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I have been having difficulty loading this page for some reason, but now I'm back at it. As those who have been following know-namely Monica, Chrissy, and Emma Sweet--this has been a rough summer. In June, I found out that I was losing my job after almost 11 years at PACE Broward. And then, at the end of July, my wife died rather suddenly. She had not been doing well for quite a while, but we always thought there would be more time. The weeks following my wife's death were filled with a crush of friends and retatives offering support and sympathy. We had a final memorial gathering at the house. We had a good turnout and it went well, and then Sunday came and I was truly on my own for the first time in forever. I don't know what got into me, but I didn't waste any time beginning my transformation into Michelle. I presented as a man for my wife, but thre was no need any more. I would still grieve my loss, but I knew this time was coming, and I already had some ideas about what I would do when I was on my own. Besides, I wasn't returning to my old worksite, so people wouldn't know any better. The first thing to go was the moustache. I had been threatening. Although I am close to 75--November--my hair is still brown. The only part that is gray is my moustache which I had to continually keep dyeing with Just for Men to keep from looking like a pensioner. Even then, it still had streaks of gray that wouldn't be covered. What a pain! My wife did say thought at without a moustache, I didn't look like I had any upper lip. In this, she was absolutely right. My lower lip is full enough; the upper lip, not so much. I have since learned to push it with a lip pencil and lipstick. It is what it is. A plastic surgeon could probably enhance my lips, but I don't see me doing that for many reasons. Anyway, back to the topic. I had enough of a severance package and paid leave from work to last me a little while, but not for a whole lot longer. I needed to work to supplement my social security check. I went through all the requirements to substitute teach as a fill-in while looking for a full-time job, but school had not yet started and there wouldn't be any demand for subs until it did. I did have several interviews with schools for ESE (special needs) support, but never got called back. I have good experience and great recommendations, but I have a feeling that my age may have eliminate me. I began to widen my search beyond education--I still did not want to be back in the classroom--but that may change. I would even consider anything that I could do that paid at least $15/hour, but that's not minimum wage yet. Last week, I interviewed with AFLAC to sell accident insurance, but haven't heard back from them either. Then, Ms. Brooks, the ESE Specialist, I worked with from the school district called to tell me that I was expected to sub at the Pompano Youth Treatment Center--a Department of Juvenile Justice detention center for boys--on Friday. Since I had not previously registered with the Broward substitute teaching system, I thought that one had fallen through. Not so. I was told that classes started at 7:15, and I got ready and left the house about 6:20. Even with a major wrong turn on the turnpike, I still was early enough to have to wait in lobby. It turned out to be a pretty easy day. During the first two periods, a chess teacher worked with the boys on their chess.The rest of the morning was taken up with a movie. The boys were respectful. I didn't do a whole lot, but I did get paid for it, so what the hey. Now I find out that I am booked for the next week at a different detention center. I might actually have to do some work for this one. Given the circumstances, I have not ruled out a full-time teaching gig with one of the centers. It actually felt good to be working again, not that I haven't enjoyed or really needed some time off, but it will be a relief not to have to worry about an income. But, in the meanwhile, Michelle came out and has blossomed and will continue to do so. That is not changing. I will never go back to where I was. This is who I am--so world, get used to it. I have to give a shout-out to Andrea, who has become my mentor and guide in transforming into Michelle. The other girls in the CD chat room have all been supportive and fun just to be with. So that's it for now. We'll see what kind of trouble I can get into tomorrow. Stay tuned.:)

So things are starting to happen faster now. We have moved in with my mom as planned, and I am alternating between helping Nikki move things and cleaning mom's house. (Seriously, it took three hours to go through the pantry and get out all the expired food from years 03 to 16). And the rest of the house is insane, but I'm slowly taming it. Mom is getting the better end of this deal, really. Free cleaning and repairs and cooking until we sell and buy a new house. Old house is nearly empty, just a bit more to pull out and then it's painting time. We're still waffling on whether or not to fix the damaged laminate. New car is working out great, old main car is doing great, old secondary car is going to the scrapyard, the costs to fix the brake issue and make it sellable are higher than we could sell it for. Bummer, some extra money would have been nice. It's kinda weird being here again. I lived here with Grandma, my mom, and my son when I met Nikki. I had the downstairs basement finished room, although ever since the big flood it's impractical to use as a bedroom anymore. Which is a same, as it's HUGE and was lovely with lots of space. Only ever had to come upstairs to use the bathroom. I was the hermit Bree in the basement! Nikki's girl mode items are all packed away with a decoy tag, he's still very much closeted as far as our families go. Since he realized transition is not a path for him, dealing with our awkward families is a door he doesn't want to go through. As in most things (other than anything food related, do NOT EVER trust Nikki's judgement with food, trust me) I trust his judgement and respect his choices. And he pointed out I won't be at risk for giving myself a black eye again slapping myself with the breast form. (Didn't quiet get a black eye, but I did have a nice red mark from that oops. Why do they put it in such clingy plastic?) Nikki does have a nasty set of scratches across his back, so I've been teasing him he made a ghost angry that we're leaving. It sounds more fun than I think the cat did it while we were sleeping. I haven't had any really awful burning for a week, had one bad night last weekend, but it's been good since. Nikki's physical health is solidly great, and his dysthymia has been very much under control. He continues on his medication, but the improvements in our life have done wonders also. Once his job is less demanding (they're in the middle of some big changes that take a lot of hours from him) he's going to see about finding a new therapist in our target town and he can just go after work and then come home until we move. He has to start over anyway since his passed and then we went on insurance hiatus. He'd rather do it just once instead of twice. It's sorta amazing how far we've come since last years confusion and upheaval. ​I'm proud of us. Now I have to go continue trying to convince my elderly cat that moving was a good thing and that he should eat some of his food. Dog is loving the adventure of a new house (wish she would stop running full speed into doors though, she's traumatizing ME with her poor banged head) lizard doesn't care. Our lizard is too cool to care.