Last photo is me at the store. :p

Well, it wasn’t that bad, really. Just long. It was two and a half hours of questions. Most of those were just multiple choice questions on paper. If I’m depressed a lot, and how long it lasts. Stuff like that. I even had to rate every single part of my body. That was fun. Not.

I struggled with some of the questions, part out of fear of giving the ‘wrong’ answer. I think I did okay though, and not have the results be that I am some schizo who needs to be locked up asap. :p

Afterward I spent some time window shopping at Schiphol Airport. They have a Sissy Boy store there which I think is funny. Too bad the store itself sucks royally.

I don’t wear ‘m often enough. :D

And yes, those are the same pants I just bought too.

They’re just how I like ‘m. Tight and low. ^.~

There were still a few sand sculptures there, Disney themed, but I think they had been there for a while. They didn’t look so pretty in some places.
 

So it was gonna be this huge social event with tons of people and I admit I was quite nervous about that. There’d be a whole lot of people who had never seen me after I started my transition so I had no idea what to expect.

Well, when the day came near I of course had to figure out what I was gonna wear. Luckily a few days earlier when I was out with my mom and my aunt, who just flew in from Ireland to attend this family event, I found and bought some neat clothes. One piece I was pretty sure I was gonna wear. I bought two hooded long sleeve sweaters. They’re short and cute. I got one in pink and another one in black.

At home I still had a cute tight pink top that I thought would look great with it and together with my black pants and bright pink studded belt I thought it would make an awesome look, which it did. My mom had some nice jewelry to go with it so I was wearing none in the pictures I took.

The party itself was great fun. Though a bit awkward too. One of the things I found out the past few months is that it is far easier to be myself among people who don’t know me from before my transition. I guess with people who do, namely family, I’m a bit too aware of the “but wait… he… I mean she.. was never like that!” thoughts they will have. I know I shouldn’t care about that but it’s still tough. It is easier with certain people than with others because I know they won’t judge me as quickly.

The place was decorated in a French bistro type setting and there was even an accordionist playing in the first hour while most guests were still arriving. Nice, and he was good, but we were glad he wasn’t gonna play for the entire night! There were spots to get food, even hot food, but I didn’t eat much really.

Later on the DJ started to do his thing and played lots of music to cater the crowd. Most of that wasn’t really my thing though. While not necessarily bad music it wasn’t the type I generally listen to. No Britney, no Gaga, no Avril, so not really my thing, lol. I did attempt to dance somewhat later in the evening but truthfully, I sucked at it. Feeling socially awkward didn’t help matters of course.

I made one big mistake near the end of the evening. While I had been drinking whine throughout the evening later on I was offered a drink by one of my cousins and dumb me asked for a cola-vieux. This wouldn’t be so bad if it was earlier but it was near the end, and when everyone was getting ready to leave I slammed the remaining part of my drink. It didn’t ‘hit’ until after we all left but long story short: I fell asleep on my mom’s couch and woke up a few hours later and walked home.

While clearly a staged shot, I do play. Just not as often as I used to.

Years ago I actually had private lessons and was actively playing classical guitar with the plan to try and go to the conservatory and keep doing classical studies. I had the talent but sadly I never followed through on that because of many stupid reasons and practically quit playing for a very long time.

Nowadays I pick it up every now and then and just shred out some metal riffs. It is good for anger management sometimes too.

It is a Samick 24 fret featuring a genuine Floyd Rose tremolo bar with double locking system and gold plated parts. It is many, many years old and damn near destroyed the thing by messing with it so much. Later on I even lowered the attack to practice double tapping techniques which I was heavily into for a while. If I were to truly play it again on a regular basis it would need a complete rewiring though, not sure it is worth the trouble.

Anyway, having like zero trans-contacts in my own damn country I decided to give it a shot. I checked their website only to find out the next meeting was merely days away. This made me nervous as I don’t do well with deadlines, self-imposed or otherwise.

I really wanted to try this so I sent them an email asking what the procedure was for attending for the first time and got a (long) reply back saying it was perfectly fine to just drop by though this specific time was going to be a little different. They were having a barbecue and there would be no speaker this time around. This sounded pretty good to me, so my mind was made up and I was going to go.

Now, what to wear? I considered going Goth, not for shock value but because it makes me feel comfortable, but it was a very hot and sunny day so I decided to go with the black and pink look instead. It’s a look I have become skilled in pulling off so I figured that would be best. Also for any possible makeup fixings throughout the day.

Getting there was a drag, relying on public transport really sucks and the bus ride especially is the worst part. It takes forever. A woman stepped on the bus a few stops later and sat in the seat in front of me. Now, I would swear she was also a transsexual and I figured on her way to the meeting as well but a few stops later she got off the bus. Maybe I was projecting because it was in my mind but I was dead sure. Odd.

When I finally got to Transvisie I was briefly introduced to everyone. There were probably about 30 people there, of all ages and sizes (heh), though I couldn’t help feeling like the kid at a grown ups party. This feeling didn’t go away at all throughout the entire thing. Not uncommon for me as I’m far from a normal person, and not because I am a transsexual either. I’m quite weird by nature and somewhat childlike (more on this in a later blog entry).

I did talk to a bunch of people but for a large part stood outside at the actual barbecue and talked to the people there and the ones smoking around the corner. In fact, most of my actual conversations where with the foreigners. Typical. I did not manage to make a single noteworthy connection to anyone at all though.

Not because I didn’t try, but because they were simply not my kind of people. I don’t really fit in. There were a few exceptions but I didn’t get to talk to them enough. Maybe another time as I do plan on going back every once in a while, just to see who else might show up. If I can make only one friend it would be nice.

There were a few that remembered me from the Transgender information evening a few months ago. Some even asked if the girl I was with was my girlfriend, because we were holding hands and stuff. Realizing they were talking about my daughter Lynda I had to explain that fact to them and that I am well over twice her age. Though I took it as a compliment. What woman minds people thinking you are younger than you really are?

So was it a failure? Not entirely. I did go and once again overcame one of my fears. Which is something I have been actively working on for a while now. Did I gain something out of it though? Hardly. Honestly, in that respect it was a total disaster and a complete waste of time. I’m sure for a lot of them it’s a great thing, and they enjoy being together and socialize but I myself need something different. What that is I do not know exactly yet but I am determined to find out.

After all was done and I went on my way home I had this feeling of dread come over me. I did not want to go home. I’m tired of being home all the damn time, it’s not where I want to be.

Now I’m sure you are all screaming “So go do something!” but the fact is that for one, I am poor, extremely so, and for two, the places near me that I could go out to suck immensely. They are filled with, again, not my kind of people. Third, if I went to some place out in the city it would mean having to leave at a stupidly early hour because I rely on public transport and got to catch that last bus. Sucks when most good stuff doesn’t start until 9 or 10 at night. This is where I consider moving to the city again, or at the very least get a boyfriend with a car.

The bus driver on the way home very overtly hit on me though, that felt good. When I got home though, I cried. Emotional overload. I was alone. Again. As always. I hate it!