Observations on a Birthday Princess

My partner celebrated her first birthday since her chemotherapy and battle with cancer.

It was a great long time away from our jobs on a needed vacation time for a few of those days. Her parents graciously took me along and I’m thankful for the treat. She gets what she wants for her birthday! It was her choice to take me. <3

I got to see so much new things and all through her beautiful eyes. Sonoma and Napa were so beautiful to see because it was so far from The City. The air smelled of flowers. The weather for the entire 3 days was mostly sunny with a light wind.

As we her folks were driving and taking us from here to there, we managed to get moments away from them for just ourselves: the park, a tasting room, sitting by a fountain, wandering through shops.

She’s added years to my life but also life to my years. She doesn’t look sick but she has her moments of unbearable physical pain, and a general lack of understanding from people because she “looks healthy.”

Our first conversations were about cancer as I have had a few family members and friends effected by various types of cancer and thus the dialog was as friends. I have learned so much about the rest of the world beyond my own. 

Everyday with her is something I’d call unique, and yet familiar; caring, nurturing, protective.

I’d like to mention to the invisible audience that I’d been blogging a year and have found my voice. I will be moving my product guides to a different blog.

Loves life,

Lexikat

 

It's my birthday

Reblogged from Journey Through Ovarian Cancer:

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Today is my birthday. Honestly, last year I didn't think I would see this one.

At this time last year I was just recovering from chemo. I was bald and very sickly in appearance. To show you what I mean - here is a picture taken by my good friend Tom on May 17th of last year :

Here is what I look like now :

Read more… 309 more words

Though I just received a "You've been blogging for a year" from Wordpress, This story is closest to my heart! <3

Transsexual Makeup Closet Artist

So the Transsexual makeup artist was the one I lived with while I wasn’t out. But do read on…

For about 5 years, I’d watch Her* do:
her eyes,
her cheeks,
her lips,
her hair….
(*name changed for blog)

I came out as trans a few after Her and I broke-up.

So now I have a genetic cis-woman as a partner who offers to help. Her best part of this is when she puts me in touch with professionals.
I think that’s the best thing she can do.
It keeps frustrations and confrontations to a minimum.

She’s my ally.

Putting someone in-touch with a professional who can help is a skill that few people will risk. She’s bold.

One might juxtapose the idea that: “So you will do your makeup like her now instead of Her?”
NO. I don’t watch her do her makeup. There’s no room in the goddamn bathroom.
LOL!

That pretty much sums it up, but my goal isn’t emulating or imitating her.
She does does inspire me, and that’s something I never had when I lived in the closet and stared at another person putting makeup on their face.

Perhaps one day I might inspire someone. If not, I’ll still continue to show up for my life like the first 41 years.

Its all I can do.

Lexikat

Re-inventing The Wheel

So I am 40 (something). Grumbles answer under breath

I want to be taken serious in my career and my appearance. I took all my piercings out recently except one-my “I made it to 40″ nose piercing.

The others were collected like this: “I just broke up with fill-in-a-name and I feel like a piercing to just feel better…” I could look at my body and see the trail of broken hearts, blood & entrails and destruction by merely counting the facial/ear piercings.

Accepting help from others in this goal hasn’t always been easy: My look/way of life was something I had to fight for/collect on my own. I was proud of my accomplishments in my “design.” So I was hard pressed to release control when approached by my partner about this manner. After some calming down and approaching with different method, a dialog was open for us about this sensitive subject.

My hair color has been corrected, and I am no longer blonde. After deconstructing and removing (or inhabiting my proper) gender markers, I am comfortable with pants, shorter hair, etc.

Fear.
The biggest thing that holds me and surely others back is fear. Not completely paralyzing but a direct force of influence, like drag is to flight.

Fear of flying?
Fear of dying?
Fear of dying while trying?

Who me?

Surely.

My role model? I don’t have any that come to mind that were blood relatives. The girls in the fashion magazines are like a decade (COUGH) or so younger than me. Heck, they aren’t even creative with their expression. Lesbian, queer, etc.

I had a great manager from a store I worked with that is a little younger than me. She has tattoos and a great fashion sense.

Imitate greatness?
Fake it until you make it?
Copy until you’re original?

Pretty much.

I figure all my blazers can stay. Pants can stay. Its indecent to go around without wearing any pants. HAHAHAHA!

Seriously, What kind of tops say “I’m not so flat chested but womanly?”  (Without comments/replies these become dank, dark, rhetorical questions)

I can keep a few mod/mini dresses that are above the knee. I ‘d love to find skirts for work that are just hitting the kneecap and ones just lower than mid-calf for casual wear.

Just don’t get me started on shoes! I swear my mother accidentally was impregnated by a duck based on my foot width. Sure the industrial exotic dancer shoes fit my arch, but they are hardly practical.

So (crickets chirping), What do you suggest for Ideas?

Grazie!
Lexikat

Reblogged from FEMBORG:

Eradication of a species

Leaving the Box of Blonde Behind

It’s been scheduled, my appointment for color.
Bye-Bye Blonde.

But was it ever truly mine?

I was born a poor brunette child…

I found my womanhood upon my 35th year of my natal birth. 2 years later, and after landing in The City, my first box of blonde was applied. Its results were redish-brassy. Sure, I had worked in a salon for 3 years, but that was a different life it seemed. The knowledge of the ages sometimes escapes me.

Red. Ginger-esque, Strawberry Blonde was what I called it.

Next came the services of a student in hair school. I was transformed to lavender-platinum blonde very quickly. It’s the famous shot from my Associated Press article capturing her talent. Her talent moved to apprenticeship after I helped her pass the state certification process. We fell out of communication and such.
So I went Back to the box!

So for about 3 years now, I have been very much blonde-in-waiting.
Waiting for what? Eh, who knows…

So after being blonde on the outside, I was socialized as a brunette and so I was never a true blonde, in the sense of always being the fair hair color and interacting the world in that manner.

This new decision, it seems, to be embracing my maturity. I have a partner now. Someone supporting your actions, enforcing your positive attributes, and being someone who depends on you-influence through love. She does the polish to my diamond exterior that had been marred and dulled by life.

I’ll follow-up once the task is complete.

Lexikat

You mean I’m a lesbian? Ok

(and that’s fine by all the parties involved)

So a while back, I had written a few things about the differences between the T and the LGBQ.

Today, I am reflecting.

You might say “embracing.”

So when I walk down the street proudly with my partner, the world sees a lesbian.

Embracing?

Its ok to:

• Wear less makeup
• Go without a bra
• Wear pants more often
• Stroll with your partner in Berkeley

Really, its probably not embracing being the L in the BLT of the LGBTQ queer sandwich. Its about embracing having a partner who is of equal standing and footing.

I’ll embrace her just fine in public, as she does with me.
(There appears to be a larger East Bay population of lesbians than San Francisco proper)

So world,
Don’t judge a girl by her pants wearing or her supermodel-distinct bodily features…
or by her girlfriend.

Lexikat