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!

Thursday, 19 September 2013

Rebecca Jane

This is a good concept of what I would
love to look like as Rebecca.
Last night I dropped off all the boxes I brought from home in two trips to our new house. In one trip. I tetris'd them into the car and took them all over. An hour spent talking to, rather listening to, our lovely vendors reminisce about the house they've had for thirty years (the least I could do) and just nodding at what they told me. And fifty minutes there and back meant that it was a late night with plenty left to do in the morning. Cue my first stressed morning at work of the new place and my first brace of mistakes, missed messages and confusion. Nevertheless, I am still enjoying the new place, there are many creaky and old aspects, many areas that could be changed to be slightly better with a fair bit of effort but nothing that is pressing. I even got complimented on my stats by members of my department!



Joanna Newsom of the Wire fame. Yes. I sigh
wistfully.
Tonight, therefore, I have nothing to do. In a good way. I have a free evening. I'm drinking some beer, wearing my dress (still only have one), tights, wedge/heels and a stuffed bra. And it is, as it has always been, very relaxing. There is a difference wearing the wedge/heels with wearing my boots, I can't flex my feet the same (the heels are much thinner) and so I find myself swinging my knees to one side, essentially sitting side saddle, and that is a lovely feeling. I don't know why that should be so.

On the drive last night I remember thinking that I would welcome a chance to ride side-saddle on a motorbike, to be the biker bitch I guess, to a female rider. Silly, because it would never happen, but I suppose that is part of it. Also, I wonder if Joanna or Rebecca, my alter-ego names, have middle names? I suspect that they do. I went shopping for tea last night (and failed) to try and avoid a late cooking of a meal (I ate at 10pm) and, whilst I was there, I saw and bought a named Coke bottle: Rebecca. I couldn't find a Joanna despite looking quite a lot for it.

I would love to be that passenger.

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