Allison M.

A crossdresser's thoughts on life, fashion, fabulousness, and, um… oh, that's right, dressing up!


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Gifts of affirmation… from mothers to children

Three days ago on Mother’s Day, I posted thoughts on what a person loses when the mothers in their lives… uh, leave this mortal coil.  Yeah, I admit it was a downer of a post on a day set aside for children of all ages to put their mothers and mother figures on pedestals.

But what about the other way around?  No, not the depressing thoughts, but parents putting their kids on the pedestals.  If you haven’t noticed by now (and, really you should have by now), short-sighted state legislators, in their yearning to get in the good graces of those who voted for him — are proposing, enacting, or signing into law measures that are direct attacks on the LGBT+ community.  These include preventing schools from teaching LGBT curricula; barring trans kids from obtaining necessary affirming medical care; and, under the guise of upholding cis-gender women’s dignity, preventing trans athletes from competing in sporting events or on teams associated with the gender they identify as.

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A few items from Allison’s Mom’s kitchen

[*1950s housewife voice*] “Watch, kids, as I will prepare this egregiously gigantic bird for Sunday dinner, in my assiduous effort to help America defeat the evil scourge of communism.” (Photo credit: H. Armstrong Roberts/ClassicStock/Getty Images via The Takeout)

Okay, I admit that last post was not the pick-me-up we all need during this still-very-concerning time.  But at least I did find something humorous that seems to perfectly dovetail with this Mother’s Day.  I came across the above photo of that creepily clean-cut family manhandling “Birdzilla” on The Takeout website (“Food is delicious.”), where it accompanied this feature in which some of the site’s staffers were asked this question:  “What foods spring to mind when you think of your mother?”

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The hands that rocked the cradle

I must give you a **TRIGGER WARNING** to start off:  This post will deal with the topic of death and grief, undoubtedly hard stuff when it comes to Mother’s Day.  If you’d rather hit the back button from this post, I don’t blame you for doing so.  And if you are grieving on what’s meant to be a happy day, I sincerely offer you my deepest condolences.

A couple of weekends ago, I drove outside Madison to attend my family’s annual on-or-around-Easter get-together and luncheon.  More than the food we ate, the rainy weather we encountered, or the talk about all that’s going on in our lives, one thing I will fondly recall of that day was the mood everyone who was there appeared to be in.  We were all happy to see each other, we were all optimistic about things, we were all… healthy.

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Allison survives Round Two

The early part of April, I rolled up my sleeve and received the first dose of the coronavirus vaccine.  If you didn’t read or don’t recall my recap, here’s the basic skinny:  Yes, the shot hurt like heck.  Yes, its side effects were relatively mild (just a headache, maybe a little bit of fatigue).  And, yes, I knew it was just one step in assuring safety, once and for all, from this godforsaken virus… though not the last step, of course, since I’m still wearing masks when venturing out, I’m still keeping a 6-foot distance from others… and I still needed to get a second dose of the vaccine.

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The whole wardrobe?

While I recover from my second coronavirus vaccine (a topic I hope to get into on here in the next week), I want to share some thoughts about a dream I had the other night.  And from what I recall of it, I was in a bit of a panic…

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Over it… definitely

It’s nice to think about it, maybe even visit
But I wonder, could I live there anymore?
Charley Pride

Now that you’ve read about how I spent last Sunday (“A really exciting topic”… said Allison, sarcastically), let me tell you about last Saturday.  That was when I got in my car, made the long trip to far Northeast Wisconsin, and got to be with my family for the first time since Christmas.  Every spring, on or around Easter weekend, my youngest sister and her husband invite the immediate family to her place for a semi-informal sit-down dinner of ham, potatoes (the cheesy kind), watching viral videos on the big-screen TV in the den (well, the kids do that), and lots and lots of catching up.

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Allison Discretion Advised (or How I Got Lured Out of the House and Into Watching Bad TV)

This post and the one I will publish next will both deal with the realm of television.  Initially, I had planned to lump both into one big post.  But the story in this space is so juicy tawdry lengthy that I don’t want to overshadow the thoughts I will include in the next post… especially since they’ll be about crossdressing on television.  But, oh, do I have a “buyer beware” type of story to tell here.

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Allison survives Round One

** DING!  DING!  DING!! **

“Ladies and Gentlemen!  Pfizer, BioNTech, and your local pharmacies and health care providers present… TWO ROUNDS of BOXING in the who-gives-a-hoot-about-your-weight division!  This bout is sanctioned by the Food and Drug Administration and the Wisconsin Department of Health Services! Continue reading


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Thoughts on the moments when I knew things were about to change

The night of February 28, 2020 felt like a usual Friday evening for me.  It was the end of a busy work day and relatively busy work week at the company I was assigned to work at.  It was only a week earlier that I interviewed with the company I work at now.  That night, I dressed up, attended a CD/TG support group meeting, talked about my expecting a job offer that next week, and gave my best friend a big hug.

Little did I know that it would be the last time I would attend a group meeting in the flesh.

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A signature move

I’ll start off this post with a quick professional update:  This past week, for the first time since formally joining The New Place eight months ago, I was moved under the watch of a new supervisor.  Nothing too frightening, earth-shattering, or akin to rearranging deck chairs on a sinking ship.  It was just the addition of a third supervisor in our department, the balancing out of employee-to-supervisor volume… and my now reporting to someone who previously did not have the responsibility of managing my workload or determining how much of a raise I’ll see in my paycheck.

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