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Thursday, October 30, 2014

Trans Thoughts & Reflections: Sophie Lynne

Today we are featuring the thoughts and reflections of Sophie Lynne, a 48 year old (she is not shy about that) lady from a suburb of Philadelphia. She has her Bachelors and Masters degrees in Education from Penn State, and she is trans. Sophie lives full time now as a woman and you can follow her story and catch up at her blog, A Woman Named Sophie.

The Trans Experience

Sounds like a bad 60s band. “Now opening for the Strawberry Alarm Clock, please welcome Trans Experience!

Yet this is my Life now. I am a trans-person. And while each of us has their own unique journey, we still share many aspects. For example, many of us knew we were TG from childhood (I personally was four when I knew.)

Another bit we have in common is that most of us have experienced the whole “I’m better than you” from other trans people- usually when we’re just starting to go public. THIS video really sums it up nicely.

Do we have anything else in common? Yes- something I call “the Pink Hangover.” This is the feeling when one is a part time woman and has to go back to being a guy. Ugh that horrible feeling! (I have no idea if FTMs get this. Can anyone clue me in?)

Another thing that many of us have in common is something I call “the Darkness.” Suicidal thoughts. Pain. Pain seems to be what we ALL have in common, no matter where we are on the vast tapestry of Gender. And the Darkness… well, I don’t wish it on anyone.

I don’t wish being TG on anyone.

But here I am. Transgender. (I won’t get into a semantic argument on my terminology btw. Live with it.) I am a Woman with boy bits.  I’ve lived with this all my life. I’ve had dear friends with the same condition kill themselves, and I miss them dearly.

So what is the Trans Experience?

It’s what you make of it.

Let’s face it- life dealt us a nasty hand. We were born very different from the norm. And you know what? That’s ok. We are Special, and we should appreciate that. Is it easy? Hell no! But in the end, is it a life worth living?

Well if we wish to go there- is ANY life worth living?

I say it IS worth living. Steel is forged by fire (cliché I know) and we TGs have been through some Hot fires. Not as hot as a soldier, to be sure, but we are truly Steel. And many TGs are/were soldiers who needed to purge the femininity from their souls. Doesn’t work though. It never does. It is who we are.

We who survive are Strong. We have to be, just to survive. To conquer the Darkness. Our armor is Thick. It must be to deflect the jeers and insults hurled at us by knuckle draggers and people who think us perverted and/or evil. Our limbs are strong from treading water to keep from drowning in our sorrows.

We are Beautiful, because we are who we choose to be. We EARN our womanhood, and we prize it dearly.

In the end, is it a life worth living?

I can say that living as the Woman I was born to be has brought me Peace. Yes, Peace. That which eludes us as all the Pain, the Fire, and the Darkness consumes us. To come through all of that… and find Peace… is really all any of us can ask.

I have no illusions; this will be a hard life. But I will follow the lead of all my Sisters who walked the path before me, and walk with my head held high- proud of whom I have become.

I am a Woman. I am Me.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Sunshine, my very own personal shopper, and a little prick

......A little prick?

This is just a happy and cute post from Leigh Ann.  I see that she only has two followers (myself and Halle), so help her out and join her blog.  

Go here for the post.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Trans Thoughts and Reflections ~ Caroline

Caroline is my very good friend. We correspond regularly but have not yet met. She lives across the pond you see. 
It feels a bit strange actually remembering that we began corresponding because we are trans, since we don't often mention anything to do with that now. It is of course, a shared experience so it is something that everything might be filtered through. 
Caroline authored the blog TIME REGAINED and before this week's postscript, her final entry there was eight months ago. Hers was one of those that helped me to understand I was not crazy having the feelings and desires I did five years ago. 

Anyway, I was so happy to open her letter and see that she had "tapped out" these thoughts on her past to share with you. 

~ Postscripts From the Other Side ~

Woke up, fell out of bed, 
Dragged a comb across my head 
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup…

A random couple of lines from a Beatles song which drifted into my head whilst thinking about T Central, the recent past and my life now.

How do you get over to a world full of people who just wake up, get out of bed and live their lives without a second thought about who they are or what role they will play in the world, that we have never had that luxury? 

For a special group of us, for most of our lives that was just an impossible dream. Instead, each day we woke and played out a role to suit the world around us: 
A life and death performance day after day living in fear of being found out and ostracized. 
A life laid out by our appearance not our souls. 
A role set by a brief glance at our anatomy at birth and branded on to the paperwork which shall determine our lives…

A few short years ago, about the time online video was becoming possible, I bought the shiny new computer which would be my portal to the world. It would let me see and read about a huge range of people similar to me and make direct contact with many of them as we each found our own way to deal with the problem nature had dealt us. This was my therapy, my support group and I have to say for a few years something of an obsessive life. Now it lies mostly idle, creaky with age and gathering dust. Today, my fingers already ache through lack of practice tapping the keys.
I found that new life which seemed so impossible, and in a way so few can appreciate I wake and just live the life I should have been born to.

There are no fanfares playing; life is not exciting and there is no longer a stream of messages about other’s ups and downs of life filling the inbox several times each day to respond to or write a blog post about. In fact after returning from a month road trip there were only a handful of messages in that box at all!

The world has discovered the “selfie” though “we” have been using them for decades to see ourselves as others see us, to examine how we look and assess the ease or impossibility of “that look” ever being accepted as who we wish to be. I started while in my teens, decades ago, to see the creature with long nails and hair who was often assumed to be a girl. Just how true was that vision? Without the onset of facial hair it was the me I thought I should be and I sought help to fix that image. I should explain that I was a photographer in those days of chemical photography, hence the ease of being able to make self portraits. Sadly my search for help was a disaster and I foolishly believed them when I was told that I would never get that sort of help in my lifetime… I should “marry and produce children and these silly thoughts will be forgotten”! How many have tried that and failed, probably locked themselves deeper into the hiding role? I destroyed the photographs, much to my regret, and looked forward to a short life of misery…

Eventually in my twenties those girlish looks started to be hidden as the testosterone finally stared to make it’s mark and a silky facial fuzz appeared. I tried to scrape it off a couple of times but the blood and pain was too much. I hid behind the growing beard thankful that by chance I was living in an age where a Hippy look was not uncommon, it did not help you get on in life but you could mostly be left alone. It would be about thirty five years before my random stumbling about online led me to T Central and the discovery that I was far from alone.

Reading Blogs by people like Lori and others she had gathered about her was a revelation and soon I felt that even though I had not written more than a shopping list for decades I too should have a go at my own blog. We all have our own stories, good and bad, and we need to see ourselves within the big picture.

That big picture has covered far more than I could ever have imagined, joys and sorrows, rejection to total acceptance, unemployment to career enhancement, from the birth of a child to two mothers to inevitable deaths from natural and unnatural causes, all life is here…

When I first clicked onto T Central I thought I was a hopeless case who had missed the boat. I was too old, I was too tall, I was too ugly with hair in the wrong places and thinning hair where I really wanted lush flowing locks, I had a life with a partner whose career I did not wish to disrupt, I had friends I might loose and a partner who might reject the new version of me and leave me homeless and with an impossible future. The “selfies” I had restarted taking after decades of evading being in photographs proved all this to me but something drove me on and knowing that others were doing the same helped me along. The time scale of years of treatment seemed immense but it passed in a flash and astonishingly the evidence of the “selfies” now is that everything I thought a handicap or saw as an unconquerable obstacle melted away once met head on.

They say that there is no such thing as a cured alcoholic and much the same goes for us too. Our past cannot be denied. We may always find ourselves helping a fellow sufferer along their chosen path to the new life which awaits us if we only find the courage to make that first step into the unknown.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Trans ~ Thoughts & Reflections 2014

Before we begin our Trans Thoughts & Reflections 2014, let's take a look back to 2010 and one of our favourite (my favourite) bloggers, Caroline, originally posted by Calie.

I've been following Caroline's blog since about the time she started it. I read it for not only the content but also to view the beautiful pictures. You see, Besides being a talented writer, Caroline is also a talented photographer.

Our girl resides in the UK but you can find her by visiting her blog, Time Regained. If you would like to contact Caroline, you'll find her email address on her blog profile. Don't forget about the T-Central Facebook site, where you can meet some of the guest bloggers. A link is at the bottom of this page.

She has been gracious enough to share her story with all of us.

- Calie

1970 - 2010

So I have been asked to write something from the viewpoint of someone transitioning. These sorts of requests certainly stir up the brain cells.

This is not a regular transition and life has been strange to say the least. I am only a hairs breadth from being asked to write from the viewpoint of a non transitioner or partial transitioner. There are as many reasons why someone would or could not transition especially if you were born way back in the dark ages of the fifties.

They should not have been the dark ages that they were, Christine Jorgensen had transitioned and become a celebrity less than a year after I was born yet here we are nearly sixty years later and society, politicians and even the medical fraternity have still failed to come to terms with the facts of life concerning transsexuality.

I knew before my sisters were born that I expected to grow into a woman and definitely not into a man. As the first born in our part of the family I got to watch many households as I was passed about amongst family. I knew that my interests were female interests and loathed the fact that I was supposed to play a male role with male children! Moreover my observations of couples showed me that my ideal coupling was amongst the all female couples, (there were many after the war because there were more women than men and it took two female incomes combined to make a live-able income), where a few had some special relationship no other couples had. This was what I foresaw for myself when I grew up, I still had no idea how a small child turned into an adult just that it took a long time. The day before my third birthday my sisters arrived with great fanfare and my life was put in turmoil, they already had female bits! I started to withdraw into myself all confidence shattered and when I discovered emotions surfacing with girl like reactions I resolved to clamp down on my emotions and close the tap on the tear ducts, they remained that way for nearly half a century.

At school I was shunned by both boys and girls, they could all see something was wrong even if adults could not. I live a fairly solitary life with my only escape to hide amongst my mothers dresses of silks and satins in her wardrobe. Sadly I grew quickly and my feet out grew her shoes, little chance was available to actually try on many of the clothes and soon I out grew them too. I never had any serious desire to cross dress, nothing was easily available to provide experiments after the early days but honestly I felt it would be counter productive for me, it was an all or nothing feeling at this age. Their strict rules and lack of any money of my own left me with nothing but dull clothes, any attempt by my mother to buy “boys” clothes was received with horror and refusal to wear them even to join in family occasions., one sports jacket had me frozen with fear when it was forced on, I wanted to die on the spot. My sister has just met a cousin who has not seen me for well over forty years and was immediately asked if I was still as weird! Well I guess I was, I had no teenage life to speak of outside of occasional trips to the cinema with a neighbour. I read books while others had friends and no doubt experimented with sex. These years were the dullest of my life.

Biology classes only made clear that you were either male or female and procreated so… Clearly I truly was a rare specimen and there was no place in the scheme of things I kept my head down and looked to a lonely future. Without trying I got a place at university and packed and left home without a tear the very next day, sad to leave my sisters but… There was little enough to pack and the only clothing I retained from this old life was my signature black polo neck sweater.

This was the end of the sixties and I had long ago managed to grow my nail and hair to what had until recently been outrageously long, now free of parental grasp I bought androgynous,( Unisex was all the rage then), clothing in soft fabrics and bright colours. A late hippie free at last but doing a science course because I had been told I was too bright to go to Art school!

I suddenly found that people found me attractive! Sadly homosexuality was still illegal and everyone who found me attractive had to risk the wrath of the law, and they were very keen on showing their wrath, to come and proposition me. I had figured out that female born lesbians were extremely unlikely to choose me until all the natal lesbians had been taken but this unwanted attractiveness came as a shock and is still happening, last offer less than three weeks ago! If only life had been that simple.

Science taught me that my late puberty could be halted if the testosterone was stopped, simple. While recovering from an appendix removal I watched a biopic of Christine Jorgensen and this confirmed my suspicions that I was not alone and that there was a solution to the problem and had been for nearly twenty years. Younger readers can have no idea just how little information was available back then even in a university library! I was seen by the university medical service to seek help little realising that they had not moved on an iota since the middle ages except in their new preference for “electro convulsive therapy” as their preferred mode of torture. I have seen “hopping mad” and it was the perfect description for the doctor who saw me and promised “no possible help in this lifetime”.

At nineteen my life was shattered. I got wolf whistles from thugs who saw woman one moment then if doubt crept in, still no facial hair, would want to kill to show their mates just how tough they were. I was likely going to meet a vicious end on the streets, there was no possibility of medical help and I became unable to concentrate on my studies falling from top rated student to failure in a very short time.

Ironically the abject failure attracted a slightly butch girl and for a while I had a girls body to explore and play with learning to satisfy it with my unwanted parts. Being uninterested in the male part meant I could keep going for as long as required which initially seemed to be appreciated but somehow that waned and we fell into close friendship. Being close to a feminine circle was enough for me then and since I was with a girl suddenly I was safe to be around. I maintained my feminine androgynous look and found a dead end job to support us, at the time it seemed a satisfactory life for one with so little hope. After a number of years she left overnight for a job five hundred miles away and I was alone.

Casually during a night shift I sold my apartment to one of the technicians then being homeless gave my notice to quit. I wandered about for most of the next year trying to decide what to do, I had possibly enough money to pay for an operation but how to go about this was a mystery. I would have no home and had no skill to offer any employer if such existed who would employ a transitioned person. I could be the person I wanted to be but without a future or…

One of my old circle of female friends with whom I had made several trips to Europe declared that they would be heartbroken if we did not live together! She lived in her old family home badly in need of repair and maintenance, enough to keep me occupied till the end of time, no need to ever worry about seeking the mythical reasonable employer who would accept my ambiguous appearance. That was half a lifetime ago and we are still together and no the house project is not yet finished.

A certain lack of cash has always held up the work but not as much as the constant torment of dysphoria! Like Quasimodo’s bells it drives you to distraction. Hopelessness is always on your shoulder sapping strength and enthusiasm for life. Not every minute of every day but enough to drive you into periods of despair while all around you sail on with contented lives. My forward planning was like driving a car while only looking a hundred yards ahead on the road not able to see the possibility of a future beyond that, sleepless nights planning a way out of this life leaving no trace that you had ever existed. Fear, of a funeral for the body containing an unknown soul, eating away at that very soul.

My self cloistering from the world was not working. I had lived the life of an old fashioned house wife and once more being with someone had extended my circle of friends and acquaintances who accepted me as who I was, an arty circle is fairly open and accepting but my self imposed rules imprisoned me too much. We have been lovers after a fashion but that has developed into a strong loving sensual friendship. The change towards a female body did cause a few moments pause to come to terms with from her viewpoint, worried that she would be seen as lesbian by her friends! They would probably be even more surprised if she told the truth that we are an asexual couple now.

The world was changing and it became obvious that those in my situation were no longer looked upon with quite the distain we once were. Medical help was available within my life time but you still had to be treated as if you were mad before any kind of help would be offered then you would be eligible to join the endless wait for GRS, no help with appearance would be available at any time during this process! It was still an Alice through the looking glass world!

Finally I decided I had reached my limit of endurance, hair was receding and old age approaching and soon my alone time would be gone when my partner retired, what would happen to my free expression then? She had no idea that I had lived in skirts, how would we live together all day every day?

I started to have my facial hair removed area by area, nobody seemed to notice! Nails got painted, almost nobody cared, soon I was getting polish for presents! Unisex was no longer a fashion I pushed further to the feminine only buying or collecting cast off women’s clothes, nobody seemed to notice the change. Nearly a decade passed before I finally asked my doctor to help me get an orchiectomy, she hardly batted an eyelid only asking why I had taken so long to get round to asking her for help, we had known each other for several years by this time. She managed to organise it and it was done eighteen months ago, not well but it was done! I thought Hormones would then logically be the obvious medication for maintaining health such as strong bones but the health service did not follow my logic.

If I was transitioning I was way off any known course! Change was glacially slow and at every step along the way I imagined I could just stop and make do only to find that the desire to progress increased. Part of me was saying what a fool to bother at such a great age only to find that there are legions of us who have been put off when young or in many cases got swept into a life of work or marriage which trapped them for decades with wife and children. Part of me longed for a small taste of the life I should have had and was prepared to spend what time I have left as a large, not very beautiful woman hard to miss in a crowd. Suddenly I found myself swept into the system which I so disapproved of as my only means of getting the HRT I so needed.

My meetings with the two psychologists was interesting, I poured out my story for them and within an hour and a half the first had said that he would support me as far as I wished to take it, I went hoping for a small bag of sweeties and get offered the whole jar! No help to soften the masculine features but the chance to look good in a bikini and feel whole and complete. Funding has become dire since I started down this path but it has not dried up completely, the wait could be some time.

Hormone patches have been stuck on for a little over three months and have started their work unencumbered by any testosterone, muscles have wasted away for the past year or so and the fat redistributed has started to be firmed up by the estrogen with a well rounded behind and small pert breasts forming, swimming is hard work because I float so high in the water now! Belly fat is not quite so welcome but seems to be part of the deal, be warned. Body hair has become more sparse and thinner and easily epilated while the head hair feels thicker though no re-growth that some report. My skin feels softer but sadly my nails which have been long and strong for fifty years are now short, split and broken. Interestingly my bladder is now able to hold more than before which is great for watching long films

Now that I know that the HRT is suitable and is doing it’s work I felt it was time to tell those family and friends closest to me exactly what is going on and the change of status, forewarn them before I take advantage of my extended dress possibilities! Many of us fear this disclosure and can loose those closest to us but for me many claimed surprise but saw that no real change had taken place and was just more a change of perception, hardly surprising considering my old lifestyle and appearance. A very dull coming out over the last month or so, to show an example, a niece said that she had never had an uncle anyway!

It seemed such a small thing changing from ambiguous to female, just another small step on the way but it has tripped me up completely.

I feel a bit lost! The constant dysphoric irritation as background to my life has vanished, I am calm and relaxed but feel as if I have been released from a straight jacket in a darkened prison and flung unfettered into the bright sunlight with 360 degree views and no restriction on where to go or what to do. A life of survival does not prepare you in any way for this life of possibilities. Occasional moments overwhelm and catch the throat and bring a tear to the eye when I think about a life without a career and the income and pension that would have generated. I have never compromised much on my presentation and used facilities according to convenience out of place in either, now there is no question, I have to queue for the inadequate provision made by some pathetic male architect! I am now really out there and the world has to deal with that.

Generally I just feel right for the first time in my life, free to finally stop any pretense and just be the real me.

Monday, October 20, 2014

An Admission and Rethink on Labels

Have you met Michelle yet?  In her words:

I’m a straight, heterosexual guy, father and husband, who, on occasion, likes to dress as a woman. And when I do, I want to portray the image of a woman. I don’t do it that often, but enjoy it when I can.

In Michelle's latest post, she contemplates on the subject many of us can relate to, and the "labels" that go with it:

Well, after a lot of thinking and talking to myself while on the treadmill, I now have to admit, I am not a normal guy. I have to acknowledge and affirm that I am transgender.  When one has thoughts like “that’s a nice dress. Wonder how I would look in it?” that’s not a “normal guy” thought. When I want to rid my body of hair so I can wear a sleeveless dress and enjoy the feel of pantyhose of bare skin…that’s not what a “normal guy” would do.

Check out  An Admission and Rethink on Labels and then, if you want to read some more from Michelle, I'd suggest you take a look at another post some of you may relate to: ADOLESENCE…..The years of confusion and discovery.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Red Hot (or perhaps just wildly warm)

I saw the picture and had to post it.  No creative writing in this one.  Just the red dress and April looks fab in it!
It's Red Hot!

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

It's Been Almost 10 Years

I'm posing in a romantic location I'd been visiting since I was seven. The photo is being taken by my boyfriend who loves me very much. This was our first proper holiday together. I'm wearing hotpants and a cami with confidence. I've got my legs on show. My hair looks lovely. I'm wearing next to no makeup. I feel pretty. More important I feel confident and happy....How on earth did I get there?.....

How did she get there?  

How does she look? 

The picture and the answer is in Jane's latest post, It's Been Almost 10 Years.

Josephine was the name Mom told me she had ready for the little girl she had expected.  Robyn was the name I got given because I was actually a little boy.  Was it strange that Mom should choose a name that would do for either sex in the end?

The excerpt, above is from Jane's post, Josephine.  If you want to know Jane better, this post takes you back to her beginnings.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Helen Boyd: On Not Writing

Having been a big fan of Helen Boyd's writing, I found her latest post quite interesting, including her mention of Book #3.  The post is titled, On Not Writing.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

I Am My Own Girlfriend

When I look for a blog to feature, I try to find the new bloggers.  Featuring their blogs introduces T-Central followers to new bloggers and the new bloggers end up with new readers.

Every day, I look through the list of posts on T-Central and find that Stana's Femulate blog is always near the top of the list.  When I see one of Stana's posts, I always think that everyone who follows T-Central has already seen the post, so why feature it?

Stana is a friend, however, and it seems wrong not to feature her wonderful site once in a while.  Besides that, nearly half of the referrals to T-Central come from the Femulate site.  There has to be a way to thank Stana and I'm doing it today by featuring a post she did in 2009, which may have never been read by new followers of the Femulate blog.  I Am My Own Girlfriend kind of sums up what Stana is all about.

I'll remind our readers that Stana did a post for our Thoughts and Reflections series in 2010, which is well worth reading if you haven't seen it.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Personal Pronoun Problems

Transfinite Love is a blog written by a lovely, open-minded woman who refers to herself as "Joyful Girl".  

How can I describe our blog author?  I thought about it and decided to just copy and paste her first post, My New Normal.

"The black is sexier but the pink makes my boobs look better. What do you think?"

I am modeling lingerie for my husband Jake and his online friends.

Jake is lounging on the bed, shirtless, wearing a woman's wig. He is 56 days into hormone replacement therapy to become a woman. It's topless night for his Google+ support group, and trans women in various stages of transition are hollering from his computer screen: Ooh girl that's hot! The black, definitely the black! Yes, the black, you look gorgeous!

"Thanks, OK black it is!" I blush, darting embarrassed away from the camera, even though I am the most conservatively dressed for topless night.

I slip clothes over the black nightie and kiss Jake goodbye.

"See you in a couple hours; I'll be home by midnight."

"Ok, have fun baby!"

I lean in front of the camera and wave, "Thanks again ladies. Have a good night!"

I head out to have mind-blowing hot sex with my new boyfriend. I'll be back in time for a bedtime snuggle with Jake, to tell him about my date and hear how much fun he had chatting with his t-girls, before we fall asleep.

Four months ago I had a completely hetero-normal life. Jake and I were married for seven years, faithfully monogamous for the twelve years we'd been together. We were planning to start a family soon.

I could not have dreamed up my new life. I sure as hell never would have asked it for it. But this is my new normal. And I love it.

(August 2013)

We'll have more from Joyful Girl in our next Trans Thoughts and Reflections series, coming up soon.

For now, she has a lot to day about pronouns.  Go here for her latest post.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Understand Suicide

I can't speak for my co-admins at T-Central, but I tend to stay away from featuring posts that are "down" or depressing.  This time, however, I want to make an exception.

I've been following Justine-Paula's Life Diary for quite a while now.  Nearly every post speaks of suicide and I have feared for her welfare ever since I first discovered the blog.

Justine is from the UK, but has been living in South Africa for some time.  She began living full time, as a woman, a few years ago, while living in South Africa.  That was probably the high-point of her life, but things went downhill quickly with most of her issues related to the loss of her job as a video editor and the loss of her mother.

Since she lost her job - and Justine will contend that it was related to her transition - her life has been miserable.  She apparently lives in an environment (country or city?) that is not trans friendly and has found that absolutely no one will hire her.  She's been depressed and she's not been treating her body as the "temple" it is.

A couple of years ago, a friend sponsored Justine so that she could spend some time in the USA.  She loved living in the States, but could never find a job.  This was probably due to the location she was living in (the state of Vermont), where jobs as video editors are few and far between.  Without a job, Justine was forced to return back to South Africa, after six months in the USA (I think), and that is where she is today.

Justine just wants a job which is related to video editing and, for that special job, she is willing to live anywhere in the world.  You can tell by her writing that she is talented, and she needs to put that talent to work.

And, if she can't get a job, her other wish is for her life to end.

I doubt there is someone out there who can find Justine a job, but this girl needs friends and perhaps even advice.  For that reason, I'm featuring her most recent post, Understand Suicide.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Questions to Ask When Questioning Your Gender

"In a real sense, transition begins the moment we break the great taboo and gives ourselves permission to wonder: Who am I, really? Who do I want to be? 

Finding our truth along the way is so important, but not always easy. 
The questions featured at Today I Am a Man have no right or wrong answers, but they may help us to understand ourselves better, and how good is that!?

The People - Personal Thoughts

Cobweb Corner - Older Blogs, Not Recently Updated