Last night was time for Chameleons, and while I’ve managed to remove all traces of my rather nice, silver nail polish. I’ve not done such a good job, shifting the bike oil. Luckily, I’m not a closet bicycle repairman, I’m not sure I could handle the stress. Hiding your overalls, making sure your fingers are free from oil and being able to walk by a tool rack, without looking wistful….. Okay, that’s enough with that silliness. 🙂
On Wednesday, I was both unpacking and repacking my night out bag. Time had run away with me and while I’d remembered to hang up my wig, the rest of last time’s items, were still carefully folded up. There I knelt, looking at a few key items and then I had one of those little moments. You may, or may not, have had one. The shoulders drop a little, you let out a sigh and ask yourself Why am I doing this?
Suspending political correctness for a moment, lets look at some harsh facts. I’m a bloke, a little on the non-thin side, balding and I’m sat pondering what women’s clothes, I’ll be wearing, in a community centre, for all of three to four hours. When doubts like that creep in, I guess I can see why some people, may be a little baffled by why we trans folk, do what we do. Hell, I still can’t explain it.
When things like this happen, I push the negative thoughts aside, finish what I’m doing and then go have a cup of tea. Yes, I am British: so sue me 🙂 I’m sure there would be less trouble in the world, if we could all take a moment, have a brew and think things through a little more. Not, that that has helped the English, we seem to have invaded, or been a war with most countries on the globe. 🙂
Doubts aside, I made my way up to Nuthall and bumped into Pat and Kim, in the upstairs changing room. Despite an issue free chest strimming at the start of the week, my body decided to save up a break-out for Thursday morning. Yeah, thanks immune system. You still narky there’s pollen about? 🙂 To top is off, my love of pies and lack of exercise – more on that later – has meant that a favourite ditzy print dress, is not going to fit Yours Truly, unless I get my (lardy) arse into gear….
[ …which explains the oil marked fingernails. I’ve been repairing my bike, after going for a ride and the chain snapped. Still, I did get a good long walk and I didn’t have to carry my bike home. Small mercies eh? 🙂 ]
Plan B was a floaty top (no, you can see what looks like the Eye of Sauron on my chest) and that didn’t work, so Plan C: mum-nextdoor-shirt, shorts and footless tights…. which, although this felt a bit Last Chance Saloon, I was pleased with. Funny how you have to make do and are then happy with the result. Hobson’s Choice, perhaps? 🙂
I had a good chat with a few of the new visitors and a really long chat with one girl, Vicky, about role-playing games and her background. Sometimes, it’s like that, you just get talking and off the conversation goes. I also sold Kim my old wig, the long brown one that just wasn’t quite working for me. Of course, it looked fab on her – and I’m not saying that for the sale. She seemed happy with it.
After that, it was time to tidy up, then retreat to the stairs for a quick photo or nine (thanks Val!), before locking the place up.
All in all, well worth the faffing about.