Fella is at a concert tonight so I’m waiting for him to come home, and once I’m done here I’ll be cooking us dinner before we settle in for the night.
Today has been a nice day. A lie in, before a breakfast of *ahem* and a morning spent lazing in front of the television. After going into town we had lunch in a small sushi restaurant in Soho where I bumped into a former neighbour of mine of whom I was always rather fond – I hope she (a very bubbly Malaysian lady) and I can meet up again soon as she was always a lot of fun! Anyway, after that Fella and I began some serious retail therapy. Shoes; coat; watch; cufflinks. All for me! Bless his heart if Fella wasn’t following me round – entirely without complaint - some all afternoon staggering under the weight of things that had caught my eye. I do like clothes shopping, gentle reader; as some unfortunate Frenchists found out today, many a slip ‘twixt a mirror and me when I am cooing over a new purchase.
I did a bit of Christmas shopping too; a nice journal bound in leather itself inlaid with semi-precious stones for one of my cousins, and a hand-made Egyptian jewellery box for my mother. All in all I spent heaps of lovely lolly. Well, ‘tis Christmas, and in Strumpetville retail therapy is prescribed by any doctor worthy of the name…
Now all I really need to do, bar a few more gifts for the known knowns who are my friends and family, is find the something for the known unknown who is my boyfriend. Hmmmm… Asking him outright has, annoyingly, failed to yield results. I want it to be right and I have the double burden of the unknown unknown that is his family’s judgement and the bar of Paris to at least match. So I reeally do want to know at some level what to get him; what gifts he would like most.
The shopping today is also in part to prepare us for the trip to Germany next week. Time has stolen a march and in four days we shall be flung across the sky in an aluminium death-tube full of other people’s farts to confront under Why There Are No Grandchildren. To be fair it’s also largely Because I Wanted To (and that, as an aside, has been the justification for a lot of what has been blogged about this past couple of years) but really both of us are beginning to get a tad nervous and taking this time to be together, to be sure we look our best and to know how we plan to do things before we go, is proving to be very important.
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Fella is at a concert tonight so I’m waiting for him to come home, and once I’m done here I’ll be cooking us dinner before we settle in for the night.
Thursday, 26 November 2009
The main reason for this is that next week we’re travelling to Germany and that seems to mark the start of our Christmas season. After that it’s work parties and seeing mutual friends and his family for Christmas and some kind of New Year thing to round it all off… So I think it would be nice to spend some time together before it all kicks off.
It being our first Christmas I am beginning to think about the things I need to do. What kind of presents to get; and when to give them to him. Where we should go out etc. Funnily enough when I think of Christmas with Fella I think of Valentine’s day; I’m not sure what it is that makes the association in my mind, though I suspect we don’t need Dr Freud do we, gentle reader?
One of the nicer things about our relationship is that we have begun to have a fair number of mutual friends so I do think our December will be a busy one. I think Christmas itself will be quite a challenge, as I don’t really know his family – met his mother a couple of times, the father and brother once. At a funeral. So three days with little food, no booze and [the horror] only four TV channels – oh, and a single bed to boot.
Well, I’ve made it quite clear I’ll come up after work on 24th and be back on 27th; I’ve preferred to spend Christmas this last few years with friends, and 2008 is a matter of record on this very blog… the family thing has not been a big thing for me.
On the plus side I know Fella is very excited about Germany and is currently convinced that there will be snow and lederhosen and blonde girls in pig-tails yodelling. Bless ‘im; perhaps he won’t be disappointed. Though if we do get snowed in, well my family are certainly no greater a prospect than his… Southern Germany ain’t no Strumpetville. But the most important thing is that he has a good time.
And as for this weekend, Fella has requested curry for dinner. And then I think perhaps a film, and after that…
Sunday, 22 November 2009
So, I thought to myself, as I’m at a loose end why not write about penises? Well, I sometimes have strange thoughts… but since this bog was started I haven’t discussed greatly cock; banana hammocks; one eyed trouser snakes; the wedding vegetables.
Fear not, gentle reader, this wurstfest is not some self aggrandising soliloquy, eulogising my God give talents. No, I never claimed to be anything special in that department.
We don’t like to talk about penises openly; by which I mean debate rather than discuss loudly on our morning commute. You can't avoid it when cruising - that's what you're after, after all. Still, I have been genuinely taken aback when someone has initiated a conversation with an enquiry about my size; or sent me a range of intimate photo’s of themselves entirely unprompted. Good people, you are mistaken; for I am the puritan whore!
Nevertheless, we all worry about our endowment to a certain extent as we are growing up. In the end, of course, 99.99% of us are absolutely fine and when push comes to shove, as it were, we realise there was little to worry about after all. Nevertheless, you go on gaydar and it’s ‘cock-size’ section seems remarkably well populated with large, nay, extra large gentlemen seeking to make each others’ acquaintance. My personal experience is often the ‘larges’ are prone to exaggerate whilst the ‘averages’ are paragons of modesty (if, ideally, not virtue).
Of course we rarely truly believe adages such as ‘it’s what you do with it that counts’. In reality it is what you do with it that counts, very much so. It’s just that if you are a luckier man than most… well, *ahem* you may not have to do quite as much.
Still, I have been with my fair share of men. the nights of 1994 spent largely in the carpark behind the bus-station in Salisbury; my now-married college housemate whenever he fancied a round of what he termed “the duvet game”; a sizeable proportion of gay men between the ages of 20 and 50 with a postcode beginning SE… and I would say that there is a “goldicocks” size out there: not to big, not too small, but juuuust riiiight. One of my exes was prodigious not only in his enthusiasm to the extent there was a period when I genuinely could not sit down. And whilst sometimes that’s fine, sometimes there’s something alarming as well as genuinely aesthetically displeasing at some enormous great thing looming out of the dark at you.
Still, it’s funny how important this kind of things seems to be. I do think how good someone is in bed is an important part of what future I may have with him; but at the end of the day I think referring you to rule 7 is the best way to end this post.
Monday, 16 November 2009
Going for it, as it were, has been a bit of a challenge on this occasion because of the complicating factor of my relationship. That is, on the face of it, unfair. Fella doesn’t stop me seeking career opportunities after all. No, what I mean is that we spend weekends together so working on my application this weekend I had to plan carefully around him-and-me time, especially as it was our hemiversary or whatever the word is.
Anyway, I go it done. Where I work has a peculiar system where a person can apply for a promotion at defined times in the year, but there may not necessarily be a specific post attached to that promotion. The upshot of this is, should I prove to be successful, is that I don’t know what work I’ll be doing.
Another thing I’m doing is finally applying for that master’s degree. I have selected my provider – Birkbeck College – and I am currently picking between two courses; and I hope to be accepted to start in September 2010. The course I really want requires an academic reference and costs about £5,000 a year in fees alone. While I currently hold two honours degrees (physics, and economics) I have been out of study for some time so I am not confident I can meet the reference requirements. The other costs about half as much; and requires merely academic qualifications for the entry requirements. Still, we can but try; if there’s one thing this blog shows it’s that I’ve decided being a one man idiot will stop stopping me.
I hope my employers will pay about 75% of the course fees (that is the standard percentage they offer) and recoup the rest by a monthly deduction from my wages. So fingers crossed on that score. The real challenge will be squeezing two evenings a week lectures plus study time out of my busy schedule. But this is something I really want; and I don’t see my relationship as something that would hold me back – if I plan carefully. On the other hand planning carefully is most certainly something the Cheerful Fairy has never considered a forte!
But anyway, there we have it. Those are my work plans over the coming months. I am quite convinced they are the right thing to do, not least because of the inspiring people I have come across in my day to day worklife that really make me feel I should strive for something better. I think being with Fella is a big part of that, in the sense that I have to be more careful apportioning parts of myself and what I commit to – it’s not just about me. I have to think what’s good for us. Fortunately being the best I can be is right for us – phew.
What the hell kind of illness does that to a young gayer about town, eh? It’s like some kind of anti-vampirism. But it still sucks, haha!
Nevertheless there was the chance to quaff some fizzy stuff and partake in a delicious meal cooked by Fella last night as it was our six-month anniversary*
Yes, indeed; six months. I think that puts him pretty much in the lead in terms of sheer sticktoitiveness, ahead of all the other boyfriends and boyfriendettes on the scene since I started this blog.
And let us not forget, gentle reader, that this is merely the beginning. I am spending Christmas with him at his parents (eek) and our eight month anniversary coincides with the annual ball at the Royal College where Fella works.
In addition the visit to my mother has been booked and sorted; she apparently is perfectly happy for us to visit and proclaims herself to be never so open-minded. I suspect a wee bird has tweeted in her ear about not being quite so… her. But so far so good. Fella is very excited; he is convinced we shall be flying into a winter wonderland of lederhosen and girls in pigtails. As we’re going from 3rd to 6th December, I suppose you never can tell. As not the world’s best flyer I hope the snow holds off to a certain extent!
So soon it will be time to think of Christmas presents for my gorgeous guy, and planning for his anticipated move back to London in the New Year – we both agree we’re not ready to move in yet, not by a long way. It’s funny how relationships develop; mutual friendships, mutual plans. Though that is a subject for another post; in the meantime it’s 4:11 and I wonder if snuggles might help me sleep for a little while.
*strictly speaking it should be sixth mensiversary or half-anniversary or something but that’s a bit clunky and you know what I mean when I mangle English in this way, n’est pas?
Sunday, 8 November 2009
Part of my work involves sharing and disseminating expertise so that really challenged healthcare providers improve their performance. The people that I work with to do that are really inspiring; and for some time I’d been thinking about doing some kind of evening course related to my career. Recently both ideas have coalesced into a wish to undertake a master’s degree.
Two nights a week for at least two years. Plus studying, research, revising and exams. Doable – so long as there are no classes on a Friday!! £5,000… that’s less easy; but again it CAN be done. I’m proceeding on the basis I won’t get time off or financial support from work of course. If I can, well, that would be great. If not, well, that would be that.
There is of course the worry that I’ll be taking on too much at once but on the other hand it would be good for my career; and as I enjoy learning and being challenged it would, I think, be beneficial on many levels.
The money side of things is a bit tougher. I am thinking about rather dull grown-up stuff like pensions, saving for a house, and other things. Taking a chunk out of that will be quite a call on my resources. Though there would be plenty of time to save as the course might not start till next September.
Well, I’ve really got an interest in doing it so, although I’ll need to do more research before I find exactly the right course and institution, this is definitely something I want.
And you know how much I like to get what I want gentle reader ;-)
Monday, 2 November 2009
So, best start the month with a catch up, run down, and general summary of life in sunny Strumpetville since our sojourn to Paris.
I think starting with the worst; I have been increasingly unwell since we came back from holiday. I shan’t trouble you with my squishy organic symptoms. I’ve had some tests done and we shall see soon what it is that ails me. It could be any number of things, but the range of symptoms is too narrow to really suggest anything serious.
On the plus side the illness, unpleasant though it surely is, has left me with a much reduced appetite and a real aversion to alcohol and chocolate. What rare malady it is that makes me crave nothing but light salads. My weight loss is beginning to get comments!
Anyway… moving on; at Hallowe’en Fella and I went to two parties. One at a mutual friend – a gay female couple Kevin ahs known for ages but who have clasped me to their collective bosom. It was a double celebration as they had also recently become engaged to be married, which was fantastic news. I went dressed as the devil, cape horns and pitchfork. I was rather pleased with my effort. But after a could of hours we had to head home, because there was a party at my house too!
That was as expected. There were outrageous costumes and cocktails galore! There was also yet another new housemate, replacing the previous mystery housemate (keeping up?). He seemed very keen on me, so I had to try and avoid him for a while. Unfortunately his keenness has spilled over into the post-party world.
He’s another odd one [but of course]. Canadian and lacking in subtlety; my efforts to make clear I have no intention of sleeping with him led to an invitation to ‘just cuddle’. In our underwear. Hmmm. Or; not. I must admit to being somewhat bemused by tactics such as “come into my room; I’ve got something to show you *wink*” or “you’re cute. I’m horny”. Like an amazing diamond, the many facets of this house continue to dazzle!
So that’s where we are at the start of the month. This week I’m seeing Fella on Wednesday, and then we have friends over here for dinner on Friday. Later in the month we have, amongst other things another fancy dress party and of course I’m still in the throes of organising the trip to Germany. So forgive my scant attention to this blog, gentle reader: I promise there is plenty to come to hold yours !