Observations from Dressing in Drag for Halloween

I published an article to Medium and on my Facebook page about the three times I dressed in drag for Halloween.

You can read it this link, free access to anyone who wants to read. 

tldr

• Women interact with you differently when you are in drag. 
• It was fun being someone I was not. 
• Women work hard at being beautiful. 
• Compliments are always welcome. 
• Nothing is too weird, especially on Halloween.
• No one is truly normal. 
• Everyone is different, and it is our differences that make us interesting and unique.

If there is something you want to do but worry about what other people would think or you think “No way I can do that,” do it any way. You might be surprised that doing something out of the ordinary for you is very ordinary and fun.

An Experiment

 I admire and respect wordsmiths – songwriters, authors, essayists, poets, columnists, playwrights, raconteurs, storytellers – anyone who uses words to express and share their experiences and emotions.

Writing anything longer than a quip or brief anecdote is difficult for me. For example, drafting this brief post took me over 10 hours.

One factor is my ADD. Whenever I try to write about something, my mind races in fifty directions. I can craft a well-structured draft in my head quickly. When it comes time to put it on paper or screen, all hell breaks loose. New ideas, some complimentary many unrelated, pop up. I start editing even before I write the thought. Somewhere there is a dam between my mind and my hands that blocks 90% of the words I want to write.

It was easier for me to write before laptop computers and the Internet. I would find a quiet room with a big table, spread out my notes, turn on some music, and write. Pretty straight forward. The books on the wall in the library didn’t distract me. If I really wanted to focus, I would go to a library where I didn’t know anyone. The Fondren Library at Rice University and the Architecture and Planning Library in Battle Hall at the University of Texas.

To write, I need a purpose and an audience. Once I reach a level of emotional charge that I must share with someone, words will flow freely from me onto the page. Often, the emotion I need to write is anger, disappointment, or frustration. I want to broaden that inspiration to write to include more positive emotions.

Though I enjoyed writing when I was younger, I never kept a journal. Difficult for me to share my inner thoughts, even with myself. Placing those feelings on paper made them more tangible. I have tried journaling, but without much luck. Whatever I write is an incoherent cluster of words. Typically, nothing longer than a three-word phrase. If you ever read my journal, you will question how I graduated high school.

I am not comfortable being vulnerable. I am a private person, raised in southern stoicism. Limited physical displays of affection, rare compliments, no tears, no loud laughter or anything that could draw attention to yourself. For those who follow astrology, I am a classic Cancer.

I am undertaking a radical experiment. One which terrifies me. Over the next few months, I will be posting more detailed thoughts on Facebook. Not because I am a narcissist (of course, that is what a narcissist would say) nor to be brave. But to find myself, free many of the thoughts trapped in my mind, and to exercise an efficient and effective writing style. Some topics will be personal, others will be about things that interest me. There may be a poem.

Let me know any topics or subjects you would like for me to write about. When I do post something, I will appreciate your comments and feedback. If there is anything you would rather share privately than in the comments, DM me.

Thanks, and hugs to you all.

Bullying

Bullying. The toxic culture that has developed over the past decade has caused me to think deeply about the subject recently.

I was bullied often while growing up. Most was verbal, some intimidation, very little physical violence. Over fifty years later, I remember my bullies’ names and have a visceral response of fear and hatred when I think of them.

I have also been a bully. Primarily teasing which crossed the line to cruelty. Looking back on when I have bullied people, I am disappointed in myself. I know I am a better person than that. As my wife often tells me she “didn’t marry an asshole.” There are times when she is wrong.

I hope those who were the subject of my bullying will forgive me. Ironic, since I cannot find it in my heart to forgive my bullies. Let me know how I hurt you and I will do all I can to make amends. Know that I am truly sorry for being mean to you.

I post this not to seek affirmation or absolution, but to ask for your help. When you see me write or say something mean-spirited, publicly call me out. Let me know you expect better of me. With your help, I hope to become a better person. Thank you.