Another College Blog

So I’ve been working at the new place for a few weeks now, and it’s pretty much exactly what I feared it would be. The transition from Mom's to this loud, high-energy sports bar has been jarring, to say the least. Back at the diner, it was regulars, pancakes, and coffee refills. No one was really looking at me. Here? I can feel their eyes on me constantly. The hair, the makeup, the outfit—they all do their job a little too well, which is both validating and completely exhausting. Financially, things have flipped. My base pay has shrunk, but my tips have absolutely exploded. You’d think that’d be a win, but honestly, it’s complicated. There’s something a little demoralizing about putting in a full week of work and realizing that  all I’ve really done is “earn” a very expensive new purse. Sure, it’s a designer bag and I look great carrying it, but I didn’t choose it. It’s just the kind of thing that gets expected of me now. Pretty girl, pretty accessories. Spend some time looking g...

  The new job is still waitressing, but like I said before the per hour is going to be lower and the tips will be higher. I'm not so thrilled about this arrangement and I'm the only waitress working there who isn't wearing sensible shoes.  People seem nice enough and Mercedes has introduced me to everybody, but I really am nervous about football games and other big crowds.  Of course the biggest that people will find out that I'm not what I appear to be.  I'm sure there will be updates.  There are more birthday pics, but I think Mia posted the most incriminating stuff and I had a feeling people would want to see the new uniform.

So, the girls decided this was a good day for Jenna and me to hit the town for some quality girl time.  We did a lot of shopping, from clothes, to party decorations to makeup.  It kind of reminds me of when Fiona first started because I've been dressing pretty much every day for almost 3 years now and Jenna is still very new to it all.  My sisters have made her dress at college, but she hasn't done the extensive work I had to do on movement, voice, and mannerisms that I have.  As a result, I pass much better and though Jenna is fairly feminine looking despite wearing extensions, she is much easier to read.  It makes me very nervous because if she gets read, the chances are very high that I will be read too.

  My sisters arrived along with my friend Jenna (formerly Jacob).  I know that Jenna was thinking of coming here from college, but after the girls gave him the feminization treatment, he decided to go to Southern Illinois instead.  He's quite a ways away from me, but he's being trained by my sisters Kim and Holly.  Jenna is so much fun, but I'm realizing she has a terrible habit of pissing off girls.  She pissed off Mia and her friends and evidently also pissed off my sisters who wanted a sissy of their own and had plenty of ready made blackmail thanks to the girls here.  My younger sister Holly who is a sophomore in college is her primary feminizers but Kim enjoys it too.  They've been making her send them selfies from college and then when they are home from school, Jenna is totally in their clutches.  Even worse, it's hard to say the selfies are forced when nobody is at your college. I just don't know how you explain that when you don't go to c...

  Here’s an old pic of me from my internship. The office was located on the second floor of this quirky little building that had a coffee shop, a drug store, and a few other small businesses on the ground level. I used to love the atmosphere—there was always this subtle buzz of activity. You’d hear snippets of conversation from the café, a door chime from the pharmacy, and the soft clatter of heels on the stairs as people filed into work. The coffee shop downstairs became my morning ritual. They knew my name (and my order) by the second week. I’d always stop in before heading up—usually something simple like a vanilla latte or cold brew if I was running late. On slower mornings, I’d sit with my cup and people-watch for a few minutes before the workday officially began. It made the internship feel less like a humiliating grind and more like something I had chosen for myself.

  Ashleigh showed up at my door like she owned the place, already dressed in tight jeans and a strappy top like she’d just walked off a reality show. “You’re coming with me,” she said, pushing past me. “Karaoke night. Double date. And no, I’m not dragging any of my friends if your guy turns out to be awful. That’s your job, princess.” Before I could even protest, she was already flipping through my closet. “Where’s that little silver skirt? You know, the one that makes your legs look ten miles long?” She found it. Of course she did. Twenty minutes later, I was in that ridiculous sparkly mini, and my cropped black turtleneck. I did my makeup quick but decent—winged liner, red gloss, the usual. Ashleigh just nodded, satisfied. “Perfect. You’ll look amazing on stage.” I was about to argue that I wasn’t singing, but we both knew that was a lie. The bar was already packed. Ashleigh’s guy—Liam—was charming in a too-much-cologne, opens-doors kind of way. Mine? His name was Carter. He spe...