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...
A Quip
Four Senior Lecturers are sitting on a train, discussing the lack of a 'doubleyou' sound in Swedish...
A: I can't think of a word in Swedish that has a 'W' in it
S: Really?
D: No, me neither
M: Um, how about "Sweden?"
Oh how we laughed 
Lindsay
More Projector Fun
"Um, Siobhan? I can't get the projector to show what's on my video camera."
We leave the comfort and safety of my little Mac Empire™, and trot off down the corridor to the studio to find everything plugged in, everything turned on, the right plugs in the right sockets — but nothing on the screen.
"See?"
"Hmm, everything looks OK ... oh, hold on"
I bend down, and press "Play" on the camera...
You're making this up...
Grille
I asked a customer to put a loop back adapter in an E1 port once to confirm the port was OK, he tied a loop in the cable and plugged it back in.....................
Jenna
I'm overseeing a webcast tomorrow, and have been asked whether viewers will need access to computers.
No; we're broadcasting straight to people's optic nerves....
Priceless! Both!
I, Zombie
D'ya know, it's been a looooong time since I had a day-long hangover. But I've got one right now.
Last night, me and m'colleagues went round to one of our houses for a soirée — some grub (yummy), some chit-chat (shop) and some wine (slosh). The thing is though, we preceeded all of this with several pints in pubs (two).
(If you're ever in Saltaire, try Fanny's Bar on the main road — a pub with fab beer and a cosy atmosphere There was a sign on the wall that read something along the lines of "Native-speaking Portugese teacher will teach you in your own home" — we came to the conclusion that was special secret Saltaire code for something much more exciting)
The pedantic recorder/documenter (ie. man) in me, for some reason, feels the need to note what I (think) I drank last night, over the course of the evening...
- Guinness: 2 ½ pints.
- Cider: 2 pints (semi-strong)
- Wine: 2 ½ bottles.
We chatted, we laughed, we Put The World To Rights™. We generally had a lovely evening, and we should do more of them I think. As I stumbled up my friend's (rather posh) stairs, I glanced at my phone to see what time it was.
Four o'clock in the frigging morning?!
I have been wandering around with glazed eyes and a permanent yawn all day.
...
I seem to recall spending a large proportion of the time apologising to my friend's wife about how we were all talking shop. I know how tedious it can be, but at the same time it's almost inevitable.
One of the things we were discussing was just how little time within our jobs we get to actually talk about what's going on — whenever we have meetings, we're constantly interrupted by students wanting to borrow things like Stanley Knives.
So, technically I summised, last night was actually a "meeting" — and we should get overtime 
...
I am now at home. The fire's lit, and I'm about to wash my hair (because it's hideously greasy). I'm slightly annoyed with myself, because I've run out of conditioner (Pantene Full and Thick — swear by it ), but there was no way I was going into Sainsburys looking as bad as I look right now 
The thing is though — well, two things really: (1) Despite a pretty clear run on the way home, that was one of the most tedious journeys back from Leeds I've had. I really wanted to get back, and not even the excitement of flinging myself round twists and curves conpensated for how rough I feel today.
(2) Despite (I hate starting consecutive sentences with the same word) feeling like death warmed up today, I've been in a really good mood — much better than I've been feeling of late. Dunno why.
In the car, I was interviewing myself (don't ask) and trying to tackle the questions (a) How did I start blogging, and (b) why do I keep doing it (the latter is less anecdotal, but more interesting).
I came to muddled conclusions. If anyone is interested, I'll try to explain.
Later.
KMP
Oh yeah, must just mention that April has completely made-over her site.
Love it — love the aesthetics, and the Flickr-integrated yumminess. Now all I need to do is convince her to have more pictures of ME on it...
Disconcerting/Promising
OK, (sorry about this) that was weird...
I put the laptop down, take a swig of wine (Hair Of The Dog™) and trot upstairs to wash my hair.
There, confronting me in the bathroom, is Tish — standing on the toilet seat. He jumps off, and I take a quick peak, only to have my suspicions confirmed.
At the bottom of the toilet, is a small piece of cat-poo :-o
I don't know whether to be impressed, grateful, or scared
In my experience, he's just letting you know that he knows.
...and what he'll do to your bed if you keep going on your little human trips away during the week.
So yes, you should be scared.
Time to teach Tish how to flush.
Then you can boast that Tish is properly housetrained
Serena Mayfly
Flushing? Pah! When she starts using the Toilet Duck (without presenting it to you along with other feathered friends as a gift) you can claim she is housetrained.
OK, how many times do I have to say this, but Tish is a he (last time I checked)
And also, call me a beligerent drunken fool who cares too much about comment-systems, self validation, and the like ... but I'm taking it as read that no-one actually wants to listen to me wax lyrical about why I blog, and I should just tell stories about my cats?
Did I mention the mouse that they left me the other day BTW? The one that had tried to build a home out of my (physical) diary?
Hey, we do also want to hear you waxing lyrical, telling tales about meeting John Peel, students who don't know what an 'on' switch is, and flouncing around the house in wedding dresses.
And you get to do a lot of cool stuff that us closet trannies don't
I get enough cat stuff from my five, and the friend who keeps sending me links to photos and videos of talking cats and sleepy kittens. Only cat site she sent me that I wanted to visit more than once was Mean Kitty
Serena Mayfly
You might want to look at the Trademark symbol after "Hair Of The Dog" there Siobhan. If I'm not mistaken the text has just gotten mixed up with your smiley.
Sverige.