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Lucy Diamond 's Entries

204 blogs
  • 09 Aug 2005
    Big brother is watching you Yep, today is the day when my big brother gets to meet Lucy for the first time. I say, "meet Lucy", I’m not sure whether that is totally appropriate really as I am not a different person, just I wear different clothes and he now knows me better than he did. I think I have changed in subtle ways, mainly that I don’t have to hide my natural female side, so I won’t be greeting him with an, "Alright mate!" and a firm handshake, for example. Anyway you know what I mean when I say "meet Lucy", and I expect I will continue to say it. It will be strange for him to see me made up and in girly clothes, and strange for me too, as I’ve had to put on this blokey act since early adulthood, it will be strange not to have to put up that defence anymore. In fact it is an old habit and even though I know full well it’s not me it doesn’t die easily. I am still in the process of unlearning my old habits, which were really defences as I say, so one can’t help but feel a little vulnerable going into battle without them. It won’t be a battle though, my battling days are over. From now on I will let him be contradictory to his heart’s content. He can listen to me or not as he chooses, if he has a differing opinion then I shan’t argue. As Catherine Tate says, "Am I bothered though?" Something was never right as far as our brotherly relationship went, perhaps that will become obvious to him now. I’m going in with a different attitude and I hope that after the initial uneasiness, things will improve between us. They were never that bad really, but he never "got" me, and obviously never saw me for who I was. Not entirely his fault of course. I don’t expect him to suddenly realise he has a sister, or see me as such, but he has been positive recently and he doesn’t suffer from the debilitating narrow-mindedness that my father has. One can only hope that he will understand and be supportive. Families are inclined to go on about how this is difficult for them, and I fully appreciate that, but in their difficulty some might forget who this is really difficult for. Most people take their gender identity for granted, so much so that they don’t even realise such a thing exists, and it must be hard for anyone to imagine how it is possible for one’s identity to be incongruous with their body, let alone how bad that actually feels. To be on the right path helps a lot, it takes away a lot of misery but highlights other problems. Living as a woman but physically being a bit of an in-betweeny is not entirely ideal but it has to be done, and I will do whatever has to be done to reach my destination. Still a long way to go…
    908 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Big brother is watching you Yep, today is the day when my big brother gets to meet Lucy for the first time. I say, "meet Lucy", I’m not sure whether that is totally appropriate really as I am not a different person, just I wear different clothes and he now knows me better than he did. I think I have changed in subtle ways, mainly that I don’t have to hide my natural female side, so I won’t be greeting him with an, "Alright mate!" and a firm handshake, for example. Anyway you know what I mean when I say "meet Lucy", and I expect I will continue to say it. It will be strange for him to see me made up and in girly clothes, and strange for me too, as I’ve had to put on this blokey act since early adulthood, it will be strange not to have to put up that defence anymore. In fact it is an old habit and even though I know full well it’s not me it doesn’t die easily. I am still in the process of unlearning my old habits, which were really defences as I say, so one can’t help but feel a little vulnerable going into battle without them. It won’t be a battle though, my battling days are over. From now on I will let him be contradictory to his heart’s content. He can listen to me or not as he chooses, if he has a differing opinion then I shan’t argue. As Catherine Tate says, "Am I bothered though?" Something was never right as far as our brotherly relationship went, perhaps that will become obvious to him now. I’m going in with a different attitude and I hope that after the initial uneasiness, things will improve between us. They were never that bad really, but he never "got" me, and obviously never saw me for who I was. Not entirely his fault of course. I don’t expect him to suddenly realise he has a sister, or see me as such, but he has been positive recently and he doesn’t suffer from the debilitating narrow-mindedness that my father has. One can only hope that he will understand and be supportive. Families are inclined to go on about how this is difficult for them, and I fully appreciate that, but in their difficulty some might forget who this is really difficult for. Most people take their gender identity for granted, so much so that they don’t even realise such a thing exists, and it must be hard for anyone to imagine how it is possible for one’s identity to be incongruous with their body, let alone how bad that actually feels. To be on the right path helps a lot, it takes away a lot of misery but highlights other problems. Living as a woman but physically being a bit of an in-betweeny is not entirely ideal but it has to be done, and I will do whatever has to be done to reach my destination. Still a long way to go…
    Aug 09, 2005 908
  • 05 Aug 2005
    Big happy families So, as I mentioned in today’s good morning thread, my gran has just been round to meet the real Lucy for the first time. She wasn’t fazed a bit, just her sweet usual self. She pushed her tummy out and said she was jealous of my figure! She’s not the only one with a bit of a tummy though, family trait it seems. Well, I hope I start shrinking soon that’s all I can say, let’s hope that runs in the family too. Mum brought her round and pottered about in the garden a bit while we sat and watched her from the garden bench, sipping a cup of tea. This is the life. I’m going over to mum’s tonight "for us tea", as they (are supposed to) say around here. Can’t be bad, my own personal cook and gardener, I asked if I should bring some washing and ironing too but she drew the line at that. Well, you gotta try haven’t you. Wednesday night was super fun. I used to work a lot around that area with my last band so I half knew what to expect. I didn’t expect the club in St Helens to be overly plush, shall we say. However it was a great atmosphere, and everyone was very friendly, mostly younger than us it seemed. I was amazed at the number of young lesbians in St Helens, quite a scene it seems, and lots of gay blokes there too, all shapes and sizes really, great place to people-watch, as Pippa put it. We were the only trannies there that night, apart from the DJ, who can hardly be described as a drag queen as she was quite convincing, even though she was six foot four in heels. It made a pleasant change that; DJ drag queens that I’ve come across in the past have been grotesque, tranny-hating parodies of pantomime dames, giant balloon boobs and clown faces and everything, yuk. And drag queens that hate trannies – what’s that all about? Take a look at yourself for god’s sake. AND this one played decent music, feel good stuff, not just thump thump 4-to-the-bar beats with tunes that go round and round in circles, if they have tunes at all that is. I have a very low opinion of all that stuff, it is so easy to churn out that mindless rubbish, just do 4 bars and loop it and repeat ad nauseum, adding some annoying effects in the mix. Completely boring. Pip of course also used to work on the same club scene as I did, with her now reformed glam rock band. Maybe that should be re-formed, I doubt if any of them are reformed characters, I mean the band split up and has now got back together again, as you ought to know from reading her blog, and shame on you if you don’t. When we first met that was the first thing we found we had in common, having worked in the same clubs, so that kind of broke the ice straight away. I can’t quite put my finger on it – Pip and I are remarkably the same but different. It’s a great friendship really. Come over again soon Pip and let me try and put my fingers on it again… Anyway, as promised we came back here for an especially passionate night of passion, but you don’t want those details do you. Suffice to say, it was lovely, and the evening generally did us both the world of good. Next week it’s my brother’s turn to meet the real Lucy. Somehow I feel more ready to face him now. It’s gotta be weird for friends and family to see me like this at first, but I’m sure it will be fine, he’s been very positive about it all recently, so I shall try not to scare him too much. Right, I’d better touch up my lippy and get dressed for dinner. As you may have guessed, I don’t talk like they do on Coronation Street, despite living even further north. No, I’m not going "for us tea", I am going over for dinner. See - I’m posh me, I say I’m posh tha knows. (I’m not really, I was just brung up proper). xx
    887 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Big happy families So, as I mentioned in today’s good morning thread, my gran has just been round to meet the real Lucy for the first time. She wasn’t fazed a bit, just her sweet usual self. She pushed her tummy out and said she was jealous of my figure! She’s not the only one with a bit of a tummy though, family trait it seems. Well, I hope I start shrinking soon that’s all I can say, let’s hope that runs in the family too. Mum brought her round and pottered about in the garden a bit while we sat and watched her from the garden bench, sipping a cup of tea. This is the life. I’m going over to mum’s tonight "for us tea", as they (are supposed to) say around here. Can’t be bad, my own personal cook and gardener, I asked if I should bring some washing and ironing too but she drew the line at that. Well, you gotta try haven’t you. Wednesday night was super fun. I used to work a lot around that area with my last band so I half knew what to expect. I didn’t expect the club in St Helens to be overly plush, shall we say. However it was a great atmosphere, and everyone was very friendly, mostly younger than us it seemed. I was amazed at the number of young lesbians in St Helens, quite a scene it seems, and lots of gay blokes there too, all shapes and sizes really, great place to people-watch, as Pippa put it. We were the only trannies there that night, apart from the DJ, who can hardly be described as a drag queen as she was quite convincing, even though she was six foot four in heels. It made a pleasant change that; DJ drag queens that I’ve come across in the past have been grotesque, tranny-hating parodies of pantomime dames, giant balloon boobs and clown faces and everything, yuk. And drag queens that hate trannies – what’s that all about? Take a look at yourself for god’s sake. AND this one played decent music, feel good stuff, not just thump thump 4-to-the-bar beats with tunes that go round and round in circles, if they have tunes at all that is. I have a very low opinion of all that stuff, it is so easy to churn out that mindless rubbish, just do 4 bars and loop it and repeat ad nauseum, adding some annoying effects in the mix. Completely boring. Pip of course also used to work on the same club scene as I did, with her now reformed glam rock band. Maybe that should be re-formed, I doubt if any of them are reformed characters, I mean the band split up and has now got back together again, as you ought to know from reading her blog, and shame on you if you don’t. When we first met that was the first thing we found we had in common, having worked in the same clubs, so that kind of broke the ice straight away. I can’t quite put my finger on it – Pip and I are remarkably the same but different. It’s a great friendship really. Come over again soon Pip and let me try and put my fingers on it again… Anyway, as promised we came back here for an especially passionate night of passion, but you don’t want those details do you. Suffice to say, it was lovely, and the evening generally did us both the world of good. Next week it’s my brother’s turn to meet the real Lucy. Somehow I feel more ready to face him now. It’s gotta be weird for friends and family to see me like this at first, but I’m sure it will be fine, he’s been very positive about it all recently, so I shall try not to scare him too much. Right, I’d better touch up my lippy and get dressed for dinner. As you may have guessed, I don’t talk like they do on Coronation Street, despite living even further north. No, I’m not going "for us tea", I am going over for dinner. See - I’m posh me, I say I’m posh tha knows. (I’m not really, I was just brung up proper). xx
    Aug 05, 2005 887
  • 01 Aug 2005
    Getting there, slowly… If anyone were to ask me how my transition is going, that may well be the answer. I’ve heard many different descriptions of this "journey", ranging from "hell" to "blessed". Long and slow certainly seems to apply in most cases. However, some news: today I got a letter from Charing Cross offering me an appointment in November and please could I confirm that I really want one. YES. Consider it confirmed. So nearly 4 months to wait, but that’s the NHS for you. I will play it by the book for as long as is tolerable. I hear so many horror stories from the House of Charing Cross and the various surgeons and institutions they refer people to, but I‘m trying not to listen, or at least to remain open-minded. Better to arrive impartial and wanting them to help me, rather than cynical and prejudiced. I will do my best to be a good patient. I certainly have to be patient, but I know I will get there, slowly…
    910 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Getting there, slowly… If anyone were to ask me how my transition is going, that may well be the answer. I’ve heard many different descriptions of this "journey", ranging from "hell" to "blessed". Long and slow certainly seems to apply in most cases. However, some news: today I got a letter from Charing Cross offering me an appointment in November and please could I confirm that I really want one. YES. Consider it confirmed. So nearly 4 months to wait, but that’s the NHS for you. I will play it by the book for as long as is tolerable. I hear so many horror stories from the House of Charing Cross and the various surgeons and institutions they refer people to, but I‘m trying not to listen, or at least to remain open-minded. Better to arrive impartial and wanting them to help me, rather than cynical and prejudiced. I will do my best to be a good patient. I certainly have to be patient, but I know I will get there, slowly…
    Aug 01, 2005 910
  • 28 Jul 2005
    Please do not make assumptions as a punch in the face often offends. After the admittedly smug feeling I had when I received my driving license with my new name and girly photo, I was a little disappointed to receive today my vehicle registration document. The name is correct, and this time they have decided that I am a "Miss" (I didn’t specify), but they have for some unknown reason assumed that the vehicle has had a change of keeper. No no no, the keeper is the same, just the name has changed. That’s what the Deed Poll was for guys! They even guessed at the date of transfer, slightly mystifying since I didn’t fill in any "new keeper" details, making it quite clear that the only thing that has changed is my name. Of course it’s not a massive problem, just a slight nuisance that I shall now have to write to them and explain in simple short words that my name used to be… and is now… and they made the rest up. After all, it’s a good selling point to be able to say that the car has only had one previous lady owner. They also sent a letter to my old name thanking ‘him’ for informing them of the change of keeper. Tsk. It’s just a name, how hard can it be? I’m sure this will pale into insignificance in the future and things will undoubtedly get a lot worse, from what I’ve heard about Charing Cross and the NHS... In fact I had dealings with the NHS last week. 4 weeks on from Sparkle, when I injured the middle finger on my right hand, I decided to go to casualty to get it checked out, as it was still swollen and giving me substantial pain when using it, especially if I twisted it even slightly when picking things up and so on. I was there for 5 and half hours. I mean, I know the NHS is stretched but that’s just taking the piss isn’t it? Still, everyone was very nice to me, not even a funny look, and I can’t complain about the people that saw me, just the ridiculous wait. Anyway, they x-rayed the offending finger and decided that there was no bone fracture, it seems to be damage to the cartilage and tendon. The doc said I should get full function back eventually but that the swelling might never go down. I guess it’s not too bad but my hands are already quite large enough thank you very much, so I have to admit it’s a bit of a drag. It still hurts just as bad and I can’t quite bend it all the way in, so I can’t make a proper fist. I suppose I shall just have to avoid punching anyone in the face for the time being. Shame.
    1032 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Please do not make assumptions as a punch in the face often offends. After the admittedly smug feeling I had when I received my driving license with my new name and girly photo, I was a little disappointed to receive today my vehicle registration document. The name is correct, and this time they have decided that I am a "Miss" (I didn’t specify), but they have for some unknown reason assumed that the vehicle has had a change of keeper. No no no, the keeper is the same, just the name has changed. That’s what the Deed Poll was for guys! They even guessed at the date of transfer, slightly mystifying since I didn’t fill in any "new keeper" details, making it quite clear that the only thing that has changed is my name. Of course it’s not a massive problem, just a slight nuisance that I shall now have to write to them and explain in simple short words that my name used to be… and is now… and they made the rest up. After all, it’s a good selling point to be able to say that the car has only had one previous lady owner. They also sent a letter to my old name thanking ‘him’ for informing them of the change of keeper. Tsk. It’s just a name, how hard can it be? I’m sure this will pale into insignificance in the future and things will undoubtedly get a lot worse, from what I’ve heard about Charing Cross and the NHS... In fact I had dealings with the NHS last week. 4 weeks on from Sparkle, when I injured the middle finger on my right hand, I decided to go to casualty to get it checked out, as it was still swollen and giving me substantial pain when using it, especially if I twisted it even slightly when picking things up and so on. I was there for 5 and half hours. I mean, I know the NHS is stretched but that’s just taking the piss isn’t it? Still, everyone was very nice to me, not even a funny look, and I can’t complain about the people that saw me, just the ridiculous wait. Anyway, they x-rayed the offending finger and decided that there was no bone fracture, it seems to be damage to the cartilage and tendon. The doc said I should get full function back eventually but that the swelling might never go down. I guess it’s not too bad but my hands are already quite large enough thank you very much, so I have to admit it’s a bit of a drag. It still hurts just as bad and I can’t quite bend it all the way in, so I can’t make a proper fist. I suppose I shall just have to avoid punching anyone in the face for the time being. Shame.
    Jul 28, 2005 1032
  • 27 Jul 2005
    Relax, don’t do it… Hit me with those laser beams… I had my 4th IPL session yesterday. The last couple of times I dressed ambiguously, unisex they used to call it in the days when my mum owned a dress shop (I was SO disappointed when she decided to sell it). But yesterday I put on my very girly jeans, embroidered with pink hearts and stuff, definitely NOT unisex, and a blue v-neck jumper, equally girly, well ok I have a pink one just the same but there is no ambiguity even though it’s blue. The trouble with going for my IPL sessions is that not only can I not wear make up, but I have to have enough stubble, 2 or 3 day’s worth, to be able to treat the area. So picture if you will, a girl for all intents and purposes, with designer stubble. Not a pretty sight, I think I confused a few small children in the supermarket… Anyway my very sweet laserologist (?) said, "You look very smart today, are you going somewhere special?" I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for being even in "half-drab", though it really is a bit weird being in public in such a way. It’s a rock and hard place situation; even if reverted to my old drab clothes, it still wouldn’t feel right. I’m still a woman even when I don’t shave. The moral of the story being: it’s not about the clothes; clothes do not maketh the woman, or something. Anyway Jade, the laserologist, was very sweet, and asked a bit more about my situation, very politely of course, without probing, and said that I looked much better in feminine clothes. We discussed the treatment. There is a clear reduction in the number of dark hairs above my top lip, and elsewhere it seems that the hair is less dense, but not drastically, and not enough to make a significant difference as yet. There are also plenty of pale hairs which laser or IPL might not target so electrolysis will almost certainly be needed at some point in the future. Anyway next session we are going to try the laser, which treats one hair at a time, unlike IPL which treats the whole face in about 20 bursts. Jade says she will still do the whole face with the laser but obviously it will take a LOT longer, I’m not so sure she will be able to do the whole lot in one go, unless I’m there into the early evening. Last time I plucked it took me about 4 hours to clear the whole lot, though laser shouldn’t take as long as tweezing out each hair very carefully (do it carelessly and you will be left blotchy; the hairs have to be pulled out in the direction of growth, I’ve found). So we shall see. There is no extra charge even though it means a lot more work for Jade. Probably a lot more pain for me too, but you know the saying about pain and gain… One thing everyone should be aware of regarding hair removal is, don’t expect miracles, or even quick results. There is no magic way to remove um, "stubborn" facial hair. Time, pain, money are the main ingredients, even hormones don’t seem to help. I wish I’d started years ago, but then I wish I’d told my parents how I felt when I was 4, or indeed at any point over the following 37 years. I don’t think my dad can quite get his head round it, and really it seems that he won’t even try. One can only wonder how things would be now if I had told him when I was a child. Mum continues to be, I can’t think of a sufficiently descriptive adjective, wonderful, extremely wonderful. She’s telling her friends now, and is trying to help dad to come to terms with it in some way. Some of her friends have contacted me directly to offer their love and support. My brother also responded to my last email in a more positive way, he’s being defensive towards dad (he doesn’t need to be; I DO understand), but it seems he is fine with my situation, I think somehow, somewhere, one way or another, he does understand what this all means for me. He’s coming up in a couple of weeks, the first time since the news broke, so it will be a little nervy for me, but I’m sure all will be fine. The unknown quantity of course is the dad situation; normally when big brother ventures up north we all get together, usually go out for dinner (especially when he has a new girlfriend, which is most times he visits, including this one). Dad said he isn’t ready to meet Lucy, and still hasn’t yet told me otherwise. It’s Lucy or no-one now though, so I just have to wait and see if he invites me to join them. He’s not saying much at all at the moment, certainly not to me. The world of terrorism and extremism saddens me hugely. The thing that gets me is how they justify it using religion. I do not criticise Islam, or any one religion, if my feelings are a criticism it is directed towards ALL religion. I’m an atheist, I don’t force that belief upon anyone, but I stand by my beliefs, and yes, it IS a belief, don’t call me an unbeliever or an infidel. Let’s suppose I am right, that there is no god, that everything in the universe is created by and ruled by nature and its laws. The suicide bombers who claim that it is "their" god’s will that innocent civilians should die are basing their beliefs on something that does not exist. One individual on a news report claimed that all Moslems should believe that this life is a test. Two huge flaws there, in my way of thinking. We are all born and live on the same piece of rock which floats around the universe. We are all very small. Why must we base our actions on what comes after we die, and abstract ideologies like religion? It seems wrong to me; better to live together in peace, to not have any hatred to others who share the same planet, and to base philosophies around life, not death. Life is not a test-run, it’s not a rehearsal nor an assessment by a higher being. It’s our one chance to do the right thing. We only get one go at life, make it a good one. There is no justification for killing innocent people. Your god says it is right? There is no god. Get real, come down to earth, live this life in peace. I am not responsible for any country’s foreign policy nor any other excuse that may be used; I do not condone such policies any more than I condone suicide bombing. I do not single out Moslems or believe they should be treated differently to any other human being; I have nothing against them. I was born in the west and I can’t help that. I am not a justifiable target. Do not target me. Do not randomly kill people of all ages and religious beliefs in the name of anything. It is WRONG. The news today is that one of the named suspects of the recent attempted bombings has been arrested. Clearly he is a danger to society and I can only be glad, if indeed it is the man they think it is, that he is behind bars. I hope this all now seems more real to him than the notion of going to paradise, but I suspect he is beyond hope with his misguided beliefs. It’s not paradise guys, it’s only pain and suffering for your fellow human beings. Inflicting this on others can never help your cause. I pray to myself that these people will one day see the bigger picture. Peace and love to you all. xx
    931 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Relax, don’t do it… Hit me with those laser beams… I had my 4th IPL session yesterday. The last couple of times I dressed ambiguously, unisex they used to call it in the days when my mum owned a dress shop (I was SO disappointed when she decided to sell it). But yesterday I put on my very girly jeans, embroidered with pink hearts and stuff, definitely NOT unisex, and a blue v-neck jumper, equally girly, well ok I have a pink one just the same but there is no ambiguity even though it’s blue. The trouble with going for my IPL sessions is that not only can I not wear make up, but I have to have enough stubble, 2 or 3 day’s worth, to be able to treat the area. So picture if you will, a girl for all intents and purposes, with designer stubble. Not a pretty sight, I think I confused a few small children in the supermarket… Anyway my very sweet laserologist (?) said, "You look very smart today, are you going somewhere special?" I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for being even in "half-drab", though it really is a bit weird being in public in such a way. It’s a rock and hard place situation; even if reverted to my old drab clothes, it still wouldn’t feel right. I’m still a woman even when I don’t shave. The moral of the story being: it’s not about the clothes; clothes do not maketh the woman, or something. Anyway Jade, the laserologist, was very sweet, and asked a bit more about my situation, very politely of course, without probing, and said that I looked much better in feminine clothes. We discussed the treatment. There is a clear reduction in the number of dark hairs above my top lip, and elsewhere it seems that the hair is less dense, but not drastically, and not enough to make a significant difference as yet. There are also plenty of pale hairs which laser or IPL might not target so electrolysis will almost certainly be needed at some point in the future. Anyway next session we are going to try the laser, which treats one hair at a time, unlike IPL which treats the whole face in about 20 bursts. Jade says she will still do the whole face with the laser but obviously it will take a LOT longer, I’m not so sure she will be able to do the whole lot in one go, unless I’m there into the early evening. Last time I plucked it took me about 4 hours to clear the whole lot, though laser shouldn’t take as long as tweezing out each hair very carefully (do it carelessly and you will be left blotchy; the hairs have to be pulled out in the direction of growth, I’ve found). So we shall see. There is no extra charge even though it means a lot more work for Jade. Probably a lot more pain for me too, but you know the saying about pain and gain… One thing everyone should be aware of regarding hair removal is, don’t expect miracles, or even quick results. There is no magic way to remove um, "stubborn" facial hair. Time, pain, money are the main ingredients, even hormones don’t seem to help. I wish I’d started years ago, but then I wish I’d told my parents how I felt when I was 4, or indeed at any point over the following 37 years. I don’t think my dad can quite get his head round it, and really it seems that he won’t even try. One can only wonder how things would be now if I had told him when I was a child. Mum continues to be, I can’t think of a sufficiently descriptive adjective, wonderful, extremely wonderful. She’s telling her friends now, and is trying to help dad to come to terms with it in some way. Some of her friends have contacted me directly to offer their love and support. My brother also responded to my last email in a more positive way, he’s being defensive towards dad (he doesn’t need to be; I DO understand), but it seems he is fine with my situation, I think somehow, somewhere, one way or another, he does understand what this all means for me. He’s coming up in a couple of weeks, the first time since the news broke, so it will be a little nervy for me, but I’m sure all will be fine. The unknown quantity of course is the dad situation; normally when big brother ventures up north we all get together, usually go out for dinner (especially when he has a new girlfriend, which is most times he visits, including this one). Dad said he isn’t ready to meet Lucy, and still hasn’t yet told me otherwise. It’s Lucy or no-one now though, so I just have to wait and see if he invites me to join them. He’s not saying much at all at the moment, certainly not to me. The world of terrorism and extremism saddens me hugely. The thing that gets me is how they justify it using religion. I do not criticise Islam, or any one religion, if my feelings are a criticism it is directed towards ALL religion. I’m an atheist, I don’t force that belief upon anyone, but I stand by my beliefs, and yes, it IS a belief, don’t call me an unbeliever or an infidel. Let’s suppose I am right, that there is no god, that everything in the universe is created by and ruled by nature and its laws. The suicide bombers who claim that it is "their" god’s will that innocent civilians should die are basing their beliefs on something that does not exist. One individual on a news report claimed that all Moslems should believe that this life is a test. Two huge flaws there, in my way of thinking. We are all born and live on the same piece of rock which floats around the universe. We are all very small. Why must we base our actions on what comes after we die, and abstract ideologies like religion? It seems wrong to me; better to live together in peace, to not have any hatred to others who share the same planet, and to base philosophies around life, not death. Life is not a test-run, it’s not a rehearsal nor an assessment by a higher being. It’s our one chance to do the right thing. We only get one go at life, make it a good one. There is no justification for killing innocent people. Your god says it is right? There is no god. Get real, come down to earth, live this life in peace. I am not responsible for any country’s foreign policy nor any other excuse that may be used; I do not condone such policies any more than I condone suicide bombing. I do not single out Moslems or believe they should be treated differently to any other human being; I have nothing against them. I was born in the west and I can’t help that. I am not a justifiable target. Do not target me. Do not randomly kill people of all ages and religious beliefs in the name of anything. It is WRONG. The news today is that one of the named suspects of the recent attempted bombings has been arrested. Clearly he is a danger to society and I can only be glad, if indeed it is the man they think it is, that he is behind bars. I hope this all now seems more real to him than the notion of going to paradise, but I suspect he is beyond hope with his misguided beliefs. It’s not paradise guys, it’s only pain and suffering for your fellow human beings. Inflicting this on others can never help your cause. I pray to myself that these people will one day see the bigger picture. Peace and love to you all. xx
    Jul 27, 2005 931
  • 16 Jul 2005
    I love you more than chocolate itself I’m more than half-way through my choccies now, each one wrapped in a loving message, for extra sweetness, aww. I had to think about the one above, but yes it’s true, I do. Me and chocolate go back a long way but you have the edge babe, I love you, more than chocolate… Anyway, just a quickie today, as I’m so excited but have lots to do. I just got my new driving licence – WOO HOO! I now have formal ID in Lucy’s name and with her much more presentable photo, feels good. Now, when I filled in the form I assumed they wouldn’t accept me using the title Miss, not until I get my gender recognition certificate. This document has just been introduced in this country, and in my case I will have to wait a minimum of two years, living in the female role, before I can get one. It allows you to be issued with a new birth certificate displaying the correct gender, thus allowing you to marry a man, and so on. When I examined my old driving licence I thought none of this matters because it doesn’t actually state on the licence whether I am male or female; the question on the form must be purely for their records, so I put Mr, not wanting it to be sent back with a request for a GRC. First thing I notice on my new licence is that on the separate photocard section it DOES stipulate gender, but on mine it didn’t say Mr Lucy Diamond, it said Ms! For once in my life I am glad I have bad handwriting, and/or thankful to the good people at the DVLA for using the appropriate title. Either they misread my small r as an s, or just assumed that’s what I was from my photo (which I showed you all here a while ago). I am so pleased. I can now use it as proof for those awkward people who don’t believe I have changed my name to Lucy. Paypal for example; why oh why do they need to see a copy of my driving licence? They never saw the old one when I opened my account, in fact they, as with many other such organisations, never asked for any form of ID whatsoever. Strange; a nuisance, but no longer a problem. Mum is coming over for dinner tonight, so I must tidy up a bit, make myself presentable, go out and buy food, and get cooking, amongst other things. She has told a few of her friends about me, who all send their love, and has told my gran, her mum, who said all the right things and just doesn’t have a problem. Now, she is 87, considerably older than my dad, but much less narrow-minded. I think her attitude towards this puts my dad to shame, though of course it’s not my place to say so. She told mum that she knows about such things and thinks we are all very brave and that I’m just lovely anyway, so she doesn’t have a problem with it. Maybe it’s a dad’s job to have problems with their kids, to question everything they do, to try to control everything…. But, whilst he does all that, I don’t see him making any serious attempt to understand it. Perhaps gran has seen a bit more daytime telly. I hope my mum points out gran’s open-mindedness to dad, not unimpressive for someone born in 1918… Being "old school", is no longer an excuse. A quick comment on some of your comments to my previous blog: I won’t be preparing a written statement for the benefit of the local gossips; politicians do that sort of thing, nor will I be relocating. Going to a different place doesn’t stop people talking, either here or there, and people talking does not bother me in the slightest, but one would be naïve not to anticipate it. Pippa is a man, shock, horror! Unlike me, Pip does both, very well I might add. It took me a while to get my head round it but I believe she is happy in either role, as long as she has some opportunity to express the female side occasionally. (A small irony that she becomes less of a father figure by adding "pa" to her name, but only a small one). It’s lovely to be out with my man, a happy couple, a semblance of normality, and great fun to be out with my bestest girlfriend, so I really don’t mind either way. To quote Pippa from her blog (Jan 23rd 2005), "Its not what you wear that makes you feel special, it’s how the people that matter to you see you. Lucy sees me as ME... drab or girl, it’s STILL me and that’s all that matters." You are indeed you, and that’s how I see you. Simply lovely. Right, one more choccy then breakfast… xx
    1001 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • I love you more than chocolate itself I’m more than half-way through my choccies now, each one wrapped in a loving message, for extra sweetness, aww. I had to think about the one above, but yes it’s true, I do. Me and chocolate go back a long way but you have the edge babe, I love you, more than chocolate… Anyway, just a quickie today, as I’m so excited but have lots to do. I just got my new driving licence – WOO HOO! I now have formal ID in Lucy’s name and with her much more presentable photo, feels good. Now, when I filled in the form I assumed they wouldn’t accept me using the title Miss, not until I get my gender recognition certificate. This document has just been introduced in this country, and in my case I will have to wait a minimum of two years, living in the female role, before I can get one. It allows you to be issued with a new birth certificate displaying the correct gender, thus allowing you to marry a man, and so on. When I examined my old driving licence I thought none of this matters because it doesn’t actually state on the licence whether I am male or female; the question on the form must be purely for their records, so I put Mr, not wanting it to be sent back with a request for a GRC. First thing I notice on my new licence is that on the separate photocard section it DOES stipulate gender, but on mine it didn’t say Mr Lucy Diamond, it said Ms! For once in my life I am glad I have bad handwriting, and/or thankful to the good people at the DVLA for using the appropriate title. Either they misread my small r as an s, or just assumed that’s what I was from my photo (which I showed you all here a while ago). I am so pleased. I can now use it as proof for those awkward people who don’t believe I have changed my name to Lucy. Paypal for example; why oh why do they need to see a copy of my driving licence? They never saw the old one when I opened my account, in fact they, as with many other such organisations, never asked for any form of ID whatsoever. Strange; a nuisance, but no longer a problem. Mum is coming over for dinner tonight, so I must tidy up a bit, make myself presentable, go out and buy food, and get cooking, amongst other things. She has told a few of her friends about me, who all send their love, and has told my gran, her mum, who said all the right things and just doesn’t have a problem. Now, she is 87, considerably older than my dad, but much less narrow-minded. I think her attitude towards this puts my dad to shame, though of course it’s not my place to say so. She told mum that she knows about such things and thinks we are all very brave and that I’m just lovely anyway, so she doesn’t have a problem with it. Maybe it’s a dad’s job to have problems with their kids, to question everything they do, to try to control everything…. But, whilst he does all that, I don’t see him making any serious attempt to understand it. Perhaps gran has seen a bit more daytime telly. I hope my mum points out gran’s open-mindedness to dad, not unimpressive for someone born in 1918… Being "old school", is no longer an excuse. A quick comment on some of your comments to my previous blog: I won’t be preparing a written statement for the benefit of the local gossips; politicians do that sort of thing, nor will I be relocating. Going to a different place doesn’t stop people talking, either here or there, and people talking does not bother me in the slightest, but one would be naïve not to anticipate it. Pippa is a man, shock, horror! Unlike me, Pip does both, very well I might add. It took me a while to get my head round it but I believe she is happy in either role, as long as she has some opportunity to express the female side occasionally. (A small irony that she becomes less of a father figure by adding "pa" to her name, but only a small one). It’s lovely to be out with my man, a happy couple, a semblance of normality, and great fun to be out with my bestest girlfriend, so I really don’t mind either way. To quote Pippa from her blog (Jan 23rd 2005), "Its not what you wear that makes you feel special, it’s how the people that matter to you see you. Lucy sees me as ME... drab or girl, it’s STILL me and that’s all that matters." You are indeed you, and that’s how I see you. Simply lovely. Right, one more choccy then breakfast… xx
    Jul 16, 2005 1001
  • 10 Jul 2005
    Life without love is like a tree without blossom or fruit I read that on a chocolate wrapper, it’s not going to take me long to eat the rest of them, mmm… So, today is our first anniversary, can you believe it? And Pippa’s been here all weekend to celebrate it with me, which we did in style, our own unique style of course. Last night we went out for dinner in Kendal, another first, Lucy has eaten out in various establishments across the country, but never in her home town. On the way to the restaurant I saw someone I know quite well, a guy I’ve worked with in bands on several occasions. He was in his van and he saw me, practically didn’t take his eyes off me in fact. I think he probably recognised me, but he didn’t wave or anything, so I can’t be sure. Anyway if he did the word will be out around town pretty soon, and if he didn’t well I really don’t care anyway. People are going to find out sooner or later so I’m just waiting for them to find out. Could be soon… It was quite a nice, cosy restaurant, in a compact and bijou sort of way, and it was quite busy so a little slow service, but they were all very nice to us. We had a nice bottle of Chardonnay and food that wasn’t bad, but wasn’t superb either. Still, it was nice not to have to cook, and nice to be taken out to dinner by my man, who is a perfect gentleman and is lovely and I love him. And he bought me chocolates too, mmm. You are wonderful babe. Did I say he was good in bed too? Oh I’m probably not supposed to, sorry. He’s also got an amazing talent for mending motorbikes with silver foil and bits of wire from my garden fence. I can’t believe it’s been a year, but it’s been a good one, and I’ve had the loveliest person to share it with, thanks babe. You are special. He makes a damn fine girl too. xx
    970 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Life without love is like a tree without blossom or fruit I read that on a chocolate wrapper, it’s not going to take me long to eat the rest of them, mmm… So, today is our first anniversary, can you believe it? And Pippa’s been here all weekend to celebrate it with me, which we did in style, our own unique style of course. Last night we went out for dinner in Kendal, another first, Lucy has eaten out in various establishments across the country, but never in her home town. On the way to the restaurant I saw someone I know quite well, a guy I’ve worked with in bands on several occasions. He was in his van and he saw me, practically didn’t take his eyes off me in fact. I think he probably recognised me, but he didn’t wave or anything, so I can’t be sure. Anyway if he did the word will be out around town pretty soon, and if he didn’t well I really don’t care anyway. People are going to find out sooner or later so I’m just waiting for them to find out. Could be soon… It was quite a nice, cosy restaurant, in a compact and bijou sort of way, and it was quite busy so a little slow service, but they were all very nice to us. We had a nice bottle of Chardonnay and food that wasn’t bad, but wasn’t superb either. Still, it was nice not to have to cook, and nice to be taken out to dinner by my man, who is a perfect gentleman and is lovely and I love him. And he bought me chocolates too, mmm. You are wonderful babe. Did I say he was good in bed too? Oh I’m probably not supposed to, sorry. He’s also got an amazing talent for mending motorbikes with silver foil and bits of wire from my garden fence. I can’t believe it’s been a year, but it’s been a good one, and I’ve had the loveliest person to share it with, thanks babe. You are special. He makes a damn fine girl too. xx
    Jul 10, 2005 970
  • 04 Jul 2005
    Independence day The first email I opened this morning informed me that I had won £1,500,000 on the Swiss lottery. Yeah right, cos I never forget to buy my Swiss lotto tickets… Bastards. I sent it on to a scam-reporting site saying, "Please find these people and throw them in jail". I read one story of a couple involved in a similar scam, who when trying to withdraw £20,000 were advised by the bank that they were being conned & they would never see this money again (supposedly needed to facilitate the release of "funds"). They refused to believe even the police who told them the same, but fortunately they were dissuaded from parting with their life savings at the last minute. Anyway such is the world today. What about my little world…? Well, no sooner had I got back from Sparkle when I received a call out of the blue from a very old friend who I hadn’t seen for 3 or 4 years, asking me if I’d like to join her and her boyfriend for the day at a forthcoming local music festival. Just a little one, this is only a little place. When you haven’t spoken to someone for 3 or 4 years there is sooo much to catch up on, and somehow it didn’t seem appropriate to tell them the really important news. It’s not easy at the best of times, but over the phone I just don’t think I can do it. So, I emailed her and said I would love to go but there is something I’d better tell them first… The little imp inside me would quite liked to have surprised them, just to see the look on their faces, but no, these are people who I care about and it’s not fair to shock people like that. Having agreed to go, it then struck me what I was about to do. Still only close friends and family know about my situation, even though I’m not actually hiding it any more. In the past I have probably been on stage or in the studio with every other musician in this town, so there was the potential for a lot of old faces to be present at such a local festival. Would they recognise me, could they miss me whilst I was tagging along with a somewhat larger than life character who had also been involved in the music scene? Would I be the talk of the town the next day? It’s not that I would really mind if I was, but I don’t believe in making life hard for myself, so I’m just trying to be a little discreet, keep life as quiet as possible for the time being at least, let things progress a little before becoming a bit more "in your face". I must admit it did get me thinking; one can’t fully appreciate the ins and outs of transitioning until one actually does it… Anyway into the unknown I stepped, a local festival for local people, thousands of them in fact, not as little as I’d expected, but I’d wager I was the only TS present. I counted 7 people who walked past who I would normally have spoken to, they didn’t seem to recognise me, (have I changed so much?) one even sat next to us and chatted to my friend. It was a guy I’d known for years but hadn’t seen for ages, my band played at his wedding reception and we were good mates for a long time, so I would have quite liked to have talked to him. But then again I didn’t really want to get into all that so I kept quiet, and he sat next to me for 5 minutes without noticing who I was, or hopefully what I was. There were others who walked by, just a few feet away, who I haven’t seen in only a few months, they didn’t notice me either. I think that keeping a low profile is one of my strong points. Had I stood up and said hello no doubt they would have, well, fallen over probably. It was great day; nice, but slightly weird to be out in my home town like that. We went to three pubs later in the evening (so far I’ve only been out shopping in the daytime here) which was even weirder. My god, Kendal girls have to be seen to be believed (not in a good way) and here I was, one of them… Kendal pubs can also be quite an experience, like the one in a 2-up 2-down terrace, the 2-down being the public bar and the toilet, both rooms together considerably smaller than my front room, which isn’t exactly big. We went into a fairly new bar which appeared to be a converted corridor, 2 tables one small bar and a 5-inch dartboard (really). The 3 of us half-filled the place, until a few minutes later a party of about 25 young, glamorous, good-looking girls came in. Oh my god. It was wall to wall with beautiful young women, plus me and my 2 friends. Scary. I did my best not to be noticed. I managed to get back in time to see the last few acts on Live-8. Pink Floyd really were better without Roger Waters; they had a better bass player and we didn’t have to listen to his miserable, manic-depressive, atonal vocals. But it was a cool gig just the same. IPL tomorrow, 3rd session, so I’m unshaven and in hiding. Time of the month… Pippa seems to have fixed her bike so I’m hoping for a visit this weekend. I suppose I’d better do some housework. My finger is still quite sore, I can bend it more but not grip, it hurts if I try to use it. My left hand has always been quite useless but I am going to have to get used to using it for such joyous tasks as dusting and hoovering and polishing… A friend of mine had a great poster in the 70’s, a rather glamorous and sexy young witch with broomstick, and the simple caption (in nice Gothic writing), "Fuck Housework". I want one. xx
    883 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Independence day The first email I opened this morning informed me that I had won £1,500,000 on the Swiss lottery. Yeah right, cos I never forget to buy my Swiss lotto tickets… Bastards. I sent it on to a scam-reporting site saying, "Please find these people and throw them in jail". I read one story of a couple involved in a similar scam, who when trying to withdraw £20,000 were advised by the bank that they were being conned & they would never see this money again (supposedly needed to facilitate the release of "funds"). They refused to believe even the police who told them the same, but fortunately they were dissuaded from parting with their life savings at the last minute. Anyway such is the world today. What about my little world…? Well, no sooner had I got back from Sparkle when I received a call out of the blue from a very old friend who I hadn’t seen for 3 or 4 years, asking me if I’d like to join her and her boyfriend for the day at a forthcoming local music festival. Just a little one, this is only a little place. When you haven’t spoken to someone for 3 or 4 years there is sooo much to catch up on, and somehow it didn’t seem appropriate to tell them the really important news. It’s not easy at the best of times, but over the phone I just don’t think I can do it. So, I emailed her and said I would love to go but there is something I’d better tell them first… The little imp inside me would quite liked to have surprised them, just to see the look on their faces, but no, these are people who I care about and it’s not fair to shock people like that. Having agreed to go, it then struck me what I was about to do. Still only close friends and family know about my situation, even though I’m not actually hiding it any more. In the past I have probably been on stage or in the studio with every other musician in this town, so there was the potential for a lot of old faces to be present at such a local festival. Would they recognise me, could they miss me whilst I was tagging along with a somewhat larger than life character who had also been involved in the music scene? Would I be the talk of the town the next day? It’s not that I would really mind if I was, but I don’t believe in making life hard for myself, so I’m just trying to be a little discreet, keep life as quiet as possible for the time being at least, let things progress a little before becoming a bit more "in your face". I must admit it did get me thinking; one can’t fully appreciate the ins and outs of transitioning until one actually does it… Anyway into the unknown I stepped, a local festival for local people, thousands of them in fact, not as little as I’d expected, but I’d wager I was the only TS present. I counted 7 people who walked past who I would normally have spoken to, they didn’t seem to recognise me, (have I changed so much?) one even sat next to us and chatted to my friend. It was a guy I’d known for years but hadn’t seen for ages, my band played at his wedding reception and we were good mates for a long time, so I would have quite liked to have talked to him. But then again I didn’t really want to get into all that so I kept quiet, and he sat next to me for 5 minutes without noticing who I was, or hopefully what I was. There were others who walked by, just a few feet away, who I haven’t seen in only a few months, they didn’t notice me either. I think that keeping a low profile is one of my strong points. Had I stood up and said hello no doubt they would have, well, fallen over probably. It was great day; nice, but slightly weird to be out in my home town like that. We went to three pubs later in the evening (so far I’ve only been out shopping in the daytime here) which was even weirder. My god, Kendal girls have to be seen to be believed (not in a good way) and here I was, one of them… Kendal pubs can also be quite an experience, like the one in a 2-up 2-down terrace, the 2-down being the public bar and the toilet, both rooms together considerably smaller than my front room, which isn’t exactly big. We went into a fairly new bar which appeared to be a converted corridor, 2 tables one small bar and a 5-inch dartboard (really). The 3 of us half-filled the place, until a few minutes later a party of about 25 young, glamorous, good-looking girls came in. Oh my god. It was wall to wall with beautiful young women, plus me and my 2 friends. Scary. I did my best not to be noticed. I managed to get back in time to see the last few acts on Live-8. Pink Floyd really were better without Roger Waters; they had a better bass player and we didn’t have to listen to his miserable, manic-depressive, atonal vocals. But it was a cool gig just the same. IPL tomorrow, 3rd session, so I’m unshaven and in hiding. Time of the month… Pippa seems to have fixed her bike so I’m hoping for a visit this weekend. I suppose I’d better do some housework. My finger is still quite sore, I can bend it more but not grip, it hurts if I try to use it. My left hand has always been quite useless but I am going to have to get used to using it for such joyous tasks as dusting and hoovering and polishing… A friend of mine had a great poster in the 70’s, a rather glamorous and sexy young witch with broomstick, and the simple caption (in nice Gothic writing), "Fuck Housework". I want one. xx
    Jul 04, 2005 883
  • 29 Jun 2005
    Sparkling lights So, Sparkle, it happened, woo hoo. I was proud to be there and be a small part of it all. Pip and I arrived mid-afternoon on Saturday, had a wander round and a coffee in Via Fosse whilst watching the world go by. A world apparently made up of mostly t-girls. I’ve never seen so many girls out in daylight, wonderful. It was a lovely atmosphere, families with children happily mingling amongst girls of all shapes and sizes, with no-one being gawked at. I saw a couple of obvious admirers who looked as though they had died and gone to heaven, hardly knowing where to look. This is how the world should be, transgendered people openly on the street, without them or anyone else being bothered about it. In years to come that’s how it will be, it will happen, but only if we make it. This event is a start, it may not have much impact in itself but I hope that out of it will grow more and more public awareness of our plight, and a better understanding of the wide and colourful transgender spectrum. Hiding in the dark will change nothing. I struggled to put my make up on in the evening, having hurt my hand when we arrived at the hotel. My rather heavy shoulder bag slipped off and almost took one of my fingers with it as it thumped to the floor. It hurt like hell, thought I might have broken it at first. If elephants had fingers this is what they would look like. Horrible. I cried. So, I could barely hold a pencil, couldn’t get my lippy even, lip-liner all wonky, eyes a mess, but it had to do. We finally got out the hotel and did the now familiar short walk to Canal Street. It wasn’t long before we’d met all the Trannyweb crowd, first time I’d met Clair and Anna-marie, a long time since we’d seen JJ, Chris, Fay, Kendra and Sammy, and not so long since we'd seen Cerys and Shan. Lovely to see you all, girls. After a couple of refreshing drinks we went wandering. Saw a bit of the band Elephant Shelf, who were very competent and sounded good, but only served to remind me of my elephant finger. I wasn’t in the mood for rhythm and blues, two 12-bars and that was enough for me. But as musicians it was our duty to check them out, and 2 of the band were trannies too, so they had to be worth a look. Anyway we wandered in and out of a few more places, ending up at Taurus with Shan, which was nice and quiet, so we sat and drank and got very silly, like we do. After a nightcap in the hotel bar Pip and I went up to our room, took our first pics of the evening, bit late really when we’re all smudged and sozzled, but we had to have some record of the evening. We stood and held each other by the window, naked in the gentle evening breeze, looking out at the lights, our little corner of the city. It was very romantic, Paris would have been better, but it was lovely just the same. The window didn’t close (again) and the trams woke us up at 5am, but it was lovely to be there on a special day, with my special person. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. xx
    934 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Sparkling lights So, Sparkle, it happened, woo hoo. I was proud to be there and be a small part of it all. Pip and I arrived mid-afternoon on Saturday, had a wander round and a coffee in Via Fosse whilst watching the world go by. A world apparently made up of mostly t-girls. I’ve never seen so many girls out in daylight, wonderful. It was a lovely atmosphere, families with children happily mingling amongst girls of all shapes and sizes, with no-one being gawked at. I saw a couple of obvious admirers who looked as though they had died and gone to heaven, hardly knowing where to look. This is how the world should be, transgendered people openly on the street, without them or anyone else being bothered about it. In years to come that’s how it will be, it will happen, but only if we make it. This event is a start, it may not have much impact in itself but I hope that out of it will grow more and more public awareness of our plight, and a better understanding of the wide and colourful transgender spectrum. Hiding in the dark will change nothing. I struggled to put my make up on in the evening, having hurt my hand when we arrived at the hotel. My rather heavy shoulder bag slipped off and almost took one of my fingers with it as it thumped to the floor. It hurt like hell, thought I might have broken it at first. If elephants had fingers this is what they would look like. Horrible. I cried. So, I could barely hold a pencil, couldn’t get my lippy even, lip-liner all wonky, eyes a mess, but it had to do. We finally got out the hotel and did the now familiar short walk to Canal Street. It wasn’t long before we’d met all the Trannyweb crowd, first time I’d met Clair and Anna-marie, a long time since we’d seen JJ, Chris, Fay, Kendra and Sammy, and not so long since we'd seen Cerys and Shan. Lovely to see you all, girls. After a couple of refreshing drinks we went wandering. Saw a bit of the band Elephant Shelf, who were very competent and sounded good, but only served to remind me of my elephant finger. I wasn’t in the mood for rhythm and blues, two 12-bars and that was enough for me. But as musicians it was our duty to check them out, and 2 of the band were trannies too, so they had to be worth a look. Anyway we wandered in and out of a few more places, ending up at Taurus with Shan, which was nice and quiet, so we sat and drank and got very silly, like we do. After a nightcap in the hotel bar Pip and I went up to our room, took our first pics of the evening, bit late really when we’re all smudged and sozzled, but we had to have some record of the evening. We stood and held each other by the window, naked in the gentle evening breeze, looking out at the lights, our little corner of the city. It was very romantic, Paris would have been better, but it was lovely just the same. The window didn’t close (again) and the trams woke us up at 5am, but it was lovely to be there on a special day, with my special person. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. xx
    Jun 29, 2005 934
  • 16 Jun 2005
    Strawberry fields forever I hadn’t been up long this morning when the phone rang… "Hello?" "Hello can I speak to Fred please?" (Reluctantly:) "Er, speaking" "Oh hello it’s (name unclear) from the gender clinic" (Surprised pause) "Oh HELLO!" They’d just received my completed questionnaire and change of name deed, and for some reason were asking that I get a solicitor to sign the deed. Of course I didn’t argue, it would be no problem. It’s a bit of a nuisance though, and a little odd. My deed is a perfectly legal document and yesterday I went to my GP’s and used it to change the name on my medical records, but the gender clinic in their wisdom require a solicitor’s signature in order to change the name on their records, what difference that makes I don’t know. So I rang a solicitor, the only one I’ve ever used, when I bought my house about 15 years ago. They want me to come in with ID and hopefully it should be no problem. There was a surprised pause there too when I gave my name: "… how are you spelling Lucy?" I guess I still have a lot of work to do on my voice. Something tells me dealing with Charing Cross will involve jumping through lots of hoops. Officially changing your name may be simple but getting anyone to recognise it is less so. I mean, anyone can register with any online store, using any name they please, and with no requirement to produce evidence of ID, but change that name and they start tying knots with red tape. Paypal are the worst so far, requiring not only the name change deed, but a copy of my passport or driver’s license. And of course most of these places require something in writing. For all these online stores and stuff it may be easier just to open a new account using my new name, will save a lot of time and postage stamps anyway. They take your word for it when you register, why can’t they do so when you change your details? Top marks go to T-mobile, who send the most courteous emails one could possibly imagine, and who have readily changed the name on my account without question. So I’m in admin mode at the moment, with a long list of things to do, people to write to, copies required etc, and am having to juggle my various ID documents around. When I get my new ID pic signed I can then get a new driver’s license, which I can then use to get a new passport, and so on. Doing all this would be a lot easier if I still worked in an office, having access to paper, printers, copiers and so on. I’ve had to get used to using a pen again, weird. Anyone got a printer they don’t want? My handwriting is not very elegant, looks like a drunken spider has fallen in some ink and crawled across the page. Anyway, I took the opportunity this morning to ask the nice lady from the gender clinic if she had any idea how long I would have to wait, "It shouldn’t be too long…" exactly the response I expected. No doubt I will have to confirm my appointment in triplicate and send them a recent photo with testimonials from a police constable and a magistrate that I am who I say I am and am of sound mind. Or maybe they will attempt to judge the state of my mind for themselves. That should be fun. Though I am of course, completely normal... Footnotes: I have been asked to make it absolutely clear that I am not, nor ever have been called Fred. As far as bloke names go mine was fine, and I never would have changed it had I not actually been a woman. It must be a local thing; you don’t know someone’s name – you call them Fred. My hands are like shovels, as I’m sure you have noticed, Cerys. Anyone who thinks my strawberries are crap need not expect to be served organically produced fresh fruit picked straight from the garden when they visit my house. Fruit that has indeed been nurtured by Lucy’s loving shovels. I mean hands. Furthermore, fruit that would probably be the best you had ever had the chance to taste had you not been such a sarcastic old cow. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Looks like I may be having a bumper crop of pears this year, I will be taking photo’s of them too, along with my lovely sweet red apples, which happen to be called "Katie", each and every one. Anyway, it’s down the apples and pears for me, I need a strawberry fix. xx
    962 Posted by Lucy Diamond
  • Strawberry fields forever I hadn’t been up long this morning when the phone rang… "Hello?" "Hello can I speak to Fred please?" (Reluctantly:) "Er, speaking" "Oh hello it’s (name unclear) from the gender clinic" (Surprised pause) "Oh HELLO!" They’d just received my completed questionnaire and change of name deed, and for some reason were asking that I get a solicitor to sign the deed. Of course I didn’t argue, it would be no problem. It’s a bit of a nuisance though, and a little odd. My deed is a perfectly legal document and yesterday I went to my GP’s and used it to change the name on my medical records, but the gender clinic in their wisdom require a solicitor’s signature in order to change the name on their records, what difference that makes I don’t know. So I rang a solicitor, the only one I’ve ever used, when I bought my house about 15 years ago. They want me to come in with ID and hopefully it should be no problem. There was a surprised pause there too when I gave my name: "… how are you spelling Lucy?" I guess I still have a lot of work to do on my voice. Something tells me dealing with Charing Cross will involve jumping through lots of hoops. Officially changing your name may be simple but getting anyone to recognise it is less so. I mean, anyone can register with any online store, using any name they please, and with no requirement to produce evidence of ID, but change that name and they start tying knots with red tape. Paypal are the worst so far, requiring not only the name change deed, but a copy of my passport or driver’s license. And of course most of these places require something in writing. For all these online stores and stuff it may be easier just to open a new account using my new name, will save a lot of time and postage stamps anyway. They take your word for it when you register, why can’t they do so when you change your details? Top marks go to T-mobile, who send the most courteous emails one could possibly imagine, and who have readily changed the name on my account without question. So I’m in admin mode at the moment, with a long list of things to do, people to write to, copies required etc, and am having to juggle my various ID documents around. When I get my new ID pic signed I can then get a new driver’s license, which I can then use to get a new passport, and so on. Doing all this would be a lot easier if I still worked in an office, having access to paper, printers, copiers and so on. I’ve had to get used to using a pen again, weird. Anyone got a printer they don’t want? My handwriting is not very elegant, looks like a drunken spider has fallen in some ink and crawled across the page. Anyway, I took the opportunity this morning to ask the nice lady from the gender clinic if she had any idea how long I would have to wait, "It shouldn’t be too long…" exactly the response I expected. No doubt I will have to confirm my appointment in triplicate and send them a recent photo with testimonials from a police constable and a magistrate that I am who I say I am and am of sound mind. Or maybe they will attempt to judge the state of my mind for themselves. That should be fun. Though I am of course, completely normal... Footnotes: I have been asked to make it absolutely clear that I am not, nor ever have been called Fred. As far as bloke names go mine was fine, and I never would have changed it had I not actually been a woman. It must be a local thing; you don’t know someone’s name – you call them Fred. My hands are like shovels, as I’m sure you have noticed, Cerys. Anyone who thinks my strawberries are crap need not expect to be served organically produced fresh fruit picked straight from the garden when they visit my house. Fruit that has indeed been nurtured by Lucy’s loving shovels. I mean hands. Furthermore, fruit that would probably be the best you had ever had the chance to taste had you not been such a sarcastic old cow. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Looks like I may be having a bumper crop of pears this year, I will be taking photo’s of them too, along with my lovely sweet red apples, which happen to be called "Katie", each and every one. Anyway, it’s down the apples and pears for me, I need a strawberry fix. xx
    Jun 16, 2005 962