new old profile cast rings reviews linkers random notes email layout host

� In this diary, I record my life as a transvestite. Perhaps it will help somebody else, who finds their lifestyle doesn't quite match that endorsed by the 'tranny mafia'. Well, I've been there... and survived. The debriefing starts here.

�loves: All kinds of stuff that society thinks I shouldn't.

�hates: Microsoft. Obviously.

�reads:
secret-motel
artgnome
enfinblue
stepfordtart
ten-oclock
boombasticat
lawliiet
annanotbob
fifidellabon
my-serenade

Lynn Jones
Becky
Samantha

Writer's block
9:49 p.m. -- 2008-08-18

I have almost nothing to say. Ain't that a bitch? I get to draw life experiences from both sides of the gender spectrum, and I still manage to run out of things to say.

I mean, I could tell you all about my adventures on my recent holiday in France. A few ludicrous, odd or just characteristically French things happened... but nothing happened that is relevant to the theme of this diary.

Should that stop me? "Normal service will be resumed shortly... meanwhile, here are some holiday snaps"? Er - no.

A criticism I sometimes level against TV programmes that have gone on a bit too long is that they tend to turn into a 'soap'; what started out as exciting adventures in the world of (lawnmower design / mole breeding / salt mining) ends up going all mushy and people-centric, repeating the usual formulaic love triangles and moral dilemmas.

I hate soaps. (Guess I must be male after all.)

I digress. But that's why I am reluctant to describe my last couple of weeks. Against this, I've seen how hollow and pointless single-issue political parties are. And if you've ever been stuck in the kitchen at a party with somebody who only has one story to tell, you know how boring that can be. (I shared an office with a guy like that for four years. It's a miracle I didn't staple him to death.)

I want future readers to know that I'm a real person... that just because somebody likes to wear a (completely unnecessary) bra, it doesn't mean that they can't also enjoy the other 98% of their time to the full. Honestly: I enjoy life as a male, too!

But do such recollections belong here? I have no idea. And judging by some of the distinctly odd Google searches that bring my readers here, I am going to disappoint if I start discussing Carcassonne instead of corsetry.

Incidentally, my French adventures contained no love triangles, and I coped with the moral dilemmas reasonably well.

At least, I think I got away with that small scratch on the hire car.

previous - next

|