Well, today I finally got some measure of vindication with the psych crowd. A young woman doing her Doctoral Theisis at a local Uni called me on the phone and we talked for two hours, using all my minutes up. Still, I got a chance to say exactly what I thought of the treatment protocol used on me. During the conversaton she did tell me that she knew a twoman married to a man and they were very happy. You can not imagine how healing that was for me. I had previously thought that no men were marrying twomen. If any of you are holding out, I would really like to know anonimously.

Well, writing is going well. I wrote over ten pages on 300 Rains just today, so that was good. This post is just an FYI for all of you, things are coming up that may cause some sensitive readers some emotional upset. As they get closer to Brazil things get crazier and crazier. Like I said, this is a storm warning, so make sure that when the storm hits you you are emotionally prepared. So in the immortal words of Samuel L Jackson, "Hold on to yer Butts!"

When the chapter in question hits I will just put storm in the extra description. Just saying.

Well, I should know better than to get my hopes too high. I had gotten a call from the manager at the restaurant that is in my old work, and made the assumption she was interested in hiring me. Since she had talked about it before, and already said she would have had no problem with me being Dorothy if it was up to her, I started to have dreams of being able to be a waitress. Of course, I was wrong, and she just wanted to pass on a lead she gotten from a customer. Nice of her, I know, but not what I was hoping for. Ah, well.

http://www.therepublic.com/view/story/19ff96988d124df9a0cde4...

He must have really needed a new mattress.

I saw a nice car today. It had lovely curves, and a very slight hint of chunkiness. I got the impression that the chunkiness was the result of a severe manufacturing defect, that had been mostly corrected.

...And the last three letters on the registration plate? = )

Well, yesterday was a full day. I picked up my check from the telephone sales job (I made 300 dollars in 3 days, so not bad)

Yeah I had a car accident and yeah I lost my job, but we have just found out that aside from paying for it, we now as good as own our French property.

I'm totally stoked and so is Pen.

It's scary shit, but so exciting I can't find the words - whaddya mean, that's a first?

So now I just need to get this insurance thing sorted to call this somewhat stressful part of our lives over.

I can distinctly remember a time not so very long ago, when I had myself utterly convinced that I was absolutely incapable of writing short, one-shot stories. I guess, in a way, I was incapable at the time, but not for lack of ability.

In retrospect, I think it was more a combination of facts. One of those was that I was just so laser-focused on writing my novel/serial. In the past, writing has been my therapy. I wrote for the exclusive purpose of writing what I needed to write, what I needed to get out of my system.

When we say something is "hysterical" we usually mean that's a good thing. But sometimes, I think laughter can lead to hysteria in the sense of a loss of control. At least I think thats what happened to me last night. I was talking with my girlfriend Kylie, and I started laughing, until I was in pain, having trouble breathing, and yet being unable to stop. I'm not sure what that means.

How come whenever a guy magically or through science is transformed to a girl in the stories (all the ones I've read on BCTS) do they automatically have long hair. Surely at least sometimes there should be a natural progression of the growing of hair.

I enter the local hospital Wednesday morning to have an cardiac catheterization performed, with a distinct possibility of an angioplasty and stenting. I hope that's what happens. The other, (worse) alternative will be a bypass operation, which I really would like to avoid.

Anyway, by about this time tomorrow I should know, although the pre-surgical nurse did mention I could end up being loaded on a med-flight helo and flown to the nearest cardiac care center right away if things are bad enough. I guess that's the worst possibility. :(

I wanted send out a public thank-you to Beth W., who spent time on the phone with me yesterday, on her dime. Bless you, sister. Sadly, I am fighting a fever, so its going to be a while before I feel 100 %

According to my account, I've been a member here for four years and three hours. Earlier on I'd noticed it was three years and fifty two weeks--that's like being five feet twelve. I suppose the 'puter decides it's four years when the same time of day is reached as the original enrolling time.

Goodness, four years, I was young and innocent then - now I'm old and innocent, ho hum.