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...
I Mean, C'mon, Do I Look Like A Bricklayer?
Once a year, the Divine Order Of Them Upstairs™ un-mothball the University Tent, park it up in Leeds, and trot our Proud And Happy™ students through the eternal treadmill known more colloquially as "Graduation".
Traditionally, it's my role to sit at the back with the other Naughty Academics™ and snigger at how silly they all look in their mortar board hats.
This year however, I have decided to be brave and join the Procession — meaning I have to garb myself up in a suit and a gown¹.
"What hat size are you Siobhan?" asked a colleague on the phone the other day as she was filling in my form for hiring the outfits.
"I'm not telling you. I don't want to wear a hat", says I.
There are two specific reasons for this BTW:
I look stoopid in a mortarboard.
Because I graduated from the same Uni, I wear the same gown as the students (albeit with a minor 'MA' trim — ie. extra-long sleeves). And the last thing I want to do is look identical to them.
Skip forward to yesterday...
"So yeah, we don't have to wear hats do we?"
"Um, yes, we do actually"
"Shit"
Next Friday will be a camera-embargoed event 
¹ I know! How hilarious! Me wearing a "gown"! Oh the irony. Actually, it was suggested by one of my colleagues that really I should wear a wedding dress underneath my gown. If only I had the balls...
Happy Hat
THREE hats eh?
Blimey
So Not Going To Fit
ack I dunno... I bet it you gave it a really big push......
For what it's worth, his brother just spent the entire evening farting in my face 
Everyone looks stoopid in a mortar board. I have pictures of me. I look dumb. And like a boy. Which is worse.
yes I looked like a boy at my graduation, but hey, I guess I am 
Only one thing worse than cat farts, and that's dog ones.
Joanna: quite right. There's a reason Jack (that pampered cat) dislikes my claw-proof boots....
He really didn't fit through the original door catflap though — it had to be enlarged. I've never heard of a cat having that much of a weight problem!
He's about the size of two Biscuits you know
(Watched Serenity last night BTW — had Gus curled up next to me the whole time. It was him who was farting)
Nice hat Siobhan!!... I've got THREE of those.