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!

Friday, 13 March 2015

Filthy Hope

Yes, this was very much on my mind this morning.

I woke up this morning having spent the night sleeping in the bottom bunk of the Boy's bed with the Boy cuddled beside me with a waking dream about choosing this Red Nose Day to wear 'fancy dress' to school. I would don my lovely lavender dress with my purple collar above a high-collared white blouse with sleeves that would fall down over my hands. On top of those sleeves I would wear my white watch with the pink face. Beneath the skirt I would wear a petticoat and my purple tights along with my boots. It was a nice dream. I won't deny that it was the sort of dream that sent my blood racing or that had me wishing that I could lie in bed longer but, at the same time, there was a note of longing.


Can you imagine how much prettier this would
be with the tights, a petticoat, the collar, a
watch and a long sleeved blouse?
Terri has blogged about the power of dreams and the desire to know what they mean whilst, at the same time, realising that dreams such as these are pretty easy to understand and to interpret as they are so straight-forward. This was a straight-forward dream. At the turn of the year I had had another such dream where I simply woke up as a woman. I was less awake though and so it took on a more involved aspect and less blood pumping around - I woke up and noticed that the place I was in was very different. Everything felt strange, smells were stronger and totally unfamiliar, I felt out of place but also infinitely more at home and comfortable in my own skin. Of course I was a female and I learned that I was in a different area of the country and looked very different from what I would have expected. It put me in mind of the Great Shift style of stories. It lingered and I toyed with the idea of turning it into a story with a bit of a difference. I have been reading TG stories on Deviant Art and on fictionmania and it strikes me how few of them deal with the existential aspects of sudden changes to gender and place and time. Most of the characters seem to jump straight to the feel of clothes on skin or the obvious places that sudden;y provide enhanced sexual feedback (of course). It was this aspect of unrealism, as opposed to the actual situation itself, that usually had me cease the suspension of disbelief. I find that an odd thing to focus on, but there it is.

I was in the Boy's bed because the pox has finally spread to my Girlie and she doesn't do being ill in the same way. She takes after her mother and gets angry with everyone else in the room about how bad she feels. Misery loves company and the Girlie knows how to share that effectively. She hasn't slept properly now for three nights and Tilly has gone through tiredness to grumpiness to anger to resignation and a need to be alone. I don't blame her for that. Meanwhile, I have been having some early nights after a big week and a couple of days where I simply haven't stopped but no corresponding early mornings. This has meant I still haven't had a chance to dress in the mornings, explaining my dream this morning.

Have you found Adult Wednesday Addams? You should.


And that will do for an update!


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