What's Going On?

Hmm... Due to the long commuting times weekdays nowadays really are just same-same. Get up, go to work, work, head home, collapse on sofa and attempt to smile. 

I am working on some side plans to try to escape my daily grind. I'm well respected at my work but... it is too far away for my quality of life to be where I want it to be. 

Website set up for my side plans. And after this pay day when I will have some money to set up the payment system I'll be ready to go... I hope it'll give me more financial security even if it doesn't rescue me from the daily commute. 

Things to do:

1) Get a new crush. It's been a long time since the likes of Tube Boi and Rugby Boy. I'm hardly Jae without someone to definitely not stalk.
2) Tidy up my family tree. Speaking of which, oh Dear Constant Reader I can't believe I forgot this one, some blood relatives were in the news last month. As "Britain's Worst Family". Soooooo proud. The Mum in that article is my aunt and the kids are my cousins. I've never met them, they are in my Dad's side. Researching his family tree finds a very, very lengthy list of petty criminals. Mmm...
3) Damn it, the pot in the photo above is ever so slightly off the pedestal. Going to need to readjust my terrace (I deleted it accidentally and when I rezzed it again it was out of line...)

Prayers For Bobby And My Coming Out Story

Jim just introduced me to the most touching movie. Prayers for Bobby starring Sigourney Weaver is the true story of a boy who kills himself due to his difficulties with his sexuality and about his mother who must face her part in his death and face conflicts with her faith. It had me in tears. It was a wonderful, wonderful movie.

I suppose I forget how lucky I was coming out. Bobby killed himself in 1983, the year I was born, but I know his story isn't unique even in today's America (and I'm sure here in the UK to, thankfully, a much lesser extent). I was born into a family free of religion, if not completely of prejudice, and my coming out was a lot easier than most. I think I was harder on myself than my family.

When I was about 12 I got my hands on my first Bible and consumed it's contents eagerly, finding comfort in faith that I couldn't seem to find in friends thanks mainly to not staying in one place long enough to really make many. Then I turned 14.

It started with George Michael. My paper round meant I usually had a Sun left over each day and I was saving up Page 3 girl pictures. Why? Because I was just not finding girls attractive and was doing my best to force the process. Well one day I opened the Sun to find this picture:

It was during George Michael's trouble with the law in some toilets, and it did far more for me than Page 3 girls ever had. Being a good Christian boy (of my own making) I was mortified. I struggled so much to fight it, thinking and believing that homosexuality was wrong.

And then along came the Sixth Former. At 10.25, 26th February 1998 outside the media studies room in the Harvey Grammar School, he stole my heart in an instant. Within 5 minutes I had accepted my sexuality for the first time. And it felt good.

But my inner turmoil did not cease, it was just now my true nature was in the ascendant and my faith in Jesus was diminishing. It was about that time I became pretty suicidal and wrote a suicide note. I didn't actually attempt suicide, I'd more written it as an exercise in what exactly was making me so unhappy in life. I forgot about it but left it (and my diary) in the bottom of my wardrobe one day. And that is when my Mum found it. This came atop a letter from one of my teachers regarding a piece of coursework and his plans to put me in detention for the holidays received the very same day.

So needless to say that when I came home from school it was to find my Mum and Stepdad sat at the dining room table waiting for me. They told me it was just a phase, that it'd pass, that everything was going to be alright. Well that is what my Mum screamed between tears.

I was terrified of what my life was about to become... but after that evening that sort of talk was never mentioned again. It was like they slept on it and realised they'd overreacted. My sexuality became a non-issue, an anti-climatic end to my official family coming out at 14. My extended family was informed, of course, but that was that. When I started going to gay bars in Canterbury with Stephen, my Mum happily gave me a lift there and back without questioning me. When I brought Stephen home for the first time he was quickly adopted and forced into doing the washing up (a sure sign of acceptance in my family).  When my parents arrived home one day and I walked down the stairs with unruly hair and a black policeman, hardly an eyebrow was raised.

It wasn't a perfect coming out, but it was probably the best one for me... I have to say I thank my lucky stars for my Mum and her acceptance of who I am. It's just such a shame for all the boys and girls out there who grow up like Bobby did, living with enforced shame and hatred. One day I hope no one ever needs to come out, that who you love is no more of an issue than your favourite colour. One day...

Prayers for Bobby: A Mother's Coming to Terms with the Suicide of Her Gay Son (US Amazon)

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Family Drama

Joy. Last night I foolishly put my head above the parapet to get my feelings across to two errant members of my family. As I've said before my Mum and step dad are smack bang in the middle of a divorce. There is some conflict over housing occuring at the moment and Mum is pretty stressed out about it.

A few weeks ago two of my Uncle's (on my Mum's side of the family) arranged publicly to go out with my step Dad for drinks. I let that pass, but found out from Mum how upsetting it had been to see it.

Yesterday Jim pointed out they were doing it again. This really angered me and I felt it was so totally thoughtless. So I dropped them both messages through Facebook expressing my displeasure pretty forcefully and telling them to be more discrete. I didn't tell them to stop seeing my step Dad nor demand they issue heartfelt apologies (and said "I'm not telling you to stop seeing him"). I just wanted them to spare a thought for Mum.

One Uncle came back and expressed his sorrow for any upset caused and admitted it had been pretty thoughtless and they wouldn't arrange things so publicly any more. But my other Uncle was totally taken aback by what I had said, decided I was telling him not to see my step Dad and he was very unhappy with my suggestion he wasn't fully supporting his sister. His reply on Facebook actually ended up annoying me even more the problem had. Then today, rather than phone me directly, he phoned Jim to discuss the issues.

1) I found that insulting. I love Jim dearly, and he is very much accepted as part of my family. But he wasn't the one who sent the message and I felt totally disrespected when Jim told me my Uncle had phoned him and not me.
2) Rather than accept that what I had suggested was an issue, he made claims that it was being blown out of proportion (which I actually predicted in my original message to him, go me!), and was worried others in the family might find out and be upset.
3) The way Jim told me the conversation went I felt he was being pretty unreasonable.

I felt that I had no choice in sending a message to them to protect my Mum's feelings. But instead of any sort of understanding of how I feel about it, I get excuses and reflected blame. Well I've said my piece and I'm keeping well out of it now, but God I'm fuming inside today. Absolutely livid. It's not helped by the need not to argue back in order to preserve family goodwill. Grr...

This blogger works for nothing but the joy of writing but always appreciates things bought from his wishlist

Cruising The River Thames

Friday night, and I was pleased to be home from another week of work. Jim's Mum had arrived from Glasgow during the day so after a brief wash and change of clothes I headed down to meet her and Jim at the local. We had a few drinks with the (off duty) Antonio, and discussed the future of Brazil in world affairs (well Antonio and I did anyway!). Charlie, who was having his last shift behind the bar before he moves to Paris, helpfully mocked Jim and his Mum's Scottish accents. Awkward, but funny.

After taking Jim's Mum to her hotel, we settled back in at the local to say goodbye to Charlie and chat with a few regulars. I told Jim about my crush on a certain someone (who shall go unnamed) which surprisingly surprised him. And then it was time to go with an awkward hug for Charlie (I'm not a huggy sort of a person). Jim managed to avoid shedding a tear, something we should all be amazed by.

Saturday, I was up early and discovered via a Facebook chat that Mum had told my step dad last night she wants a divorce. I'm going to call my siblings later on today to try and make sure they are ok but a Facebook chat with Bethany suggests she is... After that little piece of drama we were up and away to Maggie's in Lewisham for a diet-busting cooked breakfast. Yum yum. Jim's Mum enjoyed it just as much as Jim and I predicted the first time we ever went there. Maggie's Irish charm made us all smile. Following another scarily healthy shop at Tesco's we wandered down to Greenwich Pier to catch a City Cruise ferry up the river. It's no Thames Clipper (as we went on the other week) but that is to be expected as they serve different needs... City Cruises are for sightseeing and are accompanied by a commentary given by a crew member (who come in varying degrees of interest and knowledge, but as they say they don't get paid to do the commentary just keep as afloat).

The Thames was very busy as it was the Thames Festival, and there was steam boats aplenty and stuff going on all along the banks. We got off at Westminster and had a wander by the Palace and the Abbey. I foolishly went to get a bottle of water in the Tesco's by the tube station and discovered it was in fact a one aisle assault course. Never again.

We then caught a boat to Tower pier and another home to Greenwich (the final trip had the best commentary and we even discovered where Cher used to live... he was certainly the most knowledgeable of the three commentaries). We had an evening in with Jim's paleo curry. Yum. Pictures of the day can be found on my Flickr.

This blogger works for nothing but the joy of writing but always appreciates things bought from his wishlist

Pedigree Chum

Darn it. I've caught the genealogy bug again. I'm in Lympne for the weekend and there wasn't much else to do...

But did work out I'm about 80% Kentish. Woohoo!! I like knowing where I came from, and that despite everything I come from the same place as a large part of my modern ancestors. Happy times.

This blogger works for nothing but the joy of writing but always appreciates things bought from his wishlist

Jae: Volume 3, Issue 10

Well that was a long weekend away! Friday Jim and I traveled down to Lympne to see my family. We did our usual stop at Ashford Tesco's, before driving down through Sellindge where Jim took great pleasure in mocking my oft repeated "I used to live there" as we drove part Richardson Court and Somer Barn Court.

We got to Lympne and settled in for a relaxing evening with the family, watching telly and eating take away. Sadly whilst Coronation Streets intro was playing (my Mum is a closet soap addict) Ollie phoned and I feel I shall now never live that moment down. I DO NOT WATCH SOAPS! ;)

Saturday: we headed on mass to Canterbury, with Tony driving at fiendishly high speed up Stone Street. The twins needed new school uniforms and Mum was insistent we paid a visit to the, recently moved, Whatever Comics so she could buy me some more comics to feed my addiction. Check out the first issue of Air. It's very good!

Sunday: Jim and I had an adventure to Herne Bay, for reasons I won't go into. Jim was a little remiss in not noticing Herne Bay is the opposite side of Kent from... Lympne. Fun! :D

Monday: Our last day down the parents. Auntie Jill and the girls turned up. Due to an acrimonious divorce I haven't seen Jill since the day Melly took a turn for a worse and the entire family turned up at the Royal Marsden Hospital. Nice to see her, even if she is a frightfully loud and positively ENGLISH person. Jim and I also took some time out to visit Folkestone and found the town centre continues to decay now that the new shopping centre is open. Honestly... they might as well just turn it into houses and make it a normal road. It'll look a lot nicer.

We headed home to make a grim discovery... a giant spider had taken up home in our front room. And, worse, after we briefly spotted it moving in the net curtain it disappeared. Jim was not at all happy at this development and slept uneasily that night.

Today.... not more than half an hour ago the giant spider returned, menacingly moving within a M&S bag on the floor, its long legs purposefully probing the plastic. Jim was up on the sofa and experiencing the first stages of severe shock even before I, as resident spider catcher, had made my move. Now I'm sure you, Dear Constant Reader, know my "NO KILLING" policy when it comes to spiders. But for this bruiser even I was not prepared to attempt a capture. It was the largest spider I've ever seen. I sadly had to put it out of Jim's misery with the use of a foot. I offer my apologies to the spiders next of kin.

A Weekend In Kent

Saturday Jim and I set off to Kent to visit the parental units. But first we had to get the car washed, and made a return to the Polish hand wash place down in Lewisham. My favourite from last time was topless, proving I was not wrong to assume he had a fabulous body. I'm liking this trend away from automatic car washes to more old fashioned versions... Automatic = bad. Hand wash = porn. Goodness.

Anyhew... we made it to Lympne and settled into the parent's house, Jim did his usual computer fixing whilst I enjoyed watching the boring programmes I dare not watch at home. Jim and Tony went out to get supplies for dinner and bumped into Paul O'Grady at the local farm shop. As you do (he's a local).

We had a lovely BBQ with some gorgeous steaks bought in Greenwich. I mean... really gorgeous. They were scrumilicious.

Saturday night we watched Doctor Who and Big Brother as a family with Beth and her friend Amy chatting NON STOP throughout driving me crazy... AH!!!

Sunday Jim made a humourous error of wondering if there was a fishmongers nearby, which caused my entire family to descend into mocking him... well they do live by the sea, in a fishing town!!! :D George, Jim and I headed into town and went to the harbour to get some fish for dinner and bought some computer games in town. Stopped off at the service station near my parents village to pick up a Starbucks. If I'd known there would be a Starbucks, a HMV and a WHSmith in my village I'd never have moved to London!! :D

Dinner was gorgeous, fish cakes.... Kenyo, those recipes will be on their way soon!!

Good weekend really..

What Is She After????

"hello jay jay u ok it's ur likkle sis beth i miss u and hope u come home soon i luv u loads and hope u had a fad b'day i hope all ur wishes came true mine certainly did and that was seeing u i was so glad to see ur happy face when u blew out ur candles nd i hope u can come down soon ur blue room is ready and waiting for u
(by the way lovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvve ur jacket soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo retro

any ways g2g ove u lot's and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots

love ur
likkle sis
beth
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo"

I had to cut down the o's and xo's... they went on for quite some time...

Petit Bretagne - Part Une

Bonjour Dear Constant Reader! I have returned to you from a marvellous holiday in Brittany. I am most sad to be back here in Britain, should of just stayed and got internet access in France. Much better than here! So here is the obligatory holiday diary. Pictures will follow shortly...

29th July 2007

Even though we weren't due to leave the country until the 30th we did our fair share of travelling! Jim and I headed to Hemel Hempstead and picked up Ian (via a McDonalds breakfast... mmm). Then we headed down to Kent and the town of my birth, Snodland, to pick up my Nan. We transported her to Maidstone to the Maison De La Debbie Debs and were soon joined by Leigh and her husband. Jim, Ian and I moved on from there to Folkestone and bought travel guides and phrase books for the trip.

We wandered back to the car park full of the joys of holidaying when the worst thing possible happened... the car wouldn't start. The day before we were due to drive through France and the car breaks down! AH!

Not twenty minutes later a nice fellow from the RAC arrived and we found out the battery installed in the car was not the battery Jim had installed about a year ago. We think it might have been accidentally swapped at it's last MOT. AH! So we managed to get the car started and on a Sunday found a garage open (Cheriton Road Kwik Fit, merci beaucoup!). Thankfully less than an hour after breaking down we were on our way again with a very happy car (and my not so happy credit card).

We headed to Lympne and my family's home. Whilst my brother played his new drum kit with our cousin Louis and Ian, my sister made Jim and I go to Sellindge (another former home town) to see her latest horse, Chalky. Joy...

Upon our return to Lympne we found, randomly, my auntie Martine, uncle Nick and cousins Rhys and Fran had turned up. Thus an evening of family chat and curry eating ensured in front of my family's giant television... talk about a home cinema... moi? Jealous? As if!

30th July 2007

Early the next morning we made the short trip from Lympne to the Port of Dover and checked in for the ferry. As we went through the British Frontier Control we were pulled over and after the guy there discovered that not only were Jim and I partners but Jim was also Ian's father we were taken away to Shed Number 3 for further investigation.

We were met there by a far too cheerful female Immigration officer who cheerfully asked us if were carrying anything illegal before rummaging through our bags. She then disappeared to be replaced by a Kent Police Officer who questioned Jim over whether we were attempting to kidnap Ian. After also questioning Ian (which scared him quite unnecessarily) and talking to Ian's mum we were begrudgingly let go with a half hearted apology for troubling us. I hope when Ian's mum takes him to France in a few weeks Jim gets a similar call or I shall be writing a strongly worded letter about sexism and homophobia at the Port of Dover.

Anyway Jim and Ian didn't seem that bothered about it and Jim kind of reminded me not to let it spoil our holiday so I settled in for a peaceful ferry journey on the Norfolk Line to Dunkerque. Peaceful except for the hole in Jim's wallet for paying 25 quid for breakfast for three people! RIP OFF!

We drove down from Dunkerque to the small village of Moncontour in Brittany. The trip was amazingly quick and the French roads are a bloody amazing thing to behold. Fast, clear and road work free. The Pont de Normandie (the Normandy Bridge) was awe inspiring.

The gite (French holiday home) was huge! It had a large garden with a wonderful stone balcony. The front room was huge and the kitchen bigger than our front room in Greenwich. We loved it.

We went out to explore but discovered France is closed on a Monday. The village was deathly quiet with no one anywhere to be seen and the area around the Hotel De Ville (town hall) closing for the evening. We managed to get a meal in Le Cauldron Magique, a medieval themed restaurant. No not like a crass Americanised place, it just served medieval style food with some bunting as decoration. I had an awesome melon salad as a starter, with organic roasted chicken and vegetables for my main and a tart de chocolat for dessert. All delicious.

We headed back to the gite for a much needed sleep.

31st July 2007

Jim and Ian headed down to the local patisserie early in the morning and we had a huge breakfast out on the balcony. There was melon (I had gotten a taste for it!), croissants, pain au chocolat, ham, cheese and some classy Lion Bar cereal (very good!). YUM!

We headed out to St Malo a town to the north east of Moncontour and on the coast. What a beautiful place the old town was. Completely walled in with wonderful small meandering streets everywhere and beautiful beach. We wandered the ramparts, had some drinks in the Cafe L'Adambir, had a horrible lunch (mine was an egg and ham galette [the local form of savoury crepe]) in some touristy restaurant and ate chocorange ice creams as we wandered the streets.

Jim and I both bought paintings off of some local artists. I love them both.

We headed back to the gite where I attempted to read outside but was promptly soaked by Ian's water gun. Ian was promptly soaked by Jim and a washing up bowl. Mwhahahaha...

Had a meal in a local restaurant... escargot (snails) to start, faux filet (steak) for main and a chocolate mousse for dessert. The faux filet was rare so I loved it but Jim and Ian didn't and they quickly looked up the French for "well done" when we got back (bien cuit for those interested). The mousse was judged nicest dessert ever tasted.

1st August 2007

This is getting very long. I'll do the rest tomorrow!

One More Sleep

I know that in my head my holiday doesn't begin to my normal work starting time on Monday (that's when I realise I'm on holiday anyway!) but today wasn't as bad as I thought.

I headed into town this morning and bought some clothes at High and Mighty (Edgware Road) and got myself some Euros. Sadly the trips to and from were on bloody packed DLR and tube trains. :(

Got home, got some personal insurance before Jim and I headed out to the Local. Mum, Debbie Debs and Leigh soon turned up to join us. They were leaving their car with us while they went off to see Scissor Sisters at the Dome.

Had a lovely day in the beer garden there drinking and chatting and telling silly stories. Saw them off on the DLR and after finishing our wine at the local settled down with Jim at home (via a crazy destructive dash round the bedroom trying to find my passport... )

Holiday has now been brought forward to tomorrow so that's one extra day with out me I'm afraid!

Flying

Jim left the country today for two weeks in Boston, USA. :( I will miss him so much, even though he probably won't believe that. Love you Jim. xxx

Today is Mothering Sunday so I have spent the day with my mother and family down in Lympne. OK... traveling by train is getting silly. The service is fine, but the passengers are so dumb it hurts. I arrived at Greenwich station to find a group of nine fully grown adults gathered around a ticket machine unable to work out how to work it. It turns out these were actually 3 separate parties so I can't blame genetics. Perhaps Southeastern need to start night courses on their machines for the deeply dumb? After sorting them out I stood in my normal spot on the station whereupon someone asked me what platform was for London Bridge. I looked above me and checked the Departures board was working. It was. I pointed at it (not more than a foot above my head, if they were looking up anyway they must have been able to see it) and said pointedly "THIS ONE".

It was, however, lovely to see my family and I look forward to going back down in a weeks time for a few days with them. Glad to see Angel cat still remembers me. Less pleased to see Noodles the dog still remembers me. More pleased to note Tinkerbell cat treats me as a mere stroking machine and doesn't give a damn who I am. \

Having had time to ponder the Scooch victory I see it as being quite startingly out of line with the last few songs. I wonder if the public weren't just sick of the celebrities turning every television show into another edition of the soap opera of their lives. Brian Harvey, Big Brovaz, Justin Hawkins and, to a lesser extent, Liz from Atomic Kitten are all tired celebrities being wheeled out to give them one more chance. Maybe that is what lead to a Cyndi and Scooch sing off. I, for one, am totally bored of seeing failed celebrities constantly trying to reinvent themselves. There is a reason they are failed celebrities.

Now Scooch could be considered as doing exactly what I just moaned about except ask a group of people and almost all of them will never have heard of them before. So I wouldn't call them celebrities. ;)

Scooch, I am 100% behind you but I do have one reservation... PLEASE DON'T DO A JEMINI! PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE. Now let's see the video!

How can to you not love that?

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I'm So Sick Of This!

Mary Cheney, the Vice President of the United States' daughter, is pregnant.

The conservatives over there are a bunch of arsewipes (much like our own... :) ).

"Just because you can conceive a child outside a one-woman, one-man marriage doesn't mean it's a good idea," she said. "Love can't replace a mother and a father."

What is it about this whole need to have a mother and a father, otherwise the world will go to pot? I grew up without a father. I have never been in trouble, I have an IQ of 129 and I'm a tolerant individual known for his inability to hurt others without a very, very good reason. I'm not saying that's a result of not having a father (I think whether you have a mother, a father or neither doesn't matter a damn!), I'm saying that not having a father did not stop me from growing up a good, intelligent boy.

What I want to know is what consequences people think not having a father will lead to? I think genes are more important. If two nice people conceive a child that child is likely to be nice even if both parents are absent! Check out Chapter 5 of Freakanomics

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