Never Again?

Never again is what you swore
The time before

- Depeche Mode
'Policy of Truth'

Its the time of year again when one must buy a new diary and start resolving to do things better/differently/otherwise next year. Its too late in the night to contemplate it now, but will have to ponder it further later...

Life In A Northern Town

A Salvation Army band played
And the children drank lemonade
And the morning lasted all day,
All day
And through an open window came
Like Sinatra in a younger day,
Pushing the town away
Ah -


Ah hey ma ma ma
Life in a northern town.

Nobody up North seems to know Life In A Northern Town by Dream Academy. But being in Manchester makes me sing it...

Boys And Bits

Am having much fun being 'not girl' of late, and the joy of having other people recognise me as such. Some examples... went to Hard On, a big queer f%$^party in London, where I got absolutely no interest really from the girls but snogged plenty of skin and leather boys, and when chatting to a random lad outside about nothing filthy or identity-based at all he suddenly turned around and said 'yeah, but you're really a gayboy anyway, huh?'. Then the night before I had made plans with a horny fag tboy who didn't treat me at all like I was female, ever. When we finally hooked up a couple of days later it was really something new for me- boy/boy sex without any incongruence between body bits and gender identity being registered, a place where bouncing tits and damp knickers didn't have anything to do with being a girl. There is something magical for me about being able to play with all the bits and pieces provided by nature without being bound by a notion of what I should be feeling like, at long last. I mean, I am used to it being the case with my lovers that they have boy-c^&*s or bound breasts, silicon tits or silicon bits or holes where no holes used to be and that is always fine, totally, but the point is that somehow now it seems okay for ME, not just as a theoretical position or semantic play-with-words, but as an actual lived practice. Even when the tboy in question met me whilst I was wearing a long blonde wig, frilly knickers and metallic stockings. and no top..

And then there is my Litchi of Lyon, queering gender with abandon and calling me 'boy' in the bath. Whimper. Nowt more to say about this round of playing about for the moment except: thanks for keeping my every nook and cranny clean, thanks for that lovely 'sleep' at the party, thanks for having such a perve-worthy roommate and do come Down Under soon. Oh, and about that pony...

Of course, I am up to no-good as we speak, but can't really comment whilst I'm still here. Would probably make both of us blush, and I'm running out of puff to keep typing anyway.

More soon, I promise. Food, sex, still art, performances, wanderings and touristing to catch up on.

Tales From Blighty And Beyond

My humblest apologies for not updating this blog very much- have had bugger-all internet access lately and have been rather busy. So, where to start??? Umm, oh, could people please let me know if they have received my postcards? Sent off HEAPS a few weeks ago but am concerned they aren't making it through as nobody has mentioned them. Admittedly many of them were sent from the UK and it seems there have been also sorts of Xmas mail chaos but at least SOME should have made it through by now...

Now, the rest of this will be as I think of it so not quite in chronological order at all. Currently watching the The Vicar of Dibley and scoffing chocolates from a big box given to me for Xmas. The latter is conveniently part of my new highly successful (if we count joy as success) diet of cheese, chocolate and coffee, supplemented sometimes with croissants and champagne. This more-than-passing fad was mostly inspired by my latest journey to France, which began on the first night in a bubble bath at my hotel with the delicious Litchi, a bottle of bubbly and several cocoa-based blocks of delight. YUMMY. Oh, and the fromage from the Land of Frogs is a sublime as ever! Ran around Grenoble buying small round cheeses from the markets (quote Litchi "she's a tourist- can we have the really revolting mouldy one from the bottom?"), and some baked goodies , and plump dates, and drinking hot chocolate with chartreuse, before catching the chairlift up the mountain and wandering through the art gallery at the top and taking lots of photos of the view, grabbing HUGE cafe cremes and then walking down to the city again, stopping to scoff market foodstuffs from our bags on the way. Bliss.... Hmm, more food... trying foie gras again at the markets, eating an enormous crepe full of jamon and fromage... Xmas dinner with Manchester Man yesterday of braising steak and peas and hot chip butties, followed by half a pudding each with tons of custard. Then off to his friend's place to hang out with her kith and kin, which was the perfect example of Northern Hospitality I have come across ever- and they are all mighty hospitable up here! Arrived to be greeted with punch, fruit mince pies, hot toddies, pretzels, chokkies, scotch eggs, cheese puffs, party supplies and heaven knows what else. We stayed up 'til almost dawn telling tall tales and being trashy, before passing out in the magic of central heating. Yay for the silly season!

My Cherrie Pops Again

Before I forget, the latest issue of Cherrie is out, including my interview with trans activist and writer Julia Serano, author of 'Whipping Girl'.

RESTRAINT

Internet cafe.
Exhaustion.
Headache.
Lots of emails to write and research to do.
Two screaming children with parents who seem unwilling to even attempt to make them SHUT THE &*^% UP, or perhaps merely TURN DOWN THE VOLUME.
Considerable restraint required not to hurt any of them, big people or little people.
Remind me never to breed.

Arty Farty

And so here I am in Blighty.

Sex and Antiquity exhibition at the Barbican (VERY straight, and rather dull), medical museum and library, Tate later this week for Louise Bourgeois,last Fri/Sat at the Goldsmith's Intimacy conference doing an 8-hour workshop with Kira O'Reilly, seeing lots of performance, going to a seminar on porn and sharpening a pencil in Jess Dobkin's vagina dentata... wow, oh, and I got to staplegun a flower to a boy's chest at a squat party. Knackered, but loving London!

TRaNNI PANiC

Yes, there's another one! Oh, I do wish I could be in Sydney for it... but my gig in Lyon is the same night. Enjoy!

Unsilent Night *Sydney*

A and I did this last year and it was just brilliant! Take a peek at the website and join in the festive spirit
----
This year, download your music at the brand spanking new (and official) Unsilent Night website at http://www.filmcement.org/unsilentnight/download.php?city=SydneyAll you need is something that can play music like an mp3 player with speakers, discman and speakers or portable stereo etc.Then turn up at the delightful Town Hall steps at 8pm sharp, approach the organisers (the one's carrying the signs) collect your map and, at the given time, turn the volume up as far as it will go on your sound device and press 'play'...Visit http://www.filmcement.org/unsilentnight/download.php?city=Sydneyto download your music and be an integral part of this particularly special, left-of-field symphony.Tell your friends! The more participants - the louder and more impressive, the symphony.Remember, you don't need a boombox to be a part of this weird and wonderful procession...If you don't have a portable cassette or CD player, bring along an mp3 player AND SPEAKERS or discman AND SPEAKERS and simply DOWNLOAD YOUR MUSIC prior to Saturday at http://www.filmcement.org/unsilentnight/download.php?city=Sydney
N.B.a limited number of cassettes and CD's will also be available on the night for a $3 donation

I Know, I Know...

I've been a naughty Zoo and not updating this much, but hey, I've been busy. And hungover. And knackered. And lazy. So, the last week or so in a nutshell: LOTS OF ART, though not as much gallery-crawling as I probably should have done, a trashy night dancing with old gayboys at a Morrissey party, eating pecantasche, the World AIDS Day march with the Berlin Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, wandering around backstreets drunk and pissing in random parks, dancing my booty off at Berghain, eating pretzels, sending postcards, hanging out with my mates for coffee and shopping, and getting hit on whilst wearing my new dirndl (which was a HIT, even in dark sweaty techno club). Have had an odd time here, seem to have done lots but also not much, still, don't have to run around all the time I guess. Sleeping necessary, and heaven knows I have MUCH busy-ness coming up in London etc. Tomorrow I spend my last day in Berlin for this trip going on a nice big walk in Treptower Park, buying fabulous German skincare products, and catching up with my friends. Or maybve curled up in bed with the tboy? Mmmm...

T And Tea

No doubt there is some witty pun to be made re tboys, tgirls and tbags, but not quite sure what it is. Ah, Berlin, I am so grateful too you for my exhaustion! Speaking of T, have a 'date' with a sweet tboy myself tonight... hmm... what to where?

Now, for you Sydney folks, don't know who exactly is organising this but I keep getting bulletins about it from the right people so off you go:

Where's all the trans + genderqueer peeps?

Afternoon tea!
3pm Saturday December 8th
Camperdown Park, Newtown (at the end near the Courthouse Pub)
Bring a plate if you can!

How awesome would a radical trans + genderqueer community be...?
Let's Freaken Build One!
FUCK YEAH!