Waking up in Vegas Part II

Yeah. Thats right. I am no longer dealing with Virginia City other than people I left there. I threw out all my boi clothes finally, I only have and wear women’s clothing (it’s what my ID says) and I feel marvelous.

I’m not working yet. Yet. It’s only a matter of time before everyone realizes what a great catch I am and I will be fighting off the offers (are you listening human resources ? Here I am and am available now ). SO today I bought a pass on the bus, came down to East Sahara and am at the LGBT center there. I tried to insert a link to the Las Vegas center but it didn’t take so this is it http://www.thecenterlv.com the neighborhood isn’t the greatest but the people rock. I am sitting here and there are two other transpersons sitting in here with me ! It feels marvelous.

Well, am pretty much just rambling here, wanted to let the one or two accidental readers I have know I am safe and happy.

God bless and mad love

Kynthia

Waking up in Vegas

Yes

I wake up in Sin City now. No longer in Virginia City – home of the inbred drunken professional gossip – Sin City itself. Okay, let’s be fair. First place I hit in Vegas was a Catholic Church. St Josephs Husband of Mary on Sahara Blvd.

I did not take communion because, after all, I really hadn’t time to go to confession. Which is good because when I went out Tuesday night with my posse there are things I would rather NOT confess just yet in a new church home. The double knee slide in a cocktail dress (one pair of panty hose shot to hell and a knee burn) .

Point is I am back. I havent posted anything in a long time. We will go over some of the stress anger and anxiety I went through up there but for now go to YouTube, look up Katy Perry and listen to the song “Waking up in Vegas” and think kindly of me.

I still have my ID….

Fear of Flying (Apologies to Erica Jong and second-wave feminism)

Okay, yes, I fear flight in fixed-wing plane (Of which type most commercial aircraft are as opposed to rotor-wing aircraft usually called helicopters) I hate take off, I always fear the aircraft will not clear something and we will wind up plowing into an unmovable obstacle at nearly 200MPH ground speed (what that would be in knots is beyond me – look it up if it is that important) I am not comfortable with turbulence, it scares the pants off me (not a huge difficulty for a boy who loves wearing dresses) and landing ? Okay, I cry a lot. Quietly, no public hysterics and the tears are such I blame allergies but still, it scares the hell out of me. Helicopters do not have that effect on me. They can fly through blinding snowstorms with the warning Klaxons singing the whole time and I am good. I trust rotor-wings.

So why bring it up ? Okay, I am booking a flight, from Reno to Las Vegas. Come April 17th I am flying down to the “What goes on here stays here” city for Diva Las Vegas. Las Vegas. The Sin City itself. Diva Las Vegas is not a conference. At conferences you have to do stuff, attend lectures, go to panels blah blah blah. Nope, DLV is a vacation. It is CD/TG/TS and their admirers/family/friends/So’s meeting in Vegas for fun and Galiano (sic) you have to go to the website to see what that is about.

There is a series of events planned, some unplanned, so folks can get out, play the tourist and just enjoy themselves. At first, it sounded like a good idea, then, as the date gets closer it seems like an almost mandatory idea. I mean, After all that has gone down (I write more about the positive than I do the negative, trust me on this. When it gets too negative I don’t feel like writing so you don’t get the full story) I could really use a break. My sister Chrissy (A beautiful Tgirl, and one of my staunchest friends) has invited me to stay with her so essentially I come up with airfare (99.00 Southwest Air round-trip) a Valium (two, one down and one back) and make sure my Visa has enough room to party.

I am finally going to take a vacation. I do not remember when I last did. Seriously. I don’t take vacations. Even when I was in the Army on leave. Sure, made a trip back home for Xmas or other holidays, but beyond that, no vacations. No going somewhere just for me and now, I have somewhere and somewhen to be. And to top it off, this is Kynthia’s BIG year. The year SHE has had control,the year SHE is the one in the forefront. What a way to celebrate. Oh sure, I wont have my laser done by then, I wont probably get my hormones by then but screw it. This aint a beauty pageant, there are no competitions, it is just plain fun !

And Chrissy and I get to talk with each other without relying on messaging or email.

This WILL be a vacation.

Hugs

Kynthia

TSA and going through the gate en femme. A airport story

July 7th 2009

Okay, my little boy, aged ten years, traveled back home from Las Vegas to TN. This meant I had to escort him to the gate and have an agent take over custody of him until he arrives at his destination and his mother (upon presentation of proper state or federal issued ID) takes him home. I got to Las Vegas early, got a shower, fixed my hair and realized “I have no boy clothing” Oh CRUD ! I have to go through the gate, be searched (usually by x-ray, only my bag) etc like I was going to be flying but because I will be in the passenger area, I have to go through all that screening. All I have is girl clothes (pretty ones, but girl clothes none the less) so this means, quite like the character in To Wong Fu, My clothing says “Fabulous” my ID says “Drabulous” Yes, I look like a girl but my ID is all boy.

The horror stories I have heard about other TG/TS/CD in airport searches is going through my mind. I am starting to scare myself with the thoughts of an extensive search (please come with me, SIR, you know whats going to happen) outrageous rude questions, waiting to be asked what I am hiding in my bra and having to show them my very small developing breasts or trying to explain WHY I am wearing two pairs of panties, one fairly normal enough looking and the other resembling a gothic torture device and trying to explain why I am binding my testes and penis in a very tight pair of panties. By the time I drive up to McCarren Airport I am shaking. I am trying very hard to keep my prettiest smile and happiest demeanor about me (I am a wonderful actress, if I say so myself, BTW) and we go to the southwest baggage check in.

My son and I are immediatly escorted to the front of the line. We are then taken in side to the ticket counter, where again we pass probably 200 people standing in line for thier tickets and my son’s ticket is issued instantly. I then ask if I may speak to a TSA supervisor. I want to see if there is going to be a problem with my ID not matching my look. Well… Long story short. I go to the gate, I take off my boots, place my purse and boots in the bucket and send it downline through the Xray. The agent looks at my ID, looks at my face and I ask “Any problems sir” ? He smiles, says “none at all Mrs Rilea (wearing my wedding band) and waves me through. Every once in a while, Someone, somewhere, in great power smiles down and says “No problems for you today, it’s going to hurt bad enough when your boy flies off, I’m going to give you this one”. That may or may not be what happened, But for my part, I like to think of it that way.

No greater enemy than our own fears, huh ?

Love

Sindee.