The date is not set in stone, but it looks like I will be moving out in a matter of weeks. The house is nearly finished and I am just waiting for the final inspections to take place and then I will be out of my parents house..... at last.
However, as I sit and start to box up my life again I am beginning to feel the weight of the change beginning to settle in. I'm going to be paying a mortgage, I'm going to be paying bills, i am even going to have a tumble dryer. In a sick way I feel like an adult for the first time since I moved back home, and suddenly all my memories are more vivid and powerful than ever.
I'm in the middle right now of clearing out and throwing out all of my unwanted things and boxing up the stuff I want to keep and move over to the new house. However, its become a bit of an emotional minefield, with every other item throwing up another set of memories, good and bad.
This morning while I was clearing out my wardrobe I found my old school sports bag. It packed with two pairs of jeans and some shirts and a battered pair of trainers. I remembered I packed it at 16 when I tried to run away from home after yet another row with my mother, I never left but it was never unpacked. Right next to it was a bottle of vodka, emptied when I drank every night to get over the pain of first love. When I looked at my bookcase I still saw a glass rose he gave me for our first valentines together, it has the word "Forever" carved into the base, sadly the relationship didn't last quite as long. In the bed side cabinets I found my old black and white mobile I got after pestering my parents for nearly a month, then the coloured one I got to replace it about a year later. Old Christmas cards from my grandparents, who are now almost all gone, were tucked in the drawer under my bed, often never read once I extracted the money from them.
Childhood art projects that are little more than sketches, much loved and battered books, clothes I'll never wear again. I see the truth that most people seem to want to ignore. We as a species are emotional pack rats, and it's not just objects that clutter up our lives. Every item is a memory, every memory is a feeling, and every feeling still feels as deep, as painful and as beautiful as they were when we first felt them.
Is it any wonder that we can't bear to part with even the most mundane and awful things that fill up our cupboards and drawers.
I found one of my old school notebooks, half filled with my Law class notes, but mostly filled with doodles and badly drawn penises.... or is it peni for the plural. A shoe box filled with pictures and souvenirs from almost forgotten holidays, most of which in hated at the time. I found the suicide note my mother once wrote after a bad bout of whiskey induced depression. She survived but I kept it to remember how angry she made me, and I wouldn't ever think it was my fault.
After an hour of digging through my memories I decided it was best I stopped. There are only so many scars I can reopen before I need a break.
Not all of my memories are bad though sometimes those are the ones that stand out. I still have pictures of happy times with my ex who I'm lucky enough to still talk to. Old cloakroom tickets from amazing nights out with my uni mates. Ticket stubs from some of my favourite London shows. Everything comes back to me so easily the more I dig through.
It reminds me of the importance of my past in how it has shaped me so far. As I now move out and move on, I look forward to my future, and all the other opportunities to make more memories, good, bad, and both together.
Sunday 19 December 2010
Sunday 12 December 2010
Confessions of Another Shopaholic
I think that we all have an addiction to something. For some people its drugs, sometimes it's drink, or even food. But addiction isn't confined to just these substances, and if you believe some of the hysteria in the press it is possible to be addicted to almost anything.
For me it has become shopping.
I know what you are thinking, it's such a cliche really. Surely its impossible to be addicted to shopping itself, I tell myself this when I go out on a spending binge. This eventually led to me spending my £1,000 overdraft in 1 months and skipping dinner more than one night in a row because I simply couldn't afford it. This was years ago though, and I comforted myself with the idea that every student is like that, spending on outs and clothes, books and CD's. I mean if everyone is like that then there is nothing wrong, right ?
Now that I'm a few years older, and a few years wiser (I hope) I am a lot more together than I was. But the other day I realised that every time my life felt a little "bleak" the first thing I wanted to do was go out and go on a very very expensive shopping spree. Some people say you can't buy happiness, I say that we have much better stores now, and happiness can be found in ignoring your bank balance and loosing yourself to a little reckless spending.
My latest binge was on Friday. I had dinner plans with a really good mate, one of my efforts of kicking my social life into touch. This mate was also due to come out shopping with me and one of my other mates on Saturday and he was driving me up to the massive shopping centre on the other end of the county to help me out with picking some furniture for my new house. A relief for me a chronic non driver.
10 minutes before I leave the office on Friday I get that horrible text you always dread. He met someone, it was oust at first sight so he wasn't coming out for dinner. He also wasn't driving the next day because he anticipated a heavy night of what he referred to as a "sausage casserole", classy eh?
Now I was disappointed. After all work was stressful, the house is stressful. Me worrying about how I'm going to pay my mortgage and rent out rooms to tenants is always playing on my mind these days. These dinners or nights out help me get out of myself and get me back to thinking clearly. I was also so fucked off that he left it to the last moment to tell me. And cancelling because of his newest playmate ?? I mean how bad is that ?
I stewed all the way home, and when I got in front of my computer I tried to make myself feel better by binging in on some music from iTunes. £100 in 20 minutes on music and films later I felt loads better. And now I'm addicted to the idea of buying a £2,000 laptop when I already have one that works. Now tell me there isn't a problem ......
Socrates himself once said "everything in moderation... including moderation". It's an easy enough quote to understand which tells us to not let ourselves get carried away with extremes or excesses. I am sitting here thinking that they should print those on the receipts from Topman and the Apple store, give little old Shopaholics like me a much needed guilt trip.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
For me it has become shopping.
I know what you are thinking, it's such a cliche really. Surely its impossible to be addicted to shopping itself, I tell myself this when I go out on a spending binge. This eventually led to me spending my £1,000 overdraft in 1 months and skipping dinner more than one night in a row because I simply couldn't afford it. This was years ago though, and I comforted myself with the idea that every student is like that, spending on outs and clothes, books and CD's. I mean if everyone is like that then there is nothing wrong, right ?
Now that I'm a few years older, and a few years wiser (I hope) I am a lot more together than I was. But the other day I realised that every time my life felt a little "bleak" the first thing I wanted to do was go out and go on a very very expensive shopping spree. Some people say you can't buy happiness, I say that we have much better stores now, and happiness can be found in ignoring your bank balance and loosing yourself to a little reckless spending.
My latest binge was on Friday. I had dinner plans with a really good mate, one of my efforts of kicking my social life into touch. This mate was also due to come out shopping with me and one of my other mates on Saturday and he was driving me up to the massive shopping centre on the other end of the county to help me out with picking some furniture for my new house. A relief for me a chronic non driver.
10 minutes before I leave the office on Friday I get that horrible text you always dread. He met someone, it was oust at first sight so he wasn't coming out for dinner. He also wasn't driving the next day because he anticipated a heavy night of what he referred to as a "sausage casserole", classy eh?
Now I was disappointed. After all work was stressful, the house is stressful. Me worrying about how I'm going to pay my mortgage and rent out rooms to tenants is always playing on my mind these days. These dinners or nights out help me get out of myself and get me back to thinking clearly. I was also so fucked off that he left it to the last moment to tell me. And cancelling because of his newest playmate ?? I mean how bad is that ?
I stewed all the way home, and when I got in front of my computer I tried to make myself feel better by binging in on some music from iTunes. £100 in 20 minutes on music and films later I felt loads better. And now I'm addicted to the idea of buying a £2,000 laptop when I already have one that works. Now tell me there isn't a problem ......
Socrates himself once said "everything in moderation... including moderation". It's an easy enough quote to understand which tells us to not let ourselves get carried away with extremes or excesses. I am sitting here thinking that they should print those on the receipts from Topman and the Apple store, give little old Shopaholics like me a much needed guilt trip.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday 7 December 2010
Friends and Lovers
Compared to most people, I like to think I am a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to romance. Even if I am not so traditional when it comes to my sexuality.
It's the whole Disney Fairytale thing that I was raised with. That cosmic idea at there is one person in all the world that you are destined for..... usually with a lot of talking animal friends which you would only see in real life with the assistance of very powerful narcotics. Either way you went through life knowing the difference, your friends were your friends, and your lovers were usually princes with lots of money and a palace in the nice part of town.
Now as I have gotten older I have accepted that sometimes the lines get blurred.... usually beyond recognition. This has happened to me before too and even though most times it has been good, other times it has left me wanting something I know I shouldn't. At the end of the day I'm wondering if it's really healthy.
The reason I wonder this is because of one guy, as usual he will have an alias, and this time it's Fitty. Obvious reason for this, he is hot as hades in summer, plus for a private and slightly twisted secret in joke.
Anyway Fitty and I go back, in fact we were together for a very long time in my early 20's and we fell fast and hard. Now obviously it didn't work out, it was too perfect, and we ended up just being friends. Which later became friends with benefits....
I won't lie, the sex is unbelievable. The talking is still as deep and meaningful as it ever was too. Really he is like a secret boyfriend who only comes out when we are both single and in that kind of mood. But the reason I worry is that I am not sure what I prefer in this awkward set up, the friend who I have sex with, or the lover who is my friend.
The other day he started off my saying how I was a brilliant lay, and a great person. Which is all true..... but it sounds a little bit like the line is blurring with him as well. Back when we first split up, this would of been great. Now though..... it's not.
Maybe I'm going against my Disney upbringing, but I don't want to settle anymore, I want to be free and to enjoy my life instead of tying myself down to someone who has already broken my heart once. Maybe some lines once blurred can never go back to the way they were. Or maybe in should just shut the fuck up and enjoy the great sex........
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It's the whole Disney Fairytale thing that I was raised with. That cosmic idea at there is one person in all the world that you are destined for..... usually with a lot of talking animal friends which you would only see in real life with the assistance of very powerful narcotics. Either way you went through life knowing the difference, your friends were your friends, and your lovers were usually princes with lots of money and a palace in the nice part of town.
Now as I have gotten older I have accepted that sometimes the lines get blurred.... usually beyond recognition. This has happened to me before too and even though most times it has been good, other times it has left me wanting something I know I shouldn't. At the end of the day I'm wondering if it's really healthy.
The reason I wonder this is because of one guy, as usual he will have an alias, and this time it's Fitty. Obvious reason for this, he is hot as hades in summer, plus for a private and slightly twisted secret in joke.
Anyway Fitty and I go back, in fact we were together for a very long time in my early 20's and we fell fast and hard. Now obviously it didn't work out, it was too perfect, and we ended up just being friends. Which later became friends with benefits....
I won't lie, the sex is unbelievable. The talking is still as deep and meaningful as it ever was too. Really he is like a secret boyfriend who only comes out when we are both single and in that kind of mood. But the reason I worry is that I am not sure what I prefer in this awkward set up, the friend who I have sex with, or the lover who is my friend.
The other day he started off my saying how I was a brilliant lay, and a great person. Which is all true..... but it sounds a little bit like the line is blurring with him as well. Back when we first split up, this would of been great. Now though..... it's not.
Maybe I'm going against my Disney upbringing, but I don't want to settle anymore, I want to be free and to enjoy my life instead of tying myself down to someone who has already broken my heart once. Maybe some lines once blurred can never go back to the way they were. Or maybe in should just shut the fuck up and enjoy the great sex........
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday 4 December 2010
Identity Theft: The Tragedy of a Relationship
Do relationships mean the end of your own personal identity? As a single man coming out of a long term relationship I am beginning to think so.
In my experiences relationships come in one of 2 categories. Some are like Fireworks, the are exciting, they explode in a fiery collection of vibrant colours, but when they are over it's like they never existed. But then you have some relationships that are like houses, there's a lot of lead up, a lot of planning, it's slow to build up, but you can build a whole life around it.
The problem with the latter type is that when you get too far in then suddenly you start to loose yourself to them. The 'I' becomes the royal 'we'. I have done this myself, I would talk about a movie and say "we loved that film" or "we thought that cinema was a dive". Doesn't sound awful does it, but it's usually only the start.
Don't get me wrong it isn't a bad thing to do things together. Hell, one of the fun parts of dating is doing lots of stuff together. The problem only really comes in when you start to itch for your own space again, and your own opinion. I have seen this happen to friends, and it's sad. I went to one recently snatched up mate and asked him about his plans for new years. He said he would check with his boyfriend, or to use his actual words "I make sure it is OK with him"...... I am sorry but what the FUCK is with that?!? If you want to do it, do it, if you don't, then don't. bring the boyfriend or don't, and so what if you fly solo? You don't need to be attached at the hip, and if
But then sometimes they are and that's even more disturbing.
You ever see a long term couple in a club? I saw one recently and they were wearing matching colour coordinated outfits *gag*, stayed to the side of the dance floor all night, and stared at all the singles as if they were superior? Normally it doesn't bug me, I have been in a relationship before and probably committed the same cardinal sins. But this time all it does is make me think how pathetic the "modern" couple has become.
Maybe this is only me but a real relationship is not about two people trying to become a single person. I think it's about two different people coming together and staying together, celebrating the things that make them unique. The second you see yourself as a couple, and not a person in a couple, I think it's time to be worried.
Maybe I'm wrong what do you think? Does the royal "we" take precedence to the common "I" or should there be a peoples revolution to give people back their Independence, and their right to their own lives?
In my experiences relationships come in one of 2 categories. Some are like Fireworks, the are exciting, they explode in a fiery collection of vibrant colours, but when they are over it's like they never existed. But then you have some relationships that are like houses, there's a lot of lead up, a lot of planning, it's slow to build up, but you can build a whole life around it.
The problem with the latter type is that when you get too far in then suddenly you start to loose yourself to them. The 'I' becomes the royal 'we'. I have done this myself, I would talk about a movie and say "we loved that film" or "we thought that cinema was a dive". Doesn't sound awful does it, but it's usually only the start.
Don't get me wrong it isn't a bad thing to do things together. Hell, one of the fun parts of dating is doing lots of stuff together. The problem only really comes in when you start to itch for your own space again, and your own opinion. I have seen this happen to friends, and it's sad. I went to one recently snatched up mate and asked him about his plans for new years. He said he would check with his boyfriend, or to use his actual words "I make sure it is OK with him"...... I am sorry but what the FUCK is with that?!? If you want to do it, do it, if you don't, then don't. bring the boyfriend or don't, and so what if you fly solo? You don't need to be attached at the hip, and if
But then sometimes they are and that's even more disturbing.
You ever see a long term couple in a club? I saw one recently and they were wearing matching colour coordinated outfits *gag*, stayed to the side of the dance floor all night, and stared at all the singles as if they were superior? Normally it doesn't bug me, I have been in a relationship before and probably committed the same cardinal sins. But this time all it does is make me think how pathetic the "modern" couple has become.
Maybe this is only me but a real relationship is not about two people trying to become a single person. I think it's about two different people coming together and staying together, celebrating the things that make them unique. The second you see yourself as a couple, and not a person in a couple, I think it's time to be worried.
Maybe I'm wrong what do you think? Does the royal "we" take precedence to the common "I" or should there be a peoples revolution to give people back their Independence, and their right to their own lives?
Wednesday 1 December 2010
My Gay Adventure
OK if you have been an avid reader you will remember that my ex and I were due to go on holiday together as a couples retreat. We booked it all up back when things were all new and still exciting, and I didnt go after we decided to call it quits a few months ago. He went with his lesbian mate Kylie, and I stayed at home with mother..... drinking.... sad isnt it. Well to be honest it was nice to have time to myself, and time to focus on my house which has almost taken shape in the last few weeks. Also got my money back from the ex..... or i will do after some mild torture.... Bring me my Whip!!!
Now I am not what you would call a natural adventurer, in fact if I was in an action movie I woule be the poor bespectacled librarian type who dies first.But I missed the idea of having a bit of a mini-adventure... I always wanted to have one, just never found the time and the money for it.
Then something extraordinary happened.
One of my best mates called me up and said he was going on holiday, off to Gran Canaria, the gay capital of the world.... after San Francisco, but before Brighton. Now normally in such situations I say I will think about it and will subconciously hope the invite goes away since I never get the chance to do it. But..... this time I decided I need a change, so instead of shaking my head and saying no, I emphatically nodded and said a slightly scared and excited YES!!!! So before I had a chance to take a breath I was booked into a private bungalow in a gay resort.
Now right after this happened my brain started to go into overdrive. I realised all too quickly that I needed to loose 10,000 pounds, get a six pack, and possibly highlights if I was going to fit in on my first holiday in 5 years. I also realised I would need swimwear, new underwear, cologne and a secret stash of condoms..... well you never know ':-/ .
Truth is I am not really as neurotic as my lat paragraph would have you believe. I really am excited and cant wait to go. But I look at the pictures of the resort, and all I see are hot gym fit bodies and perfect hair and teeth. I'm not perfect, I'm not even close, but I want to look my best for my one week in paradise.
So here is the deal. I have 1 month untill I fly out, i have started eating healthier, and I am doing special ab tightening yoga (which is painful and looks embarrasing, but has resultS), and I am off out shopping in soho for some sex on a stick underwear that will hopefully make me *sizzle* in the hot climate.
Tell me the truth, is it wrong to be this excited over one week in January? Or will this be the adventure that movies and trashy airport novels are made of. I can promise you I will be emphatically blogging throughout my adventure, but bear with me in the lead up, I might be unbearable. ;)
Now I am not what you would call a natural adventurer, in fact if I was in an action movie I woule be the poor bespectacled librarian type who dies first.But I missed the idea of having a bit of a mini-adventure... I always wanted to have one, just never found the time and the money for it.
Then something extraordinary happened.
One of my best mates called me up and said he was going on holiday, off to Gran Canaria, the gay capital of the world.... after San Francisco, but before Brighton. Now normally in such situations I say I will think about it and will subconciously hope the invite goes away since I never get the chance to do it. But..... this time I decided I need a change, so instead of shaking my head and saying no, I emphatically nodded and said a slightly scared and excited YES!!!! So before I had a chance to take a breath I was booked into a private bungalow in a gay resort.
Now right after this happened my brain started to go into overdrive. I realised all too quickly that I needed to loose 10,000 pounds, get a six pack, and possibly highlights if I was going to fit in on my first holiday in 5 years. I also realised I would need swimwear, new underwear, cologne and a secret stash of condoms..... well you never know ':-/ .
Truth is I am not really as neurotic as my lat paragraph would have you believe. I really am excited and cant wait to go. But I look at the pictures of the resort, and all I see are hot gym fit bodies and perfect hair and teeth. I'm not perfect, I'm not even close, but I want to look my best for my one week in paradise.
So here is the deal. I have 1 month untill I fly out, i have started eating healthier, and I am doing special ab tightening yoga (which is painful and looks embarrasing, but has resultS), and I am off out shopping in soho for some sex on a stick underwear that will hopefully make me *sizzle* in the hot climate.
Tell me the truth, is it wrong to be this excited over one week in January? Or will this be the adventure that movies and trashy airport novels are made of. I can promise you I will be emphatically blogging throughout my adventure, but bear with me in the lead up, I might be unbearable. ;)
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