Thursday, December 30, 2010

How I Don't Understand Words...


When I wrote this I didn't intend on it being so, gloomy...and I hate it. But instead of completely deleting it, I just made it annoyingly small so you won't read it unless you really really want to.

What I said is true, it's just not as depressing in reality as it came out in writing. I guess that's just how it goes sometimes. Basically, all I was trying to say is - 
  • Because I've always had a hard time using words, I'm shocked at how many people can actually understand what I'm saying. I'm even more shocked that I've somehow managed to help a few people, just by writing down my experiences for anyone to see.
  • Just because someone doesn't think the same way as you, doesn't mean you can't find a way to translate your thoughts in a way they can understand (as frustrating as it can be in the beginning). And just because someone seems like a lost cause, doesn't mean they actually are. Sometimes you just have to be patient and maybe try to understand what they are going through to be able to bring out their potential.
In the original post I tell you "I'm actually a high school drop-out" Which is true. But I left out the part about going back to school a month after I dropped out. I didn't go back to a "normal" school though. That wasn't a place I wanted to be. So, I enrolled into a "fast track" programme. Basically I did all the same work, just faster.






I know I've said this about a gazillion times by now...but, it really does surprise me that people actually read this blog. Even though it was really exciting when I got my first couple of "followers", I knew they were probably only being nice. Then all of a sudden I started to get comments and e-mails that weren't just saying "hi, welcome to blogger...". Not that many, but they were there. Real readers!


Then something weird happened. Someone told me that they actually liked my writing. That I had somehow managed to put together an inexplicably coherent string of words that fully expressed what they were feeling. Words they have been trying to find their whole life, Which in my mind is absurd! How could I express something that so many others can't. To me, this was obviously an isolated incident...but then I got more e-mails. And a lot of them said similar things.


The reason I find it so hard to understand is...


I'm actually a high school drop-out, and words confuse the shyte out of me!

Obviously, by high school, I could speak, spell and write. When I read a story or a poem, I could understand what was being said. But putting those same words into a sentence of my own design was like trying to milk a diamond. No matter how simple the scenario was or how well I understood the subject. It didn't matter what I tried, my mind would go almost completely blank. And it frustrated everyone around me. My friends, my teachers, my parents. No one could understand why I wouldn't just let out any old nonsense. But it frustrated and confused me even more.


Eventually I just got tired of caring and just about gave up. I'd still talk to people and attend classes. But I would be very vague or short with everything I said. Mostly I relied on socially acceptable responses to any, even slightly, complex questions. And instead of writing essays, short stories or whatever else you use words for in school, I'd just scribble all over my pages. Which is apparently really insulting. The problem was, I completely understood what was being asked and what I wanted to express. I just didn't know how to express it. There were things I would want to say, and I tried. Words would flow from my mouth, but no one could really understand what I was trying to say. They thought they could, and sometimes they would eventually get it. But mostly I was misunderstood.


Not being able to express yourself can be frustrating. So I did what I always did...I scribbled! One day I left a drawing I did on the dining table and my mum found it. She asked me if everything was okay, did anything happen, did I need to talk. She asked me about the drawing and as we were looking at the scribbled down picture she asked questions. Then a beautiful thing happened...I was able to answer. I understood how to tell my mum about my picture


It took a long time, but I slowly learned how to express myself with words. At first I had to think anything complicated through by drawing it down first. The barrier between how my mind worked with images and how people communicated with words started to break down. I eventually learned to use words to express more complex scenarios and emotions without first releasing the information into an image. It was much like an epiphany, an extremely slow epiphany, but somehow my mind started to understand how to use words. My struggle with words is still there. But it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be.


There are a few habits I've kept from my earlier struggle with words. Like the way I reiterate even the smallest ideas to the point of everyone else's frustration. And, even to me, there are obvious signs I still don't understand the first thing about good writing.


Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I actually do have a descent understanding of words. But I still feel like I did when I was a kid, struggling so hard with every word that passes through my mind. Grasping at any and every sentence that seems like it might eventually make sense...


Maybe it doesn't matter if it's "good writing" or not. When I started writing I didn't think anyone would even realize it existed. What I do know is; there are people that have read what I've had to say, and they have taken something from it. I've even helped people with the words I've written. And that's more than I ever dreamed of doing. So I guess I'll just keep on doing what I do. I'll type out words as they come to me and just hope they make sense as I press publish...

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

After...The Day I told My Daughter

Not long after I posted the story of how my daughter reacted to me being Transsexual, she kinda changed her mind.

When I posted it I felt it was more than safe to share that story with the world, because it had been a while since it happened and everything seemed to be going fine. One day she seemed perfectly happy that I was girlie and the next...not so much. I'm not sure of what made her change her mind, but all of a sudden, it did. It wasn't a complete 180, but she wasn't as comfortable as she had been. All she said was
"you have to dress like a boy around me now, because boys can't be girls"
Obviously someone had said something to her.

At first it seemed she was just against it all together but she understood I am who I am and loved me anyway. So, I made sure I only wore men's clothes and I didn't wear any makeup whenever I was going to see her. But she still seemed disappointed. I thought it might be because my hair is long, so I reminded her I was going to be cutting it all off soon, but I couldn't do it yet. That just seemed to upset her even more
"but it's so pretty, don't cut off your hair. You look more prettier when your hair is long. You don't want to look like a boy all the time do you?"
And then she made me let her make up my face and paint my nails. Now I was completely confused

Call me an idiot if you like, I guess it was obvious, but it took me a while to figured out she didn't want me to try to be a guy again, she just didn't want to be teased about it

....................................................................................................

My daughter had her birthday party the other day. When she gave me the invite she told me "You can wear a dress if you want...it's okay"
I asked her if any of her friends knew about me and if they were okay with it. That if they didn't I should probably come dressed in men's clothes because it probably wouldn't be the best time for them to find out.
"okay, well you have to wear boy clothes, but we are going to dress you up at my party...can you bring your makeup?"
The plan didn't really work though. Even though I was dressed in my manliest man clothes
- big jeans, an oversized flannelette shirt and some old skate shoes -
no one was convinced I was a guy. They all asked who the lesbian was...I told her she could tell them anything she wanted, that I was her dad, her aunt, whatever...but before she could say anything, her mum told them all I was her dad
"that's okay dad, you're a boy but you're not really a boy. That's who you are! Can I decorate you now?"

It's not the first time I was, unconvincingly, dressed as a man while with my daughter. She thinks it's funny that people can't tell. Because to her, even though her uncles and grandfathers are extremely manly, I still look quite masculine. Even though she's never seen anyone 'clock' me, she thinks everyone can tell I was born a boy and everyone laughs at me when I'm out in a dress. After her party though, I think she realizes that even when I try really hard to look and act like a man, most people see me as a woman.

....................................................................................................

There was no doubt that this would be hard for my daughter. The problem is, I know it's my fault, but I can't not be me. I'm not sure what to do.

There's no way I'm going to leave her, but I wonder if leaving a larger distance between me and her as father and daughter will help her life be more normal. Should I take on more of a role of an aunty or just the title. Or do I just help her through it all as best I can with the way it is...

After the short period of doubt and confusion, I know she doesn't have a problem with it personally. She even prefers me as I am now. I'm just worried how everyone else will treat her...for something that isn't her fault...for something she has no control over.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

October...

yes, yes I know...I'm awesome...!!!
(me, in the late 80's) 

October is a pretty special month for me. Firstly, it's Pride month here. And well, for a person like me it's a month full of important events. The last day of Pride being special in it's own right....Halloween is the day of the Pride parade. And it's friggen Halloween! Which can be a bit of a problem, because there's always so much to do on that day. Do you join in and be a proud queer? Or do you run around in clubs, pubs and parties dressed as a zombie ballerina?

(the answers simple...you do both!)


The other thing about October is, that's when I was born. For most people, their birthday is pretty special. But not me! I'm not too keen on my own birthday. Nothing particularly bad has ever happened on my birthday. I just don't like people making such a fuss about it...I don't know why really, I just don't like celebrating it. Which is why most people don't know what day it is!

Maybe I should throw my mum a party on my birthday. To say - congratulations for making it through one of the most painful experiences you could ever have the pleasure of knowing!


Most of my friends don't mind. They like teasing me about it and play around trying to guess what day it is. But they leave me be when they realize I've had enough. And most of them don't even mention my birthday when October finally comes around. Except a creepy 'special' few.

They just don't understand, and they don't seem to have any desire to respect my wishes or privacy. They even resort to stalking. Obviously birthdays are important to some people, but I just don't think they are so important that people should violate your privacy.

It's not like I'm hiding my age or anything. Most people know more about me than I know about anyone else!

Although

Every year, around January, I go from telling anyone that asks how old I actually am, to how old I'll be that year. To be honest, I can't really tell you why I do this. It's just something I've always done.

So I guess this is me trying to say - I'm officially 26, no you can't know what day this happened...and I feel old...and pissed off that people stalk me!!!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Excuses Excuses...

digital phot by: Me
over 'processed' using 'Lightroom'

I've been a bit of a bad blogger lately. But I promise, I do care about this little space of mine. I suppose I have a few reasons for why I've been away from here lately.

1) I'm kinda boring. I've been doing a whole lot of nothing lately, so I haven't been very inspired or annoyed by anything. Which is part of the reason I haven't posted anything lately.

2) I've been distracted by other things on 'the internet'. My latest new distraction is Twitter. I still have no idea what I'm doing with an account there but I have one so I'm trying to use it. And I'm also on other sites/online community thingamabob's. Mostly I'm just trying to spread awareness and share my experiences with other Trans people and their families and friends.

3) When I started this blog I didn't think I would ever get any 'followers'. I was just frustrated and overwhelmed by the real world and I needed a place to get away from everything and I turned to 'the internet'. I didn't think anyone that saw this space would take a second look and I was comfortable with that. And I purposely didn't share anything about my gender. Mostly because I didn't want to make this a 'Trans' or 'Queer' Blog. And, well, I kinda freaked a little when I was pretty much talking about my gender issues almost every post and I had actual people reading them

Now that I've been away for a while, I realize how much I missed this space, and that, this is a 'personal Blog' and I am going through transition. I guess it's only natural I write about what's happening with me. And through all the other places I keep a presence on the web, I've realized how much people appreciate someone sharing their experiences. Letting them know they aren't the only one going through what they're going through or that other people are dealing with things too and that it's okay to be socially awkward or queer or whatever.

So I'm going to try and keep my presence here up, just to let people know - It's pretty great to be yourself...whoever that is!

Monday, September 13, 2010

Saturday At Mojo's



I'm not sure why, but I can't do anything unless it's at the very last possible minute. Even when it's something fun and exciting.

I love getting out and about to spend time with my friends. I'm really paranoid of not 'passing' so I pile on my makeup before leaving the confines of my house and it takes time to lather on my messy mask of cosmetics. I know it takes a while but I still insist on being late and then waiting a little longer to start the process EVERY time.

This weekend was no different.

After sitting on two different trains for more than an hour and a 15 minute walk, in heels, in the rain, I finally made it to the gig where I was meeting a couple of friends. Unfortunately, because of my habit of running late, I missed seeing Hayley Beth, who was up first. I walked in the door just as she was putting down her guitar. It's not really a big deal, she's local, plays all the time and I got a big ol' hug from her 5 minutes later (she's a hugger, I'm not that special).


Even though I've seen them a few times now, Cal Peck and The Tramps, were playing and I love a good band with a little harp in their sound so I had to leave my comfy spot on one of the couches to get on the dance floor and do my little sway. I didn't get my comfy seat back.

By the time the headline act The Jacknives came on, my feet were dying. But I still stumbled to the floor and tried to throw in some super awesome dance moves...without moving. I have to admit, I didn't pull it off. But I did manage to hobble my way back to the comfy couches at the end of their performance to let my feet recover without too many people witnessing my pathetic attempt at keeping my dignity.


There were some annoying bits, a couple of lady lovin' ladies, a whole lot a people staring at the giant rainbow coloured girl in heels, some good music, a lost umbrella and a pair of dead feet. All in all it was a pretty good ending to a pretty good week...

Friday, September 10, 2010

The Day I told My Daughter



Telling my daughter was probably the hardest moment I've had during my transition so far. I had no idea how to tell her in a way she would understand what was happening. And, I was terrified she would reject me. So I decided to tell her gradually. By asking questions and telling her little stories of different people and even animals.

Eventually, I had to actually sit her down and directly tell her what was going on.

Kids aren't dumb, she had been noticing things about me for a while. She would tell me I looked like a girl or I was acting like a girl. She noticed that my chest was changing and a few other things. But she didn't think much of any of it. She just thought it was a bit funny at the times she would notice and then she would move on.

It took me a long while after I decided it was beyond time to actually tell her what was going on. And she knew I was having trouble and wanted to tell her something. She thought it was funny but would get a little frustrated sometimes and yell - Just tell me...if you don't know what to say just say it...it doesn't matter!

I eventually took her advice and just started talking -


You like being a girl. Right?! 
Yep!
Well, I really hate being a boy
HA HA, you wanna be a gi-irl, HA HA, HA HA...³
Yeah!
*silence*


I was terrified. In my head, I KNEW - She was ashamed. She wanted to get away from me. She hated me...but I was wrong. One of the biggest smiles I have ever seen grew from ear to ear as she started to jump up and down yelling - YAY YAY YAY...now we can play and you can come to my school and...and...


Her mum and I were completely shocked by her response. Her mum had told me the little lady wouldn't care, but she didn't think she would be excited about it.

My daughter has surprised me countless times before with her beautiful heart. But this time, I absolutely melted. She wasn't concerned with the possibility of losing me as her dad or anything like that. My daughter was excited that I was going to be born again. That she was going to be able to take care of me. My daughter was offering to be my big sister as I grew up as a little girl.

The look that filled her face after I explained I couldn't be little again and I couldn't grow up into a little girl broke my heart. She was so upset that I couldn't be a little girl. But I explained that I can live as a grown up woman and I could be happy that way. She went silent again, gave me a hug and said - At least you don't really look like a boy! Can we watch Hannah Montana?

Friday, August 27, 2010

I'm a harsh friend...




Throughout my life, just like most people, I've called a few people friend. I'm probably not the best friend a person could have, but I don't think I'm the worst friend either.

One thing I take seriously as a friend is trust. And I try my best to be there for my friends when they need me. If it's because they stubbed their toe, I'm not going to drop everything and drive over to kiss it better...after all, most of my friend are older than 3. But if someone I call a friend really needs me, whether it's to listen and let them cry on my shoulder or to do something for them or whatever. I'll do what I can to be there for them.

Some people make excuses for hurting people. They say their life is crap or they do bad things because they are from a certain neighbourhood, or whatever other weak excuse. But it doesn't matter where you're from or what you've been through, you, always, have a choice. So when I get fed nothing but bullcrap from people I call friend and they continuously treat me like I'm crap. I'll cut them out of my life until they are willing to try. I still make sure I keep an eye open and check up on them from time to time, directly or otherwise. But I won't stand in their path.

Some people have the strength to be dragged through hell with the people they love, for as long as it takes. I'm just not one of them.

This seems quite harsh to some people, and I understand where they are coming from. But, I've been beaten up, robbed, framed, blamed, and all round mistreated by friends, countless times. So I've learned, they can't be helped unless they want to be helped. And I make sure my friends know that they can run out of chances with me. If they treat me badly, it's their choice to have me turn my back on them.

When I first started to turn my back on friends, I wondered if I was maybe doing the absolute worst thing. Until one day, I got a call from one of them. I have to admit, at first I thought they were just going to try and get money off me so they could go buy more 'stuff', but just in case, I answered anyway. He said hello and went silent for maybe 60 seconds, I knew he was still there and for some reason I just waited silently, then he said he was sorry. I'd heard it before, but there was something different this time, I believed him.

He, slowly, asked me to come and help him. I went to pick him up before he even told me where he was. He was smacked out, so I had to carry him out of the condemned house he was in. It wasn't the first time I'd dragged a friend out of there and other places like it. My friends families or boy/girlfriends had called me to help them before, but it was the first time a friend had called and asked me to do it for themselves. Usually I would take them to the emergency room or call an ambulance. But this time my friend handed me a pamphlet with his girlfriends phone number and the address to a clinic. I met his girlfriend there and we signed him, and his friend, into a 'rapid detox' clinic that day. A week later, after his girlfriend and I nursed and guarded them through the worst of it, he thanked me.

So now, whenever I feel like I'm letting a friend down because I've walked away; I think of that day....I think of my friend that has been clean for over 6 years now...I think of his kids that have their dad

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Have You Ever Fallen In Love With Someone...



There was a whole lot'a lusting going on!


Some people say things like - I fell in love with them because of their smile - or - I love them because of the way their eyes light up when they laugh...I do think you can love things about a person. But I don't think there is any single thing that makes anyone fall in love with a person.


There are A LOT of people out there with beautiful smiles or mesmerising eyes. But we don't fall in love with all of these people. We might love that part of them but it doesn't mean we love them. We might not even like them. So how can we say something like - I love them, because of the way they smile for the sake of smiling...


In my humble...
been IN love once, in lust a billion and one times, mistaken lust for love twice
...opinion. It's because that might be something that you love about them and it helps remind you of your love for them.


Speaking of lust. That is definitely a confusing little emotion that tags along with, romantic, love. And it's a big factor in the fun of being in love. It's what makes your heart beat a million times faster than a humming birds. It's the thing that makes you want to ravage your new, or matured, love. It's one of the differences between, loving someone and, being IN love with someone.


The reason this can be confusing is...we don't have to be in love with someone to be in lust with them. And I think that can catch people off guard sometimes, making them believe they're in love. I think you can be in lust over someone's smile, or their eyes, or the way they squint their eyes and smile when they laugh. But I don't think you can love someone because of any single characteristic.


When you fall in love with a person you don't, just, love their smile, or their legs or their sense of humour. You fall in love with them. You fall in love with their strengths and weaknesses...their quirks and flaws...you fall in love with, who they are!



The poster catches different levels of relationship I think

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Equality...???...!!!

About 15000 people marched for the right to be married throughout Australia today.

After a slightly delayed start to my day I finally made it to the rally. With about 10 minutes before the march started. I missed out on the speakers and a performance but I made it in the end (better than nothing?).

I was feeling proud, of myself and everyone else that made it out today.

But after uploading some pictures on FB a good friend of mine told me his girlfriend was bullied because she's straight. There was no reason anyone should harass this girl. She's one of the sweetest people I've ever met. And she doesn't have any hate for the LGBTQI community, at all. I mean, she accepted me as I am without skipping a beat. Which is more than I can say for some of the 'gays' I know, who freaked out just as much as some of the 'heteros'  I know, if not more.

So now I'm not feeling 100% proud of my fellow queers. I'm still proud and I will still make it to the next rally for gay marriage. But I'm gonna be on the lookout for any 'straight bashing'. Because no one deserves to be discriminated against, even if they aren't a minority.

So anyhoosles...

Here's some of those pictures I mentioned


Some of the rallying peeps


Sure, there was a few homophobes 


But there was some straight, gay marriage supporters too


What do we want???


Lesbi-bride throwing her bouquet


Watching the last words...and...


...this

Friday, July 30, 2010

The night I ended UP Under A Car


this is not related to the post at all!

I was indirectly reminded of this earlier and decided to share the story:

I was out with some friends one night. I had a long-board with me and we were all "bombing" a hill. It wasn't the biggest or steepest hill around but we didn't intend on doing anything very reckless so we stuck with this one. It didn't really enter our minds at the time, but this was a fairly high traffic road where all the rev-heads (gear heads) would drive up and down being cool and such and it was one of the busiest nights for these guys to show off their cars and stupidity skills. 

Which is probably why we were out there.

After a while I decided to get down the hill as fast as possible. About half way down I decided to take a break and lay down and pretend the skateboard was a luge. No big deal, I'd done it a million times. But what I didn't expect was one of these rev-heads deciding to pull out in front of me in his Ute (pickup truck).

Needless to say I freaked the fluff out as I disappeared under the back of his Ute. Luckily this was a work Ute and not the usual low and lean beasts that ran down that road. So I didn't crash into him and I managed to grab hold of it's tow bar so I didn't move further underneath. A friend of mine that was skating down at the same time told the guy to, slowly, stop so I could get out. Surprisingly I walked away without a scratch.

I'm not sure if it was me or everyone else that was more freaked out. But, I didn't skate another hill for a week after that! (yeah, no brains)

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Commuting


When you have a regular commute you usually end up seeing the same people, day to day, week to week. Even though you will probably never speak or know anything more about them than their commuting habits, these people can become, Travel Buddies, of sorts.

You may wonder from time to time; should I say hi? Could we be best friends? But you probably never do, so you'll never find out if your silent, stranger of a travel buddy is in fact your best friend.

This is why we have mp3 players, and, if you're a little old school, books. So we don't sit on the train, bored, while awkwardly trying not to stare at your travel buddies. And if you do get stuck without a distraction or a reason not to notice your fellow commuters and then simultaneously 'not look' at each other. You may accidentally let out a hello.

This can be okay and you may be able to recover your oblivious co-existence.

Unless

You accidentally, half intentionally, become confident that you may enjoy a conversation with a 'Travel Buddy'.

I'm not saying this will definitely be a complete and utter disaster, akin to stepping on doggydoo and then slipping and falling onto your behind. But, it probably will be.

Usually one of two things will happen. Either the other person responds, and they turn out to be an annoying douche. That for some reason, thinks your best friends. So you try to convince them that you need to make an important phone call to get out of the conversation.
OR
That person awkwardly tries to make themselves believe they didn't notice you by pulling out their phone and making an important call. And thats when you realize...YOU, are the annoying douche that everybody else is trying to avoid by bringing an mp3 player or a book on the train.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

What About Me! (Warning: this is just an angry rant)

Why is it the only place I can be alone is in public?

I take all my friendships very seriously and I hate being a bad friend.

There are a few friends of mine that always seem to come to me for advice or even just a shoulder to cry on. There's nothing wrong with that and I actually feel quite honored that they would come to me at all. It does make me feel good that I can be there for them. And I do have rather large shoulders, that are pretty darn good for crying on. Even if I do say so myself.

The problem is, most of these friends don't seem to care if I have a problem. I'm not saying they have to be my shoulder because I was theirs. What I'm saying is, sometimes I'm dealing with my own stuff and I'm probably not the best person for you, at that particular time. The worst part of that is people get PISSED if for some reason I can't be there for them at that exact point in time.

Some of them don't get bothered at all. They'll come over and say "I need you to..." and I try to be a good friend and put my junk to the side for a moment while I explain to them that I'm dealing with my own stuff.
BUT
they usually reply with "oh...so, (some trivial problem and a bunch of tears)"

Just tonight a, drunkin' bogan (Aussie red neck), girl I went to school with from about grade 5 came to my door.  And asked if it was okay to "...hang out. I'm lonely and drunk" I told her "It's not a good idea. I'm in a really crappy mood and I need to be by myself at the moment" to which she replied "but I'm lonely and I've got more drinks I'll just come in and we'll do whatever...can you do my makeup?"

Anyway she's still here sitting on my couch trying to get my attention to tell me about the pixies that are running around my house. So I better go...yeah, I can be a bitch!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Cancer Causes...

This reminded me of how special yet tiring kids are...

So I've been growing my hair for the past 12 months now, because I want to donate my hair to Wigs For Kids or Beautiful Lengths. To be honest I'm not really sure how I decided this, there isn't really much history of any cancer in my family and I have never been very close to anyone that has suffered with cancer. But my hair is in pretty good condition and it grows really friggen quick. So why not!

And, on a slightly selfish note, it does make me feel happier when I'm a little blue. Thinking, a little girl (I think hair is more important for a little girl), that has been dealt some pretty awful cards in her relatively new life, might find a small amount of comfort or even a slight reason to smile even for a second because I'm donating my hair.

Even though I have a ~really amazing, non style~ going on right now. I'm finding it really hard to stick at it and resist the temptation to have it cut lately. But I think I can handle it for another six months. That way I'll have more than the minimum length required and I could keep a couple of inches on my head.

Although, I've been thinking lately. Maybe I should milk this for everything I can and try to raise donations for a cancer charity and shave my head completely. It would mean looking VERY man like for a few months longer than otherwise. Which is actually pretty scary for me, but it is for a good cause...

I can't decide

What do you think. Should I keep a little for myself. Or stop being selfish and start organizing my fundraising efforts?

Friday, July 16, 2010

Shutterbuggin

When I take my cameras out, I'm never sure I'll even use them. They are just something I lug around with me most days.
~Almost as fundamental as lip gloss~
But I've been thinking, for a while now, that I need to set up a shoot or at least go out with a specific goal for my pictures. Not all the time, but every once in a while could be good. It's not like I have never planned a shot before, but it was usually on request, for friends or whoever else.

For now though, heres a few more random pictures of people...

This seems to be a prime seat for the accommodation deficient citizens of this fair city

This was just one of those moments that caught my eye as I was walking past

It seems this man believes if he scratches himself (usually inappropriately) the girls he is so blatantly ogling won't notice him
This guy has been performing here for at least 10 years now. He does change it up to keep his act fresh from time to time...kinda

Thursday, July 15, 2010

I Can't Scramble My Words

Lately theres been a few things I want to talk about
BUT
I've had trouble coming up with an appropriate scramble of words that make any sense at all...even to me
SO
Instead of not posting anything again. I went and took some pictures of people to share...


Shooting this was pretty dodgy/awkward.
They were little more than one step away from me trying to get out of my shot...
gotta love wide angle.


I was taking a photo of something else when these guys caught my eye


This guy was sitting on the floor, watching people. So I took a photo...


I promise I'll try to get some words up soon (but there may be more pictures before then)
xx Sophie Neutron xx

Saturday, July 3, 2010

A Song...For Us Freaks

Even though it hurt to be called a freak growing up. I always identified as a freak.

But not always in a bad way

I've always believed, everyone, has something about them that is special. I would see people, all the time, that I couldn't describe without using the word "beautiful"

It would upset me though

Because these people that I saw so much beauty in were often ridiculed by others and tormented with the word "freak". After a while, I started to associate the word freak, with these beautiful people I would see. And I hoped I was one of them

One of the beautiful freaks...

 

Hearing this song for the first time was quite surreal. For so long, I thought I was alone with my love of the abnormally beautiful. It was like someone had been watching the incomprehensible scramble of thoughts and ideas in my head, as if it were a film, and decoded it into a song

Friday, July 2, 2010

My Hidden Life...and a couple of pictures


The moon from my front porch @ 4.45am
Rosie; f 4.5 iso3200 about 4 second exposure 

Even though I knew I hated being male and felt female from a young age I tried to be a guy for so long. For some reason I felt it would be better, for everyone, if I just kept my feelings to myself and suffered through life.

Before school age I didn't know my thoughts and feelings were different so I just accepted them. There wasn't any discussion of it really. Whenever I would say things like "I want to be like her" or "I want to be a girl" my parents would either think I was talking about the particular activity the girl was doing (Like, Tank Girl) or they would say "everyone wants that at some stage" thinking I just wanted to know what it feels like to be a girl. Like in those movies when a guy and girl swap bodies to learn a lesson (which further reinforced my belief that it was normal).

But then school started and I realized, very quickly, I had a very definite role to play as a boy. And I wasn't normal.

I was able to get through a lot of hard periods by Immersing  myself completely in something else, like sports or art. The problem with that was I still spent a lot of time looking inside myself trying to make myself "better" at whatever I was doing. This isn't very helpful when your hiding from yourself. It made me hate myself more for not being able to be normal.

Because of this total immersion, coping mechanism, I lost sight of everything else in my life. I didn't care about school, work or whatever else was happening at the time. And the future wasn't of any concern to me. I actually believed I wouldn't live very long anyway, so I didn't care about much. Because of this, everything became harder for me. To everyone else I just seemed like a rebellious kid (which I was and probably still am).


The reason I started sports was because I was getting bullied, a lot, when I was young. People would call me queer and freak and beat me in the playground. They would even search the school for me to do so, because I would walk around the corridors away from the recess areas to stay away from people. Even the girls I was "friends" with would bully me sometimes. So I thought if I was doing guy things people would leave me alone.

By the time I got to high school I could jump higher, run faster, throw farther than anyone else in my school and would compete with the seniors. So instead of being the queer kid I became the geeky kid that was good at sports.

A street light @ 4.40am
Same settings as above picture

After school I still didn't care about much, but I realized I couldn't just sit around doing nothing all day. So I kicked around doing crappy jobs for a while. During this "limbo" period I went to a wedding, with my girlfriend of the time. Because I was bored, I started drawing people at the reception. Two of the people that were sitting at my table during this boredom were her cousins. One a Graphic designer/Illustrator the other an Architect. They were sitting there looking over my shoulder for a while. I didn't really care, I hardly knew them and by that stage I was used to people staring at me for being weird.

One of them eventually introduced himself and his cousin properly. They asked me what I did "I dig holes and carry shit for people" was my eloquent way of telling them I was a laborer. They both looked a little shocked and then asked me what I really wanted to do "I don't really care. As long as I can make enough to live I s'pose it's good enough". They told me what they did and asked "have you ever thought of doing something like that?" I laughed and told them I couldn't imagine that because I couldn't even draw. They both looked at each other and back to me and told me they were both embarrassed to admit it "but you're better than us...and we draw for a living"

So, I went to art school. And I LOVED it! (not so much the pretentiousness and arrogance)

Just as I was beginning to come to terms with "my feminine side" and was starting to "find myself" through my art, I became a parent. As a result, I threw everything to the side again and tried to "harden the fuck up and be a man" (a common line I heard while working construction). This is when EVERYTHING started to get too much. I spent another 5 years hiding, in a massive depression, from myself. I worked as a laborer and got into a trade. I absolutely hated every second of it. I became loud and manly just to fit in on the construction sites I worked on. I became everything I didn't want to be.

The worst part of this time in my life, was, instead of throwing myself into something productive, I threw myself into drugs and alcohol.

After a couple of years I sobered up and I went back to school and studied design. To get away from the work and life I hated and back to being creative. Things started to get okay again, although I was still severely depressed. My ex and I developed a more civil relationship and we started to talk.

One night, when I was visiting my daughter, my ex asked me to stay for a while. I didn't mind, I knew she was lonely and got scared of being by herself at night. We just talked, about nothing in particular and watched a little TV. After a while, she randomly told me she had thought I was a gay, and I liked men, which is why she was so hateful toward me when we were together. I told her I thought I was at one stage, but I just wasn't attracted to guys. That I hated that I was a guy and wanted to become the woman I was always supposed to be.

That was the first time I had ever told someone, without any confusion, that I was Transgendered. What she did I was not expecting and gave me the biggest shock of my life, up to that moment.

She held me, and told me it was okay. I cried for hours in her arms.

I was finally free

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Not A Lot

There's not much happening for me at the moment.

I've been given a tutorial on how drag queens "hide their business" by two, flirtatious, bi-curious, ladies that had no idea about me. They say that men can rub their inner thighs to make everything "shrink and hide". And they did give a rather entertaining enactment of the process.

I've been hit on by more seedy old men. Sometimes guys can be very sweet and non threatening. But when they stand around at the back of a grocery store, in the darkest isle with no intention of buying anything, and try and get you to "party"...not so sweet.

I've been taking photos of random people. For some reason I like taking photos with slow speeds in low light and no tripod or an other support. I'm not sure they are good but I have fun doing it.

Here's some I took today...


If you're a performer I think you're fair game for candid shots.


I don't know why, but I thought the guy leaning was kinda interesting. I don't really see it in the picture, but whatever.


I just like people wearing hats.


The train pulling in prompted my last shot of the night and the end of my boring wait.

I had no idea what was in the frame when I shot most of these pictures, until after I took the photo. I was shooting from the hip, well, from the knee. I was sitting down and just pointing the camera somewhere, usually the opposite direction to what I was looking. And just held the shutter button down for a bit. (about a second or two. Bulb, f8, iso200, except for the busker)

I still haven't seen what is on my rolls of film. I wan't to use up all the rolls I have left and get them all processed at the same time. Hopefully that will be soon though.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Lets Run Away


I think I have a thing for green chairs!

Sometimes I feel like running away. To somewhere I've never been before. Somewhere I can get lost.

I've lived in the same city for about 24 years now. I don't really know anything else. I've traveled a little bit over seas (only 2 other countries, but I only count it as 1), I've driven across the country and back. But I don't think I've truly experienced anywhere else but my city.

My dream, from since I can remember, was to travel and live in different places around the world. There was no plan to become rich or be a professional, whatever. All I wanted to do was experience, live and create.

The plan was to finish school, find a job, save enough for a plane ticket and enough money to last a few weeks. (yeah not the best plan, but I've seen it work)

Well instead of saving my money I spent every cent I made on nothing. I liked to party and be an idiot. It was a lot of fun. I did travel a little bit with friends. We didn't go very far. Maybe as far as a day or two of driving away. We would be sitting at home, bored, and just decide we should go somewhere.

Usually the drill was; Check the funds we had between us. Pack a few things. Jump in the car and drive, either north or south. Almost every time we did this, we would only think about accommodation as we felt like stopping. So usually, we would just pull out the sleeping bags or swags and sleep wherever. 

One time I woke up sleeping on the bridge of a dam. There was no barrier stopping me from falling either side of the, narrower than a single bed, walkway. And a man standing with his dogs just staring at me before shaking his head and saying "the bloody things you see" as he walked off.

That was a fun trip.

Maybe I just miss the old, reckless, days of having no one else to worry about except myself. Being able to be spontaneous and actually doing the things I thought of. Or maybe it's because, at the moment, it feels like no matter how hard I try, things keep standing still.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

My Secret Sadness






This post is inspired by Hipstercrite's latest post.

About seven years ago, I started dating a girl I knew from when I was younger. We hadn't kept in contact but we were barely friends then anyway. We met again by chance and decided it would be good to catch up.

In the beginning of the relationship I had noticed she was trying to move really really quick. I didn't think much of it, a lot of people like to jump in to the deep end of a relationship right off. It didn't scare me. I just made sure I kept my space.

Not long after the very quick beginning though, she sat me down to tell me something "important". She was pregnant. Although this was pre-transition, there was no way it was mine...even though I've got the plumbing I've never been able to "biologically contribute".

She didn't try to convince me otherwise.

Even though I didn't have any desire to be a parent I did want to stick around and support her. So my plans were changed.

The moment her daughter was born, I knew she was my daughter too. As corny as it sounds, I really do believe it was meant to be. Even though her mother and I broke up a few months after she was born. I've been part of my daughters life for almost 7 years now.

When I read Hipstercrite's post, her secret about sitting at the window when she was a kid, waiting for her dad to visit her. I almost cried.

One of the things that upsets me the most, is that I can't see my daughter everyday. I'm secretly afraid she sits by her window hoping I will visit, and too often leaves the window disappointed.

The saddest part is, I know what it feels like. I used to wait for my dad to come and visit me too.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Mum, I Wanna Be Tank Girl!



Way back in the mid 90's sometime, I discovered Tank Girl. 
I hadn't really seen any of the comics except for once, very briefly, when I broke into my older brothers room and smuggled out some of his comic books and a few tapes. (yep, I'ma rebel)

The first real encounter I had with Tank Girl was a few years after that day, through the movie that was made. After seeing the movie the first time I had made up my mind. I was going to be Tank Girl. My mum and my older brother just thought I wanted to drive tanks. And I guess that was a big part of it, but not the full picture.

Throughout my life I've noticed a lot of the bad side to the world. I've also noticed the bad side to the supposed good side. Partly because my brother was a bit of a trouble kid and partly through the stories of some of my friends. There were a lot of refugee's living in the area so, naturally, we were friends.

Seeing and hearing some of the things I did I always wished I could do something to stop all the bad in the world. And being a comic book reading geek I wanted to be a vigilante super hero. Well not so much a hero. I never really liked the goody two-shoe heroes, I preferred the darker, anti hero's and the villains.

Tank girl doesn't give a shit about what other people think, she's a girl, she kicks ass and she lives in a tank...she was pretty much everything I wanted to be!

I still don't have that tank though...

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Alfred And I Reunite





I had an appointment in the city, as usual I took a camera along with me. But instead of just grabbing Rosie or my Diana (the slut of cameras - "she's sloppy...and everyone's had a go") I grabbed the first camera I ever owned...Alfred, the (Cosina made) Nikon FE10.

Today I discovered how I fell in love with taking photos. It was because of Alfred, if it wasn't for him I don't think I would have cared much about photography at all. I love shooting with him, I can't believe I left him sitting in the bottom of a camera bag for so long.

He's not all fancy with a whole heap of hoozy-wotsit's or anything at all really. He has a lens, a couple of dials to set film and shutter speed and a button to open up the shutter. But that's what makes him special.
I forgot theres another trigger-me-jig that let's you preview something or something ??? I dunno. And a timer...I know...fancy!

After my appointment I just wondered around window shopping, with Alfred slung over my shoulder ready to expose the cheapest film I could find ($1 a roll).

It was a bit weird  at first, getting used to the now unfamiliar way of changing the speed and aperture. But it didn't take long to get reacquainted with the feel and sound of the old boy, only a couple of frames or three.

I can't wait to get my film developed and scanned...even though the pictures are probably all really bad!

Sunday, June 6, 2010

A Saturday Night



Tonight was pretty great. I was at a gig with some of my best friends. We pretty much did what we always do.

We danced around like lunatics!

The venue was over crowded and we had a couple of, rather tipsy, "matured", ladies pushing us around trying to claim the area for themselves. But we didn't let that bother us. It was nothing but super serious fun times, and constant laughter for us.

People must think we are completely crazy though. We have developed a repertoire of "interpretive" dance moves. Which are usually danced to rockabilly or 60's type R&B  music. Everyone else is bopping or jiving or twisting or just moving in an appropriately rhythmic sway type dance. Not us don't be ridiculous. We're doing the "I Lost My Shoe But I have a book" dance. Yes it is as amazing as it sounds!

For some reason I didn't take a single photo. And I was lugging Rosie in my little handbag all night. Not that it's the heaviest camera around, or even the heaviest camera I own. But I think I should get myself something a little smaller for carrying around in my handbag. I don't actually enjoy torturing myself.

After the gig I caught the train to get home, as I usually do. But tonight I was really really tired. I didn't get more than an hours sleep last night.So by the time I got on the train I was completely drained. Obviously everyone on the train could see I was a little worse for wear.

There was a guy sitting across from me a couple of seats down. He started to ask me something "excuse me". He was polite enough but I still thought that I was just going to get harassed for money or something. The usual reason someone starts out polite on the train. Either that or they are going for a last attempt at getting lucky for the night. But I was wrong.

"Excuse me" I look toward the guy "is everything alright...are you okay" I was actually shocked, I could tell that he was genuinely concerned. "I hope your okay. I don't like seeing people upset. You look as if you've had a hard time". This guy wasn't threatening to look at but I didn't expect he would be so sweet.  " No, I'm fine. I'm just tired. Thank you though" is all I could think of saying.

He sort of just smiled and looked away but then said he didn't know if he believed me. So he started telling me to "never take negativity or discrimination to heart...just send it back, with love"

Some other people got on the train and were listening to him and started talking with him about what he had been saying. And then he turned back to me and said "your beautiful, don't worry about negative people...this is for you"

And he started playing a song on his didgeridoo.

Everyone on the now packed train instantly stopped talking, and whatever else, and just listened. He made everyone in the carriage smile, so we all cheered and applauded. The train pulled in to the city and he said "thank you" with a smile and everyone got off the train.

I wish I took a photo!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

A Midnight Adventure...Kinda

So it has been a while since my last post.

I suddenly realized how serious this blogging thing can be. So I freaked out and tried to pick one of my super amazing ideas and make it all super duper amazing. The goal was to be entertaining/thought provoking, or at least just not completely boring.

I had an amazing idea and all I needed was to get some clothes on and take some pictures and then basque in the glory that would have been my amazing blog post...This did not happen.

What I did do was nothing at all to do with blogging or my super duper amazing idea. I just got on with my fairly mundane life.

After a while and a lot of procrastination reading other blogs to fill my time because everything else I have to do isn't nearly as important. Fast forward to earlier tonight/this morning. I got hungry and bored, with a feeling of guilt, for not posting said amazing stuff.

So I went to get some greasy burgers and took some photos with my phone.


The talking box


Yay for 24hr drive through


They just left them sitting there staring at me...for minutes!


I had the biggest urge to play on this as I drove past

Being a badass (idiot) taking a picture while driving

The corner shop...to forever be known as "Dead Mans"
in motion 


The side of Dead Mans


So this was my midnight adventure of getting some food and driving back home.



Friday, March 26, 2010

You Guys Are AMAZING...Or Am I Just Boring

A random photo of a computer playing a movie about people that fly


I'm actually quite surprised I haven't lost any of my "legion of followers" after my last post. Because people usually freak and run when they find out. It's also weird no one has abused me yet. But I'm not complaining.

I understand it can be threatening to people, and their perceptions of gender (among other issues). Even some of my best (real) friends, that I've had since I was a little kid, ran away for a little while. Even though they would comment on my feminine looks and occasional behaviour, all the time, before they found out. But they said they had no idea. I'm guessing I was good at pretending to be a guy (I realize this statement may not make sense to you)

But you're still here.

This means people really are amazing!

I know this is true, most of the time. But for some reason we all run into the very un-awesome people in the world, a little too often. So it's easy to forget.

OR

I've been so boring you have long forgotten you are even following me, and haven't read my last post. Which is probably also true.

For some reason this has made me want to start posting things that are, actually, interesting. Instead of just writing about my weird mood or latest annoyance (but this will still happen)

Problem is...I'm not that interesting. So don't hold your breath.

I think I will just spend a little more time thinking about what I want to post. And maybe even prepare things before just getting bored, typing something off the top of my head and posting.

Basically what I'm trying to say is; You guys are amazing and I love reading your blogs so I'm gonna try and make it up to you and make this blog a little more interesting and consistent

xx Sophie Neutron xx

Monday, March 22, 2010

About Me

It has been brought to my attention that I have been keeping some rather important bits of information about myself from you all.

I don't actually think it's that important for everyone to know. But I guess I'm a little too close to it all to know. So I have decided to give you all some more details about who I am.

I am a twenty something living in Australia. I wasn't born here because my mum, who was born here, was living overseas at the time. But I've lived here almost my whole life and I love this country (most of the time).

I am also only attracted to women. I don't know why this is important to you, but apparently it is. I have never been attracted to men. And I can be sure, because, I am.

Lastly, and I suppose, most importantly. I have XY chromosomes. Meaning I was born male, which makes me transsexual (pre-op).

I didn't think it was important to say on here. I see myself as a woman and I live as a woman. And most everyone that sees me as I go about my business day to day see me that way too, including the ones that know.

I was trying to live "stealth" which basically means I don't want every man and his dog knowing I used to be a man. Which is also a good reason to keep as much of this info to myself.

Another reason I didn't want to mention this on here is. I don't want to attract "tranny chasers". I have nothing against them but I'm not interested in helping people satisfy this fetish. It can get a little scary at times with some people and my safety is pretty important to me.

I am sorry if anyone feels I should have divulged this information earlier but I honestly didn't think it was important.

PS. I wrote this a little while ago and realized it is important to tell you all. It's mostly important for me. Because; I was scared to press "publish". I don't know why. I'm not ashamed of who I am.

Please, if you don't like who I am, instead of being mean and judgemental, just don't read this blog.

If anyone does have questions though I will try and answer them. But I've found I'm not very "typical" in my experiences. So anything I say is just my opinion.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Smile


Rosie and I took this photo, almost by accident, while at a gig/event thingy. I like it, so it's going up on here. And it just makes me smile when I look at it.

It brings back memories of when I was a kid. Going to carnivals with my dad and playing the games in the side show alley. Running around through the crowds of laughing smiling people with all the amazing props and machines buzzing and swirling and bobbing and flashing. All while eating such amazingly bad sugary, greasy food. Even then, I knew eating so much junk was gonna make me suffer later...worth it!

It also reminds me to always try and find my smile, and share it with the world. Who knows, someone that's finding it hard to find their smile might see you. And just maybe find a reason to smile too.