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I Am Not A Morning Person

I woke early one morning.
The earth lay cold and still,
When suddenly a tiny bird,
Perched on my window sill.
He sang a song so lovely,
A song so free and gay,
That slowly all my troubles,
Began to slip away.
He sang of far off places,
Of laughter and of fun.
It seemed his very trilling,
Brought up the morning sun.
I stirred beneath the covers,
Crept slowly out of bed,
Then gently closed the window,
And crushed his fucking head.

Anon.

Once again it has reached stupid o’clock without my realising it. I have been engaging in my favorite pastime of “pottering around”, which today has mainly consisted of reading a couple of books and listening to music and when I have looked up and seen a clock I have realised yet more hours of my life have been stolen away from me.

I say stolen, but I am unlikely to have spent them more productively than I have after all I have listened to some Bach, the new album by KT Tunstall, which isn’t bad for someone who calls themself KT instead of Katy, Katie or some other variant but proper spelling.

People always comment on how nice it is to see the dawn and whilst it can be nice I have come to loate it a little as it is normally the increase in light and the sound of the gulls that alert me to the fact that I should be asleep and not doing what ever it is I am doing at that point. My body clock has been like this now for years, I can hardly ever remember a time when I used to regularly go to bed the same day as I woke up, but I can clearly remember the last time I went without sleep for a couple of days without realising it. I only realised it on that occasion as I suddenly thought to myself it is time to eat as I hadn’t eaten for a while and when I thought about it I realised I had not eaten for 2 days or slept for 3.

Anyways I am off to bed now to try and go to sleep with the soothing sound of birds singing to ease my into gentle slumbers.

At the weekend I had the pleasure of working as a photographer at the Portsmouth Student’s Union Graduation Ball and photograph the likes of the Thrills and Trevor Nelson, as a part of the proceedings I was asked if I wanted to be in a photo myself and as it was an attractive girl asking to be photographed with me I naturally said yes.

The result is the photograph to the left and I look awful, while I knew I carried a little extra weight I didn’t realise it was quite that much. I can deal with having a double chin however as I kind of knew it already and I can do something about it and lose a little of the excess weight I am carrying.

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Everyone is known for something amongst the people that know them, whether it be just the nickname they have been given or the way they dress they have an image.

Image is a powerful thing and it can be difficult to shake particularly if you want to shake it, from just being used to acting that way and reverting whenever you stop thinking about how you are acting, due to the persistence of the people around you.

I am known for a couple of things and I have got used to being on a night out and being asked where my camera was, even if it was a venue I had never worked before. In a recent game where the idea was to describe the person ahead of you I had the following songs suggested to describe me:

Man, I Feel Like a Woman
Brown Eyed Girl
Lady in Red
Lola
Strange Little Girl
Pretty Woman
I’m Just A Girl
Killer Queen….

Am I being paranoid or is there a pattern emerging? And this is from a place where although known for cross-dressing I have only done it once in the past 6 months there, it would seem I will forever (or at least for a while) be known for that above all else.

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A couple of weeks ago I wrote an article called, “What is it about a man in a dress?“ and I gained a little insight into myself and my fondness for dressing up at the weekend, due to working with a drag queen by the name of Miss Chardonnay.

It appears I am not a drag queen at all and that I would be better classed as a (bad) female impersonator.

I say this based on the differences between myself and Rhys and our attitudes about our alter egos and how we create them. Miss Chardonnay in many respects is a gobby and seemingly less intelligent Lily Savage who people find quite intimidating and daunting, this is a response while I have experienced it myself I have not seen to such a great extent for although I go up to people etc I would say I am not so uncouth about it and that I try to act like a normal person rather than a drag queen so to speak.

The differences are more than just the way we act though it is also what we do to prepare ourselves; he uses tights and would never consider waxing his legs for it. This in contrast to me who if I am planning to do it prefer to have my pins on show with them silky smooth and open for admiration. His response when I asked him if he did things like that was one of “no way I am a drag queen, not a female impersonator”. Now I suppose there are differences but to be honest like me, he isn’t ever really likely to be mistaken for a woman, well not unless someone needs stronger glasses than me. His assertion about this however surprised me and it seemed to be to me that it was an assertion of his masculinity and that he would never want to be considered feminine and perhaps this is why drag queens are commonly more grotesque than feminine as despite relaxed attitudes to some areas they still feel the need to establish they are not actually women as opposed to people who actually desire to be recognised as women.

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Well the weekend is over and I have recovered at least partially from it. A ridiculously high number of photos and ludicrously low amount of sleep, but it was worth it. From chatting to drunks at 5am on a sunday morning outside Portsmouth and Southsea train station to winding up wandering around at a ball in a sequined hat and tails it was slightly more random than expected.

The graduation ball is where it all kicked off, I was asked if I minded sharing my workspace with a drag queen they had in for the night, given my own tendancies I had no hesitation in agreeing to that one and I immediatly went to introduce myself, the result being 10 minutes wearing a black wig I personally would have chosen a more apt name.

After getting home from the ball I had only a couple of hours sleep before I had to head to the next event, photographing the divers now this was a lot better than expected as there were always people about and not underwater as I had been expecting so I was able to have a laugh, especially when during a compass exercise where a towel was over a persons head they led one of the students over the edge into the water, no sooner had the training for the day finished than I was off to what I thought would be an awaiting train, but due to the delights of the British Rail system I missed my connection and it was I doing the waiting.

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This weekend promises to be a fun one if a tiring one I am due to start work in a bit and I will probably be working or travelling but not sleeping until some point on Sunday. To be fair it is only a couple of days and not like the 130hrs of work I did back in Freshers week, but the photography this weekend will be a lot more varied.

I am working a graduation ball in Bristol, a gig with Alan Fletcher (Dr Karl Kenndy from Neighbours) in Portsmouth by night and during the days I will be near Frome in Somerset photographing divers.

I am working until at least 2 tonight and have to then get home which will take a while and they be up at 7 to be picked up by the divers, then at 6pm I am being carted off to get a train to Portsmouth working there til 2-3am and then getting a train at 9 to get back with the divers.

I am going to love this weekend!