Just saw Scotty's blog posting on dressing up as Lolita. I hope he finds the bits and pieces of outfit he needs to pull it off, and I'll be looking forward to pictures.

Let me turn the topic now to... me, because like a lot of people I either like talking about me, or am so completely insecure that I need to, always with the hope that people will somehow offer me some support and acceptance, and if not love, then at least "like." Self-esteem... some day I should get me some.

I've had an interesting week, one that reinforced the idea that I may have inched out of the closet enough that I'm not really in it anymore. While, yes, I'm still discreet, and have a strong notion that it's important for me to be safe at home, so need to keep my neighbors in the dark, and that there are immediate members of my family who I don't feel (correctly or otherwise) can handle it and don't want to challenge/upset them, elsewhere I seem to be out. My wife, my entire very welcoming and open church, one friend, one relative, and a large number of strangers from carefully selected venues.

I think I've mentioned the church (or more accurately, "Meeting") before. It's a Religious Society of Friends (a.k.a. "Quaker") meeting of the "unprogrammed" tradition. Unprogrammed means, in part, that there's no pastor or other hired presiding leader(s). The place functions by committee. And despite every committee joke you've ever heard, somehow Quaker committees are different, and the place actually does function. There are books and studies written on the phenomenon. But, I digress.

So, Monday I met with a man who is currently serving as the person who presides over our monthly business meetings, the ones where we make all the decisions about relevant business, members, committees, the premises, activities, etc. He's going away for a few months and needs people to take over a few of his regular duties. I volunteered/got tapped for one of the peripheral tasks and we met on site so he could spend a little time familiarizing me with it and handing over the baton. Afterwards, we went out for coffee, a bit of a get-to know-each-other social thing. He's a wonderfully pleasant person. I hope he thinks as well of me. Anyway, the point, I'm not getting to the point, am I? The point is that during our conversation, he raised the issue of my crossdressing, just in passing, and in an off-the-cuff way that proved to me it wasn't an issue at all.

I keep asking myself, "Sure, they put out an effort to follow their beliefs in equality and acceptance, but what do they really believe?" Well, I'm starting to see that my fears have been overblown, and my shame completely unwarranted and that there are people in this world who believe you are who you are because that's the way you're supposed to be, the way God made you, so to speak. Anyway, the good Friend made my heart soar with this simple mention and kindly smile.

Wednesday, I went to a little social held by a small company of party promoters who are planning a massive New Year's Eve event in a huge rented industrial space. About 100 people were there, artists who will be doing installations for the event, volunteers, applicants for a few paying jobs, staff organizers, and a few others like me (although I might end up being a volunteer). I guess I should tell you that the theme of the party has something to do with Airlines, and the space is being designated/decorated as an idealized airline terminal for the party. So, there I was, with a glass of wine punch in my hand, and up came the volunteer coordinator who must have been curious about the unfamiliar face attached to the ponytail, and who wanted to know if I had an art project or how I might be otherwise interested in being involved. After a little chit-chat, I confided that I was a crossdresser and wondered if it would be cool if I came dressed as a stewardess. She positively lit up the room with her smile! To say she was encouraging would be an understatement. I ended up showing her some wallet photos, which she fawned over, and she gave me some ideas about putting together an outfit and what sort of look to go for. Wow! That's all I can say. Oh, and we shared a hug and an air kiss.

I'm still on a high.

So, yesterday I was at my dermatologist. I've got a few dry flaky spots on my face which he loves to call "pre-cancers" to scare the crap out of you. Anyway, he prescribed a course of this creme that fries the things off your face. It takes two or three weeks, and then another couple of weeks for the blotchy pizza look to fade away. (I did this once before a couple years ago.) So, I told him I was going to a New Year's Eve costume party, and asked him if I could wear makeup. Would I have asked him this a couple years ago? I don't think so. No, definitely not. Even though I didn't actually tell him I was a crossdresser, and didn't describe the costume, I would have been terrified that he'd have just known. Today, for me, it's gradually turning into a non-issue. Oh, he said sure. I asked him if Dermablend would cover it, and he said it would. He wrote and handed me the prescription, and added, "You can pick up the Dermablend at the same time." I didn't tell him I already had some.

A good week. Definitely.