Tuesday, May 27, 2008

"All your clever talk
Leaves you tongue-tied..."

Hi peeps,

With apologies to McGonagall and anyone with a reasonable command of the English language. :D

With the world's worst poet now on the go,
I fancied my chances through will and ego,
It's not that I'm short of a post or such stuff,
and writting these words is increasingly tough.

There's nothing I needed to get of my chest,
Indeed come Friday we shall be all at rest,
It makes sound like we're all gonna to die,
Not really, just sat at EMA, waiting to fly.
Two fabby weeks stretched out in the sun,
No mobile, no internet, no contact no-one!

I guess I should stop before this gets tired,
It's gone on too long - certainly more than desired.
All that remains is to say toodle pip!
If the plane packs in, we'll come back via ship.
If you fancy a wheeze, please reply in like verse,
But really, no swearing, it's naughty to curse. :-D

Take care
Lynn
x

[ Today's lyric: Overkill by Kosheen and no, I won't be giving up the day job just yet :-P ]

Friday, May 23, 2008

"Came in from a rainy Thursday,
On the avenue..."

Hi,

A bit of a whimsical post this evening.... :-)

On certain day of the month, a group of men will be thinking about less than typical male behaviour. They'll be thinking about putting an outfit together. Will this go with that? Is it too warm or too cold? In the early evening they'll be running a bath or shower before a slow and very thorough shave. A bag will be packed and they'll make their way to a community centre in north Nottingham, but this is no shirt & tie or sports event.

Hello's will be said, smiles given before they retire to a room to change. Mirrors will be set out, control-ware is put on (Ed: no bumps where there shouldn't be), tights pulled on and slowly a new outfit assembled from the suitcase or carry-all. A top, a skirt, a dress or trousers. Suit or jeans. Flats or heels.

Minutes will pass as make-up is delicately applied and a new face will take shape. Tape, silicon and padding gives a cleavage, hips and fuller backside. Shoes unlike any man's will be stepped into, the heels tipping their posture and altering the walk. No more power strides.

Finally, and perhaps the tranny crown itself, a wig will be combed, worn and teased into position. A final look in the compact and they're ready for the evening itself. Inside their heads, a switch will be thrown and for a few hours they can - somewhat ironically - be themselves.

Later on the process will be undone. First to go will be the wig and to many of them, marks the start of the cliche: the beginning of the end. All traces of make-up will be gone and clothes will be lovingly packed away for another time. Smiles and waves will be given and everyone will go back to their everyday lives. They could be your next door neighbour, your work mate, your brother, your boss, your kid's teacher... even your husband. Trannys: they are both everywhere and nowhere.

Today's lyric: Ordinary World by Duran Duran.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

"The past was yours,
But the future's mine."

Howdy folks,

Earlier last month the BBC ran another episode of the series 'Child of our Time'. For those of you not familiar with the format, the programme has followed a dozen or so families in the UK since the birth of their children in 2000. The children are from a variety of backgrounds and most of them are 8 or so now. A recent episode was about gender; a subject frequently in mind for some of us. :) Various tests where set up although the tests where more demonstraitions of how certain children interact or to show how boys and girls differ.

In one test, the children where shown six blocks with words written on them. They were asked to put one in the bin until they were left with just one (or two in a few cases) words that they would like to be when they grew up. Interestingly, all the girls picked one word and the boys all another. Well, all except one lad who seemed unafraid to plough his own furrow. If you're curious the words, there were: clever, famous, healthy, kind, pretty/good looking and rich.

If you want to pick one, feel free. I'll let you know who picked what later in the week if you like. Oh and if you've seen the programme, fingers on lips. Shhhh! :D

Looking at the programme made me realise how far away my own childhood now seems. I remember thinking - years ago (Ed: 25? 30?) - I wonder what it's like to be an adult? Yet here as an adult, my childhood memories are just that, memories. The emotion and the passion (both good and bad) associated with them has gone, eroded by time and the rough worn smooth. I can look back, but it's not the same. I struggle to connect to see things through a child's eyes. I now find myself saying the things said to me, to my son (School's, not so bar or the parental favourite: It'll be fun once you get there! :D ).

I do remember dressing up for the first time. Clearly it wasn't the full monty with dress + lippy :D I was young, perhaps 6 or 7 and my Mum had put the laundry away in the airing cupboard. On looking in to get a fresh pair of pants, my hand landed on a pair of tights instead. Curious, I took them out and tried them on. It felt both right and wrong. Right in that they didn't feel alien although clearly they were as far away as any of my boy clothes. Wrong, as I knew that other boys didn't do.

There was this fear - almost a witch-hunt among the boys at school - that any sign of femininity meant you were a softie... or gay. In fact, showing any emotion - anything other than anger - was against this unwritten male code. This, as we know, is complete b*ll*cks. :) Perhaps that's why I didn't fit in. I may have wanted to be one of the lads, desperately so at times, but looking back now, I know that it was never in my heart to be like them. You know what? I find that it doesn't bother me. I'm happy as I am; a smug bloke in a dress. :)

Have a good weekend,
Lynn
x

[ Today's Lyric: She Bangs The Drums by The Stone Roses. ]

ps: I drove by a blue beamer today and I'm sure there was a tranny driving. I would have waved by she had her head down and seemed to be trying to hide behind the wheel.

pps: Emma' tagged me with a blog meme. So here's the reply....

What knocked Razz flat, crumpling her unexpected, unrecoginized body into a heap on the expensive Persian rug, was simple shock: cocaine-pure and twice as cold. Okay, so the person in the mirror was young, maybe a good thirty years younger than Razz was and the body was really hers. Razz realized, though she'd always thought of herself thinner at that age. ~ Lucifer's Dragon, J C Grimwood.

The game is to find your nearest book - not the phone book! :) - and open page 123. Find the fifth sentence and post the next three. After that, tag five more folk and say who tagged you. So, here's five people and thanks Emma!

Jessica

Pandora

Penny

Rachel

Vanessa

I could only pick five folk. Sorry!

Friday, May 09, 2008

"Among the fields of gold..."

Howdy y'all,

Summer has truly arrived hasn't it? Well, at least in the Midlands it has. The sun's been shining and the Great British public has stripped off due to the warmth. Gone are the coats, jumpers and boots - replaced by cropped trousers and strappy vests. Luckily, apart from a few offenders (wink), this trend is restricted to just the women-folk. :)

Today's lyric is a song title - Sting to be specific, but I'd accept Eva Cassidy too - although I could have gone for 'And it was all yellow' from Coldplay.... but I'm not a fan.

(Ed: *ahem*)

Ummm? Oh yes. So why the line? Glad you asked :) The fields around the southern parts of Nottinghamshire are aglow with oil seed rape. Indeed when driving through the countryside, you seem to be in a sea of yellow flowers. It certainly brightens up the view! Luckily the smell is quite nice and I hear that it doesn't upset hay-fever sufferers. In some ways it's a shame that Google Earth / MS wotsit aren't a bit more real time because I'd like to see just how much rape seed we've got around us. Surely we can't be eating that much marg? Is it destined for our fuel tanks instead as bio-fuel?

This leads us - because basically this blog is a stream of consciousness - (Ed: the Saints' be praised for the delete button!) to the future. I'm obsess- no, 'obsessed' is too strong a word - keen? interested? No... fascinated? Yup - fascinated with the change of the past to the future. I love to see old buildings, new ones go up and even the shift from what was once 'cutting edge' and is now an accepted part of the background. The same applies to fashion and not just because I'm a tranny. Okay. Well perhaps because I am a tranny. Let's face it, most (straight) blokes don't give a hoot do they? :)

In that regard, photos are like the record of our architecture. They let us see who we've been and what was once 'cutting edge' is now old hat. We move. We change. Indeed it seems a shame, to me at least, that a longer term record isn't kept of our high streets and city centres as buildings are ripped up and replaced with new ones. I don't mind change, but sometimes I'd like to see what's gone before. I've read that with the rise of digital storage, we run the risk of losing our photo records as CD corrupt or formats become obsolete. Ahhh, the price of progress. :)

Here's to a sunny weekend!
Lynn
x

Thursday, May 01, 2008

"We're programmed that way,
In God we trust"

Hi,

Some days the writing muse just isn't with me. Early today I was pondering what I could write about but nothing - yes, nothing - sprang to mind. Maybe creativity is like sleep: you can't force it.

It wasn't until I'd got home and played with the kids that things started to click into place. In my son's room I could hear him giggling with joy as his Mum tickled him and got him ready for bed. In my arms, my baby daughter was slipping into sleep while I fed her a bottle. I know parents love their children, it's wired into us to ensure survival.

Perhaps then this is why the news of the man - and I use that term vaguely as I see little humanity in him - who locked his daughter away for so many years and then... Now this will sound melodramatic, so please forgive me, but my fingers halt when I try to type 'rape her'. I struggle to comprehend how someone can do that. At this time, words fail me. Perhaps it is better not to know why people do that.

I think about the children born into that vile world and then I look at my own kids. If we have souls, what twist of Fate ensures you 'land where you land'?

I like to dwell on the positive; that perhaps there is a point to this life yet when things like what happened in Austria, my gut instinct hopes that there's someone or something Out There(tm) that'll dish out vengeance. I know that is wrong and it'll do no good, but my nature - no, the anger in me - wants that. I want that man to know, to understand what he did.



In other more cheery news, Rachel's posted a link about a new TG focused study. It only takes a few minutes to fill out and it's about your life experience. Maybe I should have blogged about that! Oh well!! :)

Take care and enjoy the long weekend!
Lynn
x

[ Today's lyric: Front Line Assembly's Bio-Mechanic ]