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Tonight I'm going to see the movie "Transamerica" with me mum. I'll post a full review tomorrow. But the big question is how shall I dress? I can't very well have my dad see me. I'll probably just put some makeup on in the car.
Despite the little hints my wife threw out to me about the possibility of reconciling, I'm not changing. I am moving forward. What makes me so angry in the evening is having to be at my folks' house. I feel I'm reminded every minute that it has now been six months since I was thrown out. Six months of living hell. Yet, this past month or so has actually been good. There might very well be some opportunities. But I didn't deserve half of this crap. I still don't call that one friend of mine at whose house I used to stay. I don't speak to him unless he calls me first. I'm still miffed that they opened my mail that came to their house after I left. They claim it was an accident that they opened, and looked at, those last three checks from the movie theatre. My name - drab or femme - is so damn different from theirs, how could they not know? I may be a transsexual but I'm not that stupid, despite anything my wife may say!
What I would give right now for my own place and a laptop computer. When I'm finally alone Meredith will be out all the time. That doesn't mean I'll always be in a skirt. When it's time to relax in the evening I'll be like anyone else - maybe sweatpants, jeans, whatever.
But what I also want to go along with that is a computer. I want to be chained to a word processor. I need to finish some history pieces, wrap up production work on my first book (due out this year!), and work on the Jazz Age book. I've also had a resurgence of my fiction inspiration. I dug up this book of short stories I wrote and will finally start proofreading them, and adding a few new ones that I wrote. That, and those two scripts need finishing. That's what I would be doing every night and all weekend if I only had the tools.
If only.........what two incredible little words.
I did have one little setback. Some time last year I mentioned that these people literally tracked me down and begged me to write for their historical encyclopedia. After I agreed they asked me for additional articles. I wrote six little masterpieces. Yesterday they told me they weren't going to use #6. I should know that these things happen in publishing. Still, my little ego wasn't in the mood for it. I may have insecurity problems, and hate myself a lot, but when it comes to my writing I'm very arrogant.
