Sunday, October 31, 2010
This clip gives you a sense of Hallowe'en chez nous. It's atmosphere. Right?
But, things have been happening. The downlighting in the kitchen didn't work for around 3 months. Xfe phoned the electrician fiancee of a friend in France to get suggestions. He was on the phone, and they, suddenly talking about them (in French), they all switched on.
Some time before, when we properly tested the central heating, I lectured Xfe about not interfering with the radiators for balance. The next time I tested the system some months after each individual radiator was switched off. I challenged Xfe, especially given the discussion we had had before.
He assured me he had not touched them.
Each radiator was off, at both ends.
Two nights ago the central heating cut out. I was pissed off. We had started watching A Serious Man, but I was so distracted by trying to get the system on-line I couldn't settle down to watch it.
The hot water worked, I flicked the boiler on and off, trying to reset it... the machine still self-diagnosed a thermostat regulating the boiler, cutting it out. That would be one I never knew we had, even after 4 months of properly operating it, until I discovered it and that it had after almost 6 months here, been switched on.
I suggested perhaps Xfe had brushed it when dusting. He didn't think he had.
On Thursday I opened up the front room to find one of the paintings rotated very squint. I sorted it.
Tonight for the first time, to hide from trick treaters we closed the partition doors dividing the front room. I said to Xfe, with some surprise having tried them before, that they actually closed and fastened. When I had tried before on moving in, they didn't fit.
So tonight I locked the doors firmly with the bolt, taking satisfaction knowing they closed and locked...
Later I came into the back area and pushed to see how firmly the bolted door held.
The doors opened. They were not - no longer - bolted. Again, I asked Xfe whether he had opened them. He said he had not, explained that at one point heard the bolt slide open, while he was reclining on the sofa watching TV.... and I in the kitchen, cooking.
To my knowledge the project was never completed. However, I did get a draft of the interview manuscript to check.
Before it gets lost, perhaps I should air it.
It's raw for sure. Honest and open. Impulsive even - bear in mind the text comes from responses to an interview.
I remember that Xfe certainly wasn't happy with some of the things I had said. But if I said it, I must have felt or at least perceived it. Having flicked through it I think he didn't like how it made him sound...
Well, just in case you thought you knew me, think again....
I fell into the work I do by accident. It’s funny: you have to go back to my parents to understand it. Both my parents left school when they were about 16. My father was an only child and I think he was just expected to go out and work. He went to trades college and became a joiner, then he joined the fire brigade as a fireman and subsequently became a fire officer and went into fire prevention and stuff. My mother was the middle child of five. They all had the opportunity to go to university except her; she doesn’t rate herself academically. Funnily enough, her talent was singing and dancing. She was offered the opportunity to go professional but her father wouldn’t allow her to, so she went out to work fairly young. I think she always had felt undervalued because of that. So she was very conscious of wanting to give my brother and me the best chances we could have. We were given the chance to try for private school, and we both got in. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to do. My mother and I were talking about the possibility of my being a lawyer and she decided it was a good idea. From then on it was fixed. She set it in my mind, and I didn’t think of doing anything else. Then, when I started thinking about it properly, I decided it was as good as anything else. Doing a law degree opens up a lot of opportunities. You don’t have to become a lawyer; there are many other avenues it opens up. So I applied to Scottish universities, got the results I needed and ended up doing my law degree.
The system’s slightly different in Scotland. Typically, if you want to become a lawyer, you do a law degree, whereas in England you do your degree and then think about going to law school to do a conversion course. So that was the climate I was in. They were all doing law degrees and were pretty focused on becoming lawyers. Usually what happens is that after your law degree you have to do a one-year post graduate diploma, then a two-year traineeship, then you qualify as a lawyer. The further I got the more I thought, “I have to get to the end of this,” even though I still thought I could possibly do something else. But then of course you become qualified as a lawyer and you get offered a job and you think, “I’ll just get a couple of years’ experience because then I’ll be more marketable”—and two years later you’ve bought a house and you think,” “Well, I’d better carry on earning so I can continue paying the mortgage,” and then, before you know it, you’re so far gone that it’s is too late to change and do something else. You just progress down a route and the further down it you go, the harder it is to about-turn and head back.
I decided not to change career but to leave where I was in Aberdeen and move down to London I thought, “This is my last chance. If I don’t do it, it’s just going to be too late.” I’d qualified and done well in a pretty good Scottish firm, where I’d been promoted, then made a partner, then about three years after becoming a partner, I thought, “This is going to be it for the rest of my life unless I do something now.” I really didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in Aberdeen so I decided to leave and find a new job in London.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Xfe is not really, well not at all, a fan of torture gore movies. I don't mind them.
It was the second part of our horror double bill, following on from the Ealing classic, the Dead of Night. I love portmanteau films, and this is a classic.
Still, I'm on the look out for a standout spooky, eerie, atmospheric Halloween weekend movie. Any suggestions?
Saturday, October 23, 2010
My parents left yesterday after 2 weeks here. I was on holiday, off work, for the first 10 days. Xfe was in Tel Aviv for their first week, and we had another set of friends come stay for 3 days during week 2 (with their 2 children, so it was a full house).
Two weeks was without a doubt over-long. My Dad suggested it. I think he felt it would be a respite (of sorts) caring for my mother.
Without a doubt the biggest problem I had was their gross overreaction to my staying out overnight last Sunday (Missing, Presumed Murdered). I was angry, very angry, and could not hide it. It tainted the rest of my time with them. Less so with my Mother as the week went on, which I find is always the case.
Still, I found I was far less tolerant with them after that incident. To the extent that I refused to allow my parents to pay for anything. My Mum wanted to pay for dinner on Friday. When she asked me to take the money at home. When she left it on a table I simply handed it back to her and told her they were our guests. Of course, my Dad would never offer to pay for anything! Though that is because he never really handled their money, and my Mum usually deals with finances.
My parents are so set in their ways. They eat very little, at times different from us. Lunch (soup or a sandwich) about 12.30p. Tea (they don't have dinner) usually closer to 5pm than 6pm. They like sausages, chicken supremes, cook in the oven from frozen pizza, pies, oven chips. Nothing fancy. They don't usually eat pasta, and had never had it with pesto before.
My Mum discovered, and greatly enjoyed, hummus.
If we are going out for lunch they prefer to eat in a supermarket cafe. Morrisons is their favourite, but Sainsburys is another top choice. They were delighted to find the former in Wood Green, and I had lunch with them there at least twice.
Still, when all is said and done that is the nature of a parent/child relationship.
They will be welcome anytime, but next time I will make sure it is for a much shorter visit.
Speakers will include Stuart Milk, the nephew of murdered gay rights campaigner Harvey Milk, Stephen Brookes MBE, from the Disability Hate Crime network, and deputy Mayor of London Richard Barnes.
Monday, October 18, 2010
(I decided to wait until tubes were running before going home given it was almost that time).
At around 9.30am I was at Kings Cross, and as I had a friend staying in Travelodge there, I decided to pop in to say hello. When I checked at reception there was no such reservation. So I pulled out my phone to call her...
Only to see a stream of missed calls - my mother 4 times, my brother, Xfe.
I phoned home (my parents are visiting for 2 weeks). All hell had broken loose...
My mother and father seeing I hadn't been home presumed I was now a missing person, probably dead. So, they had phoned the police to report me as a missing person. They had phoned my brother who was about to drop everything and head down to London. My brother had phoned my office to see whether I was due to be working (and if so whether I was there). In fact, I have today, tomorrow off.
My brother had also phoned Xfe, in Paris to tell him I was missing. He was fairly worried, sick with worry.
Xfe knows that on the odd occasion I go on a bender, and have stayed out until early morning, but it was the fact that my brother had called him that made him think something must be seriously wrong.
My mother had thought it was so unlike me. It probably is so unlike me, but how would she know? I left home about 20 years ago.
They just think London is a bad city.
Yes, I should have been more considerate, but on the other hand, isn't that the point of being grown-up, independent? This is after all my house, and how I live my life!
Tonight I am out again. If Xfe wasn't coming back I just might do the same thing to make that point clear.
My secretary, of course, thought this was hilarious (one of the mopping-up calls I had to make after).
Friday, October 15, 2010
Today we went to the Tate, to see if my mother's wheelchair could navigate Ai Weiwei's porcelain "sunflower seeds".
However, we discovered that visitors to Tate Modern have been banned from walking on the 100 million plus porcelain seeds.
The seeds were created by Chinese artist Ai Weiwei to fill the central London gallery's turbine hall.
When it opened on 11 October he urged guests to stomp on the seeds and roll in them.
But concern has now been raised over "dust" being created by people trudging through them, leaving art fans to look at the work from behind a barrier.
But I think that's not the real reason. Nope. It's not the dark spectre of health and safety looming. It's because people couldn't help stuffing their pockets full of free souvenirs, courtesy Ai Weiwei.
Even when it's cordoned off, some people still can't help themselves...
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Suddenly my blog has gone xtreme-busy again, getting many more hits than usual.
It must have been publicised somewhere. Though I am getting many Google referrals, it seems.
Although I can't find out what they are looking up I can find where they are being referred to.
It may have something to do with the Commonwealth Games currently being played out in Delhi, and the divers.
I seem to be getting more than normal requests directing Google search enquiries to whether Canadian diver Alexandre Despatie is well hung (though the photos speak for themselves).
More of divers later, given that's what seems to be causing the spike.
There's the usual other asking for pics of gay rugby player Gareth Thomas naked.
There was a feature about him in this Sunday's Observer. I've not read it yet.
But this time it has definitely got something to do with divers.
Talking of gay sportsmen, there's a happy history of successful gay divers.
Louganis. Remember when he hit his head and still went on to win Olympic gold? I do.
Then there's another golden gay Olympian diver. Australia's Matthew Mitcham.
Currently, Britain has an up-and coming-young male diver. 16-year old Tom Daley.
Small and perfectly formed so says The Guardian, Tom had a bad patch around a couple of years ago. Despite sporting success he was being bullied at school, and had to be removed.
When being interviewed, Tom Daley does come over as an extremely sensitive young man, though I didn't watch the documentary last night about him and his poorly father.
It's likely that like those gay Olympic divers Mitcham and Louganis, Tom Daley will find golden glory and will win success for TeamGB in London 2012.
And though he is only 16 (Tom and his diving partner Max are both over 16), I'm sure he will become in the near future a pin-up boy for homosexuals who like their icons sporty, straight (like Beckham) or (like Gareth Thomas and Mitcham) otherwise. Maybe we'll even get Tom Daley naked - come 2012.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Spartacus: Blood and Sand.
High drama it is not. Visually engaging, it surely is!
We've had some productive days, my parents and I.
On Sunday, we had lunch in McDonalds. Yesterday it was at Morrison's supermarket. It's really what suits them. My Dad barely eats. My Mum eats only a little more. They don't have fancy tastes, so fine dining doesn't really do anything for them.
Still, we started some DIY today, which is good...
Sunday, October 10, 2010
A random, disembodied leg.
Well, not quite. It's my Mum's third (and spare one). The original left one having been amputated some 18 months ago.
Despite that, today we walked (well I pushed) my Mum all around Finsbury Park, to Emirates, and back, with Dad (who's knees don't work) in tow!
It was a good day. In London the sun shone.
Saturday, October 09, 2010
...When Katsuro defecates, Lindsay is forced to swallow his excrement and the doctor watches with great delight....
The Human Centipede (First Segment) was particularly revolting.
I thought this mouth to anus film fun might be one for the rimmer fetishists. But it's not. It is likely more interesting for those who prefer an altogether different mouth to anus pleasure.
It was rather hard to stomach that bit - and I suspect that if you ever considered that kind of dabbling it would put you off for good...
...When Katsuro defecates, Lindsay is forced to swallow his excrement and the doctor watches with great delight....
Today some Very Important People who, through their own sacrifices, let me get where I am today, are visiting to stay for a couple of weeks.
How to measure success? For most it's probably still by things material. Just because that is what is the easiest to relate to.
Nice house, nice car, nice wife, good school for the children...
Well, I have no car. I do have a lovely husband; and in that relationship we are very successful. Those Who Matter see exactly how much love Xfe gives and the happiness he brings to me.
We have no children. We do have a house.
One of Greek Pete's drivers was that as a child he shared a bedroom with his older sister and younger brother in his parents two bedroomed house. He explains what is behind his desire to be successful. To earn plenty money, to be the best in what he chooses to do.
All so he could have a nice house. That simple. Above having a happy and satisfying relationship with a beloved partner.
To have a nice house.
My Mum & Dad married and I was born a couple of years later. They rented one room in someone else's flat.
Their first family home together was the 13th floor of a multi-storey building, where I shared a room with my brother until I was 13 or so. From there we moved to our first house. It was a council house, but thanks to Mrs Thatcher's right to buy legislation they bought it, and for the first time in their lives they became home owners.
They lived there for 20 or so years, until the house my dad built in the country for their retirement - big enough for a growing family with its 4 en suite bedrooms (including one massive master) and with 5 public rooms - was ready to be lived in.
Of course I didn't quite go according to plan in that respect, unlikely to deliver progeny to populate it on holidays. However, my brother has 3, and they have so many grand-nephews/nieces who regularly visit.
Sadly, because of my mother's disabilities, they are having to reconsider life in their dream home. It's too big and too difficult for my Mum to manage on 3 levels.
Growing up there were no holidays other than one week in a caravan in Aviemore, the other some years later (especially for my brother and I) to Butlins, Skegness.
My mother worked so that she could save her salary to pay our school fees...
So now (well, as always when they visit, but more on their first visit to my first house), it's PAYBACK TIME.
(Though, how can I ever payback a mother's love?)
Friday, October 08, 2010
Last Friday night, to relieve the boredom, I treated myself to London rent boy Greek Pete.
For this Friday I've scheduled some more fun. Tonight I'm going to enjoy (is enjoy the appropriate word?) some rimming.
Some very deep rimming, as it happens. Imagine just how deep you could take it/go/take it - and then some.
To make it even more lively (is lively the appropriate word?) there'll be two hungry sub mouths involved.
Yes, tonight, while Xfe's away I'm going to be watching The Human Centipede (First Sequence).
...the story of a deranged, world renowned surgeon who specialises in separating conjoined twins. But for a hobby the skilled surgeon wants to construct what he sees as the future of man’s existence, human centipedes. Human centipedes are, obviously, chains of people with their kneecaps removed so they have to crawl on all fours, surgically grafted mouth to anus...The only problem is...should I have dinner before or after?
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
My new barber shop is local. That means I can go whenever I want. Before leaving for work, on my way home, Saturday or Sunday. In fact, I prefer to go early Saturday morning. But that's not why I go.
My new barber offers a shave service. But I don't go for that reason.
My new barber offers eyebrow trimming, ear fuzz burning (I've even seen them wax hairy inside ears) and nose hair trims. I don't need that (though sometimes they do trim my brows).But I don't go for that reason.
I go because they the barbers tend to be younger Turkish gentlemen. Slim, olive skinned, dark haired, and fairly hairy. Their pants are on view under their jeans, and when they stretch their shirts rise to reveal a line of dark hair reaching up to their naval.
Often you see down the front of their shirts, their hairy dark nipples, their dark, soft armpits revealed under arm...
My goodness, I come home horny.
No wonder my hair is so currently so short and I'm getting it maintained every 3 or so weeks...!
Monday, October 04, 2010
Of course, I would never have bought it were it not for the fact that you can here me provide some of the backing vocals on track 9 (Introducing the Business).
But I'm very glad I did (buy it, that is).
Retro, nouveau all at once. I love it. And I can't wait to let Xfe hear it. He will love it too.
Maybe I should wrap it up and give it to him as a belated birthday present...
Track 9 - Introducing the Business. Can you hear me?
Sunday, October 03, 2010
I'm fairly stressed at work at the moment. When I am I have no time to think about any other stuff. At all. It all closes off and shuts down.
Still, that is no excuse.
I forgot it was coming up, and didn't get the chance to pack him off with a card for him to find when he was away.
It didn't even click when the pips went off at 8am this morning followed by the continuity announcer inform that today is, "Sunday the 3rd October".
I forgot when he phoned me a few moments thereafter and finished the call asking me if I was going to wish him a happy birthday!
Oh la la!
October just creeps up on you. You think it's summer, hope it's still summer, given the crap summers we "enjoy" here in the UK. August is summer. September you hope might still be summer.
Suddenly there is no hope. Up pops October. And Xfe's birthday. And I miss it...
Definitely oh la la!
Friday, October 01, 2010
So last night I decided that Greek Pete would entertain me for the evening.
It's difficult to know what to say. I feel conflicted. Some of it wasn't real. Christmas was filmed in March.
Though the lifestyle may appear vacuous and void brand Greek Pete is genuine and maybe naive?
If the film doesn't show him as professional, and engaging, well just remember that things aren't always what they seem. Christmas was filmed in March.
Pete is a London based escort, trying to earn as much money in the here and now for the future. He's trying to better himself, having lived with 2 siblings and his parents in a two-bedroom home, sharing a bedroom with his older sister and younger brother.
He wants to provide himself with a bigger house, to escape his past.
That is probably the irony of the escort/client relationship. Each desiring something of the other. Pete might want the lifestyle of some of his clients; his clients just want him.
Sometimes he sounds sad, vague. Is he aware of his limitations? Possibly. Probably.
So, that was Greek Pete. It was either an evening with him or with the Killer Inside Me.
Ah - you thought I was talking about the actual guy? OK. Sorry I was, of course, talking about watching the DVD!