Happy New Year

The final post of 2008, and here I am. Out at last! The premise of this blog has changed somewhat from that I first intended – and it seems strangely a long time since I started, so in love was I, to write about my favourite topic - me!

Now, after a naughty but nice nine months what will we make with 2009? In many ways I’m keen for a completely fresh start. I’m going part time at work so for the first time my business is no longer a side-line but a crucial element of my income. I’m in a strange relationship limbo – is something ending, is something beginning, do we still have to keep one foot on the floor at all times? But whilst the search for Mr Right continues I’ve had a lot of… fun this year and I’m not entirely keen for that to stop! Who or whatever is out there, I am also going to put an emphasis on Me in 2009 in other ways – building my business, looking after myself better, being the best person I can be whether or not He is at the end of the rainbow.

I suppose we’ll have to see how it goes. I’m healthier and happier than ever before and there are definitely worse ways of ending a year. Great friends, and good times; lots of new experiences, and lots of new opportunities. Yes, there have been tough times and I’ve been silly, stupid, and downright ignorant probably. But that’s all part of it; I’m a lucky guy.

Now though, it’s time to stop drifting… the motto for 2009 is: Carpe Annum!

A friend commented recently about his worry that with all these assignations I was putting myself in danger. That clarified in my mind the fact that never once sleeping around had I a bad time. The guy I should have been safe with repaid me with… well, nothing says I love you like a hairline fracture ;-) No wonder the year ended better than it started. I really for the first time enjoy being me and I’m just starting to get a sense of self worth. The only thing that hurts me is when people think I’m less than who I am; the only time I hurt myself is by being less than who I could be.

I hope you had a great 2008 gentle reader; and more than that I hope that 2009 is better yet. Happy New Year to you.

Hoof

I’ve been away gentle reader living it large in London town. A big gay peripatetic one man idiot, ha ha.

On Saturday I went to have dinner with a very good friend and over a vast amount of wine and lovely food we talked well into the early hours, leaving myself somewhat worse for wear for my second date with the guy I met on Christmas Eve.

After such an enjoyable evening my fear of being somewhat unpresentable was enhanced when he asked to meet me earlier than planned. However, as my friend was travelling (hungover, by coach, to Cardiff; a journey even worse in my view than any bad date) I could not really complain about my unfortunate state too much; and, as the coach station is near my office, I realised I could use the facilities there to freshen up. So at 11:30 Christmas and I met, the shadows under my eyes – if not those behind them – scrubbed away.

Christmas and I walked along the South Bank for a bit before stopping for a coffee at the British Film Institute. After coffee we went back to his place for a rather noisier occasion than we allowed ourselves on Christmas Eve...

Although we spent hours and hours together I couldn’t really spend the night as Christmas was going to work at 5am. He’s a television journalist and travels a lot. However, I was anyway due to meet International for drinks on the occasion of his return to London after a few days with his family, so that worked out OK.

At this point of course I’d had about one hour’s sleep in the last 36 and really was keen for an early night whatever else happened and after a mediocre Italian meal in Notting Hill we headed back to his place.

Unfortunately it was a somewhat bad-tempered date as things are still a bit awkward between us and being somewhat tired I was also quite irritable too. The problem, I have realised, with International is that he thinks too little of me; and ‘us’. Of course this makes me sensitive and, lacking emotional maturity as much as I am bed rest, this was not good.

We didn’t have a row as such but I felt bad for not being scintillating company and had a restless night. Yet many of the clouds were lifted in the sunlight and we had a nice Monday morning together over a lazy breakfast. I did some work from his place before he needed to head out, and I made my way home.

So where are we? A quiet night in, I think, for me before I get my head down and get some work done over the next few days. International is going to Florida for two weeks with his real boyfriend. And Christmas and I have our third date on New Years Day (dinner at my place, etc).

Man

There was some minor controversy this year about the Pope’s Christmas message in which he apparently discussed the need to preserve gender roles. This caught my mind because of the current orthodoxy that whilst homosexuality is not a sin, homosexual acts are still very much on the stoning rota (a distinction no doubt of importance to priests in glass houses everywhere).

Anyway, put the two together and you have the clear idea that being gay makes one less of a man.

The fear of being thought less of a man is a part of why I denied my true nature for so long. Having a traditional, masculine, stoic father – though not man enough to raise his kids or pay the mortgage to be sure – made me question, as my sexuality first emerged, not whether I was gay but whether I was really comfortable being male.

The answer is that I love being male. One might say in many ways I can’t get enough of it. Certainly having come out I am sometimes a little vexed that people can’t tell and as such people who might be interested, and in whom I may have some interest too, assume I’m straight. But I enjoy rugby; beer; I like fixing things and growing things and occasionally punching things. I drive to fast and take silly risks.

And of course I enjoy the physical aspects of maleness, both in myself and others. A more muscular frame, strong jaw, strong nose, big hands, the whole… package. Oh yes, I enjoy all the male attributes of my boyfriends and lovers and assignations and in that respect might by the short sighted be seen as not fully male at all. But I don’t see liking rugby and beer making me more of a man any more than loving a man, in every sense, could diminish my masculinity.

So in short there is nothing about being gay that makes me less male, or more; and those of my gay friends I have canvassed quite agree.

But there is also, I fine, a freedom and opportunity of being gay. Of course there are pressures, and many challenges, but I think it is easier to be a man when you can grow and become who you want to be, rather than conform to pre-set expectations. I’d rather make my own mistakes than live someone else’s.

Thinking out loud as usual, gentle reader, Yet while I remain in good part ever undefined I enjoy that more than being a square peg in a round hole.

Merry Christmas

Frohes Weinachten; Joyeux Noel; Season’s Greetings gentle reader.

‘T’ got in touch with me the other day and we tried to arrange a get together but sadly we could not arrange any Christmas cheer. So on 23 December I met a few friends for drinks, picked up a Chinese takeaway and had an early night. I sent International a text explaining how I feel, which – in the light of no reply – was probably ill advised.

The early night was certainly advised, however, as on Christmas eve was my date! We met at Bar Museé and, hitting it off, went to the Rose and Crown (which is a gay pub in Greenwich) for more getting to know each other.

And from there… well, we really did hit it off so of course we went back to his place for some festive fun.

What was sweet was the fact that he had friends coming over later for Christmas and rather than kicking me out after the fact, as it were, he invited me to stay and meet them. So we cracked open the wine I bought for my Christmas, he, his friends and I had a lovely dinner and as the evening wore on got progressively worse for wear until, in the early hours of Christmas Day, we went to bed. And we even managed to get some sleep ;-)

At about 11am today I made my move, and he walked me part of the way home. No public transport on Christmas Day so I did end up walking for hours! But now I have the seal of approval of his friends and date two will be Sunday evening… so, who knows? I’m determined just to let things happen on their own; although I do think it was nice of him to introduce me to his friends and let me take up so much of his Christmas.

As for International; a very dear friend insists he needs to be ‘chinned’ and as I know more of the people she’s slept with than I know people I’ve slept with (if you see what I mean) I think we’re close enough to give her views some credence!

I’m not going to go into the New Year moping over International. I still care as deeply as ever but I always guessed the only way forward would be to let him go. I love him but perhaps I need to love me more! Actually I feel guilty it isn’t working out, but I’m still learning – I have very little relationship experience still, and International perhaps has a little too much. Ho hum, onward to 2009!

And for you; thank you for reading. Merry Christmas.

Disgusted of Woolwich

I’m going to take things a bit easy on the fuzunjulation front, at least for a little while. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind and today’s activities have given me cause to pause for thought.

The assignation was a local guy, very similar to me in many respects, but who wanted to meet on neutral territory in the form of a local cottage. It really has been a while – nearly two years I think – since I’ve done anything like that so I was surprisingly nervous as I headed out to meet him. I don’t mind al-fresco, even if the opportunities in this climate are limited. And the thought of getting caught doesn’t turn me on but beyond a certain threshold I simply do not care. My nervousness related to something else, and it was only after the encounter that I realised what it was; I don’t want to go backwards.

I don’t want to go back to bus-shelters and photo-booths and alleyways. So I’ll be sticking with the internet from now on, and enjoying my meets in the comfort to which I have become used! Talk about being reminded of more than you want to remember… but enough of that.

You see, if not backward then we must forward go – don’t you agree, gentle reader? And to that end I have a date, yes a date, on Christmas Eve.

I was on gaydar late this lunchtime seeing who was around but pretty half-heartedly after earlier events when a guy got in touch. Cute, local, the ideal age… well, naturally I replied and we ended up chatting for ages. Hit it off, if you will. So chat became text messages; text messages became a phone call; a phone call became lunch on Wednesday.

Very pleased with myself, for two reasons. Firstly, I asked him out, which is relatively rare for me. And I did it properly; “you seem really nice and I’d like to get to know you better so…” rather than “let’s make it shag-plus and have a drink somewhere first.”.

The second reason is, and I hope this makes sense, is I want to meet him because he seems really sweet and nice and I do want to know him better. This rather than the usual thing of being pleased someone has expressed an interest and going with it. Pursuing rather than being pursued (even if only perfunctorily).

Anyway, it promises to be a good date and a nice way of starting Christmas off properly. I’ll still be looking for the odd guy here and there for casual fun but… maybe it’s time to calm down and think about what happens next.

Undefined

A lot has happened in the last 24 hours, gentle reader, so it is time to think aloud once more and subject the ether to my musings…

Last night I went to my neighbour for cocktails and nibbles and Sex and the City and after many, many margaritas, I stumbled home and decided in a fit of whimsy to update my Facebook profile from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘it’s complicated’.

Virtually immediately Nick got in touch and suggested he come over for a drink, DVD etc. Classic modus operandi for him; get in touch in the early hours; suggest we watch a film; watch about 1/3 of said film; end up in bed. Last night’s booty call was no different.

It was, however, nice to hear from him and to be honest it was a welcome distraction from the events of the day. Nick spent the night, and we had more fun on the Sunday morning before he had to go to a lunch, and I had to go to Eltham for my pre-arranged assignation.

That was fun, oh yes, and I am very, very tired now. Back at home I contemplated procuring shag number four of the weekend but there was not much interest in little old me on gaydar (I really must refresh my profile), and to be fair I’m not sure how well I would have acquitted myself give my recent exertions! Certainly Eltham is keen to meet again, but right now I am drained!!

So, shag, shag but not all shag, gentle reader: oh no. Because Interspersed among all this were messages to and from International.

He said he hadn’t slept well last night, thinking about his life, and us. And to quote him “All I can say to you is that I have fallen for you. I love you and care about you so much. It is not just about the sex for me. I want to do the right thing for you as well as the right thing for me and if we are both getting stressed about it, that's not good is it?” He also agreed ‘it’s complicated’ was a fair assessment!

In my reply I advised him not to feel bad as it was a useful discussion we had and clarified things a lot. I said we were still seeing each other, and I for one am not getting stressed; we will just have to see how things go.

How do I feel? I don’t know yet. I’m probably going to have to go through some kind of five stages process to get my head round it all. There’s a bit of denial going on; he still loves me so it’s all OK right? But I know the situation has changed and while we are still together the value of together has shifted to something as yet undefined...

Stumped

On Thursday I was out with a very, very good friend and a number of her other friends. My friend’s friends are mostly gay men, hurrah, and a good time was had by all - at one point I was being force-fed long island iced teas – and not from a glass :-)

International called just as we were leaving the bar and asked to join me, so we met, had more drinks ended up back at mine. Ignoring our earlier promise to go straight to bed we, well, went straight to bed. There’s nothing quite like a quick, passionate, hardcore shag to round off a night on the tiles. Unfortunately the occasion of him calling was that he has been made redundant, and was pretty drunk himself when we met up. But he still gave a good account of himself in the wee small hours.

Today I saw International again – using the elderly aunt ruse that we could not employ before – and what can I say? The sex between us just keeps getting better and he was extremely complimentary. We were overcome with passion so I’m pretty sure anyone who happened to glance into my windows would have seen, oh my, a whole lotta lurvin’. But what’s done is done. And, gentle reader, in more than one way I’ve been done.

You see, International complained incidentally of all the ‘shit’ going on in his life. Enquiring tremulously whether I fell under the heading of ‘shit’ I was somewhat startled to find that, in not so many words, I do. So in no time our conversation became a Talk and, well, the edited highlights are:

International isn’t going to leave Ouch. He and I are not boyfriends; I am pretty much just someone he fucks. International doesn’t want me to see other people of course, but I shouldn’t harbour any ambition that he and I will live together and be happy ever after. He says it’s OK for him to have all the power in our relationship because he’s being faithful to me. Though he also does love me, and if he ever does leave Ouch I am definitely in the running…

For my part I explained I like sex, enjoy having it frequently, and in getting screwed – as in anything – I make my own choices.

We haven’t broken up, or at least not formally. But in many... well, I don’t know what this is. There was I thinking he was Mr Right, who he clearly isn’t.

I’m too shocked. I know for sure I absolutely have carte blanche to keep shagging around and maybe go back to dating too. Or at least that’s what my slightly hot head tells me. What my heart will report remains to be seen.

Stay tuned for the next exciting instalment… but in the mean time, here’s a button to enjoy.

Pendulum

Halfway through the week, and as per I’m really busy. But, strangely, loving the work and really feel challenged and that I’m working at a higher level than ever [reward, please?]. Fortunately, though, I have two weeks off from Friday, and yes while I will have occasionally to pop into the office, I’m going to enjoy the break.

As last year I’m spending Christmas with various neighbours and friends. And it looks like a bumper crop of social events that will be double plus fun, I reckon. Drinks last night, out again tomorrow. International on Saturday (followed by cocktails at a friend’s) and Monday International again; I hope he’s on the mend. If not, well then the bondage tape I got as a Christmas present on Tuesday might come in very handy… if not, the lovely book I was also given might!

As for the other days; well, ‘tis the season:

Friday I have tentatively scheduled an evening’s entertainment with a local gentleman. As so often happens with Squirt we’d messaged/emailed before but nothing came of it. Then tonight… well, we shall see. It’s easy to be imprudent on Squirt as things more often come to naught there, in my experience, at least compared to gaydar. But as mentioned before; Squirt has a broader range of clientele to enjoy. So it balances out in its own way.

Sunday… well, I’m a very naughty boy and as such have tentatively further arranged to spend it with a young man from Eltham for what promises to be hours of fun, oh my.

And tonight… well, my quiet night in was interrupted by a steamingly pornographic cybersex session with, you’ve guessed it, yet another guy from Squirt…

Oh, gentle reader, come now! Did you think I would be resolute after vacillating for so long? Lets us consider it thus: International – whom I love and adore – is as yet unsure how many boyfriends he wants; and remains yet unwilling to formally acknowledge me to be one of them (though there is no doubt I’m a candidate!). Love and sex are not the same thing, certainly not at three months I would submit. And my counsellor says it’s OK. And it’s Christmas… So why not?

As an aside, on Squirt I find myself persistently propositioned by really young guys – 18, 19, 20 etc. Far too young for me (in my mind at least). Sunday’s child is 21, which is barely respectable; in the sense one might say “whilst not respectable, 21 is still…” but after so many propositions from so many of these young guys I thought, well, again, why not?

Can you have too much of a good thing?

Zeitgeist

Yeah, when I said I was busy before… well, now I’m busier. I wish I could talk in detail about what I had to do today, but I can’t. It would bore you gentle reader; and more of that would be unforgivable. Fortunately this is my last week before Christmas and the break will do me good.

Now I’m home, and I’m (as always) missing my man. We exchanged the customary texts and emails today, as I complained about my day and enquired about his. And as we communicated I became more and more worried about him.

I’m not worried for Us, understand. But International is really down at the moment and of course one thing about our situation is that I can’t be there to do something about it. He says that all I need to do to cheer him up is smile the next time I see him. Of course, when he says that it makes me feel great. Nevertheless, he’s quite depressed – hopefully I’m not part of the reason (I don’t actually think I am); but that’s not the thing.

This is the thing: how do I be a good boyfriend when I can’t be there for him? OK, it’s not that I’m stuck working on an oil rig somewhere. And he has Ouch to keep him warm. Not a prospect that pleases me but I suppose I have to trust him to do what’s right for him, us, to take care of himself.

So here I am, tired, worried, having a very ill-advised glass of wine, thinking. Regular readers might know that I get quite insecure about things. I can’t be there. Ouch can be there, and no I don’t like that one bit. But it’s his… right I suppose. If International has to deal with the tough times all by himself what use am I? The occasional fuck? That’s not what I mortgaged my heart for. In fact this is exactly what I mean when I describe the difference between love and sex. I’m not just having a clandestine affair; I really do love him and it genuinely scares me to think I might inadvertently let him down (in rather more than the usual day to day way, I mean).

The whole point, in my view, of a relationship is the support and sharing and building a life together. I get infatuated and insecure, absolutely. I have no experience at this, not really. I think that just wishing I could help ain’t gonna cut it. Lucky my next counselling session on Thursday will be about relationships. Lots for me, in my self-destructive gorgeousness, to talk about!

Rainy Day

I went out last night to my friend’s leaving do and got very, very drunk. I had a really good time and got a healthy reminder of the importance of good friends. I love and adore mine, and must take better care of them in future!

In other news International and I did not meet up today; he couldn’t make it. We had a slightly strained discussion last night via the medium of text messaging; he seemed somewhat stressed and distant – though he insisted when pressed that all is well. Now it seems we shall not see each other until 22 December.

I recognise that we may not see each other too often (Ouch etc). Yet, the truth of the matter is I have, I think, a pretty high sex drive. When together International and I average two or three times a day. Sadly, that day only comes every two weeks. And to go from an average of a new partner every other day to sexual intimacy one day per fortnight is a sudden change. Anyone who reads this blog might know that I particularly enjoy threesomes and it was not unknown for me to have two or three assignations in a day [he boasts, he boasts]. After all, I’m not so long out of my closet and only then because it turned out there wasn’t really room in there for two.

Don’t get me wrong, International is a good and attentive lover and I like to think I know a trick or two. We do actively explore passion and I like those serendipitous discoveries (“Oh you like that, do you?” He thinks whilst leaning back just so). Mostly it’s just a 'I like sex and want more, oh so much more', thing.

One effect this has had is people are beginning to notice my arms becoming more developed. Another is that I sometimes still go on gaydar and Squirt for a look around. I get a bit jealous of people that are having more and better sex than me, you see (International is not the only one who might like to have his cake and eat it!).

Today on gaydar I had quite a bit of interest. One guy is the architect I hooked up with before and wrote about a while ago. It was nice of him to get in touch (I’m always flattered when past lovers do) and I certainly did not discourage him. Another was a guy in the local area who sadly proved unsuitable because he flatly refused to practise safe sex. A pity really, as he fit the bill otherwise rather well; who knows what may have happened? And the third turned out to be in Harrow which is unfortunately far away.

So, monomagous still – though exploring my options once again. No doubt on or around 22 December the pendulum will swing back the other way. In the meantime, gentle reader, there is tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow…

PS I thought about updating my profile pictures on gaydar today, but the morning after a night spanking it hard is not the best time as you can see!

Olympic

International took me ice skating last night! We went to the Natural History Museum and went on the ice outside there. It was tremendous fun; I’d never been ice skating before. Thus I fell over, a lot, and today have sore arms and legs and appear to have come perilously close to a groin strain. Tee Hee. It was so sweet of him to treat me; and of him to hold my hand as I skittered hither and thither across the ice, scaring no small number of people along the way (to his intense amusement; in some cultures I might be expected to marry some of the people I blundered into. All a bit embarassing).

Afterward we went to Earls Court for a lovely Chinese meal and smooches in a ‘friendly’ venue – but that had been transformed since International’s last visit into a gastro-pub. So back to the retro bar for us it was to end the evening off.

It was a wonderful evening and he was so nice. He held my hand wherever we walked and told me how much he loved me. I don't deserve* such treatment

Of course our conversation turned to our situation, if only briefly. International did see to be a bit annoyed that I was so tolerant of the status quo; but I explained that (a) pressurising him to make a change would not be nice (b) it would not be healthy for our relationship and (c) I wouldn’t want him to precipitately take action he’d regret. In part that last one comes from an uncertainty that I can yet compete with the six-figure earning suave and sophisticated Frenchman. After all, I can barely spell (see last post!).

But, but, but, what a great night. The way he makes me feel really helps me get through the tough times – and right now things are a bit tough with the sheer volume of work if nothing else. I’m going to have to sit my employers down and see if we can get rid of at least two of my nine projects. Just so you know - accident and emergency; trauma and orthopaedics; mental health; workforce strategy; patient and public awareness; patient surveys; primary care development; annual planning for 09/10; and day to day oversight of about nine hospitals. Not that I’m showing off ;-)

Yes, love is grand.

International and I will hopefully be having muches smooches and double plus more on Saturday, oh fingers so very crossed gentle reader. On that occasion I will be cunningly disguised as an errand for an elderly aunt. But I don’t mind. I’m totally loved up right now. And it really, really makes it all worthwhile.

Onward and upward

Wow! It is so busy at work it is unreal. 8 till 6 and no lunch… we can but hope things ease up soon. But I won’t bore you with that today gentle reader, oh no. For there are other things afoot.

This evening I had another counselling session and today’s theme was ‘being gay’. My counsellor wanted to explore my earliest sexual experiences. Unfortunately I was in a very reticent mood and not willing to discuss in detail. I think it had been a long day. So he kept trying to prompt me and things got more disturbing by the second. No, I was not 13; no he was not in the navy… nasty. He did, however, also want to talk a lot about International and he remains resolute that three months is very little time really and I should keep seeing other men if I want too. Poor International! The whole world rails against my self-enforced monogamy. Yet monogamous I remain.

My counsellor also keeps going on about how gorgeous I am which, whilst undoubtedly true (honest Guv’), is going a bit above and beyond the call and has begun to make me somewhat uncomfortable. On the plus side, however, he assures me one day my prince will come – and I contrarily argue that I must accept the possibility that he might not (not wishing to assume International is said prince).

Tomorrow International is whisking me off for a surprise of some sort. I think I’ve guessed what it is; but I shall reveal all later. It certainly involves something outdoors. How intriguing! How exciting. It’s nice that he’s planning something spontaneous and romantic. N-one;s ever done that before for me. It has me all a-quiver.

And Thursday I have a client, hurrah. I doubt a high paying one but the work they want me to do is embarrassingly light and at least I shall have something to put in my brand-spanking-new business account. This will give me a reason to leave the office early; which will also allow me to pick up my wine order which has finally arrived. Any fans of Management Buzzword Bingo will cringe at phrases like ‘synergy’ but when it works…

And Friday, a good friend’s leaving do – jumping the same ship I did a few months ago. I foresee a good time will be had by all, and that Saturday will be a very miserable day indeed ;-)

A week on today is the three month anniversary. This means International is officially my second longest lasting boyfriend ever. I’m wondering whether to do something to mark it. Month one was Spain; month two was his birthday. This time it’s Christmas. Well, I shall wait for inspiration to strike. In the meantime a well deserved glass of wine for and the never ever-lasting embrace of my bed…

Loose end

Harrumph. Harrumph I say! For it’s the weekend and I am at a loose end. All dressed down and nowhere to go.

I blame International for this intolerable state of affairs; if I were not in a relationship with him – or at least still casting a roving eye – then I could roam across the internet and meet guys for some double plus naughty fun. But no, that option is closed to me. In my mind’s eye I picture he and Ouch getting up to all manner of fun; shopping, the cinema… smooches? Grrr! Advantage, International. While I sit here alone. Harrumph.

Of course there are things I could do – the distinction between having things to do and boredom has been the subject of many a frank discussion with past employers over the years – but writing all my Christmas cards and tidying up my YouTube favourites etc seem like chores.

So, I am in a relationship; and the duller for it then. I will admit, as we head for our three month anniversary, that the initial headlong rush is calming down a bit, as is only to be expected. But it’s nice to replace that with getting to know him better and find out more. We really don’t know much about each other at all well right now, which makes this romance all the more preposterous. But when he was here last we did talk and I learned more about him and his upbringing and family. Make no mistake, I still crave his presence in my arms and the thought of him is guaranteed to put a smile on my face. Oh dear, Mike’s got it bad!

We continue to text or message each other several times a day. But as yet we have not fixed a time/day when we will see each other again. I am pretty sure we’ll have at least a day together before Christmas – which of course isn’t enough, so we’ll have to arrange something more then, won’t we?

I’m hoping for a subscription to The Economist from International for Christmas; I dropped some pretty heavy hints. Like “buy me a subscription to The Economist for Christmas”. So we will see. Today I bought for myself a subscription to Gay Times and Men’s Health, so there’ll be plenty to oggle while I wait for my brain to be stimulated. In the New Year I am keen to properly tackle my body and get some proper rippling gorgeousness going – I dare but whisper it really, but there is a hint (just a hint) of a six-pack after all my weight loss. Oh yes, gentle reader, we likey.

As for the portion weekend that remains: dinner, wine, and (one of my favourite shows ever) the West Wing.

Rotation

We tolerate surprisingly little extroversion in Britain (though we seem keen to indulge banks that can’t count). But I’m in a talk to strangers and dance in the rain mood right now. Things have been a bit of a whirlwind over the last few days, and in the nicest possible way. Including work; though it remains hugely busy (the annual leave ban remains in force for months and months) I am genuinely excited by my new projects – as well as keeping some of my existing projects. It’ll be tough, but it should be challenging in the way I like – stimulating intellectually, genuinely knotty problems, busy, yet getting things done.

But enough of work! On Wednesday there was an evening trip to Harvey Nichols with some of my bestest friends, which involved champagne cocktails, and Manhattans, and other cocktails I don’t quite remember. Then onto Liberty, and onward further then to even more cocktails. Yum yum, yum yum. This, of course, meant I was slightly worse for wear – but only slightly, gentle reader – for International’s return.

Thursday: this time I was an overrunning meeting with NGOs, or similar. As you may have gathered I am happy to take what I’m given. Nevertheless International and I certainly made up for lost time (a new sofa will be added soon to the Christmas list). Fun all night and fun all morning [double plus ;-)]. International was, not unconnectedly, in quite a good mood this morning which makes a change. Light or dark, rain or shine, I of course remain evermore, unchanging in my loveliness, the Cheerful Fairy.

And here we have Friday; I did other things beginning with F today. I bought a phone and some fairy lights. I’m SO pleased with the phone. Check it out! A fabulous edition to my home office. Have I dialled myself? Of course I have! Bling bling, ring ring. At the third stroke, the time (sponsored by my bank manager) will be fabulous o’clock.

International did not Talk to Ouch at the weekend – it didn’t come up. And, interestingly, I have noticed as time goes by it is harder, and hard, for me to talk of Ouch in a ‘your boyfriend’ ‘your partner’ sense. So… well, it’s not easy but then what’s new? It was, though, good to just be in his arms that night. Being in love like this makes all the petty hardships and little stressors in life all worthwhile (as, of course, do shopping and cocktails too). And, sorry so sorry, but him being a great lover really makes a difference. It just does.

So then, deep breath, relax. No more sugar for Mike. But I end the week more in love than I was before and happier, not so much for that, but because I have done nothing to challenge it, or analyse it, or take the shine off my unalloyed delight. So maybe I shall rest here in this place a little while longer…

Fame and Fortune

Ho ho ho! Today I got my new business bank account sorted. I’m so pleased! The business-manager type who dealt with me was very nice and seemed genuinely supportive of my modest aspirations – how much of this was hyperbole I can never know, although she did go as far as researching marketing techniques for businesses of my type, to help me; in my view going above and beyond the call of duty. I suspect my efforts to prepare properly for the appointment helped break the ice too though; preparation is the key!

Now I have lots of new toys and brochures and packs of literature to play with at home which, in my credulity, I quite like (I have a stationery fetish too).

In the meantime I also had a haircut; and cleaned* the apartment; and I got loads of work done; AND I flirted with International, as is my custom. Frumpella the Double Plus Efficient Fairy today!

Yes I’m glad it’s done, gentle reader, because even if I meet the never so modest income forecasts from my small business then I should be able to eventually fund the love-nest of International and I… the one in my dreams that is… and happy ever after we shall be. That contentment may be such a burden! *sigh*

In the meantime, tonight I enjoy some baroque music, and a glass or three of nice new-world Colombard in anticipation of the time – Thursday (and via the pretence of an overrunning meeting at the European Commission) - that I see International again. It has been too long since he told me he loves me; I am anxious to hear those words again. Tomorrow it is back to the office, and who can say what workload awaits? Though I remain hopeful of cocktails in the evening.

And, as even I am moved to shift my traditional not-until-Christmas-eve humbug stance, (alongside Christmas coming too early I also disapprove of the saxophone and mustard) I leave you with this carol, which I find rather lovely…

Routine

Busy busy, always busy! In many ways it’s really nice; it means International and I have settled into something of a routine without the shine wearing off yet. This is normally the stage when my clingy insecure nature makes me ruin everything. So I need to be careful...

Over the last week I bumped into my friend, neighbour and one time date L, not once but twice. Both of us have started relationships at about the same time so it was good to chat about that as we wandered home from, variously, the train station and the supermarket. L is fun, but tends to be annoyingly two steps ahead of me – I’ve ended up dating quite a few people he dated before me for example. So I pick up tips and watch for clues.

Another gay friend (I still classify my friends as either ‘gay’ or ‘your round’) recently got a good job with a vanishingly small bit of help from me which is great news. And yet another – a fellow blogger this time – met someone via gaydar and seems to have fallen head over heels in love at first sight. Ish. So I'm a little jealous.

Is this winter the time for change? I’m not in a position to canvas the gayers generally. Being the little-gay-engine-that-could I cannot speak for my breeder brethren. But for me all is in flux; job, home-life, love-life.

Sex life too. International and I have drifted from passive/active to versatile/versatile which is...intriguing... and keeps things pretty fresh. International isn’t very adventurous, and stands on principle in odd ways – refusing the let me do things he would very much like as he would not reciprocate - even though I wouldn’t like those particular things anyway (not my cup of tea, but I’m nice like that!). Sorry gentle reader; too much detail? So be it.

Being a serial monogamist (well, you know what I mean) he’s had relatively few sexual partners and while I refuse to feel bad about my experimentation I find his depth of experience, as opposed to my breadth [hark at him] induces some anxiety. Whatever I’ve done he’s done more in the relationship, love, being with someone sense.

International is out tonight with his friends including the last person he had an affair with – and I’m the topic se soir. I’m eager to hear what insights will be derived from this winter’s night. And particularly on tenterhooks to find out what discussions were had between International and Ouch at the weekend - if any. Yes, in many ways we are on the cusp. A new moon, new year, new life… Soldiering on.

I was struck today by the coverage of World Aids Day, and how many people were out campaigning and fund-raising. In my 13 years in London I don’t recall as much passion before; it’s a great sign of hope and reminded me I’m lucky to have a future, whatever happens. Well, here’s to the move from hoping to planning, dreaming to building. So cross fingers.