Hey-la-day-la my Mojo’s back

Forgive my impertinence, and I may be somewhat biased but mean no disrespect, but I have been wondering lately when I log on to the blogosphere to be a vocal advocate of things gender, sexuality, feminism and discrimination, whether I have gotten that much smarter since I began transition and hormone replacement therapy, or has the hairier side of the gender spectrum, reverted back to a stone-age Neanderthal cave man often depicted by a wooly furball with spindly legs, carrying a massive club the size of a small sofa on one shoulder while dragging behind him an hour-glass figured creature by her long blond hair but who is otherwise hairless, with X’s for eyes and tongue hanging out, back to his “man-cave.”

This exposé on the stupidity of testosterone-induced machismo, which sometime seems to nullify common sense and propiety, began yesterday evening when I had a confrontation of sorts with a man next door, who tried to interrupt a conversation with the my neighborly “lady of the house” on my property who I had pulled aside in which to talk , in private, about the intolerable situation with all his cars which took up the front yard,  to be daily shuffled around like one of those puzzles with pieces that slide about into a grid, and migrated out to the street, not only in front of his house, but in front of my house and the house across the street, many in questionably operating condition with engines with no mufflers which he sometimes thoughtlessly gunned after dark.

I had put up with his daily and sometimes nightly shenanigans for several months but now the weather was becoming hot after a longer than usual freezing at night and frigid by day weather season and I had started to spend more time out of doors where the the noise level had risen by at least twenty decibels which is equivalent to 100 times louder than before and the shuffling around of his his semi-operable cars and I was at wits end what to do except calling the parking enforcement division to survey the situation but as a lady now I decided than rather than confront him directly or call the local constabulary, that I would talk to the only female “adult” who lived in the household who I had befriended when I moved back into my home after the passing of my 31-year marriage partner the previous October.

Here I was standing on my own property where I had pulled her aside to speak in private when he approached us on the sidewalk in front of my house and in a veiled threatening tone of voice dared me to call the cops within earshot of myself and her and was not his legally wedded or common law spouse who would be the only person to have immunity from testifying in court as my witness. because of the privileged communication status afforded her by actually be married to this person.

I mean, how intelligent is that? I had already had him dead to rights for disturbing the peace and being a public nuisance, I being a Jane Q. Public of one, along with at least a half dozen parking violations for storing  non-operable vehicles on a public thoroughfaire where he worked on them, who had the intelligence and wherewithall to attemp to peaceably try to mitigate a rapidly escalating and now explosive situation by talking to the only high estrogen, low testosterone woman who I regarded not only as my neighbor and girl friend, but a sister and now he had stepped over the line from a civil to a criminal complaint for trespassing and implicitly threatening me with retaliation for calling the “peace-keeping” authorities with probable cause for a criminal indictment along with a possible lawsuit for pain and suffering upon a senior widow, living alone and trying to mind her own business and not cause any enmity between neighbors who was now sobbing from this violent confrontation who not only knew herself to be an intelligent, autonomous empowered female who had finally arrived at the point in her transition where she no longer had to prove herself female enough to anyone and was already seen by her female ally and sister against a testosterone-induced person of questionable intelligence who did not know with whom he was dealing, who was not an attorney who knew the finer points of law who was a computer-savy clever female  who did not to wish anyone malice

Anyway, she promised to talk to him and try to convince him that he  probably stepped over a line where he could be faced with a felony charges or a lawsuit that could really f*ck his life up financially for quite a long time and the next day he came to the fence with the proverbial hat in hand to apologize for his unwarranted belligerent behavior the previous evening, lucky that I did not sue the pants off him or having him arrested on felony aggravated battery charges.  I really doubted that he had a brain in his head but I wasn’t going to tell him that because he probably wouldn’t get it end if it were nailed to his forehead.

I rest my case, your honor!

Deanna Joy

About Deanna Joy Hallmark

I am a post-op transgender woman who has now completed transition and living my life as the woman I was born to be. I have been writing my blog, now titled "A Spy in the Enemy Camp - A transgender woman’s perspective from having lived as a man among men" since December 2011. Originally a record of my process and feelings in transition, last summer in 2013 it took on observations from both sides of the gender binary and now will also be looking at my past life pretending to be the man I never was and how it finally brought me to where I am today, the beautiful intelligent woman I had always believed I should have been since I was little.
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2 Responses to Hey-la-day-la my Mojo’s back

  1. Ken Shaw says:


    Thanks for your recent posts.

    I have an editorial comment that might make your posts even easier to read, if you want it.



    • Thanks for the offer, Ken. I don’t want to have to “think” about that, right now. I just want to bask in the warm glow of my own delightful, devilishness, whatever the {bleep} that means, LOL;)
      Thanks again for your unwavering love and support, dear one. It warms the cockles of my heart. Of all the people from TC who have moved on, I miss you the most.
      “Ain’t we a lovely bunch of nuts?”

      Deanna Joy

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