Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Saturday, 8 December 2012

Just my little tribute to Caligula, darling

Caligula was a bastard / Like most important men

Turns out that this particular line is pretty fitting for my work situation, but that's not why I'm on here tonight.  Over the November madness that was writing part of a novel I had a series running up on here on beautiful things.  I think I quite enjoyed it and so I hope to be continuing it off and on, like the beer reviews, in the future. It was nice to think that I could come on here and talk about thinks that are inspiring to me and also contain beauty and happiness.


The Girlie has been in a ballet show lately, the last one is on as I write, and it is quite a professional production all told. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's in a hall with a bunch of others from dance classes and it's all a bit twee in terms of choreography but it's streets ahead of the normal school nativity where half of them pick their noses, pull faces and fart a lot to the coos and delighted chuckles of the mainly parent filled audience. It, of course, allowed me to feel a bit of pride. Or, at least, I think that's what one is supposed to feel at these things. I'll be honest, I find it hard to know what to think and feel at such productions. It was good, of course, but most of the singers were too fast or slow or out of tune and the dances were all same-y (as one would expect when one teacher covers all of the classes) but differing in the ability of the students to actually carry out the moves required.

I'm finding that the energy I threw at here a year ago is being spent elsewhere this year: at the Google+ community that Joanna is a firm part of; at my job to keep afloat; and even a little at writing again, which I suppose was what was conspicuously absent from my life last year. In that, I think I find my greatest release in dressing but I find my lasting happiness and centre in my writing. When I combine the two I think I find the closest I ever get to feeling, not only like myself, but also like I can actually stop being in fear and being more in control.

I guess it is what some people find in captioning, but less visual and thus less popular on these here intertubes. Or, at least, people that describe themselves as writers are generally less likely to read than captioneers who caption are likely to share and develop their craft with others. I wonder why that should be so. Perhaps reading is the same but commenting is less. Hmm, one for the philosophers.

I'm sure I had more to say, but I must have mislaid it.

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!