Kidmageddon: Day 3

Today was incredibly scorchio: some say it's the hottest day of the year so far, with temperatures well in excess of 30 deg C. Which to me, as a South African, is pretty fricken hilarious because every day was above 30 deg C for 8 months of the year when I lived there, but here in the UK we also have ridiculous levels of humidity to deal with so it's much harder to deal with that kind of heat.

Anyway, I started the day by heading to the gym nice & early, again to avoid the worst of the day's heat. I needn't have rushed, because there was an odd mist in our area today that didn't lift until lunchtime, and it kept things nice & cool at the gym. Of course, once the mist did lift the temperature skyrocketed very quickly indeed, and when I disappeared out to our local corner shop towards the end of the afternoon it was so hot I thought my eyeballs might melt.

Ahem. OK, so another hour of lying to the recumbent bike at the gym allowed me to burn another 300+ calories (yay!) but I decided to undo all that good work later on in the evening by having not one, but two scones with jam & cream. Well, it's my summer 'holiday' and I am the boss of me, so I decided I needed the treat.

Of course, when I got up this morning it had been announced that the Duchess of Cambridge had been admitted to hospital in labour, so I turned on the telly and had a good laugh at a bunch of talking heads standing outside buildings where nothing was happening, saying "Yes, the Duchess has gone into labour, but it could be hours until we hear anything! Over to Sian in the studio". Sian: "In case you haven't heard, the Duchess has gone into labour and we're going to talk about nothing else all day. Over to Joe outside Buck House" and so on & so on as they passed the story between each other, trying to drag it out for all it was worth.

It reminded me of Clarence Keyter's infamous coverage of Nelson Mandela's release from prison. Poor old Clarence was an Afrikaans newsreader who was roped in by the SABC to stand around outdoors for several hours, trying to talk to the world about the momentous event of Mandela's release from prison, when he really didn't have a great deal to say. It was really, really awkward to watch because there's only so much you can say about the old scoundrel; and I could be wrong but it didn't look like Clarence had done enough homework to be able to fill about 4 hours of talking about one man. (Heck, I doubt anyone could do enough homework for that!) It was cringeworthy stuff, and so was the performance of the British media today. I did have to LOL though when people started tweeting & texting the BBC to tell them to report the other news of the day instead of bumbling around outside the hospital with nothing new to add to the story; the Beeb's presenters took it on the chin and responded with good-natured humour, which was more than Clarence managed.

Anyway, I didn't watch a movie per se today, but instead I logged in to 4OD and finally got round to watching My Transsexual Summer, the documentary series I missed last year but that has had a lasting effect on my life. A lasting effect, that is, because a lot of trans* people watched that particular documentary last year and as a result they finally came out to their families & approached their doctors to begin their transition... leading to a massive backlog of patients that the Gender Clinics in the UK are still struggling to get through. They've been inundated with new cases, which not only makes things difficult for all those new people trying to get in to see someone, but it also makes things difficult for existing patients who are now having to wait longer & longer between appointments, because services are just so stretched.

Not that I begrudge those people for seeking assistance at the same time as me. It's just unfortunate and inconvenient that we're all competing for the same limited resources at the same time, which is causing us all to have to wait unacceptably long times to get on with the difficult business of transitioning.

It took me just shy of four hours to watch the whole series and I could relate so much to what almost everyone on the show was saying. I also had a couple of triggering, teary moments, such as when Sarah explained how she'd always been uncomfortable with cameras or mirrors because they show an image of her that doesn't agree with how she sees herself. I so understand what she means there: this has been a problem for me for more than 30 years now and one of the reasons why I'm looking forward to medically transitioning is because I'd love to be able to look in a mirror or even look at my own body when I bath myself, without feeling like I want to burst into tears because of what I see there.

Hmm... so after that light entertainment I spent a couple of hours playing games on my iPad, before making a stir-fry for my evening meal, once again washed down with just enough wine to take the edge off the day, then I turned on the telly to hear that the Duchess of Cambridge had delivered a son. Yay! So then I got to have a good laugh at a bunch of talking heads standing outside buildings where nothing was happening, saying "Yes, the Duchess has had a baby boy weighing 8 pounds 6 ounces, but it could be some time until we know his name! Over to Sian in the studio". Sian: "In case you haven't heard, the Duchess has had a baby boy. Over to Joe outside Buck House." and so on & so on as they tried to drag out the story by repeating the same details over & over again. I think you'd have to be a Teletubby - or perhaps Dory from Finding Nemo - to enjoy having the same details repeated every few seconds, each time by a different talking head.

Then I spent some time playing on my iPad before scribbling down today's blog entries.

Anyway, congrats to the Cambridges. And congrats to the Queen who doesn't have to worry about them trying to squeeze the name 'Diana' in there somewhere. (I rather suspect he'll be named George).