There was a 7th grade me pretty close to getting beat up by a bully, I was tiny and wore glasses, bullies could smell the fear on me. I defended myself by saying “but it’s Christmas time?!?”, regardless of the fact that it was March. It got the kids watching laughing, it disarmed the asskicker and prevented an asskicking, kinda like “you wouldn’t hit a girl with glasses?”. I’m a lover, not a fighter, but a talker first and foremost. This post isn’t about me avoiding asskickings, its about Christmas cheer!
Winter is a time for people to migrate or hibernate, I’m sure over the course of human existence the times when people set aside their differences were times when you needed a warm cave to sleep in. I’m sure the first Christmas was some cavemen sharing some nuts and iguana meat and a warm slab to rest on or a dip in the hot springs, just a friendly gathering at Uggs cave. Simply, we celebrate this time of year because it’s cold outside and we do well in packs.
Winter is a brutal season even here in sunny California, and a majority of folks around here see homeless people as subhuman, and the laws prove that. Some bad examples exist and help mold the public opinion, but not every homeless person is fucked up on drugs, just the ones that make themselves noticed. But compassion is out there and i’ve seen much kindness first hand. I’ve heard stories of families offering fresh blankets and garages and spare rooms to people who would otherwise freeze to death or end up in jail due to sit/lie laws. I’ve seen punkrock teenagers making big pots of miso and warm wheat bread, I’ve seen people share their lunch, their money, their time with people in need, it’s beautiful. I’ve seen some sad, sad things in my travel, spoke with the lost and the dead and dying and learned there’s hope among the despair. Many people do choose to be homeless, but you can see it in someones eyes if they are really in need.
I am comfy and warm in a good friends apartment that I’m subletting, a roof over my head and *warmth* are two things I will never take for granted. Enjoy your winter and treasure all you have. More words soon, thanks for reading 🙂
Ramblin’ Riley has been rambling all over the california coast, beaches and bridges. I’m happy to announce that until the holidays are over I’m going to be settled and comfy at a friends apartment, I put down the last of my cash to sublet out a closet fit for Harry Potter… I looked and kinda felt alot like Harry Potter when I was younger. I decided I needed to settle down for a second, I’ve been living life to the fullest and maybe its time to settle down, life doesn’t have to be so *intense*, it could be half full and i’d still be optimistic. I lack the ability to be structured in my travels, rideshares and hitchhiking and couchsurfing and riding trains and camping out under the stars is the only way to get around without a ton of money. I’ve established my apartment situation here after a particularly intense bit of adventure in Santa Cruz and San Fransisco. I’m very excited to be around my stuff again, my friend has been kind to hold it for me, we’ve been friends for a long time so it’s going to be nice to stay here.
Ok! Deep breath, this is going to be a big post, filled mostly with ands and commas, but i’m typing excitedly on my Itouch and still decompressing from the last week… month… year? My house-sitting situation is over, I’ve been off the radar, theres some crazy new news about my unemployment situation, I will tell you as soon as I can and this whole thing is a mess. The news kinda brought me out of a slump, kinda raised the depression that I’ve been feeling, losing friends and your whole world all at once is tough, I was at that shop everyday. Not only did the news prove that my old boss is crazy and irrational, but best of all it assures that I won my unemployment case, no judicial board in the country would accept the madness he submitted. Unfortunately, I have another month or 2 until I’m finally over with it, and my case is on hold until then. I don’t know if I can share the information online legally, I want to be safe but its funny and crazy and shows my old employers true nature. I’m finding out today, I will keep you informed.
I am writing you from from a quite little spot in Davis, California. Since Tuesday I have been all around, I left the house in Sacramento, to Davis, SF, Santa Cruz, San Jose, over the course of 6 days. I’ve been meeting friends and seeing sites, pulling my energy from the city and working with other travelers, I am lucky to be somewhere where there is quite a homeless community. I have learned so much this week, I was taught how to play magic cards and ultimately about alternative forms of currency in alternative lifestyle, like cigarettes in jail. I learned about Rastas and Carrageenan and language and played pinball on the boardwalk and did an open mic and ate a BBQ squid. Needless to say, my head is overflowing. I got to my current location last night around 9, took a much needed shower, got all cute and into my footy sleeper and ate French bread and artichokes and watched The Town and then Devil with friends. It was almost like coming home, I’m thankful for my friends and it’s nice to be around my *stuff*. Outside my window I’m seeing the trees do a crazy dance outside, but I’m safe inside and warm under a blanket.
Have you ever had a situation in your life where you’ve felt you reaaaallly shouldn’t be there? Not like walking down a dark alley, by kinda like that, where you decide you’re just going to play this out, but that flee instinct is screaming at you to just get the fuck out, you have no place here. I’ve felt like that a couple times in my life, and one of those times was this weekend. I didn’t flee, and everything turned out quite well, but I think if you panic, or show fear, then people pounce. I’ve been writing down most of this stuff, some of it is pretty deeply ingrained, I like telling stories and I’ve been rounding up some pretty good ones.
This time of year, I’m feeling all those warm and fuzzy feelings that people feel for the holidays or equinox, i’m just feeling happy because you forget how nice it is to be warm when its so cold outside. I’m getting together with family on Christmas, they were all out of town for thanksgiving, which I spent largely by myself. I’m looking forward to it, I have a pretty small family, but we get along, I think the further from our childhoods we are the better we get with our family, and that applies for parents as well. Our whole situation isn’t focused on any religion, just family and food and usually a movie. We’ve done the Chinese food on Christmas thing more than once in my family, it’s always a relaxing day… well, before and after my stepdad left. . I had a few relatively traumatic Christmases when I was were younger, but the person that made it traumatic is no longer around, so whatevs.
I’m safe and sound, done adventuring until after the holidays, I have some video ideas, I need to keep moving and creating and exploring, both online and in the real world. Thanks for checking up on me my dear internet friends, more words and images soon.
Let’s get SRS is the name of this blog, it’s a fun little double entendre about my journey, sexual reassignment surgery and getting srsly srs about life. I gave it that name because I do plan to get SRS, it’s a goal of mine, but there’s a good deal of consideration that goes into that, and I don’t make a call until I have all the facts.
I’ve done a wealth of research, but I’ve never really had a long conversation about “everything” with a post-op girl. I remember talking to a full-time girl for the first time, I had so many questions but I was too nervous and flustered to ask them, afraid to sound naive or perverted. Later I became more comfortable, learned more, read more to learn better questions. The Internet is a good tool, but I’ve learned so much from the 1 on 1 interaction, over chat, cam or coffee. I guess I’m that kind of learner, textbooks were always a foreign language to me. I have some XP to gain about the medical and physical effects, and I will share all I learn.
A local friend heard a trans friend tell a story that I love… its basically about a postoperative girl who was doing yoga and while doing a pose she unlocked feelings “down there” that made sex even more awesome from then on. I’m pretty intouch with my body, eat great when I can and keep active and fit. The hormones have a good place to land and any surgery should be without complications, I am in the best health of my life. Regardless of whether the yoga story is true or possible, I’m sure that if and when I get SRS, I’m going to have a very happy vagina.
There’s a ton of reasons why I look forward to SRS, it’s the end of my journey in many ways. I don’t claim to see the future, I like my penis and it has served me well, the times we’ve had together I will never forget. We’ve also had alot of hard times together… A friend once mused “erections are great, except when their not” and the not is the majority in my life, it’s not the way I like to express myself sexually, they don’t *feel* right. I have explored chastity but I see that as harnessed male energy or sexual control and submission, cool but not an ultimate solution.
In the later stages of hormones, my sexual virility will decline, and my erections will be less frequent and potentially cease. That doesn’t mean I still won’t be an excitable little minx, I just will express it differently. If I’m happy with that, I won’t get SRS. If I find that I really don’t want to part with my penis in it’s current form, I won’t, part of my journey is making big decisions like that. Things change, and part of understanding ones life is embracing the fluidity of it. For a while after 9/11, new emotions flooded in, I’ll never forget seeing the second plane hit. I got totally behind George W. Bush, I wanted them to bomb everyone and everything… I was 14, I’m being honest, forgive me. I’m trying to say we all have our own personal 9/11’s, and if things change I won’t be disappointed…
That word, Disappointment, is another big thing. One of the troll reactions I get the most has to do with regretting getting SRS, that it won’t be as I thought it was and I’ll be “sad for the rest of my life” Well, I’ve got quite a few things in my life that I could spend all day regretting, but I move on and work towards making better decisions in the future. SRS is be a big decision, expensive and lifelong, but it’s worth whatever risk to me. Its not to integrate, its not for sex, its for ME. going through that part of my transition is the final and most important step in my transition, the way I’ve seen it since I knew it was possible but it doesn’t make me more or less of a woman than I already am, but it will make me less of a man. Simply, I know it will drastically improve my quality of life, so i’m looking forward to it.
My favorite phrase lately has been “rich tapestry”, it describes my life, sexuality,worldview and personal relations, as intricate as it is unique, complicated and beautiful. A tangled web I’ve woven, my armor, I’ve made it strong but I can still unravel and restich if need be. When I see myself 5 years, I don’t see myself with a penis. When I look In the mirror, I see myself as beautiful, happy girl. When I look in my pants, I see an old friend who’s going to go through quite a big change, but I love and support him.
Thanks for reading, this site has kept me on my toes, always thinking about the next step. My introspection meter is off the charts, and thanks for hearing me out and cheering me on ❤
It’s a lovely day today, the sky is grey like a kitten, all fluffy and cloudy. I woke up feeling quite refreshed, I’m looking forward to the weeks ahead, there’s going to be lights everywhere and chances to feel warm, cozy, this is tea season! I am *really* into tea, coffee makes me feel less awesome than it did in high school, especially with hormones, and tea can be really healthy for a growing young woman, or anyone! I get from the jars at my local co-op a bit of dandelion leaf, mint and mostly whatever ceylon green tea i pick up, gunpowder at the moment. It’s so cheap and a really nice way to wake up, I didn’t do yoga this morning, but I will tonight. I’m totally enjoying my last few days of having a big nice house to myself, but I’m excited to get out on the road again, I’ve got places to go, people to meet!
I’m using up my supply of goodnites, have a very busy afternoon and evening ahead of me, there are ducks out of row… I like ducks, I wish the zoo here didn’t just look like a bunch of animals in cages. I don’t have a problem with zoo’s, I have a problem with crappy zoo’s. I never really thought about it until now, zoo cafeteria’s shouldn’t serve animals, that’s like going and seeing a movie about popcorn… I don’t know, I’m going to miss my 2 fluffy companions here. I want to hangout at pets mart and sample of the puppies. I’ve always said I love animals enough to never own one, that makes sense with my adventurous living, I don’t want some parakeet in an alley somewhere singing “mama was a rolling stone”. Someday I’ll settle down, but for now I shall live vicariously through other pet-owners.
Cool. So, you have a good day too. Know that I’m going to be out there somewhere in the world, happy and on the right path ❤
Wow… I can’t believe it’s monday, it feels like this weekend just wouldn’t end! I’ve been doing some “winter preparedness” stuff around where I’m housesitting and I am pretty worn out, but last night I had a chance to get all back into little girl mode 🙂
It’s easy to forget how I feel about diapers and being little, I forget how lovely it is, I forget how much it centers me. I forget that for the rest of my life diapers and I will be linked, even if only by search results. I did that for a reason, to both “come out” and to avoid the binge-purge cycle, I want to always acknowledge my love of diapers and have happy feelings about them. When I was younger I was worried about my love of diapers, I felt awful about it and feared that I would like them for the rest of my life, that I would never be normal and always have to hide and never be able to look people in the eyes. Shame, the shame of it all, theres not a shame bone left in my body. There’s a few regret bones, I’ve made some poor decisions in my life but I chalk those up to selfishness or missed opportunities, part of growing up is learning from mistakes, not feeling shame about your actions.
Seriously, I’m over shame. Lately I’ve had a bit of a backslide in my thinking, and I just needed a bit of time to work things out in my head. I get about a 33/33/33 split of awesome emails from cool people, foreign or one-line emails, and then pure hate mail. I have had issues with stalkers even before I started showing my face online, I don’t want to get into it but I generally read my hate mail in case theres details in there that could harm me. In the last week I’ve been clearing out my inbox, getting to the last 5 months of E-mails, and I’ve read quite a bit of hate. I guess I could blame the season, seeing all the normality, being around my hometown, all that, but for just a minute I felt like I was really doing something wrong.
I know my love of diapers and ageplay has nothing to do with actual children, I know that when I buy diapers or baby stuff I look like a mom not a fetishist, I know that it’s deeper than a way to get off. I’ve described it as a lifestyle choice or a personal underwear choice, I’ve been afraid to use the word fetish, but get over it Riley! Diapers turn me on, and a fetish is simply an attraction towards an inanimate object. I don’t masturbate in my diapers generally, thats something I trained out of me at a pretty young age, but I can’t help getting an erection in diapers… a fellow transgirl once said that it wasn’t her penis she had a problem with, it’s when it pops up inconveniently. My love of diapers and my gender alignment are linked, and I do look forward to the day when I can wear and wet with more appropriate anatomy. Being trans is much deeper than any sexual thing, as is diapers, but theres also quite a bit of sexual attraction there, dressing up cute, panties and all that, they are lovely and do get me quite excited. I’ve worried about using the “F” word because of the connotation that whatever objects you fetishize are required to have a sexual encounter, and that something like transgender is a fetish in people eyes.