A trip to the 2nd City

Karen and I had a trip to Birmingham, it had to be planned with a little military precision since I was faced with the following :-

* I had to be 'Bob' with a business meeting in the morning (a rare occasion that a meeting was for half-day only);

* I had to take a change of clothes, makeup and all the accessories a girl needs without attracting attention from Bobs work colleagues (all in my briefcase - 'though admittedly briefcase looked a little overweight to say the least);

* I had to find somewhere to do the wonderwoman change-in-a-phonebooth bit, whilst it was mad busy with Christmas shoppers (and I mean really busy!).

The grand plan was to escape Bobs meeting at lunchtime and meet Karen at a suitable lunch venue that is known to have reasonable size toilets. I met Karen ... or at least tried to wave to her to indicate that I'd made it; she was busy trying to text me to say that the venue in question was full. She wondered who the strange character was that was trying to attract her attention across the busy store... she hadn't seen me as Bob before - only a privileged few have had that honour!

10 minute makeover
We quickly agreed to meet again after I had got changed; and rather cheekily I went to use the toilet - well... we would have had lunch there if they could have accommodated us. In 10 minutes flat I got madeup and changed, including a quick shave with a disposable razor I only bought a few minutes previously (note to self: don't bother with disposable razors again - ever!). I packed all Bobs stuff into the briefcase and placed that in a large carrier bag to hide it - should the many work colleagues that are in and around the city recognise it (it's a bit unique to me). The case has a shoulder strap which was a god-send since it weighed quite a bit with Bobs stuff in it (another note to self: take a wheelie case next time - or better still, get changed at home, travel light and make a day of it!).

Then it was out into the shops - but not before we had something to eat. Since the planned establishment was quite full, we went to a small cafe that is tucked away at the back of the Palisades centre - they do a very good all day breakfast (Bob has only ever visited it a couple of times - honest!).

Magical
We did the Bullring, New Street, the Palisades; stopped for coffee a couple of times - for me it did feel a little surreal since it's a place I've always associated with work and shopping only 'between trains'. I watched out for the many work colleagues who were likely to be about but saw none - probably because it was so busy with Christmas shoppers - it was easy to blend in.
But for me the most memorable and magical time was doing the German Christmas Market as it was going dark, with the street Christmas lights and decorations, and the people, the sights and sounds. No one gave us any hassle and the shops were very welcoming ... even when I dropped a couple of glass pendants and they broke on the floor, the shop owner was so nice about it and refused my offer to pay for the damage; she even helped me find some replacements.

And then back to Manchester
We missed a couple of trains - I swear they left early; but eventually we got one that got us back to Manchester for about 8pm. We grabbed something eat in Taurus and then it was home for me on the train... another first for me.

I got to the Oxford Road station just in time to to get 9:45pm train; which turned out to be a two-coach cattle truck which felt like the 'last bus' with the amount of people that were on it. It was the one that stops at every station and was near-packed with just a couple of workaholics having to stand; I decided it might be safest to sit near the front, near the driver and guard - and also as there appeared to be a number youths in the rear coach. As it turned out, no one gave me any hassle - even the lady who was part of 3-couple group who kept glancing at me... sure, when they got off she pointed me out to her friends, but more with doubt and curiosity (although I was glad of the large glass of dutch courage I had in Taurus).

But back home safe and sound (courtesy of Mrs Kate who collected me from the station) , and an end to what turned out to be brilliant day (even including Bobs business meeting in that!).

Help! - I think I'm turning into Imelda Marcos

I just had to buy them... well... actually... more like a wish come true!

I was keeping an ever watchful eye on the stores for some new ankle boots, my favourites are starting to fray at the edges a little. I had seen these in Peacocks on one of my many trips the 2nd Capital, but they never had them in my size. It was starting to look like I would have to order them online - until the other day when I just had to pay them a visit again; and there they were, size 8 and calling out to me!

... of course it gave the girl behind the counter somthing to have a little giggle about when I went to pay!

On another notable point or two from this week :-

• Sunday was my 2nd anniversary of when I came out to Mrs Kate - I spent the day recovering from the 'night-before';
• Today I weighed in at 171 lbs - 3 lbs more to go before I hit my next target. I didn't mention I already past my last target because I got so much stick off she-who-must-remain-nameless when I went on a bit about it; todays weigh-in means I've lost exactly 1.5 stone (21 lbs) since the begining of June.
• Had the worst blisters on my feet ever - all from those flaties (see my last blog entry); about 5 days before they stopped hurting and no sympathy from Mrs Kate. I think I'll stick to killer heels...... we were made for each other!

Revenge of the Flaties

You would think they would be grateful for a release from the wardrobe, but no!... these, my 2nd pair of shoes that I ever bought turned nasty on me, giving me two large blisters and rubbing the skin off one of my little toes. And it was their second outing ever too; the first time out a couple of weeks ago they were Ok but perhaps they didn't take too kindly to being stood on by some girl in Naps whilst we were dancing.

Mind you, I didn't take too kindly to being stood on, it really really hurt. The evidence came out a couple of days later, a big square heel shape bruise on my big toe. And the girl never apologised or anything - I hate that... but Dianas daughter managed to get an elbow in for me!.

But why did these innocent looking shoes bite back?.... well it might be due to the fact that I've had them for a little over 2 years and as they felt all weird and tight I never actually wore them. I've had them in a pair of shoe stretchers for 6 months..... ugh oh!.... that's what it is! they didn't take too kindly to that and got their revenge whilst I was dong some mad dancing with Karen in Naps on Saturday.

But on the upside... Saturday was brilliant! Met Karen early afternoon and did a bit of shopping. Bought a smaller pair of jeans (down to size 14 now!) and a long knitted top - something warm for the winter. I couldn't decide between the green or the blue top; green won out in the end as I have quite a lot of blue in my wardrobe! There weren't any size 16's left, only 14's and 18's. As the top is quite baggy, I thought I would risk a 14.... which as it turned out was a perfect fit. Good job I didn't go for the 18, I might have once been that size and 16 is a safer bet, but since I lost a little weight (Ok I've lost a lot!) I might be more of a straight up-down 14 with a reasonable waistline in the middle now!.


Thanks Karen - I had a brilliant time.

Parachute not included

Having experienced a rather ungodly hour to set off early for a meeting in Birmingham, I just felt I needed to treat myself to a new pair of shoes.

I was actually looking for some red or blue ankle boots to go with my new outfit when these delightful little pair caught my eye. The little silver round thing next to heel in the right of the picture is actually a 20 pence piece; these little babies have 5.5 inch heels!

They were just perfect for the Halloween evening and even allowed me to attempt some participation in the unofficial tallest trannie competition that so often takes place in Naps (sorry no contest, I didn't even make the first round).

Halloween in the Village

Plenty of weird outfits and I distinctly felt under-dressed and 'normal' - or should that be 'different' since 'normal' no longer has a definition and has been sent to it's closet. We were all dressed as 'ourselves' and everyone else was weird for a change... no sorry... this is way too confusing, a bit like trying to describe wierd as normal and as a result of being different, being normal itself becomes ... erm... weird. I'm confused are you confused too? ....

Well, Eden was fairly nice, but we dared to venture into Spirit where the music was just too damn loud (I still couldn't hear properly 24 hours later). I can usually 'do' loud music... but this just gave me a headache; the bass level was just short of brain damage level.

We went to Naps - just Mrs Kate and I (the others promised to follow-on shortly), some where it would be a little quieter and perhaps better music. Music was not brilliant and I did find it a little bizarre standing down stairs talking to a couple of gay guys whilst Duran Durans 'Wild Boys' music video was droning on in the background. Mrs Kate expressed her sentiments and to this end with a 'shall we go home'.... well I wanted to carry on dancing, but the crap music and the dancing zombies was a bit ... well... too weird.

As for the shoes... I surprised myself, I managed the whole evening without any pain (well... ok... perhaps just a tiny, teeny bit).... and the only scary bit was negotiating the sloping pavements over the canal... in those heels it felt like I was about to do an 'Eddie the Eagle' and try out for 'Ski Sunday'!

I love my bathroom scales

These new weighing scales are so much better than the old ones; but much to Mrs Kates disgust they tell the truth - unlike the old ones which could give you any number of different results in an attempt to pacify you. But 'Old Scales' was rather devious too, he was generously giving everyone an extra couple of pounds to carry around.

Had to put 2 extra holes in the belt for my favourite pair of jeans which I wore to the Trafford Centre yesterday; a similar thing happened the other day with a pair of 'Bobs' trousers - down to a 35 inch waist now.

Oh ... well... whatever!

Had a break from the grindstone, Mrs Kate and I had a day out shopping at the Trafford Centre - a sort of ambling lunch and a nice wander around the shops sort of day. Got a nice top from Debenhams, and spied a pair of black satin leggings lurking on the bargain rail in H&M in my (new) size.

But we were so relaxed as we were wandering and chatting together that we both failed to notice in time a neighbour that works at the centre walking towards us; (I think) he initially looked at me and then looked at Mrs Kate, obviously recognising her. He didn't say anything, not even an acknowledging nod towards her, he wouldn't be certain who I was and as likely that is how it will remain..... but rather bizarrely I feel a strange feeling of 'whatever' rather than any worry.

He's a nice sort of guy and he's unlikely to spread any rumour or gossip (we think!) and he lives far enough up the street to not be aware of any further evidence to corroborate any suspicions he might have; but clearly we've had the closest 'shave' ever!

Feeling 'firsty'

Last Wednesday I achieved another first without initially realising it; I just had to have an outing to the Village before I suffocated and as it turned out I was out in the Village with no real plans, and I was Betty no mates. It's a strange feeling, to go out for an evening in the Village without any plans to be with someone or any prior arrangements to meet with any of the 'gang'; I guess the latter were all partied-out from a mass visit to Pink Punters over the previous weekend.

But I occupied myself by initially calling into Taurus to book next months Angels meal, and then to Velvet next door to have something eat and to book the Angels Christmas meal. Service was as always, brilliant and I was really amazed at how my meal arrived within 5 minutes of ordering. Afterwards I dropped by in Concorde and spent some time talking to Tamsin who had only just come out to her partner in the previous couple of weeks (good luck girl!). Astrid and and Mrs Astrid were there too having just returned from the continent, Marrianne, Leanne and a couple of others... but a definite shortage of the usual suspects. But no evening in the Village is complete without a visit to Naps (where else!) where I danced quite happily on my own for a little over an hour before I decided I better walk back to the car whilst I could still feel my feet.

Just had to get petrol.
Having that 'first' reminded me of the last big 'first' I had when Karen came to visit in September. I was on my way to pick her up from the train station when I realised I needed to get petrol for my car - either that or suffer the excruciating embarrassment of running out of petrol. All the possible options flashed through my mind including going back home to disguise myself as 'Bob' - no time to do that as Karens train was due in 5 minutes. So I took the bit between my teeth and called in to my regular petrol station to fill up.

I'd done the fill-the-car-up 'first' before, but that was at a petrol station some where in the middle of Manchester where I supposed they probably got a lot of girls calling in. But this time, it was right on the door-step, the one I use quite regularly. And it wasn't at the best of times; despite it being mid-morning and between rush-hours, it was busy with Highways workers getting sandwiches, mums on the way to the shops, and some oyke who was just simply hanging around by the door. But despite all this, I felt quite calm. I knew going to pay would be the difficult bit. I was still calm even when I walked past the oyke and the Highways workers, they never gave me a second look; no smirk, no pointing fingers, it was brilliant... they hadn't read me.

I thought I was really handling this bit very well, it was only when I tried to get my credit card out of my purse when I realised how my hands were shaking (doh! - don't let me down now!). But the guy behind the till was lovely; of course he read me - I guess I'm passable at a distance but not up close. But despite this he still addressed me with 'do you have a Nectar card, love?'.... 'No, just the receipt will be fine' I said in my softest girly voice (which I amazed even myself here as it's not something I've ever practiced - though can do a reasonable Julian Clary!). And then it was back to the car, even holding the door for another lady; no startled looks, no stares... just passing as another women - simply brilliant!

2 to the power of 177 and falling....

.... the measure of improbability aboard the starship 'Heart of Gold'; or for the uninitiated, from Douglas Adams fabulous book the 'HitchHikers Guide To The Galaxy'. But in this case, my weight approaching the mostly improbable stage of twelve and half stone in only a few weeks of trying; yes I'm at just 2 lbs short of my next target!

Over this last week there's been the release of a study of accident figures involving women on cycles. Of the cycling community, about 72% are men, the rest rather oddly enough are made up by women. But the interesting fact comes out with the number of women cyclists involved in accidents with large articulated lorries; in London, of the 8 fatalities that occurred, 7 were women. The study puts it's findings down to that women don't take as many risks as men, effectively women won't go to the front of the traffic queue at traffic lights where a lorry can see them; opting for the mistaken safety of the space between the kerb and the side of the lorry - so when the lorry turns left.... it just doesn't bear thinking about. The full article can be seen here http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/8296971.stm

I finally had my own face-to-face exchange of words with 'white van man' the other day; it had to happen, it was only a matter of time with cycling to and from work so often. I was quite civil, I didn't swear, I just suggested he should 'WAKEY WAKEY'! as he attempted to run me over from a side road I was passing to my left (he actually didn't look). But he didn't take too kindly to what was clearly a good piece of advice, because exactly like the logic of the Great Bugblatter Beast of Traal which spends most of it's life with it's head in the sand in the belief that 'if you can't see it, it can't see you' he simply abused me. So after that, I made Blind Pugh proud and left him the mark of the black spot right on the bonnet of his van - another one to add to the growing list.

Stay safe out there girls!

Oh eckie-thump!

I've just checked the NHS website for what my ideal weight should be; they say 11 stone! (158 lbs). Now that's what I call a target! And is this realistic and achievable? - by me? .... yeah, right! ... and probably the day after Lucifer skates to work!

Lucky 13 (for a change)

I did it! I did it! I did it!

I've reached (below) my target weight of 13 stone (182 lbs). I was rather surprised to find myself to be exactly 13 stone on 3 consecutive days in the run-up to, and over the weekend. Today, I weighed in at 12 stone, 13 and 3/8 pounds (181.375 lbs) which means it's still on the way down... yay! (check out the picture - taken 4 days ago).

But was this a realistic target,?... was it too easy?.... are you kidding!!!! only last week I was getting disheartened at the lack of any real progress and suddenly (woof!) it started dropping off again as I smashed through the imaginary wall. A little over 12 months ago, I was at 14.5 stone (beached whale); now I've reached my first target. Back then I sometimes couldn't sleep 'cos I felt so uncomfortable (big fat tummy!), and I was getting out of breath just walking up stairs. And hot days.... better that we don't go there!.

But back to 'if this is a real target'... hmmm yes! I think quite often we set ourselves something that is quite unrealistic to achieve in what we want to do. Sure, it's good to have dreams, but we must have a plan that is realistically achievable with milestones that give us those little wins to keep us amused and satisfied that we're making progress. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day....

So what IS my actual target; well, as a dream... to get beyond my recommended best... something to do with being the right-weight-for-my-height sort of thing. Casting my mind back to when that was last described to me ... I would just love to be better than 12 stone... but I know that isn't achievable in one go so my next target is 12.5 (175 lbs). As long as it keeps going the way it has over the last week, I'm certain I'll make it, but still with one eye on the real trophy - 12 stone or less!

There's only one drawback with losing weight though, I'll need a new wardrobe - I only discovered on Friday that my favourite white jeans needed an extra hole in the belt ... much to Mrs Kates disgust!.

Blogs like buses...

... nothing for ages and two come all at once.

I've been trying to lose weight; there was some promising activity during the initial stage of my 'market research' but I've since kind of hit a wall - I can't seem to make it below 13 stone, with my weight sort of moving up and down by a couple of pounds around the 13.25 mark.

I'm trying really hard not to snack or have such indulgences whilst out (although I do have a weakness for chocolate Salvas in Velvet!); I've even been sticking to 'just soup' for lunch in the works canteen. So I've tried cycling to work for the last couple of weeks; an impressive 'round trip of about 15 miles, come rain or shine.

Apparently I seem to be gaining weight in leg-muscle whilst losing a little off my waist. Net result - no change!

But let me tell you about the lunatics us cyclists have to endure...

Drivers that don't give you enough room - especially 'white van man', one of whom got 'the' bang on the side of his van as a result - getting one of those off a cyclist means you're marked for life; a black spot that Blind Pugh would be proud of.

Taxi drivers who get offered guidance about perhaps signaling left before coming to a stop in front of you; that one is also associated with 'I-can-just-overtake-you-and-turn-left driver' who often receives very exceptional guidance from a cyclist.... I really live for those (NOT!).

Some dog owners don't escape special advice - especially those that like 'Rover' to have the freedom of running around the designated cycleway... I'm quite pleasant in that I ask them to 'Please put it on a lead' as Rover tries to feast on my rear wheel.

But my all time favourite is 'Mum on a mission'; she really couldn't give a flying fig about other road users let alone cyclists. 'Mum on a mission' can often be found outside schools, blocking other road users whilst they're dropping off little dorrit, opening doors in front of cyclists, pulling off without signaling whilst you're passing them.... and the list goes on; suffice to say they're worse than 'white van man'.

Ok I'll stop now... grumpy old woman mode off.

Psychology of the Quiet Coach

Off the T-girl topic for a change and doing the grumpy old woman bit... prompted by Janes recent posting about train seat chivalry, it reminded me of some of those situations I so often see on trains; or to be precise, from the comfort of my reserved seat in the quiet coach - well... nearly my seat.

Quite often, by the time the intercity service reaches our humble town, most of the quiet coach seats are occupied, - but not quite enough to oust the lout, or usurp the business man from yours.... but you can tell these folk are quite practised at giving out the hidden psychological messages of 'bog off and don't hassle me' when they occupy your reserved seat.

Like for example, there's 'sleeping guy', who occupies the unreserved seat next to yours but thinks his brief case has it's own busy life to lead and cares for it by giving it your seat. This is especially annoying when your seat is the only reserved seat in the coach, and apart from 'sleeping guy' the coach is empty.

Then there's 'railway worker guys' who have a medical need to sit next to each other and discuss how well United faired in the previous evenings match - and yes, you guessed it, they occupy your seat.

And there's proffesional dude and dudess who travel the same route every day; they really don't care where they plant themselves 'cos they're only going to the next stop so it doesn't matter if they occupy someones seat.

Ladies don't get away without an observation from Ms Kate - in the quiet coach, they are the absolute the worst for using the phone... they're also the ones mostly likely to shout, if someone else uses a phone! On a recent journey, a girl got on for the last 20 minutes of the service and she managed to make 7 phone calls - I was impressed... normally us girls can only make one call in that time; perhaps she was 'business dude' in drag....

But if you're sat in my seat on the 16:20 out of Birmingham, you take your life into your hands.... unless you're a lovely old lady from Falmouth in which case I'll sit in the seat next to you, have a nice chat about gardening and treat you to tea and cake!

Boring

Mrs Kate has accused me of having a boring blog - so what do I care?

Alcohol-free wine what's that all about?.... now that's boring - but Mrs Kate thought it would be nice to try.... yuck! - trust me, give it a wide berth unless you like flavoured grape juice. I told her that it would taste like that before we tried it.... gee... was I right! It's labelled and looks like it's real counterpart, but .... I can't quite put my finger on whats missing?... no happy feeling... no compulsion to do some mad girlie dancing around the house... totally pointless!

Here's another one.... directions to the RNIB conference centre in Birmingham that a blind person can follow; I had to rely on looking up the address on Google maps so I could find it.

Not boring was meeting up with Kay Denise a couple of weeks ago, it was nice to see her out.

Not boring was getting out with Mrs Kate and Di at one of our favourite establishments in the Village, followed by some attempt at mad dancing at Naps. 'Boring' was the 'da management' letting in just about anyone to just moomin-troll around the dance floor - we gave up after only a few minutes.

Actually my blog IS boring... I'm just bored writing anything on it at the moment - it's good job life isn't like that!

Dear Diary

Dear Diary, why do you look so neglected? could it be I've haven't posted anything to you for over a month now....

Quite often I find myself thinking about some of the little gems of our T-life as I stare out of the commuter train window that occassionally takes me to far away exotic places like Birmingham; only to forget about them when the opportunity arises to post them on here.

Life is far from boring and the pressures of work are just the same as they were over Winter when I was quite depressed about them, but I just feel I'm coping better with those; but I've already seen some of the questions on the company stress survey due out in the next week or so - I have a feeling my matter-of-fact responses to those will only set the alarm bells ringing. But I'm resolved with a determination that I won't ever 'come out' to any of my work colleagues; sensitive as we often are to picking up on any small references to the LGBT world, there are one or two in the team that I feel will be uncomfortable .... not to mention the issues of whether the masses in the organisation would ever take me seriously again!

My closest of friends and Mrs Kate know of personal thoughts on my T-self; for everyone else it's simpler to say that I think I've found most of the pieces of the big picture that represents my life and life is pretty full, relaxed and good - although I am a little dissappointed that I hardly have the time (or perhaps the patience) to get around everyone elses blogs - sorry girls!

So what have we been upto? - I also find a little dissappointment in that we haven't been getting out as much this year, although a trip out on a recent Saturday evening made me chuckle a bit when we were kind of refused entry to a 'girls only' event that was taking place at Eden - translate this to being actually a Lesbian-only event and they were charging the 'non-girls' £3.50 entry - including Mrs Kate. I guess it's the flip-side of the coin where non t-girls are charged entry to get into Naps; so a sort of balance is brought to the Kharma in all things.

And let us not overlook Sparkle.... yeah, another year; sure, I enjoyed it but don't missunderstand me by the fact I'm not writing or raving about it much here; Mrs Kates 5 part blog-essay says it all - I would only contribute to the growing blog-litter that is being posted about it!

Oh okay so here's my small contribution..... seemed like there were more folks there this year but I wore my feet sore dancing in Naps on Friday night (which only confirms Di's observation that when I dance, I really go for it!). Which meant Saturday night my feet were too sore to do any dancing and I was too tired from being out late the night before - which was just as well since it was very crowded where ever we went; so we were back at the Atrium for around midnight. I found I had a flare for giving out leaflets for Teela on Saturday afternoon; and she kindly had t-shirts made for us with our pictures on with the caption 'Teelas Angels' - which was kind of nice.

But there are possibly two mental pictures from the event I doubt I will never forget :-
(1) Saturday evening - the (real) girl with a spikey collar being lead past Naps on a lead who bid us 'evening all' as she passed us by.
(2) 'Those shorts' worn by Emma. Mrs Emma said she'll forward the details of good therapist should we need it!

Some pictures appear to the right of this page, replacing last years. Other than that, take care dear diary, girls and friends alike.

Sparkling in the sun

They say it always rains in Manchester - it's not true; this last weekend was glorious, but it could have rained and it would have been just as brilliant to see Karen again, and be en-femme for 3 days straight. Sparkle is in about 6 weeks, but we had our very own for Karen as she can't make it for the official event.

Just brilliant... I can't put it into words as there are so many thoughts and memories rushing at me all at once... to say the least, I'm all trannied out (well... for a week at least)!

In a torrent of thoughts and emotions, not necessarily in order, the weekend went like this:-

Friday: Wore my nice summery posh frock, met Karen a little later than planned, really hot and nearly melting, had a superb evening with Di and Karen in Taurus, changed for Naps, danced our feet off, got about 4 hours sleep, Saturday: out shopping in city centre, very sunny, took ages queuing for the checkout in Primark, tried the XL white jeans in Amazing - didn't fit me, found a nice pair of white jeans in New Look for a tenner, Di got a superb dress which with the matching shoes she looked stunning, met Mandy so she could use our room to change in, met the girls in View and then the group meal in Villagios, a bloody awful din in Velvet (but I was a bit grumpy anyway), some dancing in Naps but I was way too tired from the night before, Sunday: bumped into Karen and Di after breakfast at Velvet, saw Karen off at the train station (sensed she was sad to leave), walked to Arndale, had ice cream in Piccadilly Gardens, still very hot and sunny, then to Transfixed, cold drink in the bar at The Place on the way back, then back to car park and home for about 4:30pm (phew!).

Oh... and one last point, as you might imagine my feet were very sore after all that; 4 days on and they're still recovering..... no blisters but I feel like I've been walking on glass - but it was all worth it (Note to self: must get pixie boots re-heeled, wonder if I can have my feet re-soled at the same time).

Sans Mascara

On Wednesday I was out without Mrs Kate as she was still suffering the influences of piggin' cold. But a business meeting I had in Birmingham ran a little longer than anticipated and I ended up missing the earlier train back home; the result of this was quite a rushed exercise in throwing ones face on before dashing out to the monthly Northern Angels get-together.

This months gathering was much smaller in number than of recent; just the 6 of us with Emma W, Emma J, Tina, Mandy, Marlene and myself (Tina's t'other half joined us later); but such a small group meant we could share girly stories which is often limited with a large group. On the way over to Villagios, I was leading the way whilst talking to our new girl Marlene; as we crossed over the bridge and turned the corner into Canal St. this guy in approaching us was clearly giving some attention to one of the girls in our group. As he passed Marlene and myself he circled around behind the group focusing his attention on Emma J, who had chosen to wear a rather short skirt - or perhaps it was just a wide belt?. Sensing his attention in Emma might be unwelcome I prepared to intervene, although I didn't quite catch what he said to Emma, his intentions appeared harmless enough and fortunately he didn't follow us into the restaurant

After Villagios we went on to the Manchester Concorde at the Rem, arriving just in time for the raffle. After a quick drink and a chat with Mary and the others it was onto ... Naps - where else!.

On the way over to Naps we were greeted in the street by a couple of girls who rather drunkenly attempted to serenade us - I've no idea what they were cat-a-walling but I'm certain the X-Factor judges would have given the 'urgh-uh' quickly enough. The cat-a-walling gave way to inquisitive calls to 'can we feel your boobs - are they real?' ... I offered as long as I could do the same, but they didn't seem as obliging.

And in Naps.... perhaps it was having drunk so much coke, perhaps it was being allowed out on my own? ... but the music was reasonable for a change and I danced right through until just turned 1am when I/we all went down the basement for a cool-down, a drink, a bit of chat and so on. It was just before 2am when I left; I figured with getting to the car-park a little later than usual that might avoid being stuffed with the full £8 car park charge - wrong!

When I got home, I followed the sad ritual of returning back to 'him', but seemed to have a bit of difficulty in trying to remove the mascara; using the usual makeup remover failed to reveal the familiar black mixed with foundation when a wiped around my eyes - how could this be? ... I checked the mirror, only to realise that in my rush to get out I'd forgotten to put on any mascara.

Fed up!

Tomorrow will be the 10th day since the first signs of this cold appeared; Mrs Kate also came down with it earlier in the week. It's not flu but it might as well be since it's confined us to our bed on at least 2 consecutive days each and any physical effort results in a need to rest for a while.

I was hoping we would be well enough to meet with Emma and Mrs Emma for her first outing to the village this evening; I was so looking forward to seeing that first reaction to a visit to Naps.... well, ... I guess we'll hear all about it in due course!

Beating the stress monster

I've not got around to putting finger to keyboard for the noteworthy events since my last posting - sadly dear reader, mid-April this year has seen the stress monster resurrect itself and it's only been over the last few days I've managed to banish it back to whence it came - well.... almost. It's silly really, there are certain triggers that only occur at this time of year which create irrational feelings of panic; I thought it had gone away but this year it snook up and caught me by surprise. Bad monster!

Events since the last posting

• Met with Heather for her first ever outing in the Village - Ok you might say, helping a new girl out of her closet... well, yes and no; Heather is actually way down her 'lifeplan' but has never actually got to go out. It was good to talk to Heather about all things 'T', her approach so far and how she's still dealing with the 'Bob' side as she hasn't quite reached the point of going fulltime. It was lovely to talk to her.


• Met with Emmas other half. We spent the day, the four of us meandering around the Trafford Centre whilst talking about our 'coming out' experiences; that is to say that both Emma and I were in 'Bob mode' and Mrs Emma was able to talk to Mrs Kate about all manner of areas that any newly introduced partner to the T-world might want to ask about. Mrs Emma seems very supportive but clearly was still dealing with the overwhelming amount of information being presented to her on all sides. For Mrs Kate and I, it was really the first time we've met a partner who's just finding their way; and accordingly we've learned a few things about ourselves, such as curbing the amount of enthusiasm we might show when we spot a nice sparkly top in Dorothy Perkins!


• Teelas Tea - which rather bizarrely (for me anyway!) some of us got to see some of the regulars as Bob as turned back to caterpillar at the end; Tina for me was the biggest surprise in that theres no way I would have recognised her as 'Bob' and is quite stereotypical in her/his daily role (no insult intended!).... but as Tina, what more validation could you have by being challenged to pay the entrance fee at Naps?! (only real girls have to pay to get into Naps).


• We got out to the Village on a few occasions; most notably the Northern Angels meal where Heather had her second outing, Emma (another Emma!) had her first visit since she returned from Spain. Interestingly this particular Emma has also had some 'coming out' revelations of her own with her family (good luck Emma).


• Last night we met up at one of Bevs Saturday get-togethers and most notable was Dianas return into circulation following her recent timeout for some 'adjustments'. Later we went .... Naps (where else!... but not before a visit to Velvet), we met up with Jane who is also looking the part now she's passed the threshold and living the dream. But today, I find that ever so slight sniffle has broken out into a full-on cold - sorry girls if you end up catching that off me (and NO! Mrs Kate! its not Swine Flu!).

Take care girls xxx

A tale of two cities

Manchester and Liverpool, and thanks to Mrs Kate for the title who actually borrowed it from a certain distinguished gentleman who published the first installment of his tale nearly 150 years ago to the day (according to Wikipedia Charles Dickens published the first installment of 'A tale of two cities' on 3oth April 1859).

My tale is actually about the intervening time spent since my last post, starting with an outing to Liverpool which in doing, we achieved a few 'firsts'.

Liverpool

We spent the day with Karen and Diana in Liverpool; we got there on the train, rubbing shoulders with racegoers and the general public. General public didn't seem bothered by us even when I knocked over a cup of discarded chocolate that general public had left behind on the table; fortunately Mrs Kate had a sufficient handful of tissues to prevent it becoming a full-out drama.

We took in a few sights with Diana acting as our native guide; passing St Georges Hall, the mouth of the Mersey Tunnel and some place called the Cavern which appeared to be quite popular with the tourists, especially a statue of some guy next to a wall made of bricks with the names of various pop groups on. We had brunch at Cafe Rouge in the Metro which gave the waiters and waitresses something to talk about; they were nice enough but it was so obvious we were the centre of their 'tongue wagging' attention.

We decided to see what 'Liverpool 1' was all about; bit of a concrete monstrosity in my opinion; it will look better once it has some greenery growing over it but until then I'm certain HRH Charles might have something to say about it. We mooched in a couple of the shops and eventually found ourselves in Debenhams; it was here that rather disappointingly we became targets of bigotry that so often we hear of other girls experiencing in some establishments - 'though rarely occurring by today's standards. Karen picked up a lovely dress, perfect for the dancing planned for the following evening; and she went to changing rooms to try it on. Before she could ask the assistant if it was ok, her path was blocked by a security guard who just point blank said she would have to try it on in the gents changing room. Clearly their training hasn't got to 'T' in the diversity manual; which was further confirmed when the security guard did his best attempt at being friendly and waving us off with 'ya right lad' (best said with scouse accent) as we left in disgust.

The security guard had no idea of what it might mean to do his thing within a diverse society, he said he was simply acting on orders from is control room; clearly they had been watching us on their CCTV system from the moment we entered the store and had been 'strategically' prepared should one of us approach the changing rooms (and it's worth noting here that the changing rooms are not marked in any gender-specific way). The episode did kind of put a damper on the mood and left us feeling that every security operative in L1 was watching us as left the area. So we went down to the Pier Head to see what all the fuss has been about with the new canal extension and all.

And Pier Head.... yet more carbuncleness; I feel they've ruined what was once a most impressive waterfront, a scene painted by the greatest of artists; a great big concrete box has been planted right in front of the majestic Royal Liver and Cunard buildings. The canal seems pretty impressive though, but even that has replaced a lovely green space by yet more concrete. Perhaps it will improve with age.

So feeling rather disappointed we headed back into town and to 'The Lisbon' for a drink. The Lisbon is a bar that appears to cater for pink and purple pound, is an old building that as likely was constructed by the city's fore-fathers at a time of affluence and is full of character - you only have to see all the wood carvings and plaster mouldings that decorate the interior to tell that it was once frequented by the well-healed but sadly is starting to 'fray at the edges'. From here we ambled back to catch the mid-afternoon train, back past St Georges Hall and to Lime St Station.

Manchester

The tale of Manchester is mostly about the 'Strictly Dancing' event on the Saturday evening which went as much as the previous event I posted about earlier in the year. It was held at the Shanghi Restaurant and as before it was a bit of a laugh but to be honest, I didn't particularly enjoy it as much as I perhaps should. I put that down to having to learn something through instruction which requires concentration which I get more than my fair share of when I'm at work and sadly, trying to remember dance steps is a bit like having to do work. When I go out and be sociable I don't really want to have to do any thinking and remembering.

But with regards to shopping in Manchester compared to shopping in Liverpool, both Diana and Karen couldn't have been treated so further from the experience in Debenhams Liverpool, when they went to House of Fraser in Manchester city centre. The assistants were coming to them and asking them if they needed help and encouraging them to try any number of outfits in the changing rooms.

Walking the dog

I've discovered that our spotty-dog machine has been telling me porkies; now I know why it was going cheap on the telly-shopping channel.

It seems that some technician in a far-away land got all confused between miles and kilometres when he programmed the counter on the cross-trainer. So instead of registering the industry agreed circa of 100 calories per mile, it's only registering about about 58 which coincidentally just happens to work out to be about what the average person burns off per kilometre at a brisk walking pace. Also it seems that in 2006, these cross-trainers were recalled in the States, but ours wasn't supplied with the offending parts that apparently can break off if you try breaking into a (un)healthy sprint.

So as a result, tonight's figures look like this :-

Duration: a little over an hour
Calories burned off: 440.2
Distance covered: 4.7 miles

Total distance covered since New Year: not quite enough to get to Southport and back.

Forward look
Karen is coming down again next week; it will be great to see her. Di has invited me to join her and Karen with some outline plan to go to Liverpool for the day - I don't want to risk driving there and the thought of the train is a little daunting to say the least. Decisions, decisions..... I can't make my mind up about which would be the lesser of two evils; if I go by train I should at least have the benefit of being eligible to receive the tranny-by-train merit badge!

Bizaare in the least

I got my night out (at last) - it was either that or go stir crazy; we had a nice meal and nice company in Velvet with Di who had recently escaped her temporary offline status, and from there we went on to Manchester Concorde. It was here that the 'bizaare' happened; the place was full of girls - not that there was anything really special on (no insult to Lisa and Zara from Transfixed!), but it was like many of the girls in and around Manchester all decided at the last minute to come out for the evening.

And many of the especial girls too, such as Kay, Jane, Becky and even June and Penny who on the spur of the moment, travelled all the way from Ireland. Ok so we were missing some of the other regulars, but it was indeed a really nice surprise to see so many familiar and friendly faces; it made me feel all warm inside.

Then we went to Naps.... don't ask! - except to say music was better but I can't say the same for the 'visiting' clientele who (still) persist in taking over the dance floor.... keep off the funny tasting smarties boys; sad-o's.

Please Miss, can I have some more?

I guess I'm more fortunate than some girls in that I have an understanding wife, partner and friend, and an opportunity to be out at least once every week - at least that would be the case if neither of us had been taking turns to suffer colds and other dreaded Winter nasties and of course, we can't have a downer without mentioning the financial doom and gloom. And I really miss my outings ... having the opportunity to do a bit of girlie dancing at Naps - assuming it isn't crap when we get a visit (mental note: ask Naps to get their act together for us girls).

So in the intervening time :-

• I've made the effort to get in some workout time on our 'spotty-dog' machine;
• Had a medical which told me my bad cholesterol is up a little and I'm the wrong shape for my height;
• I quickly managed to feign surprise and shock at my medical results;
• I keep hoping for an outing - amongst other things!

What's a 'spotty-dog' machine?

It's the pet name I give our cross-trainer since exercising with it makes you swing your legs like the way spotty dog walked in that ancient kids TV program 'The Wooden Tops' - spotty dog was the biggest spottiest dog you might ever see!

This evening I set a record for the spotty-dog machine, burning off the calories at a rate of 250 per hour; that's what the readout reckons, I've no idea if that's good or bad but what I do know is I worked hard to get that result.

So that should be worth an outing this week shouldn't it? - so Mrs Kate, please can I have some more (outings) ?

Note on the financial doom and gloom: the 'Sales' are not as good this year; the shops peaked too early in the run up to Christmas. Having said that tho', got a couple of bargains from my favourite, nearly famous fashion designer, Rachel Roman

Expensive barbie

Not so much a small doll with an impossibly thin figure, but a meal with food brought to you on a large skewer.

Saturday following Karens visit was Bev's 'Ladies who dine' evening; for the experience, we ate at the Brazilian restaurant. There were about 16 of us which most notably included 3 (real) girls from the salon Lisa usually frequents - it was their first time out to the Village, and especially a first time out with a group of T-girls.

But what makes a Brazilian restaurant so special? ... well, they bring you different portions of meat - chicken, beef, lamb, ribs, sausage .... each on a large skewer the size of a sword. The routine is you select your own salad etc. and then in succession, they bring each of the offerings to you. But that's all you get.... no starters or desert... don't get me wrong, it was 'OK'... but I did feel it was rather expensive for nothing more than a barbecue... £18.95 + a service charge... and any drinks you might have had on top.... since we were on non-alcoholic drinks, our modest contribution to the bill came to about £60.

The restaurant was also quite busy and the staff made mistakes with the bill - (accounted for more people than were in our group, added drinks we didn't have).... looking on the bright side, now we know what a Brazilian restaurant is like.... but would we go back .... hmmmm! ... never say 'never', but a likely 'NOT'.

From here we went on to Naps ... mostly in the hope it could improve (music and some of the clientele of recent hasn't been that great)... but alas not the case. Gonks prating about on the dance floor with beer cans in their hand; bouncers going after them for entering the staff-only areas (but completely being unable to identify them or deal with the 'drinks on the dance floor')... there was just an atmosphere in the air; one guy even thought he 'knew me', trying it on before I even got my coat off. We left quite early, probably about 12:30 - it was rubbish.!

Addendum to Karens visit
Oh... while I think about it!... I forgot to mention that during Karens visit, as we were walking back to the Village we passed one of my work colleagues in the street; as I expected, he didn't recognise me... but it was strangest feeling to (a) not to be noticed (b) be in the presence of someone I occasionally talk to back at the office as 'Bob'!

A lot to mention

It's been the best part of 2 weeks since Karen came to visit, combination of work and a nasty cold has prevented me from getting around to posting a bit about it all. As usual, the details fade a little into vague but happy memories....

Karen stayed for a few days this time, giving myself and Mrs Kate the opportunity to spend a couple of days with her.

Day 1
Karen had said she wanted to try out the train; living where we do gave her the perfect opportunity for a journey that was not too long and at a time that would avoid the commuter rush..... not something I would contemplate but give her due, she did it!

I collected her from the station and we went to the Trafford Centre to spend the day with Mrs Kate doing a bit of shopping. From my perspective, this was my second time to the centre dressed, but this time I was a lot more confident; it was also fairly quiet in the centre since the kids were in school and possibly others had been put off by the threat of snow that was affecting most of the country except Manchester.

BTW - Mrs Kate traveled separately in her car; we had agreed meet her in the coffee shop in the main entrance.

Needless to say we had a brilliant time, lunch in a cafe, several hours of browsing the shops - but not as many bargains as we had hoped since most of the sales had ended early owing to the pre-Christmas credit wobblies. Late afternoon I took Karen back to the Village and after dropping her off I realised that I would need to get some fuel for the car since it was likely I would need some for the return journey later on. Since I would hardly have the opportunity to do it as 'Bob' I thought I better find a filling station that wasn't so near to home.... but how would I cope?.... all the confidence obtained from being in the Trafford Centre was still giving me a high so I thought 'what the h...' and pulled in the first one I saw before I reaching the motorway out of Manchester.

So I did what I normally did, filled the car with super unleaded and then went to pay along with everyone else; business folk in their 'power suits', builders in their reflective jackets, factory workers... about 6 or 7 different folk in the queue; OK so I got a couple of second glances but no one gave me any hassle - even when I paid with Bobs credit card!

That evening we returned to the Village and the three of us had a lovely meal in Velvet; followed by a drink in the upstairs bar which was just right for a change - not crowded, good music and not too loud. I was feeling quite tired and we left quite early... for us that is... home by just after midnight.

Day 2
On the Wednesday, we did the Manchester Gallery - which wasn't too bad and we even managed to avoid the kids on a school trip!. There were a number of artsy pieces including the new Antony Gormley 'Filter' only installed the week before; the most coincidental/bizarre was an animated exhibit that a little old lady was taking quite an interest in. When we came across her, she asking one of the gallery staff why it wasn't working; the member of staff said they had been having some problems with it but all the same he turned it on, and the exhibit duly came to life. It transpired that the little old lady was the mother of the artist that created the exhibit.

Well, there's only so much culture one can take, and after viewing the various modern sculptures, buttons and pictures, we went for a sandwich and some shopping in the Arndale Centre. It's been quite a while since Mrs Kate and I had been in the centre of Manchester shopping, it's probably been as much as 15 years since our last visit!. So Karen was our guide for a change, and she directed us to an interesting shop that had a few bargains in; particularly some shiny purple leggings in my size!.

A top in Evans .... yes!... Evans!... and I thought that shop was home of the boring styles for the larger ladies... how wrong was I. The top and the purple shiny leggings were just ideal for our evening activities - we met up with a number of girls in Eden (Lisa, Emma, to name just a few). From there it was onto Concorde and Naps (where else!). But again, I was feeling a little tired and we made it as far as 2am this time... turned out that all this feeling tired from the days activities was the precursor for a nasty hold!

But as always, throughout, Karen was brilliant, always the lady that she is - and the thing she enjoyed the most? - it was that short journey by train!.

Normal service is resumed

The internet pixie couldn't fix Mrs Kates blog so she has started a new one at http://mrskatesmusings2.blogspot.com/

The old one still exists, Mrs Kate just can't access it anymore since she asked Blogger to reset her password, sending the change notice to her email account.

Unfortunately Mrs Kate has forgotten her password to that too and in pressing the 'forgotten password?' link too many times got herself permanently locked out.

Dancing

This week was the 'Strictly come dancing' for us girls, organised by Lisa and June. Now normally with these sort of things I accept them with some caution 'cos it usually involves some following instructions that my rebellious side is likely to object to. But I thought 'hey, whatever' and shrugged off any thoughts of resistance and gave it a go.

Lisa got a place sorted with some reasonable floor space; the Shanghi restaurant. And June brought some music along with her Irish wit... which was needed to whip us into shape. Being a bit cautious at these sort of activities, the sort of organised 'make-a-fool-of-yourself' sort of deals; I was one of the last to get a partner.... if life isn't complicated enough June had to ask 'man or women' since we each had to adopt the relative parts. June asked that question as I was paired up with Debbie, who turned out to have the most fantastic figure... well, I couldn't exactly carry out the women's part with that sort of competition could I?

But as we got into it, learning the first few steps of the barn dance, nerves gave way to having fun and all manner of fits of giggles as we each fumbled along, stepping on toes and so on. We even got the staff to join in, they were really great. Debbie managed to win a certificate for best social foxtrot, which I have to say I had a hand in..... well .... almost.

It was only a few days later that I discovered my dance partner was actually a star - well, she had to have been to be patient enough for me catch up with some of the dance steps when I lost the sequence; no, I mean shes a star of some home-grown Sci-Fi web-movies that Lisa had mentioned that Debs and others had done... well worth a look http://www.dirtsideatomic.co.uk . Despite the limited resources, they've done a brilliant job between them. So now I can say, I've danced with Agent Poodle.

Saturday alone

Unfortunately Mrs Kate was still fighting off one of those Winter colds when we did the dancing event so she gave it a miss; she was still suffering when Saturday came around when we had agreed to meet up with Di and Paula. So I went along, alone ... well, you have to keep up appearances don't you?. Besides, I felt I really needed a good dance at Naps, having failed to 'get into the groove' on Wednesday after Junes dance lessons, and not having the opportunity at all since NYE.

The evening started out Ok; we met up in Tribeco and from there onto Taurus. Afterwards we had a drink in the newly redecorated Velvet which was surprisingly quiet... but it still had the smell of paint which made it uncomfortable - the discomfort increased when they turned the sound system up, so from there we went into Crush 2 (ex-AXM). Crush 2 was fairly crowded, a different clientele from the that of the old AXM, but most likely due to what might be their party-piece... all drinks costing £2. In there we met up with Jane and her group of girlies, had a laugh with a couple of GG's who insisted on taking everyones picture.

From here we went to Naps.... which was the point at which the evening went downhill; Naps was initially quiet, but the music wasn't upto much and the clientele was a little more of the 'admirer' social group.... I don't know?... there was something in the air... in a nut shell, a punch up (not involving any of us!), the deceitful man, well-dodgy admirers, strange sights (verging on the 'dark-side'), couldn't find my dance-groove.... or as I put it to Mrs Kate, there were far more negatives than positives for this part of the evening; perhaps we ought to try new places?

On a last point for today's entry... it's almost spooky; Di has just posted a photo of some graffiti she's seen, it says 'Enjoy Life, this is not a dress rehearsal'. Never a truer statement made. It's 'spooky' because of some of the things we were talking about only a few hours before.... If only Di, if only....

NYE and beyond

New Years Eve; well..... actually that was about 10 days ago. But I'm not going to bore myself with writing about the festivities - except to say that in over the whole 2 week break from work, we only got out on New Years Eve; had loadsa fun with our favourite girlie's at our usual spot in the Village. This in itself is a little unusual for us, such is the turn of events in our social life over the last 12 months; previous NYE's would have found us at home, even being tucked up in bed by midnight one year!

But hey!.... check out that cleavage as we party-on!

But my daily reality is a little more removed from that of our social engagements; in the run-up to the xmas break, it was like as if I had to hold my breath trying to hold out until the xmas break arrived; for an opportunity of a little light relief from work. It was around the weekend between xmas and new year when I stopped feeling weepy - why does that happen?; by the time NYE was over with I was starting to think about work (silly cow). Then I suppose it was hardly surprising that by the second day back at work that I 'had it out' with my line manager..... who admitted that I've been under quite a lot of pressure for quite some time now.

It was good to talk the problems over, but it doesn't fix anything..... but I can't carry on like this until I retire.

On a lighter note, the day before I had one of those moments that we often prepare for - just in case.... a colleague noticed my perfectly manicured nails; after all that planning to deliver the manufactured response of 'it's a life style choice' I completely failed and delivered a fudged grunt of appreciation instead.

On the bright side
Resolution No.1: I must lose some weight
Resolution No.2: I must stop being fashionably late
Resolution No.3: Get my eyes tested.
Particularly with regard to the last resolution; that size 18 dress we found in the sales turned out to be a size 10; no amount of weight loss will allow that to fit me. Even Mrs Kate can't understand how the dress magically shrunk between discovering it and getting it home.... it said 18 on the hanger, I swear it said 18 on the label and Mrs Kate said it felt heavy, like it was a size 18!

Perhaps there's no hope for us eh?

A belated 'Happy New Year' to all my girlfriends and welcome readers alike; take care and may all your wishes for come true.