Well, I had a very good night at work, and it helped beat back the negative self-talk I had been fighting with, and that's a good thing.

I'm no Cyclist, and the story I'm writing isnt likely to be as good as "Sweat and Tears", but .... well ... you'll guys see when its finished.

I dreamt of a man last night.

It wasnt a sexual dream, but he was standing in front of me, and I found myself realizing he had the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

Stopped at a McDonalds for a coffee on my way home this morning, and the woman at the till greeted me with "Good morning, beautiful."

Can you guess how happy that made me?

Just a quick note to wish all my American friends here a happy Thanksgiving.

I have a lot to be thankful for.

I'm thankful for my mother,and her acceptance of me as Dorothy

ts my weekend, and boy, am I glad. Two days off, yay!

As if I needed more stress, the little improvised repair job mom did for car finally failed, and now I'm missing a piece of my front bumper. I will have to fix it, no choice, except I dont know how I'm going to pay for it.

Plus, I noticed when I came on today that my friend Kylie has dropped me from her "buddy" list for instant messaging, meaning that I have no way to contact her at all (I have her email, but she can block that, or even change her mailbox, and I will never even know it.) So it finally hit me I've lost her forever, and my heart is broken.

I'm grieving the loss of my friend, and as I do I notice that this is not a straightforward process. It seems like my grief comes in waves, and in between them I almost feel normal, until the next big wave hits.

It almost feels like some part of me knows I couldnt take the whole thing at once, so has arranged for me to have respites to prevent me from being overwhelmed.

Ah, well.

A couple of years ago, when I started working for Zellers, I got a credit card, which turned out to be a mistake - I was not prepared to handle it, and eventually cut up the card.

I am in a spiritual crisis. I'm calling on my fellow Christians here for help. Please PM me, and I'll go into details.

Not every fallen soldier meets his end on the battlefield. Many come home, bringing wounds too deep to heal with them that eventually take their life.

Not my best night last night. First, I was talking with the other person who has had SRS, and while she didnt want to discourage me, she pointed out that most of the girls who have the surgery have higher incomes and jobs that dont take as much physical strength.

While I was still struggling with that, I made some mistakes in putting stuff out and it frustrated both me and my supervisor, which isnt what I want to do considering I'm counting on a reference from her when I go to transfer to a closer store.

A while back, I wrote an entry that went something like this - "I've read a lot of stories here about a boy who becomes a girl, and when he sees the new person he's become, he's amazed (or even aroused) about how good he looks. Well, I dont live in one of those stories"

Apparently, I spoke too soon.

I was getting dressed this morning, and I had put on a cami as another layer in the cold weather, and happened to glance at my reflection.

Then I looked down at my chest, and back at the girl in the mirror, and actually swore.

I'm ... beautiful.

I just got back from taking Samantha's mom home, and had to talk about this amazing moment.

Last night, I was in the back when the old song "You sexy thing" came on the radio, and for a moment, I was filled with confidence. I was able to say to myself, "I'm female, I'm fantastic, and yes, I am actually sexy."

I just .... strutted for most of the rest of the shift, and wow, does that feel good ....