Jesus Christ on a bicycle it’s been an eventful week.
So I went back to Dublin on Tuesday evening, and had a fight with the parents. It had been too long. I shrugged it off as a welcome home! Then I went to meet sexy footballer straight boy thing. And he told me that he’d '”never felt this was about another bloke” which simultaneously killed my erection slightly and make me think “oh fuck. shit mother of fucks. what the fuck do I do”. So I kept my cool, and said “it’s not love, it’s lust. believe me, you’re not in love with me.”.
How did he prove his love for me?
By Swallowing. Classy stuff, right?
He’s flicking through wedding magazines beside me right now, trying to pick a table layout for the reception. Who said love was easy?
And on to the my week. Right, so that was Tuesday. Wednesday was spent studying for my repeats, getting help off Jack, and planning the fill my parents house with booze and good friends without them knowing. It went off a smashing success. Much vodka, cider and Chinese food was consumed, and the house smelt like hormones all the next day. Wonderful.
Then Thursday, more studying, and out to meet the not boyfriend. Late, as per usual, we got the tram to his new house. Pokey as fuck, small, dingy, not a happy place. Anyway, he proceeded to offer me cake. I ate said cake and seemingly lost 9 hours of my life. I think there might have been something funny in it. It was so funny, and himself and I spend like loads of time together. He kissed me in front of his friends, which I think is a kind of important step? I could be wrong, I don’t really know. Anyway, I woke up at midday Friday, went home and finished a project!
Then Friday night, I knew I was getting up early to go back north on Saturday, but I went anyway, and like, met some people there, had a good night, and got home at a reasonable hour. The Saturday was eventless, apart from a talk with mammy, and I just explained what’s going on with me, and she said she didn’t know about all the things I was dealing with and she’d try be more supportive!
Oh, I tried to MSN Jack, but I just keep getting an error message, so I’ll blog it instead. I mentioned to my mother that a straight guy I met in February, whose 26 , and is recently widowed just so happens to be coming to Ireland. She offered him the house I’m in right now, the north house. I mentioned that he was going west, and she was very enthusiastic about me going with him, and showing him around.
Then I mentioned that I’d need a helmet for the motorbike. And she hit the roof. “It’s a step lower than drugs. If you get on the bike, you can find a different place to live”. I nearly laughed at the drugs thing, by the way.
So like, I don’t know. She’s spooked about a man on a bike, who has just learnt to drive it, on the left hand side of the road, on twisty little country roads, compared to the great roads of the European Mainland. So it’ll have to be hammered out. But everything is negotiable. And I have money, a passport and a brain. So I can disappear if needs.
Remind me to blog about the unionist in work that hates me. Later though, this post is too long already!
5 comments:
Okay, here I go.
1) I thought you liked the sexy footballer. I remember you wanting him, but realising that he would never leave his girlfriend and come out. Why is it that you are not interested in him as anything but a fuck buddy. Why not go out with him for a change, get to know him. Or is the 'not boyfriend' that much more interesting? I hope you are careful with his feelings. Denying them will certainly not help.
2) Glad I could help with that. The other stuff your test is about is part of what I taught at university level, so I will be happy to help you with that as well.
3) Where were your parents when you had these friends over? Didn't they smell the hormones?
4) It sounds a bit as if he was trying to get you more stoned than what's good for you. I'm not sure I like that. Kissing you in front of his friends doesn't mean much, I think, if he was also stoned. If he wasn't, then whether is means something all depends on the atmosphere, the friends, and his own usual behaviour. It might well be an important step...
5) Has your relationship with your parents improved now that you live in the North part-time?
6) I think the talk with your mom might be the most important fact in this post. What DID you tell her? What are you dealing with that you can tell your mother. I hope it was a conversation between two adults. I'm glad she will be more supportive. Support her in that attempt.
7) I've heard that Jack has email, phone, SMS, MSN, Skype, and a home address, but indeed he also reads your blog. In fact, I read this post ten minutes after I woke up. Later at the bus stop I turned my phone on to find the text message "Just posted :)" that you sent when had just gone to bed.
8) You parents will certainly want to meet me, and then what. They will notice I'm not 26, and they might notice I'm gay. Beside the fact that I'm terrible liar, I hate doing it. If I respect your parents I will feel horrible lying to them. On the other hand, I would like to meet them. I know a way out: a nice compromise. Let's talk about that off-line.
9) This weekend I've practised riding with a passenger. It was no problem. About the twisty little roads: if you don't speed they're not a problem.
10) Just to remind you: blog about the unionist that hates you.
right. jesus christ on a broomstick, you know how to hammer out a comment!
One - I do like sex footballer, it's just that like, it went from no commitment to full intensity, it's a bit of a huge leap. and I'm focusing on NotBoyfriend kind of.
Two - Thank you, I have yet to mail you what I wrote, and see what you think. I'll do it when I'm back in Double-Inn.
Three - They were in, but they can't throw all my mates out. They text me when they were at the door, and I let them in. If they rang the bell, parent would have answered and told them to go away. I could smell the hormones the next day! we stink of them!
Four - Well, there was loads of us there, and he hardly put the cake in my mouth. I ate a fair bit and felt grand, so I ate a fair bit more. And then it ALL hit me at once. So I sort of did it to myself. He was as stoned as me, but I'm trying to look at this in a positive light...please...
Five - It has and it hasn't. We have one fight when I go home for four days, and when I'm up here, it's happy families. And their glad to see me about 90% of the time!
Six - It dealt with her being afraid of me getting AIDs, how shitty coming out was, college, my dislike of the course, work, my dad, my brothers alcoholism, death and inheritance.
Seven - Well it was Like the single digit AM's when I posted, and you weren't on Skype, MSN, your home address is no good to me in northern Ireland, and a phone call wouldn't have been appreiated, so a text did the job. I couldn't fit 3 paragraphs into a post. Remember I'm texting from the UK to Ireland and onto Mainland Europe. Costly costly! trying to keep it in one message like.
Eight - You could be 26. Easily. You're not effeminate. They don't know your nature and your conversational english doesn't have to be good. So you don't say much :)
Nine - Try telling my mother that. You know how she feels about motorcycles! Their like slightly less than drugs :)
Ten - haha. I might do it now....
Wait, there are OTHER ways to prove your love? That's news to me.
Don't underestimate swallowing - I've declared my love in said way many times before!
Being a widower might invite too much conversation. "So, how long has your wife been dead for? How did she die? Was she pretty?" Maybe you could say Jack is asexual, or born without a penis. Does your Mom know you're a top? And Jack's bulge. Nevermind.
I like the no habla Engles plan.
Post a Comment