Saturday, 4th November, 2006

ADHD

I'm finding it very difficult to concentrate on one particular thing at the moment. It seems that every little aspect of my life is all blurring together into one uncontrollable homogeonous blob right now.

It used to be the case that after a few days over in Leeds, I'd slip back into a more 'natural' state of self, released from the confines of a constrictive sub self, able to reinstate the aspects of my personality that I instinctively suppress when in a work environment...

...Wearing Big Poofy Dresses™ for one.

But I've been finding that certain chance happenings and small, seemingly inconsequential occurances have been blurring the borders between the things I like to label "Graham", and those I like to label "Siobhan" (Not to mention those I quite conveniently lable "Kisa")

Let me give you an example of this: A couple of weeks ago, after five years of asking and trying, I finally managed to access my work email. I mean, I've been able to lumber through a clunky webmail system for a while now, but suddenly shoving the right access shit into Entourage made my inbox (and, more importantly, outbox) flow with inter-deparmental gossip and notices about HR.

Colleagues were stunned. A conspicuous five-year absense from these conversations was suddenly peppered with quips, retorts, and actual responses to requests — and the "Oh, Graham never reads his email. Try his home address" line has slipped into obscurity.

But, to my (initial) excitement, I could also send and receive all this stuff from home. Because whatever version of Entourage it is that's magically opened this Pandora's Box of messages essentially acts as a front-end for the Outlook Web Access that I've been (begrudingly) using for so long, and so communicates soley on port 80 (the only port our paranoid techies like to open), I can happily sit here, on my sofa, in a nightie, on a Saturday morning before 9am, checking email and filling my head with the gumpf that you'd expect from a busy School of Art.

Which is what I've just been doing.

"Excellent", I thought, when I first realised this. "This means I can properly stay connected to what goes on over there, rather than feeling outside of the loop all the time". And indeed, to some extent, that's been the case — a greater engagement with some of the conversations on my part has meant that certain things I'm involved with have progressed much more rapidly in an exciting direction.

(The Powers That Be™ are, apparently, sniffing around some of the stuff I've been working on with great enthusiam...)

But while that's all well and good (and exciting, and whatnot), I just want to back-pedal a moment, and reinstate a mental image in your head — that of me, sat on my sofa on a Saturday morning, in a nightie, checking my email.

...

Balance is really important to me. I need space and time to do the things that I love, and up 'til now, I've had quite clearly defined spheres in which to express certain aspects of who (or, more precisely, what) I am. I spend (on average) three days a week in Leeds, putting on an front of machismo, only reverting to a mincing poof when I'm sure no-one is around. Chucking in tranny-references only when absolutely sure there isn't a student in earshot.

Usually, I stride purposefully through corridors, being careful not to let my hips wiggle unless I'm certain there's no-one behind me.

And to an extent, that's all well and good — three days is copable with. Having that clearly defined "Graham Time" in the middle of the week was fine, because I therefore had a clearly defined "Siobhan Time" to compensate.

But I'm finding that my transvestic cocoon is being encroached into — not just by email, but by thoughts, and phonecalls, and little jobs to do. And it's really starting to worry me.

...

Well, maybe "worry me" is the wrong thing to say. And maybe I'm being a little unfair — it's not just that "Graham" is encroaching onto "Siobhan", it's also the other way around.

I know I've written about this many times, but it seems that almost every day the possibility of some student or another doing a casually inquisitive search is going to sit back in their chair and realise that one of their lecturers is a transvestite is becoming increasingly likely. In a moment of panic last week, I removed the First Life information from my Second Life profile, having had the following conversation with a First Year...

"But should I hold out for the next iMac model with the rumoured new chips? Or should I just get one now?"

"Well, see, the general advice is that you should get the best thing you can afford, at the time you can afford it, and not worry about what's coming in a couple of months. Otherwise you'll be forever worrying."

"What do you have, by the way?"

"Me? I've got a G5. I've been thinking about getting a Mac Pro, but it seems overkill. I might just get a 24 inch iMac, considering there's really only one bit of software that I think would really benefit a switch"

"Not Second Life, by any chance?"

"Um, yeah."

"I'm in that. Are there any of the rest of the Course in there?"

"Yeah. In fact, this building is in it. Just search for the School and you'll find loads of us"

"Cool. I will"

...and it was at that point that I realised that "searching for the School" brings up the words "Kisa Naumova", and you're only two clicks away from "Siobhan Curran, transvestite".

...

I'm straying from the point

Basically, it's become very clear to me that certain 'old' ways of being have evolved into something new. Whereas the first thing I'd do after getting home would be to slip on a dress, crack open a bottle, and resume the intricate written detail of my life as a tranny after a few days of enforced masculinity, now it's not so easy.

I have, in all honesty, been staring at the previous page, wondering how to kick-start myself back into all of this.

...

Ack, I dunno. Maybe it's just that I'm suddenly finding myself far too busy, and that my normal periods of time without anything to do — time I would normally spend thrashing out some radical idea and outrageous proposal on the State Of Transvestism In The Twentyfirst Century™ — are dwindling, being more and more intruded into by Things To Do™.

Maybe it's because the state of 'limbo' that I find myself in at the moment ("Is she full-time? Is she part-time?"), and the associated financial confusion that goes along with it are knocking me out of my usual comfort-zone — preventing me from taking up the many opportunities to don a frock and get outrageously pissed in public (and therefore, live up to my reputation plus having something decent to write about).

Maybe even though I've been on a progressively more aggressive intent to integrate the various sides of my life into each other — the teaching, the crossdressing, and the virtual — I'm finding that each of those three areas cares very little about the other, and that trying to introduce each of them to each other is always met with rolled eyes and despair.

Maybe, perhaps, that after five years of blogging, I've reached a point where everything that I write is just a re-hash of something I've written about previously.

Or maybe, it's just that as exciting as the world appears to be right now, it's only when I sit down at home and try and fathom out what actual real things are happening — rather than just talk about things — that I realise that a lot of what's driving me at the moment is promises and potential.

...

That really bugs me sometimes If you know me at all, you'll know that one of my continual laments is that I'm just not as involved with things as I'd like to be. Every once in a while, some great chance for activity pops up, and despite my best efforts and intentions, it always culminates in another missed opportunity.

I guess I've only really got myself to blame. Just a snifter of an idea is enough to get me really excited — and, being the incorrigible optimist that I am, I invariably extrapolate it into The Greatest Thing Ever™ and share my enthusiam with anyone within earshot.

Then, when the actual outcome doesn't quite live up to my expectations (or the expectations that I've transfered onto others), it all seems a lot less good — and I get a little embarassed, and (if I'm honest) down about it.

Case in point: got an email off a friend the other day, mentioning that they'd passed my details on to a journalist who was writing an article about Second Life and wanted to interview an UK resident for it. Initially, I wasn't that excited — getting emails from journalists is part-n-parcel of being a prominent blogger, and I'm forever getting asked for quotes about transvestism (I usually decline BTW).

But when I found out which newspaper it was for, my enthusiam perked up — almost off the scale. Friends and colleagues keep shoving articles about SL they've saved from newspapers and magazines in my direction, and my God it would be good to be in one for a change — especially the one that I found myself talking to over the phone the other day.

But I had, of course, already told everyone I could that I was being interviewed for it — and the realisation that I'd have to eat humble pie a little and confess that it had all happened too late, and that if I do get a mention it'll only be in passing, made the whole experience a lot less 'cool' than it could have been.

...

God, I'm really rambling this morning aren't I?

Kaboom

I think (although I'm not sure, having extracted myself from the loop for various reasons of late), that tonight it's the annual fireworks up at Lancaster Castle. And I'm in two minds whether or not to be bothered, if I'm honest.

Over the years, the fireworks have become a little personal 'in-joke' for me — an on-going annual pathos (for want of a beter word).

See, waaaaay back, not long after I first moved over here, I went to the fireworks with a friend and his (then) girlfriend. And — being recently dumped — I was struck by how romantic it was seeing the two of them wrapped around each other, going "Oooooooooh! Ahhhhhhhhhh!" in blissful unison.

That image has stuck with me ever since, and it's been an ongoing goal of mine to do exactly that — stand, with a loved one, arms wrapped around each other, enjoying the wonders of the sight of half the city's Council Tax going up in smoke.

But every year, something gets in the way

Usually, it's just that I always seem to be single at this time of year. But even when I'm not, things conspire against my little daydream.

One year, it was because my partner was down in London — which is understandable really. But, a couple of years ago, I thought I was actually going to manage a romantic Novemeber 5th for once.

The stage was set — I wasn't single, my partner was here in Lancaster, we'd arranged not only to go, but also to host a post-fireworks party back at mine (with sausages, baked potatos, and gallons of mulled wine). And it was all looking promising — we'd met up with everyone else (minus a few stragglers) and were on or way to stand by the Priory and watch the spectacle.

But then, a call on the mobile saw her rushing off to pick up those stragglers.

"I'll catch up with you!"

But, of course, by the time she did catch up, the Castle grounds were too busy and had been closed off.

...

Ack, funny. I just got a call from a friend. We're all meeting up for sausages and booze at theirs this year. So I reckon I will be bothered.

I mean, it could be my last Lancaster fireworks

One good thing about being a transvestite in these situations though — and a handy tip that even non-trannies might like to consider ... standing outside on a November's night waiting for stuff to happen can be a cold affair. My advice: stockings and suspenders.

They keep you warm, and you get that added benefit of internal chuckles that no-one around you knows you're wearing ladies' things

Avatars In Black

photo secondlife

Dammit, I hate when aliens are late.

I bet Will Smith never had this problem

Hmm I rather like that idea. Menno has been reproducing album covers lately using Avatars (and I can't wait for him to finish the one he's working on — cos I'm in it ) — I reckon a series of film posters would be fun too...

Taking Photos Of Fireworks With A Digital Camera

Just some handy hints — [New York Institute of Photography] I figure that seeing as this might be my last year of them, I'm going to throw caution to the wind and drag my DSLR up to Castle Hill

Interesting — sort of like me in reverse

It just occurred to me that I wrote a particularly scathing piece about watching fireworks through viewfinders (funnily enough) this time last year. But I reckon that I've seen them enough times (Lancaster aren't what you might describe as 'imaginative', it's the same thing every year), plus this is just a little 'photo-project' — to see if I can do it.

That's my excuse, anyway.