I went to see my lawyer this morning, really just to sign the motion for him to get the case dismissed. The state came back this morning with another offer, removing two of the charges against me. I decided to not risk 15 years in prison and instead settle on 6 months probation. The probation doesn't have me attending any classes or effect my life in any way other than to mail in something every month saying that I am alive.

Okay, so here is the deal. I got off the phone with my lawyer not too long ago. There is an offer on the table. But I think I must remind you of the case first. I am being charged with not registering three email addresses, which I am legally required to do because I am a registered sex offender (took a plea because someone used my computer for something nasty and didn't want to spend 650 years in federal prison). Two of the email addresses don't exist, one hasn't existed since prior to having to register email addresses and the other never existed at all (at least not by me).

I tried my hand at a little erotica and transformation story, but I don't think my writing ability in that area was able to pull it off. I like the concept of Orgasmicur and was wondering if someone would like to attempt fixing it. I never saw a person transform while masturbating in a story, but it intrigues me.

This is Big Closet: Top Shelf This is not any other website. I think that it would be good to remember that and that it is in poor style to discuss other websites on this site or to discuss this site on others, especially to gripe, complain, and be a general bitch about things.

For those of you keeping track of the mess I'm in, here is an update. Maybe some of you can give me some feedback or suggestions.

I met with the lawyer today. It's the first time I had a sit down with him since the whole mess began. Right now there are 2 pressing issues... one, the charges against me, three unregistered email accounts that they say were suppose to be registered. Two, whether further charges dealing with files on my computer were coming.

SO today I finally started taking hormones... or hormone, depending on your view of things.

The doctor put me on 1mg of estradiol twice a day (so a total of 2mg) and we will adjust when the labs come back. Currently I am not taking a testosterone blocker because the last time I had that checked it was at a 75. I suppose if it got higher I can start that again too. I do notice lately that my libido is way down anyway so maybe my body gave up on it.

At least its a start

So the journey continues....

Today, I went to the hormone doctor. I am sure there is a proper title for that, something that ends in ologist. So I will say I went to the hormonologist today.

Was a fairly benign procedure. Costly, but benign. They took my pulse, they took my blood pressure, they took blood, they took money. I did a few sheets of paper work prior and they asked me questions about that. It's easier to explain not having knees when they can see for themselves.

So, the result.

I figured the title of the blog alone should garner some attention.

So, how did Piper make me poop my pants, you may ask.

Let me start off by saying it is not entirely her fault. It's not like she gave me some hypnotic suggestion making me poop myself and she didn't play some mysterious note on an accordion that made my cheeks spread apart (For some reason the only instrument I can envision Piper playing is the accordion, she doesn't seem like a harpist to me.)

Here is why my little accident is Piper's fault:

Sometimes I just need to share things and with limited people in my life I wind up blogging on here. I don't know if that is a good thing or just plain sad, I will just leave it at "It is what it is."

I wanted to apologize to the Big Closet community as a whole. I have not been a very good friend of the site. Currently I have two stories that are incomplete (A Pinkilicious Birthday and The Cure) and that is quite poor of me. It's not that I intended to start them and not complete them, but that is what has happened. With being robbed and with the legal mess that I am currently going through, I am not in a good state mentally to write anything. Besides that, a slight change in living arrangements has made me even less inclined to write, but I think that is more of an excuse.

I just got out of counseling. I am one week closer to going on HRT (July 12th or something like that). The question that keeps being asked, and one that I don't have an answer to, is what is the end result of my transitioning.

There are two legal maters that I am dealing with right now; one is a case against me and one is a case against people who stole from me. I got updates on both and figured I would share them. As you can gather, with all the stress I am under, I really haven't had the mental energy to continue writing and I apologize for that. I will continue the cure as soon as possible, but I wouldn't be able to tell you when.

Some people here know my background and many people probably don't. Because it is a matter of public record, I have no problem divulging information. Due to circumstances out of my control, I was arrested back in 2003 and in order to escape 650 years of prison I took a plea deal. Part of that deal requires me to register as a sex offender (which makes my life oh so joyful).

Anyway. I did my time, I finished probation, have been gainfully employed, own a house, have 2 cars, am owned by 2 cats and I thought life would just continue on this way until I died.

In the past, it seemed as if I could knock out 5000 words a day without any problem. In fact, 5000 words was my minimum goal a day when I was working on my novels and those words seem to come with no problem. Now it seems that 2000 words is about as much as I can take and 3000 words is a chore. I don't know if maybe it is what I am writing that is causing such a lack of production or if I have been over extending myself.

I wonder, how many words do most writers get to each day? Is it every day? Every other day? Once a week?

People are probably tired of reading depressing little blogs, maybe as much as I am of writing them. But I do find out that they help.

Most people who follow me know that my Aunt Rosalie died back in September. The initial sting has gone down a little bit, but there are times when I miss her terribly so.

Last night was one of those nights, heading into today as well.

I just put up a new story last night named "The Cure." Several people have jumped to conclusions about the story that might ruin what the story is about and I don't want to do that. Some people have assumed that the cure refers to making someone no longer TG (which I assume is different than doing a body swap or transformation style story). I also wonder if such an assumption has kept others from reading the story, another thing which I don't want.

I have two cats. They are both tabby cats with bushy tails that like to collect things likes stickers and twigs and maybe even small gnomes that aren't fast enough to get away. I got these cats shortly after I got my house because I didn't want to be alone and I knew if I fed them that they would love me unconditionally (on the condition I feed them, so maybe not so unconditionally).

When I was 3, a teenage boy that was living in my uncle's house pulled down my underwear and ejaculated on me (though in my memory I remember it as him peeing on me, I think that's because at 3 that's the only liquid I thought came from there). At that moment I was a victim.

When I was 10, my cousin sexually molested me, causing me to perform oral sex on him, having him penetrate me anally, and finishing off with ejaculating in my mouth (which caused me to run out of the room, into the bathroom and vomiting). At that moment I was a victim.

First of, and this is important, I AM NOT SUICIDAL!!!

I know everyone loves putting up stories and getting comments and input. But with over 12 new stories available a night that always leaves other author's stuff to be further pushed down the page and possibly unread. I have talked to Erin about this, but wonder what others think; I wonder, in the sake of fairness, we limit postings of new stories to one per day per author. This would allow others to stay near the top of the page longer and give readers time to get acquainted to lesser known authors.

If you have been following my blog for any length of time and got around all the episodes of drama, you would've seen that I had started gender counseling about 6 weeks ago. The reason for this was quite simple, I want to know if I am really Transgender, or if it was just some flight of fantasy that let me write some interesting story and gave me masturbatory fodder.

If anyone remembers the Rodney Dangerfield flick you know the reference. But I thought it was appropriate to post here and no one else had.

http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/highschool-prep-rally/keeling-...

As many may know, I have a house. In this house there are two bedrooms. I don't even enter one of them and keep the door closed. With the recent bank fiasco going on, I was thinking wouldn't it be nice to rent the room and have someone I could associate with and maybe have some level of social life. I was thinking I may want to rent to another transsexual, perhaps one who could help me on the journey that I am embarking on. Does anyone know where I could look or post an ad so I can find a tennent.

I'm tired.

I'm alone.

And I really don't see the point in trying to make life work anymore.

There comes a point in a person's life when they have to realize that they are a failure beyond any hope of being anything but a failure. I have come to that point. I have tried to be a good person and help people out, my reward was to be robbed blind. I have tried to be a friend to people, but there is no one around to bulster me when I need it. Those who are sworn to protect and serve simply turned away when I needed help, but were quick to point the finger at the smallest infraction.