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Oops; I wrote this yesterday.

Stories like this one about a five-year-old boy being bullied for wearing nail polish remind me of how often I've thought about wearing nail polish, and of conversations with my therapist about how simply being true to myself can be a political act. Kids like Sam here help inspire me toward greater gender transgression to try to make things a little easier for them down the line.

If I'm still feeling brave tonight after work, I think I'll paint my nails.

*Spoiler: I painted my nails!

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The stars, or traffic lights and wind, aligned this morning and I had my fastest ride to work yet; 13.5 miles in slightly over 50 minutes total time. But the recording seems to have disappeared from my bike computer. Oh well; life goes on.

My fingernails are now sparkly-metallic gray. I have already put a chip in the edge of my right pinky. It's interesting how conscious I've become of doing things that might cause damage to the paint.

Danae told me that her parents think it's clever and industrious of me to take library books we'd otherwise throw out and sell them. That makes me feel good; I went them to feel positively about me and be happy I'm with her. I've sold three books just this past week, and that makes me feel good too. Only several hundred more to go.... C'mon people; buy my stuff!