Wednesday, 18th January, 2006

Magnets, Bulbs and Batteries

car

Well, actually, just bulbs. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to mention the title of a book that I had when I was a kid, a book that I was reminded of recently, and a book that I wholeheartedly blame for my transvestism.

If I get drunk enough later on, I might just explain why.

The other night, just as I was setting off from Leeds to come back home, I found (to my horror) that one of my headlights had blown.

"Rats", I think, "but never mind, it'll be OK"

On the way home though, I started to notice just how many other cars were looking a bit myopic — practically one in five I reckon. But just coming into Skipton, I found myself behind a guy who was missing one of his brake lights.

"Hmm, I wonder if he'll ever notice that. What a numpty"

An hour later, I'm doing my usual bull-charge across the Yorkshire Moors — flinging myself around curves and bends and giggling insanely.

But I noticed that the usual wake of red light — the trail of cats-eyes peetering off into the distance, glowing redder and redder with every press of the brake pedal — was missing.

Arse

I am officially twice the numpty that the Skipton man was.

...

Weird that — driving with no brake lights You're very wary of people too close to your bumper, people giving you too much rear-end attention (and not the sort I normally like either). You're paranoid that the person you can see in your rear-view mirror looking listlessly out of their window hasn't noticed that you stopped fiftenn minutes ago — and is about to rear-end you and no doubt cause a twenty-car-pile-up on a minor B-road.

Anyway, to cut a long story short (because I'm knackered, and for reasons I'll get to in a minute, I need to get some sleep tonight), this explains why I was stood outside work this evening — socket set in hand — taking the back end of my car to pieces in order to swap the bulbs from the fog lamps with the brake lights.

Because I figured that driving without fog lamps is far less serious than not letting people know when you're slowing down.

...

Actually, I'm rather glad I did that too (as well as being just that little bit more smug with my Bodging Powers™ ) because I got tail-gated by a policeman on the way home, and I bet he would have pulled me over had I not

Jollies

trip packing

I'm off to London this weekend. In fact, I'm off to London tomorrow (this being the reason I need an early night tonight). I've got a heap of things to do down there, but I thought it would be an interesting Real Life™ application of this weblog to use it as some sort of 'people-conduit'.

Therefore, in the absence of any actual decent writing over the next few days (just to match the previous ones), there will most likely just be a string of random images. However, I thought that maybe I could — every now and again — casually upload a picture of where I was, and if anyone was at a loose end and fancied a chin-wag then come and find me.

In time-honoured tradition though, I'm totally not ready. The only clean underwear I have in the house is a lace g-string and one sock, there's dishes in the sink that have been there a week, and I only just managed to remember to ask a friend to feed the kittens.

So basically what I'm saying here is that if anyone does decide to go on a wild goose chase and meet up at some point, I'll be easy to sniff out find.

Faces

photo siobhan

The other night I was going through some old pictures. Actually started off getting a little distracted by PathFnder's full-on 256px icon previews, but soon I was lost in a world of old photos.

Some of which I was rather surprised by, some of which I was rather shocked by, and some of which I wish I hadn't seen because they were of Kath.

Whenever I take photos of myself, I (as I'm sure everyone else does) end up with more rejects than good ones. Something's not quite right in them — the lighting, the facial expression, the background... When you only look like a girl from two Official Angles™ (as I do), then it's hard to recreate them each time.

Consequently, I have a lot of 'second bests'.

But I was looking through them the other night (as I just said, didn't I? Duh me) — which was what that was all about incidentally — and I thought maybe I'd rethink them. You know, maybe even post them online

But I got a tad distracted.

See, I couldn't help but think while I was looking at them, that although it's obviously the same person (as in 'me') in them, my face is different in each. So I tried to pull out images of all the different faces I've got.

I found six:

If anyone knows of any more, do let me know...

But I'm going to be in London hon — the most likely time I'll bump into you is on the way down or back up

On The Utter Weirdness Of The Past Couple Of Days

rant tranny

You know sometimes you have weeks that catch you unawares?

Thing One

Could somebody please explain to me what this was all about?

I really ought to tell you this very important remark!

Since we all consider ourselves women, I really should point out this:

• Try avoiding the word t***sexual

• Try avoiding the word t*******tite

  and all similar words that give us away.

Yes, I know we all disagree (and if you don't disagree, then you're not Cool Like What I Am™) — but I wanna know where the fuck that came from.

One minue we're all talking happily amongst ourselves about the usual bollocks: "Where can I buy X,Y or Z?", "How do I tell my wife that I'm a pervert?" — you know ... and the next, some edict from on high comes down and scolds us, nay, spanks our collective bottoms, and tells us not to use the word "t*******tite"

...

If my weblog has a point (which I publically concede that it might not, actually), then it's to be able to say the word transvestite in public, without fear, intimidation, or shame. I'm very very proud of what I am, and I'm very proud that I've been able to move things forward to the point where the subject can come up in conversation, and I can say things like "yeah, well, I'm a trannie", and the other person will say things like "Yeah, I knew that. I read your blog FFS. But I'm going to take you seriously no matter what you are".

...

But regardless. As inane as such a comment was, I want to know what prompted it. What thread of discussion built up enough bile inside someone to unleash their most stupid self?

What was it that prompted such a pathetic outpouring of tedium?

Enquiring minds want to know.

Dammit.

Thing Two

There is no Thing Two. Sorry.

There was a Thing Two™, but after having written a huge thing, I reconsidered, and decided that the huge thing was the wrong huge thing. So I'm gonna shut up for a bit, and just post random photos like I promised earlier.

That's the thing though hon — one must always escape astericks. Why do people never read the links I give them? eh?

Are you implying what I think you're implying?

God, I could could'nt I? I could go to Transformation and ask to look at their wigs, and then scream in their faces shouting "I HAVE MY OWN HAIR" "YOUR PRODUCTS ARE SHIT" and othersuch things. And Then buy overpriced foundation.

Interestingly enough, I have a meeting today with someone whose second name is "Lewis"...