become Charles to collect some money due me, and 3 days in August of 1968 when my mother passed away and I had to revert to Charles for her funeral and because of family arrangements. Other than these times a total of 5 days, I've been Virginia ever since and very happy and comfortable in the role. But three things have occurred in the last 6 or 7 months that have a bearing on this subject.

The first of these occurred one morning when I had gotten up, dressed, made up, etc. and had just had my breakfast. I was sitting at my breakfast table and picked up a story that had been submitted and de- cided to spend a little time editing it. It was a very good story and I found myself getting wound up in it and identifying with the hero- heroine just like I used to do. You know what I mean, the same feeling you have when you read an especially good piece of fiction in TVia or one of the separate stories. It was interesting, exciting, and I became involved in it. After 10 to 15 minutes I had to get up from the table to take care of something and this broke the spell. As I pushed away from the table I became consciously aware that I was wearing a dress and nylons because I could see them. This brought all the rest of my attire to my attention and it rather amused me. Here I was dressed as a woman, living as a woman and had been for over a year at the time and ex- pected to continue to be, so what was so great about a character in a story who got all gussied up for some special occasion. It seemed sort of silly for me to have any interest other than that of an editor. I made a mental note of it and went on to other things.

Two or three months ago when I was putting together Clipsheets No. 32, 33 and 34, I had the clippings spread out all over the living room rug. There were a number devoted to the current rage in England for "Drag Shows" meaning, of course, impersonator shows. But interestingly enough a lot of these shows and acts which apparently take place in pubs, bars, and at community affairs are not put on by homosexuals. Among the clippings were several of men going off to "work" (what a misnomer) all gussied up as girls — kissing the wife good bye and with the wig box carried by a small daughter and the cosmetic case by a small son. Well, as before I found myself getting all engrossed in these clippings, being envious, identifying, etc. Then suddenly I was aware that I was wearing a pretty psychodelic print jersey lounging pajama with silver slippers, appropriate jewelry etc. Again I thought, "how strange and foolish that I should become so involved with the people I have been reading about and who were pictured in the clippings when I have many more and different opportunities to wear all manner of femme clothes all the time. It was something like being envious of a kid who finds a five dollar bill

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