Come on up to the house

Come on up to the house. The tea is brewing. And if you need something stronger there's beer in the ice box. Nothing fancy mind you, just honest American brew.

The Mississippi will crest in Southwestern Mississippi this week flooding famrland, churches, chicken houses, and juke joints. Sadly, the poor have no where to go.

My heart pours out to them, since many are so poor and cognitively deficient, this flood is literally Biblical to the masses who subsist on corncake and game for their meals (yes, world, the rural South is third world) and do not possess the means to leave town. There world will be under water. Wiped out. Our own tsunami-like disaster.

Mean while in the northern portions of the South, the Mid-Atlantic, gay marriage/civil unions are becoming mainstream political fodder, hopefully trans rights will follow.

And me on my little hill....feeling a well of creative forces move inside. This big ol gal will pick up her guitar and pen this week.

In my personal life...the marriage is going well. We have spent time together sharing, but the lack of interface re: crossdressing/trans feelings are nil, as is the sex. life. as in. nada. And what does one expect when your "straight" partner comes out as a tall awkward girl?

I keep waking up wondering where my hips disappeared to, and feel a nurturing pull towards earth.

Valentine's Day extra note for married genderqueer couples

the missus and I went shopping and she purchased a cute purple dress from Target. She picked the purple over the other colors, and I always defer to her taste when shopping, because to share one's clothes is as intimate as any other human expression. Also, we've devoted ourselves to having more sex.

Can anyone say: Best wife ever!

Dear me, in the closet again?

For me crossdressing has always been a dark pull, like a gravity, or wet jeans that suck and tease me down, down, down. I don't mean to paint it darkly, but darkly it often feels, for because I am a secondary, or latent transperson, it is cognitively difficult at times to strip away hiding and lying patterns of defenses that I have employed over the years.

When I came out to my spouse, it was one of the most awful psychic rippings I've taken in my 35+ years on the planet. And for the better part of a year I have not had those darkly thoughts, those defensive maneuverings.

It's like I'm out of the closet, but I'm in a bigger closet.

Me spouse is right to hold me fast to being secret in the big woody south. Still, sometimes I feel like she doesn't want me to express my true self at all, unless we're shopping.

It's bizarre. I'm getting mixed signals.

I feel like a child whose mother is disapproving of the friends I have chosen.

Only my friends live in my heart and head and want to come over more often.

Sigh.

What's a gal to do?

The above pic is Candy Darling, pure genius.

Going to and fro and walking up and down

Holy shite muslims, ladies.

Summer is running away from me. I haven't posted in some time and Let. Me. Tell. You.

What an awesome time I am having...

recap: cassidy is: straight married crossdresser/trans woman writer arty hippie freak living in the middle of nowheresville and married to a hot mamma who tolerates my tg lifestyle.

newsflash: recently hot momma and I had a girl frienascance. We went shopping. Now my hot momma is a bargain shopper and chic, and we went on a whirlwind tour of one kick-ass mall (the nearest mall is 1.5 hrs away...

Mostly we shopped here.

And loved it...

Now this experience just made me fall in love all over again because I was accepted. Hands down. Be who you are. By the one person I have been terrified of losing. It was like being married all over again, but this time I was the one proposed to...only my proposal was like (wink) let's go look at some hip clothes...

A dream come true for a married t-girl. Most of us live lives of secrecy or desperate shared whispers...

Damn, I know those tones and feel unfettered for the first time in like, ever...

I feel like a whole new life is waiting for the two of us...for me. I mean, I always had permission to explore my feminine side, but I feel like I have been accepted as being in-between. Being trans. Which is true. And it is great to feel like I'm welcome under the umbrella.

We spent the rest of the week chatting about material, maxi-dresses, cute tops, and trying on gothic jewelry. She still doesn't want to see me dressed...she models clothes we both are interested in (a bonus for me!) and window shop and talk fashion. And eat, and laugh, and hold hands.

Yay, me!

Bonus: we shopped clearance racks and saved bucks.

Creatively: working on a manuscript

I have two poems appearing in a t-friendly lit journal

Spring blues

Spring is the time of rebirth and renewel and fucking, and lots of late nights and warm sweaters, and not to mention a blanket, stars, a new pair of sandals, and a pretty sundress.

So far my spring has been anything but.

Oh dear, where to begin.

First I've been doing more reading than writing lately, and nothing supple on the T-fiction count, at least this month.

Maritally my T-ness has become quite the distraction. Sometimes I think I misjudged how she'd react when I came out. Part of me was like ..."well, duh." Of course she'd be freaked.

And the other part of me, the wistful romantic, really hoped her firery, artistic spirit would accept me. She hung out with people like me (read: gender variant, or open to gender variancy) all through college and grad- school. We hung out with people like me when we first dated Turned out she's become much more conservative.

Shit, not that I blame her.

(pause to sip my very cold, very white wine)

She has every right to be, but boy was I too optimistic.

Anyhoo, enough of me...I'm bored, you must be.

Anybody hitting the spring yard sales. Picked up a cute, light (read: super cool for hot summer porch nights) brown and gold spag-strap dress, similar style to one pictured here.