The Academic lives in Banbury. That’s fine in terms of time; not much more than 90 minutes on the train. Not so nice in terms of cost/planning. The hoops I have to jump through helps me dimly understand why long distance relationships often don’t work. One can’t choose when to travel and manage costs at the same time (one or the other; the Eisenbahn Uncertainty Principle), which means one’s sex life, love life, social life are in the hands of some outside agency – in this case Chiltern Railways. For example, Chiltern Railways seems to consider the privilege of staying the night with The Academic should command a surcharge of £27.
Actually it’s not so bad, though I wish I knew when I would get paid next so I could plan ahead – the baseline scenario I’m thinking about, pending things developing nicely, is alternate weekends (him to me and me to him). Maybe I should use the excuse to buy a car… but there’re ways of minimising the cost should things settle down into a relationship/routine.
It’s going to be tough in any event to juggle a hugely busy job, business clients (which with luck should start becoming more frequent from the last quarter of this calendar year) and a long distance relationship plus gym (honest guv’), friends etc.
Is this infatuated blouse Mike as per usual? No, no… I’m just willing to start a relationship with the Academic – so being a Thinker this is what I’m Thinking about. We’ll see how it goes. Careful planning and dollops of maturity is what this will require, if ‘this’ turns out to be something.
The first step to that is our next date; Wednesday evening and it is at the Academic’s place. He himself said he would come to me the next time “if we got that far”, as he put it. This business with Gareth has left me feeling uncertain about whether I should go 'all the way' with the Academic on Wednesday or leave it a while yet. Well, events will take their course – believe me I get far too excited to care about the proprieties and conventions; but then that may be my undoing!
On Sunday Gareth called as arranged and he ultimately explained that having had time to think he sees no future for us (despite me being very nice and his enjoying our time together). I suppose him taking the time to explain that to me does him credit; though my tip for anyone thinking about doing the same is never never never tell the dumpee you regret having sex with them (on a first date in this instance but the principle is a general one I would suggest).
How did I take the news? Rule 4! Rule 4! I was calm, though very upset on the inside. I am, in fact, quite angry – I feel robbed that someone could make that kind of decision about me so precipitately. But I suppose I haven’t got space to dwell; a new job tomorrow, the Academic on Wednesday, another date in London on Thursday and then a weekend in Edinburgh… if not a smitten kitten then still a busy bee. No time for feelings!
Sunday 31 August 2008
Saturday 30 August 2008
Duality
After getting more exceedingly good advice I decided to send a follow up message to Gareth so that (a) he wouldn’t think I am so angry things can’t be fixed and (b) to ensure that he really does know how I feel – I was pretty sure he knows but he claims not to have received the emails I sent him and so on so a lot of the evidence is [conveniently] lost to the ether:Hi. I know I said in my last [message] that I’d wait to hear from you – and after this I will – but I realised you may not know how much I like you and how much I enjoy being with you. Which is lots! Till Sunday x
Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I have some fight left in me, gentle reader, but not for a hopeless cause. So Till Sunday!!
On Friday I went to
Oxford to meet a guy I’d been chatting to for a while on OUT. For a non-dating website that really has thrown my way a lot of prospects! In truth his pictures were pretty dreamy and it kind of evolved into a date as we made our plans. I arrived a bit early so I wandered a bit and did the touristy thing. It was a relatively summery afternoon, and the dreaming spires were beautiful indeed (hence the pics).He and I met, and had a couple of drinks, and he showed me a few more interesting sights in the town, and we happened – by pure coincidence, to be sure - on a gay bar (a converted Tudor townhouse painted pink with a rainbow flag hanging above the door and burlesque statues
dotted around the outside. Not subtle!). Once settled in there, there were muches-smooches indeedy. So much so I now have quite a rash around my face as he hadn’t shaved. And we pretty much agreed that intelligent cute guys who made him feel relaxed and made him laugh are pretty OK; and that tall, slim, beautiful academics with blue eyes I could drown in are just fine too. And perhaps best of all, though I was all for a 'Rule Two' by this point [so what else is new?], was his insistence on a strict adherence to Rule One, which has all but guaranteed a date two…Of course that didn’t stop him kissing me all the way back to the train station which was mighty fine indeed.
Maybe I should wait for Gareth to make up his mind; or come to terms with his mind; or whatever it is – maybe I should give myself a break. But I play by my own rules, nobody else’s; not even my own. And I do go out with dudes.
Thursday 28 August 2008
Grazie
I love the comments and feedback from people who read this blog. These comments, I find, often challenge my views and help me reassess my perspective.
My personality type a la Myers Briggs is Intuitive/Introvert (though I have become much more extrovert since coming out it must be said). This supposedly means I am: original; driven; purposeful; organised; critical; independent; demanding; determined; and have an ass that won’t quit. Well, maybe the last one isn’t part of the Myers-Briggs constellation. But my strongest trait is Thinking: I base my decisions on logic, objective analysis, and deliberation upon cause and effect.
The kind of guy for whom the road to love is destined to be smooth, n’est pas?
Anyway, the comments I got on the previous post gave me some sort of foundation to begin the Thinking process and I decided that instead of excoriating Gareth across the ether I would send a more measured response to bridge the gap between last night’s unpleasantness and Sunday’s, well, unpleasantness:
Hi. I’ve thought about it and I’m still not clear on what you were trying to say last night; I don’t know whether you’re dropping me or you want to take things slow or what? I have a lot to say so do think about what you want, and want to say, and I’ll wait to hear from you.
The truth is I really don’t know whether he’s saying that this is the end; but my Thoughts are that anyone who has sufficient doubts to raise them at four dates/one month isn’t aiming to be Mr Happy-Fun “panting love slave” Boyfriend.
And that, at the core of it, is what makes me angry; I feel really hard done by that instead of taking things as they come, seeing how things go and giving things chance to grow and evolve (because I really was trying) I’m in a position where things have to be measured and defined and pigeon-holed. Comments give me a more rational basis on which to move forward, and for that I am grateful.
I also remain fully committed to not hanging round like a lovelorn damsel waiting for her errant knight to return, and to that end I did have a good trawl on gaydar, and breakfast on Thursday was a rather attentive Portugese architect built to a very high specification indeed. Yummo! And I had dinner/drinks with a great friend (my fabulous former boss in fact) that did wonders to cheer me up. AND I’ve begun a series of blisteringly flirtatious emails and texts with a guy from OUT.
Memo to self: is that a phone in your pocket or are you just in a surprisingly good mood to be here?
PS found a great blog today that, annoyingly, seems to be written by a rather better and more articulate version of me. Hate him already; check him out.
Best laid plans
Gareth travelled back today from a long weekend away, so I wanted to make our date/meeting this evening as hassle free [and special] as possible for him. However, when we spoke this afternoon Gareth instead wanted to meet in town, and a bit later than we had discussed before; I reluctantly agreed, and in fact I was at the time a bit disappointed because I was secretly looking forward to snuggles and the rest at Chez G!
Anyway, Gareth and I met on the South Bank (Benugo’s this time) and we had a couple of drinks and he seemed quite affectionate, and I thought the evening was going really well. But then, about 10pm, my world came crashing down.
Gareth seemed quite on tenterhooks all evening, and kept saying how this was the fourth time we’d met, etc. And I thought that things were going to take a great leap forward – but sadly not.
It seems Gareth is uncertain and consumed with doubt about whether or not he and I could build a relationship. He wanted to let me know now so I wouldn’t get hurt later, allegedly. He said he regretted the fact we’d gone to bed on our first date. Charming.
In fact he was articulating himself very poorly and presumably my rapidly evolving demeanour did not help the words trip off his tongue. I tried to press him on whether he was saying he didn’t want to see me again, but he would not be drawn. Instead he’s going to think about things and call me on Sunday. Or maybe we’ll meet up. Oh joy.
In truth I can’t decide whether I’m more angry or upset (I’m a lot of both right now). To have someone essentially try and set out that he couldn’t decide if I’m too unpleasant to keep seeing as my, apparently regrettable, sluttishness was getting in the way is pretty galling. To have him do it whilst holding my hand is something else.
It’s all I can do not to call, text, or email him to tell him exactly what I think of him right now. Normally that isn’t a problem for me; I have my pride! But this time: well, thank God for brand-spanking-new Rule 4: let no man take away your dignity.
I did make clear to Gareth that I’m not willing to sit in Limbo while he makes up his mind (and in that I am quite sincere). I know he’s going to drop me on Sunday, so what’s the point? What annoys me particularly, though, is that I’ll be analysing and conjecturing all the way from can to can’t until he deigns to get off his arse/cloud and make up his mind. And quite possibly beyond…
Memo to men generally: much as we appreciate cock, it would be even better if you grew some balls as well.
Anyway, Gareth and I met on the South Bank (Benugo’s this time) and we had a couple of drinks and he seemed quite affectionate, and I thought the evening was going really well. But then, about 10pm, my world came crashing down.
Gareth seemed quite on tenterhooks all evening, and kept saying how this was the fourth time we’d met, etc. And I thought that things were going to take a great leap forward – but sadly not.
It seems Gareth is uncertain and consumed with doubt about whether or not he and I could build a relationship. He wanted to let me know now so I wouldn’t get hurt later, allegedly. He said he regretted the fact we’d gone to bed on our first date. Charming.
In fact he was articulating himself very poorly and presumably my rapidly evolving demeanour did not help the words trip off his tongue. I tried to press him on whether he was saying he didn’t want to see me again, but he would not be drawn. Instead he’s going to think about things and call me on Sunday. Or maybe we’ll meet up. Oh joy.
In truth I can’t decide whether I’m more angry or upset (I’m a lot of both right now). To have someone essentially try and set out that he couldn’t decide if I’m too unpleasant to keep seeing as my, apparently regrettable, sluttishness was getting in the way is pretty galling. To have him do it whilst holding my hand is something else.
It’s all I can do not to call, text, or email him to tell him exactly what I think of him right now. Normally that isn’t a problem for me; I have my pride! But this time: well, thank God for brand-spanking-new Rule 4: let no man take away your dignity.
I did make clear to Gareth that I’m not willing to sit in Limbo while he makes up his mind (and in that I am quite sincere). I know he’s going to drop me on Sunday, so what’s the point? What annoys me particularly, though, is that I’ll be analysing and conjecturing all the way from can to can’t until he deigns to get off his arse/cloud and make up his mind. And quite possibly beyond…
Memo to men generally: much as we appreciate cock, it would be even better if you grew some balls as well.
Monday 25 August 2008
Ask!
On Sunday I was reading Postsecret, which is one of the most beautiful sites on the internet – and which regularly brings me to tears; I urge you to visit it. And it occurred to me, seeing all these people publish their darkest secrets, that when I start my new job it will be the first totally new situation/environment I’ve experienced as an out gay man. Because so many of my former colleagues are also my friends I’ve had an incredible crutch to support me both in and out to help me shake it all about. And now… that’s gone. They’re still my friends, of course, but this time my little boat is making its voyage all alone and I don’t know what storms and monsters it will face. Well, I still have to captain my boat well and I’m sure I’ll steer a course somehow.
Enough metaphor! Back to whimsy and caprice. I’ve been considering starting going swimming again, and maybe *gasp* going to the gym – my weight loss programme has plateaud at 80kg, which was my primary goal, but I want to get down to 75kg and turn them kg into something more useful. Therefore I’ve been looking at what’s available locally and I have been pleasantly surprised by the facilities available, if not by the price. I hope Gareth will be suitably appreciative of the results ;-)
I once promised Gareth that I would answer his questions honestly, which he promptly derided as hokum! So, having seen others do it, I now extent that courtesy to you, gentle reader. Since I may not have a great deal to blog about for a little while, do you have any questions? Feedback? Hints and tips for the anxious and frumpy gay man about town? Alternatively I would love to hear the story of how you and your partner met, and got together… how quickly did you decide to become boyfriends? How long was it till you moved in together?
Inspiration greatly appreciated!
Enough metaphor! Back to whimsy and caprice. I’ve been considering starting going swimming again, and maybe *gasp* going to the gym – my weight loss programme has plateaud at 80kg, which was my primary goal, but I want to get down to 75kg and turn them kg into something more useful. Therefore I’ve been looking at what’s available locally and I have been pleasantly surprised by the facilities available, if not by the price. I hope Gareth will be suitably appreciative of the results ;-)
I once promised Gareth that I would answer his questions honestly, which he promptly derided as hokum! So, having seen others do it, I now extent that courtesy to you, gentle reader. Since I may not have a great deal to blog about for a little while, do you have any questions? Feedback? Hints and tips for the anxious and frumpy gay man about town? Alternatively I would love to hear the story of how you and your partner met, and got together… how quickly did you decide to become boyfriends? How long was it till you moved in together?
Inspiration greatly appreciated!
Saturday 23 August 2008
Self Control
I have a terrible inability to keep things – that is, matters of the heart - in perspective. Hence The Rules, and their being more honoured in the breach than in the observance.
This coming Wednesday will be only the fourth time that I will have seen Gareth. I’m sure my ramblings and ravings have made it seem longer; though there have been the online messages (via Guardian Soulmates), text messages, emails and telephone calls too. Still, whoa-Betsy! You can see what I mean by infatuation:
Infatuation is the state of being completely carried away by unreasoned passion or love. Infatuation usually occurs at the beginning of a relationship. It is characterised by urgency, intensity, desire, and/or anxiety, in which there is an extreme absorption in another. It is traditionally associated with youth.
Then again, I suppose that shows that I’m young at heart!
I had my ‘leaving do’ yesterday and as a parting gift (one of many) my former colleagues gave me a large peace lily, now named Esmeralda, and taking pride of place in my living room. I’m glad to move on and I know I’m taking with me life-long friends (and some not – one of my former colleagues has already ‘unfriended’ me on Facebook!).
I have indulged in a bit of retail therapy today too despite being somewhat hung-over. But it got me out of the house and gave me a chance to think whilst not thinking, if that makes sense. It certainly helped me have a bijou epiphanyette:
I’ve realised that going from dating someone to being in a Relationship with them (I use the upper-case correctly; I have a relationship with everyone – even my postman, but that is one of mutual loathing and that is not quite what I mean here) involves moving from the periphery of their life – an add-on if you will – to being the core; no more new experiences to be had alone, and nothing old that isn’t shared.
It has been rare indeed to meet someone as willing to put me at the centre of their lives as I have for them, and dealing with that made me forget recently that going out on a limb has never really back-fired on me… Gareth knows how much I like him, I think. I should trust him to let me know how he feels in his own good time. And good time it will have to be – all this after not quite four dates? I must seem like a fool! All my friends caution me it is early days but do I listen? Well, it is time to be a bit more mature and let Gareth grow into Mr Right as and when he wants to. Or not; we shall see.
So now I start my week off, with my list of things to do: a rising heart supporting a sinking head.
This coming Wednesday will be only the fourth time that I will have seen Gareth. I’m sure my ramblings and ravings have made it seem longer; though there have been the online messages (via Guardian Soulmates), text messages, emails and telephone calls too. Still, whoa-Betsy! You can see what I mean by infatuation:
Infatuation is the state of being completely carried away by unreasoned passion or love. Infatuation usually occurs at the beginning of a relationship. It is characterised by urgency, intensity, desire, and/or anxiety, in which there is an extreme absorption in another. It is traditionally associated with youth.
Then again, I suppose that shows that I’m young at heart!I had my ‘leaving do’ yesterday and as a parting gift (one of many) my former colleagues gave me a large peace lily, now named Esmeralda, and taking pride of place in my living room. I’m glad to move on and I know I’m taking with me life-long friends (and some not – one of my former colleagues has already ‘unfriended’ me on Facebook!).
I have indulged in a bit of retail therapy today too despite being somewhat hung-over. But it got me out of the house and gave me a chance to think whilst not thinking, if that makes sense. It certainly helped me have a bijou epiphanyette:
I’ve realised that going from dating someone to being in a Relationship with them (I use the upper-case correctly; I have a relationship with everyone – even my postman, but that is one of mutual loathing and that is not quite what I mean here) involves moving from the periphery of their life – an add-on if you will – to being the core; no more new experiences to be had alone, and nothing old that isn’t shared.
It has been rare indeed to meet someone as willing to put me at the centre of their lives as I have for them, and dealing with that made me forget recently that going out on a limb has never really back-fired on me… Gareth knows how much I like him, I think. I should trust him to let me know how he feels in his own good time. And good time it will have to be – all this after not quite four dates? I must seem like a fool! All my friends caution me it is early days but do I listen? Well, it is time to be a bit more mature and let Gareth grow into Mr Right as and when he wants to. Or not; we shall see.
So now I start my week off, with my list of things to do: a rising heart supporting a sinking head.
Thursday 21 August 2008
Sonnenblumen
I’ve suddenly realised what the problem was! I feel unattractive and uncertain. Last Saturday put me in a bad mood because I dented my already fragile self image. My slutty phase is coming to an end and I have nothing to replace it with 'except' Gareth, who is more than adequate, but it feels a bit all-eggs-in-one-basket. Still, I never did have my month off (or man detox as my friend rather more succinctly puts it); that’s life though. I plan to take August off and on 31 July I meet a gorgeous guy!
Also, I realise I haven’t been very busy lately, and being busy is important to me. Usually the combination of a frump-attack and spare time on my hands means I look for assignations but this time I am staring at (to paraphrase the late Douglas Adams) The Long Dark Bank Holiday of the Soul. I wish I was spending it with Gareth... but no, Mr Man has to have a life...
Well then: here’s the plan; sort out the balcony (my sunflowers are finally coming up but I’m overrun with gladioli); treat myself to The Dark Knight at the cinema; get up to speed with the new job; drum up some new business clients; and finally, catch up with old friends. And, possibly, with new ones – I’ve been invited to Oxford for a day trip on Friday next.
Plus of course I have planned out next Wednesday's date with Gareth with meticulous precision – and there’ll be more about that later!
So a nice week off with lots of ‘me’ time, and things to enjoy.
I went into my new workplace yesterday afternoon, and let’s just say I can see why they asked me to come in early. It sounds like a tough project for various reasons but they picked me to do it so I guess I have that je ne sais pas ce qui. Enough to get the systems so that in place that eight million people can all get state financed medical treatment on the basis of need regardless of what hospital or doctor they go to, or what is wrong with them, within 18 weeks of referral, and that it is of a quality they are satisfied with – and to do all this by November. Not all by myself of course - there'll be six of us! Daunting – I may not have time for lurvin’! Still – I do like to be busy [be careful what you wish for].
Also, I realise I haven’t been very busy lately, and being busy is important to me. Usually the combination of a frump-attack and spare time on my hands means I look for assignations but this time I am staring at (to paraphrase the late Douglas Adams) The Long Dark Bank Holiday of the Soul. I wish I was spending it with Gareth... but no, Mr Man has to have a life...
Well then: here’s the plan; sort out the balcony (my sunflowers are finally coming up but I’m overrun with gladioli); treat myself to The Dark Knight at the cinema; get up to speed with the new job; drum up some new business clients; and finally, catch up with old friends. And, possibly, with new ones – I’ve been invited to Oxford for a day trip on Friday next.
Plus of course I have planned out next Wednesday's date with Gareth with meticulous precision – and there’ll be more about that later!
So a nice week off with lots of ‘me’ time, and things to enjoy.
I went into my new workplace yesterday afternoon, and let’s just say I can see why they asked me to come in early. It sounds like a tough project for various reasons but they picked me to do it so I guess I have that je ne sais pas ce qui. Enough to get the systems so that in place that eight million people can all get state financed medical treatment on the basis of need regardless of what hospital or doctor they go to, or what is wrong with them, within 18 weeks of referral, and that it is of a quality they are satisfied with – and to do all this by November. Not all by myself of course - there'll be six of us! Daunting – I may not have time for lurvin’! Still – I do like to be busy [be careful what you wish for].
Tuesday 19 August 2008
One hand clapping
So what exactly is different this time? That is the question I am asking myself as my bad mood has been sustained far longer than I would have wished. What is it that is wrong?
Well, I think part of it is that I just don’t enjoy liking someone but being on tenterhooks for the moment they decide they don’t really like me. We’ve been there enough times over the last six months. But the better I am at finding a guy I do like, the harder it becomes to find the next one. My own little 'koan'.
The difference, however, between this and all the other times I have worn my heart as carelessly on my sleeve as a cheaply made cufflink is this:
- the others I have been satisfied to have. Gareth is more who I want;
- I can’t distract myself with casual assignations, friends’ platitudes or retail therapy;
- I demand nothing in return, though how I do hope, gentle reader…
Of course I may simply be growing up; but it is perhaps growing old that concerns me and though yet no inkling of mortality I am consumed too much by with whom I should share this allotted span of mine?
Well, one last ditch attempt at distractions then! I start my new job soon, hurrah, and my first assignment is working on the NHS 18 week target. I’ve been called in early to meet my colleagues and get my project going two weeks before I’m due to officially start work - so I’m wondering exactly what I will find. Still, a new challenge…
I was also today invited to Edinburgh for a friend’s 40th birthday and much as I wanted to go I can’t really justify the expense alongside everything else I need to get done in September – new hoover, new anti-virus for the PC, new suit, settle the wine account(!).
In fact my mood was only partially alleviated by a brief exchange of texts with Gareth on Monday. Well, actually I broke my pledge to give him a little break and texted him to tell him I missed him. He called me today as arranged and we chatted for quite some time. Unfortunately due to various factors, not least engineering works in the Wirral area, we aren't going to see each other till next Wednesday! It is quite the effort to take things as they come! I do hope he doesn't go completely off me by then!! I may bake a cake to bring with me - that may help; I does good cakes I does.
I am frightened this is the beginning of the end. Perhaps I’m being cynical? I wonder if it is in fact a little strange to get pre-emptively miserable about something that has not happened. A sign I should take my friend’s advice and have a man detox? If this one doesn't work out then perhaps I shall.
Sunday 17 August 2008
Pouty
I’m in a bad mood today gentle reader. In fact so much so I am experiencing one of the vanishingly rare occasions when I would prefer to be someone else.
Last night I went out for a neighbour’s birthday. He is gay too as were virtually all of the people that were also out celebrating. On the one hand there was a really nice couple who were the loveliest people and really into each other; and on the other was a very tall, thin good looking guy who was bang up to date with fashion, knew how to accessorise perfectly, and looked a lot younger than he was. Making me a jealous bitch twice over.
After dancing the night away the lovely couple went home to be adoring and adorable at home; the good looking guy went home with a lot of other good looking guys and yours truly? Was too drunk to talk, and my neighbour and I got a taxi home.
Certainly everyone was drunk; but I thought about it today – in between bouts of cradling my sore head and wailing like a banshee somewhere on the autistic spectrum - and I realised I was essentially behaving like a straight bloke; I got drunk, danced like a prat, had a fracas with a guy hassling a lady at the bar, and didn’t 'go home' with a man. And I feel very disappointed in myself; that somehow I’ve let myself down.
Of course, I’m still learning the ropes at it were and in many respects all the experiences I’ve had over the last 6 months have been wonderful, or at least worthwhile. But I don’t like being made to feel (even by myself) that I am nowhere – or, more accurately, reminded that I’m not the tall thin good looking fashion and scene savvy gay guy OR part of a rock solid relationship. Is there perhaps some kind of course for the ill-adored and self-deluding that I am unaware of? Course as in study or medicine, I'm not fussed.
Then of course I feel selfish and stupid because other people overcome genuine adversity and I’ve never had a really tough time in my whole life. But sometimes it is really difficult to realise I’ve wasted so much time and the flip side of all the joyous highs I’ve had is that sometimes I get very down – desperately sad.
Still, I don’t suppose crying myself into a dessicated husk is going to help. I think it is nearly time to make up my mind about exactly what I want; apart from going back in time to me at 18, and smacking myself in the back of the head of course. Do I want to be one half of a loving couple or do I want to play around? I think I know the answer; I know I can't really do both.
What I want right now is for Gareth to be here and give me cuddles and tell me again that I’m cute.
Oh well, I’ll be resolute again tomorrow. In the meantime any man fitter and better looking than me can piss off.
Except Gareth.
PS: t'aint work safe
Last night I went out for a neighbour’s birthday. He is gay too as were virtually all of the people that were also out celebrating. On the one hand there was a really nice couple who were the loveliest people and really into each other; and on the other was a very tall, thin good looking guy who was bang up to date with fashion, knew how to accessorise perfectly, and looked a lot younger than he was. Making me a jealous bitch twice over.
After dancing the night away the lovely couple went home to be adoring and adorable at home; the good looking guy went home with a lot of other good looking guys and yours truly? Was too drunk to talk, and my neighbour and I got a taxi home.
Certainly everyone was drunk; but I thought about it today – in between bouts of cradling my sore head and wailing like a banshee somewhere on the autistic spectrum - and I realised I was essentially behaving like a straight bloke; I got drunk, danced like a prat, had a fracas with a guy hassling a lady at the bar, and didn’t 'go home' with a man. And I feel very disappointed in myself; that somehow I’ve let myself down.
Of course, I’m still learning the ropes at it were and in many respects all the experiences I’ve had over the last 6 months have been wonderful, or at least worthwhile. But I don’t like being made to feel (even by myself) that I am nowhere – or, more accurately, reminded that I’m not the tall thin good looking fashion and scene savvy gay guy OR part of a rock solid relationship. Is there perhaps some kind of course for the ill-adored and self-deluding that I am unaware of? Course as in study or medicine, I'm not fussed.
Then of course I feel selfish and stupid because other people overcome genuine adversity and I’ve never had a really tough time in my whole life. But sometimes it is really difficult to realise I’ve wasted so much time and the flip side of all the joyous highs I’ve had is that sometimes I get very down – desperately sad.
Still, I don’t suppose crying myself into a dessicated husk is going to help. I think it is nearly time to make up my mind about exactly what I want; apart from going back in time to me at 18, and smacking myself in the back of the head of course. Do I want to be one half of a loving couple or do I want to play around? I think I know the answer; I know I can't really do both.
What I want right now is for Gareth to be here and give me cuddles and tell me again that I’m cute.
Oh well, I’ll be resolute again tomorrow. In the meantime any man fitter and better looking than me can piss off.
Except Gareth.
PS: t'aint work safe
Friday 15 August 2008
The Oi Oi and I
I’m feeling slightly under the weather today as last night I had a few drinks on Das Boot with soon to be erstwhile colleagues, and ended up staying out rather later than I thought and getting a bit boozed up on beer. Consequently one of the things I did last night (well, early this morning if we’re to be technical) was send Gareth a text – nothing salacious, but saying in a syntactically uninhibited manner that I do him miss. Apparently my inebriated state amused him hugely, though I should think repeat performances shall become tiresome somewhat speedily. It is fortunate, then, that he is going away this weekend for yet another wedding so I can go out and get mashed tomorrow at a neighbour’s birthday party on the much-frequented South Bank. I’ve invited the friend who counselled me previously to come along – partly because he’s suddenly hit a rough patch with his fella and I am worried he’s retreating into his shell a little.
Due to all my texts and emails to Gareth I have resolved to give the poor guy a couple of days from my cloying attentions. Hopefully his heart will be all the more fond of me for the absence. Gosh, I like him ever so – I found myself walking home today and I remembered either he or Nick had said I have a nice smile (I don’t think I do due to a rather cruel young man when I was a teenager telling me my smile was ugly. Scarred for life, I was gentle reader!) And, as I couldn’t remember exactly which one flattered me that way, I found myself hoping it was Gareth. And I realised that I would never be able to keep more than one guy on the go if I was thinking that way! For someone who’s never been in love I surely get infatuated very easily. Ho-hum – I accept that about myself now. But with Gareth it is true I am tied to the stake at the thought of him much more than I have been with others.
I rang my mother to thank her for her birthday gift (of gardening books) and it turned out my uncle was visiting with, his children – two boys with fantastic names; Jan-Henning and Zönke – and it seems my other cousin had also been visiting with her new husband and only slightly newer baby – and my mother is then off to visit her parents (my wonderful grandparents who, to my delight, can drink me under the table and flatly refuse to 'check out') and… I felt a bit lonely when hearing all the news, across the sea and far away. Still am not complaining; I’ve been out so much recently my liver has drafted its own emancipation declaration.
New job, new man, the next delivery from my wine club, and my roses are coming up... roses. It’s all too good to be true. Where will Lady Luck put her fickle finger next?
Due to all my texts and emails to Gareth I have resolved to give the poor guy a couple of days from my cloying attentions. Hopefully his heart will be all the more fond of me for the absence. Gosh, I like him ever so – I found myself walking home today and I remembered either he or Nick had said I have a nice smile (I don’t think I do due to a rather cruel young man when I was a teenager telling me my smile was ugly. Scarred for life, I was gentle reader!) And, as I couldn’t remember exactly which one flattered me that way, I found myself hoping it was Gareth. And I realised that I would never be able to keep more than one guy on the go if I was thinking that way! For someone who’s never been in love I surely get infatuated very easily. Ho-hum – I accept that about myself now. But with Gareth it is true I am tied to the stake at the thought of him much more than I have been with others.
I rang my mother to thank her for her birthday gift (of gardening books) and it turned out my uncle was visiting with, his children – two boys with fantastic names; Jan-Henning and Zönke – and it seems my other cousin had also been visiting with her new husband and only slightly newer baby – and my mother is then off to visit her parents (my wonderful grandparents who, to my delight, can drink me under the table and flatly refuse to 'check out') and… I felt a bit lonely when hearing all the news, across the sea and far away. Still am not complaining; I’ve been out so much recently my liver has drafted its own emancipation declaration.
New job, new man, the next delivery from my wine club, and my roses are coming up... roses. It’s all too good to be true. Where will Lady Luck put her fickle finger next?
Wednesday 13 August 2008
Good girl
I’m a good girl I am. Yes I AM. Don’t look at me like that … the judgement shines from your eyes…
Tonight I had a few drinks with a medico-legal adviser from another NHS body that (as per it seems these days!) I met through OUT. We went to the Royal Festival Hall and ended up in the midst of a crowd going to see Wizard of Oz: The Musical, which was a bit of an eye opener. My: us gayers like a show though! But anyway, my drinks date was pleasant enough; a nice man in his early forties who has done well enough to enjoy a fine view from the Barbican. He’s one of twins which, if I may share a secret gentle reader, is something of interest… but not for here (…yet? I can hear friends going ‘Ew’ even now!). We had a good laugh and went our separate ways reasonably early; but I think we will meet again if only as friends as we share a strong interest in classical music and he’s got some great stories of the 80s scene!!
To my surprise and delight Gareth called me and, after excusing myself and heading off to the merchandise stall, we talked at some length – so much so I blundered into enough merchandise at the shop that I was in fact not a Friend of Dorothy tonight. We talked about various things, but mostly us and that, and although we aren’t able to see each other this week/end we will it seems meet again next and have dinner… play scrabble… well, pass the time somehow!
It does in some small way seem to me, gentle reader, that I may have made the Right Decision – it may be argued quite plausibly I have done so for the first time in my life. As for Nick it seems he cuts quite the swath through the local population and certainly my attempts at communication appear to have met with a post-facto disinterest that might, overall, just be the best thing for everyone. Bless ’im!
Secretly I do believe Gareth will finish with me quite soon but I don’t seem to have the angst aspect that was so present during my last, disastrous, attempt to scale the north face of Mr Right; when he says we’ll go out or do such and such I trust him, and trust we’ll see what happens; yes/no?
So anyway a brief, bijou postette to keep you dans le loop as it were!
Tonight I had a few drinks with a medico-legal adviser from another NHS body that (as per it seems these days!) I met through OUT. We went to the Royal Festival Hall and ended up in the midst of a crowd going to see Wizard of Oz: The Musical, which was a bit of an eye opener. My: us gayers like a show though! But anyway, my drinks date was pleasant enough; a nice man in his early forties who has done well enough to enjoy a fine view from the Barbican. He’s one of twins which, if I may share a secret gentle reader, is something of interest… but not for here (…yet? I can hear friends going ‘Ew’ even now!). We had a good laugh and went our separate ways reasonably early; but I think we will meet again if only as friends as we share a strong interest in classical music and he’s got some great stories of the 80s scene!!
To my surprise and delight Gareth called me and, after excusing myself and heading off to the merchandise stall, we talked at some length – so much so I blundered into enough merchandise at the shop that I was in fact not a Friend of Dorothy tonight. We talked about various things, but mostly us and that, and although we aren’t able to see each other this week/end we will it seems meet again next and have dinner… play scrabble… well, pass the time somehow!
It does in some small way seem to me, gentle reader, that I may have made the Right Decision – it may be argued quite plausibly I have done so for the first time in my life. As for Nick it seems he cuts quite the swath through the local population and certainly my attempts at communication appear to have met with a post-facto disinterest that might, overall, just be the best thing for everyone. Bless ’im!
Secretly I do believe Gareth will finish with me quite soon but I don’t seem to have the angst aspect that was so present during my last, disastrous, attempt to scale the north face of Mr Right; when he says we’ll go out or do such and such I trust him, and trust we’ll see what happens; yes/no?
So anyway a brief, bijou postette to keep you dans le loop as it were!
Monday 11 August 2008
Good advice
It is time, gentle reader, to tell you about Nick.
I dislike drama and complexity in personal affairs; this I think comes from my family for whom discord was bread and strife butter. It also is one of the reasons – a minor one though – that I delayed coming out for so long. Because, Lord knows, being a gayer can be quite complex. For example:
Nick is a neighbour of mine – that is, he lives in the same apartment complex – and yet another man whom I met through OUT. We’ve known each other for a wee while now and he’s always made clear how much he Likes me, though nothing had happened. Until now that is...
Nick and I had a long boozy lunch in my flat on Sunday; we get on famously as we have similar personalities and share the same sense of humour. So after dinner we were going to sojourn to the sofa for more wine when my neighbour (quite unexpectedly) plants one on me. Because I’d had a lot to drink, and because I’m weak willed and stupid, I responded. And there was a lot of kissing on the sofa and one thing led to another and…
Afterward we watched a film together and talked and we’re going to have dinner again today and talk some more; and I plan to tell him about Gareth then too. I have to say that Sunday was really quite romantic – the way he seized the moment, the way we lay in bed talking for hours. He knows how to turn a boy's head and no mistake!
This is now a really tough situation for me because I still don’t have the smarts or emotional maturity to deal with it but the absolute last thing I want to do is hurt someone and I dimly perceive the risk of that here. So I’m not really sure what to do.
I’m not going to argue that there’s some way of having my cake and eating it; and I’m not naïve enough to think I can have two guys on the go at once. But I am still surprised when someone ‘likes’ me so find it really difficult to say no. After all, what if no-one ever likes me again? However much I like Gareth - and I really do - he insists that we’re not boyfriends and we’re still getting to know each other. But then I can hardly cling to something I was unhappy about as a get out of jail free card purely because it suits me now. On the other hand Nick really is just as nice as Gareth in many ways and on balance there is little to distinguish between them in the totty-stakes.
There was I trying hard to avoid comparisons with Mark; talk about frying pan/fire. But therein lies the rub gentle reader; I am going to have to choose. And stand by that choice. Be A Man Dammit!
This is an area where my new found ‘gay’ friendships have come to the fore; one friend in particular whom I contacted to seek his views has given me some good advice (if anyone else has any please feel free!) and our conversation went something like this:
Friend: You are terrible Muriel. At least you have two guys liking you. Before my boyfriend I was single for 5 years with no interest! Just don’t let them find out about each other!!
Mike: Yes I guess I'm very lucky though I bet you had some interest - you're too good looking not to! I guess I'm too used to guys going off me quickly to have thought about having two fellas. I do like Gareth but then I've just... oh, too much confusion!
F: Well do what your heart says is right... but don’t lead anyone on - if neither of them is expecting anything and you haven’t promised anything, well, you aren’t doing anything technically wrong.
M: This is the thing - I'm used to interest from guys being very short term and the last thing I want to do is hurt anyone; there is the potential for hurt feelings and a strong chance I end up with no-one!
F: I think maybe you have to give Gareth a time frame and by then decide if you want to commit. My only concern is that if Gareth was really special, you wouldn’t involve yourself with anyone else. I appreciate you're flattered by the attention... but that might be something to think about?
M: It's funny because already I think Gareth is special and today's shenanigans haven't changed that. Hmmm.
F: Well if Gareth is on your mind… I think only you can decide what to do... but you might have a 'talk' with him before too long if you want him for keeps...
M: I think you're right - I should have a talk with him. Time to see where things are going! You're a wise man :-)
F: I wouldn’t say wise! I think, as horny as you are... maybe you need a man detox for a bit. Stick with Gareth and if you find you are good being with just him then stick with it. If not... spread your legs and get on with it till someone chases you and pins you down and says they want you to be theirs.
Memo to self: you are a dirty little cat.
I dislike drama and complexity in personal affairs; this I think comes from my family for whom discord was bread and strife butter. It also is one of the reasons – a minor one though – that I delayed coming out for so long. Because, Lord knows, being a gayer can be quite complex. For example:
Nick is a neighbour of mine – that is, he lives in the same apartment complex – and yet another man whom I met through OUT. We’ve known each other for a wee while now and he’s always made clear how much he Likes me, though nothing had happened. Until now that is...
Nick and I had a long boozy lunch in my flat on Sunday; we get on famously as we have similar personalities and share the same sense of humour. So after dinner we were going to sojourn to the sofa for more wine when my neighbour (quite unexpectedly) plants one on me. Because I’d had a lot to drink, and because I’m weak willed and stupid, I responded. And there was a lot of kissing on the sofa and one thing led to another and…
Afterward we watched a film together and talked and we’re going to have dinner again today and talk some more; and I plan to tell him about Gareth then too. I have to say that Sunday was really quite romantic – the way he seized the moment, the way we lay in bed talking for hours. He knows how to turn a boy's head and no mistake!
This is now a really tough situation for me because I still don’t have the smarts or emotional maturity to deal with it but the absolute last thing I want to do is hurt someone and I dimly perceive the risk of that here. So I’m not really sure what to do.
I’m not going to argue that there’s some way of having my cake and eating it; and I’m not naïve enough to think I can have two guys on the go at once. But I am still surprised when someone ‘likes’ me so find it really difficult to say no. After all, what if no-one ever likes me again? However much I like Gareth - and I really do - he insists that we’re not boyfriends and we’re still getting to know each other. But then I can hardly cling to something I was unhappy about as a get out of jail free card purely because it suits me now. On the other hand Nick really is just as nice as Gareth in many ways and on balance there is little to distinguish between them in the totty-stakes.
There was I trying hard to avoid comparisons with Mark; talk about frying pan/fire. But therein lies the rub gentle reader; I am going to have to choose. And stand by that choice. Be A Man Dammit!
This is an area where my new found ‘gay’ friendships have come to the fore; one friend in particular whom I contacted to seek his views has given me some good advice (if anyone else has any please feel free!) and our conversation went something like this:
Friend: You are terrible Muriel. At least you have two guys liking you. Before my boyfriend I was single for 5 years with no interest! Just don’t let them find out about each other!!
Mike: Yes I guess I'm very lucky though I bet you had some interest - you're too good looking not to! I guess I'm too used to guys going off me quickly to have thought about having two fellas. I do like Gareth but then I've just... oh, too much confusion!
F: Well do what your heart says is right... but don’t lead anyone on - if neither of them is expecting anything and you haven’t promised anything, well, you aren’t doing anything technically wrong.
M: This is the thing - I'm used to interest from guys being very short term and the last thing I want to do is hurt anyone; there is the potential for hurt feelings and a strong chance I end up with no-one!
F: I think maybe you have to give Gareth a time frame and by then decide if you want to commit. My only concern is that if Gareth was really special, you wouldn’t involve yourself with anyone else. I appreciate you're flattered by the attention... but that might be something to think about?
M: It's funny because already I think Gareth is special and today's shenanigans haven't changed that. Hmmm.
F: Well if Gareth is on your mind… I think only you can decide what to do... but you might have a 'talk' with him before too long if you want him for keeps...
M: I think you're right - I should have a talk with him. Time to see where things are going! You're a wise man :-)
F: I wouldn’t say wise! I think, as horny as you are... maybe you need a man detox for a bit. Stick with Gareth and if you find you are good being with just him then stick with it. If not... spread your legs and get on with it till someone chases you and pins you down and says they want you to be theirs.
Memo to self: you are a dirty little cat.
Friday 8 August 2008
A yummy post
Hello, gentle reader! It’s me – Mr Happy Fun Guy!!
I met Gareth on Thursday as arranged and after tonnes of inane chatter of this and that I said we should go and have dinner as a birthday treat for yours truly. Gareth rather kindly suggested we go back to his place for said meal and a film. Yippee!! That WAS the answer on the card…
Whilst at the bar our talk wasn’t all idle though; Gareth and I discussed ‘us’ and how much he wants to ‘get to know each other’ before we even go as far as using the ‘B’ word. He was somewhat dismissive of my assertion that I am baggage free (or as near as spit) so there we go; I made clear I saw no reason to wait and instead let us be swept wherever our emotions might take us. Because that usually works out great for me… but anyway:
this time, a week to the day since last we headed back to his, it was public transport all the way – I technically fare-dodged on the train (my travelcard doesn’t cover the route to his place) but we made such a winsome couple at the other end the fare-collectors let us off. Gareth bumped into a friend at his local station and - I thought this was rather sweet - deliberately ensured we had a nice session of tonsil-hockey in full view of her in order to, as he put it, start some gossip about how he’s with this gorgeous guy [aka ME!!]. From there it was a short hop on the bus (where I was under strict instructions to behave) to Chez G.
A full range of antics then ensued which were punctuated by a Chinese takeaway and The Birdcage – a film that was the absolute right choice.
Right now there is barely a single thing I don’t like about Gareth. Great guy, great flat… holds hands with me everywhere, kisses in public (as kissing is my biggest turn on it really does get him an enormous number of points – and with Mike points win prizes), snuggles up to me in bed, and when watching a film. He even has nice feet! Best of all, however, was his insistance that we had not broken the no sex rule as we were in fact making love…
The view from his flat is really quite something; though as close to the centre of the city as I am you can barely see another building from his balcony. Of course I was busy admiring other things… but I did catch myself getting rather comfortable there to the point I thought nothing of whipping up breakfast and bringing him coffee while he bathed.
This morning he flew out to Ireland (after a lecture from me on what might be considered treasonable activities whilst over there) for a friend’s wedding and I came home to, finally, the unconditional offer of my next job. All I need to do is confirm my start date and hand in my notice at the current workplace and it is done! But before that I need to message Gareth, get some sleep, and I seem to have dislocated a hip somewhere along the way…
Best Birthday Ever.
I met Gareth on Thursday as arranged and after tonnes of inane chatter of this and that I said we should go and have dinner as a birthday treat for yours truly. Gareth rather kindly suggested we go back to his place for said meal and a film. Yippee!! That WAS the answer on the card…
Whilst at the bar our talk wasn’t all idle though; Gareth and I discussed ‘us’ and how much he wants to ‘get to know each other’ before we even go as far as using the ‘B’ word. He was somewhat dismissive of my assertion that I am baggage free (or as near as spit) so there we go; I made clear I saw no reason to wait and instead let us be swept wherever our emotions might take us. Because that usually works out great for me… but anyway:
this time, a week to the day since last we headed back to his, it was public transport all the way – I technically fare-dodged on the train (my travelcard doesn’t cover the route to his place) but we made such a winsome couple at the other end the fare-collectors let us off. Gareth bumped into a friend at his local station and - I thought this was rather sweet - deliberately ensured we had a nice session of tonsil-hockey in full view of her in order to, as he put it, start some gossip about how he’s with this gorgeous guy [aka ME!!]. From there it was a short hop on the bus (where I was under strict instructions to behave) to Chez G.
A full range of antics then ensued which were punctuated by a Chinese takeaway and The Birdcage – a film that was the absolute right choice.
Right now there is barely a single thing I don’t like about Gareth. Great guy, great flat… holds hands with me everywhere, kisses in public (as kissing is my biggest turn on it really does get him an enormous number of points – and with Mike points win prizes), snuggles up to me in bed, and when watching a film. He even has nice feet! Best of all, however, was his insistance that we had not broken the no sex rule as we were in fact making love…
The view from his flat is really quite something; though as close to the centre of the city as I am you can barely see another building from his balcony. Of course I was busy admiring other things… but I did catch myself getting rather comfortable there to the point I thought nothing of whipping up breakfast and bringing him coffee while he bathed.
This morning he flew out to Ireland (after a lecture from me on what might be considered treasonable activities whilst over there) for a friend’s wedding and I came home to, finally, the unconditional offer of my next job. All I need to do is confirm my start date and hand in my notice at the current workplace and it is done! But before that I need to message Gareth, get some sleep, and I seem to have dislocated a hip somewhere along the way…Best Birthday Ever.
An awkward post
As this does deal with physical matters rather more than usual so anyone who doesn’t want to know some – well, a lot - of the more intimate details about yours truly, look away now… but if you would like to, please click the link to read more.
Well, here goes…
I like to think of myself as a versatile chap. When I was younger I tended to take a more passive role but with time and especially since coming out I have become more active. With the guys I’ve been in, at whatever level, a relationship with I have tended to take on one ‘role’ more than others. With Darren and John Q Pigdog I was more passive, but with Harry and Mark I was more active.
I enjoy virtually every aspect of having sex with a man, whether ‘top’ or ‘bottom’; and frankly straight men don’t know what they’re missing. And I fear I am what is known as – this is where my blushes begin – a size queen, and I genuinely prefer anal sex to any other form. But one of the things that I have found with my bed-hopping episodes (and this is double plus blush time because I hate guys who go on about this kind of thing) is that, being (I’m told) somewhat gifted myself, occasionally I have met guys who have politely declined the full range of bedroom antics, or given up after a valiant attempt. It’s mainly OK though, as while sex is to me a hugely important part of being with someone I am happiest when my partner, however casual, has enjoyed themselves to the full and reciprocation isn’t always key.
Anyway, the point of this post is not to boast, but to ‘think out loud’ about this problem now that it has occurred with Gareth. Gareth and I spent Thursday night together after meeting as arranged. It seems I wore him down! But I’ll discuss that in the next post. In the meantime, although we still had a great time, it seems this is an area where some careful planning will have to be done. Of course there are options in terms of position, foreplay, more appropriate lube… in theory there could be poppers but I hate them and have never allowed them to be part of my sex-life before.
I am keen to build a relationship with him and this is another aspect we’ll have to work on I suppose. Certainly Gareth has proven himself to be a versatile guy, and because I put sex quite at the centre of a relationship (amongst other things) I hope it won’t be a major stumbling block.
End.
Well, here goes…
I like to think of myself as a versatile chap. When I was younger I tended to take a more passive role but with time and especially since coming out I have become more active. With the guys I’ve been in, at whatever level, a relationship with I have tended to take on one ‘role’ more than others. With Darren and John Q Pigdog I was more passive, but with Harry and Mark I was more active.
I enjoy virtually every aspect of having sex with a man, whether ‘top’ or ‘bottom’; and frankly straight men don’t know what they’re missing. And I fear I am what is known as – this is where my blushes begin – a size queen, and I genuinely prefer anal sex to any other form. But one of the things that I have found with my bed-hopping episodes (and this is double plus blush time because I hate guys who go on about this kind of thing) is that, being (I’m told) somewhat gifted myself, occasionally I have met guys who have politely declined the full range of bedroom antics, or given up after a valiant attempt. It’s mainly OK though, as while sex is to me a hugely important part of being with someone I am happiest when my partner, however casual, has enjoyed themselves to the full and reciprocation isn’t always key.
Anyway, the point of this post is not to boast, but to ‘think out loud’ about this problem now that it has occurred with Gareth. Gareth and I spent Thursday night together after meeting as arranged. It seems I wore him down! But I’ll discuss that in the next post. In the meantime, although we still had a great time, it seems this is an area where some careful planning will have to be done. Of course there are options in terms of position, foreplay, more appropriate lube… in theory there could be poppers but I hate them and have never allowed them to be part of my sex-life before.
I am keen to build a relationship with him and this is another aspect we’ll have to work on I suppose. Certainly Gareth has proven himself to be a versatile guy, and because I put sex quite at the centre of a relationship (amongst other things) I hope it won’t be a major stumbling block.
End.
Tuesday 5 August 2008
Suggested Donation
I do sometimes wish clients would pay their fees more readily; when on a dating frenzy being assured of one’s income can take on a surpassing importance. Indeed, today I was speculating that one of the things about cruising, when one has access to transport, and particularly if done from the comfort of one’s own home, is that it is relatively cheap. No dinner, no drinks, no need for a versatile wardrobe; of course we must procure the rubber gloves so important when one is keen to shake hands frequently – but hardly a major expense. Yet with dating one must not only be liberal with the mullah, one must be seen to be liberal.
Gareth it seems missed his flight to Ireland and is now travelling on Friday – but the Emerald Isle’s loss is your Brown Eyed Boy’s gain gentle reader. On the ‘down side’ I have a date and we’re meeting on Wednesday, at the South Bank, at precisely the same time as Gareth is due to be there meeting his friends. But, this date is now reclassified as New Friend Type, rather than of the oft-repeated Next Ex Class, so I told Gareth when we spoke today that I would be around. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other. I suppose that might be a bit awkward – but the grist to the Daliesque mill of my logic is simply that I’m more likely this way to get what I want (whatever that is); what a good friend of mine calls a Peggy Compromise.
Anyway, I’m meeting Gareth again on Thursday at the very club where it all began (Barcode, Vauxhall)… let us hope this ‘no sex please, we’re British’ silliness might be overcome with relative speed – after all he’s flying out the next day (pm) and Friday happens to be my birthday (18 again for a record 13th year in a row; I am in fact the Mousetrap of eternal youth…) so who knows? As a loyal subject of Her Majesty ;o) I shall thoroughly disapprove should he attend to his own needs in a republic [blech]. Being of a mathematical bent I calculated I have been double-plus naughty with 46% of all the men I’ve *ahem* dated, so I ask: why is boyfriend territory such a desert? As has been described to me; whilst we construct great banquets in our mind we make do with egg and chips more readily than we realise. Ah well. I’ll be practising my come-hither eyelash fluttering look-I-have-an-ass-that-just-won’t-quit routine in the mirror just as soon as I’ve published this.
What I’m quite keen on with Gareth, for future dates, is more of the quiet night in scenario –stupid no sex rule poop – but I think persuading him that I’m quite happy to cook dinner and snuggle up in front of a DVD without a salute to my flagpole being expected is going to be difficult. On the plus side I have received some money from a client just today, so that will cover this week’s dates. And… erm… next week’s too - but I’ll blog about those in due course.
Memo to self: Wash ass-that-just-won’t-quit jeans
Gareth it seems missed his flight to Ireland and is now travelling on Friday – but the Emerald Isle’s loss is your Brown Eyed Boy’s gain gentle reader. On the ‘down side’ I have a date and we’re meeting on Wednesday, at the South Bank, at precisely the same time as Gareth is due to be there meeting his friends. But, this date is now reclassified as New Friend Type, rather than of the oft-repeated Next Ex Class, so I told Gareth when we spoke today that I would be around. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other. I suppose that might be a bit awkward – but the grist to the Daliesque mill of my logic is simply that I’m more likely this way to get what I want (whatever that is); what a good friend of mine calls a Peggy Compromise.
Anyway, I’m meeting Gareth again on Thursday at the very club where it all began (Barcode, Vauxhall)… let us hope this ‘no sex please, we’re British’ silliness might be overcome with relative speed – after all he’s flying out the next day (pm) and Friday happens to be my birthday (18 again for a record 13th year in a row; I am in fact the Mousetrap of eternal youth…) so who knows? As a loyal subject of Her Majesty ;o) I shall thoroughly disapprove should he attend to his own needs in a republic [blech]. Being of a mathematical bent I calculated I have been double-plus naughty with 46% of all the men I’ve *ahem* dated, so I ask: why is boyfriend territory such a desert? As has been described to me; whilst we construct great banquets in our mind we make do with egg and chips more readily than we realise. Ah well. I’ll be practising my come-hither eyelash fluttering look-I-have-an-ass-that-just-won’t-quit routine in the mirror just as soon as I’ve published this.
What I’m quite keen on with Gareth, for future dates, is more of the quiet night in scenario –stupid no sex rule poop – but I think persuading him that I’m quite happy to cook dinner and snuggle up in front of a DVD without a salute to my flagpole being expected is going to be difficult. On the plus side I have received some money from a client just today, so that will cover this week’s dates. And… erm… next week’s too - but I’ll blog about those in due course.
Memo to self: Wash ass-that-just-won’t-quit jeans
Sunday 3 August 2008
Datesville
Saturday night was yet another date night – Date 4 to be precise. We met for a drink at the International, then had a bight to eat at Kulu Kulu (introduced to me by a neighbour who coincidentally is the only woman to have seen my gaydar profile) and then went onto the Revolution Bar just of Leicester Square. Last time I went there I was rudely awoken the next day by a rather panic stricken call from my credit card company that somewhat hysterically demanded to know if I really had spent £XXX on libations. As in all honesty I couldn’t recall we could only presume that I had.
Well, what can I say – Date 4 was just double-plus eye candy; as soon as we met at St Martin’s I thought ‘phwooar’. Sadly though my come-hither signals did not get much of a response – but no matter; you win some, you lose some! He is a nice enough chap and as we met through OUT we will no doubt keep in touch in some way. As it was Brighton Pride that day Soho was eerily deserted; and almost everyone there was straight. It was a bit weird. Like a breeder’s Danse Macabre.
Speaking of keeping in touch an old date of mine from what now seems like the dawn of time – ‘M’ – messaged me out of the blue, which was rather a nice surprise. I remember him mainly because he gave me a CD he made of great songs – a nice blend of Kylie, ABBA, Patsy Gallant and others. He was really just saying hello but it was good to hear from him and I replied so who knows? A new old friend? I hope so.
Best of all, though, Sunday was a second date with Date 3 (Gareth to you and me); and he and I went to the Tokyo Diner, just off Charing Cross Road, for lunch. Japanese food two days in a row; a symptom of the great fondness I have developed for Gareth in a short time! Afterward we went for a coffee and held hands (I love the fact he likes to hold my hand everywhere) and talked about what would happen next. We had a very open discussion during which we set out our (broadly similar) sexual, relationship and chemical histories. It seems we really like each other and having failed to put each other off we’ve decided to keep dating for a while to get to know each other better.
But here’s the thing, gentle reader – no sex. Not for a little while yet I’m afraid. Gareth wants to be chaste and proper and essentially avoid sex getting in the way. Does it make sense? Yes. Is yours truly happy with it? No!! But then we’re not saying never; just 'in its own time'. Which we’d be doing anyway I suppose without Thursday’s shenanigans. Plus he’s going to Ireland for a week but has promised to keep in touch while he’s away.
I did toy briefly with the idea of seeing other guys for the purposes of… but, that clearly is outside the spirit of our pact so there you have it. I still have a couple of dates arranged from before I met Mr Propriety that I intend to keep, but for the moment it seems like Gareth is a keeper. Coo!
Memo to self: buy porn
Well, what can I say – Date 4 was just double-plus eye candy; as soon as we met at St Martin’s I thought ‘phwooar’. Sadly though my come-hither signals did not get much of a response – but no matter; you win some, you lose some! He is a nice enough chap and as we met through OUT we will no doubt keep in touch in some way. As it was Brighton Pride that day Soho was eerily deserted; and almost everyone there was straight. It was a bit weird. Like a breeder’s Danse Macabre.
Speaking of keeping in touch an old date of mine from what now seems like the dawn of time – ‘M’ – messaged me out of the blue, which was rather a nice surprise. I remember him mainly because he gave me a CD he made of great songs – a nice blend of Kylie, ABBA, Patsy Gallant and others. He was really just saying hello but it was good to hear from him and I replied so who knows? A new old friend? I hope so.
Best of all, though, Sunday was a second date with Date 3 (Gareth to you and me); and he and I went to the Tokyo Diner, just off Charing Cross Road, for lunch. Japanese food two days in a row; a symptom of the great fondness I have developed for Gareth in a short time! Afterward we went for a coffee and held hands (I love the fact he likes to hold my hand everywhere) and talked about what would happen next. We had a very open discussion during which we set out our (broadly similar) sexual, relationship and chemical histories. It seems we really like each other and having failed to put each other off we’ve decided to keep dating for a while to get to know each other better.
But here’s the thing, gentle reader – no sex. Not for a little while yet I’m afraid. Gareth wants to be chaste and proper and essentially avoid sex getting in the way. Does it make sense? Yes. Is yours truly happy with it? No!! But then we’re not saying never; just 'in its own time'. Which we’d be doing anyway I suppose without Thursday’s shenanigans. Plus he’s going to Ireland for a week but has promised to keep in touch while he’s away.
I did toy briefly with the idea of seeing other guys for the purposes of… but, that clearly is outside the spirit of our pact so there you have it. I still have a couple of dates arranged from before I met Mr Propriety that I intend to keep, but for the moment it seems like Gareth is a keeper. Coo!
Memo to self: buy porn
Friday 1 August 2008
Rule 2
I had a Date 3 last night and ended up plumping squarely for Rule 2. We will recall that Rule 1 is ‘no sex on a first date’; Rule 2 is ‘terms and conditions apply to Rule 1’.
Date 2, Wednesday’s fella, was very nice and outgoing but wasn’t really my type and actually did nothing but talk and talk and talk about anything and everything all the time we were together. He seems like someone who would be fun to know as a friend, but no more.
Thursday’s panting love slave, however, was a guy I met via the Guardian Soulmates dating service, and we met at 5pm at Das Boot. Unfortunately I had been in an all day meeting writing by committee one of my occasional reports, and therefore was not at my best in any event – compounded by the fact that I got caught in the rain walking down to meet my date - so when he did arrive I was pretty sure he would not enjoy the sight that was to greet him. Yet he managed to control himself long enough to get a drink and try to get to know me, and sure enough one drink became two… three… four and unaccountably our inhibitions simply melted away.
After muches-smooches on the poop deck we decided to head into Vauxhall and find a more ‘friendly’ venue. What I particularly enjoyed was how unafraid he was to kiss me in public, hold my hand as we walked down the road and generally make public displays of affection which I so enjoy but have found rarely forthcoming in others.
And in the club we went to there was more of the same until, though we had earlier promised each other quite sincerely there was to be no putting out that night, we got a taxi back to his and, after having put on quite a show for the driver, jumped into bed.
And there was much rejoicing.
Another thing I really liked was the long snugly morning in bed where we lay in each other’s arms and cuddled and kissed and snoozed until it was time for me to go to work. Not standard one-night-stand/casual assignation behaviour...
Of course I’d love to see him again, and to that end we have made tentative plans to see each other on Sunday. I’m ‘wise’ enough now to realise that in the cold, harsh, sober light of day he may decide otherwise – but in the meantime I’m endearingly well rodgered and in a very good mood indeed.
Date 4 tomorrow. What will happen with him?
Date 2, Wednesday’s fella, was very nice and outgoing but wasn’t really my type and actually did nothing but talk and talk and talk about anything and everything all the time we were together. He seems like someone who would be fun to know as a friend, but no more.
Thursday’s panting love slave, however, was a guy I met via the Guardian Soulmates dating service, and we met at 5pm at Das Boot. Unfortunately I had been in an all day meeting writing by committee one of my occasional reports, and therefore was not at my best in any event – compounded by the fact that I got caught in the rain walking down to meet my date - so when he did arrive I was pretty sure he would not enjoy the sight that was to greet him. Yet he managed to control himself long enough to get a drink and try to get to know me, and sure enough one drink became two… three… four and unaccountably our inhibitions simply melted away.
After muches-smooches on the poop deck we decided to head into Vauxhall and find a more ‘friendly’ venue. What I particularly enjoyed was how unafraid he was to kiss me in public, hold my hand as we walked down the road and generally make public displays of affection which I so enjoy but have found rarely forthcoming in others.
And in the club we went to there was more of the same until, though we had earlier promised each other quite sincerely there was to be no putting out that night, we got a taxi back to his and, after having put on quite a show for the driver, jumped into bed.
And there was much rejoicing.
Another thing I really liked was the long snugly morning in bed where we lay in each other’s arms and cuddled and kissed and snoozed until it was time for me to go to work. Not standard one-night-stand/casual assignation behaviour...
Of course I’d love to see him again, and to that end we have made tentative plans to see each other on Sunday. I’m ‘wise’ enough now to realise that in the cold, harsh, sober light of day he may decide otherwise – but in the meantime I’m endearingly well rodgered and in a very good mood indeed.
Date 4 tomorrow. What will happen with him?
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