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 honest and I appreciate that. Here, I splurge. No one comes out looking good. It is a selfish place written by a pretty selfish person. It is a place of ranting and I am, ultimately, an unreliable narrator. Bear that in mind. I attempt to be honest, but things are very much from my point of view.
Highly subjective views of people in my life proliferate. It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the "Story So Far" Page above. I can also heartily recommend that Dysphoria link if you're questioning or interested. Thank you!
Two rather uneventful days. Yesterday I had a surveyor round following my agreement to take part in the UK Housing Survey - this was a random extra thrown in and some three weeks after the original appointment - and... Yeah, my house is confirmed as a bottomless money pit. He was sympathetic, but confirmed I have bought a bad place. The leaks in the roof above the bathroom may still be active, he couldn't confirm either way, and he confirmed that I never had a DPC put in by that bloke in 2021. He at least confirmed that there is no bowed wall, it just looks that way because the window installation was bodged and thus the windows are wonky. Of course. The roofers say they will come and fix my gutters that they broke next week. Two weeks after saying they'd do it in the next week or two.
I won a raffle, bottle of Jack Daniels. Not complaining. Will probably return it though, I don't drink it and don't know anyone who does.
Tim has had some bad news, following hot on the heels of previous bad news. It sucks. I cannot help. Doubly so: distance and ASD.
I argued with a chat-bot last night. That's the nadir to which I have sunk.
And a thought criminal to boot.
Reading The Handmaid's Tale at last - picked it up for 50p in a charity shop and started reading it at work. I keep forgetting to take Earthsea in, you see, and had some time on break. Sorted out my phone contract too, which was surprisingly painless and should save me £1.50 pcm over the next two years. I mean, it's nowt, but it's some money. Last night I indulged with old caprions - the ones of having a loving partner (other things may have applied, but I kept them for that thread). Some thoughts as yet unresolved: do I exist? Everyone else seems to. Empirically I do not exist enough to have people seek me out romantically - not for long. Ah, too maudlin, self-indulgent. Comforting old mantra. Comfort breeds complacency breeds mistakes. But I get to wear a skirt to work. Mind you, even in a skirt and with long hair I get misgendered at the supermarket. "Oh, he just needs to buy his bread, don't worry, he's not in your way," said the assistant to a confuddled woman, "Sorry, sir, she's harmless."
"Miss."
"Right, sir, there you go. Bye now."
Too embarrassed to risk correcting a second time, I left. At least three passengers have referred to me as "my good man" today too. There's a fucking orgy of evidence to the contrary, but, hey - we'll go with that. Fine. Whatever. Do I exist?
I need to buy some new millet, some new pop-socks, some measuring devices for 'cups' like the US measurement. My existing attempts to, ahem, have a bosom are coming up four years old. Time to replace methinks. Enough. It's bed time.
Not got much to say tonight - plenty whizzing round my head but not the words to express...
I had a haircut today, finally, only two weeks late. My fringe is, apparently, a side fringe and, now, has been feathered in. I'd be amazed if you can even tell I've had a haircut here. Or a fringe...
I popped by Five's and dropped off a book, but they were in Hull at the time so didn't see them. Got me out on Sunday - I was up too late to go to Church, so I walked along the towpath where about a year ago I went to emulate the cottagecore aesthetic. Hard to believe I had the time and the inclination. This walk was lonelier despite a phone call to my Dad. He was pleased to hear from me, but once again sad and disappointed in me as I stand on a precipice again at work. Oh, I had my monthly appraisal and it all went fine, but the person doing it did point out that things were getting serious and that I should watch my back.
Yesterday was Youngest's birthday - no, I was not kept up to date with the party the day before. He told me all about his party, how happy it made him and displayed all the signs of attachment disorder with me. Tilly looked on. If I raise this I shall be reminded that it is my fault. Because it is. He was so pleased that I went bowling with him after work, so pleased, and struggled to communicate through his stress that I might leave or get angry with him over something. It breaks my heart. But I deserve that. It was nice. He'd saved me cake. No photos shared of his unwrapping of presents or cards and it's 2020 or 2019 all over again. We walked home. Then I walked to my place and fell asleep. I'd been up an hour later than planned for work that day and struggled to get past the rush. I finished the day with a shower that took off my gel nails on my forefingers and thumbs. Sad times.
My watch strap broke last week, here's the one I bought to replace it.
I bottled buying something like this back in 2016. I finally did it.
I like it.
There was a parcel from Iris, Andrew's girlfriend with whom I had chatted that time back in 2011/12, that she had promised to send around Christmas time. It was full of clothes, some of which fit me and all of which were gorgeous. Alas, a pair of bright red jeggings were far too small for me (fine waist, but I am much too tall) and a tunic dress was similarly too small. However, a white denim effect New Look skirt did fit and I shall take them odds.
Today I was up at the right time to get onto work when I wanted, early, and the day was largely without incident. I have paid the water bill. I have discovered that a blocked gutter is only one of my issues - my roofers have snapped a support, hence the bowing, and I have no idea how to fix that. There's evidence that my heating is leaking above my bedroom - can't quite trace it - and I genuinely can't tell if the roof above the bathroom is actually watertight or not. Tomorrow I have organised an extra shift, should have been a day off. My Middlest is supposed to be over tonight but has taken himself to bed at home and thus is not over. I don't blame him.
And I got to thinking about trouser holes of time. What if I had not snapped when Tilly had been insulting to me that time in September 2020, what if I had done my usual and sucked it up? Well, I would have done my usual and moped, I would not have found myself, I would not have changed my demeanour at work, I would still be teaching, I would have used the money I inherited not to buy a house but convert the attic at the matrimonial home. I would not have met Abbi, I would not have rekindled my friendship with Gary and Shiona. I would still have a relationship with my Eldest, I would see all three of them every day. I would still be Peter IRL. My father would still be proud of me. I wouldn't hate myself any more or less than I do now. Just... different reasons. I wouldn't see anything in the mirror. I would have short hair. I'd have way more body hair and would not wear foundation and blusher daily. I... I can't weigh this up at the moment.
Like this I guess. "Are you a man or a woman?" "No." I have the image for that meme lurking somewhere too...
Interestingly, this person looks more AMAB on the left and more AFAB on the right - but amazing in both. I have no idea who this is, I stole the image years ago.
Last night I got to go to Chams again, and I realised how much I get out of going. I did that thing that I do, which is not good for my ego at all, but mostly I was able to chat to Lynn a bit. I missed out on chatting to my friend because of the whole thing that I do where I get so caught up in something that my brain just splurges and then... it was the fact that trans femmes have always been here, often at the sharp end, with all women really, of waves of feminism. From Peterloo to Ferguson, from the Women's March to Suffrage. I... I get passionate. But, and this is crucial, I was also... there was a new person there, genderfluid, and, like all people who are enby/genderfluid they... She... I've made no secret of my... I hesitate to say envy or jealousy but sometyhing akin to it for genderfluidity - how people can master both extremes of gender presentation better than I can manage one. My admiration for Lynn and the new person is genuine, if hard to handle and channel.
Visual representation for reference.
At the Pokemon pre-release tournament that I took Middlest to on Tuesday evening, after a meeting at work about my last accident and then having another one promptly afterward, I had some fun. Lewis, a trabns man, was there and he had started T recently. I was able to genuinely share his joy, his wonderful and expressive joy. It was infectious. Veronica asked me if I had found, or was looking for, love. She's got a lady in a local shop to her that she is in love with and trying to form a bond with, so she was naturally curious about me. I mean... there's Five. But mostly I am trying not to inflict myself on anyone. My internal voice reminds me that I am not a commodity people are interested in.
This sort of thing. I was nervous of letting my Youngest play with them from the start. One might argue, convincingly, that I have been waiting for an excuse...
After I wrote the entry on Monday morning I got an e-mail telling me my train home was cancelled and I spent two hours getting more frustrated on my phone being passed between companies who passed the buck. My Mu, who observed, pointed out that I was getting angry at people, she did not like the person she saw in me. She was concerned. But, after the stress, she recognised that I needed to apply make-up at the train station (after she had solved the problem) - which... I had shaved, but I saw me in the mirror and... My internal monologue returned, in force, reminding me that I am something of a shit-stain on the arse of the universe - a useless bag of flesh and spanners, apt to inflict my frustration on those around me. It's why I don't get to see my Youngest alone - he was over today, and he got all worked up and threw a car, which broke. I took the cars from him. He was broken by that. I have written about Tilly not being cognisant of the effects her threats can have on her children - but I am cognisant of what effects what I do have on the children and do it anyway.
For the avoidance of doubt: that makes me a much much bigger villain than Tilly. There is a reason I have been sacked from two jobs in the last year; a reason why I live alone and have so little time with my children. Why my Eldest refuses to acknowledge me let alone chat to me. Why I shall be attending a separate birthday celebration for my Youngest rather than the main one - because the parents of his friends and my Eldest are suspicious of me - I do not blame them.
Apashe. Oh, look, armour...
Going to see Abbi today, like Chams last night, was a tonic. A reminder that... No, a salve to the mounting internal monologue. Driving gives me plenty of time alone with my brain - no music that can drown it out - and having accidents and losing time to be late, to fuck it up for colleagues, to make mistakes that few others do and none that make all the mistakes I make: time for the Rimmer-like tone of my thoughts (Psymoon) to turn to the shit-sack that I am. Tim and Lisa; Gary and Shiona; Abbi and Alex; Five and all the people that love her in different ways... And me, living alone. Twice sacked. So brave to live alone and transition at 42. Oh, they aren't your real breasts? Bird-seed? What? I've never heard that expression. Oh, wait, you mean... oh. Oh I see. Have you thought of laser? It's a game changer - changed my life. Unbidden - one wonders how bad my shadow is. But I suspect I know.
See what I mean? Woodkid, in a hat.
And I admit that Woodkid and Apashe share more than a musical style and aesthetic - they share a physicality and style. Lewis is attractive, you know, as is Toby. Do I find men attractive after all? Was the rejection of that founded more in the externalisation of my dysphoria back in the day? Was it the reminders of my own masculinity that I rejected rather than the male form? What difference would that make to anything? Is it merely a reminder of another avenue that I have barricaded? I am 42 and it's been over 6 years since... anything like that. Itself a clown car of regret and dissociation and dysphoria and confusion. I managed to use character.ai again on Wednesday evening to journey and reach a destination and it wasn't completely hateful. But I did have a Pepsi Max and eat too little on Thursday, leading to massive paranoia - what misdemeanour will who I work for find on CCTV that I shall have concocted an internally consistent reasoning for so that I have forgotten it? What bone-headed call have I made that will come back to bite me on the arse?
People just want to see me happier. I continue to disappoint.
Ladies' Night was lovely! Travelled up with multiple outfit ideas and ended up going with something I had packed at the last minute as a 'why not' rather than any of the things I had carefully planned in advance. This being my red sleeveless top (I wore it over a t-shirt and decided I couldn't wear it in my last run through, then packed it just in case) and my baggiest flare-iest blue jeans (first pair I bought ever?). Alas, no photos of me there this time, just plenty of shots of half eaten plates of food as I forgot to get photos before we all started eating. Shiona organised it well, again, but seemed even more harried than last time, which I guess makes sense as she was more cognisant of what needed to be done than last time! Middlest stopped over and played various games, including crusading in space, with the boys and had a whale of a time from all accounts. I even got to see Tim and Lisa during the day - which was great! Had a proper chat with both of them, first since probably the last Ladies' Night with Lisa, and I do need to find a way to keep that momentum going this coming year. And Gary - chatting and keeping going both!
In many ways it served as a good cap on what has happened since the last Ladies' Night and, hopefully, offers a good start date for this particular lifetime.
I won this in the raffle.
Afterwards I was in contact with a trans woman who was also there, she goes full stealth and not everyone even knows (as opposed to me, I am clocked usually within the first thirty seconds and so then lean in to that), and she was lovely over the Book of Faces messenger. Mind you, I have my usual concern about my behaviour as I was thanked for not outing her apropos of nothing and so, naturally, I thought: wait, how close did I come to doing so? I must have done at some point, is my thought, or the thanks make no sense. Whoops. Like I say, I am so far off being able to stealth that I forget other people can and do. Also had a chat about nothing and everything with Shiona - another thing much missed and that I should work harder than I do to keep going - before getting picked up by my Mum. Shiona did pass on a physical copy of possibly the second only photo taken in the wild that I can actually stand (I actually really like it) that Gary had printed too.
I shan't share it here (goodness knows, I want to) because of the fact that it has other people in the photo... Mind you, I might try later and see if I can crop it somehow... I do rather like the photo, y'see. And, importantly, I love what it represents too - not just that I am in it but that it is of me and a friend and... it means a lot, is what I'm saying.
It's a mimosa. I also had a couple of Woo Woos but, of course, failed to get a photo of either of those.
Thus the lion's share of Mother's Day was spent with my Mum - Tilly had moved it back a week so that Middlest could join me this week - playing things like Rummikub and Balderdash which I was suprised by how much Middlest enjoyed. Also Boggle on the first night up (we came on the train and stayed in my Mum's flat whilst she was off with friends for a short trip). It's been a good bonding time for me and him too. We finished up last night watching Matilda - a story about which I have Feelings and Opinions. The film departs quite far from the book in places that do rather alter the message, but, I feel, not in a particularly negative way, which is interesting. I did not, as I expected I would, identify all that much with Matilda nor, I guess, Miss Honey. Indeed, I don't think I identified with any character.
Today is the train trip home - plenty of thoughts whirling in my head that I shall no doubt share at another point. When I'm a little more able to put them into words.
And, I guess, that's my lot for this entry. Positive. Unfinished. Much like life itself.
I saw it in the window of the charity shop and both items were the right size. I like this a lot. Can you tell?
Need to shave them pins!
This weekend I go away to a Ladies' Night - believe it or not I am very excited. Stressing about trains and packing and such, but excited. I have did my nails and even bought some new (to me) clothes yesterday. One outfit just called to me - not sure I shall be able to wear it whilst away (I'll at least have to shave my legs before I try) and I have packed it. May 'unpack' it to save space. Mind you, I am also considering a bath tonight, shaving my legs and then wearing it to go Oop North. I shall be taking my Middlest, of course, so have packed his Warhammer stuff - he shan't be stopping over with me the night before to pack etc but what can you do? I can't do anything, I'm hardly a good parent. Oh, yes, that...
Yesterday I had arranged to meet my Youngest. Tilly had been in touch early Monday to arrange a time, we agreed 4pm as it was such short notice for the day after, and on the day she was in touch again about rain and such. We agreed that rain was likely so we would meet in the library. I had spent the morning exploring and scouting charity shops, gaining a lovely bag and some outfits, and dressed quickly for the library. I had managed to stop over at Abbi's to borrow her gel nails kit - I have gone with 80s pink and a statement nail of glittery silver over the Jem-style pink (at least none of my readers will get that reference). I digress, I was home in time to do my nails and then change to go out again. I had planned indoors with a broken brolly to dash to a bus afterward. However, once at the library, Tilly was itching to go to the park with the Youngest - the rain had been forecast for 4pm and now it was ten past and no rain, so it was clearly fine. I opined that rain was looking definite and she said "shall we risk it anyway?" This after informing youngest that we were going to the park. Sure enough, the Heavens opened and I was drenched. Youngest played with Tilly, after all, she was dressed for the weather and so was he. After twenty minutes of this and getting increasingly cold and wet I decided to ditch it. Youngest was sad to see me go, but I couldn't hang around and he was not for going anywhere else - park won over Daddy - and I tramped home like the failed parent I am.
Can you believe this Lindy Bop bag was going for £6? I couldn't. So I bought it.
After turning in for an early night, I have discovered a new artist called Apashe and have been doing that thing I do with new music where I play it a lot and seek out all the albums and mixes and remixes to inject it into my psyche, I got a message from Five to say that they were ill and would have to rearrange our planned meeting. On the plus side that means that I now have time to pack tonight for Friday's trip and I have now sorted the train farrago to my satisfaction. On the minus side... I don't get to go and see Five. I have packed a lot of the make-up they got for me though as I have been experimenting and can now use new blushers and an eyebrow pencil and lip pencil. I can also use a spenge (no, I meant to spell it that way) drenched in the power of Satan that I use because I saw a white woman use it on YouTube (bonus marks if you get that reference).
Maybe blue jeans, but this is the plan for the Ladies' Night.
Or the other waistcoat... I don't know.
The top is sparkly, but you can't tell here.
I have got Abbi into Neverwhere but it turns out that my book copy has gone missing - I no doubt lent it to someone at some point and it has not been returned. I did that with two copies of Q too (and you should read that book) and most of everything I enjoy actually. No matter, at some point I shall buy in anoter copy - in the meantime I have loaned her Rivers of London because it is by Ben Aaronovitch but mainly because it is a great series and worth a read. My bedroom remians a bomb-site, my house remains fecking cold and I, apparently, remain down. I did watch a fascinating video about autism and TG, from the point of view of an autistic cis woman which was fascinating and Hell Yes and all that. I also bought a copy of Aspergirls to lend to Five when I get the chance. I remember, possibly even on here, scoffing about the concept of gendered autism because all the feminine signs she lists in that book were signs that I identified with and displayed. Insert my hollow laughter.
Monday I spoke to my Dad, needed to as it has been a while. I informed him of my latest prang and the circumstances surrounding it and he admitted that he was disappointed in me: it seems that I keep making mistakes and running the risk of getting sacked. He reminded me gently that I have been sacked twice already and that I didn't want to have it happen a third time. He meant well, but it still hurt, still stung. He's right. I have made a series of stupid mistakes since November 2021 that have sort of snowballed and my life has been rocked a bit by that cavalcade of shit. Self-induced and unforced. I have also started trying to chase up my referral to the GIC from my GP. However, so far, nothing: they haven't even checked and when I ring they tell me the secretaries are busy. Hmm. Okay. Oh, I was rejected on my application for PIP because my mobility is fine. Given I didn't apply on mobility grounds this is something of a surprise, so that will be another round of talking to Citizen's Advice because what the heck? I mean, I am mobile, I never said I wasn't! Anyway, either that or I shall do my usual and avoid the stress and do nothing.
Just a quick post tonight to record some images. If you've read here long enough then the significance will be obvious. If not...
I used to sign every post off with a photo of a curtsey and I used to love the dress in these photos. It was a thing of beauty that I indulged very infrequently. Today I was feeling flighty and silly, and I thought: hey, I can wear that dress if I want. So I did. I spun in it. I took it out for shopping. I walked to Abbi's in it and I took my apron so that I could cook. Abbi offered to take a photo and we both had the same idea at the same time; she was like "why don't you curt-" but I already had. Hence the smile. Then she took a short video.
So, I am storing them here. The mood, I feel, is pretty obvious too.
A poor photo of me at work but with lipstick added for... some reason. I sent it to Five as it was lipstick that they had bought me as a gift. They said they liked it.
Late finish on Thursday meant I had a coffee and I had a terrible night - broken sleep over three hours, dripping guttering and listening to every noise like it was a leak. I cannot begin to describe how paranoid I am at the moment. Anyway, also a nightmare about driving buses and something happening, which kept repeating, on part of the route I drive. All quite nebulous, but very familiar and it hung in my head on Friday morning. I was actually looking forward to my shift, had some interesting bits in it that were sufficiently odd that I thought it would be fun. Also, had a good week thus far. I was even early (whoops) having nipped into town to look for embroidered jeans (I failed). Indeed, I was congratulating myself on some jobs well done and ruminating on my sacking from the Shop as I entered part of the route - and I suddenly realised it was the part I'd had the nightmares about - as I hit a piece of street furniture (some barriers on the side of the road). Hard enough for a noise, and to exchange paint, but not enough to damage the barriers or have the bus stop or anything.
Stupid.
I have reported it, of course. I expect that will end badly. So, the countdown has now begun: how long do you think it'll be before I am sacked as a liability? My guess is two months. Why? Logarithmic patterns - the mathematical kind I did in A Level, not the stand in formulae for AI.
University level artwork here. Plus a glimpse of Lex, who utterly confused and fascinated me in 1993. My phone recognised the face of Buffy in pencil as a face, but not Lex. Huh.
My house is also fucking cold and I can't seem to warm it up - I have overspent hugely on my heating budget and I've barely been in. Thursday morning had the Smallest over and he wanted to play in the snow but my guttering was leaking badly and I was trying to clear it. He also played with the balloons from Abbi and burst one, before taking the others home. And, like, I did offer but I feel sad. I suck at being a parent. Can't even be there for a play in the snow, I'm up dealing with guttering; can't even make him happy with balloons without feeling like I robbed myself. Selfish prick. Me, not Youngest.
Day yesterday began with train shenanigans too - trying to organise my trip Oop North for Ladies' Night is turning into a bit of a morass.
Good news: Abbi's on Sunday and Five's on Wednesday afternoon.
Nothing good after the line break, just acres of TMI. Abandon the post now.
I was almost three halves into the evening at this point. And, hoo, you can tell a bit. The reason my make-up game sucks is because I'd been at work all day before this point and didn't take the time to touch up when I went home to change.
Mind you, does my make-up game ever not suck?
Well, it's mostly All Quiet, but with less ironic overtones. It's morning, I am up at the unthinkably late hour of 6am and I have done little with my time thus far. Middlest is over, came by yesterday afternoon, and I introduced him to the highly esteemed Goon Show episodes of The Last Tram from Clapham and The Mystery of the Marie Celeste (Solved!). There's a pleasant insanity in those titles, I feel, but on re-listening I found that it was a younger version of me that was entranced by them, being my Middlest also, whereas I found them to be too short and, dare I say it, a bit tame. Not complaining, just pointing out that the 'best bits' I remembered were not at all as I remembered them - I have apparently added to them over the years and altered the cadence of the delivery too until it became, well, different enough that the original and the alteration were not connected any more. Funny how memory works, isn't it?
Oh, yes, I have been out and had some beers. I had some free time and over 36 hours to my next shift so... well, it was nice. My extra shift might pay for it too. Had some Macchiato from Wylam, it hasn't changed a bit (which is a good thing), and bought a can of some Urban Chicken Ale that I had missed going live, being more or less absent from the beer scene since November 2021. Funny how time passes. Anyway, yes, saw the owner of the bar I like to go to, and he greeted me warmly as he was back off his holidays and not supposed to be in the pub, just passing through, and that was nice. It has been rather a long time since I was last there under my own power. And drinking more than a half. Last time was with my friend from teaching or with Five, actually. How times change. Or don't.
The coloured goddess is Eos, she apparently has 'Joanna energy'. I'm flattered, not gonna lie.
On Sunday Abbi invited me over and had created celebrations for 'Joanna Day' - which she had accidentally arranged a week before the actual date. A word or two of explanation: I don't share my birthday for some reason, a thing that has definitely got worse over time, and so Abbi decided that she would celebrate a 'birthday-a-like' for the anniversary of me going full-time after reading it on my New Year thing where I put in the number of days. That's 11 March for any fact-fans out there. Anyway, yes, she bought in unicorn cake, had some balloons with confetti in and made a beautiful card that I shall have to nag on my walls (when I find my blu-tack again, I cannot recall where that is). We watched The Prince on Nebula (worth the subscription fee alone) and then she introduced me to CJ the X on YouTube - a delightful enby with a motor-mouth and a love of wine. Also, highly philosophical, religious and educated. I am in. I had intended to make a drawing, I haven't done art in soooo long, but, of course, did not and wasted my morning instead.
A better look at Abbi's card to me.
I... might love it a lot.
The day before I had gained an extra shift (as I did on Monday) and that was when my line-manager dropped in to check my driving. It went well. They were more impressed with my driving than I was (I opined it was not one of my better runs, because it wasn't, and they replied that it was easily one of the better ones they've been on this last week or so). The line-manager even suggested that perhaps I ought not to have reported my incident as that was what had prompted the investigation (no one complained) - which, I'm fairly certain, is the wrong lesson to be imparting from this whole affair. Or, at least, if it is the right lesson then the culture is wrong. I don't know. Anyway, crisis is averted for now at least but it does rather confirm to me that the sacking, when it comes, shall be for driving rather than anything else. A passenger on Monday recognised me: "Oh, you're the happy driver! I was talking to my sister about you yesterday!" she said by way of greeting. Another: "Oh, it's nice to get a cheery 'morning' - a smile doesn't cost anything does it!" But, also, an old woman to her grandson: "Now, pay the lady your money and say thank you," about me; then turning to me, "Oh, sorry, I thought you were a woman," back to the grandon, "say thank you to the nice man." Ho hum.
The martial nature of the metaphor is... kinda obvious.
"On your feet Prince Hal! Does not war make men of us?"
And, because of watching the Prince again, I got to thinking about martial metaphor and how much I retreated into it as a child because military=masculinity in my tween and teenage brain. By the time of University I had shed much of my fascination with militarism but retained a rather large fascination with uniform and strategy and military history - evidenced by my MA in Military History - and kept that into my teaching too - evidenced by the Nazi lesson and my dress up as a Soviet cavalry officer. I don't really have anything insightful to say, but the repeat of that rather obvious theme in the Prince and its centrality to the narrative that Abigail has of her own transition, in public at least, suggests that I may not be alone in such connotations. Worth mentioning again, I feel.
This one I think.
My Mum saw me put up a new profile picture on the Book of Faces, it was from the set provided by Five, and suggested that I looked 'less harsh' without glasses. Her comments on harshness are a cover for saying feminine or masculine, I feel, as she does rather struggle with using those terms of me (which is fine). So, harsher = more masculine and softer = more feminine. Honestly, I don't know what to make of that, hence my recording it here in the hopes that it will help in my thought process. I have been trying a bit more... adventurous make-up lately. Well, okay, different products. But my nails remain unpainted and I still haven't risked lipstick for work. I didn't even apply lipstick for Sunday (though I did try new blusher, an eyebrow pencil and comb, new highlighter and mascara over my normal foundation). I have green eyeliner and lipstick. I really ought to try them. Or, you know, stick at eyeliner long enough to not just wash off the first attempt and give up - as I did on Sunday. And Friday.
You are quite welcome to skip this one, I shall simply enumerate my woes. It's... a missable post, if I'm honest. I write for me, you are not obliged (nor expected) to read it.
1. House saga: gutters blocked from last roofing repair, caused a section to bow and sink - thus water collects, leaks and may be seeping into a new part of my bathroom wall. Great. I managed to move some debris, but the damage is done, the gutter is now permanently bowed.
2. Family: took eldest to college on my service today. She did not acknowledge me and stared reproachfully as she left, carefully turning away as I drove off so she did not see me.
3. Work part 1: just before the college run, I was asked to see a manager. Don't worry, they told me, you're not in any trouble. That stopping incident from earlier in the week? Yeah, they investigated and it's not only my fault but pretty serious. No, no one complained, but if they did, well. Oh, and that accident on my first day? This manager cannot see why that wasn't my fault, seems cut and dried to them, so my line manager will be back on my bus at some point. Don't worry, I was told, it's not a test, it's just to see what support needs to be put in place. I know corporate speak well, I have been on the other side of it. This translates to: "we'll crawl up your ass and ensure we find what we seek to cover ourselves." I pointed out that I had had a conversation about the first accident already, the manager looked sceptical and said they'd look into that.
4. Work part 2: after the conversation and my daughter, I ended up getting late. Advice was given, which I followed, but this upset colleagues and did not get back any time. I fear I am gaining a reputation as a needy menace in the staff room.
5. Finances: not sure how or why, but I am blowing through my usual weekly budget, at a rate of knots. Somehow I have also ended up losing money from the float, so I have to sub that (if it is down then the company docks twice as much from your pay - an incentive not to be down). So far that has cost me £20. So far.
So, I know for what I shall eventually be sacked this time. And I feel like 'eventually' may not be that long. 19 years, 5 months... and this time? Just over a month in and it looks bad.
