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!

Monday, 24 March 2014

Pounding Headache

I've only ever had one migraine. It was Christmas three years(?) ago and it was chiefly down to, I think, an excess of caffeine and stress. I no longer have the stress, seriously, no matter how bad things get at work or at home at present it will never be as bad as things were three years ago. I am not feeling under threat at work and Tilly even referred to me as 'wonderful' two days back. Granted, this was sarcastic, but it's still a sobriquet she has not used about me since before the birth of the Boy. I have a headache again, it's related to the enormous (for me) amounts of coke like beverage I have consumed.


Why so much?

Yep, that's about the size of it.
I can listen to my alarm, and turn it off before Tilly hears it,
six times every morning. And then sleep in.
And not make lunch and skip breakfast.
Tiredness I suppose. I'm being unhelpful by staying up late and getting up early. Hence the need for pick-ups and stuff to stay awake and effective at work and at home. It's silly and I know it. I'm also attempting to survive a most awful novel by re-writing it. It's a friend of Tilly's, who is giving self-publishing a bad name. A shame, I know of plenty of self-published authors who are decent writers and would wow you, as a reader, if you read them. This... is not one of those authors. She started her opus when she was around 19, got interrupted by children, and completed it last year. It is very clear that her idea of editing is to add more sections and words and cut entire sections. None of what she wrote at 19 has been amended to take account of her changed life experiences or, seemingly, any changes in writing style. So there are truly awful descriptions of a kiss and a date, for example, born of naive 19 year old fantasy; along with references to how hard family life must be that are taken from her current position. Conversations are related without actual conversation and entire paragraphs are given over to (rather repetitive) descriptions of walls and rituals.

Yeah, that's how I feel after reading it.

I am getting very sweary of late...
The latter wouldn't be so bad but for the rather oddly placed vague references. For example: "After cutting up the assorted animal parts he placed them in a bowl. It was impossible to tell what they were and so she stopped looking, by now she was used to the rituals involving blood, and so when [name] went around to collect all their blood in a bowl she did not flinch from the knife, then he threw the assorted animal parts, of various types, into the fire. The flames of the fire spit and twisted into strange shapes and she could see shapes of humans and animals in the flames. Captivating, strange and ever so slightly morbid." This is an actual, genuine, paragraph. I mean, fair play, the last sentence isn't so bad but... eesh.

And I am close to this with that class.
Frustrating experience with one of my classes today. I actually had to admit defeat and pretty much kill the entire lesson. Two of the students were fucking singing. Two tried (and failed) to noisily beat-box (unconnected) and the students attempting to do the task I had set were actually unable to do so because of the noise, the stupidity and ill-behaviour of others. I have ten years of experience and I couldn't make it work. I don't know who I'm angry at more: the students for being tits (not the hard working ones, obviously) or me for being unable to maintain control. I confess I got genuinely angry, which is bad. A teacher should never get genuinely angry with students. Still, we shall see what tomorrow brings.

On Sunday there was a follow-up to the Auschwitz visit. I'll be honest, I was kind of looking forward to it as a chance to, well, make sense of my visit. Alas, despite being compelled to attend I was asked to sit out of the activities and discussions (fair enough I guess, but then why ask me to turn up?) and ended up getting... uh, nothing out of it. Four hours of my life they took, for no gain or even a chance to talk about what I'd seen. Ah well, I guess adults are supposed to be able to deal with such things. I've ranted at Tilly about it (the visit, not the seminar) which is about as helpful as I guess Tilly can be. My mother, who has been twice(?) has been less than helpful. I strongly suspect that, if I am autistic, it is through my mother that I am so (in that she is autistic, not that she created the autistic tendencies in me). Mind you, what, exactly, am I looking for here?

Right, if I'm rewriting that shit novel I'd best go do that.


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