Rock show No. 2...

So first off, hey girls. Long time, right?

I have officially given up trying to keep a diary (it's a pretty leather-bound home-made beauty I got at a Renaissance fair and am too afraid to write in it). Thus, here I am again. And you know, I've missed you all.

Lucked out in making the most amazing of friends with some co-workers who know about Andi with an I. Same group with whom I went to my first show enfemme. He's a wonderful guy (and definitely my type, which makes it kinda awkward for me sometimes) and she's a long-time friend who is my Mary Kay hook-up. Also learned a few eye-shadow techniques and how to use liner without looking like an infant's coloring book, so... that was a win! And made a new friend who helped me with bathroom tips regarding makeup touch-ups. Friends always makes the journey easier, and being open about all this this year has been nothing but rewarding and joy.

Also Flogging Molly was great. Killed it, killed it dead. Highly recommend, just saying.

Had a few weeks to plan my outfit for it too! Got a Lane Bryant card, made friends with one of the employees whose outfit advice helped me narrow down the look. Dark pair of pants that went above ankle (not quite capris), brighter denim jacket, a few red accents and bandana to contrast the blues (kinda splurged on Hot Topic because midlife crisis, heh), lacy hand-wraps and this adorable little red bow for the wig. And walked it all off in pretty red pumps. So, most times I go out I feel like Ms. Robinson; this time was me being uncharacteristically bold. Bought several patches and have decided to turn $80 jacket into rock-worthy patch gallery; will post pics when complete.

The icing on the cake was being hit on by someone after the show. Told me he was ten beers in, standing behind me the whole time, in the Coast Guard (because Virginia Beach), and wouldn't stop telling me how cute my ass was. My tone did nothing to make him question my gender, either. I let him down easy due to fiance (who was not as amused with the story as my friends were) and feeling like  Leguizamo in "To Wong Foo."

But man, that feeling? Priceless.