Bear with me, if you will, for this may turn into a rant or not... it remains to be seen.

Over the past 4 years, since SCC 2009, I have discovered a new faith in God, tamped down and given up on what I thought was a love that would last the rest of my life, lost friends and social gatherings that I had enjoyed immensely for the last 20 some years, and successfully gone as far as I can in my transition without spending a shitwad of dollars I don't have and will likely never get.

In one single night, standing on a low balcony in South Carolina, I for the first time in my life, talked to God, and believed He heard me.

SCC was a turning point in my life, a epiphany if you will and, feeling at peace with myself, after 60 years of pretending and faking it, making an absolute Dogs breakfast of a life I didn't want, I finally found one I did want. The hospitality of a dear friend and his wife, made that trip more of a joy than the conference alone couldn't have matched and I began, that day, to rededicate myself to going as far as I could go in my transition, or at least as far as my finances would allow.

That trip also signaled the end of a relationship which, to everyone but me was already done. I hung onto it in the vain hope that, maybe if I was sincere enough, wanted it badly enough, I could MAKE it work. I couldn't, and it didn't. It was never destined to work, but I wanted it SO desperately, I NEEDED it so badly, that I refused to see the writing on the wall and never heard the words that it had already gone the way of the dinosaurs. I went home alone. At the same time I was uplifted and broken hearted, but I managed to save, with the help of the other person involved, a lasting friendship and the knowledge that that person knew that I would always BE a friend.

I never comprehended what my Father was feeling as his lifelong friends passed away, leaving him alone to carry on in remembrance of their lives. I never quite "got it" until it began to happen to me. Slowly, friends I went to school with, friends I'd made online, people YOUNGER than I began to "shuffle off this mortal coil" leaving me with memories and sadness... and fear. Fear that I might be nearing the end of my alloted time on this planet and the thought of leaving made me wonder. Did I make a difference while I was here? Would I be remembered as fondly as some of the others have been? I remember almost every name in the "In Memoriam" box on the home page here at Top Shelf with fondness and even love. I hope that, when my time is at an end, that my name might engender those same feelings in some of you.

Then I began to think about my transition. Knowing that I would never get any further down the transition trail without the aforementioned shitwad of money and wondering if the distance I'd already travelled was enough to satisfy the need to finish the job. Remarkably smooth, my road has been, with nary a pothole of speed bump with the possible exception of a couple of family members who don't like it much at all, but who know there isn't a damned thing they can do to stop me, and one friend who still holds out hope that this is some classic, wondrously planned joke on him. I have to be content with my journey and it's seemingly unassailable roadblock, so I strive, every day, to be cheerful and hopeful, for the other way leads to depression and destruction. I refuse to go there, no matter what happens.

Gee, I guess this turned into a pity party, but these are things I have to get out of my head and I know no better way than to write them down and expose them to the bright sunlight of public perusal. Forgive me for that.

There are many here who I call friends. They have gained my respect for their courage, their compassion, and their unflagging optimism for their lives. Despite travails that would cripple a lesser being, they fight with all their strength to not only maintain, but improve their lives and their passage through them. I feel quite inadequate to share, to receive in return, their friendship, but I try, with all I am, to be worthy of it. My dreams of a place for them in which they can not only live, but thrive, are just that... dreams. Without that mentioned shitwad of money, those dreams have about much chance of becoming reality as peace upon the Earth... and yet I do dream. There's always the Powerball lottery, right?

So here I sit. The television is on in the background, striving to keep me interested in life and failing miserably as I watch guys beating each other up, duck call makers getting millions of dollars, swamp dwellers hunting prehistoric beasts, people chopping down forests, and make believe programs about criminals and their "inevitable punishments via "The Law." I know I should get my tired ass up off this seat and get out there in the "real world" but that world is full of shit I'd rather not have to face, knowing my temper and inability to suffer fools gladly. My housemate says I have road rage. I do not. What I have is stupidity rage. I rage at the seeming increase of people who have no awareness of others around them. People who take what they deem to be theirs by some inconceivable right that they are right and the world owes them a living, and fuck those who disagree. A wise man once said: "I love humanity. It's people I can't stand." He was right.

People seem to have to have the ability to be the most incredible assholes, plowing over everything in their perceived belief that they are better than the other assholes out there, and willing to become physically involved in proving that THEY are better assholes than those other people... and yet... sometimes, one discovers one who isn't one of those assholes. Someone who typifies what being a human being is ll about. It has been my surprised, yet incalculable pleasure, to have made contact with many of those folks through the magical world of the internet. Many of them go out of their way to be there for someone who is hurting or lost. Many of them, though not all of them, reside right here at Top Shelf.

Those people are the ones who keep me trying, who keep me interested, who give me hope that maybe, just maybe, I have a place with them. They keep me wanting to live, to give all I can, to try to be a better person. I will not mention names, but they know who they are, and I hope they know how much I appreciate, no, love them. They have taken this broken, flawed, parody of a human being and turned her into someone who cares, who believes, who hopes and who dreams of better things and times.

Sigh. Okay, maybe this isn't a rant, but a poor attempt to justify my existence. Maybe it;s a verbose way of thanking those who have taken me to their hearts, who have loved me for all my faults.

What this is, is partly to thank a few special persons and even though I said I wasn't gonna mention names, I have to. Happy Holly Hart who, in spite of my unworthiness, befriended me, GAVE me a computer and kept me online when it seemed as though I'd have to give up the lifeline that is the internet. Piper who unselfishly, along with her partner, KimEM, kept me online when I couldn't afford to have the internet. Grover, whose talent and hospitality made my trip to SCC an unforgettable enlightenment. KimEm, Prue, Neri, and PIckle, who welcomed me online and kept me from doing something that would have ended my involvement with the world altogether. Andrea Dimaggio whose unfailing romantic spirit gave my universe the heart it needed. Stan, who showed his hidden talent and wrote great stories for that universe. Ty, Genni, Pippa, Crystal, Sapphire, Erin, SaraUK, Scotty, Shelley, and too many more to mention, who kept chats and other things interesting and fun and kept me hoping I was on the right path. Beverly for keeping me honest and showing me there is more to history than what I was taught in school and more courage than I knew existed, Gwen for showing me you can't ever quit. Every TG fiction writer, commenter, and reader for giving me the confidence I needed, to write.

All of those people showed me something I'd never had before. Respect and love... and THAT is what keeps me going. That is what keeps me hoping that somehow, somewhere, there is an answer. Maybe someday I'll find it. Until then, I'm gonna stick around and see what comes next.

If you've read this far, I thank you, from my heart. I rambled a lot more than I had planned to. Hugs and love to all of you.

Pray for Holly.

Catherine Linda Michel