The Power of Choice.

Something I read not too long ago really struck a chord with me today: “Your life isn’t defined by what happens to you; you define your life by how you choose to respond to the things life throws at you. That is the power of choice.”

It reminds me of a quote I came across after doing some research on the author Viktor E. Frankl, whose book (Man's Search for Meaning) I just finished reading. It follows...

"Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom."

Dolly Rocks!

After recently coming back into contact with a close-knit group of friends who I first met through the club scene on the South Coast, and who I have maintained friendships with for well over ten years now, I was inspired today to take the lids off my turntables, wipe the dust off my mixer, turn on the mirror ball and have a bit of a spin....

Whilst going through my music collection I came across what would have to be one of my favourite tracks of all time. Let me tell you, this little beauty always brings back fond memories of a time at a local venue, where I held a DJ residency for 8 years. When I hear Dolly Parton's version of Peace Train (Paul's TGV Mix) I often have flashbacks of a packed gay and lesbian night club, drag queens frolicking in their beautiful, flowing gowns, dancers on podiums twirling their glow sticks, colourful rays of light from roboscans cutting their way through the thick smoke that came from the smoke machines, punters grinning from ear to ear and people safely coming together in the one place where we could all go to share good times - mind you, that was back in the day before hard drugs, violence and dickheads carrying weapons became rampant and eventually muzzled in and took over the queer scene. Which unfortunately, is pretty much still indicative of how things are today.

To cut a long story short: I was never really a big fan of the usual old, gay anthems, as they were often a little too 'camp' for me, especially during the latter years as a DJ (by then I was spinning hard German trance, house, tribal house and electro house), but this particular mix of Peace Train was one of those tracks that I would take great delight in occasionally playing at the end of the night, after my final set, and boy, back in the old days, this track always managed to rock the roof off - to the point where there was not only moisture dripping from all of those hot, half-naked bodies, but also from the walls and windows.

Anyway, I think Peace Train is a special little track, you know, one of those ones that always brought people together (no matter who or how they liked to fu*k), and a track that will always stand out amongst the many records and cd's in my collection. It is also one I find to be very uplifting; that has a kind of warm, soulful, summery vibe to it that never fails to pep me up no matter what is going on in my life. I guess that's why I felt the need to share it today - I know a couple of people out there who sound like they could do with their spirits being lifted just a little, and I sure hope this one does it for you also.

What else can I say? - apart from you can't go wrong with Dolly. Over the years, she certainly has proven herself time and time again as an artist, and I don't really care what anyone says about her either, as right now I can't think of another way (well, I can, but that's my dirty little secret) I'd rather spend this cold and rainy Sunday afternoon, than indoors with my decks, my mirror ball and Dolly.

So, long live Dolly, because Dolly Rocks!

And long live the Peace Train...

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Peace_Train_Paul_s_TGV_Mix_/780704

Little...

I will hold you to that Banana Split,
and when we share it I will savour each and every moment.

Until then...



x

Rubik's Cube and the Ballpoint Pen not the only things Hungary has going for it...

Every morning I take time to reflect on life and to ready myself for what needs to be done during the day ahead. Every morning I also go out very early for breakfast, and afterwards I sit and sip on my cup of lemon and ginger tea and take time to read the morning paper. Not only am I interested in what goes on locally, but I am also interested in what goes on globally.

In this mornings edition of the paper I came across a rather curious little article that had me scratching my head, which eventually led me to remember some of the stories my gran used to proudly go on about her Homeland. That is, sadly, the stories she used to spin before her dementia set in.

Afterwards, I chuckled and thought to myself, gee, if only gran could see this one... I reckon it would give her a bit of a chuckle too.

High-Heel Sprint in Budapest:

May 23rd, some 100 women took part in the race wearing high- heeled shoes with a required minimum height of 8cm for a $6200 prize.

Please correct me if I am wrong, but I am not too sure if this is something the Hungarians actually whipped up all on their own (even though gran sure would like to think that the Hungarians were responsible for everything great that happened in the World) or, come to think of it, why some women would subject themselves to something which looks rather dangerous to me, just for the chance of a $6,200 prize.

Okay, sure, $6,200 could be considered a substantial amount of money to some, while for others, a race of this sort might be considered fun to run in a pair of killer heels - although, from a distance, it's hard to tell based purely by the look on their faces, but under close observation (runner #80) it actually suggests to me otherwise - but Hell, I wouldn't last 5 damn steps in a pair of heels, not that you'd ever catch me in a pair of heels, that is *wink* but you know, I'm, well, I'm just saying. If truth be told, I am more of an admirer of women who wear heels, especially when worn with a lovely pair of seamed stockings, but hey, let's not get me started on that one...

It did get me thinking however, that perhaps this type of event is something we could stage over here for drag queens at the next Fair Day, to be held in Sydney next year. Who knows? We could hold a National competition for all the drag queens from all around the land to come and take part in, at the same time, using it as an opportunity to help raise money for charity, or to raise money to help educate and campaign for issues such as homophobia and violence against members of our community.

Yep, anyway, I certainly can visualise a bunch of beautiful, screaming queens tearing down Broadway in all of their finest. After all, it's not exactly the first time I would be a witness to such things *wink*. I know a couple that I have worked with over the years as a club DJ who would just love to enter...

Miu Miu patent leather pumps anyone?

Don't you just love it?

I was just reading through a conversation which was passed on a little while back by an ex of mine after she discovered two people had had a nice little discussion about me and my life. Anyway, whilst reading through this conversation, I became aware that one of the latest rumours - based purely on conjecture - much like most of what was said during this tasty morsel of gossip - is that I apparently have a bit of a Harem going on LOL. I am not too sure how any of you would react after reading something like that, but it literally had me falling off my seat from fits of laughter. And for the life of me, after not being able to get my hands on an available date for last Saturday night, I sure as hell would like to know where my Harem of Femmes are at?

You know, I was recently thinking to myself, perhaps if I invested in a palace complex, built some private living quarters out the back, decorated the inside with rich, lavish furnishings, threw in a couple of eunuchs and a few servant girls here and there, then they might come..?

Let me fill you in on a little secret, this way you actually get to hear the truth straight from the horses mouth, as opposed to the usual bullshit that gets bandied about on the internet by people who claim to know who I am, or anything about my life: I am a 'one Femme at a time kind of Butch', and those who are actually important to me and who know me well, know that it has been this way for quite some time...

Another one bites the dust.

Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
And another one gone, and another one gone
Another one bites the dust
Hey, Im gonna get you too
Another one bites the dust

At 10:12 this morning a text message came rolling in from a friend who I have not seen or heard from in nearly 3 years. It went like this...

"Hey mate it's **** I have some bad news **** died on Sunday. Call me if this is still your number xxx"

For some reason my automatic reaction was to wonder if it was drug related. Without hesitation I immediately made the call and was told that my friends death was in fact due to the abuse of prescription drugs.

Over the years I have had friends who's lives have sadly been lost to drug addiction, drug overdose, and it has me sitting here feeling pretty numb and left wondering if people will ever learn. To me, each time that you decide to put one of those little pills into your mouth - whether it's prescribed or whether it's something like an E - or when you take your next hit or snort that line of what ever it is that you like to indulge in, it's like playing a game of Russian Roulette - each time you take the gamble and put that crap into your body you never really know how your body is going to react (even though you like to think you do), or if this could indeed be the one time where you end up losing your own life, too. Leaving you gone for good!

Is that High humans search for in this fashion ever really worth it in the end?

In the long run, and for the most part, I've seen it cause a whole lot of destruction and, ultimately, the early demise of some who have crossed my path.

With this news, not only am I saddened for the loss of a friend who I met way back in the early Nineties, but I am also once again reminded of something that I consider to be special. Something that is known as Gratitude. I am damn grateful of the fact that I removed myself from the scene and that I made the conscious decision years ago to lift my game, to live a clean and healthy lifestyle, and to never, ever give into temptation and to never go back.

I wish that my old friend had the opportunity to have seen life through my eye's. I wish that he too could have been lucky enough to have seen life as the magical and precious gift that it is; a precious gift that we only get one go at. There are no second chances here. This is it people. So make it count. If not for anyone else, then for yourselves.

Eggleston Hall: For Butches.

Clearly, this self-identified Butch has way too much time on my hands, and in terms of my droll sense of humour, it certainly doesn't take all that much to get a rise out of me...

The other night whilst watching Ladette to Lady, I had a bit of a chuckle at the thought of the creators of this latest reality TV series making an episode of "Butch-ette to Lady". Now, let me be really honest here (all chuckles aside), the mere thought of an episode such as this even seeing the light of day was enough to send my head into a spin. Oh my Lord, can you even imagine it? I can just see it now - waking up early one morning at Eggleston Hall and heading down stairs to discover the latest challenge, which is to hear that Mrs Harbord announces a zero tolerance policy on Butch cock. Or for something even more dizzying: being told that I must now put in my hair curlers, slip into my pantyhose and don a frock!

I don't know about the rest of you Butches, but I still suffer from P.T.D.S (post traumatic dress syndrome) from the class of 1987 - which was the last time I was forced to wear caught in a dress...

And, even though I don't really consider myself as someone who is overly masculine, let alone as someone who acts as these 'ladettes' do, (i.e. are loud, foul-mouthed, uncultured and unpleasant young women, who like to drink and smoke and who are often sexually promiscuous - according to Wikepedia), I'm sorry to inform the ill-informed: there ain't no lady, or inner-Princess, for that matter, lurking behind this here Butch Daddy. And no matter how hard you'd try, you would never, ever be able to feminise me or get me to change my naughty Butch ways, thus making me into what is described as... a real lady.

Hmm, perhaps I should rephrase that one. So, let's try again, shall we...

You could never turn me into something that is seen as less threatening or challenging in relation to my masculinity, or into something that fits snugly and neatly into what is expected of someone as a woman - especially regarding some of the notions on how someone should present themselves as a woman - commonly known as "societal standards", which, in my mind, can also be interpreted as that good old: "a woman who acts like or who looks like a woman" sort of thing. You know? - we'll have none of that male lesbian sort of thing. Not that I am actually trying to be, or wanting to be a man, but you get the gist *wink*

Yep, think I'll just stick to my men's shoes, suits, ties, cuff links, collar stays and french cuffs, thank you very much...

[insert (non-girly) Butch giggle here] *grins*

I don't know where that place is you speak of...

But just so you know,

I'm thinking of you

and I miss you.

I will be here when you get back.

x

Big Wheels Keep On Turnin' - Part II

Well, today is certainly a happy day in the city village. After completing the theoretical side of my traineeship in Road and Transport and also in Warehouse and Storage, back in December, this afternoon I was finally able to sit for the last part of my on road truck test. All up, it was a 12 hour ordeal, and suffice to say, that after a very long day, Mister is now officially the very proud owner of a MR Truck license. This certainly does bring a whole new level of opportunities to the table in regards to my future, and for that I am not only excited, but also bloody well thankful.

I just wanted to say thank you to my friends, who have been supportive of this and of my journey so far, and also cheers to Dave, (the owner of Lee's Driving School) who I would like to give a free plug to...

Reflection.

Today, whilst searching for answers, I was drawn to a book on the book shelf in my study that I have had in my possession for many years now. In 1993, I was fortunate enough to come across a copy of 365 Tao, by Deng Ming-Dao, in an out-of-the-way bookstore down in sunny Melbourne, during one of my annual visits. To this day I can still remember the sense of awe I felt upon opening it, and also how captivated I was by its contents as I let them wash over me for the very first time. Until then I had never been exposed to the principles or the philosophy of Taoism, and I wouldn't exactly say that after all of these years of turning to this book in times of need, that I am what you would call a 'devout' follower of Taoism. I mean, I try my best to live a spiritual life, but sometimes there's just so much chaos that goes on around us, and also within us - where we just get so damn caught up with everything and where everything is moving so fast - that I sometimes find myself straying from the path, or forgetting that one even exists...

Which now begs me to ask - for various other reason also: At what point did I start losing sight of myself? Not so much "who am I"?, because I do know who and what I am, but more in regards to what is right for me and what is not, and also that sense of inner peace which once seemed to be a constant companion of mine. Right now, I suspect that the cause of me questioning all of this is more than likely attributed to having so much conflict surrounding me by external forces (personal and other), which in my mind is not always a good thing. After all, there does come a point in our lives where we find ourselves in situations where we begin to think that enough is enough. And perhaps I am approaching that point sooner than I care to admit?

Anyway, I seem to find a strange sense of comfort in the knowing that every now and then we get a little reminder from the Universe, especially on days like this, where I sat at my desk and reached out for this book without intending to actually sit and read. It wasn't a conscious thought that led me to 365 Tao today, or to my study for that matter, but for some reason all that followed resonated deep within, and it was afterwards that I realised I obviously needed to hear what presented itself before me as I wearily opened up my book, turned to page 4, and began to read...

REFLECTION

Moon above water.
Sit in solitude.

If waters are placid, the moon will be mirrored perfectly. If we still ourselves, we can mirror the divine perfectly. But if we engage solely in the frenetic activities of our daily involvements, if we seek to impose our own schemes on the natural order, and if we allow ourselves to become absorbed in self-centered views, the surface of our waters becomes turbulent. Then we cannot be receptive to Tao.

There is no effort that we can make to still ourselves. True stillness comes naturally from moments of solitude where we allow our minds to settle. Just as water seeks its own level, the mind will gravitate toward the holy. Muddy water will become clear if allowed to stand undisturbed, and so too will the mind become clear if it is allowed to be still.

Neither the water nor the moon make any effort to achieve a reflection. In the same way, meditation will be natural and immediate.

A Foul Stench in the Dead of Night.

Honestly, what is it with some men who think that they can just whip it out and take a leak whenever or wherever they please?

Last night, I was woken by the sound of what I thought was running water somewhere in the front yard. It didn't take long for me to realise - no thanks to the smell of urine which was now wafting through my bedroom window, in what seemed to be a dry and humid 30-degree heat, which I tell you didn't help matters all that much - that is wasn't running water after all, but some dick who decided to take a pit stop, pull out his cock and piss all over the driveway. I thought to myself, you've got to be bloody kidding me? Of all places - not in the bushes, not behind a tree, not on the grass, but on the driveway! All I could think - still being half asleep and all - was: 'what a dirty prick!'.

The Top in me then thought, I'll get this guy, you watch, and with that I stood at my window (in nothing but my trusty Y-fronts) and I quickly lifted up the blind and yelled out, "Hey mate, you reckon you could take your Cock and go piss somewhere else?"

It was such a great moment as I stood there smirking and feeling rather pleased with myself. I felt this way because I saw how off-guard this guy was and how shocked he was that he had just been caught out. I could tell because of the way his silhouette jumped as he stood before the street light, and also because I could hear that he had now just pissed all over his foot, and all he could manage, as he fumbled while putting his cock back into his pants, was, "sorry mate!". What else could the poor fellow say? To be honest, I was half expecting to have some drunk hurling abuse back at me, or threatening to smash in my window, but no, luckily for me this guy was pretty passive. He casually got back in his car and drove off into the night. Leaving me with not only a sense of satisfaction as I climbed back into bed, but also with what was now only a faint and foul stench of urine wafting through my bedroom window.

Seven Days and One Week.

I tossed and turned for most of the night last night after taking myself to bed just after midnight, which is fairly late for me, even for a Friday...

You were in my thoughts, just as you have been for quite some time now, only lately it would appear to be a little more than usual, perhaps, even a little more than you should be. As I lay there, I couldn't help but think about your question to me a couple of weeks ago, and even though all I could offer you at the time was a brief reply, as it was late and we were both very tired, I wanted to tell you this.

I just know,
and I will wait for you
for as long it takes.

I gave you my word once that I would be here for you, and if there is anything you know for certain about me by now, it is that I always stand by my word.

Even after all this time..

I am still here...

am I not?

x

Big Wheels Keep On Turnin'.

After a long-awaited three month period since sitting a test and applying for a traineeship to get my MR truck license, (then left wondering if I would ever get accepted after dealing with bungled, bureaucratic bullshit), I finally received notification in the mail this week informing me that I got in, and that my course commences this coming Monday - Phew! And here I was starting to think that perhaps the Universe was working her magic against me, what, given my recent spate of bad luck and all...

To cut a long story short: I have spent just over a year now trying to get a traineeship into the mines driving one of these babies pictured in the photo above. I have joined numerous job-search networks, as well as mining and ore sites all throughout Australia, and I have even attempted to call some of the mines direct (but to no avail - as they just kept on passing me onto someone else). I have also spent countless hours researching other people's stories on how they got their break driving these beasts. So, naturally, when I saw an ad in the local paper advertising an Australian Government funded initiative (and a chance to go for my MR truck license for free), I pounced and I took it!

I know that having my MR truck license is a far cry from having a license to drive a Haulpak, but who could knock back a free traineeship? You'd have to be bloody crazy, as it is a rarity that the Government actually hands out these things in my area (I've yet to come across the same ad since it was advertised just over three months ago), and it is a positive step in the right direction to where I see myself, and where it is that I want to be in terms of having a rewarding career - especially regarding both job and financial security.

If there is one thing that I have learnt throughout this past year, it is that the mining sector sure is a hard game to get into, especially if you don't have all of the necessary qualifications and tickets needed to get your foot in the door - and even with them, it still seems somewhat difficult if you don't have any previous experience - but I believe that one day persistence will pay off for me, and that a hot little traineeship will land in my hot little hands. After all, I am a stubborn bastard at the best of times, and persistence has yet to fail me thus far: If I want something bad enough then I go after it, and believe me when I do, there is no stopping me.

Anyway, if anyone is actually reading this, I am going to leave the web address for the company who I got my traineeship through. I am not quite sure how often these traineeships become available, but if it can help out just one other person to get that one step closer to where they want to be, then Great! That's my job done, and also my good deed for the day.

http://www.appliedtraining.com.au/

I believe that this company offers traineeships in:

*Retail

*Asset Maintenance

*Warehouse and Storage (Forklift License) - these are expensive by the way, around $750, so you'd be a fool to pass it up.

*Road Transport (MR License) - which is the one I was fortunate enough, and greatful for to get a place in - plus many more courses available through their site.

Naturally, they do have conditions that apply in order to be able to meet the criteria and to be eligible for a traineeship, such as; having a permanent residencey; having Australian citizenship; and also being registered with a job-search provider, so maybe a quick call to the following phone number would be a good idea also, just to see where you stand: 1800 287 960.

Hope it helps!

Hail Mary, Full of Grace.

Yesterday marked the eighth day without my laptop, no thanks to a break-down in communication somewhere in my Spy-bot directory. Anyway, after spending a ridiculous sum of money to have it all fixed up and cleaned out, it has finally been returned to its rightful owner...

To think, it is actually possible to exist without the need for it in one's life. Who needs a fix of cyberspace on a daily basis, when instead of wasting time procrastinating whilst sitting in front of a flickering screen, one can be off doing something more productive - like spending more hours in the gym.

I must admit, however, that I have missed conversing with certain friends during this brief period of abstinence, but hey, what can I say? - "It did wonders for my biceps!" *wink*

Amen!

Same-Sex Rights.

This weekend symbolised a very special time for two friends of mine. My Chiropractor, who I have known for just over 5 years now, married her girlfriend in a beautiful back-yard ceremony.

A couple of months ago they both approached me during one of my weekly adjustments, and they asked me if I would like to photograph their day together. Needless to say, that I felt not only excited but also honoured to be asked to do so, and it was a real privilege to be able to share the day with them both, with their family, and with their closest friends.

Up until recently, I never really gave much thought about the fact that members of the GLBT community (or however anyone else identifies under the different umbrella terms associated within this community) could not marry legally - well, at least not here in Australia, as the last time I checked, the Australian Federal/Commonwealth Government has put a ban on the recognition of all same-sex marriages at the national level - and I guess my way of thinking was due to the fact that for me personally, I've never really needed to have my relationships validated by a system (one that has been put into place and where throughout history, and even right up until this day) where my relationship is one that is viewed as one that needs to be approved by a State or by some bigoted religious authority. Sorry, but I have trouble swallowing the part about it having to be "approved", especially by a Religious "authority". I mean, if they had their way, they'd still be burning the likes of me and my kind at the stake *nic (yes, I also spy a small hint of cynicism in my words ha ha - oh well, at least I can have a chuckle about it *wink*)

Anyway, since being asked to photograph the wedding it got me thinking about my own life, and what it is that I want for myself and for my future partner. It got me thinking that it comes down to so many different things: it comes down to "equality" and it comes down to being granted and afforded the same "basic civil rights" as everyone else - regardless of sex and gender. And, it comes down to "principal" and the right to have a "choice", it comes down to being allowed to choose whether or not I want to marry the person who I love, and who I wish to spend the rest of my life with. Sure thing, I can sit here and go on about how I don't need the approval of some old-fashioned and antiquated institution... but, the crux of the matter for me at this stage, is that with this "approval" comes so many rights that I, and that so many of us do not have access to. With it comes so much that those who are automatically granted these rights (ofter referred to as "heterosexual privilege") will probably never have to give a second thought to.

You know, we've all heard stories of peoples shared experiences, we hear so often of people in same-sex relationships being in situations, where, for example, one partner has been hospitalised and where the other partner has wanted to visit, but was not allowed to because their partnership was not recognised by law and was not deemed as one that is "legal", and where only immediate family members are allowed to visit. We hear of situations where disgruntled family members who don't "approve" of the type of relationship they share, or who have some personal disliking or grudge for the partner, and so they try and stop the partner of the ill person from seeing the partner who is ill. Jesus, can you even begin to fathom that or how that would make you feel? Imagine going to visit the one person who you love the most, and who is now in hospital (ill and/or maybe dying) and then being told by someone, "Sorry, but I am afraid you can't go in there, because you don't really have a place or a right being in there because you are not recognised as someone who is classed as 'immediate family' or 'next of kin'".

Bugger that!

And, it goes on, because we also hear of situations where a decision may have to be made on behalf of the party who is ill in hospital, and/or where the partner of that person is not allowed to make the final decision (or even have a say) regarding what should/will be the outcome - even though these two people may have discussed in private during the course of their relationship what course of action they want their partner to take if ever a situation like this were to eventuate. We hear of stories where disgruntled family members come on in and take over, and they make executive decisions based on what they want - whether it's to do with the outcome of the medical condition, or even on what happens in the course of death when it involves an Estate - and they make these decisions without any consideration or respect for the partner of the ill person, or of the wishes of the person who is ill (if it involves including the other partner) and nothing can be done to prevent it from happening, because same-sex marriage is not recognised as one that is legal here in Australia - or in most other counties and states - and in the end, we basically don't have a bloody legal leg to stand on.

Now, I know that these are only some of the examples that can be made when it comes to the issue of same-sex rights and having our partnerships recognised legally, and, I also know that there are other pressing issues going on globally right now, such as; global warming; the tumbling economy; poverty; people starving in third-world countries; kids living on the streets; the war on drugs; the long struggle for democracy in military-ruled Burma, etc, etc, and believe me all of these issues are issues (along with many other issues) that I think of often, but at present, it is the issue of same-sex rights and same-sex recognition that weighs on my mind the most...

I don't know about the rest of you, but I want to know that if at some stage I enter into a relationship and I decide that I want to marry, that if I die, then my partner will be okay because she will be entitled to an inheritance, automatically. I want to know that she will be set up financially, and that no one can try and take that away from her. I want to know that she won't have to worry about anything or that she won't lose the house (if we have a house) because someone is daring to challenge her on property rights, or on anything else that we have worked so hard to create and establish together, as a "couple".

As someone who focuses on, and who takes great care and pride in creating and providing a safe and secure environment for the woman that I love, it is imperative that I know that she will be okay if anything should happen to me; whether that's me becoming impaired in any way (mentally or physically) or once I have gone...

And, at the end of the day, I really don't think that it's too much to ask for.

Fetish.

I have been feeling a little uninspired lately, to be honest, it's been at least two months since I picked up my SLR's and spent some time out and about capturing whatever takes my fancy on any given day.

After spending the early morning hours sitting here behind my laptop sifting through some of my earlier work in the hope of finding something that moves me; sitting here in the hope of finding something that just might help to reignite that spark, I came across this photo that I took of my favourite gas mask, which is part of a series of photographs that I worked on last year, which was based around the theme of "fetish" and my penchant for this particular style of gas mask (along with other favourable items) that I thought I would share. After all, this blog has been lingering here in cyberspace looking rather empty for just over a year now, and I figured that it was high time I got it up and running.