Womanising

Today is Thursday, so it must be Southport. Right now I’m tapping this out in the smallest hotel room in the Northern Hemisphere.

I am here to attend Unison’s Women’s Conference for the first time. No big deal in the scheme of things, I suppose. For me, things are never that easy. I was unsure about attending. Not because I thought I shouldn’t. As a woman member, I am absolutely entitled too. Its more about Me, Myself and My. My own perceptions of who I am. I do, self identify as woman. I do live as a woman. I walk, run, swim, sleep and breathe as a woman. But when push comes to a shovel, do I deeply feel as other women do?

Back on a Trans Community forum, buried away in the net, my blogging pal Penny posed the question “What gender do you think you are?” with an attached survey. There were some interesting replies, and it got me thinking (never a good idea). You see, I maintain that I am a woman, but don’t claim to always have been one. I squirm a bit when read the old chestnut “I was a woman trapped in a mans body”, although I do subscribe to the belief that I’m a gorgeous thin girl, trapped in a fat bird’s body (actually at least 3 thin girls!). You see, for me, I absolutely can’t say I feel and think as other women do, because I don’t know how other women feel and think. Just as I can’t know how any man, cat, dog, fish or mattress feels (although mattresses actually flollop (enough of the hitchhikers references already!!)). All I know, is that living as a woman right now, and eventually, NHS permitting, will have most of the right kit for a woman, just plain works for me. This peg has found her square hole.

Now back to my slight unease at attending Unison’s women’s conference. It was not because I thought there may be any flutterings of transphobia. Far from it. Everyone is really welcoming and I have already bumped into a dozen old friends. No, my slight reticence was the question that as I sat there, would I inwardly feel like an outsider? Would I sit listening to the motions on women’s, equality, empowerment and health matters, and somehow think that they just didn’t apply to me? Would I feel that my lack of a shared experience, growing and blossoming into womanhood, set me apart? Would I feel a stranger on home ground ? Thankfully, the answer was No on all accounts. From the moment I arrived, I belonged. The truth is, this public assertion of my woman-ness raised my self acceptance to its highest level yet. Am I glad I came ? Damn right I am !

All this soul searching aside, I still found time to take a few snaps on a cold, Thursday, Southport evening

View Full Album

Oh, and what about my teeny, tiny windowless hotel room.

Jenny is 41

 

But only 5 in born again woman years

This is in no way a cheap and tawdry attempt to garner Happy Birthday comments

Spiced Ham

The following email found its way past my firewall, anti spam filter and junk mail box. . Of course my junk mail box contains dozens of such emails, but the persistence of this one worming its way through makes it worthy of attention, so I figured it ought to give it the courteousy  of a reply, and who couldn't do with another million dollars.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Attn My Dear‏

From:
Peter Mike (PeterMike@yahoo.com)

You may not know this sender.Mark as safe|Mark as unsafe

Sent:
14 February 2009 02:52:15

To:
jenny.2000@hotmail.co.uk

Attn My Dear
We have arranged your payment of ($1.5Million) One Million five hundred thousand united state dollars Previously in ATM payment card to be sent to you through western union money transfer payment: Your payment will sent to you by western union The amount you will receive per day is $5000 The minister trust funds and IMF boards of Benin Republic will send you the current standard track details you will need to pick up your ($5000) payment by western union you will receive every day till you receive the $1.5Million united state dollars now no need to send you this ATM card because you can not be able to withdraw the ATM card due to the atm master card contain large money on it The director administrtor trust funds has already signed your payment now you are free to comply with wemaco payment office on this email (western_union004@hotmail.fr) however kindly contact the below person who is in position to release your payment by western union per $5000 a day TONY NNAMDI western !
union department Telphone (+229 9842 8092) E-mai (western_union004@hotmail.fr) The financial western union payment center has been mandated to issue out your payment and you have to stop any further communication with any other person (s) or office (s) to avoid any hitches in receiving your payment. Note that the administrator payment need this details from you to process your payment and the only money you will pay is the processing and administration fee which is only $135 usd before you will start receiving your fund. Receiver
name---------------
Country---------------------
City------------------------
Tel-------------------------
Test question---------------
Answer----------------------
Comply now because as soon as you send this required details to MR TONY NNAMDI he will start sending your payment by western
union.
Regards Senator
Peter Mike

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From:
Jenny Harvey(jenny.2000@hotmail.co.uk)

Sent:
14 February 2009 02:52:15

To:

Peter Mike (PeterMike@conartist.com)

Dear Senator Mike or is it Senator Peter

Thank you so much for the arrangement to pay me (£1.5Million) One Million five hundred thousand united state dollars. The money is very timely as I have a car to MOT, so this might just cover the bill (unless my wheels need tracking).

I am a long standing supporter of Benin Republic and all thing Beninian. Unlike Nigeria, from where I constantly receive pointless, irritating, inbox filling, scamming spam emails, all offering me huge sums of money. Would you please pass on my gratitude to Mr NNAMADI, and could you ask him if he is the same Mr NNamadi that I met over drinks at a New Year's Benin consulate do. I remember we shared a ripe joke at the expense of the Togo ambassador, and ask him what he thought about the quality of the vol-au-vents, which I felt well below par.

The arrangements for you to receive my $135 usd administration fee are as follows. There will be an administration/handling/conning fee of $235 usd to be paid before you receive your fee. The fee will need to be paid in Altarian Dollars or Triganic Pu (bearing in mind the size of the envelope needed).  Could you please contact my administrator by email(jerry.harvey@madeup.co.uk) or Telphone (+5318008 or +5407708) I suggest these phone numbers are best entered on an upside down calculator.

I note that you intend to send me £5000 per day. On that basis it will take 300 days for me to receive the full amount. We will also have take weekends into consideration because our local Western Union does not open on a Sunday and Saturday mornings are taken up with composing facetious blog posts. This would increase the payment period to 386 days. We also have 8 bank holidays and at least 10 days per year when its just too darn snowy, so lets call the whole thing 400 days. I believe that this is an unreasonably protracted period in which to settle this account, so I request that you contact me at your earliest convenience to arrange a more appropriate payment plan. I would be grateful if you could fill in the income/expenditure attachment so we can asses your ability to pay.

Comply now because as soon as you provide the required details, I will straight away shred them and give to my friends daughter to be used as Rabbit hutch flooring.

Regards Senatess

Harvey Jenny

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I have also replied to a number of other emails and am looking forward to receiving my penis extension, blue pills, and a total of 4.5 trillion dollars. I have also managed to reactivate my accounts with all of the major banks and building societies .

 

Addendum.... I have just had a thought. Wasn't Mike Peters the lead singer of U2 lite , Welsh 80's band The Alarm

The Pack Unleashed

Well my brief flirt with fame in our local paper, produced a unexpected minor flurry of press interest.

Three journalists found there way to me via three different routes.

First of the mark was Dan from a press agency in Birmingham, who tracked down my office phone number. I guess it was through my union details and he cleed me just minutes after the paper had hit the stands.

Dan wondered if I was interested in telling my story to a national paper. He seemed to think ,my being a Trade Unionist was an angle, as the Union movement is perceived to be the domain of gruff middle aged men (this is certainly not the case in my union). Anyhow, he left me his number and said sleep on it. Must admit I was not really keen to get into the national press. Of course,, if the Guardian, Observer or Independent wanted to do an in depth piece then I would jump at the chance, but to be honest they will not be interested in my small story. As for the rest, well the tabloids would only trot out a cliched exploitation piece and as for the Mail or Express. Well, a full time, Transgendered,, NHS Trade Unionist, is pretty much everything they stand against.

I can hear their readers now, hurrumphing, over their indignant letters.

So all in all I think talking to the national press would be about as bad a move I could make. To be honest I can't see that they would be interested in my story anyway. Its not really newsy.

Second up, was a lovely lady called Nicki, from my second favourite city Liverpool. She got in touch by emailing me from the link to my blog on the sentinel web page. She was really polite and said she was a freelance journalist who wrote for many of the women's magazines. Now a magazine feature would be more attractive for 3 reasons. 1 ) There may be more space to say something. 2) I would be able to have a little more control over the article 3) errr cash !! Another plus was that she was looking to write the article herself and we struck up a good rapport on the phone. She did seem genuinely interested in what I had to say

So not wanting to rule anything out or in, I let her waltz off and tout my synopsis around and about. She hasn't got back to me at the moment so I guess she drew a blank.

Third out of the blocks was a mysterious un addressed envelope on my doorstep the next day. Now an unmarked unsolicited hand delivered letter usually fills me with foreboding, but on opening it it was from a news agency based in Bristol. They must be keen, I thought because they had snooped my, address and then faxed the letter up here to be hand delivered. So I thought I ought to give them a call. I spoke to a bubbly feature writer called Lauren. She was very positive that she would get some offers. So again I didn't rule anything in or out.

Well over the next few days there was an snowballing or emails between this news agency and myself. Must admit, as time went on, I went cooler on the whole thing. It seemed any magazines, interested would be of the weekly type, that wouldn't give much space to say anything new. Secondly and more concerning, they seemed more and more interested in focusing on my marriage, which wasn't really the point. They were insistent on photos of my  ex wife, and the old me. It became very clear that most of these magazines just wanted to roll out another "sex swap" marriage breakdown story from the wife's point of view. This really disappointed me.

Putting the story over this way, could be seen, not to respect me as a woman. The story becomes the woman, and her sex change husband. It becomes a cliche that marginalizes me, and in some way treats me as sub woman. Treats me as not like their readers. The reason I agreed to the local paper feature in the first place, was that it was for the women's section, and the odd tabloidy phrase aside, it respected and accepted me as a woman. The article that these magazines seemed to want, would almost do the opposite. I am not saying that they would deliberately set out to be unsupportive in their copy, but the laziness of not thinking beyond what has been written a thousand times before, and their obvious ignorance of the issues for transgendered women would result in something that may just reinforce prejudices.

So I have said that neither Caroline or myself would be interested in such an article. That left one offer still on the coffee table. Chat magazine were looking to do an article from my viewpoint, and to include my experience of transitioning at work. Of course it is to Chat's credit that they see the point of what I would say, but to be honest I'm not sure there would be enough space given over to do anything beyond what was in the local paper. I haven't ruled this out yet, but at the moment I'm as cold as tonight's air. Of course wodges of cash in a bulging brown envelope could always warm me up somewhat.

For all my protestations at media's inability to grasp a different message, I'm as shallow as Z-list wannabe in a paddling pool.

Pointless A to Z blog photo project thingy

I've been lulled into participating in a thing by a young blogging marketing student ( but don't hold that against him), called Charlie.

The pointlessness is on that each day in February I have to snap something relating to that day's letter 1st=A, 2nd=B and so on and on and send them to him, along with the other feckless, time-wasting bloggers. There are actually some very good pics on there

Not sure what to do on 27th and 28th though.

I've managed it so far, but today is K and I'm struggling. My problem is that I have accidentally found a theme of pictures of commercial signeage or advertising. Don't know how this happened. Being anal, I amnow  loathed to divert from this pointless and quite dull theme, even though my first 2 pics had no theme at all. Any suggestions for forthcoming days much appreciated. K is for .......

 

 

 

The first 2 A for lack of Ambition and B for Bottle Kiln were un stressful, un thematic! and very poor!

I do need (I really dont' need!) to revisit these.

 

C for Claptrap                    D for Discount Diver           E for an Elephant with the Room

 

  

F for Faded Ferodo                             G for Gender Gap                         H for Happy Hoarder

I for Iggymonimy                             J for Just the Initials

 

I really do have better things to do right now. Just can't think of any of them right now.

Oh heck, Q, X and Z are still to come, and the letter W has always been the bane of my life!

Infamy, Infamy, They all got it in for me

I've had a week in the spotlight. Actually spotlight is overstating it. More like table lamp with a 40 Watt bulb ! (not sure what the Ecco bulb equivalent is), that is not plugged in!

The article in the local paper (I think I might have mentioned it !!) has provided me with a strange and somewhat uneasy week. I know in the scheme of media things its a very small deal indeed, but the thought that 60,000 (thanks bro. for the circulation figures) people in my area have read such personal details left me feeling slightly uneasy. From a life point, where I went about my business mostly unnoticed and fairly relaxed, I have had a reoccurrence of those old neurosies from my first outings as Jen. For instance if someone reads me as being Trans, they may not say anything for fear of being mistaken. Now there is the chance that If I am recognised, they will know exactly the status of my transition. So from a position that any unwanted attention or comments were as unlikely as to be unconsidered, I now have my radar turned back on. Of course, these feelings may say as much about my inner imbed insecurities and the brittleness of my outward confidence, as anything else.

I have been recognised twice as a result of the article. I would love to say it was while in Harvey Nicks or some fashionable Nightspot, but it was all much less glamorous, but suitably Stokeish. The first time was at the Deli counter in Tescos. "Are you the lady out of the Sentinel", the assistant asked. I laughed it off self consciously, saying it was my better looking twin. "Well I thought it was a really nice article", she said. "Thanks" I replied " errrr 6 slices of Haslet* please".

The second time was even more mundane, and didn't involve any exotic meat products. While at the till in the local Co-oP I was buying un unflattering list of items. XXL Chiffon Tights, Tinned Mushrooms, and Mouthwash. The till lady remarked that she had seen me in the paper, and this time I my response was a bit more gracious, and I chatted to her for a few moments about being transgendered, which I guess was the whole point of the endeavour.

While trying to take this local notoriety in my nonchalant stride, and appearing not to be bothered, I have been regularly checking the Sentinel web page for comments. Vanity is as Vanity does.

There have only been 1 or 2 negative comments, although any abusive ones are swiftly removed. In some ways its a pity, because they say more about the author than they do anything else.  One called me a freak, which could be seen as fair comment! Better a freak though than a narrow minded idiot. As Brian said in Life of Brian "We are all different".

I did have one comment that nearly brought a wonky tear to my wonky eye, especially the last sentence. If I ever come to regret what I did, I will try and think of Stewart's comment

______________________________________

Jenny - given the hostility you have undoubtedly endured throughout your life, you will probably be surprised to read this comment from me because I tick all the wrong boxes!
I am a pensioner (just!). I have served in Northern Ireland (quite late in my army career). I drink far too many pints than is good for my health on a nightly basis, have been in one or two scraps (I'm embarrassed to say) and play darts and bridge with my old mates at our favourite pub.
But I admire you Jenny, not only for having the courage to be yourself (why should anybody need courage to do that!?!), but for being so ruddy brave!
That somebody would wilfully adopt a way of life they know would attract such hostility in an unfair world like ours, not only demonstrates how trapped they must really have felt before, but indicates an amazing strength of character just to go through such a transition.
I wonder how many transgendered men - and women! - feel unable to do so, and how many will be helped by stories like this with such a positive role model as yourself?
You look great Jenny, and if you were one of my children, I would be proud to call you my daughter. Very proud indeed!

Stuart Edwards, Trentham

Report abuse

commented on 06-Feb-2009 13:06

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I have tried not to let fame change me, although I do now have a few new demands:

• All media requests must go through PR guru Max Clifford... or if not via a flyer in any reputable local kebab house.
• I will now, not get out of bed for less than 4 double Sausage and Cheese Oatcakes**
• No one should look me directly in the eye (either one!). I have borrowed this from Tom Cruise.
• My dressing room needs to be painted completely and utterly black. As black as a Hotblack Desatio space ship***.

My rider will consist of :

• 2¼ kg of Smarties with exactly equal numbers of each colour, except yellow.
• 4 Double Cheese Oatcakes cut into dodecahedrons.
• Spangles, Marathons, Minstrells and Opal Fruit or any other sweet names of my youth.
• Hugh Jackman
• Cake

* Haslet is a herb pork meatloaf from Lincolnshire, mmmmmmmm. **Oatcakes are the food of the gods, delicacy of North Staffs (not to be confused with inferior Derbyshire oatcakes, or those odd Scottish imposters). *** See Restaurant at the end of the universe, by Douglas Adams

The post title is of course from the epic Carry On Cleo

Tomorrow's Chip Wrapper

Well today came and went. Just your average snowy day in Stoke....Except somehow I've found my mug plastered on the front on the local newspaper. ( I may have mentioned this about 50 times already)

I woke with trepidation and alarm, though the later was courteousy of my mobile phone. I new the feature on me was due to be published today and my short video interview was to be on the web site.

I entered the Coop supermarket with a forced casualness, and walked over to the newsstand. There on the front of the topmost copy of the paper is my mug alongside the masthead. with the tagline "I FEEL MORE NORMAL AS A WOMAN". It's a crap quote as I think normal is an absolute, but I did say it. On the scale of 1 to 100 in cringiness, buying a newspaper with you face on the front ranks at 97. I bought 2 copies and folded them front to back so as to hide my picture, forsake someone thought I was only buying them to read about myself. Which of course I was.

My reaction to the article so far has ranged through horror, annoyance, self satisfaction, nonchalance, pride, embarrassment, vanity, petulance, acceptance and hunger. Although the last one is due to skipping breakfast.

Everyone had been positive about it, but I feel frustrated that I didn't end up saying something more meaningful and I have been a bit picky about some of the finer points. One particular bugbear is the fact of my weight. Now I mentioned to the reporter that I had to lose a significant amount of weight to be referred for Gender Reassignment Surgery. I mentioned that I had been nearly 30 stone and had lost over 6 ½ so far. All that was said was that I was well over 20 stone and no mention of my weight loss. So great, the only reason I declared my weight to the populous of Stoke was to demonstrate my weight loss commitment. On top of that they knocked 2" off my height, so I am now to everyone squatter and fatter. Still it was never going to be my dating profile. To be fair to the reporter the article is well put together and is a positive take on the old story. It's interesting to note that the thing that seems to have bothered my parents most is the fact that I underplayed my 'O' levels! (It didn't even mention my 'ology). Anyway if you are bored enough to want a gander then you can read the whole shebang on The Sentinel's web site at here.

The video from the web site is another matter. I have never been filmed before, so had no real idea how I would come across. The filmer and editor Martin has performed miracles to make something vaguely intelligible from my machine gun waffle. I just wish I had done one or two things differently. My hair, My Makeup, My Outfit, My stupid big hands, My stupid big gazing out of the window, My stupid big waddle along the canal. and most of all my voice, which is a cross between George from Rainbow and Brian Blessed. Apart from these minor points , oh and the words I used too. Apart from all this my performance is a huge tour de force.

Checking the article online this evening (like I haven't checked it a thousand times already), I discovered that my bit had created some comment. Most of it was supportive though one comment caught my eye.

_______________________________

I think this is an absolute disgrace. Not only is this persons behavior kept in privicey of their own for walls but also is a union representative. this is just another factor why Britain is on a slippery slope down into oblivion.

m. davies, blythe bridge

Report abuse

commented on 03-Feb-2009 14:46

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I think m.davies is very insightful. My behaviour kept in privicey of my own for walls is a disgrace. I have been known to wash coloureds and whites together, leave the top off the toothpaste and once ate a whole packet of Cadburry's fingers in one go (actually more than once).

Still lets all enjoy the slide to oblivion together.....WWWWEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

His Girl Monday

Today my one woman bid for world media domination continued. The esteemed organ that is the North Staffs Evening Sentinel had asked if I was prepared to do a short video interview to go with the feature that is in Tomorrows paper. Well, "in for a penny in for a pound" (or 322 pounds in my case), so braving the early morning mix of traffic and snow, I arrived promptly at the Stoke's own Wapping, their large HQ on Festival Park.

The videoer (clumsy word) soon arrived, a bustling young man called Martin, for now to be known as Martin "Spielburg". Equipment under arm, he escorted me to my fate in the Board Room. After a brief discussion, where I suggested my best angle was to be filmed from at least 200 yards, in the dark and behind a screen, he relaxed me down in a chair and trained his camera on me. He sat opposite and played the part of the interviewer. I tried to look at Martin "Parkinson" as I answered, but the camera kept drawing my gaze like a wannabe celeb to a paparazzi. I had been given an idea about what he was going to ask, and last night I had mentally prepared some hilarious anecdotes, pithy sound-bites, and searing insight. That all went straight out of the window and under pressure I bumbled and waffled at an unintelligibly fast speed. I do hope he has some good editing software.

After a few minutes the ordeal was over, or so I thought. Martin "Ford Coppola" wanted more, and asked to film me gazing out of the window, as if wistfully contemplating life. Apparently this was to paper over the edits, that were now obviously necessary. He then suggested we should do some establishing shots along the canal side, so we slip slided our way down to the tow path.  Martin "Scorsese" (oooo that works !), directed me in an action packed stroll along a freezing Trent & Mersey canal. Well, I just about managed the task of putting one foot in front of the other without falling head over high heels, although his direction that I should naturally glance around me as I walk was met with me jerking my head around, like I was being buzzed by a bothersome bee. I did offer to do a sidesplitting slapstick fall into the canal, to earn us 250 quid on You've Been Framed, but he thankfully declined. I must add seriously, that Martin was lovely and made me feel really at ease, so thank you.

Finished up, I was disappointed at the lack of a wrap party for our opus, and was about to go when informed that The Sentinel's own Woodward of the NHS (or was it Bernstein), Dave, wanted a word and probably a quote from me about another "cheery" NHS story. So at that, I was led into the Heart of Darkness, the Belly of the Beast, the press room. It was a disappointingly calm and efficient place, more like you're everyday Insurance office. There was a distinct lack of editors ranting about deadlines, or sozzled hacks hunched over typewriters. Not even one measly shout of "Hold the Front Page". Before I departed I did disconcert everyone somewhat, by insisting on taking some pics for my blog, while  pompously declaring that "we are all in the same business really".

I am genuinely dreading tomorrow's publication. Even if I could buy up every single copy of the paper it will be difficult stopping people seeing the video on their web site. What's done is done. Hmmm I wonder how much it will cost for a standby flight to Brazil  

I have just realised that the image on the PC screen, is in fact the old me!!