Seriously though, what’s the point of living if it isn’t to experience things? For some people that might mean buying the coolest gadgets. For others it might be enjoying fine food, wine, and smokes. Or having a perfect family with 2.5 children and a white picket fence. For some it’s climbing the highest mountain. And for me, it’s sex And while all of these activities come with risks (bankruptcy, obesity, mid life crisis, tragic death, psychological damage, etc), we’re each free to chose the risks that have the greatest personal payout.

If you’re wondering, I’ve chosen this lifestyle because the tradeoffs (sexual fulfillment and personal satisfaction with my gender identity) are more than worth the potential consequences (I’ll leave them up to your imagination). And besides, the alternative (living a normal life with the 2.5 kids and white picket fence) would most certainly come at a high price (dissatisfaction with my life, discomfort in my identity, regret, complacency, etc).

So I want to personally thank you (yes you) for buying pornography. Even if it’s not a membership to my site (The Crossdresser .com in case you’ve missed that). Your visit to my blog, your interest in my photos, your membership to someone else’s site . . . it all helps support the choice, the ability for those of us in this industry to strive for something that makes us happy. You allow us to embody our dreams and aspirations without fearing judgment or retribution from society. Thank you

I spent the day today with my family, whom I don’t get along with. For perspective, they kicked me out of the house and didn’t speak to me for 5 years when they found out I liked wearing pantyhose . . . needless to say, they don’t know about Katie, and spending the day with them at this point is a bit like torture. Ok, but that was all to be expected, and explains the bottle of wine I have in me at the moment. Nothing out of the ordinary there

The really strange part is that I came home horny. I mean REALLY horny. Like I would have jumped on anything that moved slow enough for me catch and fucked its brains out. Ok, so I would normally do something like that. But tonight was excessive, to the point that I almost started dialing random phone numbers asking for sex. The only thing that stopped me is my hatred of telephones.

Ok, I’m going to stop while I still qualify as “crazy” and not “demented”. But see what holidays do to me? Today’s lesson boys and girls is “don’t spend time with your family – it will only land you in a mental institute”. Words to live by.

And with that, I’m out. I’ll be back to my normal, cute, crossdressing self in the next day or two

Oh wait, you want to know what happened to that insane horniness earlier? Well ok . . . I dressed up in 100% nylon thigh highs under angora wool stockings, then put on a cute little plaid skirt, a big bulky christmas sweater, and a pair of stiletto “bet-you-can’t-walk-with-these-on” heels . . . then I wrapped my dick in lycra stockings, a rubber cock sheath, and a couple leather cock rings, looked at porn for about 3 hours, and finally after all that let myself explode. Hopefully that took care of enough of it that I will be able to keep my hands to myself tomorrow!

Ran out of tape on the camera though, and don’t have enough disk space to download! There’s a sign I have too many photos of myself on my computer, right? So now I’ve got to sit around in my boobs and a t-shirt (they look good in a t-shirt though, believe it or not!) waiting for 10 or 15 gig of files to copy over to my other computer so I can dump the video tape and get on to the next set. Rough life, right?

At least I’ve got something fun to play with under my shirt . . .

But to really keep up with shaving, I’d have to do my entire body every day. And my skin doesn’t take too well to that routine. Ow, my skin (homestar runner anyone?). So instead I stick to: day 1 – shave; day 2 – lots of Aveeno Shave Minimizing Lotion; day 3 – Nads XFol Exfoliating Scrub, and more lotion; day 4 – repeat.

Yep, it’s a pain. So I don’t want to hear any more females complaining about having to shave their legs once a week to stay silky smooth. But it’s worth the work, because frankly if I get lazy (or busy) and let my hair grow out a bit, I find it absolutely repulsive and have to get rid of it at my first opportunity. Or wear lots of layers of clothes so I don’t have to look at myself. Neurosis? Maybe.

As soon as I can afford it or find a kind T-girl loving plastic surgeon, I’m getting all of my hair lasered off. Goodbye hair. All of it except the top of my head. And one of these days I will grow that out again because I’m also tired of wigs. But that’s another story. Enough of my rant