Friday, 27th January, 2006

Stealth Mode

tranny out work

I'm a great fan of word-play — in particular, things that mean other things on several different levels. In a slightly-related theme, that little graphic of mine, the one over there on the left, is a prime example of this — I've never really explained what it's all about (I may never, actually), but it's symbolic of several different things.

"Stealth Mode", obviously, is something to do with transexualism — but despite the gender-bending theme of this weblog, that's not the context I'm using it in. In this instance, I'm using it in the 'developing a website without showing it to anyone' sense.

And (and this is the word-play bit) I'm using it in the 'never revealing my secret identity' sense.

I am — perhaps understandably — excessively cautious about talking about my actual boy-self. I think in the past I've been a lot more cautious than I am today. Initially I was convinced that the slightest mention of even the word "Graham" would bring forth an army of tranny-hating placard wavers to my front door.

But the problem I've been having more and more, is that I'm finding it impossible/frustrating to keep the two sides of my 'presence' (for want of a better word) seperate. I'm finding that the things that I do online — this weblog, Second Life, Flickr, that sort of thing — are increasingly more interesting to me than my older practice of making stripey pictures.

I'm finding that instead of wanting to talk about abstract film and photography in my working life, I'm wanting to talk about communal spaces, and collaborative websites, and inter-personal interactions online.

And it's hard to do that, without standing up in front of a large mass of people, and saying "Hi, I'm Siobhan Curran, and I'm a transvestite"

(This is an old theme BTW — I've written about this loads and loads of times. I have, once, stood up in front of people and done exactly that — and it went really well)

Sometimes I think I should just do it and get it over with — it might allow me to talk a lot more freely about the Web, and the things that I enjoy about it to people who would get a lot out of it.

But then, of course (and last night's momentary "It's all poo" drink-fulled self-pity is a perfect example of this), the last thing I want is a group of people who I expect to take me seriously, and who I am — to an extent — responsible for, reading some of the more personal things I write about.

So yeah, I take great steps to make sure that there's nothing about Siobhan when you Google for Graham — but I'm increasingly ambivalent about the other way around.

...

Just as an aside (because this fuzzy writing isn't really going in the direction I wanted it to this morning), yesterday I was sat in my new room, surrounded with iMacs (my colleagues are starting to refer to the space as "Mission Control" ) when one of the students came in to ask if he could take my picture.

"Why?", I naturally asked.

"I'm doing an animation, and I'm taking a picture of all of the staff to use. You're the first one I've asked — the rest I've just taken without them knowing"

"Well, I appreciate the courtesy, but I'm not going to pose for you. You'll just have to try and grab a snap when I'm not looking"

(I hate posing for photographs — except when I'm dressed up. Ialways look awkward in pictures other people take of me. Later on that day, incidentally, one of the guys from the Photography Department came in and got me and a student to pose for some publicity shots. I have no idea what they're going to be used for, but if they appear online, I'll share )

Another student joined in...

"Why don't we just see if there are any pictures of Graham on the internet?"

Suddenly, a small gathering of students were crowded around an iMac, Googling for pictures of me.

Yes, I was slightly concerned

If you do, actually, look on Google Images for pictures of boy-me, there's only two pages of results, and only one of the images has anything remotely to do with me. I was expecting, perhaps, to see a page full of stripes, but the second result (as an example of how random it is) is a photograph of a woman stood next to a signpost to a town called "Twatt" and the directional arrow is pointing at her.

How droll

"I can't believe there are no photographs of you on the Internet"

I very nearly said "Oh, but there are — you just have to know where to look" — but that would be asking for trouble isn't it?

...

I do often wonder just how easy it is to find this thing without Googling for "Siobhan" or "Crossdressing" — and how many Real-Life friends have found it by accident. I noticed the other day that one of my friends had found the story of how I got my name (a story that she, rather poetically, features in) just by looking for a coffee shop.

I dunno what I'd do if one of the undergraduates found it. It was enough of a shock to find out that one of the postgraduates had found it by accident

...

Anyway. God this is the most rambly thing I've ever written This is what happens when I try to write before I've had enough coffee I suppose.

The whole point of this, is that I've been developing a website for work for the past few months, and I really want to talk about it a bit. But I don't know if I should.

Not because of the "don't reveal who I am in Real Life" thing, rather because (a) it's not entirely finished, and (b) I can't show the internal part of the site anyway, because it's an unmoderated space.

I could post some screen-grabs I guess...

We're all waiting...

Ack, patience hon

I'm worried they'll take one look at my blog and think "Oh, it's just a ridiculous tranny, don't need to listen to him/her"

You know what Stephanie, that's exactly what was going through my head this time last year, when I was first starting to push this weblog outside of its normal peer-group. I wanted to be able to engage with people who weren't my usual readership, but I was petrified that they'd think "God, a bloody tranny" when they followed my link, and get all grumpy.

But over the past twelve months, I kinda think (she said, blowing her own trumpet a little) that I've gotten closer to the point where I feel I can contribute to a discussion, without embarassment or fear that I'm not being taken seriously.

And if someone does think "fucking tranny", then (a) it's their loss, and (b) they're probably not the kind of person that I'd want to engage with anyway

Shareware Karma

software shareware mac

Not too long ago, I used to be one of those nasty people who download shareware off the net, then put on an evil black hat and trawl through forumz and warez to find serial numbers so that I could unlock the full features without actually paying.

I know. Bad and naughty.

/me bends over and lifts skirt

Recently though, I've been readdressing this by registering all the little bits of software that I use, and also donating the odd tenner to sites (like http://www.gravatar.com for example)

So far, I've registered Saft, NetNewsWire, BBEdit (on an educational discount, thankfully), Salling Clicker, and a few other little bits and pieces that I can't quite remember off the top of my head.

Anyway, I'm (a) feeling all chuffed and full of happy-karma because of this, and (b) loving NetNewsWire. Just the ability to synchronise all my feeds between my different Macs was enough to make me buy it, but I'm also loving being able to read things directly in it — rather than jumping to Safari — and being able to download enclosures and send them straight to iTunes.

I think that every now and again, something happens that causes you to completely change your browsing habits — and I think this might be one of those times.

Also, synchronising takes place via my .Mac iDisk — which means that I could (at some point) use that as the basis for the "Reading List" thing on the left there, rather than relying on my buggy del.icio.us parser.

There's something quite nice and poetic about making this weblog even more synchronised with my actual life.

If you catch my drift.

Hmm

ebay quip

Just bought a Nikon -> Canon lens adaptor off Ebay, and the following message from Paypal arrive in my inbox...

This credit card transaction will appear on your bill as "PAYPAL *GOODLUCK".

Why does that not fill me with a huge amount of confidence?

(I bet it'll be fine, but one should really choose better names for things eh?)

Celebrating what?

Microwaving Sticks

photo

(via flickr.com/people/si08han)

There is an honestly sensible reason for this BTW, and not just some kind of Richard-Hammond-esque intent to find out what happens when you microwave wood (answer: not very much).

It's chilly today, and because I ripped out all the walls in my house, the downstairs doesn't warm up much with just two radiators. So I thought I'd light my fire.

But I had no sticks or peat, so I went out to buy some.

Now, I love the little coal merchants where I buy fuel — they're lovely happy people who greet me with "How many bales of peat today, luv" each time I go there.

(OK, so they don't actually say "luv". But let me daydream yeah? )

But recently, all the kindling I've got from there has been damp. You can actually see the condensation on the inside of the bag. Normally, this doesn't matter because I'm a bag-of-sticks-ahead of myself, and I just let them dry out naturally, or by putting them on top of the stove.

But I haven't the luxury of that today.

"Does microwaving sticks dry them out Siobhan?", I hear you ask.

"Not really. But it makes the house smell of pine"

*pfft*

(God, am I really that dull?)

Or am I imagining these things?

No, but that's not until February

No Siobhan! No!

photo

(via flickr.com/people/si08han)

Remember when you promised to only buy one at a time?

Wheaton Warning

quip

When this popped up in NetNewsWire, I immediately thought "Ack, what's Wil done now?"

Bisexuality

sexuality lowriturner rant bisexual

Every now and again, when I'm walking to the shops (to buy booze, natch), I run through things in my head — things that occasionally I expand on here. Tonight, I was thinking about bisexuality — or at least, what I mean when I say "I'm bisexual" — but I wasn't going to write it down. Not just yet anyway.

But then, in my usual trawling through my little collection of blogs, I came across this piece of homophobic bile via Loz

It beggars belief. Really. How someone (and like Loz, I hope and pray that it's not the Lowri Turner that we all know) can possibly publish such crap. Or how a newspaper can give thoughts like that a platform.

Before I am accused of prejudice, I should say that not only are some of my best friends gay, but probably most of them are.

That would be similar to the "I'm not racist — some of my friends are black" line of argument, yes?

Gay men face challenges of their own, but they do not face those associated with having children which is the way most of us live.

Most, maybe. But not all. By that line of reasoning, you can't run the country if you haven't got children.

My gay friends have not sat in accident and emergency with a small child. They have not had to make the decision over whether to give them MMR.

Yes, because gay men and women can't have children can they? Because we're all sat around waiting for someone to invent "adoption" aren't we?

...

Sorry, that article either (a) deserves a much more well-written and informed rant, or (b) no attention whatsoever. Either way, it kinda prompts me to go off on one a little about being bisexual.

Technically, I guess, I'm bi. Whenever there's a form to fill in online, I'm right there clicking on the "bi" radio button. And in everything that calls for some kind of self-classification, then I'll gladly fess-up to being someone who likes to play the pink oboe as much as he likes to drink from the hairy cup.

(Clichéd euphamisms — don'tcha just love 'em?)

I have to confess though, that as bi as I am, it's not something I ever really write much about. I was thinking earlier that this is probably down to two reasons:

1. It's not something that fires me up as much as the subject of transvestism — although I do admit to getting a bit narked when other trannies say things like "It's OK though — I'm not gay", as if only fancying women makes transvestism 'OK'

2. It's not something I've been aware of as long as I've known I was a transvestite.

It's odd really. I've always known I like to dress up in women's clothing. But I spent a good deal of my youth terrified that I might be gay. I had a real problem with looking at other men's knobs, for fear that I might inadvertently gayerise myself. In fact (she says, probably revealling too much information ), I had a real problem even touching my own, for similar reasons.

It was only very recently (and very drunkedly, as it happens) that I actually let myself go one night and ended up in bed with another man — just over two years ago I think. Granted, that man was wearing a dress, but it was still a man. And it was a further year later that I actually found myself locking tongues with an actual bona fide man-wearing-a-suit.

What struck me as the strangest thing about it all was the reactions I got from friends:

"Yeah, well we all knew — even if you didn't"

...

I'm not sure how I feel about it all though. I'm equally not sure how other people feel about it.

I had a little thought — a "quip" if you like — in my head about bisexuality that I was going to regurgitate sometime. It went something like this:

"I'm not heterosexual. I'm not Homosexual. I'm just sexual"

But that's probably too blasé when confronted with vile homophobic shite such as what I linked to above.

Anyway, I thought Loz's response to the "surely they are old enough to work out which gender they fancy?" question was one of the best things I've read so far this year:

the answer is 'they fancy both' ya black-hearted fag-hag.

*aw* Thank you

Seriously, thank you — that's actually warmed me up more than my fire-lighting escapades did

Again, you can't please everyone etc etc.

I'm going to hell for this one, but isn't that the whole point of bisexuality?

/me bows

/me apologises