It’s after 6:00 on a Saturday morning as I write this. Yeah, I agree it’s an ungodly hour for the average person, but I have two excuses: First, I have a busy weekend of volunteering ahead of me, especially today, as my do-gooding necessitates me going out of town. Secondly, I want to type up something about this awesome dream I had last night while I still remember it…
Okay, here’s what I remember (and this is an actual dream I had last night): I was on an out-of-town trip (how ironic since I’m going out-of-town today?), and I had no plans to meet up with anyone or do much anything. You’re probably wondering, “Did Allison tag along?” Well, sort of. I brought only a couple small articles from Allison’s wardrobe to just try on inside the hotel room and feel all girly. So, yeah, this trip felt more of an excuse to just get out of town for a while and not to specifically do things en femme.
So, here I am in this dream in my motel room (it’s an affordable and immaculate motel in a decent neighborhood, mind you), and I’m trying on my dress just for the heck of it, when suddenly… I hear a knock on my door. And, no, I wasn’t expecting anyone to visit me on my trip. I look through the peephole and I see two female figures standing there; they were dressed to the nines (wonderful dresses, too) and had a look of puzzlement on their faces, wondering if they were at the right motel, let alone knocking on the correct room door. For a second, I didn’t want to answer, but something in me motivated me to open the door. So, clad in a yellow dress and nothing else, I opened the door, and when they saw me, the looks on the faces of the female figures in front of me changed from bewilderment and confusion to one of “well, you’re not the person we were looking for, but you are indeed the type of person we were wondering about.”
I describe them as “female figures” because they were actually crossdressers like me: Male in biology but female in appearance. And while in this dream they were not looking for me specifically (“Gee, I guess we did have the wrong room”), they still talked me up. “You know, you do look as if you’d be interested in getting together with us,” they told me. And they offered me information on a CD/TG get-together they were going to that very afternoon. “Don’t worry if you’re not decent when arriving,” they told me; “the wardrobe will be big enough for you.”
As I thanked them for the information and they walked away, I was debating in my mind whether I should attend or not. This party does sound interesting, I wondered to myself, but I was hoping for some “me” time, for some solitude. That’s when I turned on the TV, and a news report came on about some gigantic sinkhole opening up at a beach somewhere. But when I noticed the location of the incident, I realized that was the town I was in, and that was the beach I was going to that afternoon. Like a gawker I try not to be, I went over to the beach in question, and sure enough, nobody was being let in past the police tape.
So, I went back to my hotel room wondering, well, that sinkhole ruined my weekend; what should I do now? And that’s when I went back to the party offer those well-dressed ladies made to me. Suddenly, it dawned upon me: That sink hole at the beach was less an unfortunate incident and more of an epiphany. Yes, I should be dressing up this weekend, lack of clothing and preparedness be dammed. So, after stopping off at the nearest department store (or was it a pharmacy?) to buy new pairs of pantyhose and women’s undergarments, it was off to the party. Yes, those ladies who were at my motel door gave me directions. As I entered the dress-up party, it was a wonderful sight: Rows of wigs; racks of clothing; tables of makeup; lots of mirrors to admire ourselves in; cameras at the ready for our glamour shots; supportive people everywhere, not just faux girls like me but “GGs” (genetic girls, if you’re unfamiliar with the term) who were welcoming everyone with open arms and friendly smiles. I had just put on an outfit from the rack, selected a wig, and was in the process of getting dolled up in the makeup chair when… I woke up.
Yeah, it was a dream. Bummer. But it was an awesome dream just the same. Maybe that whole dream, and not just that one scene at the beach, was an epiphany for me. One day I hope to have an awesome dress-up and glamour photo session just like that or close to it. And when I do, I know it’ll be more than a dream and more than reality… it’ll be a chance for Allison to really shine.