365 days Sunday, Jan 1 2012 

2011 was better than 2010, but that’s not saying a lot. The bad stuff:

  • I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism and depression
  • My back is getting progressively worse
  • Spent far too much money on car repairs
  • My mother had health and financial issues that required me dropping everything and going to take care of her
  • My stepson has dropped out of college, and has shown little desire to go back
  • My wife has had her own health issues-physical and mental
  • I wanted to walk away from something I’d created and cared for because I didn’t think anyone cared but me
  • And I’m still out of work
The good stuff:
  • I have friends, some of whom went well out of their way to help me when I was at a very low point in my life. They know who they are, and I will never be able to let them know how truly much what they did meant to me
  • I can’t count how many people told me they would have missed me if I hadn’t been to Southern Comfort this year. It meant a lot to know that.
  • My family is doing better-mom’s better, my wife is losing weight and feels healthier than she has in years, and my stepson is slowly realizing that school is better than real life
  • My wife got to take her first real vacation since we moved to Dallas five years ago
  • We are not saddled with huge amounts of debit 
  • My family loves me and accepts me for who I am
So it’s not really that bad, is it? I’m actually looking forward to 2012. I have hope, and love, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?
A happy new year to you all,
Zelda Rose

Just saying, you know? Friday, Mar 21 2008 

I use Yahoo Messenger for my IM’s, mostly because the vast majority of people I know use it too. And while it’s not perfect, it does work. I’ve also gotten a pretty large “friends” list, too. Most of the people I talk to online are really friends; people who I like and who I have either met in person or hope to someday.

And there’s a few who I won’t, and wonder why I ever “friended” them. They are Tgirls, who I thought were interesting or who contacted me. But after a while, I have realized their needs and mine are not the same.

See, I’m not a whore. Or a madam. My home isn’t a brothel. I am not a dating service, or a tour guide. I don’t do charity work for wayward trannies.

So why is it that people want me to:

* Have sex with them, even when they know I’m married.
* Want me to find them someone who’ll have sex with them.
* Want to come to my house so I can “entertain” them because they can’t in their own home.
* Want me to invite them to come to Dallas and spend time showing them around and “partying.”
* Want me to show them how to shop, dress, do makeup, behave, for nothing more than their gratitude.


What reason should I have to break up my relationship for you? Why should I find you a sex partner? Why should I bring a stranger to my home because they’re not out to their own spouse? Why should I spend days entertaining you? Why should I teach you when you’re not willing to do the work first?

Because we’re “sisters?” Honey, we didn’t come out of the same womb. Because I somehow owe you? No, I don’t. I owe a debt to those who have helped me-for no other reason than they wanted to. They didn’t ask for anything in return. And I’ve helped trannys who asked but didn’t grab onto me like a leech when I said “Now you do it.”

I’m finding that I am becoming such a cynic.

Oh, there IS a caveat. There are people out there who I’d do anything for. Who I regard as friends, who I care about, and who have shown me kindness through the years. They know me, my life, and would NEVER ask something that I couldn’t do. Those people always have an open invitation to my home, and I’d happily play tour guide because I enjoy their company. And I bet those people know who they are, too.

True friends have my heart. The leeches get my stompy boot.

Monica Sunday, Feb 17 2008 

Although I’ve known about Monica Greene, owner of Monica’s aca y alla in Dallas being a transperson, I’ve never really heard her story. I found a link to an article in the Dallas Observer from 2003, ten years after her surgery.

It’s a very good piece, but it also points out how accepted Monica is. She was a successful restaurant owner who had serious doubts about staying in Dallas and transitioning, yet managed to do so and making her business successful. She did not hide her transsexuality; at times she used it in her advertising to make a point about change.

It also says something about Dallas. I’d never have thought when I moved here that you could be openly trans and successful. But Dallas does seem to have its surprises…

Today, Monica’s is still a very successful restaurant, and she even placed second in 2005’s city council race. And still happy with her choices.

How to Kill A Transperson Friday, Feb 15 2008 

From the Gay Alliance of the Genesse Valley’s newsletter:

February 15th, 2008

By Ceridwen Troy
This article was written on Friday, Feb. 15, 2008.

On Saturday, Sanesha Stewart, a transwoman of color living in the Bronx, was murdered in her own apartment. She was 25 years old. Her accused killer, Steve McMillan, had known her for months, yet when he was arrested, he claimed to have been enraged to find out that she was what the media coverage called not really a woman. He stabbed her over and over again in the chest and throat. She tried to fight him off; there were defensive wounds found on her hands.

On Tuesday, eighth-grader Lawrence King was in a classroom in Oxnard, Calif. He was openly gay, and often came to school in gender-bending clothing, makeup, jewelry and shoes. According to another student, it was freaking the guys out. One of them shot Lawrence in the head. He was declared brain-dead on Wednesday.

It is easy to look at cases like this and think, how tragic. How random. How senseless.

But then, you forget how easy it is to kill a transgender person.

You forget that all across this nation, faith leaders of all stripes, men and women who claim to speak for God Himself, call us sinners, call us abominations, call us evil.

You forget that at best the media depicts us as something to be pitied, something that our families must be strong and overcome. At worst, they depict us as abnormal, exploiting our bodies for ratings, exploiting the publics fear of us for shock value.

You forget that on a good day, law enforcement agents are neglectful of us, and that far more frequently they join in our harassment. You forget the transwomen of color who are rounded up on suspicions of prostitution. You forget the beatings that go uninvestigated. You forget the molestation and rape we face when we are arrested.

You forget the medical establishment that drains our wallets for the therapy and hormones and surgeries they tell us we need. You forget the way we are then refused treatment when we are dying, dying of treatable diseases, dying of easily patched wounds.

You forget that, by the law of the land, it is legal in the majority of states to deny us employment, to deny us service, to deny us housing.

You forget the shelters and the rape crisis centers that will not allow us through their doors.

You forget that many of us do not even have family to turn to when we are at our most desperate.

You forget that the leaders of our own community have told us that it is not time for us to have rights, that it is not pragmatic for us to be considered worthy of the same respect as other human beings.

You forget that in our own circles, it is considered a negative thing to be too flamboyant. You forget the way our pride parades have been derided by our own community. You forget the scorn heaped upon drag queens by other gay men. You forget the fear to be seen in public with a friend who is considered too open, too queer.

You forget the way it seeps into the minds of transgender people, too. You forget the way a transsexual will shout that she is not a crossdresser, as if there were something wrong with that. You forget the catty names we call each other if we don’t pass”

You forget how many of us take our own lives every year.

You forget because the noise is always there, a constant drone in the background. Every newspaper piece that calls a transwoman he instead of she. Every talk show host who spends an hour talking about our genitals. Every childish taunt about looking like a tranny. Every transperson who talks about themselves as true transsexuals. Every activist and politician who tells us now is not the time.

You forget too, how easy it is to kill a person of color, with myths about gangstas and lies about immigrants. You forget how easy it is to kill a person living in poverty, cutting off her welfare because she is suuposedly being paid to breed. You forget how easy it is to kill a sex worker, with sex-shaming language, slinging about slurs like hooker and whore.

You forget the message hidden inside every single one of those statements.

You are less than I am. You are not worthy of the rights and respect that I am worthy of.

You are not human.

It is very easy to kill something that you do not see as human.

It is very easy to kill a transperson.

Connections Tuesday, Nov 6 2007 

My friend Jenny posted this excerpt from her friend’s Flickr profile:

I think that it is extremely important that we all, as representatives of the transgender community, present ourselves publicly with intelligence, dignity, empathy, beauty, grace & class., (and a bit of humor never hurts!)
What you do behind closed doors is all up to you, but pride in ourselves and our sisters I should think would be how you would like others to see you… ;))) Presentations which degrade the female being are reflections of thought patterning which sees GG’s as something to objectify.. it’s wrong in my book and it offends my inner female…If you truly are TG then you respect your inner true self and your sisters. Period. It’s true that it’s almost impossible for most of us to fool anyone, BUT if you can present yourselves with pride and confidence… it does, believe me, open many doors and minds…. and you will be able to step out into the world with confidence… ;D

I agree with some of her opinions. Like it or not, we are representatives of the “transgender community” every time we are out in public. I think it’s more important to present yourself as a person, not a stereotype. What is intelligent, dignified, beautiful, graceful and classy is up to the individual. I know that the way I present myself may not the same way some others would, but I try to be someone who is not going to embarrass herself.

No, I don’t think wearing a micro mini, your tightest spandex top, stockings with garters peeking out from under the skirt and five inch stilettos is the best thing to wear to Wal-Mart. But I also don’t think you have to wear a tshirt, jeans, and flip-flops* either. There are other choices, you know?

I’d like to hear your opinions…

*The outfits that the majority of the GG’s who shop at my local Wal-Mart seem to chose…

I got an excuse from my mom… Saturday, Jul 28 2007 

I have not posted anything here recently. My job has been incredibly hectic and time-consuming, and having a nice bout of depression has not helped. When I am depressed, I do not feel like writing, which is counter to what others do. I know, I have to be different…

But now that I am getting closer to returning to a normal schedule at work, I will start working on my blogging again. And I have to start getting things sorted out for Southern Comfort as well. I took care of booking a room a long time ago, and by waiting got a much cheaper flight this week (on AirTran, and yes I see the irony there). Atlanta is one of my favorite cities, and some of my favorite people live there.

Thanks to everyone who has commented to my posts; I think a viewer mail post is in the future :)