Yesterday I came home for work, my roommate was up and about (sort of weird for her, she normally sleeps until noon). She told me she was going out for the day and would be back in the evening to help me with Sunday papers. I told her cool, but she wasn't obligated (I appreciate the help, but every time she comes she has the look like it is utter torture).

There is an elephant in my room. A big, smelly elephant leaving droppings all over the place, but I dont want to see it.

My orange cat has found something new to do to annoy me. She already mastered the art of shitting on the floor if I don't empty her litter pan fast enough, jumping on me and then groomer herself while I sleep, and destroying blinds if I leave her in the house alone without a way out or without a way of finding me to do number 2 on this list.

my appointment is in just 2 hours

One of my co-workers told me I'm kind of an ambassador, which I kinda struggled with as a concept.

The Family Girl Blogs (aka "The New Working Girl Blogs") Blog #48: Saying goodbye: Life lessons from a dead friend To see all of Bobbie's Family Girl Blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/28818/family-girl-blogs

I knew someone - someone from work who I thought of as a friend, but she probably didn't.   She was a pretty brunette, very popular, super smart, outgoing, lots of friends and very ambitious (but in the good sense of the word).  I didn't know her too well, really, and despite having met her face-to-face just a few times, I liked her a lot, and I thought of her as a friend, like I said.   I just hope that she remembered me in the same way, although I think that was a futile hope, given how many people she knew.

Well, last night at work, we were sharing some stories about our respective childhoods, and I talked about snapping and almost killing my stepfather, ending with the statement "I'm dangerous."

I feel i should have started with this question.

I phoned the doctor's office about the stuff they were supposed to send to the gender specialist, and they dont have any record of the stuff at all. Nothing in my file except I came in for a full work-up, nothing else.

I honestly dont know what to do now.

My best option I think is to get the stuff from the gender doc again, go to a different doctor and go through the whole thing again, but considering I suffered a week of flashbacks after the last time, I would rather not.

This.... sucks.

Dark, Darker, Darkest?

That seems to be where my muse is coming from at the moment, with 3 ideas in my head that seem to range from dark, to darker, to darkest.

Ah, well.

I'm writing this 3 weeks after surgery.

Read previous entry here.

September 11 - Surgery Day

"Have you said goodbye to it?" Z asked.

I sighed. "Why do you keep asking me that? I’m not attached to it. Well, um, physically but not mentally."

"Yeah but don't you–it's just–" he shivered as he kind of held his own crotch protectively. I laughed at this and reassured him that I'd be very happy to have it gone, even though much of the tissue would still be there, just, rearranged.

I see the gender doc tomorrow, and for some reason, I'm nervous. It will be the first time I see him since I got my exam, and since my family doc wants me to lose weight, I'm not sure what's going to happen.

Ah, well.

I've been around... off and on... But, there have been some bumps in the road.

Finding the positive:

Here is my day, with a positive spin.

I worked very hard last night at work (I have a job, and they dont care if I'm transitioning)

so anyway …

I'm writing this about two weeks post-surgery. I hope it's useful to some.

Read previous entry here.

Morning came, and with my ablutions done I went to the reception, having gotten impatient in waiting for Jano. On the way down the elevator I saw a man who looked like he was Thai, dressed in semi-formal garb with long sleeved striped polo and slacks. “Konnichiwa,” he said to me, thinking I was Japanese. Hmm, who was that guy? I just smiled since it’s not that uncommon I get mistaken for a Korean or Japanese in my early 20s. Must be my orange hair, eyeliner, and semi-pigtails. Mostly my fashion sense is a mix of Hong Kong and Japanese style, and a little young for my actual age of 28, but that’s just how I am. Being a managing partner of our own multimedia firm and marketing communications lead in my day job gives me certain liberties in my fashion sense. Getting to the reception area at the 3rd floor of the hospital, I quickly got registered and found out that my surgery date had been bumped up by one day, so instead of two days later I was having it the next day. Yay! But that also means we have one remaining day to finish our project.

I'm already 14 days post-surgery, but I thought I might as well post from the day I left my country and arrived in Bangkok. It might be of interest to some.

S Day Minus 2 - Oh my GGG–! PANIC MODE!
"Damn it, why haven't you started packing?" I screamed at Z, my boyfriend and partner of three years.

"I’ll be fine. Some shorts, shirts–it’ll be quick," he shrugged nonchalantly. "How many clips to go?"

Much to my surprise, I have a new kitty; the runt of the litter. She is yellow, with white tufts of hair. She has what look sort of like pixie wings just behind her front shoulders; hence the name Pixie. At 10 weeks old she is so tiny! She's sleeping inside my top right now, under my pull over dress, but over my T shirt, that says,"Run Like A Girl". Right now, I am fantasizing about being preggers. :) I am carrying the baby reall high right now. It will be months until I deliver her.

A couple of nights ago, I was talking at work about my lack of tolerance for alcohol, and said I had only tried it twice.

So I went to write my narrative (for my secret shop today), and out came this instead....

Where are good places to go and what do I need to know, and how much should it cost?

I finally figured out my life, I have all the answers, its so simple that it was easily overlooked and I could just shoot myself for not realizing it early. Unbeknownst to me, I am starring in my own sitcom. Of course I don't hear the laugh track or the theme music because I live this sitcom pre-edit (and with as much as I am cursing lately, it certainly needs to be edited unless I am airing on HBO or Comedy Central). This has to be the truth, because nothing else can possible explain the bizarre, asinine situations I find myself in.