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, 23 January 2017

Happy Evening

Time to myself. Time in a dress. I'm pretty happy right now.

If I look half as good as I felt...

I shall spam my site with pictures. I was originally planning to have a few more costume changes because of how long it's been since I got a chance to dress and indulge but, in the end, I didn't. I actually rather like the new dress. I say new, it was just the last one that I bought and I haven't really had a chance to try it. Plus, I was getting fatter back then. I am less fat now. Basically, it fit and I felt really very comfortable in it. Also in the boots. It was all very comfortable. It does mean that I have blown off work for the evening but I figure I don't get these opportunities very often. Certainly not since I packed my wardrobe into a big box on top of my actual physical wardrobe. And, yeah, about two hours is all I can afford. Totally worth it though. Totally worth it.

Having a bag was nice, not essential though
I did some cornertime on the app for about ten minutes just to get a nice feeling in my calves. Did the trick nicely. I like that feeling, you know, it's a nice one.

Quick and casual from the side. Not as good
as a full frontal shot.
All in all, a nice pick-me-up. Has it been over a year? Close on a year. Blimey.

Blurry but full light. No, I like the ensemble.
Looks great from the front!
And now, spam!


Spam spam spam!

Aaah. Thank you.

Wednesday, 11 January 2017

Ask not for whom the bell tolls

As usual at this time of year I am marking student work. As usual at this time of year I note that the work makes no or little reference to any of the revision undertaken in classes - dates are incorrect or ignored, things are essentially made up rather than based on knowledge and answers routinely contradict themselves or previous answers in a melange of shit that the student knows is a fiction as they write it.

This will be the fourth consecutive year in which the mock performance of those I am responsible for teaching is shit.

I may not have a job, or rather, may not have this job for much longer. I am at a loss as to how to improve this. I've increased the time taken for revision, I've held after school and lunchtime sessions to which students do not turn up or turn up in tiny numbers. I have targeted the sessions to the papers that the students will sit (I set the mock exam) and hinted strongly (i.e. told them) which topics will turn up. And still the shower of shit continues.

Four years running my Department has come last in the results at mock examinations and, last year, we came bottom in the real examinations too.

Back when I started this blog I got so stressed that I would routinely wish I was hit by a truck as I drove to work, waiting for an illness to knock me out to the point where I could justify not going in to work but then struggling in anyway when I was ill due to stress. And, in all that, my results were never this bad. On paper, the students there were not as good as the students now. I was pilloried at my last place for failing students and my results were still significantly better than the ones I am now looking at. And I'm not being harsh. I'm being generous with my marking.

The vultures are circling again. I'm not sure I want to fight them off again. Oh, and look, it coincides with a new child. How totally surprising.

Thursday, 5 January 2017

Darkness

I think this is a decent enough representation of light.

Lovely cardigan too though, which I can't help but comment on
because I am fickle and a bit obsessive.

Obviously.
In my last post I talked about lights and shining them. And I stand by that, there are so many people with light, however small and however much they ignore it or do not recognise their own, that guides me and reminds me that the world is not as dark as it sometimes appears. Many of those links are over there on the right. But, to name names, we have Dee, Rhiannon, Terri, L M Williams and so many more. I shan't name all the names, it takes too long.

And in my own life I struggle to see any light I may have. Every time I think I've found some, things happen that either shadow it or reveal it to be naught but a reflection in burnished bronze as the elements take hold and some distant light source is being shrouded from me, the wink of a setting sun in the glass on the table.

Which leads me to peer into the darkness, looking for answers and pondering the deep black. Sometimes the black looks back.

Sometimes one puts on the blindfold oneself.
I heard last night the shock news that a couple of weeks after I visited a friend and ex-colleague Oop North his wife left him and the children, it was known but the whole affair was completely demoralising. It was three months ago. I heard last night. Today I was asked if I would like to step aside from my position at work, take a lower one (same pay) and make way for an up-and-coming colleague instead, against previous conversations where I was being asked to step up to allow that colleague to take responsibility. That is, a sideways move was being mooted instead of an upward one, and a sideways move to something more precarious, which is already known to be a creation based on aspects that may not last. It was delivered with a smile but the person delivering these questions is a man who revels in his reputation as 'the smiling assassin'. His words. One of the suggestions made was that I would not have to look over my shoulder regarding results (to report the words almost as they were spoken). I wonder what that exchange says to others.

Intense loneliness of the sort described in the drama actually
sounded less existentially dreadful and more almost hauntingly
and achingly beautiful. To commune with the woods and the
birds and the lake in the silence with that sharp tang of the
cold wind and the knowledge that in the firelight one could
drink and sing. That, to me, would be heavenly.

It's probably part of my autism that the concept of being able
not to talk on long car journeys and find that it is acceptable
to be direct and use few words, to be precise, is something akin
to real happiness. It was framed as something awful.

A language without shades of meaning? A language that relies
on being direct? Wonderful.
I listened to a drama on Radio 4 on the way home, after spending two hours helping a student who ought to have been expelled (no, really) but who the school has agreed to provide provision for through me. I get paid for this, extra, but it was hard work - the student is somewhat averse to writing and recording information. Yes, this is being done as mandated good will. Anyway, the drama was about someone having moved to Sweden and feeling intense loneliness (and being an utter knob-end) due to differing customs. That feeling of being alone around other human beings, of being isolated and not really knowing why or how; of not being able to read emotions and customs and rituals always with the faint feeling that one is being set up and laughed at for trying so hard - so that one is never really aware of what is really a ritual and what is a set up to make an ass of you. I know that feeling well and have noticed it increasingly the more I read and understand Asperger's and my own variations on those themes which increasingly turn out to be related to Asperger's.


And, tonight, I type these words rather than working because I am tired and the lights are going out again. No, not out, they are being shadowed and hidden by my own blackness. I know this.



Sunday, 1 January 2017

2017

Happy New Year to you all!


I haven't been posting but the new year deserves some recognition. I know that many people I know have had a pretty rocky 2016 for one reason or another and I know that many people I don't know have had even worse years this last one. However, I firmly believe that we should all continue to strive to make the world a better place, to shine our very small lights in a world of increasing darkness and help others to shine theirs.


Our lights may be small, but they are important. And shining them will encourage others to shine theirs. Shine enough and others will join you, because light can be comforting when  the outside is cold and dark. When the cruel winds blow all about and the night claws its way past the curtains, when lights are snuffed out by the millions, thousands, hundreds, tens and singly... it can feel as though, to stay safe, one must douse your own light. But don't. Even a candle can be seen in a storm and the tiniest LED can depict hope for a lost traveller.


I, for one, pray that we can all provide at least our own light as the world darkens, as the forces conspire against decency and protection. Because 2016 was not a malevolent force, it was a numerical depiction of a period of time in which foundations were laid for larger and more terrifying things. If History as taught me nothing else it has taught me that now, more than previously, our lights are important. And we may be snuffed out, but we must burn brightly until the end, and not be ashamed.


Love to you all,

Joanna