There is a little girl, a vibrant, happy, colorful thing who dances among the dreary concrete that composes the buildings of her academic heaven. This girl has so many good things in her life, she is doing all the things she loves, creating wonderful essays and murals while eating electrically hued jello and devouring every scrap of creative writing she possibly can. She dances around constantly to whatever music takes her fancy and her dancing is like the wild abandon of the hopeful innocent. This girl is not entirely happy, however. Ze yearns to be a pretty young boi, or perhaps an abrasive butch grrl, but hard as she tries she is still a little girl, all lollipops and crossed ankles when she wants so much to be rough edges or gay sensibility. She is in no mood for princes or frogs, but unkissed she remain sthe same misformed creature, lost in limbo between the two beings that would make her happy. She can't help but feel that perhaps it is too much for her to want to change who she is. She has everything she could ever want. Well, maybe not true love, but suprisingly she doesn't feel like she's missing much without it. She does want so much to feel like a whole self, however. A self that doesn't put on a performance every day when she puts on fresh clothing, a self that ze can see day after day and have a similar person looking back. Ze searches for this self everywhere ze can. Is it in books about gender? In the sweet kisses of a (mostly-straight) close friend? She doesn't find it in those places. Could it be some aspect of the goddess? Some scientific sensibility ze has not yet explored? She doesn't find it in those places either. Perhaps one day a beautiful nymph with purple tilty eyes and snarl-ball hair will leave hir own woodland playground and show the little girl how to be one person, but for today ze must reconcile the peices of hirself. Ze must live with the daily-drag that is hir little-girl life and be thankful that ze has the humour and playfullness to make it bearable.