“A story is as good a way to organize your thoughts as anything else,” she points out, poised in the shadows in the doorway. I quickly conclude that she is playing the part of my conscience. That, or devil’s advocate. Either way, she’s me. I cannot say she does not really exist without implying the same of myself. She...

“We never remember the beginning,” she said quietly. “We pretend not to know why—but then that is one of our favorite tricks, isn’t it?” she glanced up at me, smiling at my confused silence. With her arms crossed she began to drift about the room, examining objects while continuing this strange introduction. “We...

I wonder what is going to happen next. I wonder if I can hold it together to get a job and move out on my own. I wonder if I can manage to hold on to that job and support myself. I wonder, because I am not really wanted where I am. The only support I can count on, the support of my family and friends, is conditional....

The response I received to my last post, Conundrum, prompted me to check out the recent posts of the people who commented or posted blogs in the transgender category yesterday. As a result, I became aware of the outcry against the appointment of Dr. Kenneth Zucker, Dr. Ray Blanchard, and J. Michael Bailey, by the...

The rare and occasional visitor to the eye of paradox will note that I have been absent for the most part from my own blog. Ironically, this is not because I have nothing to say. Quite the opposite; I have too much to say and too little time to spend on writing any of it down. That is my reward for trying to improve my...

A good scare is like good sex. It is gripping and all consuming for an eternal moment, but once it has washed through you and you catch your breath, it evaporates. Like smoke, it unravels, curling in upon itself and expanding into nothing. Before you know it, only the memory remains.