This week has been.... somewhat odd: a mix of highs and lows. The slightly ironic title will make more sense as you read on. Well, assuming you wanna read on. :-)
The start of the week - or the end of the last one if you will - was truly top. Good company, a trip to the park with the nippers and a blue sky of early summer. A sky so blue and perfect that it seemed to fit in my childhood memories of summers passed.
Tuesday I felt the familiar creeping of the black dog; that fug of disinterest that cloaks you... (Ed: your ability to bullsh*t seem to be okay tho)... and I put it down to just tiredness. However, by the end of Wednesday, it was back. Seemed the sound of heels and the swish of skirts reminded me how far away my own appointment with glamour was. Not a good time really. :-\
I get this from time to time and it annoys the sh** out of me. It seems I have no energy. I just want to sit and let the world go by. Become a silent passenger in it all. But, I know as a parent or a worker, that's not an option and based on previous episodes, it's counterproductive. Staying busy can be the key.
So, I forced myself to go for a long walk - one of the joys of a company with sites dotted around the city. Getting out into the sunshine helped, but I still wonder what's bringing the loom of darkness to my door? I hope it's just work and not another episode of being a mardy b*stard. :-) That or not enough dressing? But how can that be? Aren't tranny genes set to sleep around summer time? I think the latter is a survival mechanism: I mean, high summer with all that padding and a wig? You could combust :-)
Anyways... shoveling through the pile of emotional dung, I did experience two wee gems of good fortune this week. I came out to an on-line friend (non-trans) earlier in the week. She took it well; I mean - and no disrespect to the lass in question - do you ever really know? I guess it comes down to trust and I'm glad I made that step. We've had a chat about it and it's been a very postitive experience.
The other gem is that it was time for Nottingham Chameleons on Thursday. I've been checking up on the group's inbox (as Sandy & Tracey are away). That was good to do as it made me feel like I'm giving something back. I mean, ignoring my tedious white boy pain [irony] because realistically, I've got it good: a family, no strings attached dressing up, a steady job and my health.
Some of the emails you get are from folk who want to come along, but they're just so scared. I know some girls have rolled up in the car and - bless them - haven't been able to to open the door and make it into the venue. That first step is, I think, one of the hardest we have to make. I mean you're about to visit a place full of people you don't know and pretty much show the secret you've been hiding for so long. To come out to a partner, yes, that is one thing, but that's not always in 'frock & roll' mode is it? Here you're going to show your other face (and wardrobe), the whole tranny focused uncertaintity swings into action.
A night out at a social group, well, there you are for all the world to see - or so it would seem - and what must they make of you? Honestly - and if the group is worth it's salt - a friendly and knowing smile should be first. Get any tranny, even the most *ahem* talented of divas to show you their early photos and trust me, we all gotta start somewhere.
[ Today's lyric: Rockin The Suburbs by Ben Folds ]