A mix of lows and highs this week
On the long queue back home, I'll often listen to a podcast. I guess, that's just the not-so-modern way to describe, a recording of a radio show. Except now, you don't need to wait for the live show and tape it. :-) Oh, technology and your ceaseless steps to make our lives a little easier. Now, if you could do something about making my car drive itself, I could have a nap or read a book, on the way home. :-)
So, in amongst the usual suspects of Friday night comedy and witty news panel shows, I check out Desert Island Discs. For those not in the know, the (hopefully) quick answer is it's an interview show, where the guest picks five records that they'd like to take, if, Heaven forfend, they should find themselves marooned on a desert island somewhere. Those and one luxury item. That gives some structure to a few questions about the guest's life history.
I don't listen to it every week, because some days, I've no idea who the guest is. Plus, if it's about sport, that's an instant skip for me, unless the sports person is some one who's lived, if you get my drift. Anyhoo, this week was Tom Hanks and he, in my humble opinion, had a few things to say that struck a chord.
At one point, he quoted a teacher of his, that all good plays are about loneliness. Mr Hanks it seems, is someone who through a large portion of his younger years, was alone. That, hit me in the heart. This was as I rounded the corner at work, and, melodramatic that I am, I could feel my eyes prickle, as he spoke. Not for me, but for the simple beauty of his words.
For whatever reason, I've often felt like an outsider. Not rough & tumble, for one group. Not studious, to be with clever ones. Too 'boyish' to hang with the girls and, honestly, I didn't fit in with them either. I certainly wasn't part of the cool kids. The kind people, they are the ones I remember fondly.
If it was a trans thing, or a me thing, I still don't know. I can and do like my own company. I can be lost in my thoughts. Not from a pseud's corner perspective, but simply working through a story or an idea. As Mr Hanks went on to say, there's a difference between loneliness and solitude. The latter, I can dig, as I've mentioned before. But to be alone? No, no thank you. I am, amongst many badges or labels, a social creature at heart.
Why do I have occasional bouts of this? Does it all come down to wanting to just wanting to belong, or to be accepted? Is it that I've found a tribe, but I'm not fully there? Or is, that I need to learn to know when to stop, and just enjoy what there is? The fruits of one's labours, as it were. Questions, questions...
Introspection aside, Chameleons this week was one of those events to hold in your heart, and think back on fondly. I had an early pass from the Ever Lovely Mrs J, and I made good time around the ring road. Pat was just getting changed as I arrived upstairs and despite my issue with some white skinny jeans (they need to go back), I was changed quickly and downstairs unusually for me.
We had a visit from TrendCo, a local wig retailer, or to be more accurate, a second visit. Clearly, we mustn't have scared them off. Stock was brought and set up, and then the browsing began. Full price, sale price and bargain items were to be had, and in good sizes too.
I saw a number of people try things on and many of them, purchasing too. It was far from the pressure sale of feeling the need to buy something, after being helped. Instead, with friends around, the advice was open and honest. Nicola and Steph worked their hair magic on us and pictures were taken, hair trimmed and smiles given.
Given the fit and feeling - yes, I often shop by emotion. Yeah, I'm odd :-) - it was an easy decision to make.
Nicola had also held back a number for me, as a thank you for organising the event. I really wasn't expecting this, so it was quite a pleasant surprise. The wig, which you'll see in a mo, was a light brown, rather than my usual red/ginger colour, and also it was longer and more wavy than I'm used to. Oddly, wavy hair and a side parting is something *ahem* ladies with square faces should aim for. Having tried it and tried it again, I liked the style, but not the length. Cue the offer of a trim, and so I took a seat.
Like a lot of blokes my age, my hair is going south. Going south, as in migrating to my feet via my nose. Not that it stopped off at my beard, which I sometimes feel would be nice, to try a 'tache or a beard in the winter. Like Nicole pointed out, last week, I, like she, don't bother with a shave unless it's a family outing, or a trans event.
Anyhoo, I sat in the seat, while a gown was placed over my shoulders and out came the scissors and the brush. It was a very pleasant experience and I felt rather pampered. It also took me back to when I had long hair of my own, but this was a happy memory, not a bitter-sweet one. After a chat about how Nicole and Steph got into the wig business (and are doing well, I should add), it was time for the reveal and I was very happy with the result.
|Before and After|
There was a spot of Hoovering to do as we packed up and Tania, who'd popped in, had a word about the banners for this year's Trans Pride event. Invasion, Chameleons and Notts Trans Hub, are joining up, so hopefully, it'll all go well again and there's a funding page, if you're feeling generous.
After tidying up, it was time for some snaps with Val on the stairs and then time to 'de fab' to be him again. Well, at least with a spring in my step... which leads me to the item in the news about a company's dress code insisting women wear heels. I wore my new wedges and my feet hurt by the end of the night. Clearly, some extra foot padding is required. So, I'd say, yes, women and trans-something-or-other folk, suffer for our fashion :-) To insist a woman wears heels at work? No, not unless the person in question can also do a nine hour shift on their feet. If they did, they might not be quite so insistent.