Draw your own conclusions, I'm apolitical.

And very sick of my lodger's obsession with the US election race.

posted at 5:47 PM •

I've been playing catch-up with myself all week, and coming to a few realisations. The weekend was overdone as usual, and I woke up on Monday morning feeling shattered and with a gnawing sense of having spent far too much money on Saturday night. Sure enough, I discovered that I had about £300 of my overdraft remaining, and precisely £300 of bills going out on the last day of the month.

Panic stations.

I'm living beyond my means. It's mostly bad spending habits - living in a two-income household meant I always had plenty of disposable income.

Since John left, I've had to manage to pay the mortgage and bills by myself. My spending habits have changed little, and so each month I'm creeping a little further into the red. It doesn't help that I've been in and out of contract work for the last year, had to spend money getting the house to a state where I'm not embarrassed to show a lodger around, and the fact that I can't stop myself from going out at the weekend.

Leaving the pub is going to solve half the problem, but unless I can stop going out I could end up worse off. I don't actually make any money from working at the pub, but it does pay for me to go out at the weekend. If I leave the pub and carry on going out at the weekend, I'm going to be in an even worse situation than I'm in now. At least I won't be working seven days a week though.

I have got to break some of the bad habits I've formed over the last couple of years - you've heard it all before - but if I don't pretty soon I'm stuffed.

posted at 12:30 PM •

Just checking in to let you all know I'm OK.

Worn out, broke and depressed - but OK. Donations in lieu of sympathy to PayPal.

posted at 3:05 PM •

Fucking geek.

posted at 1:06 PM •

<a href="http://medosin.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">
Here, ya slag
</a>

Now, here comes the science part.

I'm a closet geek. Yesterday I spent slaving away up to my elbows in a hot Unix shell. Not a well box, either, it was in serious need of some tlc, stat. Our entire webserver, which hosts sites for all of our clients had gone down, and it was up to me, liasing with our webhosting company to get it fixed. Not an easy job either considering we've co-located several thousand miles and multiple time zones away.

Several reboots, ps -aux, and scanning through error logs later I'd found what I thought to be the problem. I suggested a fix to the hosting company, which they promptly ignored. Several hours later, and several frantic phone calls from the director - who of course is in the south of France - and the webhost company directed me to the exact same fix.

I corrected the problem, got the server rebooted, and breathed a sigh of relief as all the sites magically reappeared (of course, it's not magic, it's computer science, but I'm taking a dramatic liberty here).

And herein lies one of the frustrations of my career. The right hand side of my brain works just as well as the left hand side. Up till the age of 17, I was a budding computer scientist - I'd owned computers* from the age of 9 or 10 - but I was about to have a sudden change of direction.

A few factors jumped in my path, not least of which was my precocious allergy to man-made fibres and Death Metal oversize black T-shirts. I got bored with the limited social faculties, poor hygiene and bad dress sense of computer geeks, and became an artist instead. I ditched the computers, bought a smock and artists mannequin and embarked on a new direction.

Fast-forward several years later, and gor blimey, it all makes sense now as a web developer/designer. Yesterday's server fixin' scored me big brownie points. I worked late - and as usual for no extra money, which people with jobs never get. Yes, I won't get any money, but I learned bucket-loads, and it all helps in one way or another. I've got some pixel-pushing to do today, and the chances of this becoming a full-time job are getting better by the day.

As long as they don't make me wear a geek T-shirt.

posted at 10:01 AM •

I've been scared of the future for two and a half years now. Scared of spending my life by myself, having to live most of my life without parents (I've already spent more of my life without a father than with).

I dunno - maybe it's not fear, maybe it's boredom coupled with a feeling that I'm not getting enough from life. Anyway - I'm too busy for introspection today - I got into work and the webservers were fooked, so I had to put my sysadmin hat on and see what was going on. The problem still ain't fixed, and the director is getting jittery.

Might be in for a long one this evening.

posted at 4:59 PM •

I handed my notice in last night - my last shift is August 15th. You heard it here first (just about).

I'm scared - I've been a barman for a year now and yet can't believe it's been that long. I'm scared of the future.

posted at 10:54 PM •

Comment > Answer.

I'm going to try an experiment here, prompted by Redmond's comment in the previous post. As soon as I receive a comment on any post, I will write a response to it as a post. It doesn't necessarily have to be 'on-topic', but some kind of comment or question that I can give a response to will make things more entertaining.

I'll answer the first comment when it arrives - and I'll answer with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.I've been for proper advice - from the HSBC and Halifax. OK, it's not impartial, but have you actually tried to get to speak to someone from the Citizen's Advice Bureau? I have checked the website a couple of times and found out opening times - and it's never convenient. In the last few months I've either been too tired to make the effort, or I've been working freelance/contract so taking time off means losing pay.

The advice I've received from the two banks I've spoken to is roughly the same - to have John's name taken off the mortgage they have to underwrite me as the sole title-holder. Without a full-time job or a good track record of freelance invoices, that's not going to happen.

Yes, I could get some further advice - I have spoken to John about having some kind of written agreement, but he wants as little contact with me as possible, and isn't prepared to make any effort on this front. I can't afford any professional legal advice or work in drawing up papers, so basically I'm stuck as far as I see it.

I have to trust John.

Next question?

posted at 3:59 PM •

To answer a few points raised by the last post - something I don't often do, but will here because - well, it's free therapy innit?

I know John doesn't read the blog any more. He barely read it when we were together - I used to occassionally get search referrers from Google for "my ace life", a telltale sign that Bear had popped his head round the door. For some reason (perhaps later illuminated) he couldn't make the conceptual leap between knowing the name of the site and adding .com at the end.

I say I know John doesn't read what I write about him, but even as I write that I'm beginning to wonder. Can you ever believe someone who stole from you and cheated you after you gave them your love?

This is a frightening point for me at this point in my life - mostly for practical reasons - John's name is on the mortgage until I am in such a position to have a bank accept my sole application and underwrite me. He has said he no longer wants any share of the equity, but I have to take that under trust.

Does he read here? I don't know. I don't think so, but more importantly, I no longer care. Nothing I say here has any bearing on him, they are my thoughts that I am working through myself - he has made it abundantly clear he will have no part in clearing up the emotional pain he caused, so whether he reads what I'm going through or not, I no longer care.

All I know is that I am working through my emotional pain. I don't know if I will ever really be over all of this - that is something I do worry about... M commented that my problems aren't that big, and he was right to some degree - and yet I still dwell on them. Do I enjoy the pain so much?

But - there is another side to this - yes, my problems aren't that significant, they are things that almost everyone goes through at some point in their lives - losing a parent, a partner, a job - but it happened to me all at the same time - one blow after another.

Will I ever get over this? The clue is in the question as usual.

I am working through it - but I'm fairly certain that John is not. Through life we accumulate emotional experiences, and through various conscious and subconscious mechanisms, these experiences blend and interact. New experiences emerge from the brutal mating of diverse emotions, causing ever increasing complexity.

I think I've reached a point where I realise that I have no empathy for/with John anymore - his emotional landscape is far too alien to me - his responses too foreign, and communication with him breaks down further each time I speak with him. He has closed off any and all feelings for me, just as he has done to others before me.

posted at 10:18 AM •

John cut himself off from my life totally when he left last September, something I knew he would do even before he left. Considering his past track record on people that were no longer necessary to his life, I knew that once he left I would have little or no contact with him.

He barely has any contact with his own family - his mother 'disowned' him after he came out, though this is his version of the story, and knowing John, I suspect that the severance of ties was a reciprocal process, and quite possibly initiated by him. In the process of turning his back on his mother, he also turned his back on her entire family, cousins, aunts and grandparents.

He had little contact with his father, Brian, through his teenage years. His mother made him write a letter severing all ties and telling him he no longer wanted to see him (hmm, a pattern emerging here), a fact that caused John a great deal of emotional distress and guilt. He eventually re-established contact with Brian, but I think the guilt of what he had been made to do as a teenager was something he could not reconcile and so his contact with his father was minimal.

During our relationship, John spoke very little about his family. In our last year or so together, he started to have some contact with his mother's side of the family after his cousin Joanne managed to get in touch with him. But still the contact was negligible. Joanne called a couple of months ago wanting to speak with John - I can't remember if it was Dave or James living with me, but I didn't take the call. John had left at least six months earlier, but hadn't told anyone.

All of this was at the forefront of my mind when John split with me. I knew I was about to be discarded, no longer a part of his life - and in the process I feel like I lost the last five years of my life. We had few friends, and few shared memories that included anyone else. The previous year and a half of grieving mum's death were to be lost.

I have tried to explain that to John, but does not seem to be of much significance to his 'new life'. I now wonder what kind of man he is, that he can so cruelly turn his back on someone who gave him so much love - and to do so without giving any reason, without giving any chances for reparation.

I wonder what kind of man can walk away from people who love him and never look back.

I constantly look over my shoulder, and see my love and memories dragged from me back into the styxian void. The temptation to look back at his gaydar profile is constantly there... Has he linked to his new boyfriend? Has he changed his photos? Is he mentioning his new life?

Most of the time over the last year I've been too busy to keep track - too busy trying to keep myself going and not falling apart - and even if I'd wanted to, or had time to, he is generally disinclined to speak with me.

I checked his profile yesterday, and there was no mention of the new boyfriend - where I'm sure there had been before. Have they split already? Has he decided not to refer to him anymore? Was I mistaken in thinking he had mentioned him?

Yes, I still care - the amplitude of my emotions is a lot weaker than it was even three or four months ago - but I still care.

posted at 6:06 PM •

Money is time. Money can't buy you love. Money money money.

There's a saying that goes "you can't have love, money and a good job at the same time." You can have any combination of one, two or none of them, but you can't have all three at the same time. Currently I've at least got a good job, but love - or it's lesser cousin, sex - eludes me. As for money, well I'm in a kind of limbo state - It's coming in, but I'm still struggling to make ends meet, adjusting to the single income, cat and a lodger lifestyle.

I'm just a mass of bad habits waiting to be broken, but I don't feel like I have anything to look forward to which would give me the impetus to make the change. Yes, I'm pretty happy being single at the moment, but that's not to say a little connection - a little intimacy with another human being wouldn't be nice.

I'm trying to start new things - I'm joining the GBMCC - Gay Bikers Motorcycle Club. Hopefully I'll at least get to meet some people outside of the circle of people I seem to spend all my time around.

I'm trying to finish other things - it's high time I left the pub. There are so many reasons to leave, the greatest being that everyone else is leaving, and the only people left are east europeans. One of my best mates at the pub, Stuart, is off to Canada for three months in a couple of weeks - off to do in-store training for H&M in Vancouver.

Of the barmen that were there when I started at the pub a year ago that only leaves Alex, the assistant manager, Gary and David. A new manager will probably be taking over the pub soon, and it seems likely there will be a few changes. I'll probably hang around to see what happens, but I'm not enjoying working there any more, and it's become a flash point for some of my more expensive habits. I don't actually make any money working there, so I think it's about time I found a new hobby.

Well, I'm working in the pub tonight, and writing this post has ordered some of my thoughts about my position there - so I think I will set a date for leaving tonight.

posted at 9:57 AM •

What do you do when a mate who you see only very occassionally phones you at 3 in the morning asking if he can crash at your place as he's just been kicked out of his house (presumably by his boyfriend)?

I hope the answer is grumble and (in so many words) tell him to fuck off. Maybe I should have been more charitable, but it would have meant waiting around for him to turn up, put him up on the sofa, and end up even more shattered all day than I already am after a full weekend of working.

Maybe it was all a dream? Nope, just checked 'Received Calls' - it really did happen. Well, that's me crossed off his Christmas card List.

posted at 2:12 PM •

Yes Dave, but I bet they said that about Dustin Hoffman too (gratuitous opportunity to post picture from Tootsie).

posted at 4:28 PM •

Standing on the rooftop and pondering life. Pondering how far I could travel along the rooftops uninterrupted and letting my mind drift back into memories of dreams, dreams of memories.

I stopped remembering my dreams for a couple of months, but they're returning now. Dreams are the meditations of the busy. I was Peter Ustinov's toyboy a couple of nights ago. This morning I had a frantic 'late-for-work' dream after pushing the off switch on my alarm clock and thinking "that was a bad idea, I bet I go back to sleep".

I went back to sleep and dreamed.

I dreamed I had been dragging up for work since I started, and they were all convinced I was a girl. I was late for work and was determined that I had to go in and reveal to them that I was really a bloke after all.

Hold the dream interpretations, I think I can figure this one out for myself.

posted at 12:03 PM •

James Taylor - Fire and Rain

Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Susanne the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to

I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Been walking my mind to an easy time my back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again, now

Thought I'd see you one more time again
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you fire and rain, now

posted at 3:29 PM •

Thanks for everything, Willie.
It was an honour working for you.

posted at 12:40 PM •

What am I thinking of going back to the Isle of Man for? To spend time with my family who clearly couldn't give two hoots about me? Who am I kidding...

I just got off the phone from my sister. She's been planning a trip away with my niece Ella for about two months now. Although I haven't really made any special preparations, I've got it stored in my brain that they're coming to stay with me for a day at the end of July. She starts telling me about her plans, and asks me if I'm coming to spend the day with her, Ella and Ed at my Nan's. I think it's a sister thing, but when I say she asks me, all she's doing is confirming her assumptions.

She tells me they're going down on a Tuesday and staying overnight. I say it will be difficult for me to take the time off work - I don't get holiday pay/entitlement as a freelancer, and I can't afford to lose a day's pay. This clearly disrupts her assumptions, and she starts the emotional blackmail. Cant you....? Won't you...? She clearly doesn't comprehend the idea of no work=no pay, and eventually we reach an impasse of "oh, I didn't know" - which means "I don't care" the way she says it.

The next thing is stopping at mine for the day - "Oh, so we'll stay at yours on the Wednesday night?" This I thought was the plan all along, and it's what she's talked about previously, but now it's beginning to sound like a change to her plans.

By this point I'm upset and feeling like I'm being cast as the bad grandson who won't go and see my Nan, and I tell her to forget the whole thing.

I'm so sick of it all - she barely phones me, none of my other family ever do - and I don't know why I should give a crap anymore. I've been asking to see pictures of Ella for months now, and it seems like it's too much bother.

Well, if it's all too much bother for you lot, fine - I can manage perfectly well without you.

posted at 9:08 PM •

Where's my silly bitch of a PA disappeared to?

Probably off with those 3AM slags in Harvey Nic's again.

posted at 2:21 PM •

Today I shall be mostly listening to

posted at 10:59 AM •

Ok, well I've found my phone - left in my bag in a pocket I'd checked about three or four times trying to find it. The handset itself I wasn't too bothered about, more the sim card and numbers stored on it. Must, must, must do a backup of some sort.

Back to the weekend - it wasn't such a total write-off really. A couple of things happened, a couple of little steps towards feeling a bit more whole again.

Bumped into my friend Billy, as usual, in XXL. We chatted for a bit, and I can't remember how, but the conversation turned to my ex, John.

John is currently appearing as poster boy for XXL's Monday night club, 'The Daddy'. I have no idea how he came to get involved in the photo shoot, as he never really goes out to any clubs, and certainly doesn't go to XXL. The ad he appears in is cropped so you only see the bottom half of his face, and in the week or so when we were talking cordially to each other he told me about it, so I wasn't too shocked when I saw it.

So, Billy, another XXL poster-bear was telling me how he was at the same photo-shoot as John. He wasn't sure who he was, but commented that he was incredibly rude and obnoxious to everyone.

Sounds like John.

So I'm starting to come to realise what an awful little man John is/was. It's not in a malicious, hateful way - and it's still tough, because part of me still loves him - but I can simply see how uncaring and vain the man was. I always knew it of him I suppose, but I think I wanted to change him, to make him a little softer round the edges.

Over the past year he has stood by while I fell apart, sobbed on the phone to him, begged him to talk to me, appealed to his decency - and each time he has calmly, coldly refused me. He has a twisted sense of propriety in the matter. He is my ex. He no longer has any obligation to me. The demarcations are very distinct to him - he owes me nothing. Never mind that I supported him for a good part of our five years together, never mind that I brought a salary in when he was unemployed, twice - I am his past, and John Chisholm never looks back.

And in the gloom of these thoughts, I've been looking back over this last year, and I've realised that I am much better off without him. And in these realisations that I fell in love with a man who had no concept of honour, I realise that I am the better man from the experience. It hurts like hell, it still hurts even though I have closed myself off from the pain he caused.

He may have been able to jump straight into another relationship, but I can't. I doubt I will be able to for quite some time. But I'm starting to be OK with that - I'm actually quite happy being single.

posted at 11:19 AM •

Lost

Another lost weekend. Lost dreams, lost sleep, lost friendships and lost time. Lost chances, morning tube home, asleep at 9am, waking up at 4pm late for the Sunday evening shift. Lost phone, lost wrist-wallet.

Lost energy, socks, money, food, health, sanity.

Lost a sense of being with someone, found a sense of liking being single.

I need to stop losing things - start finding my own way again. I'm lost in another Monday morning, bodyclock +/- 9hrs, trying to think straight. Another Monday morning finding the will to change my life, but scared of losing it all again.

I've been single for a year now. I've been struggling along doing the same thing week after week, trying to come to terms with John leaving me, trying to keep money coming in, trying to find love, trying to find a new purpose in life, or at least trying to get back on the path I was on before all this started.

It's not easy.

posted at 11:03 AM •

What a weird week.

I started off worn out from the Big Gay Out workathon in the pub. Outfits or no, the eight hour shift was bloody knackering and the tips weren't that great. I went out after the shift, but was in again for the Sunday evening shift - karaoke - and woke up on Monday feeling like the weekend hadn't really been any different from every other weekend for the past year. It did, however provide me with a landmark of having worked at the pub for a year, as I remember having just started there for the Pride festivities last year, but had already bought a ticket, so didn't work the shift.

So - Monday - and something new to worry about. In the couple of interviews for the new job I had ended up showing some bits of work hosted here on myacelife.com.

Paranoia had been rising over the previous ten days that I would somehow managed to lose this job before I even started once they started to read the goings on of the past year and a half. Blog-stipation set in. "I can't write about my feelings anymore - what if someone at work reads them?"

On top of all of that I'd been feeling like this could well be my last chance at my career as it's been. If this one goes wrong, the weight of reasons to re-evaluate things will just be too much and I'm starting to feel like I might retreat back to the Isle of Man for 6 months. My silly little head has too many spare thought cycles with which to analyse things, and I've been thinking about how this job is under the shadow of the BT tower, where I started my career in London nearly six years ago. Seriously, I think about this sort of thing all the time. Full circle, finishing off where I started out, I like that kind of neat little story arc.

But if I've learned anything over the last three years, it's that that kind of pattern is a fiction - life imitates art, but only when we try to shoehorn the patterns into something meaningful. Life is messy. Life doesn't really do happy - or sad - little endings.

The week sped by, the weather changed, and something shifted inside me.

I like this company. I always like companies when I first start. The work is stimulating and - importantly - very very varied. Steve, fix this on the server. Steve, write a quick'n' dirty content management system. Steve, fix this flash movie. Steve, come up with some layouts for this site. Barely time to fit in my three o'clock nap, and no time for paranoia.

There are just a few niggling details though, but they're nothing to get worried over. I'm the oldest person, by a year, in the company, and I think this is just telling me I should act with a little more maturity than I've managed previously. They're all straight lads, and I'm tip-toe-ing around certain personal details of my life at the moment. The time will come to start being open about certain things, but it's a difficult situation being the only gay guy amongst straight guys. Add a girl, and the tensions shift. On top of all of that, there's my story of the last two years - I'm quite conscious of being 'an orphan' at an age when it's still a little unusual.

The final point - and it deserves it's own paragraph - there's another blogger. And that, dear chaps, I will talk more about later, because it's nearly one o'clock and I've got to get off. Work in four hours, and no clean clothes, and so far I've just been sitting in front of a screen for two hours.

posted at 1:04 PM •

You Are Not A Strong Black Woman

[from the lovely Dennis]

posted at 10:54 AM •

I've got time to browse blogs and comment, or write a proper post*.

I've plumped for the former. I like plumping.

So, read my thoughts on:

Prince Felipe de Borbon's beard at Jimbo.info
Tom Baker and sushi at Eltororojo
The Queen's bladder at jetsetpiggy
Four in hand at Blue Witch

posted at 10:34 AM •

Too busy to blog.

New job is going... quite well. I'm sharing a desk with a tank of insane gay fish. There's a large orange one who's currently trying to landscape the foliage and gravel while the other fish dart around looking for cottages. They're currently quite excitable because yesterday a little murderous shark fishy thing got taken away after killing two or three of them.

Anyway - the humans are nice here too, and so far the work is challenging and stimulating. I'm saying no more though - you know what my past record has been like.

Just a final word of recommendation for The Smoking Room - fucking cracking dark comedy.

posted at 2:26 PM •

I wonder whether I could still be a toy-boy?

OK, I'm 30 - but I reckon shave the beard off and I could pass for mid twenties. Regular Botox, and I could maybe manage early to mid twenties.

I'm sick of being a grown-up. I'm getting to the point where I really could quite happily compromise my morals and standards, find some rich old guy and live a life of comfort and luxury.

Where do I sign up?

posted at 5:43 PM •

Energy deficit.

New job, new location, new people, new horizons.

Last chance...

posted at 10:00 AM •

I think I just got cruised by TV's Charles Dance.

It seems the street I'm working on is primo aged celebrity stalking territory.

posted at 11:28 AM •

Caution: Gayest post ever.

I've got my outfit sorted for Gay Day. Correction: I've got my outfits sorted. Usually I never really bother with this kind of silliness, but this year - well, I'm working in the pub all day, intend to get drunk and have a birrova laugh.

Now, I have a bit of a problem though - one of the outfits means I will be baring bits of skin that don't usually see the light of day.

My legs.

My very pale, very white, very British legs.

So I need help - fake tan - but what to go for? And should I go for it at all? I just want them to be slightly less than white, not going for a full-on teak. Can anyone recommend a product?

posted at 11:12 AM •

Gaydar sucks.

On the world wide dating web, the photograph and byline are king. Only the very beautiful who are physically perfect from every angle, viewpoint, condition of lighting and composition or the hideously ugly stand out from the crowd. The perfect profiles somehow condense a personality into 500 words or less without sounding like arrogant self-absorbed pricks (best practice: contradict yourself like crazy) or describe themselves in such sordid detail of sexual nuance that the Marquis De Sade would click away in disgust.

Joe Average - and by this I mean people who's charms perhaps lie a little deeper - don't stand a chance. Those that haven't taken the time to have their photographs artfully shot and lit to make the best of that chiselled jawline and disguise that lumpen nose will be binned.

It's a symptom of the web being a 2D, bandwidth-conscious medium. It's impossible to get across 'sexiness' - the nuances of human behaviour that combine or conspire to attract. Walking into work I can easily spot at least 20 or 30 sexy guys who I'm sure I wouldn't give a second glance to if I saw their travelcard photos. The oddly loping walk, the quizzical furtive glance that lasts a microsecond, the way he carries his bag slung over his shoulder like a brat-packer on a european vacation.

These are the things that you can't get through the clamouring glamour and grotesquification of the internet singles profile.

I wonder whether I would have been attracted to John if I'd seen his gaydar profile first, but the point is academic as it's impossible for me to look at it now without a stream of signifiers slamming into me. But based on past experience, I think I'm looking for love - sex - love - in all the wrong places.

posted at 9:28 AM •

Archetypes exist for us to make sense of the world. Good and evil are concepts that are easy for us to grasp, but unfortunately don't actually help in the real world.

John, for instance - in a lot of ways I still love him, I'm still in love with him. I find it hard to see myself with anyone else, and the reality of losing him still seems like a dream from time to time. But I also hate him. I hate him for how he's treated me in the past year - I hate him for the fact that I will never get the apology I feel I deserve from him.

I hate him and love him in equal measure, and it's a dangerous cocktail. It's hard to talk to him without the resentment coming through, but it's hard to not speak to him as I feel so lonely.

Still, the good news is I'm getting loads of semi-hardons lately. I got one today in the queue at Caffe Nero. Most enjoyable.

posted at 5:22 PM •

I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members.

Groucho Marx

posted at 10:58 AM •

So much for having a whole two weeks off.

Deja vu. I wrote this post last night, and I'm writing it again back at the company I left last week. I'm back in for two days to finish off a couple of bits for the last project I was working on. I really don't want to be here, dragged my heels all the way in (which isn't really that safe on a motorbike), feeling like a truant being dragged back into school.

Then on Friday it's hands in the air, whistles at the ready for a weekend of Gay Pride Gay Christmas Gay Shame Big Gay Out festivities. Most of which I'll be spending in the pub.

Come and say hi.

Bring tips.

And so much for feeling 'over' John - I had a little wobbly knee-d honk behind the Waltzers early in the week. It's funny - I'm so desperate to be over him that I censor myself on here. In my attempt to seem normal I miss out a lot of how I'm feeling because I don't want to bore you people with it, but now I'm starting to think that's what you want.

You keep coming back.

posted at 10:07 AM •