During my last down period, several Christian friends remind me of the meaning of the name Dorothy - A gift from God. During dark times, its hard to see myself in that light, but every once in a while I get a little bit of a reminder that yes, I'm a gift, a special creation, loved and cherished in ways beyond my meagre understanding.

I dont know if I will ever know all the answers to the "why am I like this?' question, but I can trust that there is a reason, a purpose for me being the person I am, and that said purpose is a good one.

I feel like I'm slowly getting stronger again, and its a good thing. I might need the extra energy the next two weeks as I'm going to a new store to help get it set up. Being with strange people, wondering how well I'm passing, trying to work in an unfamiliar store - it could be very interesting ....

For some reason, I'm on a "hair trigger" in terms of flashbacks at the moment, dropping into shaky moments at the drop of a hat, often without any trigger that I know about.
Pray for me, please.

I forgot to talk about my visit to the doctor's today. My old family doctor had retired, so I saw his replacement. I gave him the Cliff Notes on my situation, and he gave me a total physical. He had a nurse there for dealing with my fiddly bits (partially because I told him about being abused, I suspect, and partially to honour my preferred gender.)

The worst part was getting a rectal exam, which was as horrible an experience as you might expect for someone who has been raped like I was.

The above is the name of an old movie, and it feels like I'm living it right now. My back yard had become basically one huge web except for the small area where we let the dog go out to pee. And any day now I expect that part to get covered too, and we'll have to fight spiders for my puppy ....

The last couple of days I've really been fighting depression, and I'm not sure why. Yes, my computer is frustrating me, and yes, I'm anxious about what my doctor will say about my chances at surgery, but this seems something beyond either. hope it lifts soon.

Well, I'm back online, sort of. My brother put together an old computer for me to use, so I'm at least able to access most of what I used to. Unfortunately, Google docs is the one site that isnt working for me, so it will be a while before I have a new story ready, but ah, well.

Now for the big news!

I got a call from the gender doc's office, to go in and sign some forms saying yes I do want SRS, and now I have to go to my family doctor and get a physical and make a letter for the docs in Montreal who would be doing the surgery if all goes well.

Well, I no longer have a computer. I tend to leave my computer in "sleep" mode because it has some problems with rebooting. Until last night, when a storm managed to knock the system for a loop, and nothing I've been able to do has brought it back. Sorry folks, but that means your not gonna hear from me much.

I had a bit of a frustrating experience yesterday, but as a result I managed to make some progress in dealing with my tendency to have negative self-talk.

What happened was this: I got ready to go to work last night, and somehow managed to lose my keys just before I was set to go. A frantic search with my mom turned up nothing, leaving us both frustrated and upset, but finally there was nothing I could do but take my spare keys and head out.

My brother and sister in law came over last night, and she saw my nails and was less than impressed with them. Not that I wanted painted nails, but my color choice was not a wise one, according to her. She said most women learn colors and age-appropriate styles in or before high school, because, in her words "teen girls are the most vicious creatures on earth".

I can still remember the first crush I had. It was in 6th grade, and I sent her love notes using the name "little Neutrino" until the day I brought in the Klattu album where that name was from, and found out she had been sharing the notes with other girls.

After that, I was a bit more careful about my crushes, making pretty sure they never knew how I felt about them. Which was good, because I tended to pick girls who where 1 - in serious relationships, 2 - straight, and therefore not likely to swing my way, and 3 - totally out of my league in any case.

Had a very funny moment at the bank today. Went in to get some cash out for my mom, and the teller starts asking me my address and phone number, and suddenly I realize she is seeing my male name come up on the card and I'm wearing a skirt. So I tell her I'm transitioning, give her the information she needs to verify I'm me, and I get my cash.

Makes me wish I could afford to do the name change, but ah, well.

At least I got a funny story out of it.

Well, today is the 25th anniversary of the Edmonton Tornado, pretty much the worst natural disaster to hit this city at least in my lifetime. I managed to be out of town the day it happened, but the stories from family and friends about that day continue to move me all these years later.

Here's hoping there isnt another event like that in my lifetime here. Once was lots.

The above is based on an old song by a group called Garbage, and its about my general attitude in life. I was mentioning the other day to a friend about how ... easy my transition is going, and she said "What? Did you want it to be harder?"

Then in a conversation with my mom, I mentioned about passing, and she said, "maybe you want more attention, and are sorry people arent noticing you, even if that meant they were mean."

Well, I took my bottles in for the refund, and as I often do, I use that as "mad money" to do something nice for myself. Today, I made enough to go get a mani-pedi done, and it was a wonderful experience. Instead of the place in the mall I had tried before, I went to a little place in a strip-mall, and they treated me like a princess from start to finish, including the girl telling me that she almost missed me because she was looking for someone transitioning, and I obviously was a regular girl. (Okay, so it was probably for the tip, but what the heck.)