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 ;-)
Showing posts with label lonely. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lonely. Show all posts
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
New Job
I posted recently that I have been promoted. I am very pleased, but it’s sad to be changing to a new role at Christmas. Leaving the old team in the midst of seasonal celebrations is a bit of a shame, but needs must, gentle reader.
Fortunately my promotion is effective immediately, and whilst in my darker moments I wonder if that means I’m leaping from the frying pan into the fire, the good news is I don’t have to wait for the lovely lolly that comes with my new grade (as others have to do) and I see it as quite a vote of confidence. It feels nice to be well liked, in a professional context if nothing else, by people whose intellect and talent impress me.
My organisation is one of 10 regional health authorities (Strumpetville being a region) and the Department of Health (the UK’s health ministry) is reviewing the 100plus statutory functions we are charged with executing, as part of an assurance programme. And I will be helping with that, as well as continuing my lead on the planning of local health organisations for the 2010/11 financial year.
This means in turn that I will no longer have direct responsibility for a specific group of hospitals and community providers (or commissioners of those services).
The plus points to this are (a) I am now only doing project and programme management; (b) I am getting wider exposure to more organisations and building wider professional relationships and (c) I will have greater control of my day to day working life as I shall be planning rather than reacting – and serving only two or three masters rather than the current nine!
On the other hand relative isolation with a revolving door of short-term relationships may not suit me; it takes me time to get to know people and I’m quite introverted. I’m not that good at selling myself; publicising my achievements – sheer sticktoitiveness is a big part of getting me noticed.
Well, as per (and given Rule 5) the solutions rest only within myself. At the risk of contradicting the previous paragraph, I KNOW I’m good at things when I actually bother to get to grips with things. In a blaze of powerful insight I can confess I have enough brains to just coast along in most situations. Well, I’d like to do really well with these projects so that strategy is out!
Though this post disguises it well I think the work will be interesting. And as these projects will be over at the end of the financial year there will be even more new and exciting things to come.
Fortunately my promotion is effective immediately, and whilst in my darker moments I wonder if that means I’m leaping from the frying pan into the fire, the good news is I don’t have to wait for the lovely lolly that comes with my new grade (as others have to do) and I see it as quite a vote of confidence. It feels nice to be well liked, in a professional context if nothing else, by people whose intellect and talent impress me.
My organisation is one of 10 regional health authorities (Strumpetville being a region) and the Department of Health (the UK’s health ministry) is reviewing the 100plus statutory functions we are charged with executing, as part of an assurance programme. And I will be helping with that, as well as continuing my lead on the planning of local health organisations for the 2010/11 financial year.
This means in turn that I will no longer have direct responsibility for a specific group of hospitals and community providers (or commissioners of those services).
The plus points to this are (a) I am now only doing project and programme management; (b) I am getting wider exposure to more organisations and building wider professional relationships and (c) I will have greater control of my day to day working life as I shall be planning rather than reacting – and serving only two or three masters rather than the current nine!
On the other hand relative isolation with a revolving door of short-term relationships may not suit me; it takes me time to get to know people and I’m quite introverted. I’m not that good at selling myself; publicising my achievements – sheer sticktoitiveness is a big part of getting me noticed.
Well, as per (and given Rule 5) the solutions rest only within myself. At the risk of contradicting the previous paragraph, I KNOW I’m good at things when I actually bother to get to grips with things. In a blaze of powerful insight I can confess I have enough brains to just coast along in most situations. Well, I’d like to do really well with these projects so that strategy is out!
Though this post disguises it well I think the work will be interesting. And as these projects will be over at the end of the financial year there will be even more new and exciting things to come.
Monday, 24 August 2009
Night and Day
This weekend I suffered from a combination of a bad cold and conjunctivitis. Fortunately Fella was there to look after me and nurse me with nourishing soup and keep me warm. But I’m not 100 per cent better today so it’s a tired and grumpy Frumpella posting for you now.
I took it easy at work today, given how rotten I feel, and came home early. I wanted to avoid the Gardener; he has some character traits that veer (at least for me) from amusing the tiresome when one is under the weather. Besides, I had some messages to reply to and some food shopping to do. Friends on the phone, by text, and by email to keep me entertained… and a quiet (and early) night in has its appeal sometimes.
Of course there was nothing on the tele and the DVDs didn’t grab me. No more gaydar, not for me gentle reader, oh no. So it was Top Gear on the good old iPlayer and some more nourishing soup for dinner.
It occurred to me that this is how it is for that half the week my Fella isn’t here. I’m surprised at myself really. I’m a terrible introvert so I would have supposed that ‘quiet time’ would re-energise me and refresh me for the next time I see him. But no. I’m sad and down; and it’s cheap plonk; a sore throat; missing his arms around me and mine around him, for me tonight. And every night when he’s not here *sigh* (except the sore throat!).
We already have plans for next weekend and it will come around soon enough. I do need the down-time to concentrate on work and business and friends and laundry and shouting at the bank and all the humdrum things that never seem to impinge on romance as seen on TV. But still, I’d really like it if he were here. Doesn’t have to be any naughty fun or anything… though it would be nice :-)
It’s peculiar an otherwise full and busy life is tinged with a hint of sadness purely because Fella isn’t around - and risks being entirely abandoned when he is. I did wonder as things developed whether I’d be caught in the trap of wanting him when he’s not here, and wishing he were gone when he is. So far so good, though.
Well, I suppose that’s enough of that before I drift off into the analysis that he really doesn't like. So let us pass through the darkness, gentle reader, and head toward the light.
I took it easy at work today, given how rotten I feel, and came home early. I wanted to avoid the Gardener; he has some character traits that veer (at least for me) from amusing the tiresome when one is under the weather. Besides, I had some messages to reply to and some food shopping to do. Friends on the phone, by text, and by email to keep me entertained… and a quiet (and early) night in has its appeal sometimes.
Of course there was nothing on the tele and the DVDs didn’t grab me. No more gaydar, not for me gentle reader, oh no. So it was Top Gear on the good old iPlayer and some more nourishing soup for dinner.
It occurred to me that this is how it is for that half the week my Fella isn’t here. I’m surprised at myself really. I’m a terrible introvert so I would have supposed that ‘quiet time’ would re-energise me and refresh me for the next time I see him. But no. I’m sad and down; and it’s cheap plonk; a sore throat; missing his arms around me and mine around him, for me tonight. And every night when he’s not here *sigh* (except the sore throat!).
We already have plans for next weekend and it will come around soon enough. I do need the down-time to concentrate on work and business and friends and laundry and shouting at the bank and all the humdrum things that never seem to impinge on romance as seen on TV. But still, I’d really like it if he were here. Doesn’t have to be any naughty fun or anything… though it would be nice :-)
It’s peculiar an otherwise full and busy life is tinged with a hint of sadness purely because Fella isn’t around - and risks being entirely abandoned when he is. I did wonder as things developed whether I’d be caught in the trap of wanting him when he’s not here, and wishing he were gone when he is. So far so good, though.
Well, I suppose that’s enough of that before I drift off into the analysis that he really doesn't like. So let us pass through the darkness, gentle reader, and head toward the light.
Thursday, 16 July 2009
Home Alone
Fella makes me very happy, but these are early days still (two months) and so we’re growing into the relationship and trying it on for size. One indication of that is that tonight is the first night really since we started seeing each other that I am spending home alone; not together, no emails, no text messages… naught.
It’s a family do for him you see – mother retiring – so he’s off enjoying himself, and I’m here at home while a thunderstorm rages outside typing this blog for you, gentle reader.
We’re due to go out for dinner tomorrow, as it is a colleague’s/friend of his’s birthday. That means he’ll probably stay the night [:-)] and that we get to spend Saturday together. I’m spending a lot of time thinking about how I can make it special for him; I do think of him almost all the time and really want to put in the effort to make this relationship work.
I suppose my job then is to keep on making things special. Never really had that feeling about a previous relationship; I’ll admit International and I made a stab at it. And with Darren I was just naïve. But this time, it’s brains-a-racking for happy fun times in Strumpetville for the Cheerful Fairy and his beau.
Fella is a classical musician and supports himself with various short term public sector admin work so I have to be creative on the budget front – not that I’m rolling in it, and I need also to save for grown up stuff like my own house and similar. Another factor is that alongside his two jobs Fella is a carer for his mum so his options for going out, and particularly staying out, are limited. He has a reputation as a bit of a party animal, but I know this infamy does annoy him and I particularly know what a sensitive and thoughtful man he is.
So the search for nice-things-to-do continues.
But anyway, for today the lesson is: we should not live in each other’s pockets and it might help more than hinder to let him be tonight and accept from time to time we may spend time apart, and not have to do everything together. In the short terms it is something to get used to, partly because I work long hours too so friends, work, quiet time, time with Fella AND time apart is a bit much. In the medium term it’s probably good to share each other’s lives, just not be them. And in the long term…
What do you think?
It’s a family do for him you see – mother retiring – so he’s off enjoying himself, and I’m here at home while a thunderstorm rages outside typing this blog for you, gentle reader.
We’re due to go out for dinner tomorrow, as it is a colleague’s/friend of his’s birthday. That means he’ll probably stay the night [:-)] and that we get to spend Saturday together. I’m spending a lot of time thinking about how I can make it special for him; I do think of him almost all the time and really want to put in the effort to make this relationship work.
I suppose my job then is to keep on making things special. Never really had that feeling about a previous relationship; I’ll admit International and I made a stab at it. And with Darren I was just naïve. But this time, it’s brains-a-racking for happy fun times in Strumpetville for the Cheerful Fairy and his beau.
Fella is a classical musician and supports himself with various short term public sector admin work so I have to be creative on the budget front – not that I’m rolling in it, and I need also to save for grown up stuff like my own house and similar. Another factor is that alongside his two jobs Fella is a carer for his mum so his options for going out, and particularly staying out, are limited. He has a reputation as a bit of a party animal, but I know this infamy does annoy him and I particularly know what a sensitive and thoughtful man he is.
So the search for nice-things-to-do continues.
But anyway, for today the lesson is: we should not live in each other’s pockets and it might help more than hinder to let him be tonight and accept from time to time we may spend time apart, and not have to do everything together. In the short terms it is something to get used to, partly because I work long hours too so friends, work, quiet time, time with Fella AND time apart is a bit much. In the medium term it’s probably good to share each other’s lives, just not be them. And in the long term…
What do you think?
Monday, 9 February 2009
Dissonance
I am surprised sometimes that I can keep two entirely distinct ways of thinking in my head.
On the one hand there is the biggest strumpet in Strumpetville; the one always on the look out for a causal assignation or two online. Flirting with guys on the train; eyeing up guys in the office. The part of me that derives enormous satisfaction from just sleeping around.
Then there is the part of me that wants to be in a loving, monogamous relationship with someone I love and who loves me. The idea of even looking at someone else would fill me with dread and instead I would get fat and happy picking out curtains, going for walks and snuggling up one the sofa with my double-plus one to watch romantic movies.
Of course there are other sides to me too. The ambitious hard worker; the vain and pompous bore; the shy and retiring introvert. All part of Frumpella’s rich tapestry.
Yet it really strikes me that I’m living a very Jekyll/Hyde lifestyle; searching for Mr Right whilst quite happy to make do with Mr Right Now (And, occasionally, Friends).
I have, it is true, put myself about a bit since New Year. Well… more than a bit. But more of that another time. Yet last night I gave myself the evening off and had an early night and caught up with my television viewing and had a really nice evening.
And, gentle reader, you know what would have made it perfect? Snuggling up in someone’s arms; under the covers there with someone. Nothing frisky, though certainly a sexual element, the undertone to kisses and cuddles… but the most important thing would have been laughing a the same things, commenting on the same storylines, slowly drifting off to sleep together. The nice things that couples do [I’m told].
Guess what else? I wasn’t too sad about it. Of course I felt a bit lonely and wistful; only to be expected I suppose. But I was also rather hopeful in a suspiciously cheerful way that it will all turn out for the best. “Goodness knows”, the cheerful fairy said to himself, “I have a lot to learn about this relationship lark, it is true, but I’ll get there in the end”.
I often wonder how this story will end; half a century or more down the road. However many guys I sleep with (yep, still carrying on with that carry on) I wonder how many assignations, boyfriends, lovers, True Loves and true friends there will be before the two parts of me resolve into one.
Although "They Lived Happily Ever After" does have a certain ring to it…
On the one hand there is the biggest strumpet in Strumpetville; the one always on the look out for a causal assignation or two online. Flirting with guys on the train; eyeing up guys in the office. The part of me that derives enormous satisfaction from just sleeping around.
Then there is the part of me that wants to be in a loving, monogamous relationship with someone I love and who loves me. The idea of even looking at someone else would fill me with dread and instead I would get fat and happy picking out curtains, going for walks and snuggling up one the sofa with my double-plus one to watch romantic movies.
Of course there are other sides to me too. The ambitious hard worker; the vain and pompous bore; the shy and retiring introvert. All part of Frumpella’s rich tapestry.
Yet it really strikes me that I’m living a very Jekyll/Hyde lifestyle; searching for Mr Right whilst quite happy to make do with Mr Right Now (And, occasionally, Friends).
I have, it is true, put myself about a bit since New Year. Well… more than a bit. But more of that another time. Yet last night I gave myself the evening off and had an early night and caught up with my television viewing and had a really nice evening.
And, gentle reader, you know what would have made it perfect? Snuggling up in someone’s arms; under the covers there with someone. Nothing frisky, though certainly a sexual element, the undertone to kisses and cuddles… but the most important thing would have been laughing a the same things, commenting on the same storylines, slowly drifting off to sleep together. The nice things that couples do [I’m told].
Guess what else? I wasn’t too sad about it. Of course I felt a bit lonely and wistful; only to be expected I suppose. But I was also rather hopeful in a suspiciously cheerful way that it will all turn out for the best. “Goodness knows”, the cheerful fairy said to himself, “I have a lot to learn about this relationship lark, it is true, but I’ll get there in the end”.
I often wonder how this story will end; half a century or more down the road. However many guys I sleep with (yep, still carrying on with that carry on) I wonder how many assignations, boyfriends, lovers, True Loves and true friends there will be before the two parts of me resolve into one.
Although "They Lived Happily Ever After" does have a certain ring to it…
Saturday, 7 February 2009
Bore Vs Whore
I’ll start out by being a bore… I’ve been so busy at work as per, but more so, that I deliberately put away my feelings until I had time to deal with them. Last weekend was the plan but, oh my, what a fun weekend it was. And then the sky quite literally fell in this week so there wasn’t much time to think and… although there wasn’t much in the way of man-flesh I still didn’t get to grips with the end of my affair with International.
We remain in contact and through this I have moved from my anger at his somewhat indifferent attitude, to an almost panic-stricken feeling that I’ve Made A Terrible Mistake… it became so oppressive last night I could barely breath. Eventually it all became too much, and I had to address my anxieties via the medium of a full and frank discussion with a neighbour about how playing music too loud late at night, when I’ve got a broken heart, and will barely get four hours’ sleep anyway, might - for example - result in certain people being stabbed through the eye with a pencil.
So, yes; well done to me for moving from denial to anger to despair and even bargaining (thinking briefly that perhaps some accommodation between Ouch and I might be reached) . Perhaps we will get to acceptance. I had planned to approach this through a new stage of getting blind drunk on inferior Hungarian plonk but instead…
Now for the whore bit:
I took my administrator (a pleasant temp with whom I have fast become good friends and who now wants to work with me permanently YAY!) out for a few drinks as a prelude to variations on a theme of Hungarian plonk. When I got home, though, I decided to jump online and see what might be on offer instead of said plonk…
Eventually I ended up making arrangements with six guys for various assignations over the weekend – including a couple not too far from me and two neighbours of mine with whom I have hooked up before. The most interesting of these, incidentally/so far is the very first guy, whom I met tonight. Partly because he was a rather better put together version of me (disconcerting) but mostly because he turned out to have a phobia of semen [spermatophobia]. Thus a perfectly good assignation up to and specific point… after which he left in some distress very, very quickly. Oh dear…
Well, gentle reader. At least I managed to pull of that most gayest of gay tricks: use casual sex to avoid real emotions. Double plus YAY!
Sunday, 9 November 2008
Strange
I have had one of the strangest experiences of my life today, gentle reader.
After getting a bit more work done this afternoon – work that, though challenging, is very exhilarating and fills me with a real sense of achievement once done - I had an afternoon nap; something that I have developed a peculiar fondness for as I have aged.
Anyway, after a couple of hours I woke up – at 5:30.
The problem was I had completely forgotten that it was Sunday. In fact I assumed it was 5:30am on Monday. So, I rose, breakfasted and selected my clothes for work, pleased that I could get in early and tackle the tasks of the day.
At 6:30 a fellow blogger and friend sent me a message asking if I’d had a nice weekend and advising he had just opened a bottle of wine.
Of course, thinking it was 6:30 in the morning I was genuinely shocked and was really worried my friend had a drinking problem. When I replied that er... it was 6:30am, so ermmm... he, somewhat confused, asked me if I was in Britain or abroad or what? And at that point, after a mental gear change, I realised my mistake.
It is fortunate indeed that he contacted me when he did – or I would have been 14 hours early for work. As it was, though, I instead had an extra weekend evening. Tempus redux; a chance to live again.
So despite the fact I had had breakfast I made dinner, was a bit domestic, selected a nice merlot and settled in for an enjoyable evening.
It is a stormy night and the wind and the rain are driving against my window. The parts required to fix my boiler are only now undertaking their perilous journey across the Solar System so the apartment is a little chilly. In many ways it is ideal snuggling weather and I wish International were here to snuggle with me. Of course I am in a position where I can’t be with him every day and for the first time that made me feel a little sad. Tomorrow will be the only time this week we have planned together; next week it is three nights and one day – almost justifying the 50% share in him I currently have.
But for tonight I’m suffering a bit from loneliness. It could be worse; I could be suffering from the flu or gout or Licky End. Yes, I miss him. And in 48 hours I shall be missing him again… though in the meantime I fully intend to [censored]
After getting a bit more work done this afternoon – work that, though challenging, is very exhilarating and fills me with a real sense of achievement once done - I had an afternoon nap; something that I have developed a peculiar fondness for as I have aged.
Anyway, after a couple of hours I woke up – at 5:30.
The problem was I had completely forgotten that it was Sunday. In fact I assumed it was 5:30am on Monday. So, I rose, breakfasted and selected my clothes for work, pleased that I could get in early and tackle the tasks of the day.
At 6:30 a fellow blogger and friend sent me a message asking if I’d had a nice weekend and advising he had just opened a bottle of wine.
Of course, thinking it was 6:30 in the morning I was genuinely shocked and was really worried my friend had a drinking problem. When I replied that er... it was 6:30am, so ermmm... he, somewhat confused, asked me if I was in Britain or abroad or what? And at that point, after a mental gear change, I realised my mistake.
It is fortunate indeed that he contacted me when he did – or I would have been 14 hours early for work. As it was, though, I instead had an extra weekend evening. Tempus redux; a chance to live again.
So despite the fact I had had breakfast I made dinner, was a bit domestic, selected a nice merlot and settled in for an enjoyable evening.
It is a stormy night and the wind and the rain are driving against my window. The parts required to fix my boiler are only now undertaking their perilous journey across the Solar System so the apartment is a little chilly. In many ways it is ideal snuggling weather and I wish International were here to snuggle with me. Of course I am in a position where I can’t be with him every day and for the first time that made me feel a little sad. Tomorrow will be the only time this week we have planned together; next week it is three nights and one day – almost justifying the 50% share in him I currently have.
But for tonight I’m suffering a bit from loneliness. It could be worse; I could be suffering from the flu or gout or Licky End. Yes, I miss him. And in 48 hours I shall be missing him again… though in the meantime I fully intend to [censored]
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