Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Tears of joy.


I lay in bed last night unable to stop the tears coursing down my cheeks and neck and seeping into the pillow. These were tears of sadness and joy.

I always knew what I would do if I had internet access and perversely resisted early suggestions that we get hooked up at home, I was fairly content just using it for music and photographs…

I had not a clue about the net when I started but just bungled around tapping in a few search terms and started to learn that I really was far from alone with my lifelong problem and that the world had moved on in the decades since my youth. Lets face it, just reading and watching popular media you would hardly have thought so! It took me a while to discover blogs and felt wrong just reading so signed up to be able to comment and make my voice heard. That was on Livejournal which though it was where I found all the early blogs didn’t really take off for me.

Having an online identity it seemed the obvious thing to do to start and write a blog myself. I say obvious but apart from signing a credit card slip, and they were becoming obsolete, and writing an occasional postcard or shopping list this dyslexic blogger had not written much in half a lifetime! As unpopular as my blog was I did get several followers and the very first changed my whole online experience in ways I never imagined.

She was a fairly experienced old hand online but somehow got in contact with this raw beginner, so much so that she suggested that we chat which neither of us had ever done. Back then it took more manual setting up unlike the automatic systems on every site these days, somehow we muddled through and set it up and got to know each other. We really clicked… With her job she realised that sometimes she would pass near where I lived which was amazing considering that I am at the opposite end of the country and on something of a dead end peninsular, she asked if we could meet up. Plans started to form about finding somewhere half way between her meeting and my home but in the end I said why not just come and stay. Clearly neither of us realised that meeting someone off the internet was supposed to lead to a gruesome death so must be avoided at all costs or conducted like a cold war prisoner exchange with dozens of witnesses in a busy public space. She drove up and it was as if we had known each other all our lives! As it turns out this is much how all my subsequent meetings of net friends has gone…

She stayed over night with us and we have been meeting up once or twice a year ever since to really see how we have changed. Soon after the first meeting she briefly flew out with another net friend to join us on our holiday in the south of France. I can still clearly remember her sitting wistful on the beach wondering how on earth she was going to be able to face going back to face working life in the UK because at that time she was still working as a guy. Everyone who met her on that trip thought that she had been living the role of woman or an age but before boarding that plane outings had been few and far between!

Last night I read her farewell post, the end of our blog life together. She had mentioned her plan to do a final update and fade away for some time so it was hardly a surprise. We have both come so far since our first contact, further than either of us probably seriously thought possible at that time despite our tentative first steps along the way. It has not been all easy going and smooth and prices have had to be made and risks taken.

I guess that many of the tears must be of relief that we both were able to make the crossing and survive. This week being the one where we remember those who have perished along the way. Lisa’s last post has to be read by those still on the path or wary of jumping into the maelstrom of transition for it’s message of hope.



Sunday, 18 November 2012

Autumn leaves.







   


     

While the weather holds I am doing my best to tidy up the garden here at Bramble Cottage. Last year at this time I was already out of action with a toenail removal and was waiting for the second one to be done. Despite using the phenol on them they are so tough they have not been killed off and have just grown out to full length and their twisted selves are driving me crazy. I could be watching the leaves fall with my feet up if my appointments to get them dealt with again had not been changed so often that the girl in-charge of appointments has said that she will not be the one calling if it has to be rescheduled once more! Ten more days to get things sorted.







Things have become a bit wild since this time last year since nothing was done between now and June by which time it started to rain nearly every day! Just a couple of days ago the trees were fairly solid and golden brown then everything decided to drop. Yesterday when I went to put out the compost bin the leaves looked like a marvellous carpet of golden hues, by the time I got out this morning we had a hard frost and gold had mostly given way to soggy browns. Soggy is a god thing if you are wanting them to turn into leaf mold to improve the soil, dry leaves piled up just don’t seem to know how to start rotting down. They say it takes a year to turn to soil but those which fall into the roadside gutter outside the house seem to do it in a week or two!

All good exercise to strengthen and loosen up this stiff old body, leaves are heavier than you would imagine! There is a reason for getting in better shape. That expression is more apt than you might imagine since while my weight is only a few pounds above my pre HRT weight my shape has changed considerably with any fat from old muscles going directly to my waist which needs to waste away as soon as possible. Dusting off the exercise bike for the dark winter days and have started stretching  muscles prior to any exercise, it is so easy to become inflexible…








Now for my incentive. For many many years I used to go away for a week in the spring when two friends had a holiday week free. Initially we would pack our photographic gear and go camping in the chilly April weather, sometimes we would borrow a cabin somewhere in the west but as we got older and softer and one friend moved to a comfortable highland home we would use it as our base. It gave me a chance to show them how to cook! When the highland home gained a full time housewife the trips stuttered to a halt. Whilst chatting about recent trips and my jealousy, (rare for me), of seeing tourists enjoying cycling while I was stuck with the car this year, one of my friend’s wives said that she too would like to have a week cycling holiday next year. I thought that she was thinking aloud and did not pay too much attention but it is booked up already so we are due to be away in May! Time to get fit she said. Never thought that I would get to swop allegiance  to my friend like this but he does not like bikes like we do… Only problem, which bike would I take or should I rent one when I get there, this is going to drive me crazy for a while yet…



I have cheered up the bathroom with an experiment to see if I can overwinter a few pots of flowers. Not tried out the new ambience and the only thing vibrating in there for the past few weeks has been the toothbrush. Talk about low drive!









Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Autumn gloom.



The autumn gloom has set in! Making the evenings longer is a stupid idea but only politicians can change this and we all know how dumb they are… 

The low energy bulbs which have been foisted on us are dreary, if the clock changed the other way the ghastly long evenings could be shorter.

As you may have gathered this is not my favourite time of year, the autumn colours have been better than I had expected after all the strong winds and rain and we have even taken advantage of a couple of bright days to drive into the hills to enjoy them. 

A while ago I think that I had been thinking about sex, you must have just thought how ordinary and that you do that many times each day. This may well be my worst and dullest post ever but once done I never have to think about sex ever again. Sorry but nobody shall be corrupted by this post...

The whole world is driven by the suffix exual. No matter where you place is in society from unemployed to president of some accumulation of disunited states you daily routine will be disrupted at a moments notice when lust grabs you by the genitals. It matters not which flavour of exual you have been dealt out, differentexual, sameexual or eveneitheridon’tcareexual, lust is ticking away in the background assessing those you meet for desirability, availability and compatibility, maybe other ibilities which have not yet occurred to me.

I have restarted reading a lot more recently and books are full of it, same with my cinema visits. Are there no other concerns for the human race? I don’t really get it, never have done. How do you explain a sunset to a blind person? The joyous scent of your flower filled garden,a freshly sharpened pencil or the first summer strawberries to someone without any sense of smell? The interplay of seafood with Muscadet to someone with no sense of taste?

Growing up I was stamped with two labels, both exuals which in the circumstances you have to see as ironic. Tsexual I worked out first, that was plainly my not understanding the process of turning a child into an adult I thought at first and determined to wait and see what happened, adults continuing to think of me as the wrong gender did have me worried though. I had seen butterflies appear from caterpillars almost from birth so dramatic changes did take place after birth, right? 

As I grew older and more children appeared adults would start their controlling of our interactions, what we should and should not play with, who with and how we could not play! Later on came the chiding about who we should now be wanting to play with nudge nudge wink wink… Must be a puberty thing I thought and thankfully that horror was in many ways slow to appear, nature had made a big mistake and really had trapped me in a male body I did not want. At first I thought my very early decision, aged eleven, that I had no place in replication of children department was the reason that I felt no uncontrollable urge to lust after girls. I knew my orientation by the age of three, my “T” problem had nothing to do with that, I really was attracted to girls in a special way but it was nothing like the lust, the almost animalistic slavering lust I saw in the world around me.

I have long wondered if lack of lust is something that can be sensed by others, a negative pheromone warding them away. Long ago I had determined that my life was likely to be a solitary one. The situation was hopeless and absurd, I was a lesbian trapped in a male body, where in a line of desirability would I come? Long after all others had mated up, though how they would ever find each other in such barbaric times I did not know… Perhaps my complete lack of attractiveness to the female of the species was because I did not drool, my eyes did not follow them around like an abandoned puppy. My magnetic attraction mechanism had clearly also failed to be installed before I was commissioned. I was starting to feel like a piece of jigsaw which had been put into the wrong box, there was never going to be a place for me to rest. Darn, I had another of those exuals, I was probably one of the least exual people you will ever meet. I have been defined by two exuals, here I was in a highly sexualised world at a point of apparent sexual freedom and I had non to set free, I had been born Asexual!

Asexuality is not as straight forward as you might think, what in this world is? Naturally there is a spectrum… just because you are not driven does not mean that you would not give someone satisfaction by joining in if the chance came though I can tell you that having an absolute desire to please someone does not always give them absolute satisfaction, we spiral back to the need to be lusted after which must add a little something fiery like adding pepper or to food. Some of us just long for the intimacy of closeness…

When I was repaired just over nine months ago and the sticking out bit was removed, part of it gets repositioned and tucked away to be tickled at your convenience at sometime in the future. At my post-op checkup I was asked if I had found any sensitivity, there followed a moment of confusion before I realised what they meant. See what I mean about asexual!? I had noticed that there was some sensation when washing but had not bothered to go and play with the new bits... I was never a fan of self actuated stimulation, sometimes the damn thing, TDT, would swell up for no reason, waking for example! It could be deflated with little effort but as you know the results are just sticky and smelly and a real mess, there was no pleasure from TDT, quite the opposite since it emphasised the lack of another to engage in what seemed to give the rest of the world so much pleasure and would emphasise the hopelessness of my situation. There is an expression used to describe self actuation as doing it with someone you love the most, well that clearly did not work for me.I do not miss TDT at all, now it is almost impossible to imagine that the growth had been there. 

A friend gave me some cash towards petrol when I helped her move into her new home, quite unnecessary and she knew that the van would breakdown if I put petrol in the tank! I spent the money on a vibrating toy. I do love the person I am now so I thought it was time to try thr new sensations. Clearly a lot of nerve endings are working and there is some pleasure to be had down there though anything spelt with a capital “O” is a long way off. I have even taken to having an occasional bath since the toy is waterproof. Don’t hold your breath for an update, I really need to feel desired to set off my triggers and my mind does not do fantasy, a lifetime of too much reality has seen to that...



Friday, 9 November 2012

Childern...


I was quite young when it first dawned on me that I did not fit in with any of the norms of society and was most likely to spend my life alone. I had no idea how I was ever going to earn a living wage let alone one which would ever be able to feed myself and a cat let alone a child. The idea of bringing a child into this horrendous world was one I had dismissed early on too. The fact that I ever found someone to share my life with still fills me with amazement and thankfully we were in agreement about children. Our sisters and many friends did have children who we gave as much attention as they wanted, though what a joy to hand them back once they become bored or in need of servicing…

Half a lifetime ago Julie’s sister presented me with a little piglet on my birthday, well it looked like a little piglet! We had traveled to France to share in this event and to enjoy a French christmas with a superior choice of food stuffs available in Normandy. No christmas has ever come close even though we were cramped and camping in a dull rented block of apartments. Sophie did not join in our feast of oysters, boudin noir with fried apples, tournedos with artichoke hearts and foie gras, my first celeriac, the list is endless… She loves food now, well she runs front of house at the family restaurant which closed for the season on Monday, all their friends descended for a large party to empty the kitchen of all remaining food on Tuesday and she arrived here in Scotland at midnight last night to await her boyfriend for a three week tour of this cold country.

We drove to Edinburgh to meet her and deliver trip essentials like binoculars, picnic equipment, maps and satnav for when they get their hire car. I have had a vigorous workout keeping up with her as we scoured the town for plug adaptors, camera battery chargers which her brother just forgot to hand over, etc. I guess my time with her gives me some idea of what it might have been like to have had a child of my own though we are more like friends or even siblings and always have been. The “L” word is probably the one I should be using and we have great fun together…

Back at the flat where she is spending a couple of days Sophie rustled up a meal of the fattest cod I have ever eaten cooked to perfection. Guess we have to have something as good waiting when they visit at the end of their trip.

So much for a life alone...