hello everyone!!!!

So I took a really LOOOOOOOOOONg hiatus, but now I'm back! The last few years have been tumultuous and busy but otherwise very productive and gratifying. I have been on the road of self-searching as I was not happy on how my life is headed, the direction I was treading was rough, patchy and a lot of road blocks. I thought I would go crazy, but my faith steered me off course and found my self in a state of religious and mental meditation. Evaluation came into play in many aspects of my self and I felt that I needed some change.I would go into details soon in my future blogs but for now I am here just to say HI to everyone and most especially to my loyal readers.




Kisses for now!


K

Being Different. Waiting for Change.

Growing up different can have its consequences.

I didn’t know what I was until I met people who were like me. Attracted to the similar sex and felt trapped in a foreign body. Instead of holding a ball, I was holding barbie’s hair and braiding it. Instead of getting grimy and dirty, I was neat and proper. Instead of ogling at sexy pictures of women, I wanted to be like those women!

Culture shapes bullies. From the beginning of time, the weaklings are regarded as useless. And the power to intimidate people dictates authority, aristocracy and strength. The beautiful and the mighty are segragated. To this time, the majority of the rich still looks down on the poor, and this is passed on to their children.

If you are weird and different, people will throw derogatory remarks. I have felt this at school, from grade school to university. Usually the rich kids get away with it because of parental influence. The school would just give them a slap on the hand. But if it were someone from my social strata, they would pass on a stern warning with a stress on expulsion.

I know better than to engage in a fight just to justify who I am. Ignore and it will go away eventually, is my mantra. Problem is, it never goes away. So I just laugh it off , try to ease the pain. And distractions are very much a welcome mat that I have established as part of my life. From watching tv, reading books to studying hard to shopping. Anything to get my mind off from the cruel world.

Everyday we read some sort of hate crime going on in all the parts of the world. Just recently, a Pride Parade in Russia was greeted with homophobes. Gay kids committing suicides. People commenting online regarding gay issues are rude and harsh, calling the live we lead as an abomination and acts of the devil.

On the bright side, there is more tolerance now more than ever. Some parents are more embracing of their children opting to be different, even at the most tender age. Angelina Jolie even lets her daughter dress up like a boy, “ because that’s what makes her happy”. More people are coming out of their closets. So I guess change is coming

Yes change will come. Slow but it will come. And for now, I’ll wait here.

 

vanity is moi

Vanity is a tranny’s best friend. It’s like being born with a mirror as a twin. We can’t stop obsessing about ourselves. One must think it’s a disease of some sort that we need an intervention or counselling, but trust me when I say this, “ vanity came the moment we transformed. And looking at the peak of beauty is our main goal”. Some other trannies might beg to differ, saying that, “ I am not vain at all!” Again, trust me when I say this, “they are lying”.

Make-up. I personally spend hundreds of good earned money on these facial enhancers. I frequent Shoppers drug mart browsing through the make- up department scoring for deals and sales. A tgirl’s face is the front runner when talking to someone, so the face must be flawless and the make-up, well perfectly applied and blended. Don’t be shocked when you are in a date with a tgirl, that everytime she goes to the bathroom, it’s not that she had so much vodka to drink, but to check herself out if her mascara didn’t run and her lipstick is still intact.
Hair products. A tgirl’s true crown is her hair. Sometimes some girls purchase expensive hair extensions (or wig) because the longer the hair, the better the seductive power is. Our trip to the salon is not just for the regular trim and cut but also for the occasional brazilian blow out or hot oil treatment or color touch up. And never ever tell a tgirl that she has gray hair. Some can be sensitive about it. For it’s a sign of growing old. And one thing that a tgirl is worried and scared of : yes, it’s growing old.
Botox.  That is why these magical injectable wrinkle remover are a tgirl’s ally. Not that I have been through this, but I know for sure I will. It  will be my occasional fountain of youth. Occasional meaning every six months. As said, growing old is an option now.
Clothes, shoes, accessories. These are what comprise my shopping budget, about 95%. They totally complete me. My life is complete when I have the latest on clothes, shoes and accessories. They complete my day. Did I say they complete me?
Perfume. I need to smell perfect. And sweet, or naughty. Depending on my mood. I love designer perfumes. Chanel is my favorite. If you want to give me a gift, Chanel Chance or Chanel Mademoiselle would be awesome. Yes, they complete me too.
Manicure and pedicure. I love well polished, clean nails both on my hands and feet. And right now I’m loving my french tipped nails. Makes me feel French. Bon jour!

Yes I am vain. Vanity flows through my vein. If looking beautiful is wrong, then I don’t want to be right. Id rather be full of myself than ignore myself and wallow in everyday mundane routine of just washing my face and brushing my teeth and taking a shower. I love to pamper my body. It is my temple. And to all my sisters who are vain like me, I praise you.

Again, I am vain. But I am not shallow. I am full of substance.
J

SRS of a friend...

Ohhhhh emmmm geeeeeeee!!!!
I woke up. I looked around. It was this teenager on her cell phone, probably texting. I stared at her for startling me up from my nap. She mouthed the words, “ I’m sorry”. I gave a forgiving smile. Now I can’t go back to sleep. This train ride would end in 20 minutes and I’ll be sleeping on my bed soon. Ahhhh my bed,  I miss it the most. Hotel beds don’t even come close to the comfort my bed brings.
So to kill time, I’ll write something for my blog, which again I have forgotten  to update. I was, the same excuse, very busy. Which seem to be my only excuse when I call overseas to talk to my family. or to visit my friends or even to go see a movie.
I was in Montreal for a few days to give support to a friend who went through SRS. To the common man, that would be Sex Reassignment Surgery. It has been her dream to finally be the woman she always wanted to be. To be free of the restraints and obstacles that her secret has kept her. To be able to wear those skimpy thongs without hardship, or plasters. And on her own words, to stare at her naked reflection without freakiness.
The process for her was a journey in itself. I know for I was there. From her psychological evaluation to her physical examination, I was the friend she can count and rely on. The excitement in her eyes were undescribable. There was  a hint of nervousness and anxiety, happiness and relief.
The day of the surgery came and she was crying. Naked under her hospital gown, on a wheel chair. I said to her, “This is it. This is the moment. There is no turning back.” She just gave me a reassuring nod. That this is what she really wanted. I wiped her tears with my thumb. She grabbed my hand,  gently closed her eyes and said thank you. I held back with my tears. This is not my moment. The nurses finally wheeled her in and the doors closed in between us. I sat there on the bench and waited for her. What seemed to be hours dwindled down to minutes. Before I kew it, I was staring at my friend, still asleep from the anesthesia. All bandaged from the waist down. The inevitable smile is etched on her pretty face though. I hope that smile will hold after the anesthesia wears down.
She went through the surgery well.  She can hold the pain with grace. But not my arm, when she buries her nails there when  I help her up to use the washroom. The stitches are still fresh, but she showed me the molds that she has to use to keep her new pussy open. They are like dildos.
I stayed there for a few more days until her sister came and she can recover in a hotel room.
My thoughts on SRS and would I do it? I’ll let you guys know soon. My train is coming to a complete halt now. And  all I’m thinking right now, is my bed.
J

my breast surgery...

My apologies for regretting my blog for such a long time.  I have been really busy travelling and doing stuff with friends and finishing businesses that need taking care of that I have forgotten to write. Anyways, I am temporarily back as I’ll be hitting the road again soon. So for my topic for now will be:  My boob surgery.

The first time I saw a tgirl with breasts was in a movie  with loud orgasms ( yep, it was porn). I was amazed how beautiful and real they were. At first I thought they were freaks for having  like a girl figure and boobs and have a protruded appendage in between the legs. I did have a nice pair of hormone breast s but I want something big! I want a cleavage! I want to wear D cup brassieres! I want it and I want it now….Of course it wasn’t that easy.

I slaved myself to earn the money.  How many cocks have been through my mouth and ass, I lost count. How many sleepless nights have I been through to accommodate clients, none. I need my beauty rest. Balance was the key. Though I wanted them so bad, I was patient.

And when  I saved up the money I immediately booked an appointment with a cosmetic surgeon where most of my friends went. Of course, I did my research too and he was the best one for me. I was excited and nervous when I saw him. But all went well, he suggested I go for my body type and not go crazy with the size. As an Asian woman, he told me a nice C or B would perfectly fit me. I went with his suggestion and settled with a nice C cup.

A schedule was set for the breast surgery itself. But I have to go back a week before for  a medical check-up. He ran down the list of things I have to do before and after the surgery.  Before: don’t eat and drink or smoke or do drugs. After: make an arrangement with someone to pick me up, get enough rest, eat, take meds and massage the boobies. And come back in a week to take the sutures out.

Everything went well the day of the surgery, no complications. But when the anaesthesia wore off, the unimaginable pain kicked in. Good thing there were pain meds,  oh gosh how i`ll die without them. The first few days were rough, especially sleeping, laying on my back and getting up. Im so lucky I have my best friend who was there to help and assist me.

After a week I had the sutures off and I was so happy with the results. I remember putting on my 36C bra the minute I got home. I never stopped staring at my reflection in the mirror. Oh I looked so good. Better now that they have settled beautifully. The silicon is softer now and jiggly. Just as I wanted them.

It`s been a few years now since I had my breasts.  I wear clothes that will enhance them all the time. You don`t get a  Porsche and just leave it in the garage,  right? Yes, baby, you show them off. J

trannies on hot news!

The past few days, some trannies have been making headlines by making themselves visible on mainstream tv and movie. Yasmin Lee and Lea T , two very gorgeous transexuals were on the news for their work on movies and runway, respectively.

Yasmin Lee would be seen in Hangover 2, playing a ladyboy prostitute who had an illicit encounter with one of the main characters. She has done a lot of tranny porn, so when she showed her pussy cock on the big screen, it wasn't an issue for her. I think after this movie, people would now be aware what a transexual girl is.

Lea T is a Brazilian transexual model who appeared on Oprah and is now the first supermodel tranny on the runway, having worked for Givenchy and the swimwear Blue Man. This shows to prove that tgirls can also strut their stuff on the catwalk.

extreme transphobia

This time around some years ago,  I received an email with this as a headline : OUR FRIEND, SHEILA HAS BEEN MURDERED.  Sheila is a tgirl friend who’ve I known for many years , being a friendly competitor in tranny beauty pageants. Upon going through the details of her untimely demise, I remember just sitting there, looking at the blinking cursor, speechless. Then tears just flowed.

Sheila was found naked on a street corner among trash and garbage, her head was repeatedly smashed with a rock. The bloody rock was just a feet away from her black and blue, mangled body. She was irrecognizable. According  to my friend’s description, she was like a rag doll that has been beaten up, thrown at the side of the street. The police arrested  a  suspect, a  male  stripper . Stories surfaced that he wanted some money to buy drugs and when she refused,  he got so violent that things  ended up tragically. Apparently that was the last report of abuse.

I thought justice has prevailed but I found out later that the suspect was released on bail even though the evidences were strong that would merit a guilty conviction. Only in my country would you see a suspect released on bail for a possible murder. That was a sad time of my life when I lost a sister  and a friend.

More stories of tranny and gay friends and acquaintances being brutally killed more or less because of their sexual orientation has been emailed to me. One thrown off the cliff, one castrated, one whose body parts were mutilated and buried in a farm, one smashed in the head with a bat…Although Sheila’s alleged killer knew she was a tgirl, she wasn’t treated the way she treated him.  Full of love, selflessness and generosity.

I hear stories like this everytime and still, everytime it scares me. I got picked up the first year I was here in Canada, and the guy made some sexual moves on me, when I told him I am not the girl he thought I was he blinked for a bit  and said, “ are you a guy?”. I nodded, and for a second I thought he would punch me when I saw his fist bulging with veins.  I quickly said I was sorry and he let me out of the car. I was still shaking when I walked to my apartment building. His face was red with rage and fury. Just imagine if I made out with him or did  something more sexual, I probably would have ended  up in the hospital by then. From then on if ever I would go out to clubs or bars, I would disclose my sexuality before we engage into anything. I don’t know how my other tgirlfriends do it  but I have heard stories where some were smacked right in the face for disillusionment.

I am not justifying either behaviour but I think getting physically violent is stepping out of the line. And killing is just plain insane. Misleading a guy ,  also in my opinion ,is  despicable. But I don’t think broadcasting one’s a tgirl is necessary, especially there is still strong evidence of transphobia in the society. Yep, I know what you’re thinking, it’s crazy what to do when confronted in this situation (unless, of course, you don’t mind that the girl is actually a man). I apologize as I can’t find a solution for this dilemma.

Someday the world will come to its terms and embrace every sexuality conceived. I wish I’ll still be alive to witness that day. For now I pray for Sheila’s soul, that she may find eternal peace wherever she may be….