Greener on the Other Side
(this is a Working Girl blog)

There are so many things wrong in this world, and recently, there have been many that have gone wrong with the world that have personally touched me. I won't delve into the specifics of what these are - I don't want to wallow in them, as tempting as that may be (I'm tryin' to be a tough girl, heehee). But truth of the matter is - I'm over most of them, and, right now, there is little that is wrong - at least nothing majorly wrong, that is - in my life. Just the usual day-to-day minutiae of life. For now, that is.

Why, you may ask, am I posting this now, and in here, of all places - a blog of no consequence or relevance, except to me, perhaps? Well, let me tell you, my dear.

More than half a decade ago, I had despaired of having any kind of normal life, and the petty problems that I have now, I would dearly have loved to have back then, if only...

I see some of the posts in the site, and I cannot help but identify with those who have posted them. All I can really offer them is my commiseration, my sympathy. But I have been there, and, though it seems impossible to you now, there IS a way out. Though it's not reachable to some right now, at least there is comfort to know that the possibility, the hope, the light at the end of the tunnel, is there. Many will say their personal circumstances or finances are enough to make it hard for them. At least it's not impossible - as my therapist keeps on saying, it is not just a dream because it is within the realm of the do-able, and therefore it is worth it to pursue.

I am now in a part of my life where I am building my new world based on a me that wasn't the me that was conceived: the physical me as aligned to the true me as close as present medical science can make it. It has been a long five years, and the journey isn't over. I still feel that I am not real, a fake contrived to look normal but isn't. My therapist says that half of those whom she has worked with that transitioned like me have felt the same, and of these, about one fifth is not successful. I pray that I will not be one of these unfortunate ones (Such an irony, isn't it? My religion has denied me this, yet I pray...)

It is a daily struggle. And there have been many moments where my doubt nearly overwhelms me, and I find it hopeless. But like a recovering alcoholic stubbornly sticking to her program, I persevere and struggle on, and eventually it passes. Once I asked my therapist, does it have to be this way? It is such a drab and colorless life, having to power through such moments, and when one gets passed them, there is no magical moment when everything is fixed.

She asked me, haven't these moments been coming more and more infrequently? And, in all honesty, I had to say yes. She said that when such moments come so infrequently that they are like the proverbial "blue moon" (you know - "once in a blue moon?" etc. etc.), then I will have reached my goal - of being just a normal girl. So, even now, I have a goal, and I live for that time when the papier mache me is finally put to rest.

I am thankful that I discovered BCTS, and though many of those who have transitioned like me do not like to be part of such communities (my therapist says they'd rather forget their own papier mache years for they are too painful), I guess I am still not yet fully past the turn in the road, so that's why I am still here. I am actually scared that if I come to that goal-of-goals, I myself might visit BCTS less and less. I hope not.

It isn't all sweetness-and-light, being in BCTS. There have been a few times (some of them real doozies), where some well-meaning souls have (whether deliberately or inadvertently or even callously) made me face my papier mache past, and there was at least one time where I was really... thrown for a loop.

But it doesn't help to hide from such things; 'cause you're gonna have to face them eventually. But that's what hospitals and medicine and doctors and therapists are for, right?

I am therefore thankful for such moments because, like a boxer-in-training encountering a fist in the face, they help to teach me, so that I learn how to face the upcoming title fight called life.

I guess what I'm saying is that the grass isn't always greener on the other side. It's plenty green right here, DESPITE the occasional life lesson that well-meaning people teach. I just haven’t been noticing the green lately. I think we all have to make an effort to from now on.

Smile, dearie. Stiff upper lip and such. It'll get better. The grass is plenty green right here.

Anyone wanna help me mow the lawn? Heehee...

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Staying up all night: boy, am I tired! (this is a Working Girl blog)

Last week, my doctor decided to change the prescription for my daily meds. No big deal, really. My new meds are exactly like the old ones. In fact, the only reason he changed it was because the new kind is cheaper. (My doc's a nice guy. :)

Anyway, last Friday, I got the new prescription filled. Thing was, the new pills came in milligrams double my old ones. So the doc said to be sure to split them and just take half. (I'm sure some of you who take meds regularly have had to do that sometimes). And yesterday morning, my old pills ran out so I took one of my new ones. However, I forgot to split the pill...

Anyway, later, during lunch, one of the analysts, a nice girl from Thailand who seemed to have taken a shine to me, shared a bit of her lunch. It was a wonderful Thai green curry chicken dish, with peppers, coconut milk and bits of lemongrass, and I had a couple of big spoonfuls. But either the coconut milk or the spices (or both) got to me, and I had to go to the bathroom.

When I got home later that night, I had to go to the bathroom a couple more times again. Aside from that, I had a headache and a somewhat metallic taste in my mouth. I called up the doctor and, from his questions, I realized the booboo I made with my pill.

He said that it could actually just be the curry, OR it could be the pill, but it was just my maintenance hormone medication so he wasn't that worried. Still, to be sure, just to be on the safe side, he asked me (if I could) to not go to sleep right away. And to drink a lot of fluids (goin to the bathroom too many times can dehydrate).

Anyway, I told one of the BCTS chatroom gals, so she kept me company via the chatroom and helped keep me awake. I therefore had someone to chat with via my computer up to around 2:30AM. Thanks to her, I was able to keep awake.

Thanks, Pip. Really appreciate it.

My only problem this morning is to not fall asleep on my keyboard. My boss wouldn't like that...

Now, I gotta stop all this blogging foolishness and get back to work. But, first, better get me a cup of coffee.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Alien: Just feeling a little sad and blue (this is a Working Girl blog)

I can't sleep. And I'm feeling blue tonight, perhaps appropriate for a... Well, I don't really know my status is now, given my current... situation. Our parish priest back home hasn't said, one way or another. I'd like to think he did that for me, but I don't really know.

Anyway, today was the day when Christians commemorate the Last Supper, and the eve of Jesus' death, if you observe those kinds of things. So, perhaps, it IS appropriate to feel blue.

I'm in my old blue sweater, about to go to bed, sharing a hotel room with some friends and, no, they're only friends, 'kay? We just got a bit tired and decided to check in, have a bite and rest up instead of going home straight away.

We went to church this afternoon and, after that, went on a little road trip and visited seven churches for prayer and reflection. I'll spare you the details and just say it's a Catholic thing - a solemn and somber catholic tradition, full of prayer and introspection. But that's not really why I'm blue, I think.

When I was younger, our little family - my mom n dad, and my sister n me - we'd do this church thing together. Didn't like it at the time, and always tried to look for any reason to get out of it. Some of the more traditional among us know about such things: doesn't have to be a catholic thing - it could be something as simple as being dragged to nonna's for Christmas lunch or attending a funeral.

But now, I miss it. 'Coz it was a time for family. Nowadays, I don't get that feeling much anymore.

No doubt my folks did the usual Church thing this year. And though they haven't said that I wasn't welcome, I didn't go with them. Didn't even try and find out if they were gonna go church-visiting today. Hence my own road trip with my friends.

Many here lost their families and friends when they transitioned. Or were lost to them - guess it comes out to much the same thing whichever side you're looking from. I didn't necessarily lose my family. God bless 'em, they tried to understand. But unless you're one, how can you know? And given where and what generation that my mom and dad came from, it's understandable. Male and female roles are well defined, at least according to them. And it takes a pretty forward-thinking person to understand.

And when I came to them all changed - well, let's just say it took a good long while for me to be able to come visit. It was like I was an alien to them. But then again, haven't I always been like an alien? Even our doggie took a while to come back to me. (I had to wonder, did my scent change, too?)

It is my biggest fear that they're just tolerating me. But I never believed that I ever lost their love. Still, I don't want to test that love. I've seen and heard how they looked at me, or talked about me, when they thought I wasn't paying attention, or was out of earshot. (It was only after transition that I heard the phrase, "he's YOUR son" spoken by either of them.)

But I've also heard them say, also when they thought I was out of earshot, "I don't care. I still love him," and the other responding, "You mean her." And then they share a sad little chuckle.

I don't ever want to test them, not ever, and risk losing them, so that I'll still be able to come home. And, besides, I have to respect their views regardless. A very Italian sentiment, I think. My nonna would be proud...

One of my newer favorite TV shows is called "Being Erica" (currently on hiatus, though, too bad), and I won't go into what the show is about. But the reason I mentioned it was, in the final episode, one of the penultimate scenes was when Erica's friend Kai overcomes his demons, and sings his wonderful song called "Alien Like You."

Words from that song echo in my mind:

"It’s hard to believe in - that home must be millions and millions of light years away... Aren't you tired of running from what you're becoming. The truth is it's useless: there's nowhere to go - it's not going to find you... Lift your eyes and let me in 'coz, baby, I'm an alien like you. Will you ever let me be alien with you?"

The song, it was like it was putting words and music to my heart. Home does feel like it's millions of light years away.

Eating: My favorite pastime, or "Does this make me look fat?" (this is a Working Girl blog)

I didn't go with the girls in the office for lunch this afternoon. I begged off and made do with my favorite senbei rice crackers and a nice cup of tea in my little office.

No worries, though. Nothing amiss. In fact, when I checked yesterday, I was within my target ideal weight for my height n build (Yayyy!). Which got me thinking now about diet n stuff.

Prior to starting transition, I had to get checked out, and among the things they had to check was my weight. So I had to go through a diet and exercise regimen before being allowed. Anyway, I was able to hit it, and was able to go on. But that's not what I wanted to talk about.

In calculating my ideal weight at that time, my doctor was using a standard weight chart for men. And I got to thinking... One of the things I asked my therapist afterwards was that, if I wanted to check my weight, what weight table should I use? Seems this question was one she hadn't fielded yet, so she answered my question at our next session, after she'd asked my doctor and done some research on it.

What she told me was that the current tables, either the men's or the women's charts, were ok as both tables were within the BMI ranges. So I've decided to use the weight charts for women. Heehee. That was more than four years ago, and I haven't given it further thought, and have been relying on the standard charts for girls. A friend of mine here at BCTS recently asked me what my BMI was, but I couldn't answer her, as I don't even know how to compute for it.

But, anyways, I am now within my ideal weight range. Yayyy! So I gotta watch my weight from now on. Talk about being a cliché girl, huh? At least I've resisted asking people if my clothes make me look fat. So far...

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Wearing a suit to my first meeting, or "I'm so nervous, I'm about to hurl" (this is a Working Girl blog)

Some probably know I resigned from my last job just before Christmas last year. And there were lots of reasons why. Truth was, it was an ill-timed decision, but I just couldn’t stand it there anymore. Too much work, not being given credit for most of it, no respect from your coworkers. All too cliché, I think.

But I was fortunate enough that I was able to start at my new job almost immediately after I resigned. Not at the same position, but about the same salary package less some perks (no car plan, so I’m back to making do with my little seven-year-old car). And the only people I had to tell about me and my gender status were the HR and the HMO people (and they’re actually subcontracted third-party providers, at that). I guess my new boss knows but she hasn’t brought it up, even during my interview, and I don’t feel she’s treating me any differently than others. I think she’s a pretty cool person, actually.

Looking back at my old situation, I guess I didn’t really set myself up for success. Most of my life, I’ve been an easy person to overlook. And I haven’t really made an effort to stand up for myself or to express my authority properly at my job. So I get into situations where some of my staff don’t come in for meetings I call or pay attention, or where my boss openly criticizes me for mistakes in front of others but expects me to not bring up his. After not getting a bonus package I was entitled (I was able to close a project under budget and deadline) for the nth time, I quit. But I am not that naíve to think that I was not partly to blame for how it was.

So in this new job, I’m trying to be more aware, and I have been trying to consciously prevent this. I’ve tried to be more forthright with my opinions, and be more confident in my behavior (and this is not easy for me), including in the outside aspects of things (like the way I dress).

Most IT companies and consulting shops were first in adopting the dress code that the dot-com era made fashionable, and I was not very different from most of my coworkers, preferring to be dressed down in the office. But my friend Nikki said that this works to my disadvantage as this doesn’t really help reinforce my position of authority. I think most born-girls would probably know this instinctively. But, for me, I needed some advice.

Seems everyday is a series of never-ending life lessons.

So, in my new job, I’ve tried to dress to express my authority. Can you believe I’ve actually bought some books on how to dress in the office? Also, I’ve started to wear suits to the office at least once a week. And in the three months I’ve been working at my new job, so far so good. (In fact many of the girls in my department have started wearing more dressy outfits. I’d like to think I had a hand in that.)

Last week, my company just got signed up to do a project (not a big one, but pretty substantial), and my group’s been selected to manage it. So I called my first staff meeting for 10AM today.

I’m going to be wearing my favorite charcoal suit to the meeting, with a plain white blouse, simple chain and fitted slacks, trying to look the part of the clean-cut cliché corporate lady-boss (no tie or anything like that, of course - too Diane Keaton-ish, I think). But I’m so nervous I feel faint, and feel like I’m about to hurl. Hope I don’t trip and fall in my heels. Hooo boy…

Never thought I’d have to worry about life problems like this. I guess, deep within myself, I thought that after transitioning, problems like these would solve themselves, or at least make them easier to manage.

‘Kay. Logging off and leaving for work now. I’m running super-late. Wish me luck.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Got through my first meeting, or "I'm the boss, so stop sassing me" (this is a Working Girl blog)

What a long day. I'm totally drained. Most everyone's gone already, but I'm hanging around for a bit, writing this blog and winding down. Nerves I suspect.

Well, my first meeting in my new company went better than I expected, or feared.

The project we were discussing was an extremely simple one, technically speaking - basically setting up a forms-driven workflow system and knowledgebase for our client's customer management reps. The consensus was that it may necessitate setting up a Lotus Notes/Domino database though someone said we might just need to set up a Sharepoint-based archive and q&a database.

But enough tech-speak.

As I said, the meeting went better than I expected. The girls were all cooperative and were gung ho over the project, as well as most of the guys. (Although some of the guys weren't really into the meeting, I can tell.)

Some of them were obviously being a bit subordinate, especially one of the guys that were, by reputation, one of the better business analysts. When he said he couldn't answer the question of one of the other guys, one of the girls said something like, "oh, please." To which he reacted to by saying that it's in his laptop in his cubicle.

After a short silence, I said that he is excused to go get his computer. I would normally not have the guts to say something like that, but I came prepared: This is pathetic, I know, but on my way to the office, I was practicing saying things like that in my car's rearview.

While he was getting his computer, to fill the silence, I complimented one of the girls for her cute outfit (a purplish long-sleeved henley over a nice flowery peasant skirt). The girl smiled shyly at me, and some of the guys complimented her as well. Anyway, some conversation got started about summer clothes, and how the weather had improved a lot, and about the upcoming summer months. I also mentioned to the girls, in passing, that I may need new clothes as I just hit my ideal weight range. One of the guys made a joke (good-naturedly, though) about too much girl-talk, and one of the girls gave him a raspberry.

Little did anyone know that I was so very nervous, especially when the guy came back. But the guy was a lot less disagreeable, and it was actually he who suggested Sharepoint might be sufficient for the work needed. From that point on, the meeting proceeded well enough. In fact, the other guys who were also being disagreeable were more respectful and had started calling me "Ma'am."

Anyway, we had a couple of hours of preliminary planning discussions and stuff, and split the sixteen people in the room into groups. I let them group themselves into two groups of girls and one group of guys (the remaining people made up the fourth group - which was me and three other guys). I put Mr. Personality as the team lead of the all-guy group.

I ended the little informal meeting with some trite line about how we need to work together. I said this while standing in front of that guy, trying to make a point that was so obvious no one could miss it. It seemed to work, though I wasn't sure how much authority I was projecting given how short I am (though to be fair, I had worn heels).

Anyway, after the meeting, I went to my computer in my office first to check my email (and let the girls finish up in the bathroom so I can go alone - boy, did I need a break after that pressure-laden meeting), and then invited everyone to Basil's for a pizza lunch on me (making sure to text my boss first, of course. She texted back okay, and that she wouldn't mind if we had a long lunch.).

We had a pleasant meal full of office gossip and IT-type shoptalk. One of the guys in my team remembered my chocoholic-ness and he ordered a mug of chocolate for me. It was actually either Ovaltine or Milo, but who cares - it was enough of a novelty that I was actually flattered.

One of the girls invited me to join them tomorrow afternoon to window-shop. I wanted to take them up on it but I'm still debating this with myself up to now - before today, my position as their boss wasn't so obvious. But familiarity breeds contempt, as they say. Should I risk it? Or am I over-thinking things again? It shouldn't be a big deal!

But shopping with friendly girlfriends was one of things I dreamed of before, after all, plus it's awkward to go out with my old office-friends from my previous job now. Besides, I think I need some new clothes: I think my clothes are a little tight on me now (Although, to be honest, I think I'm just inventing reasons. I had gained some much-needed pounds these past few days. I think I need to ease off on the chocolate otherwise I'm gonna overshoot my target weight.)

Wish I didn't over-think things too much, and quit being too overdramatic.

So... all in all, so far so good in the office. Mr. Personality actually passed by my office before going home, just to apologize about his attitude during the meeting.

Anyway, best to stop all this blogging foolishness and go home. Nite-nite, everyone.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Jogging for the first time in five years (this is a Working Girl blog)

I took the advice of some of the people who wrote comments in my previous blog, and decided not to take up my office-mates' offer to shop today. I really wanted to - reeaaally wanted to, but I think they're right and it's the smarter thing to do, even though it makes me a bit sad.

So. Instead, I decided to go out for a jog at seven this morning. I haven't done any serious exercising for five years, since before transition, actually (though I'm not exactly a sporty girl, I did bike for fun a lot before), but I thought I'd start exercising this morning and burn up some of this leftover adrenalin from yesterday.

And, yes, yes, it's ok with my doc (in fact, he's the one who's been bugging me to start), but only if I've been keeping up on my iron pills, which I have, and to stop working out the minute I start feeling faint or something.

So, I threw on an old t-shirt, sportsbra, shorts, some bobbysocks, and my old pair of Nikes. At least the weather cooperated. It was a little chilly though, so I went back and grabbed my old, faded violet hooded tunic pullover (didn't want to sweat up any of my nice stuff).

So, with my wallet, keys and my old pepper spray, I was all set.

I was able to manage several circuits of Dupont Circle and the surrounding streets, and let myself in my place after a little over an hour of mild jogging (I'm taking it slow), and a stopover at the market for some water.

And here I am now, typing up this blog, squeaky-clean after a shower, with a bagel, a muffin and a hot chocolate beside my keyboard.

Anyway, if I'm gonna be doing this regularly, I think I need some more, ummm... showy outfits, and try and take my girl-self for a better test drive. I'm really shy about it (as my BCTS chatroom girls know), but yesterday gave me some confidence, not to mention getting some... positive looks today, I think I can stop being a shrinking violet, and maybe make some headway into adjusting better.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl: Blog #4 My new reputation as Choco-Monster

I was sorta dreading today, as there might be some fallout from my tough stance in the meeting last Friday.

But I guess it worked. Sort of. But I don't know how to feel about it. Everyone seemed a little over-solicitous. I mean, everyone in the team greeted me Good Morning today - several said "good morning, boss," or chief, or ma'am, or something like that. Well, I guess I had no choice - don't know enough to be the chummy boss, so I guess I had to settle for the by-the-book boss.

I didn't wear a suit today, but I did wear a nice outfit - ivory silk blouse, a brown front-pleated above-the-knee tartan skirt, dark tights and high-heeled pumps. I thought to be a bit dressy today coz it's a Monday (I read that somewhere).

The three team leads made excuses to meet with me individually. I asked them to come back at ten so the four of us could meet together. (Actually, the truth was, I also needed the time to review the customer requirement documents. heehee).

We assigned areas - one of the all-girl teams was gonna be in charge of documentation, testing and QA, the all-guy team (under "Mr. Personality") would be in charge of design and specs writing, and the other all-girl team and mine will be in charge of user interviews and data gathering (I would be calling the client to set up meetings for the whole of this week, and maybe next).

The three of them were full of questions, and though I answered as best I could (good thing I reviewed the requirements...), I couldn't answer most of their questions, and I got real adept at saying "what do you think?" real quick. But I think I fooled them enough coz the meeting went well, and we ended the meeting positively. Looks like I really need to meet with the client.

I also got asked by my boss to meet up because she wanted to ask how my meeting went last week. When I went in, I was a bit shocked because the other unit heads were there, too. Apparently it was the weekly Monday meeting with the boss. I didn't know about these meetings since they were for active projects only, and I only got my project last week.

Anyway, everyone briefed the boss about their projects' status, and when it was my turn...

After I finished my report, I found out that I made a booboo (well, not exactly). In last week's meeting, I had split my group into functional teams and had already assigned work. Usually, the managers would do this only after a week or two after the project's kick-off meeting (my boss assumed that our meeting-slash-lunch-out last Friday was the kick-off meeting, and I didn't dissuade her from that impression). The upshot of it was was that I did a few things a bit prematurely. I mean, no one told me about these things...

Anyway, even so, my booboos seemed to have impressed the boss and my peers, as I got a lot of "good work," as well as hugs and slaps-on-the-back after the meeting. The only downside is that the boss gave my team four months instead of the contracted six. Truth was, my team leads had estimates of four months as well, but maybe we were being overly optimistic.

My boss and us managers went out for lunch, which I learned was what they usually did after every Monday meeting. Since I was new, the boss paid for my lunch, also the usual thing that they did.

When we got back, the boss gave me a little congratulatory hug and a whispered "good work" before she went into her office.

I met with my team leads and told them the news, and for them to break it to their respective teams gently. They were a little disappointed that we weren't gonna get the two-month breathing room, but I said I think we can do it. I was surprised that it actually cheered them up a bit.

I was planning to leave at five today, but most of my guys were still at their terminals doing pre-work. I looked at the terminals of some of the guys, and was happy that they were starting to make workflow templates already, and the girls were already making document templates, as well as chopping up documentation work into functional sets. I heard that it was Mr. Personality's doing - seems he got copies of project templates from some previous projects, and the teams were sorta copy-pasting chunks of them into versions for our project. It wasn't against any company rules or practices, but it seems no one's thought of doing this kind of thing in an organized way. No surprise - our unit's not ISO nor CMMI-certified, and no standard templates were available.

I went to Mr. Personality's desk, and, in front of his team, I said thanks, and told him good work. And I should start calling him something other than Mr. Personality...

Y'know, overall, objectively, being a girl is more fun (just my own point of view, of course), but it's better to be a girl and have authority at the same time. It's true, girls are objectified, get more condescension and are overlooked more (I get touches of that everyday), but if you're the boss, that's not the case - talk about having your cake and eating it, too. And this is very apparent in the fixed hierarchy of an office environment. But then again, there's alway someone higher in the totem pole and they'll let you know it, especially if you're a girl. *sigh*

And, when you're a girl, you always get the creepy so-and-sos that keep staring at you or your legs or or something while they think you're not looking. And it's ten times more awkward in the office because you have to work with these people. Wouldn't mind much if it was a friendly sort, or a cute guy or girl doing the staring...

I decided not to leave the office yet while most of my guys were still working. Hence, I'm still here. One of the girls saw me in my office and came by with a little paper cup of hot chocolate from the vending machines. I was touched. Also, some of the others have been leaving chocolate bars on my desk (I got a Hershey bar, a little bag of Hershey Kisses and a couple of Snickers bars, though I ate one of the Snickers bars already). Don't know how, but seems I've acquired a reputation as a chocolate monster (sort of like Cookie Monster, but with chocolate instead). My boss came by to say goodnight, and to peek into my team. I gave her the Hershey bar.

All in all, I thought it was a good day today. Most of the others have already gone so I'll be leaving for home in a bit. Btw, I got a spanking-new lavender-and-black wheelie backpack-bag which I bought yesterday (as well as some other stuff). Am not really ok carrying a lot of stuff around so I got a new bag with a handle n wheels. And no, Pip, I do not look like a stewardess. ;-)

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #5: Having lunch at the office, or maybe I should just keep my door closed

I spent the morning with my three team leads, talking about user requirements, and the fact that we had some questions that only the client can answer. Actually, a whole lot of questions. I had a short five minute talk about it with the boss. The upshot of it was was that all four of us are on our way to Richfield, Minnesota tomorrow.

Strictly a fly-in-fly-out kind of thing, though, as we would be flying back the following day. So we adjourned for lunch with plans of meeting at four later.

I talked with the department's secretary and she made the arrangements for the tickets, the airport pickup and the car rental. I then talked with the client's VP for purchasing and he set up a meeting for tomorrow.

I was brown-bagging it coz I intended to have lunch in the office, and do a bit more work. The others kept on peeking in, asking if I had plans for lunch, and I told 'em to go on ahead. Thing was, even after lunch, they still were peeking in. Hopefully, after the novelty of the new boss fades, these kinds of interruptions will become less. Must remember to wear longer skirts or slacks next time.

Surprisingly, I didn't step out of the office most of the day. But there were always people peeking in wanting to chat. Most of those who would pass by just wanted to say hi, but there were a lot asking for my signature or asking about some office thing. Truth was, though, I didn't mind the interruptions much - I felt flattered that people were asking my opinions. Although later on, I realized that my telling people what to do was just my job, and it wasn't because I was some sort of genius. That brought my feet crashing down to earth. That little mini-epiphany made me notice that much of what I was being asked were just a lot of office minutiae, not really taking a lot of brains to decide on. Guess this is how it is to be the one in the position to decide on things. Not exactly what I imagined it, and not exactly ego-boosting, either. But it was still new enough for me that it wasn't too irritating. I worked a little more subdued and a lot less peppy after that.

Still, the occasional hot chocolate from the vending machines that the girls brought pepped me up but I started worrying about my weight, what with all this chocolate. I told the girl that brought the third one that I'd better not, and I got a little lesson in people management: though she didn't say anything or do anything, I sensed that I offended her by not accepting. I guess if it's your boss saying no to such a gesture, it means something.

So I had to do a little fence-mending and had a little chit-chat with the girl and her cubicle-neighbors (just inconsequential girl-talk) later on.

Also, I didn't know how to manage some of the other things that someone else in my position would probably easily manage. For example, the table in my little office was one of those glass-topped ones, and I distinctly felt some of the guys were looking at my legs while pretending to read the report they brought in. Must remember to wear slacks, or to put a blotter on my desk. A real girl would probably know how to manage such things. And how does this figure in the total sexual office politics thing?

Anyway, other than these little things, it was a humdrum kind of day, tiring as only a day full of little details can be.

Next time though, I guess I should just keep my door closed. And wear slacks.

Also - will be out for a couple of days 'coz of the business trip, so no blogs for a bit. Better go home, now, and pack for tomorrow. Will talk to you guys later.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #6: Leaving on a jetplane

Hey.

Barely have time to post. Anyway, am leaving for a short trip to Minnesota this morning. My flight's for 11am. Just waiting for the airport shuttle to Reagan. So no blogs until tomorrow night, or maybe Friday.

Seeya later!

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #7: Back from my trip to Minnesota, or Went on a business trip, met a girl, and now I think I'm in love

Well, I'm back. Dog-tired from the trip, but back...

It was just a fly-in-fly-out kind of thing. Didn't even have time to play tourist, even a little bit. Wait for the arrival of the shuttle at nine thirty. Leave Reagan at twelve (delayed), arrive at Minneapolis at two (St. Paul time), get the rental (no time for lunch), drive to Richfield (we got lost, but that was expected), get to the client's main office by three-thirty. go blah-blah with the customer, squeeze in as many interviews as you can with the sales, warehouse, marketing and IT guys, and then check in at the nearby motel by eight, grab some dinner while discussing the project, and got to bed by one (I think) dog-tired. Wake up at six, check out and get to the client's by eight. Xerox some papers, copy some files, more interviews, leave for the airport by ten, fly back by one, nap on the plane, and back by five. Nap some more in the shuttle and home by six.

Total elapsed time, thirty-plus hours. I'm dog-tired. Woof...

At least we got everything we needed (I think), and if we need some more info, we'll get it from one of their DC or Virginia stores. The good thing about it is that our consensus was that the project seems to be a simple one, and we could probably do it in less than three months. I told my guys not to tell anyone that, though, and leave us some breathing space just in case.

The people at the client's seem to be a good bunch. Their company was hit by the recession, like all others - they had to do some downsizing as well as close some of their branches. But business was coming back (at least for them).

One of the people we met was one of their senior people for distribution - a beautiful, five-eleven girl from Texas. When we met yesterday, I was almost struck dumb - she's that pretty. She was actually good-looking enough to be a Victoria's Secret model. I was wondering what a beauty like this would be doing in a company like that, and doing, of all things, managing warehousemen, drivers and stockroom people, until we saw her in action.

A minor crisis seemed to have developed (there was a delayed loading of one of their trucks.) while we were closeted in the IT manager's office, and the girl was paged on her walkie-talkie. We asked to tag along, and we saw how adept the lady was in managing the crisis. She dressed down the man at fault for the delay, but in a Texas-girl kind of way (sort of kill-with-kindness-and-an-accent). Seems someone decided to use a too-small truck to load the shipment, but the boxes to load were too big so they had to load it by hand instead of in pallets using the forklifts. Anyway, it was a pretty complicated problem and it meant that the shipping will be delayed.

As they were getting the last of the boxes loaded, the girl rolled up her shirt sleeves, climbed up the back of the truck and helped with the loading. All the men there seemed to respect her, and was eager to do what she asked, and I guess it stems mostly from the fact that the girl was competent, and wasn't afraid of getting her hands dirty to do the work.

I re-evaluated my impression of her. Instead of a supermodel, I think she would better fit the image of an Amazon warrior, or Wonder Woman or something. That is, if Wonder Woman was a blonde. And that made her all the more attractive to me.

I think my infatuation with the girl was obvious to everyone, including her. After she freshened up and we continued with our meeting, the girl was in a playful mood, and was horsing around with me, in a friendly girlfriend kind of way, and she kept commenting on my blushing.

After the meeting, during dinner, I tried to see if my reputation with my guys was affected. I think it wasn't, though they teased me about it a little bit, and they were chattier. I think it sort of broke the ice with my guys, and they were less distant. Which was a good thing, especially with "Mr. Personality." Awkwardly, one of the girls tried to ask if I like girls. I sidestepped the issue by saying something like "Yes, I do. And guys, too. Did you see the tall one wearing the jeans?" (I was referring to a tall, good-looking guy who had the room next to the IT director, and was wearing this really tight pair of jeans) The girls went, "Oooh, yeah!" What ensued after that was another kind of discussion altogether. And that was that.

My sexual orientation has always been one of the bigger questions I've been trying to get a handle on, especially after my transition. I guess it hasn't really been settled. My wanting to be a regular girl used to mean to me that I had to be a regular girl in all things, and I truly tried. After transition, I even tried dating men a couple of times, as well as going all the way, but I guess the best way to say it is I just didn't feel it. Does this mean I'm a lesbian, or maybe I'm just not a real girl? Ponder ponder... All I know is that I guess I'm gonna have a lot to tell my therapist about this Saturday.

Anyway, today, I wore heels, a short skirt and a nice lemon-yellow blouse with short flutter sleeves. One of my girls teased me for dressing up for her. I smiled and said I didn't know what she was talking about, and we all giggled about it. Mr. Personality just sighed mock-exasperatedly, and said "women..." Which earned him a good-natured raspberry, and we all laughed. I think I had a good group with me. Remains to be seen if I can retain their respect in the long run. I hope I will.

Anyway, we finished up our morning with them by copying some reference documents and sample files onto a thumbdrive that they gave us, and I spent the morning with the girl at her office, and getting screenshots of many of the applications that they use for tracking inventory and recording orders. She casually put her arm around my shoulder as I sat in front of her terminal, and we chatted while we worked. I wanted to do the same, but I have to be professional, and besides, what if she doesn't like it.

Anyway, enough of this touchy-feely stuff. Suffice it to say, I guess I got a crush on the girl. I'm still not that good at feeling out people, girls, especially. Deep down, I had naively thought that such instant understanding came with the gender. Maybe it doesn't. Or maybe, only born-girls have that instinct. So I don't really know if she's just being friendly, or if I actually have a chance. Oh, well.

Before we left, I gave my card to the VP who set up our meeting, as well as to those that we interviewed, which included the girl. She said that she often went around to their branch stores, and said that she would ring me if she was visiting some of their stores back home. Hopefully, she will.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #8: High-tension team meeting, or Having trouble with my contacts, so just call me Bobbie Four-Eyes

Stayed up a little late last night. Well, I actually go to bed at around one a.m. usually. But given the long couple of days, maybe I should have gotten more Z's. Plus the fact that I kept waking up. Guess I was just worried about the meeting in the morning, plus I was tired.

Anyway, I tried to get as much sleep as I could, and got up at around six. Did my usual morning routine - bathroom, shower n shampoo, brush teeth, clothes n makeup n hair. But I skipped my usual breakfast so I could make it to the office by eight. Plus it wasn't my weekly (Monday mornings are my weekly), so I was able to leave early enough that I made it to the office by eight.

Thing was, I guess my eyes were a little swollen from lack of sleep etc. and I had a real hard time putting my contacts in. So, reluctantly, I decided to wear glasses. I couldn't find them though, so I had to use my old pair, which I call my "comfy glasses."

Those of you who regularly wear glasses know that it can be uncomfortable to be wearing glasses continuously, and if you've gone through several pairs like me, you'll know that some of them are more comfortable than others. I've always needed glasses since high school (my prescription is now in the high 600's, and can't get by without any corrective lenses), and have gone through several over the years. I have one pair (must be over ten years old) that was my most comfortable one, so I've held onto it and upgraded the lenses regularly. My "comfy glasses" are now my emergency set. After transition, I decided to change my image some more and wear contacts, only wearing glasses if needed.

My problem is that my comfy glasses aren't exactly high-fashion. It's one of those big n round thin-wire-rim ones (pre-Lisa Loeb y'know), and looks woefully unfashionable now. But they ARE comfortable. Anyway, I looked at my reflection in my dresser's mirror and I look a bit like a little girl. Grrr.

Anyway. I got into the big conference room, and our department secretary had everything set. On the side were pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausages and bacon, orange juice and big pots of coffee. On the side were paper cups and plates, and instead of plastic forks and such, she had laid out real ones (the company really was serious about the earth-friendliness thing). Pretty plain spread, actually but just the ticket for this meeting. Lots of chairs, a projector and a screen. Great. She went to me proffering a big cup, apologizing that they didn't have hot chocolate, so she got me a couple from Coffee Bean.

I mentioned that some of the managers and bosses might want to drop by, and she said that she made sure there was extra. She also said that the food came from one of the canteen concessionaires so it didn't cost much. I have to give her props for her thoroughness.

Anyway, I gave her a hug and started the meeting.

The meeting started almost on time, and everything went okay, and there was a lot of good-natured bantering, but on the whole, it went pretty tame and pretty smooth.

So, my team leads and I showed everyone what we got, and we got a lot of "ohs" and "ahs" and "so that's what they meant" comments. I think our trip was very worth it. I insisted, though, that we not talk how to handle the requirements yet, but to concentrate on understanding their operation. Everyone brought out notepads, laptops and netbooks, and we finished with a lot of questions asked and answered.

I then opened the floor, and a lot of tech-talk then ensued. There was a lot of talk about applets and some call-outs to external routines to accomplish some of what the customer needed that Domino or Sharepoint couldn't manage, and Mr. Personality and his team more than earned their keep, having ready suggestions and plans to manage them. I suggested using what's called a "wrapper," which puts a lot of api's together making just one multi-purpose app or api that other routines just need to call. After a short beat, my suggestion was greeted with some claps and a lot of enthusiastic murmuring. Anyway, enough geek-talk. Suffice it to say, the meeting was just about a lot of IT guys talking about a lot of IT stuff.

That was a nice time for a break so I called everyone to the little buffet, and to grab a bite while we continued the meeting.

The meeting was more leisurely after that, sort of a working brunch thing. I asked the team leads to present their teams' pre-work. Everyone showed what they had done, and we looked at a pretty nifty set of user manual templates, pre-structured test script skeletons, and pre-structured routines. No one noticed some of the other managers had come in, so we were surprised when we heard a manager from a different group make a comment that these templates weren't standard.

This was greeted with silence. Someone in the middle of the room sub-vocalized, "oooh...” and there was a lot of nervous murmuring and giggling. The guy who said the offending comment felt compelled to explain himself, saying that these weren't according to standard company specs.

One of my guys (whom I later found out used to be part of that manager's group) stood up and asked me if he could plug his laptop into the projector. I was a little worried but I nodded. Anyway, he popped up a set of specs and one MS-Word file. They looked very similar to our stuff. My guy said that these were from a recently-completed and signed-off project, whose format and style was the basis of our stuff, and were in fact from a project that that manager had run himself

I decided to cut it there, thanked the guy and he took the file off the screen.

But the manager, face very red, wouldn't let it go, saying something like, regardless, our stuff was not standard. One of my girls then said something like, of course it's not standard, because the company hasn't mandated any standard yet.

Before it could escalate further, our department head (who we didn't see come in) stood up and said that, perhaps it's time that we did start making a standard. She then turned to me and said that, while the company was still deciding on standard specs and methodologies, my team will document how we did our project, and to come out with a set of standard documentation, design and programming templates, because, if I was successful, our department will start using what we have as it's standard.

She then said congratulations and good work to the team, and adjourned the meeting.

Well...

Anyway, after the meeting, we all went back to our cubicles. I went to Mr. Personality's cubicle, where his team was clustered around. I said congratulations to them, and had a hushed talk with his team, and especially the guy who stood up. The guy pre-empted me, saying that that guy has had a reputation as an asshole ever since he got promoted as a manager, and was leaving the company in a few weeks, anyway.

In any case, I said that we should go easy on embarrassing anyone, not just managers. But what happened was a good thing in a way, in that, now the entire department will be looking to us now. (By that time, I noticed most of my guys were clustered around us, listening in.) Everyone murmured at that, but I said we got everything lined up and we can do it.

On that positive note, we all went back to work. When I went back to my office, I found our department head and our department secretary waiting. My boss said congratulations and said that, if I needed an extra hand for the documentation work, she was assigning our department secretary to me for the duration. She shook my hand, gave me a light hug and left. Without asking, our department secretary handed me her resume. We sat down at my table and we talked about her background. I found out that she was eminently technically capable. I said that we should meet again on Monday so I could sort out her work. Well... I was shell-shocked to say the least. No wonder everyone thought highly of her. She actually sort of reminded me of Texas Girl.

Anyway, for the rest of the day, it was run-of-the-mill. Except when I heard a bit of an argument outside. I heard some guy loudly saying to my people how can they work for a kid like me. One of my girls said I wasn't a kid and that they were lucky to have me, and the others invited the guy to leave not too politely , and he skulked off. The guy would probably not have said anything if he realized I was in my office.

I don't know if I was polarizing the office or not. Hopefully not, coz I was liking it here. I was actually wondering why this was happening, as I hadn't said one cross word to anyone, and was unfailingly polite the whole time since I started working here.

"Kid." I've always had that problem. At least, after transition, I've realized being "kid-like" wasn't too much of a disadvantage for a girl as it was for a guy. At least I don't get beat up for it anymore.

Still - better not wear my comfy glasses to work again.

Anyway, better shut down and get some sleep. Nite-nite to everyone.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #9: Nothing exciting today - just jogging, or Second Saturday jogging and I got jogging partners now

Nothing exciting to write about today, except that I went out jogging again this morning, and I wore one of the two jogging outfits I bought last Sunday - a white sports bra and white leggings both with baby-blue trim. I partnered them with my new white n silver Nike Air Max with baby-blue trim (I'll wear the pro-core top n skapri next week). Though the weather's been getting warmer, it was still in the low sixties so I wore my powder-blue zip-front hoodie, which was convenient since it gave me a place to put my wallet, keys and pepper spray.

When I got down to the lobby, my three team leads were there, waiting. I had forgotten that, on the bus/shuttle trip home two days ago, I mentioned that I had just started jogging, and they said they wanted to try exercising as well, and asked to tag along.

We had about an hour of leisurely jogging, but the two girls had trouble keeping up. I know this is mean of me, but I felt better knowing someone was more out of shape than me. Heehee.

After a little over an hour, we quit and I brought them to Soho, my favorite coffee place, and had coffee as we wound down. We talked a bit about some inconsequential stuff and talked some shop talk.

At one point, Mr. Personality got up to go to the bathroom. The girls looked at the guy as he went to the bathroom, then at me, and then they giggled. I asked what was it, and they just shook their heads.

Eventually, everyone went home and I went to CVS for some toiletries I was running low on.

I went back home and took a shower. Wonder if they would be jogging with me again next week. I wish they would. Having them around made things feel normal - that's the closest word I could think of to explain what I was thinking. I guess what I want to say was that doing normal things with other people made me feel like a regular person, or, more than that, a person that others accepted AS a regular person. And it also made me feel less lonely, too. Sorry, that's the best I can do to describe what I was thinking.

Anyway, sorry for the humdrum post. I hope to have some better stuff to write about later. Logging off now - having lunch out with my best friend (she's gonna show off her new car, I can just tell)

Later.

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #10: Learning to dress in "business casual," or Girl clothes are fun, but I miss pockets - The new meaning of VPL To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Be warned - nothing major happened today, so today's blog will just be a lot of folderol about nothing. Hope you aren't too disappointed.

I was a little sleepy at work today - blame Pip and Mel over in the chatroom. (just jokin', girls!). I was chatting with them until close to three am, hence Bobbie Sleepyhead.

Anyway...

After a long discussion about my see-through desk in the chatroom last night, I decided to wear pants today (or "trousers" for Mel and her European cohorts :-) I understand that "pants" mean underwear or something like that over there).

Also, I decided to not wear a suit - just business casual.

Like most everyone, I have ideas about what "business casual" meant, but nothing specific. So I emailed our department secretary last night via blackberry, asking if the company had any specific rules about it. She emailed back in the morning (which I read just before getting ready). Seems most anything is okay, but there were a few absolute no-no's: jeans, rubber shoes, flip-flops and shorts were obvious. Less obvious were collarless shirts for men; for women no plunging necklines or strapless tops, and the shortest hemline allowed is above-the-knee. And if you have a meeting with a client, you had to wear business clothes. Sammi said that most managers have a change of clothes in their offices handy, in case they have to meet with clients.

I don't like Mondays because, aside from being a Monday, Mondays were when I do my weekly. After finishing up the slightly messy routine using the medium one (regardless of what my therapist says, it takes MORE than 10 minutes to do it properly), I did my usual morning ablutions, makeup and hair, and got dressed in a pair of fawn-colored slacks, maryjane-type heels and a simple powder-pink blouse. I decided to follow the example of the other managers and put my one "utilitarian" pinstripe suit with the fitted slacks, and a pair of pumps in a wardrobe bag, and skedaddled. (I think most know what I mean about "utilitarian" - those kinds of clothes that look okay but not too dressy, and are made out of materials and colors that take or hide dirt and stains well)

When I got to my little office, I put my new little round electric fan and little desk lamp on my table, hung up the wardrobe bag in the tall cabinet (there was a hook in there which seemed designed for a hanger, although I had to hop a little to hook it on 'coz it was set a little high) and positioned my new leather blotter with the electronic clock-and-calendar embedded at the top edge. (Yes, someone said blotters are passé, but I decided to get one, still.) I also conveniently put my little trolley-backpack underneath the table in front of my feet. Et voila! See-through desk problem solved!

Anyway, the business-casual thing: it backfired a bit. Although maybe three-fourths of the people in the other teams were in business casual, maybe ninety percent of my guys were in suits or dressy outfits. I don't know, but maybe the guys noticed that I was more formal on Mondays and decided to wear suits today...

When Sammi came in for our morning meeting to talk about her duties, at least she was in casual, too. That made me feel better. She had the office manager with her though, plus some guy who volunteered to be cameraman today. Apparently they were taking the project team picture today, and no one told me... Maybe that's why the guys were in suits.

So there I was in the picture, sitting in front in my pink blouse and fawn slacks, with my team towering behind me, standing in suits and ties, all with big smiles. Talk about not blending in... I forced our department secretary to join us (she was part of the team, too, after all) and she stood a bit shyly to the side, in the front row.

Thing was, I heard some mumbling about my clothes. So during lunch, I took down my wardrobe bag (had to hop up and down a few times to snag the hanger) and changed into my pinstripes in the ladies. Some of the girls asked why I changed clothes. Most knew I had no meetings scheduled so I decided to be up-front and told them that since most were not in office-casual, I decided to change.

Later on that day, I made sure to mention in casual conversation with my team of three as well as the team leads of the other teams (my "jogging partners"), that I would be in business casual tomorrow, trusting in the office grapevine to spread the word. This way, I wouldn't be at fault for any choices in attire. Just in case.

All this hullabaloo about clothes... But ya does whats ya gots ta do...

I like girl clothes. Sure they're fun, and they look nice, but more than anything, they feel nice - the materials are always softer, and even tight outfits don't feel uncomfortable since there's a lot of stretch in most girl clothes.

Thing is, girls pants don't really have pockets. Oh, sure, they're there, but they're not really useable. Did you ever try putting your hand in the back pocket of a girl's pants? You can't even get your entire hand into one 'coz they're so small and shallow. Good luck getting a wallet in there. Girls' pockets are just there for show. First thing I learned, actually, even ahead of how to manage bras.

I guess that's one thing I miss from my guy days - working pockets! that's why girls carry around purses 'coz their pockets don't work. Girls will never know the convenience of pockets - having your wallet or your car keys with you all the time; having a convenient little cubby where you can put in your change, your comb, or your breath mints.

But the advantage of girls is that we DO carry purses and bags, and they can be BIG bags if they want, and are fashion accessories as well (I love my big Burberry hobo bag). Those that make fun of messy girls' bags are just jealous. Girls have so many ways to accessorize, and what do guys get? Watch? Tie? A montblanc pen? I got lots, plus my mobile pocket, otherwise known as a purse.

But back to pockets.

The reason why women's pants pockets are like that are obviously because of fashion. Women's clothes have to be close-fitting and all that. Case in point - they are so close-fitting, everyone's so worried about VPL - the dreaded "visible panty line."

A momentary change of topic here to talk about VPL - I don't understand why it's such a big deal, really. Wear a thong. Sure, those with a prurient streak, or a nasty turn of mind will have a lot to say about thongs, but a girl can wear one and not let anyone know she's wearing one (except for the fact that she doesn't have a VPL). And they're surprisingly comfortable, too.

Now, back to pockets.

I suppose big "working pockets" won't be able to make the smooth-n-sexy look possible. And if there were pants with usable pockets, imagine how unsexy it is to see a girl with a back pocket bulging with a wallet, or a bumpy front pocket filled with keys and change.

I have a few pairs of pants, though, that have working pockets, but cargo pants are hardly sexy.

Visible panty lines are not a problem, at least not anymore. What's problematic are people who want functional pockets yet want to be fashionable. Visible Pocket Lines - that's the new VPL.

Hmmm. It's about 5PM already. Time to stop all this writing foolishness, get this posted and go home. It'll be real good to take a nap right about now.

To see all of Bobbie's BCTS blogposts, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see all of Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #11: A conversation in the bathroom, or "Are there napkins left in the vending machine?" To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I was in my office this afternoon, trying to make heads or tails of my notes as I worked on a little ER diagram on my laptop when one of the girls popped in.

"Bobbie, we're going to the bathroom," she said.

I answered "Okay," and continued to work. After maybe twenty seconds later, I realized that she was still by the door, waiting. What was she doing there? I thought she was going to the bathroom. And then delayed reaction set in.

Oh.

I hurriedly pressed control-S in the Visio program, minimized the window, and grabbed my purse and went out. Apparently I was joining the girls in going to the bathroom.

Lately, little lapses like that seem to be happening more and more, as I got busier and busier with the project. Damn.

Before transition, I always used to wonder what it is that girls do in the bathroom, and why they always go in there in groups. What is it that they do in there?

When I went through my RLT, I, of course, had to use the ladies, but I didn't much like to, and tried to go when there weren't any girls in there. I felt like I was some kind of imposter going in where I shouldn't. After transition, that kind of feeling went away, mostly, as now there isn't even an option. Besides, men's bathrooms are icky n smelly...

So, even though I didn't need to go, I, like most girls would, I think, felt compelled to join them.

Undoubtedly, some of the more voyeuristic males out there in the peanut gallery go, "so what do girls do in the bathroom?"

Surprisingly, nothing much...

As the girls used the facilities, I stayed in front of the mirror and fiddled with my hair with my cushion brush (for the past few months, I've told my hairdresser not to touch the length, and it's now passed my shoulders. Pretty soon, it’ll be long enough that I can start trying out some of the styles I've wanted to) and freshened up my make-up a bit. I know a lot of girls like me have a big fascination with make-up. I guess I was more into the hair thing.

Snatches of conversation float through the room, about little office details (are you done with your spec, yet?, or how cold it was this morning (very), or was there anything good in the cafeteria (French toast), who was dating who (one of the girls was dating someone as old as her dad), who wanted to go out later (apparently no one), and how cute the new analyst in the other department was (oooh!).

Someone in the left-most cubicle plaintively asked if there are any napkins left in the machine. Ooops! Someone in trouble. I hurried over to the machine and got a couple out, passing them under the cubicle door to the girl.

As soon as everyone was done, they joined me at the counter, washed their hands and fiddled with their makeup and hair. Pretty soon, it was pretty crowded in front of the mirror, but no one really minds that, so long as they get their mirror time.

I guess you could call it girl shoptalk when the conversation centers mostly around make-up, clothes and hair, and, in my little experience as a girl, mirror time is usually time for girl shoptalk.

Some girl commented on my lipstick shade so I handed it over. I was still a bit squeamish about lending lipsticks (in my mind, it was like sharing toothbrushes), but it was a thing that girls do, so I offered the tube. Per the "new protocol," she politely declined the tube (y'know, what with swine flu and aids and all). You have to offer, you know, and the other girl's supposed to politely decline. Unspoken rule, at least here in the office.

I commented on one of the girls' outfits, and the younger of the five commented that, yes, it was pretty fierce. The girl smiled and preened.

The conversation was like that the whole time, just a lot of small talk and gossip. I used to wonder why girls feel compelled to talk in the bathroom when they can very well do it in the office outside. Eventually I sort of learned that, since the girls' bathroom is exclusively for them, they (or should I say 'we') feel freer to talk, and not have to constantly censor or check themselves with male ears eavesdropping. Even more than that, there's less of a pecking order and there's mostly no rank or position or anything like that in there. I mean, with your panties around your ankles, can you still pull rank?

As for me, I guess it’s where I feel more accepted. Weird, huh, feeling accepted while sitting on the toilet. Par for the course, I think, for this topsy-turvy world of mine.

For Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
For Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #12: Bringing up my seven-year-old, or I don't care how old she is 'coz she's mine To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Last Saturday, my best friend came by and treated me out to late lunch, which is always a good thing for me. (My sister says, or used to say, that I had a bottomless pit for a stomach) But it's not just getting together for a bite. She wanted to show off her new car...

In my old company, managers are eligible for the company's car plan. As I mentioned before, I resigned from my old job last December. Nikki didn't and stayed on, and she was in line for a new car this year, which she got a couple of weeks ago.

The way it worked was that the company paid for half the cost of the car, and the balance you pay in equal semi-monthly installments until the balance is fully paid, at which point, you have the option of buying it from the company at a nominal price which can be as low as $500. All in all a great deal. There is a catch, though - you have to return the car if you happen to resign before the payments is completed.

(I availed of the program last year, and got a really wonderful copper-red Mazda 3, which I loved to pieces. But I had to return it as there were at least two more years of payments to go.)

So I come downstairs, and there she was, sitting in her brand-spanking-new BMW 128i. But let's stop talking about her car now 'coz I just might die of envy all over again.

Since I had to return my car, I was reduced (though that's an unfair word to use) to using my seven-year-old one, which I bought long before transition. (My current company's car plan is nothing much more than a facilitated car loan with preferential payment terms. So, yuck.)

I didn't really know much about cars then (actually, I still don't know much now), so when I bought her, my decision points were simple - how much was it, and how did it look.

My seven-year-old is a little 4x4 called a Suzuki Jimny (which was the new line, I think, that took over from the Samurai). The guys in the chatroom know that I call her "Cricket." Hey, it's a Jimny, right? Y'know? Jimny Cricket? Ahhh, never mind...

She's not all that impressive, specs-wise (1300 engine, barely room enough for four people, leaf-spring shocks so you get a bumpy ride), but she was a 4x4, she was cute and she was within my budget.

Jimnys weren't available at the regular Suzuki dealerships, and I saw Cricket as an import from this specialty car dealership at an unbelievable price, and I bought her on the spot. When I got that company car last year, I thought of selling her, but I never really got around to it, which turned out to be a good thing. Maybe deep inside I didn't want to - she was the first ever car I got which I bought myself without anyone's help, and she's been with me since my transition, which, I suppose, is what gives her her sentimental value.

Thing is, when I got her, I didn't really plan for when I would be the way I am now. From the outside, Cricket is as cute as an SUV can be, but it's not really easy to ride as a girl: The bottom is higher than my knee, which anyone knows is hard on someone wearing a skirt especially for someone as short as me, the stick shift’s a little stiff (I didn't get the automatic which had miserable mileage specs), because it was higher off the ground than normal, I couldn't see the front from the driver's side, the pedals are small and so far in that I could barely reach them, and it had a regular three-point seatbelt (meaning it's cabin bracket's mounted near the roof) so my boobs are pinched (though my babies aren't as... substantial as I wanted them to be).

As they say, necessity is the mother of invention, and good thing I was inventive heehee. So over the years, as Cricket and the girl me got to know each other, I discovered ways around these... inconveniences.

First - how to get in. I have a little mind mnemonic that I use when I don't want to flash pedestrians: "Butt first, feet second." That means, I open the door, sit in the seat, and then swivel my butt around and, voila! I'm in.

Second - seeing over the hood: you know those little backrest things with the beads that you see cabdrivers use? It works! Though I covered it with a nice pink flannel otherwise, my back would be covered with little dimples because of the beads. With the flannel, the back's comfortable, and the seat raised my line of sight by at least three inches.

Third - seatbelt: well, I just make sure that the strap rests between my two little babies.

Fourth - stick shift: no real fix there. Except I find that swearing seems to make it easier to put Cricket in gear.

Fifth - the pedals: I push the seat as far forward as I can while still being comfortable. I don't keep them adjusted forward permanently as it would interfere with the "butt first" thing, so I would adjust the seat forward when I get in, and adjust it backward when I get out. And I bought a pair of crocs (yeah, I know. But no one's gonna see 'em anyway, and they're easy to put on) that I would change into when I get in the driver's seat. With the crocs, I can manage the pedals fine.

About the pedals - I do have a new problem, though - strappy heels have become sorta the standard fashion now, and anyone who's had to put on a pair knows how hard it is to put them on - put the shoe against your foot until it's comfortable, wrap the thong around your shin and leg (making sure they're flat instead of twisted), and then knotting them. and then, when putting on the other one, you have to do all that again, with the added difficulty of making sure that the straps are wrapped around your leg in the same pattern of criss-crosses AND are knotted at the same height. I even have to sit on the floor sometimes when I put them on so I can check if the straps and knots match. It's true - women are slaves to fashion.

Now, imagine trying to take them off just to change into your rubber crocs...

But if I get a bee in my bonnet to wear my strappies or my gladiator sandals, I just do my best. Learning to step on the clutch and brake with the ball of your foot is a skill you learn real quick.

But I ain't gettin' rid of Cricket. She's mine and she's given me years of good service, and she's cute. And, what? Get rid of all these hard-won skills?!

Pooh on Nikki's BMW. And If anyone sez different, Cricket n I will run 'em over.

For Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
For Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #13: Woke up on the wrong side, or I'm mean today To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

You know that hackneyed old phrase, "waking up on the wrong side of the bed?" I don't know the etymology of the phrase, but I know what it means. And I think I did indeed wake up on the wrong side this morning.

I can't really put my finger on why except perhaps because of a lot of little things: I had a bad evening, ran out of chocolate mix this morning, some idiot cut me off just as I was driving out of my building, another idiot cut me off a minute later (though that's a common occurrence in Dupont Circle), and then same guy who's been parking in my new parking space took my spot again. I was preternaturally irritable and primed to get angry at any moment.

Though I didn't do it deliberately, I had dressed in a severe suit - black blazer, gray skirt and black heels. My subconsciousness empathizing with my consciousness perhaps?

Anyway, I had called in my three team members as soon as I got in, and then called in the three other teams in my group in close succession, and got a detailed status report from all of them. Looking back at it now, I wasn't happy that I did that.

The upshot of it was that everyone was on track, even though there were indeed rough spots, particularly in the screen formats and the documentation (most of my people's grammar is pretty bad, it seems - worse than mine, even), and I let them have it, lecturing them as they sat around my table and I held forth from my swivel chair.

After I had met with everyone, I then asked Sammi to come in, and she was able to manage my "condition" quite expertly - I suppose that's a sign of a very competent executive assistant: the ability to calm a boss down. My boss was lucky to have her. Anyway, with her taking the cue, she was able to steer me away from my snit, even while she was discussing her assignment with me.

Much more mellow, I asked Sammi a favor (making it super-clear that it was indeed a favor and not an order), and if she can find that sob that took my parking spot. She smiled at my seeming reluctance, nodded and left.

About ten or fifteen minutes later, some guy came over and, without knocking, came in and stood in front of my table, asking what I wanted.

I explained that the reason I asked him to come was because he inadvertently took my parking space. As I was explaining, he interrupted me in the middle and said that he'll find another parking space next time, and asked if that was it.

That got me going again and I let him have a piece of my mind.

Needless to say, he left my office very subdued.

As he passed the cubicle of one of my team-members, he said to the guy, "you were right." The guy sub-vocalized "I told you so." Clearly, they thought I couldn't hear, but I did.

You better believe it, buster.

I don't really know where this mood was coming from, except perhaps from last night - I didn't have a good night last night (you know how some little things set you off? Someone pushed one of my buttons, I guess.)

Later on, I heard that phrase I heard three weeks ago (I heard someone say "tiny terror" in the cafeteria as I was getting a bagel and a hot chocolate), and it put the morning in better perspective for me.

Whatever it was, it was totally inappropriate to take it out on my guys. It was like a bucket of water was dumped on me. Better cool it.

So I decided to stay in my office for a while, and see about calming down.

For the rest of the afternoon, my guys came in, in dribs and drabs, showing me the things that they've done. Deliberately, I looked for things I could praise them about, and just kept my comments about the mistakes minimal and to-the-point. I don't want to undo all the things I've accomplished with these guys. And besides, I want them to be cheerful. Hopefully, this'll be a step in recovering whatever ground I lost today.

Also, I don't want them thinking I'm PMSing or something.

For Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
For Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #14: Going out to lunch, or Being a girl means never having to pay To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I think I mentioned the guy in one of my earlier blogs - you know? That manager that started the whole standard documentation brouhaha? Well, he asked me to lunch today. Yeah, I know.

Well, I don't think I need to tell you that I wasn't inclined to go. But he goes and says that today would be his last day, and he wanted to apologize for any misunderstandings by taking me out to lunch. (My understanding was that his resignation wasn't effective until the end of the month, but it turned out that he took his last week as terminal leave.) What could I say to that, especially since I was talking with some of the team in the middle of my group's office area surrounded by people?

I looked around and caught the eye of my two team leads. I told him I had already made plans for lunch with some of the girls. (They looked at me and I looked back with an imploring look, and they giggled a little but didn't challenge my white lie.)

The guy seemed nonplussed at that, so he said to bring them along.

Well, long story short, the three of us were going out to lunch with him. The three of us trooped to the bathroom, fixed ourselves up, and grabbed our coats and purses.

We went to Buca di Beppo, which I told them meant something like Joe's Pit or Joe's Hole. Hey, gimme a break! There are very few times my being half Italian gets to be useful. (Truth is, though, I cannot speak the language at all, except for the odd word or two, but I ain't telling him that.) It looked like a Friday's type of place, but surprisingly it wasn't too crowded, and, thankfully, the music was turned off.

Going out to eat with other people as my girl self was still new enough for me that I was still a bit giggly about it all. And it is indeed a bit of a different experience, the largest difference being that men are more obsequious and deferential in a restaurant-type of situation. My chair being pulled out for me was still new, but not so new that I didn't jump, unlike the first few times I went out as a girl years ago. Being handed the menu first and getting to choose first was another perk. The three of us huddled together with the same menu and tried to pick what we wanted to eat.

The girls got baked rigatoni and I got a seafood linguine. Since I was eating linguine, I played safe and tucked my napkin under my collar. The girls giggled and I gave them a raspberry. Among Italians, bibs at the table are quite normal. Our waitress nodded (she might be Italian, too), smiled and gave me another napkin for my lap. The girls shared a light beer and I just stuck with diet Pepsi. I didn't hold my liquor well, even if it was just beer, so best to minimize. But all my good intentions flew out the window as we all had peach bellinis (yum!) with our meal.

In a burst of imagination (not!), the guy picked spaghetti and meatballs. We also shared a large loaf of garlic bread.

But I'm sure that you don't want a rundown of what we ate. Suffice it to say, it was a good meal, and I was more inclined to be friendlier to the guy.

Conversation was pleasant and light, and it was mostly about what the guy's plans were when he left. (I never noticed that guys liked to talk about themselves a lot. Or maybe I was being unfair, and it was only him...) Among other things, he said he wanted to travel for a bit before going back to work. (My mean brain thought he just couldn't find a job at the moment... I felt guilty for thinking that and chided myself for being so mean and cynical.)

The meal was leisurely and conversation was light. When the guy asked for the check, I didn't know whether or not to reach for my purse. The bill must have been close to a hundred, but the guy just handed his card over without batting an eye. One thing that I will always be happy about is that girls didn't pay for meals if they didn't want to. Heehee. I can imagine that, if I was the guy, I might resent having to pay alone, but clearly, he was out to impress us, or maybe just me. When we went to the bathroom, the girls weren't sure but they said the guy may like me. Well, I said I didn't like him. I knew I was being catty, and the girls said so. In this war of the sexes, which I barely knew the rules of, I had a glimpse of the basic reasons of this treating-girls-out thing. Or was I just being unfairly stubborn, or maybe because I wasn't a real girl, I wasn't really understanding the nuances of these things. Hmmm. Ponder ponder.

Anyways, we went back to the office, and we thanked him for a nice lunch, and everything went back to the normal routine.

At the end of the day, and everyone was getting ready to go (Friday, you know), the guy passed by my office and said goodbye. I gave him a professional handshake and wished him luck. I was surprised when he leaned down to give me a small peck on the cheek, and said good luck, too, and that he would miss me. Eh? I only met him once before, and that wasn't the most pleasant of meetings. What did this mean, or was this something normal? Guess I don't really know much about how these things worked yet.

For Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
For Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #15: For some friends To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

There can be miracles when you believe. Though hope is frail, it's hard to kill. Who knows what miracles you can achieve when you believe. Somehow you will. Now you will - you will when you believe. You will when you believe. Sandra Bullock and Michelle Pfeiffer- "When you believe" from Dreamworks' "The Prince of Egypt"

No jogging for me today, on account of rain, so I thought I'd put up a little blog for some friends.

Aunt Andrea and Beth - all I have to offer is what I can write.

Miracles can happen. Just hold on and keep on trying.

Believe.

   

For Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
For Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #16: Working with girls is different from guys, or "Yes, the PowerPoint's fine, except for the font - it's not cute enough" To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I hate Mondays, but I think I told you guys that before. Still, we have to make the best of it.

Since I woke up a little late (never go to sleep mad), I tried to finish my morning routine quickly: my Monday dilation & Kegels, bathroom, shower, and toothbrush. I was extra careful with my make-up as I decided to wear white today (probably wasn't a good idea given it's raining, but I wanted something different today): white stretch-cotton bootcuts with a brown patent-leather belt, three-inch camel-colored stretch platform pumps (similar to my usual kind of pumps, which are easy to take off. Though four inches is my limit.), a white long-sleeve bodysuit (so there'd be no visible tuck-ins, y'know) and a nice chocolate vest (unbuttoned) over the top. The bodysuit was pretty sheer and had a fairly low neckline, (for me, that is - I'm a bit of a prude, I guess) so I wore one of a couple of t-shirt demi bras that I had. I picked up my leather motorcycle jacket with the buckle-front, and hurried on out.

Instead of breakfast, I nuked a bagel and took a bottled water instead of my usual travel mug of hot chocolate (didn't want the possibility of stains on my white pants), and munched leisurely as I threaded my way though the usual downtown traffic. Got in before nine (my parking space was empty this time mwahahahah) and then straight to work.

Some of the process and workflow routines were starting to trickle in so it was a priority now to start building test data. I broke the news to my own data gathering team, as well as the other team, that our teams were changing roles, and would now be in charge of creating test data, Not surprisingly, this was greeted with a lot of groans. I said I was gonna be part of it so they didn't all feel so bad. (Or if they did, they kept it from me.)

I closeted myself with my three team-members, plus the girl in charge of the other team and I went over how I thought the test data buildup should go. Lots of back and forth, but we came to a consensus. We looked at the source material they had gathered, and started the tedious process of generating test data, broken down to data entry types and the the document types users were likely to work on. Anyway, I won't go through the entire thing but it was long and verrry tedious. And it was just the beginning, too.

I excused myself to go to my weekly meeting with the boss, where all the managers went over the status of their projects. I was grateful for the department's admin assistant as she had all of my references lined up. I'll be sad when she goes back to the boss fulltime after my project's done. (As an aside, I got lots of compliments for my outfit heehee)

Anyway, the meeting went fine, and the regular lunch thing with the boss was typical (I think), although most of the small talk was directed at me coz I was the newbie. (We had it in her office because of the rain.) I found it a little disconcerting that the other girls were asking me for fashion tips, but I did my best, relying mostly on that old standby question, "what do you think?" The guys were a bit flirty but I suppose it was just the normal guy thing - they were also acting the same with the other two girls, after all. Maybe after a while, I'll take all these things in stride and quit being so... jumpy about it.

When I got back to my office, I resumed work. In the short time that I have been part of this team, I've always tried to keep an open door policy (not literally, of course, but you know what I mean heehee), and some of the younger ones make full use of it actually, especially this one girl - a curly-haired chatty girl that had requested a transfer out of the call center unit. Not as quick as the others but trying real hard. Anyway, she had this habit of asking me her questions instead of her team-mates, and, though I felt slightly put out, she was actually one of the brighter spots in a very tedious afternoon.

Towards the end of the day, others started gravitating to my little office to chat, I suppose because of the girl's example. I was worried that productivity would drop off so after maybe half an hour, I gently said that we should all get back to work. Most took it with good grace, and I think we did a good day's work today.

During the course of the day, I again saw the main differences in how girls tended to work as opposed to guys. Whether my observations are colored by my own... special circumstances - I can't say. For example, I observed that guys are more objective-oriented than girls, who are more goal-oriented. Confusing, huh? Here's an example: a girl would concern herself with getting her assignment done on time, whereas a guy liked to compare his progress to the entire project deadline and not just his specific assignment's deadline. And indulging in... non-essentials is uniquely a girl thing: spending fifteen minutes in selecting the background color of her PowerPoint presentation is decidedly a girl thing. Also, ask a guy and he would probably say that a girl is less direct. If I were the one asked, I would say that a girl is more considerate - a girl would ask first before she trashed your program.

Also, girls are so much neater. Whether it's an unconscious thing of mine to try and emulate girls or not, since living full time as a girl, I've found myself preferring to keep my work-area neat and organized. Although my own personal space - my dresser table at home and the inside of my car, for example, are as messy as they can be. Whether or not this dichotomy is a common thing to girls or if it's just me, I don't know.

In my old job, I was more or less ignored. Here, I wasn't. I tried to keep thinking that it's partly because I'm their boss. It's flattering, and a great ego-boo. I wouldn't say it was a case of kissing up, but in their shoes, I would also give my boss more allowance and consideration simply because she was in a position of authority. I prayed that all of this wasn't all just kissing up. Which made me think: I wonder what the other managers thought of me.

I also wondered: are all girls this neurotic?

Anyway, better stop all this blogging while on company time heheh. Besides, it's already about five. I think I'll put my heels back on, pack up and go home early for a change. See you guys later.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #17: I can't reach that high, or Why did they have to put the furshlugginer box of bond paper at the top To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Nothing much to write about today's boring workday,

except that my guys are really into the testing, and making test cases. In other words - borrring...

Par for the course.

Most of my team's been on the phone, checking back with the client if the testing team's test scenarios were correct. Not that big a deal, actually, since our project is mostly a workflow kind of system, so test data types aren't as strict as in, say, an accounting system-type project. We had a lucky break actually - the client's people promised to courier us a disk drive full of actual data and scanned documents that we can use, both before end-of-month and after end-of-month data (which is great because it'll give us a before and after view). If this turns out okay, then that takes care of 90% of our test data buildup. If we're lucky, that'll knock at least three (maybe even four!) weeks from our timetable. But enough tech talk.

Like most any team in the company who's in the middle of testing, we go through paper like water. And because I had my own printer (it's just a DeskJet - I didn't rate my own laser printer), I was one of the heavier paper users. Anyway, I ran through my remaining ream of paper in an hour.

I didn't know where to get more paper. I asked around among my guys and one of them pointed me to a room which was just off the boss's room. So I went. What greeted me was a windowless room full of cardboard boxes. One wall was stacked with these boxes up to the ceiling, almost, each box helpfully labeled "typewriter paper." Cool. Thing was, the boxes were in stacks, with the lowest stack maybe three feet over my head. (I am what you might call "vertically challenged").

Experimentally, I tried pushing up the boxes to get at one in the middle, but to no avail. (Not being too strong comes packaged with the shortness thing). Anyway, the only logical thing to do was to take the topmost box. But I did say I... wasn't too tall, right?

Anyway, after a futile fifteen minutes of trying, Sammi comes in and shrieks, "What are you doing?!"

Sammi, being Sammi, sweet-talks one of the taller gents to come and get the top box for lil ole me. He takes it down and brings it to my office. Sammi then scolds me (in a friendly way), and why didn't I get one of the men to do it for me. That's what they're there for.

I guess a more, ummm, emancipated kind of girl will insist on doing things herself, and not be a powder puff kind of girly-girl, and have Neanderthals (no offense, guys!) carry stuff around for her. Guess after this incident, maybe Sammi thinks I'm that kind of girl. Truth is I get a kick out of people carrying stuff for me, or opening doors, or pulling my chair out for me, or, even better, paying for the restaurant bill! Heheh. Yup - all totally and unforgiveably stereotypical, unfair and, in a way, chauvinistic. Apologies.

Anyway - lesson learned. Get the guys to do things - check.

But now what'll I do with the thirty reams of paper in my office?

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #18: I'm bored, or I'm bored, bored bored.... I'm BORED! ... borrrred... To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Got nothin' to write about again. As in totally nothing...

I'm not kidding. I really got nothing to write about today, coz I didn't do anything at the office today.

I think I mentioned before that my group was waiting for something important from the client's - a disk drive full of data that could short-circuit our test data buildup. Well, it arrived and the two data gathering teams (one of them my own team), started poring over the data right away. Problem was, both conference rooms were in use so we didn't have a place to work on it together as a group. I told them to use my little room and got one of them to borrow a projector and connect it to the desktop PC they assigned me, and project the screen on the back wall. My machine was one of the computers in the office authorized to have unsecured USBs. So they could plug the drive in directly. And when we started going through the material, I tried to help, but clearly these guys were so much faster than me. So I left them to it (at least one less person would make the room less crowded) and chatted with the others for a while. But I got the feeling I was bothering them, so I took myself and my boredom, got my little Lenovo netbook from my pack and went to the cafeteria. The cafeteria was somewhat full of people but I didn't know any of them (I guess I'm still not easy with making friends), so I got a hot chocolate and went to the roofdeck, which I heard from the guys in my team was a cool place to hang out.

Though it was a bit windy and cold, I found it pleasant to sit on a ledge, and be all alone with my hot chocolate, netbook and the sunshine. And with my greatcoat nice n snug n warm (a two-year-old knockoff Gucci, but no one would know heehee), it was actually nice to be here.

I felt a little unneeded right now, somewhat like a fifth wheel, and felt lonely. Not very - just a little bit. And I rarely hung out in the cafeteria because I didn't know many people here yet, and knowing me, chances are I wouldn't make too many friends for a while. I always felt like an outcast, though after transition, that changed a bit as I felt more at ease and more like myself inside my skin, but I still felt a bit of an outsider, and still slow to make friends. Oh, it's loads better here in my new job than in my old one. But I am still alone.

The mechanisms that one develops to connect with people, to make friends, etc. are fundamentally the same whether you are a girl or a guy. And if you didn't develop the skills then, it'll affect you still, even if you've transitioned already. Someone will probably say, well, of course! I guess I pinned too many expectations on my transitioning, and was just being naive about it.

And it's so easy to blame the world and your condition, and for your difficulty in connecting to others, and say, "The reason is because I was born differently or wrongly," or "no one understood me and didn't give me a chance." It is oddly comforting to blame others, coz it absolves you of responsibility for your woes - "it's not my fault!" et cetera. But that way lies failure - the failure inherent to those who won't even try. Someone once said to me to quit making myself out as the victim. Of course, it was said to me in a totally different context. But it applies here. Move forward and quit looking at the why's.

Somone, another Bobby (Kennedy, that is) once said, "there are those who look at things the way they are, and ask why. I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?" This Bobbie is ready, and hopefully has enough courage to dream.

You know that quote from that poet John Dunne? "No man is an island?" A more complete quote would read "No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main." Maybe it's time to go visit the mainland. Better start charting my course.

Talk to you guys later.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #19: A minor wardrobe emergency, or No, I don't want aspirin, I need pantyhose! To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Customers come in to the office all the time. Even in an IT organization, it's not unheard of for a customer to visit.

No big deal, really, except that, being on the other side of the managerial fence now, I'm required to schmooze with the client just like the other managers - something I was never asked to do at my old company. Still, I guess I can manage.

Today, I found out that a client was coming, except I only found out when I got in, and I was in office casual... Good thing I had a suit hanging in my office, and that I came in early (like 8:00am), so I caught the boss before her meetings, or I might not have been told.

The client was supposed to arrive before lunch, so I decided to change into the suit right away. It was a new outfit, with the tags still on it, but when I opened the wardrobe bag, I found out I forgot to include the blouse and the slacks I had that matched it, and all that was in the bag was the little mini that came with it when I bought it, and one of my pumps.

I called Sammi and she giggled, saying she didn't see anything was wrong with it. I just gave her a look. She told me to sit tight and that she'll be back.

In less than thirty minutes, she was back from the drugstore and handed me a cheap lavender crewneck tee (xs) and L'eggs microfiber tights. Prior to RLT, I never really noticed that they had pantyhose and tights in drugstores. I don't really wear pantyhose much (nor short skirts for that matter until I started working here), but on the occasions when I had to, I was glad that there was a CVS near my place. Anyway, I asked her if she also bought some aspirin too, coz I can feel a headache coming on. She giggled. Apparently, she thought I was joking.

She shooed me back into the ladies, and I changed into the suit. The tee-shirt was ok, but tights were B's. I had to make do, and pulled them up a bit more. As least the skirt would hide the bunched up waistband of the tights, and it was dark (no VPL). Thank goodness for Sammi. I wouldn't have been able to wear the skirt out of sheer embarassment, but even with the tights, I couldn't stop blushing.

Anyway, the client arrived, and my boss and us seven project managers met with him and made some smalltalk. The manager in charge then went over the progress on the client's project, and the client asked some questions and that was that. I was nervous the whole time. Thank goodness we had a regular non-see-through conference table. Afterwards, our boss and the project manager toured him around our little operation. My boss made me go with them, though. When we got to my little operation, I introduced him to some of my guys and told him about my project (except, of course, for the client name and the confidential details).

Eventually, the client thanked us, shook the project manager's hand, my boss's hand and mine, and left. We broke up and went back to work. Our boss said good work to all of us, and made a point of shaking the project manager in-charge's hand and mine. Eh?

Didn't change outfits for the rest of the day (I didn't feel right putting back the clothes I had on before), and just put my backpack in front of my legs under the table and minimized the number of times I got up and left my room. I even had lunch at my desk.

I'm goin home. Boy, could I use some aspirin.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #20: It's Payday Friday, or Whaddaya mean we're going to karaoke tonight? To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I'm sure there are many different so-called "traditions" that people have in the office. Not so much different from mine, except that my little group has been together for less than two months. And in that short time, you wouldn't have thought that they'd have developed any sort of traditions.

Thing was, these people aren't new to the company. The bulk of my guys came from other projects that were either discontinued or were already completed. So it was a natural thing for these people to carry the "traditions" of their old teams over to mine.

A handful of my team are in their thirties/late forties, and like to go to karaoke bars. They've been trying to keep their old group's tradition alive: going to a KTV (that means "Karaoke TV" if you didn't know) on a payday. They've gone twice before, inviting everyone in the team to join them. I heard that, so far, there have been no takers. I didn't know about this until one of them - the oldest member of my team - knocked on my door a few minutes ago and invited me to join them tonight. (Well, actually, I heard about it a couple of days ago - I heard him talking about it to the other guys, and that he was intending to invite me.) Apparently the guy owned part of this karaoke bar-restaurant in DC, and he's offered to give us a ten percent discount. Seems this guy is very into sing-alongs and karaoke (he even had a guitar in his hand when he knocked, intending to bring it to the bar later).

Anyway, being new to this boss thing, I didn't know what to do, so I decided to err on the side that's safe, and accepted the invitation. I mean, if I said no, would I offend them? How will that affect morale? Or maybe I'm over-thinking this thing yet again, and it doesn't really matter. In any case, best to play safe and accept. Even though it's Karaoke. (Well, that's okay - it's not as if I had a lot of class to begin with... besides, I'm as cornball as anyone.)

As soon as I said yes, he turned to his cohorts and called out, "Bobbie said yes!" At which point, there was a bit of a hubbub and some of the others decided join us. Eh?

Those that joined were four girls out of the eight in my team, plus another guy, which makes our group five girls (that includes me) and four guys.

As those who've read my Danny stories (and the comments) know, I'm very into pop music and I play the guitar. And I think I sing passably well - my sister said I sound like Gloria Estefan when I sing. (Don't tell me you don't know who Gloria Estefan is!) Anyway, hopefully, this'll help me to not make a fool of myself later tonight...

Well, that's it. Not much to tell about today again, but there might be later tonight. I'll try and post something about it tomorrow.

Wish me luck!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #21: Bobbie's playlist, or Isn't that Bobbie Spears? No, it isn't - it's Bobbie Aguilera! To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Well, here I am - twelve noon. Just woke up. Yes, still in my pajamas. Hot chocolate beside my keyboard. And typing up this blogpost.

Yes, indeed, we did go to that karaoke place. And, yes, I made a fool of myself singing on stage.

Yesterday being a payday Friday, I wanted to dress with a less staid look, but definitely not in club clothes. So I picked a pleated cranberry babydoll bra-top dress with a built-in shelf bra, puff sleeves and ruched scoopneck front. I matched it with chic, cream-colored stretch cotton slim-fit pants with a low waist and flare leg, and a 4-1/2 canvass lace-up sandal (my absolute limit, and still be able to walk). It might not be that appropriate in the office, but it was fine when I put my linen boyfriend blazer on top. Hopefully, I didn't stick out too much at the bar.

At about five thirty, we left the office for the KTV bar. I invited Sammie and my boss. But Sammi wanted to get home to her hubby and three-year-old boy while my boss said karaoke wasn't really her speed. Too bad about Sammi, and, well, I just wanted to cover bases with my boss (guess that's my concession to office politics. But my boss was okay - didn't really mind inviting her).

Anyway, two of the girls rode with me and Cricket to the KTV bar, and the others went in another car. We had a private room reserved for us when we got there - a big room with couches and a large TV on one wall. I took my jacket off as it was too warm in the TV room, and the girls said I looked like Jojo.

We had a leisurely dinner and went through the song catalogue while we ate. It was a little bit disappointing as the English selection of songs wasn't as extensive as the Chinese or Korean ones (we couldn't make heads or tails of those) but the English selection wasn't that bad even though it didn't have too many new songs,

The guys who thought up Karaoke Night showed us how to operate the complex remote control and how to build up playlists. So one of the guys volunteered to be first, and then we cajoled one of the girls to go next. For fun, we made up the playlist for her, and had a lot of fun with Weird Al Yankovic parody songs. While we were laughing at "Smells Like Nirvana," one of the guys went to the bar outside and noticed that there were just a handful of couples there. He said we should relocate there so we could use the stage, which we eventually did.

Our team-mate with the guitar went next and stepped up the stage and sang Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton, and he sang pretty well, but his guitar-playing was even better. The head-waiter who was acting as the MC, then called the others one after the other. As it was just us singing, the MC just arranged us to sing out

One thing I noticed from the songs that the girls selected from the guys - Like: True Colors, Piano in the Dark, Reflection, Moon River and Looking Through The Eyes of Love as opposed to Jump, Material Girl, Genie in a Bottle, Little Bit Dangerous and Smooth by Santana. Guess? Nope - the first group of songs were picked by the guys and the second group by the girls.... Now, does that say something about boys or girls in general or just about my boys and girls. Or is this because it's karaoke.

Anyway, when it was my turn, my guys wouldn't allow me to pick my own songs. As a group, they picked some songs for me: Somewhere Down the Road by Barry Manilow. Trueby Spandau Ballet, Turn the Beat Around by Vicki Sue Robinson and The Look by Roxette. I know - but the guys did their best with the selection they had. You also probably noticed that they were stuck at the S-to-T section.

I did my best to do justice to the songs but I had the distinct feeling that I was making an ass (or should I say jenny) of myself. But I had fun, and hammed it up. All I needed was scrambled eggs and toast on the side. There was a monitor facing towards me so I can read the lyrics as well as a bigger one behind me so that the audience can see as well. I didn't have that masculine a voice to begin with, but my voice pathology therapy sessions gave me confidence (although I knew intellectually that the pitch pattern exercises weren't useful in singing).

I had a lot of fun, so after my, ahem, set, I picked a few more songs (and I guess the others let me get away with it because I was their boss. Heehee). I looked at the same section of the list and selected This I Swear by Richard Darbyshire, The Heart of the Matter by Indie Arie and The Power of Two by The Indigo Girls.

Anyway, I enjoyed it a lot, but it seems there was something wrong with the speakers because the music kept on cutting out when I started singing The Power of Two. I didn't have the patience for their technician to trace the problem so I borrowed the guitar and played instead of waiting for them to fix the karaoke machine. Boy, did I miss my 3/4-size Squier Stratocaster (the fret of the guitar I was using was so much thicker than what I was used to), but I did my best.

After I got through with that song, I got a standing ovation (but then, it was just a few couples and my guys). I did a little curtsey and stepped off the stage. The pseudo-MC took back the mike and allowed him to get the opportunity to trace the problem (apparently, someone unplugged something).

Anyway, I let the others have a chance at the mike, but I still enjoyed it. We ended at around two in the morning. All the girls wanted to ride with me, but as Cricket didn't have the room, I could only take two of them. There was a bit of a discussion but they were able to pick which of them would ride with me.

I brought them home and I got to my place after a while. I got to bed at around four. I was dead tired. I have to be frank - I had a lot of fun. I never realized how much I could. I think I wouldn't have had enjoyed all the attention as a guy. Isn't that weird?

Next time around, maybe I can sing my favorite song from the internet.

All My Internet Friends by Amanda French
http://allmyinternetfriends.com/

There are those who say I spend a little too much time online
Sometimes I agree, but on the whole I think I’m doing fine
Click, buzz
I feel strong because
All my internet friends are here with me
Saying Love and information want only to be free
And we’ll take no crap from anyone who says that they know better
We won’t stand for that because we all came here together
We’re remaining interwoven
We’re a net, and we have chosen
To be knotted tightly to each other
You be client, I’ll be server
We won’t ever have to be alone

   
   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #22: Coffee Break, or The Working Girl is going on a one-week hiatus To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Had a bit of a "thing" happen, and it's made me think about taking a bit of a break from the world of the Big Closet. But be cool - the blog (and me) is coming back to the Top Shelf in about a week. In the meantime, have a cup of coffee, or in this case, a mug of hot chocolate, on me.

See y'all in a week!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #23: Sucker for punishment, or Yes, it's cold, it's windy and it's been raining. But I'm jogging anyway To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Yep, I'm back from my self-imposed vacation from writing blogs. And I am enough of an egotist to assume that people missed my blogs. (Yes, indeed, I DO suffer from delusions of self-importance. Heehee)

I guess you're wondering why the short hiatus? Well, it wasn't too complicated: I just needed a bit of a break. Writing blogs for a month and a half is not as easy as one might think - though it's a lot, lot easier than writing a story, it still needs a bit of concentrating, some time alone to write, and to think up ways of making my drab, workaday accounts more than just another recounting of a boring day.

Anyway, guess I just needed a break, and as I was having some... "issues" with some BCTS folks, I thought it an opportune time to give the ole keyboard a rest.

Anyway, I'm baaaack, and picking up where I left off.

As it is a Saturday, it's jogging day. And despite the weather (temp. was pleasantly in the high seventies, but the wind was fairly strong, it's super-cloudy and it had just rained), I decided to push on with the jogging thing. Guess I was just a sucker for punishment.

It also gave me an excuse to wear my new Nike skapri. Yeah, yeah, I know - people say skapris are right up there in style with reindeer sweaters and tie-dyed pants. But I like it. So sue me.

Anyways, with the wind blowing, I decided to wear one of my old henley pullovers (from before my RLT and transition) over my new yoga v-neck.

I had four jogging buddies this time, all from the office, and all girls - there were the two from my previous jog, plus two new ones - girls not from my group.

You would have thought none of them would want to go jogging in this type of weather (the sky threatened more rain), but here they were. I found out Wednesday while in line at the cafeteria that there were people in the office who liked to jog outdoors, but haven't been able to for a while. I guess I let it slip that I was starting to jog regularly now. Anyway, here they were.

I always seem to underestimate girls' predilection to do things together and their non-competitive nature (in things physical, at least) and was surprised at how the five of us jogged in a bunch instead of trying to run each other down. We ended up occupying most of the sidewalk space. Good thing most of the people out were good-natured and just got out of our way, and allowed us to navigate around the puddles and wet spots in the pavement.

We didn't make good speed, though, the girls preferring to talk and gossip, with the exercising almost an incidental thing. Talk was light and inconsequential, with a lot of details about people I didn't know. But I giggled and laughed with them. I mean, how can you not? It was a fun jog.

But in less than thirty minutes, we were almost out of breath. One thing you shouldn't do is to chat while exercising. So, even before the hour was up, we decided to head back in.

I guess I still had some vestiges of my male competitiveness, as I ran a little ahead, not wanting to be the last. And I slipped on a patch of wet pavement. And with everyone so close behind me, we had a five-girl pileup.

None of us were hurt, and we giggled over the little accident. People crowded around us and helped us up. One of the girls whispered to watch out for pickpockets but all our wallets and stuff were untouched.

I gave the two guys who helped me up a smile and a thank you, and we went back, stopping by my favorite coffeeplace for some drinks and a bit of rest. And, despite the little accident and the truncated exercise period, the girls said it was fun and they'd be game to go jogging again next week.

It' a mistake to generalize, I know, but going by my jogging mates, girls don't seem to have a good grasp of priorities: they were more interested in the chatting than in the jogging, which was the whole reason for the morning.

But, you know, now, after getting a bit of rest, I had a thought - I really enjoyed the jogging, and I felt that I got to know these girls a littler better. And if they weren't friends yet, I think we just took a solid step towards friendship. Maybe girls do know how to prioritize, coz girls know what's truly important in life.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #24: Mother's Day, or Another humdrum mother's day dinner with the folks, in other words, it was a wonderful day To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I went to my mom n dad's this Sunday, for Mother's day, and it was just a normal Mother's day. Nice lunch, regular, light family talk. The expected mother's day gifts. Cake and coffee, and then home. Very boring. Very routine. In other words, it was wonderful.

When I started this journey of mine, I was "abandoned" by those I thought would support me, mostly friends, as I didn't tell family until after. The most painful of these "defections" was the one f my ex. She knew how it was for me, and told me that we would be together, even afterwards. But, I guess, when I went through my RLT and eventual transition, it was too much for her and we parted ways ( http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/17208/turning-away-hai... ). Being the coward that I was, I didn't tell the family until after it was done. Those two long years I lived avoiding my family. And the only time I let them know was afterwards. It was a shock for everyone, to say the least, although they probably thought, in hindsight, it was totally possible, even reasonable.

Getting to the point of where I am now was a long and trying passive-aggressive kind of war full of tears, of arguing, of shouting, of lonely nights alone with my pillow instead of my mom to hug, but I am at that point where I can now visit, I can hug and be hugged. It's almost normal now.

And this Sunday, I went home for Mother's Day.

I brought a coffee cake from the bakery near the house that my mom likes, plus a nice off-white cable-knit sweater as my Mother's Day gift. (The cool thing is that it's also in my size so I can borrow it, too, heehee).

And it was a pleasant visit. Nothing fancy - just a sit-down dinner, coffee-and-cake. Lots of small talk (I told them all about my new job plus I showed some pics from work, which I had in my netbook).

During coffee-n-cake and during dinner, my sister sat by me, and looked at me rather intensely (something that she does from time to time, now, ever since the stroke last October. Marvin sez she's like that when she's trying to connect the names of people and things, or is trying to say something that she's having a hard time to put in words). All she ended up saying was "Hi," and "I like your top," and then she hugged me, and Ricky did his old little trick of squeezing his head between us (Ricky's the family dog).

After dinner, out of curiosity, I went upstairs to my old room, and it was like a time warp. My stuff, over seven years old, were all still there, in their old places, neatened up, of course, and everything where they were supposed to be. In the tiny closet were some of my old boy-clothes, freshly laundered by the smell, and by the bed were my old Squier 3/4 Fender Stratocaster and the Cyclone mini-amp.

I asked if I could bring my guitar home to my apartment, but my mom didn't look happy about that. So I just said if I can borrow it from time to time. She gave me a hug. I didn't understand that until a littler later.

Mom and Dad gave me and my sister hugs, and Dad shook Marvin's hand as I went home, and sis and her husband took their little rental car to their motel. (I knew they were in town because of Marvin's business and would be flying back to California the following day. It was nice of them to schedule it for this weekend.) Mom said we can all visit anytime.

It was the most wonderful day in a long time, simply because of its normality. Since my change, I had despaired of having anything normal. Today was normal, so very, unspectacularly normal, and I was so happy I was a little teary-eyed.

As I was driving home, while stopped at a red light, I saw a mom carrying a little girl. The girl was big, but small enough to still be carried, and the mom had her in her arms. I looked into the mother's face, at the gentle contentment, at how she held her baby. And I came to a little epiphany.

I have always whined about my problems, and how badly I want to be normal, to fit in. But one thing I rarely think about is how all this affects my family. Mom and Dad, even sis, missed me. And I wondered how this all affected them. They missed me. Despite who and what I was, they loved me and missed me.

Now I understand about the guitar thing. Maybe I'll come visit more often.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #25: Pretending to work, or Don't bother me - I'm too busy to talk to To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I got in early yesterday morning - I was in the office by eight (It's sorta become like a routine lately, this coming to work early, 'Coz I was a little anxious about our project - in a couple of days, it'll be ready for application testing, and then UAT.), so I decided to surf a while and log on to BCTS and my other favorite sites as well as check my email while I waited for the troops to come in. And lo and behold, one of my BCTS friends, whose name I will not mention, was online and logged on in Yahoo. (See, Aunt Andrea? I didn't mention your name... ooops! heehee)

We had a nice morning chatting on Yahoo, talking about this and that, griping and moaning about such and such, about writing on the internet, about internet friends (and other people), about things happening in our individual worlds, about life. It felt a bit like the usual late night chat sessions in the Stardust/BCTS chatroom, except this is like a chatroom for two.

Initially, I thought to log out by nine, as that's when most of the guys in the office check in. But we really got to talking, and we ended up saying goodbye at about eleven. While we were chatting, people would come by and see I'm on the computer, and seeing how wrinkled my brow was and how intense my concentration was on the keyboard, they would just wave hi. Some, especially those with stuff to drop off or forms to sign would come in. I would mime how busy I was so they would just hand the stuff to sign and move on.

I did, however, notice something - most of the guys would just wave, but girls would prefer to come into my office and get a few words in, even if it's just a "good morning" or "how are you?" It's even worse with those I am close to, as they would actually move around and look over my shoulder at what I'm working on. I would then be forced to hit the ALT and Tab keys to switch windows. And seeing it's a boring Excel spreadsheet, they'd just move on, some of them giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder or sometimes buss my cheek.

I don't know if girls have a narrower or shorter concept of personal space or what, or maybe it's all in my head.

It was fun to fake working. Probably more politically correct than painting or filing nails, too.

Anyway, I was in a somewhat foul mood yesterday and was not keen on chatting with the office guys, so I used the trick again later in the day, even adding a few other touches (like opening some folders and pretending to read) or, in the case of some more persistent people, I pretended to be on the phone as well. I got some alone time and, wonder of wonders, I even got to do some work. Hmmm. This faking being busy works. might be a good trick to practice more often.

Coolness.

'K. Am off to the office now for another day of pretending...

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #26: Got some good news To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

It's always a good thing when you get good news. But, I guess, I can't be blamed for waiting for something bad to happen now. You know how it is - just when something good comes up, something bad usually comes up to counteract it.

Well, I just got a humungous piece of good news.

Yesterday, I got a letter from my bank (yes, apparently snail-mail is still in use). Fearing some other piece of bad news (be truthful - when have you ever gotten any good news from your bank?), I opened the envelope, and read the letter. Well...

According to the bank, given my exemplary credit performance and my conscientiousness in paying off my loan, the bank is waiving my last three loan payments... What?!!! (... and they hope that I will continue to patronize their services...)

Enclosed was a gold MasterCard and all I needed to do was to visit their bank to activate it. Hmmm...

Anyway, since it was already late when I read the letter, I couldn't call them anymore so I fired off an email to them, trying to confirm the news.

I read the confirmation email when I opened my Yahoo mailbox as soon as I got to the office (someone at the bank was working late, I see).

So that means the payment I'm making today will be my last! Woohooo! After ten years laboring under this heavy financial burden, it's like a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Although, to be completely honest, it wasn't all that bad until I had to make new loans for my operation and other medical procedures, which kicked my payables up fifteen-fold. That took some doing as I was afraid that they wouldn't approve the first loan if they knew it was for THE operation, so I fibbed about that. Although I was totally truthful with everything else. (Actually, the other procedures were the more expensive ones.) The financial burden, and not being able to go to my family for help, or even to tell them about it - it was the lowest and scariest point of my life.

Anyway, starting next payday, I'm gonna be free and clear!!!

I was telling Aunt Andrea that I plan to make no new big purchases for at least a month, just to know how not owing anyone anything felt for a while, though I don't know if I'd have enough self control... Hmmm. Maybe I can give that new gold card a bit of a workout... a new computer, a new iPhone, an iPad, that nice outfit I keep looking at, fix up Cricket, a long cruise, new TV, a car for my dad, and, and, and... Wait!!!

I guess if you haven't had much in a long time, things like this make you babble.

My worry now is that, since nothing ever comes for free, I'm wondering what bad thing will happen to offset this... Sorta the everyman karma philosophy, I guess.

Anyway, I just asked my boss for the afternoon off - I plan to pay off my last payment personally. I also called my friend Nikki, and she's also taking the afternoon off to go with me and celebrate. Afterwards, I'm gonna treat for dinner. A reeeaaally expensive dinner.

I'm off to the bank, now. Talk to ya later!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #27: Thought I'd be jogging alone today, or Seems it's my day for indulging in girl clichés To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I woke up late today. Well, actually, I haven't slept much. Still a little too jazzed about the news I received yesterday, I guess.

( http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/19728/working-girl-blog-2... )

Anyway, I was in and out of sleep, and the upshot of it was that I woke up late for my usual 7AM Saturday jog. I hurried to get ready. Still, it took me more than fifteen minutes to do so. I don't like to be such a cliché girl, but looking presentable has become a priority for me for a while now. Also, in a slightly cockeyed way, I was actually a little proud during the moments when I act like the cliché image of a girl. Not a very enlightened way to think and behave, I'm sure, and I will never be a good representative for female liberation, most especially since I am not a real girl.

I guess another girl cliché - I didn't want to wear the same thing I wore before so I rooted around and tried to put together a nice outfit - my new white Nike Air Max trainers, an old pair of fuchsia sweatpants (which I only wore for sleeping), and a old gray-black tanktop over my gray t-shirt bra.

Since there were no pockets in the pants, I wore an old fanny belt to keep my keys, wallet, phone and pepper spray. (Given how... unfashionable fannypacks are, I kept it hidden under the shirt).

I left my place and congratulated myself that I was only twenty minutes behind schedule. Anyway, when I got downstairs, I saw two of my previous jogging partners in the lounge. I had assumed that, given I was late, the girls would have gone ahead. But they waited for me. Apparently, they were trying to call me, but my phone was accidentally switched off. And since they couldn't contact me, they decided to wait a while.

We went on our way, this time making better time than before. We had a good workout, in fact it was such as good workout that all three of us were gasping as we finished the hour. We had a little giggle about that, and went to the coffee place for some drinks and to cool off. Seems we're developing a routine. We were all pooped, so we said goodbye after resting for a bit.

I waved goodbye, and went on home a little leisurely, enjoying the cool breeze and the nice morning sunshine.

As tired as I was, I was still thinking of my good news from yesterday. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell the girls, but I think it would have been inappropriate if I did. So I decided right there and then to tell my mom and dad instead, maybe tomorrow. After all, mom said I had an open invitation.

Mom and dad usually went to the eight AM mass, as most of those in the area did, and would hang around with their friends for a while. To be safe, I decided to go visit at eleven. This means I’d just be on time for lunch. No fool am I. Heehee.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #28: Had to wear glasses, or Whoever heard of having spare contact lenses To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I did my Monday morning routine today. Monday's my weekly, so I finished my slightly messy ten minute routine (had to use the smaller one today as I skipped last week), and then the normal morning things - bathroom, shower n shampoo, toothbrush, makeup, clothes and hair. But since I was hurrying too much, I accidentally tore one of my contact lenses when I was cleaning them prior to putting them on. At least I think I did - I tore a lens before and it felt just like this - it hurt when I put the left one on, like there was something caught underneath. It might not actually be torn, but I couldn't really tell. So I decided to play safe and wore my "emergency" horn-rimmed glasses to work.

Hoping I didn't look too dorky, I ignored my glasses and tried to act normally. There were the inevitable comments, like "nice glasses" or "they look good on you," as well as me needing to explain why I'm wearing them. Plus the inevitable four-eyes jokes (at least they were good-natured this time.) Other than that, nothing was different.

I called my eye doctor and he said to get weekly disposable J&J Acuvues until I can go over to his clinic and pick up my prescription and a spare pair. I never even knew people would buy spare pairs. (I could have gone and get it from the CVS near the office and not schlep on over to his clinic, but I wouldn't get it covered by my medical... you know how it is).

Anyway, like I said, nothing was different. Or at least it started out that way.

Maybe it's all in my head, but there were more people smiling my way, and I never had to get cross today. At least I think so. I even tried to do my "angry look" at Pat just to see. But all it did was make her giggle.

On most men, glasses make them look dignified, or authoritative. In a way, even nerds have it good - people assume they're smart even if they're not, just 'coz they wear glasses. In high school, I got beat up some because of them, but I was still the smart guy.

Girls with glasses - they are cute. In that way, girls have it easy. And, y'know, I was getting away with murder the whole day. I discovered a trick early on - being neat and clean usually does the trick. Unless you look like a doorknob, a plain girl can look good so long as she is clean and neat-looking. (And that no one can make a mistake by going minimal, otherwise, you run the risk of looking like Ugly Betty...)

Seems I discovered a new trick, Sometimes, it's fun being a girl. Maybe I shouldn't avoid wearing my glasses anymore. I ain't that boy now.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #29: It's dangerous to assume, or You're sending me where?!? To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

It was just another routine day yesterday - everyone working on their stuff, and me walking around from time to time, looking over everyone's shoulder.

It's not that I didn't have anything to do, but since most of the hard decisions were already done (things to do with file structures, screen formats, the algorithms and formulae to use, the number of decimal places for numeric fields and rows even...), most of what we were doing now was the grunt work. Lately, I find my days filled mostly by proofreading the draft documents that my own team was churning out (boy, don't computer people have the worst grammar skills...). That and filling out my quota of red tape, daily progress reports and getting up from time to time and looking over everyone's shoulder.

We were weeks ahead of schedule, even by the boss's truncated deadline, and we are slowly inching towards that next momentous point in an IT project - system and (soon after that) user acceptance testing, or UAT. I should probably get someone to contact the client and start arranging things soon. Might even get to see Texas Girl again.

Anyway, at around two or so, Sammi comes rushing in and sez there's a meeting being called by the boss in fifteen minutes (yes, I did see the boss come in about twenty minutes before Sammi came in, and looked even more harassed than Sam).

Though I didn't have anything up in the air, I shouldn't have worried, but I guess it's in my nature to panic.

So there we were in the boss's office (no projector on the desk, which was ominous in that it wasn't the normal thing), all the managers and the boss sitting around making a bit of nervous chit-chat. I was the last to come in, and as soon as I found a place to sit (still had to consciously cross my legs at the ankles - that particular feminine motion not yet coming automatically to me), we started.

Anyway, after a bit of banter, the boss segued in talking about smaller budgets and contracting projects and workforces, and then sez that I was going to have another manager assigned to me to help me in my project. Whoa!

Well, needless to say, alarm bells rang in my head. The boss points to one of the junior managers, saying that he would be helping me out with my team. At that point, Sammi buzzes in, saying there's an important call. Our boss decided to step out to take the call so that we could continue the discussion. Sammi stays, probably to take the minutes of the meeting down.

Anyway, this wet-behind-the-ears snotnose starts talking about problems that newbie project managers usually got into, and that he would have a hard time turning my numbers around and getting my project back on schedule.

So I brought my laptop out, popped up my progress reports, and showed them how far ahead of schedule we were. The SOB said that the numbers might not be realistic, and maybe my group was due for a reorg. I wanted to slap the silly grin off his face and make his head spin. I dared him to point out where the numbers where inaccurate. He didn’t even bother to read the reports.

One of the slightly more senior guys took the laptop from me, put it on the boss's desk and started to pore over the charts, and me and Mr. Snotnose got into the beginnings of an argument. I felt picked on. I knew we were doing good work, and here's Mr. Johnny-come-lately saying I'd done wrong.

The other guy sez that he couldn't see much wrong nor could he guess where I padded any numbers, if at all. He quizzed me a bit on our status reports, and I felt more picked on. But after digesting what I told him, he said we were doing okay. For which I was grateful.

Anyway, the boss comes in and sez that the decision was final. The company was putting up another helpdesk-slash-call center unit to manage the call center requirements of a new client of the company's (in the business, these clients are called "BPO's"). It's going to put up an offshore unit in the Far East, manning it with locally-sourced agents.

Well, I was thinking, this was great news for the company, but what has that got to do with us? Specifically, what has that got to do with my group?

Well, apparently, she had just attended a ManCom meeting at the main HQ in New York, and had just gotten in. Seems the company was trying to man the new operation using existing staff, and though most of the key positions were filled in, they wanted another person to oversee the setup and the initial organization/reorg of the new unit. Weeks before, she had suggested me, that, even though I was fairly new, I did have ISO Auditor and CMMI credentials. And word had come down, and that I was approved.

Eh?

And in order to make this happen, I had to get my project finished up, or at least to UAT level. That's why she was assigning another person to help me speed up work even more. So she had decided to assign her most junior project manager to be my assistant.

I couldn't help but grin evilly at Mr. Snotnose, making him turn redder than he already was. That'll show him to assume, and to shoot off his mouth.

I knew it was bad, but I couldn't resist it. I said to the boss that I think I needed someone who wasn't so inexperienced. That earned some nervous laughs and giggles, which puzzled the boss a bit.

At that moment, I wanted to cram all of this office politics crap right up Snotnose's ass. It was rare that I would be this angry (at least, I think so). Most times, I'm as meek as a mouse. But I guess when someone "gets my goat" as Dad says, I couldn't really control it.

Anyway, the guy who was reading my reports volunteered to sub, and it was all set.

I was tentatively scheduled to leave on June, but it would depend on a lot of things. So, I was supposed to check on my team's progress and to report everything during our regular Monday meeting next week.

Well, after we had adjourned, we all left the boss's office (Except for Sammi. The little wink she gave my way made me giggle a bit.)

My new "assistant" and I adjourned to the conference room, where we pored over my laptop and I gave him a backgrounder on my stuff. Mr. Snotnose came in, and tried to join in on our discussion, perhaps in his own heavy-handed way, he was trying to apologize. But I wasn't having any, and I ignored him. When he thought I couldn't see, my "assistant" waved Snotnose out, and mouthed something like "later."

I had an idea about that phrase, "a woman scorned," et cetera, et cetera. I never even knew it could apply to me in this way. Are girls that vindictive? It is tempting to think so, and, I suppose, being more emotionally aware, women would naturally be more emotionally volatile as well. I wonder if that's true. And if it is, is that true of me, too. Well, at this moment, yes, it is.

Women and office politics - I've always thought that would be a volatile combination.

Anyway, got lots to do today... Traveling to the Far East. Cool!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #30: Working late, or Learning to sleep in my office chair To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Well, here I am. One AM and still in the office. Me and the guys have been working late at the office for a couple of days now, rushing some of our deliverables which we thought we had about two or three more weeks before they come due.

Anyway, I told the team about my needing to leave the country for a while. I was up-front with them, and said I had to leave for about three to four weeks next month to work on a project overseas, and the boss might assign a temporary replacement for me. I knew it was tricky, as some of them might resent it (my leaving the team, or me going overseas), so I played it cool and just told it plainly - the company was going to put up another call center unit in the Far East, and I was to help draw up and finalize the operational procedures, and, in order to save on costs, they were trying to use current staff. They had tapped me for this and were also recruiting for ten additional people to act as senior or mentoring call agents (which was open to all personnel who wanted to apply).

Anyway, the upshot of it was that someone will be taking over for me at around June. Taking a cue from Stephen Covey's gambit of throwing down a challenge, I put this to the team and suggested we do double-time and see if we can make that unnecessary.

I dangled the prospect of overtime pay, performance bonuses, AND a little consolation prize of a weekend stay at a resort (pre-approved by my boss, of course, and only at a local resort, otherwise the incentives budget would have been wiped out).

This galvanized everyone, and the test team leads started drawing up a super-aggressive test schedule, and my team started handing out writing assignments. I had to go into, ahem, some spirited "negotiations" with them, grounding our intentions in what is do-able, and we came out with a plan that everyone signed on to.

And after two consecutive days of starting our workday early and working late into the night, we reaped benefits. Yesterday, we finished running all of the primary test scripts and we finished ALL of our testing. Today, we finished up all the functional fixes (leaving most of the cosmetic or layout-related ones for later), and did the stress testing, and my team finished the first drafts of all the user guides and system documents. That means what's left would be documenting the tests, performing the user acceptance testing with the client and final edits of the manuals. Piece of cake.

Late this afternoon, I asked Sammi to put me in touch with the client and I told them about the possibility of starting UAT as early as next week, which made them happy, and we talked about the arrangements for it.

Well, we're mostly done, and just winding down, gettin' ready to go home, and I'm logged on to the chatroom, not saying anything - just lurking, and winding down myself.

The two days have really taken its toll, and it's a bit refreshing to see my coworkers in a different light. Most are sprawled around the office in various stages of pooped, but we got it done. Sammi is taking a catnap on the boss's couch, one of the girls curled up underneath the desk apparently asleep, one of the team leads was leaning against the wall with a vending machine cup of coffee, and I kept getting up to walk around, chatting with anyone who seemed to have nothing to do. I was nursing a little stress-induced headache so I made do with chatting with them. (I had fallen asleep in my office chair several times - guess I'm starting to get used to sleeping in it.)

I think girls handle stress a bit better than guys since they find it easier to commiserate with each other, or dissipate the stress by talking gossip while working and, in that way, get the energy and motivation to continue on. Guys would rather internalize, and go quiet as they worked, becoming more and more focused on finishing the task at hand. After several snappish answers, I decided to leave most of the guys alone and just hang with the girls.

The guys seemed to finish a lot more of the work, most finishing their assigned tasks earlier than the girls. The ones who finished early I shooed away home so they could get some rest, thanking them for their hard work. In a way, I can identify with that - wanting to finish something, to put "paid" to something, and get a feeling of personal accomplishment that way. But nowadays, I seem to prefer having a feeling of belonging to something, or belonging to a group instead of personal achievement (though not completely, of course). In that way, I guess I can identify with the things that people do to cement them together in groups - putting another ahead of one's self, of doing communal things. I guess that sort of feeds into the half-truth that women like to gossip - knowing stuff about each other is another way of being closer, or telling someone how you feel, what you think - it's all part of it.

Guess that's stereotyping again, but to be totally truthful, I guess my attitudes didn't radically change all that much, only in minor ways, and not in any fundamental way. I have to wonder (as I have wondered numerous times before) if I was, fundamentally, a girl in my attitudes, or was it that men and women, in their basics, are actually the same. I'd like to think the latter, actually, because there is a bit of an attraction to the idea that everyone is basically just like everyone else. 'Coz if that's so, then there really is no barrier for people to get along.

Anyways, time to go home. I'm sleeping in tomorrow, so no jogging.

Nite nite, everyone!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #31: I just read an article in Yahoo, or I can't stand it anymore! I'm shopping! To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Yes, yes, I know it’s too soon to post another blog, so soon after I posted my last one. (See http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/19842/working-girl-blog-3... ).

But after I posted that blog, I logged on to Yahoo!, just winding down before going on home. (We were still at the office, all because of this furshlugginer assignment that I got. See http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/19796/working-girl-blog-2...
).

Anyway, while I was there, I read an article entitled 'Top 10 Iconic Dresses.' (See http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/beauty/the-top-10-most-iconic... )

It was all about the ten most iconic dresses of the past fifty years. There was Audrey Hepburn in an awfully sexy, slinky LBD from the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's, Marilyn’s Happy-birthday-Mr.-President gown, Madonna's wedding dress outfit at the first MTV awards, J-Lo's OMG Grammy dress, Diane Von Furstenberg's wrap dress, Jackie Kennedy's inaugural gala dress, Cher's mardi gras-like costume at the Oscar's, Bianca Jagger's dress at Studio 54's opening, Edie Sedgwick in her cute mini-plus-leotards and Gwyneth in pink at the Oscar's.

Most of these were a little before my time (except for J-Lo's and Gwyneth's), but, looking at the pictures, they were all very pretty and sexy dresses, and I'm sure all of them will still be okay to wear today, though maybe only Lady GaGa would wear Cher's outfit without needing to be dared. They were all so feminine and pretty, EVEN Madonna's outfit and Cher's.

And I got to thinking that the outfits that women get to wear makes up a big chunk of the feminine mystique, and I am sure it is one of the bigger things that most of us here at BCTS are so fascinated with.

As all of us left the office for the night (Cricket and I gave three of the girls a lift home, as it was near 2AM already), I continued thinking about it. I thought of the reasons why I wanted to switch genders, as I have done so many, many times before. Having to switch again to stereotypes, as it was the only way I could think of gender subjects, I pondered the question, with only half of my attention on my driving, the directions that the girls gave me and the conversation that was happening all around. I pondered. Even when I got home, I still pondered.

Was it about the physicality of the thing, the female accoutrements (clothes and so on), the position one is afforded to in society (the role of the nurturer and friend as opposed to the conqueror and provider) the ability to give vent to my emotionality, or to indulge in those things that the supposed "softer" sex are entitled to?

Truth be told, I think, for me, it's for all of these reasons, with a portion of the reason being that I did not find acceptance in the world as male, and maybe being female, I would be more accepted.

Whatever the reasons, the die is cast now. And as I make my way in this world, I try to find joy in my new reality. And, for my day-to-day, I try to have fun, even though that's so hard to do on some days.

One of the ways to have fun, at least for me, is in indulging in feminine clothes. The more feminine, the more fun. Although, it's always a very sharp edge to straddle - trying to dress and look okay or making all the errors Ugly Betty does. True, even true girls, not just TS and TG girls, have problems in acquiring a working fashion sense. But in trying on clothes, buying them, and imagining how feminine, pretty, and good-looking you are in the mirror and thinking these thoughts - that's fun.

Truthfully, finding your fashion choices validated by your peers is also satisfying, but the trying on, the buying and the daydreaming and the fooling yourself on how pretty you look - I guess that's a different level of "fun."

In the article I read, the advertisement catchphrase that Diane Von Furstenberg coined when she came out with her wrap dress ("feel like a woman - wear a dress") echoed in my mind. I decided to break my promise of not spending too much for a while. I'm gonna go out later and break in my new gold card and buy an outfit or four. I'm gonna call my officemates and see if they want to go with me. Hope they haven't gone to bed, yet.

Anyway, what are you doing staying up this late?! Go to bed! (heehee. joke!)

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #32: The Abortive Shopping Trip, or Apparently, window shopping is expensive, too To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Those who've been reading the blog probably know I was up 'til almost four am Saturday morning, 'coz I and my office coworkers needed to do some overtime work Friday. We knocked off at about one, maybe one-thirty in the morning, and, being one of those with a car, I offered to bring home three of the girls. Anyway, after dropping them off, I got home at about three-thirty or four in the morning.

But that was okay. I was planning to skip my Saturday jog, anyway, and to sleep late. I ended up getting out of bed at around eleven.

My officemates and I had decided to meet up later and indulge in a bit of shopping therapy, as a sort-of reward for a couple of days' hard work. True, my spending budget hadn't really grown any, but I do have my new gold Master Card, and I fully intended to give it a test run.

Thing was, after years of forced-frugal living (not that I was rich before, y'know), I balked at the prices of the stuff I had always dreamed of buying, now that I was gettin' out from under. I didn't feel altogether happy about shelling out $500 for a pair of Gucci or Jimmy Choo shoes (mind you, these were the low-end ones), or $1,000 to $1,200 for Gucci handbags.

For those out there without money measles, perhaps my concerns were laughable, but I'm just a working girl, and I need to count my pennies.

So I ended up mostly window-shopping, and jotting down the prices and the stuff I saw that I might want to buy some other time on my iPhone, while the other girls had at it. I didn't want to put them down as the stuff they were buying were the usual stuff I buy.

Well. Hmmm. That sounds awfully snooty of me. So let me explain. This little shopping trip was supposed to be a special one, and it was for me, as I never really get much of a chance to shop with others, but more than that, I thought this was when we would be shopping in the more exclusive places that I never get to shop in. Instead, we went roaming in Lake Forest Mall, the one near the office. I convinced them to try Mazza Gallerie, which was just a smidge more upscale. Between the two, I got to jot down a lot of stuff I can buy later. So, for me, it was mostly a productive window-shopping trip.

When you window-shop with friends, even if you don't get the good feeling of buying something and bringing it home, it was almost as fun, even if you just look at stuff. Which was what I thought it would be.

Anyway, with all the stuff that the others were getting, I couldn't resist buying at least some stuff. And although none of what I got were Dolce, Jimmy Choo, Ralph Lauren, Gucci, or Vera Wang, I thought they were okay: a cute, ivory empire-waist tank dress, and one of the girls suggested getting a dark, wide elastic belt, which I can wear just below my boobies. The belt would change the look of the dress enough so I can treat it like a different outfit altogether.

I also got a couple bra and panty sets plus a pair of Nine West lace-up sandals and a pair of tan cuff boots with three-and-a-half heels (sorry, couldn't resist).

We finished up at around seven and I brought them to a cafe on 18th for dinner before we went our separate ways.

Y'know, even though I didn't buy much, all in all, I spent a little less than four hundred. So I did end up having to use the new card. Apparently, window shopping can be expensive, too...

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #33: A presentation to the bosses, or I wished I had some Valium To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Sorry, no jogging blog today. Maybe later. Right now, I'm blogging about last Thursday.

Wednesday morning, my team leads and I put our heads together to make my project status presentation to some of the bosses which I had to present the following day. I wanted it in PowerPoint - 8 screens long: title page, agenda page, a two-page description of the application, a one-page status of the testing schedule, a one-page status on the remedial fixes, a one-page status of the deliverables, and a one-page summary.

Everyone was worried and said it was incredibly short, but I wanted the presentation to come off as spare and elegant and straight to the point. Though they disagreed, they did it my way. As they were working on it, I started gathering the word files, excel files and did a lot of screen-caps of the application itself into one folder.

Before the end of the day, we were all done. The reason it took so much time was 'coz of lots of interruptions (after all, work continues despite this little side project). I transferred everything to my laptop, and put a couple of shortcuts on the computer desktop - one for the presentation and one as a shortcut to the folder with all the files and screenshots.

After everyone left for work, I stayed a little bit late, studying and practicing, and trying to know my stuff back to front. I then went home and practiced some more.

When I got in the following day, Sammi said we were having the meeting in the small conference room. I about-faced and headed to CX-1, along with maybe five of the other managers. When we got there, the other managers were already there along with my boss, and five other senior-looking people in business suits. Gulp.

The boss introduced the newcomers, who turned out to be the senior muckety-mucks for marketing, regional sales, system audit and the VP head of BPO operations. Boy, did I need a Valium just now.

My nervousness was obvious. The BPO head reached over and put his hand over mine, and said I had nothing to worry about - they were just there to listen. Anyway, the meeting went ok - not spectacular, but okay. I got peppered with a lot of questions about the details of the project, and what we were able to accomplish so far, and I was about to puke from nervousness. The VP kept catching my eye and making patting gestures, signaling to be cool.

The meeting ended ok, and the head of systems audit made the final comment that the project was adequately managed and was quite amazed at how far the team had gone, and how far ahead of schedule it was. Before my smile could meet at the back of my head, the head of sales said that he's surprised at the effort being done for such a simple project. My smile faded with that statement.

Before I could recover from that, the head of audit said that he will start looking into our documents right away and will green-light my boss if our unit could begin using our templates as standard.

Seems my report was just pro forma - to see if it would affect the project much if I was indeed going to be pulled out for the three weeks I would be away. Just standard procedure. All that worry for nothing.

Anyway, the VP smiled at me and gave me a wink. He turned to my boss and said I should be encouraged to take Friday off. As they all filed out the VP smiled again and told me, 'good work.'

Everyone filed out and the others gave me slaps on the back and a couple high-fives before going out. I stayed and decompressed. All that adrenalin was hard on a girl. I just stayed in there for maybe a half hour. I needed to change my blouse as it was all clammy.

That VP was cute.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #34: A pleasantly slow day, or Trying to have lunch in the park To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I've been having several busy days recently. But, I guess all the hard work the team has put in is starting to pay off, as most of us do not have much to do. Well, actually, we have lots to do, still, but we are in the boring part of the project now. Tomorrow, or maybe Monday, we are expecting some people from the client company to visit and check our work, as well as to run several test scripts (preparatory to us going to their HQ to do the UAT and, eventually, the parallel run). We had emailed the scripts to them yesterday, and they looked it over and sent back some modifications that the test team is looking at now.

I myself had little to do, and spent most of the morning chatting with the guys and reviewing the test reports. We had a couple of major bombs but most of the problems were cosmetic, which the programming team was taking care of. Whew. Could've been a lot worse.

Now the atmosphere in the office is so much more laid back. What little pressure there was was mostly on the documentation team, as they had to contend with the red ink and chicken scratches I covered their hardcopy drafts with (my penmanship leaves a lot to be, ummm... desired).

Anyway, as I told everyone in the chatroom, the temperature was in the high seventies (I was trying to be metric so I said high 20s/low 30s). I had this idea of getting away a bit - I wasn't indispensable in the office at the moment, (hah! indispensable - what a laugh) - sitting in a park and having a sandwich or something. As I didn't know the neighborhood real well, I tried googling for a nice street park, and it wasn't too helpful. So I went to Sammi, told her what I wanted to do, and she said that there was one about a ten minute drive away. I asked if I could, like, walk it, but she said it was better to drive.

Well, in for a pound et cetera. I went to the cafeteria and bought a sandwich, a little hot chocolate in a cup with a lid, a banana and a box of juice to go.

I borrowed one of my guys' newspapers and went.

It was a bit chilly but I resolutely left my jacket in Cricket (I DID bring my pepper spray, though - a bit of big-city paranoia, I guess), looked for a relatively clean bench, sat down, and had lunch. I guess I still have a touch of that stubbornness that the Cabots are known for, 'coz I was shivering juuuust a little bit, but I decided o remain resolute and enjoy my lunch, damnit!

When I was down to the juice and the banana, and trying to vainly read my newspaper, I looked up and across the little path and saw a girl, like me also in office clothes, and also shivering a bit. She had an apple and a book to my newspaper and banana.

We caught each other's eye, and after a few moments, we burst out laughing. We started chatting and it seemed that we had the same idea. She worked at a bank in the opposite direction from my office. After maybe fifteen or twenty minutes more we decided to go back to work. We threw our trash away, walked to our cars (yep, she also drove to the park, heehee), and exchanged phones.

I guess for girls, it's much easier to make casual friends. Though I wasn't that gregarious when I was a guy, I knew it's not that easy for guys to be casual-friendly with strangers. Well, whatever it was, I'm glad I now have a new, casual lunch-in-the-park friend.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #35: No jogging today, or I'm a pink warrior! To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I had skipped my regular jog the last couple of weekends, and I decided not to jog today as well. There was a charity race happening, called the Komen Race For the Cure, and I had told my would-be running buddies that, because of it, I decided to forgo this week's jog since the streets would be full of "real joggers" and the traffic would be heavier than usual due to the rerouting.

Well, that wasn't completely the truth, since the run was on Constitution Avenue - maybe fifteen to twenty blocks away from my place. But any excuse so I can skip my exercise, right? Heehee.

Yesterday, I had told the girls this, and they said we should join. The Komen Foundation (they had actually changed their name, but they were still known best as the Komen Foundation) was one of the largest anti- breast cancer foundations, and its annual run was fairly popular in these parts. It was for a good cause AND we'd get to wear cute, pink t-shirts and we get to call ourselves "Pink Warriors." A 5K run was pretty grueling, especially for us weekend runners, but three of my five on-and-off running buddies agreed to try, and said, even if we don't finish, it was still for a good cause, it didn't cost much, and we get to bring home nice pink t-shirts. LOL

When she visited our work area, my boss heard us scheming, and she said that she'd be there, as well. She and her husband were sponsors, and though she wouldn't be running, she and her husband would be on the sidelines handing out t-shirts, or giving the runners water et cetera.

In the end, it was decided that the girls would be running in the race and I would be with my boss, helping out as part of the volunteer crew. My girls gave me commiserating nods, and said they understood. (There was another run next week, but we decided that this would be the one we'd join)

In actuality, I didn't really want to run. I had tried to puzzle out why, and, as neurotic as it was, I realized that the reason I didn't want to run was because I would feel like a fake or an impostor.

If ever there was a cause that women should champion, it would be this. And, perhaps, because of this, I felt I wasn't worthy. Yes, yes, I know - no real reason for it, but that's how I felt. I had looked at my modest, hormone-created babies in the mirror last night, and I felt like a fake. Who was I to have an opinion about breast cancer? For most others who have transitioned, they revel in their new feminine physicality, but, as my therapist has explained, there are a few that, despite their desperate need to live as, and be acknowledged as, women, they still felt that what was achievable through surgery and chemicals wasn't real.

I have come to realize I am one of these unfortunates, and I will constantly battle these feelings of pretending, or of being a fake, until I come to trul accept and understand who and what I was now. Anyway.... whatever it was, it just meant that I didn't want to run.

So this excuse - of needing to go with the boss - was convenient, 'coz this meant that I wouldn't need to explain why I really wasn't running.

So. I was there earlier than the scheduled 8AM run, and quit surfing and stowed my netbook in Cricket and locked her up when they asked all the volunteers to ingather at around 7-7:30.

I had a lot of fun, and got to come out of my shell a little bit in order to talk to the runners and the other volunteers. I was also tickled... ummm... pink, when some of the guys (and a few of the girls, but in that girl-friend way) said I looked cute in my Pink Warrior t-shirt. Some apparently thought I was a kid, but I was used to that and didn't feel too bad about it - usually, something like that would make me feel down, but I guess the fun and excitement sort of washed those bad feelings away.

My jogging buddies finished the run, but they were totally wiped. They hung around a bit and rested while they waited for me to wrap up my volunteering so I could drive them home.

So, here I am at a McDonald's in my pink t-shirt, having a bite and writing this blog. I've decided to veg out in the apartment for the rest of the day so I called my therapist to cancel and, as usual, I had to explain why. I'm sure she'll be calling my home phone later to confirm I was there. That's okay - I was used to that.

She said she was glad that I enjoyed myself, and that she'd catch me next week.

It was an okay day today. Maybe later I'll see if my best friend was free, and see if we can go and have dinner out.

Bobbie-the-pink-warrior, out!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #36: Casting about for something to write, or How I found out about booty cleavage To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Sorry for the delay in posts. And though it's an easy excuse to just say, I've been busy, the fact of the matter was was that, yes, that time has come - that moment that I've been dreading - that moment when there isn't anything that's even remotely interesting to blog about.

So, instead of talking about the slow couple of days at the office, where in fact exactly ZERO interesting things have happened, I guess I'll talk a bit about last Sunday. At least that's less boring than the stuff that's been happening at the office. (And if you should decide to tune out before finishing this reeeally long, rambling and very un-interesting blogpost, that's okay. lol)

This weekend just past was a payday weekend, when people succumb to Payday Fever, where wage earners such as yours truly find the urgent need to spend the little pittance that they get every fifteenth and thirtieth of the month instead of yielding to the voice of reason and putting away a little, or at least make it last until next payday.

But I am a girl possessed; I who have been trapped in a financial gulag for nigh on forever am set free... Spend! Spend I shall until my wallet and my purse cry, "yield!" (So. How's my version of slam poetry? Lol)

Now. As I was, ahem, saying...

Prior to parting ways last Saturday, the girls that I was with convinced me to go shopping with them. (Remember? Payday Fever?) But, instead of doing it on that Saturday itself, because of that Komen Run thing, we couldn't. So we were doing it on Sunday, instead.

Anyway, after my Sunday mass, I went and met up with them in what I read somewhere was appropriate clothes-shopping attire: loose clothing that was easy to get in and out of (preferably a one-piece), sandals or even flip-flops, and no jewelry, or at least cheap pieces that you won't hurt if they get lost or something.

So I had picked a fairly old, blousy empire-waist flowery sundress with a pretty short hemline (but for lil' petite me, it was comfortably above-the-knee), no jewelry except a necklace of big plastic beads I got from some novelty store during my Sarah McLachlan phase about five years ago, a couple of plastic bangles, my old Steve Madden slip on sandals (and, you need not ask, it had high-heel wedges), and my Abbi NY messenger-bag purse.

Anyway, we met up at Mazza Gallerie and proceeded to "case the joint." But in the end, the girls decided to shift malls - Pat said the place was a little too rich. I, totally clueless, nodded and agreed.

In truth, not having any innate fashion sense, I have always relied on two principles in "replicating" a fashion sense: first - not to rely on my not-yet-existing tastes and not risk putting together outfits myself but copy, instead, the outfits of people around me, or, at the very least, pictures I see in magazines, etc.; and, second, buy complete outfits (as opposed to individual pieces) from signature or couture brands (the theory being, because they're signature brands, they should look good). The overriding thing here was to not rely on what I thought looked good.

Since I started living full time in my current form, I learned that dressing is not easy. Not the mechanics of the dressing, although I had a lot to learn on that score as well. As to the first "principle" - I have learned to not just pick a nice looking outfit, but to make sure that the person wearing the outfit is of a certain type. I could dream about wearing outfits that a Beyonce, a Gwyneth Paltrow, or a Claudia Schiffer would wear, and look as fabulous as they did, but try as I might, I'd probably just look laughable. I learned a little trick - I'm thin, I'm short, and have an ethnic cast to my features (due to my south Italian roots on my mom's side). So, over the years, I've sort of picked celebrities that seem to match my general "look." I'm not so egotistical that I think I look like these celebrities - far from it. But I think we are of a certain general "cast." Off the top of my head, those who seem to work for me include the things that Brittany Murphy, Eva Longoria, Mila Kunis, Lacey Chabert, Salma Hayek and (don't ask why as she's as Caucasian as can be) Natalie Portman wear. Lately though, I've had a lot of good luck with the outfits that Carla Gugino, Rachel Bilson and Vanessa Hudgens come out in.

As to the second "principle," well, besides being the quickest way to the poorhouse, my theory goes, if it's been designed by a good designer, there's a fifty-fifty chance that it's a good outfit, despite whatever my admittedly-off-kilter fashion radar would say. But the cost...

Early on, instead of buying stuff I clearly couldn't afford, I've tried to replicate this high couture stuff, instead. (I became a fan of the show "Look for Less" on cable's Style) But if I could afford the real thing, I'd buy the real thing. Yeah, it's difficult. I seem to have better luck with the first principle.

I'm sure you guys are saying, well, Bobbie isn't telling me anything new: isn't all that self evident? Ahhh! That's where you're wrong. Have you ever seen those people who want to go dressed make the mistake of dressing in that certain way that makes them look like bad-looking transvestites? (No value-judgments here nor any intention of casting aspersions at anyone, but I'm sure you know the stereotyped look that I'm referring to). The thing is, rather than trying to match the ideal in your mind, shoot for what is closer to what's real. Another thing - don't completely trust what your own tastes - as much as possible, follow the outfit you've settled on exactly as you saw it. Also - going for what feels safe usually means it's wrong - like I originally preferred wearing long skirts, high-neckline blouses with long sleeves, et cetera, because that's what felt safe. Let me say that the kindest comment I got was that I looked like a schoolmarm. So I took a leap of faith and copied an outfit I saw verbatim, and ended up wearing my first non-schoolmarmish dress - a simple dress with a hem just above the knee, square neck and short-short cap sleeves. I felt my knees strangely exposed and my exposed upper chest uncomfortably cold. I was preparing for negative reactions, but no one commented, and a couple of my workmates actually said I looked good. For almost a month, I fought my instincts and tried not to wear what felt comfortable and safe to me but tried for wearing what my co-workers around me seemed to prefer wearing. A most difficult month, but most instructive...

There was a former patient of my therapist that I got to know - She was also TS, and when I first met her, I took her to be a natural woman, albeit an older, matronly one. The only thing that gave her away was her voice. And for the couple of months that she was with my therapist, I got to know her a bit. She admitted to plastic surgery on her face, and that she did a variety of my first "principle," except with her, her celebrity was Carol Burnett... Now, that's not the most gorgeous of celebrities, but what floored me was that she said this woman was the closest to her look and build that was even halfway attractive (not that I didn't think Carol Burnett was attractive, but she wasn't the stereotypical image of beauty). She explained that she actually preferred an image like Ann-Margret, but she would rather shoot for someone less blatantly beautiful and therefore more realistic, preferring to pass as authentic instead of fool herself into thinking clothes and make-up can magically turn her into the redheaded bombshell of her dreams. It was my emulating her that allowed me to make up my own little gimmick.

Oh! I actually a third "principle," which goes, "dress simply, and, at all times, look clean, groomed and neat." True, if you can pull off a goth or a grunge look, then you have better fashion radar than I, and probably looked gorgeous to begin with. But it remains - you can't go wrong by looking clean-cut, groomed and neat. Even a plain girl can look attractive so long as she's groomed and neat.

Over the years, by practicing these "principles," I slowly developed a fashion sense of a sort. I liken it to math or algebra etc. Unlike those fortunate people that seem to innately understand the mathematic principles behind the formulas that school tries to ram down our throats, I memorized these formulas, and I was able to do math by following the formulas unquestioningly. In the same way, I learned a kind of fashion sense by rote. I don't really know why hems cut on a bias are "adventurous," or why silver jewelry matches black more than gold. I just follow them rules. And if you do 'em often enough, it becomes automatic. Just like memorizing multiplication tables.

Anyway, back to the shopping. As I was saying, I didn't have this innate fashion sense that born-women seem to have, and have relied on these little tricks. But, when you have someone else with you while you shop, you're able to ask things like, "what do you think of this outfit" and "does this look good on me," and the inevitable question, "does this make me look fat?"

Having feedback gives you a way to confirm what you're thinking and, more importantly, counter what you think was okay but actually isn't. It was educational. And, more than that, it was fun. As I thought it would be, shopping with others is preferable to shopping alone. Another side benefit here - I can better do the second principle with this running feedback, and allowed me to replicate the signature fashion combos I had my eye on using stuff from Walmart or Target. Hopefully I can do more of these in the future, and build up my "posh" stuff with these high-fashion lookalikes.

You know, despite wearing girl stuff exclusively for sometime, I still like it, and though the novelty of it all has worn of just a tad, putting on clothes is still the highlight of my day. But there are moments that the differences sort of come back to me. Wearing skirts, for example, sometimes feels a little, well, off. Pants solidly hanging from your hips from the belt at your waist makes them feel, I don't know, secure. Wearing one-piece dresses, even if they're fitted, feel less secure, as the clothes seem to float around you, essentially just hanging from your shoulders. And one other thing that strikes me from time to time, as how... drafty wearing skirts are. These things become more normal-feeling after a while, but these odd feelings come back to me from time to time. And, changing in and out of clothes all day brought back these kinds of feelings.

As someone who tries to keep current whenever she can, I kept my ears open during the expected conversations about clothes as we trolled the shops or were looking through display windows. I learned a couple of new things, the two best eye-openers being about swimsuits and underwear.

In terms of swimsuits, two-piece swimsuits are always gonna be there, and will always be sexy, but right now, what seems to be in vogue are one-piece cutout suits called monokinis. To my untrained eye, they looked like traditional bikinis, except there's this little bit of fabric connecting the top to the bottom. I wanted to say, sure, they're one-piece suits, but just barely. But I didn't say anything. Anyway, though I did resolve to go swimming in public this year and wear my first swimsuit in public, I think I'm still too much of a scaredy-cat to try out a bikini or a monokini. Guess I'll have to look for a style I will have the balls (yes, pun intended) to wear.

The other one was about underwear. Since high school, or at least since I became aware of sexual politics, thongs and g-strings have always been the sexy underwear of choice. Still is, and I think will always be. But it seems that boyshorts were now the new "in" thing. Hearing "boyshorts" initially made me feel like I was on secure ground. I mean, aren't these what I wore when I was young? But as we looked at these boyshorts, seems I WASN'T on secure ground. These things had no connection with what I was thinking. Truthfully, I knew about these things - in fact, I had a few pairs, but I didn't know that they were called "boyshorts." In any case, I know no boy who would wear these shorts.

Anyway, for obvious reasons, we couldn't try any them on, but the saleslady was expert in sizing us up and we didn't need to. The others were easy sizes but given my... nonstandard measurements, she had some problems. Because of my less... prominent hips, the closest for me was either an XS or small (or size 4 or 5). The lady suggested the smaller one. Also, while the girls were preoccupied, the lady discretely suggested that I should take a look at padded panties. The store carried the Body Wrap and Nearly Me brands, but she said that the Nearly Me was better since it had hip pads and not just the rear pads. I said I'll think about it, In any case, I bought a couple ivory boyshorts, a couple pastel pinks, a pastel green and a pastel blue. One thing though, and I only noticed them when I got home, was that there was a vertical stitch on the backside, apparently to emphasize the curve and cleavage of your booty. Well, it's not as if someone will see me in it...

We continued on with the shopping, and I came out of it with bags of stuff. But all in all, I didn't spend as much as I feared I would, having bought most of our stuff at regular stores and not the high-end ones. After a bite, we went home, the others having to go in separate cabs as we all ended up with piles of stuff (Cricket's rear seats were piled high and no room for passengers) I hated being a cliché girl. Wait - what was I saying? Actually, I guess I liked being a cliché girl.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #37: Not quite the alphabet, or Just can't get enough of them birthday greetings. To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Haven't been posting any blogs for a while - sorry 'bout that. Have been super-busy. I'll try and update you guys later. Anyway, as a few of you may know, it's yours truly's birthday today, and given I have a few things lined up for today, I'm getting my thank you's out to everyone who have sent me birthday greetings, via internet, email, text, phone calls/messages, et cetera since I might not be able to until later tonight. Seems there's a few someones out there who just couldn't wait to greet me today (including a special friend who sent a birthday poem & pic via email and BCTS pm, at exactly midnight... Not gonna say who, but her family name's the same as that famous baseball player from the 40's/50's).

I won't mention specific names, except that, as of 6:30am, there were three people who geeted me with a "happy birthday," whose names began with "A", as well as three with names beginning with C, three D's , a couple of E's, one G, two L's, two J's, four count em four M's, four N's, a P, three R's and a Y. Not quite the alphabet, but pretty darn good! You know who you are. From the bottom of my heart - thank you.

Anyway, took the day off, and am off to mass, and then to my folks for the morning, and then lunch with a few friends, shopping in the afternoon, and then dinner n a movie with some other friends later tonight. Might not get to post til tomorrow, so seeya!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blog #38: An update, or It's always good to find a place where you belong To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I have no one to jog with this morning, so I'm skipping my regular Saturday jog. Which is a good thing coz I intend to write an unusually-long blog today. Got my laptop, a mug of chocolate, a comfortable couch, so here goes.

Lots have been happening in my little world, and that has a lot to do with why I haven't been able to post new stuff in BCTS for a couple of weeks now. I guess, for those out there with a masochistic streak and would like to be bored to tears, here's a bit of an update. (WARNING WARNING WARNING! LONG BLOGPOST AHEAD!)

As you may have heard, I have a pending trip to the Far East. I was supposed to have gone a couple of weeks ago, but the bosses decided to hold off on all our trips until the political atmosphere's gotten more normal over there (they just finished their national elections and are actually about to change presidents this month). So I and a few others will be going maybe after the 4th. In the meantime, my current project's continuing, and is about wrapped up, except for the remaining UAT and integration tests. My boss said it wasn't necessary to find a sub for me, anymore, and she'll take care of my team, while I'm away, if needed (which she said wasn't very likely, actually). What could I say to that: like, "boss, you haven't managed a team in ten years..." or "do you even know OOP?" or "when's the last time you worked on an ERD?" But it's the boss's prerogative, so I smiled, said "thank you," and surreptitiously warned the team of this possibility.

Also, I had temporarily moved out of my little office (my idea), and moved in to the big conference room along with some others - the company's best videocon setup's there so it was decided that those that were supposed to make the trip to set up temporary office there (along with me) so we could get in touch easily with our overseas team, and them with us, whenever it was needed, which was often. Meanwhile, I locked away my stuff in my office's cabinet, had them push my middle desk to the side and temporarily converted it to my team's very own conference room - slash - bull pen. I and my boss would attend these occasional bull sessions and used the place to check up on the team's progress, but I spent much of my time in CX-1, at my temporary desk, talking to my Asian counterparts.

I must say, the overseas guys all had pretty good English (with only a trace of accent), and they all seemed to be in better shape than us (compared to them, we're all so overweight), and the girls were mostly pretty (They were sorta like a mix between the swarthier Malay stereotype and the fairer, almond-eyed Chinese type. Quite charming folks). I couldn't help but compare them to me, which I think is a normal girl thing to do. Looking at how petite and slim most of the girls were, I thought I'd fit in quite well over there.

We did a lot of business by video, Live Meeting, and chat. We even got to trot out the office's Microsoft RoundTable videocam thing, and it was neat the way it's able to have a panoramic view of everyone or chop the image up into individual camera shots of the participants. Better than a static one-shot from the head of the table, or multiple cameras.

Anyway, like I said, we got a lot done, so much so that the VP for BPO operations said it might not even be necessary for me to go anymore (I was sad to hear that). "We'll see about that" I thought to myself.

So my day-to-day at the office was pretty busy. I thought I was doing a bang-up job of juggling my work, but seems that there was a bit of grumbling. Most of the men seemed to be okay with the present status quo, but it seems girls don't like to be ignored, whether it's on the professional level or a personal level - being ignored is being ignored. Perhaps another generalization on my part, but with my limited circle and limited social skills, how can I not generalize? Maybe it's just my team, or maybe it's unique to IT professionals, or perhaps it's because I was close to them before and I seem to be more distant now - I didn’t know. How could an ersatz girl who didn't socialize know? But it remained that I needed to do something.

So I spent one day having individual meetings with the four teams, and then with the four team leads. I spent the time listening to updates, complaints or worries etc. and tried to help. I also told them that, unless I was in the middle of a meeting or a videocon, they were welcome to interrupt me. I hoped that would alleviate some of the bad feelings. I also told myself to circulate a bit with the guys the way I used to (because of my workload, I had inadvertently let that habit lapse).

I sort of knew how they felt - I would feel about the same if my boss ignored me and my work, which was the way it always was in my old job. I thought it was just me being my usual emo self. Now I'm thinking maybe I wasn't. I would have appreciated some advice or some kind of book to explain how all this works. But I have precious few mentors or senior people I could talk with and ask advice. So I had to wing it, I hoped this fixes things, and actually, it looked like it had - it's been more than a week now, and things seem to be more normal.

The closest I had to mentors were my best friend Nikki, and my boss. I had told her and my boss about what's been happening, and how I tried to fix it. Nikki commiserated, and the boss nodded sagely, and just said, "Good thinking."

Over the years, Nikki had become my best post-SRS friend, actually my best friend, regardless. But she doesn't know about the pre-operation me, and we've only ever related to each other as girls. But, with my new boss, I think she knows - she hasn't said anything, but it's how she doesn't say anything that has led me to believe she knows. I was on the verge of asking her point blank once, but before I could, she held me by the hand and said, "All I care about is that you do your job." Not an unequivocal answer to the question, but good enough for me - she knows. And she hasn't said anything to anyone. For that, I was grateful. But one of these days, I think I need to come clean with everyone. Including Nikki. But, given my scaredy-cat ways, I think I'll hold off on that until I know I can stand not having a job for a while. I know I wouldn't need to resign, or if there was a problem, I knew I could fight it. But I don't want the attention, and, even more, the disdain of people I have come to like, and in the case of Nikki, even love. If what I fear happens, I'd rather resign.

Anyway...

As you may have read, it was my birthday this week, and, to try and minimize all the stuff that goes with office birthdays, I took that day off. (One of the guys said that was sneaky of me. Well, yeah! What else? Heehee.)

I did the obligatory birthday mass (I don't know if that's what other Catholics do. All I know is that in my family, you try to hear mass on your birthday.) At my church, that's the 7:30AM mass, so I got up early. Wore what I gather is called a "Sunday Church Suit," but I didn't wear the obligatory hat, and I substituted slacks for the skirt since I knew I was going to Mom & Dad's after, and I knew they'd pop a gasket if they found out I went to church in a skirt.

I lighted the usual candle but didn't go to confession tho (haven't gone to confession since RLT and SRS - I still didn't know how to handle that given how it is now). Don't ask - it's a catholic thing. Went to my favorite diner near the old school, and since it was relatively early (it wasn't yet nine), there weren't too many people around so I didn't stick out too much. Had what I usually had on Sundays when I was still studying - toast, sausages and eggs over easy, plus a small orange and a mug of hot chocolate (it was Ovaltine, but, then it was just a greasy spoon of a place - what did you expect).

Went and got Mom's favorite coffee cake, went home and visited with Mom n Dad for a while. I gave Dad the obligatory tie for Father's Day, as I decided to make this my Father's Day visit as well. Mom told me later when Dad was out of earshot that he's been "phasing out" his god-awful ties in favor of the ones that I and my sister keep on getting him, and Mom's grateful (you should see the ties that Dad gets for himself.... bleah...).

The visit wasn't a big deal - it was like a weekend from the old days - nothing special, just like hanging out at home when I still lived there. And, despite the ever-present awkwardness, I liked it. Mom and I spent a lot of time on the porch visiting while Rick tried to figure out if it was me or a stranger (Ricky's the family Golden Retriever). Had lunch (nothing special, my mom and dad apologized, but for me it was plenty special). I then went to my old room and changed out of my church clothes for a less dressy outfit I brought. I then spent the afternoon getting lost downtown, browsing, people watching and shopping.

In the evening, I went and had dinner with four of my old friends from before. Old geek friends.

I had dinner at my old friend's apartment (in the six intervening years, the place didn't seem to have changed). My friend had always fancied himself as some kind of fancy cook, so he made a mess of ceasar salad, shrimp scampi, toasted french bread and onion soup. He had a token bottle of white wine for me and several six-packs of beer for him and our other two friends. Not really the fanciest of meals, but it sure did bring back a lot of memories.

Back then, they knew about my intentions to transition, and were supportive, but when I actually started my RLT & hormones and dressing up, they sort of faded away. I suppose they weren't really supportive - nerds and gay people (that was how they pigeonholed me) rarely mixed.

So I guess this get-together was their way of apologizing, and perhaps they were curious. In their place, I know I would be.

You could cut the awkwardness that permeated the air with a knife. And it lasted until desert of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Slowly, inexplicably, we reminisced about the old days of school, comic books (ahem, I mean graphic novels, heehee), MTV, anime and scifi movies (and porn movies, too - what can I say: it was guy talk. Sure, geeky talk, but still guy talk). I guess they bleeped over my outfit and face, and just warped back to the good old days. Me too - I caught myself crossing my legs in a guy way, but caught it.

We moved to the living area and played several crappy hands of poker and small talk, and bet with poker chips instead of real money. Just like the old days. Except I was drinking wine instead of beer, and I was wearing girl slacks and a blouse. And we were using a new Star Wars deck, not the old cards.

In the end, though, they asked me how I was and how was it like living the way I was now. I couldn't tell them about my new complete self, but gave them a buddy-version of my Working Girl blogs, keeping it upbeat and peppy, and keeping the darker parts unsaid. Inevitably, one of them asked about sex, and in my head, I was rolling my eyes, and saying "men!" in that tone that's so cliché today. Guess I've been a girl long enough that I've acquired a bit of that girl attitude and prejudice heehee. But these were my friends, so I tried to be honest.

In the end, the said they were happy for me. I said I hoped they weren't too weirded out, and they said they weren't. But I knew them enough that I knew they weren't being completely honest. Still, time will tell. Maybe we'll be having another get-together like this again soon. After all, they all said I looked pretty and sneaked peeks at my face and blouse. Men! ... Heehee.

The following day, at the office, my office-slash-meeting room was festooned with bunting and a printed sign made up of stapled-together paper that said "Happy Birthday, Boss!" I was appropriately emotional (couldn't help it), and I got a few gaily-wrapped gifts, the best of which was a Mr. Coffee chocolate maker that works with both syrup and powder mixes, and constantly stirred the brewed chocolate. Clearly, my people were in cahoots because there was another package made up of six different packages of chocolate mix. Some gourmet-type mix and a couple of boxes of Hershey's and Nestlé’s. I asked Sammi to arrange for a couple of bottles of cheap-but-decent white wine at the end of the day, and there was just enough for each one to have a glass (or in this case, disposable paper cups) of wine before going home.

The day ended all too soon, and everything went back to normal the following day.

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs - Finale

The Working Girl Blog #39: That's it
As usual, to see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Someone who I know from Big Closet sent me an email last night, but I was only able to read it this morning (I suppose we have different time zones), Anyways, I won't go into the particulars of the email, but the gist of it was that the person that wrote the email was "disappointed" at the quality of the posts in my blog, "The Working Girl," here in BCTS. The person said that he/she liked it when it started, but the quality has steadily gone downhill. (Funny thing though, is that she said that I wrote so bad, she never even read any of my stuff here in BCTS...)

Well, I suppose she's right. I also think it has. As I had dreaded, it has come to the point where I have less and less to blog about - my humdrum life is generally not interesting, and what I have already written - I think that has exhausted all the interesting stuff that I can write about my day-to-day. New stuff will come, I am sure, but I am not confident there would be enough to keep the blog running. Recently, I have been struggling to write about things that would be interesting to the readers, as well as to remain true to the spirit of the site - a site for TG fiction, and a forum for TG (and TG-related) discussions and topics.

True, I can stray from that spirit, as Erin is quite liberal in allowing contributors to write about almost anything in her site, even if they're not TG-related. And a few contributors do. But I guess I don't want to do that - after all, I go to the site for TG stories and topics. So I don't want to water down the TG content of BCTS.

When I wrote the first blog of what turned out to be the first of thirty-eight Working Girl blogs three months ago, I had never thought that it would even reach thirty-eight. And when I decided to organize them into The Working Girl Blogs, I had this constant fear that the fount would eventually dry up and I wouldn't be able to continue on. It is a "working girl blog" after all, and there's only so much office stuff I can write about and still keep the blog interesting.

That person who wrote that email accused me of showing off, of bragging, and that what I wrote was just a lot of self-indulgent stuff. That hit me real bad. I never thought I was bragging. Ever since I started these blogs, I have tried to stay on what Anne calls the "happy side" of life. Perhaps I do that too well that I sound like I'm bragging. In this site are people who so desperately want to have the same thing I wanted, and are mired in the same darkness and sadness that I and people like me are heir to. The fact that, in my blogs, I deliberately try to stay on the greener side of the street, make it seem like I am not there in the dark with them. No one really knows how difficult it is to write and make it like I live life with such zest, as Mea puts it.

It's so difficult to be so... peppy, But I have tried not to lay my own demons on the site's readership, and hope to change people's reading material a bit by providing a bit of "light." But, apparently I do it so well that some people think I am showing off. I suppose, in a way, it is a form of showing off. The fact that it is such an effort to do so seems not to cut it for people like the one who wrote the email. I guess I do too good a job of it.

Well, whatever it is, because of this, and because I am finding it more and more difficult to do it, I am putting "30" on the Working Girl blogs... sort of. The effort of juggling my day-to-day as well as continuing the blog at the same time, and these are all on top of me coping with my own demons, is very difficult, to say the least (you might have noticed that I haven't been as prolific with my blogposts lately). So the regular blogs end here. I will still add to it from time to time, if I have something to write about, but no more trying to make it a regular blog.

I know it isn't possible to make everone happy, and that's true here in BCTS as well. I've had a few people here whom I have never gotten along with (such as the one who wrote the email), or people who strongly don't agree with the stuff I write, or just like to contradict me or like to pounce on my mistakes, but they're just a handful - actually, almost all the poeple here in BCTS are pretty okay, or are at least civil about it. If I was able to weather almost twenty years of having to deal with intolerant people who do not, or are not willing to, give people like us a chance, a few low-brow, prejudiced, narrow-minded exceptions should be easy to put up with.

That is not to say that I won't be writing other blogposts in BCTS, or writing new fiction - I have some stuff in the works: new installments for Danny, Mark and Kimmie (I am sure some people will be happy to hear that), plus a few brand-new stories/poems. And with more time on my hands, I think I can get them out quicker. And, like I said, I will be posting some Working Girl blogs from time to time.

My unending gratitude to those who have been reading my blog regularly for the past three months, and for all your uninhibited and exuberant expressions of appreciation.

Best to get back to work now.

Smile, guys. I'll be around. Seeya later!

   

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #40: Flying to the Far East To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Hi. First off - a little note: Blog #40 marks the change-over of The Working Girl Blogs from a daily Monday-Friday/Saturday blog to a non-regular blog, hence the new moniker (the "revision 2.0." thing). I also changed the logo of the organizer page, from the original flat-screen TV logo to an iPad logo, to mark this change. Actually, all it means is that the blogs will be coming out irregularly, that's all. I was just being fancy. lol

Anyway, to catch everyone up...

I just got my passport yesterday. Used to have one, but it expired seven years ago, and since I don't travel abroad, I never bothered to get it renewed. Until now.

My company helped me with the processing, and the main office had asked for a few documents, required me to have a medical, made me go to a short interview with a government lady some weeks ago and sign some stuff. I, of course, had to tell her about my former identity, and she said it was okay as it was fully documented. Other than that, it went like clockwork. And I got the passport yesterday morning.

In the afternoon, I went to the embassy to get a visa. I found out that Americans don't need visas there provided we're not staying more than twenty-one days and that we have pre-purchased return tickets. I was scheduled to stay only a couple of weeks, so it wasn't needed. But the project executives insisted that I get one, I suppose in case I need to stay longer, but because one wasn’t absolutely needed, my boss said the company won't help in getting the visa itself (talk about red tape). I had to personally do it myself. I was about to rebel at that small personal inconvenience, but since it really wasn't that big a deal (and I didn't want to damage my chance to go to the Philippines), I agreed.

So I went, carrying all the documents they said I'd need, including a sort of application form, a form & letter from my company, a form & letter from the company doctor, a life-size chest x-ray (wish I had a bigger chest... heehee), some passport-size pictures (they had printed copies of the picture I had given them for my passport. Did you know, you're not supposed to smile in passport pictures?), police and FBI clearances (on account of I worked on a government project before, I suppose), and my brand-spanking-new passport. (BTW, the passport in this blog ain't real, for obvious reasons - I just mocked one up)

Anyway, I got there, went through a security check, went to the desk of one of the clerks there, and explained to the nice man from the embassy that I really needed one real quick since I was scheduled to leave Friday afternoon, 5PM. He went through the stuff I brought, and said everything seemed to be in order. But... he explained quite politely that it would take some time to get it done, especially now - they're undermanned, and in the middle of an administrative change-over (their country had just elected a new president, and their US ambassador was being recalled and replaced with a new one).

I guess I wasn't really intending to do it, but you know that poor, sad little girl act everyone knows so well? Well, I don't know - guess it was involuntary (and, no, I didn't do any crying or chin quivering). I guess I was just a little scared I might not get it in time, and what would I tell the boss?

Anyway, the nice man had me wait and gave me a nice cup of coffee while he left in search of someone. It was unremarkable coffee, but the service was this elegant-looking bone china cup with matching saucer and shiny silver-plated teaspoon, silver-plated teapot and a little china bowl filled with an assortment of cookies. I wished he served me chocolate instead of coffee, though.

He took quite a while, almost an hour, but I said I'd wait if there was a chance of getting everything done that day. The nice man would come back every ten minutes or so, or one other staff would, and would ask if I was all right. I actually felt flattered that they were being so apologetic and solicitous, and if they were all like this, I'd probably enjoy my stay over there, even though I'm going coz of work.

In the meantime, the people in that office congregated around me and chatted me up. They explained some of the idiosyncrasies of their countrymen, some of the nice places to visit, the food, the shopping (!!!) and especially the weather. They said; if I thought it was pretty hot now, wait until I get there. So I better go prepared, clothes wise.

Pretty nice folks, and all of them spoke English really well.

The man came back and said it still wasn't ready, and might not be ready in time. He said that, if it was okay for me to leave my passport, they can work on it and, whether or not it was ready, I can pass by for my passport the following afternoon. I said I might not be able to come and pick it up because of work, but I could send someone to pick it up for me. The man took a business card, scribbled on the back, and gave it to me, saying that I should ask the person that I will be sending to pick up the passport to present the card. I took the card as well as a receipt for my passport, and I gave him my business card so he can contact me if needed. And I went back to the office. The funny thing was, the embassy was only a few blocks from my place. I always knew it was an embassy or something like that, but with so many similar offices in the city, I never knew. Small world, huh?

Despite having been made to wait, I wasn't too put out. They were all very friendly and solicitous, especially the men. I was quite flattered. The man who took care of my papers didn't shake my hand like the others but kissed my hand instead. Though old fashioned, I liked the gesture. To the men out there - I highly recommend you do that kind of thing more often. I guarantee your lady will appreciate it.

Like I said, they were all pretty nice. I suppose it's their job that they be nice to visitors. They're embassy workers, after all. But I'd like to think that they liked me. I guess most people like to think that about themselves. And I suspect the girls more than the guys. I know I did.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #41: Seeya in two weeks To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I'm going to the Far East this afternoon. There are four of us flying to the Philippines this afternoon. Our flight leaves at 5:30pm later, so last night, I packed a my one and only wheelie bag with just five outfits, a couple of heels (in black, of course, so it'll match with virtually anything) a couple of pajamas, and just enough underwear for a week (plus make-up, toiletries, brushes n combs and everything else a girl needs).

Why only that, you ask, when I'm gonna be there at least two weeks? The guys from Manila suggested that I bring only the minimum needed and buy what I needed there, since everything's so cheap. Sounds great! I made sure I had my credit card, bankbook and wallet. Shopping!

I carried a fairly large valise for my papers, netbook and USB hard drive, and, of course, my purse. (I made sure my purse, all of my outfits, and everything else were my most chic, as I wanted to make a good impression), and All in all - I had only three bags (though my wheelie is relatively large, of course). Amazing, huh?

Anyway, I called for a cab and got to the office at my usual 8AM. I got there as a couple of my guys were also coming in. One of them took my valise, and the other took my wheelie. Side benefits of being a girl. Heehee. Anyways, I spent the morning meeting with my guys and leaving instructions. And spending time with them.

Our project was virtually done (the formal sign-off and turnover were still two weeks away), so I congratulated everyone and shook their hands, confirming that we will be getting the promised-for bonus and incentive. (!!!)

I had a briefing with my bosses and went and had lunch with the team, with a company-sponsored lunch (a pizza lunch, as everyone said that was what they wanted). I got a big pilsner glass full of chocolate, and the team leads presenting a little silver chain necklace with a Saint Christopher medal (which was the patron saint of safe travel, as most Catholics know), with an inscription on the back that I think I won't quote here. A bit bright-eyed, I told everyone how grateful I am, and that as soon as I come back, we'll go and enjoy the promised spa-slash-vacation incentive as a team. I wrapped up the lunch, saying we still had work, and I went to the bathroom for a quick cry.

Anyway, I'm wrapping this up now, change my pumps for a pair of sneakers (hope these won't clash too much with my office clothes heehee) as the airport shuttle might come soon.

Like I said, I will be out for at least two weeks but I'll try and post from Manila, and maybe post some pictures as well. To the chatroom regulars, I'll try n log on at the usual time (though the time in Manila's like 12 hours ahead) IF I can find away to get around any firewall protocols they might have set up over there (like they have here).

So, take care of each other, keep thinking good thoughts, an I'll see you kiddies later.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #42: On the ground safe n sound To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Hi! Como esta? (my seatmate said it's actually colloquially pronounced "coomoo-sta" here)

Just arrived in Manila, and wanted to drop a little quickie note to tell everyone we're all safe and sound

(Sorry about the pic - didn't have time to google for a nice pic nor do any editing on it. And thanks to Sephy's tutoring, I was able to get this together in a jiff, using a template I have).

We arrived over an hour ago, and I just got through baggage claim, customs inspection and airport security. For some reason, I didn't have much trouble getting through - guess it pays to carry less, and to surrender your electronics without question (I just handed over my valise without waiting to be asked, and they just looked through it cursorily and handed it back). At least I think that's it. Lotsa people smiling. Some were even waving at me.

Anyway, as pre-arranged, I took out the celphone they gave me back home, got the card they gave me, popped out the sim, plugged it into the phone and speed-dialed my colleagues. I told em I would be waiting in the lounge for them.

So here I am. Surfing a bit (they got free wifi), draining whatever charge that's left in the battery and saying hi. Am pretty rested as I slept on the plane (twenty-four hours in a plane - not recommended, I tell ya) though it's only 7PM in my head.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi, and that I'll be posting something soon, after we've settled in the condo and had a bit of rest. (Just read everyone's comments - thanks, Faraway, Belle, Kristina, Annette, Abby, Stan. And, yes, Aunt Andrea, I'll try n have fun :-)

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #43: Getting used to things To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

There are four things I'm putting in tonight's blog: one - I've been in the Philippines over five days now, on a business trip for my company, to help set up a new call center; two - I'm getting to know the place and the people (and the shopping!) and am enjoying it so far; three - there was a metro-wide blackout due to downed power lines because of a typhoon, and: four - apparently I look like someone named Nancy.

Like I said, I've been here more than five days, and I'm getting used to everything and settling in. The company has us living in a residential apartment it maintains for local and visiting company VIPs (I'm a VIP now. Cool!). The rooms assigned to each of us are big (I counted the tiles, and I estimated my room to be about twenty feet by twenty), well appointed, with its own cable TV, wifi (though all four of us are sharing the relatively tiny 1.3 mbps bandwidth that's tapped into the company's comm pipe, I've been getting fairly decent performance since we started using it), a mini-fridge and an en-suite bathroom. It's on the sixth floor of the building and I got a great view of the city - not the city where my company is but the city adjacent to it. We're near the global HQ of the Asian Development Bank, and we're just a block away from a ginormous shopping mall called the SM Megamall (SM, I'm told, means "Shoemart" - the name of the original company from the fifties, which was, of course, a shoe store). Megamall is the sixth largest in the world (Apparently, three of the ten largest malls in the world are in the Philippines), which doesn't hold a candle to the one in Manila, called Mall of Asia (which is the third largest), and where my new officemates will be bringing me to this weekend (wheeee!), and maybe catch a movie at the IMAX movie house there, and shop a bit. (Did I mention shopping?)

Ahem... So. Enough of this shopping fixation.

I was also assigned my own car and driver, which would be at my beck and call the whole time I would be here. And before my head started swelling from all of these perks and benefits the company was regaling us, the country branch manager explained that it was cheaper to house us in the company-owned apartment rather than put us up somewhere else, and the car & driver was a security requirement - apparently, expats are sometimes targeted by kidnap-for-ransom gangs. I got scared at that, but the manager said it's really not dangerous - all we needed to do was exercise a little care, as we would in any big city back home, and we'll be fine.

That made me feel fine until I read the pamphlet the company printed up for us (although, given the kind of typos that they forgot to fix, I suspected it was made up by Sammi back in the office heehee), and we were given our short briefing our first day at the office. Our drivers will be with us at all times so long as we were not in the company offices or the apartment (they're trained undercover security professionals. Manny, my driver, is a really big, intimidating-looking guy, a deputized Fil-Am ex-US marine, and keeps a licensed and registered sidearm hidden under his windbreaker), and we are to use the car they provided at all times. Also, we are to keep the company-provided celphones turned on at all times for communication and tracking purposes, and we are to minimize talking with strangers.

This was all very cloak-and-dagger scary, but the branch manager said it's just the company over-reacting and protecting itself from liability. He also said I didn't look like a typical Caucasian, and that Manny and I looked just enough like the locals that he thinks I wouldn't be bugged too much. So long as I don't speak too loudly with my accent, the only interest that people would show is the typical passing glance that guys do with girls.

That first day at the office, my new officemates wracked their brains for a unique place to take us to for late lunch and, though it was not upscale at all (in fact it was very down-scale, I suppose down to the level of a greasy-spoon diner back home), they decided to bring the four of us to a place called Harbor View: it was a long, old wooden pier sticking out over the water of Manila Bay, with an awning and tables & chairs, and they served local seafood dishes. Lots of wind and spray, great view of the bay, passing ships and the sun & clouds, plus the great food. Although I was a little scared about all the locals that hovered around us. Some kids hung around us, panhandling, but Manny said not to give them any money and allow the government folks from social services to take care of it. I felt overwhelmingly sad that, with all my woes, and all the woes of my country, here are a gaggle of scruffy little kids in these circumstances, who've probably gone though more than any people I know have gone through. Despite the problems of our present economy, we don't really know how good we have it.

The weather was pretty hot. Not substantially hotter than back home but the near 100% humidity is the killer. But Tuesday was overcast the whole day. By evening, it started to rain, and apparently there was a typhoon on its way (that's what they call cyclones here), and because of downed power lines, there was a metro-wide blackout most of Wednesday. Good thing our building had a generator (call center, y'know). Wednesday, the metro was covered in tree branches, fallen billboards and the detritus of a fairly strong storm. But to these people, it was like they were used to it. Normal work and activities happened despite these things - for example, cars would drive around the fallen trees as everyone waited for the highway people to clear them up. One has to think of the difference in the lives of people living in the tropics, where typhoons are a regular part of life.

Anyway, during break, I try my best to hang out and talk with the local staff, get to know them and start getting a feel of their working style. Doing this kind of thing back home took me months just to feel at ease, deliberately holding my insecurities in check, and just trying to be normal (I'm sure some of you know what I mean). Now I'm doing it here, among foreigners (although, I suppose, I am the foreigner here, which makes it doubly difficult). Well, as Paul said, "fear is the mind killer." And, I found them paradoxically easier to talk to than the guys back home. It's like they're bending over backwards to be more accommodating. With what I'm trying to do, this seems to have made it easier.

I noticed that most of them would become quiet as I carried on conversations, like they were hanging on every word I said. Well, true, most of the time I was "lecturing" them how things are mostly done back home and back in the main office, and that I am nominally one of their bosses at the moment, so I guess that's part why. But I felt it was more than just that. Or am I just being paranoid?

Before end-of-day, I discretely pulled a couple of the girls aside and asked what was up. After a lot of hemming and hawing, one of them said that the guys were a little shy around pretty girls, and I unbelievingly pshawed that. The other one said I looked like someone named Nancy Castiglione. I wracked my brain trying to think if I knew any Italian actress or other celebrity by that name, but I was totally clueless. Still, I waved that away and said that isn't true. I guess I really didn't believe it - and in any case, what these people see is eighty percent the result of some surgeon's scalpel. Inside, I guess I thought my outside was mostly artificial or manufactured, and what these people see, or think they see, didn't count.

That night, I googled that girl, and I don't see the resemblance. She's a print model that's quite popular here, and in Singapore and Hong Kong. Very, very pretty. But I don't see the resemblance at all, despite how much I wanted there to be. Liz says it might be the bearing rather than a literal resemblance. She's probably right. But in any case, I'm extremely, extreeemely flattered, but I don't believe it. (The pics in this blog are pics of Nancy and not me, 'kay? Though I wish it was me...)

The following day, I had released the proposed TO that I had drawn up and, upon instruction of the higher ups, the country branch manager implemented it right away. You can imagine the brouhaha that ensued. I tried to be inconspicuous and left with Manny and some of the staff as early as possible, and avoid the questions. Good thing the call center hasn't officially started operations. My new local friends brought me to a place called Makati Cinema Square after work, and it was a series of little stores and kiosks, almost like a flea market type of place, except that they specialized in celphones and celphone peripherals. Imagine a nice Motorola or Nokia phone for less than the equivalent of $50. Anyway, we moved from store to store, and I dutifully wrote the model and price of the phones I liked, and, if I don't find a nicely-priced iPhone, I'm getting a nice Motorola or Nokia. I am trying not to speak too much, though, because when the people hear my accent, they start becoming shy. My problem is that I seemed to be trailing a bunch of people, which got Manny agitated enough to say we should go, already. I guess business is slow, and any potential customer immediately catches their attention.

The people here are a trifle shorter than back home - the girls especially. I found that they are around my height range, which made me feel good since I felt I wasn't singled out anymore (as some out there know, I have a bit of a thing about my height, or lack of it). And I found myself being more outgoing, since I was so much more at ease, or perhaps less insecure. And, come to think of it, I felt less insecure about almost everything since, in my mind, I am among strangers and therefore they don't know me from before - they just know me as how I am now. It is quite liberating, actually.

Intellectually, though, I know that's just a load of bull - back home, the people I meet on the street are total strangers as well: they also don't know me from before. But that's how I feel. Some psychiatrist out there can probably understand why that is, but I can't. Guess it shows how screwed up I am.

The long and short of it is that I am enjoying myself here. I'm gonna be real disappointed when I have to leave.

Today, we four expats needed to handle the fallout of the new policies that we just released, my new business processes and TO being just two of them. The questions were coming fast and furious, and our VP for BPO Operations, and the other two directors were making hash of everything, explaining the details of the changes, and just confusing everyone instead of answering their concerns. During a lull, I asked to take the podium, and the first three things I said were: there won't be anyone fired, there won't be any changes in anyone's salary or compensations, and that for details of their restructured responsibilities, they should talk to their immediate supervisors. From then on the staff was a lot calmer and the meeting went ten times more smoothly and less ugly.

Afterwards, still not liking confrontational situations, I retreated to my temporary office to sort of take a breather, and, aside from the twenty or so people who said "hi," I got to spend the rest of the afternoon quietly doing some more paperwork and working on this blog. Our VP passed by and said, "good work," which made me inordinately cheery, and went home early, passing by a "Jollibee" for some takeout (imagine a McDonald's, but instead of a clown, think of a big bumblebee in a red busboy jacket... and no pants...).

When we got to the apartment and I had sent Manny home, I retreated to my room with my "yumburger" with cheese, fries, and large Coke Zero, and proceeded to finish up the blog.

Pretty okay day. Actually, pretty okay week. Like I said, I'm gonna be sad when I have to leave.

Author's note: The pictures are public-access internet pictures of Nancy Castiglione, the magazine model, and not me. 'Kay?

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #44: Back home To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I arrived home at around 1PM yesterday, tidied up my place, did some laundry, went to my folks to drop off some "pasalubong", had some dinner out, and tried to get as much sleep as I can to combat jetlag & to recover from the more-than-twenty-four-hour flight (not to mention two transfers).

Glad to be home.

Anyway, I'm gonna post a long blog this weekend with a lot of pics (which I will "anonymize" - hope you guys won't mind), that I hope you'll like. Not too many Manila pics, but lots of pics of my Palawan weekend (which was mostly swimming, swimming and more swimming).

Anyway, am still trying to catch up on some of my backlog in the office, so I'm signing off now.

Catch you all later this weekend!

(Thanks to Aunt Andrea for helping me out and posting a little update last week.)

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #45: Learning to swim in Palawan To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

As those who've been reading the blog know, I was in the Philippines last month, and was there for a little over two weeks. I was sent there by my company to help get the company's new call center running. It was hard work, but I enjoyed myself despite this: I met a lot of good people, saw new places, and did a lot of shopping! (lol) Lots of reasonably-priced goodies, made me put a big dent in my semi-new credit card's account. (I even got myself a new Paypal account just so that I could register at this swanky designer shoestore and have the piviledge of receiving their by-invitation catalog regularly, and get first crack at their wonderful designer shoes and bags.)

So, it wasn't all work.

It was a third-world country, of course, so there were lots of signs of poverty, though where I stayed and where the company was putting up its new offices were in the more affluent parts of Metro Manila where outward signs of poverty were muted - downtown Makati, for example, was very upscale as well as cosmopolitan. Also, you hear a lot about the unrest and the political turmoil, and, for foreigners, the danger of kidnap-for-ransom gangs, (the company put up lots of precautions in our behalf). But we didn't see any of that.

Where we were was a a busy, jumping place - full of busy people, tall buildings, cars, buses and wall-to-wall people. The entire place didn't seem to go to sleep: cars, buses and trains all bringing people in and out of the city in a never-ending stream (I wanted to ride their version of the Metro just to see, but my driver-security guy nixed that). There were malls in the middle of the commercial district, and they were overflowing with people, especially during the lunch hour and after work. And many of the malls were tastefully surrounded with little belts of greenery so that they looked more like parks than malls from the outside.

To help people move around, there were above-street-level covered walkways that connected many of the buildings so you can walk from building to building high above the street traffic. There were also underground people tunnels so you don't have to cross the major intersections in rush hour traffic.

The actual "plant" where the main operations of the call center would be was to be housed separate from our main office, in a new industrial park in another city, one of the other fourteen cities that made up Metro Manila, and was very near the city's university belt. I guess it was good for the call center 'coz we seemed to have a lot of well educated, well spoken young college graduates applying to be part of our staff. (Metro Manila was made up of fourteen cities and three townships - Manila City being just one of them)

The food was great, but just this side of being too rich: It was pretty good, except everything was either just a little too sweet, or savory, or salty etc. Nowadays, most food tastes just a bit bland. But my palate is returning to normal slowly, although I'll always miss the Jollibee burgers with the sweet pickles instead of dill.

In a way, it was good for us to be shuttling back and forth between the two offices and our apartment, since we get ot see more of the place. But as okay as it was, being in Metro Manila was, I think (this trip is my first out of the country), like being in just another citified place: there are only "citified things" to do - shopping, dining out, going to the theater, etc. Which I could all do at home. Not too much sightseeing, no exotic flora or fauna (except at the zoos, I suppose), et cetera. And there was not time to enjoy the museums and such...

Still, I tried to enjoy the "citified" stuff, and in Metro Manila, home of three of the twenty largest malls in the world, shopping is unparalleled (in my limited experience, of course). I got to go to the Megamall and the Mall of Asia (two of the three), and, with prices generally lower than normal, I really gave my credit card a workout. The Mall of Asia was so large, they had electric trams right in the mall to shuttle the people around. And they had a three-storey-tall iron-frame globe out in front, similar to the globe at the New York Expo. They even had an IMAX theater, an open-air music hall and the country's first olympic-sized ice-skating rink. And, of course, the closest thing to a girl's heart, dozens upon dozens upon dozens of shops!

Still, the best shopping wasn't to be had at the established malls, but in the little "tiangge's", or flea markets, that are, actually, not hard to find. It is a socially acceptable thing to bargain-hunt in these places, and lower-income office girls would happily rub elbows with well-heeled matrons, all of them good-naturedly bargain-hunting. In my mind, they're like friendlier versions of the barain hunters in the movie, "Confessions of a Shopaholic." I had a chance to do that in a place called the Makati Cinema Square - a somewhat seedy place, but I felt safe and happily bargain-hunted along with the locals (and, shhh! it's chock-full of pirate movie, TV & music DVDs, AND pirate software). I did try not to speak much because my accent attracted too much attention, and I would have trouble haggling when they realized I wasn't a local. (I guess I'm a little embarrassed about Americans' provincial attitude towards language, in that we mostly expect everyone to know how to speak English. At least, in the Philippines, this isn't much of an issue as everyone knows English (to varying degrees), so there is virtually no language barrier - a legacy, they say, of the American occupation of the country in the late eighteen-hundreds.

I also had a chance to see Manila at night from out in the bay (they had this ship that would take tourists out to the water for candle-lit dinners in the bay), and seeing the lights of the city at night was one of the best views ever.

We were also lucky enough that we ended our stay with a three-day vacation in picturesque Palawan, a place known for sun-lit lagoons, pristine beaches, excellent wreck-diving spots, and mild tropical weather.

We wrapped up work on our second Friday, and come Saturday morning, we took a a one-hour plane ride to Coron, the province's main town. Manny, my driver-slash-bodyguard, plus another of our drivers, were required to accompany us walking security risks, and one of the girls, Tintin, the sales team supervisor, tagged along as our native guide since she came from Palawan (as well as unofficial chaperone, and for protection against any innuendoes about sexual harassment - I know my boss and officemates wouldn't do anything, but I guess the company was just protecting itself against that kind of liability).

The flight was unremarkable, but when we arrived in Coron, the place did not disappoint. It was very picturesque in a provincial small-town kind of way.

Up on a hilltop, clearly seen from across the little bay was a big sign that said "Coron," which was clearly designed to imitate the big Hollywood sign in L.A. And we had a bit of a giggle at that as our little "banca" sped us to our bungalow on a small island with only us and the caretakers as the occupants.

I had that little throwaway USB-powered 1.2 Megabit underwater camera strapped to my wrist the whole time I was there and was able to get lots of snaps of our vacation, including lots of underwater shots. (I bought my GoPro at that flea market I mentioned).

We got to do a lot: did some shipwreck diving in Coron Bay and Busuanga, went and visited a lake inside an extinct volcanic crater (Lake Kayangan), took pictures of the live corral and sea sponges and anemones in the bay, swam among the big groupers that were making the old Japanese shipwrecks their home, saw beautiful volcanic rock formations, fed the fish with bits of bread, visited two adjacent lagoons connected via a little underwater tunnel (called "twin lagoons" by the locals), played water tag, nearly got stung by jellyfish at the beach near our cottage, and so many other things.

For me, I guess I felt I was feeling more secure so that I was able to get the nerve to wear a swimsuit for the very first time (a scary as well as thrilling thing). And even though I didn't know how to swim - I think I did well. Tintin taught me one of the things the tourists liked to do, which was to wear one of those orange life preservers while I swam around. I only took it off when I had the nerve to try diving underwater (making sure that my boss or Tintin was around first, of course).

I even got to lounge around in my suit and got the appropriate "tan lines" (which was difficult since I wasn't all that fair to begin with) - my favorite places to lay about in was this little secluded beach near the Japanese shipwreck we tried exploring, plus this little raft that was tethered near our bungalow's beach - I would wade to the raft with my little netbook and lie in the shade of the raft's little thatch roof, soaking in the sun and the tropical beauty of the place. From time to time, speedboats would race by "my" raft and the tourists riding in them would whistle or make catcalls as they zoomed by. When Tintin was with me, I'd act all affronted, but inside, I was sorta giggly.

While we were there, I guess we acted like typical noisy, rowdy tourists (and I guess that's all right since that's what we were) - speaking too loudly, or just behaving in a very rowdy manner. I'm grateful that the locals were tolerant. Especially of one of the directors and Tintin: my other boss liked to horse around in the water, or making believe he was a submarine or a shark (my other boss keeps on forgetting that there are no sharks in the cove, and that his bald head looked nothing like a shark's fin...), or Tintin bringing a bag of cookies while swimming, holding up the bag above her head and bobbing up occasionally to munch on a cookie. Crazy girl that Tintin...

One of the things I guess I learned, other than the fact that I looked funny in the life preserver while I swam, was that I was totally out of shape (actually Tintin was, too). On the last day, Tintin and I decided to swim as far as we could, clearly forgetting to save energy for the swim back. We were so tired that we had to holler for help and get our boatman to come and fetch us...

I can see why girls liked swimming. It was great fun, but for me, half of the fun was the attention girls seem to automatically get while at the beach and such. Still, I don't know if I'd be courageous enough to wear a suit to a swimming pool or the beach back home. I know that sounds crazy, given that I didn't have such compunctions in Coron, but I guess I have to parse that one little neurosis out with my therapist a bit deeper.

Anyway, We all went back to Manila on Wednesay morning, had some lunch, fixed up our stuff, and then flew back home in the evening. The funny thing was, we arrived more than twenty-four hours later, but still on a Wednesday (lol). Manny helped me to square away the stuff I was shipping back separately, and I'm expecting my stuff to arrive this Saturday. Apparently, my boss was right - shipping stuff does take a long time...
   

Bobbie's Pictures
(note those pictures with the blue dot in the corner - those are pictures Tintin kindly downloaded from the internet for me,
since I wasn't able to take a lot of pictures while in Manila)
   

The Manila International Airport		Arrow shows general location of condo where Bobbie & her officemates stayed
Bobbie's condo building		Bobbie's room (from an advertising picture Tintin got from the internet)
Compound where the eventual call center will be located.		a fountain in the middle of the call center compound's forecourt
Manila Bay at night		Harbor View, Manila Bay - where we had our first authentic Filipino meal
internet photo of building near main office (retouched to genericize the pic)		The light rail train that passed near the office, which I wasn't allowed to ride :(
Makati City buildings connected via covered pedestrian walkways		the walkways at night
Makati City skyscrapers as seen from the sidewalk		Ayala Avenue - Makati City's highstreet
The Greenbelt Retail District		Greenbelt Park, in the open area of Greenbelt 3
Makati City skyscrapers in the afternoon sunshine		The legendary traffic of Metro Manila
Mall of Asia - third largest mall in the world		One of MOA's little electric trams that mall-goers use to get around the mall
Large metal globe in the front drive of MOA		Supposedly the first IMax Theater in Asia is in MOA
Coron Island's Hollywood-style sign		Outrigger pontoon of our banca tourboat
Bungalow where we stayed during our Palawan vacation		Our tourboat going out, bringing tourists out to Coron
Steep stairway up extinct volcano to Kayangan Lake		View from the lip of the crater
Enjoying ourselves in Kayangan Lake		Our boat to see Busuanga and Coron
Underwater picture near japanese shipwreck taken with my wrist-mounted Hero Gopro underwater camera		My boss snorkeling, making believe he's a submarine
Bobbie feeding fish underwater		Eating cookies while swimming
Fishpens in Coron Bay		A Live corral colony near the shipwreck (we carefully returned it, of course)
Live rare sea sponge, which we carefully returned where we found it		Live jellyfish, which was not rare and very dangerous which we left on the beach to dessicate
Bobbie's boss chasing Bobbie and Tintin in the water		Bobbie's favorite secluded beach to lounge around in
Tethered raft near the bungalow - Bobbie's favorite place to relax while writing in her netbook		Bobbie n Tintin calling for help 'coz they're too tired to swim back
Bobbie and Tintin after they're "rescued"		Beautiful rock formations on the way to Twin Lagoons
More beautiful formations on the way to Twin Lagoons		Entering the first of the Twin Lagoons
Lagoon number 1 of the Twin Lagoons		Beautiful rock formation in the lagoon
The lagoon's crystal clear water that's like a mirror		Flying home. Goodbye Philippines!

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #46: An Anniversary To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Last week I checked: August 25 last year was the date when I posted my first story here in BCTS. So, today, it's exactly one year later.

Perhaps to many out there, who have been members of the site for a long time - such anniversaries are nothing special, or perhaps for those more forthright than I, more outgoing, and with more of a life than I, this anniversary would not be big deal.

But, for me, in that one short year, I was able to acquire a whole bunch of friends (as well as a few not-exactly-friends), got the gumption to leave a job I wasn't too happy with, had to cope with my sister's stroke that really screwed up the family's life, but in a way it gave me a closer rapport with my sister and my mom and dad, finally paid off all my loans and am finally debt-free, started a new job, which was sort of the start of many things for me, became more courageous in taking risks, experiencing life more, and getting to know the new me better.

I guess all these good things cannot be attributed to just being a member of the site, but in all honesty, a large part of these could.

Reaching out and searching for one's niche in life, one's place in life - it takes more courage than this trans-person has, and only in being part of this community was I able to find enough of it to experiment a bit, take risks and find a kind of happiness that only trans-people crave for.

I'm not saying I've found it, but I think I'm getting there. At least I feel more secure in my own skin than I've ever been. Life isn't perfect. It will never be, I think. But there are shafts of sunshine through the clouds that tell me now that life can be okay. Life cannot be perfect, but life can be okay. A point of view that, I think, is common to us trans-folk. And that's all I'm asking for: not perfection. Just okay.

When I posted my first story, there was one person who wrote a comment forty minutes of my posting it. And through the months she's become a good friend. That is not to say that I haven't made more friends here, but being friends with Andrea will always be a special thing for me. And I will always be grateful for that.

So, I hope you guys are happy for me. And I hope that the next year will be as okay.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #47: Smelly Bobbie To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

It's Sunday, just about 9AM, and, guess what? I'm still in the office, all alone. Yup. Been here since Friday. Haven't gone home.

Working.

A few of my friends here in BCTS know why, but suffice it to say, lil old Bobbie's been saddled with lotsa responsibility here at work. Got two projects cooking, been put in charge of the company rollout of it's revamped financial system (and it's budget season, dontcha know, so we need it up and running by next week), and on top it all, I've been put in charge of our unit's CMMI certification, as well as supervising the other teams that my boss used to supervise.

Truthfully, though, I asked for this, as the other alternatives open to me were less attractive. The other options weren't really bad, but I didn't want to relocate.

Also, to be honest, these projects I "inherited" have been running for a while, and I've just been asked to manage 'em. There are both advantages and disadvantages to inheriting already-running projects, the advantages being: there's no teething problems anymore, and the main goal is to just make sure that no one slackens off so the targets are met. Now, the disadvantages... well, look at me, still here in the office, on a Sunday, still in the same clothes that I was wearing Friday, about to burst from all the junk food I've been getting from the vending machines just so I'd have something to munch on while I try and catch up with everything. And, boy do I need a bath: I must smell something fierce...

Plus it was a little creepy to be all alone in the office at night, surrounded by darkness, with no one but the music from my iPad keeping me company. But I just turned up the volume and concentrated on my reading.

Anyways...

I'd rather not get into why I've been saddled with all this work but I asked for this. And if all goes well... well, let's just say,there's gonna be a big change around here by January.

But it's not all bad - Sammi's now assigned to me full time, my project's been signed off by the customer exactly two months ahead of the contract date, so my team got the performance bonus and we all enjoyed the spa weekend we were promised (I got to swim in a swimsuit again, though just in a pool this time - no tropical cove, corals or Japanese shipwrecks to swim by).

However the team's under a different manager now (I was asked to give up the team, given I had all these other tasks to do), and maybe a third of them reassigned to other groups (all of them as team leads, I'm proud to say).

Anyway, this compromise situation will only be until December, and I hope to make a good showing of myself by then.

Everything's been moving real fast, and I guess I have to look at the bright side of things - I'm employed when lots of others aren't, I got enough work that I don't have time to brood about things (I don't have time to surf much anymore, too, though, much less write).

In any case, I'm almost done with my reading, reviewing and note-taking, and I think I'll be going home in a while. I've been using my boss's table, and it's currently festooned with lots of wrappers from Mcdonald's and other fast food places, empty coke cans, et cetera, and I have been taking catnaps on her couch.

Yesterday morning, Sammi came by to take a peek at how I was doing, and she all but ordered me to go home. I said I couldn't and she demanded that I give her my apartment key so she could go home and get me a change of clothes. I guess I am still not too open about myself with others - I was not sure if Sammi knew about me already - coz if she didn't, I didn't want to take the chance that she might see something at my place that I'd rather she didn't. So I said I was fine.

She raised an unbelieving eyebrow at me, but didn't challenge it. She left and came back thirty minutes later with a bunch of drinks & snacks, a pack of panties and four cheap pullovers from the drugstore, as well as soap, shampoo, deodorant, some q-tips, six little towels that were the size of washcloths, a toothbrush and some drugstore-type baby cologne. I wanted to hug her in thanks but I told her I shouldn't as I stink. We both giggled at that and she still gave me a hug despite my needing a bath.

My boss (Sammi obviously tipped her off) passed by at noon, and brought a big paper bag of chinese takout for lunch, which we shared. An hour later though, she had to go as her husband was already outside waiting.

I was fairly sure that I wouldn't be treated this well if I was a guy, even if I was a close friend of theirs. I felt a bit teary-eyed after their visits, but I didn't show them how emotional and grateful I was, as I suspected it wouldn't be in character for a girl, for what might be a usual thing that girls do for each other (but what did I know?).

After our chinese takeout lunch and my boss had already left, I had a "pretend" bath, which involved shampooing my hair, washing my face, neck and arms, and swiping my armpits with a wet washcloth (all done over the sink), and then washing myself "down there" while sitting on the toilet. Talk about roughing it.

I then used up a couple more "towelettes" to dry myself (it was hard going with my hair, which was already down to my shoulders lol), wet-combed it with my needle-comb to prevent tangles, used the deodorant, and liberally spritzed myself with the drugstore cologne. I took off my panties, bra and blouse, replacing them with what Sammi bought, but I had no choice and wore my itty-bitty anime-style skirt again, but this time, I didn't put my stockings back on. (My dress "style" has changed a bit, and has a bit of an anime influence to it now, thanks to my new Japanese friend here in the office.)

When I was done, I washed the four towelettes I used with the bath soap and hung them on the little towel rack by the sink to dry. Sheesh. Talk about roughing it...

I think I'll start keeping an overnighter-type kit here in the office, just in case I need to stay overnight again.

Actually, I could have gone home and maybe taken a bath and come back if I needed to, but I guess it's a holdover from that masculine need to be able to say you completed something that I didn't even think of going home...

Also, I guess a lonely person who's used to being alone doesn't much mind doing things like these. In the back of my mind, I was actually thinking that, in a way, it was good that I was working, as I didn't have to deal with the insomnia and the nightmares.

Anyway, like I said, I'm about done so I will hold off from doing another pretend bath and take a real bath at home, and post this now.

It just occurred to me: I forgot all about my jog yesterday. Dang. I guess I'll call the girls and make my apologies. Wonder how I can make it up to them.

Anyway. Seeya later guys!

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #48: Sweating up a storm - The honeymoon is over To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Nope. This is not a commercial for a post in the Stories section or something like that, but a real, honest-to-goodness blog. So be cool.

Anyway...

Yesterday, I had my first jog in weeks. You would think that having started all of this jogging more than five months ago, it would be less of a novelty. But it still is, and I still enjoy it as a welcome change from my day-to-day, and not just a way to keep healthy. And I guess all of us have a bit of an exhibitionist streak (though I don't mean I go around jogging in the nude lol),

But due to a too-heavy workload at the office that I am not yet used to, lately I'm usually short of sleep rations, which I usually make up for during the weekends, so, lately, I haven't had the energy nor the drive to push on with my Saturday morning jogs.

But yesterday, I did. I didn't have much of a choice, really, as my jogging "posse" had practically insisted (or as close to insisting as they ever did). My roommate had left the night before to go visit some relatives in Hawaii this Labor Day weekend (yes, I've had a roommate for about a month now, ever since I got back - tell you about her later, maybe). She did ask me to go with her, but I begged off. Yeah, I know. Hawaii. I should get my head examined. But I didn't want to intrude in what should be a just-for-family thing - I didn't know the Japanese customs for such things so I thought I'd pass. In any case, I reasoned that if it was really okay to go, she'd have insisted. Since she didn't, I think I was right. The operative words there being "I think..." Don't mind me. Whether or not that's the way a girl would think is beside the point. At this point, this twisty kind of thinking is a Bobbie thing.

Anyway. I was feeling lonely, so I agreed, and decided to go home as early as I could, fully intending to be rested enough to resume my jogging.

Given how hot it was nowadays, I just wore a t-shirt bra, a simple white t-shirt, short shorts, socks and sneakers. I'm sure those of you who wear contact lenses know that it's sometimes uncomfortable wearing contacts when you're short on sleep - swollen eyes or something like that, maybe - so I wore my glasses instead. My roommate wore glasses, too, and I raided her stuff to borrow her sports strap (that's an elastic strap that goes behind the back of your head and attaches to your glasses so they don't fall off).

My hair was getting fairly long now, as I had deliberately had the hairdressers not touch the length of it every time I visited the hair salon. It's now just past my shoulders but it was also long in front and on the sides. I guess I am not yet too at-home at exclusively girls' places and was a little shy, still, so I never could tell my hairdresser what kind of cut or style I wanted so I usually end up following her suggestions. So it ended up being long all around. I had been getting by with styles that parted my hair in the middle. My roommate, knowing this of me, had made an appointment with my hairdressers for me, and she said it was all set for Saturday at around ten (making me my hairdresser's first appointment of the day).

Anyway, my hair was long enough that I ended up lengthening the sports strap and passing it underneath my hair.

Come 7AM, I went down to the lobby as usual, and I saw seven people downstairs - all six girls from my office that jogged with me off and on, plus the analyst I had called "Mr. Personality" in my head - someone I thought would be one of my worst critics, but turned out to be one of my most loyal and talented people. A jogging group of eight. Hoo boy.

Anyway, we went out and had our usual hour-long jog. With temperatures near the high eighties, we were all soaking at the end. I, for one, was totally drenched. Instead of going to Soho, our usual coffee spot, for refreshment and a bit of rest, given the big group, we went to a little juice bar two blocks away that one of the girls knew of, that was next door to some gym.

The bar was a little more upscale and was fairly deserted. The waitress who led us to a large booth didn't turn up her nose at our sweaty condition (she's probably used to it - people from the gym probably frequented the place).

Anyway, after a bit of chit-chat, as I was polishing my glasses on a dry corner of my t-shirt, the guys told me the reason for this (and here I was assuming it was just for exercise).

It was a sort of leave-taking - four of the girls and the guy were being transferred to other sites. I was pleased to hear them say that they wouldn't have opted for the transfer if they could have stayed as part of my team, but the promotion and the raise that came with the transfer was hard to turn down, especially during these times, although I was fairly sure they were just being polite to a soon-to-be ex-boss.

I said I appreciated it, and wished them well, but apparently that wasn't all.

Mr. Personality broke the news: they knew.

I drew a blank when I heard that, but after a few moments, I understood. They knew I was TS.

After my brain rebooted, and felt a wave of despair wash over me, I said that I never hid the fact that I was TS. But, as one of the girls pointed out, I never told anyone either, and the guy said that I can't use the excuse that no one asked.

I nodded at that, and hung my head, fearing that I was being ostracized again. At least they weren't being violent.

One of the other girls, the one sitting beside me, put an arm around me and gave me a hug, and they said that they didn't care about that, and that made me cry.

As I got myself under control, I asked who else knew, and they said practically everyone in the office knew. It seems that when I left for my overseas trip, the information from my HR file was "discovered" by someone and the news spread. I said I didn't know that anyone else knew. Actually, everyone had concluded that I didn't know, given how I was behaving.

We talked about it, and I realized that I now know the reason why several of the people in the office were not as friendly, some actually very brusque and preternaturally argumentative. No one confronted me openly, but I finally figured out what some of the cryptic, slightly insulting comments I have been hearing from time to time.

Also, they told me the other reason they wanted to jog with me today - it was so that they could catch me alone and bring up a delicate question (Hah! As if their first piece of news wasn't delicate enough).

It seemed that there were rumors that the reason so many were being transferred out was because I knew that they knew, and I was instigating all of the transfers. I vehemently denied that, and explained the real reason why: the main office was considering shutting us down, and, to make sure that some of the good people weren't hit by the probable shutdown, they were being transferred to the company's offices that were not in danger of being shut down - the company had five offices in town, and most of the ones moving out were being transferred to these offices, while the others were being transferred to the ones in DC.

They were wondering why there were a lot from the team being transferred. I got a bit mad at that and said that they all deserved to have their employment safeguarded, and that's why the boss had them transferred AND promoted. At least, with these transfers, there wouldn't be any firings, cutbacks, or pay cuts in the office. And that my only disappointment was they didn't do it for everyone.

All of them nodded at that, and I imagined that they felt big a weight being lifted off their shoulders.

They asked why I wasn't being transferred. I said I was actually being transferred but I asked not to be, and we talked a bit about that. (I won't go into the reasons why here. Maybe later.)

After talking some more about the transfers and the changes in the office, I asked some of the questions topmost in my mind. And they all said that most of the people didn't really care one way or the other, and the few that had problems with it - HR and the boss had talks with them. I took that with a grain of salt, and actually started getting scared to go back to the office.

The girl beside me said to not worry, and whatever happens, they didn't care, and they would kick the butt of anyone who tried to make trouble.

Eventually we left the place and went our separate ways, and I went home to take a bath and get ready for my salon appointment, but all through my shower, and throughout the rest of my day, I couldn't help but brood about the news. In fact, I didn't even pay too much attention to what my hairdresser had done to my hair until the smell of the chemicals she used on my hair clued me in, but by that time it was too late. My roommate apparently gave instructions to have my hair straightened, and to give me bangs. After it was done, I had looked at the mirror and, though I didn't like it at first glance, I guess it was a cute style, and it'll probably grow on me (I guess I have to explain - my roommate's ideas on style is a little on the young, offbeat side. She's Japanese, though she has been in the country for more than five years and speaks excellent English. She's just a little over twenty-three, and had a very Japanese kind of style. If I were forced to explain, let's just say her tastes wouldn't be out of place in the pages of some manga comic, or in some anime cartoon. Perhaps that's an exaggeration, but I think you know what I mean.) Anyway, My hairdresser said that a lot of the length was preserved, and there was enough length that I could change the style if I didn't like the one I had now, but to give it a week or two so the chemicals she used could leach out a bit.

I prayed that the office staff would be cool with them knowing I was TS, but, apparently, they knew for more than five weeks already, and I didn't know they knew. But I guess it makes a difference that I knew they knew... heehee. Talk about schizoid girls, huh?

My greatest fear nowadays was that everything I've built up would come crashing down. I had always thought that my new job was too good to be true. Maybe I was right. Maybe the honeymoon was over, and my charmed days at my new job have passed. Last night, the nightmares were pretty bad, and in the morning, I wanted to talk/chat with some friends but none were around. In desperation, I called up my therapist, and I guess she got me turned around to the right way of thinking - that they already knew, long before I knew they knew, and the office atmosphere wasn't affected ("affected much," I corrected her, but only in my head, of course), and whatever happens, I should tackle them as they come, and not to anticipate the worst.

She's right, of course. I think she's right. But that doesn't allay my fears much. At least there's no work tomorrow, postponing, even for just one day, my having to face the office staff. And maybe that will allow me to enjoy the Labor Day Weekend parades and stuff. At least, I'm gonna be facing them looking good in my cute new 'do. Heehee...

Later, after church, I was supposed to go to mom & dad's for dinner. I'm thinking of calling them and asking if I can sleep over tonight. I sure do wish my roommate was here.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #49: Stayed in the hospital for a while,or Thought I wouldn't get beat up anymore To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

   
I've been in the hospital since Monday, so I've been incommunicado for a while. No internet or phone calls. Doctor’s orders. Yeah, bummer. I had to stay in the hospital for observation, as well as have some tests. You see, I had a concussion at work last Monday morning. I got beat up.

But that may be wrong - that statement, "got beat up." I should know what it is to get beat up. When I was in elementary and high school, I got beat up enough to know what that meant. I became an expert at avoiding bullies. (One gets adept at anything if given the proper motivation.) Gambits like staying later than everyone, or getting to school earlier than necessary, or staying in crowds or staying within earshot of a teacher or some adult, or giving them money - pretty common gambits, but I had lots of others in my arsenal. Effeminate small boys among big boys, like I was, are common targets, and we needed to learn how to avoid getting into fights real quick.

Anyway, back then, I only got beat up occasionally, maybe once or twice in a year, and not that bad (Others had it worse, I’m sure). I suppose my school days weren't really that bad, comparatively speaking. I was even able to hide the few fights I had from my folks and my big sister (she was in a different school). Sure, she smelled something fishy about my cover-up stories, but I guess she didn't worry about it too much given how nonchalant I behaved around the family. I fooled my folks all the time, including the one time I got my arm broken in one of the more violent scuffles involving six kids. I think I told them I fell down some stairs (though sis was very suspicious of that and spent several days going around my school trying to find out the truth). Anyway, long and short - I knew what it meant to get beat up.

So, what happened to me at work — not a beating, perhaps, but definitely a fight. A very short fight, at that.

Despite the concussion, I recall most of what happened. Monday morning, after I got to the office, parked and got out of my little four-by-four, one of my ex-staff, one of those who were not as friendly as before after I got back from my trip abroad, was there by my car door, and confronted me. Why now and not earlier, I don't know.

I guess I won't get into what he exactly said, but essentially, he was mad that I had "lied to people," and fooled them into thinking that I was "a normal person" instead of some pervert. I responded and, pretty soon, our yelling got louder and louder. Anyway, after a while, we were noisy enough that the commotion attracted the attention of people.

When I felt emotions had risen to a fever pitch, I started worrying that it might escalate to something physical so I pulled out my pepper spray. The guy grabbed my arm after I got the spray. (in hindsight, I think he thought I was getting a gun or something) When he did that, I reacted instinctively and swung my other arm and hit the side of his face with my closed fist. After staggering backwards for a bit, he came back with balled fists, screaming that I was a bitch. I was lucky to get off a one-second shot, spraying it right at his face, but the thing just sputtered after that. Seems that the little pepper spray had lost its pressure (it was old, after all). The guy hit me in the eye, and I flew back and hit the ground with the back of my head.

I was only out for just a few moments, but when I woke up, my memory was largely a blank, but I do recall being very confused and in a lot of pain. I wasn't getting everything that was happening around me. Later on though, I remembered almost everything. I've put together in my mind images of the guy in handcuffs and in the hands of two security guards, with another splashing his face with water from a plastic bottle to wash off the pepper spray. An officemate of mine was beside me, keeping me company, trying to see if I was okay but afraid of moving me. Anyway, the next thing I remember was waking up again in an ambulance with Sammi, and on the way to the ER.

I've been in the hospital since then, and was just sent home this afternoon. Pretty boring five days, actually, since I felt good enough after the second day that I looked to the short trips to the ECG, CT or X-ray labs as sort of reprieves. Truth is, if it were up to me, I would have gone home a lot earlier, but the people from HR insisted on a full battery of tests. They said they just wanted to be sure, but I'm sure it's mostly to cover their asses, just in case.

To occupy my time, I've been working on my stories. (Thank goodness my room mate brought me my little netbook. No wifi allowed in the room, though.) Mostly ,I was there for observation - it was the only way to know if the concussion did any kind of damage to my brain.

Some of my ex-team members, as well as my boss and some of the managers, had come to visit, some bringing flowers and cards et cetera. One of them even brought a ceramic pot filled with big flowers, which I kept beside my bed. (She got them from the hospital's little flower shop so that meant it was okay to bring them inside.) My mom and dad visited, too, and I was happy to see that dad was all agitated and wanted to get his hands on the guy. Don't get me wrong - I wasn't happy that he was angry, but happy that he cared. When I was dozing lightly, I saw, from the corner of my eye, that they were looking at me with such gentleness and caring, I couldn't help but cry a little. 'Course, I won't mention that to them since I don't want to embarass them. Anyway, I was able to introduce them to some of my officemates and staff and, more importantly, I was able to introduce my room mate.

My best friend, Nikki, visited me everyday after work, as well as my room mate and Sammi, and my therapist also came on my third day - we had a short session (maybe less than twenty minutes) and she said she thought I was managing it well, but that I definitely needed to talk about it in more detail during our next session.

You know, I'm ninety percent sure Nikki knows now (that is, if she didn't know before this). I mean, how can she not, right? But it doesn't bother me now that she knows: how she was when she was visiting - she seemed like the old Nikki. Well, she was worried and so forth, but her behavior towards me seemed the same. I guess I should "officially" tell her soon. But I'm not as worried now.

My lawyer and a couple of people from HR also came on the third day (this was only the fourth time for me to meet my lawyer face-to-face, actually). They told me that the police took the guy after our fight, and the company brought up assault charges against him, in my behalf. He made bail, though. The charge was first degree assault, so he'd probably get a maximum of three years if convicted, though my lawyer explained that since this is his first charge, he'd probably get a lot, lot less.

Anyway, the HR guys said that they had fired him, and though the guy can fight it, the fact that there was security video and lots of witnesses meant it was an open and shut case. They had also offered to give me a new assignment of my choice, if I felt that my current office is not a safe working environment. (My lawyer told me later that this was a typical dodge that companies do - sort of the closest they could get to legally offering me a bribe so I won't press charges yet not admit any kind of culpability. The transfer could include sweeteners like a big relocation allowance for the first few months, get me a new place if I wanted, a new car so I could get around okay in a new place, but what the package would be would depend on me, and if I wanted to play ball.) As to the assault charge, when the HR people left, my lawyer explained that he had a talk with my therapist, and she said that I would probably not want to press charges on the guy since I wouldn't want the attention. I guess I resented it that my therapist knew me that well, but she was right. My lawyer said, at the very least, there should be a restraining order, or a stay-away order, but that would need a court filing and court appearance, among other things. I said, in that case, I'd have to think about it, as well as think about the company's offer.

So, here I am, home now, totally recovered, and given a clean bill of health, although they mentioned my low blood pressure (what else was new). My room mate and I are just sitting around, relaxing, and waiting for Nikki - she's promised to bring some Chinese takeout for dinner, which is, according to her, the best antidote for depression. Mom n Dad are also coming over on Sunday, and my sister (through my brother-in-law) sent a little email note. I'll be sending back a little thank-you email right after I post this.

My black eye's almost gone. And, sure, I had a concussion - a Grade 2 concussion, in fact, since I lost consciousness, but I'm okay now. There was some talk about second-impact syndrome, but people who saw the thing said there was no second attack or a second impact, and the doctors said there were no indications of such. Also, the fact that I didn't hit concrete but the grassy part surrounding the pavement meant the dirt absorbed a significant part of the impact. (I saw my x-ray, and the doctor pointed out the parts of the bone on my forehead and jaw where I had my operations. The little cheek implants could clearly be seen because x-rays don't really penetrate saline implants. I asked about some spots and lines in the x-rays - hardly more than little white pinpricks and thin lines like white string - and the doctor said that they were the x-ray shadows of scar tissue.)

Anyway, the doctor said that, aside from the black eye and concussion, the x-ray and other tests showed that I was fine, and my "facial modifications" were fine. Didn't like that doctor's bedside manner much but he was pretty efficient and thorough, and was studiously polite, so I didn't let it bother me much.

I'm okay, or as okay as one can be under these circumstances. I SMS'd Sammi that I'll be going to the office on Monday, and she texted me back with some good wishes, and that HR has said they will be meeting me at the office, but there's nothing to worry about - they just wanted to "touch base" and to make plans. Guess I had some thinking to do this weekend, and think about where to go from here, and be ready for the HR guys. Maybe I'll call my lawyer for some advise, or maybe bring him with me to the office.

And maybe it’s also time to “fess up” with Nikki.

My therapist called a while ago, and she’s coming over to pay me a rare house call tomorrow afternoon — we’re gonna be doing our weekly session here. She also said that it might be good to have my room mate and Nikki there, too. I’m still trying to figure out if that’s a good idea. And if she's here Saturday afternoon, then I guess I really do have to tell her everything.

So, that's mostly it. Sorry about the matter-of-fact tone of this post, but I'm trying not to be negative. I'm trying real, real hard. Anyway. I guess that’s it for now. I had a good run, but, like I said before, maybe the bill's come, and it's time to pay... Ah, don't mind me - I'm just feeling cynical.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #50: Lecturing the Troops - Longest Day Ever To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Bobbie, addressing the individual projects teams (one address per team), the whole morning of Wednesday, September 22:

"I'm sorry to be taking you out of your regular routines and schedules, but as I said to your bosses, I promise to only take up, at most, five minutes of your time.

"I am sure you have heard what happened to me last week. Well, I, and our company's management will not stand for such bigotry or harassment. I am officially authorized to tell you that that man who I had that altercation with was fired by the company on the same day of the incident.

"If, for whatever reason, you have problems with me, whether professional, commercial or personal, my door is open - let's work it out. Failing that, or if you would rather not talk with me, please talk with your immediate supervisor. If you do not get satisfaction, you are welcome to escalate it to higher authority.

"If you feel that you cannot work with me despite all of this, I have been authorized to tell you that Management will be open to any requests for transfer to a different branch or office, so long as there is a vacancy that you are qualified for, or you are free to seek employment elsewhere and HR will facilitate processing your paperwork, with all benefits due you.

"I am putting everyone on notice that any actions that may cause a fall-off in productivity, or sow discontent, that can be construed to have begun with any form of bigotry or harassment, shall be severely dealt with.

"As I am only authorized to take five minutes of your time, please reserve your questions. HR, our Branch Manager and myself, will be onhand after office hours to entertain your questions, or you may talk to my executive assistant at any time she is free.

"Thank you."

Bobbie in her office, handling an employee after she'd given the same speech several times to the different units and teams of the branch office

Employee (barging into Bobbie's office unannounced and unexpectedly): "So?"

Bobbie (standing, and starting to be angry): "What do you mean, 'So?'"

Employee (belligerently): "You called me."

Bobbie: "I did not call you. I asked to meet with your team, not just you."

Employee (sitting down in Bobbie's guest chair, uninvited): "same difference."

Bobbie (buzzing Sammi): "Sammi, can you please come over?"

Sammi (over the phone intercom): "Right away, Maam."

Sammi (after a few moments): "Yes, Maam?"

Bobbie (pointing at the man): "This person doesn't have an appointment, and does not want to leave my office."

Sammi (thumbing a security radio, with a short burst of static): "Security, this is Ms Cabot's executive assistant. Please send someone to Ms Cabot's office, right away, please."

Employee (surprised): "What? Assistant?"

Security (over the radio): "Acknowledged."

Employee (a little panicked): "Ummm, I think I better leave."

Bobbie: "I think you should."

Employee (very subdued): "Ummm, Maam? May I ask what the meeting was about?"

Bobbie: "Where were you when I met with your team?"

Employee (sheepish): "Ummm, I was out in the parking lot, smoking, maam. I didn't want to bother anyone with..."

Bobbie (cutting him off): "Sammi, please bring me this man's file, and have security escort him to his desk. We don't want him wasting more of the company's time."

Sammi: "Yes, Maam. Security? Cancel that call. Reception desk two, please."

Security: "Acknowledged."

Bobbie (to employee): "I'm sure your office mates can brief you. If you have any further questions, talk to Sammi."

(Sammi drags the man by the arm out of the room)

Employee (sheepishly, to Bobbie): "Ummm, sorry, maam..."

Bobbie, in her office, at the end of the day, tired to death

Wednesday was a long day, although the meeting after work was actually more relaxing than anything, as no one was being difficult, and everyone was trying to show that they were on my side and that they were not in the least bit bigoted. Seems that little "meeting" with that employee made the rounds, and, I guess, coupled with my speech, it put everyone on notice. Fear of losing job security is a great tool to create better understanding among work-mates (and, yes, I'm being sarcastic). To be fair, though, most didn't care, and many were okay with it. The few that weren't - well, like I said... job security and such...

I had a couple of meetings with my boss and HR reps before that day, plus meetings with my lawyer and my therapist, and that song-and-dance Wednesday was largely concocted by my therapist and lawyer, with prior approval of the HR people:

We had composed the speech, with several things that had the particular nuances that my lawyer wanted: "I have been authorized" etc., plus words like "Bigotry" and "harassment" thrown in, as well as making sure that arrangements were made with security to be on standby, and to be ready to have belligerent people taken care of. For the other things, like referring to Sammi as "my executive assistant" or having me deliver the speech alone, and to not smile and be totally serious for the next few days - that was my therapist's contribution (to put everyone on notice that I was someone with clout, and will not brook any screw-ups et cetera). She also insisted on keeping the door open to meet with them after work.

It was especially hard for me to keep being stern and so on, and not let it affect me. At the end of the day, I practically collapsed from the tension and the emotions that I had been keeping bottled up. It's still very... brisk in the office, except for those that consider me a friend, and, though I couldn't really express my gratitude much, maybe after a few weeks have passed, maybe I can treat them to dinner or something.

I am keeping a portable voice-activated digital recorder on all the time, as my lawyer said it would come in handy in case someone says or does something "untoward" (my lawyer says, with the "one-party consent" statutes in DC, I am legally allowed to to this). I have been saving all the voice files onto my computer, and maybe I'll buy a couple of blank disks to save them on, and keep a set in a safe deposit box.

I didn't really plan on writing all of this, but with all the concerned private messages and emails from people like Aunt Andrea, Sephy, Theide, Beth, Holly and lots n lots n lots of others, I guess I felt I had to post this, if just to assure them that I'm doin' okay... Okay? lol

But no fool I - I have three new pepper sprayers: one looks like a lipstick which I keep in my purse at all times. A regular one that I carry when I jog (or will carry, rather - my lawyer said to hold off on any further jogging for a few weeks or so, and be sure no one's stalking me or anything like that), and a non-pressurized one that I can keep in the car. And I and my room mate are not going out much, at least for now. I have a speed-button on my phone for the police, and all that. So I think I'm covered.

I won't go into the legal things (I think it's best to keep that confidential for now) but suffice it to say, I'm staying. At least for now. Changing jobs, cities, closing up my internet alter-egos etc. and going maximum stealth - those are all things to think about. But right now, it's time to regroup.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #51: Donating some clothes to Goodwill To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

For the past couple of weeks, my roommate and I have been sort-of shut-ins, owing to my lawyer's recommendation to stay in for a while and my innate scaredy-cat nature. No going out, jogging, shopping, or eating out. The both of us were having a bit of cabin fever. Being all by myself was nothing new - being by myself didn't used to be a big deal. But, somehow, it is now.

I told my roommate she doesn't have to be a stay-at-home even if I did. Which was good since she quit her job at my office about two months ago, and she needed the job-hunting hours. With her credentials and her connections she already had several good leads and it was mostly interviews now. Still, I guess she was holding out for something she liked. It's not as if she needed the money.

Anyway, last weekend, my therapist called just as we got in toting a big takeout pizza and a couple of six-packs of Chuhai. She was just checking up on me, I guess. Anyway, I don't know how it came to it, but I happened to mention that it was refreshing to dress down, and I was looking forward to relaxing on the couch in comfy clothes, and watch movies. Anyway, she found out that my comfy clothes included a flannel shirt from before (I was a fan of Nirvana, so sue me).

Anyway, I got a lecture. Maybe "lecture" is too strong a word. It was more an explanation why that was a bad idea, and that, maybe, recent events may have made me want me to return to the past where these things haven't happened, yet (and wearing my old guy clothes may be part of that). I should look forward instead. I told her, in very a very "colorful" way, what I thought of that. I told her I didn't used to wear bras or skinny jeans or high-heel peep-toe booties, so how could she say I was retreating into the past, even if only in a symbolic way. And besides, boyfriend shirts are in today.

In the end, she convinced me, and I promised to get rid of any remaining guy’s stuff I may have in my closet. So yesterday, I had boxed whatever clothes I had in my closet that I had kept from before. They didn't fill up the box so I supplemented it with some other stuff I didn't want to keep anymore, brought the box to Goodwill, and waited for my receipt. (While I waited, my room mate wandered round the store and later she said she got some good ideas for Halloween costumes from seeing all the pre-owned stuff for sale.)

I still say she was off the mark and was over-reacting. But on the off-chance she was even halfway right, I decided to get rid of the clothes. The funny thing though was, when I got my receipt, it listed a dozen women's long-sleeved shirts, along with my other stuff.

See? Even the Goodwill clerk thought they were women's shirts.

Oh, well.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #52: All alone in the middle of a crowd To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I've been having lunch at work alone for the past few of weeks, or just eating in my office by myself. Pretty lonely actually. Yes, it is possible to be alone even if you're surrounded with people.

But everyone was afraid to talk to me, I suppose for fear of saying the wrong thing, and maybe lose their jobs. More than half of the branch's staff has been re-assigned to other branches or out-and-out retrenched, while a handful was offered accelerated retirement packages.

Can't really blame them, actually. What with the "incident" and the problems of the economy and the company. Yesterday, I was actually in the main office, trying to convince the top brass to lift the hiring ban for our branch. Didn't work, though, and I'm still trying to figure what to say on Monday, and help figure out what to do about having to manage with just half of the staff. Maybe I can call my boss for some advice. Or rather, ex-boss. I did call Sammi after the meeting and told her what happened. So the news is probably all over the office by now.

Anyway..

Truth is I feel a little demotivated nowadays. And, although eating alone is nothing major and things like these never used to matter - now, it does. I've been wondering why. Anyway, like I said, I'm a little demotivated.

Anyway, a couple of days ago, as I finished the lunch I barely tasted, all alone again, a couple of my jogging mates came over, proffering an ice cream bar.

It was a peace offering of sorts. Maybe not a peace offering exactly, but they said they were through avoiding me. I was touched by the gesture - a bit teary-eyed, actually. And we had a good time catching up on things as we finished off our ice cream bars. But I had to cut things short, and said we needed to get to work. Had to provide a good example, y'know. But I said I'd treat them out to dinner or something some other time, and have a proper visit. That's what girlfriends do.

And it would have been nice if that was the start of things going back to the way they were, but that would have been too good to be true. Happy endings only happen in movies, like in the movie, Love Actually or something like that - where everything ends the way you want it to. The people who didn't like me still didn't, and those that were still afraid to talk to me still were. And, I suspect, my two friends won't be too popular.

I guess we'll manage.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #53: Getting tough, sort of To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Last Friday I moved into the new room. It was larger and so much better than my itty-bitty office with the glass front. The new one has a glass front, too, but this one has vertical Venetian blinds (I googled them and found out they're called track blinds) that you could twist the slats open or closed, or slide them aside altogether by pulling on cords, or by pressing a little button on the desk. So if I wanted some privacy or had a meeting, I could slide the blinds over the glass and close them.

It also had windows in the back that faced northeast, that looked out to the outside sunshine, the parking lot and the trees that hid the plant from the highway. Best of all, they could be opened to the outside if needed.

Also, it was outfitted with a big wooden desk. Clearly, the desk wasn't part of the standard furnishings, and per Sammi, it was just a cheap used desk that was put in when the building was first put up maybe fifteen years ago, and was intended to be for temporary use only until all the real furnishings were delivered. But for whatever reason, it was never replaced. Anyway, it's mine now, along with a couple of heavy duty shelves which Sammi had quickly filled up with a lot of ring binders and folders of all the stuff I was now handling.

My old boss handed me the office and desk keys when she and some of the HR people met me in the morning, and I now have drawers that I could lock and put my purse and other stuff away. (My new position had been officially announced, despite the fact I've been doing the job unofficially for over a month now, which accounted for my moving in to the new office) It was so large that my leather blotter, little desk fan and lamp, netbook and a little in-box/outbox tray in the corner, hardly filled up the top. I was going to be assigned a nice ThinkPad laptop but it hadn't been delivered yet so I had to make do with my personal netbook for now. (The techs had transferred my stuff from my old desktop to a portable drive for the moment)

In a corner were a small LaserJet printer and a small free-standing shredder. Beside them was a small table that looked like a tall coffee table, with a little thermos and a 5-cup drip coffee maker, some mugs and a small coffee service. There were two visitors’ chairs plus a small couch that leaned against the glass front. Flush against the left wall was a small closet where I could put away my coat and my wardrobe bag which contained the de rigueur suit. (Sammi had already moved them in there when I got back from lunch, as well as my little wheelie bag, overnighter kit and spare shoes.)

I had second thoughts about the large leather chair — it was too big and looked more appropriate for a man. But my old boss said that I shouldn't replace it since, as most managers know, there's some symbolism behind big “boss’s chairs” that she said I would find useful. So I made do, adjusting it to a comfortable height and pulling up the lever that stops the chair from leaning backward.

I, as well as some of the staff, had said goodbye to our old boss (and friend) before lunch, which probably accounted for my bad mood. Anyway, since everything's out in the open now, I had decided to get tough and called some of my new direct reports for a meeting. I had cranked up all their deadlines with the hope of accruing some savings and freeing up people earlier so that we could accept more projects and make our little branch more financially productive. Maybe by end-of-year, we can get the hiring moratorium lifted and get more people in, or at the very least, improve the image of our branch and get some job security for everyone, for one more year at least.

I guess all of this worry & work, and the departure of my old boss had put me in a bad mood so I couldn’t really enjoy my new office, and this bad mood spilled onto the people who were logged on to the chatroom late Friday evening (my apologies to those who had to endure my ranting and whining).

But, y'know, despite all of this, I felt my sort-of isolation evaporate. People's feelings hadn't changed, I'm sure, but no one was going out her way to avoid me anymore, perhaps because they knew they had to work with me now and they therefore couldn't deliberately avoid me. There were a lot of people who congratulated me and everything, but I guess that was just for show and perhaps for collecting brownie points.

That afternoon, my tough stance, though not unheard of, lessened the number of suggestions I was used to. The meeting wasn't the open-style type of meeting that I liked, but I didn't regret being brusque and abrupt, and raising my voice from time to time. Perhaps my bottled-up resentment of the month-long pseudo-isolation had bubbled up, and perhaps a little bit of anger still remained at that thing that happened September 13.

I think I'm over it now. I hope I am. I know things can't go back to the way they were, but I hope things start to normalize.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #54: A guitar-playing Vulcan at the office Halloween party To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Though our branch office had a tight budget, before she left, our old boss approved a small budget for a little Halloween party. Everything was already set - the little party committee in charge had lined up a place for the party, a band, food and drinks, a sound system and stuff. But for a little more, we could have an open bar. They also needed some music as the selection the place had wasn't exactly... current.

So they took me aside a couple of days ago, and asked. It wasn't that much so I endorsed the expense. I also said I had a bunch of songs they can use and later in the day, I lent them a thumb drive with lots of my favorite pop songs. Also, they were able to make me agree to participate in the talent contest...

Anyway, I originally planned on just passing by and saying hi and leaving, now, I had to come, expose my so-called "talents" to ridicule. And in costume, no less.

Still, like a real girl, I started worrying what to wear. Although, after maybe fifteen minutes, I started worrying about a different sort of thing. Given what had "happened" and what they know about me, what impression would it give if I were to be in one of the regular Halloween costumes for girls - witch, ballerina, devil girl, sexy vampire girl, et cetera? And if I were to wear a guy costume - well, same problem.

Anyway, my room mate went with me to the party Friday to give me moral support. She knew most of the people as she used to work for the company. She went dressed as Faye Valentine from Cowboy Bebop, and wore a costume she made herself from a little girl's yellow bathing suit, a red half sweater, stockings, black garters and sexy white booties.

She looked real good, and though most everyone didn't recognize who she was supposed to be, it didn't stop the compliments from coming, especially from the guys.

After I got settled, though, she left to go to another office party she had promised to attend.

Sammi had said that there would be security present, and I suspected that a couple of the wait staff that was there in costume was probably security people.

Anyway, I had come in a Star Trek TNG costume - I wanted to dress in something more sexy and feminine, but I decided against that - the TNG uniform was unisex enough that my costume concerns were skirted. Plus I was a big Trek fan (I didn't pick the skirt version but the one with the pants).

So, I wore Spock ears and my blue TNG science officer uniform. And this allowed me to circulate fairly ok without any awkwardness about my dress.

The band played some low-key music as everyone munched on little matchbox-size steak slices (prime rib and steak are some of the place's specialties), little canapés, sushi and other stuff, and no one was ever without a drink. The open bar was a great idea, and that was probably what made the party, though I myself stuck with Mountain Dew in a tall Collins glass (so people will assume I was drinking as well) - I knew I didn't take liquor well.

The talent contest started at around nine, and there were ten entries or so (though I suspect that some of them were "volunteered" like me). Most decided to sing, though a few couples danced, and there was one who did magic tricks (he was dressed in tails and a top hat).

I had decided to sing as well, although I was the only one who brought a musical instrument (I brought my 3/4-size Squier Stratocaster). The ones who sang sung one song each, as well as me - I played The Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction" with accompaniment from the band, though later after the contest, I joined the band again and sang/played two more songs.

I told the organizers that I should be taken out of the running in the contest, and the one that won was our lone Magician. He got a nice iPad for his trouble, and the second and third placers won a real nice Altec Lansing stereo/iPod speaker and a nifty little Audiovox portable TV.

Anyway, after the awards, I "jammed" with the band with Aha's "Take on Me" and Jack Black's and Ceelo Green's version of Kung Fu Fighting (the cover from the movie, Kung Fu Panda). I think everyone enjoyed those, and after that, the band ended their set, and canned music took over (the guys used lots from the files I gave) until the night ended at around 1AM or so.

Since I was one of the few who didn't drink, I brought a couple of the girls home.

Still, it was a fun time, though I know this hasn't changed anything in the office for me. But at least I enjoyed the night. And who knows - maybe it will change things.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #55: Brrrrr... To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Everything's working out at the office - work-wise, I mean. All of the branch office's pending stuff is about done, and it looks like it'll be an early Christmas for everybody this year (except for those slackers who got the office in this pickle in the first place, that is).

As for office-people stuff... well everything seems to be the same, more or less. Which is too bad. That is to say, most of the people are still staying away. But my friends, the handful that didn't/weren't transfer/ed, were still my friends. In fact, we all have a lunch date tomorrow, and my room mate's tagging along. (It's going to be dutch, of course - everyone's saving their pennies for the Thanksgiving Break and the upcoming Black Friday sales) And maybe watch a movie or something after, and try to get things back to normal.

And speaking of trying to get back to normal, I have resumed my regular jogging routine. Again. Yup, despite the cold weather, I had a jog this morning, and a couple of my officemates joined me.

Talk about cold!!! Still, I was toasty-warm in my semi-new jogging suit (semi-new on account of I bought it like over a year ago, but this was the first time I was wearing it). The hour-long jog was not as chatty as our other jogs, but it was ok. I think the term is "companionable silence."

Well, whatever. I enjoyed the morning. And we went to Soho, our usual coffee place, for a drink and a chat. Seems everyone's excited about what's happening in the office. And I confirmed that, for all the teams who get their papers signed off by next week, they get all their bonuses and incentives cleared, and if ALL teams finish by next week, all vacation leaves (provided work isn't affected) will get approved. Early Christmas! Yayyy!

Most of the talk was nice, and I missed it. Everyone commented on why I was unusually quiet, but I just shrugged and smiled. I missed this.

There were some traces of discussion about what happened two months ago (could it be that long ago?), but it was mostly positive. For example - seems they all bought their own pepper sprayers - one had what looked like a no-nonsense black tube, the other had one of those awful-looking Mace things. I then showed mine - I couldn't find my regular one, and brought the one I always kept in my purse, which looked like a silver lipstick tube. The two made appreciative noises, and they said they wanted one, too, so I gave them the address of the gun shop where I bought it, and said that they had the forms there as well, so they could fill them up right away and mail them off to the police (In DC, if you buy a pepper sprayer, you had to fill up a form and send it, as well as a zerox of your driver's license, to the police).

Anyway, I'm feeling good. Even though it was a bit overcast, everything seemed to be a lot brighter. I commented about that with my room mate after I got back and had a shower. And, for whatever reason, she gave me a hug.

Anyway, I'm feeling okay today. Hope this feeling lasts for a while.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #56: A girl and her laptop To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

At last I got my new laptop last Thursday. And I didn't have to wait long for it, too. Just two months...

Anyway, I got my laptop, and I couldn't stop playing with my toy the whole day. So it was a good thing that there was little to do around the office at the time.

You see, for three days, all the team leads were hard at work getting their system and user acceptance test results signed off by their clients (the last one got signed that day), and we informed accounting to arrange for the final performance billing for all of the branch's outstanding projects. I could imagine the consternation in accounting. It also meant all the project teams were done for the year! (Except for the final paperwork...) So everyone was filing vacation leaves, although the team leads whose "lollygagging" (as my spinster aunt would put it) landed us in this pickle in the first place won't be getting any vacation anytime soon. (That aunt of mine is from my dad's side, so one would wonder why a sixty-five-year-old lady who lives in Quebec would be using words like "lollygag." Je ne sais pas, alors ne me demandez pas.)

Anyway, like I said, there was not much to do that day, which allowed me to be alone with my new baby. I transferred all of my files from the portable drive to my new Thinkpad, set up my Outlook account, and all the programs I regularly use. Although I had to let IT know what I loaded - all people from lower management up are allowed to load programs so long as they're authorized or licensed, but they had to let IT know.

It was also a good thing that I got the laptop when I did - it gave me something to occupy my time the following day as I had a three-hour road trip to HQ, and the trip went real quick. And the particular model I got had 3G wireless WAN and all necessary peripherals for wireless internet, so I was surfing all the way to New York.

I won't get into the rest of my machine's specs, but it sure had plenty of oomph and storage, and would be great for most anything I can think of, including multimedia stuff. The night before, I had my usual bout of insomnia, but with my new toy, I had something to occupy me.

I always feel this way when I get something that I wanted. Nowadays, I feel like this when I buy shoes or a nice outfit or something like that. I suppose that "instinct" to acquire things that women seem to have is a natural thing, but does it apply to girls like me. All in all, though, it might not be altogether a female malady. Most of the guys I work with are very particular about their computers. But then again, I am in the IT field so that shouldn't be too uncommon. Although I don't see the girls salivating over their electronics. At least not as much, anyway.

I did notice though that a lot of them have, ummm, "customized" their laptops in different ways, and the girls' computers tend to more colorful - what with the stickers and stuff they put on them. The tech that delivered my computer said I could have gotten one in red, but I wondered why the tech assumed I wanted it in red. Belatedly, I guessed that girls went for the colored ones when they could, but I went for the traditional black.

This "color controversy" made me think that there are actually fundamental differences with the tastes of guys versus girls which are genetically based.

But I don't care about that right now. I got a shiny new computer.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #57: Thanksgiving, for real To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I'm in a good place today. Never would have thought I would be, especially after what happened a couple of months ago. But here we are.

I guess I wouldn't think so, but lots of things - good things - have been happening to me recently. And, true, what happened two months ago was not a good thing, but it's forced me to take a more aggressive attitude towards things. Perhaps "aggressive" is not exactly the right word, though the only other word that comes to mind is "assertive," but that also feels wrong, but I think you know what I mean. And it's made me less shy, and more willing to fight for my rights. Sure, they're not anything major, like the right to free speech et cetera, but very important to someone like me - like the right to be given attention while speaking in a meeting, or the right to my spot in a line, or the right not to be nervous while picking out my girl clothes in my favorite store. Stupid, huh? But I think I am less shy, more assertive, nowadays, and more willing to believe that I'm worthy of my dreams, or at least stand my ground and fight for them.

It's a confluence of things, really. My friends willing to go out of their way to show support, and to defend me if need be; those not my friends not doing anything really bad; the basic legal statutes of the city and state being in my favor; and my company bending over backwards to support and protect (although I know they're only doing so because of self interest and not out of any kind of altruism) - without these, I'm sure I would not be as fearless or as willing to stake whatever it was that was in me to stake, and perhaps because of this, I think I am better off. The fact that no other major negative stuff has happened, and at the same time lots of good things, materially-wise, have been happening just reinforces this feeling.

So I have lots to be thankful for.

My room mate and I are having late Thanksgiving lunch at my folks later, maybe go and window-shop a bit or watch a movie afterwards, and then later in the evening, we're going to my old buddy's place (a pre-RLT/SRS buddy) and have thanksgiving dinner. He's gonna introduce his new significant other to me and my other pre-SRS buds (I think I blogged about them before). I just hope my room mate can take the double whammy of my folks and my geeky friends on the same day. Maybe I'll blog about it later.

Tomorrow, I think we're gonna stay in and just veg out. It's tempting to shop - what with the numerous sales that'll be happening tomorrow, but my room mate and I have decided to save our money and not make any major purchases until we've moved in to the new place in January. We don't really have room for new stuff in the apartment, and the move is still in January. Yes, I'm giving up my apartment of eight years and will be moving to a nice one-story bank-owned post-foreclosure house in the burbs, courtesy of my company and the country's real estate meltdown. Timing might be off, but we have to move in within a month or so otherwise the company won't be able to get the place for us at the preferred cost.

Anyway - like I said, it's a real, honest-to-goodness thanksgiving day for me.

Hope you, too, have a good Thanksgiving.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #58: Leaving BCTS and saying my goodbyes - My Final Blog To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

I have been a member of this site for more than one year and four months: sixty-nine tumultuous weeks; three hundred and seventy-plus eventful days. And a lot has happened in that time.

As all of those who have read my blog know, I transitioned a long time, ago - over five years ago, actually, yet I hadn't fully adjusted. This has led my long-time therapist, who was there at the beginning of this journey of mine, to doubt her agreement to my transitioning.

There are a significant number (not that many but a significant number nevertheless) of people out there that transitioned but, in the end, regretted the transition. It is especially tragic for surgical MTF transitioners who were "misdiagnosed" in this way, as there is not even the possibility of going back, as opposed to those who just chemically transitioned, where transitioning back is at least a possibility. There are lots of reasons why, but most seem to be because of unrealistic expectations, or that they weren't stable enough to transition, or the reasons that made them think they were born into the wrong gender were not the right ones.

The fact that I had trouble acclimating myself to my new reality - uncomfortable in accepting compliments, for example, and thinking I'm a fake a lot of the time, and being so insecure in my new outward identity - it made my therapist worry - and she has been with me for a long time, trying to find out if there was indeed a "misdiagnosis," or if I was just inordinately neurotic :p

A few weeks ago, she laughingly expressed the opinion that it was like dealing with a teenager helping her get used to things as she grew up. In a way, this part of my journey is like a second childhood (I actually wanted to say "second teenager-hood," but who ever heard of a "teenager-hood"), where I learned the ropes of how it is to be a woman.

She also said that my previous years of post-transition time were somewhat different from this one. She thinks 2010 is some sort of watershed year for me, and that in the previous five years, I was just... coasting.

I had this idealized image of what kind of girl I thought I ought to be, and I did my level-best to make that image a reality: feminine, poised, attractive (ha! I wish), have a family, a husband even - somehow not all of that felt right. For example, the three men that I've had sexual relations with (yeah, just three men. I'm a prude, yeah, yeah) - that didn't feel right. Oh, they were fine, though I don't imagine guys wanting to hear that from a girl (So how was I last night? Fine? Fine?! I was just fine?!!). But what can I say? Guys are okay, but the best thing I can say is that there's no zing. It's fine, and feels great, and it can be fun, but I guess it's not what I prefer. Sex with guys? Meh...

Perhaps I just wasn't lucky in that I didn't get good partners. Or maybe it's how I am now - after all it's mostly the male hormones that give men and, yes, women, their sexual drive (natural women DO make male hormones, though very little compared to men). I guess I am being a little unfair to those guys - actually, I was lucky - I mean, everyone has heard of the horror stories of how men can be. These three were gentlemen, and were kind to me. They were witty and interesting, and one of them was very good looking. But of the three, though, if I had to pick one, I'd pick the one that was closest to my age. In another time and place, I would want him to be a friend, a buddy.

One thing, though - being with a man, I can't help but feel more feminine, and though I feel so much more fragile and vulnerable with them, I feel vulnerable but protected, especially with a big guy's arm around me. A good, feminine kind of vulnerability. Sorry, that's the best way I can put it.

Before SRS, one of the major things I worried about was how to pass easily for a girl. So, after SRS, as soon as my condition allowed, I had a bunch of cosmetic operations, which included fixing my forehead, my hairline, my ears, my cheeks, eyes and eyebrow ridges, jaw, nose, and Adam’s apple (as well as a heck of a of a lot of electrolysis sessions on my cheeks, neck, arms, armpits, thighs, legs, and on not-so-obvious parts of my anatomy). I sold or hocked everything I had to sell or hock, and borrowed what I could so I could have these operations. But, after all of those operations, I didn't have much left for a boob or ass job, so I made do with my pair of undersized B's, and less junk in my trunk.

Anyway, it was only this year that I was able to pay everything back, so that meant I was barely making ends meet for a looong time (and I am not saying how bad that was) and had to find ways to still indulge my obsession with shoes and, to a certain extent, clothes, although it took me a while to develop a working clothes sense of a sort, and quit dressing so... schoolmarmish, or like a badly-dressed tranny. (And I'm not saying that all trannies dress like that. I blogged a bit about that before, I think.)

So, thanks to the magic of plastic surgery, passing wasn't too much of a problem. To help them, I had provided my doctors with pictures of my sister in high school and some old pictures of mom when she was young. I ended up looking a lot like my mom and sis, with some overtones of dad. So, when people see me with my folks and/or my sister, I'm sure people assume we're all related. But I guess that wasn't so difficult to accomplish by the doctors since we WERE related to begin with.

Even so, I had problems in accepting compliments for my looks, or even believe that I look genuine, as I still thought that much of me was a fake.

Actually, I've always had problems with my looks. I was short and effeminate in school, and had to endure bullies. Now that I'm a girl, I suppose being petite is appropriate, but even among girls, I'm pretty short. I suppose my bad experiences when I was young have cemented my dislike of being so... vertically challenged. (I'm a trifle below 5'1") I supposed that's one of the big reasons why I love high heels. But recently I've become more willing to accept compliments, and, deep down, I think I have now started to believe that I'm a real girl, and that I deserve my place in this world. My therapist doesn't have doubts about my transition anymore.

Being in BCTS is an education. Coz it's easy to be kind, and there are a lot here who are kind (and for that I'm very, very grateful). You have to work at it to make people feel bad, but there are a few here (as there are everywhere) who are very eager and willing to put in the work needed, and be ready to pick a fight, to find fault, or be there all ready to cast a disparaging word just because. So I learned to fight back a bit, but I also tried to help and encourage when I can, and to tolerate those that are more inept than I (though I can't think of anyone more inept than me heehee) in people interaction, and not pick on them as people are wont to do at those that are considered outsiders or, well... a bit off. I say to myself, aren't all of us here outsiders and off-kilter in many ways, so don't we all need to be treated fairly, or at the very least, kindly?

In the short period that I was here, a lot has happened to me personally: family emergencies, losing friends, but at the same time gaining new ones (and a few times actually regaining some friends that I thought I had lost), working it out with my folks, losing a job, getting a job, jogging regularly, finally putting "paid" to all my debts, learning to interact better, a promotion, and having that fight in the office (including the legal things that came with it, and the neuroses that threatened to undo all that I and my therapist had worked so hard on for seven sad-lonely-happy years).

In a way, that fight was the main catalyst for me, for that forced me to adjust, and to face up to things, and with all the good things that coincidentally followed that event, I think those good things helped me to push on with my resolve, and I think I made the proverbial turn in the road of this new existence of mine.

I now have solid prospects in my job, and, despite my being outed, I think I will be able to maintain my position and still move forward. I am finally leaving my apartment and getting a real home - one that we are moving into this January. I have good, new faithful friends, both in the internet, such as those from here in BCTS, and in the real world. And, very importantly, I think I have found a partner (stress on the word "think"). We are not a traditional couple (she's a girl after all, AND from Japan no less) but after my foray into heterosexual relationships, and comparing that to the relationship I now have with my special person, (I think she's the one, but only time will tell) I guess I have to get used to being labeled a lesbian (or perhaps I'm bi, but with a strong preference for girls heehee).

In the first post of my WORKING GIRL blogs, I said the following:

"I am thankful that I discovered BCTS, and though many of those who have transitioned like me do not like to be part of such communities (my therapist says they'd rather forget their own papier mache years for they are too painful), I guess I am still not yet fully past the turn in the road, so that's why I am still here. I am actually scared that if I come to that goal-of-goals, I myself might visit BCTS less and less. I hope not."

So, this brings me to the real subject of this blog.

After a long time inventorying my feelings, my goals in life, my current situation, and everything else that matters, like I said I think I have made the turn, so I am finally saying goodbye, and moving on. And that's why I blogged what I blogged just now, as a way of explaining this decision.

Don't get me wrong - everything is far from perfect, but I think I have made the turn. Just that.

So I won't be posting new blogs, nor post comments about other members' blogs and stories. However, I still intend to post stories here on occasion (though I doubt if this will be frequent) and I will definitely respond to the comments on my existing ones. I feel like I'm in a different place in my life, different from where I was when I wrote Danny and the other ones, so writing these types of stories will be difficult. I will try my best, though, and will definitely finish my Danny, Library and Witch stories, plus the new version of my Dumdums book, as well as that little editing job for Gwen that is very overdue, and will try to write new stories if I can (This is the closest I can to leaving, yet still get my BCTS "fix.")

Needless to say, this will be the last of my Working Girl blogs. I cannot say how much I have loved everyone's comments, private messages and emails, as well as the late night chats in the BCTS/stardust chatrooms (pardon me for not naming names - but my friends know who they are, and I will not mention them here for fear of missing some) but I think I'm not gonna be doing these things anymore.

I am not in the same place in my life anymore. And I fear that, if I stay here, the temptation to backslide will not go away, and knowing my fragile psyche, I cannot afford that.

I am not gonna go stealth, don't get me wrong (although that will always be an option), coz anyone who wants to talk with me can always send me a BCTS PM, an email, (for those who know my email address, that is) or we can even spend time chatting privately online perhaps via Yahoo Messenger, or a Yahoo or Google chatroom or something.

I am not saying that BCTS and the other TS-related online communities that I've been part of are not good places to be in. I'm just saying I have to leave. But who knows? Maybe sometime in the future, I might be back. Like anyone who might get in trouble in the future, it's always a comfort to know I can go back home for support.

I love you all, and, from the bottom of my heart and soul, thank you.

Goodbye.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #59: A Danny Christmas Commercial To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Hi, everyone!

As some of you know, I am not too fond of using blogs as a means of advertising upcoming stories, and here I am doing the same thing. So, if you have that same peeve as I, tune out now.

That should be good news for some, right? Because this blog doesn't mean I'm back, heehee. Just another story commercial...

Lots have been happening in the short seventeen days since I posted #58. But I won't bore you all with the details, except to say that it's all good. Mostly. And I am doin' great! Super-fine, in fact. But I'm getting away from the point of this blog-commercial.

Keeping my word, and responding to those who posted comments, or sent me PMs and emails, I'd just like to say that, I am on the tail end of writing the next installment of my one-n-only readable story here in the Big Closet. I was hoping to have the story up by Christmas. Alas, my mediocre skills are not up to the task. BUT! Like Huckleberry Finn throwing his hat over the fence and saying, now he has no choice but to climb over the fence to get his hat, I say that I will have the story out on or before December 31. There. I said it. Now, like Huck, I have no choice but to post it by December 31...

I'd guess you can say it's like a belated Christmas gift to those who wrote, asking about Danny.

And speaking about those who wrote, I assure you all that, indeed, I have read ALL your little notes, comments and emails, and, as you see, I am doing my best to respond. Also, though I don't visit much, I had one of my girls write a little program for me that checks the site occassionally for PMs so I won't miss any. (Erin and the administrators have nothing to worry about - it's not like a smartbot or anything that can mess up the site: it's just a little Windows keystroke sim that logs on and copies my BCTS Inbox list, and it should log out in less that 30 seconds. And I guarantee it won't mess up or lock up the Closet.)

Anyway, so that's my news. December 31. Watch out for it. (And, if my luck holds out, maybe I can finish up a couple more about Kim and Mark soon as well.)

From the both of us to all of you - Happy Holidays, everyone!!

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

* picture credit: Hey Monday

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #60: Merry Day-After-Christmas! To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

Talk about a white Christmas...

We spent Christmas Day at my folks' place, along with some family friends, plus a handful of relatives from my mom's side - some Aunts and Uncles and several cousins from New Jersey. (yeah, yeah) If my sister and brother-in-law could have made it, it would have been like a reunion.

But as you know, weather wasn't too good. Most of the houseguests left for New York-slash-New Jersey at around five, hoping to beat the weather. My elder aunt and uncle, afraid of making the three-hour drive at night, decided to spend the night, along with my two cousins (their kids). The older ones stayed in the guest room and my room mate and I shared my old room with my cousins

Mom didn't have enough clean nightclothes to go around so my room mate, aunt and cousins were able to borrow from her, and I ended up borrowing a set of oversized pajamas from dad.

So I finally had a pajama party. Stories, video games (my old PS2 was still ok), popcorn, cookies, hot chocolate, but no playing with make-up, and the stories were mostly from me and Moe. My cousins couldn't help being curious about us (Me mostly - we weren't particularly close, but the last time they saw me, I was a boy, so they were understandably curious). But I knew something like this might happen, so I came prepared to tell my story (not all of it, of course). Anyway, they were more than nice, and we had a lot of fun. Well, I did, anyway.

So I finally had my slumber party. Sort of.

Ma's downstairs now, cooking a mess of left-over Christmas ham, fied eggs, jiffy-baked italian-style breakfast croissants (called cornettos) and home-style cappuccino (with Nestle powdered chocolate mix), so we can all have breakfast (or maybe brunch is more appropriate) before Uncle and the girls have to leave (they've decided to brave the snow before it becomes worse). Uncle is gonna top up their car's tank and ma's packing them munchies and hot chocolate just in case, and Moe n I are gonna leave as soon as we've seen 'em off. Hope Cricket behaves.

Anyway, hope you guys had a good day yesterday, and from the both of us to all of you - Merry Day-After-Christmas!

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Hameshiach qam! Be'emet qam! Happy Easter!

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 3.0 Just a Short Hello, and a Happy Easter. To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

   
   
Hello, everyone. Hope all of you are doing ok, and have been taking care of each other.

I've been doing ok, if anyone's curious - lots have happened Christmas and spring, and maybe I'll tell you guys about it. But among the major things are: ma n pop are doing okay, so's my sister n her hubby in California; my best friend finally has a boyfriend again; my room mate and I moved into our new place January; we went to Japan last month for a week or so to help out a little bit in the relief effort over there; I might be visiting Manila again next month coz of work; and there may be something major happening this June. But that's all I'm tellin heehee.

Anyway, have a wonderful, meaningful and happy Easter!

- Bobbie

p.s. New Danny, Library and Witching Hour chapters coming soon.

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #62: About a friend To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

There are many things that are wrong with the world, and there are a precious few that are right, and when you find these things, you should never let them go.

I had one of those. He had brown and white fur, four paws, liked burgers without the special sauce (or ketchup or mustard or mayonnaise or whatever other kind of sauce), fetched sticks like an aborigine with a boomerang, started to smell real funky almost exactly six days after his bath (so we make sure he gets one before then), loved my guitar playing, loved to chew up my mom's dishrags even more, liked to reserve my dad's place on the couch by growling at people who try to sit there, and he loved us and we loved him.

His name was Ricky. He was named after Ricky Ricardo coz my dad's favorite show of all time was I Love Lucy. We loved him to pieces and he died last night.

It wasn't that bad. He was twelve years and four months - pretty good for a Golden Retriever, and ma said he passed away quietly. He was sleeping a little too much lately (the vet said the medication would do that), and pop had started to check on him from time to time. Last night, when he checked, Ricky had passed away quietly. Apparently he'd been having problems for a while, but they didn't tell me and my sister because they didn't want to worry us.

It's a bit funny - a few days ago, Aunt Andrea and I were talking about our dogs - her Harley and my Ricky. And he's gone a day later.

Dumb old dogs are good - coz they don't mess themselves up with a lot of intellectualisms. They either like you or they don't. And they're loyal.

My sister and I were so happy when pop brought him home. He had a brother that we could have gotten as well but a cousin on my pop's side got him. But I am glad dad picked him from the litter. Anyway, when he came to live with us, we were all full of ideas on the kinds of tricks we would teach him and all the fun we would have together but Ricky didn't really learn any tricks. He ruined a lot of stuff in the house when he was a pup, but thankfully he grew out of that, as well as running away from us when we walked him. But he eventually connected that we were part of the walking thing, and he'd come back when we called him. But we loved him. He was part of our family.

Rick was maybe five when I started my RLT, and was confused a bit with my use of girly stuff and perfumes, but he knew it was me. After SRS, I had stayed away for almost two years, but when I came back, to try and establish some kind of rapprochement with my family, he was there as if nothing happened, being the same old Ricky, not caring how I'm dressed or.. what kind of equipment I had anymore... heehee.

He's a good guy. The best. And wherever he is, I hope they have burgers, and I hope they remember to hold the special sauce.

Ricky Cabot
1999-2011

photos are stock internet photos

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

The Working Girl Blogs Revision 2.0 Blog #63: Closure - Early Arbor Day To see all of Bobbie's Working Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

As some know from the blog, Ricky, our beloved Golden Retriever, died peacefully at Dad's early Monday morning last week. It wasn't unexpected as, apparently, he was already having several problems but my folks weren't telling me or my sister coz they didn't want to worry us.

Anyway, he passed away Monday.

My dad, being... my dad, buried him right away. He had a lot of reasons why, mostly to do with health and safety reasons. Maybe it's something he learned from the military. Anyway, he put Ricky in half a dozen biodegradable trash bags and buried him in the back yard. Dad buried him about three feet underground (he told me that it isn't really necessary to bury people six feet under), and I didn't really see him again. I guess I felt I lacked a kind of closure as the feeling of loss was mixed with a feeling of something unfinished.

My roommate went to my Dad's with me that day, and I really appreciated the moral support. She had suggested that we plant a tree, like in some traditions, and we all thought it was a great idea. So we decided we'd do it Saturday.

In typical mom fashion, Ma made it a big thing, called my sister to break the news to her, and to ask her if she and my brother-in-law could come Saturday, and then she had me call up other people that knew Ricky. For a former-boy who doesn't really want to advertise the fact, that's not such an easy thing to do. So I thought of calling my three best friends from college who already knew about me.

So yesterday, we planted a little tree sapling about a foot from where Ricky was buried. It was an ornamental cherry tree (I forget the name of the particular type) which is supposed to have very fragrant blossoms, and does not grow too tall so the upkeep would be easy.

Anyway, my three geek friends and the girlfriend of one of them were there, plus my sister and her husband flew all the way from California for the "picnic".

And it was a really great picnic. Everyone stood around as sis and I made a small hole with Dad's trowel and plopped the cherry-tree sapling's root-bulb in it, tapped the earth around it, sprayed a bit of fertilizer and tipped a half-full watering can over the tree. Then Dad brought out his old barbecue grill (which was thankfully free of rust) and grilled a bunch of chops, hotdogs, burger patties, peppers and onions.

One of my old buddies had brought a portable CD player, and I popped in one of old my mix-tape CDs I found in my old room. Though it wasn't completely sunny, it was still a good day weather-wise. The girls all wore appropriate summer attire, and my geek-buds were clearly taken by my roommate, which vaguely pissed me and my friend's girl a little bit. Moe eventually convinced me to wear "season-appropriate" attire, which my friends and my mom made much of, causing me to blush like ripe tomato.

My friend's girlfriend found it a little funny that everyone was so taken by my halter shirt and shorts, which told me she didn't know, and I guess that made me feel good coz it showed my friends knew how to keep a secret.

Beer, burgers, hotdogs, music and nice talk and a lot of reminiscing about old times made the day a good one. And, although I still miss Ricky, the whole tree thing gave me and my sister some closure. I think I can move on.

Dad said he and Ma might get a new dog.

And I think that's great.

Ricky Cabot
1999-2011

photos are stock internet photos

To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot