tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74052578255661004322024-03-19T13:01:59.884+00:00Mind Of MineMind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-51346456507146110412018-04-29T16:57:00.000+01:002018-04-29T20:40:44.390+01:0030 Flirty and Thriving...It has been a couple of years since I have given this blog any real attention. So much has happened I wouldn't even know where to start, there is always that period in the moment when it feels like nothing else will ever matter more than it, but then it passes.<br />
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I gave up writing because I was busy in other areas of my life, I hid the posts which painted me not in the best light and gave away the game that I wasn't a successful up and comer, career focused and productive. Work had literally become my life.<br />
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I won't bore anyone with a recap of what the last two years have brought in detail but I will summarise them as best I can.<br />
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I turned 30<br />
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I moved in with a Significant other.<br />
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I turned 31<br />
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I broke up with my not so significant other<br />
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I did all this working 50-60 hour weeks.<br />
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Yep, I have been busy.<br />
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After the break up I turned what was our home into my little nest, I added furniture and decoration to my taste and I made the place feel exactly how I always wanted my home to feel. Eclectic, abstract but neat. None of the furniture matches, the appliances are old but its is clean and comfortable and I just enjoy being there. I spend a lot of time since turning 30 just hanging out there alone.<br />
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But this weekend I found myself at a loss, I had no plans, no one to see and nothing to do. Sure, I could have taken some time to relax but it wasn't what I was yearning for. What did I normally do on a Saturday afternoon?<br />
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If I ever felt lonely what happened before I turned 30, where did I go and who did I see?<br />
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Then it hit me, in living alone and working so much I had let myself get isolated. I had let myself get lazy. I had my fortress and I would get home on a Friday night and hide myself away for an entire weekend, I didn't read or write, I didn't create, I just hid. The odd night out being the only thing to puncture that routine.<br />
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The time was not even being spent productively, in the past I could read 2-4 books in a week easily. I spent very little time in front of the television. Every now and then I would have to have a clear out of books to make room for the number of them I was bringing home every week from second hand shops and thrift stores.<br />
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I would sit and listen to music for hours in the dark, I would seek out new artists and immerse myself in back catalogues before moving onto the next.<br />
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Writing. I have stopped writing, where as I used to just be constantly writing, either here in this forum or in journals or throw away pages. Almost like a form of self help or therapy, I would write about how my life was and how it felt and it would make all my problems seem better.<br />
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I would fit in socialising around all this, never going weeks without seeing friends like how it is now.<br />
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But I am not blaming anyone else. I accept that it is me that has stopped making the effort. I have stepped away from normal life and isolated myself so much that all I am right now is a full time job and not much else.<br />
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<br />Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-43569378260691147742015-09-09T10:21:00.000+01:002015-09-09T10:21:02.703+01:00Cohabiting Codependents<div style="text-align: justify;">
A year ago, if someone said that I would not only be in a relationship but I would also be living with that person. I would have scoffed at the nonsense and walked away because whoever was telling this enchanting tale, didn't know me at all, so this intrusive and presumptuous opinion on my life would probably have been most unwelcome. But a year later, I would be back tail between my legs and marvelling at their exemplary clairvoyant skills. </div>
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They say you learn a lot about yourself when you move in with a significant other. I don't know who 'They' are but it all sounds very wise and in the just the few weeks since we crossed the threshold into our own apartment, I already feel that I have discovered lots of things about myself; I didn't already know and it seems I still wish I didn't. I have compiled a list because lists are useful and organized. These appear in no particular order and may or not have a running theme building up to some astute and intelligent observation at the end, but rather appear in the order of how my brain processes or panics about the decision I made. </div>
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<b>No More Housemate Horror Stories (Hopefully...)</b></div>
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I have lived in many different places, with many different people over the years. An eclectic and eccentric bunch of people from all spectrums of society, from the the weird to the sublime. Particular favourites being the bipolar hypochondriac who used to rent out our sofa to 'Couch Surfers' and try and casually enter into conversation that their cousin, aunt, friend would be staying over at the weekend and would be using the living room like a hotel room. </div>
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Not all my roommates have been dregs on society, although the following descriptions on paper sound suspect at best, they have been thrilling housemates slash friends. The rent boy with a ketamine problem was ideal to have around for when you just NEEDED an epic night spent in Club toilets on a Monday, after a hard weekend. I have had them all, the Fashionista, the Arguing Couple, The Zombie, The Alcoholic, The Pet Keeper, all of them marvellous in their own unique special way. </div>
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But living with your boyfriend, is different. Sex whenever I want it, doubling my wardrobe, sharing bills. All the obvious perks you would expect. But something which I have found a happy bonus, is the getting to share the irrational moments at 3AM, because I am allowed to wake him up and tell him about the strange dream I had or showing him the strange rash that I swear wasn't there yesterday and thus allowing me to come off the 'I have Ebola' ledge All without finding the passive aggressive note on the fridge the next morning. </div>
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We can make plans about what we will do with the apartment decoratively and have blazing rows which call into question our entire relationship because he wants a purple statement wall or wants a shower curtain with a duck motive. We can make these plans with the reassurance that neither of us will wake up one morning to find the other has moved out in the clandestine dark of night, skipping on their share of rent and bills and half of your DVD collection. </div>
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<img alt="21 Things A Guy Quickly Learns After Moving In With His Girlfriend For The First Time" src="http://ak-hdl.buzzfed.com/static/2014-03/enhanced/webdr05/25/8/anigif_enhanced-buzz-2211-1395749673-13.gif" /></div>
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<b>Nesting</b></div>
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I like to think I am pretty easy going when it comes to my living space. You would never find yourself eating of one side of the dinner plate, whilst I cleaned the other. All the while tutting loudly about you not pulling your weight. With my last roommate, we shared the same mentality about cleaning and general tidiness. </div>
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Which is really a match made in heaven when housemates are on the same page of the 'This can wait till tomorrow, the weekend, I will just throw it away' page. I will look back on our time together fondly. But having said that, now that I am in a place with my name on it, to which I am responsible I have found myself being somewhat obsessive about cleaning. There is now about a 6 minute window from when a meal is prepared and served for the kitchen to be scrubbed clean and disinfected. I have spent an uncomfortable amount a money on bleach. </div>
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<img alt="21 Things A Guy Quickly Learns After Moving In With His Girlfriend For The First Time" src="http://ak-hdl.buzzfed.com/static/2014-03/enhanced/webdr02/25/8/anigif_enhanced-buzz-8407-1395750059-10.gif" /></div>
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<b>Utility Bills</b></div>
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Usually the bulk of my salary went on clothes, clubs and coffee but lately, I am seeing end tables, lamps and kitchenware in my future. But there is one aspect of setting up a home, that I have found to be an impossible labyrinth. I have never in my life had to decide which energy supplier is better or if the free laptop I got with my TV package was just a ruse to distract me whilst they raped and pillaged my bank account with fees and hidden costs. </div>
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Bills, Bills, Bills, are never a fun topic and they are really starting to build up. Don't even get me started on the dreaded food shop. Our most recent Tesco outing was a fun filled day of bargain hunting and adventurous meal ideas, until it was checkout time. Then it was cold sweats and nervous shaking. We were so relieved that when the shop came in at a reasonable amount that we celebrated loudly. </div>
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My boyfriend has not been of much use during this harrowing obstacle course. Having moved out from his parents home. He was actually surprised that we had to pay for luxuries such as electricity and gas. Oh to be young and wonderfully oblivious again. </div>
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My electric company wants to give me a £100.00 if I sign up, but for £100.00 am I selling my soul. Common sense of course would be to go with the who is giving the lowest rate, but I challenge anyone to go to a providers' website and easily determine which is the best. Not that it would matter now because like a sucker, I am eagerly awaiting delivery of my new laptop and we have already spent the £100.00. Maybe I will get it right next year. </div>
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<img alt="21 Things A Guy Quickly Learns After Moving In With His Girlfriend For The First Time" src="http://ak-hdl.buzzfed.com/static/2014-03/enhanced/webdr03/24/12/anigif_enhanced-buzz-30749-1395677407-14.gif" /></div>
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<b>Revelations</b></div>
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When you move in with someone, there is no hiding the fact that you are both a lot more odd than you realised. I will quite contentedly not shower for a couple of days if I have nowhere to be. Don't judge me or pretend you haven't done it. He will sometimes get incredibly silly and goofy which infuriates me to no end whilst at the same time finding it incredibly adorable. When you first start dating someone, you really are seeing them at their best effort. When you’re living with someone, you are going to see that person leaving the bathroom in a dirty pair of sweatpants with dried food stuck to their T-Shirt. Sometimes you have to remind that person to shower. Sometimes that person will point out that you have gum disease. In spite of all this, you will somehow still want to have sex with each other.</div>
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<img alt="21 Things A Guy Quickly Learns After Moving In With His Girlfriend For The First Time" src="http://ak-hdl.buzzfed.com/static/2014-03/enhanced/webdr07/24/11/anigif_enhanced-buzz-2268-1395674472-27.gif" /></div>
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It is of course very early days but I am excited about the future, blazing rows, extortionate bills, make up sex and generally being strange with my boyfriend. </div>
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So much has changed in just one year, I am now more a creature of the boardroom than the night, my priorities have completely changed but i still cling to the parts of me that are fun and exciting and reckless. </div>
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<img alt="None animated GIF " src="https://media.giphy.com/media/14igNzfnsyInpm/giphy.gif" /></div>
Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-89288104796365500012015-03-25T14:19:00.000+00:002015-03-25T14:19:12.419+00:00PDA PD Don't. Sometimes it doesn't even register with you, you reach for a kiss or hand. You snuggle your head on his shoulder at the movies, your knees touch on the tram or your hand drapes over his shoulder.<br />
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But then you snap out of it and realise that you are in public, you recoil like a spring, sit up right and push your significant other way and hiss 'You trying to get us killed!' into his ear. You look around suspiciously and the only person who saw was that delightful OAP who seems to be smiling...wait! What is she reaching for? a cross? a gun? She presses the bell and she departs with a smile. <br />
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When I was single, I would throw my proverbial eyes up into the back of my head when seeing a couple smooch or hold hands in public. To me it seemed an unnecessary view into the world of happy couples, white weddings and picket fences. However, for gay couples this action seemed to scream more of 'We're here, we're queer, get used to it' rather than the innocent actions of a couple in love. A pair of queers rubbing their smugness in the face of adversity.<br />
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But I have to stand up and admit that I am one half of one of those couples and having insider knowledge gives me the power to declare that PDA's are completely normal reactions to being in love.<br />
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No smugness, no white wedding show offs, no picket fences. Just an instinctual and gut reaction to touch the one you love.<br />
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Does it make the action any less abhorrent or disgusting? Lord no. No one wants to see a couple kiss on the street or holding hands on elevators but I can't help myself, I don't even know when I am doing it. There is no decision there, just reaction.<br />
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I was always on of those types that would declare with 100 Percent certainty that I would never be in one of <i>those </i>couples. I have since been revealed as a liar. I am one of those couples - within reason. a quick hello kiss or genuine and small amounts of tactile hand holding in discreet locations.<br />
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Practically fucking on a busy high street on a Saturday afternoon....<br />
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<br />Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-15648602087999418552014-09-04T19:58:00.000+01:002014-09-04T19:58:51.853+01:00In Case Of Emergency'Can I just get your date of birth' the nurse asks in that common over concerned but inherently insincere soothing voice. I tell her and she makes a tick with a red pen on the chart which holds my personal details.<div>
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'Any heart defects or diabetes'</div>
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'Nope'</div>
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'Any other medications'</div>
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'No'</div>
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'...And who is your emergency contact'</div>
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'Ummmmmm'</div>
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It is not an unusual question really. You are asked this on job applications, doctors appointments, insurance documents. But it was a question asked at an unexpectedly vulnerable moment. Earlier that evening doubled over in pain and debating how I would get dressed and to the hospital I had a weak moment where I thought to myself 'All of this would be easier if I had a boyfriend'. In fact that had come up several times since I had gotten ill. </div>
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Statements like 'you need to be supervised for 24 hours' or 'is there anyone at home who can look after you?', would floor me like bullets. I would think to myself that I was pathetic because at 27 I wasn't enough of a well rounded adult to have someone at home who loves me and could take care of me. It made me feel bad. </div>
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A few weeks ago, I put to my group of friends amongst jokes about being 'Forever Alone' if anyone actually wanted a boyfriend and some said yes, others said no. I said no but agreed that sometimes it would be nice to have someone to cuddle in bed with, when hungover, and just watch Netflix all day. It turns out, it would also be nice to have someone 'look after me for the next 24 - 48 hours' or to be there when I come round from an anesthetic. </div>
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'So?'</div>
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'Who is your emergency contact?' </div>
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I wondered to myself who would be the most practical person. I thought maybe Andrew as he lived and worked near by and I thought I could rely on him for stuff like this. I thought of one of my work colleagues who I knew could leave work to come and get me if the need arose. There was no point in putting a member of family as they all lived in a different country. </div>
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As she held the form out in front of me urging me to make a decision, she might as well have been holding up a placard that screamed SINGLE AND ALONE. </div>
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It felt like I needed to make a statement here. That the person I put down shouldn't be just practical. They should not be chosen by the convenience of their schedule or their proximity to the hospital. I felt like I need to prove to this demanding wench. My perception of her in this moment no doubt, in actual fact she was lovely if not a little over playing the concerned nurse bit. As I took the pen from her, I thought that there was only one person I could really rely on to make sure everything would be ok. Great in a crisis and someone who actually cared about me. My best friend.</div>
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I don't need a boyfriend as long I have someone that will drop everything and run to me if I needed them to. </div>
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I smugly handed the clipboard back to her and she ticked the box with her red pen. Without looking up at me she said.</div>
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'Any allergies'</div>
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'</div>
Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-87120855936148386652014-05-16T13:50:00.000+01:002014-05-16T14:45:16.761+01:00Come Fly With MeWe've checked in!! the email screamed with an abundance of exclamation points. My best friend Paul and fellow holiday goer and if I am being honest my travel agent had checked us all in for our flights. When I say us, I mean a group of my closest friends. We are all going to Gran Canaria for 10 days of alcohol, camaraderie and havoc. My group of friends have done this trip for the past 2 years.<br />
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Gran Canaria is the second most populated island of the coast of Spain and every year in May 3 Million queers descend on the island for a two week celebration of faggery. Pool parties, drag queens with VIP areas packed out with their friends and plenty of Z List Celebrities on the main stage.<br />
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I am told that it is a wonderful festival of debauchery and promiscuity. I wouldn't know for sure because for the last 2 years my closest friends have gone on this trip without me.<br />
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I can make up a hundred excuses, too busy, prior commitments, an acute allergy to sunlight. But really, I never had the money. Which is really just half the story, I could have had the money but I spent it on other less important things like cigarettes and coffee and other undesirable things a person should not consume.<br />
But this year, this year would be different, I would be going if it meant saving every spare penny I had. I really meant this but then life does that thing where every time it came to put some money away – something disastrous would happen. I would be evicted, I would have to change jobs, I would have to buy important things. But yet, I still somehow managed to do it. I paid the holiday off and now here we are checked in and set to go.<br />
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There is a suitcase on my bedroom floor with 15 or more kilos of barely there holiday attire. Flimsy fabrics made for warmer climes. There really isn't anything else to worry about. Not quite though, as I made my way to work this morning this morning. Coffee in hand (£1.75) with the sun shining on my face (Free) I thought about all the magical memories I would be making in just a few days. I recalled with whimsy the last holiday I went with some of the same chaps I would be travelling with this year and then I thought about those who I have not….Especially those I would be sharing a room with.<br />
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There is my friend Daniel, who when he would stay over would spread himself over every free bit of space in my room, a Ted Baker T-shirt there, a can of 7UP here. I would find empty ASDA bags days after his stay. Then there was Danny, who if I recall slept a lot and complained when woken up to early. I would be sharing a room with these two and I am an early riser and clumsy – Would this mean tip toeing my way around the room, quiet as mouse whilst at the same time trying to get through an obstacle course of Daniel’s belongings. <br />
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We have all done countless weekend’s away together and they always start the same way, on the coach on the train, scrambling around in each other’s seats, excitedly sharing stories, playing around but then on the way back, all sitting separately, quiet and subdued. Spending a lot time with the same people can be testing. I don't think this unusual and I believe many groups of friends to be this way. I think and no matter how well you know someone, that they never truly see the real you, the slob, filthy or slightly weird aspects of your personality and you can subdue those for small periods whilst you pretend to be a normal functioning adult.<br />
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Being an Adult means you get to have sex, being in Gran Canaria surrounded by other men means you really should have lots of sex.<br />
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If you don’t come home frail and ill with AIDS’ you might as well not go because every story of trips past seems to start off innocently enough before descending into a flurry of condoms, lubrication and bodily fluids. Do I want to come home riddled with STI’s, no not particularly, having said that. I don’t want to feel left out either. But if I want to keep up with my skinnier and better looking friends, where is the line between too much and not enough. It’s a lot of pressure.<br />
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In the weeks leading up to the trip it made sense in order to have 10 days of nothing but sexual perversion it might be a good idea to make myself more attractive to the same sex. This really meant dropping about 11 stone. A task easier said than done but I am pleased with the results because nothing fits me anymore and to put on a shirt that I couldn't even close just 3 months ago.Well, that feels fantastic. <br />
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There are a lot of small things, costly things that need to go into a holiday booking, travel insurance, fines and penalties for incorrect spelling of names. You need a credit agreement to buy sun tan lotion these days. I bought travel insurance for the first time in my life yesterday because the chances of me being killed in some freak drunken accident are very high. We joke about this and when we laugh, it tends to trail off in a nervous fluster as the realization that it’s definitely going to happen dawns. What better way to go than drowning in a crisp blue sea or falling from a 6th floor balcony with beautiful Tuscan tile. There are worse ways to go. I don’t really believe this will happen of course. No, I think I will die from something less rock and roll – Carbon Monoxide poisoning from a dodgy boiler or falling down an exposed manhole. But it’s always better to be safe than sorry. Or so the saying goes.<br />
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Will the ten days be worth it? Most likely, because even if I don’t have sex or if I do wake Danny up or trip over one of Daniels cans of 7UP and fall six floors down and splattering my skull off the terracotta Tuscan tile. I will be doing it with a group of beautifully dysfunctional people and that is just guaranteed fun.<br />
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Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-23856277514568339562014-05-15T14:37:00.000+01:002014-05-15T14:42:20.310+01:00Jay Z vs Solange - A Family Tides. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I read this week that Solange Knowles had been videoed attacking her Brother in Law who just happens to be Jay Z. I chuckled to myself and then carried on with the rest of my day. The video had gone viral but I didn't need to see it because it seemed all day, I was getting a play by play, from friends and co-workers. You really don’t need to see it because if you have siblings and/or in laws then there is a probable chance that you have lived it.<br />
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In-Laws are tricky, you haven’t exactly invited them into your life but yet here they are, thrusting there new baby under your nose so you can make all the baby appreciation noises an uncle or aunt is supposed to make, or they slapping your sister about and no one is supposed to say anything. Mine aren't so bad and in the grand scheme of things, I think I have got quite lucky. But having said that, there has been many a time I have wanted to attack them in a fiery frenzy of kicks and punches for the smallest indiscretion.<br />
That is why I take all the speculation about the supposed reasons the Littlest Knowles Sister for getting a flawless victory on Jay Z with a pinch of salt.<br />
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Did he hit Beyoncé and she was defending her sister’s honor?<br />
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Much talk also surrounded B’s complete lack of reaction and frankly I am not surprised. There is nothing worse than being in the middle of an irrational argument where no one is right and all you want to do is kill both parties. But who do you kill first? Is it your sister or your husband? It’s an impossible choice and the best thing she could have done is stand there and pretend none of it was happening. To which she did, exceptionally well.<br />
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So well in fact I am almost certain that she has done it before. Family are at the best of times just ticking time bombs, years of resentment, insecurities, favoritism and disappointments just bubbling under the surface. Add people that shouldn't even be there, in laws, and this is what you get. Random bursts of violence in public.<br />
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It’s always in public I should add – The most memorable family bust ups from the Brook’s family photo album have always happened in public – Weddings, christenings and funerals. <br />
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So when it comes to the Knowles/Carter bust up, the papers and gossip columnists will be quick to jump on spousal abuse, unfaithfulness and gerbils in the anal cavity. But I expect it’s something much more mundane. Something like Beyoncé and the kids would be going to his parents for Christmas. Believe me; this kind of conversation can rip a family apart quicker than a Jeremy Kyle DNA result.<br />
<br />
But with B being B – I expect we will never find out. But that is fine because in a weeks’ time we won’t care because I am sure the Kardashians are not going to sit idly by and let Team Knowles steal their column inches.<br />
<br />
I can see it now.<br />
<b><u><br /></u></b>
<b><u>Khloe Kardashian Murders Kanye West....</u></b><br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-91645799855446200052014-05-14T11:46:00.000+01:002014-05-14T13:26:47.914+01:00An Unmitigated Crisis<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://st.depositphotos.com/1724305/1207/i/950/depositphotos_12074945-Sign---no-computers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://st.depositphotos.com/1724305/1207/i/950/depositphotos_12074945-Sign---no-computers.jpg" height="294" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It's one of those things that life tells you, that you
should be prepared for. Like death. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At least with death, you are coached early in life with the
loss of hamsters, goldfish and the childhood spirit kicked to death during
those hormonally enraged high school years. These helping you grasp the fact
that something or someone you love will eventually pass on, leaving you
standing there wondering what the hell is going on and you feel like a big part
of you is now gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was this feeling of grief, helplessness and emptiness
that I looked at the light on my laptop poof away in a blaze of smoke and
sparks. When I say blaze, rather I mean the tiniest little flutter of a spark
and just a hint of burning metal. The significance of it all meant that it
might as well have exploded leaving a gaping hole in the place where my house
once stood. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The latter would have been less inconvenient. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My laptop was broken - No power, no life, and no hope. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know you might be reading this and saying to yourself 'It
is probably easily fixed' but I know my laptop like a mother knows her own
child. Although physically, it was still there I knew deep down that its
essence, the thing that made it special, its soul was gone. I have been wearing
a black veil ever since. When you find a loved one dead, you call an ambulance
and make sure the body is in the vicinity of a doctor at some point in the
preceding couple of hours - even if it is just to confirm the worst, so you can
try and deal with the aftermath, as quickly and painlessly as possible.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So it was with this need to have someone slap me in the face
and confirm the worst. My laptop was dead - it was so dead that in the computer
repair shop a little squeaky dwarf sang a little song and unrolled an
eloquently written 'Death Certificate' All melodramatically overdone and I was
35 pound down for the pleasure of this bad news.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I made way home, head down in the rain, a chorus of the
Celine Dion mega smash hit 'All by Myself' played in my head. I felt cold,
naked and alone. I was half way home when I realized that 'Home' was slowly rotting away in my bag and the only
thing of interest waiting for me when I got in, was a fridge full diet and
bland foods. My current weight loss regime meant nothing without being able to
brag about it to my online friends. The option of going home and stuffing my
face seemed a boring prospect – there is no joy found in plain chicken and
brown rice let me tell you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought back to times when I never had a laptop and if I
am honest those memories were filled with me frolicking in the hills; book in
hand ready to take on the world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Simple fact is, during times when I was sans laptop and if
memory serves me correctly, I was skinnier, more productive, more reliable (No,
I can't come today...I uh..have work to do) and better read. Although I had no
idea what was going on in the world, instead of my weekly helping of EastEnders
courtesy of BBC IPlayer - Every time I got near internet access I trawled
through the World Wide Web for compilation videos of Kat Slater’s best bits and
I could relax knowing I had seen everything I needed to see.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also missed major events in the lives of my nearest and
dearest acquaintances - break ups, the odd get together, falling out - all
wonderfully unremarkable but a staple of my day - without Facebook telling me
everyone around me was having a worst time than I was - what could I use to
boost own self esteem? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I was given the diagnosis of death, immediate thoughts
of who could help came to mind, calling home, putting on my saddest 'help me
Mummy' voice would have a there would be a laptop and care package filled with
healthy foods and statements of disappointment would be at my front door before
I could get the key in but something held me back from doing so. I would like
to say pride but it could also have been a simple case of picking my battles -
I have a holiday coming up and the chance that I may need a sudden injection of
cash for missed flights, bail and court costs - far outweighed the need for a
computer device. My Mother gets it, she also has a laptop which she uses on
daily basis but after several years has still not grasped the most basic of
functions but she soldiers on like a trouper - pounding the keyboard with her
fists and the odd swear word and still managing to send me semi-coherent
message telling me she has discovered Skype - Or even better call me on her
mobile, at extortionate rates to tell me of the benefits of Skype. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So she gets it, In fact I would even surmise that she thinks
it keeps me off the streets and out of trouble little does she know, instead of
ordering take away at 3 in the morning in the comfort of my own bed from
Just-Eat, I will now need to wander around the city in my pajamas underneath my
good coat (One balances out the other) to find an open take away. Without the
assistance of the internet - I could be put in the throes of more danger than I
could have ever imagined.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have never been a conventional television viewer and I
liked to be one those pricks that bragged about never watching television,
implying I didn't agree with the hold it had over society whilst at the same
time, loosing days to Netflix – Sometimes even weeks. But I never kept to
the schedule laid out in TV Guides but watched shows in my own time at my own
leisure – I don’t even own a TV I would claim proudly – I can still stay
that now. But now I say through tears, whilst friends comfort me with
reassuring pats on the back. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But now I was facing the prospect of having neither. But I
still had a library card – which always seemed like one of the perks of being a
living breathing tax paying citizen – I haven’t paid any tax this year from
what I can only gather is some kind of clerical error in the tax office and I
haven’t yet gotten around to telling them because they might be a bit busy and
alerting them to this error seems akin with telling your waiter he didn't
charge for the portion of chicken wings you had as a starter. You just
don’t do it. But now it seems like an absolute necessity and should be a
basic human right.So in the preceding days I have spent even more time in the
library and sometimes, I don’t even check in on Facebook to let people know I
am there. I am not saying this is something I always did in the past – before
making my way to the nearest Starbucks to read heat magazine. I had an
empty desk, which had less dust on the surface where my laptop used to sit, not
unlike the white chalk outline that episodes of Law and Order have thought me
is common at the scene of a murder. I could only fill this empty space with
books – There is a little metaphor wrapped up in real life there somewhere. In
case you didn't notice. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am not a book snob, so I am pleased to tell you I have read
some not so great literary classics about wrestling, about being a drug dealer,
about Amazon and Tesco’s history and I am currently reading a collection of
stories from bouncers and bodyguards. I am feeding my mind – but not
necessarily my body. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I alluded to earlier I am currently on a weight loss
regime. I want to be healthier and more active and I used to do this by
standing by water fountains and watching people, skinnier people, run on
treadmills – I am quite good on a treadmill I must admit but I find it so ball
achingly boring that its hard to put any gusto behind it. I just hoped that the
walk to and from the gym is enough work to give me Adonis like credibility. But
now I go to a less up market gym where the equipment is sticky and worn, and standing
around doesn't look so conspicuous because there is a queue to use everything –
I mean everything. But I also feel less self-conscious around people who
have opted to use this gym; there is something that says you are not too
serious about losing weight when you pay so little. But this gym also has a
pool and I am good in a pool, I can swim well and its working out but not
really, because it is actually fun and it doesn't feel like you are doing
anything to strenuous. But without Netflix or a boyfriend to go home to, I have
absolutely no reason to be at home and I can’t expect the friends I have
managed to keep over the years – to walk the streets with me without even the
prospect of a hot drink because I can’t afford hot drinks. Well I can, but only
during a small 12 hour window after pay day. But that is a whole other issue
which I will get back to later. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I find myself going to the gym and not counting down the
seconds, so I jump on the treadmill fighting off others who have skipped the
subtle queue system. This mostly entails standing near the machine you want to
use, looking at your watch and tutting loudly. I find myself being on there
longer than I have ever been – this could possibly be down to the fact I can
watch Coronation Street. But I won’t argue over semantics, all that matters is
the end result. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once I have worked out/caught up on the latest Tina and
Peter scandal, I reward myself with a swim. If it’s not filled with kids
or Asians swimming like bullets up and down the slow lane, ruining it for
everyone. But I do like swimming and I get to shower at the gym which
means I am not spending additional and scarce funds on electricity. So far this
week, I have spent most of my spare time at the gym this past week that I spend
very little time at home or in stores or coffee shops spending beyond my means. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a job, which might shock some and I earn about the
average wage for my age group and socio economic status (I have no Idea what
this means but it makes me sound like I do so I will carry on) and I lack any
desire to have responsibilities – I can just about tear myself out of bed in
the morning. So I have very few bills or debts. But I never have any money
and I never have anything to show for it – Now you might be wondering how this
relates to my broken laptop. Relax, I will get there. But get this, I
don’t have the money to buy a new one which is fine because not many people can
bang out £400 pounds worth of electrical goods at the drop of a hat. The
absence of Facebook, Twitter, Fitlads, Gaydar, Pornhub, Blogger, Bebo, Myspace,
MSN Chat, Buzzfeed, Huffington Post, Tickld, Lamebook, Failblog, BBC News, BBC
IPlayer, Rockettube, and so on got me thinking about other ways that my
subconscious would scream out for entertainment – I was foreseeing spending
splurges which would kill not only my crippling bank balance (Which now sits at
17 pence. YES! 17 whole pence) But also my waistline. But it didn't go like
that, quite the opposite in fact. I still have that 17 pence and my waistline
has not expanded but has in fact shrunk. This has presented plethora of other
problems such as my belt and trousers now being too big. But let’s not dwell on
the negative. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I leave the house at 7 in the morning and I don’t back till
10 in the evening and I shouldn't really brag because it has only been a week
but I predict big things in the coming days – But I have my first big hurdle to
get over first. I am terrified of what I might do to tackle the two most
daunting things I have ever had to face, unarmed and unprepared.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Weekend......<o:p></o:p></div>
Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-223206714299621262013-12-08T17:47:00.002+00:002014-05-14T11:37:26.088+01:00Reservations For One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://media.irishcentral.com/images/419*279/lonelyChristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://media.irishcentral.com/images/419*279/lonelyChristmas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
As I nursed the hot chocolate he had placed in front of me, and after we had talked about the small random things, generally just to get them out of the way before we talked about the real things we wanted to talk about. Questions like 'How is work? How is your Mother? How are the family', followed by empty sentiments like 'Tell them I said hi' or even worse making plans to see them, that will never be followed through. He has something more important to tell me, to share with me and to get my opinion on. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
'I went to the cinema on my own' my friend Ben exclaims as if he has just told me a dark secret. I am half expecting at any moment for him to look around to make sure we aren't being watched and then sliding an envelope over to my side of the table, which will contain further instructions and a map. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am proud of this development of his, there has been many times when I have recommended he try certain things and challenge himself. There are certain things I have no aversion to and doing things normally regarding as social activities, all by myself. I have often gone to see movies without the accompaniment of a friend and I have and prefer eating alone in restaurants. I love to read and eat at the same time, so it works out perfectly for me. A couple of years ago, I set myself a challenge to go out alone, and I chickened out more than once, it took the intervention of a friend to finally force me to answer that challenge, when I was invited out and then abandoned within a few minutes, followed by an encouraging text message - telling me I could do it. It was a perfectly fine evening and although I got talking to many different people, it didn't feel right. Going out, drinking and socialising is just something that I enjoy doing more with friends. But before then, I never would have walked into a club or a bar without knowing there was someone in there I already knew, now I can easily relax in a bar with a drink and wait for friends without feeling self conscious. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I was proud of my friend Ben, who is socially introverted and relies on the company he keeps to partake in social activities. It was this conversation that got me thinking about how I should spend Christmas this year. Possibly alone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The simple truth is, I would like to spend Christmas this year with the people I love, my Mother and my siblings. However I can't get enough time off work to make it home this year, with just two days off for the Christmas period. My brother is also away this year, his working keeping him in New Zealand for the foreseeable future and being so far away at such a special time, I know he is feeling very homesick. We have made plans to Skype each other on Christmas day, and depending on if he has any plans with his friends or not, I have suggested that I cook something and put in the microwave, and when he is ready to eat, we can eat together over Skype and open the presents we sent each other. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That still leaves me with the day time, to fill and make plans for. I have been welcomed around to several different places for Christmas day and I know these offers have been made with sincere intentions. But I don't want to intrude on anyones day and I also don't want to feel awkward being around people I don't know that well. Christmas traditions can be special and private and to be honest, the whole thing seems like too much pressure. My roommate has suggested that we cook in our flat and have some drinks, should he decide to stay in the city for the Christmas period, something which I am more open to doing. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I have also given consideration to what I would do, if I was to spend my first Christmas alone. What kind of humor would it put me in. In my head, I am watching Christmas movies on my couch, eating too much and feeling very much relaxed. But if I was to make that commitment to myself, could I do it? Last year, I had a perfect Christmas, spent the day with my family, evening with friends and then I spent the night alone, watching movies and dozing on the couch and I very much liked spending the time by myself. But I had the right mix of company and me time. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can I do it? Spend Christmas alone. I guess we will see.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-21163364791341697162013-11-24T18:27:00.000+00:002014-05-14T11:34:02.084+01:00The Art Of Making New Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://listdose.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/mfriends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="http://listdose.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/mfriends.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Saturday afternoon, in a break from my usual routine, of doing not very much. I found myself in the city centre apartment, which belongs to my friend and in between beers and songs we talked about friends and in particular, friendship.<br />
<br />
I think, although he hasn't said it that having just come out of a relationship, he has come to realise that the friends he didn't keep up with in the years he spent with his boyfriend have moved on and that friends he and his ex boyfriend shared have picked their side. As we sat on his floor, listening to music and making small talk, he made the exclamation that he would like some 'new friends'. He is not a new person in my life, in fact I have known him for many years but we have never really moved from acquaintance, into good friends. We have many things in common, so there was no reason why we shouldn't be closer, it just never seemed to happen. So that is how I found myself sitting on his floor and going through his CD collection. I was consciously making more effort. I have a great close knit group of friends, a core group and our lives are very much intertwined but sometimes, you do need a break, someone who is just yours, so you can talk about all the crazy stuff you do, that you don't want your core group to know. I met Jay many years ago at a party and we have stayed in contact over the years, through Facebook comments and likes, as I said we have many things in common, so in my quest to make a new friend, I thought to myself, who better than Jay.<br />
<br />
So when he made that statement, whilst sipping on his beer, It hadn't occurred to me that he might be looking for the exact same thing. As I made my way home in the evening, it got me thinking.<br />
<br />
I was lucky as a child, to have a best friend growing up. With just 2 months between our births, he was always there, we were always friends, stories like, we shared a playpen and a pram have done the rounds in both our families and I had my brother, I have never really struggled to make friends or keep them and there are just two occasions in my life so far, when I have felt like I had no one. I had a solid group of friends in high school but when school finished, I wasn't really prepared for how quickly that group would just disappear. Almost overnight, I found myself without buddies, even my brother moved away at this time, so there was this year in my life, when I had no friends and no real idea on how to make any.<br />
<br />
One of the lasting lingering feelings from that time was coming to the harsh conclusion that I was so very uncool. There may have been some situations, in my over eagerness to have a friend, that I might have been pushy or needy whenever (Rarely...!) I was invited to social situations. Which tended to be work parties.<br />
<br />
So it goes like this, you have a cool work friend, who tells you about all the fun stuff they do in the weekends and you listen and you smile and you laugh at the right places but really you are dying a little bit inside and they utter those immortal words like 'You should come next time' and then they flutter away, whilst you stand there not able to say a word and you don't sleep for days because you just can't tell if they were being sincere or not. Turns out they weren't.<br />
<br />
But it is a feeling that has stayed with me over the years, not having anyone to talk too, about family and life stuff at the time was very difficult and I have been fortunate enough to never having had to experience it again. Even if I didn't have someone to talk about scary life stuff with, what I missed the most was just hanging out, escaping the drudgery of of my daily routine every now and then.<br />
<br />
When I moved to Manchester for the first time, I was aware that I was putting myself out there again and for a couple of months, I found myself right back to that insecure place and I was relying on my brother and his boyfriend for my social respite, whilst at the same time living with them. When I tried again a few months later, I had the support of two of my best friends, so when I started working in the city, I quickly made some new friends, who just happened to be the greatest people I had ever met.<br />
<br />
That is always the way, whenever you already have something, you have it in abundance but when you need it or want. Tumbleweed. It can by a very tricky mine field, sometimes more precarious than dating. Finding a good friend, that you can trust, rely on and confide in, is far more subtle and understated than finding love. With dating, its out there, both parties are aware of the intentions, with finding a new friend, its hard to decipher the subtle hints of friendship and at what point do you confide in or invite to social occasions and more importantly let them see you at your worst. Plus, you have to figure out what kind of relationship it is. Work friends, acquaintances, best friends, friends of friends, buddies, chums. But really, its not quantity, it is quality. If you have even one person, you can rejoice with, love, laugh and cry with, inconvenience and annoy, spend hours and hours with doing absolutely nothing and calling it the time of your lives. Then count yourself fortunate.<br />
<br />
Friendship can be the most important relationship you ever have, people forget how complicated it can be or how beneficial to us for our survival, as a person and a race.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-15419410502249218332013-11-10T20:14:00.001+00:002014-05-14T11:34:02.077+01:00Bright Lights<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://landingsandtakeoffs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/concert-smoke-crowd-people-concert-music-youth-club-photos-crowd-cheering-the-mood-the-smoke-tools-136417-2560x1440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://landingsandtakeoffs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/concert-smoke-crowd-people-concert-music-youth-club-photos-crowd-cheering-the-mood-the-smoke-tools-136417-2560x1440.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
There is nothing remarkable, in fact all across the country there are people doing the exact same thing, in locations just like this one. But I can't imagine anyone of them are feeling exactly the same way I am. I am riding such a high, its not just narcotics - it feels almost visceral and as I move to this beat. I know I am exactly where I need to be.<br />
<br />
I am surrounded by people that love me, people I love, fellow revellers and people who don't know me and I feel epic, so much in unison that simple looks convey an entire conversation in just seconds. Adjectives like amazing and fantastic are exchanged with glances and smiles, not words. Bodies are moving, individual and unique all of them, they move in unison to a familiar beat, jam or melody.<br />
<br />
My friends are all around me, touches to show how we love each other, hugs to celebrate those bonds. He is there and his attention is not on me and I don't care because to me, in that moment everything is about riding out this wave of fantastical arrogance. It's about me, I feel amazing. I feel alive.<br />
<br />
You go out, you drink, you smoke, you sniff, you ride and it gets tired. You get tired of the same routine, same faces, same judgements, same backwards glances, recrimination. Because on paper the itinerary looks the same but each night holds something so different, new people, new moves, bad experiences combined with some good times. But every now and then something just happens and it erases everything that's come before it and from then on, you are living up to a new expectation of wondrous ambiguity. What exactly will happen next.<br />
<br />
You can tell yourself after a bad time, that it was the last time. Sometimes for some people it is. But not for me, for me its an empty term because I know I will keep going back until it has nothing left to offer me. The premise itself is so simple yet so magical and it takes just the right combination, the correct mix to get it exactly right, people, friends, lovers, music, timing and the rest. That X meets the spot, that X which you can't quite put your finger on but it holds the key to keeping everything else in tune, connected.<br />
<br />
Eventually the time comes when it has to end and I might be going home alone but I don't care because I feel like I have shared something whole with a room full of people who don't even know my name but they have seen me dance, they have danced with me, beside me.<br />
<br />
For just a few short hours, it felt ok to be part of the crowd and as I walk home to place that isn't mine but is filled with some of the greatest people I have ever met, I feel good.<br />
<br />
No.<br />
<br />
I feel fantastic.<br />
<br />
We are fantastic.Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-36275168379323441232013-05-16T22:12:00.001+01:002015-03-26T11:17:44.662+00:00Cheating Scumbag?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was a discussion I had with a friend about the intricate workings of a relationship, that got me thinking about this again. Like the inside of a watch, it takes a complicated system, to keep the hands turning. If one part of that system fails, well like a house of cards, it can come tumbling down. So many of the rules of a relationship are unspoken, most work under the assumption, that the normal socially acceptable standards of love, apply to their union. I have come to this conclusion, not from having many relationships of my own, but of watching the couples around me.<br />
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Many people disagree with my outlook on <i>cheating</i>, I have to use the word cheating to make my point a little more simpler and to avoid confusion. I have been guilty of <i>cheating</i> in the past, guilty is a word I use but not something I really felt. I was guilty in the eyes and standards of social norms.<br />
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For most people, once a relationship becomes serious, there is usually a discussion of exclusivity That person becomes yours and yours only. But sometimes, it just doesn't work out that way. Maybe its a text message on a phone, or an email in an inbox, or worse, walking in and seeing it with your eyes. This usually spells the end of a relationship, when someone betrays the bed and home which you have made together.<br />
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But what if I was to tell you that love and fidelity were not mutually exclusive. What If I said, you could have one without the other. In the same way, you can have monogamy without really being in love. Separating the act from the person, can go along way in making sure your union lasts.<br />
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The first time I ever '<i>cheated'</i> was when I stared to really think about this. My first real relationship almost came to an end when I on a wild night out, which last almost a full 24 hours, alcohol and speed and a bathhouse. When I sat down and told him, a few days later, I was understandably nervous. I wouldn't have told him at all, had it not been for the fact that some of his friends had already heard I had gone to a sauna. I felt it would be much better if it came from me. I had thought long and hard about why I had done it and what it meant for our relationship. At the time I thought I loved him and that hadn't changed and after much supposed soul searching, I found the answer to be rather mundane. I was simply horny, it was there and it was convenient. I didn't say this to him of course and I went through the motions of telling him how sorry I was and that it would never happen again. I assessed what it might have meant again when the relationship ended and couldn't really give myself a different answer.<br />
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A few months after the relationship came to a much relieving end, I met a couple. The couple propositioned me for a threesome and as I got to know them and saw they had a pretty strong bond, I was enthralled about what they told me. How they had come to have such a unique understanding. It was the first time I ever came across an open relationship, in the flesh and working so well. 'We are not naive, we know that even though we love each other very much, that both of us will look outside the home for sexual gratification and that is okay, as long as both of us know, that it is just sex'.<br />
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The concept seemed so remarkable to me but at the same time, it made so much sense. Since then, my outlook on what most people would call <i>cheating</i> has been very different from those of my peers. Explaining this to people who have not agreed with me in the past, has always been frustrating and I have reached a point now, where I don't bother. I have not yet had the opportunity to explore this with another partner but ideally it is something they would need to be at least open to discussing as our relationship developed.<br />
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It has also made me think about what I would consider to be 'cheated on'. If someone I loved, slept with someone else, would I feel betrayed. No, I don't think so. As long as they were upfront and honest about it, careful about my health then I would be able to deal with that. But what if they developed feelings for someone else? That makes the situation understandably trickier.<br />
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But all of this is just thoery, as I have not put it into practice. It could all go out the window, if I met the one and he made me want him and only him.Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-3767248054337925072013-03-15T02:47:00.000+00:002015-03-26T11:27:52.650+00:00The Gay Agenda<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tonight, I have been reading a lot of other posts, by many fine bloggers. This is something I used to enjoy doing quite often, committing to a few hours in the evening to doing just that, but admittedly over the past few months, I have been really just posting, checking for comments and not much else. I have read this evening, a couple of posts from gay men like myself, who talk about campaigning for gay marriage and equality, how much it means to them, I have read other posts about homophobia, about identity issues and struggles.<br />
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I don't mean to isolate myself from my peers but some of these things, have not been something I easily identify with.<br />
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On Facebook, I read posts and status updates from my gay friends, expressing their outrage at government legislation that will not allow them to legally marry, or express their dismay that the new pope, has already condemned the gay community, less than 24 hours after taking position. I should be equally angered, dismayed and disappointed.<br />
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But I am not.<br />
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Coming out, is one of those rights of passage that all of us, as part of the LGBT community must go through, at some stage in our lives and it seems for the majority, this tends to be a time, rife with tension, conflict and confusion.<br />
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We read so much about suicide, alienation from loved ones and even violence. I have never encountered genuine homophobia, I have been called a faggot or a queer, usually as a generic tool of insult or good humored shade. I have never knowingly encountered someone, who had real disdain or disgust. When someone goes through that, I can understand then, that gay rights are of paramount importance to them.<br />
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But, I didn't experience any of this. My coming out was an almost non event, there was no conflict, no alienation and no violence. It was just a fleeting moment in my life. I have not been defined by this grand gesture of taking ownership of my sexuality. So I can only surmise that the reason, that fighting for my right to get married or seen as equal in the eyes of the church and the law, are not that important. There is no fight in me for such causes. I don't much care what the church or the government thinks of me, or my choices and I have no desire to campaign along side my brethren for the rights we deserve.<br />
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Being gay, does not define me. In all honesty, its just a really small part of who I am. I have sex with other men and to me, and that's where it ends really. I think it's only a matter of time before it all comes together and we are all declared equal and I am happy to wait, I doubt I will even find it cause for celebration. It will just be another fleeting moment in my life.Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7405257825566100432.post-64293470323487163962011-10-03T19:58:00.000+01:002018-05-21T19:32:46.566+01:00The Break Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Do you remember the post I made about relationships and the terms and conditions that usually accompany them? (<a href="http://ianjosephbrook.blogspot.com/2011/09/relationships-terms-and-conditions.html">Read it here</a>).<br />
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The perfect couple that I looked up to, used as a template for any future relationship, have made me seriously consider entering into a new relationship, with a new glimmer of hope. Well, they have split up. There have been a whole load of issues which have 'caused' the break up, I won't go into them here as it is not my story to tell.<br />
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Whenever I have dealt with a break up directly or seeing a friend or family member, I have always seen it as something that needed to happen. These relationships have been close to breaking point, or one of party has done something which means the relationship cannot plausibly continue, others have just been volatile from the start and it was obvious they would not last long. Regardless of reason, the break up is usually the best thing for everyone involved.<br />
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But not in this case, as I said this is not my story to tell but there was some circumstances which may have caused friction in the relationship. They have recently moved from the suburbs to the city centre, one of them has been ill, both are feeling stress from their jobs and they have made a lot of new friends, socialising a lot etc.<br />
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I can't help but feel that the stress has got to both of them and they have blamed their relationship for it. They are so perfect together and I am so sad they have come to this decision. They have been together for four years and I am worried they have rushed into the decision. It came about and they had split up in a matter of hours. I do hope this is just blip and when they sit down to talk and figure some stuff out.<br />
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On a more selfish level, I want them to get back together as they are very good friends of mine and we socialise a lot and have a lot of fun and I don't want them fun times to end. I like them as a couple and I know they love each other very much and I think the reasons they have broken up can be fixed or changed, it just takes time and might be hard work.<br />
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When I split up with my last serious boyfriend, it was on the horizon for months, we had a very volatile 12 months and in the last 6 months, I fell out of love with him, I started to resent him and when I finally took the big step by moving out of our apartment, I was more excited than heartbroken, I was happy. However these two are missing each other very much, it makes no sense to me that they should be apart.<br />
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I really hope they get back together, if they cannot make it work, then what hope do the rest of us have.Mind Of Minehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09112890718925524313noreply@blogger.com10