![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
A Puppy In Women's Clothes
May. 8th, 2017 10:30 pmWith Middlesbrough's relegation from the Premier League this evening confirmed, a rather miserable 12 months has now been capped off. The frustrating thing about Boro is the problems have been evident all season and little was done to change them until it was all too late. And like with Gareth Southgate all those years ago, we appointed a rookie manager who surprisingly couldn't turn things around. The fact we were so meek in pursuit of survival is perhaps the most galling aspect of this. We are not one of the three worst teams in the league on paper, but there has been a crushing inevitability about this for some time, and I'm frustrated that after seven years battling to get back into the Premier League, we have surrendered our place so meekly. Back to square one it is then, but I am not sure I'll be on board next season. After 23 years supporting them, I must admit my interest has started to wane and coupled with Middlesbrough being one of the most pro-Brexit towns in the country, my attachment to the place has significantly reduced. We'll see how I feel in August, but I may not bother. The fact that Newcastle got promoted as champions over the weekend just rubs salt into the wounds.
The feelings tonight contrast deeply with the elation of Emmanuel Macron being elected as President of France yesterday, a relief in many ways as the tide of populism across Europe seems to be being halted. I was quite buoyant, even going out and buying French wine, cheese and bread for a celebration, and it was one of the first times I have felt hope in a long time. Of course, all this came crashing down when I awoke this morning and remembered in which country I still live, and this only became more acute as the day's General Election campaigning unfolded. I think my time is done here and on Friday, I have my annual review at work where I think I'll lay it on the line. We'll have to see what happens, but I don't think I'll be happy until I have left England now.
The weekend was rather quiet, just doing jobs around the house mainly aside from a trip to Hull on Friday evening for KEN, a local fetish event. We knew a few people running it, and a few of our crew wanted to attend, so we thought we would give it a whirl. Getting anywhere on a Friday night is often difficult due to work though, and indeed we didn't arrive in the city until pushing 9pm due to a range of circumstances including a diversion on the M62. We weren't ready until 10pm, forcing everyone to wait, but soon we headed out and around to the nightclub, which was conveniently around the corner from the hotel where we were staying. We got changed into fetish clothes - in my case one of my dresses which I believe I pull off quite well - before heading to watch the burlesque show which involved a number of cool acts including a sword swallower, a striptease Velma from Scooby Doo and a lady riding a stuffed pink flamingo. After the event, the stage area became a modest dungeon but I spent most of my time chatting to random people, including a number of university students whose first fetish event this was. I even got one to try spanking for the first time, which was an achievement, and it was great chatting to them. We didn't play ourselves on account of the number of Red Stripes we had - which induced such a hangover that we couldn't go to another fetish event on the Saturday to which we had intended to go - but it was more of a social event and ultimately worth it, even if the nightclub was a bit dingy and the floors sticky. The problem was we only had five Red Stripes, but the hangover from such shitty beer was far far worse than what you get with craft.
We stayed until the end, even meeting the compare of the stage show, who was a nice fella. After this, as it was late and the hotel nearby, I decided I couldn't be bothered changing so just walked back in my dress, which got some looks from the consierge on the reception but I genuinely feel more comfortable in women's clothes and am tempted to do it more regularly. Still, I wasn't too fussed, it had been a great night and definitely one we would like to do again sometime.
The feelings tonight contrast deeply with the elation of Emmanuel Macron being elected as President of France yesterday, a relief in many ways as the tide of populism across Europe seems to be being halted. I was quite buoyant, even going out and buying French wine, cheese and bread for a celebration, and it was one of the first times I have felt hope in a long time. Of course, all this came crashing down when I awoke this morning and remembered in which country I still live, and this only became more acute as the day's General Election campaigning unfolded. I think my time is done here and on Friday, I have my annual review at work where I think I'll lay it on the line. We'll have to see what happens, but I don't think I'll be happy until I have left England now.
The weekend was rather quiet, just doing jobs around the house mainly aside from a trip to Hull on Friday evening for KEN, a local fetish event. We knew a few people running it, and a few of our crew wanted to attend, so we thought we would give it a whirl. Getting anywhere on a Friday night is often difficult due to work though, and indeed we didn't arrive in the city until pushing 9pm due to a range of circumstances including a diversion on the M62. We weren't ready until 10pm, forcing everyone to wait, but soon we headed out and around to the nightclub, which was conveniently around the corner from the hotel where we were staying. We got changed into fetish clothes - in my case one of my dresses which I believe I pull off quite well - before heading to watch the burlesque show which involved a number of cool acts including a sword swallower, a striptease Velma from Scooby Doo and a lady riding a stuffed pink flamingo. After the event, the stage area became a modest dungeon but I spent most of my time chatting to random people, including a number of university students whose first fetish event this was. I even got one to try spanking for the first time, which was an achievement, and it was great chatting to them. We didn't play ourselves on account of the number of Red Stripes we had - which induced such a hangover that we couldn't go to another fetish event on the Saturday to which we had intended to go - but it was more of a social event and ultimately worth it, even if the nightclub was a bit dingy and the floors sticky. The problem was we only had five Red Stripes, but the hangover from such shitty beer was far far worse than what you get with craft.
We stayed until the end, even meeting the compare of the stage show, who was a nice fella. After this, as it was late and the hotel nearby, I decided I couldn't be bothered changing so just walked back in my dress, which got some looks from the consierge on the reception but I genuinely feel more comfortable in women's clothes and am tempted to do it more regularly. Still, I wasn't too fussed, it had been a great night and definitely one we would like to do again sometime.
