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6:45 a.m. - Friday, Jun. 28, 2002
Ms Leslie does her laundry
It�s getting harder and harder for me to call myself isolated and friendless. I may be on the verge of losing the little luxury of being sorry for myself in that regard.

Ann, after being furious with me for spending the night unplanned at Sandy and Kim�s house last weekend and getting her so worked up she began calling hospitals, allowed as how she still loves me. Sometimes it�s hard to tell, since she no longer kisses me and barely will give me a hug. I can�t get her to go with me or even just to drop by to see me. So most of the time, I have to read between the lines with her I guess. She says it�s all due to her own craziness and I believe her. It�s just hard to tell sometimes whether she likes me at all. So it means a lot to hear it from her that she loves me.

Other people, though, are calling me on the phone, just because they want to talk and spend their time with me. Kim was first, I think, when she called to see if I could go shopping with her. Then Laura called me from Baton Rouge the other day. No reason.. just because e-mail is so clumsy and slow, and she wanted to hear my voice. Then last night, Kim called me again for the same reason�. Just to spend some time in my company while she waited for Sandy to come home. And then Joanne, from the BDSM group in Mobile left a trace of herself by signing my guestbook here�. Just to let me know she took the time to read about me and get to know me a little better through what I�ve written. None of them realize what this all means to me. They think it�s normal to seek me out �just because�, or to leave a little note for me. Maybe� hopefully� someday it WILL be normal. It�s just so new right now that it still kind of blows me away whenever it happens. I�m getting what I wanted� a circle of friends. It�s almost scary. It�s getting wider.

I actually have to think now to count them all, and I�m afraid to try to list them because I might leave someone out. I have a ton.. maybe more; I haven�t weighed them� of new acquaintances and some of those are moving up the scale to friends. None of them, except for Ann, has ever really known me as a guy, so it�s really great that they don�t relate to me that way. Most know I�m TS, but that seems to be not so terribly important. They say they could never see me as a guy. They never forget to call me she because they never learned to think of me as he. I try not to mind when family, including Ann and hers, forget and refer to me as he. I understand how hard it must be to make that mental switch. I understand for them, but I wonder if they understand how hard it is for me. It�s a terrible slap in the face each time it happens. It invalidates me. It serves to remind me that no matter how much time, effort, or money I spend to reveal my true self, I will always be defined as a guy by some.. maybe most,, people. I can�t escape my history or my genes. I already know that. I don�t need to be told over and over through the language my friends and family use to refer to me. It hurts.

So.. anyway, my life on the outside was just another boring day. I did laundry and for the first time in a long while, I ironed and put all the clothes away instead of leaving them on the bed and then pushing them onto the floor when I wanted to lie down. I cleaned the apartment up a little bit, and just generally lazed around. I only went out to refill my hormone prescriptions and buy cigarettes. All the good stuff happened inside my head.

Today I go back to the VA eye clinic. The young residents there are always excited to see me. My left eye droops a little bit and they go nuts trying to find out what deadly disease or condition causes that. They squint and measure, they ask me questions and drop cocaine and other drugs into my eyes�. And then they excitedly send orders to Xray and the lab to get exotic scans and blood tests done. Right now, they�re all aflutter over the possibility that I might have an aneurism or a tumor high in my lung that presses against a nerve, causing my eyelid to droop and one pupil to dilate. Last year it was myasthenia gravis. Next year it will be something else. Then, after being poked and prodded by the VA, if my eyes recover quickly enough to let me drive, I�ll go for my hair appointment. My stylist is teaching me something new every week. Stuff that any 16 year old girl should know about taking care of her hair. She�s wonderful and I always come away with a new and interesting hairdo. It�s an expensive education, but it�s cheap entertainment and a high point in my week every time. Afterwards, I�d love to go to the mall again and do some shopping but I guess I�d better hold off. I�ve already spent way too much money this month on clothes, earrings, and pictures. I need to be sure I�ll have the money I still need for surgery and my trip. Bummer. I�ll be all dressed up with no place to go. Maybe I�ll go see a movie or something.

More later.

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