Well, I'm back. More later, writing now.

Well, I'm just about to leave for Slave Lake Alberta. They changed my destination, and now I'm going to be there an extra day, so more than likely this will be my last chance to talk to you guys until Friday. Wish me luck, I'm a little nervous.

Well, last night I had an incident that shows how much I've changed in the last while. See, I was on my way to work, and I stopped in at sub place to grab lunch, and the kid behind the counter said "What can I get you sir?" Now, I was in my wig, my wal-mart clothes, and was carrying a purse, so "sir" just wasn't the pronoun I would have preferred him to use. But while not that long ago an incident like that would have sent me spiraling downwards, I immediately thought "poor kid, needs better glasses, cant tell sirs from ma'ams." I think its a good sign, dont you guys?

I have had a curiosity about tampons for many years, and today, as an experiment, decided to try one in my "back door". We'll see how it goes, and I'll give you guys a full report when my little experiment is over.

Well, I had an interesting comment at work from Aurelia. She said "I can't even picture you as a tomboy". Gee, wasn't it just the other day I commented on Steph's "Too little, too late" that I needed girl lessons? Maybe I dont after all....

Well, the last couple of days, I've been arguing with my muse, and its been going like this:

Me: Time to get working on "Quest"

Her: I'm bored of that story. I wanna do something else.

Me: Like what?

Her: Like a sequel to "The Dead Kid,"

Me: Hmmm. Okay, lets see what that looks like ...

(Later)

Me: I dont know, it might be too close to the first one.

Her: Not a problem. We could do another autobiographical story.

Me: I do like talking about myself...

(Later)

Well, I showed off my pretty toes to all at work. The prevailing opinion was that they had done a nice job. I'm kinda happy about that, as I hope you might have guessed ...

Well, I wanted to mention the generous people who seem to come my way. At the TS group meeting, I got a new wig, a new purse, and a book on clothes and makeup tips for trans people. Then my neighbor gave me two seasons of "The L - Word" to watch. That, plus how amazing my co-workers have been about this whole thing really is a fantastic gift in its own right, and that's not even counting all the support I get here as well. I am so blessed, and so grateful.

Well, I may have set myself up for disaster a lot sooner than I planned. I was driving home this morning, and I had some bottles belonging to my ex in my car, so I figured I would drop them off on my way. So I hit the corner near her house, and she's there, watching my daughter walk to school, so I told her about dropping off the bottles. Why does this mean bad things? Because I was still wearing my wig from work when she saw me. Right now, my only hope is that it didn't register with her, or WW III will start ahead of schedule ...

Well, I'd like to take a second and talk about my latest piece, "There was a point". I had a horrible nightmare in which I replayed a portion of my abuse, except in the nightmare I played both parts - the abuser and the abused. After I woke shaking and crying, I was left with the story, which took about 5 minutes to write. Just goes to show something beautiful can come out of pain, yes?

Well, yesterday while I had the day off, I went back over my blog here, and its hard to believe how much has changed for me from the beginning. Then, I was still struggling with accepting myself as a woman inside, still hoping somehow I could be the male person everyone wanted me to be. And even as I started to accept myself internally, I struggled with feeling like there was nothing I could do - no way I could pass dressed as a woman, much less begin a transition, and yet here I am, on my way, able to go out unafraid, accepted at work, and even started hormones.

I had a bit of a funny moment at work yesterday. I was walking down the main aisle, and I could hear someone bringing a pallet behind me. I glanced behind, and saw one of my co-workers, and for some reason I thought, "Is he looking at my butt?" I had to restrain myself from adding a little extra wiggle to my walk, and I don't know why I felt like that.

Well, thanks to all the loving support I get here, I'm doing better. Now with that crisis behind me (hopefully), I wanted to talk about my boy name. I'm not sure why I've been so reluctant to share it, going so far as to create a pseudonym even in my autobiographical story "night entries". I'm gonna have to mull this one for a bit.

Well, I got the green light. I started female hormones today. (Does a little happy dance)

I've been thinking hard about why I have such a hard time sometimes with the idea of moving forward. It has a lot of factors - a lot of fear of losing my child, some general anxiety about the necessity of this transition, to name two. But one major factor is the fact that the closer I get to being female, the closer I get to the heart of my abuse. It was the justification my attacker used for his use of me, and it led to me making a connection between being girly and being hurt. I hope I can move past that part, eventually.

But the next couple of stories won't be filled with sunshine and puppies. Sorry.