"Ooh shiny."

I was pointed at the following article earlier:

http://www.popall.co.uk/news/2000/pubpaysdamagestobannedsexswapdrinker.asp

( Original article under cut )

I'm pleased that the trans woman concerned won damages. However, the tone of the article is mightily offensive.

That this comes from a group of solicitors is deeply troubling, they ought to know better than to be apparently siding with discrimination against trans people.

The excuse given "…all businesses will now have to go out of their way to ensure they do not offend [transsexuals]. The effect will be more bureaucratic worry for firms already struggling with red tape…" is oh so reminiscent of those used when the race relations act was brought in.

It's not a bureaucratic nightmare to treat people like human beings, it's actually quite simple to treat people with dignity and respect. It's more difficult, time consuming, and ultimately expensive to treat folks like they are a lump of dogshit stuck to your shoe.

ETA: A bit of digging, as it's not immediately obvious, is that the article is from May 4th, 2000. However, the point still stands that it attitude of the solicitors is and remains unacceptable.

As regular views should have noted by now, over then last month when the weather is ok I try to get out for a walk on a Sunday. I know to day is not Sunday, but the weather forecast being rather rubbish for the rest of the weekend, persuaded me, once I'd woken up, to drag some clothes on and go out in between showers.

The walk up thought the wood to the canal was perfumed with the smell of wild garlic, which will be in flower soon. Considering it was early afternoon on a Bank Holiday there were few boats moving, and few people out and about. Walking was less of a pleasure, not because of the weather, but because it was very slippery underfoot.

I walked along the canal for a while, and then left it to cut through the flashes into town. As I left the canal I was hit (literally) by a heavy hailstorm. Large hailstones bouncing off your nose hurt!

I was crossing Witton Mill meadows when I caught up with a couple (1 female, 1 male), and their somewhat nervous dog, heading in the same direction as me. As I was passing them, and we exchanged greetings, as you do, the following conversation took place:

F: "I'm sure I know you." …looks at me again… "No, I think I've got you mixed up with someone else."
Me: "Oh?"
F: "Do you know Steve and Hayley?"
Me: "Yes."
F: "I thought you were Alan, a friend of Hayley's brother. David, is it?"
Me: "No, Adam's Hayley's brother. I used to be Alan."
F: "Oh. I'm Claire."

And the conversation turned to other things, and no mention was made of my "I used to be Alan" comment.

I left them and their somewhat muddy dog and walked up through Carey Park, where the thorn hedges are just starting to blossom.



Alice.

I was in the pub this afternoon watching the Ireland v Italy rugby match, and at half time a girl, well more like late 30s woman calls me over.

H: "Do you mind is I ask a fairly personal question"
M: "You can ask, but I won't guarantee to answer"
H: "Fair enough. It's just a question about your boobs"
M: "Okaay..." *slightly boggling at this point*
H: "I'm almost flat chested and your boobs are bigger than mine. I'd like but can't afford a boob job. So, what have you used to get them like that?"

There followed a chat about HRT, and breast development during puberty.

The last 24 hours have to say the least been interesting...

Alice.

Right, so, tonight I went down the pub to meet up with friends as I do most Friday evenings. It's usually a bit of a natter, and a few drinks (non-alcoholic in my case).

There's this lad Paul, I've spoken to him on a number of occasions mainly in passing, over the last 5 or so years. I wouldn't class him as a friend. TBH, I think even acquaintance might be pushing it a touch, and I certainly don't fancy him. The usual suspects (WANOLJ), Carl, Dawn, David, Denise and I are sitting in one corner of the pub. We'd been there long enough that I was halfway done my second pint of lime and soda, when Paul comes over and starts making a nuisance of himself.

After a moment he wanders off and goes to annoy some other people, but he is soon to return.

Paul (to me): "How ya doin' guy?"
Me: Ok, but don't call me guy please."
P: "See ya wearing a bra now" *grabs and twangs my bra strap*
Me: "Stop that and don't do it again!"
P: *rests hand on my shoulder*
Me: "Could you take your hand off my shoulder?"
P: *starts kneading my shoulder*
Me: "stop it now, and don't touch me again."
P: *continues to knead shoulder*
Me: *swings round and takes a swipe at him*
P: "I thought we were friends"
Me: "Don't ever touch me again"
P: "Sorry"
Me: "The best way you can say sorry is by going away and leaving me alone."
P: *goes, leaves pub shortly after*

Sometimes, I start to hate men, particularly those who don't seem to know the difference between friendliness and molestation.

Can I kill him now?

Alice.

Tonight I took laconizein out and fed him pizza. If you like chillies I can recommend the Romana Etna at Pizza Express. Yum.

Afterwards, whilst sitting in the Balcony Bar at Piccadilly station waiting for our respective trains, I realised, that I'd passed another milestone. That being tonight was the first time out in a social situation wearing a bra.

I also had a slightly surreal experience going to the loo there. The loos are off a corridor, the gents to the left and the ladies to the right. Now it's probably about 3 years since I've used the bar loos and I couldn't remember which door was to which loo, so as I approach the door to the gents I'm naturally looking for the signs on the door., just as I get there a bloke opens the door, and gives me a look and immediately looks at the door on the opposite side of the corridor. He seemed to be relived when I looked that way and opened that door. It seemed to be a "WTF, you can't come in here - it's the Gents" moment.

Coming out of the ladies, just as I'm opening the door a girl was just about to open it and it was almost a "palm meet face" moment. She rapidly apologised, and walked past without even a second glance.

I think tonight rates as a good evening.

EDIT: not even any hassle from the huge crowd of young teens that we were in the middle of whilst walking back to Piccadilly station.

Alice.

I've now had a little time to get my thoughts together about yesterday, and for some reason have chomped my way through a bag of liquorice allsorts. [Come here Bertie, *chomp*]

I have to say that I'm very pleased how it went.

Dr Andrew Davies does, as twiggy_j said, still have the "shiny new car smell" to him, as it were. He doesn't seem to be constrained by the attitudes of the old guard that I've heard much about. He, also, seems to be approachable and I found it very easy to talk to him. He did ask a couple of questions that have left me thinking a little, I'll come back to that in a bit.

That there was no attempt to persuade me that I shouldn't self-medicate, or even a requirement that I stop, is good. If there had been, I'd just have ignored it and gone to see Dr Curtis. He never even commented specifically on the spiro dose (200mg/day). It's been suggested that I just ignore his desire that I reduce the estradiol valerate dose to 4mg/day from 6mg/day. At present I have no intention of reducing the dose. I was naughty though, sitting in the waiting room at the clinic I took my second EV pill of the day. Ooh, slapped wrists. :) He did say that they won't advise my GP on HRT prescribing until the second assessment (late Feb at the earliest, then.).

I was given, on leaving, their draft quality standards stuff, see other post, and made the appointment for the next visit, apparently they only do 60 min consults first thing in the morning (9:30am), or immediately after lunch (1:30pm). A 1:30 appointment was not available until late march, but a 9:30 was available in late February. So, my next appointment is on 26/Feb/08 at 10:30am with Dr Penny Lenihan.

No, that's not a typo, it is at 10:30am; on Tuesdays, she doesn't start until 10:30. That makes things so much easier. Although getting there from here for that timeslot is do-able but only if things are absolutely on-time, and involves the train on which *no* discounts are available — the 7:14 off Stockport that runs non-stop to Euston. So Sarah has graciously offered crash space for the Monday night.

Sarah: have you considered opening a guest house for itinerant Trannies?

What I am less pleased about is the way I felt once I was on the tube from Euston Square to Hammersmith. I shouldn't have been panicky, I'm glad that shinydan had insisted that I call him if there were any problems. It was good to hear a familiar voice, which on it's own had an immense calming effect. Thanks hun, I owe you a big one. It was he who was my first contact once I'd left the hospital after having the bloods drawn (for a change, this time it was a vein in my right arm that got abused). [Must remember to ask them for a copy of the results.]

Meeting up with auntysarah was a pleasure, even if in First Out (or TrannyCentral as she described it) she got sidetracked by the new shiny. It is rather k3wl, and very shiny. If I hadn't already got a iPod Video, I might well have considered the 16Gb one as a replacement for my very flaky iPod photo. After coffee, or in Sarah's case HLT:) and food (the mezze was nice) we whizzed off to meet zoeimogen at Moorgate. After an all to brief time we parted company at Faringdon, them to catch a train to Brighton, and me to carry on to Euston.

Somewhere, I failed to touch in or out properly with my Oyster card and noted as I touched out at Euston Square the display told me to "Seek Assistance". I duly did so, and my card is happy again. I'll know what went wrong and where, once the journey history is updated on the website. All I know at this point there is a balance of £15.40 on the card — so it cost £4.60 to whiz around making the following journeys mainly within Zone 1 (I note on looking on the tube map):
Euston Square - Hammersmith (H&C line)
Hammersmith - Oxford Circus (via Victoria)
Oxford Circus - TCR
TCR - Moorgate
Moorgate - Euston Square

I have to admit, if it hadn't been for auntysarah's mental map I would have got lost at Bank.

I'd hazard a guess that it is 12 years since I last used the tube, and that was just Wimbledon to Olympia and return. I have to say that, yesterday at least, it didn't let me down, but that it does look a little "tired" in places. Euston station though, whilst the main concourse in nice and bright, the platform area gives a very gloomy and grubby impression, as bad if not worse than New Street in Birmingham. And Crewe station is just depressing.

I alluded to some stuff that was said yesterday earlier in this post. It has to do with the donor material, and my feelings towards it. I was asked two questions that have again be causing me to ponder. In some ways they are linked. One being did I have feelings of not being male at a young age, and the other how did I feel in the past about my genitals.

These I find are hard questions to answer, although the latter is easier than the former. There have been lots of times when I have wished they weren't there, but mainly I couldn't care less about them. As to feelings of not being male, I can only say, that it was a sense of wrongness as far beck as I can remember.

Early this morning, I recalled something, from when we were living in Benwell, which put is before October 1967. I distinctly remember trying to invert the boy bits up the inguinal canal.

So, there you have it. All done and dusted, only 4 months to the next visit to "Sainsburys" GIC. In the meantime, I get them a letter from work confirming that I have been "in role" FT there since late last year, and I need to get a copy of the blood test results from them.

Alice.

Right the paper work went off to Charing Cross shortly after lunch. Whatever happened to "Registered Letters"?

Me: "I'd like to send this Registered please."
PO: "Not any more. You need Special Delivery or Recorded now."
Me: "Huh? Er, 1st class Recorded then."
PO: "It'll be £1.04, and can you fill this slip in."

Handed over filled in slip, money and the letter. The counter assistant looked at the address and seemed to suffer a minor "Huh?" moment. But handed over my change and the stamped receipt with a breezy "Thank you miss."

So, now the next step really begins.

Alice.

To the gurl who stuck her nose in my face and called me a "fucking tranny", as I said to you;

"Yes, and I'm more of a lady than you'll ever be."

I've been feeling a bit "blah" today. Although I did get a few things done. Got the new ceiling light fitted in the bathroom. The b/f (shinydan) knows the saga, but briefly, antique brass effect seems to be currently out of fashion - most things are silver or white. Eventually got the replacement eyeball spot from B&Q in Stockport. While fitting it discovered why the lamp holder in the old one had started to crumble; the fitting had been covered by the loft insulation. This is so very not recommended due to heat build up from 100W spot lamps. I therefore had to go into the loft to sort it out. Job duly done I had to have a shower because:

1. the loft is very dirty (there's over a century of grime up there)
2. it's probably wise to wear more than a pair of knickers when crawling around in the loft.
3. it was rather sweaty up there even at 10AM

Then played a bit of Dungeon Siege: Legends of Aranna whilst my hair was drying and a load of washing was doing.

Washing suitably pegged out, I disappeared off to do the shopping, wandered through M&S where I saw a few nice skirts, but not nice enough to persuade me to part with £45 for one. None of the other clothes shops managed to have anything that appealed either. Maybe I'm shopped out at the moment. A quick wander round the food shops provided the wherewithal to make dinner and curry to freeze.

On return home bunged another load of washing in, with finished and was pegged out with just enough time to get to the pub before the start of the Grand National.

Watched that while being blathered at by a very drunk postman. Fortunately he is a good friend, but he'd had far more than was sensible. A year ago I'd probably have been in the same state.

Unusually for me I stayed to watch the footie (I'm not a great fan). During the match I realised what would have made it perfect, that being snuggled up with Dan while watching the game.

Memo: 5 pints of lime and soda is a lot of fluid, and the ladies loo obstinately remains extremely pink...

Now, I always used to find the ogling of passing girls, by the blokes in the pub a bit of a irritation. Now however, I'm beginning to find such behaviour boorish and unacceptable. But what to do about it? I suppose at the end of the there isn't anything I can do really.

So that folks was my Saturday. All that's left is to have my dinner, and catch up with email and Cix.

Alice.

After much thought and starting off with the three page “getting thoughts in order” missive. I’ve ended up with the following text. This and a somewhat more detailed one, were discussed with Susan in HR. This one being preferred as it is not too detailed or personal.

Before the deed is done tomorrow we’ve decided it is wise to have a quick meeting to determine the release strategy. [Hang on that reads like we are about to release a new product. :-O]

An additional bit of information has drifted my way. It turns out that this has recently happened another local company, so there is the possibility of a bit of inter-company information pooling and support.

( The rest behind cut... )

Alice.

I do feel a little miffed about the DVLA. I have received the new V5s for the Bandit and the K, I'm quite pleased with their efficiency. However, they list him as the previous owner, and of course they've incremented the previous owner count by 1.

As they were returned solely for a change of name I'd thought (obviously mistakenly) that the previous owner data would have been preserved. Oh well, I don't like it but I'll have to live with it.

Alice.

Curled up in bed this morning, I was podnering (podnering? erm, pondering). Out of this "navel gazing" came a number of things some of which are:

1. The sooner everyone at work knows the better. I can't carry on the way things are, it is just becoming far too difficult. I know that a date has been agreed on with Susan (Dec 1^st, which is not that far off, but it seems ATM almost like a lifetime away.
2. I really was comfortable last night. It was admittedly amongst those who I consider to be friends, but I was just Alice last night, Alan had been completely banished. Even though it was with friends I had made an effort in choosing clothes etc., and everything just felt right. I just hope that I can recapture that feeling again in the future.
3. Mother must be told. If I don't do this I feel that I am living a lie in some respects, and that I cannot really move on until this is done. Also I'd rather tell her up front rather than her finding out accidentally, as the longer I wait the more likely it is that it will all come out in he wrong way. The big problem is, of course how to tell her. (Yes I know this is a bit of an obsession, but...)
4. I'm having to deal with feelings and emotions I've never really dealt with before, such as feelings of sexual attraction towards others. Essentially some of the things virtually everyone else learns to deal with at a much younger age.

There was lots more, but I don't think that I'll go into them, and indeed, I think I've put much of the above badly anyway.

Another thing that is becoming more of an irritation (? nuisance? not really sure how to put this TBH), is, well, the boy bits... I'll leave the gentle reader to fill in the rest...

However badly I'm putting this, I think it all boils down to an inner feeling that this is all taking too long. In some ways I suppose, I just wish it was possible to wave a magic wand and for everything to be done and dusted. I know in my heart where I want to be and I'm getting impatient because I don't seem to be getting there. It doesn't help that I know that the appropriate standards of care are going to have to be complied with, and it all takes time, but it doesn't make it easier.

Alice.

Still being fairly useless at finding a suitable legal practitioner in Sheffield. I'm determined to have this sorted by the end of next week, certainly if not sworn at least an appointment with a suitable solicitor.

But the longer this drags on the more awkward I feel, as I seem to be trying to be 2 people, rather than just the one.

Alice.

Had a day off from work today. Well supposedly, have dealt with a few support issues, as I always seem to do...

Decided to go into Chester for a wander round the shops, as there were a few bits and bobs that I needed that are easier to get there. Hmm, no so much easier, but there is more choice.

A skirt was the order of the day, I seem to only wear trousers to work now, so things are progressing slowly in the right direction as far as I'm concerned. I will admit that DWCon2006 did give a bit boost to the confidence, but that is bye-the-bye.

Got to Chester a bit early for most of the shops. Why do a lot of shops seem to open at 9:30 these days? Anyway, wandered into Waterstones had a browse round, not with the intention of buying anything, but ended up with a cookery book (Nigella Lawson - Forever Summer) and Wintersmith. Also went into HMV and picked up CDs by Rory Gallagher, Ritchie Blackmore and Dr John.

It now getting on towards 10, it was, I felt time for coffee... So, as I sat drinking my latte (in Café Nero), I made the mistake of opening Wintersmith... I'm sure the 'suits' opposite me (having a business meeting) thought I was mad. It seems semi-stifled giggles do that. It was Shades of the Con over again. :)

After a long pause, "'ere my coffee's gone cold." trawled round the other shops I needed to go (bar one), and picked up a new pie-dish, salt crock, lilac valanced sheet, a new set of cutlery to replace the old day to day bitsa stuff, cheese (Keens Cheddar "It's got a bit of blue in it. Is that ok?" "Excellent."), Cotswold Blue Brie, and Stinking Bishop), meat (kudu steaks and lamb burgers). Ended up back at Café Nero, were I continued to read Wintersmith.

Funnily enough, my coffee for some bizarre reason went cold again. After that went down to Richer Sounds to get a set of bookshelf speakers for the bedroom hi-fi, and ended up with a pair of Mission M2SS for £50. They sound good enough (admittedly bass light, but clean mid and top end) for the bedroom. I wasn't expecting a powerful bass, after all, they do only have 4" drivers.

In my trawling round the shops, I forgot to go the the hardware shop in the market for a proper galvanised mop bucket - can't be doing with these plastic things.

Got back to deal with yet more support queries from work. Bah.

I did only acquire the occasional odd look today, which is good. Also directed at me from behind, whilst I was perusing things in a shop a "Can I help you miss?".

So all told a good day, leaving me tired and happy. But now, pub for a natter (still no booze , I'll have a J2O please), then chineefoo I think.

Alice.

Well it appears that I've been outed at work. Someone (and you know who you are, because I don't¹), allegedly found this 'ere LJ, read it, and spread gossip.

I am annoyed a bit about this, but only because I wasn't in control of when it happened. IHTA, that I was close to going public at work soon anyway. Serious consideration had been given to this over the last couple of weeks.

Ho hum, at least I can now stop pretending, and just be me.

I do find this slightly amusing, as they've spent the last 2 weeks gossiping with little in the way facts, as just about everything is 'friends only'.

Alice.
¹ If the person who outed me at work is reading this, feel like letting me know who you are²? Mind you, I doubt you've got the guts to do so. Why else wait until the first day of my holiday to start the gossip?

² No, I'm not going to rant at you. There is no point, after all, all you've done is reveal something that was already in the public domain, but not common knowledge at work.