Blog, Sweet Blog

Posts Tagged ‘love

Mood: Vegas, baby
Music: Gang of Four-Why Theory?

In the Mouth a Desert

Conduit for Sale!

O hai!

You’ve reached the corporate headquarters of Blog, Sweet Blog Worldwide Consolidated Holdings, Ltd.  Unfortunately, no one is available to take your calls or answer your emails this week.  We’re going to try our hand at love and adventure, Las Vegas style…maybe attend a conference.

People say that Las Vegas is bad for us; he has a kind of major gambling problem and a thing for showgirls and binge drinking.  They say he’s broken and damaged — suicidal even — that he lives on thrills and dollar bills but can only return tarnished fantasies and empty gestures.   You know what they say about stories, though.  The other side is that, every once in a while, he’ll drop his charismatic, panicky, hustling swagger for a certain someone.  At once, he’ll recall his buried innocence and shower her with as much sweetness and warmth as he can remember, until his weakness returns like the dawn’s early hangover.  The fantasy always ends and few decide to the work is worth the reward.

We’ve got all week to find that sweet, young man everybody warned us about and see if we can make it work; we’re not leaving here until we find out…or until our plane leaves.  Either way, we’ll be back next week, increasing shareholder value and creating best-in-class personal blogging content.

Until then, we remain,

The Blog, Sweet Blog staff

Mood: Wubba wubba wubba
Music: Carpenters-Superstar!

Therefore, the problem of where I left my sandwich this morning has no solution within the set of complex polynomials and thus, cannot be solved. QED, y'all.

I think I’ve mentioned before how hard it is for us lovely trans-peeps to find El RomanceThe last post and adorable Jamie’s subsequent comment set me to pondering on how truly lucky I am.  It’s easy to forget your good fortune in the grind of life  and I was glad to have the chance to reflect on my happy state of affairs.

After a lot of  fond remembrance and some purring noises, the engineer that lives in my head started asking a bunch of annoying, engineer-y type questions.  How hard was it for me to meet someone, really?  Was it much harder than it is for other, cis-gendered women?  How much harder?  Is there a way to accurately quantify this experience in a rigorous, peer-reviewable fashion?  Have you ever noticed how I start a lot of my blogs with a lot of questions?  What’s up with that?  Is that a persistent trend or just something I’ll tire of in a few months?

Anyway, I’m sure this has been done somewhere else and with more skill and precision, but whatever.  This is my town and I’m just giving the people what they want…numbers and “science”! So, for what it’s worth, I offer you the following analysis and comparison of single Denver trans-girl dating in late 2009.

Approximate US population…308,000,000

If 50% are men…154,000,000

Approximate number of US men aged 25-44 (my dating range)…42,000,000

If 90% of them are straight or bisexual (using the “10% rule”¹)…37,800,000

How many of them live in Colorado (we’re about 7.7% of the US population)?…2,910,600

How many live in the Metro Denver area (about half)?…1,455,300

How many of those guys are “desirable”, e.g. not felons, not sex offenders, not homeless, not certifiably nuts, etc. (assuming 10% “undesirable”¹) ?…1,440,747

How many of those guys would date a transsexual (I have no idea, maybe 1 in 50¹)?…28,815

How many of those guys are the kind of guy who reads books, listens to good music, likes Art, is employed, doesn’t live at home, tolerates cats, isn’t a Republican, makes me laugh, is intelligent, isn’t into domestic violence, knows something about politics and current events, isn’t addicted to sports or Internet porn, isn’t already married/in a relationship/polyamorous, isn’t an alcoholic or drug addict, doesn’t drive a Hummer or monster truck, doesn’t like NASCAR, doesn’t care if I have tattoos, thinks I’m cute, and can take me out and buy me dinner every once in a while (ummm, 1 in 50 maybe¹)?…576

Chance I’ll meet one of these perfect guys on the streets of Denver? about 1 in 2500

Chance a cis-gendered woman with low standards will meet a guy on the streets of Denver? about 1 in 1

Chance a choosy, cis-gendered woman will meet a guy on the streets of Denver? 1 in 50

¹The data provided in these instances is a best-guess estimate, has not been verified, and should not be used as a basis for further academic research.  However, the author encourages ongoing, detailed collection of demographic data in the hopes that such data may one day support the suppositions contained herein.

To put it another way, it’s roughly two orders of magnitude or 50 times more difficult for me to find a suitable suitor compared to a straight, non-transsexual woman of Denver.  Yeesh, when you think about the odds, it almost seems like it’s not worth the bother.  Just kidding!  It’s all totally worth it and I highly recommend it.

So yeah, I’m lucky and I know it, clap your hands.  If you’re with someone, you should clap your hands as well.  If you’re not with someone and you want to be, go out there and find them!  The numbers say it’s far from impossible and not even as remote as winning the lottery or dying in a plane crash.  Chances are, you’re amazing and deserving of love and happiness, so go out there and get it!

Happa-happy Holidays!

p.s. For the record, I don’t believe that luck is a real thing.  However, I do believe that people can put themselves into a positive frame of mind where “lucky” things seem to happen…which is even better.

Mood: Already stressed
Music: Brian Jonestown Massacre-Jennifer

I don’t feel great about reposting some of the emails I receive from potential suitors.  Making fun of people for poor grammar or ignorance is too easy and leaves me feeling hollow and dead inside.  I’d like to think I’m more of a candle-lighter than a darkness-curser.

Then again, every once in a while, I get a special letter from a special fella that is simply too good to pass up.  Like, so good that I feel like I’m doing the Internet a disservice by only sharing it with my closest girlfriend.  We’ve been through a lot, Internets and I don’t want to disserve(?) you.  Maybe I can post this and mock it as a way to educate some of the men folk out there in the dating pool?  Maybe said men folk will read this and really think twice about the sort of nonsense they’re sending us.  I know, I’m not holding my breath either.  Anyway…

Subject:  Please Write

Hi, Anna.

First, let’s cut to the chase regarding the gender thing. I guess I need clarification about that as I’m not sure how to read “pre-op transsexual woman”. What exactly does that mean? Does it mean you were born a female but want to be a male? Where are you now, and where will you be post-op? I will let you know that I am straight but seem to be bi-curious, also. And I’ll admit that I am rather turned on by “chicks with dicks”. So, please enlighten me. I’ll also say that I seem to be one of those really “hard to match” people. My work involves making maps or just geo-data. Could you also explain the “Hell” part of your username? You sure sound interesting and I like your pics, too. 🙂

Mr. So, So Wrong

To the commentary bullets!

•  First, let’s cut to the chase… Wow, spooky.  How did he know that the exact kind of man I’m into is a chase-cutting, man-of-action, kind of man?  It’s like he’s living inside my mind.

•  …regarding the gender thing. I’m thinking the phrase, “if you have to ask…” applies here.  Whatever.  Maybe I could be more clear, but I think most people understand what I’m about.

•  I’m not sure how to read “pre-op transsexual woman”. Hmm, an excellent point.  This site may answer some of your questions.

•  Could you also explain the “Hell” part of your username? LOL, genius…I wish I’d written that.  Well, if you insist…  You see, I use Anna Hell as my nom de guerre because I’m a crazed, devil girl who worships the dark lord of the infinite abyss and leaves a trail of broken hearts and disemboweled lovers in her wake.  Also, I suck men’s souls out through their penis.  Just kidding, it’s an old family name…from Finland or whatever.

•  I am straight but seem to be bi-curious…I am rather turned on by “chicks with dicks”.  Awww,  it’s my first “chicks with dicks” email!  And, I think you can go ahead and just say you’re bi-curious…bisexual even.  That’s kind of like saying, “I think I might be interested in learning about indecision.”

•  I seem to be one of those really “hard to match” people. Get out of town!  Really?  I, for one, cannot believe he’s “hard to match.”  It makes no sense that a silver-penned wordsmith who makes “maps or just geo-data” is still single.  Curse you, o cruel world, why dost thou let yon earthbound angel suffer in solitude?

•  You sure sound interesting and I like your pics, too. 🙂 Oh, so you like my “pictures” and you think I’m “interesting”, hunh?  Well, screw…crap, I can’t think of anything snarky to say.  I like smiley-face emoticons and that’s actually a nice sentence and representative of “things I like to hear.”  Next time, just build your letter on that and drop the insulting, awkward, over-sharing.

Class dismissed.

Mood: Like me and the universe are buzzing on the same frequency
Music: Kreator-Under the Guillotine

So, I’m sort of Internet dating again.  I wrote about this before but never finished the story.  Honestly, there wasn’t a lot to tell and sharing that little bit didn’t ever seem like a high priority.  Still, I guess I owe you guys something…

I put an ad on and a more LGB-oriented site the first time.  I chose plentyoffish because it was free and because Sarah had mentioned it and seemed to have had some luck with it.  My luck wasn’t as good.

I got a few responses right away.  I wish I could reproduce these, but it looks like the stupid site deletes messages after a while.  The first one was from a barely-literate, thick-necked goobery dullard from the boonies.    If you’ll permit the dramatic reproduction…

hey sweete,

ur pretty.  you should call me. we can have nice dinner and ill give you some sweet lovin.

call me,


Wow…so…flattered.  Here’s the imaginary response I sent him via the Psychic Friends Network…

Mr. dateraper469,

Until the end of our days together, you sir, may regard me as your beloved, your Miss Hathaway.  Your simple note was as sweetly rendered and as charming as any of our great Bard’s sonnets.  Your words pierce the very beating heart in my bosom and I offer you my unyielding love and devotion.  I pray that you may return my ardor and I breathlessly await your reply.

Ever yours,

Mlle. Anna Hell

p.s. lol, jk, you’re a moron, don’t ever write me again.

The next message was from an utterly ordinary Westminsterian who looked just like a cop (he had that icky little cop moustache).  His email went something like

Hi Anna,

I had to look twice at your profile because it’s really hard to belive that you’re a guy.  But you seem like a nice person and I might be into trying that.


Officer Moustache

I answer most people, so I sent him a curt reply and mentioned that I wasn’t a guy and hadn’t ever been and that he was off to a really bad start.  He sent me an apologetic reply and asked me to forgive his ignorance.  I took me about a week to reply to him.  He wasn’t ugly and seemed stable and considerate, BUT, his profile was entirely devoid of personality, he looked police-y, and I doubt we had much more than a primate ancestry in common.  So I sent him back, what I thought was, a balanced, but direct reply…

Officer Moustache,

Look, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I’m borderline crazy and need a messy-haired, sexually adventurous musician/artist type who’ll worship me as a goddess from now until the day of our inevitable, explosive breakup.  I also want to snort coke off of a razor-sharp, six-inch long bowie knife and get filthy with the person I’m sleeping with on top of the Eiffel Tower some time before I die.  Something tells me you’re more of a homebody.  Good luck with “finding the one” and don’t bother to write me back.


Anna Fucking Hell

And finally, kittens, I received a sweet, well-written series of notes from a rather attractive African gentleman.  The letters weren’t funny or weird at all, so I won’t try to reproduce them.  Basically, he told me how beautiful I was and shared with me his love of fine art, travel, and gourmet cuisine.   It still seemed like we didn’t have loads/anything in common but I need to get me some date experience, somehow.  So, when he asked me if I wanted to meet him for coffee, I happily accepted.  My too-good-to-be-true alarm started going off the next day.  I’ve been around the block before and I’m well-aware of how much most men hate reading dating site profiles.  I had to check…

Hi Africa,

I’m excited to finally meet you (and for you to buy me coffee, lol).  I just wanted to double check something before we meet up.  I know I’m just being silly and it’s a small matter, really, but do you remember how the first sentence of my profile said that I’m a pre-op transsexual woman in bold, giant, flaming italics?  You know what that means, right?  And you’re cool with that, right?

Just checking…


Africa never wrote me back.


But don’t cry for me, Argentina.  I’d much rather weed out the riff raff and get all of the unpleasantness out of the way before meeting for the first time.  Still, I’m deleting my profile from  It’s a visually unappealing site that seems to be populated with nothing but meatheads.  I’m leaving the LGB site too…not a single person ever contacted me.

As I mentioned, I’m back at it again at a new site.  Things seem to be dramatically better this time.  I’ve already traded emails with a few interesting guys and one super cool woman and they all seem to be aware of and ok with my medical history.

Fingers crossed, y’all.

Mood: hella weird
Music: Underworld-Born Slippy

Mary: See Bob? I’ve run this simulation hundreds of times, and I keep getting the same result.
Bob: Hmmm, you’re right Mary. According to these calculations…
Mary: …we’re days away from a  close encounter…with cheese! We’ve got to alert the President!
Bob: You know, I…I love you, Mary.
Mary: I know, Bob.  I know.

an introduction

Hi, I'm Anna and I love cheese!

This blog is a chronicle of my life and a catalog of happy ephemera. The About page has a little bit more information, but, remember, none of this is really's just a supplement, a thumbnail sketch, a mostly anonymous Intarwebs placeholder. I'm way better/less wordy in person. :-)

Oh, and if I wrote something about you and you thought it was mean or hurtful, I'm sorry. It's how I felt at the time, but probably isn't how I feel now. Chances are, I love you and I think you're awesome.


All content on Blog, Sweet Blog is copyrighted by me, Anna Hell. Unless otherwise noted, all photos, words, and content on this site are mine, created by me, and should not be used without my permission (or at least attributed and linked back). I try to embed links or quote original source material if I use another person's work.

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January 2022