Sista..... Stand Up!

What is it about food and shopping that drives me like some crack craving banshee when I get stressed or feel under pressure!! A few hours after hearing about my redundancy I sank into a void of destruction, eating all the food I am intolerant too and shopping like Posh on speed! Hurrying from one shop to the next, convincing myself that I had to have that Item…. Each purchase made me feel better for about 1 second which is why I had to get to the next fix? What was I running / shopping from. Fear of not being about to pull it out of the bag this time? Fear that no one would want me although I had a vat of professional skills…. What was that about… the food thing was horrendous as some of the stuff I was eating I hadn’t touched since I was diagnosed with the food intolerance 18 mths ago. Umpteen toasted Cheese paninis, secret bounty bars, a large slice carrot cake covered in cream… all tasted delicious!

Sound pretty normal you might say, but to my body they’re the enemy! After gorging all the shite, the scary palpitations took hold (egg from the cake is my worse allergy) and at one point I went into the toilet to make myself sick because I could really feel them getting harder, but that didn’t work so I had to suffer the consequences… within a few days the shite food had taken me to a new low and now all the skin rashes emerged around my hips, feet and a few little areas on my face. Not that noticeable on face thank God. Then the sleep deprivation kicked in… I was awake for 3 hours on the hour then I would fall back to sleep and wake up battered!! Why was I punishing myself for something that had absolutely nothing to do with me personally?? Somehow although I knew this logically, my psyche had taken this on personally with a vengeance and somehow it was my fault, my doing, my incompetence??

Thankfully this only lasted a few days and once I was feeling Really shite, I got a grip of myself and yanked my sinking soul out of the swamp and back onto dry Land. Hang on a minute Sista, you haven’t been diagnosed with a terminal disease, you husband still fancy’s the pants off you? You’re are intelligent women; you’ve had your moment in the mire so you can move your arse now! After my self telling off, I began the sensible task of flushing out all the shite I had just poisoned my body with and the first litre of water was on the way to bring me back where I belonged. On top of my shit!

Couldn’t be arse dealing with the hair situation today so I hooked a back up from my bag of falsies! As the clock ticked closer to 5:30, I disappeared into the work toilets in my hooker wig (have you not seen pretty women?) and emergered 20 mins later in my large afro, gold sequinned vest, skinny rocker jeans, green slouch boots and an attitude. Fabulous... Not bad considering 3 hours earlier I was in no mood for fabulous….
Met Gabe after stocking up on snacks in the local Sainsbury’s and made myself comfortable to be dazzled. The film was amazing though Beyonce was not the star! I was quite glad as as beautiful as she is, her weaved out, caramel, can di no wrong ‘perfection,’ is really annoying and Im glad that a, beat down, reality show nobody stole the film right under her nose and now she is up for an Oscar. You go girl!! Jennifer Hudson is the real star!! Gabriel now has sore ribs from the numerous jooks he got from my excitement over the Weavelicious perfection! I won’t tell you too much about the plot but it’s based around the story of the Supremes. I will say that it’s a girls (or queen's) film so don’t bother dragging your man...
After the film we head for gay joint in soho which had more testosterone than Russell Brand's ball bags... We meet up with an old Heaven queen who is now the editor of a gay/soft porn magazine, copies of which were freely available in the bar?? It was quite entertaining flicking through the endless pages of erect wood with phone numbers. Long ones, thin ones, bell ends, large balls, tight ones, hanging ones, whatever? Amongst the willies was a cool interview with Jennifer Hudson (the real dream girls star) and at the back was a full gallery of hard willies where you could text in who was your favourite?? 2 cocktails, and a spin with Madge in the middle of the bar floor later we’re off to Covent Garden to another gay joint but this time it was the place I has my first girl on girl encounter. Yes, you heard right, a lezza encounter. More lipstick lesbian than Russian shot putter but I'll save my lezza life for another entry as this one is about the dream girls tranny thing....
Several more cocktails later and we enter the 'Tranny Shack' club night at 2two much. On reception we are greeted by a 7 and half foot tranny in nine inch thigh high boots, a fur coat, shoulder length peroxide wig with cropped fringe and a foxy pair of large chocolate sunglasses which frame her face like giant scaffolding. DIVA!! As the doors to main space open, Kylies 'locomotion' kisses my ears and the floor is awash with colourful characters all vying for the most attention. The crowd had gone to town of their outfits and it was fabulous to watch all the free spirits work their shit… Ohhh My GOD!!! Across the dance floor there is a large pole with the most amazing girl sliding down it. Her waist must be a 22, a high tight arse, cheekbones like razors, shoulder length hair with Vidal sharp fringe, and the perkiest pair of titties you ever saw! She was like a large python around the pole and the audience were mesmerised… We head for the VIP area where she takes a break, Gabriel introduces me to her then promptly whispers that it’s a man!!! A friggin man!! I shouldn’t be so surprised but this diva could take Naomi!! She is so cool!! We have a few drinks before we go to watch the singing competition to find the best tranny dream girl. This turned out to be shite but I had had so many cocktail by then I didn’t care… I don’t remember, anymore names or faces but remember dancing with so many Queens. It’s so great to loose your inhabitations and not have to worry that a bloke’s gonna try to put his hand up ya skirt!! I don’t have much recollection of the rest of the night except complaining that my wig was too tight by the end of the night so I gave the taxi driver a fright by whipping it off it so I could enjoy my cat nap in the taxi back to Gabriel’s at 4am ….