I need another computer, another contact with the outside world, out of sight from Jay. This one is ok, but I have to put my musings onto a memory stick/key thing and transfer it to my laptop – the Dilly Dell thing. I call it Dilly as in Dilly Daydream, cos the Dell people sell you a machine which is supposed to be all singing and dancing – and everything stops working in one form or another as the months pass, until you buy the upgrades. I refused to be cheated in this way, and got my software else-ware.
That’s not what I wanted to chat about. I just wanted a girlie chat. I noticed that some of my fave blogs are going through a slow period, and that made me aware of my own slowdown too. So I’m chatting.
When I first found the Angels site, I saw Joanna’s post – 10 things every Trannie should know about passing, or some such thing. I’d discovered one or two of them myself.
Waxing: now there’s a problem. I started waxing everything when I realised I was actually a girl, and most of them Jay has banned, but she hasn’t banned waxing the backs of my hands and fingers, or the ‘V’ cleavage of my chest. Waxing the backs of your hands was one of those ’10 things’. If I remember where it was, the list of 10 that is if you are not concentrating, I’ll post a link. The NfY, Niece from Yorkshire, told us a story about one of her workmates. He was so hairy, they nicknamed him Gorilla; it appears his hair went down his arms and right to the ends of his fingers. I had a bit of a smirk, me with thick hair down to my watch line, (when I wear a watch, which is rarely), and then nothing! That’s a bit mean though, calling a guy a gorilla, although gorillas are nice friendly creatures. I had waxed legs all last summer, but eventually the aggro got too much and so I stopped. I’ve bought some hair dye to dye them blonde, so they don’t show up – well, it’s not as if they won’t be there is it – but I’ve chickened out doing it so far.
Plucking the eyebrows – ouch. This is a success. Jay was not impressed when I first did it; the big give away being the pale skin uncovered by the plucking. The good news is – the skin tans up after awhile, and so I continued plucking the darn things without any more hissy fits. Jay trims them with scissors when she cuts my hair – she is very talented, and I love her to bits – so I also trim them myself with an electric razor, which keeps the mass down, while plucking helps the shape.
Nails; they are a blooming nuisance – they never stop growing – oh, you’ve noticed too – and they break off just as I’m getting them into a nice shape. Jay whinges if they get too long for her taste – but mostly she is OK. I think she must gradually get used to them, until suddenly – wham – she suddenly notices I’ve got nice medium length rounded – I don’t care for square – nails. The other thing that attracks unwanted attention is when we both go to grab the same biro or something, and I stab her with a nail – "Your nails are too blooming long again!" quickly follows the ‘ouch’. It’s no wonder that girls use stick on nails, but I have yet to try those. Hmm, that could be this months experiment!!!
Well, that was a nice chat, for me anyway. Bye for now, Anna.
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