Wednesday, 28th December, 2005

The Future's Bright

(via flickr.com/people/si08han)

Apologies for what must seem like a totally tactless and inappropriate title, but I like to think that my own personal history and politics enables me to make a seemingly irreverent quip like that

Glad at least more than one person got it I was worried I'd have to launch into an "Irish History 101" or something

Decisions

OK, help me out here. Do I (a) eek out the remnants of the rather nice bottle of Côtes du Rhône that my brother and his wife got for me for Christmas, call it a night, and generally end this full-on-code-based-work-day on a respectible high-note, or (b) open the bottle of (cheaper) Côtes du Rhône that's sitting downstairs and go on a bit of a bender?

I should, perhaps, explain the context here a little.

I'm sat here, having used-up all the "good" telly already tonight (did anyone watch The Comic Strip Presents? And if so, did anyone grasp why the last spoken line might have hit me a little hard? ), one glass left of booze, having spent a whole day writing (yet again, it seems) a group blogging tool...

(one that you can email MS Word files to, mind. BTW)

...and in need of severe relaxation techniques.

Normally, I'd indulge in some petticoat-based lone-tranny-action (what?), but I did that already today, and I'm a bit wanked-out, frankly.

Oh yeah, and also, I managed to pull a muscle in my neck on Boxing Day. (Long story, I was sat on the loo that morning, doing a rather strenuous sprout-based poo, and my neck clicked) It's ached ever since.

So yeah, sat here in pain, slightly (very slightly mind) sober, with no usual trannie-escape for the evening...

Ignore me — I just made the decision for myself.

I hereby grant myself the right to write about things in a totally honest and revealing way — with the caveat that I can delete them in the morning.

"Sexy"

Internet clothings sites annoy me. Actually, the concept doesn't annoy me — it's the effervescent descriptions that retailers attatch to their wares that annoys me. Thingsa are labelled as "sexy", and quite frankly, they're not.

Schoolgirl outfits, right? 9 times out of 10 they're some vague skimpy tartan skirt with a fleeting glimpse of a blouse.

That's not sexy. Sexy is full-on 1960s St Trinians 6th former uniforms — not two stiches of plaid with pigtails.

One of the people I'm in constant admiration of is Claudia Tyler Mae, and one of the things that I most admire about her (apart from her ability to have a serious reasonable argument/discussion about something), is her taste in clothes. Inspired by her recent photographic exploits, I figured I'd trawl the net trying to find something rather more glamorous to wear than my usual "black shirt and jeans" combo (which to be honest, is getting rather tired)

Mostly, when you click on links that people list on their home pages, you're greeted with the same tat that appears on every other website on the planet — half-a meter of black satin and a snippet of lace and lo-and-behold ... a maid's outfit!.

But Claudia has a link to this, and that has a link to this

Right, that's what to wear for Sparkle sorted out for this year...

A Crossdressing Adventure

There was a little thought brewing in my head the other night. I was stood out the back of my parents' new house, pondering life, forming the beginnings of a Major Theory™ in my head, when they arrived home and I had to stub out my fag and be sociable.

It was just a general thougt — but ne that took me back to this time four years ago when this whole malarky started for me.

At the time, I was a semi-closeted transvestite who'd never really experienced much of life outside her own four walls...

WHy do people say "these four walls" BTW? This isn't a particularly big house, and I've got seven walls in it

..but anyway. I'd never really done that much apart from wear stockings round the house. January 2002 though, all that changed.

THere's been a bit of a discussion recently on The Angels mailing list about How Transformation Are Bad™ — and although, in principle, I agree, if it wasn't for them I would be here today.

(Here, as in "online, confident, and ready to stick two fingers up the arse of anyone who doesn't take me seriously". That is)

Granted, they're shite. Granted, I've written about this befre. But in just a general Note To Self™, I really must write some kind of "Yeah, well fuck the lot of yous" response to it all.

But still, that's beyond the oint. The point is that I was stood then — in February 2002, regestering a domain name (February 7th, 2002 fact fans), about to embark on the single most interesting and exciting period of my life.

I was (truth be told) going to go on a "This Was My Year" post-frenzy in three days time (and I Might still), but it occurred to me that maybe I should write a "This Was My Four Years" post instead.

Because I was stood outside the back of a shitty suburban bungalow in Carrickfergus, armed with a cigarette and half a glass of wine, thinking to myself that I'm pretty-much in the same situation that I was four years ago.

I dunno — I can't really explain it. But it kinda feels like I'm on the verge of unfathomable excitement. If I'd know, four years ago, what was about to happen over the next 48 months, I'd have recoiled in shock. And, judging by my track-record, in another four years time I'll probably be thinking the same thing.

...

Look, just do me a favour OK? I've found myself at the end of this year in a totally different position to what I thought I'd find myself in. I've ended this year with an enormous, overwhelming sense of the "unknown" hanging over me. Not in a bad way — rather in a way that makes me wonder at the whole preposterousness of life and the weird curve-balls that life can throw at you.

I think that, really, I've poured my soul out on these pages enough over the past 48 months to at least deserve to flood the closing days of 2005 with a pile of self-absorbed shite

...

God. Get me. Two bottles of wine and I turn into a rabid teenager

It's very interesting shite, and I hope you carry on writing it

You should have seen the stuff I just deleted...