I feel so giddy at the prospects that this year has I have for this year, and even this decade.

I'm finally going to be me.

I am a woman.

Whee. I am a woman!

I can't stop saying it. I can't stop feeling it. For the first time

I get to be me, and let the world see the me that I've been hiding. I go back to school in a couple of days. It's almost the end of the Christmas break.

Wait, let's start this all out right. I know this is only my personal journal, but I might as well introduce myself a bit.

I'm Grace Kelly.

No, not that Grace Kelly.

I am an actor actress and teacher. I teach drama.

Ok, that was a bit stilted.

For the past year I've been trying to get up the courage to be the woman I always felt I feel that I am.

I've been taking hormones for a year now to try to get my body to look more like my mind thinks it should be.

Apparently, because of that little accident I had as a teenager, my body was better able to accept the treatment, and it allowed for more

The hormones caused my hips to widen, slightly, and I'm growing boobs.

Breats.

Whatever.

Since this is the beginning, I know I never mentioned that I graduated from high school early, but I did. I started a year early in grammar school, and in high school I decided I didn't need a senior year. It's tough being the smallest boy in the class even without a lot of the rumors that were going around.

I imagine that some of them might start thinking I really was gay.

Oh, to be alive and free. Oh, to be myself.

Anyway, I graduated high school at sixteen, and went on to college after I turned seventeen.

And this is the most boring journal I have ever read.

No, it's not a journal. It's my first diary. It even says so on the front.

My Mom bought me a diary.

She also bought me the most beautiful brunette wig. It's just longer than shoulder length. I can't wait for my own hair

I'm so giddy.

I have a full wardrobe of clothing, in my size, and I'm ready to take the world by storm.

I've let the principal know what's up, and we'll just have to see how it all goes.

I want for this to work out

Deep breaths Andrew Grace.

Am I ready for this? I still think of myself as Andrew half the time. Is that wrong? Am I ready for this type of commitment?

I'm just going to call my Mom and tell her that its all just been a mistake. I'll stop taking hormones and

I can do this. I am a woman of strength and I will overcome any fear.

Relax, Grace, it's not as if they'll lynch you for coming to work in a dress.

Will they?

I'm borrowing trouble. Mom always thought that I had too vivid an imagination. I only agree with her when I lose control of it like this.

Ok, so that's all I have to say. Just wanted to start this out on the first day of the first year of the new decade.

I didn't write that much here.

I hope that I can keep doing

So, to anyone who reads this, and wonders, I did start out with a fountain pen, but decided that using a normal ball point would be better. I plan on taking this thing with me everywhere. so we'll have to see what

Two more days and the world gets to meet Grace Kelly for the first time.

Her Diary - 1980: October 24th

Author's note: This is written as if it is being transcribed to digital format from a hand written diary. There is no real diary. This is all my work. I hope you like it.

I am not a woman.

Maybe if I tell myself this enough, write it enough, I will actually start to believe it. I can't allow them to destroy my life again. I will write it every day if I have to. I will repeat it every second.

I am not a woman.

Oh how this phrase cuts me. All my dreams for the new decade are shattered by this one phrase. I can't live

I need to get myself under control. I've lived for twenty five years in this body, well almost this body. I can survive for more. But oh how it hurts.

I need to think of the kids. They need me more than I need to change me. I have always been an excellent teacher. I have only been teaching high school for three years, but the parents and students loved me, or so I thought. They loved the idea of me. The male me.

My car still bears the marks of their 'love' for me. I haven't had the time to fix it. I don't have the money any more. I used my savings for her. I spent all of my energy on her. and now she sits in a storage space in boxes.

Her makeup. Her clothes. My life.

I've written about all this before. My shrink says I need to stop dwelling. My shrink is an idiot. I liked my previous shrink better. New city, new life, more bigoted idiots to deal with.

I saw my breasts in the mirror this morning and wound up taking a knife to myself to try to cut them off. They're still less than an A cup, and since my shrink is still not going to give me another prescription for hormones, they aren't getting any bigger. Do I still want them to be bigger?

Cutting them off felt like it would be easier than binding them down before heading into school every day.

Does it even matter? Do these children, other people's children, matter more to me than my own life? Yesterday I would have said yes. I got a knife out of the kitchen this morning. I stopped when I drew blood. It hurt more than my pain at them being there still.

Maybe I will take a bunch of sleeping pills and never wake up. But these children need me. I need them to need me.

What am I writing? I need to break out of it, but there is nothing

I am

I threw my diary across the room. I am glad that there was no one in here to see me this time. Bending down to pick up the book, I feel the hated bandages on my chest again. I want to be me.

I am not a woman.

But, if I am not, then what am I.

I'm really going through with it. It's not worth it any more. I need to just get those pills. I will get them on the way how, and leave this journal here. It will be my note to the world a proof of

I was interrupted. Writing furiously, and I am sure I had a manic gleam in my eye. A student stopped me, but not through any direct intention on his her part.

Why did she talk to me? What have I done to engender this much trust in a student? I'm just her drama teacher, after all. Well, I did do a pretty convincing reading of Lady Macbeth last week. Thank you voice coach.

But why me? Couldn't she have talked to a parent, or school counselor, or pastor, or someone?

Should I even be changing her gender in my mind? I would have loved if someone had done it for me, so I guess I will have to.

She is a slight little thing. I have noticed her in my classes since the beginning of the year. She was always quiet, except when she was on stage.

Why do I have to always be controversial? I let people pick their own roles, and I have had some female Hamlets and Male Juliets a lot this year. Parents have been complaining. Parents should

Actually, it has been just her and the other girls playing the female roles. I hadn't noticed it. Maybe I am not as observant as I once thought.

She wanted to know if she could try out for Catherine in the fall musical. It is Pippin, so I might be able to convince everyone that it is part of the farce of the show.

At least until they see her on stage.

I told her that it would go to the best girl who tried out for the role. I was going to say person, but I wasn't really focusing on that at the moment. I was thinking of how well she had played all of the female roles she had tried in my class.

That is when she told me that she is just as much of a girl as anyone else. This was more than just someone who was an accomplished actor. She thought herself an actress.

My heart broke for her in that moment.

Life for me was tough, but it would be much more so with her. Or would it?

We talked for an hour. I always leave my door open since

I wrote about that before. I don't need to relive THAT again.

(Transcriber's note: There were water stains on this page which I take to have been tears)

We talked about her cross dressing. I gave her some pointers, which I'm sure I shouldn't have done. We talked about makeup that she had stolen. She had a lipstick some eye shadow.

We went to the cabinet. I looked at her skin tone. Tried a bit on her skin. I gave her some of the makeup from the cabinet. I would replace it later. I convinced her to come to me if she needed more. I didn't want her stealing again. None of my clothing would fit her, or I would have given her some. She said she is stealing that too.

Next week I am running some lessons on makeup. Stage makeup of course, but I can get some general makeup techniques in there. All of the girls could use the help.

Talk shifted to Halloween. She had the perfect costume idea, but no clue how to get it done. She was afraid of going into a costume shop.

I thought for a moment and asked her if I could talk to her parents. She looked scared. She mumbled something about her dad not understanding. I told her I was just going to ask permission for her costume. I told her I could make it for her. She gave me a quick hug which made me uncomfortable. I couldn't have a repeat

She still looked scared, but she gave a timid nod.

I smiled at her, and called her home number. Her dad answered. I told him who I was, and what I did, and told him, simply and matter of factly, what his daughter (I used her boy name) wanted to be for Halloween. He laughed at that, and said he thought it was a really good idea.

I asked him why he thought so.

He said something that shocked me, but I don't think I let it show.

He told me that he had known that his son was trying to act like his daughter. Her mannerisms and choice in reading sort of tipped him off to begin with, but it was when his friend, who managed the local Sears, called him and told him that Andrew (her name) was caught shoplifting some clothing and makeup that he knew for sure. He had set up a tab with his friend after that, and all of his daughter's thefts had been deducted from that tab.

The last thing he said made me understand him a bit, "I think it's a great idea. Either he will look a fool, and the ridicule of his friends will knock these ideas out of his head, or he will pass and they will begin to accept him for who he thinks he is."

I smiled at that. I told her to come back after school and we could get started. I would need to pick one of the other students to measure her. I hate the fact that it is

I forgot to tell her father about the musical. I will have time for that later. He has a really nice sounding None of that, Grace, I don't need another heartache in my life right now, and he's probably a married man. Am I insane talking about myself in the third person, and with my female name?

First bell. The day begins

(Transcriber's note: I need to scan her break lines and use it as an image. They really capture a bit of her.)

That was probably the longest day I have ever had. I feel excitement for the first time in a while. I feel like last Christmas, knowing that I would be opening myself as a present to the world. Before

I won't let that get me down. Nothing is going to get me down.

I haven't made a ball gown since college. Yeah, I made all of the costumes for a couple of productions. I'm awesome.

I talked to Julie in my fifth period set design class and she agreed to stay after school. She drives herself so I knew she would still be able to get home after without

She is measuring Andrew as I write this, and both of them are giggling about it. I wonder

I will not interfere in the lives of others. Especially when they can manage well enough on their own.

(Transcriber's note: There is an ink splatter on the page here. Talking to the writer, she told me that she loved the feel of a fountain pen on paper, and so she always writes her diary with a fountain pen.)

I'm shocked. I knew that they were getting along, but they've concocted something that will might just get Andrew through this in one piece. She asked him to the Halloween dance, and they will be in matching gowns.

After Andrew left, we talked cloth and color. I think that Julie has twigged to me a bit, but hopefully she just thinks I'm gay. The alternative

I don't know that being gay will be better than transitioning, but who knows in this day and age. Especially since my Laney left me last week. Crap.

I will not let this get me down.

We finally decided that having the gowns in the same pattern, but different colors, would be the best. Andrew really wanted a pale yellow, so we decided to do Julie's in blue. They wanted to be noticed. I still had my old wig in storage. I would have to get it out and see if it was still good

Julie has the measurements of Andrew's head. She is smaller than I am. I would have a custom wig made for her. Real human hair. It's expensive, but I can match it to her current hair color.

Julie had cut a lock of his hair.

She is giving me a weird look as I write while we talk. I will pick it up later.

(Transcriber's note: curlicue. I need a better scanner.)

I am home, and I have taken off the bandages. I let my chest breathe and look at my small breasts. They are mine and I am happy they are still there. It was only a shallow cut I made this morning, and I hope it doesn't scar.

Julie's mom went through chemotherapy. She lost her hair and they had given her a wig matched to her hair color and length for Christmas.

I never knew this about Julie. She was always such an upbeat and bright student. She ran the tech crew last year, and I saw no reason to change that for this year. She seems so together, but she cried a bit when talking about the difficulties her mom was going through with her cancer treatment. The doctors are afraid that she is going to die.

I won't let this get me down, because

Julie is

I think that Julie and Andrew can help each other cope with the problems that life loves to dish out. They'll probably just be good friends, but an old maid can hope.

I still think of myself as a woman after months trying to fight it.

I am a woman, and the world better watch out, because I will not let them beat it out of me. I will change this world one student at a time.

I am off to bed. I need to get a new shrink. One student in her time of need has helped me more than the last three months with this quack.

I think I will get my nightgowns out of storage tomorrow.

---

 
The events of the past few hours have been the most terrify the most wonderful and terrifying have validated
Today, I find myself. Today, I step out of the sha

How come I can't just write this?

How come I can't clarify my thoughts enough to tell this story?

I blame Andrew. No, not my student. His father.

Andrew Lee.

Just writing his name gives me a thrill. I need to get a new new shrink.

He kissed me tonight. I felt mys

It was a quick peck on the cheek, but I wish it had been more.

Damn that man, how can he do

Ok, calm cool and collected. I am a mature woman and refuse to act like a teenager.

I got Mrs. Carruther's permission to go as her to the Halloween dance. So, I would be the Principal for Halloween. I figured that would lessen the pressure on Andrew and Julie. The dress turned out beautiful by the way. Julie is probably a much better seamstress than I am. The dresses I will accept the compliments Julie gave me. She loved Andrew's dress.

We ended up with a more daisy yellow than the pale yellow that she originally wanted, but the two primary colors went well together.

I was watching Julie take the lead on the second dance when never more to be damned Dr. Lee walked over. Why did he choose to chaper

Take a deep breath, Grace. He's not here. Why do I want him to be?

"If I'd know you look that good in a dress, there's no way I would have accepted you as a client."

"I think I'm going to have to get another psychologist, Dr. Lee."

"I was only kidding, Grace." From one breath to the next, he both insulted me, saying that no relationship was ever possible, and accepted me as a woman. I hate I need I want Why can't real life be as easy as a romance novel?

Boy sees girl.

Boy loves girl.

Boy and girl are married after two hundred pages of angst.

Why can't I just be that girl?

Once again the esteemed Dr. Andrew Lee knocks me from my path.

I think I said something about that being the reason that I couldn't see him anymore, in a professional manner I mean. Oh, I know what I meant. We talked while watching his son dance. Something came to me that had been bothering me since Tuesday.

I asked him why he had talked about his daughter like he had, when he was reported to be one of the best for people like me. for people who for women who take the long way to for the transgendered.

He smiled a beautiful little smile that melted my and said, "I was reacting as his father, and not his doctor. I decided long ago that I would never counsel my own son."

That was when we noticed that Julie and Andrew were missing. We let the other chaperons know we would be stepping out for a moment, and got a knowing wink from Larry Winters. I think I mentioned him before. He's the metal shop teacher. and I saw him with a visible panty line last week. It makes me wonder if I'm the only normal one in this school.

I have a laugh at my own expense over that comment.

We left the auditorium, but we hadn't yet really begun to worry yet. Just outside the door, we found Julie. Her dress had been torn from the neck to the waste, and she was just getting off the ground. I used a couple of the safety pins I'd put into my pocket for last minute adjustments to fix it as best I could. At least she has halfway decent. There was no way she could wear a bra At least Dr. Lee was here

(Transcriber's note: A paragraph was written here that she had taken great pains to destroy. I doubt I would be able to determine what it was without forensic tools. She used enough ink that it seeped through the page and ruined the next page as well.)

I really need to let that go. It is bringing me down. Julie would never do that to me

Apparently a couple of the football players had approached them at the dance and asked "the new girl" to dance. Julie tried to put them off, but they insisted that Andrew speak for herself. She really needs to pick a more feminine name.

They got a little angry when they found out who she was. They'd said something about "inducting" her to the "real mysteries of womanhood". They covered her mouth and dragged her outside. Julie rushed after them.

One of the two boys had torn Julie's dress when she tried to pull Andrew away from them.

I began to worry. I don't know why the principal of a high school wears 4" heals to school every day, but that made it part of my costume. I took them off. I'd need a new pair of

Dr. Lee grabbed my hand and pulled me after him. "We need to split up." I would have loved to keep

He knew I was right. We went opposite directions around the school. I was about half-way around when I heard him shout. I ran as fast as I could across the grass toward the football field at the back of the school.

I saw a form in the grass that Dr. Lee was standing over. My heart was in my throat as I tried to run that little bit faster. I think I was screaming her name, but I can't clearly remember now. All I really remembered thinking; please let her be all right. If only I'd worn pants

When I got there I saw that it was one of the football players. Dr. Lee was standing on his chest to keep him from getting up and demanding to know where his daughter was. The moron made the mistake He called her a derogatory term. I couldn't stop Dr. Lee before he kicked the boy in the rib. I'm not even sure I really wanted to

"He took her under the bleachers like any other slut!"

I was able to stop him this time. I felt so dirty standing up for this piece of pond sc

My mother gave me a crash course on being a Lady between Christmas and returning to school. She told me a lot of things that I can't remember any more. One thing she told me, however, is that a lady is beyond reproach. A lady never lets her personal feelings prevent her from doing what she knows to be right. I know I need to forgive the boy for what he and his friend did. I know this in the depths of my soul. It is so hard for me this close to what their actions cost.

We ran over there, his hand on mine again. Even in this moment of absolute pain I couldn't help but feel the joy in what was ultimately a casual contact. When we approached, the other boy quickly got up and pulled his pants back up. Andrew was lying on her side in the fetal position. While Dr. Lee tackled the boy, I pulled her dress back down to cover her. She grabbed onto me and cried. I couldn't get her to tell me what had happened, and the boy had hit his head when he was tackled, so we couldn't get anything from him.

We heard the sound of sirens in the distance. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I've been stealing from Sears. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of what you'd think of me. I'm sorry that I did this. I don't want you to be upset with me Daddy."

We tried to consol her, but she was hysterical and unintelligible after that. The police came and tried to arrest Dr. Lee. When I tried to tell them that his daughter needed him, one of the officers said, "What, the fag in a dress? He got what he deserved."

I have to admit that I didn't live up to my mother's expectations of a lady in that moment. I carefully extracted myself from Andrew's arms and walked over to the officer that had spoken.

I wanted to punch him and knock the smile off his face. I ripped into him. I tore a thick bloody strip from his hide, going first up one side, and then down the other. I explained to him reality, and that if he couldn't uphold the law then he shouldn't be an officer of it. I told him that his commanding officer would be getting my full report and that he'd better consider well any actions and comments that he made from that point forward.

"You'd better back down, Ma'am and let me do my job." He'd put his hand to his gun, and his partner yanked him back and dragged him about twenty feet away. I caught the words "bigoted" and "moronic" but that's about it. At the end of it, the officer whom I'd just dressed down threw his badge and gun at the feet of his former partner and walked away.

The other officer came back, and tried to question Andrew, but she was still hysterical. The other boy was just beginning to get up, and so the officer put handcuffs on him and placed him under arrest.

He said he was innocent and that "the little fag" wanted him to take "him" out here. They'd just been getting into it when the psycho had tackled him and almost killed him. It amazes me what people will lie about to avoid being arrested, like a football player admitting

That was beneath me.

Andrew got up off the grass, adjusted her dress, walked over to the boy, and slapped him across the face.

"How dare you suggest that I would lower my standards such to have sex with you."

The officer turned to Andrew, after picking the boy up out of the dirt and brushing him off, and said, "It looks like this hump and my ex-partner were wrong about you, Miss. A boy would have punched him."

I don't know how true that statement actually, was, but it broke a lot of the tension, and made Andrew smile for the first time since they'd dragged her out of the dance. "Daddy, he didn't have time to do more than pull up my dress. He didn't rape me."

The officer spoke up. "Then I guess it is attempted rape."

I know that some of the things I've written here aren't 100% accurate. I don't remember the exact words. These are close enough. I rode in the back of Dr. Lee's car, since Andrew wouldn't let me go. Dr Lee carried her into the house, as she'd fallen asleep on the way over. He didn't want to leave her alone, so he let me stay in the guest bedroom. Oh, how I wish he would come in here and take me

It is now about two in the morning. We had to give our statements to the officer after he put the boy in the back of his car. Julie had called the police after we'd run off after Andrew. They hugged and cried a bit. When Julie's dad came to drive her home, Andrew latched onto me and wouldn't let go.

I know, I am a bit flustered. I keep going over the same segments. I can feel the pull of him through the walls He still has some of her old clothing in the closet and drawers in this room. His wife's I mean. He hasn't spoken about her, but I think she is dead. The room almost feels like a shrine to her memory. Everything that was her is in here.

I wonder again why he wants me to stay here in this room.

He kissed me on the threshold. I considered for a moment turning my head He kissed me on the cheek and told me that there were 'night clothes' as he put it in the dresser. I found one of her nightgowns in a color I liked and put it on. I took off the horrendous blond wig, and got my own wig out of my purse. I still don't know why I brought it. It was a little mussed, so I brushed it out with her brushes. and I cleaned off my makeup with her

(Transcriber's note: Her penmanship is considerably more jagged and there are some rips in the paper for the next section. There are occasional water stains as well)

He called me Clare.

I can't believe he called me Clare. His dead wife's name was Clare. I can hear him trying to talk to me from the other side of the door. I told him to go away, and I do it again while writing this. I locked the door this time.

He called me Clare.

Am I supposed to be flattered? He thinks I remind him of his ex-wife? Oh, so she had hair the color of mine, and a smile like mine. Likely story. He can rot out there for all I care. I don't care how many times he calls me Grace. He tells me he's sorry. Maybe I will I will be strong. The stupid little boy

He called me CLARE!!!!

I might have been able to forgive him for doing it once, maybe, but three times? And the first time after he kissed me? I don't mean that peck on the cheek from earlier. I mean a full blown, on the lips, tongue included, mind blowing kiss. I think I might have

I held him to me afterward, a smile on my lips until he whispered that hated name.

He called me Clare.

I slapped him and turned away. He said it again, "Clare, let me explain, I meant Grace. I mean Grace. Let me explain!"

I shoved him out of the room, and he said it again.

He called me Clare.

Crap, is that him crying?

(Transcriber's note: another beautiful example of a calligraphy curlicue)

Against my better judgment, I let him in. He told me that they'd had a strained relationship before she died. He'd heard me moving around, and his half asleep mind had thought it was Clare packing for the trip again. He wanted to go to her and tell her not to go on the trip.

Apparently this was her favorite night gown.

How could he Can't he see I love him

I can't do this. I don't even have a new shrink. He is a

I can still feel his lips pressed against mine. I want to I need him in my life.

He makes me feel more feminine than anyone else has. I see how he treats his daughter. I know he truly cares for her. I wish he could

I only

(Transcriber's note: The next section is too blurred to get more than a word here or there. She tells me it was a very emotional night for her and she simply broke down at this point. It picks up on the next page)

I have to be strong for myself. I have to be strong for his daughter. I've changed out of her clothing, and back into the suit. It's really uncomfortable to lie down in, but I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much seeing how he looks at me in her clothing, knowing that he can never be mine.

I'll ask for a ride home in the morning, and hopefully I can never see him again. Clare, why did you have to be so perfect for him, that no one could meet your ideal, least of all me?

(Transcriber's note: Another break)

I've changed my outfit I don't know how many times. I keep putting on and removing my makeup. I feel like I have butterflies in my stomach the size of the Goodyear blimp. He asked me on a date. He asked me on a date. Me!

I want to laugh cry and scream and shout and. . .I hate myself for writing this.

He knows who I am, and is under no illusions. There is no way that he is gay like that damned

I came in my guy clothing on Tuesday. I was Mr. Kelley, not Ms. Kelley. He saw me then, yet he accepts me now. Please God don't let him be gay.

I need to be calm. He sees me as a woman. Crap, he sees me as his wife's doppelganger.

I must be positive. I must be calm cool and collected.

I feel like a teenager waiting for her first date to arrive. How come Dan never made me feel this way. That damned weasel. If I ever

Let him like me. I hope this date goes I want I need to get laid!

My mom would be so upset with me right now. I can't tell her about all of this yet. She'll tell me I'm putting the cart before the horse right now, but I really need I want

Please let him kiss me again like when he dropped me off this morning.

What's wrong with me? Why am I like this? It's not so much that I need the physical contact, which is nice. I like the way he makes me feel small. He makes me feel petite. He is over a foot taller than I am. Have I mentioned that before? Crap.

Changed shoes again. Thought a nice four inch heel would help me to be closer to his height. I won't be able to run, if needed, but hopefully

Doorbell. Wish me luck!

(Transcriber's note: Lipstick kiss on the page in a pretty shade of dusky pink)

It's late, so I'll have to be quick about it. I am tired from the past two days. No, I didn't get laid, and I wonder now why I was so keyed up earlier. Might be the new hormones that I was prescribed. I'm definitely going to need a new shrink.

It seems that Andrew has a thing for doorways. Three times he's kissed me through them. Of course the last two times completely curled my toes.

I called my Mom earlier and the first words out of her mouth were, "So, you've finally found the one, huh?"

I don't know how she does it. It seems that she just always seems to know when big things happen in my life. She already knew that Dan had dumped me, but I already told you that story.

We talked for almost four hours about Andrew and his daughter. My Mom wanted me to be careful, since it would be all too easy to fall into the shoes of his wife. I told her that it wouldn't be to bad if I did, and she got cross with me. She used my full name. Grace Marie Kelley. Did I ever mention that she gave me a middle name a few months ago? She said no child of hers would be caught dead without a middle name. She never stopped calling me Grace, even when I was pretending not to be Grace.

I don't know what I would ever do without Mom.

I am calm, cool, and collected now.

We went out to eat, just the two of us, and then he took me back to his place. Andrew his daughter and I played some board games. It was the best date I have ever been on. Marie and I had a private conversation. She told me that she wanted to be called Marie, and I told her that Marie was my middle name. We laughed about that. She told me that she liked me better than her father's other girlfriends.

She looked happy to be in her girl clothing around her father. He's told her about the tab he had, and that she should use it for whatever she needs to be the girl she feels she is. She apparently went shopping while we were on our date.

He called me Grace all night long. At one point we even danced to the radio in his front room. Marie snapped our picture, and we had a fight over the camera. Then I insisted I get a picture of her. I don't know what I'm going to do about Marie on Monday. I'm the only drama teacher in the school. Can I keep my personal and professional persona's different?

I think that Marie might be angling to be a bridesmaid sometime soon. How do I tell her that it's likely to be more than a year before Carts and Horses, Grace.

I love you, Mom.