Things have gotten off to a bang already this year, with a significant escalation of the Israel-Palestine situation in Gaza, with the Israelis clamping down hard on the Gaza territory’s inhabitants, and asserting a ground and air offensive against Hamas members, who continue to lob rockets against random targets in Israel proper. OK, so we’ve been doing this shit now for 60+ years – when is it going to end? Do not the sons and daughters of Israel and Palestine equally wish for a peaceful and secure place to live and work? Are they not willing to compromise to achieve this goal? Is one inch of that blood-drenched soil worth another life taken in violence? Enough. Enough bickering, and blood-letting, enough eye-for-an-eye. You’re all making me sick, to watch you carry on like this – killing women and children, and innocents. For shame.
I’m still sleeping in the guest bedroom, BTW, if you were curious.
On the plus side, I was able to do some Goodwill shopping over the holidays, and brought home an armload of dresses, skirts, blouses and such, that I spent more than an hour trying on at our local boutique. I was poking around the ladies’ clothing rack for so long the checker thought I worked there. Once home, I measured them for a more flattering hemline (just above the knee!), and commenced to cutting, and preparing to hem them at their now more appropriate length. Wifey got a cute little bracelet from Ma and Pa that she assures me she will never wear – so when I get the chance, that baby is mine, cute cat charm and all — yayy!
Shopping while in Asheville yielded a few more cute items, including my first garter belt and back-seamed thigh highs – OMG, cute!!! I have a story to tell about my shopping trip to Asheville, that includes a big “did she/didn’t she?” – just a teaser, I’ll get to it later, promise.
One habit I’ve been luxuriating in more often these days is wearing women’s lingerie beneath my clothing, whether lacy panties underneath my business suit, or boy shorts and a camisole underneath a sweatshirt and jeans. It feels so smooth and sexy as I carry on my days activities, and I’m reminded every time I visit the facilities that I’m secretly enjoying a special day, when I permit myself the luxury. I have hidden these indulgences from my wife, as I know she would not understand or condone, or even tolerate. Hell, she thinks I’m a freak and a nutcase without her knowing that I have a secret fantasy life — like my life, but FABULOUS — that involves me tucking my private parts into too-tight foundation garments, strapping on a bra, climbing into stockings and heels, and a pretty dress, and going down to the rainbow club to hang out with people who, when they see me dressed as a sexy woman, don’t make me feel like as much of a freak as all the straight people I spend my working days with who were flabbergasted when I pierced my left ear last fall at age 41. I guess if I ever really want a divorce, I could spring all that on her, and she would be out of Dodge before sundown. Imagine her face as I come strutting downstairs in 3″ heels, stockings, short skirt, silk blouse, a stuffed bra, my blonde wig, some of her jewelry I’ve “borrowed”, made up, and all primed and ready for an evening of clubbing with the other LGBs and transgenders like myself. Not her kind of gig, for sure, but something I dream about doing again, soon(!)
Kisses – KM
Wishing you a beautiful year