Mike's Blog

The Good Wife

2012-01-30T20:56:00.000Z

In mid-February I start a new secondment in the ChiefExecutive’s office of the organisation I work for. It’s great to have a newopportunity – I will be focusing more on corporate governance and risk managementrather than business management which will be a good change. A sidewayspromotion, if you will, and perhaps the nicest thing is I will be workingdirectly for the head of the LGBT group, who has been double-plus supportive ofme and other gay colleagues in the office.

It’s only nine months, but I’m very much looking forward tothe change of setting, work and pace.

Of course I still need to do my project, dissertation andstudy for my exams, so it will be tough to manage but I know with Fella’ssupport I shall be able to manage.

Fella of course needs my support too, both with the physicaland the emotional side of looking after his mother, and also with his owncareer.

He is on secondment too, of course, and he is doing very wellin his role. He’s such a sweetheart it’s nice he can work to his strengths andcapabilities as well as being uber-popular in his own office.

Part of supporting him is playing the good wife; where heworks has lots of social and work events and it is politic to be there tosupport him and hob with the nobs. It’s a bit like being a politician’s wife;smile and wave, smile and wave… although as we both work in healthcare I can holdmy own with anyone there. I enjoy it, but I have to be pretty and witty and gayregardless of my mood!

This weekend it was the highlight of the season, the annualball. I went the whole hog and bought a new DJ for the occasion. As this is thethird such occasion I’ve been to I saw loads of people I know; a lot of thepeople Fella works with have become good friends. I’m told the cheerful fairywas on top form, which is good. They do like the keep the wine flowing at thesethings…

I really do think it is a strength of our relationship thatwe are mutually supporting each other’s careers; and I’m very proud that I’vebeen able to support fella in getting his career going well. Admittedly I ampleased that I get paid more than him, but every little helps as we plan forour civil partnership and our life after that. Of course we have to support eachother in lots of ways, but really I do enjoy hanging off his arm at a do ortwo.

Happy New Year

2012-01-16T20:39:00.001Z

Yes Gentle Reader I fear I have neglected you for most ofJanuary. But the Cheerful Fairy is back in Strumpetville, and more than happyto discuss my favourite subject – Me.

Have I been idle? No, far from it!

I have submitted by dissertation proposal form to myuniversity for my research project; I’ll write more about that soon – my firstmeeting with my department head is on Wednesday, and while alongside theregular study and work it will be a big challenge, it’s a topic I’m very keenon – yes it is gay themed – and I’m eager to get started.

I have started my medication regime and I’m back at the gymso I’m pleased to write my health is getting back on an even keel. My New Yeardiet is going well, although I fell off the wagon rather at the weekend for afriend’s birthday.

On top of this I have been applying for new jobs and had aninterview last Friday – I’m pretty sure I didn’t get the job but hey-ho it’sall good experience.

Work continues busy and I’m eager, obviously, to move on tomy next career step. However, while I’m there I’m still an active member of theLGBT group and we’re working to celebrate gay history month in February.

Fella continues fine and we are as strong as ever. Domesticbliss reigns. We socialise with our friends; we enjoy each other’s company; thewedding planning continues at its slow pace. We have our synergy – he cooks, Ieat; I diet; he loses weight.

There are down sides. Fella’s mother is increasingly unwell.Her liver cancer is terminal and over Christmas it was clear she is goingdownhill. Caring for her will be a big part of our year. However long she lasts– and of course we will have to think about changing the date of our civilpartnership to take into account, bluntly, how long she will be around and healthyenough to attend.

All in all there’s lots going on in 2012, and lots willhappen. So, to finish off this breathless guide to an average man’s life, Ihave decided simply not to have New Year’s resolutions. Nope. Why write somethingdown I can look at in 12 months and go “ah. Forgot about these…”? Instead Iwill keep trying to be the best me I can possibly be. This will includeresisting the temptation to set fire to my office.

Meme

2011-12-28T21:23:00.000Z

Ask me no questions…

I got this meme from Nik theGreek’s excellent blog. The answers are honest, sometimes embarrassing and probably quite average – not unlike myself. Idon’t do enough memes, so if you know of any you think I might like to fill in,please let me know…

Here goes.

1. How old were you when you knew you weregay?
I recall first feeling I was gay when I was 14 and I honestly fancied aspecific guy rather than just being confused. I know he liked me too, as wefooled around a little, on and off, for about three years – we never fully consummatedour mutual adolescent attraction, but I remember him very fondly sometimeswonder where he is now…

2. Have you ever had sex with the opposite sex?
Yes. I have even had a couple of girlfriends, of whom one is still a goodfriend. But it’s been a while!

3. Who was the first person you came out to?
The person I came out to properly first was one of my closest friends, ‘A’.After I met Darren I got tired of some people knowing I was gay just ‘cos Ididn’t pretend and others kinda not knowing. So we went to the pub and told herI had started dating him. The doors infatuation opens!

4. Are you out to your family?
Yes. Everyone, now.

5. Do you want children?
No, but the idea has its attractions. Still, I know the kind of work that’sinvolved and strongly believe that if you are to have a child, that’s what yourlife has to be about… and I want my life to be about other things. So. Selfishme; no kids.

6. Do you have more gay friends or straight friends?
I don’t know. Close friends - it’s a good mix. Acquaintances – mostly straight.

7. Were you out in school?
No. I didn’t want to get killed.

8. Is your best friend the same sex as you?
No.

9. If your best friend is the same sex, have you ever had sex with them?
N/A

10. Have you ever done crystal meth?
No; though I did hook up with someone who was on it…. We… haven’t kept intouch. That, and quite coincidentally hooking up with his boyfriend (strangulationfetish!), would make an interesting post one day.

11. Have you ever been in a sling?
No. But that’s not quite the end of that *fond memories*

12. Have you ever done a 3-way?
Yes. I have always enjoyed such things very much, but always was careful to bethe ‘guest star’ in such arrangements.

13. Have you ever dressed in drag?
No. I have GREAT legs though… and I’m told there are photos of me at a recentdrinks outing wearing a VERY fetching shade of lipstick indeed *blush*

14. Would you date a drag queen?
Yes; and I have. I didn’t know he was a drag queen when we first starteddating, but when he told me I thought it was fantastic. That was shorty after Ibroke up with International – c.f. he took the first opportunity to head forthe hills LOL. He, the drag queen, didn’t think I was really over intenrational, so didn’t really take ourbudding relationship forward which was a shame, because we really liked eachother.

15. Are you 'fixed in your ways' as it were?
In some ways. I’m quite – c.f. very – introverted but once I loosen up I liketo enjoy myself and I’m quite open minded. My Myers-Briggs personality type isINTJ which I’m told makes me open to whatever the clearest and strategicallybest frame of mind might be,

Original 15. Are you a top/bottom or truly versatile?
I’m top/versatile.

16. Cher or Bette?
Hmmm. Ask Fella.

17. Have you dated someone of a different ethnicity?
Yes. More than once. Nothing long term.

18. Been to Fire Island? Saugatuck? Key West? Ft. Lauderdale? Palm Springs?
No. Most outrageous destination was a nudist beach in Spain with International.I’d go back; via the gym, mind you.

Original 18. Have you ever barebacked?
Hmmm. Not sure I should answer that. Which, of course, means yes.

19. How many Madonna CDs do you own?
None. Fella has, quote, “five or six”. Enough for both of us.

20. Name of your first love?
Well, the guy I talk about in answer 1; or Darren.

21. Do you still talk to them?
No. Never.

22. Does size matter?
Ah… well, I’ve discussed that before. Bluntly, yes, but not as much as peoplemight think, and actually I’ve had fun with all kinds of people of all shapesand sizes. I’d never reject anyone on those grounds; and have never thoughtafterward it wasn’t worth hooking up with someone due to that.

23. Biggest turn on?
A good kisser… oh yes. There is also a special area on my neck which, ifreached, drives me completely INSANE. Plus I always enjoyed that physical feedback wheresomeone appreciates and responds to your… best efforts.

24. Biggest turn off?
Overly negative people. Glass half full darling!

25. Ever been harassed due to your orientation?
Yes. Fella and I have had a couple of hairy incidents; and sometimes colleaguesmake comments that are not much appreciated. Not been physically attacked oranything serious; so I think we’re lucky.

26. Worst gay stereotype that applies to you?
Hmm. My response to that would have to be – what’s a gay stereotype? If gaypeople can be put in a series of pigeonholes than I don’t fit any of them, orbetter still I fit some of them all the time but to varying degrees dependingon a range of factors. Tell you what – show me some living female, black, orJewish stereotypes and let’s compare notes.

27. Ever been to a pride rally?
Yes. Love them

28. Would you marry if you could?
Yes.

29. Would you rather be rich and smart or young and beautiful?
I’d rather be a younger and more beautiful me. If I could be that young andbeautiful forever. Evidently I can’t.

Actually, scrap that superficial answer. I’d rather beME, but the best me I can be. Including the best looking me of course.

30. Do you sculpt your eyebrows?
We lift and separate from time to time.

31. Do you trim your body hair?
There are certain areas of a gentleman’s garden I find it prudent to keep incheck. I don’t shave it.

32. Ever had sex with more than one person in a day?
Yes.

33. Ever been to an orgy?
Yes.

34. Which character in "The Women" best reflects you?
Can’t tell you. In that I don’t know.

35. Favorite gay expression?
Erm… nothing springs to mind.

36. How may 'exes' do you have?
Well, Darren and International make two fairly long term-ish relationships butI’ve dated some other guys who were special enough to be exes. The real numberis probably in the region of five or six. It depends on your value of ex I suppose.

37. Do you believe in fairies?
Only cheerful ones.

38. Do you have any tattoos?
No. Fella won’t let me. Though I’d love to…

39. Do you have any piercings?
No. Fella has a few. I don’t like the idea for myself.

40. Would you date a smoker?
I do.

41. If you are male, do you know many lesbians?
Yes, both as good friends and where I work.

42. Do you know anyone who has died from HIV?
No.

43. Are you part of a gay organization?
I’m a member of the LGBT network at work.

44. Is your gym cruisy?
No. Shame.

45. Grinder or Scruff?
Crikey – neither. Those days are behind me.

46. Are your best years behind or in front of you?
In front.

47. Got Porn?
I like a couple of websites and explicit blogs I drop in to from time to time;but nothing stored. People give Fella porn as an in-joke from time to time.

48. Make out music?
Nothing really.

49. Ever been in love with a straight guy?
I’ve fucking fancied loads, starting with my best friend’s brother when at highschool right up to a couple of cute guys in my office. In love? No.

50. Did you ever have sex with him?
I’ve fooled around with a couple of guys while at University. Nothing heavy,and we weren’t in love.

51. Have you ever been to a nude beach?
Yes – see 18

52. Have you ever been to a bath house?
Yes

53. Ever had sex in public?
Yes.

54. What gay gene did you miss out?
Ah, that goes back to the stereotype thing doesn’t it?

Happy New Year ;-)

Christmas

2011-12-27T21:08:00.004Z

Fella and I are back from Christmas with his family, and ifyou’ll forgive me gentle reader, now the in-laws have been done, I’m lookingforward to some relaxation and general enjoyment.

We went to the in-laws this year, as last – the disadvantageof having my family being abroad! I actually get on with them very well, and I’vebeen welcomed into the family in the most touching way. Nevertheless, it’ssometimes a struggle and this year as much as ever.

Fella’s mother has terminal liver cancer and she is clearlydeteriorating very fast. His father reacts to this with extraordinary anger,and certainly 2012 will have to see Fella supporting them a lot more and mesupporting him doing that.

On the plus side it was great to see my brother- andsister-in-law again – for the first time since their wedding - and when all ofus were together we had so much fun. I was given a book on art deco and alovely top from Fella. I gave him a wine and cheese tasting evening (with afriend) in January and a wash-bag which he can use in his new role as eventmanager, which takes him all over the country. The others got a book, or for mymother-in-law a kindle voucher as she spends a lot of time in hospital…

There was more food than we could eat – yeah, that’sChristmas – and a lot of the gifts centred on chocolates and biscuits and finecoffees; that was my father-in-law buying on his mother’s behalf, and i am touched she included me on the gift list, canny old bird that she is.

Now we’re back. After a couple of stressful days Ipractically jumped Fella when we got home... but that’s another story. Now, inthe few days we have until we return to work in the new year I’m looking forwardto some quiet relaxation, seeing friends and generally taking advantage of thebreak.

This year really has had its ups and downs and in many waysI’m looking forward to it being over. It hasn’t been bad, not at all; but thereare so many things to do that 2012 needs a run up. I’m actually really lookingforward to what might just be the (second) most important year ever ;-) andthis Christmas is almost a sabbatical from the challenges ahead, no matter howmuch I relish them.

I’ll post about what needs to be done in 2012 in the NewYear , and I will certainly be relaxing until then, so let me take thisopportunity to wish you all the best for the festive season; my thanks for readingabout my middle-classed wittering about my ordinary life; and the hope that your2012 will be your best year so far; but not your best year ever!

Reading List

2011-12-19T22:03:00.000Z

By and large, Gentle Reader, I’ve done pretty well as TheCheerful Fairy. I’ve met my man, and am making plans to be the Forever Fairy,with car payment and in-laws and a goldfish Oh my. Getting here I thoroughlyenjoyed everything the Strumpetville had to offer. My eyes were opened butluckily my mind wasn’t closed.

I have a lot of gay friends, and as it turns out (a Christmasparty themed post for another time) a huge proportion of the colleagues in myteam are gay – 30% or so. Naturally being gay is an automatic get out of my badbooks card.

A lot of my friends have been active in gay issues for along time. Some since university. I of course was somewhat hidden away fromsuch things. I don’t think it even occurred to me back then that there would besuch a thing as a LGBT student union rep.

So now I read Pink News and Gay Times and sign onlinepetitions. I am a representative on my workplace’s LGBT network and work toadvance or advocate gay issues with my employer.

I still don’t get involved as much as I’d like in gay things– I don’t know gay literature, films, etc very much. Part of me shies away fromthe very pretty people because I ain’t one of them any more. But that’s noexcuse.

So, then, I have developed a small – and will expand –reading list, and viewing list.

My first piece of gay literature, and I use the word literaturequite wrongly, was The Captain’s Boy. You can well imagine the content –young insanely good looking aristocrat flees family after being caught rogeringthe young insanely good looking gardener, gets press-ganged onto a ship of fitand well hung sailors; gets captured by a load of fit and well hung pirates.Eventually he gets captured by the native inhabitants of a tropical island whohave a remarkable range of highly man-specific rituals… and so on. I remember thebook always equated penis size with virtue. The villain of the book wasintimately described in punitive terms!

Moving on up, these are the items on my reading list

· The Velvet Rage – recommended by a date whobecame a friend, written by a psychologist about growing up gay in the modernworld

· The Swimming Pool Library – a novel by AlanHollinghurst

· The Fluffer – a film about a young guy obsessedwith a gay-for-pay porn star. It’s Fella’s ;-)

· A Beautiful Thing – because it’s great and Ihaven’t seen it for years

The book I’ve just finished is Twenty 6 by Jonathan Kemp, 26short sections of prose describing the experience of various sexual or eroticor emotional encounters in a unique combination of graphic and somehow touchingterms. He captures those most fleeting moments very well. I recommend it.

Do you have any remmendations? I also recommend this:

Update

2011-12-13T20:39:00.000Z

I’ve been away for some time gentle reader, and for that I’msorry. Time has caught me up… but on the plus side that gives me a fair bit toblog about.

And Tuesday night is my quiet night in night so blog Ishall!

First – my health. Well, I’ve had lots and lots of hospitalappointments. It seems I need to be put on medication, but in the meantime I’vebeen enrolled in a medical research project which, before my treatment kicksoff proper, will see me being the big pink in cushion for a while longer.

*sigh* I suppose it comes to us all sooner or later but Ihave to accept that I’m getting a bit too fat and old to be the life of theparty – and such parties we have in Strumpetville to be sure – and todemonstrate the fact I went on my work Christmas party on Friday and ended upgetting so naughtily drunk as fell over on my way home (oh the shame) and havedamaged my knee. No more runs at the gym for the time being…

Well, I can give up on the diet for the Christmas seasonalthough I will have to get back on the horse with a vengeance in the New Year.To help, and linked with my healthcare going forward, I plan to go booze freefor January (after the first of course!).

Second – work. Busy as always. I’ve decided I really do needto move on but my studies are preventing me from really focussing on it for thetime being. The Christmas party was fun though. It turns out a huge proportionof my Directorate are gay too. Surprisingly my boss is – I didn’t really have aclue, but great news. As are the two other people who revealed theirorientation as the evening wore on. It means of the 60 of us (up from 19 when Ifirst started!) at least 20% are ‘family’. And I knew plenty of others outsidemy team who are too.

I’m part of the LGBT network and the number of gay people Iknow of suggests there are massive under-reporting of sexual orientation. I canunderstand that; but equality legislation means it’s important for people to beopen –the more of us there are the greater the obligation on our employer torecognise our contribution and support our identity.

Third – studies. Well, they do keep me busy but I’m lovingit. Well into my second and final year and I look forward to starting on mydissertation. Over the next three months I will be doing a mini project of myown choosing, and as you might expect the topic is gay-themed.

Essentially my hypothesis is that men in civil partnerships(perhaps the theme is personal too?) display less risky sexual behaviours thansingle gay men; perhaps fewer sexual partners; perhaps me likely to practisesafe sex; perhaps more frequent HIV testing. At its core my hypothesis might besaid to be: equal rights have positive health benefits.

The data I plan to use is held by Sigma Research, who do theannual gay men’s sexual health survey. They seemed really positive about myproposal and posited some interesting challenges to my hypothesis. Huge caveat –they might not give me the data – but as a fellow academic and massive gay, well,we can hope?

Equality

2011-11-21T22:53:00.001Z

There is a debate going on in the UK about civilpartnership; and whether in particular religious institutions should be allowedto perform them.

Currently there is a legal prescription against civilpartnerships being described as marriage; or being associated with religioussymbolism. This can cause problems for gay couples, as very strict registrarsmay veto certain types of behaviour, decoration, or forms of words. Certainly atop tip Fella and I have already had is to get to know our prospectiveregistrar very well.

Some members of the House of Lords, the unelected upperchamber that can delay and amend legislation – but not veto it – are opposingthis proposed opening up of options for gay couples. Tories, they are. A reputation for nastiness they have; sometimes they subsume it long enoigh to win power. But they always return to type.

I should make clear that no religious group or building wouldbe forced to undertake civil partnerships. Currently gay people may not be discriminatedagainst on the provision of a good or service; and the point of civilpartnerships is to give gay couples the same rights and protections in law asthem there proper married types. So it’s not such a radical step forward, but awelcome one.

Still those members of the Lords are opposed. And they aredressing up this opposition as what I have seen described as a victimisationmeme. A simple equation; gay equality demeans religious freedom.

Well, gentle reader, time to introduce a new technical termto our rarefied debate. Horseshit.

It’s Horseshit because religious views should not be used asa way of attacking other people. It doesn’t damage anyone’s freedom to bestopped from doing that. Religion is being used as an absolute; but theargument is that it should be a supreme get-out-of-jail-free card.

It’s true that no-one’s freedom should be limited until andunless it impinges on someone else’s or is liable of causing harm. So you hategays? Well, you get to shout it from the roof-tops, pray for our destruction;you’ll never be denied healthcare or the right to vote. Maybe you need to becareful what you say and do at work, or in public, or to your family – but hey,welcome to our world.

No, it isn’t equality they want. But if they do, let’s giveit to them. Time, I think, to get the bishops out of the Lords. Time todisestablish the Church of England and all the subsidies that entails. Time tostop treating your vast portfolio of land as a charity, and get you to pay yourtaxes. Come on – you want to be like the rest of us – by all means.

Because, although we don’t claim to be special, it doesn’t meanyou get to say we are less than what we are. So live. Grow. And marry me.

Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum

2011-11-20T12:08:00.001Z

I can hardly believe, gentle reader, that it has been solong since my last post. Well, there’s been lots of stuff going on, not leastthe Cheerful Fairy becoming a human pin cushion. Half a dozen hospitalappointments coming up which will no doubt provide a blog post or two.

However, that's not what I’m here to post about – no it’sweddings!

A few weeks ago Fella and I attended the civil partnershipof a couple of ladies, H & P, and I have to write we had a fantastic time.They had clearly gone out of their way to make everyone feel they were part oftheir day and to ensure everyone enjoyed taking part too.

It was a triumph of organisation and we in the Big Gay Familyresponded with a willingness to party above and beyond the call. Fella lost hisshoes; I lost a coat (that does tend to happen when the Big Kay Family getstogether). We got them back though, andin the process we were able to thank them for letting us be part of theirspecial day. The venue, the ceremony, the reception were all wonderful. As H & P are teachers they had structured the day like a school timetable; theceremony was Religious Education, the blessing was Assembly. And instead offlowers as the table centrepiece each table had its own type of sweets thatpeople were encouraged to share.

One other thing we learned…

Fella and the Cheerful Fairy are NOWHERE. I mean, we knowthe date; we have a preferred venue; we’re going to wear clothes… we’ve done atentative guest list – pleasingly more people than we thought.

But that’s it. We’ve been X years away for some time now butthe truth is we need to get all the details done in six months, perhaps less.

Because, of course, we need to start sending out ‘save thedate’ cards and then invites. And apparently that alone is a crucible ofpassion and intrigue that makes Lucretia Borgia’s weddings seem dull anduninteresting by comparison. People genuinely fell out over some being invitedto the reception but not the ceremony! We were afraid.

Clearly we’re going to have to Bridezilla this baby up. Alot to think about and a lot to do. I’m glad we’ve had our eyes opened,particularly in such a nice way. I think we can look forward to a lot moreposts about registrars and venues and stationery and wedding lists andhoneymoons and menus and clothes and hotels and…

Older

2011-10-26T20:16:00.001+01:00

I’m 34, apparently well past an age where I could respectably go out clubbing or on the pull in Soho. That’s fine, I have my Fella and with the diet and exercise regime I get compliments about my figure, my arms, etc - which is, perhaps not surprisingly, nicer than the small shreds of validation that come from sleeping around (and yes that is a large part of why I did it. D’uh!).

Still, 34 is a funny time of life. I love being in my 30s, almost as much but in a different way to which I enjoyed being 16, 17 and 18. But what is it? Less than half-way, but more than a third. I’ve been a child longer than I’ve been an adult, but I’m not quite fully grown up (as my bank manager well knows).

In the last few weeks I’ve been described as an older man, by a guy in his mid-20s! And be flattered that I look like I’m in my mid-20s, by a guy a couple of years older than me. Yes, each hoped flattery would get them everywhere, but still…

It seems in some respects time has caught me up. I’m writing this before telling many of my close friends – some of whom read this, I am pleased to write - or Family (though Fella I told straight away).

Last Tuesday I was an unwell fairy, so got some medical advice from NHS Direct (a telephone based free healthcare advice service) and they recommended, to my surprise, I attend my nearest A&E (emergency room).

Well, speed and efficiency were certainly the order of the day. Although it took eight hours in total I was hooked up to more machines and devices than I expected; and yours truly was turned into a little pink pin cushion…

So here it is.

My brain isn’t working as it should. Blood tests show its receptors are not picking up as many hormones as it should. Its chemistry is unusual. Sometimes people with altered brain chemistry have a mental health problem, apparently sometimes not – or not just that.

My brain tells my body to produce stress hormones like adrenaline but doesn’t mop up the after effects. It seems, to put it bluntly, I suffer a constant stress hangover where different parts of my body go out of hormonal sync… the result; irregular heartbeat for a start. Ouch.

It feels weird that my behaviours and reactions are sometimes not my own – and I didn’t know it. Or maybe that’s just how “I” feel.

How do I manage this? Well apparently I have to give up caffeine, chocolate, salt, reduce (not give up, thank fuck) alcohol and carefully avoid the gym. Fortunately sex wasn’t mentioned.

My consultant gave me a lot of information about some unique stress management techniques; and I’m going to go in further tests in a couple of weeks.

It’s weird; how do you react when confronted by things like this? I immediately went out to a comedy show (Fella and I were planning to celebrate a friend’s birthday anyway) and managed to cheer myself up. And I have been carefully ignoring my consultant’s advice about my diet.

Well, from now on time to be good. Darn. Strumpetville will never be the same again. And I suppose that’s the difference between 17 and 34.

Ashes to ashes

2011-10-09T19:16:00.002+01:00

It’s October. We’re back from the funeral, and we even managed to squeeze in a couple of days in Bruges before heading back to Blighty. Now college has begun in earnest and I’m back into studying, attending a fairly punishing schedule of classes, and thinking about my dissertation – whilst also continuing my never ending diet of course.

For Fella and I work is pretty hectic, and both of us are trying to find new jobs. Sadly his mother’s condition continues to gently deteriorate so in some ways Fella and I are living like the early days of our relationship, with him spending a few days with her and a few days with me.

What does this add up to? Well, gentle reader, a whole heap of stress. And what is the best cure for stress?

I’ll tell you what it isn’t – family.

I’ve generally been quite pleased with how well my family has reacted to my sexuality in the years since I came out to them. Something that definitely was not on the approved list when I was growing up is, if not embraced, politely accepted. It took some getting used to for some people, but I’ve been quite lucky. They have taken it better than some people’s family, yes indeed.

Nevertheless, and this may be a German thing more than anything else, one thing that has always struck me is a certain backwardness in social attitudes, or a lack of understanding. I mean, it may be my fault for accepting the acceptance without trying to educate or evolve my family.

I don’t want to proselytise about my sexuality and how normal-yet-fabulous it is; and my family are conservative enough about sex (whilst apparently indulging in a ridiculous amount mind) that I was an awful lot older than I should have been when I found out what “balls drop” meant.

Instead what I did when I came out was convince the key players – my mother especially – that my sexuality is irrelevant to my masculinity. Good in the sense that their stereotyped images of homosexuals weren’t true; but bad in the sense that “straight acting” makes being gay somehow OK…

“Straight acting.” I can pretend well enough to be a straight man that hardly anyone can tell… so that’s alright then, right? It’s wrong because I unwittingly participate in the unspoken conspiracy to elevate heterosexual masculinity above all other things.

Oh yes we do… that’s why, I think, a lot of gay fantasy goes into pulling a straight guy; and why women are less likely to forgive a guy who has strayed with another guy – whilst men are twice as likely to forgive a girl whose played away with another girl.

Anyway, the stress of it all got to me a bit and eventually I got tired-and-emotional with it all and lost patience with this “so… which one is the man, and which one the woman?” and the “so will you have a hen do, or a stag do?” and even the “it is going to be, like, two grooms or two brides?”.

Ultimately, without giving a blow by blow account of the Words had, I ultimately suggested that people didn’t really know me perhaps as well as they could, and if they wanted to know anything – rather than assuming – they could perhaps ask?

Well. Certainly I need to mend some fences with my mother, and an uncle, aunt and cousin of mine and I are not quite on speaking terms any more.

You win some, you lose some. I’m not sure yet which side of the line this whole sorry episode falls. But I was there with my family when it mattered; and I’m glad to be home.

1926-2011

2011-09-23T12:11:00.001+01:00

It has been a hectic month so far, and it is nearly at an end. I have passed my exams, and am due to start university again at the beginning of October. At work I now provide support to two teams rather than one; but I have decided to take the plunge and look for a new job when am back.

Tomorrow Fella and I are heading out to Germany. We were planning to go on Saturday and drive our little car down to the alpine region of southern Germany to visit my mother.

Regrettably plans are forced to change due to the sad death of my grandfather.

He has had heart problems since I was a small child, and last weekend he had a massive heart attack. After a short spell in intensive care he was moved to a side ward, made comfortable, sand with the agreement of the family nature was allowed to take its course.

Fella and I will be driving through the night to get there in time. For Fella it will be quite a challenge, I suppose, being that he will meet an awful lot of my family at one time, and in a difficult setting. Funny, really, as I met his family for the first time on the occasion of his grandfather’s funeral.

What strikes me is the efficient German timing of it all. We were going to be together anyway, more or less, so if you’re gonna go…

That really doesn’t do him justice! Born on the cusp of the Great Depression, raised under the Nazis, then had to raise his children under East German communism before they smuggled their young family over the border and started a new life in the West with absolutely nothing.

85 years of hard living, hard drinking, hard smoking and a lard chase took its toll of course and last weekend the music stopped.

To go off on a slight tangent, we went to see Adele in concert for Fella’s birthday, at around the time my grandfather was slipping away. This song in particular I really liked – though she is an awesome performer and a lovely person to boot – and since my grandfather passed away it has been running through my mind during the more personal moments I have taken to adjust to this loss.

Invisible Boyfriend Redux

2011-09-06T20:47:00.000+01:00

A short while ago I ran into the Invisible Boyfriend, for the first time in a long while. He was ever so nice; quite flattering really, telling me how lovely I was and how I was nicer to know than some other guys who wasted his time etc. In the end we agreed to meet again and the other weekend I went round to his place for a coffee.

It was exactly as I remembered it, from three or so years ago. Exactly. Unchanged. He’d just bought the place then and had big plans for the garden, and redecorating. I was keen to help as I recall, a Way of bonding and growing our relationship. Today; the swatches of colour are still on the walls and the project has moved forward not a jot.

I have no doubt he has been busy and he’s had his holidays and family dramas. It will be nice in many ways to develop a friendship (if it happens) with an ex (of sorts). He’s one of the few that has kept in at least intermittent contact, and being part of his life in some way has a pleasing element to it; I can be a good friend and more rounded person.

Still, gentle reader, there was a slight melancholy air to out chat. A ghost of an opportunity lost in the air, just tangibly putting a slight pall over things. I couldn’t help thinking about how my life has changed in the last few years; how many times I’ve changed jobs, relationships, house, and of course where I’ve ended up. Except of course it’s not an end – there is so much more going forward to look forward to.

What I sensed from the Invisible Ex was none of the forward look that I see in others. And of course that I hope I embody for us. I had been out of sorts most recently but have been feeling much better and more energised, mainly due to some changes at work that have presented some real new challenges but partly because it’s Fella’s birthday coming up and we have our holiday/visit to family planned.

I’m being a bit disparaging of the Invisible Ex, I think. After all one of the main issues was that he was too busy and self involved to really be who I needed those three-plus-years ago. It will be interesting to see how much we have both changed as we try to be friends. I certainly look forward to seeing who his real Mr Right is!!

Glass half...

2011-08-28T16:50:00.000+01:00

This weekend Fella and I went to Brighton to celebrate the hen-hen do of two of our friends who will have their civil partnership in October. Fella and I drove down there on Friday afternoon, checked in, met our friends and spent the next 36 hours partying.

There is nothing quite like seeing a lesbian flail about in a giant floating hamster ball, going on a 12 pub crawl, or spending an afternoon dressed as a flapper girl to put a smile on the cheerful fairy’s face, gentle reader. We had a great time.

There were 30 of us in total, a fair number I had met, but naturally a great proportion I had not. A few gay men, a fair number of straight women – I met some nice new people and I look forward to seeing them all again in October for the actual ceremony.

Some of our friends were there too. Always good to catch up with some old favourites, including of course the hens. I was quite touched that each of them in their own way did for me a spontaneous act of kindness, from a great big hug to just checking I’m OK.

You see, although I had a great time I did realise, reflected perhaps in the concerns of my friends, that my mood has of late been very dark. You see, from time to time, despite my efforts to see things in a positive light, I will suffer from a period of mild depression.

A fellow blogger recently had his aura photographed; and I find myself wondering what my aura would look like right now. I have to confront the fact I haven’t been very happy for a while now.

Part of it is self-denial. Not having freedom of action will bring me down. I am very restricted in what I can do, job wise, money wise, even where I live for the next two years but all in a worthy cause of course.

Nevertheless, I have a nagging feeling that nothing is quite as it should be in my life; and that applies to my relationship with Fella too. There’s nothing specifically wrong, but I have a strange desire just to get away from it all by myself for a while. I suspect that’s my strong introversion reasserting itself as part of my mood. If I could change one part of myself (that I can’t change, I mean) then I would make myself more of a people person. There is a reason most of my friends are former schoolmates and current or former colleagues.

But I digress.

There is so much to be positive about; that’s what I need to remember. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight; I’ve passed my exams (hurrah); we’re going on a trip to Germany at the end of September. And of course the wonderful friends I do have.

I think a couple of days off, just here, to reboot my silly head and just have some quiet time is in order. In the meantime, you can look forward to some photos and YouTube gold of our trip!

Hidden Depths

2011-08-22T20:19:00.001+01:00

Who knows what goes on behind closed doors? Well, these days we know a lot of what goes on behind closed doors as people insist on telling us. I refer not just to yours truly and his fellow blogging ilk. I’m writing about the internet and the weird and wonderful ways we get to explore sex and sexuality.

And sometimes… we can get a bit of a shock.

Well, gentle reader, as you know I am on something of a diet and am a bit pleased with my progress. In order to motivate myself and ensure it really is possible for a 34 year old cheerful fairy to overcome his need to inhale vast quantities of liquid and solid calories, and buff up. However, I wanted to compare myself to something other than the airbrushed and tweaked male models in fitness magazines or Attitude.

‘Aha’ I thought ‘I still have gaydar account – I can do a search for white guys, 34, defined/muscled etc and see what I should be aiming for’.

Search duly performed I have a look at the guys this throws up, not so many to make me feel bad, but not so few as to make me wonder if anything other than Hogzilla is asking the impossible.

And then…

Well, my colleague is somewhat older than 34, but it turns out his boyfriend isn’t and their – joint – profile and their – joint – photos were one of the profiles I clicked on. Whoops.

I was actually quite shocked. I felt like I’d been caught doing something naughty – or worse; stalking him. Awkward!! I mean, I wasn’t cruising, there was a perfectly innocent reason for my search. Does he know I saw his profile? I am torn between hoping he does and hoping he doesn’t… I won't be bringing it up, that’s for sure.

He and his boyfriend can do what they like of course – it’s none of my business and I’m actually not even entitled to the opinion. The only gossip here is that I’ve embarrassed myself, perhaps a little, perhaps a lot – and definitely not for the first time.

What is perhaps a tad more salacious is another one of my colleagues who turns out to be quite a prolific porn star. Quite by chance a gay friend of mine was discussing a porn star he’s a big fan of, and he Googled the guy to guy to show me what he was going on about. Well, very impressive in some ways but what caught my eye was the guy he was with. My colleague. Well, I couldn’t be 100% sure at first, and he wasn’t using his real name! But it is him.

In many ways I’m actually quite pleased I know someone who is living that kind of life. My life is taken up by domestic bliss – this post displaces me going on about our marvellous tomatoes, lettuces and pumpkin Fella and I are growing on our balcony. I am torn, I must admit, sometimes between the times that I was being naughty. Nostalgia. Well, their secrets are safe with me, though they may wonder at the smile on my face from time to time.

Strumpetvill en-flambe

2011-08-14T11:06:00.001+01:00

Wow, when things kick off here they really go for it! Never do things by halves in this town.

Fella and I live in sunny Woolwich, and on 8th of August the three days of rioting finally reached our district. First it was reported on the news and we nervously watched events unfold. Then they began to unfold outside our window. Flames leapt up into the sky and there was smoke everywhere. I wasn’t sure we could stay where we were. Drama, gentle reader, drama.

I spent much of the evening excitedly texting friends and colleagues to check if they were OK; some close friends offered us a chance to stay with them if need be but we decided to stay put.

The next morning I went into the town centre, a few minutes’ walk away, to have a look at the damage. Burned out buildings and police cars; the fire brigade still tackling fires. It was a scene reminiscent of the blitz or a bombing. Even now some of the damage is so severe streets remain closed.

I’ve never experienced a riot before, even at the periphery. It was all quite exciting, in a scary sort of way. I’m a little worried it will all kick off again tonight; we’ll be battening down the hatches and Fella is under strict instructions to come home at the earliest possible time. The last thing I want is for him to be caught up in any disorder. The streets are quiet now, but the sense of menace is palpable; people regarding each other with suspicions, shops still closing early. The whole atmosphere has changed.

For me, the most important thing going forward is finding out why this happened. It’s not race, youth, or any easy label. Although the riots arose out of a peaceful protest about the police shooting a man in another area, there is no single Great Injustice that can be singled out for blame.

I wonder if it’s symbolic of the state of the world right now. With the economic, political and military turmoil going on right now it sometimes feels like we’re in a Weimar-hyperinflation-Poland is lovely this time of year situation. Another part of me wonders if this symbolises the emergence of the underclass; third generation under-parented, under-educated people without material poverty, just poverty of aspiration.

A couple of years ago I was a member of a residents association that covered about 420 families; a mixture of social housing, tenants, owner-occupiers; young professionals, families, retirees; a real ethnic and social mix. That worked. Mixing people together meant the standards of civility or social behaviour were so much higher than estates where so many people have been dumped. Everyone working together brought everyone up. People were incentivised to keep up with their neighbours, and people learned from each other how to do better.

Going forward as a country we need to focus on ensuring our towns and cities are mixed communities of all types of people; ethnically, socially, economically. We need to ensure that schools teach people properly and that will cost money. As will a decent prison system that deters crime but reforms criminals. The benefits system should reward and incentivises (and includes), rather than keeps poor people out of sight and mind.

That will take years. Decades probably. But they manage in Sweden, the Netherlands, Australia – we can, frankly, beg borrow and steal ideas from around the world.

In the meantime windows will be replaced, buildings rebuilt, politicians will make their sound-bites and do the bare minimum in order to make this go away. I hope the social scars will be as easily dealt with.

Birthday

2011-08-09T14:13:00.000+01:00

The world has turned and the Cheerful Fairy is one year older. My mid 30s approach with increasing speed.

Unfortunately on the day Fella was very unwell so I ended up looking after him; but the day before we had friends round for dinner and I took the day after as leave as well so plenty of time to relax.

Fella gave me a lovely antique art-deco clock c. 1930 – exactly what I had been looking for, for some time. My mother sent me some lovely framed paintings of the area she lives in (I got the hint, and we’ll be visiting toward the end of September). Friends gave me a home-made hamper of European food :-)

When it comes to birthdays I must admit my inner child does come out and I get quite excited to receive cards and presents. The inner child is normally suppressed by my inner teenager; and keeping him under control occupies my outer grown up fairy much of the time.

What wisdom can I offer up, gentle reader, now that I have turned thirty-something plus one? Not so much, really. I’m quite surprised things have turned out as well as they have! My middle-classed life in Strumpetville, ordinary though it may be, is (I think) the product of a few simple elements:

• Dogged determination – never giving up

• A positive attitude – seeing the glass half full

• Not letting innocence, or perhaps naivety, give way to cynicism

• Being open to new experiences

• Having a clear idea of what you want

• Leaving the ‘attitude’ at home.

It’s actually not easy to blog when you have a good job, nice home, great relationship, and caring family – it’s either dull or saccharine-sweet. But we persevere – life always has its ups and downs!

Still, that doesn’t matter because it’s MY birthday – as an aside this makes me a Leo which is double-plus fantastic, and gives me the excuse of partying for a month as well – and as usual I have enjoyed myself immensely.

Roar.

400

2011-07-31T11:00:00.000+01:00

A typically lazy Sunday morning Chez Frumpella… I leave Fella lying in bed (he can sleep for Strumpetville that one) put on the coffee machine and go into the second bedroom/office/my den (what it’s rapidly becoming) to catch up on my reading, and my blogging. It’s a way of being lazy and not lazy. I read, I post, I catch up and slowly drift into the job search, studying, or prep for the week ahead my Sundays are about. When Fella emerges we may spend some time together before lunch. The afternoons he spends catching up with his TV (I’ve got him hooked on Star Trek!), and I get on with my own thing, maybe go out for some shopping. Later we’ll spend more time together, perhaps put on a film or do some gardening and so the chilled day wends into the evening, a nice dinner and back to bed.

That is the life of the domesticated Cheerful Fairy. A thoroughly pleasant life it is too. 400 posts in, and we can safely say our journey is by and large complete.

400 posts. There will be more of course; much remains to be done – civil partnerships and kids/not kids and all manner of future challenges. But no more for finding Mr Right or Mr Right-Now.

No more for coming out either. But then I’m still not fully into gay culture; film, books, etc. Lots to see and read and discuss.

Nevertheless, I can confidently post this: I am, perhaps for the first time, living my own life on my own terms. Not living in a shell of someone else’s devising; not trying to live up the expectations of others; not trying to follow the herd . Nothing to hide behind, but then no longer trying to hide.

Where next then? You see gentle reader, it is difficult to compose scintillating prose when one is resolutely ordinary. But I like diarising out loud if you will, so I’m not done with blogging yet.

I clearly had something quite different in mind when I started this blog; but it quickly became something of far more use and led of itself to meeting some wonderful people. It chronicles my three great affairs, and the lesser passing fancies – too numerous to recall even if I cared to.

A lot of water under the bridge. Thank goodness there is so much more to look forward to…

Des and Troy

2011-07-25T21:29:00.000+01:00

Youth and beauty… those are the name of the big gay game, no? Well, that and having a great big… zest for life.

Well, I’ve been working on the youth and beauty thing and notwithstanding my inability to turn back the hands of time I think I’m doing OK.

As always, it is through others I seek my validation… and after quite while of dieting and exercising things have started to happen.

Yes gentle reader – it is true. People have begun the rippling gorgeousness of the Cheerful Fairy. I mean – wow. Who would have thought it? Here I am – being complemented on my hard work by other gay men!!!

I guess it first started when we were in the cottage in Herefordshire and the other gay man, apart from me and Fella (he deserves a greater epithet than gay-man#3 to be fair, but needs must), commented on my nice arms. Me! Putting on a gun show, eh?

Since then I’ve had colleagues comment on how much weight I’ve lost, and friends on how buff I’m becoming. Well, my vanity needs little feeding to grow and grow, so I take it all with a pinch of salt but I must admit it is nice in particular to get noticed by other gayers.

I’ve lost about 7 lbs (3kg) but I’ve been doing lots of weights alongside my running and swimming, and I must admit it is a huge motivator to know it’s paying off.

Alright… maybe it’s a bit wrong of me to subscribe even in part to the more superficial aspects of gay life. But, after many years of just not looking after myself as part of my closeted life; and then to get so ill and to lose so much weight that is regained as, basically, lard… I’m quite proud of myself and – frankly – being an introvert the confidence boost is appreciated.

On Wednesday I’m going, alone, to gay networking event in Soho called Village Drinks and I would never DREAM of going there unless I felt in some way I could hold my own.

I’m going to keep working on my figure until I go back to college in October – only a few short weeks to get as much out of myself as possible. After that I will maintain my improvements, but can’t realistically go to the gym six times a week, attend classes, do my homework and work.

Speaking as someone who likes his carbs and it engaged to a world-class chef getting to this stage has not been easy. And the time limits mean I can’t lose too much weight. But the object is not to be a muscle-mary or try and be the twink I never was. It’s to feel good about myself. And to have everyone in Strumpetville feel good about me too!

The Big Day

2011-07-21T20:24:00.001+01:00

Aint nothing like a summertime wedding in Strumpetville gentle reader. The big day came and went without a hitch, the weather was perfect and the location divine. For something organised in only four months it was a masterpiece.

Sadly, it was not MY wedding, no. Rather that of my brother-in-law S to his now wife… Mrs S.

Fella and I suspect the whirlwind wedding of Mr and Mrs S was due in part to our impending nuptials (or at least an impending bun in the oven)… but no matter, I wish them all the very best. Off in sunny Paxos for their honeymoon, now.

The wedding itself was at Kew Gardens, which is a place I adore. We had free entrance to the gardens on the day; the ceremony was in Cambridge Cottage while the reception was in the Princess of Wales gardens – a very nice venue indeed.

Some of the most interesting people I met were Fella’s friends, one of whom is Mr S’s boss, a gay couple who have been together about nine years. It was nice to get to know another established – even more established – gay couple outside our current circle (as it were).

The most important part of the day (apart from the nuptials) was that this was for Fella and by extension me a family affair. One of the things I was a little concerned about was meeting all of the family. As a fiancé one is in and not in the family – and as a GAY fiancé, well one’s status is all the more uncertain.

Nevertheless I was, as always, made to feel totally welcome – even posing in the family only pictures. No pressure then… definitely have to make my relationship work, or those photos are ruined!! Actually, it was very nice to be included and to be so accepted by everyone. Even Fella’s 89 year old grandmother! I hope when it comes to our civil partnership (or any other event), my family will be as accepting of him.

Since Fella has been complaining to his friends about not having an engagement ring – he had one prepared when he proposed – so I have decided it’s time to get him on; well, in time for his birthday in September… so plenty more to blog about in due course…

In the meantime Fella’s mother continues well enough. She did rather dwell on her prognosis at the wedding until Fella gently stopped her and suggested it might not be the day for it. In a rather touching gesture Mr and Mrs S asked, as a wedding gift, for people only to donate to a charity for MS sufferers. The plans for our own marriage will need to revolve in part around her, and that in turn means keeping a totally open mind about timing, venue, honeymoon etc…

Well, that is the way it needs to be. Seeing how well it can be done fills me with confidence. And being included and welcomed by the family fills me with great happiness.

Wedding Plans

2011-07-02T20:43:00.000+01:00

We've had a bit of bad luck recently, Fella and I. I mean, in the last week, we've been robbed; my laptop completely packed up, taking with it everything from my holiday photos to my CV (I have a shiny new one now though :-) ); part of the bathroom ceiling fell in for reasons best known to itself...

Sadly the worst thing is Fella's mother has been diagnosed with inoperable cancer. She has suffered with MS for a while, and has had problems in that area because of that for a while. So no-one took any notice of the jaundice and the weight loss until it was too late. Liver cancers tend to be inoperable and are peculiar in that chemotherapy doesn't work on them. The treatment is a transplant, but you can't give immuno-suppressants to someone with MS so that's out. Recently a range of wonder-drugs have come on the market that will ensure her liver continues to function and may co-incidentally shrink the tumour. But even under ideal circumstances a primary liver tumour has a less than 20% survival rate after a year.

In Fella's mother's case they are talking two years but knowing this illness I wonder if six to nine months is nearer the mark. Dark I know but Fella and his family are dealing with this in perhaps a very English upper middle-classed way. Putting the best possible gloss on it, changing the subject, and having a nice cup of tea.

What I wanted to post about, gentle reader, was how Fella and I are advancing our wedding plans. Perhaps post a picture of the post-it notes covering the back wall of our second-bedroom cum home-office. Perhaps my tentative day dreams on what to put on my our wedding list.

Instead, our plans are in disarray. I do not complaint, of course; the circumstances cannot be helped. But what we really are looking at is getting wed very quickly, perhaps in the next few weeks - or months.

In the separate-but-equal* world of marriage we have in Strumpetville a civil partnership can be entered into without even being in the same room - one fills in a form, the other fills in his at a time convenient to him (or her of course). No ceremony required though the government has helpfully handed down a "form of words" if we really must. The logistics of the thing would be relatively simple. The issue at hand of course is getting CPd for the right reasons, at the right time. Our reasons for going for May 2013 were simply - where we met, when we met, but after my masters is finished (it was tiresomely short-sighted of love to come during exam season). Both of those options would be sacrificed...

Am I reluctant to hurry into a CP? Yes. Especially because of someone else, regardless of the tragedy. Because a long engagement suited me. Because what happens next when you are married - mortgages and pensions and the like - I'm just not prepared for.

But here we are, in a world or turmoil. Once we have a detailed prognosis and we can be sure whatever we do meets Fella's mother's needs and capabilities, we can make our decision. Still, I do want to make sure it is right for us too and that I think - deciding what is for the best for him will really be hard for Fella.

Pornocracy

2011-06-27T22:48:00.001+01:00

Porn. Well, on that front there’s so much to say and so little. I’ve never bought a jazz mag or a blue movie. On the other hand God knows, the internet saw me through some very tough times in the early naughties before I got the balls to come out.

It taught me a thing or two too. Opened my mind as well as my eyes… some people are very open about their pornographic predilections, but not me. Friends at school always boasted of their collection under-the-bed. Childish snooping found my father’s secret stash too. When Fella and I moved in I was quite surprised by the volume of material he brought with him – gifts apparently. Popular guy.

I am writing this post because it occurred to me quite by chance that the things I have gravitated to when I have watched porn are quite different to the things I have gravitated to in real life. I won’t go into details… but I realised there was no particular reason, within reason that is, why that should be so.

Pornography is for gay people an important expression of sexuality. I’ve heard it contended that for gay men a health obsession with pornography is quite essential. Sex is after all… what we do.

I wonder if perhaps sex is how we compete. Well, of course we do in one sense – the evolutionary impulses behind our sex drives are not diminished by the accident of our sexuality. But it is more than them there straight people a yardstick by which we measure ourselves. Sex by any other name… perhaps there is an over emphasis on youth and beauty in the gay world. Still, I’ve been going to the gym a lot more since I came out than before. So, for me it isn’t all bad.

In one sense it isn’t a gay thing – it’s a male thing. Without the brake of the female acting to control us, why would we exercise self control?

The answer must be a zen thing or similar. To win the game, get out of it… God, the hours I’d waste trawling through Gaydar or a similar site. The secret is not to take it all so seriously. There’ll always be someone better looking, more promiscuous, kinkier, bigger… you can run the race, but ask yourself: who set out the course? And what is the prize?

Great sex, learning about yourself, meeting amazing people, exploring your desires… all of these things are important elements (or at least, gentle reader, they were to me ; I might be talking bollocks in more than one way here) to growing into a gay man’s gay identity. But when they’ve helped you become a well rounded tired-but-happy gay man what comes next?

You win the game. You find your Fella. And then you move in together and then… the game begins again. Level 2!

Sit-Rep

2011-06-23T21:32:00.000+01:00

Where we at Gentle Reader? All in all, not too bad – for me, at least, and I hope for you too... I’ve lost 7lbs (about 3kg) and am running 5k six days a week to keep on that trajectory (and enjoy the odd glass of wine or three). The rest of the family are all well; Fella’s career development scheme, run by his workplace, is doing wonders for him. The fish has proven indestructible – and she’s grown. Soon we’ll have to get her a new home! And Morag (the car, named after the great aunt of a woman we met in the pub, naturally) has managed to assert her personality without any death or destruction (her oh-so-hilarious tendency to slip into reverse when we’re stopped at a junction notwithstanding) so far.

We’re renewing the lease on our apartment, as we are very happy here. The balcony is blooming, literally, and Fella’s lettuces, pumpkins, and tomatoes are doing well (even though we lost some of our crop to black-fly).

Family and friends – all is well, or as well as can be expected.

That leaves my work. Or job.

Admin assistant; complaint handler; case worker; case manager; project manager; business manager. That’s quite a career, over 15 years. I think I’ve done well, and it pleases me roles have come my way based on my merit instead of some kind of career plan on my part.

Now that’s changing. Not my merits – at least I hope not. Now I need to look forward, and plan my career. Things are tighter now than I’ve ever really known in my adult life; and in addition I have responsibilities what with a fiancé and all...

Committing to a career plan is a little bit like committing to a sexuality; for me anyway. A scary jump I should've done years ago. It isn’t closing doors; it’s identifying the best possible opportunities. So, after a shade over a year in my current role, I’ve decided what I want to ‘do’ – ultimately I want to be a chief of staff or equivalent for a large, high profile, national public sector (or at least charitable) organisation. I want to be there in eight years or so.

It’s not too much to ask; two promotions or so; I’m 33. In eight years I will be 41. Whilst I have not had my 40 therapy yet, I’m due to retire at 67 ½... a long time to coast along. Still, throw a couple of non-executive directorships into the mix and... ;-)

I’m passionate about three key areas of healthcare, the area that has become (for better or worse) my field – mental health, sexual health, and patient engagement. If I’m lucky I’ll be able to contribute to those areas in a real, meaningful way. And where I am now has really opened my eyes to where and what I want to be.

So that’ll be me for a while; trying to make that next step. In the meantime, to balance that out, I will be trying hard to be a better friend (as always, as always) and perhaps I’ll think of something very nice to do for my fiancé.

Curiosity killed the cat

2011-06-12T18:01:00.002+01:00

I came across this image on a website I stumbled across recently - Equalitopia (link in my blog list)

It maps the responses given to a dating website to the question "have you ever had a sexual encounter with someone of the same sex?". I wonder how much the results represent the social acceptability of homosexuality, rather than truthful responses to the question. Unless they have a great nightlife in Louisiana... one the other hand they clearly know how to make the long winter nights fly by north of the border. O' Canada indeed!

Once apon a time

2011-06-02T21:44:00.000+01:00

Where am I at with my life? I’m approaching the end of my exam season, studying in the evenings after work, going to the gym before I start in the office, and generally juggling a hefty workload when I’m there.

The thing is: so what?

Gentle reader, tell me truly: am I... dull?

I watch Battlestar Galactica and Dr Who and the occasional film. We have friends round for dinner, or we visit them. Sometimes we go to art galleries or the theatre. I tend the plants in my little garden. I read, when I have a chance (Matter by Iain M Banks is the current volume).

I work in an office. I go to the gym. My parents are divorced. I am engaged.

Funny how getting everything you worked for sometimes seems a bit... disappointing.

Coming out immeasurably improved my life, and my experiences over the last three years have been fantastic. In many ways it’s a shame they have come to an end. Now the Cheerful Fairy is an ordinary ‘mo, and it’s sometimes a bit sad not to be special.

I’ve never been a people person, nor particularly creative (as maybe perhaps you have noticed??). I get away with it by being OK looking, and reasonably bright. Introvert that I am, I look at the outgoing social types with a mixture of envy and dull incomprehension. The gay stereotype of the flamboyant creative actor type with a large circle of friends and a party lifestyle... well, it’s hardly ever true but it’s still out there, weighing down on my inadequacies so I feel them all the more.

Three of the most important lessons I have learned are:

• keep positive;

• taking a chance is never wrong;

• coming out was a really good thing to do.

But now I need some inspiration. I really have to make some changes.

Fella is fine; I genuinely couldn’t hope for more and I’m not stupid enough to throw away a good thing when I’ve got it – unlike International and those that came before him HA!

I’m thinking about the future, and have a detailed career plan forming in my head; I know I want to be with Fella and I know what’s going to happen by and large in my personal life. But overall I can’t help wondering what’s missing – or perhaps more accurately what I need to replace the excitement I had over the last three years.

I’m not dissatisfied with my life, quite the reverse. But I want to think about a big change. Changing career, moving to the other side of the world (Fella permitting). It’s just – what?? Inspiration, inspiration, inspiration... I’ll let you know when I get it,

Anniversary

2011-05-16T22:55:00.000+01:00

This is all written in the future tense as I am late publishing... hope it still makes sense!

Who would have thought it? Two years for me and Fella. Halfway to our civil partnership, in fact.

Well, on Sunday to be fair. To celebrate I have decided we will spend much of the afternoon on the Southbank – along the queen’s walk, attending a food fair, going to a photography exhibit, cocktails at Skylon, and then dinner on the Strand.

As a gift I bought Fella an antique cigarette box, and a fancy Zippo lighter (yes, he is an occasional smoker!). We’re not spending too much money this month as it has been an expensive month, what with the holiday and all.

The day itself will be quite light on activities because we will be attending a Eurovision party on the Saturday night before, and I want to allow for the possibility of overindulgence, plus I am sure we will want to enjoy the day in other ways.

Looking back over the last two years we have had quite a time. Living together, engaged, owning a car, visiting each other’s families. That’s quite a lot, especially compared to my dating days.

Of course we have had our ups and downs, and no doubt will continue to work through various issues, it has occurred to me how relatively smooth things have been for us. Still, it takes a lot of work – as it should – and not least because we hardly have any time, between the work, the studying, his career development and second job etc. One of our big struggles is to find time for each other.

...hence the plan for Sunday.

I suppose it’s positive that we complement each other so well in that we have different strengths and interests, although slowly they are merging. It reminds me a bit of my grandparents who after nearly 65 years of marriage have so refined their roles that each is entirely dependent on the other. One memory in two heads.

To be sure, there is plenty about us both that irritates the other. As it’s my blog, I’ll confine myself to things that irritate me about him (!): his slow driving; his inability to do any kind of DIY; the way he cries at any film. Well, that’s actually quite endearing. But don’t tell him I said so... Then there’s all the positives; he is beautiful, and kind, and generous, and a nice person.

Two years. There was a time when I never thought I would ever be in a LTR; but here we are. I’m quite proud overall. Of myself, and him, and us!

And we had a lovely time :-)

If I May

2011-05-07T16:18:00.002+01:00

“I have only one ambition in life: to achieve my many goals” - Homer Simpson

The beginning of May catches me in a despondent mood, gentle reader. It is exam season, plus post holiday poverty is biting, PLUS Fella and I are having home related nightmares in the things-falling-apart (expensively) sense.

Nevertheless, I like to think I’m the kind of person who looks at the positive side of things, light at the end of the tunnel etc.

So.... here we are a third of the way through the year and time to take stock.

Ambition. My first (post graduate) boss – so long ago we were allowed to smoke in the office, that’s how old the Cheerful Fairy is – called me ambitious. She was a scholar of English and she thought I didn’t get she was using the older, pejorative definition.

Well, I am ambitious. And stupid in a clever sort of way, and quite lazy in the sense delayed gratification was never my thing. Hence Hogzilla Hyde to the Cheerful Jekyll!

Why the downer on myself? No-one in all Strumpetville to blame but myself of course. Story of my life.

I really dislike letting myself down but as I’ve grown I recognise the symptoms and react to my own foolishness more speedily than before. As my current boss put it recently, I am “very self aware”.

What to do, then?

I have disparate ambitions indeed and it’s time to remind myself of the need to focus!

• Body I want to be thin and fit! I have a good body, but it’s wrapped in the products of booze and chocolate. Plus a stressful full life with an equally full social life does take its toll on the skin and hair of a mildly frumpy guy approaching his mid 30s. So – time to take care. Be healthy, dress well – no excuse for going out looking or being any less than my best.

• Mind I want to get the best possible degree I can, to show that I can – I mean, I have degrees and qualifications and a career and all sorts of things, but I never had to try before. And (as if that’s not enough) I want the assurance consciously addressing all the flaws I feel I have might being; the self confidence, I-am-right-after-all, beating the dissenting voice in my head...

• Soul I want to be a worthy fiancé! A better friend, bother, son... this is an area of my life of which you will have read little and with good reason. I am an introvert, but more than that I should stop using that as an excuse to take how lucky I am for granted.

So then what does good look like?

In a year’s time

• I will be sailing through my exams
• I will have been promoted
• I will have a toned body, dress better, have better skin and hair
• I will feel worthy of my friends
• I will have saved some (more) money

And this time you get to hold me to it!

Return to Strumpetville

2011-04-30T18:04:00.000+01:00

I’m back gentle reader, from my holiday to sunny Herefordshire. Managed to drive all the way there and all the way back without major incident – a definite plus.

The cottage we stayed in was lovely, and the weather we had was glorious. How towny we all are is shown by the fact we decided to walk to the nearest pub one night – and that walk took three hours. Indeed, a local farmer took pity on us and gave us a lift in the end.

There were seven of us in total, including me and Fella. Four straight women and three gay men. A combination that can have a great deal of fun, and perhaps inevitably watch a fair amount of gay porn.

Alongside the smut there were walks, canoeing, visits to picturesque towns, dinners out, nights in in-front of the fire, being chased out of fields by bulls... and just general relaxation.

Six of the seven of us are long-standing friends and we certainly were on top form – perhaps behaving a tad too disgracefully for the more refined and conservative tastes of the Welsh marches but I think a great time was had by all.

Now we’re back, and for me it is straight into exam season – my first is next Thursday. I was surprisingly good and did some studying each day on holiday but of course I feel as time draws on that I haven’t done enough. Fella will be a research degree widow for a wee while I fear.

What surprised me most was the gay porn thing. I never anticipated that would be a thing to bond over with the straight female ladies of the opposite gender. Certainly they were quite curious and the third gay man in the group – a housemate of one of the ladies, who in turn is a colleague of Fella – was happy to oblige (Fella didn’t really approve bless ‘im). I’m not sure they were prepared for the breadth of material on offer...

All in all, a group of friends disappearing off the grid for a week away together in a remote cottage has the makings of a decent horror film about it, but instead we had riotously good fun and I haven’t laughed like that for ages. I certainly don’t want to go back to work the week after next, and will certainly be thinking about my career options going forward.

Well, back to studying, back to my diet, back to work... back to reality. I am a little sorry for it, though the holiday was about the right length I think. Certainly I am looking forward to my next adventure, and soon!

Holiday!

2011-04-18T22:45:00.000+01:00

One down and one to go...

Last weekend Fella and I returned to sunny Cardiff, this time with good friends to visit friend ‘A’ and her fella for a weekend. It was tremendous fun, but my God I am getting a bit old for this kind of thing – we returned absolutely shattered. An excellent time was had by all, and ‘A’ and her man made a huge effort to make us welcome.

Next weekend we are getting into our blue car and driving with some friends back to Wales for a few days of more ethanol fuelled R&R – this time in the countryside where we can enjoy being away from it all and generally forget about the world.

I really need it too. I feel so much that I need a break from my life at the moment. This is just what the doctor ordered... a couple of weeks off work, get my exams out of the way; something like a new start.

Overall I think right now I am truly vile company at the moment. Stress, mainly by the sheer volume of work I have at the moment, but also things that have happened at work, has been overwhelming. In a Protestant-work-ethic/stiff upper lip sort of way I try to keep my head down and do a good job without complaining. I suspect my stress has manifested itself in many ways; and certainly today my boss made me aware of what may be a significant error on my part – a disordered agenda; disordered meeting papers. Drama.

Why do I know I need a holiday? I have made an error and by and large I don’t care. Oh my!

A holiday; a chance to relax; build up my strength for what comes next. A change is as good as a rest, they say – it really is time to get another job.

The friends we are going with are an eclectic bunch, but mostly people I have met through Fella. In Cardiff it was friends he met through me. The seven of us will drive in two cars out from London onto the motorway, then onto the A road, the B road and out to our cottage in the Welsh... Wales (I have no idea what the countryside is like around there – we could be walking into a horror film).

I have high hopes – to be candid, gentle reader, I’m pinning in no small part my (short term) future happiness on having a good time in Welsh Wales. Kayaking! Pub lunches! Badger stamping! All I really want to do is get away.

I really want to get away.

Three days to go...

I Want

2011-04-03T18:42:00.000+01:00

I’ve been writing this blog for three years now (can you believe it?!). In all that time I’ve focussed on meeting guy, looking for that significant other and having my fun along the way.

Actually getting that long term relationship has in many ways presented a more difficult transition than coming out. It means reconciling all the things I was doing with my life before I came out with my well established sexuality, and concentrating on life goals again wider than catching up with who I am.

It is actually a little surprising, in a nice way, that the end result of a fair amount of work, regret, trial and error is a perfectly ordinary life. I’m engaged. I have a car; a goldfish; an office based job.

But... ah yes there it is Gentle Reader, the but that prevents the Cheerful Fairy being truly cheerful.

I have had some real challenges in other areas of my life recently, primarily with work. At the end of March next year the organisation I work for will cease to exist, and as matters stand I will be made redundant. The job is really very challenging; running an office of about 30 people, many of whom are very senior, and supervising directly a significant proportion of the rest. Now, the organisation I work for has moved me from role to role when difficult projects needed someone with my dubious talent. My current role is, though, the first in a long time of business-as-usual. There’s a huge amount of work and I’ve needed to develop skills in a host of new areas... and to cut a long story short it is often unpleasant and difficult, requiring long hours working evenings and weekends just to keep up.

On the positive side I was promoted into the role based on my achievements elsewhere and I have achieved some significant successes, so it’s not all doom-and-gloom. And it has opened up a whole new career avenue, which is invaluable.

The key I think going forward, is to couch things in terms of what I want

Even writing it I hesitate, not wanting to come across as selfish – I have normally defined my career successes in terms of how well I have helped others. But there we are; it’s time to think about what I want.

So what do I want? Well, my inner project manager fairy recognises that have a defined job to do in a defined period with a defined resource is actually a fairly luxurious position to be in. I want, at the end of this financial year, to have achieved a very real cultural change where I work, including much more sophisticated programme management systems. I want to have undertaken range of training and development that positions me very well for future employment, and ideally promotion with it. And I want to have achieved a balance between my work and the other aspects of my life that will allow me to explore non-work related interests supporting my ambitions

Now, I’ve never had a long term relationship before but I know this is a normal juggling act; work and home. Between the demanding job, the studying, our social lives and last but not least supporting Fella’s own career development, there is little Us time. It would be nice to have the time to go on a date too once in a while 

Oh... and I’d like to win the lottery!

I’ve never been the kind of person to have a five year plan but I have tried to keep positive and see opportunities, so having a one-year plan is refreshing and will help me avoid getting bogged down in every-day troubles. And that really is what I want.

Spring

2011-03-31T17:02:00.000+01:00

Well, spring has sprung gentle reader. The days are getting longer, the flowers are blooming... all is well.

Yes, all is well. Fella and I have gone some good way to patching things up. For quite a while there I was ambivalent at best about our relationship but right now things are looking much more positive. To help cement this renaissance we did something we’d danced around for some time... we bought a car.

A blue Volkswagen golf, christened Morag, and proudly ensconced in our garage as a symbol of putting the past behind us.

The car will make it a lot easier for us; I have already planned the road-trip to visit my mother in Germany – no more silly baggage restrictions meaning we can’t take home some nice German wines, bring gifts etc. And we can make it scenic and touristy on the way. It also means I can go to the garden centre and get some proper, plants and soil for our large balcony, which will give me a chance to indulge my green fingers.

Plus, we are soon to go on holiday to a cottage in Wales with some friends, and the car will be invaluable for that too.

Yes, having a car is good.

Having a fiancé? Well, that’s OK too!

And spring is in the air...

Actually what I need to do is make some big changes. I think recent events are the culmination of a long slow build up of pressures in a variety of areas, and it’s time for me to address the fact that in some areas I am truly unhappy. Obviously when someone is unhappy in one area then it can impact on other areas of their life.

The two main areas are my work and my health; or more accurately my level of fitness. But the headline has to be Getting What I Want.

Focussing on that will mean less leaning on my relationship for support, or using the fact that I am trying to make a relationship work as an excuse to accept a whole load of crap. Our relationship will always require effort and work, naturally; but it doesn’t mean I should let the other areas slip – or do things by myself.

I’ll bog more over the next few posts about exactly that the problems are and how I want to tackle them. But on the positive side Fella and I continue well enough and that’s a good foundation to tackle the other things.

Speed Bumps

2011-03-20T20:07:00.000Z

Being relatively inexperienced at relationships, compared to people who are older or who came out sooner, it’s difficult to assess bumps in the road.

Nevertheless, I think on any criterion you might care to name, my relationship with Fella took a hell of a knock last week.

On Wednesday Fella went out with his work colleagues and had a few drinks. I myself had a hell of a trying day at work, and when work is trying it really gets to me.

I think, gentle reader, that set the scene pretty well?

Anyway, we ended up having a massive row. He had got it into his head that I found him boring, and the things we liked to do or talk about uninteresting. I made repeated attempts to reassure him but to no avail. I think this was the booze talking... be became increasingly belligerent and unwilling to accept my reassurances escalating his comments to a point where I felt the best thing to do was to leave him alone for a little while.

I went out. I came back. By the time I did, he’d packed his bags.

I’m not really the kind of person one should bluff with, it seems. You pack your bags, I’ll call you a taxi. Engagement ring returned, facebook status updated, the end. It’s over.

I then proceeded to get very drunk.

Then... the morning after the night before.

Fella was apologetic... he sent me messages telling me how much he loved me, but I wasn’t really in the mood to hear it. I wanted to know why he had behaved in the way he did; why he had to push it and push it. We talked; it broke the ice, but I remained sceptical.

The thing that won me over was when Fella told me the story of how he fell in love with me. I had always been... suspicious, in a way, of why Fella wanted to be with me. I don’t perceive in myself any qualities that would make me husband material. No-one else ever has either!

But there he was, telling me how he just wanted to date for a while but slowly and surely I won his heart and he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life at my side. That was a much more attractive scenario than being a boyfriend-shaped peg in a boyfriend-shaped hole.

We agreed to give it a go.

Since then – since then I have been somewhat depressed. I’m not going to pretend that this hasn’t changed our relationship, but it’s difficult to see how it can be the way it was. I can’t escape the feeling its a wounded animal, or damaged goods. Part of that is a reflection of the unattainably high standards I set for myself. I want my love to be perfect-and-forever love. Now it is publicly and embarrassingly human. What a let down.

When with others rows and upsets were par for the course; part of the rich tapestry of all my boyfriendettes. But with Fella it is different. I loath rowing with him, and always promise myself that it won’t happen again. I’m not that easy to get on with, it seems.

Yet somehow I can’t let it be.

So here we are. Time will tell what happens next. I don’t really know. Perhaps next time I blog I’ll be in a more positive mood. We shall see.

Census

2011-03-15T21:42:00.000Z

Being an introverted and nerdy Fairy I took great delight in completing our census forms.

This is the second time I have completed the forms, and when I was posting the paperwork back I began to ponder the last ten years and how things have changed.

Where was I ten years ago?

I was in the middle of totally loving my first job since graduating. It paid next to nothing and I shortly after left because there was nowhere for me to go... but it was great. In those days I smoked and back then you could still – just – smoke in the office.

The office also had its own rather extensive wine cellar – it was, and is, a regulatory body traditionally headed by a member of the House of Lords – so many is a time we wiled away the night in the boardroom making a dent in some worthy plonk.

There were a number of out gay men in the office, which never phased me at all. Thinking about it back then it must have been quite a bit more difficult to be an out gay man in the workplace. No legislation protecting you. Less widespread internet. Less able to be open about any relationship...

I didn’t dare go there, not much anyway; though there was at least one guy was interested. One of those boozy nights we did get down to our underwear... I remember around that time we went out for dinner too. But that was that. Silly me. Instead I embarked on an affair with a female colleague that was short-lived too. Obviously my heart wasn’t in it.

My home was a small one bedroom flat in east London, cheap as chips, and shared with mice and the occasional cockroach. I’d moved there after graduating – and in fact would continue to live alone until the week after I met Fella.

I had my internet connection, and boy was it an eye-opener. I was more nerdy then than I am now, so it was the perfect way to start to learn about who and what I am. I suppose that road if uninterrupted would have led to me coming to terms with my sexuality a bit sooner than I did. Sadly, partly – majorly – because of my neighbour in the flat below mine the process was interrupted. I do believe coming out is a process, rather than a big bang event. And it doesn’t always happen smoothly; or the same for everyone.

Truisms aside it was an interesting time to be alive and by and large I remember the time with great fondness. Who isn’t fond of being young? It certainly helped make me who I am today. Who knows, gentle reader, where I will be in 10 years’ time. And what I will be looking back on.

Up, up and away

2011-03-12T19:07:00.000Z

The up side to being in a relationship are fairly obvious. At its core there is the sharing. Chores, finances, bodies, fears... it helps get through the trials of life. I have great friends whom I adore and really don’t deserve; but when in a decent, loving relationship there is someone to talk to 24 hours a day, whether it be the most inane pet hates or ranting about a difficult day at work or... the most private and difficult thing.

If I didn’t have someone to come home to I think my life would be a lot worse. For an introverted science-type who lived alone since graduation that’s a hell of a thing. Good old Rule 14 is there for a reason – meeting guys, exploring my sexuality, especially the sexual side, was a lot of fun but sooner or later having no-one really there was... aging. Body and soul. And heart.

The downsides don’t really compare of course; I mean the only real downside to being in a relationship with the Cheerful Fairy is that Frumpella comes along for the ride!

I think it is important to consider the downsides all the same; otherwise I worry they assume in importance they don’t deserve and begin to take over my day to day feelings.

So what is there?

We have to guard against dullness, slipping into a rut/routine. It’s not really a downside that it takes effort to make it work; if it were, then we’d really be in trouble. But we need to also make the effort to be outward facing, keep up with our friends.

One potential downside is that we don’t have the freedom to socialise as if we were single; everything is in consultation. Can’t just stay out all night any more!

Another, though I’m not sure it’s really a downside, is the need to take the other half into account when planning for life in the round. Before Fella and I got together I could indulge in retail therapy to my heart’s content. Now, well it’s the wedding saving, being careful with money. Being sensible. I’ve worked for four organisations since I graduated; and only with my current role have I moved from one job with another to go to. Can’t afford that kind of whimsy in Strumpetville these days.

It’s difficult to find specific and terrible downsides to being with someone. The real issue is the need to be a bit more sensible and grown up [shudder]. Cardigans, wills and pensions, oh my. I’ve never really convinced myself that I’m much over 18; though I dimly realise I can’t really continue to act like I am half my age...

Yes, it is time to settle down. I suppose I started this blog precisely because that was the path I had set for myself. Being in a relationship is a tremendous up (when it’s the right one), and if there are a lot of downsides, then... well, gentle reader, it’s not the right relationship, or the right time to be in one.

La Soiree

2011-02-27T23:43:00.000Z

Tonight Fella and I took in a show, and what a show it was. Originally it was a group of us who meant to go, get a booth, some champagne... but we never got it together. Still, Fella and I fancied a bit of cabaret; a bit of theatre; a bit of burlesque. So why not?

Burlesque it was indeed, La Soiree. The last night in town... if they didn't put on a special show, well, then their standard is high indeed.

Fella and I had ringside seats, front row. Not because we booked then; we were picked. It being the last night, there were a fair number of photographers recording the event. It sometimes pays to be engaged to a simply gorgeous guy :-)

What a view. Acrobatics, cabaret, comedy, magic, puppetry, and... delightful stimulation. The highlight of the evening was when Fella was dragged up on stage to be a dancing boy in a rip-off of Cabaret. All in all, however, there was nothing that detracted from a thoroughly good evening. If you have friends, gentle reader, as good as mine you will have had many nights when your face aches from laughter; well, it was that kind of show. My hands, too are raw from applause.

It is quite interesting, the effect it has had on us both. I think alongside the humour, and discomfort, and the amazement indeed, we have been reminded of the possibilities of our bodies; and at a time when it is not too late [perhaps] to push our boundaries. I have recently joined a new gym, and tonight helped perhaps helped focus my mind on precisely why.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't spend my evening legs crossed and hunched over. My God there was plenty of eye-candy indeed, but for all the hot hot hottentot hotties it opened more my eyes to my situation than my... disposition to be loved.

When I was very young and first set my feet apon the shore of this sceptered isle, I discovered the worlds beyonnd this world and my course the 15 years thereafter was set. Tonight this show absorbed me to the same extent; a rare thing indeed. More often than not I sit outside of things watching events unfold and picking my moment to interact, to join in. But not with this.

La Soiree will join us in Strumpetville again toward the end of 2011... look out for it if you're around.

81 words

2011-02-22T21:10:00.000Z

Recently I joined the LGBT society at my place of work. It's only a small group, some peoople I know, and some people I don't. It's a nice group, and we socialise from time to time which is a nice way of meeting new gay people.

As February is LGBT month and in the light of new equalities legislation that includes sexuality amoing gender, religion, age etc as one of the areas in which people have legal protection, the lead of the group put on a recording of '81 words' as one of the events for the History month.

81 words is the story of how in 1973 the American Psychiatric Association declassified homosexuality as a mental illness. It was a very good programme, and well worth listening too. It is quite high-level, so it doesn't go into a great deal of depth. But the narrator is the granddaughter of the Association's president, who himself came out as gay when he was in his 70s.

The programme can be downloaded, or you can read a transcript at http://www.abc.net.au/rn/allinthemind/stories/2007/1992653.htm

The history of homosexuality is very interesting to me, as I'm a history buff and partly because I'm cheerfully a fairy. Although it doesn't go into great detail the programme discusses people welcoming homosexuality's' classification as a mental illness, because before it was considered a crime against God.

It reminded me of a previous discussion that noted the relative sexual permissiveness of modern catholic countries over the secular protestants. This was ascribed to the scientific revolution of evolution and biology (amongst the other sciences) that made sex about reproduction and thus homosexuality aberrant. In catholic countries the balance between god and gonads gave gays a bit of a breathing space. I know that's a gross over-simplification but it strikes me as a counter-culture to the evolution of my sexuality from sin to sickness to normal life.

The programme is well worth a listen, gentle reader - at least I think so. Let me know what you think too.

The demon drink

2011-02-19T18:55:00.000Z

You will recall, gentle reader, that the thing (apart from my quiet inability to manage any relationship) that brought Fella and I closest to breaking up was his drinking. Without refreshing too many dark memories, there were plenty of occasions where the night was spoiled by Fella drinking himself into unconsciousness.

It wasn't just the drinking per se, it was the risk he put himself, and sometimes me, at by being out of control. Sometimes, sadly, it just isn't safe for a gay man to be totally arseholed with drink. If he of we can't run away from danger, then the consequences don't bear thinking about it.

Now, after an incident when I was attacked at home I turned to the bottle quite heavily, but that wore off as time went on. Still, I can understand the draw of drink if you’re fragile or if, like Fella, you have a mental health problem. But, the reality is, I’m not a saint and I’m still not sure I could cope with a destructive influence in my life like a partner with a dependency.

We came close the breaking point, he and I, dealing with this issue. Friends counselled me in a variety of options. ‘A’ suggested alcoholics anonymous, as partners can find it helpful too. I seriously considered it.

He promised he would do anything to keep us together, and in many respects he has been as good as his word. The bargain we struck was that if he behaved himself on social occasions he could drink as much as he likes at home. And that is broadly what has happened.

You asked recently how he is managing on the booze. There’s no easy way to spell it out; he probably puts away 150 units a week; the recommended maximum for men in 28 (I think). So he drinks an awful lot. But he manages it. He never misses work; he doesn’t stay up into the early hours drinking the place dry; he gets plenty of sleep and eats his meals. Some days he chooses not to drink at all. So... good then [?].

Not perfect, not by a long way. But this is Fella, who wants to build a life with me, build his career, live and enjoy his life. He’s a heavy drinker – but thinking as I type I realise the distinction between someone who happens to drink a lot and someone who behaves destructively. And being able to make that distinction helps me see the problems we had are solved.

The biggest challenge for me, where we are now, is keeping my own consumption at a reasonable level. With my ongoing struggle to get my weight down and my health up, plus the sheer demands placed on my time by work and study. The next biggest challenge is vigilance, as I find it difficult still to trust him to control himself in social situations.

Nevertheless, Fella made the effort and he did it for me. How could I do anything other but love and appreciate him for it? It’s hard to imagine anyone else I’ve been with making one-hundredth of the changes he makes for me, without demanding a lot in return. You see how lucky I am?

Valentine's

2011-02-09T21:26:00.000Z

Our second Valentine is coming up – it’s amazing how time flies. Last year I was more with it and organised a dinner out for us in Soho... but this year a number of factors have kept me off my game, not least my own lack of time management! However, I have managed to pull off a minor coup in that Fella thinks I will be at college on Monday night, but in fact we have the night off (half term) so I can surprise him with...

Well, something! Not sure what yet, because the plan is for us to dine at home. Unfortunately my first project, worth 12.5% of my degree, is due that day so this weekend I’ll frantically be writing up a research proposal – to show I can, before the big dissertation next year.

Work is insanely busy at the moment and so difficult I feel that I’m experiencing a significant personality change, in the sense I have to be much more assertive of my prerogatives and perspectives; demanding of others; and firm when confronted with unreasonable behaviour. Normally, big gay introvert that I am (while sober) I self effacingly tolerate a fair bit, mainly because throwing my toys out of my pram doesn’t seem like a win. I am perhaps blessed in that I can see two, three steps ahead. My experience is many cannot.

Anyway, between the job that sees me take work home some evenings and weekends, my college life, my attempts to get fit (gym, swimming, running 8k twice a week) a social life and domestic drudgery (it can be a hard life in Strumpetville, gentle reader) spending quality time with my man is hard – we probably spend less time together than we did when he lived outside London!

I’m neglecting too much I think. Our relationship is solid, because Fella understands these two years will be tough and it’s not as if we aren’t planning for the longer term. I mean my friends, myself – healthy and hard working which I like, but no me time (important for an introvert), no lie-in at the weekend, no reading for reading’s sake... And of course when I’m tired I find it difficult to listen to Fella about his day and talk to him about the things he likes to talk about, which makes me feel a bit guilty. He tends to be the one who cooks dinner, deal with the groceries, be the drudge (!)

So, then I suppose I need to find something rather special for Valentine’s this year. Absent the restaurant context, the mind is focussed on what else there is – and with the opportunity to surprise...

Flowers... gifts... champagne. What will it be? Well, I must think! Perhaps inspiration will come in a dream. Or from somewhere! Any ideas?? Either way, I’ll let you know.

Awkward

2011-01-31T23:06:00.000Z

Gay! Sex!! Blog!!! Why, it's yetanothermore blog that strays from the cerebellum to the bedroom... but as always, gentle reader it is/is not what you expect.

Busy busy cheerful fairy ever, Fella and I social butterflies of Strumpetville, were with eight or so friends in the Black Prince in Kennington, enjoying a lovely lunch and a boozy afternoon that became, as these things will, more lively, bawdy and entertainingly frisky. Each of us was prompted to ask a question that others must, but must, answer candidly.

Example: what is the most bizarre inanimate object you have introduced into your sex life? Answer: electric toothbrush [don't ask - and you'll never guess ;-) ].

So, then; round and round it goes, where it stops nobody knows. Where it stops is, it turns out:

"What is the greatest number of people you have slept with in a day?"

Ah. Fella: X, the ladies round the table: Y, the other gay men: Y plus one or two. But for me it's XX.

So, the Cheerful fairy becomes a coward once more and in grand defiance of this URL declines to answer.

Ah.

XX isn't X by X... except now I think of it, it is. And the whole point of this, before it begins to look like I'm bragging, is - this is the first time I have been reticent about my sex life. I mean, coming out and exploring my sexuality publicly, as it were, is/was something I am very proud of.

God only knows I kept International coming back by using my well learned tricks. Then again that was a relationship based on sex [which perhaps, this is why I never cried that much about it]. But with Fella we have of course something more and less. Madonna-Whore-gay? Well, it is and it isn’t. An active and varied sex life is an important part, crucial even, of my... life. But I have a certain reticence about it. I don’t think it’s classy to talk about it.

Anyway, the thing about it is this. I like what I like(d) and while that’s not on the table that doesn’t mean I really want to brag in front of my fiancé that I have enjoyed my groups, parties and other events. Group sex is my favourite thing. BUT I don’t mind giving it up. I remember it fondly, to be sure, but with Fella there is something else. And it is a good thing.
So... is it prurient reticence? Embarrassment? A sense of maturity even ethanol cannot dissolve? Dunno. I suppose as relationships emerge and evolve one’s attitude to one’s attitudes and remembrances evolve too. What was good becomes awkward; memories gain a new hue. But I think it’s important not to neglect how being gay can radically change even when you are properly gay, and quite unexpectedly too.

Wedding Plans

2011-01-20T20:35:00.000Z

Save the date, Gentle Reader, for Fella and I are to be married on 15 May 2013. Where? St James’s Church Piccadilly. And afterward, we honeymoon in the Maldives or the Seychelles. The guest list is going to be 60 or so people, and the total cost will be about £5,000.

There, that was easy...

As a project manager I’m dealing with a lot of the arrangements, though Fella will no doubt have a strong contribution when it comes to the aesthetics, the music, that kind of thing; his forte. I myself am less a bride than a potential bridezilla. The day itself doesn’t excite me too much yet, though that may change... the state of nuptial bliss tantalises me more.

Why? Well, it’s simple – 15 May is when we met, so we thought it would make a nice choice of date. St James’s is the place we met, and I’ve always wanted to have a nice luxurious indulgent holiday in a lovely spot like those islands... As for the year. 50% is because my exam are that period in 2011 and 2012, 40% is because I will have cleared all my debts by then and saved up enough to start us off properly, and 10% is bet hedging.

Yes, gentle reader, risk management relationship-stylie. We’ve been together 20 months, but the wedding will be the fourth anniversary of our meeting and that gives us plenty of time to grow, adapt, and yes if need be change our minds. Bad fairy? You decide!

I strongly believe gay people should have the same rights as straight people; but I also spy the advantage of homosexuality in not having to follow the cultural traditions of mortgage-marriage-children-death... so, all things being equal, I’m fine with marriage, or more accurately civil partnership or without it. But here we are, and it is a good thing we plan to do.

One thing that does get me is the civil partnership aspect. It’s kind of a separate-but-equal kind of marriage. And “oh... if you MUST” kind of deal. And that does get to me slightly. Firstly, I don’t like the idea of my rights being handed down to me by anyone. No-one gets to decide what my rights are until I start infringing on the rights of others. And marriage simply doesn’t do that.

Also, the status of civil partnerships varies from country to country. In Germany, for example, a ‘registered partnership’ would not give us the same tax status as married straight couples; we would not legally be allowed to adopt (though single gay people may, bizarrely) and we would not have final say in medical cases, say a living will or organ donation, over our respective families. This is an issue given my German lineage.

Still, I am confident that things will get better and with vigilance these distinctions will erode. And anyway the whole point is to build a life together, where I can spend my days making Fella happy for as long as he wants me

So roll on 2013...

Being Together

2011-01-10T21:14:00.000Z

What is it, this being together? For an angst ridden yet cheerful fairy like my good self it is a pertinent question. Right now my man is smoking a cigarette. Our TV service is paused awaiting his return – so he can finish making my dinner, to be fair – and I am stretched out on my sofa, laptop on top of lap, drafting this post.

We have spent most of the day, he and I, in separate rooms because we’re both doing job applications. There are worse reasons to be in separate rooms of course... me and Fella recently were in Separate Rooms over his totally unreasonable bed hogging about which I am entirely blameless of course ;-)

Togetherness has of course has a more long-term connotation; as you have read this blog for a while gentle reader, you will know togetherness is the very bedrock of my sexuality. Either fleeting or, more recently, permanent. But... yes, as always that angsty but... how forever is forever?

At some point, diet and exercise notwithstanding, time will slip out of my tired hands e’re everlong I hold onto Fella’s... and as my damned soul slips off to Hell (for 97 reasons of which being gay is not even in the top 10 – in your face Pope) it will slip off alone. Fella will not be with me in that tunnel of light.

So what then? Better to be alone and await the endless sponge baths from that hot male nurse? Better to live life with your love, I think. Not quite for the moment. We are on the path of marriage and all that entails (I may even be sensible and make a will, take out life-insurance oh yes!).

But then there’s being together. I mean, what’s it about? It’s difficult to maintain the right balance of together and apart; not suffocating each other with demands for attention, and not being so distant that we have completely separate lives. One of the nice things about living together is that we aren’t confined to a timetable – we can be together or apart when we like. For the rest of our lives I think there’s still a lot of learning to do, about what being together and the right balance of intimacy and independence really are. We could be looking at 60 years, with or without the sponge baths.

Perhaps being together is developing those rituals and shared routines that mark out two lives increasingly lived as one; knowing the value of the moments we spend together so that working in separate rooms, me studying in the evenings or having to work late aren’t causing any grief. Either way I think we’re getting there. I can almost feel our relationship maturing and I’m learning to take the rough edge off all my worries. Whatever it means, I’m not sure I can define “being together” easily or exactly. But I look forward ot keeping on learning; and learning how best to keep him happy. After all, if together is on one side of the equation surely the other has to be happiness, no?

Resolutions

2011-01-01T17:17:00.000Z

Well it's that time of year gentle reader. A New Year in fact. So time for some resolutions.

Where to begin? Well, there's plenty that needs improving! But there is in all things the art of the possible... so where to begin?

1) Health. I've had the damn gym membership for six month - and people have complemented me on the use of it, but I need to do it more regularly. Because I was ill for such a long time my weight went up and down quite a lot and I am, now I can actually digest what I eat, pushing the boundaries of overweight. So, my stomach having more farewell tours than Cher... but back on the diet again. Hey, I'm still 22 lbs below my maximum weight in 2008...

2) Appearance. I'm 34 - I can't get away with wearing just anything any more. Plus I'm well paid, and (1) notwithstanding I'm not some freakish homunculus shambling along frightening small animals and children. I should pay more attention to what I choose to wear. Fella is very good at clothes; I never have been though I don't dress badly. Plus, what the hey, I am gay - so I can enjoy pampering myself and making the best of what I am blessed with. Manicures, facials and exfoliated oh my!

3) Money. I've made quite a good start on saving, but it is likely I will be made redundant in April 2012. And that means yet another call on my money, in terms of saving more. Well, as (1) means less booze there's a saving there... though (2) might negate that. Anyway, in general frugality will be the watchword for 2011.

4) Studying - one term down, and so far so good. But a research degree isn't taught so much as studied and my innate laziness and talent for procrastination will no doubt mean all-nighters and last minute panic if I'm not careful. As my experience with my first essay taught me... This of course means being more disciplined; and that sadly means forcing myself not so spend time with Fella :-(

Yes, living together can have that down side - if we were apart then we would spend time apart. Fortunately Fella is not a morning person so getting up early on the weekends covers most of my needs. Still, ruthlessness and a good alarm clock are the way forward!

5) Working. It's time to look at my career options, what with April 2012 looming. Get serious, cheerful fairy! I must, must, think about the gaps in my CV and opportunities I want to explore to make me the bestest of the bestest fairy. I've done a lot in my current role, but the main problems are solved, things are running smoothly enough that bureaucracy is my biggest problem... and I'd rather not coast over the finish line.

So where does this take me? I suspect I come across as some wannabe narcissistic superman - but no. I don't want to let myself down, or anyone else. There's my Fella to look after, and the wedding the plan for. I want stuff too of course, but my self-esteem is bound up more in what other people see in me than perhaps it ought - and my self confidence needs boosts like the above! So, justification done, resolutions done, happy New Year. Here goes!

In-Laws

2010-12-31T18:31:00.000Z

The in-laws are an unusual bunch. I suppose anyone’s in-laws will be unusual to them; it is, after all, another family – part of the package when you are planning to be marriaged to your significant other.

One of the things that strikes me about having in-laws (or soon to be in-laws) is the ordinariness of it. It never occurred to me that coming out I would end up having a normal life. Indeed, one of the things holding me back was the – entirely baseless – fear of losing that option. And part of coming out was recognising that, firstly, it was possible and secondly an ordinary life wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be anyway.

So things have come full circle and now it’s time to concern myself less with fashion and fitness and blowjobs, and more with marriage, mortgages and... in-laws.

We spent Christmas with them, as we did last year. Fella’s parents had recently moved from the house where he had lived with them to a new place that they’re still settling into. We travelled up on Christmas eve and came back on 27th. Three days... all dictated by the train timetable. Next year we ARE getting a car! Fortunately this year we were allowed to share a room so that’s certainly progress. All in all it was nice to get away and relax for a bit; nice to get cooked for, nice to get some loot!

Fella’s mother is very religious, which can be awkward... but as she suffers from MS can also be problematic logistically. She’s fiercely intelligent and adores Fella, and fortunately she and I get on vey well, so I’m more concerned about her health than her religion. Fella’s father is a world-class grouch, and he turned 65 over the Christmas break so was more cantankerous than usual. Again, we get on rather well though I secretly think him very hard on Fella. Still, since we’ve been together Fella’s relationship with his dad has improved markedly so that is a benefit.

Well, we survived, and we’re back home preparing for a quiet New Year at home. I hope the above doesn’t read with too much bad grace. Having in-laws is quite an unexpected side-effect of my relationship. It’s quite pleasant actually, and as always I do realise I’m lucky (honest, gentle reader) and we’re lucky, in that we have families that accept us and that we can do something as mundane as schlep up to visit them at Christmas time. Most years.

I hope you had a great Christmas gentle reader; and a Happy New Year!

Plenty of Fish

2010-12-22T22:37:00.000Z

Below is Gypsy Moth. The third member of our little family. This is as far as I’m willing to go for the moment with Fella’s increasingly strident attempts to have kids. Originally meant to be my birthday present she is in fact the surviving member of the fourth pair we bought. On each occasion waking up to their prone corpses floating in the water caused Fella much distress so, Gentle Reade, we’ve decided to stick with just this one for the time being.

I will admit she’s quite the trouper. We’ve had her a few weeks now and she’s tolerated the condition we put her in well. Not that we’ve stinted. Special gravel; plants and a lovely amphora to swim about. Special chemicals to treat the special water to be pumped through the special filter and be aerated by a noisy box on the sideboard. We’ve gone through the nitrate cycle, the ammonia cycle, and the Cloudy Water of Fish Death. Then there’s the special food... yes, this is one pampered poisson.

How do we know she is a she? We looked it up, among the frantic Google searches about fin-rot and why the hell-crap-damn my fish keep dying.

Still, she has some personality. Before Baron von Richthofen Fish passed on (I’m sure he just did it out of spite) she delighted in swimming underneath him then rising up swiftly, essentially flipping him out of the water. Now, when she sees me, she comes right up to the glass before swimming rapidly from side to side, all the while facing me, almost like she's dancing. She clearly associates me with (special) food... It pleases Fella and I to see her swimming around her tank exploring whether gravel has magically become edible overnight.

Now that we’ve managed to slaughter half the Piscean inmates of ‘Pets at Home’ I think we’re settled. This one, the eighth one, is a keeper. We like her well.

JINX!

Bunking up

2010-12-21T20:11:00.000Z

Fella and I have lived together for nearly six months now, and so far so good. The occasional row, the occasional dinner party. Domestic bliss. Some routines have been settled into well; he cooks, I iron. Throw in a frilly apron and you’ve have a scene from the 1950s.

When we only spent a few nights a week together it was... urgent in some ways to take full advantage of the situation. In a small room, in a shared house, only a few hours together it was important to be together. However, it always being the same nights in the week there was always a risk that things would develop a routine in the bedroom as much as in any other area of life. And... not having your own place made options somewhat limited for us.

Now imagine that, gentle reader (not too graphically if you please!) – me in a monogamous relationship with my man; but we’re together two or three nights a week; and our freedom of... expression is strictly limited (though if memory serves we pushed the boundaries a few times).

Now spool forward to moving in; the opportunities are endless – or seemingly so. We’re together much more than we used to be, and can arrange our busy schedules to be together much more easily too.

But – there’s a lot more to being together, and intimacy, than the physical side of things. I like sex, I mean I really do. And I’ve put myself about a bit, as has Fella. Yet every aspect of coming out, being a proper out-there gay man has been about living life, finding love, not wanting to be alone. I’ve enjoyed the experiences I’ve had... and I’ve had them. So, like dating, moving in and getting engaged, there via the process of getting to what’s next.

Having a partner who is good in bed, adventurous and enquiring, is very nice. I will confess now that I have in my time purchased one or two special items, as I’m sure most of us have, that live tucked discreetly in a drawer. Fella, to my amazement, has a drawer veritably bursting at the seams. Very little chance there of things getting stale, sex getting samey. A full and engaging sex life is and will for a long time be a big part of my relationship.

Still, the intimacy is not fully served with sex alone. Sex, as I mentioned, is great – but I’ve always found that being with one person and learning their likes and wants is a far more worthwhile investment than being with lots of people for a short time (though it has its moments).

When Fella comes home tonight I might peel his clothes off with my teeth or we might curl up on the sofa and take in a film. Both have their merits and their attraction. And the thing about being together the way we are is, if we don’t do one thing or another tonight: well, we can do it tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

Look but don't touch...

2010-12-06T23:07:00.000Z

Oh there's ever such a lot of eye candy about. I'm not the best looking guy in the world, and in fact am somewhat obsessive about the flaws in my appearance (not uncommon among gay men I've found). Still, sometimes I do feel like a bit of a looker. I compare myself to other guys on my train and think "yeah, not bad". But that's rare.

Sometimes I am quite overwhelmed by the number of great looking guys about. Certainly I often feel the need to raise my game. I'm definitely no complaining though, about the talent around.

Being in a relationship means I can take time out from the whole world of worry around - does he find me attractive? Do I look good? Will he want to date me? Will he want to sleep with me?

I like being considered attractive, and I'm not letting myself go just because I'm with Fella - I'm still very much a work in progress. But there is something very nice about being able to look without having to worry about touching. I can appreciate, for the first time, hot and horny guys. There a fair few of them about.

I don't really like very, very beautiful men - it's an unwelcome reminder of my own ordinarinous [whatever that is]. I'm not into muscle marys, very young guys, very camp guys... I do have a weakness for slim, nerdy geeky type guys. Overall, though, I like just looking. The well dressed, in shape, well groomed man.

It's an expression of sexuality, but not sex. I'm not looking to play away. That very fact underpins the freedom to look, to appreciate the loveliness around me. Coming out makes it OK to look - no more for the furtive glances. Now I can drink it in!

I think it's well worth it gentle reader. Though I might be considered a bit pervy eyeing up people who might be considered a little out of my league. It's harmless fun. Both harmless and fun.

Items of interest II

2010-11-28T10:06:00.000Z

I spotted this article on Pink News recently and it really caught my attention. For a number of reasons: primarily the ongoing debate about gay adoption - but also the relatively new dynamic of medical opinion opposed to equality.

In essence the article discusses the aim of a doctor who refused to endorse same-sex adoption applications (and who resigned from an adoption panel on that basis) to appeal to and employment tribunal; and onward the European Court of Justice, on the grounds her medical opinion should override equality legislation. She believes that children should only be raised by mixed sex couples; and she claims this view is based on objective medical studies as well as her religious beliefs.

She is being represented by something called the Christian Law Centre, which said “Much of the population, and many studies, would agree with her professional and personal standpoint. Most professional opinion on this issue happens to fit closely with the Christian view. Yet Christians are being increasingly excluded from the public square and this can no longer go unnoticed".

Having worked in medical regulation for some years I would argue her assertions regarding medical evidence are risky. While I have no doubt there are studies that suggest gay couples are less suitable as parents, there are many that come to the opposite conclusion. When considering whether to launch a case against a doctor, on the grounds of professional misconduct, I have to consider whether the doctor's conduct could cause serious harm to patients, his/her colleagues or public confidence in the medical profession: and whether there is a reasonable prospect of probative evidence.

Allowing your religious views to interfere with your professional duties is clearly actionable. Actively discriminating against same sex couples hoping to adopt (and this breaking the law) is clearly actionable. But, by resigning and claiming scientific evidence to support her views, she has created quite an effective shield. No doubt the Christian Law Centre will seek to create a precedent weakening the application of equality legislation. Either way, I imagine the appropriate authorities will watch the case closely.

Studying for a degree in social research, I found the idea of research being used in this way intriguing. In fact a simple review of the available research suggests that it is very limited - there are too few cases of gay adoption and they are too recent for the impact to be objectively measured. But what qualitative research there is is broadly positive. Certainly the process of adoption, for gay or straight couples, means unsuitable parents are filtered out in ways that going out and getting knocked up in a boozy knee-trembler doesn't (see the clip below for a more eloquent discussion of that point). It might be a topic for my own research, going forward... so a timely controversy I suppose.

My own view is of course that any child is better off in any loving supportive home. Having children is a privilege not a right, and provides an awesome responsibility on those involved. And the fact that gay people want to assume that responsibility should be celebrated, not the subject of legal action.

Redundant systems

2010-11-18T20:25:00.003Z

It’s a-comin’ gentle reader. Maybe soon!

As I have written before I work in the good old NHS. Although the public sector is facing one helluva squeeze here, there, everywhere the NHS’s whopping £108 billion budget is not only ringfenced but is going to grow. Nevertheless the urgent need to focus resources on sick patients *sigh* has meant a need to cut back. In fact the method decided on has been to simply turn back the clock and reduce costs to the level they were in 2008.

My organisation has actually been somewhat restrained but still needs to make cuts because on current plans, to meet Government priorities, we will be running a deficit. Hence the need to make cuts.

Currently I am a business manager for a directorate – a core one at that. This has given me not only a major role in business planning but also access to very senior people. Also, many of those involved in corporate governance are members of the LGBT network at work and we look out for each other ;-)

Thus I am much better informed than my peers . I know that to make the cuts my directorate needs to, we don’t need to make anyone redundant except two; and we have been able to promote one and arrange a supernumerary secondment for another. The rest of the posts cut are vacant or we move people around.

However... I am also employed as what’s known as flexible resource. I normally do fixed roles that are time limited – a project or programme manager if you will – to help keep costs down. As my current and erstwhile colleagues well know it is quite difficult to get rid of someone once employed by the state. So I do the jobs that will come to an end.

Ironically – or not perhaps – that means I am at risk of redundancy not once but twice. If other directorates get rid of their business manager, we all have to reapply for our jobs. But if and posts in the flexible resource team get made redundant, the same thing applies.

To be honest it’s absolutely fine. I’ve been made redundant before and given my length of service the redundancy pay will be good. The organisation I work for is being shot down in April 2012 so it’s going to happen sooner or later unless I transfer elsewhere.

Overall I’d prefer to survive this round and go to the 2012 redundancies. The money will be better I’ll be near to finishing my maters degree; and my own savings will be greater. That will help Fella and I get our married life off to a better start.

Well, I know already that I will have to go through some kind of process. I know the flexible resource team is being slimmed down, so there we are. The announcement is being made on Monday so I can give you an update next week.

Here’s to the future :-)

NB: The announcement came last week and a it turns out in this round I am not at risk of redundancy - so a year's grace!

Items of interest

2010-11-15T20:36:00.001Z

There were three articles I saw today that interested me. All gay-related, I thought I’d share them with you, gentle reader, as I hope they interest you too. The first, discussed in this post is “Bring Me sunshine” in this week’s Economist.

The article discussed Richard Florida, an economist apparently much in vogue with the Conservative Party. He is an economist from America with strong ideas about the future direction of economic growth, namely that the West shouldn’t pursue low-level menial work, much the preserve of Asia today, but the creative industries – these should be the core engine of growth for us. He helps set out a blueprint for governments’ role in the economy, a topic of much debate, but most interestingly for us today he describes the best possible future as one that is sustainable environmentally, ethnically and culturally diverse, and gay.

Such a future attracts what he terms “freethinkers”. Not musicians, artists or bohemians per se but anyone open to new ideas. Cities that are tolerant of immigrants and gays will succeed. Those not will fail. He uses as an example the post-industrial failed cities in mid-western America (and I see parallels with the post-coal depressed towns in Wales and the north of England): rigid, white, working class, straight. Top down decision making that could not respond to changing times. Anyone who grew up in Thatcher’s Britain will rightly see such analyses as superficial.

I think the idea social liberalism is the key to future prosperity. Although criticised as a positive stereotype Florida argues that cities like Strumpetville have always attracted hardworking and ambitious people and that gay people in particular not only select cities that meet their requirements for aesthetics and amenity, but – crucially – they expand the aesthetics and amenity of the area they are in. Florida has analysed a correlation between house prices and the concentration of gay and lesbian people in a given area. To sum it up – cities without gays or rock bands are going to lose the economic development race.

The criticism of Florida that resonates most is that he confuses cause and coincidence. For example, I think gays are likely to move to up and coming areas but not to depressed working class areas where they are (a) likely to be isolated from other gays and (b) have the crap kicked out of them. I am living proof of that – I’ve slept with a lot of people in my post-code but I know what streets I/we want to live on.

That being written, I am pleased the hear this government, with a tough job and not much love (as much as it deserves to be sure) is listening to someone who thinks the future is a blend of green, brown and pink. Google it!

Excuses excuses

2010-11-14T19:25:00.000Z

So, the boiler has broken down. And sometimes gay people get beaten up (or worse) or being who they are.

The connection? Why that perennial favourite, the boiler breaking down. What else?

Let me start at what suits as the beginning, gentle reader:

Fella and I have had our ups and downs walking through the streets of Strumpetville. We’ve been quite lucky I think – some of the things that get reported in the news feed my imagination and paranoia (except... maybe they are out to get us). But there has been some hassle. I really get worried that Fella in particular will get hurt one day if he isn’t careful. I fancy I can handle myself and have a more forbidding demeanour you see... so I don’t like it when Fella displays affection publicly, especially when we’re out late at night. I feel it is risky. In a nutshell: I don’t want either of us to get killed.

So far so hoopy, right?

But the boiler has broken down. And what do we do when the boiler breaks down? We use our shiny Strumpetville Dabloons to purchase the services of a plumber.

Fella organises everything, and the plumber turns out to be a really nice guy. He can’t solve the problem, but gives us lots of advice. Well, he got £70 for his trouble; so fair enough.

Because this is the first time I’ve lived with someone, it’s the first time we’ve had someone in ‘our’ home who isn’t a friend or relative. So it’s the first time I’ve had to manage other reactions to my/our sexuality at home.

Fella was fine, and totally open – calling me “darling” and “sweetheart” in front of the plumber. And the plumber clearly didn’t care. So I’m writing this trying to get some insight into why I was even remotely anxious about it. Why was it necessary to be on my guard?

I wonder if I’m still a little afraid of how people will react to my sexuality; still carrying a little bit of the baggage that stopped me coming out for so long? It’s given me pause for thought... am I projecting my fears onto Fella? Why is it I worry about this? I think there must be something deeper than a reaction to homophobia. I mean there’s plenty of it about but not to the extent I should think about how I behave in my own home. To be fair there are plenty of unprecedented events in my life and it’s easier to deal with anything that life throws at me when I have some measure of control.

Chillaxin... hard

2010-11-08T20:29:00.003Z

I had a thoroughly unproductive weekend, gentle reader. By that I mean that I did nothing at all but relax (and go to the supermarket with Fella for some supplies).
This week and next I have no classes, so I am taking full advantage the opportunity of doing nothing. It feels weird; when I write unproductive I mean it. I like to have done something each day, be it studying, cleaning, working... whatever. However, while I am still working to accommodate all the demands on my time I am conscious of the risk of burning-out; and without the prospect of a holiday any time soon it was probably wise to chillax and be confronted only by the problem of nothing being on tele.

Truth be told I don’t really like it. I become restless, suffer from cabin fever in a way. Nevertheless, once in a while it is necessary.

The need to get something done has, perhaps oddly, caused me to think about the work I do; my job. I am employed as a flexible resource flexing between roles, putting right what once went wrong and hopping that my next flex is the flex home... Currently I am business manager to a team that is implementing the Government’s new healthcare policies. The really means midwifing a whole new structure whilst achieving quite a difficult cultural change in an environment that politely might be described as brothlike, whilst suffering too many cooks. I manage a team of four lovely and extraordinarily capable ladies, one of whom is friend C who kindly followed me to my new role after we had worked together in my old one for more than a year.
The focus of my thoughts is my legacy, I suppose. How am I going to achieve the things I want to achieve in the six months or so remaining to me in this role? It’s a real challenge and most days I come home not really liking it! But it’s a fantastic opportunity and being a business manager sure opens doors. Plus I get access to very senior people indeed which is a great learning opportunity. And for my plans I have their support. So, what to do?

Instead of writing a list of things to do, I am writing a list of things to achieve. Any task I need to undertake has to be linked to the ultimate outcome. I have found this new viewpoint rather helpful. Instead if what I need to get done by the end of the day, I decide what needs to be done by the end of the week, say, and focus on what I deem necessary to achieve that.

My job is important to me and I don’t want to move on thinking I hadn’t done some good. I like to think since coming out I have had the same attitude in my personal life, though that’s less critical with Fella – the act of being together is the object, not a tool. Maybe it’s time to achieve that same... peace... in my work! In six months. In the meantime, how to keep chillaxin???

Masters and Slaves

2010-10-31T18:22:00.001Z

Five weeks ago I started my masters degree, and so far so good. As a research degree I don’t have that many classes; two lectures and two seminars per week. They certainly believe in throwing people in at the deep end! I only now realise how much work is involved. For the seminars I have to do a load of reading because students need to present on and take part in discussion about their reading. It’s actually a very clever way of making sure that we do the work!

The next thing is to start on my essays. I have two due in December, but with careful planning I should be OK – I’ve taken leave from work and (a huge advance since I was an undergraduate) most of the learning resources, books etc are online; it saves on time consuming trips to the library. All in all I enjoy it and am learning a lot, and I’m glad of the support the university helpfully provides.

Being a research degree, one thing I must do is my dissertation – and that means identifying a topic. I’m not quite sure what to research yet; that’s quite understandable given I’m five weeks into a two year course. But, one initial idea I am taken with is combining my work in healthcare strategy with my interest in sexuality. Say, exploring heterosexism in the commissioning of health and social care.

One thing I do know already is the importance of reflexivity in research. That means reviewing my research and my research proposal continually, as my data and findings should lead me to refine my area of enquiry. And part of that means keeping a research journal.

That led me to consider this: instead of having a private journal I wondered if I should perhaps keep my journal as another blog. I don’t know if it’s appropriate when conducting research – perhaps you will have some insight into that, gentle reader?

I know what you’re thinking – two blogs? No-one, not even in Strumpetville, can live at that speed! But it would be time limited to the period of my dissertation; while this blog continues indefinitely. And as I’d have to write a journal anyway, on or offline makes no difference.

It’s just an idea at the moment, but I’m taken with it. Unless I discover it’s a total no-no in the field of academic research then I intend to start it as soon as I begin to seriously think of my topic and research design.

As for this blog – new look, new determination to post at least weekly. So plenty to read about, I hope.

The Line of Beauty

2010-10-29T20:07:00.001+01:00

I posted a while ago that I wanted to get more into gay culture. Having consciously avoided it before I came out then skirted around it since then I thought it time to jump in and begin to explore that area of culture.

The first thing I got to grips with was The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst. It is set in the 1980s and the main protagonist is Nick, a young gay guy who is out to his friends and family, but at the start of the story a virgin. A strong background to the story is Nick exploring his sexuality, from dating to cruising to drugs and group sex – but the book isn’t overly sexual or overly focussed on sexuality. It deals nicely with hypocrisy and how homophobia can linger under a veneer of acceptance. For instance, when one of the other main characters is exposed as an adulterer he accuses Nick of sabotaging his family with a “typical gay trick” – because gays can’t have families of their own they spoil other people’s. In another scene a couple of openly-homophobic upper-class people welcome HIV as a lesson to teach gays to be more careful.

At the end of the book Nick is alone, but has made some progress in the world; the two main love interests of his have died of AIDS, and he has lost his home but he is not resourceless. Because he has never been fully involved in family or social life because of his sexuality there is a nice underlying metaphor for the hypocrisy and materialism of the Thatcher years. He is surrounded by beautiful things and people, but ultimately they elude him.

In other news, I have joined the LGBT network at my workplace. It was/is nice to meet colleagues in the context of being gay rather than colleagues who happen to be gay and surrounded by people who aren’t. On the serious side we are the forum to test our employer’s policies and actions under the brand-spanking-new equality legislation that covers sexuality; and to try and get them onto the Stonewall Employers Equality Index. On the fun side there is the opportunity to socialise. I hope to make a valuable contribution...

So there we have it, gentle reader, a wee bit of culture, and a bit of getting-involvedness. Square one done and dusted!

Keeping it going...

2010-10-17T10:57:00.000+01:00

At the beginning of October I started my masters degree course. It is actually very interesting and absorbing, and in many ways I’m only just beginning to realise how much work is involved in the course. It’s each Monday and Wednesday evening after work; and involves lectures and seminars – and of course there’s the background reading, studying, essay writing and project work that supports passing the course. I’m determined to get much more than a pass though, so I really have my work cut out.

It means being somewhat ruthless with my working hours though I’ve settled into my role well enough that the immediate problems have been solved and I can concentrate on the cultural changes I feel are needed to move away from drama and toward Getting Things Done. It’s not easy given the background of transforming the service into a completely different set of institutions, which is certainly keeping everyone on their toes! Things remain very busy.

Obviously between work and study there is the need to Live Live Liiiive!! Fella and I have a busy social life and are usually out with friends once or twice a week. Last weekend we saw Pam Ann at the Vaudeville Theatre (hilarious), had dinner with friends in the week and yesterday we celebrated Fella’s mother’s 62nd birthday, went to the Museum of London, and the national gallery.

Finally, there is the need to keep Hogzilla at bay. I suppose all this frenetic activity should be keeping me trim and I’m certainly not putting on weight but being enfianced to a world class cook; and not being a stickler when it comes to the grape and the grain means I need to keep up with my regime of running (Tuesdays and Thursdays after work) the gym (three times a week before work) and swimming (weekends).

Am I writing this post to boast, gentle reader? No – the fact the cheerful fairy is a much beloved tower of rippling gorgeousness supporting a brain the size of a planet should not have escaped anyone by now *ahem*!

The one thing you won’t have spotted in all of this is talk of my relationship. Perhaps you were relieved to have got this far without yet another angst ridden attempt to dissect my love with inexpert tools. Well, fear not – I don’t propose to do that here.

Relationships obviously need work to keep going – and I know (just) enough to realise that isn’t easy even if there weren’t so many calls on my time. To keep this going Fella and I are doing two things – firstly, making sure we have Us time; at least one quiet night in a week where we can enjoy doing nothing, together. And also making sure we go out and do things, together. Next Saturday we’re reserving just for quality time, activities to be decided.

The second thing is of course Fella’s time. I am keen for him to take up something for the time when I’m not around. He does his yoga, for example [hurrah] and that’s a start. I’d like him to take up an evening course; he was considering learning German for example. I know when I’m alone at home without him it can feel very lonely in this flat – it’s very much our home and on my own it feels different.

That written, I do want him to enjoy some quiet time, and relax at home as he sees fit when I’m not around (just as I like to do from time to time – I’m still an introvert!). I don’t want him to resent my busyness or slip into a routine where his life revolves around my schedule; that wouldn’t be fair.

We’re holding the line pretty well right now I think. Of course we’re only a few weeks into a two year course and who knows where our respective careers and interests might lead us? Any tips would be most welcome when it comes to balancing the needs of a relationship with the all of the wider world...

What is sexiness?

2010-09-29T19:37:00.001+01:00

What is it that makes people sexy? I know what I like. Generally slimmer guys, bookish types... yes, I could do nasty things to the Hot Gay Nerd. Or even a Hot Straight One. I wouldn’t say Fella is nerdy, not t all, but he fits the type generally well. Somewhat ironic that Hogzilla’s Goldicocks is a virtual mirror image. Slim, musical, personable, family oriented vs “athletic”, scientific, introverted, distant.

One of the things about coming out was the desire to explore what I wanted from a man, relationship, etc – rather than frustratedly fantasising about cock (and occasionally holding my nose and indulging myself). After all coming out was precipitated by the start and abrupt end of my first proper relationship. Who and what was I looking for?

Desirability is a combination of things, isn’t it? Looks, dress, income, lifestyle, social graces, sexual behaviour, communication style... comment not, gentle reader, on how easy it was for me to get into a relationship but how difficult it was to sustain it. No, that’s not for today!
I suppose the clearest way of setting out what I’m thinking is to reflect on the three relatively long relationships I have been in over the last few years.

Darren, International and Fella are all remarkably different, and my thinking or feelings for them were and are different too. I don’t feel for Fella more strongly what I felt for International; I feel other things – better things.

For Darren, well I was in thrall. He was the first person I was with and really I was mostly pathetically grateful. I look back on that with a certain measure of world-weary embarrassment. Adolescent infatuation, blind to reality – just about ten or more years too late! Still, it was a necessary step – I thought he was delightful then but now I couldn’t honestly say that he is sexy to me. A bit muscle bound for my now more mature tastes. Good but not exceptional as a lover. Apart from being my first relationship, there is little remarkable about him.

International, now he was and remains a different story. Gorgeous, charming, incredibly sexy. When I was with him the mere thought of him, his body, being with him filled me with passion. The kind of sexiness you ascribe to being with someone who definitely isn’t good for you. Breaking it off with him was sad but not heart breaking – the connection there was largely physical. He gets in touch from time to time, but without the physical connection there is not much there... with him there was and remains a real physical attraction. But that, sadly, was all.

And what about Fella? He is beautiful, and kind, and loving, and generous. Every aspect of our relationship has its positive points to help reinforce our bond. Of course there are the down sides; that’s a relationship involving two imperfect human beings. His physical attributes are balanced by other parts of who he is. Perhaps his sexiest aspect is that he makes me happy.

I suppose it isn’t really fair – possibly even callous – to compare them in this way. I suppose sexiness is defined in different ways for different people at different times. But overall, it’s safe to say, in terms of desirability what I have now is by far the best!

Is it ‘cos I is...?

2010-09-14T19:51:00.002+01:00

Poof. Queer. Fruit. Homo. Arsebandit. Shirtlifter. Bender. Fag, fag, faggot. Batty boy. Ponce. Cock Jockey. Chutney ferret (!). Fudge packer. Pansy. Queen. Ring raider. Shit stabber. Uphill gardener. He goes shopping with his mum...

The list is virtually endless gentle reader, the names there are for us fairies be we never so cheerful as me. There always has to be a victim, somewhere, of course. By and large the old ways are still our favourite; Lord help you if you are brown. anti-Semitism is still close to the hearts of many. And do we really believe there's no such thing as women's work?

Nevertheless it seems that after reiterating the arguments for equality for a very long time it almost seems like gay men and women are the last ones left. It's difficult to come up with another group of people who face, in many countries, the death penalty for being who they are – either via the courts or extra-judicially; or who are faced with deliberate legal impediments (can't get married, can't have kids, differing ages of consent); or who are viewed with suspicion often by members of their own family.

Currently there is a bit of controversy smouldering away about the use of "gay" as a derogatory term – something "gay" is a bit crap, rubbish, shoddy. I had to pull up a friend the other day for using it quite thoughtlessly in the office. It is something that annoys me purely because it is such a throw-away term. People seem genuinely surprised that it can cause offence. I sometimes feel like saying to them: take out the world gay, put in the word black, and if you'd think twice about using that sentence then you need to be more careful generally.

Of course there are limits. "Gay" is used quite a bit by gay people or to gay people by their friends in a humorous, familiar context. A word reclaimed in that way can be an effective way of drawing its teeth; and anyway in this as in all things context is king. Also, the genuine and dangerous discrimination and harm gay people suffer around the world shouldn't get obscured in an argument about semantics. Fella and I have had our fair share of unpleasant experiences and we're not exactly winning prizes in the homophobia stakes. Still, the casual indifference, the idea that civil partnership will do gets to me.

Coming out was, and still is, for me the expression of realising it's OK to be gay – more than that, it's no reason to feel less than who I am: not second class so much as some kind of failure. Fortunately for me, for us, the world is slowly changing and compared to what it was like when I was a teenager it's much much better. And it will continue to improve. More gay politicians, more countries recognising relationships and dismantling the hurdles toward full and open participation in society, more (non-stereotyped) gay characters in soap operas and main stream movies. We're here, we're queer (ahem), and... we have quite a lot of money. Need I say more??

Voyager

2010-09-01T20:24:00.003+01:00

Voyager II was launched within a few days of my birth. I have felt an affinity to that lonely spacecraft, the farthest man-made object in existence, for many years.

When my family and I first came to Britain in the 1980s I started, as one does, at a new school with new people, speaking a strange language and observing peculiar customs. The very first thing we did after I started in my class was a project on that spaceship. I was hooked; the beautiful pictures of worlds I had never dreamed of; the idea of travelling so far into uncharted territory, and being so utterly alone. And the promise of the future;, discoveries and revelations beyond the wildest fantasy of science fiction.

At that point I decided I wanted to be an astronaut. Well, what boy doesn't? But the chances of being an astrofairy were very slim, not least because we did not go into space then. Nevertheless, my dream persisted and it eventually drew me down the path of science. I eventually began to read physic, moving to Strumpetville almost 15 years ago (15 years, gentle reader: already!!). and studying the stars myself. That time, too, was an exciting time for we began to discover worlds around other stars as well as take a vigorous and new interest in our neighbour worlds too. I was very lucky to be involved in a small way in both, and for a time Voyager was forgotten.

Now Voyager has left near space and for the next 15 years – as long as its systems are expected to keep functioning – it will feedback data on interstellar space; or as near to it as we are likely to get in the near future. And eventually its power cells will die and it will drift ever on until... well, perhaps forever.

That little craft out there has been, in a sense, almost an intrepid representation of my own little life. It was launched when I was born; it passed the last of the worlds it was to survey as my childhood began to end, and it left the Solar System about the time that I came out. I hope my power cells last beyond 2025, of course, but it is amazing to think how much that craft has not only had similar milestones – in a sense - but inspired me to follow my own.

Reading this who would wonder, whether gay or straight, that my obsession with space and science found me single for so long? But still, gentle reader, nothing has been quite so inspiring to me as that tiny piece of our world out there among the stars.

Addendum

2010-08-28T09:22:00.006+01:00

Further to my post, below, I have decided to write a short addendum. I am sitting here at home: it's 9:00am on Saturday, and I should be working on some job descriptions. Unaccountably, gentle reader, I was distracted by some Paul Brumby photos. Yum yum yum...

This, this here, is ultimately what I aspire to:

Tasteful airbrushing notwithstanding, I'm not a trillion miles from this - which is rather cheering. I wonder if my friends who read this are laughing themselves into a coma right now; but it's good to have a goal! And I think the above is far more achievable than some twink hairless fat-free homonculus. Why would I aspire to that? That would just make me feel bad; and the object is to feel good.

So here goes; a toast to becomming a little less gross every day. And now... back to work.

Hogzilla Returns

2010-08-26T20:48:00.002+01:00

I've put on weight gentle reader; there's no denying it. Not lots, but it's all fat. Boo!

It's not really surprising. The holiday in Germany – bratwurst, beer and dumplings oh my – didn't help; plus I wasn't taking much exercise over there. Also, Fella is an in insanely good cook. I'm not bad, I will admit – but I may as well serve up a raw stoat with swastikas shaved into its fur. Finally, since I got better, my body no longer enjoys calories solely from the whooshing noise they make as they passed through une system digestif grand vitesse.

The thing about living with a great cook is a routine of rowing, running, swimming and resistance training is only enough to stand still. And the thing about yo-yoing in weight due to my illness is I lose rippling gorgeousness and gain lard. So... Hogzilla remains Hogzilla. I've almost come full circle; although I'm still about 15kg/33lbs less than I was when I came out. Now that's progress!

Well, what can be done to tone up? Diet and exercise of course! Well, not just that. There are wider issues at stake here. I've been feeling a bit like a shambling oaf this last few weeks and think I need a general tune up to shake off that frumpy feeling.

Once I've toned up a bit more I can look at other areas of my life. So first things first:

Running twice a week after work with friends and colleagues. We're up to eight km (five miles) per run. Our little group has become the organisation's official running club so there's quite a few of us lumbering around the parks of Strumpetville now
The gym three times a week – resistance training to add the soupcon of rippling gorgeousness
Swimming and using the rowing machine to do a few km as well.

Plus; lifestyle.

Booze – only on Tuesdays (I love Better Off Ted) and Fridays/Saturdays – and not more than 10 units a week regardless.
Low calorie! Sorry Fella, gourmet you may be, but my wobbly bits are getting too wobbly.
Not letting work pressures disrupt my routine.

That should do it, though I'm realistic enough to know there won't be speedy results. What I really want is to feel a bit better about myself. The heavens may well be slack jawed in wonder at my temerity, given how lucky I have been over the last couple of years, with my relationship, career and so on. Nevertheless, it isn't nice to feel frumpy and unattractive a lot of the time, especially after having made so much progress. And therefore things need to change. And making the change is half the battle, no?

Another year...

2010-08-11T19:06:00.002+01:00

On Sunday it was my birthday. Another year older! The Cheerful Fairy has graced the stage for 33 years, even if for most it was as an understudy ;-)

For my present Fella got me goldfish, and – with some neat foresight there I might add – a tank to keep them in. We're collecting the fish on Saturday as apparently the tank needs to settle for a few days, water and all, before the fish can be introduced. I'm very excited, gentle reader, to be having fish – which I've wanted for so long. I did have fish once before, ad three were gitfted to me as a Christmas bonus from my first job – but I killed them with love. I aim to do rather better this time!

Also, Fella arranged a surprise birthday lunch for me with our friends on the day itself which was rather special. It was great to have so many people come out to celebrate; Fella must have worked very hard! I am racking my brains about what to do for his birthday next month...

So, here I am, over the threshold of another year. A worthwhile and busy job, a loving family, great friends, starting my degree in September, living with my gorgeous guy, and engaged to be marrificated.

How about that?

Yeah. Engaged...

OK, cards on the table. Objectively, in my heart of hearts, I think it's a bit soon. Or maybe that the timing is a bit out. Well, if that's my opening gambit maybe I don't quite know exactly what I think! But still.

I adore my Fella but I wonder if you too have pondered on the fact that we have been together for only 14 months and have lived together for about two. Indeed, we have had our ups and downs to say the least. I have wondered if Fella has a timetable all his own on which my feelings, or indeed some practical issues, have little impact.

For example, I'm about to start a very expensive two-year post-graduate course of study. As such, saving for a wedding is going to be difficult and probably impossible. I refuse to borrow against the cost, as married life will impose its own costs

Having said that a long engagement is helpful – 2013 ahoy! – because it gives us a chance to work on being a couple. It means we can get our other commitments out of the way – Fella is on a two year career development programme himself. And it means our friends who are engaged now can get married without us stealing their thunder!

Plus I need time to get used to the whole... grown upness of it all. In gay years I'm still only about 25; I'd not quite realised my days as a young man about Strumpetville were so soon to be permanently over!

Most of all waiting a while gives me a chance to plan. Being surprised with the proposal is really the issue here – I like to plan and be in control. It will give me a chance to be a full part of this wedding lark, and ideally beyond... everything is going well; domestic bliss to be sure. I'm looking forward to getting started on our life together J

Encore

2010-08-06T18:47:00.002+01:00

So here we are, back again from our trip to Germany. I'm sitting here, on the last day of my holiday, feeling somewhat sorry for myself – but that's only because of the somewhat sizeable electric shock I got from a poorly wired electrical fitting in the flat. Fortunately my luck held out and several amps of 240v current arcing across my heart, a minor burn on the arm is all I sustained.

Returning to the matter at hand, we had a lively time in Germany, visiting lots of sights and generally relaxing. It's the first time Fella and I have had a proper holiday for a holiday's sake, and we did enjoy it. I've certainly put on weight – back on the diet on Monday for me Gentle Reader.

One particular place he wanted to visit, my Fella, was Blaubeuren. It's a village nestled in the Schwabian alps; it's exceptionally pretty and also marks the start of a series of water-filled caves that remain unexplored. As such it is an area of fame and fascination locally; as well as a lovely place to visit.

We wandered around the village, and as it was such a sunny day, we had some ice cream, before going to the lake that marks the source of the river Blau, a tributary of the Danube. It was there that Fella suggested that he and I take a wander along the lakeside, leaving my family behind to enjoy the view. And it was there where he sat me down on a bench by the water's edge, and got down on one knee. And it was there that he asked me to marry him.

Well, to cut a long story short I said yes.

Who'd have thought it? Less than three years since coming out and I'm engaged to be civil-partnered! From Hogzilla to Bridezilla in but the blink of an eye. Fortunately both families are very pleased; and our friends are full of congratulations. We have a lot of planning and work to do but for the moment let us content ourselves with that we are very happy.

So, Ta Daa!! That's some news, right enough... obviously there's a lot to think about, out loud if you will, so much more by way of this blog. In the meantime domesticity is blissful, by and large, though we're still settling into the flat; much to do there too. All in all we glide toward the Cherrful Fairy's 33^rd birthday with suspiciously plan sailing :-)

Lady Luck meets the Cheerful Fairy

2010-07-26T20:14:00.002+01:00

Well, when I neglect you gentle reader I really do... so sorry that this is likely to be the second of only two posts in July. This is what happens when one has no broadband for a while , after the Cheerful Fairy moves in with his boyfriend! Hurrah!!

On Wednesday we're flying out to Germany to visit my mother and the my family. It will be nice to have the break, and I know Fella will enjoy it. And immediately after that of course it is my birthday! It is fortunate, then that we have made so much progress so quickly – and so smoothly. Our move has progressed with barely a hiccup.

In fact living together has promoted quite a sunny phase in our relationship; I adore him all the more even though we're together much more – being an introvert I shy away from that level of closeness because I need my own space so much. But we picked the right flat, I think, and we are already developing those little rituals that settled couples do to demarcate their emotional and physical territories.

As for the freedoms living together gives... well, we are enjoying those to the full; some things are more pleasing even than blogging. I do hope you might forgive me...

So I suppose this blog post is by way of an update; an out of office post, perhaps. But fear not, I do intend to keep blogging. There are lots of themes going on in my life: getting fit; studying; working ; developing and continuing my relationship with Fella; and still exploring Strumpetville and what it means to be the Cheerful Fairy.

I have been extraordinarily lucky I must admit. My health is sound; I have a good and interesting (if utterly demanding) job. I'm about to start a great course, and I have a lovely home. Great friends and a family that at least accepts who I am. Last but not least I have a great guy whom I adore, and who unaccountably adores me. But I cannot take anything for granted; and nor can I simply accept the largesse of the Universe without giving anything back; and I want to explore what that might mean, going forward.

So, stay tuned, do. I will be back with more; but not until August. So stay well. And have fun. And speak soon :-)

Chez Fairy

2010-07-08T11:09:00.002+01:00

I know, gentle reader, I have been neglecting you for far too long. Even with my Fella and my work, study, social lfe etc I blog more frquently than this! What could have happened?

Well, let me tell you…

Fella and I have moved in toghether! Ta daaa!! Yes, we've take nthe plunge. We saw a place we liked on 26 July, signed the lease a week ago, and began moving our stuff in. The down side, of course, is the interruption to my broadband service and hence, as with last June, a break in my blog posts – I have to wonder, incidentally, why telecommunications companies must move with such glacial slowness.

But the up side is we are in our own place, not just confiend to one room or disrupted by commuting from one place to another.

I am, of course, neglecting the most important thing. The new flat! Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen, large balcony, windows, walls and ceilings… all mod cons bar the dishwasher (which I shall sorely miss). Good size, good price, and very near to where I have lived this past few years so a covnenient move all in all. For me.

Fella will takerather longer to onstall and I'm beginning to worry that he feel's it's becoming "my" place rather than "our" place as only my stuff is in it. However, next weekend (once I've cleared my old place) I shall head up to where Fella currently has his stuff and help him shift it to. We can manage until then…

Still, we're very pleased and excited and already the freedom having our own place gives. Fella has recently got onto the College's Career Development Programme which alongside our studies and busy working lives means two bedrooms are very handy. As for moving in and sharing the apce and tiem we have now… we certainly haven't missed the broadband very much! And when Fella isn't there with me I feel the place is too big and too empty; it's definitley the right place for us to share.

Going forward we have the whole rigmarole of putting what where, decorating, and buying new stuff together… and of course our respective studies, work and hobbies to fit into our new shared routine. But of course first things first our housewarming must be organised! Stay tuned for news of that J

We have been amazingly lucky this past few weeks, both with the flat and in other areas, and I hope our good spell lasts and lasts. And once all ourservices are up and running I'll blog a bit more freqently: promise. But in the meantime this is my hurried between-meetings-in-the-office update!

INTJ

2010-06-23T23:11:00.002+01:00

I am an introvert (INTJ is my Myers Briggs type), I always was. One of the main things I wondered about, coming out, is whether I would become more extroverted as a proper gay! Well, the answer to that is yes and no. Before and after personality tests show I am much less introverted than I was before – but not quite tipping the balance. And, as with so many things, rather than being a cure for all my ills, coming out exposed my... flaws... much more clearly.

My problems communicating etc I don't intend to revisit here; there's enough of that on this here blog. One thing I have noticed though is that at my most ill I did become very withdrawn and really just wanted to be on my own (well, that may not be too unusual)... I really retreat into my shell. Classic introversion – I need to be alone to recharge my batteries.

Looking forward, living with Fella would on the face of it not seem to be the best way of meeting that need for me time or me space. However, one of the biggest challenges in finding that time and space has been the need to accommodate Fella when he spends those three of four nights a week with me. Sharing a home will give us both a chance to do the things we need and want to do. I can, for example; stay late in the office; go to the gym; take some work home; go for a drink and still see Fella in the evening. Naturally I can't do that now.

Does that read selfish, gentle reader? I love my man, sure enough – but having to by Mr Happy Fun Cheerful Fairy at all times isn't very easy for me. Being able to go into another room lets us both get on with living.

Things are going absolutely fine at the moment for him and me, and moving in together – I am hopeful – will help. Ironically both Fella and I have been quite unwell over the last week; I get some antibiotics to help me shift my illness, and Fella comes down with food poisoning! On the plus side that means neither of us can drink. On the other hand it means we haven't had much fun together over the last week or so. Again, living together would make that a bit easier – helping us support each other whilst having the freedom to be apart if we need to.

We've begun looking for flats, but without much luck so far. Fortunately there is no rush for either of us to move as such so we can look for as good a place as we can manage. But we are hoping to move any time soon, and then the pressure will be eased; no longer will I have to compromised between the private me, the public me and the private/public us.

Engrenage

2010-06-15T22:00:00.002+01:00

Well, gentle reader, I think it is safe to say that the Cheerful Fairy is Frumeplla no more. Of course my rippling gorgeousness could use some work; always room for improvement, dontyaknow, etc.

I refer of course not only to my efforts to improve my physique, bowl over the residents of Strumpetville with my lovliness... yeah, anyway, I refer not only to that; I refer to my wider health.

Since a week last Sunday my illness returned with a vengeance: I lost three pounds over the course of the weekend, and felt pretty run down since then. It's calmed down but co-incidentally I had a hospital appointment last Thursday to follow me up.

There is something rather special about having a good doctor, and you may take good to mean intelligent; erudite; interested; or just good at lateral thinking. However, the nice lady who saw me had clearly decided this is a bit too much and the best thing to do would be to do a series of tests from scratch. Hence I spent much of the morning having blood tests and other... examinations, going round and round the hospital beaten only to the various departments by the electronic missive explaining what is required.

And, yes, and at the end of it all I have – Te Deum to be composed in honour of this momentous occasion – a diagnosis.

Intestinal spirochaetosis.

Yum.

Spirochetes are a nasty class of bacteria not routinely tested for, and as an anaerobic bug, not prone to surviving in samples exposed to air. Hence it can be hard to find. It is a class of bacteraemia that counts among its number humanity's friends, syphilis and lime disease. It is an opportunistic infection and will quite often attack people with HIV, or other sexually transmitted diseases. Although it is not sexually transmitted the bacteria are much more common among gay men (30 to 50%) than straight men (two to five per cent) for reasons unknown to science!

Well, the next step is to get some antibiotics (metronidazole in my case) for a short while and with luck my roller coaster love affair with Armitage Shanks will be over. Interestingly – in a Freudian there-are-no-accidents kind of way – I can't drink whilst on the antibiotics and for a short while afterward. That ought to be interesting...

Anyway, once I'm better I need I think to review my healthy living regime. I wasn't able to go to the gym whilst very ill and of course as before it consumed my body mass rather than body fat, so I'm perceptibly weaker than I was before. Still, it is good to take the opportunity to capitalise on the fact my ribs are showing through. I want my flat tummy!

Overall it's good to have a diagnosis; though on some level the amount of stuff to deal with right now approaches new heights or tiresomeness. I look forward to it being over... and thus this is progress of a sort.

What’s next...

2010-06-12T21:19:00.003+01:00

Some things, once said, cannot be unsaid and cause such damage there is no going back.

So Fella made his choice; the booze over me. Well, it's a decision and – on every level – I asked for it. What else could I do? I asked Fella for his keys and advised him to contact some friends he could stay with. When I got home I packed up his stuff and put it to one side, in preparation for handing it over in over the next couple of days. I went on Facebook to update my relationship status, but somehow it felt so... final, I couldn't quite do it. I texted some friends for a bit of short term sticking-plaster support.

The Gardener, unaware of the situation, let Fella in. Rather than have him wander the streets in a drunken state I decided to let him sleep on the floor. And on Saturday morning he went to get his hair done, and to give me some space, to think about whether we should talk when he got back.

So we talked.

Fella said my new willingness to just end the relationship was, as he put it, a 'wake up call' and he was willing to go tee-total if that was what it takes for our relationship to work. I expressed my doubts about his ability to do this, as I'd asked him to moderate his consumption in the past. And in fact I would have never asked him to stop drinking all together; but I would ask him to bear in mind how much he's eaten (or not); how much other people are drinking; how he will get home safely... As an aside my illness has moved to a point where I shall soon be unable to drink alcohol at all, but that I shall post about shortly.

What needs to be worked on is the underlying cause of his drinking. What makes a man so insecure that he turns, through drink, from someone acknowledged as charming, intelligent, giving and witty, into someone universally acknowledged as a bit of a dick. What also needs to be worked on is how I deal with things and how I can support him going forward. What needs to be restored is a level of trust; we can still have a good time together, we can enjoy ourselves.

Where we left it is that we're still very much together, and still planning to move in together, but this endless cycle has to... end. Fella, it seems, wants to be happy but in a world where happiness is the default and attractive though that is we're in a place where I think it has to be worked at quite hard now.

I imagine it seems, at least a little bit, to you gentle reader like I'm flogging a dead horse. But I see quite the reverse. We have, admittedly through a crisis, reached a point where we have agreed our problems and agreed to work through them, together. No guarantees of course, but our relationship is built on a strong foundation and we have a real love I would not want to throw away. I'm not afraid of being single, but I also know how I feel when Fella walks into a room.

So what's next? Stay tuned...

C2H5OH

2010-06-12T21:13:00.003+01:00

Fella and I have had our disagreements in the past, but they tend to centre on two things. The first is my inability to communicate well. I get terribly frustrated and this results in huffy and pouty behaviour that's not very nice for either of us, and eventually it boils over into big arguments and hurt feelings.

The other is Fella's alcohol consumption. It's been an area of concern for some time. Since long before our anniversary I got terribly anxious about going out with him where alcohol was involved. Ironically because I was unable to articulate my concerns the difficulties in our relationship were based on a positive feedback cycle where ultimately the more frustrated I became the more he drank in response until we couldn't have a good time going out at all. It's been that way for a while now, until things recently came to a head.

We went to see A Beautiful Thing at the theatre on Wednesday and the 15 or so of us who went all agreed that it was an excellent and well staged play. The evening in fact was marred by just one thing, and I think you can guess what it is gentle reader.

In order on Wednesday Fella drank the following:

A bottle of red wine, by himself at home while getting changed before going to the theatre
One pint of beer with the group before the play started
One large red wine at the interval
One pint of beer and one large red wine, in the pub after the theatre
Finished up with a line of shots of unknown number.

All told not less than 25 units of alcohol. The rest of us had two or three pints; nine or 10 units at most. He had eaten, all day, two ryvita. You can imagine the state he was in...

The absolute worst thing, though, is the shots. He was with the group, talking away. And he turned to me and said he was going to get a diet coke. Of course I was fine with this, and in fact quite relieved. But he was gone for a while.... so when I went to find him he was at the bar, alone, knocking back the shots he lined up. He had lied to me.

I am concerned about how much he drinks; his family is; his friends are; his colleagues are. There isn't an alcohol dependency at work here. Fella can go a very long time without drinking at all. But his inability to enjoy a social situation without drinking to excess had at that point gone just to far.

Of course this led to a terrible row over the next couple of days and ultimately, piss poor communicator that I am, on Friday night it boiled down to a simple choice; the booze, or me.

And he choose booze.

Kultur

2010-06-08T19:48:00.002+01:00

One of the things I always did before I came out was to avoid gay culture. Or gay cultural references. By that I mean GLBT fiction, films like My Beautiful Launderette, 'The Scene', etc. I'd avoid focussing on the small number of gay characters in TV shows, or socialising in gay venues or with gay people.

Since coming out this is not an area of my life I have sought specifically to rectify. I've been too busy meeting guys for relationships and assignation and all that jazz... plus there has been an element of re-exploring my existing relationships and lifestyle in the light of my new found honesty. But, still, a part of my still found itself somewhat uncomfortable when confronted with anything... gay. Not the sexual side of things, by any means, not since coming out at least. But the whole being gay thing... a closed book to me I never made the effort to open.

I'm not totally certain why. It may be a combination of things; a real regret that I left things so late. A small amount of envy that my own experience was somehow less glamorous, happy ever after, or whatever... or lingering embarrassment about the whole thing maybe? Who knows.

Over the last couple of years I've been well blessed with the support for friends, particularly 'A', who have tried to involve me however indirectly with their gay friends. And I joined various networking groups like "Out". I even went to pride (which was fabulous). However, it was not until I met Fella and our two groups of friends began to coalesce that I began to have a significant pool of gay friends. And, of course, as part of that I began to be exposed to their interests and lifestyles.

Still, there remains a significant gap in the Cheerful Fairy's knowledge... well, the good news gentle reader is that it's time to do something about it!

On Wednesday Fella and I, and about a dozen or so of our friends – all gay (except my friend 'C' who is coming along too) – are going to see A Beautiful Thing at the theatre. It promises to be a good night out, but also it will be the first time that I've done anything like that with that kind of group. Fairly ordinary for them; fairly good for me!

Also, I'm going to read The Line of Beauty, which is a novel set in the 80s and revolving round a gay central character. It was adapted for television, and I'm told was fairly explicit; though of course I didn't watch it. It may well make uncomfortable reading, but I want to get more involved... more informed at least.

So that's two things. A start, at least. If anyone has any ideas for a third, then please let me know. I'm on the lookout now!

Weekend

2010-06-02T23:06:00.002+01:00

Well, what a weekend that was gentle reader. Over the bank holiday we had a lot of parties, my Fella and I.

The weekend began with a drinks reception at the Royal College where Fella works and I did the Good Wife thing and mingled and charmed (I think, anyway). After that fella went home and I went clubbing it with friend 'C'. I have vague memories of dancing on a table until about 3:00am so we can consider the day seized there!

On Saturday we attended a barbecue cum housewarming hosted by fellow blogger Made In Scotland. We had a lovely time, and I'm delighted to have been invited – and to have attended. I am, I will admit, semi-consciously training to be a stepford-homo and as such was on tenterhooks for the social faux-pax but I think I managed to subsume my streak of misanthropy sufficiently well.... Made In Scotland will give you an honest assessment, I am sure!

After that, well we had Eurovision. I attended a party hosted by friends of Fella's that are now in some measure mutual – but this was the first time I had seen them separately, as it were. Well, it went well enough. I like Eurovision and we all laughed a great deal. I preferred Iceland (and Ireland, Azerbaijan, Moldova, Belgium...) so was surprised, though not unpleasantly, when Germany won. What 100 billion Euro will buy you, eh ;-) ?

Sunday, well we had a jaunt to Richmond before Sunday lunch to celebrate the birth of my good friend 'A'. There were about 15 people there, mostly gay, in a crowd that would have scared the shit out of me three years ago. But all were rather lovely and it was a really rather lovely time.

Truth be told I was feeling rather worse for wear on Tuesday and glad of the opportunity to go back to work, for the rest if nothing else... I wonder if I'm beginning to approach the propinquity of passing beyond an age where one might reasonably be considered capably of bacchanalian or even saturnalian pursuits for an extended period? Hmmm....

Fella and I had good reason to celebrate of course because we finalised a lot of our plans to move in together. We know our budget (surprisingly good), the area we're looking in (roughly where I am now), and when (September or so). Timing and money are tough because of my master's degree beginning in October; but I have applied for funding from work and coincidentally my department's training budget was recently doubled because of an underspend last year... so I am hopeful of at least some support.

But I can blog more about that another time. I hope you had an equally lovely bank holiday... and are equally happy J

Better late than never

2010-05-27T23:22:00.003+01:00

One of the most tiresome aspects of my recent health problems – though pleasingly at a very low ebb at present – is that every test pares down the range of options away from really very immediately serious (e.g. cancer) but also away from the relatively minor (infection, etc).

This leaves us, sadly with a range of less salubrious and unpleasantly permanent possibilities. Multiple sclerosis, for example. And... other things.

On Wednesday I took the somewhat unusual step of having a sexual health check-up; unusual in two ways. Firstly I haven't had one since I met Fella. And secondly I haven't had one since well before I met Fella. The first point is important because we're in a stable, loving monogamous relationship. Why therefore would such a check up be important? Well, ever since the debacle with my erstwhile counsellor I've gone right off visiting what is the nearest and by far the best appointed sexual health clinic to my home. In fact it was months and month of fun and fun between then and my relationship beginning... and whilst always taking care to ensure a crop failure however many wild oats sown, there are no guarantees. Safer sex, not safe sex, no?

And the stupid thing is we've never really talked about it, he and I. On that Wednesday I could not put my hand on heart and say, for instance, my Fella is free of diseases!

"But why now?" I hear you ask gentle reader. Well, this is the thing. My symptoms – and this gives some measure of their unpleasantness, are what one might expect to experience when an HIV infection progresses to 'full blown' AIDS. A card in my increasingly slim deck that the standard range of tests had not eliminated.

So there was my paranoia about that but what really began to worry me was if it was by some chance the emergence of one of my worst nightmares, the risk to my man – exposing him to risk, however unintentionally, was more than I could bear.

On Wednesday my anxiety spilled into action. I cleared my calendar, went into Soho, found a rather well set up and excellent sexual health centre and within minutes the Cheerful Fairy was a big pink pin cushion and within a very short while after that a very friendly, short and Welsh nurse was cheerfully telling me all was well and – pending a short delay for my syphilis screen (!!) – there was no cause for concern.

Amusingly my own attention to safety and her determination to provide some kind of service had led the nurse, whilst we waited for the results, rally magnificently in the face of my inability to put myself at (great) risk. She gave me some excellent tips on avoiding and treating sunburn (moisturiser and hope – not unlike my anti-aging strategy).

Anyway... that night Fella and I sat down and properly, properly talked about That Kind of Thing for the first time and I am so glad we did. It led to a much wider discussion about fidelity, sex vs love, how that might evolve as our relationship does (no stone left unturned in the maintenance of monogamy; no door closed in terms of our relationship) so in so many respects the experience was a positive and productive one. But the moral of the story is, I suppose, twofold – one: I am a bit of an idiot sometimes. Two: however crass it seems some things are better discussed. Fully, early, and honestly.

Anniversary Part 2

2010-05-20T21:35:00.003+01:00

This is the story of a Fairy named Frumpella, who lived in the magical land of Strumpetville, and who had been with his wonderful man for exactly one year...

Yes, that is how anniversaries are supposed to be, and dangnamit gentle reader I will not be denied! After all the... unpleasantness... of our weekend we agreed to try, try, try again to have the anniversary that we deserve on the Monday we had handily, presciently even, booked off to celebrate our anniversary.

First things first – the presents. You will recall me getting in a bit of a state trying to find exactly the right presents for my man. Well, what I settled on was: a new very swish MP3 player; a £25 iTunes gift card; and a spa day for him and me with facials and massages and all that jazz. You can see the wrapping paper I used, and the card that really captured my mood, in the picture below:

From my Fella I got a complete Yes Minister/Yes Prime Minister; and a picture I've always admired called Polar Sunrise. The image is a photograph that was taken in 2008 and has always arrested me whenever I saw it. When on a recent trip to the Natural History Museum, I happened to see a print of it on sale in the gift shop: fella must have noted my rapture. So he done good. His third gift to me was a wine tasting tour of a vineyard at Bolney, in Sussex. What is remarkable about this is how pink minds think alike; I was giving serious thought to booking a wine tasting event for him instead going for the spa day. Phew!

The Spa-day was booked for that very Monday so out we went after the exchange of gifts to the Park Lane Hilton to get spruced up. The treatments worked and for the rest of the day at least we looked as young and lovely as we felt (even though Fella always looks young and lovely, goshdarn). But that was not the end of it, no not at all.

After Dunpamperin we moved on to a pub I particularly like in the City, called The Fox and Anchor and after that we went to a restaurant near Sptialfields Market called Larder. I have to say, Larder was absolutely fabulous. Simple food but expertly done. I very strongly recommend it; and particularly the organic bread they have which we couldn't get enough of and a loaf of which turned out to be a gift from the staff on the occasion of our magnificence.

And so we went home, to enjoy the last of what was a perfect day for him and me – for us together – and one last gift, the planting of a seed if you will. In the Fox and Anchor, you see, we decided it was time to think about moving in together.

Anniversary part 1

2010-05-19T21:11:00.004+01:00

As you will recall it is a whole year has passed since my gorgeous guy and I first met! Well, the details of how we celebrated – and didn't - are somewhat convoluted... yes, it's been a bit of a roller coaster ride and no mistake.

This all going to come across a bit Jekyll and Hyde I suppose. Forgive me, then, if it makes little sense. I have not planned well what I wish to post. But in no particular order, let us start at the beginning.

On the morning after the night before, as described in my last post, Fella and I Talked about his behaviour and there was marked disagreement about whether he had been a bit extreme. By the time we were due to go to Brighton I was quite prepared to NOT go to Brighton – So There! Still, we held it together long enough to meet our friends and in fact we had a lovely day in the town on the beach, going to the funfair etc. Fella and I snuck off for a great dinner, just the two of us, while our friends went out and about and then we found a bar to pass the last couple of hours until our train home.

So far so good. Sadly, however, Fella got very messily dunk and it proved so difficult for friends and I to navigate him toward the station we missed our train and there was much bad temperedness. It was pretty much at that point I decided something had to change. I talked to our friends while Fella slumped on his seat, and interestingly I discovered they had concerns about his behaviour also. I had assumed – quite wrongly – friends got him drunk, and left him to his own devices, causing no end of disapproval from me, as the piece-picker-upper in chief; not a role the Cheerful Fairy adapts to well. But I was mistaken. And that helped.

Helpfully friends talked to Fella and then he and I talked some more when we finally got home. Essentially, and shocking though it may seem, gentle reader (well, shocking timing if nothing else), I explained to Fella I at that time pretty much considered myself single if only as a way of getting perspective on what was happening and what was best for him. Me and our relationship going forward: even if that meant Not Being Together.

Of course by the end of the next day, Sunday, when we'd both had a chance to think there was much recanting and a reaffirmation of our ongoing relationship. Still a pretty crappy way of celebrating our first anniversary, no? I probably come across as a total dick – and suspect I deserve to. But something has to change, I feel. A lot of things, really – not least how I handle stuff and that. But more of that another time...

What Fella and I agreed was to treat Monday as our proper anniversary and draw a line through the weekend's events rather than under them. And absolutely Monday was as perfect a day as we could have hoped for, both of us coming out of pretty loved up indeed. Very much so in fact!

Well, I think that's probably confused you enough. I do wonder how fucked up our relationship must be for our anniversary to pass in such a way. If this is paper, what's gold – pistols at dawn? I'm not sure it should be quite like this. Answers on a comment-like postcard please.

And in the meantime, I shall post soon about exactly what we did do on our anniversary-part-deux and indeed something that on Monday we decided to do in a few months' time ;-)

One hand clapping

2010-05-14T22:24:00.002+01:00

So here I am. Fella is asleep; in a few short hours it will be our anniversary, true and proper. One whole year!

Much as I adore him I find myself wondering sometimes if it wouldn't be easier... to take all those opportunities for an affair, or just a casual fuck or three. I worry sometimes I still skirt that old world, not quite ready, willing or able to divorce myself. Am I just with him to spare his feelings. Whoops! Roll on the next 60 years...

Perhaps I'm being too harsh on both of us. Neither of us is perfect – and I wouldn't want us to be. But right now he's either manically happy, devastatingly sad, zombified or paralytic. None of those four states is overly pleasing. The highs and lows, stops and starts make one hell of a roller-coaster but sometimes the ride gets a bit much.

Tomorrow we're up early; off to Brighton, the first phase of our plans gets put into action. He won't remember tonight's events , he never does the morning after. I do hope the sun is shining, gentle reader: he won't understand if it's gloomy. So I must ensure it never is even though I remember everything.

He gets so unwell my default state is one of fear. Is he OK? Is he alright?? He's asleep now, frowning deeply as if his sadness infects his dreams. I wonder if he dreams what I'm typing? I wonder if I can get the blood out of the carpet. I wonder if the rest of this inferior Chardonnay and a bit of Dr Who will let me get any sleep tonight at all?

I adore my man. I'm so pleased we've got to an anniversary. I'm living a dream I barely dared to dream even three years ago; but can I make him happy? We're becoming co-dependent he and I. He knows instinctively the sun does not always shine in Strumpetville so he lets in the rain... and the clouds above us both get ever deeper.

Bugger I'm a miserable fairy tonight; maudlin perhaps. Onwards and upwards is the only way forward; and damn it all I shan't go back. Time to make things that little bit tougher... a bit of gay meets Zen. I don't quite know what it is that binds me to him but it is not severed yet.

I'll let you know how the anniversary goes. And how we go about planning for number two!

3, 2, 1...

2010-05-10T22:51:00.002+01:00

I'm writing this post by way of an update; a catch-up meant as an apology – or even an excuse – for my ever diminishing blog post output.

Do you recall, gentle reader, that I applied to do a master's degree? Well I got accepted on the course so should start that, all the detail in the meantime notwithstanding, in October. I am really pleased, of course, and very much looking forward to the challenge. On carefully questioning colleagues who have forged this path ahead of me, I have been advised to apply a measure of ruthlessness to my working hours and ensure that don't do more than I should over the two years of the course.

That really will be a challenge, particularly as I have ascended to yet another new role within my faceless bureaucracy (they do seem to come around rather quickly, do they not??). This is my third week as Business Planning Manager for my employer's strategy arm. Deputy Chief of Staff, if I might be permitted to flatter myself, for the branch of my employer tasked with devising what healthcare in London will look like in three, four, five years' time given the needs of an increasingly diverse population, challenging resources over the foreseeable future, and – right now - no Government. One might have thought the lack of a Government might mean less work for a public sector employee but sadly not, sadly not.

Clearly the most exciting electoral map in a generation; the most difficult economic circumstances in three; and the Cheerful Fairy are an unusual combination and it is a fairly safe bet that we shall be living in interesting times for a little while yet.

What I find most peculiar is being in a position where I am considered to be good at what I do. I am somewhat perplexed by it all really, especially since I am not used to being offered roles and responsibilities based on my reputation. I can only work (and hope) to meet the expectations made of me.

In the meantime my colleagues and I ran the 5km run that we had been training for; I was surprised by how smoothly it had gone. And of course we are not yet done; there is a 10km run that we have signed up for in August to support the Gay And Lesbian Switchboard. It's a very worthwhile cause I'm glad we will still be training together and the exercise will be useful. My gym-going is going good; I'm even getting complimented quite spontaneously on my buffness, which is rather pleasing I will confess.

This really only leaves the obligatory update on my gorgeous Fella. It is best to leave that till last because much of what has come before is done for his benefit – or more accurately mine in that it helps me keep him. Helps me be worthwhile for him, in my mind, that is. Hard work, as relationships should be, but in five days we shall be celebrating our first anniversary so clearly it is work that has paid off thusfar – even if it does mean I can't post as often as I used to!

Normal Service

2010-05-07T21:53:00.002+01:00

Well, first of all I would like to write a big Thank You to all the people who sent me such nice and supportive comments on my last post.

The Good News is Fella and I are still very much together and looking forward to our first anniversary in just over a week's time. Fella has started his medicine and whilst I was somewhat trepidatious (if that's a word) about the impact it would have on him it has had a very positive and immediate effect that I for one am delighted with. He's a lot happier and not coincidentally so are we.

We spent the long weekend in Cardiff because Fella had a family engagement. Cardiff really is a great town and I strongly strongly recommend it to anyone in the UK looking for a short break. I hope it marks the start of a much better phase for us. Interestingly half his family – including his 87 year old grandmother – trekked back to the hotel with Fella to meet me once his family (no partners, see?) do was over which was nice in a torturous sort of way. However, we have an invite to return and as I have friends down that way too it seems likely we shall be making further trips to sunny Wales at some point.

In the meantime, for our upcoming anniversary, I have booked him and me on a spa day at the London Hilton. After that I'm taking us out for dinner. In the morning of the day of course I think it time for the exchanging of the gifts. I have a vague idea of what Fella has got me (I turned up at his office unannounced not long ago and I think I saw my present then but didn't twig for a little while). However, I am still casting about for the perfect present for him. My tentative exploration of things he might like tend to have been pooh-pooh'd by him... so while I have the BIG gift and lots of little gifts, I still need that TA-DAA present.

I do have the perfect card. I saw it in a shop and to my horror began to cry! So much for the stiff upper lip!!

So there we have it; things continue apace. I'm so glad that Fella is much happier and the amazing change that occurred so quickly has caused me to think how lucky I have been. I have been a bit disappointed, with myself, when things got a bit bumpy back there. I still need to remind myself that my relationship experience is still very small.

Nessy

2010-04-26T23:33:00.002+01:00

Fella has an illness. It really is that simple; although it explains an awful lot. Why we've been having a difficult time recently, for example. I think it does him enormous credit to have realised his illness was getting so severe that he needed some help, and tomorrow morning that (I hope) is exactly what he will get.

The illness is disarmingly simple. There is an imbalance of chemicals inside Fella and that affects his mood and how he thinks from time to time. In the past this has required medication to control it; and it seems one of those times has rolled around again.

Fella hasn't always been up-front with me about his past and elements of his personal life. Hmmm... re-reading that I mean to write he has chosen not to reveal all to me as yet. Yes, that's better isn't it?

I really don't mind; it is none of my business – so long as I know how to do what is right for him and what will make him happy. So – and forgive me for straying into selfishness mode here gentle reader – I am experiencing various emotions at this new paradigm.

I think I'm a little bit in shock, to be honest. I don't really understand. That is, the technical and logistical; even the biological mechanisms are apparent to me now. But I am somewhat lost in unchartered territory. This isn't the shiny side of Strumpetville, and no mistake.

The primary feeling is a huge amount of guilt. Fella is and was ill, slowly getting worse and I can't help but feel that I contributed to it. A lot. So much so that this Sunday I raised the possibility that he and I should end our relationship if that is what is best for him. He insists, to no small relief on my part, that it is not. But at 11 months and 11 days I am confronted with the notion that I really don't know him. In many ways situations will occur that cause me to tap the brakes on our relationship and that is itself a good thing. But there's new and there's New!

Fella is a creative type; an artist; a passionate soul that feels the world deeply and one of the reasons he has avoided medication for so long is that when smoothing out the lows it smoothes out the highs; the good times aren't so good and it's not a compromise he's considered worthwhile. Have I driven him to it then? It's like some fucking Greek tragedy; to be the people that fell in love is perhaps to destroy that love – but to become someone else devalues it to the point of meaninglessness.

So what is for the best? There's a huge risk of angsty over-analysis of course. Fella, to me, is the living embodiment of Why; I work hard and wish to achieve something with my life and he is the reason for that, given form. So, perhaps it is for the best to say: bollocks to angsty worry about things. Hard work has never frightened me and Lord knows I consciously understand it needs a lot in any relationship. So, let's get to work shall we? After all, we should not discount the possibility that the help might help.

Big Trouble in Little Strumpetville

2010-04-20T22:34:00.004+01:00

Look up gentle reader; just a little. You see there, under the header? Those tags?? Yep, my blog's functionality expands ever more. There's something other than this blog of blogness; there's some good advice.

I've never given good advice, oh my no. I've occasionally hit upon a nugget of gold whilst spewing my stream of... consciousness on this blog. But not more. Nevertheless, I appreciate good advice and – very rarely – sometimes even act on it. And recently I received some stonkingly marvellous advice indeed from my good friends 'A' and 'F'.

So cogent and well written is this advice that I decided, with permission, to reproduce it on this blog BUT in an unedited form, thus making it very long for a post. The solution, but of course, is to show it in a page attached to the blog rather than embed it in a post. Simples, no?

You might like gentle reader, to read the advice after this post and comment on how marvellous and sensible my friends are. The advice itself is from Friend 'A' and was followed up with some cogent and well thought out supporting arguments from 'F'. Both have impressed me and I once again am in their debt. To cut a long story short I took the advice and Fella and I rebalanced our relationship somewhat through a bit of proper discussion and partly through taking a step back and trying not to answer all of life's big questions in such a rush.

Re-reading the advice I am struck by how clever and cogent 'A' and 'F' are, and how shamed I am by my own ability to communicate. I decided to publish despite my suspicion that this saga portrays me (not necessarily wrongly) as a hot-headed angst machine... For now, suffice it to say, I consider myself very very lucky I am to have friends like these. I am sure you will agree.

So what happened? Ah, that is a rather complex and tawdry matter and I fear it says more about me reacting to silliness than silliness itself. Nevertheless, deep breath, every-detail etc... here goes.

I don't really want to have children; Fella does. This is something that has, in passing, been acknowledged as Most Important Thing To Pose A Risk To Our Relationship And That We Have Consciously Not Discussed.

Yes, Not Discussed... So one evening recently Fella became quite upset. And not knowing any obvious cause I pressed him on what was wrong. At first he was reticent to discuss it but eventually he told me it was because he had decided that he and I won't have children, even though it's something he really wants.

And how did I react? By losing my temper really quite badly, really. A huge row ensued, based on my view that a decision like that would be better informed by a discussion with me; and in general it is wrong to make decisions about the rest of my/our life without consulting me. Also, I was an in many ways still am very hurt that Fella would consider me such a monster I would expect him to give up his dreams to be with me. I really, still, feel... How Could He?

Naturally, the night before was followed the morning after by the silent treatment. He does go in for the Silent Treatment from time to time, when peeved… again, rather than talking through issues with me. I know very well I am a p*ss poor communicator, especially in relationships, but I think the silent treatment is very unfair. I just end up sick with worry that he's had an accident, or something. In fact, as I've told [Fella], the silent treatment is pretty much a deal breaker for me. It is a stratagem against which I have no defence and indeed I become quite self-destructive, in truth, once it is deployed, so effective is it a button-pusher.

So much do I hate the Silent Treatment that it genuinely led me to believe, given the low esteem in which I was apparently held by Fella, that I should email an ultimatum suggesting simply end things then and there.

My mind at least had presence enough to ask of 'A' and 'F' their advice/comments/thoughts on how silly I was being, and in particular, on a scale of one to 10, one being a monkey flinging poo and 10 being the freakish love-child of Ghandi and the Blarney Stone, where on the communication scale would an email like that fall.

The reply? Well, look up gentle reader; just a little. You see there, under the header...?

Show me love :-)

2010-04-18T21:17:00.002+01:00

Fella and I show our love in different ways. He likes the quiet-night-in, with cuddles and hugs. And he's very affectionate when we are out and about. Actually he and I have had some hassle when out and about and my feelings for him can manifest as an extraordinary protectiveness (I sometimes need to remind myself he's an adult and can probably make it to the shops by himself if he wants to)

I don't find it easy to discuss the depth of feeling I have for him and when I'm experiencing things with him. I try to show my love through the grand gesture; romance, passion. I am far less subtle than him. I do think, though, we have a good balance: the hugs and cuddles at home; the intimate moments that could come at any time; the cultural and social exploration we embark on together.

Along the way there are the usual milestones. I think Fella in particular takes great delight in making his and our friends vomit themselves into a desiccated husk at how 'loved up' he is... and of course our One Year Anniversary is coming up. Fella boasts of some wonderful gift that he has bought. In my mind it assumes massive proportions of wonderousness. What am I to do, gentle reader?? I cast about and rack my brains. I am on the lookout for the Grand Gesture that will mark the anniversary's passing in appropriate style.

Fortunately events have given me a little bit of a break. You see, Fella rather amusingly booked a trip to Brighton with friends on the very day of our anniversary (15 May). He's never been good with dates, bless 'im. So when I tentatively pointed out the clash of dates he was quite distraught at his spontaneous thoughtlessness. I'll admit I did enjoy twisting the knife just a teensy bit... but the truth is it didn't bother me too much. I'm going along to Brighton with them. It's Strumpetville on Sea, you see, and I haven't been since I was a teenager and spectacularly failed to get into any venues of interest (oh my).

The deal, to "make it up to me" is Fella and I take a couple of hours out for a nice lunch or perhaps dinner, just him and I: and we take a day off either the Friday or the Monday, to celebrate properly.

In many repsects this a but a temporary respite. I still need that gift of gifts. Yes, flowers and chocolate. The infrastructure underpinning the giving of the gifts. I saw some hand-made champagne flutes on the South Bank engraved with hearts, and I thought a pair of them might be a good start. I was tempted with a trip to Berlin but we're going back to Germany in the summer to revisit my motherette anyway... and after Paris it has the air of the Been Done about it. I did think, as Fella likes his wine and his chocolate, about a trip to Vinopolis – a wine theme park in London for a chocolate and wine tasting evening; I am farily sure I'll go for that but it lacks the proper "wow" factor about it.... oh, I don't know. What do you get for someone who isn't materialistic and loves you totally and is content to lie in your arms of an evening?! Ideas on a scented lace postcard, please.

He’s behind you!

2010-04-14T11:02:00.002+01:00

... oh no he isn't!

With my focus on my upcoming anniversary with Fella, another has gone passed entirely unnoticed.

I refer of course, gentle reader, to outs. Two years my stream of... consciousness has assaulted your senses. Can you forgive me? I admire your patients. More than 330 posts have come and gone in all that time. Thank goodness for Fella, or who knows what else you might have had to suffer?!

Actually I hope the last two years haven't been too bad for you. Sine coming out I have tried to keep to a consistent heading of due Fun. Sometimes veering to Not Fun at All; but equally often drifting over to Oh My That Was Remarkable Fun Indeed.

Due to my tendency to hurl onto this blog whatever crosses my pink gin mind, the posts themselves are an accurate reflection of the broad experiences I have had. There has surely been enough time chewing the cud; I don't need to regurgitate past arguments again here. But the tags on each post have accumulated nicely, I think.

The six I have used the most are:

relationships;
dating;
meeting men;
sex;
fella;
friends.

(I put six because friends deserves to be included, no?)

That is a good mix, I feel. I am content. Things are in balance and life in Strumpetville has been going good.

As for the anniversary of Fella and I, my plans have been somewhat thrown by Fella's inadvertently booking a day tip to Brighton with friends on the day itself. Bless him, he feels terrible, but I'm going to go along and we shall have a nice lunch or dinner, just me and him. I think that's a start. That and presents! Also, we have the rest of the weekend and I suggested taking a day off either Monday or Friday to do all the other things we had tentatively begun to plan.

So stick with it, if it pleases you – I think the balance of the tags may change as times goes on. All part of the rich tapestry of being a Cheerful Fairy.

Queen Bee/Busy Bee

2010-04-12T21:50:00.003+01:00

As you know gentle reader I do enjoy being busy. And for a change the cheerful fairy is a busy bee not because of work, but because of all the other things. Actually, since the election was called work has been incredibly quiet. A new financial year when there is no money and no-one knows who will be in charge in a month doesn't quite support the frenetic pace to which I have become used...

The weekend, for example, was very busy. On Friday Fella and I had a colleague of his and mutual friend over for dinner. I hadn't seen her for a little while, partly because my illness has disrupted our social plans.

On Saturday he treated me to a bit of culture – we went to see a play called The Little Dog Laughed. Fellow blogger Made In Scotland saw the play a few months ago and wrote his review then. The day we saw it turned out to be the last day of the run; I have to say from our perspective it was great and the cast appeared to have ironed out the issues MIS identified then. Tamsin Greig was excellent; though the male leads didn't really play with such depth she totally stole the show with her interactions with the audience (though none of them could sustain an American accent). On the other hand the male actors were hot hot hottentot hotties so it's all good.

The play was essentially about a Hollywood movie star considering coming out after meeting a guy and falling for him; and it was, naturally, quite poignant for me so I found it very absorbing. Very funny and very sad. It was very good indeed.

On Sunday I attend the Big Gay Flashmob outside Conservative Party Headquarters with Fella and a few friends. If perchance you are non-British, gentle reader, the Conservatives are the part of Margaret Thatcher. Not very socially enlightened. The party has a real chance of forming the next Government. It pays lip service to equality for homosexuals but it never quite rings true and there are scandals like the comments by a recent prominent Conservative who said, in essence, that in some circumstances people should be free to deny homosexuals services if they so wish (as a matter of personal or religious conviction). Also, the Conservatives are aligned in the European Parliament with some figures alleged to have very right wing views – anti semitic, homophobic etc, which jars with the weasel words on being gay for domestic UK consumption. The party isn't aligned with these people because it's anti-semitic; but they share the same views on preventing further European integration. I don't think that's good enough reason to restrict the rights of 10% of the population. You can see some of the coverage here.

Afterward we all went out for drinks and in Soho met up with various other people until it became quite a boozy affair – my favourite kind to be sure. It was really nice to be in a social group of just gay men. I don't do that enough. The conversation was predictably filthy; and it was a lot of fun.

So that was the weekend that was! All manner of gay stuff and a good mix too. Well, when in Strumpetville...

April Fool!

2010-04-06T19:28:00.002+01:00

I may be recycling my post titles, gentle reader, but I thought it would be apt. Today, you see, I want to be a bit selfish and discuss amongst other things my health.

As blogged before on 1 April I went into hospital for yet more tests to explore and ideally pin down my Symptoms. Fella and I went down to the ward I was booked into and I changed into a not-very-fetching gown and special shorts with special flap at the back for access. Fella was quite distressed actually, which resulted in him – somewhat annoyingly, in my view – being fussed over by nurses to brought him tea and cake. I didn't even get morphine damnit! Well, the hours wore on and eventually I have yet another examination which was remarkable in three ways – it was very, very uncomfortable (they gave me minimum sedation so I could leave more quickly when it was over). I also was able to watch then entire exploration on a TV screen right in front of my face, which was somewhat surreal. Thirdly, a number of biopsies were taken and whilst I couldn't feel the samples being removed the displacement of my internal organs by the biopsing machine (or whatever it's called) was most bizarre.

Afterward the nurses very kindly gave me my report, and a bit of cake for me too – having not eaten for 24 hours I was truly grateful – and then I went home.

Since then my health has been on somewhat of a low ebb, I'm afraid. Alongside the Symptoms there is the niggle that all the easy stuff is slowly being eliminated until rather more serious conditions are all that remain. It is interestingly, or to put it another way, it is soul-crappingly scary, that my symptoms are virtually identical to what one might expect when HIV develops into full blown AIDS. Now, whilst sowing my wild oats I have been careful to guarantee a crop failure and indeed when tested nothing of that sort has ever been detected. But it's not really great news.

So it's time to come clean. Reality check – pesky reality, so rare a visitor to Strumpetville and not a welcome one in any event. What are we dealing with here?

Crohn's disease
Bowel cancer
An unidentified auto-immune disorder
A parasite (yippee)
Madness!

Or any combination of the above, I suppose.

To be honest I am not best pleased. I belong generally to the Stuff and Nonsense school of healthcare. If I ignore the illness it shall go away. Well not this time, it would seem. I wondered today if this is what it's like to be old... everything so tiring, that much more difficult than it used to be. Well, at least I can say Stuff and Nonsense to that! In the meantime I have reached a point where I just want to be well.

Sex and sexability

2010-03-31T20:48:00.001+01:00

Fella and I are monogamous. I’ve always protested [too much] that I would be perfectly happy in a more open arrangement, but I do appreciate our situation much more than I would have expected. Of course with International it was more open than is healthy. With Darren I was just being – perhaps out of necessity – naïve. And with all the other bijou boyfriendettes than came and swiftly went, well who knows what might have been?

My ‘red line’ is honesty. I am not, I think, under too many illusions about the traditional use for good intentions and the destination they lead us to. I saw my parents destroy various marriages with silly games; and I understand the allure – particularly acute for gay men – of a world that offers, and glamorises, easy and casual sex. I do not, however, like drama or secrets. It’s always been to me just so damned petty

Of course I’ve said goodbye to all that now; the internet based hook-ups, the saunas, etc etc… Now I have my gorgeous guy. I have to admit, as we approach our anniversary, it has dawned on me that Fella may well be the last person I ever have sex with!!

As honesty is the best policy I’ll post this: if I’d known, or realised, back in May I would have gone out with more of a bang than a couple of semi-anonymous internet arranged hook-ups between our first and second dates. Conversely a stable monogamous relationship is pretty much the only thing up to now that I’d never tried; so going for it certainly pushes my boundaries.

Don’t get me wrong, and at the risk of being a shameless self-publicist, I spent the last two years pretty much trying anything that took my fancy. Actually, to keep an air of seriousness about things, I’ve been quite lucky. Whilst I avoided anyone/thing (bareback, bondage, priests) that got my alarm bells ringing, I have pretty much trotted off into any scenario with an open mind and not much else to protect me. And, in all that time (as blogged before) I’ve never regretted sex - though the occasional relationship, yes! I’ve had a great time, and learned a lot about what I like – and what doesn’t work for me.

Now that life is behind me. And there are things I will miss. Fella is insanely good in bed and that really helps. Adventurous, experienced, he even does yoga. His talents do not stretch to all my proclivities. I have always particularly enjoyed, for example, group sex. But, and this is the important thing – in bed, as well as out of it he is enough. I find myself challenged by him sexually and I have to work hard to try and keep up, and to... make me worth his efforts.

It’s completely different being in a relationship; making love rather than having sex is a whole different ball game – as it should be, because in many respects it was the object of coming out. I’ve been sensible enough, if that’s the right term, to avoid confusing sex with intimacy but my observation is a lot of guys use casual encounters to experience a deeper connection however fleetingly with another man. I think that’s why I can be comfortable in a group situation; it’s just sex. Of course that isn’t a panacea; being able to rationalise it all away hardly helped me, for instance, when I was with International.

In order to have all the experiences that I have had, and try all the things I wanted to try, I needed to be brave. I’m not so gorgeous that I could walk into/log onto anyplace and be deluged with offers (and Fella is); things needed effort. Motion towards – my goals weren’t coming to find me. I think the same attitudes I brought, if somewhat belatedly, to my sex-life are also worth applying to my relationship. Of course to treat Fella as merely a lover would do a monumental injustice; and be pretty stupid.

What I have really done is learning through play and ultimately the importance of sex to me, and to my relationship, means that with Fella I can’t divorce sex and love as the Rules might suggest. Instead I apply what I have learned, and recognise that I’m still learning.

Uninvited

2010-03-30T22:21:00.001+01:00

My first degree, in physics, was four years rather than three. It was designed to run straight into a PhD or similar… but anyway: what it meant was the happy if by now virtually destroyed student house I had shared for two happy and tumultuous years was disbanded and we friends went our separate ways.

I moved to a flat in east London. It was cheap - and once decorated in the fashion of the time it was certainly mine; I spent a couple of happy years there, graduating and starting my career.

One day, into the flat below mine a man moved in.Irish if memory serves, though goodness knows that’s hardly relevant. He was gay. Probably still is, ha ha…

You may, gentle reader, have experienced those moments, in the early hours, when the world is still but something wakes you up. What was that noise? Is there someone in the house?? Then it fades… and then fitfully we fall asleep and it’s all alright, mostly forgotten by the morning.

What I know is that when there is someone there it sounds very different. When there is someone coming up the stairs you wake up and face nothing but stone cold certainty that something is very, very wrong. And there you are, in the dark, your only guides a pounding heart and adrenal glands that really work. I have never been more certain, there in the dark, of anything. There was someone coming up the stairs.

The funny bit – not funny ha ha though - is that turning on the light helped that certainty; there was a monster there. That man, standing there. Like the fool I am my first instinct was to help. This situation isn’t right; there must be something I can do? After all the man was the man from downstairs, though how he got in the wee small hours we cannot tell. But we know what he got in for, oh now we do, oh yes.

I remember what happened next somewhat imperfectly. Physical proximity far beyond the line; things happening even when it was clear that was most unwelcome. Trying to bargain my way out of the situation. Tasting blood… a weird sensation like… he was trying to break my back…?

A little while later the sun came up and I ended up going to work about four hours early. During the day I confided in a friend, and after that I was made to call the police. I’m not sure if that helped or hurt – they didn’t prosecute but ultimately, if somewhat ironically, the guy actually apologised for what he’d done. How bizarre.

So there it is, gentle reader. One of the defining moments of my life, even if I don’t let it define me. It is, in some way, one of the main reasons I came out so late. And it’s very difficult to explain or discuss. But worse things happen to better people and whilst, like many things, coming out didn’t make it go away at least I have the life I should have.

little fluffy (pink) clouds

2010-03-28T22:51:00.001+01:00

I try to have some measure of insight; the reality is I’m probably as selfish and blinkered as most other people. Plus a tad over-sensitive on occasion, but unremarkable beyond that.

Nevertheless sometimes events force a shard of light to pierce the rose-tinted cloud surrounding me as I cheerfully breeze through life; and, as you might have guessed gentle reader, this id one of them there times!

As you know I have been ill for a wee while and am being poked and prodded by a variety of professionals, presumably as poetic justice for the jobs I’ve done over the last few years. Well, it seems on 1 April (see what I mean?) I need to go into hospital for a procedure that will involve sedation – and therefore I need someone to look after me, take me home once it’s done.

The thing is… Fella and I had plans on 31 March and he had plans in the evening of 1 April. Him looking after me would involve him changing and cancelling those plans respectively . I feel terribly guilty for being a burden on him: I don’t want him to miss things he’d enjoy just to play nursemaid to the Cheerful Fairy…

Well, actually let’s be honest. It’s a paradox really. I don’t want to be the kind of boyfriend that would expect his man to change his plans to look after him. But, and this is the thing: I want to have a boyfriend who would want to to change his plans to look after me, and not out of no sense of obligation neither.

Fortunately for you, gentle reader ,no angst ridden crisis to report today – no, this post is about insight and epiphany!

Normally I am very busy at work, but I pride myself on making the time to give Fella as much time as he wants and needs, by text, email or on the phone. But whilst I have been on leave our roles have reversed to some extent – he is also, coincidentally very busy at work – and so breaking the news of my upcoming appointment and all the changes that needed to be made was quite tough. He didn’t’ have time to talk; and he really wasn’t best pleased – I could tell – about having to change his social plans. All in all I felt that I was intruding on his time. Making a nuisance of myself if you will.

Well, talk about the boot being on the other foot! I did realise that I can be quite like that with him from time to time. Well, actually a lot more than that. And I felt very sad about that. He’s never complained but I think I probably shouldn’t be so proud of my time management skills. Hell/crap/damn; I probably shouldn’t be time managing my relationship at all!!

With our big plans and the things we both want to do together in the future, I am absolutely committed to working hard and doing something with my life not just for me, but for us. I just didn’t realise there was a risk of damage to our relationship in the short and medium term, in that ambition and sheer sticktoitiveness may lead me to neglect the work a relationship needs to succeed.

Funnily enough Fella felt bad about being short with me on the phone; he needn’t have of course. But it is good to know that I can do better and we can do better. And that I have a man who wants to look after me – just as I want to look after him.

Hausfrau

2010-03-25T18:49:00.001Z

I have taken a couple of weeks off work gentle reader . Not for any particular reason, you understand, but to use up my annual leave. Or at least some; as a public sector employee I have a realtively generous allowance of 37 days; given the hours I have to sometimes work it’s impossible to take it all and even with these two weeks I still lose a few days.

Fortunately my projects are finished; it is the end of the financial year; and with a general election in the offing there are few new workstreams being initiated.

Now, I could very much get used to this not-working business. In my daydreams I can see myself as a gentlefairy of leisure; long walks in the morning, improving my mind in my private library in the afternoon, and entertaining in the evening…

So far I’ve spring-cleaned my rooms; and taken in my laptop for a service (it’s breaking down, but fortunately Fella has lent me his in the interim). I am going to the gym every day, and certainly feeling – and seeing – the benefits. In other news my masters application has been submitted; fingers crossed about that. I shall be a dreadfully embarrassed fairy if I don’t get in.
Tomorrow I’m going back into hospital for yet more pokingand prodding. My Big Important Appointment is on 26 April so with luck all my tiresome health worries will be dealt with by the beginning of May.

Domestically all continues apace. It seems Camberwell is very much likely to be Fella’s London residence – again, moving at the beginning of May. It will be nice to have him in London for our one year anniversary in the middle of that month. This works out rather well as it gives me a couple of months to get myself together before I take the plunge and make my move.

Timely, then, that I came across a social housing provider that offers properties for a subsidised rent in return for the promise to buy somewhere in five years’ time. This fits in with the plan rather nicely and therefore I’m giving serious thought to getting my own place again…

Movement

2010-03-17T21:48:00.000Z

I’m told by my friend in China that the year of the tiger is an unlucky one for us snakes. I’m not sure I subscribe to that; but so far this week I haven’t won the lottery; my Amazon order has gone missing; my computer (only five months old, mark you) needs a new hard drive – which will apparently take two weeks; and I spent a large portion of Tuesday with a pregnant woman shoving things up my bottom.

But more of that later…

Fella and I are very largely compatible but there is still some work to do to have a meeting of minds. We both, for example, like classical music; for me it’s baroque, for him the romantic. We both like to dance, but we both like to lead! It isn’t a case of so near yet so far, but rather a refreshing way of getting a new perspective on things. A meeting of minds works better, surely, if you have to think!

Fella, it seems, has found somewhere to live. He’s become taken with a flat in an area of Strumpetville known as Camberwell. It’s shared with two other gay guys, and he might even move there in a couple of weeks. Unfortunately it’s not very convenient for where I am, but I suppose I can move somewhere closer when he’s all settled…

Looking at places with him I found myself in a somewhat unusual situation; it was really difficult to consider various domiciles critically from his perspective. Would he like living there; can he afford it? Naturally I would like somewhere that is easy for me to get to and from, and somewhere that I would feel comfortable staying over. I realise that’s very selfish and in fact I am quite happy to support him in whatever choice he makes. But it does involve some tongue biting and a suspension of self interest that I’m not really used to – except in the background “in a relationship” sense, and for the first time swallowing my own opinions entirely for the good of him (as opposed to us).

Perhaps it’s just a case of “we fear change”. I’m confronted with the reality of a situation that I’ve discussed and thought about but never been. And that’s a bit weird; after all my other relationships have been with people who at least had their own place and it never concerned me one way or another what or where that was.

As for me, my visit to the hospital was not very pleasant, or hugely productive, but a small step forward tests beget tests, gentle reader, much as angst begets angst. My consultant was a very nice, very matter of fact and very pregnant doctor who thoroughly and vocally disapproved of my referral for a surgical consultation but after a very personal examination indeed (with, at the risk of being off-colour, quite a good technique in my view) it has been decided I need to go in for a bit of surgery to collect some biopsy samples.

So lots of changes happening at the moment. It seems April will be a productive month!

Domesticity

2010-03-13T20:38:00.002Z

Right now both Fella and I are looking for places to live. It’s a peculiar dance that we do; who will move first?

He needs to move back to London, out of the (very salubrious and welcoming, to be sure) parental home: for the convenience; to be near to me; work; friends (not necessarily in that order).

I would like to move because after a year with the Gardener his ways are beginning to grate – as those of you who are friend to me on Facebook may know perhaps too well! Suffice it to say, kind and generous though he is in so many ways, his lack of consideration and peculiar ways in others makes me think it is time to get going.

Today both Fella and I looked at a number of properties; and no doubt we will make our respective choice in due course. Doing this has been most helpful for me in one respect – that of the Next Step of the Big Plan.

You know the Big Plan right, gentle reader? We all have one – the mortgage/marriage/children/death plan. I have alluded to mine – or, perhaps better, ours – when I occasionally lift my rose-tinted glasses to spy the glitter of diamond rings in the distance.

Anyway, anyway; what does occur to me is that the bestest best thing is for Fella to get his London pad.

Yes, that’s it. Sometimes we needn’t make more sophisticated arguments than the ones right in-front of us. When he’s in London the pressure of careful planning when and how we can be together is lifted; plus a couple of days at mine a weeks translates to a couple of days at his – and a couple of days apart.

Thus the less good pressures on my domestic situation are ameliorated somewhat. I have an escape clause and a lesser need to need the Gardener to my will [oo-er].

Fella wants his own space. For an angst ridden yet Cheerful Fairy like Strumpella this desire is normally guaranteed to make me Angsty McAngst. But it’s reasonable. He needs HIS space and it’s ideal that he’d be a few short minutes away from me (our proximity a precondition you see).

Anyway, anyway, I alluded to a plan, a plan… And here it is. A plan within a plan if you will: He moves, takes a year lease and at the end of the lease… well then we move in together. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to make it two years hehe! But the plans remains...

What can I tell you? It’s so good to be here. This point in my life works; everything’s coming together nicely. I’m no fool – much more a coward than an idiot – I know there’ll be downs as well as ups. But, and this is the very thing about the plan; it averages out as UP. And I’m never happier than right up Fella ;-)

Das ist Gut!

2010-03-08T22:28:00.002Z

Another week between posts! I hope you will forgive me… I fear I neglect your lovely eyes; it’s just that I’ve been busy … fortunately it hasn’t been with work so much – indeed, as I’m due to go into hospital for my *ahem* close up next week I have taken a few days off so I can relax and enjoy myself.

Running and swimming is going well. Indeed, I’ve lost a bit of weight and fancy my swimming has benefitted me a bonny bit of boobage already – but permit me my conceit! For all is well, so very well, with the world*

Yes, I do fear the Cheerful Fairy finds Strumpetville a happy place gentle reader. And for that I apologise. You see, from a position of loved up contentedness it is difficult to contrive the cut and thrust of… well, “being stabbed in the heart by the cruel knife of relationship angst punctuated by repeated bouts of agreeable, if casual, sex” (I put quotation marks as I briefly considered that as a title for this blog; but it doesn’t quite trip off the tongue!)

What is the cause of my contentedness? Why – and I appreciate you may vomit yourself into a desiccated husk at any moment – Fella of course.

C’mon; this blog does sometimes occupy the niche between Jane Austen and “two girls, one cup”. I can’t believe it’s a shade under 10 months that he and I have been together, and so far things are going great. Lord knows I tried, but bless his heart I can’t seem to shake him. Lucky I adore him, no?

On Friday he and I went to a party; friends of his that are now friends of ours – two ladies who are engaged and saving every penny for their wedding. They earned my heart by organising Fella’s 30th birthday party; and it was our turn to return the favour.

Of course a great time was had by all… indeed, there is a good four-hour portion of my memory entirely absent, that I am assured during which I was ‘hilarious’. Uh oh. Then on Saturday we went out to the Green Carnation in Soho for another now-mutual friend’s birthday, and on Sunday a quiet day in punctuated by a visit to view a charming and ideally-located house I am interested in moving into (more on that later).

Presumably Fella enjoyed the weekend at least as much as I did because he did something that meant a disproportionately large amount to me: he updated his Facebook status to indicate he is in a relationship with me.

His profile had always been studiously silent on his orientation and other related matters and while I deeply desired it to be similar to mine – as open as the moon and skies, indeed – I could hardly complain or fuss about something so inconsequential to proper grown ups :-(

The change caught me by surprise and pleased me absolutely enormously; as did his status promise to be more appreciative! Well, I showed him I appreciated him oh yes…

Long and short of it is - I must be doing something right! Yay!! Now, have you finished being sick yet?

Pinch and a punch...

2010-03-02T22:00:00.001Z

So here we are, the beginning of March… winter is coming to an end and spring is on its way. Although winter doesn’t end for a further three weeks – officially – I can sense it has already passed. The sunlight is stronger; the mornings are alive with the dawn chorus as the birds all sing “fuck off out of my tree” each day. It feels good.

I’ll admit the last couple of weeks I’ve been feeling a bit down which is probably at the root of a number of things. However, that’s pretty much over (give or take) so it would probably be good to take stock and see what’s occurring…

Well, my application for my masters degree has progressed to the point where, though not quite ready to be signed, sealed and delivered, and very nearly there. Both my employer and the university have helped me with getting things sorted, and know an application is on its way. I should be set to finish this within a week or so – with a bit of effort!

I have been running and swimming, which is good. Well, the sight of Frumpella lumbering about can’t be described as ‘good’ (even though I got a couple of wolf-whistles today). But we’ll get there.

On the very very down side, when going through my gym induction something was found that suggested I had wider and more severe health problems than known. Today I went back to my doctor and the issue was confirmed; I have very very high blood pressure and now it’s back on the roller-coaster ride of tests and pills and what not. I’m becoming always a bridesmaid, never a bride, with all my illnesses. 32 and falling apart due to causes unknown!! Well, more of that in due course no doubt.

Work is picking up again after a brief eye-of-the-storm lull. I have been approached by people enquiring after my interest in this position or that once this current project is done; and the yare indeed interesting so more of that in due course too.

But on the very very up side I’m seeing my gorgeous man tomorrow as we’re going to the cinema. Hurrah! I was thinking just today as I prepared for his arrival by tidying my space up a bit, how much hearing him laugh is my favourite sound. And how much I like watching him sleep.

We’ve had our ups and downs recently but even at our lowest ebb I would far rather be with him than not! So, as it is Easter and he’s doing such a good job of looking after me I was thinking – just thinking, gentle reader - about whisking him away to Dublin for Easter. It’s certainly time to think about our next holiday!

Stormclouds

2010-02-28T21:55:00.001Z

One night a week is date night. Our night. Common to couples, but for us because we’re quite “long distance” the one night in the week we spend together is important.

Usually it’s Wednesdays, a tradition that evolved because Wednesdays are Orange Wednesdays – where my mobile phone company, the eponymous Orange, gives its customers buy-one get-one-free on cinema tickets.

Last week, however, Fella wanted to make it Thursday as he would be in town after work having drinks with colleagues; and that therefore it might be nicer if I were to join him and we then went home, had a nice dinner (cooked by him) and watched a film (picked by me).

Looks good to me…

So, then, Thursday comes around and I’m a bit tired after work but I go along and a couple of hours but around 8:30 I said I was a bit tired and could we leave? Fella on his part said it would be rude to leave just then as food had just arrived etc… well, it went on to become a bit of an argument so we agreed I would leave and he would come later.

The time apart became a Big Frosty Silence between as it became apparent that he had no intention of coming home at an early hour and I became gradually more and more annoyed. I mean, this is time spent with people he sees all day Monday to Friday. We spend Wednesday nights, Friday night, Saturday and every other Sunday together [which thinking about it probably works out a bit more time, but that does include sleep!!]. I was very… disappointed (*sigh*) that he would want to spend date night with them and not me!

But, one in the eye for the Universe methinks, Frumpella did not become the passive-aggressive conniption queen. No. Quite the reverse… a bit cunning, this Cheerful Fairy, oh yes.

You would have been proud gentle reader, for I told Fella that when he got home we should talk. And that’s what we did. By and large. Voices were raised from time to time but actually the discussion was all grown up and productive. We both said out price and I think we both had valid things the other needed to take on board.

Let this blog be too one sided, let me impart Fella’s criticisms: I never want to stay out when it’s HIS friends and colleagues. I’m always too tired to enjoy myself in their company. Yet I can go out until all hours with MY friends on a whim, anytime, with no ill effects. In fact his annoyance at this very thing was the root of the silent treatment I posted about in Aggravation and Maturity – yes, I was right (!) he was giving me the cold shoulder.

But also I take his point; I should make more of an effort to join in when he’s doing things; and probably let him go out and enjoy himself if he wants to. We did both agree this gets a lot easier as and when Fella moves back to London because then things can take place as and when required.

Fortunately Fella and I are fine; Thursday night and into Friday he was very loving, and we had a relaxed weekend, eating take-out and watching Will and Grace and Sex and The City, going for long walks, and having the Us time that was the root of all the anxiety in the first place.

So there we have it. A bit of a row; a bit of angst; all useful to clear the air. But I think it does underline how our relationship is changing, settling down, evolving… two steps forward, one step back!

Many thanks to my good friend F for this video!

Aging

2010-02-24T22:00:00.002Z

Today my colleagues and I went for out second run training for our 5k in April. We’ve been running around St James’s Park; at 2.1km three circuits is enough to keep us ready. It takes me about 10 minutes at a steady measured pace to go around the park; I think we should aim to get to a point where we can do the 5k in about 20 minutes; maybe a shade less.

One of us taking part is a guy a few years younger than me and also gay. He seems to compete with me quite openly to be the official gayer in the group. It’s weird for me, to be challenged in this way. You see, gentle reader, I often have a love/hate fascination for younger gay guys. I tend to find young and pretty guys quite annoying – essentially because I’m not one of them any more. Part of the reason I go for older men I suppose...

I myself am acutely aware of my mortality and, essentially, that – dimly I perceive - I’m not 18 any more. Much more than I should be I think. I’m beginning to feel I’m getting older. More mature; aging disgracefully. And I resent it.

Young gay guys who are out, on the scene, enjoying themselves are doing something I never did. Going for the older gentleman in many ways betrayed my lack of experience. I met a small number of guys about my age, maybe younger, just coming out as I was and without exception they were going for ‘teacher’ types too. We didn’t keep in touch…

I was young and pretty once. Not ever prize-winning looks; but I do feel I’ve entered a world obsessed with youth and beauty riding the absolute last train I could get. And now I’m jogging alongside someone who rather sensibly jumped on board somewhat earlier than I!

Being critical of what I’ve just written I would say (a) I needed – and still need – to take better care of myself and coming out was areal boost to that and (b) I’ve always been a bit insecure of my looks, and going out on a limb – whilst never wrong – wasn’t really helpful.

So is this all a bit shallow? I am concerned, you see, that I’m running out of goes, for the want of a better expression. One of the reasons I threw myself into men, whether it be boyfriend or otherwise, was because I considered I had left myself a very narrow window of opportunity.

I'm not so concerned about my colleague as I am reminded how I do regret coming out so late. But with that comes a recognition I kinda need to grow up to stay young. If I’d been different my life would have been different I honestly wouldn’t want that. I’d still be 32, slightly frumpy and with challenged follicles… but would I have my Fella? My friends? Would I have grabbed these opportunities or let them pass me by in youthful ignorance? Being in my thirties really works for me, so let’s look forward rather than think about what could have been… and let me get my beauty sleep.

Maturity

2010-02-22T22:32:00.002Z

Treat this post, if you will gentle reader, as part two. I will confess, due in no small part to your kind words, that I did not act on my earlier impulse of confronting Fella. No, instead I did a little growing up.

Growing up is something a Cheerful Fairy does tend to avoid. I can’t afford the wrinkles, at the very least. Immaturity has an allure I am loath to let go.

Yet here I am. An actual boyfriend to an actual boy.

POW. Cue epiphany!

Fella came home on Friday and he was dead tired. So much so I thought it was kinder simply not to mention it at all and to have a pleasant evening. And the evening became the whole weekend and it seems he was quite pleased to pay me as much attention as my little heart could desire. So as such the issue simply faded away. A lucky escape? Who knows.

Now, I know I came across as a bit needy and insecure when I posted my last post. That is probably due to being a bit needy and insecure. Well, at the moment I do feel a bit out of sorts. I’m still ill and there’s only so long I can be busy at work before I become a bit ‘tired and emotional’. The cure for that of course is to continue down the road I set for myself – study ,exercise, good lurvin *ahem*.

Also, there is only so long I can ignore the preponderance of good advice and observations I’ve received since starting this blog – the big, positive, unintended consequence of pouring out… well, whatever occupies my pretty little head at any point.

So, a bit of growing up. It’s part and parcel of a wider change. I’m tired of making plans but rarely realising them. I’m tired of trying to please everybody and ending up pleasing nobody – especially myself. There still needs to be a little further effort before I am all at peace with myself.

What has this to do with Fella and I? Well, we’re fine. I’m still not entirely happy at all about this step change in our communication 'regime'; but as a relationship develops this will occur and if he’s going to wind down our communication when we’re not physically together then so be it. This relationship will develop and elements of it will ebb and flow with their own strange tides; no Canute am I.

A friend pointed out to me today that I can MAKE the time to communicate with Fella because, in her view, I can become uniquely focussed when I want something. As compliments go, I rather like it. Now I just need to realise when I done got what I want; as, with Fella, I have.

Aggravation

2010-02-19T21:27:00.001Z

Sometimes I worry about the state of my relationship with Fella. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits and while we have one or two real Issues to contend with generally things have been very good.

A while ago a very kind reader left a comment about the difficult eight to 12 month stage in a relationship, and at the time I gave it little thought but the whooshing noise our nine month milestone made as it went past has filled what might be considered a thoughtful pause.

On Wednesday Fella and I talked about where we are at the moment. We agreed that the novelty value of our relationship is wearing off – but that in itself is no bad thing. I tried to get a reassurance that he spends every Wednesday at mine because he wants to, not because he feels he has to – but that didn’t work so my fears are not allayed as well I had intended. Having said that we have a perfectly lovely evening and all was well.

The of course today, and we come to the crux of the matter gentle reader. Normally Fella and I email and text each other over the course of the day. It’s all perfectly banal; but it makes up in some ways for the fact we only have half the week or so together.

On my part it is sometimes difficult given how busy I can be at work [yawn] but I always Make The Time. Because Fella is absolutely the most important thing.

Today I emailed, texted, phone his mobile and his office in an attempt to get in touch. Over the course of the day when I hadn’t heard from him I began to get increasingly concerned – really quite worried. I recognise there’s a good measure of paranoia in there, but I was filled with all manner of dark thoughts. He’s ill. He’s been kidnapped. *Gasp* he’s found this blog!!

So, to cut a long story short, I decided to go up to the Church where he is working tonight and see him in person to check what’s up.

On arrival, when I ask, he simple tells me he was “too busy” to reply to me.

Well… good then. I’m a little shocked if truth be told. The purpose of this post therefore is not to air my dirty laundry in public – but rather to think out loud about WTF that’s all about.

I’m somewhat on the back foot; unsure how best to go about tackling what I think is pretty shabby treatment. Of course he doesn’t have to email me at all if he’d rather not. He’s under no real obligation to communicate total twaddle in the day. But a simple “I’m too busy to talk today, speak later X” should not be too much to ask. What I really don’t expect is being totally ignored when I specifically explain I’m very concerned and need to know that he’s OK.

Well, he’s on his way over here now for the customary start to our weekend. I don’t want a row, but then I don’t think I can leave it. What a tightrope to walk!

Lent

2010-02-16T21:47:00.000Z

Today was Pancake Day. Fella and I had our pancakes at the weekend; and no, that isn’t a euphemism. But, as today is the start of Lent I have resolved thusly: to be less crap and get things done. And I’m giving up spending – or at least wasting - money too.

I’m doing this because I’ve been feeling a bit uncertain of myself recently. Worried about my looks, my health, my career, my relationship, my… personality. I’m a worrier, gentle reader. There’s no surprise there and little I can do about it, except meet my concerns head on and do the very best I can.

So, for Lent, I’ve decided I’m going to do the following:

1. complete my Masters application, including my application for funding, by the end of February.

2. Develop and stick to a weekly exercise regime – the first part of which has been to, somewhat precipitately, sign up for a 5k run (in April) with some colleagues.

3. Cut back my working hours to 50 or so a week (ha ha); and within two weeks develop a proper business case for some projects I want to take forward in 2010 and 2011 to win funding and take greater control over my career direction.

4. Replace booze and caffeine with antioxidants and herbal tea; mainly because this Fairy has been so very Cheerful – indeed extremely so on many an occasion - for so long it’s [more than] beginning to show.

5. Make a much more concerted effort to dress well and, you know, pull off the suave sophisticated bit more often. And to worry less when it doesn’t work!

I’m sure that seems a lot, but half of it is stuff I’m doing anyway and it’s six weeks to Easter…

The final part is saving money. Being with Fella these past nine months has been wonderful but it has involved haemorrhaging money and that has to stop. I’m happy to spend money; a gym membership; new clothes; gifts and holidays for me and Fella. But most importantly I am financially a bigger earner than Fella and I should being to act like it, no?

They say (that famous Them, you know) that writing a list and setting targets is a good and cathartic start to getting things done. Sometime I wonder if my problem isn’t planning but finishing what I started. Well, tune in early April gentle reader and see what in my rippling and bling gorgeousness might be seen.

Valentine

2010-02-15T21:36:00.001Z

February 14th marked my first Valentine ’s Day in a proper relationship. Darren feel between two stoops in that we went from April to October; and International and I ended things a few weeks before the event last year.

So: hurrah for milestones… etc.

The weekend passed quite smoothly, bar the small hiccup of some cross words on Saturday night – entirely started by me getting huffy; but then Frumpella can be a dick sometimes. Still, overall, I think it is agreed, a lovely weekend was enjoyed by all.

On Friday we went out, Fella and I, with some friends for a boozy evening in the pub before heading home for a decent night’s sleep and a very long lie-in on Saturday morning. Fella was working on Saturday so after a nice early dinner he and I went to St James’s and I sat in on the concert there; some Mozart and Haydn played by Belsize Baroque.

After that we went home and ended up watching trash on the tele until the early hours, thus brining us to the main event.

First things first; for breakfast Fella got pancakes with strawberries, maple syrup and lemon curd, and pink champagne.

Then it was time for the gifts. I gave him a lovely warm dressing gown; a box of chocolates; and a compendium of love letters by famous men and women (a la Sex and the City!). He gave me a box of chocolates; some prosecco, and a ring (the proudly adorns my right hand). Most touching of all he gave me a hand made Valentine’s card, the front of which was a photo of us taken at the ball.

In the evening we went to a restaurant in Soho that I chose, with some trepidation, due to the reviews it had been given for both food and service. Now, Fella is a foodie and we think little of spending three figures on posh nosh once in a while… so it was a tough choice to pick somewhere less well appointed. But, as it turned out gentle reader, I done chose well.

The restaurant held its small upstairs dining room for Valentine’s couples; nine tables for two. We were the first to arrive and during our time there, there were never more than five couple at any given time. The décor was very modern, the food was absolutely delightful and the service attentive without being intrusive. Fella was amused that we were sat between a gay female couple and a pair of argumentative northerners. It added for him a certain je ne sais quoi.

There we have it then. All over now. A slight down now it’s past, a certain petit mort… but on the other hand what better way to see us past the nine-month mark? I think this song (as always) sums it up...

Mark

2010-02-08T22:17:00.000Z

This weekend was very messy and I am once again ready to foreswear the grape and the grain. Bleurgh! Saturday out till 4am and Sunday until 2:00, it’s an early night on the Monday I’m drafting this. Bleurgh…

Two very interesting things happened this weekend. The second was Fella DEMANDING to be proposed to. Eek! I do hope he realises it won’t happen on Sunday.

The first is a bit more proper-grown-up (boo).

Before meeting Fella et al in town on Saturday night, quite out of the blue, Mark of invisible boyfriend fame got in touch.

Now I’ve never been one to keep in touch with people I’ve dated. I kind-of tried with International but it fizzled out; c’est la vie.

So on Saturday Mark got in touch – we always lived quite close so we’d seen each other around – and as he sounded quite miserable I thought I would give it a go. OK, so it was a bit mean of me, but if he’d been really cocky and expected me to drop everything and go round then it would have been different. Nevertheless, there is a bit of me that kinda kinda wanted to see if he was happy or unhappy without me…

Of course in reality it was nothing like that. We had a couple of glasses of wine and talked at some length. He did want… me to stay. Kept touching me in that flirty way (you know, that way). I did think he was rather nicer to me then, then when we had been seeing each other. Ha ha. *Ahem*.

But of course I did not do anything; didn’t want to. But I didn’t get what I really wanted – a vicarious thrill. An “Aha! You were wrong to treat me the way you did, and as ye sow so ye shall reap!!”.

No, as with all things in life it was rather more subtle than that. It was the guy who isn’t happy in his job, and who still hasn’t got round to painting his living room. Single; looks the same; talks the same… it was, in fact still him.

What’s the point of this post then, you might well ask gentle reader. Well, I can only conclude that I’m not the same me as I was. I suppose that’s a good thing, so in a sense the joke’s on me. If you’re going to hold a mirror up, make sure you know which way it’s facing.

It was nice though. I could be tiresome and call it closure. I think that gives the whole encounter too much credit. It is good to know that there’s a lot more still to exploring relationships and my sexuality and that I was never dumped because I’m a total freak. Hurrah!

Sex etc

2010-02-04T20:50:00.002Z

On 16 March I’m going into hospital. Basically I’m having a camera crew up my bottom to check why the world keeps falling out of it. It did occur to me then to wonder if they could tell, to put it coarsely, if there is any tread left on the tyres of whether it’s like throwing a hosepipe down a hallway.

I am being coarse, gentle reader, I know. Not least because I have a dedication to my pelvic floor verging on the obsessive. But there has been a fair bit of traffic this last couple of years and while it isn’t done to kiss and tell I think I’ve given a good account of myself.

So, a while back I decided that I wanted to have a lot more sex with men, and therefore pretending not to be a massive ‘mo would have to go. And while I’ve had cause to consider my erstwhile relationships a bit of a roller coaster, I’ve never regretted encountering any of the people I’ve chosen to have sex with. Sometimes it’s been fantastic; sometimes… interesting. But worthwhile.

I don’t particularly regret that the first time I had sex with a man it was under the stairs at a party. I’m not sorry that a large proportion of my sex life has consisted of casual fucks. I’m glad I’ve pretty much been super careful and that I’ve gone into any situation informed and when I felt ready to.

The reality is someone somewhere will always have had more sex, better sex, will be considered sexier, be better at seducing guys, whatever… I’ve never wanted to treat sex as a competition. Nevertheless I like sex and enjoy indulging in it frequently; and I’ve let – as a consequence, known if not wilfully sought, of coming out – sex be a big part of my sexuality.

But! I’ve always preferred sex with someone I know, rather than a one-night-stand or casual assignation. I don’t know why – causal sex is great fun and can be a lovely way to pass the time. Nevertheless, it has struck me that a lot of gay men treat causal sex as a way of getting intimate, not just getting off. I myself have always refrained from confusing sex and intimacy – God forbid, love. Come and go, as it were – within the bounds of common good manners. I think that’s why I’ve been fond of group sex in the past, and had a range of friends-with-benefits in one form or another.

Now I’m in a stable, monogamous relationship. The Bad Boyfriend part of me would argue that the average man has sex 165+ times a year; and from experience getting up the average when single takes quite a lot of work. The Good boyfriend part of me argues that it’s worth sacrificing casual sex for a lifetime of making love. All the Cheerful Fairy knows is that Fella is by far the best lover I’ve ever had, and knowing that things will get better and better is no small help in smoothing the bumps on the rocky road of love.

As Dan Savage put it gay men don’t have sex like this because they’re gay; they do it because they’re men (a whorehouse staffed with volunteers is a rather apt phrase he uses). We need a restraining influence to manage sex healthily. No regrets and I’m not yet done swinging from the chandeliers. But that cup of tea would be great round about now. And afterwards, take your clothes off…

Evening All

2010-02-02T21:11:00.002Z

This is the first evening in a couple of weeks that I’ve had to myself, in that I don’t have to work at home after my time in the office. My project has reached a phase where I’m somewhat redundant. My plans are for others to execute [lightning crashes; maniacal laughter]. Having worked so hard for so long, now seeing it pay off is bitter-sweet.

Fortunately February is a bit of a social whirlwind for me. On Saturday, for example, I have been invited to two concerts and a birthday party, so busy busy busy there. A pirate themed birthday party in Soho does call to me… but a neighbour is having a gig in town so I may do that first.

Of course it’s the weekend after that really interests me. I make no apologies for wanting a proper, proper Valentine’s day. I want a card and chocolates and champagne and flowers and some time that doesn’t involve any of those things or clothes at all. So there.

But – and this is where the Cheerful Fairy comes into his own, gentle reader – I got me a proper boyfriend and relationships being, somewhat tiresomely, about giving as well as taking I have a plan…

Since the New Year Fella’s life has been punctuated by a series of losses. Nothing major – not like family, anyway. He lost a funky pair of blue shoes; my Christmas present to him of a knitted scarf; his MP3 player… well, a lot of things. On Friday night he was in floods of tears after losing his glasses under circumstances I’ll blog about later…

Well, I can’t go back in time. But I can be romantic. Oh yes! So, here’s my plan for the run up to Valentine’s day *giggle*

I’m going to buy him a replacement for the shoes, scarf and MP3 player. But, rather than merely present them, this is what I’m thinking of doing:

On the Thursday night I intend (somehow – details are yet to be fully thought through) to put a box, wrapped in shiny red paper, and containing the new shoes on his desk for him to find Friday morning.

On Saturday I will give him the scarf.

And on Sunday at a dinner in a location to be confirmed – my treat of course – I intend to give him the MP3 player.

A series of presents to make a lovely romantic weekend. OK, so I haven’t fully thought it through and the gaps tend to be filled with champagne and flowers but it’s a start. A good start. Being gay, male and pragmatic I imagine the weekend will go rather well for me too ;-)

Kreativ Blogger Award

2010-02-02T20:19:00.004Z

Ah, finally some recognition. Well, it would seem there is a meme...

1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award

Thanks to Nik the Greek. He has a funny blog that, as so many are, is better than mine. I linked to his blog after being absorbed reading his stories and seeing much of what I myself wanted to express therein.

2. Copy the award logo and place it on your blog

3. Link to the person who nominated you

Nik The Greek

4. List seven things about yourself that other people might find interesting

Ah well, there you have me… I can list seven things anyway. I am German; have a degree in physics; before I became an official fairy I had two long-ish term girlfriends; I intensely dislike being photographed; I had a dog named Pi; I have a fondness for white wine; I secretly think I have a really nice body!

5. Nominate seven Kreativ Bloggers

There are loads of blogs better than mine, a tiny fraction listed here are ones I particularly like.

Final Girl – an absolutely hilarious blog of a lady who reviews horror films for a living

Made In Scotland – a touching, funny and deep blog of a great guy living in London with his husband; a person top whom I owe many thanks.

Much Ado About Monty – a blog by someone on the other side of the world and ahead of me in the nice guy/gay guy/love and life stakes.

It’s All About Me – gay pagan who has adventures and seems to have a good head on his shoulders, as well as being another really nice guy…

Gay Socrates – a truly intelligent and in-depth blog of someone who has a lot of wisdom to share. Invaluable insights and feedback for someone like me

Love Gay Sex – a funny and well written blog of a gay guy in Southern England observing the facets of his life. Excellent reading.

The Coterie of Zombies – by a very talented artist, this witty and often dark blog is a doorway to all manner of beautiful and amazing ideas and images.

6. Link to their blogs – well,, you can do on the right here…

7. Tell them you’ve nominated them… done

Looking ahead...

2010-01-26T21:54:00.001Z

It’s almost February. Yes, this is the first of many startling revelations in this post!

No, nothing remarkably new to report. Work remains busy, but I dimly perceive we’ve passed the peak of this particular project so I can get back into a more regular work/life balance.

Tomorrow I am seeing Fella. We’re having a quiet night in, a film, a nice dinner. I want to buy him a present of some sort because helped me find a restaurant for Thursday night too. That is when I’m out with ‘A’ and ‘F’ and – this is how long it’s been – I can give them their Christmas present; I picked them up in Germany and I got them each a book too so I hope they will like them.

Friday we’re going out to a club… I’m not sure of the details ,but Fella won it in some kind of competition. It’s important I reign in my work commitments as I’m on strict instructions to have my dancing legs on!

This in turn leads us to a quiet weekend…

My mission for February is to spend as little money as humanly possible. I need to save and because Fella has a much lower income than I do I feel guilty when he buys things. To stray off topic for a moment; he and I visited friends for lunch on Sunday and we alighted on the topic of living together. I’ve got a rough idea of how much he can afford to spend on rent; and he seemed keen on paying half the rent were we ever to share a home. Unfortunately if what he can afford were half the rent, then the rent would be no more than what I can pay on my own.

I therefore suggested he pays what he can afford; I pay what I can afford and we both get to live somewhere nice than we could have had separately.

Anyway, I have a decent income but rarely have much left at the end of a month. So there must be more discipline.

I am sure you have identified the exception to this, gentle reader; Valentine’s day. Made up holiday? Perhaps. Saccharine sweetness that in past years has made me vomit myself into a desiccated husk? Sure. But this one time, dangnamit, I want a proper Valentine’s day. With my man.

So that’ll be a bit of money – and well worth it too.