Who needs eyes?

Get a camera. Watch your life from outside yourself. Put the camera on your shoulder, or give it to someone else for that third-person omniscient point of view.

For today's episode, the laughing god has volunteered his expertise as cinematographer.

Three people in a video-conference room: myself; C., whom I know; and V., whom I have never met before. Other people wander in and out.

It is my last day working as Tom, my old male identity, before I transition to being Diane. I am cross-dressed, but androgynously so--black silk blouse, vest, jeans. My hair is down to the bottom of my shoulder blades, but pulled back. I'm wearing a very feminine pair of earrings.

After the meeting, V. and C. discuss sending minutes, which won't go out until the following week. Because our internal e-mail addressing uses only names, I mention to V. that I will be changing my name the following Monday. She gives me a blank look, then says, "Oh, are you getting married?"

C. gets a good laugh out of that; C. is obsessed with getting married, although she doesn't yet know who the lucky man will be. C. has also known my not-so-secret secret for a long time.

I tell V., "No, I'm changing my name to Diane."

She stares at me for another couple of seconds, then says, "Oh. Okay."

We leave the room, and that seems to be the end of it. The laughing god follows V. and C. as they continue to discuss the minutes.

Later, I find out what the laughing god has recorded in my camera.

V. doesn't have a problem with my change, but she was surprised. She saw me as being very masculine, the type who would belong to a motorcycle club.

As the howling glee of the laughing god lingers in the air, I wonder: Would this have happened had I chosen someone else to record this moment of my memory?