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!

Sunday, 17 February 2013

The return of the Mack: this time it's personal!

Yeah, after a bottle of beer or two I'm pretty much
anybody's.
Last night I had a couple of beers and tried very hard to write something useful and worthwhile here. It has been a very long time since I really blogged properly and I spent a good long while staring at the white space of an empty page. When I finally got round to typing anything I was very tipsy and finished with a badly juxtaposed image that I had stolen from another site.

This got me thinking: is it right that I download images from other sites at all? I mean, I know that the copyright issue is fraught to begin with when it comes to captioned images in general, let alone with the TG world, but there is a certain element of creativity in the caption that I think is very much owned by their creators. Quite apart from the moral implications of viewing such images (that isn't the same moral issue for everyone, by the way, just me at this point) and using them to, well, get myself going. It is one thing to do this very much in private, visiting other sites and posting comments now and again, and quite another, I feel, to post someone else's well-crafted caption here.

Pretty much my reaction when I saw the stats that
yesterday's post brought. Mind you, my last post before
that brought the highest level of views too.
Why is this something I'm posting about? Well, the wonderful image that I finished my last post with was from a wonderful creator, to whom I go if I need to get myself going, so to speak, and I posted it because there was no other image for the post and I didn't really want a wall of text to be my returning post. Also there was the fact that it was late and I didn't really want to spend my usual amount of time looking for relevant and helpful images after having failed to write a bunch of reviews about the beer I've drunk since... Actually, since before Christmas and last night. And I got massive amounts of hits. I mean truly massive. Not for the post itself, for the blog. I have never known anything like it - high into three figures! So, I find myself mulling over the moralities of it all.

How I've been feeling, in amongst
the massive exhaustion, about
life lately. I wish I could look
that good in that blouse.
Also, it's been a long absence and, like I said, I find it hard to come back here and post anything very much. I have kept a weather-eye on my usual haunts, keeping up with other people who I find myself listing more and more as people I care about, but have been largely unable to do much else. Since the end of the holidays there has been the inevitable kick-off at work, where my own stupidity led me to spend about two weeks marking everything I had up to date. This doesn't sound like a big deal until you look at the stats. In any case, coupling that with the Boy's fracture, that may not have been a fracture, and several visits to the fracture clinic into the late evening, on top of the marking, and then the recent School Inspection and you have a recipe for me to have been living most of the last three or four weeks almost entirely in my head. Even when I had finished the lion's share of the work on Wednesday night last week I ended up so exhausted that I fell asleep and then there was Thursday and then I fell asleep Friday as well. Last night was the first night that I actually felt awake enough to do, well, anything other than work or sleep.

Not that it's been all unremittingly awful, you understand, just really hard to cope with for someone who has grown somewhat fond of being generally lazy.

Because Tilly like pink roses and I like buying
her flowers.
No, Thursday night was a positive one. I had made my mind up to be a bit romantic with Tilly come what may. So I bought her some Rose wine (can't seem to do accents here); chocolates and some pink roses. I'd already got her a nice card. She was genuinely pleased to receive these in a way that I wasn't expecting. In all honesty, I was expecting the usual response to any romantic gestures of a smile and a worry about what I might want in return. This time she was positive. We had takeout - my choice for a change - and then we settled down to watch a series that I'd got for Christmas from my father. More on that another time.

However, despite the success of the gifts and the romance that even Tilly admitted was present, that was the end of it. We watched on separate chairs and she had her laptop from the beginning. I suggested sitting together and was shot down, politely but firmly, and that has been the way of things. I suppose I shouldn't complain, there have been a few more hugs initiated by Tilly over the last few days than normal, in that there are any hugs initiated by Tilly, and we are talking more. But the strain remains and there is still a gulf of distance to be crossed that I don't see being bridged any time soon.

A look I wish I could pull
off.
On the other fronts: the Boy has been successfully moved back into his bed after his fracture-sparked sojourn in the Big Bed (something about having a nine foot wide bed means we can afford to spread out there, useful when a Boy breaks something) and so Tilly and I ought to share a bed tonight. Of course, this will likely mean nothing - we have separate duvets and pillows and bedding, so it's really more two single beds pushed up against one another but without the reasoning behind it - but the principle is there.

Oh, I'm definitely back, aren't I, really long post of random information!

Right, so, something else. Terri has been posting some of the stories that have touched her in the past and so I thought I'd steal another idea and do the same. Tonight, I shall post about a favourite from a very long time ago, shorter than I remembered it, that really used to make me come back to keep reading over and over again. It wasn't my first story from fictionmania (where else?), as that appears to have completely disappeared (a slightly furry tale of a man being sent to work as a fox, yes you read that correctly, on a farm), and it isn't the best hypnosis story (which I shall post about another time) but it is one that may be of interest. Without further ado: Heart Shaped Box. Enjoy, or not. I do not believe that another part was ever added, which is a shame, I would have liked to see where the story went next. Something about the complexity forced on the central male, and the type of complexity, I've always found to be of interest. I have no idea why that should be the case, but perhaps I am not alone.

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