The mix on my mp3 player is particularly good this week. I didn’t think about it much, but it suits me so well right now that I have begun to believe in fate again.

The great smallening continues. More rapidly now. Faster and faster, I am shrinking. This morning the scale said 249. I have lost 40 pounds and 4 pants sizes. My new body refuses to grieve for what it has lost. All of my old clothes make me sick. They hang there in the closet, huge and sad. My acceptance of my gender is in full force… I want to be pretty and pretty and pretty again.

::: And I’m screaming at the top of my lugs, pretending the echos are from someone, someone I used to know.:::

Everyone must be sick of talking to me about this. Baa Baa Baa Baa. But I am just getting started. You will have to listen forever because this is far from over.

Someone nice emailed me to thank me for being rad, for being helpful to her. I couldn’t imagine living my old life. I couldn’t imagine not being helpful. I couldn’t imagine not caring about people.

I sound crazy and my mix tape affirms it. The Smiths are my new Belle and Sebastian and I know that is totally whacked. If you are reading this, think about listening to the Postal Service CD… or maybe The Smiths.

:::everything will change:::

Try not to catch cold because November is too perfect a month to be sick in.