There's a message from the administrator indicating that Blogstream will cease to exist as of April 30.

I've downloaded all of my posts so I'll have a personal record of my journey. I gave some thought to editing them into book form, but I'm not sure the story is compelling enough to hold anyone's interest.

Before I go further, I want to convey my heartfelt thanks to those readers who have offered their support in the form of comments and personal messages. You know who you are, and you can rest assured that your simple acts of caring have had a positive effect upon my life.

I came here tonight to relate an experience I created for myself today. Having kept Kay bottled up for quite a while as I played my role at the funeral home, I decided to enjoy some time on the beach. My body has changed to such a degree that I pass quite well in a woman's swimsuit.

I drove up the coast a few miles to an area that's not so crowded and spent a couple of hours there. The water is still too cold for me to go in all the way, but I did get almost waist deep before I chickened out. Mostly, I just lay in the sun and people-watched. I found it very satisfying to mingle freely with others and be accepted, dressed as I was and with minimal makeup.

That's a good way to end this narrative: a reiteration of the fact that I've found and embraced my inner female. The name I chose for this blog - "Another Self" - reflects the discomfort we transgender souls feel because we know we are much more complex than society's preordained gender roles contemplate. Life becomes a longing to reconcile our bodies with our minds. Some of us succeed, but all too many do not.

If I have accomplished nothing else, I hope that by documenting my experience I've given people a better understanding and a more sympathetic view of others like me. Please accept that we know this about ourselves at a very early age - before we're mature enough to sort it out alone or arm ourselves against the bullying and bigotry we're likely to face.

It took me many decades, but I have arrived. Kay has prevailed.

If you want to stay in touch, please make a note of my email address: khenderson@kentraco.com

I'll miss writing here and knowing that my words are being read. To everyone who has visited: I wish you all the best in these difficult times. Draw strength from the love of others, and give of yourself what you can. It's okay to hurt and to cry. None of us has all the answers. I've always thought we're still little kids looking out of adult eyeholes.

Goodbye, my friends.

Twice this past week, I misidentified the gender of people I called. I'm working with a list of contacts who are 55 or older. If it's a married couple, only one name is shown. I try to listen very closely when someone answers the phone, but mistakes still happen. And I'm so embarrassed when they do.

Yesterday, I had occasion to review some of my blog entries from 2008 and 2009. I once wrote, while working as a volunteer, that I often came across as male on the phone but as female in person.

I've been through so many changes since I started documenting this strange journey. The person I write about today seems light years removed from the one who took those first tentative baby steps in late 2007.

Some of what has transpired was of my own making, and much was not. The monumental upheavals were more the result of financial chaos than any planning on my part. Where I did have options, I can only hope that I made the right decisions.

Looking back, I see that my early exploits made for far better reading than does the current recounting of my somewhat routine daily life.

Over time, this blog has been a wonderful device for putting emotions into words. I can go back and see, for example, how deeply affected I was by the loss of my faithful friend George. Tears still begin to well up when I think about him.

At the end of the day, our lives are the sum of the choices we are empowered to make and how we respond to those events over which we have no control.

This is the second time in as many days that I've been at the funeral home alone after normal working hours.

I had an appointment at four, and I have another one at six in the same neighborhood. Because of the location, it makes more sense to come here and wait instead of driving home and then back.

Some people might think of the environment as being somewhat spooky, but that's not the case. The chain I work for makes an effort to keep the atmosphere at their facilities pleasant and uplifting. Right now, there are no "departeds" either in the chapel or in the refrigerator. In the beginning, their presence was a bit unsettling, but I'm accustomed to it now.

This is a large and impressive building, but that's because it's designed to handle funerals. The number of people working here on a daily basis is actually quite small: the administrator, a funeral director, one other salesperson and me. They're female, and I get along well with all of them. We're very supportive of each other.

I enjoy what I'm doing. It makes me feel good to interact with people and gain their trust and friendship. And I like knowing at the end of the day that I've spent my time helping others.

In my short time at the funeral home, I've seen people finish the training, try the job for a week or two and then leave. Some couldn't handle the work, some needed to make money quickly and one expected sales leads to be handed to him.

Now - again - there are only two of us. The other salesperson has been there for about six months. She and I get along wonderfully.

Before I became deeply involved, I would have expected myself to be one of those who gave up early. Unlike other sales I've tried, though, I find this very easy to like. I'm truly motivated to do it well, and that provides the energy for me to work hard at the pedestrian aspects of the position. And I'm always learning new things, so there's no danger that I'll become bored.

The phones were unproductive today. But this afternoon I made a sale simply because I happened to be in the office when the client came in. So I never know when something good will happen. That's why I've opted to go in and take calls on alternate Saturday mornings.

I've done many things in my life, and I think this is the first time I've surprised myself by being good at something I thought I would never be able to do well.

How odd it seems to have gone from presenting as female for so long to working at a job that requires me to hide that aspect of my persona.

Having come to terms with my transgender status, I suffer no confusion regarding who I am. So I can move from one public identity to the other with no attendant problems.

Perhaps there are many strange birds like me who can adapt their plumage to the situation at hand. I hope so, because that would indicate a healthy degree of self-acceptance - as opposed to the mental turmoil so many of us endure on this path.

Being away from the office for two days because of transportation problems, I realized today how very much I enjoy what I'm doing and the people I work with. I attacked the phone list with renewed vigor and also was able to answer questions for customers who called. My license arrived this morning, so now I'm "official". All that really means is that I can sign contracts as a representative of the business. I truly feel as though I belong there now.

I plan to pick up a car tonight - one that will serve as a reliable alternative to the open, big-tired 1977 Jeep I drove to work today. The weather was rainy, and I couldn't go faster than 30 MPH without the entire drivetrain sounding as if it was going to self-destruct. If all goes as planned, I'll be in a very well-kept used Lincoln Town Car tomorrow morning.