Tuesday, 29 September 2009


I had a pretty miserable night last night because Fella ignored my calls and emails both last night and today. I arranged first thing in the morning for some flowers to be delivered to him at his office; by way of an apology for making things difficult and checking that he was at least still alive.

He thanked me for the flowers. That’s a start at least.

I have a boyfriend who loves me and whom I love. That much at least is clear, whether or not we can still be together. But, and this gentle reader is the crucial part; he is what I think of as a ‘fair weather’ boyfriend. That may seem harsh, and I don’t want to appear to be insulting or abusing him when I post this. No, what I mean is he likes only the good times and simply isn’t interested when things are tough.

I know why – partly – and suspect why for the rest. His family of high achievers have, sadly (and this makes me very, very angry), quite a low opinion of my guy. I’ve always been impressed by his work ethic and intelligence but they seem not to see it. He gets enough hassle from them. I’m a bit of an escape. Also, I think his ex hurt him pretty badly. He won’t talk about it and I don’t push it. Not so much my business; but perhaps that will come out in time. He doesn’t want to go through that again. That’s understandable.

Nevertheless it is difficult to be allowed only a discrete range of emotions; how can we have the relationship I think we can have under those circumstances? I appealed to friends ‘F’ and ‘A’ today when I was at my nadir. They both gave me some good reassurance. ‘A’ made some pertinent points around communication being a two way street. I think Fella sure bet on the wrong horse if he feels I’m able to deal with that kind of thing forever!

So here I am, thinking hard and feeling a little foolish. It strikes me the solution is something in the middle ground. To take a step backward down the read we’ve both travelled down and, if there’s still a chance, rebuild. Creative destruction.

I’m not sure I could go back to being single again; fill the massive hole that losing him would leave in my life. I leapt off the cliff; and the ground may be fast approaching. But I’m willing to hit it if that is what I am left with.

Monday, 28 September 2009


I’m sitting here tonight a bit down because Fella and me had a falling out. The longer terms consequences of this falling out remain to be seen.

I called him this afternoon to talk about going out, just him and me – because we don’t really do that too often these days. However, he was in a rush and pretty much ended the call without listening to what I was saying. This annoyed me, to put it mildly, so I sent a text saying there was, in fact, a reason behind my call, if you don’t mind, thank you so much.

He texted later to ask if I was OK and I replied saying that I wanted to talk so I can explain why I’m annoyed – not angry, or flying off the handle; just annoyed – which can’t really be done over the text.

Of course he then doesn’t answer the phone all evening. So I simply sent a final text explaining I merely wanted to talk but that I wasn’t going to call again tonight. I did drop him an email to, however, trying – briefly - to reassure him.

The reality is, for all of this, I don’t know how long I can keep walking this tightrope. I find things in this relationship so very difficult sometimes. Admittedly, I’m blogging from the perspective of my first real row with Fella when we’re not in the same room. So it’s rather unusual (not that rows are usual, you understand).

Co-incidentally; recently new ‘V’ got in touch. To refresh your memory gentle reader, he was rather exciting gentleman with whom I explored he physical side of my new out gayness rather… fully. But all good things, the first half of this post notwithstanding, must come to an end. For a while at least; for him and boyfriend have moved to London Bridge and are inviting me over for a housewarming party like only they know how to throw.

The thing is it’s…. very clear they are up for double plus adult fun. And if memory serves double-plus is an apt description Now, they know about Fella… and I know he wants monogamy. And that’s all fine; nothing to dreadful or troublesome to work out there, nest pas?

So why did the invitation caused me a little flutter of anxiety? Well, I talked about it with friend ‘C’ and she was able to help me work things out in my head.

I’m hedging my bets in case it all goes tits up with Fella. An interesting realisation. But it’s true. Shocking, but true. I love him and trust him and would NEVER do anything to hurt him but… well, this scenario puts me on the back foot and maybe I just need to be brave. A friend told me tonight that he and I can’t work out. I appreciate and respect his honesty. But there’s so much left for us to explore, Fella and I… and as I explained to ‘C’:

If we lived nearby; if work was less hectic; if… if… if… so it’s all to play for. If we don’t play games.

Friday, 25 September 2009

Vexatious like a fox

Round and round the wheel spins, and today gentle reader the dial stops at… mild annoyance. Well, it did. By the time I got to posting this I was happier. Nevertheless, it seems we have reached a point that all relationships go thorough but for which *sigh* good communication is needed.

Is there a theme emerging here? I wonder.

Anyway: Fella now has his job and that means a lot of pressure is off him and he’s got more time free not applying for things or doing interview prep. So, today, he tells me all about his plans to take evening courses and do yoga and join a gym… a veritable cornucopia of Fella-time.


Not us time.

Double plus harrumph.

Incidentally the college apparently subsidises a lot of its staff’s extracurricular activity. It comes to something when there is a public subsidy for my boyfriend not spending time with me.

I work up to 15 hours a day yet I always make time for him and us; get up a couple of hours before him to finish work so we can spend more time together in the morning. Always making sure he has his cup of tea at the bedside however early I need to leave for work. Actively rearranging my work calendar around his availability.

So, yes, I am a little vexed he’s not thinking of time for us to spend together now he has time on his hands. I’m not suggesting 24/7 – far from it. In that event you could place bets on which of us would kill the other first. Maybe I’m being unreasonable; maybe I put in work and he puts up with me… that would be hard enough to be sure :-)

We do spend time together. There are the weekends and we often go to the cinema on Wednesday. On Saturday I’m going to one of his concerts and Sunday to enjoy the Regent St Festival (hopefully joined by Friend ‘A’). Friday is his leaving drinks from his temp role, to which he has invited me. But it does occur that’s having me along to things he’d be doing anyway.

Including me in things is really sweet. He doesn’t have to and I know he does it for the right reasons. But that’s where communication comes in. Rather than being Frumpella the Humphy Fairy - this is surely not a litany of complaints worth burdening him with - maybe I should just take time at the weekend to tell him I think he and I should spend some of his his new found tempus redux together, goshdarn it!!

Perhaps I’ll do it over his new cabbage strudel recipe that he’s using me as the guinea pig for on Sunday…

Thursday, 24 September 2009


Fella has a new job, which is great news. He was on a temporary contract administering an audit at a medical Royal College; and he has now been offered a permanent position. That complements his birthday nicely so we have two things to celebrate with our trip! He’s [we are] very much looking forward to Paris and I am currently looking for some suitable accommodation...

As for me, I have spotted an opportunity with my own employer that seems to suit me, and would certainly mean a step up if I got it. I won’t now see Fella till Saturday afternoon, so I have a little time to apply for it.

Work is very important to me. Before I came out I was pretty focussed on work as my main activity, but too unhappy to really push ahead as well as perhaps I could. Nevertheless, I have a reasonable career, moving from administration to regulation to casework to project management, and I am reasonably well paid (though in my darker moments feel not necessarily remunerated for what I actually do).

Fella is much more of a social person, with an artistic background (contrasting my scientific education) and as such not very interested in a traditional career or making money. And this puts us in very different positions with very different viewpoints on some things.

I am pleased – well, not pleased, but content I suppose – that I make about 70% of our combined income. Am I competing with him? Or do I merely want to contribute to our relationship in proportion to my gifts – support him in accordance with my abilities? I prefer the latter. I think he simply doesn't care!

I like working hard and making the time for this relationship is one area I am just about managing to pull off – admittedly with massive sleep deprivation on the side. It does make me a bit sad (and a tad envious) to leave Fella with his cup of tea to sleep a while and make his own way into work when I have to rush off at dawn o’clock – or get up two hours before him to do some work reading.

If Fella and I had similar work aspirations or career paths, I wonder how well we would really get on? I suspect we would really be competing then. I’m not a huge fan of people assuming ‘roles’ in a relationship be it alpha/beta or masculine/feminine but it seems our differences help us rub along. And rub along very nicely we do.

Monday, 21 September 2009


Ah that was the weekend that was, gentle reader. Fortunately it went off exactly – if not better than – planned. He loved all of his presents. He rather liked the pork with caramelised apples (such apples!) that I made as his birthday dinner *phew*. He is quite the gourmet, but now it seems kitchen duties will be more equally shared so I suppose in a sense that back-fired… and, thankfully, he’s over the moon about Paris.

I think that the best thing of all was the spread put on by his friends for his surprise party. It was themed as a third birthday party with pass the parcel and musical statues and lots of sweets and lemonade and jelly. With a little something thrown in…

Tremendous fun… though dragging Fella home on Sunday night in his drunken/affectionate state, with a stream of balloons emblazoned with the legend “birthday princess” was not my idea of a good time!

The most important things is of course that he loved his birthday. But, for the purposes of this blog, I am quite pleased about the weekend for a number of reasons.

Firstly, I sat down properly with Fella’s mother and got to know her a bit better over lunch on Saturday. Of Fella’s family she’s been the least accepting of his sexuality; but they are very close so it is good that she and I got on.

As well of this Fella’s friends do seem to like me, both in absolute terms and relative to his ex. A number of them are now my Facebook friends; the more the merrier… but it is important to him that they like me and they are very close. *Phew* again.

Finally, we had a bit of a heart to heart on Sunday night and it seems for all the ups and downs our relationship is on pretty solid ground. I’m a fool to worry sometimes, I really am, but I’m amazed by how I feel about him and the birthday weekend was just designed to show it in some way.

Because our social circles are beginning to integrate we have a lot of engagements ahead of us. Tomorrow and Wednesday we’re going out, first with my colleagues and then with his. We’ll be reciprocating the efforts of the hosts and organisers of Fella’s party by having them over here. And around the same time a dinner party with ‘A’ and ‘F’ and others. And a couple of work functions in the meantime. He’s even invited me to spend Christmas with him.

Lots to talk about :-)

Thursday, 17 September 2009


Just a quick one tonight, gentle reader (oo-er) because I am SO tired. I started work at 8:00 this morning and finished at 9:45 this evening – working at home after leaving the office. This is becoming a typical weekday for me - hugely busy because the pandemic is kicking off and we’re getting ready for the upcoming election and the next financial year – over 90 organisations have to have their plans evaluated for 2010.

I’ve been reticent about discussing my work on this blog because (a) it’s not really relevant to being a gayer, and (b) I dislike bragging and self-aggrandisement intensely. But this seems as good a time as any to scratch the surface.

I work for the body that overseas NHS care in London. Coming from a European background it’s interesting to see the ‘free’ NHS system and compare it to the European subsidised system. I’ve always been impressed by the dedication of the medical and administrative staff to nothing but patient care; and by the clear links between what politicians say and real on-the-ground action to make it a reality.

Fella and I both like to work hard. He has an enormous drive for work and it in many ways inspires me. And Cheerful fairy or no I am still competitive enough to want to always be paid more than him! So our relationship has actually strengthened that aspect of my life not only in the way our lives and work ethics interact, but in the need to plan carefully around him. I had to work late tonight because we’re meeting tomorrow, for example. And as you will have seen I cannot work at the weekend.

It’s very difficult to give to a relationship and manage such a heavy workload. As Fella and I are both swamped the time we have together can sometimes get slightly tense. As I try to be supportive and am NLP-ing my way to being a mediocre (versus a piss-poor) communicator I can dimply perceive why it is commonly held wisdom (and thus probably total twaddle) that relationships have an dominant and submissive partner (no, not like that. Filthy minded thing that y’are!). otherwise how can you reconcile the pressures of living in the modern world?

Work is an area, like so many, where Fella and I seem to both complement and contradict each other. Our similarities ironically presenting the challenge: which one of us stays home to look after the baby that is our relationship? Of course it’s a job for both of us, and an issue that must be worked through in its own delicate time.

In the short term, however, my stream of (fading) consciousness is done and I think a little wine and perhaps a little sleep.

PS thinking of my fatigued state: I watched REC the other day. A Spanish zombie flick with an interesting if underexplored twist. At just over an hour it really moves fast - I recommend it. If you like zombies!

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Birthday treats

I have a new phone! It’s a Nokia 5800 and it does everything I want. I still haven’t quite sorted out how voicemail works… or set it up on my PC (so no pics for now) but I am nevertheless pretty satisfied.

Fella was rather bored of my constant twiddling with the device at the weekend. He’s not a fan of technology generally so my cooing over my precious did not impress him overmuch. Fortunately that Friday we had a fabulous dinner at friend ‘F’s – so good I was distracted enough by marvellous food and company to socialise at least a little bit. Plus I gave him his own account on my PC and he finally has a drawer, so I reckon he did OK.

Also on the plus side I am getting £58 for recycling my old one and that will come in handy for Fella’s birthday weekend. Yes, he reaches the grand old age of 30 this Saturday and even in Strumpetville that counts as a proper grown up fairy so there will be celebrations indeed.

For all my inability to communicate Fella’s protestations that he does not want a fuss, or presents, or for anyone to do anything special are a thin façade and so the plan is as follows:

Friday – drinks with colleagues

Saturday: family brunch; then into London where Fella, his mum and I will spend the afternoon doing whatever Fella’s big ole’ heart desires. Then (sans-mere) in the evening he and I will have dinner.

Sunday I have organised his friends to have a surprise party for him in Greenwich (I woe his friends big time for getting together at such short notice).

And at some point, presumably Saturday night, he will get his presents I bought him:

A Futurama DVD (it’s a joke present because we were, shall we say, distracted from these particular episodes one weekend recently)
A polari dictionary
A ‘Round the Horne’ compilation CD
A very nice bottle of very nice
Some chocolate (of course!)
An exquisite presentation box, inside which he will find:
Tickets to Paris.

Yes, the oft mentioned trip has been booked! It’s from 17 to 20 October, train, hotel, all my treat. Well, mostly my bank manager’s treat but he’s not to know. Would you swoon, gentle reader, over this cornucopia of gayer gifts? Would you?? I surely hope so. My worries about things recently are in part due to a fear I’ve gone a bit overboard. But why not, eh? I may be new to this relationship business but I didn’t arrive in a turnip truck; I’m determined to give him a really great birthday!

I was somewhat reassured when reminded of my Dante, and indeed came up with a brand new rule: if you can see the road ahead it probably isn’t worth the trip

*If anyone has any fairy-friendly hotel tips please drop me a line x

Monday, 14 September 2009


I’m a pretty poor communicator, it seems. That’s quite a challenge both to recognise and overcome. However things have happened both in my relationship and through my work that had given me pause for thought.

I think Fella sometimes thinks I don’t enjoy spending time with him, when I really do. We have different approaches to how we spend our time together and we’re both really busy at the moment so when we can get together it should be precious. But of course, being fundamentally flawed when it comes to expressing myself, and my feelings I find it very difficult to discuss things. Odd, really, when you consider I can talk, write, post ad-nauseum… but apparently say nothing at all.

All I can do is carry on and get better I suppose. I hope, genuinely, that Fella will stick around long enough for some kind of equilibrium to be established. I am convinced of the importance of communication but I really don’t know how to. And this in turn leads to a feedback cycle of increasing frustration till things reach breaking point.

As part of efforts to better myself I bought myself recently a book on neuro-linguistic programming (NLP). A proactive fairy am I, gentle reader. I hope that as [if] I get better at communicating I can reverse the cycle and dealing with people won’t be so draining. It ain’t easy being an introvert. NLP is something friends of mine swear by and I with a bit of luck it will let me garner some insights and solutions without getting me too down about myself!

Fella has an interview tomorrow so for the moment I am focussed on supporting him and so I don’t want to talk about… talking right now. And it’s his birthday coming up so I want to ensure he has a great time. If actions speak louder than words then I think I got some game…

Still, I do think I need to focus on the outcomes I want and just learn to give a bit more when I’m with him. I want him to know I want to be with him and am always sad when I’m not. Better get reading I suppose.

Wednesday, 9 September 2009


I wrote a while ago – before I met my favourite guy - about a five pointed star:

• Career and business
• Health
• Friends (and family)
• Sex and sexuality
• Love and relationships

And now that fifth point has become a second star, in the form of my relationship with Fella.

I thought perhaps thinking about my relationship as a star in its own right would help me pick the main areas I need to concentrate on. I do find – worry, even – that one needs to be good at a whole range of things in order to keep things going. It’s a two way street of course; Fella has and does put in his fair share. But you need to develop these skills over time and with practice so I am somewhat backward in these respects. It’s a pity I didn’t feel free enough to admit to myself who I am when I was younger. But then I can hardly complain of the paradise on whose beach the tides of reticence have fetched me up!

A fellow blogger wrote about making a relationship work; that was my primer. I’ve never really worked on whatever relationship I was in before. I’ve worried about it, had good times and bad… and totally fucked things up of course. But I know none of those guys were right for me and now it seems we have one who… fits. All my friends say we make a fantastic couple; and can barely believe (as can I) that it’s not yet quite four months.

So, how do we do this, gentle reader?

1. Being stress free. I want to ensure when he’s with me it’s a refuge; somewhere where he can always relax, have fun and have a good time. Tough, because I’m not as low-maintenance as I hope!

2. Being supportive. Helping him achieve the things he wants to achieve. I do mean also being honest; if he’s wrong them perhaps trying to help him find the right way? It does occur that sycophantically agreeing with everything he says would make things easier but not longer lasting. It’s a delicate balancing act.

3. Being the best I can be: I like being able to take care of him and be there for him. But I also want him to always feel that…well, he can’t do better! And that of course takes work. Dedication in its own right, and again something difficult to balance correctly.

4. To remember how much I love him when he is around, not just when he isn’t. Oh yes, absence makes the heart grow fonder…but I fail to appreciate the experiences we have, even the mundane, as muc has I should and that does him a disservice.

5. To learn from not regret experience. Back to them good ol’ rules!

I am struck by the idea I may have let pass so many opportunities and perhaps that is the function of this tiny cog in the great Universal machine. But I am yet determined not to let this opportunity pass me by and whatever happens I dimly perceive it is one of the anchors of my life. One of my Great Loves. Perhaps my only, to be sure. How very marvellous and interesting indeed.

Sunday, 6 September 2009


Fella has gone home and left me with nothing but my knitting. Well, as I don’t knit it would seem he has left me with nothing at all :-(

I know I seem melodramatic, gentle reader, but it seems without him here – now that I’m used to having him around three or four nights per week - I am at a loss.

What I should be doing is the background reading I brought home to do for precisely this reason. I knew he couldn’t stay and the extra time to catch up on a bit of work is hugely useful. But instead I think of my loneliness and that there’s nothing on the tele’ and the takeaway isn’t open on a Sunday and yet there is wine in the fridge.

The week ahead will be busy, of course; work and exercise and work and on Wednesday Fella and I are going to the cinema and work and on Friday he and I are attending a dinner party with friend ‘A’ and friend ‘F’ and all three respective partners. The first time we’ve all been partnered up at the same time! My friends all love Fella – quite rightly, more than they like me *nervous laugh*. So it promises to be a good evening; and then the weekend next again.

I have grown more and more dependant on Fella’s presence around me. I do not sleep so well when he is not here. This pains me as he hogs the bed terribly and exudes an insane amount of heat… but, no. It is his presence I need.

Internet dating is often unsuccessful – and I go on the experience of fellow bloggers and friends as well as my own – because we expect the SPARK; a frisson of love-at-first-sight without which we, like kids in a candy store, continue profile shopping…

My relationship, then, is one that continues to grow. At first things were on occasion difficult. We didn’t communicate well. It was hard to work out what the other liked. I genuinely though I’d ruined things on more than once occasion and only a wilful decision to Trust him and me kept me going. Now I see us becoming ever closer; becoming one in our likes and the way we think. Friends remark, given how comfortable we seem together, it hardly seems possible it could only be four months.

Dull and unromantic perhaps, like a quiet Sunday in over going out on the razzle! But I am very very pleased that I took my time to fall in love and decided it was best, this time, to take things slow. Even Trust evolves and much work remains to be done. I begin to dimly appreciate how lucky I am to be with someone who though I may just be worth a bit of time and effort. How could I not respond in kind?

I do miss him though. I may even be forced to take up knitting.

Thursday, 3 September 2009

Speed dating

Following some recent good advice – and proving the value of posting this blog – I tried to talk to Fella last night about various things. Feelings and that. I wanted to let him know he’s my number one priority but that life being the thing what it is, I had a number of pressures that prevented me being the perfect boyfriend. Not by much of course. Just a wee dram shy.

In truth he still confuses me sometimes. The reverse psychology of his ignoring my pursuit; but challenging me when I ignore him persists still. But we make progress nonetheless. So it somewhat threw/surprised/pleased/???’d me when, after setting out my feelings, and convinced he had ignored me in favour of the TV, he began to talk about us moving in together.

Not very soon; in the next couple of years, say. He made it quite clear that my and him and The Gardener will not a happy home make. So it would have to be very much our place.

It doesn’t seem ridiculously early to be talking about moving in together. It is, after all, rather hypothetical. We surely wouldn’t be buying somewhere together so the risks are not huge [are they?]. It does, however, occur to me that when we talk about moving in together we have to talk about money and career aspirations and personal tastes. And all manner of things that may cause tensions. It assumes we know each other as well as perhaps we don’t. It, in short, stretches Trust.

So many ideas run through my head when I think about moving in with Fella. We certainly would need room. A place where we could be apart from each other from time to time lest things get to a head. Introverted and cerebral as we both are, close quarters would do more harm then good after a while. To be honest, three or fours nights a week is quite enough for me for now. I really do like a bit of quiet time from time to time!!

But also I think about what kind of place we would both like. And where it would be both convenient for work and for his family, to whom he is close, to visit. I really am, secretly, taken with the idea. And if we’re talking a couple of years then… well, gentle reader, why not?

Under Seige

“Crazazy Times” is a saying I’ve stolen from friend ‘C’ and now Fella and I use it as something of a catchphrase. It comes in handy because the last three days we have had crazazy times indeed in sunny Strumpetville.

It all began at around 8:30 on Tuesday morning when, arriving at work, I couldn’t help notice the foyer of my office building was full of naked people and police officers. It seems a company in my building does PR for Satan, otherwise known as a company that generates electricity from *gasp* coal. The situation progressed until the police barricaded us inside, and the nudists outside, for several hours. It was like some bizarre erotic zombie flick. Now, I rarely let anything – even a naked man – get between me and food so as lunchtime came and went and the hordes of econudists failed to disperse my mild amusement turned into rather grim satisfaction that it was in fact a rather cold and rainy day.

On Wednesday evening we went with some of my colleagues to try and see Mock the Week being filmed at the BBC but after queuing for an hour in continuous rain we failed to get in because there were already too many guests so instead Fella and I headed home and had an early night. All to the good. Except at 5:30 this morning the door was kicked in by armed police who wanted to use my house as a conduit to get to the one whose garden backs onto mine, and which was at that time the centre of yet another siege. So there I was as dawn broke shepherding our boys in blue, armed to the teeth and in full body armour, past The Gardener’s erotic Greek statuary and nudey calendars, and toward the back fence…

In tribute to Fella’s not-morning-person status I must report his steadfast unconsciousness throughout the armed siege; indeed, apart from his somewhat sleepy and querulous demand to know what “all that banging was” earlier. I left him in bed and went to work. Thus requiring me to report his armed-siege related lateness (largely due to me not getting him out of bed) to his work colleagues.

Today’s highlight was the evacuation of my building in the early morning due not to more econudists, but due to a suspicious package. Which turned out to be a croissant.

I note as I write this it is a full moon, gentle reader. I make no further comment.

Tuesday, 1 September 2009

The 'L' word

I’ve given Fella the night off. It seems only fair that we both take a little rest; we spent Friday night through to Tuesday morning together after all. And as I explained before, Tuesday nights are my night!

Since Saturday I’d been a tad miffed with my Fella because much of the long weekend has been taken up with preparing for, attending, and a follow up visit to his best friend’s birthday. Nothing major; just that for this event we were treated to an exquisitely timed three day operation set out with military precision. Yet I can barely make it to work on time when he stays over because he is not, to put it mildly, a morning person. In fact these days I’ll get up an hour or two before him and get some work under my belt before making him the obligatory mug of tea in bed.

Anyway: one of the biggest learning points about what I increasingly consider my first proper relationship, is that it rarely pans out in the gloriously earth-shatteringly romantic way one might hope. And so it goes with the ‘L’ word.

So, after leaving his friend’s birthday – all his friends are lovely, and I had a great time to be sure – we ended up bickering and he accused me of not enjoying spending time with him; and I responded by saying I adore spending time with him, because I love him. And, to cut a long story short, he said he loves me too.

How typically me! It wasn’t said in a restaurant, or in bed, or with flowers. No; on a street corner in Greenwich in the dead of night…

And there we have it. I resisted saying it for quite some time; and I am not sure how I feel about saying it then and there. Nevertheless, it is done and I gone done it. The learning point for today’s post is, I suppose, reality trumps romantic dreams. And there will be plenty of opportunities, fingers crossed, to show I mean it as well as say it in many much nicer ways.

Not the least of which are the tickets to Paris – I’m going for Thursday morning to Saturday night and I’ve found a nice gay friendly complex of studio apartments. The trip is one of four presents; four because his birthday coincides with our four month ‘anniversary’. But I can post about those another time.

I’m still anxious and inexperienced and unsure and worried but happy and tentatively optimistic and… me. And now we have a new word for our lexicon, gentle reader. And it begins with ‘L.