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...
Procrastination
You'll have to excuse my woe-betides mood last night. Let me try and explain...
The reason I don't think I've got the flat, is because of the backstory to the hilarious little quip I made in the middle of yesterday's post:
"Are you a complete financial disaster who made some stupid mistakes in the past that are forever going to haunt you and bite your arse every time you try and do something with your life?"
Without wanting to divulge too much of my own monetary position (which is Not The Done Thing™ on blogs), it's worth pointing out that I have, in the past, been a bit bloody useless in regards to a couple of things, and that as a result, there are certain 'black marks' against my name in various places.
Consequently, companies tend not to want to touch me with a bargepole.
Obviously, that sort of thing you have to declare in applications where large chunks of cash are going to be floating around, but I was encouraged slightly by the chirpiness of the Estate Agent, and his insistance that he'd try and find a way around it.
"I'll try and call you back this afternoon", he said.
...I still haven't heard anything — hence my despondancy and my assumption that Things Are Not Good™.
The logical course of action (I presume) would be for me to give them a quick buzz, and see if there was any progress. But here's where my Legendary Crapness™ kicks in — I'm sat here, panicking about this, scared of picking up the phone in case I somehow make matters worse.
"I'll wait until midday, then call them", I decided, an hour ago.
"Actually, maybe one o'clock would be better", I thought, half an hour ago.
"Hmm, perhaps I should nip out to the shops, then call them after their lunch-break is over"
Oh, I dunno. Funny, isn't it? This time last week, all I was worried about was some Regular Expressions and how the 'Summer' seemed to be slipping away too fast. But now I've got an enormous Knotted Ball Of Fretting™ in my stomach, knowing that I've got so close to moving on with my life, yet I'm held back by my own stupidity.
Twiggy
I'm not sure why, but I seem to prefer Drum to other types of tobacco. Maybe it's the taste, or maybe it's because it seems a little dryer than brands like Golden Virginia — making it a lot easier to smoke.
"It's quite 'twiggy' though, isn't it?" noted a friend once.
This bit though, is more like a branch than a twig
For elves perhaps.
...
I just rang the Estate Agents BTW. They said in situations like these, it's really up to the landlord to decide — which gives me a little hope, seeing as it's not a Computer Says No-type thing.
"Normally, we'd ask for six months up front", she said.
"Can you ask if three months would be OK?"
I'm waiting to hear back. I feel like Phil off of Location Location Location 
I feel like Phil...
Personally, I always feel like Kirstie. Still, no accounting for taste 
Chin-up chuck.
Not to worry — Golden Virginia has its fair share of twigs (and sometimes branches)... I must say, though, that I prefer Golden Virginia BECAUSE it's moist, and therefore easier (for me) to roll... As with IT and motorbikes, I wonder if roll-ups are popular amongst trannies?
The "black marks" don't hang around forever — speaking as a former bankrupt, who had a fair bit of difficulty renting a place in the past, it doesn't raise an eyebrow any more.
Keeping my fingers crossed for you!
Koan
Well the simple answer is to have a sex change....
I sort-of know a girl who had got into a HUGE amount of debt while she was transitioning and skipped town, a few months later when the bailiffs managed to track her down they basically said "we must be misinformed, we're looking for a bloke".
So the the moral of the story is don't pay your credit card and then only answer your front door in a dress.
Jobs a good'un.
Sebastian
Or, I could put a certain "Siobhan Curran" down as a reference...
Gordon Burns
Bored (as I am) I was flicking through the seldom-visited higher numbered channels, to see if anything vaguely interesting was on, and spotted a re-run of The Krypton Factor.
"God, he hasn't changed a bit", I thought flipping back down to BBC1 to compare with North West Tonight
Well, maybe he has.
His hair hasn't though 
Tish
"givin u evilz"
Why do I want to buy cat food and send it to Lancaster 
aahhh, the krapt'on factor. i always had empathy with the fat incoordinated person who always came last in the assault course.
I still want to do th assult course. 
Curran
When you look back and consider what you've created, do you ever ask yourself "What, in the name of God, have I done?"
I wonder whether God looks back at what (s)he's created and asks "What, in the name of Me, have I done?"
i'm married to richard dawkins and dont believe in god!
i'm married to richard dawkins
You're a Doctor Who assistant???
What, in the name of God, have I done?
You mean like: creating software to record / analyse staff skill-sets, which is subsequently used to make people (including yourself) redundant? Nah!
It looks like a teeny tiny shoehorn.