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...
Randomness
There were a million and one things I was going to write about this evening — not least of them being a memory-based transcript of a two-hour conversation I had with myself in the car on the way over to Leeds on Tuesday.
God, you missed a treat — it was a full-on discussion about self-editing, personal projection, inappropriateness, picture-whoring, and dressing up as a schoolgirl. Lucidly wrapped-up in the context of someone who perhaps needed more sleep.
But, like I said, the moment has passed.
I also thought maybe I'd write at great lengths about just how cool this week was — from the sudden influx of students who've maybe realised that 6 weeks left of term means maybe they should do some work, right through to playing hostess to exciting up-and-coming Belgian artists (singular).
...
But no. Nothing bursting out of my head tonight — just a sense of tiredness, exhaustion, and and inate horniness that I can only actually satisfy myself, thankyouverymuch.
The only thing I wanted to share, was a bizarre realisation last night that I Do Not Have Anything Resembling Gaydar™
There was once a lovely joke made by a friend of mine in the middle of a chatroom discourse. It went something like this...
<random tranny>Do we have an equivalent of Gaydar?
<my friend>Yes. Big hands.
So there's this guy right, and he's staring into my eyes, he's flirting obviously, he's spending the whole evening talking to my crotch, and then this conversation happens:
"So are you married?"
"Yes, we have three kids"
...
One last thing. The picture I posted last night...
I was wondering if it was the same bar as this
I fear the carpets don't match 
But still — it was a horrible bar. We got to the station with about an hour to kill before our train, and decided to continue the night as it had started. I had a glass of red wine, sipped a bit, and went...
*ew*
It was like, vinegar.
Then, because I'd shoved noodles down my face all evening, and needed a poo, I went to the toilet ... to be confronted with someone else's dinner, neatly arranged in pasta-gloriousness in the toilet.
Standing, freezing on Leeds Station, is preferable than going into its pubs. I feel.
...
It was cold. I used to have at least two testicles...
Oh and as for Gaydar, Sydney's GLBT Mardi Gras season winds up tomorrow, with the parade and party. At the current time you can't walk 4 paces without coming across overseas men, buffed within an inch of their lives, striding around town.
My Gaydar is worn out.
Currantly Listening to...
You know that thing that people do on their blogs that gives an 'insight' into the type of person they are — that "I am listenting to this music therefore I am cool"?
I am currently listening to José González, and I am currently not cool at all. In fact, I'm currently beating myself around the head with the Inappropriate Stick™
I know that bar at Leeds Station. Shit, changed the carpet though since I was last there... I think.
Jane, sorry, is there a single bar in Leeds that I've been in that you don't know? 
I think that one that Lindsay's in is now a Marks And Spencers now though
Woo José! The best guitar weilding telly salesman for many a year.
Me. Want. Wega
Must... Resist. Bouncing... Balls. San... Francisco. Reference.
This is why I need to re-do my weblog — random squirted links to 'more passe than me" weblog appearing out of the blue is Not A Goog Thing™
You also need to re-do your reading list. It appears to have shrunk to a size that's quite small, and more importantly I'm not on it. 
I'm not sure if that's the same pub. It's been two years now since I was there, but it seems like much longer! I have many horrid memories of the Leeds train station — the worst was when a friend and I went to Manchester for the day instead of staying over at a friend's house, and consequently had to wait outside in the longest queue on earth for a taxi for about two hours, in the freezing cold and rain. NEVER AGAIN.
Lindsay
Out of curiosity. What else are you listening to at the mo?
I don't why people insist on putting such brainless, tasteless rubbish in their blog sidebar. Why do they think anyone cares what they listen to anyway??
I also don't know why the word blog is considered dubious spelling
If I could put real HTML in my sidebar, I'd do it. But till then, my charts reside on my livejournal userinfo. It was the best I could do.
You should try that bar on a Saturday evening, after the match has finished. Not for the faint hearted, especially when supporters are transiting through on their way to Newcastle, Sheffield and the North West.
The Prince of Wales round the corner, well that used to be a different kettle of fish.