Friday, May 25, 2007

"I need to get some sleep"

Hello you,

Good week? I hope so.... and it's a long weekend too. Result!

Nightowl or earlybird?

Rachel said something in passing the other day about early starts and that kicked my subconscious. Are you an earlybird? Tucked up in bed before the late news and jumping out of bed at the dawn chorus? Or, maybe a nightowl? Is your brain at it's best around 11pm and you're happy until the small hours (provided you get a lie-in the next day).

Personally, I'm a night person. No, not creature of the night (Ed: T-t-t-t-t-touch me!! I wanna be dirty) - just a night bird. I find it easier to stay up than get up early. It's always been like this. My brain seems to switch on in the late evening and, if I've managed a lie-in, I'm normally good to go until the small hours. It seems all the things that I'd like to do (read, watch TV, blog or research on t'interweb) mean that I'm up until late. Not so good on a school night, but good for conferences or days with late meetings :)

A friend once joked to me if from an evolutionary point of view, nightowls and earlybirds where a useful thing to have around. While one group are kipped out in the cave, the other half are up and awake, keeping an eye on the place. It sounded very plausible, but then we had had a couple of glasses of falling down water.

So which one are you? Or, are you neither? Perhaps you're the modern-day Rip Van Winkle or like the Iron Lady. Apparently she got by on 3 hours kip (after bathing in virgin's blood?).

[ Today's lyric, Insomnia by Faithless ]

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

"The bounce has gone from his bungee."

Ey oop little old lady,

After a battle through the city traffic, I arrived at my meeting only to find that it had been cancelled. Ah well, such is life. Now, I could grumble about this, but I won't. Let's see... in town and no-one expects me back until 2pm. Righto, long lunch it is then. :)

The funny thing is I've kinda been expecting the tranny genes to switch off over the last month or so. Faced with a couple of hours shopping, I found myself kind of uninterested. Something must be wrong with me because I found the USB memory sticks more interesting that Ravell's shoe display.

I think part of it (as Penny wittily blogged about) is that the new fashions just don't do owt for me. Most of the smock tops I saw seemed to be cheapy polyester or a bad investment. It's not that I stick to classics, I like a trend as much as the next girl, but I'd like whatever I buy to last more than a single season. It's just that some of these new-retro tops are so garish. I saw a couple of ladies in town not following that fashion (one had on a simple vest and jeans) and they looked very cool. I guess we're back to wearing what you want, rather than what you think you should be wearing. :)

Tomorrow's the NC meeting and I'm in two minds about going. Yesterday I took a peak in the wardrobe and all that registered was my collection of shirts. No outfit came together. It's almost as if I'm tired of the clothes I've got. Maybe a good night's sleep will put a spring back into my step.

Some folk need something proper to worry about eh? :)

[ BTW - bonus points if you can tell me which children's TV show the greeting is from. Note - not the Wallace bit! ]

Saturday, May 19, 2007

"You're history,
That's what you are."


Been keeping it real, sista? Select! :)

It's been a bit of a strange week. One packed with memories, or more accurately, ghosts. Echoes of things passed, dredged up from my backstory, cued up by the oddest of triggers.

Monday: During a meeting at work, someone (very kindly) offered me a cup of tea. It wasn't until I drank it that memory kicked in. The tea was just like my Gran used to make - I know that sounds a bit daft. Tea's tea right? Nah. I don't know if it was the blend or how the person had made it. But what cemented the memory for me was the shape of the cup. Slightly triangular with a hint of art deco to it. For a moment I was back in Gran's dining room; sat on one of her old chairs listening to the clock on the wall tick-tock and the soft ping and hiss of the gas fire. Outside I could see to the bottom of the yard and over the brick wall to the park.

Wednesday: I traipsed in through the rain and took a short cut though one of the old buildings. You know how houses and buildings have their own smell? Well the stairwell had one like my Dad's old workshop. A strange mix of dust and a whiff of ozone. Again, another childhood memory of waiting for Dad to lock up after we'd been in town shopping.

Thursday: I was in the north of the county, not too far from where my (other) Gran & Grandad used to take us as kids (as grandparents are want to do). The town had changed significantly since I'd been (it was the 80s, maybe even the 70s) but again, it all came flooding back. Walking through town holding my granny's hand as we crossed the road. Although now, that same street is pedestrianised.

The funny thing is, I haven't thought about these memories in a very long time. I don't look back and wish things were like that. I know they're just snapshots. Maybe not even real memories, but imaginings of tiny fragments of fact. There are also things I would prefer to forget. Silly things. Moments of embarrassment or social gaffs. I doubt that the other party would remember, yet my mistakes ripple up. I wonder, if you could edit the past, would I - or would you - ever be satisfied? Would you tumble through time trying to make everything just so? Is it better to concentrate purely 'in the now' or do you embrace who you where?

I remember reading that much of our memory is made-up. If that's true, can we ever be sure of what really happened? How long does a memory stay before imagination works its magic over it? Does it get distilled down to a capsule of words, smells or fragments? Gas fire, tea cup, taste, granny's house?

Perhaps that's another reason why I blog. To get down on paper - so to speak - my thoughts and feelings at the time. Of course, this blog isn't a 100% accurate picture of me. How could it be? I only write so much and I choose what to put. It's highly editted. Do you really want to read about project meetings? Nah! Me neither and I have to sit through them! :-)

[ This week's lyrics: Shakespear's Sister ]

Monday, May 14, 2007

"Thoughts arrive like butterflies,
Oh, he don't know, so he chases them away"

Hi there,

Good weekend? I hope so. It's been a bit rainy, but hey, at least the lawn won't have karked it eh?

How much do you hold back? I don't mean biting your tongue or leaving out life's minutae; more... self censorship. There's been a couple of occasions with this blog, although it happens more on comments I leave with others, where I'll re-read what I've put, re-do it, only then to delete that too. Is it a lack of confidence, not wanting to offend or just that one's own jokes frequently look rather flat? I'm just not sure.

I also tend to find myself rambling (Ed: No sh**!) where a person's post will filter through my mind, pinging off new thoughts as I'm typing a reply. If I don't get what I want to say down early, my reply starts to make less and less sense - especially if I start to diliberate over it.

I guess it goes back to something I feel I've posted before: that sometimes there's so much going on in my head - like a riot of butterflies - that it's difficult to nail down any one particular thought and go with that.

Then there are the posts you don't make. Intimate and personal things that are best left between partners and friends. Not so much dirty laundry, but stuff you don't want to share. The latter could sound sappy or exclude people outside that cicrle and I'm not big on cliques.

I did the censorship thing the other night. Stephanie had posted her feelings and a number of us had responded: messages containing questions and/or support. After reading her response to those, I had a creative burst and blogged about that.

But... it just didn't feel right. I don't know if it was too invasive (I'd copied text from Stephanie's blog); too personal (you don't want to accidentally put your foot in it) or just too me-me-me. Yeah, I know this is a blog where the key theme is me, but if I'm honest, I'd rather talk about matters that promote discussion. Ironically, I don't post very frequently to the tranny forums.

[time passes]

Now I've re-written what I've put down and tweaked the odd word here and there. Having re-read it, I now look at it and wonder 'why am I posting this? What am I trying to say?' The delete button hovers to the right of my little finger, yet I hold off, stuck in contemplation. I'll put this in draft for now. It's good to have a bit of filler to fall back on eh? :-)

[ Update, well, it's made it out of draft :) Also, Google have updated their Analytics system. The new one's rather impressive. ]

[ Update 2: Seeing as I seem to post using another's words, credit is in order. Today's title comes from Pearl Jam's Even Flow. Two Hornby points if you got it! :) ]

Friday, May 11, 2007

"Time goes by... so slowly"

Hi kids,

No deep journey into the tranny soul tonight, my brain feels like it's ready to shutdown. With a bit of luck, maybe I can coax a little more activity out of it.

We had a consultant in at work. To those of you who have had the pleasure, you'll know all about Death By Powerpoint and the 2pm graveyard shift. You know, that bit where the animal part of your brain - which is being completely underused - kicks off with 'food eaten. now sleep.' It's touch and go then until it's time for tea and biscuits.

Somewhere in the dead zone, I found myself pondering something far more intereting than the security workshop. Okay, yes, it was clothing related (so sue me) and I realised someone had asked me a question. "So what to you think of the solution?"

Ooops. Busted! Now, it would have been rather handy if my imagination had used the items on the whiteboard and filled in the blanks. (Ed: or you hadn't been daydreaming). But no, instead I got a Obi-Wan moment delivered in Morgan Freeman's wonderful voice:

"Security synergy? To me, it's just a made up thing, a consultant's phrase, so that young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie and charge the firm a four figure sum to tell management something they already know but are either too dumb or scared to admit it to our customers."

All this happened in but an instant; that's the wonder of your imagination. Perhaps the gentleman took my silence to mean that I was considering saying something of deep importance. Unable to shake Morgan's advice, I frowned and looked at the board. "I'm just not sure that that level of redundency is required." That seemed to do the trick and off he went into techno-double-speak.

Normal service will resume when my brain has recovered.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

"Yeah, here comes the water,
It comes to wash away the sins of you and I"


I have stared at the white white box that is the Blogger Editor. Left it and come back to it. Put off the thought that creatively, I'm dry. But, no, it's not about wit or 'having something to say(tm)' - it's about effort or drive.

It's not all lipstick, heels, self-doubt and elation - other things go on my life too. To that end, I'm having a lull in the tranniness. I think it may because we moving towards that time of year where the tranny genes begin to slow down. They never turn off - after all, they make us who we are - but they do go quiet.

For example, on Wednesday I was in town and I had the chance to do a spot of shopping. Rather than go on a shoe or top quest, I bought a sarnie and a bottle of water and then went and watched the world go by in Market Square. Shirt sleeves up, tie undone and headphones in. How many million did we pay for a large flat square? Still, maybe it'll allow us to enjoy a concert in the heart of Nottingham. Now, that would be cool.

But why the lull? It's not guilt and I'm still keeping up the war against my inner Wookie (Ed: Laugh it up fuzzball). I wonder if it's a hormone thing? Does your brain chemistry change during the summer months? Do your sex hormones shift because in the dim and distant, having a baby in the winter months meant cold nights and a lack of food? Hmmm... I feel a bit of search engine work coming on.

Talking of Nottingham, that reminds me that I've posted the first draft of a leaflet for the group. There's been a few minor alterations, but so far, people seem happy with it. It's only a few paragraphs and if all goes to plan, it'll be sitting pretty on the stand at Pride this year. If it helps a few folk find their way, that can only be a good thing.

I hope you have a great bank holiday!