Saturday, August 26, 2006

Not in the mood

Food Guilt

Do you get this? You're trying to watch your weight - well, in so much as you're trying to cut down rather than watch is go up that is - yet realistically you've got to eat. Not eating makes the old metabolism go 'Cripes! No food - absorb all calories!!' and makes you ratty.

So, I'm sat tucking into a small piece of birthday cake - see below - and my inner Gillian McKeith is saying 'noooo!' It's a feckin' birthday, you can't not eat just a bit of cake. Yet, once you've eaten it, that's it (unless you're bulemic, but let's not go there). Possibly then I should adhere to the advice about dieting of christmas - don't do it. Cutting down during the feastive period - or in this case, special occasions - just makes you miserable.

So in an effort to avoid future food guilt attacks, I've taken to walking as much as I can rather than sitting around at work eating all the pies. So far, so good.

No more Jo?

Do any of you follow the links off this page? If you do you'll notice one going off to Jo's blog: InnerGirl. Luckily for her she has an inner girl rather than an inner Gillian McKeith. Still, at least I can make a granola porridge at 3am. :-)

Well, Jo's blog is no more. She's decided to cut back on the blogging and spend more time with her family. Yeah, I appreciate that sounds a bit like a Tory MP bowing out, but seriously I feel a little sad that she's called it a day. Yes, I appreciate that your family (and marriage) are very important. However, it is also important to take care of your needs too. You see, reading Psychology magazine isn't always good for you [wink] - or in my case, Armchair Psychologist - but if you don't take care of your wants and desires - who will?

I'm not going to deride Jo's decision for withdrawing the blog, that is her decision and I'm sure she had very good reasons to do so. What I am worried about is the thought of someone like her trying to put the lid on the whole thing and going back to being Mr Vanilla (no, not the Ice Cream man who drives around on Sunday). Denial puts you under huge pressure and put anything under enough pressure and it will eventually explode.

I'm hopeful someone will prove that theory with the Chuckle Brothers but I've had no takers yet. BTW, if you're a lawyer for the Chuckle Brothers that gag was meant ironically. No, really.

Dressing up?

I don't know about the rest of you in TV land, but somehow the mood to put all the gear on has (again) vanished somewhat. I know Trannyseason isn't due to start until the nights begin to draw in, but surely we're not just autumn & winter creatures? Possibly trannys have some link to vampires: only seen after dark, secretive, pale skin, bright lips, dodgy fashion sense (always seen in evening wear). Nah...

Gender Roles

Today we all went off to a kid's party. The usual thing happened, the women ended up in the kitchen while the menfolk stood about and drank. Where was I? Playing with the kids in the garden of course. Kids are fun and they really make me laugh with there honestly - sometimes 90lbs of blunt honesty. It's not everyday that you can exercise your imagination by drawing 'wheels' on two cardboard boxes and have toddler racing.

On the way home H. recounted how some of the wives where pissed off that their husbands wouldn't play with the kids like I did. (woo! ego moment! kerching!). Does being a tranny mean you have less fear of non-macho rolls like childcare? If it does, it would be a pay off for having a husband who loves frocks, so maybe that goes to prove the old line about clouds and silver linings.


The Matalan catalog dropped through the other day and after leafing through it, I decided to drop by. Sadly, a lot of the stock advertised just wasn't out yet - why do they do that? Anyone know? What was out, or rather I should say, what had been out had now gone. Those round toed courts I had my eyes on had sold out in black.

Honestly, it's like being Cinderella's ugly sister when it comes to shoes. The ones you want never bloody fit! [Sigh] Those of us who are not a size 6 will forever be thwarted in our quest to get cute round toed shoes to fit. Maybe I should be trying Tall & Small instead.

The Daily Blah

This morning I stopped to fill the car up with petrol (obviously, not literally) and popping in to pay, I caught the headline from the Daily Panic. 'Romanians to swamp Britain!' screamed the front page. Swamp Britain? What, as in make it all boggy, fill it with gators and rednecks? Shurely shome mishtake. Still, it's nice to see the UK doing its bit for race relations. W*nkers.

Friday, August 11, 2006


Q. What does every t-girl do when they're feeling a bit miffed?

A. Go shopping of course!

So, rather than fight my gender conditioning (what does that mean? I have no idea!), I sloped off early from work and did a quick tour around Matalan and Next Clearance. Both stores had a big sale on, and you know what, there was nothing that caught my eye. Sometimes the sales are like that, you go in hoping to catch a bargain, but often it's merely the collection of dodgy clothes they couldn't sell earlier in the year at full price. In some stores, it seems they can't shift them at a fraction of the price either. I went in hoping to pick up a denim skirt, but neither shop had any. I guess I must be between seasons...

This lack lustre affair doesn't compare well to the shopping trip H and I had last week. H. wanted some new summer clothes and a wedding outfit. No, not a bridal gown - don't get excited. :-) We had a good trounce around the shops and did get some bargains. Debenhams were having a shoe sale and neither of us could get our feet in the size 8 round-toes stillies. FFS. I do like the look out round toed high heels, but unless I can get a 9 (where I can try them on) I think it may not be meant to be.

I've also put a little weight back on - certainly in the lower tummy area - not that I mind overly. I guess I can blame the fantastic desserts that H. and I have been enjoying. I just hope my girl clothes still fit when I come to get them out of the wardrobe. That reminds me, one thing I did spot on my travels was M&S rather impressive shapewear. I had my eye out for some after I watched How to Look Good Naked. Not that I plan to go naked, but given a choice between shapewear and pudding, or being 14 and hungry - I'm willing to try the corset route. Men, don't we just love a quick fix? :-)

Given the combination of not going out (too hot, too busy), a poor en drab shopping experience, I'm wondering when I can next get out to the shops in tgirl mode. I think I'll have to save the pennies and wait for a cooler day before I venture forth again.

Thanks for reading.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Ghosts of the past

How are you? Feeling good I trust. So... what's been going on? Well, other than a complete lock down out outbound flights from the UK. Scary stuff indeed.

I must confess to being somewhat confused by the plans of folk who perform these shocking deeds. While I understand that the complete lack of a voice, means that people will use any means to attract political attention - just what benefits are gained from killing innocent civilians?

Perhaps we decadent Westerners are The Enemy and are legitmate targets. It saddens me to think so, as if you don't get people 'on your side', just how to hope to influence those that make the decisions? I'm no history expert, but in recent years, the Ulster problem seems to have been resolved through talk, rather than through violence.

I'd like to think I'm a fairly laid back person and that others have a right to live their lives as they see fit. However, when I hear about people plotting to kill ordinary Schmoes like you and I, I have to fight the urge to let reason fly out of the window and jump on the Terrorist Witchhunt bandwagon yelling like the Kenny Everett character of old, General Marvin. Round 'em up, put 'em in a field, and BOMB THE BASTARDS! Of course, one may argue that that's entirely the reason why we've got terrorist actions. Faced with the seemingly impossible odds of knocking the West's military power, it is not the easy option to strike at the civilians? Are we in a Catch 22 situation? They bomb us, we carpet bomb them, they bomb us, we invade, repeat ad nauseum - or is that too simplistic?

[sigh] Answers on a post card to the usual address.

But on to more trivial matters.

Old 'Friends'

The other day the Wee Man and I were shopping in town for my Mum's birthday. We'd forsaken the pushchair because he likes shoulder rides at the mo. Half an hour in and I'm feeling an inch shorter, but one happy dad. We stroll into Next - mainly 'cos me Ma likes the PJs in there - for a look around. Who should I see but an old school friend. Friend? Well, once upon a time....

[cue flashback]

BP (not his real name) and had been good mates, so much so that I thought I could trust him with the big Tranny Secret. Note to young trannys: 1) Never give up a secret while p*ssed and 2) Never give up a secret while sober. I was right about trust, but only for a while. I left town to go to College and he stayed behind. We drifted apart and things turned sour. Gee, does like read like some f**ked up chit-lit novel or what? Maybe I should swap the names about and do a novel. :-)

Anyhoo, I'm sat on the bus going to College one day, reading a letter from another school friend. You can tell it was the early 90s, people actually wrote to each other rather than emailing or texting each other. The sun was shining, it was a week before the end of term and all was well with the world (apart from a strange high pitched whistling noise coming from something bomb shaped from about 500ft up and dropping). Fitting in well in London. Blah. Have new boyf. Blah. Bad news now. Should warn you that B. has told everyone about your love of dressing up.


I read that last paragraph again. Sighed and went very, very pale. When I got to class my mate - bless his socks - asked: "You alright? Looks like you've had a shock?" I lied and said everything was fine.

So, what did I learn from this lesson in life? Well, for a long time I took it that you can't trust anyone. Eventually, anyone will - to quote Ripley in Aliens - f*** each other over for a percentage. With time, I've found that not to be true. It's a cliche, but time does heal. What seemed like such a big deal at the time, has now worked out for the best. I stayed away (coward) and made a new life with a fabby wife, wee man and I've got it pretty easy.

[end flashback]

So, what do you do when meet the guy who outed you to your [ahem] mates who had a really good laugh at your expense?* I had one of those High Fidelity moments - you know, the fantasy sequence in the movie where John Cusack's character daydreams a witty comeback or a gangster beatdown on the customer from hell?

Instead, I stopped and said "hi, would you be BP from so-and-so school. I'm blah."; it took a second for him to place me and we had a short chat while his girlfriend hovered at the fringes. Having been pleasant and with nothing more to say, I said cheerio. Then the oddest thing happened. I'd always remembered him as this cock-sure king of the world kinda guy, but instead, he made this lame-assed joke and tittered nervously. It was then that I saw through all the years of jokes and gags at other people's cost. As Wee Man and I walked out the shop, I'd got back an extra two inches of height and a f***ing great grin on my face.

I didn't get mum the PJs tho. :-)

* Actually, that's not completely true. One of the group - and I wonder if this shows who your proper mates are (as me Dad would say) said on the subject, "Frankly, my dear - I don't give a damn." which had me chuckling for a while. Cheers to you, C - whatever you're up to.