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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!

Monday, 12 May 2014

Beards, Singing and Dresses

Conchita Wurst, ladies and gentlemen. Yes, that does mean
"cutie sausage" in a mangled version of English, Spanish
and German.
It was Eurovision over the weekend. That is usually enough to keep me away from the internets in any sense that makes sense but, this time, without a TV aerial or cable we had to hook up my laptop to the TV in order to watch anything at all. We spent about thirty quid on the cables to make it happen - we do take Eurovision rather seriously in our household - and we settled back to enjoy. Sacrificing my laptop to watch is fine, the first Eurovision that Tilly and I shared in 2007 I think I've spoken of before. Romantic fool that I am, I bought the DVD to watch together and remember. Of course, we haven't ever watched it together since. The winner, Austria's entry, was a bearded transvestite who self-identifies as a woman in costume but as a man the rest of the time - hence the beard. It was as much a comment on Russia's anti-gay laws as it was on singing (though it was a Bond-theme style song, and they tend to do well for reasons that I have never been able to understand, they aren't really my bag).

Romeo Clark. Gender hero?
Tonight I also came home to news that there was a boy in Rugby, Warwickshire, who had been excluded from an after-school club at the age of five for wearing the wrong clothes. That is, he would be allowed back in to the afternoon club on Wednesdays is he wore clothes "that matched the gender on the application form, which is male" and that this measure was to "protect the children sharing a space from upset and confusion and also to do with safeguarding, which the club takes seriously, to prevent bullying". He wears Disney dresses. The fact that Tilly told me this tidbit with a specific reference to "your sort of thing" and a caveat that she didn't "want any debate on it" is also interesting. She is supportive of the child (the Boy is similar I guess) but both she and I detect something else about the story that is unsettling. It's in the Daily Hei- Mail and the comments are what you would expect, about 80-20 split between support (80) and horror about a boy not being "allowed" to be a boy (20).

So, how does all of this relate to my life at present?

Let's take Eurovision. Why not? And start with the fact that we had been building to this for a while, spending actual money on being able to watch it live. We organised getting some take out in and some alcohol. It was fish and chips for Tilly and battered sausage chips and gravy for me. Now, the gravy was separate and we had some refundage for reasons that meant the whole thing was pleasantly and surprisingly cheap. Tilly checked the food over, pronounced which was mine and wandered off with the other portion. It didn't look like sausage but who was I to argue? I assumed that Tilly had checked both. I added gravy. Tilly then found she had sausage. Of course. Did you see this coming? Tilly is rather picky with food and anything that gravy has touched cannot be eaten. I'd put gravy everywhere. So, she passively aggressively informs me that she doesn't blame me for the mistake but she won't eat sausage and won't eat what I have put gravy on. Looks like I'm getting extra food free and she'll just have to make do with left over chicken from the children. Oh, yes, that was a stonking start.

Down about her meal, there were then some streaming issues and poor quality picture that caused another round of huffing and puffing. Then she revealed that she was feeling ill, probably due to her period, and that she was tired. As the evening progressed Tilly became increasingly engrossed with her laptop and more and more irritated with the contest. Conversation (keep in mind I have no laptop or other output) dwindled as Tilly had some wine. But that was tainted and as ash. Eventually she grunted as her main form of communication and, after about half an hour, I caved and got the Boy's tablet computer to go online. I promptly inadvertently insult a writer friend of mine (Catherine) and remember why I left the forum in the first place. Anyway, the voting happens, usually a time of great hilarity for our household, and it passes without comment.

The winner is a bearded transvestite, as I wrote above. I looked up the controversy and shared it, but Tilly was not interested. Tilly informs me that I probably shouldn't have said what I said to Catherine and that I deserved the backlash I got. I apologise online, I'm autistic and I hate being in the wrong. Then we go to bed.

Now beardless I go to work today and am regaled by many comments of how I shouldn't have had a shave. Students, staff, pretty much anyone really. I am met by an e-mail from Leslie who has managed to condense friendship, support and advice into a rather short and easy-to-read missive. One that she then worries about and apologises for! I feel strangely elated and supported by the e-mail for the rest of the day and, because Tilly brought the Boy into our bed last night for some reason when she came to bed (a good three hours after I went) and ended up with semi-disturbed sleep, I have a tired day. Tilly texts to let me know that she is feeling ill as I'm on my way back.

Sure enough, when I get back, she tells me how ill she is and muses on the possible causes for it. Then I get to hear about the news item. I do a bit of digging, there is no further depth than my lead in.

Oh I don't know.

I'm frustrated. However, I have gone back down to 11 stone (so 154 lbs) so I guess that's a positive?


  1. I must admit it bugged me that the winner spoiled an otherwise lovely woman with the blasted beard.

    1. Yeah, it's an odd one. That said, the beard looks oddly complementary. I've seen photos where she doesn't have the beard and they don't look nearly as natural. Not even close.

      I think we can safely say that Austria is weird and that Wurst has her reasons for doing what she does. I was hoping to blog in more detail about the songs and the dresses and the like, but I got side-tracked.

      In other news: welcome! Thank you for commenting and now I'm off to check your blog!



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