Okay, so I feel like an idiot. The reason why the TV didn't work was that the power bar wasn't plugged in.

On the other hand, this means I dont have to get a new TV, so yay?

Had an appointment with the doctor, and he wants to book me for surgery on my foot as soon as possible. He talked about it being a "fibroid mass", and mentioned the possibility of getting a biopsy on it once its removed to be sure its not cancer.

Now, why couldn't I get that on my male bits instead ?

Ah, well.

I guess what little fan-base I have has given up on my writing. My last story "Somebody's knockin'" and my latest poem "Lie to me" both are lacking in comments. I know I'm not the wonderful author Tels or Bailey Summers or Drea (or almost anybody you can mention on this site) are, but still ...

Well, I had my ultrasound on my foot, and I am more confused as to what's going on than ever. I started to sweat when the technician called someone else to look at my results, and all this other person would tell me was there was a possibility it was "scar tissue" and gave a Latin name which meant nothing to me.

So now I have to wait for a MRI scan, which wont happen until May, and then see the specialist.

Our system is free, but it sure takes a long time to get anything done ...

Ah, well.

What's a life without pain?

You can thank Kylie for the cool image that goes with my latest story "Scavenger"

Give her a round of applause, folks!

Well, things didn't go terribly well at work last night. I ended up actually sobbing from pain as my shoulder, my privates, my face, and my foot competed to see which one was gonna hurt the worst.

Had a long conversation with my brother and sister-in-law last night, and I am mulling over what my sister-in-law thinks of my transition.

Well, Jaci is gonna laugh at this one. Writing my autobiography has reminded me of a very strange incident. I was still in grade six, and I was on my way home from school when I saw some of my usual tormentors, but this time they had friends. Friends on bikes. Friends with knives, chains, and baseball bats.

I ran for my life, and somehow managed to get to my door ahead of them. I called the police, and decided I would do something rather stupid - I opened my door and told them the police were on their way.

Well, yesterday was an adventure, all right. First, we were later getting going than I would have liked, then a train kept us waiting for 10 minutes, and then I lost track of mom, so by the time we got there we were both seriously stressed. But the actual event was nice, and one lady complimented me on my pigtails. Other than my relatives using the male name for me, it was a decent night.

I have been thinking about my nightmares the other night, and I think I see the silver lining. See, unlike most of these instances, I was able to do something inside the dream.

I fought back.

Question for you all. If you were a pre-op male to female trans person, would you be comfortable using a woman's locker room? For example, before and after a gym class? I know my answer, but what do you guys and gals say?

You ever notice it sometimes feels like once one thing goes great, a bunch of other things start going great as well, and when one bad thing happens, it opens the door to a bunch of badness?

WARNING: WHAT IS TO FOLLOW IS A FRANK DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE. PLEASE BE CAREFUL READING ...

well, my mom showed me how alike we are in her reaction to the growth on the bottom of my foot.

I had a nice conversation with Sigh last night, and I just wanted to thank her publicly for talking with me, and tell everybody she is a sweet woman who I am glad to consider a friend.

Well, last night I was having a conversation with Jaci, when out of the blue I started shaking and crying. I bawled and bawled for about twenty minutes, while Jaci just let me go at it, but finally I wound down enough to regain some control again, at which point I wanted to know why this happened. Jaci thinks this was because of the tension I had going into my physical finally coming out, but I'm not so sure that's the only reason.

Ah, well.