Hello 
I'm Siobhan Curran/Kisa Naumova, and this is my weblog. I tend to write about stuff like crossdressing, Macs, code, cats, wine and Second Life, but in general it's just an ongoing conversation about all sorts of stuff. If you'd like to know a little bit more about what this all is, I recommend starting on this page which has a little bit of info on who I am, and what I'm trying to do — or you could dive into my five years worth of archives if you like.
Otherwise, feel free to close this box and explore...
Mmm
(via flickr.com/people/si08han) 
64 inches 
Breakfast
(via flickr.com/people/si08han)
K and I had a fry-up. Ian had other ideas
Sky
(via flickr.com/people/si08han)
K
(via flickr.com/people/si08han)
...are spending the day blogging
Casualty of War
(via flickr.com/people/si08han)
The streaks in your hair look good
Eternal Youth
Before I even begin to try and write anything about what happened last night, I must just get this one out.
Long drive home, foot hard on the accelerator (except for the moment when I spotted a blue and white car behind me1), decided to pop into Sainsburys to get a bottle of wine.
Call it "hair of the dog" if you like.
So I'm stood at the checkout, popping things into bags, and the guy at the till looks up and says, "Do you have any proof of age?"
"What?!"
"Do you have any proof of age?"
"Are you serious?"
"Yes"
"I'm thirty three"
"I'm sorry, but you look under twenty one"
Fumble fumble fumble in my wallet for my driving license.
"Thank you — you just totally made my day" 
(1Earlier, to demonstrate to Miss K just how filthy my car was, I drew a smiley face in the dirt on the back of it. I reckon that the two policemen, who must have noticed I was doing rather more than 70 miles per hour, figured that they couldn't possibly pull over someone with a big smiley face on the back of their car )
Nothing to do with the smiley face on the back of the car — it's just that your car was the wrong colour
Could Somebody Please Explain
Just what this whole "Siobhan and the Arab" thing is? I mean, I know I was drunk (just a bit), but I think I would have remembered that sort of thing 
Granted, I didn't actually get the guy's name, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't from the Middle East.
erm, you might want to go back and tweak the html from when you put the superscript in and close it... everything after that is now in very small text...
Oh, and the arab thing.. well it's not really my place to tell the tale. I'm sure Becky will spill the beans later on.
Whoops — the </sup> just happened to fall on a line-break that my email inserted without me realising
Hey Siobhan,
The thing that gets me is how you possibly have the time to write all this stuff, go out all the time and work too.
I sense an interesting story approaching here. Maybe the guy was from South America instead — it seems to be an easy mistake to make.
Susan
an interesting story
Yes, well, you could say that
Siobhan, it was very nice to finally meet you.
I heard it was an Arab. Though I don't remember much more than that because it was late and I had had a glass or two of wine by that point.
I must admit you would have been able to tell me more, when I asked Becky this afternoon she just smiled enigmatically.
It's soooooooo nice to see other people having those 'oh WTF happened' kind of nights
The Arab? Not really my place to tell... I'm sure you'll remember soon!!!
Nice to finally meet ya. I'll try and get to chat a little longer next time...But you looked kinda busy 
xxxx
Heh, I just knew Siobhan wouldn't remember anything about the Arab!
That's probably because there wasn't any Arab.
It was just a something we invented to all blog about because we knew you'd get too drunk to remember everything and would be freaked out by it.
But I've decided unilaterally to knock it on the head now, mainly because the Truth is so much more interesting and I don't want fictional Arabs muddying the waters.
So, what really happened last night.
lol Meanies, dam and it sounded so exciting to
Siobhan > your turn to muddy...
Ah. Yes.
OK. Fair enough.
You know what? For once in my life, I actually do remember everything I did on a trannie-night out. I mean, I could explain what went on, but then again everyone saw me locking tonsils with April and Angela, so there's probably no point.
Although, I think the words "Trannie Sandwich" were running through my head as I eventually went to sleep.
So instead of that, instead of going into great detail about what heppens when three transgendered individuals leave a nightclub all holding hands, let me try to recall a momentary occurance, that happened just as we left...
For some reason, our little zone — the couple of sofas that hadn't seen so my trannie-on-trannie action since their leather was stapled to their padding — was infultrated by some gay men towards the end of the night.
I think some staring happened. I think perhaps there was something of a "show" going on.
But still, one of them was exceptionally cute. And, as we were trotting off to get our coats (I think I was being carried), I thought "Fuck it. I'm on a roll"
I like to think that in some way, some how, I give people experiences that they never thought would happen. At least not that night anyway.
He had a very bristly goatee
And all of this prompted a comment from Miss K the next morning. "Snogs are like buses. You wait around for ages, and then three come along at once"
Serendipity
It's quarter to ten. I've been slobbing round the house in my pyjamas all evening, supping wine and generally pootling around online. And watching Top Gear. But, the wine is depleted, and I was just on my way to bed, when this popped into my inbox:
"Are you busy? Fancy a bit of binge drinking?"
See yous on Tuesday
My mother warned me about people like you. Not that I ever listened to her of course.
Sorry if I missed something in the past, but I saw this comment above, and was wondering if you would be so kind to tell me/us who these people are?
"K and I had a fry-up. Ian had other ideas"
HUGGERS!
Geena CD gal in Boston Area USA
Oh, sorry "K" is Miss K. Ian is Ian Betteridge
I am very drunk I am going to bed...
And my other ideas were... donuts!
Ian didn't eat all of these btw..
Thanks for coming out Siobhan after such a busy weekend — I was quite surprised to see that we'd ended up in the pub till 11.30. And on the Lord's Day too!
You will never guess how I found you guys (coloquially speaking). Just had a fungus pointed out to me this afternoon on a tree branch, so I typed in:- British "Tree Fungi"
- and got one of your old blogs.
Isn't google clever — how did it know this would be of interest?
It was lovely to touch base — had a real laugh at some of your crueller comments on Rose (I was around the scene when Rose got started, and have been on telly with her and her RG); to give you a clue, I'm one that doesn't so much have bustles as trains (no, not first class, usually second-hand). (always the bride, never the bridesmaid . . . ... ).
Julie
Glad you all had a fab time, hope I manage to make it to the next one.
And I can soo relate to the WTF happened? moment. I think thats why trannies take lots of photos, so that we can figure out what we were actually doing the night before. Although, sometimes its best NOT to know...
Size matters.....