Late start Saturday, figured it would be a long day, so had a lie in. Dress, decide an outfit I had chosen a couple of nights ago didn’t work, top was too baggy, try and find something else, but not a black polo neck, I’m always in a black polo neck. Eventually cobble something together, where’s my other grey leg warmer gone? Couldn’t find (my flat eats stuff) it so wear stripy ones instead. Result is a sort of casualish, possibly fairly fashionable and probably a bit too young, but its comfy and the opaque tights and soft boots de-tart the tiny skirt.

Skirt was from Primark, got in the week. Bought a few things that trip, that skirt, a blouse, a dress and a pair of gloves. Later inspection of the purchases showed I made the padawan mistake, looked at the hanger not the tag, dress wasn’t size 14, it was 8, oops. Tried it on anyway at home, could just button it up, but only just and it didn’t look right. Also found I’d bought two slightly different left handed gloves and they charged me for 2 pairs! Always carefully check what you pick up in Primark, always.

Ohh sunny outside, last gasp of summer. Wander towards Islington around lunch time. Trip to visit my Nephews had be postponed to next Sunday, so I had the weekend free, new club was opening, Papillon in the evening, so could go to that, but the rest of the day, hrmm, lunch, little shopping, pictures perhaps?

Walking through Islington in the sunshine was nice, nobody seemed to be looking at me, feet didn’t hurt, not to cold, not too warm just nice. Saw at least 3 other girls (women? i suppose, they must of been aged 25-35) in similar tartanish pleated skirts so I wasn’t totally off trend either. 

Stop a new bar/pub thingy on Islington Park Street, sure I’d read a favourable review in the Metro earlier in the week, well they did review a bar on Islington park street that sounded like this one anyway. Rather eccentric and opulent inside, not your pub standard, its empty to, they do food and look a nice sofa, well that’s lunch sorted.

Glass of wine and the cheese board, no house wine, I have to choose, oh dear, just go with the first thing they offer, not really particular about wine me. Cheese board is all rather posh artisan English hard cheeses, some unpasteurised, in some fairly big chunks with a couple of big pots of fancy chutney all served on a wooden platter with some bread, very nice.  Settle with my book, the wine and cheese on the sofa, lovely way to spend lunch. The 2 guys who, I guess, run the place, are attentive and bring me a 2nd glass of wine, probably cause I’m the only customer. Why a place like this is empty and the naff Weatherspoons 3 minutes away is packed is one of the reasons why there is something fundamentally wrong with the universe.

Finish my lunch, say good bye, only to be beckoned back. I’d forgotten to pay for the 2nd glass of wine, oops. Have to ask the name of the place, its called “Public House” they reply, It’s not a pub Jim(Jane?), but not as we know it. There are a few places like this popping up in the north end of Islington, Albert and Pearl, Keston lodge and another place that’s rebranded its self as the “Library”, bit of a cluster of far too cool, slightly retro, non chain loungy bars that, so far don’t mind the odd (very odd in my case) T-girl, which is nice.

Carry on down the street to Angel, the wine and food has only helped to the general nice of happy warm feeling of rightness, of belonging, of just being me.

Camera shop has the new Nikon P6000, just in I guess, they haven’t got label by it yet. Do I need to replace my G9 compact? Well it’s smaller and lighter, wide angel, has all the manual modes, RAW, 13.5 mp, and is compatible with my flashguns and remote, even does CLS. Ask the price, er shop assistant doesn’t know and she has to ask, yes it is must be new, she finds out, £429, ouch, doubly ouch if you have seen the dollar price on the net. Think there is still life left in my G9, plus with 13.5mp I doubt the high ISO performance will be any better than my current, probably will be worse.

Check the cinema,Rocknrolla is on in an hour, OK not a chick flick, but hey. Waste time till the film browsing around the local shops, Karen Millen’s leather jackets are sumptuous aren’t they, slightly out of my budget though, sigh, Next, sale, maybe this, maybe that, but no, nothing right. M&S, that £10 quid 2 meal deal is on again, get it? The shelves appear to be emptying fast, best wait till after the pictures though.

Bit more time to kill, wander up the market looking at knock off bags and cheap sweater dresses. Hear a voice behind me, in a not particularly pleasant tone, shout “Oi Mate”, then “Oi you with the Adams Apple”. Oh dear, been clocked by an arsehole haven’t I. Don’t look , just keep walking, guess he saw my neck when I was craning up to look at some clothes, perhaps I should of worn the polo neck, that would of hidden it.  Pop goes the nice warm feeling, well it was good while it lasted. Console myself with the fact (might not be a fact but hey I’m consoling my self here OK) he needed a good look at my neck to clock me.

Loop around back to the cinema and go to see my film. You could describe it as Lock Stock III or Snatch II, its definitely from the same cockney gangster mould, if you liked those 2 (and I did) you will like Rocknrolla. Thandie Newton is rather gorgeous as the posh Accountant in killer heels who has possibly the shortest ever sex scene on film with Gerard Butler. Anyway usual stuff, money, coincidence, double dealing, violence, booze, cigs, stereotypes, swearing, London landmarks, wit and a rather large cast of characters in intertwined plot threads. Possibly too large is list of characters, it’s not a short film, but several don’t really get enough screen time or development. It’s a lot of fun, recommended, little to like his previous films, well yes, but hey it’s a formula that works for the moment. Have to give a nod to the lighting too, really well done. Possibly the idea its based on skyrocketing London property values has dated it a little though.

Back to M&S, still just enough food left on the shelves to get the 2 meals for a tenner, then its bus home.

Suppose I could of gone out in the current outfit, but the club was doing a “School Disco” theme for the opening night, hey an excuse to dress up Makeup a bit heavier, boobs heaver, hair changed for curly blonde drag queen Barbie (which with the clip on pony tail is also heavier), different tartan skirt and ruffly blouse bought last week, worn with a stripy New Look jacket with badges on, black thigh high socks and some buckle up Mary Jane’s.

Cute? Perhaps, over the top, certainly hide as much as I can under a long coat and tube it to Kings Cross. Slightly apprehensive, possibly cause I’m so overdressed in public and slightly because the club is new, an unknown quantity. Also being new, it might not be very busy, had this same problem with a club I went to a year or so ago on its opening night, virtually no one turned up, it folded quite soon. Still this is on Saturday, and it’s centrally located (just round the corner from Kings Cross in a Bar called “Central station” ), which is good (the other place was in Finsbury Park on a Monday), but there are also a couple of TG nights competing with it, inc the very well established Way-Out Club. But I’ve met a couple of the organisers before (Christina, on the trip to Brighton Pride and Roses Boat Trip), plus its local, so I guessed I should try and make the effort. Clubbing by your self is more than a bit sad though.

That pic was taken Friday morning on the way to work BTW, that’s why it’s light. It’s gone 10 when I got there on Saturday and quite dark. Get their and go down to the cellar bar where the night is held. Oh dear, apart from the organisers, there can’t be more than 4 T-girls and a few guys here, its pretty empty, nobody is dancing either, but most have followed the School disco theme, so I don’t look completely ridiculous. Go into wallflower mode as per, a couple of people try to talk to me, but it’s a struggle, retreat to a corner with a glass or wine. The location isn’t bad, drink isn’t totally overpriced, but what it needs is people

DJ tries to get the party going, but really she just talks to much. A few do start to dance a bit, and when the right tune comes on (and I’d finished the 2nd glass) I join them for a jump around the dance floor.  But only for one, return to my corner. But after a couple more tracks, a GG (99.5% sure) pulls me onto the dance floor again, she’s been trying to get more people to dance for the last few numbers and this was my turn. There’s only the two of us on the dance floor, but I don’t care, dancing with a cute GG at finger tips doesn’t happen every day. Don’t really know what to do though, and can’t really dance, so it’s a tad awkward. Not good at dancing, especially with other people, lack of experience, when I was school age and should have been learning this stuff at real school discos, I was actually at home messing around on a Commodore 64. Perhaps reason for dressing No. 137 is an attempt at doing the teenage years again? That possibly explains my dress sense.

Well I’d had a dance with a cute girl, and although a couple more had turned up I felt the night really wasn’t going to get any better, so I ducked out around 11:30. In what has to be a fit of wine induced bravado, I didn’t do up my coat, so silly skirt, ruffles and thigh socks for all to see. And what reaction did I get walking across the busy (even at this time of night) brightly lit front of Kings Cross? As far as I could tell nothing, nowt, nada, not even a 2nd glance. 6’ 40 year old tranny dressed in an OTT school girl outfit illicits bugger all reaction from the London Saturday night crowd. They really have seen everything before. Perhaps this is why tranny specific clubs in the capital have such a hard time, the actually need for them is quite low, 99% of Jo and Joanne public don’t mind us.

So what next, go home or keep dancing? decided to let me feet decide, and they did, they took me to the Metropolitain/Hamersmith &City/Circle line platform. That’s not the way home, that’s the way to the Way-out club, dancing it is them.

Get the first Hammersmith & City Line train to Aldgate East. Group of Spanish guys sit next to me, they’re OK, in a good mood chatting amongst themselves, might of heard one of them say “Hommbre”, might have been about me, couldn’t tell, that’s the limit of my Spanish.

Get out of the tube station, this doesn’t look right, its dark and I’m a bit lost. Then I realise I should of gone to Aldgate tube, not Aldgate East. Am slightly disorientated (wine, or blonde?) and have to ask the tube staff for directions. Turns out not to be far, and when I get there I recognise Minorities which leads to Crosswall and the club. Do pass a couple of bunches of lads on the way, get some reactions, a Wolf Whistle and an a sharp intake of breath and ”Nice” . Its not as well lit here, and I guess the slightly beered up lads only saw the skirt, the boobs and the blonde, probably didn’t see my face at all. Decided to do coat up.

At the club itsto late to get the T-Girl discount, so have to pony up the 12 quid to get in, Papillion was a fiver, but it is busy, as busy as I’ve seen it, did I just say something about TG clubs in the capitol struggling? But the dance floor isn’t that busy, never is, T-Girls are generally not keen dancers are they. But put my coat and bag in the cloak room, swift Vodka and Redbull and make a fool of myself under the coloured lights.

Usual routine for the way out, for me anyway, dance a bit, sit and watch a bit, have a drink, don’t talk to anyone. It’s not the chattiest of places. Perhaps I look at bit weird (OK probably true) and scary (been mentioned) and unapproachable (been mentioned also). Still it keeps the admirers away.

Cabaret comes on gone 1, it’s the Way-Out take on The sound of music, more than a bit camp, but actually rather fun, one of the better performances I’ve seen there I think. Get big camera from bag and take a few snaps.

After the show I collar the club photog to take a couple of snaps, he has a bigger Nikon than mine, so I guess he would know which way to point it. He takes quite a few shots actually but I’m looking a bit rough(er) by now so they don’t all work.

Another dance or two, and have to call it a night, say my good byes to no one and go looking for a Taxi, running into Christina from Papillion and her GG friend on the way. They had just arrived, moving on from their own club, oh well. Perhaps I should stayed and tried to get the cute GG to dance with me again (and got her name).

Taxi to home, well near home, stop the cab a bit early so I can get chips. Chicken shop is packed, a street sweeper lorry’s has stopped opposite and the night shift crew are getting tea (jokingly asking for 27 sugars) everyone is in a jovial mod and nobody minds me as I wait for my hot greasy carbs to be fried. Walk home with chips, getting another wolf whistle, a compliment on my hair along the way (I’m in poor light) and I think someone might of tried to invite me to a party. Not a bad day really, dressing up and not trying to blend in can work in the right conditions.
 

The pasta sauce strikes back.

New MMORPG released this week, Warhammer online, would of liked to spend more time running around in my underwear (virtually, you see the newbie armour isn’t worth wearing) with a big sword hitting stuff, but Helena time beckoned. Not the usual routine on Saturday, plan was a dinner out with a group from Roses later in the evening followed by a night at the Magic Theatre, very dressy up night, and probably a late one to, so decided to save the outfit and face for later. Stayed in boy mode and tided up, did laundry and a supermarket run in the morning instead, get the chores out of the way first.

But well, there is this branch of Price Less near Morison’s… Had decided after all that the shoes I bought last week where just too uncomfortable and was looking for another option, and Price Less provided, nice pair of black size 9 patent courts, round toe, nearly 4″ heel, for £13 quid. Bit tight (tried them on later), but more comfortable than the other pair and didn’t flop about, result. Right that’s the shoes sorted. Decide to wear flats for travelling in though.

Change, lump on face from last week was healing, still a bit of a mess though manage to mostly cover it up with makeup. Outfit was a red shinny M&&S blouse, black pencil, seemed tights (stocking can be too much work sometimes), and those shoes, accessorised with a satin gloves, a cigarette holder, a black patent bag and a little fascinator, going for the classic 40s/50s Vamp look. Cept I don’t think the hat and the holder actually worked that well, so left it out of the picture. Long black hair for a change, not the most realistic of wigs, but it suited the outfit and this was a dressing up night.

Not 100% sure about it all, face ain’t great and something about it all doesn’t work. Plus it’s really a bit plain for the Magic Theatre, but since we are eating out first, I guess leather micro skirt and thigh boots wouldn’t really be practical.

Just about manage to get it all sorted before running (told you the flats where a good idea) for a bus at about 6:40. Get to the restaurant, a traditional Italian called Old Amalfi (which curiously, in this day and age, doesn’t appear to have a web site) on Southampton row in Bloomsbury, just round the corner from the ballroom. Hrmm, 7:20 Bit early so loop around the block. Walk in at 7:30 and ask the waitress about the booking, she points me to a table with 3 of the girls, I’d walked right past them, Doh. Well I hadn’t met them before, but I guess my TDAR was on the blink, there was Alison P, Alison Essex and Paula-Sion. The meal was arranged with one of those “Anyone want to eat before hand” type threads on Roses, these things usually work out well and can be a good way to meet new people. We where expecting a 5th for dinner, Jessica Hart, but a text exchange found she was running late. Not a bad meal, the other really liked their food, but my pasta and salmon was merely pretty good, service was friendly, but a bit slow. 5 slightly over dressed T-Girls in a restaurant can’t have been unnoticed, but nobody made an issue. Conversation, always a problem for me, luckily I has Jess to my left who can make up for that. One thing about going out for these sort of meals is most of the other attendees tend to be TS, and the talk always gets around to hormones and doctors and the like, feel a bit out of place. Any more weekend princess want to come out, we vain and vapid TV’s can talk shoes and like er stuff whilst the transition chat goes on About now is where I had found I’d split pasta sauce on my top, over my left breast stain wouldn’t come out. The others quipped I was lactating

Of course the camera’s came out Even on the walk to the ballroom.

Different sort of look from Jessica, with a lace outfit from Camden, it does suit her don’t you think. I was taking the pics, but what with the sauce stain and a general lack of confidence with my looks I tried to shy away from the front of cameras for the rest of the night, preferring to be behind them instead. But then again not many people wanted my picture anyway.

And we are here, about 9 something, band is already playing, but it doesn’t look too busy. Change in to my hat. gloves and heels, touch up makeup and apply lip gloss (lip gloss and food just doesn’t work). Like the lip gloss look but the synthetic hair seems to have an almost magnetic attraction to the stuff and you spend half the night removing hair from your mouth.

Have a drink, but get into the usual routine, wander around, take a few photos, dance a little, another drink, and so on. But due to general unsteadiness, swap the wine and cocktails for lemonade later on. Meet a few familiar faces and a couple of new ones (hello Josie and Rachel, glad to finally meet you) but as usual the talky bit lets me down.

Photo’s take plenty as usual, have big camera, but have left the monster lens and flashgun at home (to save sapce, only wanted to carry one bag) and are only using a prime (albeit a rather big one) and the popup flash.

Some very creative outfits out there, people had made the effort. Pity my pics don’t do them justice, they simply weren’t as good as the last time, mostly down to my cakhandedness, but I probably did need more light (it was pretty dark in there) than the little flash could provide and I’m beginning to think my Sigma 24 f1.8 is a bit soft, especially at wide apertures and it was it was hunting for focus a bit in the dark too, actually think the Sigy 24-70 zoom actually does a better job. More learning experience I guess. The same pro photographer as act IV was here doing his stuff, so check the Magic Theatre’s Flickr for better pics

Manage a couple of hours in the heels, but after that, just have to change back into the flats, rubbish tranny or what. Also manage to loose Jess and one of the Alison’s, they had moved on to another club, nice to meet you Alison and Jess, always a pleasure. Actually the placed felt a bit short of people, not a lot more than act IV, felt a bit empty really, the night still hasn’t regained its momentum after the Act III bar problems.

But the entertainment this time was rather good, a sardonic compare (forget her name, sorry, but I reckon I’ve here before, Tranny shack?) introduced a couple of Burlesque acts, Diva Hollywood and Crimson Skye, Diva did two turns and Crimson one.

Pics a bit blurry I especially liked the opening to Diva’s act, a 2001 pastiche, where the primitive cave woman find a pair of sparkly red shoes and holds them up to the sky, complete with the all the music, tranny/geekout before moving on to the more traditional Burlesque fan dance to the Trog’s Wild thing. Crimsons act was to Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” a straight jacket and severed head adding a bit of dark humour to her performance.

Also there was a live band, The Voodoo Trombone Quartet , though there must have been about seven of them. But they did have a trombone, in fact a complete horns section, always a good thing in my book, there first set didn’t seem to register much (was distracted, I guess), but the 2nd was rocking. Oops seemed to have forgotten to post their pictures, damm, they where some of the better ones.

Put the camera away after those snaps and had my bit of crazy “dancing” in the corner, on my own, eye’s mostly shut, lost in my own little world with the music forming into strange animated shapes The music has to be good for that to happen.

But I’m Helena “Lightweight” Love and by one something I’d had enough, get my coat and slip out into the night, just managing to get another pic of Diva and Crimson on the stairs.

Nearly trip over the rope leaving the place, prat. Home then, buses appeared thin on the ground, only saw one example of mine, that was packed and didn’t stop, so just walked it. Didn’t even fancy chips, all that pasta earlier and a too tight skirt you see. Quite a few moderately pissed revellers are still around in Islington, but don’t seem to be noticed much and get home without a problem for a nice cup of tea.

Sunday, face still there and in not to bad a condition and dragging a razor over it didn’t do to much damage, so Helena again well most of the chores where done on Saturday, but there was a little shopping left to do, West End it is then. The sun is shinning, bonus

After all that dressing up yesterday I have to restore the balance and go plain, very plain, grey jeans and grey polo neck, grey boots, OK the boots are more silver than grey , but it’s all still pretty bland, that has the advantage of making me less noticeable I suppose, plus it’s comfortable. Back to blonde too, that hair really needs a wash.

Try a pic in natural light, but have to leave the shutter open long to get it, can’t stand still enough and so it goes a little soft. Forget to take a camera with me into town, so that the last photo, lucky you.

Yet another trip to the West End, I’ll keep it brief. Bus to town, get a new book in Forbidden Planet (Neil Asher novella collection) quiet bar with friendly young waitress who called me Love (how did she know?) for lunch, MAC for bits and pieces, tried to explain the need to cover up the blue of the beard shadow with something warm but it felt awkward, but the staff where nice and smiley as usual. Then up to Oxford street, meandering around the big Top Shop, great place to pick up on the current looks, from the clothing racks and the customers. But don’t buy there, but do pick up another top in American Apparel and a Cream Puff from Beard Papa plus bubble bath from Superdrug and wine from Sainsbury’s and its back on the bus home.

Boring yes, but strangely normal and natural, felt good in the sunshine. Plain looks must of helped, can’t remember getting a comment all day, even the funny looks where few, but then again it was the West End, Trannying in easy mode, but that was the whole weekend really.

Saturday, not going to visit my new nephew, why, well I’ve got a cold, and it’s not good to be around newborns with a cold. But actually its not very bad, not very bad at all, probably could of gone, but well, didn’t want to, I exaggerated a bit to put my family off and rearranged to go in a couple of weeks. Feel it’s my duty to go visit, but it’s just that, duty, small talk with family, say he looks lovely, take a picture, come home. Guess I’m just not maternal, newborns just seem to mostly just eat, sleep, shit and cry, they might have a smiley gurgle every now but that’s about it. Don’t even think they look very nice. Just haven’t got the standard female reaction to little ones

So Saturday, Helena day then But I’m on call (having to do it now as I got out of it previous weekend), so not going far, just a little light shopping. Do have a few things to get anyway, Magic Theatre next week and I just haven’t got the right shoes, got the top, skirt, belt, bag, a fascinator and a cigarette holder and chocolate cigs to go in it (I don’t smoke, ever, but chocolate is one vice I can endorse), the outfit s bit retro glam, but needed shoes, ones that fit, ones I can dance in and ones that won’t try to kill me. Decide Doreen’s would be the best place to go, have to go large.

Getting ready, Oh bugger, face had come out in a lump, trapped hair probably, dam, dam dam, I look like a fucking mutant. Try to hide it with slap and hair, but see it at the wrong angle and its scary dress, two part set of a (yet another) black polo and a grey off the shoulder top, with shorts, tights and killer boots. The clothes looks good (not me) I think, bit OTT for shopping perhaps, and those boots, fashion over function, I know I will regret wearing them later. I’ve seen the layering of a polo with off the shoulder and V neck tops in a few shops just recently, definitely a trend I can follow. Hair needs a wash, break strappy thing that holds the turn ups up on shorts, do temporary repair with duct tape.

Photos take time as I try to not look hideous, still not great. That lump better go down by next week.

Walk over to the bus stop for Leyton, it’s a fair step and the boots are already a bad idea. A nearly 4″ heel is uncomfortable and forces me to walk quite deliberately plus I feel self conscious, a combo of a bad face and silly outfit, and duck my head and try to hide behind hat and hair. Shouldn’t do this, it actually seems to have the opposite affect and gets me noticed even more.

Bus to Leyton uneventful, but hear a couple of “That’s got to be a bloke” type comments as I walk to the shop  Even Doreen’s are a little less complimentary than usual and usher me in to the changing room at the end with a proper door to try on the shoes. They do have shoes, basic black patent courts with a 3 inch heel (feels lower actually)  trouble is I seem to need a 9.5 wide, settle with a ten, but I’ll need to pack the heel end out a bit to stop them falling off, hope they work out OK. 

Leaving the shop with my purchase someone shouts “Oi Geezer”  3 times in my direction, pretty sure they where intended for me, but don’t look, ignore, keep walking, duck into Peacocks. Normally this area’s OK, I guess I’m just a bit more obvious than usual, or this guy wasn’t local.

Carry on to the Walthamstow shopping centre, to get some heel grips for the shoes and have a look around. No more comments are forth coming, but I’m not exactly unnoticed. Tour of the usual shops results in a few well maybe, but nothing demands to be bought. Well apart from a fake fur gilet in New Look had spotted it during the week in another branch but wanted to buy in Helena mode so I could try it on. Get my heel grips and stuff the boots to. Woman on the counter is Madam this, Madam that to the girl in front of me, but to me, she’s polite enough, but all gender references disappear.

Tube ain’t running, more engineering work, but the replacement bus back home turns up promptly. Sun has come out. Change buses at Finsbury park to Islington, they are pretty busy today with the tube out. Well past lunch time by now, so pop into the local Slug and Lettuce for a change for lunch. Find they have a nice airy area upstairs, big sofas and stuff, and not very busy, have worthy small salad, and not so worthy bowl of chips. All quite pleasant really, nice food, a glass of Chardonnay, sunshine, a leather sofa and a book to keep me company.

Got me shoes and gilet, just grab some food for Sunday and home I guess, totter over to M&S, stop in Next on the way for a look see. A cute black patent bag stands out, good for the outfit, but much bigger than the one I had planned to use, big enough to get big camera in even, sold. M&S, not my usual supermarket, but they are doing that meal for 2 for £10 (inc wine),  have no one to share it with (sob sob), but I can stretch it out over 2 meals (or just be greedy and scoff the lot in one sitting). Good value, but the choice left was a bit limited (islingtonites had been stripping the shelves) , get there early when this offer is on. Get another “That’s got to be a man” type muttering as I leave. I guess the reactions I got today where questioning, no one seemed absolutely sure, guess that’s better than nothing. Must stop wearing stupid footwear when shopping though. Must also stop moaning about self inflicted foot pain in this blog.

There’s the bus home, don’t have to wait, but its packed, no seats, and I’m wayed down with shopping and those boots really do hurt by now Shouldn’t be a long trip but more and more get on the bus, and its slow in traffic.

Guy barges on though the buses exit door a few stops from home. Driver spots and him turns the engine off. They have a argument, driver says the bus is full and he shouldn’t of got on. He tries to argue, saying he has to get on as he couldn’t get on the last two buses, but arguing with a bus driver is usually totally futile, they are lords and masters of their own domain with absolute power over the engine. While they argue people just get off  in frustration instead of waiting. This (well the bus isn’t full now) and the fact he actually does have a ticket persuades the driver to start up again. But not before another passenger, one of those that got off the bus, has a go at the arguer, trying to goad him into a fight, his wife urges him not to make a scene. All over a bus ride.

flat is sitting on the step chatting on her mobile and smoking, she moves aside to let me up, but doesn’t seem to recognise me.  In, boots OFF, feet up, wine and the last 3 episode of Doctor Who on DVD Save bought food for Sunday and dash out for chips later on (in comfy boots), DVD is top stuff and work doesn’t call me all weekend, which is nice.

Next week, hopefully more interesting, if this lump on my face doesn’t mutate into a hostile entity and devour me (50/50 chance I reckon).

Shitty week at work, far to much to do, and to little time to do it in, fix one thing, 2 more pop up, and they call me at 4am on Friday morning after 10 hour day on Thursday Just had to buy my self some new shoes and boots to make me feel better

Saturday, weather looks too variable, ditch the skirt idea I had and go with jeans, white leather(ish) jacket from Oxford and the new boots. Jean, too tight, zip doesn’t always hold definitely gained weight, last week didn’t help not enough time to do enough walking and to much just grabbing junk food at the station it’s a battle I’m loosing at the moment. Also my face had flared up, nasty urgg bit on the corner of my lip, try to cover up with makeup as best as possible.

So shitty weather and looking shitty, what else went wrong? Well the muffins baked on Friday night didn’t work so well, to much water in the icing made it to runny and they just didn’t taste of much. Tried to bake some brownies as an alternative but left then in the oven a few minutes to long, and they got a bit overdone. Not a great start to the day was it. Managed not to mess up making my sandwiches, but sarnies are hard to do wrong, even for me.

Out by 12 something, well tis not raining. New boots, always a bad decision to wear out but hey they went with the outfit, these aren’t too painful, but their heels a bit smaller and higher than usual, need to walk slower and more deliberately than normal. Tube it to South Ken.

First call of the day was Picnic for change 2008 in Hyde park, same as last year. Rain started as I left the tunnel from the tube station But with a leather(ish) jacket, a hat and a syrup I didn’t really feel it.

Get to the park (slowly) and find Nelly and Co from Roses under a tree, different tree, we move (heels, wet grass not a good combo) over to the picnic tree, where a small group had already gathered. Organiser said he was going to see if they could open up the pavilion at the Serpentine Gallery for us, but while we waited for that we set up under the tree. Big old thing with a canopy that reached the ground, it worked like a green tent and kept the rain off. Wasn’t to bad really, and the rain stopped later anyway.

Didn’t know most people but a few faces from Roses turned up, Nelly as I said, Julliette, Maryln, Lexy and Linda. Ate the sarnies, drank the wine, passed around my muffins and brownies, people said they where nice, people are too polite. The pavilion didn’t get opened in the end, but it was fine under the tree. Crowd down on last year though, weather scared them off I guess.

Manged to find Stephanie later and shared my 2nd bottle of wine with her. Remembered more wine less food this time (change from the Spectrum picnic), but less people wanted to share so ended up with a bottle and a half in me (well I wasn’t carrying it home slightly wobbly I was. Took a few more pics, and Stephanie did the honours pointing the camera at me.

Only later did I found out I had set the shutter speed way to high, so the camera bumped up the ISO a lot to compensate, so the pics came out rather noisy, managed to hide most of it in post, but the pics aren’t as good as they could have been. Wine plus fancy camera plus idiot is another combination that doesn’t work.

Left, wobbly, at around 4 something, nice to meet you all and chat, Stephanie did you get to your Prom? And even with the weather it was a nice afternoon, be back next year, though I must make an attempt to socialise a bit more with new people.

Flop into seat on tube, must have been a bit dozy, opened eyes and I was at Finsbury Park, opps, past my stop. Get out, and fortunately there’s a bus outside that will take me right home, result, even less walking to do.

Back home, clean up and touch up face, it’s not good. Change clothes for the evening, now the rains stopped a skirt I think, change into a tiny little black one high waist one, very tight, bit too tight actually, try to pull it down a bit and rip a pocket on the back ok rethink, find tan leather(ish) one from Peacocks I got a few weeks ago, it hasn’t been out before, seems to work, fit is generous too. Change into different boots, matching jacket and tights to go with. Ladder tights putting them on to, fortunately they came in a pack of two. On reflection those tights where a bit too thin, should of gone with more opaque ones, for looks and warmth.

Change lens on camera (using big one), use the nifty fifty f1.8, as it’s fast and really small, so I can pack the whole thing it in my handbag. But after all that faffing about there’s no time for pictures if I want to make it to Blackfriars for 7:45.

Walk to tube, different skirt and boots gives far more freedom of movement (skirt is a 12 but it fits like a 14), that’s better can strut a bit Tube to Embankment, but have enough time, so decide to walk the rest of the way along the river, with the rain gone and the clouds clearing up, its rather nice. Clears my head a bit. Get some photo’s in the evening light.

Find the pier. The event for the evening is the Roses Boat Trip 2008, hadn’t got a ticket, but they said it was OK to pay on the door (gang plank?) Spot a group of familiar faces waiting, looks like I have the right place. Can’t see a boat though. Crowd gathers, more familiar faces and the boat turns up too, buy my ticket and away we go.

Boat was pretty full by my reckonings, full enough to make finding a seat difficult, turns out about 160 people made it in the end, weather didn’t scare them off for this one, but then again the boat did have a roof. It also had two floors, downstairs was a bar, seats and tables, the upper deck had another bar, a little disco area, some more seats and an open “Sun” deck, but the sun had gone down by now, night deck? Anyway, this is where I spent most of the night. I was in the open most of the night because I don’t really travel well on boats, in fact I don’ ttravel well full stop on things that can change direction quickly, like boats, planes and even cars. Bikes are fine they move right, and trains don’t make sharp turn or worse go up and down like boats and planes. The only counter to this is to be outside, or a least glued to a window where I can see the horizon (or talking motion sickness pills, should of thought of that). Most of the time it was OK, the river was calm, but the fast Thames Clippers that passed us create quite a bit of wake which rocked the boat a bit to much for my liking.

Did manage to see and talk to a number of people, Louise, Lisa and her Sister, Laura, Chrissy, Claire, Lexy (again ;), hope you are OK love) , Phillipa, Christina, Jenny and many other I’m to stupid to remember their names. Though was a wallflower most of the night, but the view outside was nice, the Thames is really well lit up at night, didn’t know that and the views are cool. Took pictures of course, I like night scenes, but the shutter speed was to low, ISO to high and aperture to far open for sharpness though, but on the darkness it was the only way I could get pics.

Since this was a tranny night camera’s were out in force, inc mine. Plenty of people seemed willing to pose for their picture (and Laura did the honours taking mine) .

Tried to get more candid’s and silhouettes than the usual posed pics with the flash, to get a slice of life look, hope no one minds. Also tried much shorter depth of field than usual, for the effect and to get more light into the camera.

There was a proper photog on the boat though, Julie she had a bigger camera than me boo hoo I would like to see her shots.

We went up river first, almost as far as Hammersmith, past all the Tourist highlights like the Houses of Parliament (I didn’t know London bridge lit up red at night), then turned around and went up to Greenwich, Cannery Warf is pretty spectacular at night and the dome isn’t bad either. Pity we didn’t go as far as the Thames barrier though, would of loved to see that (puts a trip to the barrier on the things to do list).

But after we turned around at Greenwich it was starting get to me, was a bit cold and motion sickness was being felt a bit, trip was about an hour to long if you asked me. Didn’t want to dance either, even though the dance floor was quite well populated by this time, just didn’t feel with it, music wasn’t great though, to many camp classics. Didn’t even want a drink, Diet Coke all night, well all that wine earlier didn’t help.

We docked again around 1. Really wanted off the boat by now. Wasn’t a bad trip really though, honest, I’m just winging. Looks like it will be on again in 2010, if I go again must remember not to drink before hand, take motion sickness tablets and wear thicker tights.

So I was in Blackfrairs at 1 am, tube had stopped by now. How to get home? A number of the boat party where carrying on to the Way-Out club, but I didn’t feel like it, wanted home instead, Bus? But where from, don’t know this area, but see a sign to St Pauls, ah know the way back from there. So walk up to St Pauls, and then the Barbican, streets are pretty empty and well lit, feels safe enough. There is a bus from here that will take me home, but it’s not a night bus so must of stopped running by now, so I don’t wait at the stop. One passes me later

Continue walking to Angel, rain started again, but ah, open Chicken shop, I’m hungry, chips See own reflection a mirror in the takeaway, hair had frizzed, makeup was flaking off, lip just looked nasty, was basically a total mess. No one commented, (well a couple of pissed sounding lads in a Rickshaw might a shouted “Tits out for the lads” a bit ealier). In fact I don’t remember being commented on or even looked at much all day. But then again I was in the company of trans folk most of the day.

Eat chips, pass another bus stop, oh, a night bus that will take me home, jump on.

On Sunday I heard my other brother’s wife had just had their first child, a boy, 8 pounds 4 ounces, mother and baby are doing well. It’s likely next weekend I will go and visit, that plus work means Helena time might not happen but the weekend after its that Magic Theatre again

No hurry on Saturday, even stay slobbing it in Ian mode for a hour or three tidying up and taking the recycling out etc. Why, well, evening out planned in a nice outfit and I didn’t want to spoil it. Check mail, WTF, 100’s of messages on a old account I rarely use anymore, and they keep flooding in. Looks like a spammer had used my email address on the header of email bomb selling fake Rolexes, git. And what I was getting is the 1000’s of bounces from spam filters and mail daemons sent back to me had to set up 20 odd rules to force the mail to trash to stop my mailbox from being flooded.

<rant>
Spam is just so pointless, you might get through to one or two people gullible enough to buy the crummy product, but piss off tens of thousands in the process, and why do they try to evade spam filters, putting \/1AgrA etc in the subject lines etc? Anyone who has one of these set up a filter has absolutely no intention of ever buying something from one, so why try to fight it? Mind boggles
</rant>
 

Try and create a fancy lighting setup before I change, use SB600’s as edge lights, but use bits of black card velcroed to them to stop them from illuminating the background and use the SB800 with a ceiling bounce as fill illumination. Think I have it all planned.

Change, all black satin outfit, well satin like polyester anyway, posh night at the theatre is planned so try to make an effort. Face is nasty and lumpy and this doesn’t help the makeup Make the mistake of putting a tape measure around my waist, owww 31″ it was 29 and a half a few months ago, bugger, must be more serious about the diet and start doing sit ups again.

But am ready eventually, go back to the lights and the camera, and oh, it doesn’t work, face needs way more light, need to nuke it with soft light to hide the imperfections, SB800 is popped in a softbox (a new collapsible Lastolite one designed for speedlights, quite cool) moved to just off my face to provides enough light. Eventually get a workable picture.

But only just, big camera’s battery dies just after. Take other picture with little camera in full sunlight and wide aperture as it can’t trigger the flashes. Well it probably can but I haven’t figured out exactly how yet. Well that’s enough wittering on about cameras, oh but did you see that new D90, it’s got video and a 12mp CMOS sens… Shut up!

It’s 4 before I leave the house, outfit and shoes really isn’t suited to shopping etc anyway. Especially the shoes, made the usual mistake, new shoes, never worn outside the flat before, thought they where OK, but on the pavement they are flopping about and crushing my toes a bit After a bus ride to Soho, first call is Superdrug for heel grips. I’m always doing this, perhaps I should just keep a stock of gel pads and heel grips in my handbag. Fit the grips and adjust the straps in a little bar/restaurant on Old Compton Street, then while away a some time with a glass of wine and the last couple of chapters of a book. Forget its name but the staff where friendly and it was curiously quiet, the rest of Soho appeared to be packed on this sunny (wot in August!) afternoon.

Was meeting up with Clarissa at five thirty in front of the Palace theatre, plan was to have dinner, then go back to the theatre to meet with Becky and Jane and go see Spamalot. It was a slightly delayed night out to celebrate Clarissa’s 30th birthday. Have to wait a bit, hate hanging around, you get noticed, I do get the usual looks, one group did pass whispering “Is that a transvestite?”. Also a couple of teenage girls approached, but they only asked if I knew where Urban Outfitters was, “Over there in Covent Garden I think” I replied, pointing and they wandered off, phew. Clarrisa turns up, don’t recognise her for a moment, no glasses. We move off into Soho in search of a restaurant for a Pre Theatre dinner. We find Bertorelli’s a big and fairly stylish Italian and have wine, pasta and pizza and force ourselves to have desert and cheese as well. Not a bad meal, would go back, sauce on my pasta was lovely and had to get extra bread to mop it all up. What was I saying about diet and waistline again?

Back to the theatre for seven thirtyish to meet Becky and Jane. Actually it wasn’t Becky as such, but Simon, if you have been reading Becky’s blog recently you will realise why. They had driven in all the way from Kings Lynn!! and parked in Central London (a feat in itself), phew, impressed. I should remember how lucky I am able to just be able to get a bus from the end of my road to places like this.

Into the theatre, and climb up, our seats are up in one of the circles, slight twinge of vertigo and we settle in, don’t have long to wait. Snatch a few photo’s before I’m told there’s no photography allowed (oops me bad, but I was only shooting the theatre itself, not the production)

Then it’s on with the show. Actually this was the first stage musical I’ve ever seen, different, would have been nice to be closer to the stage perhaps. Have seen the film of course, but the musical does vary quite a bit and adds in a Lady of the Lake character (great voice, great cleavage) and makes several excuses to put scantily clad chorus girls on the stage (not that I object ) . King Arthur is played by Sanjeev Bhaskar, best known I guess for Goodness Gracious Me and Meet the Kumars, he does a good job and adds a few lines of his own. The show seems to be a bit of a mickey take of musicals as well, but some of that goes a bit past me.

Glass of wine in the interval (thanks Jane and Becky) and its back to Act II. Couple sitting next to me move away, “It wasn’t you, it was that man’s head in front of us” they say. The 2nd act moves it along, with the famous black night, the killer rabbit and the Knights who say Ni before adding a big ending (the original film just sort of peters out) with a sing a long to “Always look on the bright side of life”. Good show, fun, bit pricey for every weekend, but I might make it to another show one of these days.

Say bye to Becky and Jane afterwards, they are went to find some dinner. Walk with Clarissa back to the tube station.

West End is packed, even at gone ten. Walking thorugh the crowds my shoe heel gets caught in a grating on and it comes off. Have to pull it out, dam the straps on the shoes are broken. Later inspection shows them to be a write off, well they where only Price Less plastic rubbish and they didn’t fit so well anyway. Say good by to Clarissa at the tube station, cya around hun, don’t be a stranger.

Walking back to the bus stop theres a big crowd outside the Astoria, a young man stares at me and exclaims “What The Fuck” . Well kid if you can’t handle Soho on a Saturday night, go back to the suburbs. As per usual, grab some shopping at the Sainsbury’s local and bus home.

Sunday, face doesn’t seem too bad, still have a lot of eyeliner on. Saw a recommendation of Urban Decay eyeliner on a forum, they commended it for its staying power, well I have to agree, but if I’m doing boy Sunday, well I’m in guyliner. Plus I still have cherry nail varnish on, albeit rather chipped So lets not do boy, another Helena day, well I didn’t get my normal mooch around the shops on Saturday and haven’t got much else better to do. Drag blade across face, fortunately there’s not a lot to remove and play with a few outfits, some fun ones that have to be filed under “not for daylight”, end up with a more modest and casual urban camo mini, opaque’s, greeny polo neck different green denim jacket, black hat and furry boots, all a bit miss matched, but sometime a “just thrown together” outfit blends in better than a perfectly matched one.

Saturdays sunshine has gone away and its raining, out fit should be OK for that Minimal makeup seems to work well enough, and then pictures. Er no, remember big camera was out of juice, oh well, even more pictures of me aren’t a necessity.

Bus into Angel, little trip around the market and shops. Get a new book in Waterstones, had a gift voucher to spend, you see I gave Clarissa a book for her birthday, but just in case it was one she had already read the one I bought, I had the gift voucher (card actually) as a backup. She hadn’t read the book, so that left me with a voucher to spend

Also end up with a new bag from a stall on the market, leather one, looks well made, but quite big and slightly boxy and androgynous (so Ian can carry it as a manbag as well), big enough to fit my tiny laptop and in a pinch the DSLR as well, nice. Had eaten a bit at home, so skip lunch and go to the pictures. One advantage of having a big bag is that it makes it easier to smuggle food and pop into the cinema

Film was Bablyon A.D. based on a bande dessinée called Bablyon babies, another unplanned choice, but was in the mood for a cheesy Sci Fi actioner. And chessy it was, not really worth a cinema ticket, leave it for DVD, rental, when you have already seen all the really good films, twice.

What next? Could do some more shopping, but nah that can wait till another day and wander towards home, have a new book and plenty of cheesy Sci Fi DVDs to watch, sun keeps poking its head through the clouds also, when it does, I find this outfit is a bit to warm.

But stop off in Albert and Pearl, that trendy bar in Islington I mentioned before (well its nice and mostly empty this early in the afternoon), well I have a book, so settle down into a sofa with a glass of wine and the first few chapters. The book is The Night Sessions by Ken MacLeod and its starts very well, including, of all things, a scene in a club with a Tranny in Gothic Lolita drag, hrrrmmmm where have I seen that before, oh yes, me in the Rivoli this February But given the book must be set at least 20-50 years in the future (can’t recall if a date is mentioned) the Gothic Lolita look must be a retro/revival thing in that setting, or perhaps it’s just slow getting to Scotland

Read a couple of chapters then go upstairs, to use the loo, but have a nosy around the upstairs bar as well. Find since its totally deserted upstairs and rather well decorated in a pseudo Victorian style with little tables and shelves to put the camera on, we have a photo opportunity, get my pic of the day.

Nice bar that, but I feel a little old and untrendy there though, not sure I would fit in with the evening crowd.

Back home, via Budgens, for more wine

Next week there’s the picnic for change in Hyde Park, cya there if you are coming. Also my support rota’s been shifted around so I now have that weekend free, perhaps I should see a Rose about a boat?