Well, I found a place to be dorothy. After my 2nd class in career planning, I went to my local pride center. I was only hoped to find a list of TG friendly businesses that I could leave a resume with, but I also found out they have a weekly meeting Sunday night, and TG are invited, so I am going as dorothy. Then, to cellebrate, I went to my local mall, and visited a middle-to-high end department store, looking for a new skirt.

Well, I was due for a down, and this one is a doozy. Been struggling with mmense feelings of sadness and grief. Its like being on a little raft, and having a storm form around you. I have no choice but to try and ride the wave, or drown. Fortunatly, I have resources I didnt have before, and I am trying to use them. They include the techniques I have been learning in my sessions with the counsilor at the rape center. I cannot, I will not give up, but the next bit of this climb is going to be tricky.

Well, my visit to the provicial goverment office was a waste. I make too much money at 700$ a month to get help. I am at a loss. I just dont know what to do now. I wonder if I am stuck like this forever.

Well, I think we have fixed all my stories. Poor Bev, she and I looked like we were going to end up conjoined twins. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, things are moving forward. Tomorow, I go to my provincial goverment office to try and get some finincial help, and for the first time, I am mentioning my gender issues in a official form, including listing dorothy as an "alias". We will see what occurs, but just filling out the forms felt good.

Something weird is happening to my stories, and I am not a happy camper. Somehow my name as the author is being replaced with beverly colleen's. This happened to the first story i submitted, and bev was not pleased, thinking I had used her name without permission. I really hope this is a problem that can be fixed. I am going to have to go through all my stories and make sure i am getting credit. I would hate to have to pull them, but I did write them, and i deserve the praise and blame for them.

Well, I thought I might share a bit about my ongoing serial, I Woke. It started with learning about N.D.E. - Near Death Experiances. A lot of people have had this experiance, and there seems to be some common moments they share. They have talked about drifting above their bodies, watching doctors and nurses try and revive them. Many have mentioned a great light, and some have said they have heard a voice telling them to go back. Well, our hero(ine) may not have heard a voice, but he is serving a perpose where he is, and there are some surprizes ahead. My only hint - Chaos therory, giggle.

If you have been on this site for any length of time, then chances are good you have read a few stories with the following scene - a man is made over into a woman, and when he first catches site of his new appearance, he is amazed, (and usualy aroused) by how beautiful, how sexy, how feminine he looks. Well, I dont live in one of those stories. Getting ready for the consilors reminded me just how difficult the road ahead is going to be for me, simply because I dont pass as female. I guess I am stuck, at least for now.

Well, I would like to describe my trip to the counsilor. First, I got dressed as feminine as I posibily could. That meant bra, panties, hose, a purple valour dress, some clip-on earings, and a butterfly necklace. Unfortunately, I had to wear boy shoes, but ah well. Anyway, I was beyond nervous and left home early. I got to the place where the sexual assault center has their office, and it suddenly occured to me that I had not entriely thought this through.

Well, I am as dressed as I can be, waiting to go to my counsiling session tonight. My mood is all over the place, as I am nervous, frustrated that I cant be more feminine, and looking forward to it all at once.

A friend of mine has started up a TG website if anyone is interested in checking it out
http://rhonda7.proboards.com/index.cgi

I am me

I promiced I would write a bit more about my faith. I strongly suspect that my grandmother was the one who convinced my mom to send me to christian camp. But whatever the reason, faith became a big componant in my life. I am not sure I could do justice to what it means to me to someone who doesnt believe, but I needed that sense that somehow, in some way, there was plan, and I was included. That Someone beyond myself, greater than myself, was in charge, and He actuallly cared about me. When I found whosoever prays, it was, as it were, an answer to prayer in itself.