Bournemouth, Bra Wars and Bleeding Ears

Friday morning at 8 o’clock as the day begins.

Usually Friday means work. This Friday it marks the beginning of an Andrea weekend.

The weekend really begins on Thursday night with packing. The suitcase is large enough to keep Andy in clothing for a month. For Andrea it’ll be ok for two nights. It’s the shoes. And the dresses. And the makeup. Hair. Boobs. And all those other essentials and not-so essentials. After the packing there are toe nails and fingernails to paint.

Friday itself … shave, shower, makeup and dress.

Tina arrives as Sally leaves. Dress and makeup.

Suitcases into the car. Leaving just enough room for the two of us. A neighbour is cutting grass and pays us no attention.

Legoland … Ascot ... Bagshot … M3 … M27 … A31.

We catch up as Tina drives.

Ringwood. Coffee and sandwiches at the Boston Tea Party. Cheese and ham for one, bacon bap for the other.

(This photo of Ringwood is courtesy of TripAdvisor)

Andrea needs to visit the ladies.

“Upstairs, through the door” says the waitress.

Andrea goes upstairs.

There’s a doorway.

And more stairs.

Andrea goes upstairs.

And through the doorway.

Looks right. Looks left.

There are no signs.

But there’s a door at the end. See it?

(This photo of Ringwood is courtesy of TripAdvisor)

Alas, the door is locked.

“Can I help?” asks a man who is sitting on the right … just about where the lady is sitting in the picture.

“Downstairs, through the door” says the man in response to Andrea’s query.

Andrea goes downstairs.

And through the doorway.

Looks right. Looks left.

There’s a sign.

And that part of the journey is over.

Tina has a much shorter journey.

A few more miles and here we are at Bournemouth.

We buy a few bits and pieces and reach the hotel at about 15:00.

Check-in, drop the bags in the room and a trip to the bar.

We order a maybe-not-so-girlie Guinness each.

Danielle pops over to say hello and welcome.

We are at the TV Extravaganza Weekend

There are just about as many TVs at the hotel as there are TVs at the hotel.

Round about 6 pm is the group fancy dress photo. For those with fancy dress. Very fancy.

The headmistress is especially eye catching.

Then dinner and the dance.

We are amazed at the number of  outfit changes that we’ve witnessed.

Sleep.

Breakfast ends at 9:30 am.

Andy could sleep until 9:00 am and still make it.

Andrea needs somewhat longer.

07:45 and the alarm sounds.

Just enough time for the transformation and to be at breakfast by 09:15.

Miss TV Bournemouth is to be followed by the Beau Belles.

Tina and Andrea help bolster the audience.

Dresses and interviews.

Swimsuits and interviews.

And then .. would I mind being a judge for the Beau Belle competition?

A Beau Belle might look a little like this:

 

We three judges ponder as each Belle is interviewed.

The scores are counted and Lindy Loo is crowned. The picture above isn’t Lindy Loo … it’s just one that I found courtesy of a Google search.

Tina and Andrea set out to visit Bournemouth Pier.

Chine Crescent.

Durley Chine Road.

West Cliff Road.

Priory Road … well maybe.

We’re thinking about the return journey. And the steepness of the hill.

So it’s a right turn down Beacon Road instead.

And here is Tina, with the pier in the background.

 

And a windswept looking me.

 

Then back to the New Westcliff via the newsagent.

It’s time for a change of attire and the barn dance.

Which is where the wars begin.

I don’t recall the name of the dance.

It involves moving round in a big circle, passing people,, hand to hand, who are moving the opposite way.

Once in a while you stop. Hold hands with the person you are about to pass. Raise hands and arms in the air and each spin around.

Andrea discovers that her bra and boob combination were not designed with this manoeuvre in mind.

The boobs escape.

Thankfully the dress that she is wearing saves the day. Or at least it saves the boobs and they don’t make a clean escape.

Walking around the circle isn’t so much hand to hand for Andrea any more as she fights to return her breasts to captivity.

The sweet thing is that though people realise why Andrea isn’t able to shake hands at the moment, no one is at all phased.

Soon it’ll be time for cocktails.

Makeup needs replacing … well … at least from the nose down. The chin bristles are beginning to make their presence felt. They need to be removed.

I wonder? Can I manage to make up half a face?

It goes like this.

Makeup remover onto the neck, cheeks, chin and above the lips.

Shave.

Re-apply foundation, powder, blush and lipstick.

And it works and saves ages … no new eye shadow, liner or mascara

Half a makeup.

Cocktails and the group photo.

The conversation is broad.

Conchita.

The general election.

Immigration.

The fact that one of the girls isn’t able to leave her house dressed as a girl because there was a period when trans-phobic youths would throw bricks through her window.

Dinner and then the dance.

Complete with a Turkish male belly dancer.

We retire to the bar.

 

Nikki drops by and poses for some pictures on the bar.

Which leaves sleep and breakfast.

We stop by at Mudeford.

We almost stop by at Beaulieu.

At Lyndhurst we have a sandwich and coffee.

A fair amount of time is spent in the loo, recapturing boobs that have somehow escaped again.

At home it’s another half a makeup before heading to Surrey Swans.

There are a few less people than usual but there are quite a few girls that are relative newcomers and it’s really lovely to talk with them a little as well as with Emma, Carol and Tina.

On Monday I begin to realise the perils of clip-on earrings.

On the phone with an itching earlobe that I rub a little I notice the red stains on my fingers.

I think it’s the first time I’ve had bleeding earlobes.

It’s not what you say it’s the way that you say it

Here are a few comments taken from here on the article in The Guardian entitled: Against Me's Laura Jane Grace slams Arcade Fire for transgender video that I already mentioned in an earlier post here.

This isn't a video about a transsexual girl, not to me. It's about a transvestite girl. Transvestites aren't welcome in the TG community by many transsexual girls, who resent the sexual aspect mudding up their waters. It's quite odd when you think we're their natural cheerleaders.

received the following response:

Transvestite is to transgender people what the N word is to black people. Please do not use it. I believe the term you were looking for was drag queen. Or transgender (which is a broad term that can refer to a host of types of people, from drag queens to cross dressers to transsexuals).

to which I replied:

Actually, I know many transgendered people that aren't at all offended by the term "transvestite".

to which another replied:

As a trans woman, I am deeply offended by anyone that tries to call me a "transvestite". The term is ONLY properly applied to cis folk that like to dress as the opposite sex for personally gratification, not as part of their actual identity.

I can understand that someone identifying themselves as a trans woman is offended by people referring to her as a transvestite.

I am, though, a bit saddened that a trans woman doesn’t realise that a person that identifies themselves as transvestite might feel offended by someone who refers to them as simply cis folk that like to dress as the opposite sex for personally gratification, not as part of their actual identity.

Maybe it depends a bit on exactly what the word gratification is intended to mean.

But many, many of the people that I know that identify with the term transvestite would also say that it is part of their actual identity. It isn’t just about some kind of gratification. It’s a means of self expression.

Maybe there’s a  difference in meaning of the word transvestite in the UK compared with the USA. Since The Guardian is a UK-based newspaper – as am I (UK based, that is, but not a newspaper) I’ve stuck with the UK meaning of the word.

Here are a few definitions from the Gender Dysphoria section of the National Health Service Web Site:

Gender terminology

Gender dysphoria is a complex condition that can be difficult to understand. Therefore, it helps to distinguish between the meanings of different gender-related terms:

• gender dysphoria – discomfort or distress caused by a mismatch between a person’s gender identity and their biological sex assigned at birth
• transsexualism – the desire to live and be accepted as a member of the opposite sex, usually accompanied by the wish to have treatment to make their physical appearance more consistent with their gender identity
• transvestism – where a person occasionally wears clothes typically associated with the opposite gender (cross-dressing) for a variety of reasons
• genderqueer - an umbrella term used to describe gender identities other than man and woman - for example, those who are both man and woman, or neither man nor woman, or moving between genders

I think the term for a variety of reasons is important here. Maybe many transvestites also fall into the genderqueer category as well.

Actually quite a lot of people don’t fall into such neat categories at all. 

People are often more complex than that.

Also, this article is interesting: Transvestites and cross-dressing at netdoctor.

To be honest, I can cope with people that use incorrect terminology through ignorance. I’m using the word ignorance in a non-stigmatic kind of way here. If a person has never been told something then how can they be expected to know all about it?

Quite often it’s not the actual words that people use that are hurtful and offensive. Always it’s the way that the words are used and the context that they are used in that makes all the difference.

I thought a lot before using the word “Always” in the sentence above. But I think it’s the right word.

I think that’s the reason I find it difficult to understand why some transgendered people have had such a big problem with the video, and even more difficult to understand the way in which some have expressed their dissatisfaction.

Whatever the video is, I’m sure in my own heart that the intension was good.

But if I had been involved in the production of it I could easily have felt quite offended at the following comment. It uses smooth words, but they have sharp edges:

Yet another attempt by segment s of the cisgender community to marginalize transgender folk. The band's spokesperson made matters worse by slapping whitewash on their video by trying to claim this was really about a gay boy and his father. Caught in a lie and no way out must be very uncomfortable for the band, right now.

Creative license is one thing. Outright lying to save ones "pride" is another. The trans community has every right to be outraged by this latest example of denigration and the subsequent attempt by the abusers to cover their tracks.

Maybe I’m being too picky/fussy in all of this.

What do you guys, girls and genderqueer folk think?

The movie …

On September 24th I received an email from James, a Production student at the University for Creative Arts in Farnham.

James mentioned “My team and I have recently been given a brief which entails creating a 5-7 minute film”.

The initial idea was for a film that would be focussed mainly on the Surrey Swans. Because of difficulties in finding people that were able to participate on the dates that were available, it changed somewhat into more of something that would be about aspects of the life of a transvestite with some filming to take place at a Surrey Swans meeting.

I emailed everyone that goes along to Surrey Swans regularly to ask how they felt about the idea of a small film crew turning up. No one raised any objections. A little reticence from some. But also several people expressing really positive feelings about the concept.

Then there are  emails, phone calls, a visit from James (producer) and Sinead (sound).

Risk assessment and filming consent forms get completed.

James and Sinead check that Mike, who runs the pub where Surrey Swans meets is ok with using it as a film location.

And so, at about 09:30 on the morning of Friday November 22nd, James (producer), Sinead (sound), Lexie (post production), Xander (camera) and Vlad (director) arrive.

I hope I’ve got the roles right.

They come complete with cameras, sound equipment, light reflectors and all the paperwork that goes along with shooting a film.

I’d taken a day from my annual leave and woken at the usual kind of weekday time to give me a chance to greet them as Andrea.

The transformation takes about an hour.

The makeup actually takes less than an hour. I have to spend ten to fifteen minutes face shaving.

GGs (genetic girls) don’t generally have to factor these extra 15 minutes into their plans.

I’d done the nail polish thing and the body shave the night before.

“I know that you’re already wearing nail polish, Andrea, but can we have some close-ups of you polishing your nails?”

Vlad focuses everything whilst Andrea re-applies some Rimmel Pink Amazon to a selection of fingernails as directed.

Then there’s lipstick (Maybelline 24 hour) over lipstick.

We spend a while, unsuccessfully,  looking for a mirror and end up using the black mirror of a mobile phone.

And then mascara.

Two cameras are set up pointing in the direction of the armchair. Vlad positions one of them, Xander the other.

Things are adjusted to cope with the light and avoid unwanted reflections.

James sits on a chair beside the main camera with a sheaf of papers.

Sinead has the microphone which is attached to a boom.

I sit in the arm chair.

A few warm up questions from James.

Now everyone knows my name, my age and height – with and without heels.

There are quite a few questions. I occasionally ramble, I think.

I need to remember to include a paraphrase of the question in the answer. And to wait three seconds before answering.

The experience is ok for me.

I feel as though I’m talking with people rather than at a camera. It’ll be interesting to see how it actually looks.

Living in Windsor makes life more difficult than it might have been. Every 90 seconds or so an aeroplane passes overhead. The kind of thing that Sally and I never notice when we’re inside. Microphones are more sensitive, I guess.

And then … the main camera signals that its memory card is almost full.

Unfortunately, it’s not yet afternoon and there is still an awful lot of filming to do. Strange that I keep referring to “film”. There is, of course, no film involved at all.

It’s one of those technologically potentially catastrophic moments that can afflict us all from time to time.

However well we prepare, there’s always a hole waiting for us to fall into.

The camera can takes SD memory cards.

But on sliding one into the slot there doesn’t seem to be a menu option to convince the camera that it’s a good idea to use it.

It may be that one day someone will unearth this option somewhere on an obscure menu. But it would have helped a lot on the day if it was somewhere a little more in everyone’s face.

Andrea mainly sits comfortably on the armchair.

Sally is at the table working n a laptop.

Everyone else is busy working out the best way forwards.

I’m impressed that everyone is busy working out a solution rather than complaining about a problem or blaming everyone else.

Coffee and tea.

A few pone calls and Xander heads off to borrow a memory card from another team.

Everyone else tries to coax the camera into using an SD card. But it refuses to cooperate.

Phone calls.

But the camera still refuses to play ball.

There are some other shots that need to be taken using one of the other cameras.

There’s a plan to illustrate the transformation of Andy into Andrea.

The idea, I think, is that Andy does something and transmogrifies into Andrea in the process.

Wouldn’t it be cool if makeup was as easy as that?

The idea is to film the Andrea part of the activity now.

Andy can do his bit tomorrow.

So Andrea walks across the room and closes the curtains.

Several times.

Gets an item from a cupboard in the kitchen and puts it into the microwave.

Several times.

Comes in from outside and walks across the kitchen.

Yep. Several times.

These last two shots are more complex.

Vlad is outside with the camera.

The kitchen window provides a variety of unwanted reflections.

Andrea provides a black coat.

James stands beside Vlad using the coat close to the camera as a shield against the reflections.

It’s a cold day so there is some shivering.

Sticky tape gets applied to the floor to mark the spots where the camera was so that when Andy does his bit tomorrow everything will be aligned.

The camera moves. Sticky tape gets stuck.

Andrea walks out the bedroom door and down the stairs a few times.

The camera moves. More sticky tape.

Andrea walks down the stairs a few times. The camera capturing the high heeled shoes.

Here’s Lexie, Vlad, James and Sinead. I took the picture. Xander is out hunting for a memory card. The camera is pointing at where I was sitting during the interview.

 

The view from the interview chair – except Xander is out looking for the memory card:

Sally waits patiently for the arrival of the memory card.

 

Xander returns and the new memory card re-invigorates the camera.

The interview resumes.

And then it’s Sally’s turn to be interviewed.

I spend a while removing makeup.

The day ends with Andy arriving home, parking the car in the driveway and walking into the house. Four times, I think.

I have no idea what the neighbours thought was happening

And so ends Friday.

Saturday begins at about 11:15.

James, Vlad and Sinead arrive.

First on the menu is an interview with Andrea and Sally.

Then there is  footage of me removing makeup in the bathroom.

Usually, before I remove makeup, I remove clothing.

On this occasion I just remove my hair.

And then the makeup.

And then the problem of the day arises.

Another shot of Andrea with Sally is needed, but Andrea has become Andy. Though Andy is still wearing a dress.

James and Vlad discuss the problem.

The problem being that it will take Andy up to an hour to become Andrea again. Well, maybe 45 minutes. But not much less.

The proposed solution … filming from the back over the shoulder of Andy complete with a dress and a wig.

The camera is set up something like this:

It’s a strange feeling. Wig without makeup. Even though I’m wearing a dress I feel strangely naked as I head downstairs.

It will be interesting to see how this turns out. Andrea from behind says hello to Sally and offers her a glass of wine.

About 5 times.

Cheers

And then the other half of the transmogrifications. I can’t believe that I spelt that word correctly first time.

Off with the heels, the wig and the dress … on with the trousers, shirt and sweater.

Off camera.

Of course.

The camera moves and Andy walks across the room and opens the curtains.

The camera moves outside.

James gets the black coat.

Vlad calls out “Action”.

Andy pops something in the microwave.

“Action.”

Andy walks through the door and across the kitchen.

The camera moves.

Andy walks out the bedroom door and down the stairs.

The camera moves again.

Andy walks up the stairs.

Just the man-shoes appearing in the shot.

Of course each activity happens several times.

Each positioning of the camera involves lining tripod legs up on pieces of yesterdays sticky tape.

Pieces of sticky tape get gradually unstuck.

And that’s it.

Well, apart from the night at the Swans.

To be continued …

A very special Wedding and a little making up and telling

Friday July 20th was a great family day – the wedding day of Sarah (my eldest daughter) to Paul.

Sarah told Paul about Andrea a few months ago. She told me they were having a conversation about little known things about each others families. She had wanted to tell Paul for a while, but the opportunity hadn’t arisen. So this seemed like an opportunity. She opened a page of this blog and said … that’s my dad.

Sarah said that she thinks Paul didn’t think she could tell him anything that was surprising. But he was … well … surprised. I don’t know if Paul will ever want to meet Andrea … that’s up to him completely … but it’s good that he knows that Andrea exists and that he isn’t totally mind blown by the concept.

Sarah and my wife Sally had done pretty much all of the organising of wedding things with a lot of help from friends and family and even some from myself and Paul.

And, just as it should have been, it was one of the happiest and proudest moments of my life. Pretty much every moment went smoothly, and even the weather took a turn for the better.

In amongst all of the regular things that happen during the run-up to the occasion and on the day itself, there were a few not-quite-so regular things happened.

Tatyana, one of Sarah’s closest friends, and also a great family friend and a bridesmaid was staying with us.

She volunteers to take care of the camera and take pictures over the coming few days.

Thursday morning we ferry things from home to the venue of the wedding reception. It’s at Beaumont in Old Windsor.

Beaumont is now a hotel, conference centre and venue for events such as wedding receptions. In the not-too-distant past it was a venue for IT (Information Technology)training courses courses and I spent about 21 years of my working life there teaching things ranging from COBOL in the late seventies and early eighties through to database management and XML in the early part of the 21st century, so the place.

Before being an IT training college the building was a school run by the Jesuits.

In the days of IT training, the school chapel housed mainframe computers and had false floors and ceilings hiding the architectural beauty of the building. These days, the interior chapel building is visible again and used for events such as wedding receptions.

On arrival we moved things to Tudor 2ready for the staff there to put onto tables in the chapel the next morning.

Flower vases are unpacked and candles assembled.

The candles have a mind of their own. However carefully and firmly we press them into the adhesive in the candelabra, they insist on leaning over at all kinds of crazy angles as soon as you turn your back on them.

Jars are filled with sweets (candy) and boxes of cigars are set out. Little blackboards are decorated … one for the sweets and one for cigars.

Sarah points out that the cigars that I’ve drawn on the blackboard look a bit like willies.

A photograph of each guest is attached to a small stand.

Paul and his mum and dad arrive, having driven down from the north west of England.

A little later we head for Windsor and a rehearsal for the service at Windsor parish church and meet up with bridesmaids, ushers, best man and priest.

The rehearsal goes smoothly.

Sarah and two of the three bridesmaids head off for a session of nail polishing at a nearby salon. Sally and I head off to help ferry the wedding cake from a friends house to the reception venue.

Later in the afternoon, Sally decides she’d like to wear some nail polish, though she doesn’t usually. We’d already talked about this possibility a while back and since Andrea has the largest selection of polishes in the household, I’m asked to provide the polish and to do the painting.

My own recommendation was red … I like the colour, it applies easily and seems to dry faster than a lot of other colours.

Sally’s preference was something more dark pink than red. So in the end Rimmel Pure Sin was the selection. Two coats.

Tatyana has some really nice shiny, sparkly red nail polish. Somehow or other I’m asked if I could paint her nails as well. So, with a certain amount of trepidation on my part, it’s two coats of red for Tatyana. So far as we know, Tatyana doesn’t know about Andrea … only that I have unusual expertise in nail polish.

On the morning of the wedding people arrive to do makeup for Sarah, and also her hair.

The makeup lady has even more makeup brushes than me.

Just hair for Sally, Katie and Tatyana.

The doorbell sounds. It must be the photographer.

But no … a man to replace a cracked window. This is a bit of a surprise and I explain it’s not a very convenient moment. Sally chats with him a while and in he comes and gets the job done without any hassle and in a very short time.

A glass of champagne and strawberries.

Sally asks what eye shadow I have … and so one of my biggest jobs for the morning include applying shadow and mascara to Sally’s eyes. And then helping finish off applying shadow to Tatyana’s.

sally blinks a lot when having mascara applied … so I’m glad that I have plenty of cotton wool buds.

We come to an amicable agreement not to even attempt doing the lower lashes.

Katie and Tatyana also borrow some of makeup brushes and Tatyana borrows my eyelash curlers.

Sally’s nails needed a third coat.

It was a little surreal. My guess is that most father’s of the bride don’t spend quite so much of their time painting the ladies nails and eyes.

I have to say, though, that it was great fun to do. Much more enjoyable than the earlier job that I’d been given of cutting the grass on the front lawn.

The photographer arrives and begins snapping things.

Katie helps Sarah into the dress.

The car arrives.

Tatyana takes a lot of lovely pictures of Sarah and bridesmaids in the back of the car.

The bridesmaids get into the taxi and head for the church.

Sarah and I relax in the back of the car. We wait a few minutes and the driver sets off.

A few people wave as we pass them and in almost no time there we are, walking down the church aisle.

Hymns, a short message on selfless love, readings, songs, rings, registry signing, vows and there they are … Mr and Mrs and a chance to begin to say hello to everyone.

A short walk and then some photographs near Windsor Castle.

Then to the reception.

Drinks. Canapés. Photographs. Chats.

Introductions. Speeches. Food and wine.

Coffee. Cheese. Dancing and chatting.

The candles have survived.

And Katie enjoys the sweets.

The chapel windows are enchanting and change as the lighting changes.

 

 

Part way through the evening Sally says that she hopes that I don’t mind, but that she mentioned the Andrea part of me to a close friend of ours, Rose.

Rose and her husband Brian are amongst our very closest friends. We’ve known them for more than all of our married lives. Rose and Brian introduced Sally and I to each other.

When Sally first found out about Andrea, I said that she was free to tell anyone that she wanted to, and so no, I didn’t mind.

We’d actually been thinking about telling both Rose and Brian for a long time.

The challenge, though, as ever, is never being sure how people will react. Of not wanting to risk a deep and dear friendship.

Sally says that Rose was surprised.

Later in the evening, talking with Brian I mention that I’m a transvestite.

He’s surprised. But I don’t think appalled.

We talk quite a bit about things.

It’s not an easy thing. But as always, being able to talk about things is one more little burden in life less to carry.

Our friendship remains.

For Brian, I understand that there are challenges in all of this. His Christian faith will, I think make it challenging.

We talked about this a little.

I shared some of the things that I find difficult with some aspects of Christian beliefs in some, though not all, parts of the Christian Church.

Things like the idea that maybe almost everyone that ever lived could be destined for an eternity in hell.

The view that gender is a fixed thing … male or female … with no shades of both and no transition between the two.

The subjective way that everyone interprets the Bible.

The way that same sex relationships are viewed to be wrong. Even where people love each other in a deeper and more genuine way than do some heterosexual couples.

That maybe it’s ok to be gay or lesbian and have a partner so long as there is no sex.

That it’s often ok for women to talk in church these days even though once it wasn’t.

The possibility that one day it will be possible for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people to be honest about themselves in church without people in the Church feeling that such people need to be healed from some kind of an abomination.

We talk a little about what my gender means to me. About The Listening Project interview that I’d done with Katie.

Brian mentions that at one time a transgendered person came along to a church home-group that he led and also along to their church.

It was nice to know that that could happen.

Although, there was a sense that the hope of the people at the church was that the person would be healed from a whole series of hurts that they had experienced in life and also from their gender dysphoria.

I mention Brian McLaren and the book A New Kind of Christianity.

I’m glad that there’s been an opportunity to share all of this. Maybe there is something about weddings … this is the second family wedding where I’ve found myself in a similar kind of conversation.

Later in the evening I sit outside with my brothers and we discover the doors have been locked, so we walk back to the main reception to get in and then chat a while with a group of guys that are there for a wedding the next day. And then it’s time to sleep.

Saturday and we meet people at breakfast and say hello to the newly weds.

Back home we prepare for a barbecue. It’s great to see people from our families again for a few more hours.

As the day progresses we say g’bye as people leave.

My brother Pete and his wife Mary, his son and his son’s wife (Paul and Jenni) spend the night so it’s great to see a bit more of them.

A wonderful, wonderful few days.

My dad is a transvestite …

The condensed version of the Listening Project interview that I mentioned here was broadcast on BBC Radio Berkshire (the Andrew Peach show) and BBC Radio Oxford (the Phil Gayle show) at about 7:50 am on Friday June 15th 2012. The whole thing is a little over four minutes long. The Radio Berkshire version of it is below if you’d like to listen. It provides some insight on how I told my daughter Katie about my being a transvestite and how she felt and feels about it. 

Katie talks with Andrea

Why I have long nails

Today I visited the hospital to have my thumb checked out.

Just a short wait and the nurse called me in to see the consultant.

He asked if he could look at my hand and compared the left thumb with the right one. Asked if there was any pain and declared that there’s no sign of infection and that the nail will re-grow.

“I noticed that your nails are quite long. Do you always keep them like that?” he asked.

“Yes, they are pretty long, and yes pretty much always.”
“Do you mind if I ask why?”

“No, not at all. It’s just that I’m a transvestite and I like them that way.”

“Ah. Ok.” says he and the nurse nods.

The nice thing these days, compared with not so long ago, it doesn’t bother anyone at all.

Repentance from the perspective of a transvestite

The third chapter of Matthew’s gospel says a lot about John the Baptist.

It sounds as though he was a guy that said thins pretty straight as he believed them to be. Of course, this doesn’t necessarily make him right about everything.

People flocked to him and confessed their sins and repented and were baptised in the river Jordan.

There’s a whole lot of stuff packed into the words sin and repent.

What is sin? There’s a whole article about it here. It says for example:

Sin is the breaking of God's law. If God says "Do not lie" and you lie, then you have broken His law and sinned.

This, though, seems a very black and white view of life in a world which is full of colour.

Is there such a thing as a white lie?

• Is telling the truth always better than not telling the truth?
• Should doctors always tell people everything … regardless of the individual persons needs at that moment in time?
• Is knowingly withholding the truth the same as a lie?

I think, I’m not certain, but I think, that anyone that has the idea that it’s easy to define what sin is, really is over simplifying things.

The article also says:

The Old Testament contains the Law of God. It is a perfect standard because it is God's standard.

And this leaves me stupefied. The law as dictated by the Old Testament ranges from the reasonably sounding Ten Commandments to quite a lot of not quite so reasonably sounding stuff. There’s a lot of this recorded here … the tone of which is over-aggressive for me and demonstrates what I think, is a misunderstanding of what Christianity is. The author has some big problems. But it illustrates the point that working out what’s right and wrong can be a tricky business.

And still … I remember back in early 1973 when someone asked me if I thought I had ever sinned. Even by my own subjective definition of right and wrong … I knew I’d done things that I was ashamed of. I remembered people at school that we’d teased and made fun of. Horrendously. For no good reason.

And sneaking a peak ahead into chapter 20 of Matthew’s gospel, the following story is recounted:

… a teacher of the Law, tried to trap him [Jesus] with a question.
"Teacher," he asked, "which is the greatest commandment in the Law?"
Jesus answered, " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.'
This is the greatest and the most important commandment.
The second most important commandment is like it: 'Love your neighbour as you love yourself.'
The whole Law of Moses and the teachings of the prophets depend on these two commandments."

 

The first of these is difficult for an agnostic or an atheist to understand, let alone to put into practise.

But the second could provide a starting point for anyone.

But even then it’s complex. I’ve heard it said that we have to learn how to love ourselves before we can really learn to love other people. And that fits in pretty well with what Jesus said. If a person doesn’t love his or her self, then it makes no sense at all to love other people in the same way.

Maybe the main thing is to not do things that hurt yourself or hurt other people. And major on things that are good for you and for others.

Maybe any kind of commandment that doesn’t influence these things is something that doesn’t really matter. And any command that goes against these isn’t really a commandment at all.

It gives a starting point for definitions of what’s right and wrong.

And also hints at the possibility that what might sometimes be right in some circumstances and for some people, might be wrong in other circumstances for other people.

Then there is repentance. I think this means accepting and understanding what you’ve done that is wrong and committing yourself to change, be different and not do it again.

And so … even in the agnostic world that I inhabit these days … if I define sin as the things that I’m uncomfortable about doing because I feel that they are wrong … maybe because they aren’t good for me or for someone else … repentance seems like the right thing to do. It makes sense.

There’s some nasty sounding stuff in Matthew chapter 3.

Every tree not producing good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire

…

He [Jesus] will clean up his threshing floor and gather his grain into the barn, but he will burn the chaff with inextinguishable fire.

It sounds bad for trees that don’t produce the fruit and for the chaff.

Some interpret this as meaning that people that do bad things end up in hell. Or maybe it’s people that don’t do good things.

I’m not at all sure about heaven and hell.

Then, John baptises Jesus and it says:

When Jesus had been baptized, he immediately came up out of the water. Suddenly the heavens opened up for him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on him. 

Then a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, whom I love. I am pleased with him!"

If I could believe in God, it would mean a lot to me. There was a time when it did.

Even for an agnostic transvestite, though, there is something of meaning in this chapter.

• An encouragement to think about what I feel is right and wrong and why I feel that way about things.
• A call to repentance … which I think just means to live honestly with my own feelings. To try to not do stuff that I feel is wrong, and to do the stuff that I think is right

That makes sense to me. It doesn’t seem unreasonable.

In the past when I tried this it was within the constraints of an evangelical Christian view of right and wrong. And this included a lot more than loving other people as I loved myself. And it relied on a subjective understanding of the Bible … as all understandings of the Bible inevitably are.

And I failed.

Over and over.

And some of the failure had to be kept secret. I didn’t understand the part of me that is feminine. Actually, I still don’t. But I don’t need to understand. I am learning to accept and enjoy. I don’t have to repent from being a transvestite. I don’t have to deny my femininity or my masculinity. I don’t have to deny the person that I am. I can love myself.

There was a time when I needed some kind of a totally objective view of right and wrong.

These days I think it’s not so easy as that. There’s an element of subjectivity in everyone’s views. I’m happy to start again with an aim at working towards loving other people as I love myself.

So, the positive thing I’m taking from Matthew 3, with a bit of help from Matthew 22, is that the idea of repenting from a subjective kind of badness … which seems somehow more possible and sensible than anything I’ve tried before, and it’s something that I can work on.

Radio Interviews and Being Accepted as a Person even when you are a transvestite

The BBC Radio Berkshire interview happened on Friday March 2nd.

If you’d like to listen in, there was a little over 19 minutes of talking, so I had to split it into two pieces for YouTube which has a maximum item length of 15 minutes.

So … part 1 is here:

Part 1

And part 2 is here:

Part 2

 

The pictures aren’t of the actual day. The one of Bill Buckley came from his website. The one of me was taken in Windsor a while ago. I was actually wearing the same blouse and cardigan at the interview.

I took a day of annual leave from work. And it went something like this.

It’s 9:00 am and Sally wakes me. Toot brushing. Shower. Coffee and cereal. Shave. Moisturise. Makeup. Dress.

10:50 and Andrea is set to go.

A little nervous.

The car radio is tuned in to BBC Radio Berkshire.

Somehow the listening makes me more nervous. Everyone sounds clear. Uncomplicated. Easy to understand. Gulp.

I’ve been in the car just two minutes.

The lady on my Sat Nav says “Turn right”.

But I drive straight on.

Silently she re-routes.

I’m more nervous than I think.

I decide to turn around when possible and the engine stalls.

I must be even more nervous than I think.

I change my mind about turning round and follow the re-routed route.

On the Radio Bill interviews a local lady who has brought in some Goat’s fudge (fudge made from Goats milk) that her goats produce.

A recorded piece from Anne Diamond about a lock that would shoot you if you tried to use the wrong key to open it.

Travel news. Weather.

It’s a little foggy. But not bad enough to affect traffic.

Tom Tom is programmed to avoid motorways so it’s a short route and takes me through Twyford and Sonning on my way to the studio at Caversham.

11:30 and I’m outside Caversham Park, where it all happens.

A little on the early side, so I drive past and re-program the Sat Nav to take me towards the pub that I’m to meet up with Tina at once the interview is over.

Enough traffic to make me turn back before reaching there.

11:38 back at the BBC.

The security barriers are impressive.

I press the intercom button.

“Hi. It’s Andrea Wright … the Anne Diamond show.”

I have quite a deep voice for an Andrea, But they are expecting me.

The barrier descends into the road and the green light flashes.

I drive towards the car park and pull into a space.

On the whole, I feel nervous but relaxed.

I#m not sure what the questions will be nor what angle things will be approached from. But the people that I’ve spoken with on the phone have been really helpful and positive. So although nervous, I’m not feeling worried.

It’s a short walk from the car park to reception.

It’s strange the things that go through my mind.

How is my deportment? Am I walking in a lady-like fashion?

At reception I introduce myself. Sign the visitors book. Receive my security pass. The ladies at reception are totally un-phased. They make a phone call to say that I’m here.

I take a seat beneath the large TV screen that quietly plays the BBC News service.

Across the way there two guys sit and talk with each other.

And then, someone arrives to collect the three of us.

We’re escorted towards the studio.

Gareth Owen, a movie producer and BAFTA judge from Pinewood studios heads for the studio … I’m due next at midday.

I visit the ladies.

Back in the room beside the studio I’m offered a coffee.

I chat with Andrew, who’s waiting for Gareth, and, I think Marie, who works at the radio station.

Andrew tells a little of his experiences as a contestant on The Weakest Link.

It’s getting close to noon.

Gareth arrives back.

I psyche myself up.

A siren kind of noise begins to sound.

It’s a fire alarm.

We have to evacuate.

Oh my gosh!

I follow people outside.

There’s Marie (I think … but I didn’t catch her name at the beginning) with Bill and she introduces me.

I’m wondering if the interview will ever happen and am glad that it’;s not raining and that the cardigan I’m wearing is nice and warm.

Bill offers goats fudge sweets all round. Coffee flavoured and very nice.

In an odd kind of way the surprise of the fire alarm going off is a bit of a tension reliever. And it’s really nice to have a chance to say hello outside of the studio atmosphere.

The radio listeners are presently listening to music.

Surprisingly soon the alarm stops and the all clear is given. We head back inside and I’m escorted straight to the studio.

Bright Eyes (Art Garfunkel) is playing.

I take a seat opposite Bill, behind a microphone that has a green covering.

The music ends.

The interview begins.

And how do I feel about the whole experience now?

Very positive. The people were all great. Bill Buckley is a lovely guy. The questions were put together in a way that provided an opportunity to say a little about how I got to be where I am.

Of course … after the event … with some time to think … there are lots of observations:

• wow … I said kind of and I guess wayyyyy too many times
• there are so many things that I didn’t say that I would have liked to have said … other people that have made such a big and positive difference to me over the past few years on the journey that I’ve made to self acceptance … people like Fiona Floyd, Billie and Kathie, the group that meet for TV Dinners, the Surrey Swans and friends that include Laura, Tina, Emma, Nikki and many more. Places like Pink Punters and Cafe Rouge.

I missed out a whole lot more than I said … but 20 minutes is a short time.

I’m glad of the experience and really grateful to Catherine Bolsover at BBC Radio Berkshire who first contacted Billie and Kathie about the possibility of doing this interview and followed it all up and organised it.

Towards the end of the  interview, Bill asked:

What’s your ultimate aim both for you and for transvestite people generally? Do you have any kind of dreams or hopes particularly?

My response was:

I think, I find it very satisfying and comforting just to be able to kind of walk out in normal places like town centres and things and for people just not to take any notice really. Just to be treated as a human being.

Bill: You just want to be accepted.

Andrea: Yes, exactly.

And I think that captures the essence.

And as Bill said:

Well we’ve come a long way when you think how life would have been either for me as a gay man, or you as a TV, even 20 years ago. Certainly 50 0r 100 years ago. My goodness. Hooray for that.

And yes, things are changing.

And hopefully just little things, this interview will help in that.

Christlike transvestites

Happy 2011!

Christmas time was good … in a secular kind of way. The past few days we’ve been in Llanbedrog – a small village on the Lleyn peninsula in North Wales and 2011 was seen in at the Nefyn & District Golf Club just a few miles away.

A few days ago I stared reading the book A New Kind of Christianity by Brian D McLaren which was recommended to me by Dani a few weeks ago.

I’m at the end of chapter 19.

And I’m surprised.

Very surprised.

I had thought that there was no way for me back to any kind of faith.

And now I’m not so sure.

I’m not there yet. But I can almost see the possibility.

I’m not really going to write a book review here right now … maybe one day. But I want to capture some of the thoughts and feelings that it has evoked in me … and that requires some mention of what the book says … or at least what it is saying to me. I sense though that there will be some rambling around in this posting.

In my born again days I would have viewed Brian McLaren as a liberal kind of theologian … roughly translated it means I’d have classed him as not really being a Bible Believer.

There are quite a few reasons why my involvement with Christianity terminated. I think that really it began with personal kind of issues. One of these was pornography. I’ve mentioned this issue in previous postings. There was a time when a minister at the church that I attended took me along to a service at another church. Afterwards he asked me if I hadn’t felt inclined to step forward when everyone was invited to … for prayer and healing. I said that I hadn’t. And then he asked me about pornography … which my wife had mentioned to him … or perhaps it was to his wife for her to mention it to him so that he could mention it to me.

We prayed and he gave me a book to read. The book had an unbalanced view of pornography … the kind of thing that gave the impression that all users of porn become child molesters. You know … in the same way that everyone that owns a kitchen knife ends up stabbing naked ladies in showers.

In those days the porn was something I felt guilty about. In the same way that I felt guilty about lingerie.

But the prayers didn’t help that much really. Not for more than a few months.

There was never a real discussion – just an assumption that all pornography in all circumstances is always wrong. And other assumptions – it always degrades the people involved in it – always results in men seeing women as objects to own rather than as people – always exploits people … perverts people.

I’ve said this before … and no doubt will again if I get the chance … I know that porn can do all those things. But … you know … if your honest about it … some brands of Christianity and Islam do all of those things as well. Only its much worse when when you feel that it’s God that is involved because you have no right to complain about it.

Anyway … I’m mentioning this here now because it was a factor that made me feel uncomfortable in a church kind of environment.  And I was growing tired of the discomfort and the pretence that I felt obliged to make that everything was ok.

There were other things as well. I spent a while in secular counselling sessions … alone and also with Sally.

These provided an opportunity to talk about things that had only been secrets before. I think prior to that time I’d never really understood the value of counselling. But to be able to say what you think and feel without the risk of someone wanting to lay hands on you and cast out demons is somehow liberating. In all my years in church I’d never felt that. The dressing thing didn’t crop up. At the time I didn’t know that I was a transvestite … only that sometimes I likes to wear lingerie.

During this time I began to withdraw from church and began to think about what I believed and why I believed it.

I remember thinking things like:

• Did I really believe in a universe or a God where the vast majority of people that had ever lived were going to end up in hell?
• Did I believe in a God that sanctioned genocide .. I guess a holocaust … perpetrated by the Hebrews in the Old Testament against other groups of people in the middle east?
• Did I really believe in a God that disliked same sex relations so much that they were condemned to hell?

The problem was that I’d always been a Bible Believing Christian. And my understanding of the Bible led to those kinds of conclusions.

Mostly I think I’d glossed over them up to then … thinking that well … God is good and God loves people … and He’ll see that the right thing happens and maybe explain it all one day.

But I had reached a stage where these questions … and others … and my own experiences and feelings meant that I needed to discover a different kind of God.

But I couldn’t see any way of doing this without taking out the scissors and cutting out lots of verses from the Bible that I had, up to that point, believed.

And how do I decide which bits to cut out – or to re-interpret. If I just cut out the bits that I don’t approve of or that are inconvenient to me then don’t I end up with a God that I invented for myself?

So … in the end … I put the entire book away.

Of course … even most Bible Believing Christians re-interpret things in the Bible every so often. What once was bad is now ok. Some things that were once ok are now bad. And some bits are just ignored because … well … Jesus couldn’t actually have meant what he literally said could he … so he must have actually meant something else. If you’ve been to church you know what I mean.

Having said all of that … not everything that happens in Churches is bad. Not at all. I’ve tended here to simply focus on things that contributed to me leaving.

So … back to the book A New Kind of Christianity.

For a long time I’ve been pretty sure that I can never go back to the beliefs that I used to have. And I had thought that meant that there was no way back to Christianity.

The book that Dani recommended has changed the second part of my thinking.

Maybe there is a way back to Christianity … maybe what I had been experiencing previously hadn’t actually been the entire thing.

I know that some people (and I would once have been one of these people) will say that what I’m doing is attempting to re-invent God in a way that fits me. They will say that I have to accept God as God … and then do as I am told.

But really … even fundamentalists … pick and choose things. The KJV 1611 people that I corresponded with a while ago have picked a specific Bible version and decided that this is the one … the literal and absolutely only English language version of the Bible … that anyone should believe. But they still decide on how things should be interpreted and understood.

Emily Saliers (an Indigo Girl) penned the following, and I think she’s right:

And as we sat stuck
You could hear the trash truck
Making its way through the neighbourhood
Picking up the thrown out
Different from house to house
We get to decide what we think is no good
We're sculpted from youth
The chipping away makes me weary
And as for the truth
It seems like we just pick a theory
And it's the one that justifies
Our daily lives
And backs us with quiver and arrows
To protect openings
Cause when the warring begins
How quickly the wide open narrows

So … I know I am open to the criticism that I’m re-inventing God in an image that fits me.

Back to the book again.

Brian McLaren sets out to respond to 10 questions that he feels are important with respect to Christianity and people. He says he’s not offering answers to the questions … rather they are responses to them that represent the beginning of a dialog rather than the end of one.

One thing that struck me is that the doubts and questions I had about the do I really believe that God kind of things I mentioned earlier aren’t all that unusual. It’s just that people in Churches often don’t have a chance to air such doubts.

Another thing is the way that he presents Jesus within the context of the Bible. He feels that what you need to do is take the person of Jesus as described in the Gospels and then interpret the Bible through Jesus … rather than the other way round. So … in responding to the question Is God Violent? Brian McLaren starts with Jesus and then looks at some of the passages that seem to paint a violent picture of God … mainly in the Old Testament. The book doesn’t provide any “once and for all” answer or a set of proofs for this. Just the beginnings of a discussion. But the starting point of a definitely non-violent Jesus provides a totally different perspective on the whole question. And … it’s so obvious that this is the right starting point it left me wondering how come I hadn’t realised this before?

The third (and biggest and most important) thing for me is that in summing up what Christianity is all about he puts it very simply.

Being a Christian is about being Christlike.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

It’s strange how sometimes the bleedin’ obvious gets buried beneath so much other stuff that when it gets re-stated it’s like a breath of fresh air and a revelation.

It’s not about church meetings … nor understanding theology nor having correct doctrine.

And … you know … even people who are not Christians can be Christlike.

And Christians … well … they can be non Christlike.

In a way I knew all of the above.

But in a way I never thought of what it means. A whole lot of what I believed has been turned upside down and inside out … and I’m amazed that it’s giving me a feeling that maybe there is a way back for me. Though really it’s not a way back … more of a way forwards.

I know that some people will say it’s not a way forwards at all. It’s heretical. It’s wrong. Blasphemous. Untrue. An abomination. And that I am headed for hell.

I know also that to some of these people … the concept of a transgendered Andrea is also an abomination.

But maybe some people with thoughts like these will try to see beyond the skirts and dresses that I wear.

I’m not sure yet … but I see possibilities where I previously saw none.

So … if I were to want to be Christlike … well … would Jesus have dressed as a girl? How can I be Christlike and also be a transvestite?

I think my response … and no .. it’s not my final answer … is that the question itself is perhaps missing the point.

Being Christlike isn’t about growing a beard and letting my hair grow longer (assuming that Jesus did these things). Or wearing a robe. Or being a man. Or being Jewish. Or being born of a virgin. Or not wearing a dress. Or avoiding lipstick and earrings. It’s not even about being what is conventionally called a Christian.

Being Christlike is about loving other people in the same kind of way that Jesus did.

It’s more about how I deal with people that are transvestites than whether or not I am a transvestite myself.

It’s not about whether I am heterosexual, bisexual or homosexual. It’s not about the colour of my skin. It’s about how I interact with other people.

Sally is keen that I pop along to a Contemplative Fire get together with her one day – she says it would be ok to appear there as Andrea. So perhaps that will happen at some point – she has asked before but I never saw the point before. It’ll make for a different experience than Pink Punters and Candy Girls, I expect.

I have a lot more to (re)discover.

As I mentioned earlier … I am very surprised.

Thank you Dani.

Weddings, Transvestites and Jesus

Last weekend was the occasion of the wedding of my niece … or one of them at any rate.

It was great to see family and friends … and the whole occasion was wonderful.

My rather long and shiny fingernails were commented upon.

During the evening Jan … a close friend of Sally’s sister and someone that we’ve known for many years … though not very closely said to me …

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure … go ahead.”

I’m not sure of the exact words that followed on from here. But Jan was interested in the state of my faith … relationship with Jesus.

We had first met Jan at church … and she and her husband are still actively involved in things … Jan’s husband is closely involved in a well known Christian organisation in the UK.

She was interested in how and why I had got to where I am.

I talked about my questions … my doubts. And Jan answered them in the way that I might have answered them a few years ago.

We sat hand in hand and talked and talked.

“Jan … I’m a transvestite.”

It was a simple statement.

We talked some more … about gender … marriage … sexuality.

Who do I think about having sex with? Am I gay?

Jan’s husband dropped by as well and we talked some more. Sitting hand in hand.

It’s still true that I don’t really understand transvestism. But I know that, for me at any rate, that it isn’t just a sexual thing. It’s an expression of who I am. Andrea isn’t just someone that I dress up as. Andrea is me.

Jan and her husband pointed me in the direction of Jesus. But they didn’t see Andrea as an abomination. They didn’t talk about being prayed over …. being healed … or being possessed.

I know though … from experience … that diplomatic Christians will sometimes say “talk to Jesus about it and see what He says” … as an encoded way of saying “read the Bible and you will find that it says you better change your ways or else!”.

I don’t know for sure if that is what they were saying. And it’s possible that they weren’t.

Just as I would have done in the past, though, they pointed towards Jesus rather than to the church. The church … just like people … is full of contradictions and flaws.

So … can Jesus accept Andrea? Is the question meaningful? If I decided that He can … how do I square that with the people that say He can’t because the Bible says that He couldn’t possibly.

I know that at the moment at least I couldn’t accept a Jesus … a God … a church … a religion that couldn’t accept Andrea. And even if I could it would make no difference because such a religion … church … God … Jesus would be incapable of accepting me.

You see, it’s not that Andrea is a fetish thing. When I talk with people about Andrea I’m talking about me. I think that’s why I was hand in hand with both Jan and her husband at times as we talked. It was personal.

I don’t know where the conversations and thoughts will lead.

But it’s good to be able to talk with other people … and to discover … again … that people cope surprisingly well with accepting me.

Andreas Outings and Being Different

Last week was the first time in what seems ever so long that I had a trip out as Andrea. It was to a monthly TV Dinner at Kathie and Billie’s.

The food was excellent … as was the company.

Nikki had news of a recent trip to Pink Punters … an evening of champagne, good company and dancing. I was envious.

It was great to catch up with Tina, Julia, Tania and Katie as well as Billie and Kathie and everyone else.

I’ve heard really nice things about Femesque and am need of a change in hair and also makeup hints and tips are always welcome. So I hope to pay a visit sometime soon.

This coming Sunday, being the last in the month, is a Surrey Swans day. So that’ll be nice. And there’s a chance of a visit to Candy Girls with Tina in October.

I’m frequently challenged at my own attitudes to things and to people.

As a t-girl myself I have developed … or maybe acquired … a set of preconceptions.

Yet the transgendered “scene” challenges these fairly frequently.

Most t-girls that I’ve met are keen to express femininity in the way they dress and makeup.

Of course there is a particular kind of view of femininity here. And it’s not the only one. I’ll call this particular view of femininity “t-girl femininity”.

There are people in the transgendered community though that have a different view of things. People with beards … less makeup … stubbly chins … an unconventional dress sense.

There are t-girls who will only venture out into public because they feel they will not be spotted. And others that can’t venture out for fear of being spotted.

And there are ways in which a transsexual perspective on things can be quite different from a transvestite perspective.

When I go out I accept the fact that some people will spot me as a transvestite. But, something I learned from Fiona Floyd quite a while ago … that’s what I am. And so it need be no big deal. And yet …  it depends on who notices and how they react.

It is, I think, about accepting differences. People being able to accept transvestites like me as just being different. Just as I must accept other people in the transgendered community as being different. And all kinds of other people as being different.

Different isn’t bad. It’s not always easy. But in itself it isn’t bad.

Sparkle 2010 – Saturday

A thing I forgot to mention that happened on Friday afternoon as Tina and I were walking along Canal Street. A girl stopped and asked if I could help tie the shoulder strap of her dress together … her partner was standing there looking a little helpless … she said he was useless at that kind of thing. We talked a little while and the shoulder strap was fastened in almost no time.

It’s kind of nice how some girls just sort of accept us as girls.

10:00 am and time to get up.

Shave, shower, teeth, makeup and dress.

The plan is to breakfast at Weatherspoons – we just have to get there by mid day.

Laura and Billie say they’ll meet us in a while.

We’re just about finished eating when we discover that Billie and Laura maybe drank a little more than we thought last night.

Ring … ring.

“Hi Laura.”

“Hi Andrea. Err ... which way do you turn when you leave the hotel to get to Weatherspoons?”

“Turn right … walk a hundred yards or so and it’s on the right.”

“Oh … we went the wrong way. See you in a few minutes.”

Just a few minutes later they arrive. We head for the Arndale Centre to do a little shopping.

We wander around Primark a while. Then H & M.

Do you like the shades?

 

There’s a man walking from side to side across the paved area.

Bible in hand.

Reading.

Condemning all kinds of things.

The term Sodomite is included in what he is reading.

And he’s not saying anything nice.

At first I walk on by.

But I can’t go on just leaving what he is saying unchallenged.

I walk towards him … but his head is in his Bible so I don’t think he sees me coming.

I put my arm around his shoulders and say … “Brother … you are wrong.”

He’s a little surprised.

“Do you believe that God is Holy?” he asks me.

“If God is there … I think He loves people more than you give Him credit for.” I reply.

“But do you believe that God is Holy?”

I look, and feel, sad.

We only talk for a few moments.

I guess that to him, Andrea is just as much an abomination as as the sodomites that he has been reading about. Though he doesn’t say this, and he doesn’t look appalled.

There are people standing close by.

I ask if they agree with what he’s saying.

“Nooooooo they say.”

They say they find it difficult to see how God could cope with such people in Heaven.

To some extent I feel that I know where the preacher is coming from.

There was a time … a long time ago … when I stood in front of a microphone in the Town Hall Square in Rochdale and gave Bible Readings and little sermons.

The emphasis though was, I think, on God’s love rather than His judgement.

But I know that the preacher was doing what he thought was right.

I guess that he believes that TV’s, TS’s, gay people … the unconverted … are travelling along the wide road that leads to Hell and he wants to help rescue them.

He’s doing what he does because he cares.

But, I believe that the place that he is starting from is wrong.

And good intentions don’t make a thing right.

We passed by a little later and I took a few pictures. He smiled and said he hoped that I’d caught his good side. Actually, it’s hard to find a good side to what he was saying. There he is on the right.

 

I don’t feel angry at him … though I do feel sad.

I’m glad that not all Christians have the same overly narrow minded view of God. There are churches that accept Gay and transgendered folk.

In trying to work out what passage he was reading from I Googled around a little. There are a lot of people with views that are, to me at any rate, appalling. Truly appalling.

In a strange way, though, the event is somewhat liberating for me. I’m past the stage where I feel that as a transvestite I’m compelled to fade into the background. Little by little I’m gaining the confidence to just be myself … and … if need be … to assert to other people that I have the right to be myself.

Having said that … it was a safe kind of environment to do. He may have had problems with accepting gay people’s right to be gay … but he was hardly likely to start being abusive or violent. There are other places and times where it is better not to be noticed.

We pop into Evans … a girl wanders over to us and asks “Is Sparkle this weekend?”

Well … we certainly aren’t hoodwinking everyone into thinking we are girls.

But for me that’s ok … I’m not actually a girl ... I’m a transvestite and I’m ok with that.

We have a nice little chat with her.

Next stop is a cafe for a bite to eat for Laura (who had not had breakfast) and coffee, Sprite or water for the rest of us.

Tina is on the lookout for some perfume so we begin searching for a Boots store.

A girl walks towards us … “Hey girls …. you all look great!” she smiles.

It’s strange … how differently people react.

She tells us where to find Boots … just out the exit and across the street.

Inside the store, we are handed lots and lots and lots of samples by the girls on the cosmetics counters.

Slowly we meander back towards the Canal Street area and head for Sackville Gardens, where the afternoon show takes place.

We take a look around the various stalls. Several Police forces are represented:

A lady at an NHS (National Health Service) stall asks me if I’d mind answering a few questions. They’re collecting information about transgendered people’s experiences of the NHS. So I answer some questions.

Lots of people seem to be selling wigs. A few are selling boobs. Cosmetics. Clothing.

At one stall a girl says “We’ve changed the prices … everything is just £1. Well … everything apart from me. I’m 50 pence” she winks.

There’s music … January is the only non TG performer. Here she is with the Pink Punters bus in the background.

We head for Eden again … there it is in the background to the left, with Tina in the foreground.

 

And again, with Andrea in the foreground:

A few longboats sail down the canal … stopping to pass through the locks.

I just kind of rested up against a lock gate.

 

And then back to the park to watch the Tranny of the Year presentation.

And here you go … a bit of January singing and Tranny of the Year:

 

It’s a little curious that there is a sign at the entrance to Sackville Gardens explaining that you had better not drink alcohol in there.

Today, of course, as well as representatives from three police forces there is also a bar and the alcohol is flowing. But not much sign of anyone getting drunk.

Eventually Tina and I head for the hotel to get changed for the Sparkle Ball.

As we head in we meet Laura and Billie who are two hours early. They head for the bar. We head for the hotel room.

Everything gets renewed.

A little over an hour … well … quite a bit over an hour … later we head for the lift (elevator). and here I am.

 

And here’s Tina:

The receptionist telephones for a taxi … it’s not actually very far to where the Ball is … unless you have heels … then everywhere is very far.

The taxi arrives within a few minutes and here we are a little later:

And a passer by:

 

And eventually we head back towards Canal Street … rather slowly and carefully and call in at the Via bar for a couple of drinks.

And all to soon it’s time to wash the makeup off … sleep … and be a guy again.

I did enjoy the weekend a lot.

Roll on Sparkle 2011!