Vodka
One of my favorite quotes by Homer Simpson: "Alcohol. The cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems."
Alcohol seems to be inextricably linked with my tranny lifestyle. It's a necessary evil at social gatherings, freeing inhibitions all round. I'm more able to talk to others, and other people seem to find it a lot easier to talk to me. It's sometimes surprising to remember that as a tranny I'm a completely unknown and scary quantity to many people. It normally takes them a couple of drinks to come over and say how they've wanted to talk to me all evening, how groovy they are with the whole dressing up as a woman thing, and just how incredibly great I am. I love being told how incredibly great I am!
The downside to the demon drink is a short while after it's sparkled it's fairy dust over the evening, it begins it's work guaranteeing that you won't remember the evening, and the parts that you do remember you'll wish you hadn't. Plus the whole "morning after" thing which everyone knows about.
This weekend I went to a barbecue. The occasion was 3 people's birthdays: my good friend Jessica, and Sophie's neighbours Claire and Andy. It was a large crowd, with a major "non-tranny" contingent.
I think I mentioned last week that I hadn't decided whether to dress as Becky or not, but I took the stuff to Sophie's just in case. In the end external pressures decided for me, several people seemed to want Becky there. Shannon didn't want to be the only tranny (apart from Sophie) present. Claire's parents had loved partying with the trannies at New Year's, and were expecting some kind of repeat performance. Several others had been warned of the presence of trannies, so the general vibe was that it would be a general disappointment if Becky didn't turn up.
The evening started with a fair division of labour. It looked like rain so the men were given the job of erecting the awning over the BBQ, whilst the girlies laid out food, and the girly-boys untangled the fairy lights.
Vodka arrived. Around 5 litres of the stuff. Plus beer and wine. I had a Vodka and cranberry to calm my nerves whilst trying to get the knots out of the fairy lights. It was very nice. Then the first of the burgers were ready, time for more drinks and a bit of mingling.
I remember a while later noticing I was incredibly drunk and it was still light outside. Everyone else seemed to be impressively drunk too.
Midnight had barely passed, and the party was all over. People were crashing on sofas and spare beds, exhausted. It seemed an oddly compressed affair, as if the party had burned too hot and then burnt out.
I need to tinker with my alcohol intake. I'm sure there's a level where I'll have fun and still be able to remember it. The trouble is, I think, that level of drunkenness is also the level where I start thinking one more drink can't hurt!
The gang at the barbeque, before it all got too drunken.
Alcohol seems to be inextricably linked with my tranny lifestyle. It's a necessary evil at social gatherings, freeing inhibitions all round. I'm more able to talk to others, and other people seem to find it a lot easier to talk to me. It's sometimes surprising to remember that as a tranny I'm a completely unknown and scary quantity to many people. It normally takes them a couple of drinks to come over and say how they've wanted to talk to me all evening, how groovy they are with the whole dressing up as a woman thing, and just how incredibly great I am. I love being told how incredibly great I am!
The downside to the demon drink is a short while after it's sparkled it's fairy dust over the evening, it begins it's work guaranteeing that you won't remember the evening, and the parts that you do remember you'll wish you hadn't. Plus the whole "morning after" thing which everyone knows about.
This weekend I went to a barbecue. The occasion was 3 people's birthdays: my good friend Jessica, and Sophie's neighbours Claire and Andy. It was a large crowd, with a major "non-tranny" contingent.
I think I mentioned last week that I hadn't decided whether to dress as Becky or not, but I took the stuff to Sophie's just in case. In the end external pressures decided for me, several people seemed to want Becky there. Shannon didn't want to be the only tranny (apart from Sophie) present. Claire's parents had loved partying with the trannies at New Year's, and were expecting some kind of repeat performance. Several others had been warned of the presence of trannies, so the general vibe was that it would be a general disappointment if Becky didn't turn up.
The evening started with a fair division of labour. It looked like rain so the men were given the job of erecting the awning over the BBQ, whilst the girlies laid out food, and the girly-boys untangled the fairy lights.
Vodka arrived. Around 5 litres of the stuff. Plus beer and wine. I had a Vodka and cranberry to calm my nerves whilst trying to get the knots out of the fairy lights. It was very nice. Then the first of the burgers were ready, time for more drinks and a bit of mingling.
I remember a while later noticing I was incredibly drunk and it was still light outside. Everyone else seemed to be impressively drunk too.
Midnight had barely passed, and the party was all over. People were crashing on sofas and spare beds, exhausted. It seemed an oddly compressed affair, as if the party had burned too hot and then burnt out.
I need to tinker with my alcohol intake. I'm sure there's a level where I'll have fun and still be able to remember it. The trouble is, I think, that level of drunkenness is also the level where I start thinking one more drink can't hurt!
The gang at the barbeque, before it all got too drunken.
Have to agree with you here:
a) I love being told Im great too! :)
b) and getting that balance when out drinking seems to be much harder than it should be when out as a girl.
For me the scary thing though, is that drunken women can look a bit sad, but drunken trannies always look bloody awful. The more you drink, the more the illusion just falls apart around you.
Well, practice makes perfect I guess!
:-p
No, wait a minute, that's a waldorf salad. Well, I'll just take a G&T then, please.
Do you have any nuts?
The party was fab, wasn't it? I think the trick is to EAT something while you are dousing your body with alcohol. I am glad that Becky showed up as well as Shannon and Sophie. You girls are really ''you'' when you let the dogs out so to speak and dress to kill. My best friend in America - Michelle has a husband who is a tranny and she happened to call me when I got home from the party. She was so jealous and was amazed that despite drinking and eating all night, I was able to come up with her recipe for BBQ marinated prawns in two seconds flat - a miracle since I have two billion recipes and by all rights I should have been totally wasted. I did eat quite a bit all through the night. Food and alcohol = good. Alcohol and no food = bad.
XXXX
Debs
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