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� In this diary, I record my life as a transvestite. Perhaps it will help somebody else, who finds their lifestyle doesn't quite match that endorsed by the 'tranny mafia'. Well, I've been there... and survived. The debriefing starts here.

�loves: All kinds of stuff that society thinks I shouldn't.

�hates: Microsoft. Obviously.

�reads:
secret-motel
artgnome
enfinblue
stepfordtart
ten-oclock
boombasticat
lawliiet
annanotbob
fifidellabon
my-serenade

Lynn Jones
Becky
Samantha

Joni Mitchell
8:10 a.m. -- 2010-03-19

"Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone..."

That was the thought that struck me, a few days ago, when I finally felt motivated to hit Diaryland with another slice of my wit, charm, ego and post-rationalisations. Only to find some cheezy website that claimed to hold the rights to the Diaryland domain name, and no diaries.

Oops. Had Diaryland gone the way of Haloscan? Had all my bloggings of the last couple of years verschwunden? (Sorry... I was in Germany recently. Anyway...)

I actually felt quite a sense of relief, at the idea that perhaps my blog had been amputated from the internet. The idea that all my confessions had disappeared from cyberspace (although perhaps they'd linger in Oogleboogle's cache for a few weeks or months) was refreshing. Not least because I need to maintain my anonymity.

I'm not hugely worried about the world knowing that I'm a tranny, but the whole 'masked crimefighter' thing relies upon the mask remaining in place. I refer, of course, to my ongoing interest in dismantling the crime syndicate known as $ci�nto�og�. And yeah... it is funny being a tranny and a member of Anonymous. It's like being Superman by day, and Lois Lane by night. But hey, at least it's never dull.

Still, you don't take on a cult that stalks its critics lightly, and I always worry about how much personal information I've given away, over time. So the idea that this journal of the 'other' facets of my life had disappeared... well, it appealed, to be honest.

I started thinking about a fresh start. The witless protection programme, perhaps? I could start anew with a nice, new blog somewhere else. Which, with all those corporate acquisitions, probably means doing business with Oogleboogle Dot Com. Kind of annoying, because I already use Oogleboogle in my 'real life' (which is to say, when I'm not fighting crime or talking about Revlon) and their sites have an irritating habit of keeping track of who you are, and trying to append my real name to anything I write. Arrgh!

So maybe that 'Buzz' thing would be interesting, and more interactive that dear old Diaryland... but it might also be perilously close to Facilebook, which as I have already written, I find to be full of all the people I had been quite content to forget, sending meaningless updates about the pointless trivia of their lives.

(Interesting exchange of messages with my long-suffering ex-girlfriend Lucy, though, courtesy of Futilebook. I'll have to blog about that sometime soon. An amazing little piece of closure, that was.)

There's other things that have happened since the last time I wrote, too. A business trip to China that begs to be written about, for example. Yeah, I can see I have a lot of writing to do, now that the instrument of torture known as Diaryland has chosen to reappear.

Oh, joy.

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