I was hosting/emceeing an anime event at a mall yesterday when one of the contestants in the cosplay (costume play) segment asked, while waiting for his turn to go on the catwalk, whether I had joined any pageants because I was pretty and had a good voice. Though I agree on the voice part I didn't believe the pretty part. I know I look okay, but not good enough for pageants. The guy asking has had some fame (or infamy) in our country because he has had multiple surgeries to look like Clark Kent / Superman. He also happens to be a trainer / coach in beauty pageants.

You know, not that long ago, I would be moaning over my status as being somewhere between male and female. But I seem to have found a kind of peace about where I am right now. Good thing, since this is the level that I will probably be stuck at for the rest of my natural, since surgery is out of my reach.

Sure, it would be nice to be able to go to the pool without being a freak, but that's life.

I'm Dorothy, and I dont need no stinking surgery to know that.

Well, I've written a little epilog to "Six Forty-Five", and I'll publish it tomorrow. With that little piece of business out of the way, I might be able to get back to focusing on my "Quest" story. Hopefully, it will be a bit more popular ....

Meanwhile, I feel a lot better for having written this, so at least in that way it hasn't gone to waste.

I talked with two of the people i was resisting telling about my forward momentum today. My Eldest Sister and My Father.

A short poem i wrote about 6 years ago. i hope you enjoy it.
Diana

So yesterday a telemarketer called my cell phone -again-. I really wish I could figure out a way to get that to stop... Anyhoo... I answered it with "Hello", and they asked if they could speak to my male name as though there was no way on earth he was already speaking to them. I said speaking. And they were seriously shocked. They asked, in a disbelieving tone: Are you really Andrew? As though there was absolutely no way on earth I could possibly be Andrew.

My story scrolled off the front page today. It is still part of Short Story Month - February 2012,, which ends soon. I did not put a teaser on the story, which means it does not show up there, and when I looked on the Stories it is deeply buried.

The Family Girl Blogs (aka "The New Working Girl Blogs") Blog #32: I'm a Hot Girl To see all of Bobbie's Family Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/28818/family-girl-blogs

I am one hot girl.   And you know why?   Coz it's ninety-four degrees over here.   Heehee.

And people say I'm cute, too (joke!).

I was shaving today, and as I tried to get rid of some more of the hair on my chest, I could see (and feel) some development in my breast area. Then I put on my shirt, and I could see my nipples sticking out and thought "My God - I've got real boobs at last !"

Needless to say, I'm pretty happy about this.

Reading Karen Bishop's story has had me thinking about memory - especially my memories of my abuse. For most of my life, I had little conscious recall of what happened to me, mostly it was something that I only had flashes and nightmares about. Now, I can remember, and I think that's better, but its been a painful journey, and I'm not done yet.

Ah, well.

There comes a time, as we approach our transition that we have to tell our Bosses. Well, I reached that day, today. *sighs*

I'm really struggling with the voice of self-criticism. Every mistake I make lately is being magnified to something terminal, and I dont know how to turn off this voice.

Help?

During my little "TG-PMS" time, someone said to me my writing comes across as very female. I'm wondering, in what way? What makes a woman writer different from a male one?

I'm not depressed, exactly, but I feel like ... I dont know. All my life I was stuck in boy world, with my face pressed against the glass looking in at girl world, so envious I was salivating like a starving person watching people enjoying a five star meal. Now, I at last found an entrance into that land, but I wonder if I will ever be seen as anything but an immigrant. Will I ever .... just fit in?

Real life gets in the way again. I'm starting a new job in another city and will be moving. As a result, I won't be posting any new stories for the time being. I may have a little time to write, but for now, I'm one gone girl.

See ya in a couple of months!

Cindi

h'okay so... I am massively stressed because one of my classes is so stupid hard you just cannot believe it. Psychopharmacology taught by a Neurobiologist who has never taught this before is... an experience. I am learning a hell of a lot but OMG.

On the radio today, I listened as an announcer read out the transcript of a statement made during the sentencing hearing for Graham James by NHL star Theo Fleury. For those who dont know, James raped Fleury repeatedly while acting as his hockey coach when Fleury was a teen.

I know I shouldn't have listened, but I just had to hear what he said. Even if it hurt, because in some ways, he was speaking for me too, since I will never be able to do so in a court of law about my rapist.

But, dont worry. I'm okay.

I hope.

Just got back from breakfast with my mom. I was in pants, sweater, and coat, no wig, and the server said, "what can I get you two ladies?"

Nice. Felt good.

Hi folks.

Well as you know - or maybe you don't, since my car accident last year, things have been a little odd up top for me; you know, forgetfulness, lack of concentration etc, etc.

Odd things have been happening, but usually they have simple explanations and usually, it's down to my head playing tricks on me.

Not this time.

Well, today is Family day - a provincial holiday here in Alberta. The ironic thing is I dont have mine - Mom's working, and Sam is with her mother. I just tried phoning them, but Sam was in the shower as they had just got back in the door from swimming. I've been thinking a lot about relationships. The fact is, much of our identity is tied up in our relationships to others - we define ourselves as someone's child, or someone's spouse, or what have you. And whether I want mine to or not, they will all change as my gender changes.

First, the fantastic part. A friend from my trans support group had heard I was struggling with feeling ugly, and invited me to come to her house for a bit of a makeover. It was absolutely amazing what difference a pretty blouse, a new hair style, and some lipstick could make. Then she listened to me as I talked about my situation, and helped me with the memories of my rape.

You know, there comes a time when things seem to happen REALLY FAST. It sometimes feels that way for me about now...

There was a little girl who happened to look like a little boy. His parents didn't knew any better, so they gave her a boy name, and took her home, and raised her as a boy. Eventually, people would have figured out something was up with her, but just at the point where she was starting to figure it out herself, something horrible happened to her.

Today started off with my doctor measuring my weight and telling me I'd lost another 13lbs in 8days. This after I'd lost 13lbs all month prior to that. I was dancing off the walls!!!