Saturday

A cold weekend in Strumpetville gentle reader; I wore my favourite scarf which is universally acclaimed as very Dr Who and normally leaves me far too hot – but today it was just right. Brrrr.

I met International on the South Bank at about 2pm and we walked via Blackfriars Bridge into Soho. Along the way we discussed various things including whether or not his expectation of fidelity is a way of avoiding STIs (it isn’t) and, most importantly, what happens next for us.

Ouch Suspects, it seems. He queries, for example, International’s ever more frequent absences and visits to friends who have no apparent recollection of seeing my beau (today I was a meeting of International’s book club). To that end International has resolved to have the first of what I suspect will be a series of discussions. The theme of discussion one is Where We Are. International wants to discuss the state of play of his relationship with Ouch and what his feelings about it are. Essentially is Ouch ‘up for’ for sharing. This will in itself of course reveal much to Ouch; therefore some discussion of the consequences was needed today too.

So, then, over a lovely Japanese dinner and drinks in The Yard we talked and schemed and planned and even found time for smooches…

The mortgage will be tricky. International and I could cover it but we would be ever so poor. And I don’t ‘do’ poor. Obviously it will take time to sort out – even without the pressures of the current market. After that International wants to get his own place for a while. I’m not a huge fan of that idea, but I can’t force him to live with me. Well, I could but it would not bode well. In the meantime if things get a bit hairy I’ve invited International to stay with me for as long as he needs to.

This scenario still assumes much; but I am genuinely worried for Ouch now. I made clear to International that I wasn’t pushing him or pressurising him but International seems resolute in his wish/recognition of the need to sort things out. He says he wants to ‘do right’. The immortal words of Mandy Rice-Davies notwithstanding I asked him to keep me informed of what happens.

I love him so very much and wish there was a way I could make him happy… easily. But fool that I am, I have fallen head over heels for a manifestly unsuitable man.

So there we have it; progress of a sort. Further updates as events warrant. In the meantime happy Weasel Stomping Day.

Sympathy

I was due to go out with a great friend and former colleague tonight, but sadly she had to cancel. We will catch up next week I hope; but this disappointing change to my plans did allow me to see International tonight.

It always amazes me that when I’m with him everything and everyone around simply melts away. I do hope our passionate tonsil hockey in The Stag didn’t put-off too many of that place’s clientele.

In between the muches smooches we did discuss, he and I, me and him and Ouch and stuff. The upshot is I am clear that Ouch is (as International put it) ‘besotted’ with him – as am I of course. And International acknowledged that therefore someone is likely to get hurt. Furthermore he was candid enough to argue that this someone may well be me. I in turn reiterated that if he does me wrong I’ll burn his house down.

Annoyingly he beat me to saying “I love you”. I was hoping to make my declaration of undying love first, you see! I did play “I love you” Top Trumps by telling International I’ve never loved anyone like I love him (thus I win) which engendered more discussion about Darren and how my love for him compares.

From there we moved to fidelity and monogamy and such; International asked me again not to see other people. This prompted me to raise intimacy between International and Ouch; I can hardly protest if and when it occurs; hence my protest against International’s assertion he has the right to tell me how to conduct my vududium. I explained I am happy for us to be open or monogamous (monogamous being the ideal) and indeed he can have two boyfriends if that’s what he wants; but until things are sorted …

Actually, my endless crusade of dissonance and vacillation continues; my resolve crumbled pretty quickly and, once again, until at least next time, I do not intend to play away. I know, I know! My counsellor will have a thing or two to say about it at the very least.

In other news my work is so busy that I’ve been banned from taking annual leave until the end of March. Boo! But it’s nice to be needed… I find out tomorrow more about what my role will become in the future – but it is ironic that it comes when I’m finally on top of things. Three months on 1 December in my new role. Somehow it seems longer!

Enough of my waffling. Enjoy some Culture.

Sleepyhead

I’m a little tired right now gentle reader. Not from a bit of how’s-your-father, oh no, but rather a long day – one of those days full of little niggles and challenges. All done now though, and I’m home, and it’s dinner time and the radio is on…

Today I had yet another counselling session, and I’m beginning to feel my counsellor is responding to my needs when structuring our sessions. Apparently I’m too ‘bright’ for his standard counselling techniques, which is nice. I think.

Today’s theme was self-esteem. He wanted to explore any self-destructive behaviours I might be exhibiting and seemed somewhat disappointed when I couldn’t reveal any. Being an introvert getting angry or upset makes me want to avoid people, not jump into bed with them. As mentioned previously getting tipsy (a) makes me less interested in sex and (b) I act like an idiot so no-one would want me anyway. I don’t 'do' drugs. I don’t put myself in dangerous situations bar the usual risks that come with the gaydar/squirt cruising thing. It’s just me; late bloom in the gardens of Strumpetville; a breath away from withering…

My counsellor was particularly keen to talk about International (I suspect he sees him as more in need of counselling than I which his hardly fair – he only has my description after all. And I’m cuckoo). He was very forgiving of my weekend indiscretion, perhaps clutching at straws by seeing my love for International as the manifestation of my self-destructive tendencies. The counsellor gave me some cognitive behavioural therapy exercises to go through at home.

Does it seem strange that I profess to love International and yet still have sex with other people? I hope not. The situation will evolve as the facts change; right now I am decided not to wait idly by while has his cake and eats it. Alongside the causal encounters there is my – quite possibly self destructive – refusal to rearrange my social life around seeing him. I realise it may be stubbornness or obstinacy on my part, but I won’t change my plans to suit him because he can’t change his plans with Ouch. I fear that would leave me running around after him all the time.

I may be the other woman but we abhor the cliché!

Anyway, I still can’t wait to see him at the weekend and the message from Geneva is he can’t wait to see me. It will be a useful distraction from redrafting by business plan and bringing my accounts up to date and cleaning the flat and… because I love him loads.

(I also enjoy robot chicken.)

Sauce

True to my word, gentle reader, I have had a very naughty weekend. You may recall I had recently heard from T and I was tempted to respond positively to his overtures. Well, in the end I did get in touch with him to say we should indeed meet up. So hopefully I shall get a response soon.

In the meantime on Saturday and Sunday there have been three assignations arranged via t’internet. All were guys I’d been in touch with peri-International; but because he was on the scene, pardon the pun, nothing came of it. However, while I was online on Saturday all three got in touch. The first I had been flirting for months. He wanted some al-fresco action but I felt it was a tad on the chilly side for such activities; so on Saturday night I met him and we went back to mine. My that was fun; it’s amazing how things that may not be your favourite, if done right, can still drive you wild ;-)

And on Sunday a guy came over from Greenwich for an afternoon shag, to be followed in the evening by a nice long 'session' with another, who likes to party and play - though I prefer not to mix fuzunjulation of the vududium with much more than a glass of wine if I can help it. (thinking it’s pretty darned fabulous on its own account). Not even poppers for me gentle reader though I indulge my men-folk if they really must have that helping hand (as if I’m not enough… cheek!).

Yes, I let my trouser department do the thinking this weekend – and it was most marvellous to our eyes! The weekend ended with a tempting invitation from a very young (late teens eeek!) couple from nearby for one of my favourite activities; a threesome. I’m not sure yet – I’m comfortable in a range 25 to 45, and prefer guys at least my own age; but as a cardinal rule of threesomes is that they’re just about sex, there may be no harm in it…

Of course this comes alongside work; I have had two clients this week which is fantastic and quite timely! And my ‘proper job’ is keeping me busy as always; my current projects have been reviewed and it has been decided that they are too important/I’m doing too well [flattery will get you everywhere] to hand the over to someone else. Well, I’m keen to see my projects through and as some colleagues are definitely moving on I’m going to be leading on more projects from now too. Thus some catching up on Sunday was necessary.

Raise your glasses to sex and projects!

I strangely don’t feel bad about my nominal infidelity to International. I do, however, feel comfortable that I’ve rebalanced the various portfolios in my life more equitably. Until International and I make some progress he remains my love-life (we’ve been exchanging the usual messages today too, awwww), just not, for now, all of my sex life.

So be it

I’m back! And, finally, my boiler is fixed, which makes homecoming all the sweeter.

Back from two nights and a day with International at his place. The house withstood our passion; kitchen, living room, shower and of course bedroom – International has his work cut out before Ouch gets home ;-)! OK, OK I’ll stop bragging now...

International and I do so very well when we are shut away from the real world and no pressure of work or travel or the Real boyfriend snipes at our precious time together. However, we did have a row on Thursday over dinner. Which was my fault; emotional maturity is something I really must work on! Unfortunately International said he felt we shouldn’t really consider ourselves boyfriends in the strictest sense as we were only just starting a relationship and he has so much baggage to contend with. And when I demurred at this I was accused of being high maintenance. Me!

Anyway, to help ease our passage back to the real world, on Friday night I called International just to talk to him (not Talk note) and to hear his voice. Our conversation did, nevertheless, stray onto the topic of Us and we revisited some of the things that were Said on Thursday. International said he isn’t happy at home, at work, or really with anything and it will take him time to sort things out. I merely said that though whatever he does and decides affects me – a lot, a lot – I am here to help him with the pressures he feels; not add to them.

I really love International. This morning I would have given anything to wake up next to him, have him in my arms. However, it is increasingly clear that he will not leave Ouch for me; and I have listened to International when he talked and noted that we are lovers but that we shall have to see how things go. I have even had the cheek to feel somewhat aggrieved that International and Ouch are snuggled up in bed, or out with friends, or whatever whilst I am here alone.

So here am I, back in the real world. And I have decided something, gentle reader; something of which you may or may not approve.

I’m not going to continue being ‘exclusive’ with International until he’s made his mind up. I have mixed feelings about this, though not in a love=sex sense. It’s just not easy to see this as a step backward or a coping mechanism; I’m damned if I’m going to have my heart broken twice in a year. But International clearly has a lot to work through and, yes, I’m here to help. But I’m not going to just sit and wait while I sit and wait. Erm...

Spirits Soaring

As you know, gentle reader, my boiler is [still!] broken. You can, I imagine, comprehend my dismay when my kettle of 13 years – faithful kettle of mine, and my father before me - followed it onto the undiscovered circuit.

It occurred to me then that my luck has not been too good of late; but then I thought of International and I said to myself “oh, I don’t know…”.

You see, like most I potter through life slightly bad tempered, silently wishing everyone would get out of my way because I’m very busy and I’ve got lots to get on with and I need to do six impossible things before breakfast. But it’s not the same with International; when I’m with him everyone else simply disappears and I see no-one but him. When I think of him I feel like I’m flying high over mountains like an eagle… yes, alright, I’m not going to spout lovey claptrap till you retch so hard you shatter your own rib-cage. You get the idea. I’m just saying.

One of the nicest times I’ve ever had was just last Monday; International and me, wine and candlelight – and not caring a jot - not a jot I tells ye - that the heating wasn’t working. I hope the rest of the week, spending it (well, from tomorrow night) with him, will be as nice. Right now what I really want is a hot shower! After I’ve had that he can do as he pleases ;-)

I have, in two weeks, an appointment with my bank for business related matters; accounts and cards and similar. It feels quite exciting; in the meantime I will need to brush up my accounts and business plan – so I can show off. Fortunately I don’t need any loans or credit, though I do need to jump through various anti-money-laundering hoops which make the whole process tiresome. Yet it will be nice to focus on something (work related) other than my day to day job.

In the meantime my counselling session, due today, was cancelled. So much for working on my self-esteem! In fact it was postponed for a week but even so I didn’t accept my friend’s fine offer for some beerage and I went home to get an early night and dream of being with International, tomorrow, tomorrow… When I called him to wish him goodnight it turned out he himself is out with friends, telling them all about me! Well, that’s a boost, to be sure.

Scrooge

I finish the weekend somewhat ill at ease. I feel like I haven’t achieved anything. I dislike not seizing the day and getting things done.

Is that fair? I did a mind boggling amount of shopping, resurrected this blog from the ashes of Google’s maladministration, sorted out my business banking (or at least started to), chatted to friends online, reviewed the (frankly inadequate) advertising proofs for my new campaign, and even managed to have a bath (24 hours till the boiler is fixed... oh I hope).

But. I didn’t do any actual work; and I have been alone all weekend. Next week is a bit crammed as my next counselling session – self esteem, if you please – is on Tuesday then Wednesday to Friday I’m with International. So the opportunities to get things done are limited.

In fact the real reason I’m dissatisfied is a general lack of ease about my current situation. Not on the romance side – International and I as we ever were. No, it’s the whole thing. An holistic malcontent, gentle reader, is your correspondent.

I am fortunate, though – and perhaps it is my Teutonic origins shining through – that I can usually identify point A (where I am), point B (where I want to be) and define the obstacles to overcome to get from one to the other. In other words I generally know what I want and how to get there. This of course is something that gets easier with time, which incidentally is the main reason I like being in my 30s.

So, here am I at point A (not enough money) and I want to be at point B (lots of lovely lolly). I do have a good income, one that allows me to indulge my tastes and whims quite freely; yet I fear I am not in a position that I can take advantage of the opportunities that may arise over the next couple of years. The fall in house prices bringing bricks and mortar at least nominally within my reach, for example.

What solutions has my incisive and efficient deutsche Kopf given me? Increase income and reduce outgoings! Aber natürlich.

The income bit will be in part helped along by finding an advertiser that can write in whole sentences. And the outgoings? Ah, hence the Scrooge bit. I am determined to cut back!

Up to Christmas I am going to see how little I can live on – excluding the social life, as it’s that time of year of course. But I reckon certain premium elements of my lifestyle could be trimmed… we shall see. On those occasions when I have identified point B I rarely have failed to reach it. It can take me some considerable time to recognise point B – as this blog amply demonstrates – but now our course is set. Wonga Ahoy!

Swap

Shift, substitute, switch...

Well, gentle reader compared to when you last saw it you will notice a difference in this blog. Why the change? Because blogger decided to decimate my blog for no reason and when rebuilding it I decided to experiment with my template. I hope you like it. Essentially on the left you will find my fevered imaginings, and on the right the rather more reasonable external sources and sites that keep me grounded.

It's almost done, though I'm sad to say anyone who recently voted will need to do so again; sorry. Believe me, it's taken hours of work (spent largely raving like a madman about the cruelty of it all) to get back to this point. And now I'm done and will post again soon.

Silence

On Thursday I met International again – at the Retro Bar. There I told him about the ‘intervention’ of my friends the previous Tuesday. They had encouraged me to cast my net somewhat wider as International has Ouch and… as such I may not have International. And you will recall, gentle reader, T recently got in touch again. So it was time to Talk.

Well, this provided an excellent route into discussing Us and where we are and the whole Me, Him, Ouch situation. International said that, no, he could not stop me having fun with other men but to do so would hurt him. Yes, I am (my friends are) right that he is having his cake and eating it but he assured me again that he and Ouch are no longer intimate. In fact, he revealed, he was refusing Ouch’s attempts to initiate sex; one of the reasons their relationship is ending is that he no longer ‘fancies’ him.

Yes, he said, he was saying all the things some two-timing bastard might say; he couldn’t help that because he’s madly in love with me and means everything he says. International said he and Ouch had been on rocky ground for some time and he had been thinking of leaving him for a while. In fact he claims he almost ended it on Saturday (though I immediately thought ‘almost’ isn’t quite the same methinks). But he wanted to leave him for the “right reasons”

I did directly challenge precisely how open this open relationship is; and International confessed it was open largely in potentia – though of course for the two of us it has gone rather further than any reasonable definition of open might anyway encompass.

Wider reasons International hesitates to end his relationship with Ouch are what he termed lifestyle. They have a nice house (a not nice mortgage with it)… joint friends… a lot of ties that bind and to cut them is complex and difficult. In fact International suggested that should he and Ouch end they may still live together, which frankly dismayed me.

My friends cautioned me that International was living well with a rich older man, but enjoying the physical side with a ‘fit’ [cheers babe] younger man. After Thursday this resonates with me somewhat.

I am uncertain now. My feelings are unchanged; but I am much clearer that Ouch might feel more for International than he returns and that makes things all the more difficult for me. I really am the other woman… Mr T pities the fool. But - to my credit I feel - I did, quite sincerely inform International that if he is messing me around I will burn his house down.

In other news: my boiler should be up and running again on Monday and on the work front my portfolio continues to grow. I’m being asked to take on yet more work – my manager is leaving and on top of everything else her work needs cover too! And on the business front I’m starting a whole new online advertising campaign that will hopefully generate some new interest. Clients have been somewhat thin on the ground of late and I’ve been too… busy… to pursue new business. But it’s not just all about International you know.

Shivers

The boiler remains unfixed. And International is not here to keep me warm. Yes, things are on the chilly side, what with it being November and that.

Well, the work I brought home got done at least. And as for the rest of my day today – it was on of those days; the sun was shining, the birds were singing. I had a smile on my face, and the world was smiling with me.

Plus my mental health work is being received very well, which is fabulous.

And…

T has been touch again. And this time he did ask if we could meet up for fun and frolics. As, by the way, have both of my assignations from a couple of weekends ago. Oh yes, gentle reader; an IQ of 177 and an ass that won’t quit. As ever, nice to be popular.

But anyway; I mentioned before T is the one that would tempt me. T was one of the few guys that had as high a sex drive as I do. He lives in a palace with his boyfriend, with whom he also shares an open relationship. And, yes, I remember him very, very fondly indeed.

So… what to do? It would be easy. He lives near me and works even nearer. It would be fun, oh God it would. A genuine lover, oh my. Yes, even writing about it I am… well, very tempted. As I recall with him it wasn’t just sex it was conversation and dinner as well. T is not a huge fan of the open relationship thing; I think he needed the intimacy a lot too – a spare boyfriend while his ‘real’ one was playing away perhaps.

Actually I am struck by the parallel between T and international. I mean if ‘T and me’ begat a relationship you could almost interchange them.

But. Yes, gentle reader, you know what’s coming next. So much so I hardly need write about it!

Well, I think the way out is to talk to International and see how I feel and how he feels. I’m not arguing I should meet other guys, though I actually do miss these encounters. I am one of those people who does like - that is, enjoy - causal sex; in fact I don’t really ‘get’ people who don’t. I enjoyed being promiscuous and occasionally I get a bit nostalgic for those days [er… two months ago…]. I don’t mind not sleeping with other people; I’ve studiously rejected all offers since International and I became proper boyfriends. But the fact remains He has two boyfriends and I suppose I have half of one. I’m not sure, to put it crudely, getting some cock will redress the balance. I’m not sure, feeling for International the way I do, I’d really want to or enjoy it were it to happen. But we do need to talk. To settle things.

PS International has just cancelled Monday...

Shine

So International spent the night last night. It was, as always, very pleasant; candlelight and wine. Music and smooches. Whispered promises of love everlasting between moments of utter breathlessness… I tell you one thing gentle reader, he is an attentive lover.

One thing he is not is a morning person, which his something I will have to get used to I fear. International was Mr Moody Pants, and got in a temper when I called him Mr Moody Pants. So I amended it to Mr Gorgeous Pouting Moody Pants. But I myself was still somewhat irritated so in town we went for a coffee before we parted to ‘make up’.

No, it wasn’t a row. But it was something that I realised later I do with all of my ‘boyfriends’, which is this; I get very irritated when they first insinuate themselves into my space. And when irritated – or having had but 3 hours sleep - ‘my space’ extends for about 3 miles in any direction. Harry is one notable victim of this trait. So, in many ways, I’m glad it’s done.

Nevertheless, I am somewhat dismayed that International may not now be visiting me on 17 November, his birthday, as he may be ‘too tired’ after flying in from Strasbourg. Though we still will be spending some time together that week, as Ouch is away - thus allowing me to temporarily occupy the geist of Ouch. But yes; dismayed. Enough to ask if… well, are we gong to see each other again? The answer I am assured is yes… for now.

A couple of close and dear friends staged an Intervention as Das Boot tonight. They expressed deep concern that International was trying to have his cake and eat it; that I was being manipulated; that International was going to break my heart. In many ways the voice of experience cautioning me – quite reasonably – about repeating their mistakes. Trying, as it was put, to be the friend they wish they’d had.

I was, I will admit, very occasionally irritated by this intervention. But they raise valid issues and I appreciate the care and attention. Honest. But what can I say? Rule Six is there for a reason and… I have no defence. Rule Five is there for a reason too. So I may be setting myself up for a fall. But to my own personal credit these are arguments I am unafraid to raise with himself. This I did not dwell on tonight, but no-one knows how much it means to have someone say to me “I love you”. And how much it means to be able to say it back.

My team was consumed with work today and the appointed hour passed us by unnoticed. For shame. Yet ill remembered is still not forgotten…

Strange

I have had one of the strangest experiences of my life today, gentle reader.

After getting a bit more work done this afternoon – work that, though challenging, is very exhilarating and fills me with a real sense of achievement once done - I had an afternoon nap; something that I have developed a peculiar fondness for as I have aged.

Anyway, after a couple of hours I woke up – at 5:30.

The problem was I had completely forgotten that it was Sunday. In fact I assumed it was 5:30am on Monday. So, I rose, breakfasted and selected my clothes for work, pleased that I could get in early and tackle the tasks of the day.

At 6:30 a fellow blogger and friend sent me a message asking if I’d had a nice weekend and advising he had just opened a bottle of wine.

Of course, thinking it was 6:30 in the morning I was genuinely shocked and was really worried my friend had a drinking problem. When I replied that er... it was 6:30am, so ermmm... he, somewhat confused, asked me if I was in Britain or abroad or what? And at that point, after a mental gear change, I realised my mistake.

It is fortunate indeed that he contacted me when he did – or I would have been 14 hours early for work. As it was, though, I instead had an extra weekend evening. Tempus redux; a chance to live again.

So despite the fact I had had breakfast I made dinner, was a bit domestic, selected a nice merlot and settled in for an enjoyable evening.

It is a stormy night and the wind and the rain are driving against my window. The parts required to fix my boiler are only now undertaking their perilous journey across the Solar System so the apartment is a little chilly. In many ways it is ideal snuggling weather and I wish International were here to snuggle with me. Of course I am in a position where I can’t be with him every day and for the first time that made me feel a little sad. Tomorrow will be the only time this week we have planned together; next week it is three nights and one day – almost justifying the 50% share in him I currently have.

But for tonight I’m suffering a bit from loneliness. It could be worse; I could be suffering from the flu or gout or Licky End. Yes, I miss him. And in 48 hours I shall be missing him again… though in the meantime I fully intend to [censored]

Slave

On Friday, as scheduled, International and I had lunch. Good Friday fayre – fish and chips - at a local café named “Rendevous” followed by a walk in St James’s Park. As an aside I would strongly recommend the walk from Parliament to St James’s Park via Queen Anne’s Gate. It’s a lovely part of London, even if you aren’t there with your boyfriend.

I couldn’t enjoy my time with International as much as I wanted because pressures of work preyed on my mind. I’ve been working all day today even to get things done; and things are getting there, so that’s good. Hopefully this week(end) of frantic activity represents the peak (or trough) of it.

One aspect of my new job has been a relative isolation compared to where I was previously. All my work is ‘external’ – meaning I do the things that affect people outside the organisation, not in it, rather than ‘internal’ work of analysis and reporting. That can be tough because it’s relatively hard to demonstrate the value of what I do. Conversely in the private sector or, to use a technical term, the “real world”, where pensions have to be saved for and you can be sacked for such bourgeois offences as not doing your job properly, I would be bringing clients in and generating income/business which would be of the utmost importance.

Well thus it ever was; I must admit I’m proud of what I’m achieving and God knows it’s really challenging high-level work.

I’m not blowing my own trumpet – if I could do that I wouldn’t need a boyfriend – just having a little me moment…

Anyway, I dislike the compromise between work and romance – particularly as I’m very focussed on one or the other at any given point. One of the reasons I’m working this weekend is because I can’t work at home next week. Again my social dance-card is full of waltzes (and the occasional tango).

Monday, late, International is staying over. Sadly the boiler really has broken down. It requires a new circuit board. Indeed a rare and precious Faberge circuit board that, judging by how long it will take to arrive, may only be sourced from somewhere beyond the orbit of Saturn. I have warned International of his likely privation but he insists I will be able to keep him warm…

And on Tuesday I obey the summons of friends for their ‘intervention’. I fear few people approve of my relationship; so few that I have decided to canvas opinion with a new poll (on the right here). Now gentle reader it is safe to let me know what you think without the fires of my Leonine pride visiting righteous wrath upon thee. For now.

Starlight

I’m a Leo; I adore being a Leo and in many ways I am a typical example of the species. Not being gay so much; I imagine that is not star sign dependant. I’m in fact a Leo with an Aires rising – fire complemented by fire (in Chinese astrology I’m a fire snake – again fire and fire). I suppose the best advice I would give is to avoid my temper; indeed I’ve punched out two computer monitors since starting this blog and I’m told a filthy look from me could stop a team of oxen in its tracks.

As a Leo I can in a few days look forward to an encounter between my ruler (the Sun) and Uranus. Well, that’s something at least.

The upcoming encounter between my ruler International and my… has been thrown into doubt by nothing so cosmic as my boiler breaking down, finally, thus confirming me as Cassandra to my landlord’s One Man Idiot. But I can discuss that with International when we have lunch tomorrow – you see, he really is making an effort to be with me.

Yes, International again gentle reader… you were expecting different?

I had another counselling session tonight but I was absolutely not in the mood at all as I had too much work to do and, if you’ll forgive me straying into management buzzwords, it got right on my tits. So his topic suggestions got remarkably short shrift but we did discuss my new relationship. And, for a change, some useful insights were derived. See if you agree.

My counsellor felt that I am reasonably clear on things but that International is not; and therefore the greatest need is to work through his issues. In short I should continue to be careful about getting emotionally dependent as this would mean swapping my journey for his. Generally feeling needy signified that I should consider what I could do to educate my boyfriend to fulfil my needs, including tackling things he is doing wrong; meaning the onus should be on changing International so I don’t feel needy, not changing myself. My counsellor explained that otherwise this would result in not being myself, and this would kill any relationship.

The counsellor’s advice was I should define my values and my ‘red lines’ – that which I shall not sacrifice – and he said I should learn that a relationship is two wholes together, not one half trying to find the missing other.

I think there is little new in here but actually rather well packaged and it did mean the session ended on a high note.

PS International’s horoscope is that the unruly Uranus will bring chaos during November… Roar.

Someone

It was at 9:10 this very morning that I decided not to worry about it any more and, just as my train was pulling into London Bridge, accept the fact that I love him back.

For the moment he and I will be only able to love each other on 11, 17, 19, 20, 21, and 26 November. Which is lots of times if you consider he lives with his, well... his main boyfriend. I think that is the advantage of living very near to an international airport when having an International man of mystery as my boyfriend. 17 November is his birthday - I’m pleased that he’s spending it with me; and 19/20/21 will be at his place for a change as Ouch is away.

Yes, I’ve given into the exciting new phase of a proper relationship. I haven’t forgotten the circumstances; I just want to enjoy it. I want, just for a little while, to enjoy the feeling that somebody loves me without putting terms and conditions on it. Like not being able to say who I'm in a relationship with on Facebook. Or Ouch (I should come up with a better name for him now).

My work has taken an interesting new direction; from the end of the calendar year my project outputs so far are being mainstreamed into London wide NHS work. So, instead my team is being expanded slightly and we’re splitting the city into three sectors and I’m getting deputy operational management of one of them. A new challenge; and in fact one I’m looking forward to. Sadly it appears the WHO job has been withdrawn. Well, opportunity is where you find it! I’d like to work abroad though; sometimes I feel like buying a one way ticket to anywhere… perhaps if things don’t work out with International it will provide the impetus I need.

As for my relationship with him – my new boyfriend tee hee – some friends have organised an intervention. They’re going to interfere with me at Das Boot on Tuesday; I’m not sure whether this means they approve (but are concerned) or disapprove (and want to stop me). Whether or not they read this blog [they do] they know I’m sometimes overcome with insecurities. I don’t want to repeat history; I’m afraid of the unknown. I look good* and have a great job, great friends, etc; but I must do better!

Well that’s probably a long enough stream of confidence for today, gentle reader. But on a final note I really do still feel that it’s the right time to be with someone; and hearing I love you and being able to say I love you… well, that’s made me feel happy.

Six Weeks

I sometimes look at all the things I have and wonder what I would take with me if I'm ever lucky enough to move in with someone and try to build a home together. My plants, the works of art my friends have made and give me, and the original pieces I have picked up around Europe. Probably my books, DVDs and CDs; clothes etc. But not so much if you think about all the crap I’ve accumulated over my spendthrift years.

Why do I think of this? Because my mind wonders often into speculating about relationships; and relationships are very much back on the cards. At last one anyway.

I saw International yesterday; he asked me out of the blue to meet him on Monday evening. In fact he suggested a sauna but to be honest that didn’t entice me too much – so I suggested dinner. And to that end we ended up at Balans and then for afters had drinks at The Friendly Society.

My friend I owe in particular a debt of gratitude for encouraging me to avoid the sauna. I suspect the evening would have gone rather differently if hadn't stuck to my guns.

Because somewhere between dinner and drinks International repeated that he didn’t want me seeing anyone else – he really doesn’t like it. He said he had been thinking about, and comparing himself to, Darren – something I was avoiding – and International has decided that he and I should be boyfriends.

Because he loves me.

Yes, he told me that he loves me. No-one had ever said that to me before. Not ever...

Of course in my reply I confessed my losing battle not to feel the same way. Yet not all is unalloyed delight because we have to accept that International now has two boyfriends; and I was not backward in pointing out International seeks to have his cake and eat it. I did jokingly complaint about my 40 man target, but not too much as I know International doesn’t like my history – though to be frank he needs to take it or leave it and I note he is not averse to my practising a trick or two I picked up along the way.

As for the rest of the night, we very much enjoyed each-others’ company in "the fairy room" at the back of the bar which we ended up sharing with another couple we met who were celebrating their one year anniversary. There was little bit of friendly competition for a while there between the four (two twos) of us I don’t mind telling you :-D

In the meantime, does spring turn into glorious summer in Strumpetville? Much work remains to be done I fear. But it’s a turn up for the books, gentle reader, isn’t it? What a difference a day makes, and no mistake.

Sunday

Well, I didn’t get as much work as I intended done, gentle reader, but I had a pretty good Sunday indeed.

As it turns out it is a bit like riding a bike; indeed, the citizens of Strumpetville have put on quite a parade now that Frumpella’s back in town.

After trawling the internet on Friday and Saturday I arranged not one but two of those extra special visitors today. And another early in the coming week. Plus another the week after that; which will be the earliest I will see International again (another layover between Belgium and his boyfriend). And of course there remain a couple of irons in the fire…

But I digress.

Between lunch (James) and dinner (Dave) I enjoyed the sunshine, by going out to the shops and purchasing some wine, and after the main course of the evening I made myself a delicious Japanese stir-fry, and am now settling in with some music and the aforementioned wine before bed (sleep).

This of course means that mental health services are safe from my ministrations for a little while yet – and this may yet be no bad thing.

One of the nicer outcomes of putting myself out there again after this brief hiatus is that those lucky guys are getting rippling gorgeous Frumpella, not ye olde Hogzilla. And said guys have been very complimentary. I’m told I have a handsome, friendly face; and a nice ass. Always good to hear [flattery will get you everywhere]!

On the other hand I do still want that special someone so I guess it will be back to the dating scene for me. There is a certain loneliness when an assignation leaves you, or you leave him. Now that the evenings are drawing in and the weather has a distinct chill it becomes more acute.

Nevertheless I have set myself an informal target, or challenge: 40 lovers (this year) by Christmas! Mid 30s already – so it shouldn’t require too much effort. That may make me appear the slattern; but of course, if it does, it is surely purely because… I am ;-)

Sleeping around, or even looking for Mr Right, doesn’t mean I am being properly gay – if that makes sense. A fellow and rather better blogger once wrote he was looking for a man who wasn’t defined by his sexuality. That phrasing haunts me somewhat and the meaning generated a lively discussion in the pub on Thursday but remains to me elusive. Worrisomely so. I shall have to think, at the very least, what I want from my man. And being gay I suppose. About time.