I don't know if I have ever shared this, but I do have some strange obsessive-compulsive tendencies. I'm not a typical OCD person, since I am a slob, but I do have a few rituals that seem a little wonky.
 

Well, my mom almost let things slip out with my daughter. She bought me a Dorothy outfit, and came back just as I was feeding my daughter. She then pulled it out and asked me to try it on while my daughter wondered why she had bought me a skirt. Fortunately, my daughter has very short attention span, so probably not much chance she will be telling her mom. Maybe its time I came clean, but I would rather be working in case she makes me fight to see my girl.

Well, my muse refuses to give a lot of details about what she's been up to - just some hints about snogging some girl named Pippa at a wedding .... But, now that she has recovered from a hangover, she is pouring ideas into my head at a furious pace. Its too bad my daughter doesn't type, maybe I could offload some of my workload .....

I'm sitting here, with tears in my eyes, and shaking so hard its hard to type. Wave upon wave of self-hate is hitting me, and I'm not sure I can swim. I am battered on all sides with self-doubt, one moment fearing that I could be a woman someday, and then a worse moment when I wonder if my sister-in-law is right that I am just .... rejecting my male identity.
 

Well, it seems that my muse has departed for parts unknown, leaving at least one story started and stranded. I hope she comes back soon .....

Well, I just came home from the gender specialist, and I got the green light to work toward the real life test. He gave me a "carry letter" so I can use female washrooms, and a prescription for testosterone blockers. Now, if I only can find a job .....

Had an interview today. In boy mode, sadly, but I need work too badly to kick.

Well, happy Easter, everybody. I'm getting a rare chance to go to church as Dorothy, so that's good. I'll give an account of how it went when I get back.

Well, I'm officially the luckiest woman alive, and forget Fluke. My girlfriend Kylie has graciously taken me back, and life is good. Now, onward and upward I go .....

Well, I just got a phone call for an interview on Monday. Now, though, I have a moral dilemma. Do I mention my trans status and risk not getting hired? Or do I lie, and have to live with that?

Well, "Rock Star Makeover" is wrapped up, and I want to thank everyone who took the time to comment or leave a kudo. Thanks to all of you. For those who prefer to read a story in one sitting, the whole story is up on Fictionmania, if you want to check it out there. But I want to give fair warning. Although this story was "sweet/sentimental" and I'm happy with that, dont assume I'll always produce that type from here on. I have some dark corners in my head, and at some point I may go into them through my writing.

well, I decided I needed a pick-me-up, so I went to the unemployment office dressed as Dorothy. I was served without a comment or even a blink, so that was fun. But, after I left the office, and went to my car, I was stopped by a man, and told I looked nice. I thanked him, and he confessed he was a cross-dresser. I was going to tell him I'm not, but he recognized me as transitioning. A bit of an odd experience, especially when he ended our conversation by saying he was going to go buy pantyhose. TMI, as far as I'm concerned. Ah, well.

Well, I managed to do something so stupid and almost impossible that I'm wondering if God is trying to tell me something. I managed to lose my only bra. And since I am a "special" size, it would take somewhere in the range of 50 dollars to replace it, I'm devastated and discouraged. Unless I get a miracle, I wont be going out as Dorothy again any time soon. All this gloom is slowing me down in writing "Rock Star Makeover", so I'll put up part 10 today, but I don't know when any more will be coming. Sorry.

Well, I had an unusual incident at a local McDonalds. I was taking my ex home from her 2nd job with my daughter in tow, when she asked if she could pick something up. I had no objection, so we went. I was waiting in the car with my daughter while she went in to get her stuff. While I was waiting, this young man came out, and he had a "wet floor" sign under his jacket, and he started to walk away. I did something totally out of character for me. I got out of the car, and asked him what he was doing. I basically shamed him into returning the sign.

Anybody who has followed my blog here probably can tell that I have, on occasion, struggled with negative self-talk. I'm starting to realize how much this has held me back. It becomes as self-fulfilling prophesy, where I make mistakes because I expect to make mistakes. Its not going to be easy to get rid of a habit that ingrained, but I have to, if I want to make any progress. So I'm asking everyone here to help keep my accountable. If I start whining and feeling sorry for myself, give me a boot in the back of the skirt, okay?