How this girl was assembled...
Aug. 22nd, 2006 01:22 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
jasmine-demure.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
transWhen Mother Nature received the order for one child from a couple in Brooklyn, she must have been recovering from a wild office party. I say this because only someone recovering from a drunken stupor could have made the mistakes she made. Walking through the aisles of her parts bins she grabbed all of the required male bits and pieces. Upon approaching the section where the brains were kept something went wrong. I have decided to list some of my own personal theories, but feel free to ad lib your own:
My little blue saviors...
1- Mother Nature was still drunk from the night before. When she grabbed the box she thought was labeled "Alpha Male Brain" her blurred vision actually made her grab the box labeled "A Female Brain."
2- The assembly instructions she was using were about as clear as the kind you get with those cheap-o Walmart or Target computer desks. You know the type...written by some poor half literate 10 year old in some far away southeast asian country...worked 23.5 hours a day. They always have that one section marked "Critikal Step...insert most happy bolt into adjacent, parallel widget thing-a-ma-bob or most pleasant desk will explode...see diagram J." Of course there never is a diagram J and you have about 4,567 bolts to choose from, so you just roll the dice and hope you guessed correctly. Well my friends, Mother Nature guessed wrong.
3- Mother nature forgot which symbol represented male. She probably stood before all the brains and thought...."hmmmm, is it the one with the circle and little cross on the bottom that kinda' looks like a mirror, or is it the circle with the little arrow off to the side that kinda' resembles a bow and arrow. Oh well, I like the mirror looking one better, i'll use that one...what could possibly go wrong?"
Moving right along with this tale...I am now about 13 years old. There is some voice in my little boy head that keeps telling me what a great idea it would be to raid mommy's closet for clothes...I always complied. Then one day, that little voice that I now know is my conscience short circuited. It fried like the motherboard of an over-clocked gamer's computer. Now all of a sudden that voice was telling me to stop being such a freak, be a man, what in the world is wrong with you, etc. I listened. I followed it's every instruction like a lamb being led to it's slaughter...bahhhhhh. I took a manly-man uber macho job, I loaded up on carbs, protein shakes, creatine by the shovel full and I lifted weights with the best of them. I became a 178 lb. very fit and muscular bar fight starting "man."
One glorious day, I discovered the internet. Maybe AOL was pumping some sort of coded subliminal message, because it was like someone flipped on one of those really big Dr. Frankenstein like switches. My soul, which apparently came free in the box with my female brain, finally woke up. It came to life with the fury of a rabid drag queen on free tequilla shot night. That sassy little soul proceeded to bitch slap my concience into submission. No longer was my conscience a critic...we are now all on the same team.
My new diet consisted of turkey sandwiches on whole wheat toast with a bottled water. Vitamin supplements were replaced with Estrogen and my workout routine consisted of stomach crunches and the treadmill. (who the heck wants to lift weights anyway, those damn things were heavy!) I turned the 178 lbs. of muscle into a toned 140 lbs. of smooth hairless skin. My thick jet black shortly cropped hair is now growing out. The thought of washing my hair with any shampoo that does not smell like peaches or strawberries makes me cringe. I actually use conditioner now...I even lather rinse and repeat like the bottle says! I no longer use just any soap...its sweet smelling body washes for me. My wardrobe of boys cloths has dwindled to two pairs of jeans and a limited assortment of t-shirts in a small corner on the bedroom floor. My femme attire has taken up an entire closet, bursting at the seams with shoes and dresses and low-rise jeans...oh my!
I no longer fear change, I am learning to embrace it. I am however going to keep my manly macho job...I just plan on finishing up my last few years as a woman. Will I endure comments being made about me behind my back, and possibly even snickering and laughter...yes, but who cares. There are things in place in my job that protect an individual from discrimination, besides...I will get to work as a woman and still earn a "man's" salary. As long as I can tough out the uncomfortable feelings of those first few months after my transition, I will be laughing all the way to the bank with my paycheck. I will be damned if I am going to quit and get some new crappy job just because there may be some closed minded people at my current place of employment...keep in mind, this is all speculation on my part. As a matter of fact, I will also keep some of my mucho macho hobbies I picked up during my stint as a guy...like target shooting. I want to be a girl, but who says I have to be a "conventional" girl...I gotta' be me.
2- The assembly instructions she was using were about as clear as the kind you get with those cheap-o Walmart or Target computer desks. You know the type...written by some poor half literate 10 year old in some far away southeast asian country...worked 23.5 hours a day. They always have that one section marked "Critikal Step...insert most happy bolt into adjacent, parallel widget thing-a-ma-bob or most pleasant desk will explode...see diagram J." Of course there never is a diagram J and you have about 4,567 bolts to choose from, so you just roll the dice and hope you guessed correctly. Well my friends, Mother Nature guessed wrong.
3- Mother nature forgot which symbol represented male. She probably stood before all the brains and thought...."hmmmm, is it the one with the circle and little cross on the bottom that kinda' looks like a mirror, or is it the circle with the little arrow off to the side that kinda' resembles a bow and arrow. Oh well, I like the mirror looking one better, i'll use that one...what could possibly go wrong?"
Moving right along with this tale...I am now about 13 years old. There is some voice in my little boy head that keeps telling me what a great idea it would be to raid mommy's closet for clothes...I always complied. Then one day, that little voice that I now know is my conscience short circuited. It fried like the motherboard of an over-clocked gamer's computer. Now all of a sudden that voice was telling me to stop being such a freak, be a man, what in the world is wrong with you, etc. I listened. I followed it's every instruction like a lamb being led to it's slaughter...bahhhhhh. I took a manly-man uber macho job, I loaded up on carbs, protein shakes, creatine by the shovel full and I lifted weights with the best of them. I became a 178 lb. very fit and muscular bar fight starting "man."
One glorious day, I discovered the internet. Maybe AOL was pumping some sort of coded subliminal message, because it was like someone flipped on one of those really big Dr. Frankenstein like switches. My soul, which apparently came free in the box with my female brain, finally woke up. It came to life with the fury of a rabid drag queen on free tequilla shot night. That sassy little soul proceeded to bitch slap my concience into submission. No longer was my conscience a critic...we are now all on the same team.
My new diet consisted of turkey sandwiches on whole wheat toast with a bottled water. Vitamin supplements were replaced with Estrogen and my workout routine consisted of stomach crunches and the treadmill. (who the heck wants to lift weights anyway, those damn things were heavy!) I turned the 178 lbs. of muscle into a toned 140 lbs. of smooth hairless skin. My thick jet black shortly cropped hair is now growing out. The thought of washing my hair with any shampoo that does not smell like peaches or strawberries makes me cringe. I actually use conditioner now...I even lather rinse and repeat like the bottle says! I no longer use just any soap...its sweet smelling body washes for me. My wardrobe of boys cloths has dwindled to two pairs of jeans and a limited assortment of t-shirts in a small corner on the bedroom floor. My femme attire has taken up an entire closet, bursting at the seams with shoes and dresses and low-rise jeans...oh my!
I no longer fear change, I am learning to embrace it. I am however going to keep my manly macho job...I just plan on finishing up my last few years as a woman. Will I endure comments being made about me behind my back, and possibly even snickering and laughter...yes, but who cares. There are things in place in my job that protect an individual from discrimination, besides...I will get to work as a woman and still earn a "man's" salary. As long as I can tough out the uncomfortable feelings of those first few months after my transition, I will be laughing all the way to the bank with my paycheck. I will be damned if I am going to quit and get some new crappy job just because there may be some closed minded people at my current place of employment...keep in mind, this is all speculation on my part. As a matter of fact, I will also keep some of my mucho macho hobbies I picked up during my stint as a guy...like target shooting. I want to be a girl, but who says I have to be a "conventional" girl...I gotta' be me.
