... and

It’s 30 December and as I’m hurriedly typing this Fella is fast asleep. He looks like an angel when he’s asleep…

We had a lovely Christmas, at his parents’ place outside London. I got on very well with everyone in the family so we can definitely mark it as a successful visit. I felt very much welcomed by them all. It really was nice,.

Fella got me a new DVD player (my old one was very much on its last legs so well observed by him) and his family gave me a cookbook. The gifts I got them whilst in Germany went down very well too. There was even snow on Christmas Day. All in all it went much better than I could have expected.

I’ve been thinking a lot about New Years resolutions. I am amazed by how well my relationship is going and we’re both talking in terms of the years ahead, not just weeks or months. So in many respects 2010 will be focussed on building that up. Hence I am resolved on matters pertaining to that:

Work – keep working hard, and trying to do well. I’m not sure yet quite what that looks like; but it’s great to mix things up. Experience new challenges.

Education. In keeping with the above start my master’s degree. The people I deal with on a daily basis inspire me; I aspire to their example. It will be a challenge because I will have to give a few evenings a week to study and classes; time I would spend with Fella. Plus he wants to go back to bar work to make some extra money. That’s going to really hit our time together. BUT (customary preposition notwithstanding) I am keen to take our relationship forward to meet these challenges because I really think we’re in a good, strong place.

Domestic: it’s time to move. Things here with the Gardener are fine, but not really suiting me. So, I’ve decided to try and get a place of my own again . No great rush of course; but given the challenges I’m introducing I do think having a place all my own, that Fella and I can share, will help ameliorate the effects. Before you ask, gentle reader, we aren’t ready to move in together. No: not at all. What we do need is a place where we can be together, but in separate rooms – if that makes sense.

Legal: hints have been dropped. I know, for example, which of these Fella would most prefer. And indeed, it has been made clear that were certain questions to be asked the order of things would be I should do the asking… so while 2010 might not quite be the year in which the question is in fact asked, in the next 12 months we do consider that the decision to ask it will be made.

So, stay tuned... and in the meantime:

Happy New Year

I hope 2010 brings you almost everything you desire ;-)

Merry Christmas...

Merry Christmas, Gentle Reader...




Another year over with. Started with International, ended with Fella. I've moved house, been promoted, and started a proper boyfriend type relationship! Woo-hoo. 2009; had its ups abd downs, but will be always considered quite a vintage year.

2010 will have its challenges; health, wealth and happiness? Well, that kinda depends on me. But I'll discuss that nearer the time.

Today it was a hurried last minute shop, then I'm meeting Fella at 4:30 to get the train to his parent's house *angst*. Well, I'll tell you all about it when I get back.

For now, let's make this post all about you.

Thank you for reading; thank you for comments, advice and feedback. I do appreciate it!

And now, Merry Christmas. I hope you have a really great holiday, and I look forward to blogging at you in 2010...

Roasting

I genuinely had nice weekend this weekend. A coupley weekend of niceness it was.

On Friday my manager had her leaving drinks from work. I bought her a nice present – a very expensive pen, if you please, in a gorgeous presentation box – on behalf of us all, and some champagne. I owe her a lot; I’ve been lucky with managers these last few years [ahem] and my recent elevation is as much due to them as any talents I have brought to bear on the matter.

Anyway, après les drinques I met Fella at the Royal College and there were more drinks; the staff had had their Christmas party and the entire building was a-swinging. We left about 10:00 and tried to head home. Sadly, the gods of snow had other plans. Our trains were delayed! Well, I was unhappy about this and Fella impatient with my attitude so we ended up having a row. Darn. Still, we couldn’t have a proper humdinger as that would have involved parting ways and he would have walked off into a blizzard and been eaten by wolves or chavs or something. And I would have spent the weekend being bored.

So instead we had a heart-to-heart. A proper one. It was good in many ways. I think we both agreed we could talk about things. Properly. Without me descending into an orgy of self-questioning misery, if such a thing is possible.

So, Strumpetville being Happy Holiday Fun Town, we continued our merry weekend of fun with a house party on Saturday at which we hardly needed the emergency services at all. And on Sunday, as a reward, I did Fella a lovely roast dinner with real German potato dumplings that went down a treat.

And then we relaxed all afternoon – he slept and slept! And watched Soapdish to round off the evening. It’s a good film; Fella loves it.

And then we slept

Yeah, that was a nice weekend. Now I miss him. I was very sad to part with him when it was work time on Monday. But that time together was oh so nice...

I’ll help myself get over it tonight by piling all the pillows into one head, sleeping right in the middle of the bed, and getting up when it suits me! So goodnight gentle reader; more from me tomorrow.

The voice of love

There were so many comments on the previous post here that I thought, for a change, I could respond to them in a follow up post.

I think the people commenting on my own ramblings raised a number of really good points that really made me think, so in no particular order…

I have done that thing of judging people on their looks. Particularly when sex is in the offing. I used to judge people instantly based on their profile pic, or how they looked when I met them. I have heard this is a common trait among us humans. But then so was sh*tting in the street, and now we have plumbing… its material progress and we have emotional progress too. I know this because for being me I was only ever in the prison I built for myself.

I, I, I… Anyway, I put my own behaviour down to, firstly, having a type. Thin over large, for example. And secondly what I shall loosely terms standards; saying “I suppose you’ll do as no-one else is biting” is hardly more flattering than “you are not my type”. Don’t you think, gentle reader?

But of course, this spurs me on to try and look good – take care of my body, wear the ‘right’ clothes. Moisturise. I don't choose my friends on any of these criteria of course; and should not value their friendship if they judged me so. But my friend ‘A’ put it best when she advised me not to display those traits I myself find off-putting. This, of course, related to behaviour in (seeking) relationships. Nevertheless the lesson still holds.

So I am, to an extent, seduced by the shallower side of the gay pool. And this becomes a circular thing because Rule 5 notwithstanding, I am bound when trying to look good – to conform one might say to the Strumpetville Standard – to measure my results by the approval of others.

This in turn means I must behave differently when I believe I look good compared to when I don’t. Perhaps, then, it is true that people are merely reacting to my confidence OR I don’t mind so much that they don’t approve OR both.

It is also true that it’s what’s inside that counts and I’ve generally found that giving people a chance really does pay off in virtually every instance; maybe feeling good about looking good advertises that you are good inside? Hmm, I doubt that,

I do know that I have become more comfortable with myself and I certainly don’t try to look good for anyone other than myself – how it makes me feel. I don’t go crazy for clothes and shoes, though I do much more than before I came out. I like colours; I like wearing a suit. I’m not on the cutting edge. But I don’t think – whilst not wishing to deny my undoubted flaws – there’s much physically I should seek to change.

Emotionally? Personality? People skills? You betcha. Much work remains until... thanks for the comments. Thank you; thank you.

The look of love

I have found that how you look makes people treat you differently. Well, d’uh, you might say. And your exclamation might well be right.

Of course we should all make an effort to look after ourselves. Looking good is a significant part of feeling good about ourselves. That’s why so many of us are dedicated followers of fashion. But, more than this, I’ve noticed that casual acquaintances – colleagues, friends of friends etc – tend to treat me differently on days when I look good compared to days when I look merely my usual average self.

Now, you know me gentle reader; I’m not one to boast. But at a stretch, on my very very good days I can see myself as quite attractive. Coming out helped me in two ways. The first is I made an effort to lose some weight, dress better etc. The revelation, supremely hurtful though it was, that Darren was slumming it with frumpy old me spurred me on to no small extent. I went down from 92kg (203lbs) to 75kg (165lbs) over a carefully planned six-month diet.

The second thing was the veritable human wave of man types willing, nay eager, to make Frumpella’s acquaintance. I even managed to convince some of them to hang around for a while.

So it worked.

But the fact remains if I dress just right, my hair is OK, I’m wearing the right shoes, people will talk to me and then the next day, when I revert to type, so do they: ignoring me.

I’m not talking about the superficiality of the average gayer. I’m as guilty as anyone of picking in the past a potential partner, for dates or assignations, primarily on looks. I mean: it’s bad but we’re not exactly looking for to oh-so-telling ample bosoms and wide child bearing hips are we? THAT’S not shallow at all…

The funny thing now is, having plumbed new depths of lightness (if that makes sense) people do keep complimenting me on my looks. Having gone down from a medium to a small I get to have even more retail therapy now; on the other hand having seen photo’s of myself throwing some shapes on the dancefloor last Saturday I know that MUCH work remains to be done. In many ways, despite opening up to valuing myself through others’ appraisals (a risk we all take when putting ourselves out there), being noticed makes me fell quite good. I try to get more of it. I try also not to be to vain… honest.

Some of my friends do get exasperated by my wish not to put the weight back on – I don’t know what this illness is but I bet I could make good money if it turns out to be contagious. But looking good – or at least making a real effort – is getting quite important to me.

New Job

I posted recently that I have been promoted. I am very pleased, but it’s sad to be changing to a new role at Christmas. Leaving the old team in the midst of seasonal celebrations is a bit of a shame, but needs must, gentle reader.

Fortunately my promotion is effective immediately, and whilst in my darker moments I wonder if that means I’m leaping from the frying pan into the fire, the good news is I don’t have to wait for the lovely lolly that comes with my new grade (as others have to do) and I see it as quite a vote of confidence. It feels nice to be well liked, in a professional context if nothing else, by people whose intellect and talent impress me.

My organisation is one of 10 regional health authorities (Strumpetville being a region) and the Department of Health (the UK’s health ministry) is reviewing the 100plus statutory functions we are charged with executing, as part of an assurance programme. And I will be helping with that, as well as continuing my lead on the planning of local health organisations for the 2010/11 financial year.

This means in turn that I will no longer have direct responsibility for a specific group of hospitals and community providers (or commissioners of those services).

The plus points to this are (a) I am now only doing project and programme management; (b) I am getting wider exposure to more organisations and building wider professional relationships and (c) I will have greater control of my day to day working life as I shall be planning rather than reacting – and serving only two or three masters rather than the current nine!

On the other hand relative isolation with a revolving door of short-term relationships may not suit me; it takes me time to get to know people and I’m quite introverted. I’m not that good at selling myself; publicising my achievements – sheer sticktoitiveness is a big part of getting me noticed.

Well, as per (and given Rule 5) the solutions rest only within myself. At the risk of contradicting the previous paragraph, I KNOW I’m good at things when I actually bother to get to grips with things. In a blaze of powerful insight I can confess I have enough brains to just coast along in most situations. Well, I’d like to do really well with these projects so that strategy is out!

Though this post disguises it well I think the work will be interesting. And as these projects will be over at the end of the financial year there will be even more new and exciting things to come.

Party Season

So another weekend over! It was fun, actually. Friday I had my work Christmas party, followed by drinks with Fella and his colleagues at the Royal College where he works. On Saturday he went ice-skating with his friends; and then we met and went for dinner in Soho, which became after dinner drinks; and that in turn became dancing the night away at a club. It really was fun.

The down side was I couldn’t make Sunday Fella’s day as I had planned, because we slept in and he needed to go home in the afternoon. Goshdarn.

Still, we have next week and the week after before we stay with his parents for Christmas. Next week I have “Mary Christmas” drinks in Soho with friend ‘A’ and he wide circle of gay friends. That night Fella is working at the Church so he may combine naughty with nice and join me. Then Friday I have another work lunch and my manager’s leaving do. And on Saturday a house party. Presumably on Sunday Fella and I will spend some time together but I do find that when we have a lot of social engagements – even joint ones – our quality time suffers. That will be something to think about in 2010.

I’m lucky I get paid before Christmas or I’d really find myself chronically pooped in a financial sense. After all, Fella’s long (and growing) list of Christmas presents, my own extensive gifts to myself the party season is a bit of a burden. Still, Strumpetville is a paryt town gentle reader so I see no desperate need to hold back.

Dancing the night away… I love doing it. And it had been a short while. Fella and I complement each other well enough in that he knows the best places to go, and I know how to enjoy myself once we are there! Oh yes, a bit more of that next year if you please.

I have begun to think about the New Year and what might be done – achieved rather – in the coming12 months and the truth is I’m looking forward to it in a rather different way than the last two years. And, as you may have gathered from the last few zillion posts or so, Fella is a big part of that. Party season – soon to be over; or just beginning?