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!

Sunday, 27 March 2016

Odd Mood

First and foremost: Happy Easter! If you believe or you don't, a Happy Easter all the same. I believe that we are all loved by my favourite imaginary friend whom I believe created the Universe and so that fact that He died and rose again means something to me about His love for all of us, and so I pass on that love to all of you. You can believe what you like about the wellspring, but I am using it as an opportunity to tell you all that you are loved. So there.

Yeah, sort of this.
Except that I'm in an odd mood. Let me explain. Earlier this week Tilly had a friend over and they ordered some Indian take-out food. As is my job, I went out to collect it (and get myself some tea at the same time). And I was taken aback by the way my inner-critic started taunting traffic for missing me when I crossed the road, or was just plain hurling abuse. Okay, it's been upping its game for some time now, cresting new highs with insults and derogatory language since Christmas, and I've been wobbling for the last couple of months, but I wasn't prepared for the intensity of it. It gave me a headache, and the following day I was torn between telling people and just avoiding conversation altogether. I sort of told a couple of colleagues but also sort of didn't. One of them worked out what I was saying and even asked after me the day afterward but I did the conversational equivalent of running away from the issue.

I did tell Tilly, after her friend had gone. It coincided, alas, with her back playing up and her reverting to needing hot-water bottles in bed to even be comfortable. She was appalled, said something had to be done (but what?) and that was it.

School finished on Thursday, which was nice, and I drank an ale to celebrate. We went to my father's on Friday, which went better than we were expecting, and then to my brother's for my nephew's birthday party. This is the first direct communication we've had with my brother in over a year - yeah, we weren't directly told about the birth of their son - and so we really had to go. That went well too, all things considered, but it did reveal the gulf twixt my brother and I in that we literally no longer had anything to talk about - we know each other so little - and so we barely spoke. No enmity, just nothing to discuss.

Eggs like these. They had Star Monsters and a frog for the Boy
and a glitter fairy globe and a decorated little box for the
Girlie. Gender-stereotyped? Our children? Pshaw, perish the
very thought!
Today has been family time. Easter presents in the morning (we do small things in false eggs) and then the children watched Pokemon (the new obsession) until they had an appointment at the optician's, then lunch, then rolling eggs (my tradition from my place of birth) and then running about in a park before tea and more Pokemon. I got Tilly some flowers on Thursday night, and wine for her gift, changed to creme eggs on Saturday as she'd started the wine on Friday. I got the gifts for the Boy last weekend, Tilly got the Girlie's the same weekend. I bought my own beer - bit like Christmas.

We snuggled a bit last night, my insistence. Apparently I have been the one who is withdrawn and not open. I seem to recall, and maybe I was wrong, that my cold over February was the issue - she pulled back due to the snot and mucus (and I don't blame her). Still, we're now a month later, almost, and there's been nothing. Is this a cause or corollary of my odd mood? Difficulty to say.

The Experience Project has been shut down, a bit, because of the increasing pressure from law-enforcement and anti-Terror legislation whittling away at privacy rights. That sucks, I rather liked the place and it was a good place to discuss sexless marriage with others living through it rather than clutter this place up with my moaning and obsessive date-keeping. For reference, and as an example, we managed eight times since 1 March 2015 - or, if you want a different perspective, seven times in the last year. Another way of putting it is nineteen times since our wedding (or since August 2007, a year before our wedding) - so 19 times in 8.5 years, twice a year. I also haven't dressed in literally a year, since 27 March 2016. This is a little unusual, I think, and certainly the longest break in the history of this blog. For what that is worth. Not sure it's worth much.

No, wait, of course I am wrong. I dressed in November. November. I'm not even six months since then and I've forgotten all about it. I think I may suck.

In stunning style, I am being terribly self-obsessed too, so sorry about that. I'm not sorry enough to actually do anything about it, but sorry enough to draw it to your attention.

Our clocks have all gone forward: it's almost time for bed.

Friday, 18 March 2016


Today was non-uniform day in support of Sports Relief. And, after the stresses of an interview for a new colleague yesterday (that failed to appoint but took the whole day), it went well for me. I was called compassionate again, supportive and also complimented on getting better at making accurate and swift impressions. This latter one confirmed by most, if not all, colleagues. Lessons also went well. I may have had an ale last night too. It was a good one, and not one I have reviewed, twould appear. Mud City Stout, in case you were wondering. Worth it. Will have to get more in this weekend if I can.

Yes, I'm reusing an image. As the focus of this posting is not so much my ale but the whole thing about non-uniform days and dressing up. I have a bit of a reputation for turning up in my normal work clothes and threatening to dress up as a Soviet soldier (complete with sword) but having only the one acceptable dressing up option (my other is NSLB Teacher with armband, not exactly a good call outside the confines of my Nazi lesson) does rather get wearisome.

Awful picture ruins the loveliness of the skirt.
Anyway, obviously I woke in the middle of a dream about dressing for non-uniform day. I could wear my blue gypsy skirt and find a top to go with it. Boots underneath, you know the drill. But I don't actually have a top to go with that skirt - see the photo for proof. Also, and this is a bit of a killer, I'm not sure I could really go the full cross-dress at work. Or anywhere else. It was a nice fantasy though, and it confirmed that I would really enjoy going 'public' if I genuinely thought I had the social capital to do so. I do not believe that I have enough at work and, well, at home I suspect it would herald the end times. I eventually went with my Star Wars T-shirt (it has Rey on it) and jeans with a jacket, because nothing says frustrated cross-dresser better than completely innocuous male clothes.

My good teaching friend has shared some writing too, and it is qualitative. Yes, it steals a joke, but it is a good joke and a cleverly wordy one too - which I think just adds to the writing chops. You can see what you think by clicking on the blog list over there on the right, the one from L M Williams.

And I'm on an ale again tonight whilst Tilly finalises her article on Isabella. Yay.

Sunday, 13 March 2016


Am I feeling as bad? No. Am I feeling much better? No.

Pictured: successful woman with independent income and

Not pictured: insufferable smugness knowing that Tilly has
achieved it.
What happens? Tilly is off on an adventure with the World Service (yes, that one, the BBC one) on Monday and I'm ferrying the children to some friends for a day. I have marked enough stuff to feel loosely on top of things at work and received enough support regarding Monday to make me feel supported. That's not fair. I work with some fantastic people and they were all very lovely from Thursday onwards when this all started to blow up.

Also, two very dear people commented on my last post with uplifting support and that can't be ignored. I might also have bought a few ales and had one last night. I have also been out to my local this evening to have a half and partake of some free cheese and biscuits. All rather civilised and a welcome reminder of the British pub culture that sometimes gets lost in translation. However, it did lead to a couple of ruminations.

Kinda like this, but more brown field than open fields.

Also, less whitewashed and more tired and old looking. Think
the 1980s abandoned business chic that was so poopular
back in the Miner's Strike.
There's an old church hall, ex-carpet warehouse, up for sale. I got to musing, as I am wont, on how this could be turned into a green hub. Maybe have solar panels and windmills either end, with some rapid chargers (say three for now) down one side with parking. Glass windows on one side, a loft with beds that can be lowered, a coffee machine, some soda fountains and seats with maps and guides for the surrounding town. Use a car or two to store solar power when it's not being used and wind power - but have lights and stuff so that the hall can be used as a homeless shelter at night. The car could be an electric taxi during the day, maybe have a bus for shuttle runs when the railway station opens in the next five years or so, and you have a hub. Nothing special, but it could be really helpful in making an old building work again and maybe even increasing traffic to the town centre over time. It would certainly support some local enterprises and may even get partnership.

That watch though...
Secondly, the realisation that I was very alone at my local. Lovely place, lovely ambiance, free food and decent ale. But I was alone. Very alone. I have no friends in the local area. I have not had 'local friends' - that is, people near where I live that I can meet up with or just talk to face-to-face, since University. I have lots of friends online, but few I can talk to. I have work friends (something of a surprise) but they all live elsewhere. I even have some actual friends in the area but none who could join me at my local for an evening. With Tilly's authorial conquests growing and her work increasing and her responsibilities increasing - we might manage a few evenings off a year but our children are, as yet, too young for us to just pop out. And we haven't enough local support to rely on baby-sitting. And then there's this other thing.

It's a newer laptop, and she's usually in the spare room
but you get the idea.
Tilly is still determined to have a third child. I am still determined not to. We have to decide who loses, there can be no compromise. Either way, the fall-out will preclude any 'going out' for the next four or five years at least., It will prevent any 'off the cuff' evenings out for sixteen or so. We're looking at being 60 before we get chance to have evenings regardless. It will be until I'm 70 that we're paying a mortgage so... I guess I work until then? Certainly Tilly will be working a lot until the potential third child and if we have it she will stop but if we don't, she will likely continue. In short, I am likely to remain alone in my evenings if I go out. Whilst Tilly has some local; friends who choose the local area to meet up in, so no driving etc, my friends are likely to choose other places to meet up - I shall have to drive or use a bus - either way meaning that drinking has to be carefully planned and ambiance will always be a bit broken.

Despite a nice evening, despite having a nice half of a decent stout, despite the happiness for Tilly at her triumph and the loveliness of many people - this has been a tad sobering.

And... well, that's it, isn't it.

Saturday, 5 March 2016

The Feeling of Losing...


I know that I am in a dip at present. Work is fine, I am avoiding doing more. I have been relieved of the pressure of a female student using me as the first point of contact regarding her Depression - which is nice - this sort of thing can go to odd places and there was the uncomfortable feeling of being an older male teacher with a female student being extra-vulnerable and open. It's... a relief to be out of that situation.

The Girlie was sick. She has since reverted back to her silly behaviour: cue much lying for no reason (salt poured on the floor of the bathroom - she flatly denied it was her despite the fact it was obvious and then rejoiced in the fact that she felt she'd got away with it even when she hadn't; she has started sneaking snack food again because she's insane and thought we wouldn't find the wrappers she dropped by the fridge, rather than in the bin two feet to her left where we wouldn't have found them); arguing and nastiness.

I have been reading about pegging. Because... I have no idea. My ongoing cold has resulted in a scabby nose again, I am somewhat disgusting when ill, and there has been more sweat than normal so that my feet now reek like something died. I can and have spread this to most of the stuff I own. I bought some ale to cheer me up. It did not work. But I have had an ale today.

I am lazy and I am tired and I cannot be bothered. School trips are unorganised. Marking is piling up. Interviews threaten. My colleague on whom I rely a bit has split with colleague with whom was having a relationship. Said ex has now begun whisper campaign against my colleague, which means she is somewhat removed from the productive flow as she attempts to deal with fall-out. Lovely. Mind you, another colleague stated that I was 'compassionate' so... that's nice? It is one of the things I have always claimed to be incapable of so to be told that this was how I was seen and how I acted as a manager was a little unsettling.

Tilly goes from strength to strength - her article got a front cover on a national magazine, she has another ongoing and her book is started. She has started a website collaboration with someone and that is taking off, there may be national newspapers on board! It takes all of her spare time, mind. I am not using my time wisely.

I have had my hair cut, despite wishing it were longer. I have avoided dressing, despite wishing that I did. I haven't worn camis, despite missing the feel of them and the colour. I haven't read since last summer despite saying I am well-read. I have not written since 2013 despite once aspiring to write a novel.

Ah, enough.