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The (mis)adventures of a thoroughly modern trans woman.
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Got this blog, may as well write something, right?
Okay, then, here goes.
51 year old trans woman, lesbian, musician, culinarian, and writer.
With that all out of the way, let's get to the real content.
I never thought I would find my perfect partner in crime, my lover, my best friend, confidant and love of my life, but this year, what the Chinese calendar I would assume call “The Year Of The Dumpster Fire,” love found me.
This past Sunday, the 8th of November, Mira Farrow and I got married in a little private ceremony in our front yard, by our landlord Mickey, with two witnesses.
I'm still honestly in a fair bit of a pleasant shock about all this, as I can honestly tell you, I never thought I would be here, today, telling you all of this.
In fact, I assumed that I would have spent my life in solitary confinement of my own design, but Mira had other plans.
I do not know what the future brings, and, as I write this, my dear wife is in bed sleeping in, while I futilely attempt to make sense of the madness seemingly overtaking much of organized, “polite” society.
Right wing militias, Democratic Congress people wanting to compile enemies lists, President Wild ID refusing to concede the election, but, in the immortal words of Perry Farrell, “I just want to fuck!”