have swarmed me in my 3 minutes at Wal-Mart. Driving away I heard my good Samaritan yell something along the lines of “see if I help you again… bitch!”
Anyway, this was far from traumatic, more just tiring. I can’t even go get a meat-mallet without something random like this happening to me. I guess I deserve it, living outside of the mainstream, drawing attention to myself just by the way I live in general. People must think I’m selfish and so they want to punish me, or maybe they just think other people won’t care if they fuck with an outcast like me, maybe get some torches and run me out of the village.
I didn’t learn anything from this experience, except maybe that the concept of Alcatraz or Escape From N.Y./L.A. is already in effect, and instead of on an island its just in big warehouses and they build one in every city and if you don’t live up to class requirements you’re forced to go there, at least every once in a while. No variety, nutrition-less food, censored media and everything feels like it comes from a sliding tray behind metal grating. And by the way, i’m a total hypocrite, in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.
I’m done thinking about Wal-mart, I’m going to have to go there at least once a month, I’ll just have to get one of those K-9 training bite-jackets before hand.
As someone who lives in a metropolitan area, I’m lucky enough to have very easy access to a planned parenthood. I’ve been going since I was 18 getting tests regularly, I never do anything unsafe and am totally clean, it’s mostly just for peace of mind. Its basically free, I’ve used a fake name in the past, but my most recent times have been under my actual name, but they never check ID and they usually just ask for a unspecified amount for a donation where I tend to give 20 more or less.
Tests are free, results are free, the only thing that costs is outside testing, the kind I need to be approved for hormone therapy. Out of the 10 or so centers in my area, there’s only 1 doing transgender care with only 1 nurse practitioner qualified to see me. At my most recent appointment the assistant nurse was a very friendly, very welcoming and very gay young man who fawned over me with things like “omg I’m so glad that we have more transgendered people here I love what you’re doing and am very happy to have you as part of our family”. Apparently I’m the first person to give their transgendered services a spin. As an extra vote of confidence, when the nurse practioner came out her first words were “bear with me”.
I was given some information to fill out, the usual doctor stuff along with the more risque Planned Parenthood stuff about my sexual patterns, current partners, sexual assault history. I was also given a transgendered specific questionnaire that asked about how I identify myself, how I live, how long I’ve been doing this, and even some cross dresser/transgender clarifying questions. I was surprised about how personal it was, about who I’m attracted to and how I first realized I was trans. I felt as if whomever was going to see me had a pretty good idea of who I was, which usually makes me uncomfortable, but was very appropriate here.
She was well informed, the only “Dr” I’ve met that actually understands what I’m talking about when I talk about the Harry Benjamin Standards of Care or InHousePharmacy. She complimented my passability and seemed happy to see me. We talked about how the estrogen has been treating me, and where I plan to go with everything. I feel confident that I’m taking the right tests and precautions, and I’m surprised I got a high quality of care.
I’d like to go more into the finer details of my trips to planet parenthood, look for that soon. I wish I was witty enough to think of the title of this post on my own, but I have to credit that phrase to IG-88, that Dash Rendar blasting junk-bot. Fidelium and a bunch of other good noise comes from this label.
More stuff sooooooon, I promise!