I know I've been a bit of a Negative Nelly lately, and as good as it might be to get those kinds of feelings out on paper (or on computer screen, as the case may be, its past time for me to start focusing on the positive. So, I'm going to list all the things for which I am grateful.

This can be the worst time of year for people like me, who are trans. Far too many of us are either rejected by our families, or forced into the closet to please them, and that stings even more during this season, which is often seen as "family time." How can we endure it? More specifically, how can I?

Been struggling with a feeling of impending doom the last couple of days, which is why I wrote "Five years gone". Not sure why, but it might have to do with the stress at work and getting some negative feedback over my speed there from my supervisor. I hope I can get through this feeling, but much more importantly, I hope the doom doesnt happen.

I had an interesting moment at work. A customer was waiting for service at the jewelry counter, so I paged for a cashier person to come over. As I was walking away, his wife came up, and said she had had no luck finding someone to help them. Then the man pointed at me and said, "She paged for us."

"She."

This was no sales person hoping for my business, nor even a co-worker with an obligation to be tolerant, but a customer, a stranger.

I bought a 3 dvd set of Jim Henson movies: The dark crystal, Labyrinth, and Mirrormask. They are incredible, and its interesting that two of the films have teen girls as the lead characters. Its also kinda interesting how much I could identify with these two girls, and how much I learned from them. Just one of those things, I guess.

I know most trans-people try to be as stealth as possible - some going as far as changing towns to escape from their past as the opposite gender. But for me, because of my circumstances, this simply isnt an option for me. I have no choice but to be up front about who I am and what I'm doing. There are many times when I wonder what it would be like to be treated as a woman, full stop, but I doubt that will happen. Ah well.

We got a phone call from my aunt Pat last night, saying that her eldest son has cancer. Apparently, he had some before, and was cured, but the new one isnt the same as the old. I guess he is estranged from his dad, and Pat is angry that the boy's father cant put aside their differences because he's sick. It reminded me of the rest of my family, who have taken the ability to hold a grudge and perfected it into an art form. One of these days I should find a way to come out to them, but as they are not part of my life much, if they reject me, I dont lose much. Ah, well.

Of all the aspects of myself that give me trouble, (which are many, and profound) the one that is on my mind at the moment is my ongoing internal narration. I seem to have an author within, recording and commenting on my thoughts and actions from a third person perspective.

I believe the medical term for this is disassociation.

I'm having trouble figuring out my ex. Yesterday, after the Christmas do at my brother's, I took my daughter home, and since I didn't have to work, I came into my ex's house for a bit. While I'm there, my ex starts playing with my hair, complimenting me on its softness and length, and making suggestions to help cover up my bald spot. Then today, when I was dropping off my daughter, she noticed I now have pink gloves, and gave me the third degree for their color. Like I said, she confuses me.

Well, I'm going to be stuck in boy mode tonight, as my daughter and I will be going over to my brother's place and helping them trim the tree. It was really nice of them to think of inviting my daughter, so I'll keep the girl stuff to a minimum.

This one was one of those stories that went in a different direction once I actually started writing it. Once I saw one of these angels at my work, using one as a springboard to a story just seemed natural. The only question was, what kind of story?

I had a funny moment at the bank today. I went in to get cash for my mom, as I am now paying rent here, and the clerk took my card, looked at the male name, looked back at me, and went "But... but.. your hair, your ....." So to save her, I told her I was transitioning, and the card was in my legal name. She got the money for me, and I thanked her for making my day. Funny, yes?

Sounds like a car pool, doesn't it? Well, in this case Stu is for Stewart Copland, Andy is Andy Summers, and Gordon? Gordon Sumner, AKA Sting. I had The Police going full blast all the way home this morning, and just sang along as I drove. Fun.

Well, I've got my new glasses, and I feel pretty good about it. They are ladies, but not so fem I can't wear em around the ex, and I think they look cute. Much happiness.

I am a girl by sufferance. I was not born a girl, didnt have a girlhood to learn the nuances of being a girl. I do not believe I really "pass" as a girl by any objective standard. So I am a girl by sufferance. My girlhood can be taken from me by words - "Him", "Sir" or my male name. It can be taken from me by actions - isolation, rejection, contempt. No "natural" girl will ever know what that feels like, to be "tolerated" like I'm some crazy person that no one has the energy to argue with.