Dog Days

This is my obligatory post to let everyone know I'm still kicking. I try to only write when I have something to say, but after some of the last posts, I feel compelled to keep people abreast of my ongoing struggle. The urges to play in traffic or test the sharpness of various objects is much-diminished, but I hesitate to say that I'm happy just yet.

It's funny. A couple of weeks ago, I discovered a new song (new to me, anyway). The song is called "Dog Days Are Over", and it's by a little British art rock outfit called Florence and the Machine. I first heard it in promos for the USA series "Covert Affairs", and it's since popped up in the trailers for "Eat, Pray, Love". I first heard a snippet in a promo, then I watched the video on YouTube, and a few minutes later downloaded the song from Amazon. It's catchy, and the video is energetically exuberant, with wild costumes and eye-popping colors (as far as those costumes go, I think Florence could give Lady Gaga a run for her money). I wish I knew a way to carry that happiness around with me, without listening to the song all the time.

It's now been six months and a couple of weeks since the last time I went out of doors en femme. That's the longest I've been since I came out again in 2005. I don't define myself as a crossdresser, so I it's not like I need to dress up like a woman all the time, but not presenting myself in public the way I prefer is wearing on me I know, I know; technically I'm crossdressing all the time, not owning more than a stitch or two of male clothing, but not wearing makeup, or hair, or some of my pretty tops and shoes is killing me. I need to find a place and time to get out as myself, or as my perception of myself, and I'd rather it not be the dance bar full of college students that Ms. Self-Medicating told me about. I've checked out their photos on Facebook, and that is SO not my scene.