Hello! I am a 30-something transsexual living in New Hope, PA.

New Hope, affectionately known as "No Hope," is a quaint little artist's colony located about an hour north of Philadelphia along the Delaware River. Every summer our little town of only 5 streets is overrun by tourists from Philly and New York City. We're famous for our antique shops, good restaurants, the Bucks County Playhouse, and our acceptance of alternative lifestyles. Here, just like in the garden of Eden, where the lions lay down with the lambs, motorcycle gangs, grunge boys with mohawks, the last of the hippies, and limp wristed fags, all coexist in tolerant harmony.

There are only 500 permanent residents in New Hope, 50% of whom are gay/lesbian. Sometimes I think the tourists come here not for the antiques or the good food, but just to gawk at us.

I suppose I get my share of stares. There was a time when there were a number of transgendered grrls living in New Hope, but not any longer. There's just me and Mary Margaret, who works the door at the Cart Wheel. Sad to say, most of our dearest friends, the best of the best, Danee Russo, Monica Rae, and Mother Cavellucci have all died. Others like Gabrielle have had their sexual reassignment surgery and simply blended in with the landscape.

So I've become a bit of an enigma in this town. Because I am transgendered, my mother tells me, I belong to a minority of a minority, which is true. Mary Margarent and I are like the white tigers in the zoo.

This journal holds some of my observations of life within the gilded cage of New Hope, PA.