"One thing's for sure, my next flat is not going to be for business. The only people coming into to it is the people I like. It'll have all my things in it, it'll be my little palace, and it'll look great. You watch it, it will!" [mpeg: 7.5MB]

Webmaster's Diary, Part 2

Over two months into what unarguably is the new millenium, with a new job, new hopes and hopefully some new friends. Unfortunately, the job's a right bedlam, some major hopes have been shattered, and I'll probably be seeing a lot less of my new friends that expected. But more of that later.

26 Feb 2001

Just back from the plane from London (a temperature drop from a sunny +5*C to -15*C snowstorm), where I've been spending close to a week - mainly tutoring the London staff and looking for an apartment. Being given a quite reasonable budget I spent Friday wandering around Little Venice and Maida Vale, which are some of the nicest places in London I've seen. Dropped in on a real estate agent which I'd found on the net, and after some embarrasing moments being mistaken for a salesman (seen many salespeople with a backpack, black leather jacket and a two feet long ponytail?) I spent two hours chatting with the family proprietors about the area. Even being so central it's still very much of a community, apparently with some well-known film stars to be seen at the street cafes in summer. They even had sold some of the brightly painted house boats that can be seen moored in the canal (nice idea, although Richard Branson's would probably stretch my budget too far). Unfortunately they hadn't any flats available, but suggested instead I crash on the floor above their office, which was under refurbishing. Being really nice they offered to look after my mail while I was away, and take care of all the practical details. The last tenant was a Japanese girl studying in London, and their parents were so worried about her not knowing the language they sent the agent money to pay all her bills!

Charms of Little Venice aside (just blasé from visiting the real thing last summer), I finally settled on a bright and spacious flat in Bayswater. Currently being renovated I even could choose my own furniture! Wandered up Queensway looking at furniture shops I found a very nice dark wooden chemist's bench on sale and the most beautiful vase I've seen - totally flat with silk screened emblems like Japanese mon. As I figured it would probably break during the return flight I resolved to go back and buy it when I returned to move in. Cruel twist of fate, as it would turn out...

Coming home just in time for the new screening of Paddington Green on BBC Prime, I was dismayed to find out it really was a rerun of the third season. Apparently those in charge of programming can't have watched the show. I had expected they'd continue with the fourth season, which was sent in the UK in August. But if they intended to show a rerun, why couldn't they have started from the beginning, giving me a chance to see the first episodes with Jackie that I missed? Insted we saw her coming back from Tenerife and going to the career planner, all of which I had taped previously. But it's always nice to see Jackie on the screen again, as I think she's such a great icon and inspiration for us all. Unfortunately I don't know what has happened to her career after the show (not talking about the Sussex Gardens business here - shame on you). However I can verify that Claudia's scooter shop in Edgware Road is very much open for business. She even got a makeover on a recent fashion show on 'how to look like a millionaire'!

1 Mar 2001

Finally got myself a Lomo! This legendary Russian compact camera has been on my wish list since I read about it in Wired several years ago, and now I have one in my hand. Noone could ever accuse the Russians of not making solid stuff - being all-metal it looks like the flight recorder of a MiG-27, although being just slightly largen than a pack of cigarettes you can keep it in the pocket without thinking about it (unlike the 3 kg Nikon I bought from a friend this autumn).

What's special about the Lomo (apart from it bare-necessity operation - a four-setting manual lever for focus and another for film speed) is the lens. Originally made for spy cameras it's really high speed (1:2.8) makes it perfect for taking pictures without a flash. In fact, the darker the more superior it is to other cameras - and no red eyes or obtrusive flashes. Also, the wide-angle lens is slighly darker and less focused around the corners, giving a tunnel effect not unlike pinhole photography. And colors are vivid to the point of psychedelia - especially using the included Lomo film. Further reports to come when I get my first roll processed.

7 Mar 2001

So, after working on a project for over three months, with endless delays and revised plans, and being pushed over by three project managers-for-hire in succession, we finally lauched a new site this morning. After several hours of teething server problems we finally get the system running - then the shit really hits the fan. The entire sales and customer depts fly off their collective rockers because of three graphical buttons that have been changed without their being informed. And who gets the blame but the tech guys - in particular yours truly who made the buttons (after being approved by two project managers and the CEO). Three fucking buttons! Dilbert is nothing compared to the farces I've been involved in during my five years as a dot- communist.

Worse, after two hours of meetings from Hell, my pointy-haired boss takes me aside and tells me they have no intention of honoring their contractual obligations of providing me with a flat in London. Blaming it on budgets (a little late after signing a contract, if you ask me), they would rather I continue working back in Oslo (which I have repeated refused in their previous job offers), without even mention a compensation for what I really see as cutting my salary in half. This means I get the same pay as the previous job, but with a significant degradation in other benefits and work environment. Have given them a week to come up with an alternative offer, or I will have to start looking for another job (the third in under half a year) and possibly suing them for breach of contract.

But apart from losing sleep over a job that I'm close to hating (something I was prepared to keep up with just to get out of the country), it has left my private life in somewhat of a shambles. Not minding facing up to all my friends who have been busy scheduling a roster to come visiting, it also means that I won't be seeing much of those in the UK that I've gotten to know via the Net since I started preparations for moving to London. Staying at the occacional hotel is not the same as having a place to invite friends over for dinner and stashing away the loot from my all-to-frequent bookshop raids in Charing Cross Road (never mind schlepping my guitars to and forth on the plane).

Even if they should come up with a generous raise, it would be just leave me with a bitter taste in my mouth. Affording a few more pints and dinners out and buying some more useless gadgets won't make me any less miserable. If giving it to Jackie would help her stay off the streets I could at least have one problem less to worry about. If I were a little more brave I'd sell my flat and just leave on the next plane. But unfortunately having ignored the Buddhist tenet of owning no more than eight things my flat looks like a cross between Foyle's and the server room at work (at last count I had five networked computers, two network printers and a massive 21" monitor in my living room. However I got a TV only last month!). So I could really need another flat - if only to have somewhere to invite over a girl without her geek radar sounding off klaxons the minute I opened the door. But now it all seems just like a dream - nice while it lasted, but too good to be true. And I feel just like a missile gone ballistic, approaching burnout fast.

20 Mar 2001 -- A tale of two smudges

Yesterday saw Jackie back on the tube again, when BBC Prime reprised the episode where she visits her childhoom home. I found it so sad the first time that I hardly could write about it, and even seeing it for probably the fiftieth time it still brings tears to my eyes. For those who haven't seen it, Jackie was born in Hackney in East London as the third of a four children, and after five years in what seems like a rather dysfunctional family the parents just walked out of the door, never to return. Even though we don't see her crying (although her mascara is running) it is obviously an emotional experience, remembering how the kids used to clump together and block out the shouting of their parents. If any of her brothers saw it (most likely) I hope they would try to contact her. The only excuse not to do so would be death or incarceration. I've often thought that I could have been born her brother I could have tried to take care of her from an early age, and hopefully her life would have been somewhat happier.

For a long time there has been a greasy spot on my monitor screen. I used to have a picture of Jackie as my Windows wallpaper, and at night before I went to bed I used to kiss her goodnight and wish tomorrow would bring a better day for her. And for all I know my wishes may have come true. I haven't heard a single piece of news about her since I launched the site. She may be enjoying a life in relative obscurity, with a decent job and a boyfriend... but she may also have ended up back on the street again. I guess I shall never know. And if she should happen to see this site I hope she will be flattered, but I do not expect any kind of response. So in that sense I guess the main purpose of this site has been a failure.

However, one very positive side-effect of the site has been that I've gotten loads of loving emails from very nice people from all over the world, some I hope to build up real friendships with. This is something I never expected. I've been on FriendFinder for almost four years, and used to hang out in the chat rooms daily at one time, but the only friend I've got out of this is a guy in Hong Kong that wrote me when they mistakenly entered me into their gay database without my knowledge (he actually moved here two days ago to get married, and I hope to get invited).

When I started watching Paddington Green I figured Jackie was a special case. She certainly did not conform to the stereotypic picture I had of trans people. But after getting to know others with very similar stories (although few have had such a string of bad luck as Jackie) I think there are lots of people that could have gone on the show and generated a similarly favourable response. I have certainly never met many people in 'real life' that give so much love and understanding in return for a little respect and acceptance. And last night a very beautiful girl told me she cared about me... and now there are two smudges on my monitor.

2 Apr 2001

Monday again, watching Paddington Green. Scoother shop Claudia's flat hunting, relying on numerology and Feng Shui to find out which to buy (reminds me of my longest-running ex, who couldn' sit down in a movie theatre without running a kabbalist analysis on the ticket numbers! She left me with both a deep suspicion of New Age and an appreciation of the philosphy of Aleister Crowley - but I digress). No Jackie though. The previous episode featured a short cut from when she was off the game and sleeping rough, contemplating her future. So she probably won't be on until Monday after easter, and then I'll be back in Blighty. Yes, come Friday I'll be back on the plane to London. Unfortunately it's just a holiday at my own expense.

Until then I've got two websites left to finish, and the fruits of my work have been in the TV news all day because of the new launch. But instead of spending sunday afternoon on getting some pressing engagements off my chest I ended up reading what is probably one of the most illuminating sites I've found (and I was on the net years before the WWW was invented). It is an autobiography of an Australian woman called Julie, and while her story may not be as unique as Jackie's, it is extremely well-written and deals with a lot of questions that Paddington Green viewers may have in a frank and detailed manner. I don't know if Jackie would ever realise her plans of writing a book, but until then I'd recommend this site to anyone who aren't too narrow-minded to learn about people a little different from themselves (but if so you wouldn't be reading this site anyway, I guess).

After finishing the last project all of the staff got a nice bonus which I promptly spent on a Roland RS-5 synthesizer, which I've had some fun with the last week. It really has some nice organ sounds with simulated rotary speaker effects (and having carried a few Hammonds and Leslies in my time I really appreciate it being only a few kilos). There are quite a few piano sounds as well, but as I've never learned to play properly I guess I'll have to see how much use I'll have for those. It certainly wouldn't please Jackie, she would probably prefer a weighted keyboard if she had to settle for something in her flat. And some time ago I thought that if I were to meet Jackie and become her friend I would by her an electric piano for her birthday. But that was over a week ago. And I will probably never get a chance to give her my best wishes. And I probably won't get a chance to move to London either. But in six hours I'm going deliver my resignation unless they can give me an offer I can live with.

30 May 2001

Back from two weeks' easter holiday in England, having finished the new site project at work (with lots of praise), and renewed after a long weekend in the hills. Today my boss were goint to invite me out to lunch to discuss some "further career options" (whatever that means), but instead being in bed with the flu have given me some time off to do a much awaited update on the site.

My first day in London almost ended in tears. Found out the reason my London position was cancelled - the UK site was being closed down and all the employees given notice. I was invited to their farewell party, where despite the circumstances they were optimistic and prepared to work without pay in order to obtain funding for a franchise operation. Even having bought my flat before prices went over the roof (so to speak), I could not imagine working for free for long before going bust. And as they were making less than the rent of my prospective apartment in Bayswater, I felt extremely selfish complaining about my lack of benefits while they were left out on a limb. After the speeches praising their initiative and good work, I got up and told them how sorry I was not joining them, their being the reason I quit my last job. Although never having any reservations on speaking up in public, this was probably the hardest speech I've ever made, as I had to restrain myself not to start crying. Afterwards most of them came over and hugged me, telling me that I had a big heart. Imagine their reaction if they had known I was wearing it on my sleeve for Britain's famous transsexual ex-prostitute.

Speaking of which, I can't help noticing how much the media are on about transsexuality at present. I was the major story in both the largest national Saturday newspaper and the current issue of New Scientist. And recently several channels have been screening The League of Gentlemen, which pokes fun at (amongst others) local shopkeepers, sheep farmers, employment agency workers and a transsexual taxi driver. At first I did find the latter cruel and stereotyping, but then again that goes for all of the characters. And as some of my best friends are local shopkeepers, sheep farmers and (ex-) employment agency workers as well transsexuals, I should be equally offended by their being caricatured.

However, while I'm sure many feel resentment about how the show builds up under the stereotype of transsexuals as hairy, deep-voiced, masculine monsters in pink dresses (an image which Jackie should have disproved thoroughly by now), it struck me that the representation wasn't all negative. At least she seems completely accepted by the other villagers (in contrast to non-local visitors), being able to work without harassment and the others hoping she'll find a soulmate. Not everyone I've talked to has been that fortunate.

Anyway, after much ado we ended up getting tickets for their live performance at The Royal Theatre in Drury Lane. And while I've previously managed to stay away from these tourist traps with the usual Lloyd-Webber and Agatha Christie fare, this is a show I wouldn't have missed for the world. Watching these three actors rapidly changing characters all the time is nothing short of amazing. And by a curious sidenote, Mark Gatiss started his drama career writing Doctor Who scripts, which was the reason I got BBC Prime - thereby seeing Jackie and making this website. Who would have known...

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