Momentum

I am just awesomely happy with 99% of my life right this second. I mean the wife, the job, the roof over my head... But then there's the added extras.

1) New voluntary job - I'm working for my favourite community again! The gays... Actually the LGBTQQs etc. I'm chairing a community sub-committee for the Village Business Association (VBA). It's challenging work and I love it. We've got a pre-pride village clean up on the 16th August and a whole host of other fabulous community engagement plans coming up so watch this space... Actually THIS space!

2) Fundraising - I am involved in a monthly fundraising Burlesque night - as compére with my darling wife on the decks. Mending Hearts raises money for various children's charities and their shows are amazing! Burlesque and cabaret from just brilliant acts!

3) Drag - I have returned to my first love, DRAG! With the help of Diane Rawson and Jaye Jones, I'm running a new monthly Drag King night at Polari, below Via Canal Street. It's on the last Sunday of the month and we have the best in Drag Kings from Manchester, London and beyond! Come down to the next one on the 31st August!

4) Workshops - After talking about it for 4 years, I've finally found a brilliant studio space - Thirty8 Create in Leigh where I will be doing Drag King workshops! I did one at Sparkle Manchester in July and realised that I can, at last, put my teaching qualification to good use! The first one is on the 30th August - just contact me via my website!

Really just need to keep the momentum going now. The suns out so I'm happy, but once those dark nights start again I'm going to really have to push myself... Must buy a light box!

NYNY

It has come to my attention that I haven't blogged at all for the entirety of my holiday... We have just been so busy, so I thought I'd take the opportunity whilst we are on the return Staten Island Ferry to write.

It has been an amazing honeyversary and I have found my spiritual home. Right now as we sail past Lady Liberty, I realise, I should be a New Yorker! 

We have learned all the tricks and ridden the Subway every day. I. Have begun saying 'line' rather than 'queue', 'trash can' instead of ''bin' and always ask for the 'check' rather than the 'bill'.

Things I will miss:

1) Looking out over Manhattan as I take the HBLR (Hudson Bergen Light Rail) to Jersey City.

2) The distraction of chatter in the native tongue.

3) American Netflix!

4) The kindness of folk in the city.

5) Christopher Street and the West Village - Like Canal St. and The NQ had a baby only gayer and more full of hipsters.

6) The Subway - terrifying at first, but once you get used to it, fun and full of adventure! (Also cheap - $30 for a week's unlimited travel throughout the 5 boroughs!

7) Uniqlo - a unique and very minimalist take on design... Been in and out of there all week.

There are many more I could mention. The best bit? Having my wife with me, every day for two solid weeks - from the Top of the Rock to the deepest Subway station I've ever seen! We have had a wonderful and happy time throughout, exploring at our leisure, eating copiously and walking miles.

Someday I will live here, you mark my words!

Lydia, from NY, over and out!

Nights out at 29

I need to preface this with a note to say, this is not meant to worry people. I'm lambasting myself and my own insecurities!

Last night, Nickie and I went out to celebrate the engagement of our pals Michele and Aly and I noticed a few things...

1) My face... my beautiful face...
There was a time when I was happy to throw on a pair of baggy jeans (or skinnies if I was feeling thin), slick on some lipgloss and skip merrily out of the house off on an adventure (or piss up as we call them in England).

Now, when I look in the mirror, I pretty much want to spackle it. I try not to do regrets, but I do wish I'd listened to the skin protection rhetoric - moisturiser, SPF etc. Sun damage and bitchy resting face has left me with lines on my forehead and those attractive frown lines between my eyes. Luckily I have a very good primer which I use under my make-up which seems to work.

I also have spots... so it's like puberty and menopause are fighting on my face. I've been taking tips from RuPaul's Drag Race (Because damn those girls know how to paint their faces!) and have almost successfully learned to contour using different shades of concealer, foundation and powder.

This process, combined with showering, washing and doing my hair, strapping myself into my scaffolding and bending over to fasten my shoes takes the best part of two hours - which it never did before. What's weird is that I am less bothered about my appearance now (I am happily married and not looking for love/a shag) than I was 8 years ago so I can only assume that the current trend of age and fat shaming has got to me. #feminismfail.

2) Oh the aching...
I never understood that noise that people made when they stood up. Ooooh, Ahhh and the air drawn through clenched teeth.

I know for a fact that this has come to me prematurely. Anybody who knows me, or has read my blog for any significant time, will know that I had a back injury a couple of years ago that took me out of action for 6 months.

I also know that if I'd just done my exercises, every day, forever, I wouldn't be in this predicament. I'm actually sat in bed writing this, and I've got a nagging pain in my lower back. When I get out of bed, up off a chair in a bar or God forbid try and get off the floor I make faces and noises that I associate with my 50 something year old parents.

3) Pretty / sexy vs. uncomfortable
I have now reached a stage where if I find comfortable shoes, you'd better believe I'm buying four pairs... Nothing above 2 and a half inches is a viable choice for either day wear, or nights out. My dogs start barking and I have to go home. As long as my feet don't hurt, I'm ok - I can stay out all night.

I haven't worn a thong in about three years. My bras are reinforced with steel and Spanx and suck me in vests are NOT SEXY. Now I'll be honest, I've never owned really pretty / sexy bras. I've always had huge cans that require a staff of five to enrobe.

4) Another cake please
The eternal struggle between cake and a flat stomach wages daily war in my brain. I know what I need to do - I'm not stupid - but cake calls and I come running (I'm actually going to Krispy Kreme later on). I put up with the Spanx and NASA issued bras to give me a shape which doesn't send children screaming from my presence... Everyone, Wife, friends, family - tell me that my body is gorgeous and I should stop worrying. Once again I have absorbed the fat-shaming of the media and once again #feminismfail.

5) Let's just take the damn car...
If I'm not driving my car, I'm drinking heavily. This is mainly because soft drinks are dear! When compared to alcoholic drinks, they are always much lower quality (watered down post-mix). Also because, damn it - it's easier to wait on a cold platform at 2 in the morning if I'm three sheets to the wind. I now refuse to wait for a bus / train on a night out sober. It effing sucks.

6) We've all grown up...
A happier / positive note to end on. Looking around at the people I've known for several years, it amazes me how different we are. Almost all in strong, happy, long term relationships; all in careers rather than jobs; all sort of living the dream. I had a conversation with my friend Carys about how it used to be - out all night, very drunk, several times per week. Thinking we were the bees knees. The older I get, the cooler I ain't and I am incredibly happy with that. We have the joy that can only come when you truly know yourself.

I guess what I'm saying is that I know and love myself, and I'm happy to put up with a few grey hairs, wrinkles and stretch marks if that means I can look in the mirror and see wisdom.

Fatass is back

Ok, so it's official (and has been for some time). I'm off the waggon.

Mum very kindly said last night that I don't look as big as I used to a few years ago, but the fact remains, I am now very fat.

14 stone to be precise.

After getting down to 12st 6lbs.

I'm a mess and it's all down to my own lack of will power. I love chocolate, and I am ashamed to say, I just can't stop eating it. Not just chocolate - it's that magic mix of sugar and fat which has undone all of the hard work I did last year. I could cry.

I have tried restarting my Atkins plan, as well as trying other plans and just trying to reduce my portion sizes, but I seem to be gaining exponentially and I'm not stupid, I know why it's happening - I just can't stop.

I'm also so happy and busy in my new job and have a 3 hour round commute (or thereabouts) so by the time I get home, I have no wish to go for a walk, or go to a class, or even pop in a work out DVD. I'm too tired.

I know it's a vicious circle - I'm fat because I don't exercise because I'm tired because I don't exercise because I'm fat.

I have my weekends back now, but I'm too exhausted to even get out of bed before midday.

The weather is atrocious and I just don't even want to go outside when it's raining.

I feel so ashamed.

Dear David Crausby MP

A while ago I signed the change.org petition to block the MPs pay rise (it's dead easy, and there are currently 323,703 signatories).

Just before Christmas I received an email suggesting that I email my MP directly to find out whether he intends to accept the pay rise. The response will be sent to Change.org and they will publish to findings.

Here is what I wrote...

"Dear David Crausby,

I have a question for which I require a response.

Will you be accepting the 11% pay rise?

I have recently signed a petition to block the pay rise as I feel deeply concerned that there was very little public consultation, in spite of the continued rhetoric from IPSA insisting that this is what the public want. In addition, the idea that MPs will get this pay rise at a time of national austerity disgusts me. Most of your ordinary constituents have not had a pay rise, (and in many cases have had a pay
cut in realistic terms) for several years.

I feel that you were fully aware of the renumeration package you would receive prior to your appointment in May 1997, and in your 16 years as an MP, you have not left office to find a better paying job.

My concerns run deeper than that. Every day, I drive 35 miles to work from your constituency in Bolton to Tytherington in Macclesfield. I don't get to claim expenses, or even tax relief, for my travel, and I can't afford to rent or buy a home nearer to work.

I am strongly opposed to any suggestion that this pay rise will sort out the expenses problem. There should be no expenses problem, and frankly, I feel that I could do a great job as an MP with a salary of £66,396, which is more than three times my annual salary.

I await your response.
Yours sincerely,

Mrs. Lydia Bernsmeier-Rullow BA PGCE"

Now, even if you don't sign the petition, write to your MP and ask them this simple question. It's as easy as clicking here https://www.writetothem.com/ and putting in your postcode. Remember, they work for you!

Section 28 and why it must NEVER return

I thought that growing up in the shadow of Section 28 didn't affect me until I was all grown up. When I was at school, I didn't hear the word lesbian until I was well into my high school years, and when I did, it was almost always being thrown around as an insult.

I didn't know whether being gay was "ok" and this casual banter even infected my own lexicon. I became homophobic, without really even realising what that word meant. It seemed easier to turn a blind ear or worse still, join in, than it was to admit that I might be gay.

We didn't have any gay teachers, just suspected ones and we didn't have a single pupil in the whole school who was brave enough to come out (although between 6 and 10 from my year alone did once they left!)

Section 28 was something I had never heard of. I wasn't interested in politics or education policy and I didn't know any gay people anyway, so it just wasn't a thing that I ever needed to encounter.

Watching Ellen Degeneres come out in 1997 changed all that. I didn't come to terms with my sexuality until 2001 when I was 17 years old. But '97 was a crucial year for me. I suddenly understood what gay actually meant. I had an actual lesbian upon whom to anchor my thoughts.

I was still in the closet, even to myself, for the next four years and my sexuality expressed itself, unfortunately, as internalised homophobia. I watched Queer as Folk and thought it was incredible and exciting, but at school I said it was disgusting, because that was what all my friends said. I speculated about the sexuality of various teachers with my friends as I wrestled with my own sexual orientation.

What I feared most was somebody asking me directly, I don't think I could have lied. Four years later when I left high school, I came out and never looked back... Yeah right! I didn't have anybody telling my "It gets better" or "It's good to be gay". The backlash against Ellen had been brutal and in the UK, it was really no easier to come out as gay at 17 than it had been ten years earlier.

Once I was out, however, I never went back in. I came out to my Mum, she told my Dad, somehow my Nana found out and once I went off to university, I was a fledgling dyke waiting to spread my little gay wings.

University was a revelation. I suddenly had gay friends, got to experience gay clubs and the "gay lifestyle" (which is very much like the "straight lifestyle" but with more rainbows). It was then, at my first Pride in Manchester, that I heard about Section 28 for the first time. It was August 2003 and I was 19 and my feeling was one of abject horror. Shortly after that, Section 28 was finally repealed. But for me, that wasn't the end of the story.

Section 28 caused me harm. There I said it. Not insignificant harm - real harm. Because my teachers didn't step in when people used the word "Gay" as in insult, I never realised it was bad. Because my teachers were too afraid to come out, I never had a role model. Because there were no role models, I didn't come out.

So it was with sadness that I read Shaun Dellenty's TES article which said that gay teachers are still being told to "keep quiet" about their sexuality. This Section 28 by the back door MUST stop. Perhaps if I'd had one teacher who was out and proud, I would have had an easier ride in my teens.

Some kids and teachers are gay - get over it.

http://www.tes.co.uk/article.aspx?storycode=6373296 - Shaun Dellenty's beautifully written article for TES.

Notes on why Lily Allen is amazing

For context... 

I'm mixed, black Afro Caribbean and White British. I'm almost 30 and I live in the UK near Manchester. 

So I'd heard about Lily's new single and finally got to see it on Buzzfeed. It was awesome, amazing, hilarious. It spoke to the feminist in me, the woman in me and the 29-yr-old who is sick of this nonsense in me!

Checking the comments, several double takes were required about notes along the lines of "Hey, why you bein so racist Lily?" I had to check myself before I wrecked myself! I rewatched the video and could find nothing but satire.

It was as though they had been watching another video entirely.

For at least the past 15 years, I have seen women of all races being objectified in music videos by rap artists, directors, producers, media moguls and executives, pop stars, country stars, punks, metal bands... The list goes on. They have been props, pets, sex objects. 

Worse still, women in the music business who are stars in their own right who feel that they won't sell any records without objectifying themselves. Luckily, I had Girl Power and the forces of Spice to remind me that I was nobody's object. But what about today's young girls?

And then came Blurred Lines - surely the most mainstream song about raping a girl since... Nope, can't think of another. And this earworm got into my brain and I found myself singing it in the car. When I finally looked up the lyrics, I felt like THE WORST FEMINIST IN THE WORLD!

What is really scary is that Blurred Lines is number 2 on the Now 85 album... Disk 1, Now 85 will be on every little girls' Christmas list and with all the editing in the world, there is no escaping its message.  

Lily, your video is genius, you are entirely right. If this is where we are now, a world where an electronics manufacturer feels that it's right on to sell their products with a rape song, where will we be in 10 years? What is to come?

And as for the "Lily is a racist" commentary. Buy a dictionary, look up satire, then look up racist, then look up idiot and I'm sure you'll find your face there!