tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61000962929580885952024-03-13T12:20:23.827-04:00Sparkle, the Blog for ALGsA blog site for "Adult Little Girls".Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-43974505962485171892018-08-29T16:03:00.002-04:002018-08-29T16:03:13.277-04:00It's Been a Long Time!And that's an understatement. It's been a VERY long time since I updated this blog.<br /><br />So I thought I would remind you all where to look now.<br /><br />I have another blog here: <a href="https://kitasparkles.wordpress.com/">https://kitasparkles.wordpress.com</a><br />BUT! All my newest stuff, including exclusive content and stories, is found here:<br /><a href="https://www.patreon.com/kitasparkles">https://www.patreon.com/kitasparkles</a><br /><br /><br />Happy catching up to all! Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-39663526519476187942013-06-20T00:52:00.003-04:002013-06-20T00:52:58.971-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-76620355392782263892013-05-24T11:20:00.002-04:002013-05-24T11:20:41.934-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-24582262644594791592013-05-21T20:51:00.003-04:002013-05-21T20:51:58.604-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-32412347503562885822012-12-07T23:46:00.000-05:002012-12-07T23:46:13.693-05:00Video for you<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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One of my favorite Christmas videos ever. I think you'll see why. </div>
Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-38185417863192623202012-09-27T00:43:00.002-04:002012-09-27T00:48:36.904-04:00Bill's New Frock<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I remember this kids book being passed off as though it was some sort of TG indoctrination, but I just don't see that at all watching the dramatization of it here. I found this while searching for a film short I saw several years ago that I believe was based on the same thing, only that version was far different, a a lot darker than this. I'll keep looking for that one, but until then you may enjoy this presentation of "Bill's New Frock". (Make sure you have some time - with all three parts it is about 30 minutes.)<br />
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Sorry that embedding is disabled! Here are the links:<br />
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Part 1: <a href="http://youtu.be/cA7_Qap_M9U">http://youtu.be/cA7_Qap_M9U</a><br />
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Part 2: <a href="http://youtu.be/1Hka-sVfQ-4">http://youtu.be/1Hka-sVfQ-4</a><br />
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Part 3: <a href="http://youtu.be/eKyUYWBJHZw">http://youtu.be/eKyUYWBJHZw</a><br />
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I can think of a WAYYYY better ending, but y'all can prolly guess it. :: Giggle ::</div>
Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-59895676867960506732012-08-14T18:39:00.001-04:002012-08-14T18:39:14.162-04:00Gymnastics GameIn the spirit of the Olympics, and the realization that now that they are over, we've got no gymnastics to watch anymore..... here is a fun little game I happened to find! :-) It should load up right in the blog page for you! Have fun!
<object style="width:640px;height:512px" data="http://static.funnygames.biz/games/embed.swf" id="tws_ef_5639" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,40,0"><param value="http://static.funnygames.biz/games/embed.swf" name="movie"><param value="always" name="allowScriptAccess"><param value="g=5639&n=love_to_jump&s=110&t=syi" name="flashvars"></object><div id="tws_embed_footer"><a href="http://www.funnygames.biz/">Play more games on FunnyGames!</a></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-26024599259577879592012-07-13T01:17:00.002-04:002012-07-13T01:17:48.122-04:00Hello Kitty Living!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Remember my post about the San Diego Chargers football player who drives a little Hello Kitty car? It's here if you've forgotten: <a href="http://girlsparkle.blogspot.com/2011/10/now-thats-smart-car.html">http://girlsparkle.blogspot.com/2011/10/now-thats-smart-car.html</a><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">Well, this defies even that. Here we have a Hello Kitty HOUSE! It's in Shanghai.</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.random-good-stuff.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/hellokittyhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.random-good-stuff.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/hellokittyhouse.jpg" /></a></div>
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And the interior has as much a Hello Kitty theme as the exterior:</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--wYRqiD15oY/TpGcizSkbKI/AAAAAAAAAaM/nxFNc8gTacU/s400/hello-kitty-pantry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="249" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--wYRqiD15oY/TpGcizSkbKI/AAAAAAAAAaM/nxFNc8gTacU/s320/hello-kitty-pantry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From this picture, it appears there are two:</div>
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So, like I said - this is in Shanghai (do I gots any Shanghai readers out there?? Maybe I do now...). I dunno if I'll ever get there, but I hear there is now one being built in Connecticut by some really rich person. Has Hello Kitty appliances and everything!<br /></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-60872832238359683192012-07-06T21:47:00.000-04:002012-07-06T21:47:01.931-04:00"Praying Away The Gay...."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white;">Initially</span>, I was just in horror and shock at what I heard in this video I happened to find this morning. I wasn't looking for it, I was looking at something else and this one came up on the preview sidebar ... you know how that is, when you see another video you want to watch and then another, and suddenly you've been watching random videos for an hour and can't remember how you ended up on Youtube in the first place? Anyway it was posted over a year ago, so I guess this is old news. Interesting I noticed the news guy appears to be that one who recently caused a stir by saying he is gay. I just kinda thought, "....and?"<br />
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It took awhile to digest it all and pull a few points together I want to make. I'd like to say them before posting the video, so it shows below.<br /><br />1. Most people know I think gay sex is wrong. I also think any sex outside of marriage is wrong. I also think divorce, getting drunk, telling lies, and a lot of other things are wrong. None are any worse than any other. I don't think I am any better than a person who engages in homosexual behavior, because sometimes I lose my temper, and that's wrong too.<br />
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2. Some people ask me, if I think homosexual acts are wrong, how can I dress up like a little girl (or, in some cases, a baby)? I wear diapers, yet I have the nerve to say homosexual acts are wrong? Well, frankly ... yes. Yes, I do. That's because I live by the New Testament of the Bible, and in Romans it pretty clearly marks homosexual acts as being sinful. That said, I'm pretty sure God is more interested in bigger things than whether I wear pants or a dress, or briefs, boxers, panties, or diapers!<br />
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3. This is where the video really comes in. Feminine does NOT mean gay! I am feminine - I love to have long hair, put it in pigtails, wear ribbons, lace, the color purple, dresses, skirts, paint my nails, and play with dollies. At the same time, I can utterly assure you that I am straight. I am a sexual being as well as being a "Little Girl", and the sexual part of me is male and prefers women. Anybody who has been at a few LG Camps with me has seen that I had every opportunity with more than one suitor to see if I was homosexual or not. :: Giggle :: I'm not.<br />
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4. I think these "pray away the gay" campaigns are ridiculous. They make people think that if they pray hard enough, if they wait upon the Lord, they will be "healed". I don't think so. You might have to struggle with that all your life. It's horrible, I agree. But I believe a person can possibly be born gay, just as I believe I was born straight, and maybe that can't be changed. It doesn't make it right to go out and have gay sex. I told you - I am straight, but you know - I haven't fulfilled the requirements for heterosexual sex either - so I have not had it. I'm a virgin.<br />
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5. I think the treatment the two men seen in the video experienced should be criminal. I do believe the doctors involved were TRYING to help. But it should have been obvious that irreparable harm was being done to the little boy. You know, he ...or she ... looked very happy in the picture wearing a pink dress. His mother said the spanking he got once from his father would be abuse today..... well guess what, lady? It was abuse THEN, TOO!<br /><br />6. If you are gay, that doesn't mean we can't be friends. I don't screen my friends by their sexual preferences. I won't attempt to save you nor will I argue or badger you about your lifestyle. If you ASK me, I'll tell you what I think. And I might write what I think on things that belong to me, like this blog.<br />
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Now, the video:<br />
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Part 1:</div>
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Part 2</div>
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Part 3</div>
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<br /></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-76654348587884626782012-05-26T19:19:00.000-04:002012-05-26T19:19:53.022-04:00School Complains About Cute Hair<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It seems a bit strange to me that this "strict dress code" they claim to have at this school allows those fancy shoes, short dress, leopard skin print accents ..... and they complain about the cute hair style??<br /><br /><a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/little-girls-big-bow-banned-4-old-hairstyle-220000255.html">http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/little-girls-big-bow-banned-4-old-hairstyle-220000255.html</a><br /><br />The style inspired me. Now I wanna do that. Pictures to follow when I do something similar in my hair!<br />
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<a href="http://l3.yimg.com/bt/api/res/1.2/hE7JJrZ3dvLL5a6WKYKQvg--/YXBwaWQ9eW5ld3M7cT04NTt3PTMxMA--/http://media.zenfs.com/en-US/blogs/partner/470_2374574.0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://l3.yimg.com/bt/api/res/1.2/hE7JJrZ3dvLL5a6WKYKQvg--/YXBwaWQ9eW5ld3M7cT04NTt3PTMxMA--/http://media.zenfs.com/en-US/blogs/partner/470_2374574.0" width="189" /></a></div>
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Marcella wouldn't have had this picture in the Yearbook anyway, since the picture day was rescheduled (THAT had to tick off a lot of parents!) So ..... anyone know where I can get shoes like that in my size? </div>
<br /></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-34805075083010972092012-05-14T21:27:00.002-04:002012-05-14T21:27:45.276-04:00More Alexa Narvaez<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Back around Christmastime, I mentioned a cute commercial with a little girl, <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px;">Alexa Narvaez, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;">singing along with her Daddy. I just saw them again. This time they were in the auditions on America's Got Talent. I didn't know they could do that since they had already done a commercial, which I assume makes on a professional, but apparently they can.<br /><br />I didn't think Alexa sang as well in the audition as she did on the commercial, but they got passed through to the next round. Considering the cute 4 year old that got all the way to the semi-finals a few years ago on pretty much cuteness alone, Alexa could go pretty far. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;">You can see my previous post about her here: </span><a href="http://girlsparkle.blogspot.com/2011/12/advent-calendar-day-7.html">http://girlsparkle.blogspot.com/2011/12/advent-calendar-day-7.html</a></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-11473960100115037302012-03-27T22:24:00.000-04:002012-03-27T22:24:49.152-04:00More decorated diapers!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Someone bought the last pack - I hope they like them! :-)<br />
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Ok, so I went all out this time and I have three different types from which to choose. Disney Princesses, Hello Kitty, and My Little Pony!<br />
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And it is super nice cause if someone buys them they help me out, and get something special in return! Thank you muchly! Here's the link for my sellers page:<br />
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<a href="http://www.ebay.com/sch/lil_vickie/m.html?item=140731406531&sspagename=STRK%3AMESELX%3AIT&_trksid=p3984.m1555.l2649&_trksid=p4340.l2562">http://www.ebay.com/sch/lil_vickie/m.html?item=140731406531&sspagename=STRK%3AMESELX%3AIT&_trksid=p3984.m1555.l2649&_trksid=p4340.l2562</a> </div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-82487550215002052002012-03-16T00:20:00.000-04:002012-03-16T00:20:50.203-04:00Kita needs your help!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="background-color: #fbfbff; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">As some of you may know, I have run into severe financial problems. I am trying to find ways to fund things like.... bills. And the IRS. You know... unimportant stuff like that...</span><br />
<div style="background-color: #fbfbff; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: #fbfbff; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">That being the case, it would help me out if you would take a look at my Ebay auction on some diapers I decorated myself. Should they sell, I'll put up another auction immediately. I also have Care Bears, My Little Pony, and Hello Kitty choices available. If you'd like one of these alternate choices, let me know in an email and I will post an auction with that choice for you.</div><div style="background-color: #fbfbff; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: #fbfbff; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=140723756921#ht_500wt_949">http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=140723756921#ht_500wt_949</a></div></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-17314578996581208462012-03-14T14:23:00.001-04:002012-03-14T14:26:20.446-04:00Hmm ... here's a model I could like....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I've never been one to know anything about super-models, not even their names. Before a couple days ago, the only one I could have named is Cindy Crawford. No I know another - Mila Kunis. (Although tomorrow I might be saying ... "What was her name again? Mylar or something...." :: Giggle :: )<br />
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Anyway I just happened to come upon her pictures a few days ago while searching something completely unrelated. I don't even remember what it was now. Apparently she did a photo shoot for Harper's Bazaar, and from what I can see there are several outfits that I, as a Little Girl, would just LOVE to have. Maybe different shoes though.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-0.jpg?w=500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-0.jpg?w=500" width="320" /></a></div>Okay - honestly? THOSE shoes are kinda cool! But I love the short dress and the balloons are a great youthful touch.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-2.jpg?w=500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-2.jpg?w=500" width="246" /></a></div>With the bubble gum and that cute dress, she could be 10. Except for, as I said, the shoes.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-4.jpg?w=500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-4.jpg?w=500" width="245" /></a></div>That dress with a sash and a bit of a fuller skirt for me, please!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-6.jpg?w=500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-6.jpg?w=500" width="243" /></a></div>Okay - it's an 80s prom dress, yes. But nix that plunging neckline on that thing and it'd be super-cute!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-5.jpg?w=500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://shechive.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/mila-kunis-5.jpg?w=500" width="229" /></a></div>That is my favorite shot of the entire batch, and my favorite outfit. It was the one that caught my eye to begin with. Couldn't have anything to do with the color and the way the light hits it, could it....? :: Giggle :: </div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-87468675451968728302011-12-24T21:50:00.002-05:002011-12-24T21:52:54.017-05:00Christmas Eve!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">A bit of trivia ... what movie is this from? (No cheating!!)</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Would it please the court if I gave you a christmas card? I probably won't see you again unless I get arrested, which is very unlikely, since it's christmas eve and I'm going to bed uncharacteristically early."</span></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-2822244957157634292011-12-19T23:48:00.000-05:002011-12-19T23:48:39.682-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 9 ... and my Birthday!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today is my birthday. :-) I am 6 ... with experience. It was 12 years ago today (ignore the math - I'm only 6 and can't do it anyway) that my LG spirit burst on the scene, with much enthusiasm. My life has not been the same since, and I wouldn't want it to be. Not that life was so BAD before, but there were lots of pieces of the puzzle that were missing. Like, when I was little, why were almost all my friends girls? Why did I always like such "flamboyant" clothing? Why was most of my playing so much different from the other boys? Why did I like dollhouses so much? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today I can decorate my house however I want - I have dolls and a dollhouse, and paintings of little girls all over my walls. When people ask, I shrug and tell them I am eccentric. If they don't like it, too bad - they aren't the one living the life. That's because I know who I am and I am comfortable with it ... before I discovered what LG is, I didn't know and I wasn't comfortable. After, I understood and a lot of the events of the past made sense in this new light. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am a Christian and I had to decide if this was wrong. People tend to mix a bunch of lifestyles together which have no business being so. I believe homosexual sex is wrong because the Bible says it is, in Romans 1. (I'm not interested in a debate about this ... I've already heard all the arguments one who disagrees with me has, and likely they have heard all the arguments I have, and frankly I have no need of making more enemies than I already have.) I had to look to see if there was anything in the New Testament about transgender. I couldn't find anything except one word ... "effeminate". I had to wonder if God really cared whether I sometimes want to live as a little girl - view the world with that kind of innocence and love, be full of wonder and excitement? Is it wrong to wear a dress?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A study of the word gave me two ideas. One is that effeminate refers to a boy lover - a sexual act. The other is that the word literally means "soft". I am not soft. I may be a little girl, but I'm tough as nails when it comes right down to it. I stand up for what is right, and I believe that was the meaning behind the term - one who doesn't live up to responsibility. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Someone said today that I am like a boomerang. I get thrown but I keep coming back around to where I was before. It was funny because in the past I had a friend who referred to my male personae as having an incredible amount of perseverance ... no matter how many times I get knocked off a cliff I keep climbing back up it. I found it interesting that this quality is seen by friends to both sides of my personality. However, I think it leaves out one thing.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I don't return exactly where I was before. I climb higher up the cliff. I fall further ahead than I was before. I'm stronger than before and I know the way back because, "This is not a place I have not been before." My personality is in constant evolution. Plus, any mistakes I made before, I know not to make again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'd like to share a few lighthearted, and some deeper, things I have learned over the years:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. People can be friends, despite extreme differences in personal opinions and backgrounds.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. You can have a "twin" who looks nothing at all like you.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. It DOES matter if you are color blind. Get a friend to help you match your tights, shoes, accessories, and dress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">4. Self-pity is a bottomless pit, and it feeds on itself ... the more you pity yourself, the worse you will feel, which in turn will make you pity yourself more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">5. Shopping is the ultimate fun experience .... but someone has to pay the bill for it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">6. A person who will allow you to become dependent on them ... even in just small ways and in small doses .... is a very special person.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">7. And...... we shouldn't build towers at the Dining Room Table out of crystal wine glasses..... :: Giggle ::</span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now - these are deeper things I have learned from being knocked down once or twice. Hopefully they are not just cynical and they might be of help to some people:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. Most people don't really care what you do with your personal life, but those who do are REAL adamant and loud and closed minded about it. If a good portion of your life is going to depend upon how these people perceive you - and there is nothing you can do about that - be careful how much info about yourself you make available. Always have plausible deniability. In worst case scenarios, cut your losses and simply refuse to answer your critics. Why give them more ammo anyway; what possible good can come of that? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. Some people are going to act like idiots. Let them. Everyone else can already see it, and if they can't, they soon will. If you've wasted your breath trying to warn people BEFORE they find out for themselves, they will resent you for it. Just make sure you're not in the way when the fall comes. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">3. Everyone thinks they know what is best, but when it comes to volunteering to lead .... very few will. Instead, they will let someone else lead the way, and then complain about the way that person is leading. After all, that's more fun. IF you simply bite your tongue and keep leading, they'll still follow. You don't need to nip at anybody's heels to make them go. And if some don't .... you're probably better off. </span></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-76987313256052040932011-12-17T14:37:00.004-05:002011-12-17T14:44:37.406-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 8Now, I know you've all been wondering what to get me for Christmas (Or my birthday ... it's on the 19th you know)! :: Giggle :: So here's a few ideas. Just email me and I'll tell you where to send the gifts!<br />
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Ooooooor.......... maybe you'll want to ask your Mommy or Daddy for them yourself...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://c4.diapers.com/images/products/p/ks/ks-093_1z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="337" width="400" src="http://c4.diapers.com/images/products/p/ks/ks-093_1z.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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That's called KidKraft Majestic Mansion. Isn't that a great dollhouse?? And it's even available on Diapers.com : <a href="http://www.diapers.com/p/kidkraft-majestic-mansion-dollhouse-73535?site=CI&srccode=cii_5784816&cpncode=26-66146798-2&utm_source=cse&utm_medium=cpc_D&utm_term=KS-093&utm_campaign=pricegrabber">http://www.diapers.com/p/kidkraft-majestic-mansion-dollhouse-73535?site=CI&srccode=cii_5784816&cpncode=26-66146798-2&utm_source=cse&utm_medium=cpc_D&utm_term=KS-093&utm_campaign=pricegrabber</a><br />
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Course it is also available at Walmart for $100 less..... but hey - think of the convenience! Buy your diapers, then just click over and buy the Christmas present for Kita Sparkles! Right? :: Giggle ::<br />
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And then I saw this on a "must have toys" list:<br />
<a href="http://shopping.yahoo.com/893692522-lite-sprites-wand-prisma-and-pod/;_ylt=AhVmKsMgduradLbPjGUKo7lpWr8F">http://shopping.yahoo.com/893692522-lite-sprites-wand-prisma-and-pod/;_ylt=AhVmKsMgduradLbPjGUKo7lpWr8F</a><br />
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Seems like a cute idea.Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-48092829409002710902011-12-15T19:47:00.002-05:002011-12-15T19:52:42.511-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 7<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Here's a merry little commercial with a cute little girl singing Feliz Navidad with her Daddy. <br />
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<object style="height: 390px; width: 640px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qAe2xaOUuSU?version=3&feature=player_detailpage"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qAe2xaOUuSU?version=3&feature=player_detailpage" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="360"></object><br />
<br />
AND ... apparently she is quite famous. Here is Alexa Narvaez's official website: <a href="http://alexanarvaez.net/">http://alexanarvaez.net/</a></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-91890591389476939242011-12-10T00:23:00.000-05:002011-12-10T00:23:47.222-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 6<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Here is another Christmas Story for you!!<br />
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Don shuffled his feet <span class="SpellE">boredly</span> as he stood in the long line of children. His little sister was chattering away endlessly about something or other, but he wasn't listening. He was instead brooding over getting stuck taking her to see Santa while his mother shopped. He had only come along to the mall today thinking he would get to go to the arcade; he didn't know he was going to get saddled with his little sister.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Don! DON!" Samantha, his little sister, was tugging on his arm.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"WHAT?" He looked down, and realized they had finally reached the front of the line. "Oh. . ." He let go of her hand and she rushed to get into Santa's lap. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"<span class="SpellE">Aww</span> - she's so cute," a female voice near him said. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Huh?" Don looked into the face of a very pretty girl, dressed in an Elf costume. He felt his entire 15 year old body go tingly as he stared into her eyes. She looked about his age, maybe slightly younger, but he knew that couldn't be because you had to be at least 16 to work at the mall. Maybe this whole day wasn't a TOTAL loss after all. He prepared himself to flirt with the girl.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"And YOU are a good boy to bring her to see Santa, Donnie," the girl went on. Don felt his ears burn with shame - she thought of him as one of these CHILDREN! She even called him "Donnie" - he made sure NOBODY - even his mother - called him <span class="GramE">that ever</span> since he was 8!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Now see <span class="GramE">here.</span> . .!" he started, then stopped himself. He was trying to be angry, but she was so pretty it was taking the anger right out of him, it seemed. And her outfit, he looked her over in it, <span class="GramE">then</span> blushed as an uninvited thought entered his mind - he wondered how he would look in it.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Don didn't know why he had thoughts like that. Ever since he could remember they were daily occurrences. When he was six and had seen girls going to a party, he wanted to wear their party dresses. When he was eight on Halloween he was a cowboy, but what he really wanted was the cowgirl dress. When he was in a school play at 11, he had wished he had the part of one of the girls in his class, since she wore a ballet tutu for her part. And even this year when he had seen the dress she had picked out for Samantha's Christmas Dress - OH! He had been so jealous of Samantha then. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Now, here he was in front of a pretty girl in a somewhat revealing outfit, and all he could think about was what it would look like on him?? These thoughts often made Don feel guilty, and afraid that maybe he was gay. He didn't like boys, though, he liked girls. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Yes - a VERY good boy, Donnie," the girl said. "I bet you're right at the top of <span class="GramE">Santa's 'nice</span> list'. Not like a lot of other little boys – they end up on the 'naughty' list so often. Usually around Christmas time they remember and are good enough at the end to squeeze in on the bottom of the 'nice list', though."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Don somehow kept himself from rolling his eyes. This conversation was getting ridiculous. "It's <span class="GramE">DON</span>," he corrected her. "And I'm NOT a little boy. I'm going to be 16. . ." It wasn't a total lie. He had another ten months to go, but he was GOING to be sixteen. He trailed off as her green eyes seemed to probe deep into his mind.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Not a little boy, Donnie? No - I guess you're not. . ." she said, a small smile coming to her lips. "But still on Santa's nice list. And I bet I know what you want!" she finished in a sing song voice.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Normally Don would have taken this as an invitation to ask her out, but he had had about enough of this batty chick. He looked to see if Samantha was done yet.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Oh, Don. When did you stop believing in Santa?" the girl asked. "Was it when you were seven?" Don looked at her and his mouth dropped open. She couldn't know about that! No one did! "When you were seven Don - Santa couldn't give you what you asked for. It was a mistake - the letter never got to the right department. You see, Santa brings toys and dollies and teddy bears to all the good little boys and girls, but he doesn't do what you asked."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Don turned his back on the girl, disbelieving what he was hearing. She had just made a lucky <span class="GramE">guess, that </span>was all. He knew for a long time that Santa was just a fairy tale! He reached out and grabbed Sam's hand as she was coming back, wanting to make a fast getaway.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Don! Don! Did you hear? Santa said we've BOTH been really good this year, and we're both gonna get what we wanted. And he said I can have a sister!" Don wasn't <span class="GramE">listening,</span> he was making his way to the exit. He turned for one last look at the nutty girl, and found she was right behind him.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">"Didn't you know, Don?" she asked. "Santa brings TOYS. It's Santa's ELVES that grant WISHES." She touched his arm, and that was the last thing he remembered as he thought he was passing out.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">_________________________</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Santa smiled as he looked around the toy factory. Everything was running smoothly it seemed. He chuckled as the newest little elf ran about, checking everything out herself. She was such a cute little girl - and she had the cutest name too - "Christmas DAWN".</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
Merry Christmas, and <span class="GramE">may</span> all your dreams come true. - Sparkles</div></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-40964779454138315302011-12-09T01:13:00.002-05:002011-12-09T17:38:26.513-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 5<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today, a story of love and civil rights that I learned in Charleston. Don't get bored ... there are a lot of twists in this tale.<br />
<br />
Our subject was born - most likely in 1922 in Sussex in England. He later in life claimed 1937. This is not as much a leap as the other changes that took place in Gordon Langley's life.<br />
<br />
Understand that much of Gordon's life is shrouded in mystery, purposefully by some in Charleston, for reasons you will soon learn. Thus, historians differ on certain details. The main points, however, are fairly agreed upon and we will attempt for the most part to stick to those.<br />
<br />
Gordon came to North America at the age of 16. When he came to America, he met and charmed several older women. One of these was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Isabel Whitney (of the Whitney Museum Whitneys), and he was a major beneficiary of her will when she died in 1962.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Now with quite a sum of money, Gordon came to Charleston and settled in an area where mostly gay men were known to live. This did not cause a stir among the Charleston Elite. He was writer by this time and was quite eccentric, trying to rent a drinking club for a debutante ball .... for two of his dogs.<br />
<br />
Gordon eventually fell in love with a mechanic named John Paul Simmons. John Paul, however, was not gay. Oh, he TRIED to be, but it just wasn't happening. So Gordon began to dress in drag for him. Eventually, Gordon disappeared - taking a trip to Johns Hopkins University Hospital it seems for a somewhat new surgical procedure. When Gordon resurfaced in Charleston, he ... or rather SHE ... was now Dawn.<br />
<br />
Dawn hired John Paul Simmons as her butler, because they could not get married. And do you know WHY they could not get married? It had nothing to do with Dawn having once been a man. You see, until 1967 it was illegal for a white person to marry a black person, and John Paul Simmons was black.<br />
<br />
They joined the fight for civil rights, and in 1967 a famous case in Virginia went all the way to the Supreme Court, who ruled that these laws were unconstitutional. (For the record, South Carolina kept the law in the books until 1998, but they could not apply it because of the Federal Law.) In 1968, Dawn Langley became Dawn Langley Simmons.<br />
<br />
Now - the Charleston Elite were ok with eccentric Mr. Gordon Langley being gay and trying to have debutante balls for his dogs. They were ok when he was seen around town dressed as a woman (having experience in this, I can tell you no one has a problem with it now either!) They were even ok when he resurfaced as a she. BUT, when Dawn married a black man, THAT'S when Charleston went ballistic. The wedding announcement was in print barely large enough to read, and found in the obituary section of the newspaper.<br />
<br />
So - the first interracial marriage in South Carolina was between a black man who was a mechanic-turned- butler, and a rich white woman who used to be a poor white man.<br />
<br />
And that is one of the many reasons Charleston is so interesting.<br />
<br />
Special thanks for the history from historian and Tour Guide (Wicked Charleston Tour) Mark R. Jones. Some extra research was from: </span></span><a href="http://strangeflowers.wordpress.com/2011/10/15/dixie-orlando/">http://strangeflowers.wordpress.com/2011/10/15/dixie-orlando/</a> and from <a href="http://www.religioustolerance.org/hom_mar14.htm">http://www.religioustolerance.org/hom_mar14.htm</a></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-8586636363068314102011-12-07T22:13:00.000-05:002011-12-07T22:13:54.269-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Playing Catch-up now! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A couple years ago, my sister Spinner-Grace and I put together a Slideshow of Christmas pictures and I posted it on my site. Well, my site had to come down a little while after that, and now technology has changed and SWF files are hard to find a place to post - let alone embed. Thus, I converted this one to a movie, and am hoping it will play right here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzyM9OzhmfVJzDO3AR1OjjkTu8zj8_8YXJ8HohFeU6IuhelqfmwDUDvkjvKaZj-VxlFX3lSo7JRrlsk8ftjZQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
</div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-79896726923849996082011-12-07T15:52:00.000-05:002011-12-07T15:52:31.499-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sorry I got behind! I went to visit friends for a few days. Ended up taking a trip to Charleston and having a Nanny along the way.<br />
<br />
"Molly Mae" (she picked the name) joined us on our trip as all 4 of us - including Aunty - dressed LG. On the evening before, we were talking with Lori's Daddy's daughter (yeah - I know it is confusing, but I get it and I'm only 6!) who has started to sew LG dresses. We wanted to see one she had finished (which I got as a present!), and she didn't want to show it without petticoats and a model - so she "forced" her daughter to come model it. "Molly Mae", as she christened herself at the time, was obviously very into this. So Aunty and Lori's Daddy invited her to go with us to Charleston, provided she would also dress LG and make sure I didn't get into trouble. Which of course is easy considering the fact that I am such an angel. :: Placing hands together and giving innocent look after polishing somewhat rusty halo ::<br />
<br />
I had not brought anything for cold (assuming we would visit in the day time - but we went for an evening walking tour), so Lori let me borrow her Tinkerbell jacket. Loved that! I wore my Christmas dress and Christmas tights, and red T-Bar Double Strap Mary Janes. And frilly ankle socks, for the first time ever. Nanny Molly Mae fixed my hair for me and painted my nails a nice pink color.<br />
<br />
Lori wore a cute red, white, and green Christmas dress with a green ribbon bow at her collar. Aunty wore a Strawberry Shortcake dress, and last but not least, Nanny Molly Mae wore a Christmas dress belonging to Lori and a red curly wig. And a heck of a lot of petticoats. Really the only one who didn't wear a petti was me, because my dress already had a built in one, and putting another under it gave it the "bunched petticoat" effect.<br />
<br />
Nanny Molly grabbed my arm while we walked around the city, which kept me from wandering off (including into the store that smelled like chocolate and coffee .. almost got my arm yanked off there...). It got a little chilly near the end of the tour, which is about 90 minutes, but not too bad.<br />
<br />
Some people stared, but I didn't notice any really bad reactions. It's always fun! :-) <br />
<br />
This is a picture of me and Nanny Molly Mae. As usual, I blurred the faces. Also, I got her permission before posting it here! We were playing pattycake in front of the market here.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9cht0YaAq4/Tt_LwbmFynI/AAAAAAAAACM/2WDXSmpML9A/s1600/Charleston+xmas+trip+014a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w9cht0YaAq4/Tt_LwbmFynI/AAAAAAAAACM/2WDXSmpML9A/s320/Charleston+xmas+trip+014a.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And this is me at the end of the weekend - I was one happy little girl:<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5m4Dt55x8w/Tt_RyayJrfI/AAAAAAAAACU/bVNZEqtHKGo/s1600/PC040068a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--5m4Dt55x8w/Tt_RyayJrfI/AAAAAAAAACU/bVNZEqtHKGo/s320/PC040068a.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xYS88ui4V9k/Tt_R_GweUxI/AAAAAAAAACc/ykpV7mtv7Gs/s1600/PC040069a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xYS88ui4V9k/Tt_R_GweUxI/AAAAAAAAACc/ykpV7mtv7Gs/s320/PC040069a.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-70767262424616792612011-12-03T01:14:00.000-05:002011-12-03T01:14:06.493-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">An LG Christmas story, written by yours truly! ;-)<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">A Special Christmas Dress </div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> All my childhood, my family had a tradition of going to my Aunt and Uncle’s house on Christmas for dinner. They were my Dad’s brother and sister-in-law, and lived closer to us than any other relative – 35 miles as opposed to 250. It was weird though, because we only saw them at Christmas and sometimes we saw the relatives that lived further away more often than we saw them. Also they never came to our house – I think I can remember only two visits we had from them, and those were short.</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> That was my later childhood I guess though. Early on there was more contact. My aunt and uncle had a son and three daughters. Each of the daughters did come out to spend a couple or more weeks with us. The last to visit was the eldest daughter, named Kim, when she was 14. The first I recall was Julie, the youngest daughter, when she was just a baby and my aunt was in the hospital for surgery. My mom offered to take care of Julie, and I remember helping take care of her. I could have only been three myself, but I recall a few things from that period of time.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> The event I want to bring up now though happened later than that. I was 10 and Julie was 8. If you know me, or have read any of my stories before, you know I am somewhat small, and always was for my age all through my childhood. I was always the shortest in my <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD1" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; border-bottom-style: solid !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; float: none !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important; position: static; text-decoration: underline !important;">class</span> (until 12th grade, when I passed one of the girls. Yes, just one of them.) All that I say to tell you this – I was the same size as Julie that year. (The next year, she was taller than me…)</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> When we got to the house, Julie was wearing a purple velvet dress with white lace at the edge of the sleeves, collar, and in a ruffle at the bottom. It had some silvery threads running through it, and a big white satin sash around it tied in a bow in back. She had a ribbon in her hair that matched the sash on the dress. The dress puffed WAY out; of <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD2" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; border-bottom-style: solid !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; float: none !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important; position: static; text-decoration: underline !important;">course</span> at the time I had no idea about petticoats and such that girls wore with their dresses. She had on white tights, and the shiny black patent leather Mary Jane shoes that were so common on little girls back then. For some reason, I found myself drawn to the dress and could barely take my eyes off it.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> The crowd for dinner at my aunt’s was fairly large each year and as a result, those who were younger had to sit at the “childrens' table”, a card table that was set up off to the side in the living room. Julie and I were the youngest, and therefore the last to finally leave this table. This year, we were the only two left at it, since the others had rebelled and would no longer sit at a table with “children” when they were SOOO much older and more mature than we. (I’m not bitter, I’m just telling you what they said!) They fixed the problem by setting up yet another table out in the kitchen.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Julie and I therefore had the whole table to ourselves. While I was talking to her, my eyes kept wondering back to her dress, and she noticed I was staring at it. Finally, she said, “Do you like my dress?” holding her arms out so I could get the full view. Blushing as though I had been caught at something, I nodded. This guilty look was not lost on Julie. She continued, “Well, it is a chore to wear, you know. It is a bit hot, and I have to be super careful not to get any food on it – do you know Mom almost made me wear a bib? And it is hard to sit down in it with all this extra, and you can’t even get into it by yourself. The tights are itching my legs and my shoes are pinching my feet. Boys are lucky they don’t have to wear dresses like this.”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “I think it is beautiful,” I said before I thought of the implications of the statement.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Really?” Julie giggled. “I bet you wouldn’t think so if YOU were the one wearing it!” I blushed again, and this confirmed in Julie’s mind what she was suspecting. A small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Would you?” She was forcing an answer from me.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Uh…umm…I…” I faltered for words, causing her grin to become wider.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Well, maybe you should try it just to see what I mean,” she said.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I regained my voice. “Of course not!” I said indignantly. “Boys don’t wear dresses!”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Some boys,” Julie said, “would be prettier in these dresses than some girls are. Some boys might actually be girls in their hearts.”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Maybe SOME boys,” I relented. I figured that was safe enough to say without letting on that I might BE one of them. We were too young at the time to understand much about the difference between genders anyway. Most of what we knew was limited to boys wear pants, girls wear dresses, girls play with dolls, boys play with toy <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD4" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat repeat !important; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; border-bottom-style: solid !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; float: none !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important; position: static; text-decoration: underline !important;">cars</span>. I liked toy cars. We continued with eating, Julie not pressing me about the dress any more.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> After we ate, Julie wanted me to go up to her room with her. I didn’t want to at first. They had an Atari in the basement playroom, and I was highly interested in that since my parents wouldn’t get one. Julie let me play a few games, then sat down and played a few with me. She didn’t seem very good, which was why I agreed with her that if she won the next three games I would go up to her bedroom to play with her for a while. Those three games lasted about 10 minutes. I still wonder if Julie was just a shark, or if deep down I really did want to go to her room.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Everything about Julie’s bedroom said eight year old girl. Cabbage Patch Kids were big at that time, and she had several of them as well as some more conventional type dolls. I noticed a few Rainbow Brite and Strawberry Shortcake themes as well. The room was less than immaculate with some of her clothes scattered about on the <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD5" style="background-attachment: scroll !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: none !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: 0% 50%; border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; border-bottom-style: solid !important; border-bottom-width: 1px !important; color: rgb(0, 0, 128) !important; cursor: pointer !important; display: inline !important; float: none !important; padding-bottom: 1px !important; padding-left: 0px !important; padding-right: 0px !important; padding-top: 0px !important; position: static;">floor</span> and hanging over a chair. These she quickly picked up and threw them in the closet.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I looked around the room, and then noticed she was pushing the door closed. “What are you doing?” I asked her.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Well, you don’t want anyone watching while you change clothes,” she said. She waited for the confusion to register on my face before going on. “I thought we might play dress-up. *I* think *you* want to try my Christmas dress, and I can wear your clothes.”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “No way!” I said. “I’m not wearing a dress!” Inside, my feelings were screaming the opposite thing.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Oh, come on. It’s only a game of dress-up,” Julie said, making her eyes wide and innocent. Why are girls so GOOD at that? “You didn’t get me a present,” Julie pouted. “You could make this my present; playing a game of dress-up with me, and letting me choose the clothes.”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Well…” I faltered, and Julie capitalized on it.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Great!” she started to unbutton my shirt.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “I can undress myself!” I snapped, blushing as soon as I realized what I said.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Okay, but I can’t,” Julie said. “You’re gonna have to help me with this stuff.” She turned around and held her hair up in the back. “Unzip me,” she requested. I had never done that before, and though I was not one of those boys who thought that all girls had cooties, I found this to be a hard thing to do. I stood as far as I could from Julie and reached way out with my arm, taking the zipper in the very tips of my fingers to tug it down. I blushed as the white satin of her petticoat showed from underneath.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Julie then contorted her body into an angle I had never seen a human do before, and had the dress off in a second. I stood staring at the petticoat (which I still didn’t know what it was); three layers of ruffles on the skirt part, and every bit as fancy as the dress itself had been. Julie rolled her eyes finally and said, “Just what I thought. You like looking at girls in their underwear.” I blushed and started to stutter out a reply, but she cut me off saying, “Would you please hurry up? It will be New Years before you get into this stuff!”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I thought about making her turn around first, but since she had just accused me of staring at her underwear, it didn’t seem like the right thing to do. Besides, we were cousins and had seen each other in our underwear before. I quickly took off my shirt, undershirt, pants, and socks. My boots were already off and sitting downstairs on their porch. Even though Julie and I had seen each other in our underwear before, now I felt a bit awkward.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I reached for the dress, and Julie smacked my hands away. “Not YET,” she sighed exaggeratedly. “You don’t have half the things you put on first! Sheesh. Oh! I almost forgot!” She opened a dresser drawer and drew out two things, handing them to me. I looked at them – a pair of flowered panties and a small white roll. I unrolled it and realized it was a pair of tights, though they looked extremely small. “Put those on,” Julie instructed.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Aww, come on, Julie!” I complained. “Why do I gotta wear these too? Can’t I just wear the dress?”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “You won’t get the full effect!” she said. “Look, I’ll turn around if that is what is bothering you.” She turned her back to me, the petticoat swinging out as she did. I stared at them another minute, then drew my own underwear off and pulled the panties up my legs and into place. These felt a lot different than my own underpants, and I realized it was not a bad feeling.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I then looked at the tights. “These are WAY too small,” I told her.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “The tights?” she asked, turning around. She laughed. “They stretch,” she said. I looked at them, a bit confused. “Here.” She took them from me, bunched one leg up to the foot. “Sit down on the bed and hold out your foot,” she told me. I did as she said. “Your OTHER foot.”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Oh.” I put my other foot out, and she pulled the tights over it, and up my leg to the knee. Then she did the same with the other leg. Last she tugged them all the way up, making me lay on my back on the bed and put my feet in the air so she could get them in place.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “This is as hard as dressing a baby,” I thought I heard her mutter as I stood up then. She tugged and made a few adjustments to the tights. I was getting used to the feeling of having these things hug my legs and push them into shape. They were a bit itchy, perhaps, but I knew I could easily get used to these. I was beginning to enjoy this, not that I would ever let Julie know that! “Okay, help me out of the petticoat,” she said, holding her arms up.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I pulled it up over her head, so that now both of us were standing in just a pair of panties and white tights. “We could almost be twins,” Julie said, catching sight of our reflections in the mirror. She was right. Then she took hold of the petticoat and helped me get it over my body. “A dress like this absolutely HAS to have a petticoat under it,” Julie said with a smile.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “A what?” I popped my head out over the abundance of lace.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “A petticoat. What you are putting on now,” she giggled at my confusion. “Gee, you have a lot to learn about girl’s clothes, don’t you? Boys clothes are so simple – underwear, socks, shirt, pants…” she pointed to each item as she named them. “Girls have tights, nylons, slips, petticoats, half-slips, coulettes, skorts, slacks, skirts, dresses, bras – and about a dozen different styles of panties. You have shoes. We have pumps, flats, heels of different heights, sandals… it gets confusing sometimes. And we have to match it all, and THEN do our hair and make-up! And you probably wondered why it takes girls so long to get dressed.” Julie’s complaints were somewhat funny and probably picked up from her older sisters, since she didn’t wear make-up or heels or a bra yet.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I shook my body a bit and the petticoat fell right into place. “Hey! You did that pretty good – just like a real girl,” Julie teased. “I told you you must have some girl blood!” I just rolled my eyes and held my arms up so she would help me into the dress.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “See? The petticoat makes the dress stand out,” Julie said as the dress fell into place over the petticoat. “And it makes it swing and swish when you twirl,” she went on, making several adjustments to the dress. She took the zipper and pulled it up, much more easily than I had taken it down when she was wearing the dress.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Umph,” I grunted as she pulled the sash tight around my waist to tie it. “Sorry. It has to be tight,” she said. “It doesn’t look right otherwise.” She picked up my shirt and slipped into it, buttoning it as she said, “I was getting cold.” She stripped her tights down her legs. “Might be colder like this, but those things ITCH!” She was wearing little pink panties with hearts on them, and covered them quickly with my pants. “Yep – we are exactly the same size,” she told me.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> She looked at my feet and handed me the Mary Janes, which I immediately figured out I could not put on while wearing the dress. “I can’t see my feet,” I complained.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Oh for heaven’s sake!” She took the shoes from me and put them on my feet, buckling them on just right. In the mirror I could see that my body had been transformed and I was beginning to look very much like the pretty girl Julie had mentioned earlier. She grabbed a hairbrush and comb next and went to work on my hair. It had been quite awhile since my last haircut, so she at least had some to work with, I watched in the mirror as she worked on it, finally taking a ribbon the same color as her own and working it into my hair. “It would be better if it was longer,” she admitted, “But I think it looks pretty girlish like that.” And it did.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Next she had me hold my hands out. “Jeez! How did you get them so LONG?” she exclaimed, staring at my long, unkempt nails.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I shrugged. “By never cutting them.” She gave me a dirty look. I never could stand having my nails short, whenever one broke it would bother me until it grew out again, so I never cut them. Unfortunately I also never trimmed or filed them either, which Julie promptly took care of with her manicure set, as well as cleaning them. After that, she took out a bottle of nail polish, and painted my nails a glistening pink color.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “I got this for Christmas,” she told me. “It’s my first nail polish, and I also got this.” She pulled out a box that had different types of lip gloss. “You can use some of this too – you put it on like this.” She took some on her fingers and smeared it on her lips, then puckered them and wiped the excess on a tissue. “It’s my first lip gloss too, but I’ve been sneaking some of Kim’s,” she admitted.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> Since this was her first make-up, I felt it was very special that she actually allowed me to use some of it, and I thanked her. “No problem,” she said. “You’re more fun to play with when you are a girl.”</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> I was kind of taken aback by that comment until I thought about it. “You’re more fun to play with when I am a girl too,” I told her, and we both giggled. Something was happening to me, though I couldn’t figure out what. I could never imagine giggling like that with my friend Ricky. I also could never imagine Ricky and I playing with a doll house, which is what I began to do then with Julie.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> It was some time later when my aunt opened the bedroom door. “Julie, what are you two doing up her…Oh!” She stared at me for a minute. “Well don’t YOU look sweet,” she said after a minute.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “Umm – I’m sorry! I … we were just…” I tried to stutter out some excuse as to why I would be dressed like this.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> “I know what you ‘were just’ doing,” my aunt said. “You were just going to get my special niece to come and visit me, right?” Julie giggled as my aunt sat down and retied the sash into a better bow.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> She wanted me to come downstairs so she could show me off to the rest of the family, but I was far too shy to let everyone else see me like that. I did let Kim see me before the day was over, and she actually gave me some of her own lip gloss to take home with me. “Just don’t wear any to school,” she warned me. “They might not understand,” she went on with a wink.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> My aunt must have also told my Mom, although she never brought it up. I just noticed that every so often I would open my closet, and a brand new dress in my size would be hanging in it, right in front where I would have to see it.</div><div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> When I went home that evening, I wore the tights and panties under my pants. And for quite a few years after that, Julie and I always played “dress-up” at Christmastime.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-59MfLE3bLco/Ttm-HvZDxdI/AAAAAAAAACE/bDmOmHa_-sU/s1600/H23256_0400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-59MfLE3bLco/Ttm-HvZDxdI/AAAAAAAAACE/bDmOmHa_-sU/s320/H23256_0400.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin-bottom: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-68569025707342465602011-12-01T19:54:00.000-05:002011-12-01T19:54:32.741-05:00Advent Calendar, Day 1!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's here, it's here! :: Giggle :: Now if I can just stay disciplined enough (no.... not THAT kind of discipline.... put the hairbrush down please....) to post every day til Christmas! :-) Check here daily for a new post with something... an image, or a game, a story, or something of the like. :-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lekyH_vqaVw/TtggS2K2M_I/AAAAAAAAAB8/1dS-zUOorXI/s1600/XmasGirls_ClassicAd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lekyH_vqaVw/TtggS2K2M_I/AAAAAAAAAB8/1dS-zUOorXI/s1600/XmasGirls_ClassicAd.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Sorry about the writing on this... it is as clear as I could get it. This is an old Sears Christmas Catalog page. Now, I remember getting the catalog when we were kids, and looking at all the toys, but they weren't like this. Actually, I'm a little disgusted, but maybe little girls LIKED these type of toys then? It's all about cooking and cleaning and sewing and taking care of babies. Would you really want all your play to be about the work you'll have to do when you grow up? So, I'm kinda happy not to be living back then ... although the toy stove, the beauty set, or the Dolly Dear family would not be a bad gift for me right now. Hint, hint. :: Giggle ::<br />
</div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6100096292958088595.post-65063876649033915812011-11-28T11:22:00.001-05:002011-11-28T11:23:58.535-05:00For Anyone Wanting Adult Footed Sleepers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I don't know if Footed Sleepers are coming back into style - for adults now - or what, but I have been seeing them a lot more often. I even saw bunny style pink footed sleepers at Target a couple weeks ago. But here's a deal I came upon this morning that I thought everyone might like a chance to see.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">You'll never believe what I found. I wasn't even looking, but I once bought pajamas from this place called "Fun Sleepwear", and I got an email from them. They are having a sale.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">When I looked, lo and behold, they have dozens of styles of one-piece footed sleepers! No joke ... both men's and women's styles! And they are not expensive - they range from $35 - $45. Some are hooded, and many have drop seats. The link I am sending is to the womens styles, cause they are way cuter, but if you want mens just look under the mens pajamas link on the left side menu - there are footed sleepers for men too. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://www.crazyforbargains.com/fopaforwo.html" style="color: #bc2d97; font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.crazyforbargains.com/fopaforwo.html</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I have shopped here before and they are safe. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">For free shipping through November 30, use the coupon code SLEEPISGOOD. And no, I am not getting anything for posting this, I just figured someone here might like to get footed sleepers in their size for a low price.</span></div>Sparkle!http://www.blogger.com/profile/16235803156487659595noreply@blogger.com1