Well, if I needed proof I've got the best mom in the world, I got it yesterday.

There is a new Katie Leone book available on Amazon and it is going to be a little bit before the next one comes out. I try to stagger longer works and shorter works in order to keep my sanity. I am still recovering from Unreachable but it is time to move on. Plus, I am also going to be doing the biography at the same time, so that will slow things up a little more.

As I woke today I found myself thinking, and what I thought was "I can't remember the last time I had a nightmare".

Well, my ex has managed to do something I never thought she'd do - she apparently is using my male name is a a pejorative.

Well, the last couple of days have brought some bad news, but also some good news, so here is an update:

Well, last night at work was rather interesting. For the last while I have been working on and off as night maintenance at work, and last night they asked me to train a new person for that job. When I met him, I was slightly curious to notice that his name tag said "Jennifer", even though he was not in any way feminine.

I asked him about the name, and he said his father had given it to him, and giving female names to male babies happened quite often in his country, the Philippines.

Ever have one of those days where you just want to slam your head into the wall? The past few weeks I've been running around trying to find another job since Home Depot fired me over injuring myself in an incident I could not avoid. when the incident happened I informed a manager as soon as I realized something was wrong and 4 days later I was fired. that was nearly a month ago.

I'm sitting here totally shocked. I've been talking to Jaci and she told me that she's been talking to my mom, who apparently told her that she "didn't raise me as a boy." She went on to say she didn't force me to be a girl, either she just "raised me to be Dorothy." I really don't know where to put this piece of information. I'm ... just ... stunned ...

I would like some opinions on a question.

Should I name my fears?

What I mean is should I say here what I am afraid of?

My recent pregnancy dream got me thinking about something: When I was a teen, I had a gf and we had a mutual friend who later came out as gay. One day, and I think it was completely out of the blue, he asked, if one day we (me and my gf) were still together and decided to have kids, and if it were possible for me to have the pregnancy, what we would think about it. I said I wouldn't be interested, which was sincere but I also found the idea unsettling. He then mused that given pregnancy required massive doses of female hormones it would probably be a bad idea even if possible.

my last story didn't turn out as well as I would have liked. Would like to figure out why I'm regressing in my storytelling ...

I don't know exactly when it is that I gave up, but it seems very difficult to find that will to fight that I once had. It has cost me greatly: it has cost me health, freedom, and happiness.

Had a funny moment yesterday getting an oil change for my car. I was waiting in the lounge when a guy came in with a clipboard containing paperwork and a set of keys. He saw me, and continued to look around the lounge, and realizing I was the only one there he looked rather confused.

Finally, I said to him, "Is that for my car?" He looked at me, looked at his sheet and asked tentatively "T...Todd?" I smiled and nodded and he gave me the keys.

It seems clear to me that he saw me as a woman to the point he couldn't believe my male name belongs to me.

This spring or summer I want to go camping in the Oregon Outback and have found a place that is at least 40 miles from any urban lighting, on a plateau of some 5000 feet, in isolated solitude. In my youth, I loved amateur astronomy, and once had a small reflector, so plan to resume that hobby once again.

In the mean time, I must find ways to prevent any lights from coming on in my car, or cover them in red cellophane. Any camp lights I have must be red also.

It is really hard to say this. I am finished with religion, particularly the Mormon Church. I feel so sad because I actually believe in the Mormon "stuff" too. They have been really loving and kind to me and I healed of so much stuff and pain.

It has been a while since I've updated my blog. The second operation, which was supposed to repair the first operation, went much worse than my first. The doctor has literally ripped me new asshole. He tore two holes through the thin section between the rectum and vagina. For about a month some of my poots were coming out my vagina, which was not good. I was prescribed industrial strength antibiotics the day after surgery and did frequent follow ups. Looks like I'm through that part OK. Needless to say, it hurt (still does a bit).

When the system was being a little flaky, a number of messages and such were lost, vanished into the ether. So when I went to review the advice and such that I got, I found a lot of nothing.

I've been fully living as a woman a little over 9 years, but I know other girls here who have been at it for 15 or 20 or more years. Interestingly, if we aren't too self destructive, it is said that T girls live longer owing to the absence of Testosterone. I hope to see that played out in some of you.

Those who know me see me as this tough lady who is blunt but loving. A couple people that know me seem to want to take care of me and protect me, and I actually do enjoy and am thankful for someone caring about me.

Anybody Irish reading my blog? I have a story idea that takes place in Ireland, and I would love to get some basic facts right ...

I ran into another snag with my insurance company.

I'm trying to keep a lid on the "drama queen" stuff, but I do need to let you guys know I'm struggling keeping tears in check today. I don't know if its the flu I'm fighting, or the fact I think I strained something in my stomach at work last night, or the fact that I forgot I was supposed to go over to a friend's for supper last night and am beating myself up over it, or if its my hormones or if it's my bipolar thing, or if its a combination of the above, but I'm not doing well right now.

All hugs, good wishes, and prayers are appreciated.

I love having long hair. I love the way it moves, the way it feels, and how feminine it makes me feel. Unlike many people, I never dared having long hair when I was trying to be a boy, so all of this is new to me. Maybe someday, the novelty will wear off, and I will be tired of pushing it out of my face, but until that happens, I am gonna luxuriate in my long hair, and be so grateful I took the chance on letting it grow.

I have a couple of question for my readers:

I am in some pain today, and its worrying me a little.

First, my right knee feels off, and I've had trouble supporting my weight (not that my weight is feather-like, or anything).