Happy 2010

I'm hereby resolving two things: to write more often, and to worry less about whether or not anyone reads it or not.

You'll note I used the word "write" instead of "blog". I was a prolific blogger previously, at Yahoo 360, in part because of the feedback: I got jazzed on all the responses. They were verification, affirmation. And one big reason I didn't do much with this thing was because the response wasn't what I expected/anticipated/needed.

Yeah, I'll admit it: I need others to shore me up, because I'm not all that impressed with myself.

So, anyhoo... in short: A blog is something I do for others, writing is something I do for myself, but am willing to share with others.

**********

A quick overview since my last entry here, in case you're curious:

It's been a snowier winter than usual here, and I wish I could blame this despair I've been feeling on the weather, but, alas... winter here is still much milder than what I grew up with.

In January, someone tried to ruin my life by outing me online; someone who found out both my professional life, and my T life, despite my best efforts to keep the two separated. I pulled back and shored up my defenses in response. After a discussion with my boss, I'm happy to report I'm safe at work. (Go see my column at TGForum from a couple of weeks ago for the full story.) And John Q. Law is working on my side to track down the "anonymous" culprit who perpetrated the offense. I was pleasantly surprised to find the law, especially agencies like the Secret Service and FBI, are taking a bigger interest in online stalkers and menacers.

So, on the off chance the faceless, cowardly, bully happens to find this: Better be looking over your shoulder. We already know who you are, we're just laying the groundwork to prove it to a neutral third party. (A judge)

I did mention despair, didn't I? Oh yeah...

A couple of weeks ago, I woke up wracked with it. I lay there rather hoping I'd have a heart attack and just die. (You'll note I failed at that.) Don't know where it came from. (It wasn't from the stalker. Believe me.)

Since then, I've kept it at bay by distracting myself as much as possible. It's still there, hiding in the shadows, and it peeks through in my interest in post-apocalyptic fiction, I think. I've been reading a lot of novels, and crappy paperbacks, and watching zombie films and Mad Max flicks galore. And I think the attraction is because the underlying theme in all of them is survival, and rebirth: Get away from the status quo, and rebuild, hopefully in a better way.

(I'm rambling, and I don't care, as this is for me. Not you. You can read if you'd like, but you are not my audience. Don't mean to be rude, but that's that.)

I'm 39 years old. 40 is supposed to be the year of the midlife crisis, right? (Let's ignore the fact that I declared having a midlife crisis in my 20s, and later heard from a psychic that I would die at age 42. Because that's just bullshit.)

Anyhoo, another recurring theme in my life for the last couple of years has been "where did I go wrong?"; reviewing those turning points, those junctions.

But, let's get something straight too: I don't have an awful life. Things aren't terrible. A lot of people have things much worse. It's just that... I dunno.



Okay, bored with this.... but let me sign off with this line that's been rolling around my head lately. (I've got a Twitter account, and it'd be perfect for there, only I'm too lazy to log on.)

I finally know what I want from life: A do-over.

A slow decline before a precipitous fall...

And then a revival.

(This is a continuation of a blog posted at MySpace.)

I kinda got carried away this Labor Day Weekend. Friday night, I set up my apartment for a photo shoot. Saturday, I figured everything was still out, so I might as well take more pictures. Sunday, I was busy. No pictures. Monday, I didn't have to go into work until 5pm, so getting up at 9, I decided I had time for a few more pics.

And tonight, I look around, and my apartment looks like a Goodwill truck overturned.And I'm tempted to get dolled up for yet more pictures.

And why not? It's been seven months since I got dressed. It can be expected that when one pens something up, it'll come roaring back.So, that raises the question: Where have I been?

(That's from the MySpace blog. The deeper stuff starts now.)

About a year ago, I attended my first Southern Comfort Convention. I drank too much each night I was there, and was hungover each day, so I missed pretty much every seminar. I also met a lot of people, and instantly forgot many of them.

The day of the swimming pool party, I awoke to find myself feeling vaguely out of sorts. I wandered around the lobby for much of the day, but it seemed like no-one was around. Everyone was in the seminars, (most of which were TS oriented), or at the pool party. Eventually, I made my way to the pool, and my uncomfortableness was only intensified.

Yeah, I was jealous of the full-time girls, whether or not they were "hot". (There were a few who did look fantastic, and a few others who... well, shall we just say, I admired them for being comfortable in their own bodies.) I could have brought a swimsuit and joined in the fun, but I'm not comfy with my physique. Granted, I lost a lot of weight over the course of the previous year, but, that wasn't the only thing that bothered me.

I wanted to be smaller, as in shorter. I wanted to have narrower shoulders. I wanted to have a smaller face. Be less hairy. Summing up, I really started to despise being manly. (Which is not to say I'm incredibly macho.)

Generally, I'm happy with being a guy. I'm not transsexual. I'm pretty sure of that. But I didn't feel like I fit in at all at SCC and specifically at the pool party.

And it's not just the physique: It's the whole social standing. Being a simple crossdresser feels so shallow sometimes. While TS's are talking about hormones and laser, coming out to family, and fears about job security, all I can contribute to a conversation is talk about clothes and photos. (Heh, that's ironic.)

It's as if TS's are adults, and as a crossdresser, I'm stuck in adolescence. And I don't like feeling shallow and simple. But, as they say, "college isn't for everyone", so if to "graduate" and grow, I have to go full-time, I'd rather skip even community college and stay in junior high. (How's that metaphor grab ya?)

But what to do? I can't stay in this arrested development forever, can I?

Okay, overstretched the metaphor, and probably insulted a few people in the process. But I don't know where else to go with all of this: this vacation from dressing was kind of nice, because it allowed me to rediscover some of the simple pleasures. And I do have some very intelligent crossdressing friends with whom I can have intelligent conversations. But, a deep conversation on many CD topics is still in shallow waters.

(Watch for the conclusion to this line of thought at TGForum.)

Is this on?

My fellow Americans, I've just signed legislation that will outlaw the Soviet Union...

Wait. What?

Yeah, it feels like I haven't blogged since '91. But, I've been busy.

Okay, uninterested is more like it. But now, the Beast is starting to rattle the bars of her cage. And while it may be just her snoring that's making the bars shake, it's something. After months of hibernation, she's showing signs of life.

But here's the irony. This weekend is already packed. And Sunday, my folks come for a visit. And next weekend is packed. And the weekend after that? I'm going camping. So, if I do roust her, it won't be for almost another month. Figures, huh?

So, why did she lay down and slip into a coma? Well, that's complicated. Dunno if I want to get into it right here and now. So, instead, I'll update you on what's been going on over the last seven months:

I joined Twitter. http://twitter.com/ronnierho
I started seeing someone.
Went to my 20th high school reunion.
Went to Pride. In boy mode.
Put on a few pounds.
Drank a lot. A lot.
Watched a lot of movies on Netflix.
Read a couple of books.
Agreed to let friends shoot part of a movie in my apartment.
Won a few awards at work.
Didn't get laid off.
Hit a deer in a rented Mustang convertable.
Forgot how to spell "convertible"
Ran part of a marathon. (Not a very big part.)
Re-arranged my living room.
Re-rearranged my living room for the movie crew.
Cleaned the toliet.

And so it goes.

Southern Comfort, behind the scenes...

This month, an interview with one of the driving forces behind SCC. Meet Cat Turner at the Ronnie Rho Show.

Where the hell have I been?

(Oh, like you care.)

Well, there's been the whole Netflix thing, and then there were a few nights working on the next webisode of the RR Show. And there have been other things, like work, and other social events.

But to be completely honest, I've been depressed. Normally, I don't like to talk about such things publicly, but since the few people who actually followed this in the past are friends, or friend-ish, I might as well spill.

Yes, depressed. Seriously so. I've had no interest in reading other people's blogs, because they are either upbeat, (and that's the last thing a depressed person wants to read), or they're downers, (and that's the second to last thing a depressed person wants to read.)

I could blame the depression on season affectation disorder, or something like that. I haven't been getting a lot of sunshine or exercise. Or it could just be clinical. (If that's different from SAD. I dunno.)

And I could probably find a therapist, but they'd have two courses of action: a happy pill, or let's-talk-about-it.

Happy pills. Not for me. I don't want to be artificially happy. Hell, I don't want to be artificially neutral either. I'd rather feel bad than not feel anything at all. (Thank you Warren Zevon, and the forgotten philosopher who probably originally came up with that line, but whom I've, as mentioned, forgotten.)

Talk about it? Why? Isn't that what friends are for?

Not that I like talking to friends about what bugs me. I don't want to be a whiner, or an energy vampire. And if they let me, which I know they would, they'd get sick of it awfully quickly.

Besides, the parts of life that bring me down are all out of my control. There's nothing talking will do to improve them. I already know there's nothing I can do about them. And that's what depresses me.

I'm lonely. Gawd, am I lonely. It's been over a year since the Mrs. and I split up. She's found someone new. I haven't. Why not? Hell, that's a couple of posts in and of itself. But to sum up, I haven't found someone I'm interested in whose just as interested in me. Oh, I've found a couple of peeps I liked, but they didn't return the feeling. Shot down, again and again. Me not worthy, apparently.

Work goes okay. I'm no longer too worried about getting laid off this year. Matter of fact, work is probably the bright spot in my life. Made some progress in feeling appreciated there.

Many of my other extra-curricular activities, however, seem to be ignored or held in outright contempt by those I'd like to please. Otherwise, the ole' weirdo magnet-effect seems to be operational.

And over the winter, I regained 12 pounds. Yay.

I watched Annie Hall for the first time yesterday, courtesy of NetFlix. (Probably not a good idea to watch Woody Allen movies when one is already depressed.)

Oh, and then there's the ice cream truck that's been circling downtown today. I thought when I moved downtown, I'd escape that torture. No such luck. Out in the 'burbs, I had to deal with the MF's parking right outside my window for 20 minutes or so, playing "Turkey in the Straw" over and over and over and over and over and over... He's followed me here, apparently. Same song, slightly different mix; this one features staccato puppy barks at appropriate points in the song.

Ice cream truck music is particularly bad downtown, just because of the accoustics. And it's not even warm out!

I'm hoping that with sunnier, warmer weather, I'll get out more, get some exercise, lose some weight, etc. Otherwise, I'm just going to keep doing what I've been doing: self-medicating with booze.

That is all.

Some of my favorite albums..

In no particular order:

Pink Floyd's The Wall
Tom Petty: Full Moon Fever
Def Leppard: Hysteria
INXS: Kick
They Might Be Giants: Flood
The Blues Brothers Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
Book of Love: Book of Love
Sting: Dream of the Blue Turtles
Police: Synchronicity
My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult: Sexplosion!
The B-52's: Cosmic Thing
Eric Clapton: Journeyman
Brian Setzer Orchestra: The Dirty Boogie
Dire Straits: Brothers in Arms
Xanadu: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
Cheap Trick: Unauthorized Greatest Hits
Eurythmics: Sweet Dreams
Depeche Mode: Violator
Say Anything: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

Yeah, it's heavy on late 80's, early 90's, and soundtrack stuff, but, there you go. Discuss.

I'm not dead. I'm feeling much better!

Two things have kept me busy over the last month. Well, three, actually.

Firstly, I subscribed to Netflix. I got the basic package: 1 DVD through the mail at a time. But, that also includes unlimited Instant Watches. Netflix has a lot of movies I can watch on my desktop. Soooo, I've been catching up on movies I've missed, and reviewing loved ones I haven't seen in a while.

Secondly, for Christmas, my little brother gave me a gift card to iTunes, and I bought the fourth season of Dr. Who. Whoo hoo! So, between the fourth season, (the last for David Tennant), and seasons 1-3 on Netflix, I immersed myself in the latest Time Lord adventures.

Thirdly, when I wasn't watching a movie, or TV show, I was slaving away on the latest episode of the Ronnie Rho Show! (I'll save the behind the scenes discussion for a future blog. But, safe to say, it was major surgery.)

This webisode is special for a number of reasons: it's the first shot on location. The regular crew was left behind, so I had to press a couple of volunteers into service, (not unlike the British Navy grabbing American sailors, during the early 19th Century.). And our guest is the very well known Donna Rose. Donna is, well, maybe I'll spare you the description and let her tell you who she is.
But, anyone who is transgendered, knows someone who's transgendered, and anyone who has wanted to be transgendered, should watch this show.

And if you like it, tell a friend...