This posting will not be a profound analysis of some problem or other. Nor will it be a flight of fancy or an attempt to be witty.And if you're looking for something a bit more juicy you'll have better luck at The Musings of a Cougar. No this here post will be me whining and complaining about life, the universe and everything.There might also be some jubilation and hope.
The Zyban I'm taking to help me stop smoking have also made my moods very level, boring and slightly depressive. I am now on my 15th day without smoking. And my body seems to handle the Zyban better with the result that I'm back more or less in oestrogen mode, with the usual mood swings.I welcome them, the good times are really good but the lows are really low too. Last night I wrote a blog post: My very first experience of BDSM. It meant a lot of delving in childhood memories and it awoke all kinds of feelings in me. Most of them positive but also quite strong. As the memories flooded over me there was some shedding of tears. Tears of nostalgia and tears of regrets for the things that never got said. also tears of joy and happiness. And when I woke up this morning I felt a kind of serene contentment with life.So I'm not really as cranky as I was when I started this post. On the whole I'm a lucky and happy Golden Lady with a plethora of opportunities.
Well, later in the day I felt really down in the dumps, everything seemed grey and hopeless. Why? I feared that I'd end my days as a bitter, lonely woman. After all who'd want to date a 60 + trans woman? Add to that lesbian and a BDSM top and the prospects are bleak indeed. What's the meaning of going to clubs if all I'll ever get to do is having a few drinks and some conversations before coming home to a lonely flat. And I don't even have a cat.
Yes, I know things aren't as bad as that it just feels like that in the darkest moments. Some days I look in the mirror and say, Goddess you're sexy and beautiful! Or I'm walking down a street and suddenly I get, and give, a few seconds long eye contact. a slight smile and the we just pass. And there is no doubt that we both know. The second long communication says: "Hi! I'm a lesbian and I know you are too.Bye!" So once again I have come to the conclusion that I'm really a lucky woman. Amazing how a bit of reflection can drive the blue funk away.I'm feeling much better now, thank you.
BTW, I'm single, free and ready to munch muff. Any takers on this offer?
Hugs, kisses. love and lashes until next time.
Your Mistress Caisa
December 19, 2009
December 7, 2009
December 6, 2009
December 2, 2009
Restless and Nervous
That's what I am now. I'm trying to quit smoking with the aid of Zyban. The last two days I've been cutting down a lot and when I finish the one I have left I WILL NEVER SMOKE AGAIN! But I expect there will be a week or two of hell.
Since my last post about Club Wish I've been on a great night at Whip Club. It was a fabulous atmosphere, a lot of people and some heavy action of almost any type you'd want. Spanking, whipping, fucking...... This time yours truly got in on some whipping and a bit of petting. Nothing more than that. One reason for the lack of action for this poor cougar is that most of the folks at Whip are hetero, another is that I'm reluctant to have a BDSM scene in public with someone I haven't played with before. A third reason is that, believe it or not, that I'm quite shy and insecure when it comes to initiate a more intimate contact, be it kissing or BDSM play. Not the best trait for a top, is it? If I didn't have to leave so early, 5 am, I'm quite certain that something could have happened. I'll not say anything more but I think those involved know what I mean. Love and lashes to you. ;-)
As I relaxed in a soft arm chair with a glass of wine and with no one else at the table I had a sort of vision (or wishful thinking) for a few seconds and felt convinced that sometime next summer I'd be at Whip Club with Kate and that we'll be having a great time. Ehh, no not you, even if I'd really like that, but Kate from across the pond.
I just had my last cigarette EVER! Let's hope I'll survive the next days. I'll keep you posted.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Your Mistress Caisa
Since my last post about Club Wish I've been on a great night at Whip Club. It was a fabulous atmosphere, a lot of people and some heavy action of almost any type you'd want. Spanking, whipping, fucking...... This time yours truly got in on some whipping and a bit of petting. Nothing more than that. One reason for the lack of action for this poor cougar is that most of the folks at Whip are hetero, another is that I'm reluctant to have a BDSM scene in public with someone I haven't played with before. A third reason is that, believe it or not, that I'm quite shy and insecure when it comes to initiate a more intimate contact, be it kissing or BDSM play. Not the best trait for a top, is it? If I didn't have to leave so early, 5 am, I'm quite certain that something could have happened. I'll not say anything more but I think those involved know what I mean. Love and lashes to you. ;-)As I relaxed in a soft arm chair with a glass of wine and with no one else at the table I had a sort of vision (or wishful thinking) for a few seconds and felt convinced that sometime next summer I'd be at Whip Club with Kate and that we'll be having a great time. Ehh, no not you, even if I'd really like that, but Kate from across the pond.
I just had my last cigarette EVER! Let's hope I'll survive the next days. I'll keep you posted.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Your Mistress Caisa
November 28, 2009
Spanksgiving At Club Wish
Club Wish is a relatively small club with no place of its own. But SLM, Swedish Leather Men, kindly lets the club use their nice cellar. To get in you press a bell, the door opens and then there is a gate to pass through. All this is to make sure there are no homophobic attacks. The place is perfect for a BDSM club. Lots of bare brick walls, Bars in front of the bar and evocative paraphernalia all over the place.I had volunteered to help and as a newbie I was posted in the cloakroom. There was supposed to be a dress code but this wasn't very strictly applied. The dresses was all the way from almost pedestrian to stark naked with a collar. And it was a good mixture of cis women, F2Ms and M2Fs and more. Styles varied from butch to femme and ages from around twenty to almost eighty.
As the theme of the evening was fisting there was a lecture and talk on the subject. I left the cloakroom for a bit to listen. But my sense of duty made me return. And i think I already know quite a lot on the subject. In fact I was fairly good at it before I knew it had a name. ;-) Back at the entrance/cloakroom I had a very interesting talk with some F2M folks, mostly what the different needs are for trans women and trans men but also how we could work together and support each other.
I was relieved of my duties around nine, nine thirty and went to the bar to buy a glass of wine. I mingled around a bit but soon found myself at the cloakroom where some interesting folks were to be found. All in all I found Club Wish to have a very welcoming, warm and free atmosphere. I had planned on going home around ten, eleven at the latest. As it were I didn't get home until about two in the morning. I hadn't eaten much during the day and that in combination with Zyban that I take to help me stop smoking made me feel quite tipsy although I only had three glasses of wine.
So what about the spanking? Well I have to confess that it was a cunning way to lure you here. (Thank you LizzY the LezzY for the word spanksgiving.) I didn't see much play nor did I get involved in any myself. I feel like I have to really know someone before I'll engage in any BDSM activity. To me its a tremendously intimate and personal thing. And even if I.yearn with every fibre of my being to have sex with a woman I want to wait until after the GSR for real lesbian sex. I can of course play the giving role with tongue, lips, fingers and hands. I just realised that what it comes down to is that I'm afraid I'll never find some one. What are the odds for a 60 year old lesbian trans woman who also is a BDSM top?
Well, tonight it's time for Whip Club and I think I'll wear the same sexy top as I did a Club Wish. The drawback from my horizon is that most folks at Whip Club are straight.
Kisses, hugs, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
November 16, 2009
A Rainbow Mass To Celebrate Same Sex Marriage
Last night I violated a 30 years old principle of mine: Never to enter a church when there was a service in progress. Why is a long story that I might tell in my blog My Life So Far.The reason I did it was that I got invited by a friend who is one of the organizers behind "Regnbågsmässan", The Rainbow Mass, a monthly event at "Sofia kyrkan", The Sofia Church, in the part of Stockholm called "Söder". It's beautifully situated high up on "Vita Bergen" I was born just a few blocks from it so if I had been baptised this is the church where it would have happened. I hope to blog more about the concept of "Regnbågsmässan" and the people behind it later.
The theme of last night's mass was to celebrate that the Swedish church have decided to perform same sex marriage ceremonies. It started at 4 pm with opportunities to talk with church officials about weddings, I missed that part as I was buzzy trying to install the latest SuSE to a USB stick. But I was in time for the mass that begun at 6 pm. I was given a book of hymns and took a seat towards the back, near the aisle. At first glance it wasn't any different from the churches I was forced to attend when in school. Then I noticed the garland in rainbow colours hanging from the pulpit. The church slowly filled with people. Well, filled is maybe not the right word. It was about half full when the mass started, which apparently is more than at an ordinary mass. I looked around to get an idea of what kind of folks came to this mass, I tried to not be too obvious less they think I was checking them out for other reasons than reporting in this blog post. :-)
I saw some faces that I recognised, among them the guy I usually buy my tobacco from. The audience was about evenly distributed as to gender, male and female with a sprinkling of trans folks. The age was slightly higher than you usually find at a LGBTQ event. It might not be surprising to you that I checked out the women more than the men. :-) Many of the ladies was of the short haired butch style lesbian stereotype, other more "ordinary" and some decidedly femme.
The mass started with a song performed by Rainbow Gospel Followed by a talk by someone who's name I missed. I don't think he was a priest as he was dressed in an ordinary suite. It was a bit hard to hear what he was saying due to the echo in the church. I didn't catch all but the gist of it seemed to be that we should be grateful for the decision by the church to perform same sex marriage but also be careful not to alienate those that had opposed it. A middle of the road path I have no sympathy with. Next another song by the choir after which the priest, Malin, entered the stage. Malin is a beautiful brunette. I'd say sexy but can you do that about a priest? She was wearing a sparkly cassock (?) in a rainbow pattern. The way Malin spoke about love and marriage was more in line with my own thoughts on the subject. After that it was time for us all to sing a hymn. I'm not a Christian and also I didn't know the tune so I was mostly quiet. After that Malin talked about the parable of the ten maidens and the oil lamps. I'm not very familiar with Christian mythology but the conclusion was that she believed that Jesus would welcome everyone to the party, whether they had oil in the lamps or not, whether they were straight or gay. All in all I felt that what she said was something I could agree with.
Next up was Helene Hammarlund , who sang a beautiful Swedish folk song from the balcony. If my back wasn't hurting so by this time it might have caused some tears to trickle down my face. Then came the part that was strangest to me, the communion. I've never been to one of these before and it wasn't so bad as I feared. Malin said some things over the bread and the wine and then there was general hugging and whishings of God bless and the like. A beautiful black haired woman touched my shoulder and said May God's love be with you. After this those who were so inclined cued up to get a biscuit dipped in wine. One last hymn and it was over.
I went out for a much needed cig and then joined the cue for wedding cake and coffee. I didn't stay long after that but had some interesting conversations with some likewise interesting people. All in all it was a good experience this my first voluntary visit to a Christian function. And there is a good chance I'll go to the next mass Dec 12.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
November 3, 2009
Go Ahead And Vote - And Get Ready To Fight
In the US there are some important elections coming up/going on now. Marriage equality, a lesbian mayor and more. I think that those of you that can should vote. I don't think that the outcome of those elections will be anywhere near revolutionary. But they are each a small step forward. Like the decision by the Swedish church to perform same sex marriage ceremonies, or the appointment of a lesbian bishop in Stockholm.
In principle I don't care for the institution of marriage (who wants to live in an institution?) and I care even less for organized religion. But every little step in the LGBT struggle is important to me, not just the issues closest to my heart. Together we're slowly pushing back the homo phobes, fundies and right wing nuts.But they will get more vitriolic, cunning and aggressive as they realize that they're fighting for a lost cause.
In Spain 1936 everyone was sure that the left would win the election, which they did. But the only ones that were ready for the fascist rebellion were the anarchists and the syndicalists. The syndicalist union CNT told it's members: Vote if you want to, but be ready to fight the fascists. If more leftists had listened to that advice Franco might have been crushed in the first few weeks.
Let's not make the same mistake as the Spanish left. Go Ahead And Vote - And Get Ready To Fight!
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
In principle I don't care for the institution of marriage (who wants to live in an institution?) and I care even less for organized religion. But every little step in the LGBT struggle is important to me, not just the issues closest to my heart. Together we're slowly pushing back the homo phobes, fundies and right wing nuts.But they will get more vitriolic, cunning and aggressive as they realize that they're fighting for a lost cause.
In Spain 1936 everyone was sure that the left would win the election, which they did. But the only ones that were ready for the fascist rebellion were the anarchists and the syndicalists. The syndicalist union CNT told it's members: Vote if you want to, but be ready to fight the fascists. If more leftists had listened to that advice Franco might have been crushed in the first few weeks.
Let's not make the same mistake as the Spanish left. Go Ahead And Vote - And Get Ready To Fight!
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
November 1, 2009
A Women only BDSM & Fetish Summer Camp in Sweden
A few weeks ago I blogged in a fast forward fantasy about the secret all lesbian town in Sweden. Now it seems we have taken a step in that direction.This is from an e-mail I got yesterday from my friend Angelica:
Wish also want to remind you of Wish Power Exchange, Summer Camp week 29
in 2010!
Wish Power exchange proudly presents summer camp 2010!
Wish invites you to a five-day BDSM and fetish-camp for women* on the
beautiful west coast of Sweden. All meals are included, there will be many
play areas, several workshops and fantastic surroundings to explore. The
surroundings are especially nice if you like to travel by motorcycle.
Members of Wish and their friends have, by this e-mail, a unique chance to
book in advance before the information goes out officially!
The camp will take place during week 29, Wednesday through Sunday. If you
want to arrive earlier in the week it may be possible to arrange, when you
book your stay. Depending on the number of participants the fee for the
week will approximately be between 2400-2900 SEK.
Wish Power Exchange Summer Camp will be held in a kinky friendly
camp/hostel situated on the west coast of Sweden. In close vicinity lies
Smögen, a picturesque small fishing village that is a favourite
vacation site for tourists. The camp provides newly renovated shower areas
and a relaxing outdoors hot-tub. A sauna is presently being built and
hopefully will be ready in time for the camp. Play spaces are found both
indoors and outdoors, with plenty of bondage- and percussion play
furniture. There is also a separate, lockable underground dungeon for
those who prefer more private play. For those with an attraction to
different role play settings there is a possibility to arrange special
theme areas such as Clinic or Class room.
The accommodations are simple, hostel standards in four-bed rooms.
Depending on the number of participants it may be possible to get a
separate room if you are a couple. Bring your own sheets and towels. If
you prefer, it is possible to bring you own caravan or camper to stay in.
All meals are included in the fee. There will be brunch ca 9-12 AM and
”afternoon tea”, a light meal around 3 PM. We dine together at 7 PM. Those
who want put on their fetish finest for dinner. Fruit and other snacks can
be provided throughout the day. A bar with low prices will be available.
The camp is international and the main languages will be both English and
Swedish.
* As usual Wish's target groups are those who are, have been or live as women.
By replying to this e-mail you can register to the camp or receive further
information;
wishutskick@gmail.com.
More detailed information of the Power Exchange Camp will be emailed later
on to those who register interest.
So, ladies, book you flights.
Hugs, kisses. love and lashes until next time
Caisa
Wish also want to remind you of Wish Power Exchange, Summer Camp week 29
in 2010!
Wish Power exchange proudly presents summer camp 2010!
Wish invites you to a five-day BDSM and fetish-camp for women* on the
beautiful west coast of Sweden. All meals are included, there will be many
play areas, several workshops and fantastic surroundings to explore. The
surroundings are especially nice if you like to travel by motorcycle.
Members of Wish and their friends have, by this e-mail, a unique chance to
book in advance before the information goes out officially!
The camp will take place during week 29, Wednesday through Sunday. If you
want to arrive earlier in the week it may be possible to arrange, when you
book your stay. Depending on the number of participants the fee for the
week will approximately be between 2400-2900 SEK.
Wish Power Exchange Summer Camp will be held in a kinky friendly
camp/hostel situated on the west coast of Sweden. In close vicinity lies
Smögen, a picturesque small fishing village that is a favourite
vacation site for tourists. The camp provides newly renovated shower areas
and a relaxing outdoors hot-tub. A sauna is presently being built and
hopefully will be ready in time for the camp. Play spaces are found both
indoors and outdoors, with plenty of bondage- and percussion play
furniture. There is also a separate, lockable underground dungeon for
those who prefer more private play. For those with an attraction to
different role play settings there is a possibility to arrange special
theme areas such as Clinic or Class room.
The accommodations are simple, hostel standards in four-bed rooms.
Depending on the number of participants it may be possible to get a
separate room if you are a couple. Bring your own sheets and towels. If
you prefer, it is possible to bring you own caravan or camper to stay in.
All meals are included in the fee. There will be brunch ca 9-12 AM and
”afternoon tea”, a light meal around 3 PM. We dine together at 7 PM. Those
who want put on their fetish finest for dinner. Fruit and other snacks can
be provided throughout the day. A bar with low prices will be available.
The camp is international and the main languages will be both English and
Swedish.
* As usual Wish's target groups are those who are, have been or live as women.
By replying to this e-mail you can register to the camp or receive further
information;
wishutskick@gmail.com.
More detailed information of the Power Exchange Camp will be emailed later
on to those who register interest.
So, ladies, book you flights.
Hugs, kisses. love and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 30, 2009
She Drove While I Slept
We were driving from Charleston to visit Barbara and Kate in New York. In the seat beside me in our old red Mustang cabriolet sat my wife. It was a sunny day and just warm enough to drive with the top down. We were on our honey moon visiting friends from the net in the US and Canada in real life. We've had quite an intense bout of lovemaking and BDSM the night before and I soon drifted off to sleep.
When I next opened my eyes the car was parked on a small road in some forest and my love was nowhere in sight. After rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I got out out of the car to stretch my legs. Then I spotted her in a small valley standing in a pond that was formed in a brook. She was standing in the middle of it rinsing her long, black curly hair. I stood a minute admiring her rubenesque figure, in particular the raised red and blue velts on her lovely bottom from the night before. I got out of my clothes and joined her in the pond. We stood a long time in the water, kissing, breasts pressed against breasts, cunts exchanging fluids and hands roaming all over. After a while we stumbled to the moss covered shore and continued our lovemaking half in, half out of the water.
(I'm in bed today with a case of the common cold. Add to that a back that is giving me trouble. I took two painkillers that contains some codeine and tried to take a nap. I had this clear dream/hallucination just before I entered real sleep. It was quite clear, detailed and coherent and I felt I had to put it down in words before it faded away.)
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
When I next opened my eyes the car was parked on a small road in some forest and my love was nowhere in sight. After rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I got out out of the car to stretch my legs. Then I spotted her in a small valley standing in a pond that was formed in a brook. She was standing in the middle of it rinsing her long, black curly hair. I stood a minute admiring her rubenesque figure, in particular the raised red and blue velts on her lovely bottom from the night before. I got out of my clothes and joined her in the pond. We stood a long time in the water, kissing, breasts pressed against breasts, cunts exchanging fluids and hands roaming all over. After a while we stumbled to the moss covered shore and continued our lovemaking half in, half out of the water.
(I'm in bed today with a case of the common cold. Add to that a back that is giving me trouble. I took two painkillers that contains some codeine and tried to take a nap. I had this clear dream/hallucination just before I entered real sleep. It was quite clear, detailed and coherent and I felt I had to put it down in words before it faded away.)
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 27, 2009
How to get quality followers on Twitter
No this is not spam for some app or other. Just some common sense advise.
First off, I can't get it into my poor head why any one would want more followers jut for the numbers of followers. Unless you're trying to sell something, in which case this blog post is probably of no interest to you whatsoever. I'm directing these advices to the regular tweeter, It's the real individuals that I find it interesting to follow.
I've been on Twitter for quite a while but didn't really start using it until the night of the finals in the Eurovision Song Contest. Through a chat at eurOut I got in contact with some great girls/women and through them I found more people to follow.
An aside re Twitters viral properties. The day of the finals I started following Malena Ernman, a Swedish opera singer and our contestant in the contest.At the morning of the contest she had around 300 followers. She was tweeting frequently and when Russian police cracked down on a Pride demonstration she tweeted her outrage. I, and many others retweeted her comments, and others in their turn spread the word and at the end of the evening Malena had over 3000 followers. Unlike many celebs her tweets are sometimes personal, sometimes show related, but allways interesting. Her nick on Twitter is @Malena_Ernman and if you want to see pics of a really sexy opera diva in all kinds of situations follow her on Face Book.
But let's get back on track. At the moment of writing I have 731 followers and I haven't done anything specific to get followers. But I've been thinking the last few days about what I've done to be so honoured and have reached a few conclusions.
Tweet links to sites that can interest your followers. In my case trans and lesbian related and general LGBT issues. If they find your links good they will probably retweet them and more people interested in the same topics will notice you and maybe follow you.
Take an active part in discussions in the tweet stream. If your tweets are relevant to the topic they don't have to be deeply profound and witty. The important thing is that you care about what you're tweeting, be yourself and others will appreciate it.
Not all tweet streams have to be discussions, it can be a friendly banter between two or more tweeple.
Great the tworld when you log on and when you log off. I often use some thing like "Good morning sweet twibe. This cougar is wide awake and ready to roar." and "This cougar is turning into a sleepy kitten. G'nite sweet twibe." The latter often accompanied by a pic of a sleeping kitten. I like the term sewet twibe. I picked it up from Kate Bornstein @katebornstein .
Don't flood the tweet stream with all the small details of your day. A few remarks like "Goddess I need coffee" and the like are OK. In fact it can help create a clearer picture of who you are, your personality.
When some one follows you follow back, unless it's an obvious spammer.
If you tweet some one who has a zillion followers don't be disappointed if you get no immediate response. Instead be glad when yo do get one, I just got one from Billie Myers @BillieMyers saying huge thanks, made me fell kinda warm and fuzzy.
If you have a blog, tweet when a new post is published.
This is, more or less the way I've been tweeting and something about is must be right as the number of tweeple following me keeps increasing. I got two more followers as I was writing this.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
First off, I can't get it into my poor head why any one would want more followers jut for the numbers of followers. Unless you're trying to sell something, in which case this blog post is probably of no interest to you whatsoever. I'm directing these advices to the regular tweeter, It's the real individuals that I find it interesting to follow.
I've been on Twitter for quite a while but didn't really start using it until the night of the finals in the Eurovision Song Contest. Through a chat at eurOut I got in contact with some great girls/women and through them I found more people to follow.
An aside re Twitters viral properties. The day of the finals I started following Malena Ernman, a Swedish opera singer and our contestant in the contest.At the morning of the contest she had around 300 followers. She was tweeting frequently and when Russian police cracked down on a Pride demonstration she tweeted her outrage. I, and many others retweeted her comments, and others in their turn spread the word and at the end of the evening Malena had over 3000 followers. Unlike many celebs her tweets are sometimes personal, sometimes show related, but allways interesting. Her nick on Twitter is @Malena_Ernman and if you want to see pics of a really sexy opera diva in all kinds of situations follow her on Face Book.
But let's get back on track. At the moment of writing I have 731 followers and I haven't done anything specific to get followers. But I've been thinking the last few days about what I've done to be so honoured and have reached a few conclusions.
Tweet links to sites that can interest your followers. In my case trans and lesbian related and general LGBT issues. If they find your links good they will probably retweet them and more people interested in the same topics will notice you and maybe follow you.
Take an active part in discussions in the tweet stream. If your tweets are relevant to the topic they don't have to be deeply profound and witty. The important thing is that you care about what you're tweeting, be yourself and others will appreciate it.
Not all tweet streams have to be discussions, it can be a friendly banter between two or more tweeple.
Great the tworld when you log on and when you log off. I often use some thing like "Good morning sweet twibe. This cougar is wide awake and ready to roar." and "This cougar is turning into a sleepy kitten. G'nite sweet twibe." The latter often accompanied by a pic of a sleeping kitten. I like the term sewet twibe. I picked it up from Kate Bornstein @katebornstein .
Don't flood the tweet stream with all the small details of your day. A few remarks like "Goddess I need coffee" and the like are OK. In fact it can help create a clearer picture of who you are, your personality.
When some one follows you follow back, unless it's an obvious spammer.
If you tweet some one who has a zillion followers don't be disappointed if you get no immediate response. Instead be glad when yo do get one, I just got one from Billie Myers @BillieMyers saying huge thanks, made me fell kinda warm and fuzzy.
If you have a blog, tweet when a new post is published.
This is, more or less the way I've been tweeting and something about is must be right as the number of tweeple following me keeps increasing. I got two more followers as I was writing this.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 23, 2009
Lizzy Limerick #2
Our favourite LizzY the LezzY
Have made our souls all mezzY
We look every daY
Hoping to saY
A new LizzY video, HoraY!
Have made our souls all mezzY
We look every daY
Hoping to saY
A new LizzY video, HoraY!
Hormones On My Mind
I have lately become aware of some effects of being on hormones. I'm on Divigel, an oestrogen gel that I put on 2 x 1mg in the morning and 1mg in the evening and Cyproteron 50mg, one in the morning and one in the evening. The latest blood work showed all hormones well within the upper range of normal female values. I started on hormones Nov 18 2008 so it's almost a year now. I had to stop the Cyproteron for a while due to bad liver values. But started again in the end of July. The combined effect of the oestrogen and the testo blockers worked wonders for my tits, they more or less just popped out. Still small, of course, but the pain and the hotness of them are promises of further growth. As for body hair it grows more slowly and the hairs are much thinner. The facial hair also grows slower and that means that I have to stop shaving at least two days before electro or my dermatologist will not be able to find the buggers.
But the changes that I've been most aware of lately (aside from constantly touching my lovely new tits and saying to myself like Kate B. " I made those!") are mental. I am more at peace and I'm able to concentrate in a way I couldn't before. As an example: when I start writing, words and ideas flows in a way that I haven't experienced since early puberty. I've also noticed that my short term memory seems to have gotten worse. Like I get up from the computer to do/get something and when I reach the door to the living room I have no idea what I was going to do. Of course this could be an age thing or a side effect of the better concentration, I'm so into what I do at the computer that I plain forget the minor things, like cocking dinner.
I also feel emotions more strongly. The tears that have trickled down lately when watching TV-shows would fill a bucket. When I saw the video of Nema dying in Iran I cried on and off for hours. I passed a Persian restaurant nearby and the tears started flowing again. In all my years as a male I can only remember really crying one time. And tears of joy at the birth of my daughters. Now that I think of it I also shed tears when hearing "Jag vill leva i Europa" a great Swedish song about how the missiles are aimed at different cities.
And babies, puppies and, most of all, cats just makes me feeling warm and fuzzy. I feel the urge to let a cat adopt me growing every day.
On the whole the combination of hormones and socialisation have made me a more harmonious, happier and more fulfilled woman than the aspiring woman I was a year ago.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
But the changes that I've been most aware of lately (aside from constantly touching my lovely new tits and saying to myself like Kate B. " I made those!") are mental. I am more at peace and I'm able to concentrate in a way I couldn't before. As an example: when I start writing, words and ideas flows in a way that I haven't experienced since early puberty. I've also noticed that my short term memory seems to have gotten worse. Like I get up from the computer to do/get something and when I reach the door to the living room I have no idea what I was going to do. Of course this could be an age thing or a side effect of the better concentration, I'm so into what I do at the computer that I plain forget the minor things, like cocking dinner.
I also feel emotions more strongly. The tears that have trickled down lately when watching TV-shows would fill a bucket. When I saw the video of Nema dying in Iran I cried on and off for hours. I passed a Persian restaurant nearby and the tears started flowing again. In all my years as a male I can only remember really crying one time. And tears of joy at the birth of my daughters. Now that I think of it I also shed tears when hearing "Jag vill leva i Europa" a great Swedish song about how the missiles are aimed at different cities.
And babies, puppies and, most of all, cats just makes me feeling warm and fuzzy. I feel the urge to let a cat adopt me growing every day.
On the whole the combination of hormones and socialisation have made me a more harmonious, happier and more fulfilled woman than the aspiring woman I was a year ago.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 22, 2009
Real or Fake? #realfake
Yesterday Kate Bornstein started a new topic on Twitter, #realfake. I had an unusually lazy day and didn't catch the stream until it was under way. But as I understood it Kate's question was what makes us feel real and what makes us feel fake.
What have made me feel real lately is the realisation that I AM a woman. Not a man desperately wishing to be the woman on the outside as well as the inside. I don't know what have brought on this realization, suddenly it was just there. I guess it's a combination of my brain and body adjusting due to hormones, living 24/7 as a woman, and friends in RL and on the net accepting me as a woman.
An example: I had lunch the other day with Barbara Carrellas (a wonderful girl). After the lunch we walked around the Old Town here in Stockholm. And not once during our meanderings through the small streets did it occur to me that we were anything but two women chatting, sometimes giggling and in Barbara's case doggy patting. It was a fun, interesting and valuable experience that even further anchored me in my reality as a woman. Thanks Barbara!
What makes me feel fake? Whenever I have to pretend to be someone/something I'm not. This was very hurtful before I started living 24/7 as a woman. Pretending to be "one of the guys" was awful. I felt like I was just one big fat lie.
This was a very short, for me, post. But I'll be back again don't you fret. I have at least two posts bubbling away in the back of my mind.
And here is a pic of me and Barbara at the venerable old resturant "Stortorgskällaren". She had sole, I had pork and onion sauce.
What have made me feel real lately is the realisation that I AM a woman. Not a man desperately wishing to be the woman on the outside as well as the inside. I don't know what have brought on this realization, suddenly it was just there. I guess it's a combination of my brain and body adjusting due to hormones, living 24/7 as a woman, and friends in RL and on the net accepting me as a woman.
An example: I had lunch the other day with Barbara Carrellas (a wonderful girl). After the lunch we walked around the Old Town here in Stockholm. And not once during our meanderings through the small streets did it occur to me that we were anything but two women chatting, sometimes giggling and in Barbara's case doggy patting. It was a fun, interesting and valuable experience that even further anchored me in my reality as a woman. Thanks Barbara!
What makes me feel fake? Whenever I have to pretend to be someone/something I'm not. This was very hurtful before I started living 24/7 as a woman. Pretending to be "one of the guys" was awful. I felt like I was just one big fat lie.
This was a very short, for me, post. But I'll be back again don't you fret. I have at least two posts bubbling away in the back of my mind.
And here is a pic of me and Barbara at the venerable old resturant "Stortorgskällaren". She had sole, I had pork and onion sauce.
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes till next time
Caisa
NEWSFLASH! The Swedish church will perform samesex marriage as of Nov 1.
For you to understand how big this is I'll explain a bit of the Swedish church's role in our society.
Until quite recently it was the official church, the state sanctioned sect. It was founded in the 1500s when it was decided to scrap the pope and follow Martin Luther. For centuries it was the only church allowed in Sweden and it have almost always been a tool of those in power. Teaching the working classes to obedient to those that God had put above them. But this is not to be meant as a tirade against the church and religion so let's turn to gender and sex.
The Swedish church is the biggest we have, no other comes near it in number of members. Until very recently you became a member when you were born unless your parents asked that you shouldn't. And when you mention the the word church most Swedes think about the former state church. It's influence on politics and morals is unfortunately still very great.
Some good have to be said about it. The issue of samesex marriage have been on it's agenda for about fifty years. Not a bad track record for a Lutheran church of this size and its history of oppression.
The Swedish parliament decided that as of this spring marriage is not an exclusively hetero affair. The institutions that were already allowed to perform marriages would keep that privilege provided they also allowed samesex marriages. So the Swedish church's decision today is a kind of conversion under the gallows. If they hadn't made it they would have lost one of their main source of revenue. And the churches would be even more empty than they are now.
But even this old atheist and anarchist is influenced by tradition and romantic images. Most Swedes are. So if I wish it were not so the fact is that it is a MAJOR thing for us.
My dream wedding is at a cemetery here in Stockholm, Skogskyrkogården. I know it sounds weird but all will be explained in my third "Flash Forward. Watch this space for the next installment.
I might have got the details about all this slightly wrong but the main facts are accurate.
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
Until quite recently it was the official church, the state sanctioned sect. It was founded in the 1500s when it was decided to scrap the pope and follow Martin Luther. For centuries it was the only church allowed in Sweden and it have almost always been a tool of those in power. Teaching the working classes to obedient to those that God had put above them. But this is not to be meant as a tirade against the church and religion so let's turn to gender and sex.
The Swedish church is the biggest we have, no other comes near it in number of members. Until very recently you became a member when you were born unless your parents asked that you shouldn't. And when you mention the the word church most Swedes think about the former state church. It's influence on politics and morals is unfortunately still very great.
Some good have to be said about it. The issue of samesex marriage have been on it's agenda for about fifty years. Not a bad track record for a Lutheran church of this size and its history of oppression.
The Swedish parliament decided that as of this spring marriage is not an exclusively hetero affair. The institutions that were already allowed to perform marriages would keep that privilege provided they also allowed samesex marriages. So the Swedish church's decision today is a kind of conversion under the gallows. If they hadn't made it they would have lost one of their main source of revenue. And the churches would be even more empty than they are now.
But even this old atheist and anarchist is influenced by tradition and romantic images. Most Swedes are. So if I wish it were not so the fact is that it is a MAJOR thing for us.
My dream wedding is at a cemetery here in Stockholm, Skogskyrkogården. I know it sounds weird but all will be explained in my third "Flash Forward. Watch this space for the next installment.
I might have got the details about all this slightly wrong but the main facts are accurate.
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 19, 2009
What is #muffmunchmonday?
Well the name is self explanatory isn't it?
It's like #followfriday but #muffmunchmonday is for lesbian and bi women/girls of all genders. Seven weeks ago I woke up way too early on an a Monday morning and #muffmunchmonday just popped into my head. I really have LizzY the LessY to thank for it, without her funny and poignant videos I would never have gotten the idea. (Why do I spell LizzY with a Y at the end? That's the way she does it, check out her vids to find out whY)
My hope was to get #muffmunchmonday as a trending topic, maybe a bit optimistic but what would life be without unrealistic expectations? #muffmunchmonday was spreading slowly but surely until last Monday when the result was less than satisfactory. But this, the 7th #muffmunchmonday seems to have gotten off to a good start. So, all my lovely lezzie lassies let's go to it!
And as a little bonus and encouragement I'm giving you this from my x-rated blog, The Musings of a Cougar
As I tweeted earlier today I took a nap hoping to dream of #muffmunchmonday. Alas that didn't happen. But as I drifted of to sleep the muffs I've munched in the past appeared on a film behind my eyelids. (It took a while to nod off)
It never ceases to amaze me how different they all are. The. taste, the smell, the colour, the shape, the size of the lips, the texture inside and out. I've never encountered a muff that wasn't completely unique. And with a few exceptions I loved them all (after all bad personal hygiene can be disastrous for a happy muffmunching).
And all the haircuts! From the wild, wild bush to the bare naked. Each with it's own charm. To wake up the next day with a reminder of the night before stuck between two teeth can be a nice cue to start all over. And a bald muff makes it all the easier to explore every nook and cranny. I love to coiffure a muff. The style depending on the hair and the bodily background, how it will look on that particular muff.
The hair out of the way we're coming closer to the heart of the matter. The parting of the sea, or in this case the lips. (Go away Moses with your sea and your staff!) Lips, lips, how do I love thee? Let me cunt the ways. (No let's not, that would take too much time.) Small, almost hidden and childlike. Folded out like a welcoming flower. Thin and long or fat and long. As an BDSM aficionado I must confess that I have a predilection for somewhat larger lips. Nipple clamps can be used in more ways than one. ;-)
And the nectar of the Goddesses. Sometimes flowing like water from a moss ringed forest well. Sometimes slow flowing like if saturated with honey.
Then the tongue finding the pearl, her thighs closing around my head. Her moans and shrieks.
A couple of fingers pressing on that special spot and she might give me even more of that nectar.
Goddess! I've made myself quite exited. I think I'll stop here.
When we arrived at the lovely, isolated cottage a bout of love making ensued. After which M started pruning the garden in the nude. A lovely sight indeed, but after a while I put on some rudimentary clothing and took a stroll in the surrounding forest. I was hoping to find some blueberries, But to my delight I found an abundance of wild strawberries. When I returned to the cottage M was still naked and half asleep on a blanket in the sun.
I gently parted her thighs and proceeded to line her muff lips with wild strawberries, got my camera and took a few shots of the delicious dish. It was such an enticing sight that I didn't want to disturb it. Just as I was going to do just that M said: "Aren't you going to eat them? Don't you like wild strawberries?" . That was all the encouragement I needed. I tried to gently lick them of her but soon they were more or less crushed. The taste and smell of the sweet mixture! It was one of the best fruit dishes I've ever had. :-)
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
It's like #followfriday but #muffmunchmonday is for lesbian and bi women/girls of all genders. Seven weeks ago I woke up way too early on an a Monday morning and #muffmunchmonday just popped into my head. I really have LizzY the LessY to thank for it, without her funny and poignant videos I would never have gotten the idea. (Why do I spell LizzY with a Y at the end? That's the way she does it, check out her vids to find out whY)
My hope was to get #muffmunchmonday as a trending topic, maybe a bit optimistic but what would life be without unrealistic expectations? #muffmunchmonday was spreading slowly but surely until last Monday when the result was less than satisfactory. But this, the 7th #muffmunchmonday seems to have gotten off to a good start. So, all my lovely lezzie lassies let's go to it!
And as a little bonus and encouragement I'm giving you this from my x-rated blog, The Musings of a Cougar
#muffmunchmonday and why I love it
And not just on Mondays.
As I tweeted earlier today I took a nap hoping to dream of #muffmunchmonday. Alas that didn't happen. But as I drifted of to sleep the muffs I've munched in the past appeared on a film behind my eyelids. (It took a while to nod off)
It never ceases to amaze me how different they all are. The. taste, the smell, the colour, the shape, the size of the lips, the texture inside and out. I've never encountered a muff that wasn't completely unique. And with a few exceptions I loved them all (after all bad personal hygiene can be disastrous for a happy muffmunching).
And all the haircuts! From the wild, wild bush to the bare naked. Each with it's own charm. To wake up the next day with a reminder of the night before stuck between two teeth can be a nice cue to start all over. And a bald muff makes it all the easier to explore every nook and cranny. I love to coiffure a muff. The style depending on the hair and the bodily background, how it will look on that particular muff.
The hair out of the way we're coming closer to the heart of the matter. The parting of the sea, or in this case the lips. (Go away Moses with your sea and your staff!) Lips, lips, how do I love thee? Let me cunt the ways. (No let's not, that would take too much time.) Small, almost hidden and childlike. Folded out like a welcoming flower. Thin and long or fat and long. As an BDSM aficionado I must confess that I have a predilection for somewhat larger lips. Nipple clamps can be used in more ways than one. ;-)
And the nectar of the Goddesses. Sometimes flowing like water from a moss ringed forest well. Sometimes slow flowing like if saturated with honey.
Then the tongue finding the pearl, her thighs closing around my head. Her moans and shrieks.
A couple of fingers pressing on that special spot and she might give me even more of that nectar.
Goddess! I've made myself quite exited. I think I'll stop here.
Strawberry Muffs Forever. a follow up to #muffmunchmonday
It was a wonderful balmy day in the summer of 89. A friend, let's call her Madeline, was taking me to her parents summer house in Sörmland ( an idyllic part of Sweden) Where she was going to see to the garden.When we arrived at the lovely, isolated cottage a bout of love making ensued. After which M started pruning the garden in the nude. A lovely sight indeed, but after a while I put on some rudimentary clothing and took a stroll in the surrounding forest. I was hoping to find some blueberries, But to my delight I found an abundance of wild strawberries. When I returned to the cottage M was still naked and half asleep on a blanket in the sun.
I gently parted her thighs and proceeded to line her muff lips with wild strawberries, got my camera and took a few shots of the delicious dish. It was such an enticing sight that I didn't want to disturb it. Just as I was going to do just that M said: "Aren't you going to eat them? Don't you like wild strawberries?" . That was all the encouragement I needed. I tried to gently lick them of her but soon they were more or less crushed. The taste and smell of the sweet mixture! It was one of the best fruit dishes I've ever had. :-)
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 18, 2009
Lizzy Limerick
There was a young girl named LizzY
Her mind became severely dizzY
When for lunch
She got to munch
The delicious muff of doc IzzY
Revised to better fit the limerick rhythm
Her mind became severely dizzY
When for lunch
She got to munch
The delicious muff of doc IzzY
Revised to better fit the limerick rhythm
October 16, 2009
TransCanada: What does it mean to be a woman?
TransCanada: What does it mean to be a woman?
She expresses just what I feel in a way that goes straight to my heart. Read and reflect.
She expresses just what I feel in a way that goes straight to my heart. Read and reflect.
October 15, 2009
Mixed Thursday Ramblings
Just a few things that have tumbled around in my mind lately, no particular order.
Did I miss the love of my life at the Stockholm Pride party last Saturday? I had been out for a smoke (Yes I know I'm supposed to quit. But at a party?) and some interesting conversations and was going into the room where the dancing took place, not to dance but to get another glass of wine. Then out of nowhere she swept past me. I just got a brief glimpse of her face, enough to see that she was angry or upset. Tall, straight and beautiful she strode fast out of the place and out of my life. She was tall and slender with blond hair in a sort of bun. She was wearing slacks and a greenish/greyish top. I felt an impulse, almost compulsion, to rush after her. But being kinda shy in these situations I didn't. I know that I will remember her as long as I live.
I've had a few moments in my long life like that, seeing a woman for a brief moment and remember her forever. The earliest I can recall happened when I was 12 or 13. I was at a famous beach in the south of Sweden, Tylösand, with my parents. I didn't particularly want to go but at that age what choice did you have? We had had just settled down and I was sulkily watching mum and dad getting out our lunch stuff when a few dunes away I spotted this gorgeous vision. She was just raising from her blanket, Tall bronzed and blonde with a full curvy figure clad only in a small bikini. The first thing that came int my mind was, "a Greek goddess". She picked up her stuff and I admired every graceful movement as she walked away over the sand dunes.
Do you have any such brief moments that you never forget?
And now for something completely different.
Who/what do I identify as?
It all depends on the circumstances. It could be SciFi-fan, unemployed, parent, lazy lady....
But the mainstay of my basic identity is that I am:
First and foremost I am a woman.
Second I am a lesbian.
Third I am transsexual
It's important for me that my identity is first as a woman and not as transsexual. This makes me a member of the group women, subgroup transwomen. Not something separate from the women group but a part of it. And the same applies to lesbian, I'm a part of the group lesbian, subgroup transsexual. If I was to have transsexual as my most important identity I fell I would in some way exclude myself from the groups women and lesbians. Like standing outside looking in. Does this make sense?
And now over to the medical section
I've had so many blood samples taken lately I feel like I'm in True Blood.
First I went to my GP, who is a wonderful human and doctor, hi Anne Charlotte. I've been very tired recently, well a few months actually, getting out of breath just walking up the stairs, three floors. So she ordered some blood work done. I returned a week ago to get the verdict. Everything was just dandy with the blood tests. She listened to my heart and lungs and took the blood pressure. I even got to blow in a tube to test my lung capacity. Nothing wrong there. So it was as I suspected all along: I've been too lazy, It's time to get some exercise. I'll start tomorrow, I promise!
And this past Monday I had a check up with my endo doc. Everything was perfect, all hormone levels were right where they should be for a woman. Unfortunately she didn't have any wonder meds that would make my boobs grow even faster.
So next on the medical front is getting the authorities to OK my SRS, which hopefully will take place in March or April.
And to end on an all together different topic
Four times in a row now I've had dreams of a woman who is much like Shane from L-word
Not just your garden variety wet dream, but of us meeting at a café, walking around in a lovely summer Stockholm and other ordinary stuff. And also hot steaming sex. How I wish this is a true vision of the future and not just an impossible dream. In my darkest moments (Yes I have them too) I despair of ever finding a woman to love. I mean who would want an over 60 single lesbian who was once a man (on the outside), unemployed and a computer nerd. Add BDSM into the mix and the prospects are rather bleak. Then I walk in our wonderful town and a woman gives me that special look and smile. And I'm happy for the rest of that day.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes till next time
Caisa
Did I miss the love of my life at the Stockholm Pride party last Saturday? I had been out for a smoke (Yes I know I'm supposed to quit. But at a party?) and some interesting conversations and was going into the room where the dancing took place, not to dance but to get another glass of wine. Then out of nowhere she swept past me. I just got a brief glimpse of her face, enough to see that she was angry or upset. Tall, straight and beautiful she strode fast out of the place and out of my life. She was tall and slender with blond hair in a sort of bun. She was wearing slacks and a greenish/greyish top. I felt an impulse, almost compulsion, to rush after her. But being kinda shy in these situations I didn't. I know that I will remember her as long as I live.
I've had a few moments in my long life like that, seeing a woman for a brief moment and remember her forever. The earliest I can recall happened when I was 12 or 13. I was at a famous beach in the south of Sweden, Tylösand, with my parents. I didn't particularly want to go but at that age what choice did you have? We had had just settled down and I was sulkily watching mum and dad getting out our lunch stuff when a few dunes away I spotted this gorgeous vision. She was just raising from her blanket, Tall bronzed and blonde with a full curvy figure clad only in a small bikini. The first thing that came int my mind was, "a Greek goddess". She picked up her stuff and I admired every graceful movement as she walked away over the sand dunes.
Do you have any such brief moments that you never forget?
This is the ingenious pick nick set we had
And now for something completely different.
Who/what do I identify as?
It all depends on the circumstances. It could be SciFi-fan, unemployed, parent, lazy lady....
But the mainstay of my basic identity is that I am:
First and foremost I am a woman.
Second I am a lesbian.
Third I am transsexual
It's important for me that my identity is first as a woman and not as transsexual. This makes me a member of the group women, subgroup transwomen. Not something separate from the women group but a part of it. And the same applies to lesbian, I'm a part of the group lesbian, subgroup transsexual. If I was to have transsexual as my most important identity I fell I would in some way exclude myself from the groups women and lesbians. Like standing outside looking in. Does this make sense?
And now over to the medical section
I've had so many blood samples taken lately I feel like I'm in True Blood.
First I went to my GP, who is a wonderful human and doctor, hi Anne Charlotte. I've been very tired recently, well a few months actually, getting out of breath just walking up the stairs, three floors. So she ordered some blood work done. I returned a week ago to get the verdict. Everything was just dandy with the blood tests. She listened to my heart and lungs and took the blood pressure. I even got to blow in a tube to test my lung capacity. Nothing wrong there. So it was as I suspected all along: I've been too lazy, It's time to get some exercise. I'll start tomorrow, I promise!And this past Monday I had a check up with my endo doc. Everything was perfect, all hormone levels were right where they should be for a woman. Unfortunately she didn't have any wonder meds that would make my boobs grow even faster.
So next on the medical front is getting the authorities to OK my SRS, which hopefully will take place in March or April.
And to end on an all together different topic
Four times in a row now I've had dreams of a woman who is much like Shane from L-word
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes till next time
Caisa
October 14, 2009
Stockholm Pride Party Oct 09
Last Saturday there was a party for all of us who had worked as volunteers at Stockholm Pride 2009. The party was at a historic resturant/dance hall called Nalen. Here the big names in jazz played in the 40s and 50s and the Beatles played here in the 60s. So it's a placed filled with history , music and joy.
It was great to meet the friends I worked with at Pride House as well as new friends that had worked in Pride Park or Pride Garden. The most surprising was a guy who works at Pressbyrån (a nation wide chain of outlets for magazine, tobacco, newspaper and more. They can be found at most subway, train and bus stations) I have bought tobacco from him for years and had no idea he is gay.
As expected we were a motley crew. All ages, sexual preferences, genders and dress styles were present. The ones closest to my heart was the young punkish/gothish kids. I love their rebelliousness and in your face attitude.
I had planned on dressing in a a black dress designed by Madonna for HM. But in the chaos that is my flat I couldn't find it so I opted for leather. Black leather boots with a bit of a heel, black seemed stockings, black knee length leather skirt, black T-shirt with the text "When the Goddess made this body she was showing off" and over it all an old black leather biker jacket. (I shouldn't wear reading glasses so far down on the nose. It makes my nose look even bigger than it is.)
We were treated to a delicious dish with chicken breast, couscous and veggies, and of course there were alternatives for vegetarians and for those with allergies. Everyone got a ticket for a drink of their choice, mine was a glass of red wine. And if you completed a questionnaire you got one more drink ticket. If you wanted more the prices in the bar were very reasonable.
So what about LGBT issues? Well, it was a party after all. But I had some interesting conversations on a whole range of topics. And every opportunity I got I suggested that Kate Bornstein should be invited to Stockholm Pride 2010. I also offered to work in the program committee and on anything trans related. What will come of that remains to be seen.
All in all I had a great evening with a bunch of like minded queers, gays and lesbians. And I finish this post with some pictures of two cuties that embodies what being out, proud and happy is all about.
Hugs, kisses, love and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 11, 2009
October 9, 2009
Flash Forward. 2: 2014. A Visitor Reports on Secret Lesbian Town in Sweden
As this is my second Flash Forward blog post I'm thinking it's going to be a regular topic here. Whenever I daydream about the future or get a flash of inspiration I'll be contemplating if it's worthy of a flash forward. ´[Enough with the excuses over to the actual subject!] Yes, Madam, as you command.
The following is taken from the article "It's true: An account of a visit to the secret lesbian town in Sweden in the summer of 2014" by Salka Valka.
"I was met at Sundsvall airport by two lovely girls that were the perfect image of the Nordic woman. Tall, young, blond with ample bosoms they looked like they had walked right out of a Wagner Opera. We dumped my bags in the trunk and away we went. I had expected that we would head right into the wild, wild woods. Instead we followed a river, Ångermanälven, through a beautiful landscape with small towns and villages and small farmsteads. Now and then we glimpsed old abandoned saw mills and paper mills. Eventually we turned away from the river and into a proper forest. And the girls, Kristina and Lisa, explained to me how Selma came into being. Selma is not really a town, it's more of a camp with some timber cottages and a lot of tents.
Back in 2009 a rumour started in China about a secret lesbian town in the north of Sweden. Some women of said persuasion had a nice evening together in December, some wine and other beverages were consumed when someone suggested that they start a town like that. Out of that joke grew an idea that some kind of summer camp might be nice. A few months later one of the women came into some money and they decided to go ahead with the project. After some research they decided to by a tract of land in Ångermanland by a lake called Långsjön. It's in the middle of nowhere with just an old lumber road leading up to it. They decided to call the place Selma after Selma Lagerlöf, the Swedish lesbian author and winner of the Nobel Prize in literature. During the first summer they built some old style timber cottages, like the ones used by lumberjacks way back. The rumour spread about Selma in the lesbian community and women began to turn up. Some just to visit, some to help build the little village that was growing up at the lake side.
The first year it wasn't much but next summer saw a veritable invasion of lezzie lassies. A kind of anarchist way of running things developed and it was agreed not to make too much noise about the existence of Selma. To let the knowledge of it's existence be spread by word of mouth, to keep authorities and media out. And to make Selma a women only place. And now that the cat was out of the bag they had decided to invite a few chosen journalists to visit. The first of which was me.
As they told me about the history of Selma the roads we travelled became steadily smaller and finally we drove on an unpaved dirt road with deep ruts. Rounding a bend in the road a I saw it for the first time. It was almost midnight and a reddish sunlight illuminated the village. It consisted of about 30 log buildings a plethora of tents in every colour and shape. I felt very exited despite my long journey, I was finally about to enter the fabled "Secret Lesbian Town"
(to be continued)
That's it for now. I may or may not continue the story of Selma. And maybe some of you would like to continue with the tale. And maybe we could even make it real? ;-)
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes 'till next time
Caisa
The following is taken from the article "It's true: An account of a visit to the secret lesbian town in Sweden in the summer of 2014" by Salka Valka.
"I was met at Sundsvall airport by two lovely girls that were the perfect image of the Nordic woman. Tall, young, blond with ample bosoms they looked like they had walked right out of a Wagner Opera. We dumped my bags in the trunk and away we went. I had expected that we would head right into the wild, wild woods. Instead we followed a river, Ångermanälven, through a beautiful landscape with small towns and villages and small farmsteads. Now and then we glimpsed old abandoned saw mills and paper mills. Eventually we turned away from the river and into a proper forest. And the girls, Kristina and Lisa, explained to me how Selma came into being. Selma is not really a town, it's more of a camp with some timber cottages and a lot of tents.
Back in 2009 a rumour started in China about a secret lesbian town in the north of Sweden. Some women of said persuasion had a nice evening together in December, some wine and other beverages were consumed when someone suggested that they start a town like that. Out of that joke grew an idea that some kind of summer camp might be nice. A few months later one of the women came into some money and they decided to go ahead with the project. After some research they decided to by a tract of land in Ångermanland by a lake called Långsjön. It's in the middle of nowhere with just an old lumber road leading up to it. They decided to call the place Selma after Selma Lagerlöf, the Swedish lesbian author and winner of the Nobel Prize in literature. During the first summer they built some old style timber cottages, like the ones used by lumberjacks way back. The rumour spread about Selma in the lesbian community and women began to turn up. Some just to visit, some to help build the little village that was growing up at the lake side.
The first year it wasn't much but next summer saw a veritable invasion of lezzie lassies. A kind of anarchist way of running things developed and it was agreed not to make too much noise about the existence of Selma. To let the knowledge of it's existence be spread by word of mouth, to keep authorities and media out. And to make Selma a women only place. And now that the cat was out of the bag they had decided to invite a few chosen journalists to visit. The first of which was me.
As they told me about the history of Selma the roads we travelled became steadily smaller and finally we drove on an unpaved dirt road with deep ruts. Rounding a bend in the road a I saw it for the first time. It was almost midnight and a reddish sunlight illuminated the village. It consisted of about 30 log buildings a plethora of tents in every colour and shape. I felt very exited despite my long journey, I was finally about to enter the fabled "Secret Lesbian Town"
(to be continued)
That's it for now. I may or may not continue the story of Selma. And maybe some of you would like to continue with the tale. And maybe we could even make it real? ;-)
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes 'till next time
Caisa
October 6, 2009
Come Out, Come Out, Whoever You Are
The international coming out day is fast approaching so I'm taking this opportunity to share my views on the subject and also to give some advice.
Keeping something secret about yourself, who you really are, your innermost desires, will eventually do you more harm than any consequence of letting the secret out. And the consequences are almost always not as bad as they are in your imagination. When you come out to the ones that are close to you you may get a wide range of responses. From "So what, if that's what you need and and makes you happy." via "Why didn't you tell us before." to the worst one "You're not my daughter/son any more. Out of my house.". Whatever the reaction is, it is something you can deal with in real life. Not some awful possibility that grows and grows in your mind.
If you don't come out the secret will fester like an infected boil. It will grow bigger and more painful everyday. Fear, self loathing and anger will become an ever bigger part of what you are feeling until one day the boil bursts and it all comes pouring out. The worst case scenario being that you try to take your own life.
And ANYTHING is better than that. If you feel like you're about to take that final step I recommend that you try to get a hold of a copy of Kate Bornstein's book "Hello Cruel World" and as a first step visit her website. And also try to find a friend or counsel to talk to, a therapist, a prist, anyone as long as someone is listening to you it doesn't matter who. You can also find help online on the net in some of all the social media that is out there.
How you should come out is something only you can decide. It can be face to face individually, you can invite all those closest to you for a cup of coffee and tell them all at the same time (alcohol should probably be avoided), you can write letters and explain all to them, but avoid email as it doesn't have that personal touch. You can drop hints before the big revelation. What kind depends on what you secret is. "Isn't that L-word series great?" "I think George Cloney is kinda cute." "I think women have so many great outfits to chose from." "I wish I didn't have to wear a dress at the prom." I'm sure you can figure out hints that suite you.
Besides the fact that keeping the secret festering inside you makes you fell bad it's not really honest to keep the real you hidden from the ones you love. I don't suggest that you suddenly bare every nook and cranny of your soul to all and sundry. But that you let those close to you know the basic you.
My own coming out story is not at all dramatic. I started coming out a bit at a time at the place where I worked, at the café of a free cultural organisation in Stockholm. I organised something I called Café Queer once a month with different themes and artists. At this stage I was more out as a gender bender than transsexual. Eventually I came out fully at work and was also part of something we called Queer Qult which was an explicit LGBT event. We had some very good events with great artists and other guests, hi Nina, hi Jan, as well as workshops. So, I was out at work but my family didn't know. Which left me with a constant worry that I should bump into them on my way to work or that that they should just turn up at the café.
When I started the assessments for getting diagnosed as a transsexual I wrote a letter to those closest to me, my daughters, parents, siblings. Not an altogether wise move as it some felt it was too impersonal. But the negative reactions I had expected to the message itself, that I started the process of changing my sex, were completely absent. We have other issues, as have every family, but none regarding my transsexuality. I guess I've been very lucky with my loved ones and also lucky to live in a society that, in general, have no trouble accepting me as woman who was once a man.
What people seems to have a hard time getting their head round is that I have always been sexually attracted to women and always will be. That now that I'm a woman I'm also a lesbian. The hetero norm is so deeply embedded in us all.
What this post boils down to is: For your own sake, your mental and physical health. coming out is almost always better than staying in the closet and suffer silently on your own.
Let's all be out and proud!
I'm an out and proud lesbian transwoman and anyone having a problem with that can go andfuck castrate themselves.
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
Keeping something secret about yourself, who you really are, your innermost desires, will eventually do you more harm than any consequence of letting the secret out. And the consequences are almost always not as bad as they are in your imagination. When you come out to the ones that are close to you you may get a wide range of responses. From "So what, if that's what you need and and makes you happy." via "Why didn't you tell us before." to the worst one "You're not my daughter/son any more. Out of my house.". Whatever the reaction is, it is something you can deal with in real life. Not some awful possibility that grows and grows in your mind.
If you don't come out the secret will fester like an infected boil. It will grow bigger and more painful everyday. Fear, self loathing and anger will become an ever bigger part of what you are feeling until one day the boil bursts and it all comes pouring out. The worst case scenario being that you try to take your own life.
And ANYTHING is better than that. If you feel like you're about to take that final step I recommend that you try to get a hold of a copy of Kate Bornstein's book "Hello Cruel World" and as a first step visit her website. And also try to find a friend or counsel to talk to, a therapist, a prist, anyone as long as someone is listening to you it doesn't matter who. You can also find help online on the net in some of all the social media that is out there.
How you should come out is something only you can decide. It can be face to face individually, you can invite all those closest to you for a cup of coffee and tell them all at the same time (alcohol should probably be avoided), you can write letters and explain all to them, but avoid email as it doesn't have that personal touch. You can drop hints before the big revelation. What kind depends on what you secret is. "Isn't that L-word series great?" "I think George Cloney is kinda cute." "I think women have so many great outfits to chose from." "I wish I didn't have to wear a dress at the prom." I'm sure you can figure out hints that suite you.
Besides the fact that keeping the secret festering inside you makes you fell bad it's not really honest to keep the real you hidden from the ones you love. I don't suggest that you suddenly bare every nook and cranny of your soul to all and sundry. But that you let those close to you know the basic you.
My own coming out story is not at all dramatic. I started coming out a bit at a time at the place where I worked, at the café of a free cultural organisation in Stockholm. I organised something I called Café Queer once a month with different themes and artists. At this stage I was more out as a gender bender than transsexual. Eventually I came out fully at work and was also part of something we called Queer Qult which was an explicit LGBT event. We had some very good events with great artists and other guests, hi Nina, hi Jan, as well as workshops. So, I was out at work but my family didn't know. Which left me with a constant worry that I should bump into them on my way to work or that that they should just turn up at the café.
When I started the assessments for getting diagnosed as a transsexual I wrote a letter to those closest to me, my daughters, parents, siblings. Not an altogether wise move as it some felt it was too impersonal. But the negative reactions I had expected to the message itself, that I started the process of changing my sex, were completely absent. We have other issues, as have every family, but none regarding my transsexuality. I guess I've been very lucky with my loved ones and also lucky to live in a society that, in general, have no trouble accepting me as woman who was once a man.
What people seems to have a hard time getting their head round is that I have always been sexually attracted to women and always will be. That now that I'm a woman I'm also a lesbian. The hetero norm is so deeply embedded in us all.
What this post boils down to is: For your own sake, your mental and physical health. coming out is almost always better than staying in the closet and suffer silently on your own.
Let's all be out and proud!
I'm an out and proud lesbian transwoman and anyone having a problem with that can go and
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 5, 2009
Using Imagination To Anchor Yourself In Reality
A few days ago I wrote a short post inspired by the TV-series Flash Forward. It was very loosely based on some facts. I am working on a translation of Kate's book. I hope to meet up with Barbara when she is in Sweden in a few weeks. The girl we rescue is very loosely based on two girls I've met, a one night snogg in a club when I was 15 and a friend I haven't met in many years got to lend her name to the girl. (If you read this do you remember an Easter night in a unfinished house in Bagarmossen? ;-) Let's get in touch.)
The post was not meant to be anything more than some lightweight entertainment. And to you that read it there's all there is. But to me a couple of hours after I wrote it it suddenly became clear that an important part of this spoof was going to be true.
I've known intellectually that I will sometime in the not so distant future have the SRS and all other things connected with a gender correction. But it's one thing to know the bare facts and to yearn for them to come true and quite another to KNOW in the depths of your soul and the marrow of your bones that it will happen. And writing that little nothing of a post made it so. It's now obvious to me in every way that in less than a year I will be woman in body as well as soul. It's a feeling that is so liberating and wonderful it's impossible to put into words.
So, dear readers, put down something in words that you would like to happen in your life. Just make up any kind of story, don't think about realism or believability, just have some fun. I think the important part is to put it down in words, on the computer or on paper doesn't matter. You don't have to publish it. The interaction is between your concious and subconscious selves. Never mind if you have a completely different experience than me. Making up a story is in itself an enjoyable experience.
Love, kisses, hugs and lashes until next time
Caisa
The post was not meant to be anything more than some lightweight entertainment. And to you that read it there's all there is. But to me a couple of hours after I wrote it it suddenly became clear that an important part of this spoof was going to be true.
I've known intellectually that I will sometime in the not so distant future have the SRS and all other things connected with a gender correction. But it's one thing to know the bare facts and to yearn for them to come true and quite another to KNOW in the depths of your soul and the marrow of your bones that it will happen. And writing that little nothing of a post made it so. It's now obvious to me in every way that in less than a year I will be woman in body as well as soul. It's a feeling that is so liberating and wonderful it's impossible to put into words.
So, dear readers, put down something in words that you would like to happen in your life. Just make up any kind of story, don't think about realism or believability, just have some fun. I think the important part is to put it down in words, on the computer or on paper doesn't matter. You don't have to publish it. The interaction is between your concious and subconscious selves. Never mind if you have a completely different experience than me. Making up a story is in itself an enjoyable experience.
Love, kisses, hugs and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 3, 2009
#FlashForward featuring Caisa the Cougar, Kate Bornstein, Barbara Carellas and all the queers in Europe
I just watched the second episode of Flash Forward and I still think it's rather good and have a lot of potential. But as usual I miss the gay, lez and trans characters.
And the show gave me an idea for a blog post.
Flash forward to Oct 3 2010
I'm sitting in the arrivals lounge at Arlanda airport outside Stockholm waiting for my girlfriend to arrive on a plane from Tel Aviv. It's been over six months since my SRS and tonight I will for the first time make love to a woman as woman to woman. Nervously I glance at my reflection in the window of a tax-free store and am at once reassured. I see a tall woman with long. curly red hair, a blouse showing an almost indecent amount of cleavage and tits whose size is decent, a tight skirt, just knee length, showing off a round ass, long shapely legs ending in a pair of semi-high pumps. A bit over the top for an ordinary evening, yes. But then this is no ordinary evening. For the first time in a month and a half I'm seeing my beautiful girlfriend, Shulla. I'm allowed to be a bit over the top. Right?
Going over to a news stand to grab something to read I glimpse a month old Time Magazine cover with the now world famous photo: Euro Pride in Warsaw, Kate Bornstein, Barbara Carellas and me standing arm in arm, protecting a girl that's being attacked by a gang of hooligans.The photo have become a symbol of how the LGBT community defended themselves against the hordes of homo phobes that had descended on Warsaw. What made it so unique was that we managed to do it in a totally non-violent way. 150 000 queers from all over Europe and the rest of the world had gathered to fight the oppression and to celebrate our diversity and love. Kate had been invited to Euro Pride to talk about her book "Hello Cruel World" that I had convinced the European Union to publish in all European languages to a reasonable price, Barbara was there to give workshops in Tantra and sex, and me, I was just there to meet friends and find new friends.
We didn't see who took the photo we were just concentrating on staring the hooligans down and then getting the girl safely inside a nearby café. We helped her get cleaned up and dried her tears. She turned out to be a 50 years old lesbian from Israel by the name of Shulamit, and she had just arrived in Warsaw that day. She was a bit taller than average, full bodied with long black flowing hair and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever drowned in. And drown I did. From that day we were never separated for a minute during Euro Pride. Then it was time for Stockholm Pride and she lived with me here for two weeks before going back to Israel. It was too soon after my operation to make love in all the way I wanted to, but, oh my Goddess, there are lot's of other ways. But tonight we will finally consummate our love. Ani chevet otach, Shulamit
Fantasy and daydream? Yes, but what else is a girl to do lonely and broke on a Saturday evening? Besides who knows, it might turn out to be a true flash forward. ;-)
There is no picture accompanying this blog post as it will not be taken until next summer.
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
And the show gave me an idea for a blog post.
Flash forward to Oct 3 2010
I'm sitting in the arrivals lounge at Arlanda airport outside Stockholm waiting for my girlfriend to arrive on a plane from Tel Aviv. It's been over six months since my SRS and tonight I will for the first time make love to a woman as woman to woman. Nervously I glance at my reflection in the window of a tax-free store and am at once reassured. I see a tall woman with long. curly red hair, a blouse showing an almost indecent amount of cleavage and tits whose size is decent, a tight skirt, just knee length, showing off a round ass, long shapely legs ending in a pair of semi-high pumps. A bit over the top for an ordinary evening, yes. But then this is no ordinary evening. For the first time in a month and a half I'm seeing my beautiful girlfriend, Shulla. I'm allowed to be a bit over the top. Right?
Going over to a news stand to grab something to read I glimpse a month old Time Magazine cover with the now world famous photo: Euro Pride in Warsaw, Kate Bornstein, Barbara Carellas and me standing arm in arm, protecting a girl that's being attacked by a gang of hooligans.The photo have become a symbol of how the LGBT community defended themselves against the hordes of homo phobes that had descended on Warsaw. What made it so unique was that we managed to do it in a totally non-violent way. 150 000 queers from all over Europe and the rest of the world had gathered to fight the oppression and to celebrate our diversity and love. Kate had been invited to Euro Pride to talk about her book "Hello Cruel World" that I had convinced the European Union to publish in all European languages to a reasonable price, Barbara was there to give workshops in Tantra and sex, and me, I was just there to meet friends and find new friends.
We didn't see who took the photo we were just concentrating on staring the hooligans down and then getting the girl safely inside a nearby café. We helped her get cleaned up and dried her tears. She turned out to be a 50 years old lesbian from Israel by the name of Shulamit, and she had just arrived in Warsaw that day. She was a bit taller than average, full bodied with long black flowing hair and the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever drowned in. And drown I did. From that day we were never separated for a minute during Euro Pride. Then it was time for Stockholm Pride and she lived with me here for two weeks before going back to Israel. It was too soon after my operation to make love in all the way I wanted to, but, oh my Goddess, there are lot's of other ways. But tonight we will finally consummate our love. Ani chevet otach, Shulamit
Fantasy and daydream? Yes, but what else is a girl to do lonely and broke on a Saturday evening? Besides who knows, it might turn out to be a true flash forward. ;-)
There is no picture accompanying this blog post as it will not be taken until next summer.
Love, hugs, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 2, 2009
Transwomen, transvestites and ciswomen
Lately there have been much discussion on the net about how ciswomen treat us transwomen. It's been a very heated discussion sometimes bordering on flame war. As I myself have had very little experience of the persecution and hate others have been the victim of I've wisely more or less kept out of it. And this blog post shouldn't be seen as a part of that debate. Even if it I to a large extent was inspired by it.
Another inspiration is the descision of a lesbian BDSM club here in Stockholm, Club Wish, to ban male transvestites from their parties and to welcome transsexuals.
The third inspiration comes from a thread I started on a forum on the biggest LGBT community in Scandinavia, QX. I simply asked how ciswomen regarded us transwomen, as sisters or as intruders.
That outright hatred and transphobia should be condemned and it's proponents exposed is for me a given. My old idol Germanie Greer should be forced to crawl on her knees to Stonewall and beg forgiveness.
I'm going to concentrate my reasoning around transwomen, and transvestites which don't mean that I exclude other folks from the trans umbrella. And that 's just the problem: the umbrella.
When a ciswoman, straight, bi or lesbian, takes a peek under that umbrella what she sees is what the media wants her to see: Fab drag queens and sequin covered "trannies" in impossibly high heels. And sadly that is the picture the general public have of us: men in drag. Partly it's our own fault that they don't know better, in an effort to present a united front we have neglected to point out a fundamental difference:
Transvestites are men, identifying as men, born as men.
Transsexuals are women, identifying as women, with a birth defect that we need to correct.
I can understand a ciswoman who don't understand these differences and as a result don't want to allow a transperson into a women only space. It's my belief that once they are aware they'll welcome transsexual women, just like the girls at the Wish Club. The fanatics and idiots are practically impossible to convince and they often have their own dark agenda. What we can do is to educate the other ciswomen so they don't buy the crap Germanie Greer and her ilk is offering.
When some transvestites complain that they are discriminated against when not being allowed to take part in Club Whish's party I frankly don't understand them. They basically identify as men so why should they be allowed in a lesbian club?
But this means we all, all of us under the trans and gender bender umbrella, have to accept and celebrate not only what we have in common but also what makes each sub group unique. And we all have to come to the defence when a single one of us is attacked or treated unfairly.
Let's chuck the umbrella in the bin, step out in the sun and let the world see us in all our beautiful diversity. Each of us a God or Goddess.
I am now going to put on a fireproof dress before I post this. ;-)
Love, kisses, hugs and lashes until next time
Caisa
Another inspiration is the descision of a lesbian BDSM club here in Stockholm, Club Wish, to ban male transvestites from their parties and to welcome transsexuals.
The third inspiration comes from a thread I started on a forum on the biggest LGBT community in Scandinavia, QX. I simply asked how ciswomen regarded us transwomen, as sisters or as intruders.
That outright hatred and transphobia should be condemned and it's proponents exposed is for me a given. My old idol Germanie Greer should be forced to crawl on her knees to Stonewall and beg forgiveness.
I'm going to concentrate my reasoning around transwomen, and transvestites which don't mean that I exclude other folks from the trans umbrella. And that 's just the problem: the umbrella.
When a ciswoman, straight, bi or lesbian, takes a peek under that umbrella what she sees is what the media wants her to see: Fab drag queens and sequin covered "trannies" in impossibly high heels. And sadly that is the picture the general public have of us: men in drag. Partly it's our own fault that they don't know better, in an effort to present a united front we have neglected to point out a fundamental difference:
Transvestites are men, identifying as men, born as men.
Transsexuals are women, identifying as women, with a birth defect that we need to correct.
I can understand a ciswoman who don't understand these differences and as a result don't want to allow a transperson into a women only space. It's my belief that once they are aware they'll welcome transsexual women, just like the girls at the Wish Club. The fanatics and idiots are practically impossible to convince and they often have their own dark agenda. What we can do is to educate the other ciswomen so they don't buy the crap Germanie Greer and her ilk is offering.
When some transvestites complain that they are discriminated against when not being allowed to take part in Club Whish's party I frankly don't understand them. They basically identify as men so why should they be allowed in a lesbian club?
But this means we all, all of us under the trans and gender bender umbrella, have to accept and celebrate not only what we have in common but also what makes each sub group unique. And we all have to come to the defence when a single one of us is attacked or treated unfairly.
Let's chuck the umbrella in the bin, step out in the sun and let the world see us in all our beautiful diversity. Each of us a God or Goddess.
I am now going to put on a fireproof dress before I post this. ;-)
Love, kisses, hugs and lashes until next time
Caisa
October 1, 2009
Non Smoking Ramblings
This business with stopping smoking is quite debilitating. It's now day 11 and I hardly smoke at all, just the occasional butt that's laying around. And of course the relapse Saturday night at Whip Club. If it wasn't for the fact that I HAVE to stop or else no SRS or voice training I'd probably start again right now. OK, I'm exaggerating. Maybe because I just changed the nicotine patch, the old one had been on for over 24 hrs. Earlier today I was with a friend at a café for over four hours and hardly felt the need to smoke at all. (So quit whining you old cow!)
One thing she made me realize amid all the talk of trans issues, gossip, lez talk and, well, you know, girl stuff, is that I could never "blend in". Never be as one with the nameless, faceless crowd of "respectable" citizens. Oh, I am now confident that I can walk around our beautiful Stockholm and that most people see a tall, middle aged woman who is fairly attractive and that's all they see. But as soon as I speak the game is up. That doesn't mean they start treating me different. Except that the gleam in some men's eyes is suddenly gone (and good riddance). And I have, so far, not spoken when I get the occasional unmistakable lesbian look-over and smile. I just give a knowing smile back and continue on my way.
I will never be able to just blend in due to my height 187 cm, same as Serena Williams. And I refuse to dress "age appropriate" as you can see in the photos here. So an anonymous part of the crowd I can never be, nor do I want to. But what she made me realize is that I am, and always have been, a rebel and an outsider. If a figure of authority tells me to do something I'm likely to do the very opposite. So when my transition is more or less complete come spring there's no risk that I'm going stealth and disappear. Probably the other way around, with the SRS and related stuff out of the way I'll have more time and energy to spend on the issues that concerns us all - transpeople, lesbians and other queers.
This wasn't at all what I was going to blog about today. But that's what nicotine abstinence does to you. You become too absorbed in yourself. I was planning to tell you about the change in gender roles in Sweden from the 30's to the present. But that will have to wait till another day. Besides I should interview mum and dad more about days gone by before I post it.
I'll leave you with this picture of me outside the Whip Club Saturday night. Yes it's quite blurry, but so was I. ;-)
Love, kisses and muff munches until next time
Caisa
One thing she made me realize amid all the talk of trans issues, gossip, lez talk and, well, you know, girl stuff, is that I could never "blend in". Never be as one with the nameless, faceless crowd of "respectable" citizens. Oh, I am now confident that I can walk around our beautiful Stockholm and that most people see a tall, middle aged woman who is fairly attractive and that's all they see. But as soon as I speak the game is up. That doesn't mean they start treating me different. Except that the gleam in some men's eyes is suddenly gone (and good riddance). And I have, so far, not spoken when I get the occasional unmistakable lesbian look-over and smile. I just give a knowing smile back and continue on my way.
I will never be able to just blend in due to my height 187 cm, same as Serena Williams. And I refuse to dress "age appropriate" as you can see in the photos here. So an anonymous part of the crowd I can never be, nor do I want to. But what she made me realize is that I am, and always have been, a rebel and an outsider. If a figure of authority tells me to do something I'm likely to do the very opposite. So when my transition is more or less complete come spring there's no risk that I'm going stealth and disappear. Probably the other way around, with the SRS and related stuff out of the way I'll have more time and energy to spend on the issues that concerns us all - transpeople, lesbians and other queers.
This wasn't at all what I was going to blog about today. But that's what nicotine abstinence does to you. You become too absorbed in yourself. I was planning to tell you about the change in gender roles in Sweden from the 30's to the present. But that will have to wait till another day. Besides I should interview mum and dad more about days gone by before I post it.
I'll leave you with this picture of me outside the Whip Club Saturday night. Yes it's quite blurry, but so was I. ;-)
Love, kisses and muff munches until next time
Caisa
This might be a good thing
Or it might be yet one more thing that keeps me frpm doing things like writing snd trsndlsting
in reference to: Google Sidewiki (view on Google Sidewiki)September 30, 2009
What's in a name? Chapter the Second
A few weeks back I posted about why I'm choosing the names I do for the me I'm about to make real.
Today, my children, I am going to teach you about how the Swedish state decides what name I can or can not have. Irrespective of what I want to be called. As you may or may not know (Tuuli and Jessicasideways you can put down your hands, Mistress Caisa knows that you know) it have now been decided that a grown up person can make her/his decision on what to be called. It's an important, but partial, victory for us transpeople in Sweden. What the decision means is that you can add a new name to the one(s) you already have even if that new name traditionally belongs to the gender that is opposite the gender the state decided you were when you were born. So say a child at birth was determined to be of the gender girl and was subsequently name Anna Lisa. As she grow up she becomes aware that she really is a boy. With the decision yesterday it is now possible for her to add say Anders to her other names. What she can not do is change it to just Anders. Well, she can eventually, after a lengthy and complicate journey of which I will tell you shortly.
The Swedish state have always believed that it knows what's best for us. No, that's not because we've had a social democrat government for so long. It have more to do with Sweden's close ties with Prussian Germany from the midle 1800s up until the end of WW2. The strong state in our case based on the concern of the citizens well being. But, being an old anarchist I will not go deeper into those murky waters.
One of the results of this "concern" is that there are restriction on what names you can give yourself or your children. The name have to be congruent with the birth gender and it may not be of a kind that will heap shame and/or ridicule on the bearer. I believe the name most often rejected is Rullgardinia. Rullgardin is Swedish for the blinds that you, not me, pull down at night. And Rullgardinia is one of many names that our beloved Astrid Lindgren bestowed on Pippi Långstrump, maybe known to you as Pippi Longstocking. (Astrid lived three blocks from where I'm writing this) In this case I think they are right to refuse parents to name a child Rullgardinia. And it might also be a bit awkward for a boy to be named Sue.
But when an adult wants to change her/his name it's another story. If it's inappropriate for my gender or if it's ridiculous I should be able chose any damn name I want to. Yes it's a step forward that I add a name, but as a transwoman I want to change my name not to add a new. And I can, there are two alternatives. The first and more complicated and slightly costly, about 500 SEK, presupposes that you are very close to applying to the state to have your gender corrected and that the doctor that handles your case writes an affidavit that you if all goes as planned will undergo the SRS in a not to distant future. This procedure will take up to six months and you will still have yout social security number (födelsenummer) which consists of your birth date plus four more numbers the third of which denotes male or female, in my case it's 490119-xx7x.
When you reach the stage that I have, all the papers have gone in to the proper authorities for the final decision it's more or less just a waiting game. Less than 1% are refused on this stage. And with that it's all ready in one fell swoop: everything needed for the SRS, new name and new social security number. All that is left is to crawl up on the operating table. (My plastic surgeon looks like a young and cuter Dr House, now if I wasn't a lesbian....) The crux of the matter is that the change of name and number wont happen until after the SRS is completed.
For me that's all good and dandy I can't get it fast enough. But what if I for some reason couldn't have the SRS, bad heart or whatever, I would still be a transwoman and in need of a new name and number. No matter that I still have a cock and not a cunt. And the situation is worse for transmen as many of them opt not to have the final genital SRS.
So even if the decision yesterday was a step forward it's still a long way to go before this old cougar is satisfied. (No, not satisfied like that! It will hopefully happen sooner.)
Oh, You're missing the usual picture of my beautiful self? Well . here's a pic taken by my dermatoligist after she had tortured me for two hours with electro needles to burn away facial hair. I asked her to take a full length one to show off my black leather skirt. But life would be rather dull if we all got what we wanted all the time. Right?
Love, hugs, kisses and muff munches till next time, your Mistress
Caisa
Today, my children, I am going to teach you about how the Swedish state decides what name I can or can not have. Irrespective of what I want to be called. As you may or may not know (Tuuli and Jessicasideways you can put down your hands, Mistress Caisa knows that you know) it have now been decided that a grown up person can make her/his decision on what to be called. It's an important, but partial, victory for us transpeople in Sweden. What the decision means is that you can add a new name to the one(s) you already have even if that new name traditionally belongs to the gender that is opposite the gender the state decided you were when you were born. So say a child at birth was determined to be of the gender girl and was subsequently name Anna Lisa. As she grow up she becomes aware that she really is a boy. With the decision yesterday it is now possible for her to add say Anders to her other names. What she can not do is change it to just Anders. Well, she can eventually, after a lengthy and complicate journey of which I will tell you shortly.
The Swedish state have always believed that it knows what's best for us. No, that's not because we've had a social democrat government for so long. It have more to do with Sweden's close ties with Prussian Germany from the midle 1800s up until the end of WW2. The strong state in our case based on the concern of the citizens well being. But, being an old anarchist I will not go deeper into those murky waters.
One of the results of this "concern" is that there are restriction on what names you can give yourself or your children. The name have to be congruent with the birth gender and it may not be of a kind that will heap shame and/or ridicule on the bearer. I believe the name most often rejected is Rullgardinia. Rullgardin is Swedish for the blinds that you, not me, pull down at night. And Rullgardinia is one of many names that our beloved Astrid Lindgren bestowed on Pippi Långstrump, maybe known to you as Pippi Longstocking. (Astrid lived three blocks from where I'm writing this) In this case I think they are right to refuse parents to name a child Rullgardinia. And it might also be a bit awkward for a boy to be named Sue.
But when an adult wants to change her/his name it's another story. If it's inappropriate for my gender or if it's ridiculous I should be able chose any damn name I want to. Yes it's a step forward that I add a name, but as a transwoman I want to change my name not to add a new. And I can, there are two alternatives. The first and more complicated and slightly costly, about 500 SEK, presupposes that you are very close to applying to the state to have your gender corrected and that the doctor that handles your case writes an affidavit that you if all goes as planned will undergo the SRS in a not to distant future. This procedure will take up to six months and you will still have yout social security number (födelsenummer) which consists of your birth date plus four more numbers the third of which denotes male or female, in my case it's 490119-xx7x.
When you reach the stage that I have, all the papers have gone in to the proper authorities for the final decision it's more or less just a waiting game. Less than 1% are refused on this stage. And with that it's all ready in one fell swoop: everything needed for the SRS, new name and new social security number. All that is left is to crawl up on the operating table. (My plastic surgeon looks like a young and cuter Dr House, now if I wasn't a lesbian....) The crux of the matter is that the change of name and number wont happen until after the SRS is completed.
For me that's all good and dandy I can't get it fast enough. But what if I for some reason couldn't have the SRS, bad heart or whatever, I would still be a transwoman and in need of a new name and number. No matter that I still have a cock and not a cunt. And the situation is worse for transmen as many of them opt not to have the final genital SRS.
So even if the decision yesterday was a step forward it's still a long way to go before this old cougar is satisfied. (No, not satisfied like that! It will hopefully happen sooner.)
Oh, You're missing the usual picture of my beautiful self? Well . here's a pic taken by my dermatoligist after she had tortured me for two hours with electro needles to burn away facial hair. I asked her to take a full length one to show off my black leather skirt. But life would be rather dull if we all got what we wanted all the time. Right?
Love, hugs, kisses and muff munches till next time, your Mistress
Caisa
September 27, 2009
This was the week that was: BDSM, New Bra and Smokestop
So let's begin with the BDSM. After all that's what's got you here in the first place. Right? ;-)
Last night, Saturday was my second visit to Club Whip, a members only BDSM and fetish club in an industrial area north of Stockholm. And sadly this old cougar didn't have a good hunt. Well, I wasn't even hunting. And I'm not really into having a scene with someone I don't know fairly well. To me BDSM is to intense and personal to share with a complete stranger. Mind you, after ten minutes or so they might not be a stranger any more. And sometimes love strikes at the most unexpected of times as I've blogged about elsewhere. There was very little actual action going on at WC last night. But just sitting back, with a drink in my hand and watching all the fetish dressed girls/women semi or fully nude made this cougar feel content in a small way. Knowing that something could happen if I wanted it to. I had an interesting talk with an Italian beauty, B, about breasts, their development and sensitivity. Not all talk, there was quite a lot of hands on on both our parts. A great feeling to have my breasts fondled and otherwise handled by another woman. When leaving around 3 am we were going to take some awesome fetish photos of ourself in the industrial area at night. Unfortunately the camera wouldn't cooperate. So I will have to verbally paint the picture of what I was wearing. Actually I have a pic of the dress/top I had on, in addition to that a black mini leather skirt (just enough to cover my but), black lace panties, black almost knee high boots. Got the picture? Good, now flood me with invitations to dates. ;-)
So, what's next? Oh, yes the bra. This week I bought my first bra that wasn't intended to use with "falsies", just my own sweet little tits. A wonderful feeling! It's a 85 B, admittedly with a bit of inbuilt padding, but still I love it. And my girl/women friends says it looks great. *quietly happy*
And the smoke stop? Last Monday I stopped smoking. It worked fine until yesterday, a bit of part smoking and having the remaining ciggies today. But as of now I'm back on the waggon.
Love, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
Last night, Saturday was my second visit to Club Whip, a members only BDSM and fetish club in an industrial area north of Stockholm. And sadly this old cougar didn't have a good hunt. Well, I wasn't even hunting. And I'm not really into having a scene with someone I don't know fairly well. To me BDSM is to intense and personal to share with a complete stranger. Mind you, after ten minutes or so they might not be a stranger any more. And sometimes love strikes at the most unexpected of times as I've blogged about elsewhere. There was very little actual action going on at WC last night. But just sitting back, with a drink in my hand and watching all the fetish dressed girls/women semi or fully nude made this cougar feel content in a small way. Knowing that something could happen if I wanted it to. I had an interesting talk with an Italian beauty, B, about breasts, their development and sensitivity. Not all talk, there was quite a lot of hands on on both our parts. A great feeling to have my breasts fondled and otherwise handled by another woman. When leaving around 3 am we were going to take some awesome fetish photos of ourself in the industrial area at night. Unfortunately the camera wouldn't cooperate. So I will have to verbally paint the picture of what I was wearing. Actually I have a pic of the dress/top I had on, in addition to that a black mini leather skirt (just enough to cover my but), black lace panties, black almost knee high boots. Got the picture? Good, now flood me with invitations to dates. ;-)So, what's next? Oh, yes the bra. This week I bought my first bra that wasn't intended to use with "falsies", just my own sweet little tits. A wonderful feeling! It's a 85 B, admittedly with a bit of inbuilt padding, but still I love it. And my girl/women friends says it looks great. *quietly happy*
And the smoke stop? Last Monday I stopped smoking. It worked fine until yesterday, a bit of part smoking and having the remaining ciggies today. But as of now I'm back on the waggon.
Love, kisses and lashes until next time
Caisa
September 24, 2009
TransCanada: Reversal of fortune
TransCanada: Reversal of fortune: "Reversal of fortune"
This says it all in way that makes it all so obvious
This says it all in way that makes it all so obvious
September 22, 2009
No Smoking!
Well, maybe if I was asked to play the part of deliciously decadent lezzie in the heydays of the cabaret in Berlin of the 20s. Then I might wear one.
Seriously, I stopped smoking today. The reasons are many, the obvious ones related to health and money. You all know about those. Add to that he fact that my plastic surgeon demands that I am smoke free before he performs my SRS. And my speech therapist wont continue our sessions until I've been without my ciggies for at least two weeks. She wants me to reach at least an octave higher. As it is there is no way any one can call my voice feminine. So to stop smoking is no longer a matter of choice. I have to do it.The operation will probably be in March or April so there I have some time yet. But the voice is something I'd like to do something about ASAP.
I started writing this on Monday and it's now Tuesday afternoon. I'm too jittery and having problem concentrating. One of the hardest thing about quitting is the habitual cigs, when you answer the phone, after a meal, after a cup of coffee...... I have the bad habit of smoking while I write, a few seconds pause to ponder a turn of phrase and I reach for a cigarette.
Trying to pass the time with soaps and movies. They say the first days are the worst. I hope so. I've tried to stop before. The last attempt was this summer with the help of Champix, I did cut down considerably but was nauseous all the time and also depressed and tired. It might have worked if I stopped not just cut down.
This time I'm stopping without crutches. No meds, gum, band aids or the like. Just the will to quit. I'm trying to convince myself that there is a genetic component in all this. My mother and my daughters all had a relatively easy time quitting so I'm hoping that goes for me too.
Until next time love and kisses
Caisa
Seriously, I stopped smoking today. The reasons are many, the obvious ones related to health and money. You all know about those. Add to that he fact that my plastic surgeon demands that I am smoke free before he performs my SRS. And my speech therapist wont continue our sessions until I've been without my ciggies for at least two weeks. She wants me to reach at least an octave higher. As it is there is no way any one can call my voice feminine. So to stop smoking is no longer a matter of choice. I have to do it.The operation will probably be in March or April so there I have some time yet. But the voice is something I'd like to do something about ASAP.
I started writing this on Monday and it's now Tuesday afternoon. I'm too jittery and having problem concentrating. One of the hardest thing about quitting is the habitual cigs, when you answer the phone, after a meal, after a cup of coffee...... I have the bad habit of smoking while I write, a few seconds pause to ponder a turn of phrase and I reach for a cigarette.
Trying to pass the time with soaps and movies. They say the first days are the worst. I hope so. I've tried to stop before. The last attempt was this summer with the help of Champix, I did cut down considerably but was nauseous all the time and also depressed and tired. It might have worked if I stopped not just cut down.
This time I'm stopping without crutches. No meds, gum, band aids or the like. Just the will to quit. I'm trying to convince myself that there is a genetic component in all this. My mother and my daughters all had a relatively easy time quitting so I'm hoping that goes for me too.
Until next time love and kisses
Caisa
September 20, 2009
Sunday Ramblings and Movie Reviews
This has turned out to be something of movie weekend for me.
A smidgeon hung over and tired after mum's 90th birthday party on Friday (more about that later) I spent most of Saturday reading and watching some soaps I'd downloaded, ending the evening with Mango Kiss.
I fell asleep before it was over. So continued this morning. Mango kiss is a flick I wouldn't recommend. Sure, the girls are cute and there are some semi hot scenes. But the whole is just too shallow and it seems based on some idea that all lesbian relationships are different kinds of role playing. It's mildly amusing and can possibly be fun at a gathering of girls with a healthy supply of wine or other suitable intoxicants. It gets 3 out of 10 for cute girls and some humor.
After that I wanted something better and found a DVD with no label, popped it in the player to check what I had. The DVD had no opening title but it seemed to be some British film. It opened with a florist at a wedding and it soon became apparent that it was in some way lesbian. After some googling on florist, British, movie and lesbian I found out that I was watching Imagine me and you. What a difference! I don't want to reveal too much of the story but it's obvious from the start that the leading roles are the florist and a newly wed bride. And as it is a British romcom it's well written with good actors and a good balance between drama and comedy. All in all a good old feel-goodie. An 8 out of 10 for acting and story.
Next came a flick break for some time on the net and to install Open Office to facilitate my translation of Kate Bornstein's Hello Cruel World into Swedish.
For my next movie of the day I had planned on Aimee and Jaguar or Journey to Kafiristan. But instead I ended up watching Normal, It tells the story of a middle aged man in a small rural town in the US. He's come to the point that he can no longer hide the fact that all his life he's felt that he is a woman. And now he decides that there is no choice, he must make the transition. What follows is a believable story of his journey. The wife's initial rage and disappointment, the harassment at the workplace and the church. The flick is not sensational nor is it too sentimental. It made me realize how fortunate I am that I was born in Sweden when I was. 8 out of 10 for good, restrained acting and an important story well told.
Which brings me back to Friday and mum's birthday. Not all relatives and acquaintances knows that I'm going through the transition so this promised to be a somewhat interesting day. The main event was to start at four pm but before that some ladies that are not so close came by for coffee and port. As one of them arrived mum said with something like pride in her voice: "And of course you know Olle who is sometime soon to become Caisa." It made me happy to hear that tone of pride and acceptance. Especially as my family isn't known to express feelings very well. What mum didn't know is that Karin and I had met several times about town and that she knew about me being Caisa.
When the rest of the gang arrived it turned out that the only ones who didn't know were my 93 year old aunt and her son, my cousin. She's nearly blind and to be honest not all there some of the time, and he's too shy and polite to ask. So there was no dramatic revelation moments.
What can be of interest to my readers is that one of my sisters in law works as a nurse at a hospital ward for children that are born premature or with other problems. We got to talking about Caster and she said that on her ward alone they get several cases each year where the gender of the new born is difficult or impossible to determine.
The point I'd like to make is that my family and acquaintances have no problem with my transition. They just accept it as a fact of life and can see that I'm much more happy, content and calm now. Of course we have our issues, some of them quite major, but none regarding gender or sexuality.
And to end today's post here are some pics from Fridays celebration:
A smidgeon hung over and tired after mum's 90th birthday party on Friday (more about that later) I spent most of Saturday reading and watching some soaps I'd downloaded, ending the evening with Mango Kiss.
I fell asleep before it was over. So continued this morning. Mango kiss is a flick I wouldn't recommend. Sure, the girls are cute and there are some semi hot scenes. But the whole is just too shallow and it seems based on some idea that all lesbian relationships are different kinds of role playing. It's mildly amusing and can possibly be fun at a gathering of girls with a healthy supply of wine or other suitable intoxicants. It gets 3 out of 10 for cute girls and some humor.
After that I wanted something better and found a DVD with no label, popped it in the player to check what I had. The DVD had no opening title but it seemed to be some British film. It opened with a florist at a wedding and it soon became apparent that it was in some way lesbian. After some googling on florist, British, movie and lesbian I found out that I was watching Imagine me and you. What a difference! I don't want to reveal too much of the story but it's obvious from the start that the leading roles are the florist and a newly wed bride. And as it is a British romcom it's well written with good actors and a good balance between drama and comedy. All in all a good old feel-goodie. An 8 out of 10 for acting and story.
Next came a flick break for some time on the net and to install Open Office to facilitate my translation of Kate Bornstein's Hello Cruel World into Swedish.
For my next movie of the day I had planned on Aimee and Jaguar or Journey to Kafiristan. But instead I ended up watching Normal, It tells the story of a middle aged man in a small rural town in the US. He's come to the point that he can no longer hide the fact that all his life he's felt that he is a woman. And now he decides that there is no choice, he must make the transition. What follows is a believable story of his journey. The wife's initial rage and disappointment, the harassment at the workplace and the church. The flick is not sensational nor is it too sentimental. It made me realize how fortunate I am that I was born in Sweden when I was. 8 out of 10 for good, restrained acting and an important story well told.
Which brings me back to Friday and mum's birthday. Not all relatives and acquaintances knows that I'm going through the transition so this promised to be a somewhat interesting day. The main event was to start at four pm but before that some ladies that are not so close came by for coffee and port. As one of them arrived mum said with something like pride in her voice: "And of course you know Olle who is sometime soon to become Caisa." It made me happy to hear that tone of pride and acceptance. Especially as my family isn't known to express feelings very well. What mum didn't know is that Karin and I had met several times about town and that she knew about me being Caisa.
When the rest of the gang arrived it turned out that the only ones who didn't know were my 93 year old aunt and her son, my cousin. She's nearly blind and to be honest not all there some of the time, and he's too shy and polite to ask. So there was no dramatic revelation moments.
What can be of interest to my readers is that one of my sisters in law works as a nurse at a hospital ward for children that are born premature or with other problems. We got to talking about Caster and she said that on her ward alone they get several cases each year where the gender of the new born is difficult or impossible to determine.
The point I'd like to make is that my family and acquaintances have no problem with my transition. They just accept it as a fact of life and can see that I'm much more happy, content and calm now. Of course we have our issues, some of them quite major, but none regarding gender or sexuality.
And to end today's post here are some pics from Fridays celebration:
Mum
My oldest daughter
My youngest and her husband
Mum and dad
Me and the mother of my daughters
Until next time love and kisses
Caisa
September 19, 2009
Repost of "Why Us Old Cougars Know More" in piratespeak
I bloged about this theme on me Swedish blog http://caisa.livejournal.com an' be asked t' write somethin' similar in English. Ahoy Christina!
Oh, BTW, th' jacket I wear on this pic, taken today, be th' one mentioned in me previous blog. Th' one me mother made way aft when.
So gather around children an' harken as I tell ye about how 't be in th' olden days, aft in th' sixties. I live in a country way up North called Sweden an' at that time in a town called Gothenburg. We had nay mp3 players an' nay computers. Th' net be somethin' th' US military had jus' started playin' wi'. What we had be record players, radio an' TV t' satisfy our cravin' fer music. Th' TV had only one channel an' if we be lucky they showed a program called Oppopoppa once a moon. Th' records be quite expensive an' we could only afford singles. Th' latest singles be only available in two stores in th' city. Which leaves us wi' th' radio. Th' state had a monopoly on broadcastin' (which later on led me t' be a part o' th' portwing/anarchist swashbuckler radio "Radio 88" but that`s another story that I might come aft t' some tide. An' they be kind enough t' play pop/rock fer a whole hour ever' tides tide, an' thar be th' top list "Tio i topp" fer an hour on Saturdays.
An' then thar be Radio Luxemburg. We gathered in th' evenings in spots that usually be good fer recivin'. Providin' someone ha managed t' sneak a transistor radio ou' o' th' house. Th' quality o' th' sound be rather poor, but they be playin' th' very latest from England.
So t' hear th' music we wanted we had t' listen t' all sorts o' music that be played on th' radio. 't could be anythin', but mostly 't be Swedish an' English popular music from th' twenties t' th' fifties. Some light jazz, operettas, an' classical music be also heard now an' ag'in. An', aye, we hated this wi' a wannion.
But as I talk music wi' young swabbies today I reckon that 't had gi'en me a groundin' in musical history an' different genres o' music. A groundin' that came without me e'en tryin' or e'en wantin' t' learn.
Today, wi' chestfulls o' stations t' chose from, on th' air an' on th' net, Ye can opt fer jus' listen t' th' kind o' music ye already like. Thus missin' ou' on somethin' ye might like.
Dasn't misunderstand me. I dasn't want th' bad old days aft. Th' fantastic availability o' music be a good thin' (TM). But, an' this might be illegal 'ere ye live, download a wee torrents wi' music ye dasn't usually listen t'. Or, better yet, get an account wi' a usenet ser'er an' look around th' alt.binary.music an' download anythin' that might interest ye. Ye might be surprised! I found some rare queer blues recordings from th' twenties an' thirties.
Wi' love an' kisses till next time.
Caisa
September 17, 2009
Music and Emotions. Occasioned by the death of Mary Travers
This morning the tears have flowed freely near Observatoriekullen in Stockholm.
I woke up in an unusual good mood, considering I still have a lot to fix in my flat before I can let anyone in.
The death of Mary Travers was bit of a shock. I haven't followed her carrier lately. In fact most of my memories relate to the 60's. For a kid entering puberty and teen hood Peter Paul and Mary meant a lot as an introduction to folk and protest music. I'd rate them along Joan Baez, Dylan and Buffy St Marie in that respect. Mary's voice was wonderful, not to mention that to a fifteen year old see looked like an angel come down to us mortals. As I've mentioned earlier we had difficulties finding the music in stores or hear it on the radio. And when some one had a record we'd play it till it was mostly scratches.
I was saddened by Mary's death but the waterfall hadn't started yet. Many people have mentioned that they cried when hearing Puff the Magic Dragon. over at the blog Joe. My God there is a post about what music makes you cry. I was going to make a comment about my number one tear inducer: "Jag vill leva i Europa" by Jan Hammarlund. Every time I hear it the tears starts flowing. But I refrained from writing anything. How could I, in a short comment describe what the song is about and why it makes me cry? So I tried to find an English version and ended up mailing Jan to ask if he had an English version. Then I made the mistake of looking it up on YouTube. And sure enough the tears started flowing. Then I headed over to blip. At first i tried to find something in English by Jan and found a few. The tears had dried up when i blipped for Peter Paul and Mary. For those of you not familiar with blip they also show a video when available. A few seconds into Leaving on a Jet Plane I started to really cry. Not just a trickle of tears but a river and loud sobbing.
So what is it with certain songs that moves us so? In the case of Mary it's not so hard to explain. A sadness over a great artist that meant so much to so many passing away combined with nostalgic feelings of when I listened to her way back when.
Ever since I started hormones I cry more easily. But when it comes to Jag vill leva i Europa I can't blame them. It has had me in tears for years. And I can't really explain why. It's some combination of Jan's voice, the theme of the song and the way he put the music and the words together.
Other songs that sometimes makes my eyes water are: The Fields of Athenrye, Mary and Me, Just an Ordinary Sunday and songs about martyrs in the class strugle like Sacco and Vanzetti or the heroes of the Spanish revolution.
But other songs that sometimes make me cry I don't even like. It can be a sentimental love song or something that evokes memories.
So what opens up my tear ducts is a combination of the music, the lyrics, the theme and my current mood. Today I think I'm susceptible to most everything.
What music makes your eyes water?
Until next time hugs and kisses from
Caisa
I woke up in an unusual good mood, considering I still have a lot to fix in my flat before I can let anyone in.
The death of Mary Travers was bit of a shock. I haven't followed her carrier lately. In fact most of my memories relate to the 60's. For a kid entering puberty and teen hood Peter Paul and Mary meant a lot as an introduction to folk and protest music. I'd rate them along Joan Baez, Dylan and Buffy St Marie in that respect. Mary's voice was wonderful, not to mention that to a fifteen year old see looked like an angel come down to us mortals. As I've mentioned earlier we had difficulties finding the music in stores or hear it on the radio. And when some one had a record we'd play it till it was mostly scratches.
I was saddened by Mary's death but the waterfall hadn't started yet. Many people have mentioned that they cried when hearing Puff the Magic Dragon. over at the blog Joe. My God there is a post about what music makes you cry. I was going to make a comment about my number one tear inducer: "Jag vill leva i Europa" by Jan Hammarlund. Every time I hear it the tears starts flowing. But I refrained from writing anything. How could I, in a short comment describe what the song is about and why it makes me cry? So I tried to find an English version and ended up mailing Jan to ask if he had an English version. Then I made the mistake of looking it up on YouTube. And sure enough the tears started flowing. Then I headed over to blip. At first i tried to find something in English by Jan and found a few. The tears had dried up when i blipped for Peter Paul and Mary. For those of you not familiar with blip they also show a video when available. A few seconds into Leaving on a Jet Plane I started to really cry. Not just a trickle of tears but a river and loud sobbing.
So what is it with certain songs that moves us so? In the case of Mary it's not so hard to explain. A sadness over a great artist that meant so much to so many passing away combined with nostalgic feelings of when I listened to her way back when.
Ever since I started hormones I cry more easily. But when it comes to Jag vill leva i Europa I can't blame them. It has had me in tears for years. And I can't really explain why. It's some combination of Jan's voice, the theme of the song and the way he put the music and the words together.
Other songs that sometimes makes my eyes water are: The Fields of Athenrye, Mary and Me, Just an Ordinary Sunday and songs about martyrs in the class strugle like Sacco and Vanzetti or the heroes of the Spanish revolution.
But other songs that sometimes make me cry I don't even like. It can be a sentimental love song or something that evokes memories.
So what opens up my tear ducts is a combination of the music, the lyrics, the theme and my current mood. Today I think I'm susceptible to most everything.
What music makes your eyes water?
Until next time hugs and kisses from
Caisa
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