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, 2 February 2015

Better at being Me

I'm not sure I can claim to be a 'creative' any more. I have done
nothing worthy of the name for a good year or more.

Unless you count beer reviews...

I don't.
I've said it before and I shall say it again, here in fact: Tilly is better at being me than I ever have been. She is a better writer, a better organiser, a better parent and a better teacher of people. She is more social and is better at becoming part of a group. She 'belongs' in a way that I can only palely imitate. Whilst I end up doing stupid things for my job, like being a zombie in Thriller in the latest talent show, she is writing a book to a contract for an actual publisher and is currently engaged in a phone conversation with her mother about her latest novel project with her writing buddy. She is actually having a useful conversation about her work with her mother. Neither of my parents have ever managed much more than "I'm not into what you write" or "yes, that sounds fine, but does it always have to be about war?"

Me, I guess.
When it comes to my job, my father still adheres to the belief that all teachers are lazy bastards and slightly deranged, and has issues parsing that with what I do. My mother listens only long enough to then come back with what is going on at her end. She and her husband went on a trip to celebrate their sixth anniversary recently, booking a prestigious hotel to have sexy times a bit and have been there for a long weekend. That was a bit of a sad moment. My brother and his wife don't give much of a fuck what I'm up to these days, if they ever did, and certainly have never been interested in anything that I produce.

Despite all my rhetoric, I do feel that there is truth to this.
Of course there is, it is outside validation of a talent and
a butt-load of hard work.

The second part is why I shall never achieve this. The first
part is also why.
Did I mention that Tilly's writing buddy is also going to be published soon? Or that they are working on a joint project with publishers lining up to offer deals? Or that none of my family wants to attend the school talent show and wouldn't even if I asked. The reaction to the upcoming half term was shock from Tilly, who hadn't expected it this early: "Oh God," she said to her Mum, "I don't even know what we're going to do when he's at home!" (that 'he' is me). She wants me to build a deep bed in the garden and erect shelves for the books she's using for her research. At least she's abandoned the project of emptying my wardrobe, binning it and re-packing all my stuff in the bedroom, and thus at a stroke ending opportunities to dress for a good long while.

I sent an e-mail to Tilly. She hasn't really answered yet. I've spoken more eloquently about this already, in this post and this post. Nothing has changed since then, except that my mood is much less balanced and sanguine than it was then.

No comments:

Post a Comment

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