I spent most of last night crying, not a good thing to do when delivering newspapers.

I don't know if it's the hormones or just me. I've been known to cry in the past.

Went out for lunch with my mom, and got a chance to talk with the waitress, and she was telling me about being a tomboy for a long time, and then surprising her male friends when she decided to get girly for a group that had come back from Afghanistan.

Its kind of funny, how many really pretty girls prefer to be super tom-boys, at least for some time in their lives, while I would have given just about anything for the privilege of being prettied up for a dance or whatever.

Ah, well.

One of the novels I love the most in life is Les Miserables. I've read both books, the abridged and unabridged, saw the play on Broadway (which is the only place to see a Broadway play), owned the cd, watched the pbs special from O2, and take a lot at any movie that comes out (one is due on Christmas).

I have been attacked by a nasty little bot that tried to steal my e-mail account. Unfortunately, my 'password reset'e-mail address is wrong, in that I presciently wrote 'mal' instead of 'mail'. I now have a new e-mail address, so those who have been contacting me through it will need a swap. PM me here for details. I will send it out to the usual suspects.

Arsebollocks

To the people who believe that you can be cured of a condition like being transgender, a big part of that is based on the idea that the environment a child grows up in makes the difference in terms of how secure they feel in their birth gender.

For example, they would look at my life, and the lack of any decent male role models, and then sexual abuse by a male on top of that, and conclude that this lack caused me to hate my gender, enough to want to become female instead.

She told me that in order for her to write a recommendation to a doctor, we need to have a good deep discussion about my gender identity? Does anyone have any suggestions for topics I should think about my answers to before hand and bring up with her on Wednesday.

I feel I should point out that I've been seeing her for a while, and that she said we were going to discuss more about my being transgendered.

I will no longer be going by the moniker of Little Katie. Since I keep my transsexualism a secret, I think it is hypocritical of me to refer to myself by that name. Besides, when I came up with the nickname over a decade ago, I did not realize that it would be associated with a certain sub-set which I am not privy to.

Thank you.

Well, after having a painful day at work, I gave up on the shoes and traded them in for a men's pair.

I've been having a lot of flashbacks lately, and its got me thinking about a story I wrote called "I am nine years old"

Here is a link, if you havent read it:

Well I've taken the plunge, just got back from my Docs after asking for a referal to Gender Shrink.

Last Sunday I went out with the 'big-boys' for the usual Sunday morning club ride. Nothing unusual except I was wearing some rather sexy lingerie under my winter cycling Lycra which tends to be heavier and thicker than the lightweight summer kit. The boys do know about me but usually I cycle with the second string group who comprise older men, most of the fitter ladies and me, Bev ...
However last Sunday by an unusual quirk only about 12 people turned up at 10 am so we decided to all go together.

"You up for this Shirley, Bev, Liz?" Asks Spot, the club captain.

I'm sure that nearly everyone here is familiar with the uncomfortable feeling of having to put up with your gender presentation and physical sex not matching exactly at one point or another. For me, it's a problem I used to have a lot.

Then I got fat again.

Been thinking a lot about my attractions to people since I did the "elephant in the room" post, and I found something odd looking back at the girls I had crushes on.

Yesterday I talked about being in the company of another trans girl suffering with a lack of confidence in her looks, despite the fact she is really good looking, and last night, it was like God decided to drive the point home to me.

I sat with some other girls at work on our lunch break, and listened as one talked about her struggles with her appearance, and how even now as an adult she sometimes finds it an issue.

And this is a genetic girl and a rather pretty one at that telling this story.

So I'm going to be needing to do permanent hair removal, electrolysis, to my face. This is supposed to be EXTREMELY painful... I've been holding off on really looking into getting started on it partially because of the cost of the procedure itself when done professionally, and partially because of the added cost of getting myself anesthetized beforehand.

There are products out there for around $20 that can do at-home galvanic electrolysis, so that's not really a big problem if I can just get up the gumption to DIY it...

Last night I went to the pot-luck for our trans support group, and discovered something interesting.

Since I mentioned it yesterday, I might as well tell the story of how I came to run for president of the student council in high school.

I have become a ditz. I don't know if I should blame the hormones because some of the ditziness occurred before I started taking it, but I'll blame it anyway because that's what ditzes do. Unfortunately, the following stories are true:

For those of you who havent heard yet, Jim Sandusky, the former assistant coach of the Pen State has been sentenced to between 30 and 60 years in prison for molesting young boys.

Last night I had a dream, in which I was lost looking for a hospital downtown in a strange city. (I think I was supposed to be working there).

Recently I made a post that was pretty down. I am getting better, working with my GT helps, but still it creeps up on me sometimes. If I made anyone nervous I apologize, overall many of you are better friends than I have in life.

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving, everyone.

I was reading this book about a woman who has a breakdown on my breaks at work, and it got me thinking about visiting my brother in the mental ward when we were both kids.

I finally found a doctor, and all I need is for my therapist to fax a referral
:)
My stress level is down a considerable amount now.
:)