Yes, it’s been a while since I updated this blog. Health issues and some very bad head space combined to put the muse in a state of slumber.

I spent last weekend in Atlanta at the SouthEast Leatherfest. It’s a leather/fetish/BDSM convention.

Did I forget to mention I am interested in these things? Oh, sorry…

Pervy folk are like any other social group, except we tell stranger jokes and dress better. And speaking of dressing, SELF was an excuse for me to enjoy some extended girl time. I had not been about to do that for a while.

Spending a weekend as a woman means:

  • Lots of shaving. And it takes a lot of time to shave this bod. Plus, shaving my face twice a day, since I have not started any serious hair removal techniques.
  • Going from worrying about getting my makeup perfect to trying to get it done quickly. Practice may not make perfect, but it makes it quicker.
  • Shopping is an art form, and having a friend like Sabrina Pandora who has a black belt in it and knows Little Five Points like a native. And I found the best pair of riding boots, ever. For $25. You may be jealous now…
  • Falling into all the little feminine ways, like walking and remembering to take your ear ring off when you answer the phone.
  • Getting your nails polished, hating the job the salon did, realizing that nobody else noticed the bad polish job.
  • You get far more wardrobe options. And changing close twice a day is not a sign of vanity.

Atlanta is a very cosmopolitan city. I’ve been there many times for Southern Comfort, and had very few problems as a woman on the town. Nobody really notices, or says anything. I do not feel like I am “passable,” but I do feel I am acceptable. I am comfortable with myself, and feel very positive about going out anywhere. And this seems to help people accept me.

The people at SELF treated me like a woman. I got to spend lots of time with friends, make new ones, buy stuff, learn things, and even let the wicked side of me out for a few. By Sunday afternoon, eating hot dogs on a patio and feeling comfortable enough to wear a tank top and short cammo skirt in the summer, I just found myself wishing it would last longer. Because I was really, truly feeling like the person I think Zelda is.

Flying home the next day, I felt the sense of loss that post-convention time seems to bring. And wanting to capture the feeling again.

le sigh