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. 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 "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" 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, 18 January 2013


My feeling of happiness, of peace, has more or less carried me through the week. I don't quite know why I am surprised by that, I've said before that simply wearing knickers to work was enough to keep me happy and productive back in summer 2011, and so it would follow that indulging to the heights that I did last Saturday would make a bigger effect.

This sort of meal. I'm hungry just looking at it!
Of course I want to do it again, I am hungry to repeat the experience. Like when one enjoys a particularly fine cake as a treat or goes to a posh restaurant, there is that part of you that wants to return to eat there and have the same meal right now. However, I do also know that indulging that urge too early or too much will only make the special more pedestrian. So I know that anticipation and the wait and the longing and the wonderful memory makes the repeat performance all the sweeter. I was therefore not planning to indulge tonight when Tilly went to meet her NaNo friend at the pub for a meal. Good thing too, there's snow afoot and the place the friend was coming from is looking dicey so it's been cancelled. If I had been planning an indulgence session then I would have been irritable and ratty about it - this I also know from experience. As it is, God is possibly smiling.

Doves symbolise peace. So, a dove for you!
I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want to characterise my favourite imaginary friend who I believe created the Universe as being someone that only looks out for me and somehow condones everything that I do. You know, the sort of omnipotent imaginary friend that only pops in to our reality every now again, grants a prayer for a parking space and then lies inactive until you cast God summoning +1 again. But I do get the feeling that, after last Saturday and even during it, God is pleased that I found some peace. Maybe that I found the peace that God allowed. I don't know. I have no clue what God thinks about cross-dressing as a habit, addiction of compulsion. Increasingly I see it as less of a choice and more of a thing that is something I do, part of me that I can no more live without than I could my internal organs. If that is true then I must believe, if I believe I was created with a plan in mind, that this part of me was also created with love. Doesn't mean it is condoned or even 'right' but it is something. Some children are born with horrific defects and inherited diseases, they were still created with love.

Huh. I didn't even know I thought all that last paragraph until I wrote it just now. I guess my favourite imaginary friend is ineffable in some ways.

Because there are very few times when I
like photos of me. And I like this one of me.
There have been tribulations at work, I have been denied something I was originally granted that leaves me about £400 out of pocket and the possibility of losing a lucrative career with another company, but the very fact that I haven't been on here to moan, whinge and complain about it speaks volumes for the power of that Saturday night. I did have much longer en femme than I expected, maybe about three hours all told, and I loved the opportunity to really let it all out. No skulking around and no fear of discovery. Even wearing a necklace was liberating. It almost makes me want to invest in some make-up for those times, it would last forever given how long it is between such sessions and I believe I've already shared how much I enjoy mascara and eye shadow. But, equally, I know that this is an empty thought right now, we're not poverty stricken but things will be tight for a good while yet.

And anyway, Tilly is off to see Les Miserables again tomorrow night.

Before I forget, may I thank Elle most profusely for a lovely, and entirely unexpected, caption series that she made for me over the last week. I am blushing about it even now, in an entirely good way! Also, check out the following from Fredoline, why? Because it does a pretty good job at catching my own mental state regarding clothes designed for women.

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