Yes, I’m a day later than usual, but I have a good excuse; I was living it up on an Invasion night out. I could have gone with the dog ate my blog blog, but as the hound has her own Blogger account, what’s the chances of that? 🙂
For those of you who’ve still got a turkey to wrap and presents to stuff, I’ve prepared two versions of tonight’s post.
Changing issues. Got fab. Had a truly great night out. Got home. Slept.
Good News from the War on Moping
I’m just happy to be me once again. It’s been great not to be mulling things over, or metaphorically looking over my shoulder for the distant bay of the Black Dog (Ed: Bay of the Black Dog? Sounds like something from Pirates of the Caribbean. ‘Bring me that horizon and some ballet pumps, my feet are killing me’.) Being out from under the cosh, so to speak, I can and do find it easier to think of others. I think it’s that that Mrs J has noticed. I have tried to listen more – to actively listen – rather than have half an ear on what she was saying. I know that is just plain rude and I feel bad for it. It’s not so much that I wasn’t listening…. more that I was distracted by my own thoughts. I’ve heard it said that depression can be a selfish condition and I think it’s easy to take that as a negative. It is, at least speaking personally, not untrue, but not altogether a helpful statement. After all, when you feel down, the last thing you need is a bit more negativity coming your way. 🙂 Still, bygones.
With what seemed like a much happier Jones household – and Xmas pretty much sorted – I checked I was okay to head out with the trans massive to Invasion. It didn’t clash with anything we had planned, the Ever Lovely Mrs J was cool about it, so it was all systems go! Yay. Happy times. Mrs J and I seemed to have reached a new level on our collective acceptance of my requirement for an extended wardrobe. It comes up in general conversation, rather than hushed, hurried tones. We joke about it and we talk openly.
Indeed, that was put to the test this very week. For some reason, I’d left an envelope from Chameleons on my bedside table. It simply said ‘Lynn’ on the front and I got a text about it late afternoon. It wasn’t so much a confrontation as a “is that your weekend name ?:-P” vibe. I didn’t think a text was the right time to explain, so we talked about something else and I addressed it when I got home. Now, I could have said it was for someone else, but it felt wrong to do so, so I didn’t deny it. I felt a bit…. funny? guilty? ill-at-ease?… over the whole thing. I started with, I’ll be honest with you…. Mrs J (bless her) laughed it off with, I sort of expected you to have a girlier name. We had a chuckle about it and neither of us could really get worked up enough to become upset. I think that can only be a good thing! I know a few people have said that how couldn’t she know? Simply, I don’t dress at home and I don’t refer to myself with that name, so it never comes up.
Apocalypse avoided, nippers snuggled and Mrs J kissed goodbye, I headed out to Invasion. The day before, I had the good luck to be working from home. While I waited some some systems to finish patching, I wrapped a few presents and tried on an outfit. Now, I was pretty sure that I wanted to wear my black & white skirt. Sure, it’s shorter than I’d normally go with, but hey, it’s Christmas and it’s very much a going out number. The only question was the top. I didn’t want to do a plain black top. To cut a long story short, I decided on a little black vest (thank you Next Outlet!) and a lacy top I borrowed from Mrs J. Bless her, she offered to lend me a jumper top, but with the puff sleeves, it made my shoulders look huge.
Now, because I can’t change at home, I’ll often nip up to the Centre where we run Chameleons. There’s usually someone in, so it’s not a problem. This time, there was just the local police in (they have an office upstairs), so I was in and getting ready. So far, so good. I’m just putting the last of my industrial strength shapewear on, when there’s a knock at the door. Just about to head out and we need to lock up.
Okay. Don’t panic, Jones! I get my hoodie and jogging trousers back on (Ed: had you gone as a burglar, Lynn? :-P), wish the coppers merry Xmas and wait in the car until they’d gone. Well. Other than driving down the M1 to find a service station to use (no thanks), I made the best of it and finished getting ready in the car. Sure, the arc light and map-lamp in the car were not as good as I’m used to, but you gotta make the best of what you have sometimes. Besides, the tricky part of getting the clothes on was pretty much done. Face, hair and nails done, it was off into town.
The Main Event
Now, I arrived a bit before nine and I thought I was late. I bumped into Rachel first and the place was quiet. More and more folk turned up. I realised I’d left my false eyelash glue in the car, so there went my plan of fixing them. I headed to the loo to fix my mascara. Not wanting to cause offence, I headed into the gents. Yeah, it was a gay pub, but I don’t like to push it. Anyways, as I was stood by the mirror. I notice this chap behind me standing with his trap open looking at me like I’m the first trans person he’s seen. Okay, curiosity. Whatever. I carry on. Eye one done. He’s still looking. Ignore. Eye two. He’s still gawping. Deep breath and face him.
It’s okay, honey. It’s a gay pub. This happens.
He shut his mouth and walks off. The bloke spending a penny behind him was trying so hard not to laugh and we had a chuckle at Mr Stare-o-tron’s expense once he’d gone.
Make-up fixed, it was time to mingle. Sam turned up, then Maddy. I bumped into Jemma and I got to meet Justine for the first time (who is lovely and I still miss her blog). I had a good long chat with her about stuff and after a quick photo opportunity with Jemma and Maddy, we headed to the next pub and finally a club.
Now, the club is more a straight venue than a gay one, but the group haven’t had any trouble and once folk seem to get their heads around the fact that the Invasion massive are just there to dance and have a good time, curiosity fades and we’re left to get on with the important things: like having a good time. 😉
Rather than go with the more up-to-date rave-esq numbers upstairs, on recommendation, we opted for the 80s/90s retro stuff downstairs…. and I’m glad we did. I had a really good time dancing to some old school pop classics. Stuff I wouldn’t have danced to during my teenage metal period. Funny, that I knew all the words to the Whitney Houston numbers though eh? Self denial, it’s an ugly thing 🙂
As we sat down to get our breath, Maddy mentioned something along the lines of this – the situation we were in right now – was beyond her dreams when she was younger. I think I’ve got that right and I’m with her. The idea that I’d be out with friends in Lynn mode and it wouldn’t be a problem, well. Back in the 80s, I would never have believed it would be possible. How things change eh?
Eventually, it was time to head back. So I bid fair well to the rest of the Invaders and made my way down the street to the bottom of the hill. Honestly, a hill in heels after you’ve been discoing it up all night? I think not. 🙂
All in all, a very good night out. I got in about half one and strangely, I’ve not felt to tir….zzzzz 🙂 Ahem. Yes. Right. One last thing to do: to wish you and yours a very merry Christmas and good luck for 2013. Make it glam, make it happen.
Thanks for reading,
[ Today’s lyric: It’s the End of the World by R.E.M ]