Wednesday, August 30, 2006

I had a date last night, with lovely young guy through It almost never happened, as five minutes before he was meant to leave to meet me, he accidently stabbed himself with a kitchen knife. I started wondering if there's a distinct possibility I'm meant to be worshipping some Polynesian Tikki God of 'Dating' somewhere or perhaps I'd wronged a someone, somewhere, at some point in a former life maybe. Would a guy resort to stabbing themselves in order to get out of a date with me? Guys have made weaker excuses before, I thought.

Luckily, he turned up; bandaged and apologetic. We joked about it and told him my last date had slit his throat. I forgave him, mostly as he was really cute and incredibly funny in a northern 'Wai Yup' sort of way. Turned out, I was his first ever date with a guy, having only come out three months ago. Poor guy found it all a bit overwhelming I think. Told him, I'd been in his shoes before and not to be so hard on himself and he semed to enjoy our night out. He has a friend in me if he wants it at least.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

She lives in a House...

My sister has a new house. A very nice house. Smack bang in the middle of Brighton. Next to everything. It has a patio garden. Wooden floorboards. And a white gate to enter it.

I covet this. Badly.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Everybody needs good neighbours...

I promised myself I wouldn't be one of those bloggers that post up annoying photos of themselves partying all the time with their friends but this one has relevance. If you live in London, or any major city for that matter, but especialy in uptight Britain - where a smile on the Underground to a complete stranger can signify a desire to kill, terrorise, stalk or at least invade someone's personally space quite rudely - you will know that NO ONE speaks to their neighbours. Well I do. I met mine at a party in the West End of all places. After talking about where we lived, we freaked out at discovering we actually are 'nextdoor neighbours'. Since then Sarah, Jerome and Lindsey have now been my local friends as well as neighbours. Yes, you may coo with delight now. We basically get quite drunk together to cut a long story short. In another 'Elton John - Circle of Life' tale, Lindsey's boyfriend Adj is in a band called Kubb, who I met last year at a television recording of Later with Jools Holland. Yes, a small world indeed. Yet these strange coincidences make up up most of my life on a daily basis. I do not lie, ask any of my friends. I obviously know far too many people. Oh rah! How pretentious does that make me now?

Moving swiftly on.

Friday, August 25, 2006

In Olden Days...

Well, I auditioned for an Amateur Dramatics Society production of Anything Goes on Tuesday. Not sure if they felt sorry for me or if they just desperately need more boys, but they've offered me a part in the Chorus. Based on the audition, I am amazed by this. I believe 'rusty' was the word that sprang to mind as I tried to mimmick the dance routine and mumble my way through a score I was as vaguely familiar with. I got frowns from individuals who obviously thought I wasn't taking it very seriously. Remarks like "I've been doing this for 13 years now, a marvellous way to pass time" and "I've only done the Grosvenor Light Operatic Society, this sounded like something easier and less demanding" were probably designed to put me in my place. But hey, like that was going to discourage me in making a complete tit out of myself. I am truly grateful of 'Colonel Henge' for letting me know about this last minute and I'm making it up to him later this week by getting him a place running for Whizz-Kidz for next year's London Marathon, who are a client of mine.

First dance rehearsal is apparently next Weds. "How spiffing!" as Lord Evelyn would say.

Thursday, August 24, 2006


I heard the best line at work today from my client, when he was describing how ugly his old assistant was:

"About as attractive as an old 'Chupa Chup' lolly found underneath a greasy oven."

Will go into my mental rollerdex of phrases to use on someone one day.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

A Soldier Polishing His Cannon...

Back in June for the Queen's Official Birthday, the BBC News website released a series of photos of the Horsemen at Buckingham Palace preparing for the parade. I expected lots of gold trimmings and shots of brushing horse hair but was pleasantly surprised when this was the main photo. If there's ever an advertisement to retain the monarchy to keep people like him in service, then I'm all for HRH. I think my point of my post today was to say, I was born on the week of her Silver Jubilee and apparently she gave my parents a year's supply of nappies. I have no idea if that story is true but if it isn't, you can just look at the man polishing his cannon again.

Monday, August 21, 2006

My 'Wicked' side in full view...

Those who know me, know I don't do 'gay' very well, admittedly I can have my moments but most of the time I lead a pretty 'straight' life. And I'm fine with that and will probably continue to do so for the rest of my life. As a rebel of conformity, I hate stereotypes and growing up as a short-arse, mixed-race, speccy-foured-eyed homo has probably helped that. Defining my life through my sexuality makes about as much sense to me as defining it by my hair colour or choice in trainers (Adidas by the way). It has it's throwbacks, I've never fitted into the 'gay scene' that well and have been criticised by some of more 'intolerant' gay men out there (of which there are many) and have always felt like a beloved adopted child to my straight friends. The dating process and whole meeting guys thing has suffered a bit as a result, but I am addressing this and over the past few years grown in confidence knowing that I don't need to compromise my attitude and the things that make me feel comfortable in life to gain respect on both sides of the fence.

Every now and then though, I do get a bit gay and musicals are a bit of a thing for me. Ever since I was in a few productions at school in Germany, having to put on professional productions that would give the West End a run for it's money, I have gained a true love for it. Mostly, because it reminds me of when I was happiest as a teenager, rehearsing with friends, having such a laugh, and having lots of praise and attention at doing something I was really good at. So maybe it's more of a nostaglic thing than a 'homo' quirk. Whatever it is, and however people's attitude to my little musical crush is, I love them and I don't care. I love singing, and find myself singing certain 'show tunes' that reflect the many life situations all the time. One of the songs from Wicked! (the record-breaking, award-winning show from Broadway opening over here this month) I find myself singing a lot of these days, tragic it maybe, is 'I'm Not That Girl', a reflection on how many of my dates never work out with the guys I really like. (you may sigh and go 'Awwwhhh' if you want). Still, I am incredibly excited about seeing it for the first time after having bought the score last year,and know all the lyrics already, friends may laugh, a few joined in with my excitement too, via my influence and are joining me on the two performances I am going to (oh yes my friend you heard correctly, two performances!) Opening Night here I come. Okay it's in a few weeks time but I had to write something today, it's been so dull!

Sunday, August 20, 2006


And this is why I live in London. Nice for nature to remind you sometimes, when you've had a bad day.

Evening All...

One of those moments that makes you sigh with happiness. Taken in the park opposite my flat.

What would Jane say...

I was wondering if Blogs had been around years ago, what great writers like Jane Austen would say on their Blogs. Their efforts would have been far more spectacular and full of wonderful prose than ours. I decided to write my current situation, as if Austen herself was sitting at my laptop, namely wondering where her quill went first, but composing my own life entanglements using her inevitable style. Enjoy!

Dearest Marie-Anne,

Alas, to find oneself without a prospective advancement in earnings and career, is a vexation indeed. Fear not, if the fates allow, a position will no doubt arise at my final moment of disparagement. We can only live in hope as ladies, we have little knowledge of the complexities that take up a working gentleman's day and must be content with hours of reading, needle work and practicing piano forté. I remain enthused, though trying I know, remain confident in my faith that my decisions are made in good sted.

On to Meryton, where I have news of an abundant nature concerning certain members of the cavalry (online men of a homosexual nature) that have past into town and have caught my eye. After meeting a Mr Bartholemew last week at the Society of Friends drinking establishment, in the depths of Soho. He is of three and twenty years, a musician at the Royal Albert Hall none the less and comes from a wealthy family. He is probably worth at least ten thousand pounds a year, as he has a residence in South Kensington and Clapham. At first his demeanor and enthusiastic nature was charming and elicited many ruminations of how my beauty was 'cute' and that I was a 'sexy fella'. But after several conversations of a mobile variety, the situation has since changed dramatically and I am led to believe he is quite keen or 'really into me' as they say in the modern quarters. His communications have been frequent and the attention much cherished after my long spell of singledom, although the messages with this 'Xxxxxx' signed along each message is rather worrying. An overuse of consonants to the extreme. As you can imagine, I have been all of a bother regarding this situation, especially as he is quite handsome, a spectacular kisser and has also implied via the means of a visual text, the girth of his groin. This is quite spectacular to behold and some I believe have complimented on its beauty and size. Encouragement to seek a mere carnal nature from our next meeting is a temptation to say the least and 'hard' to resist. He is a true fellow and I am enjoying his company for now.

On to Mr Masonry, a resident of East Dulwich and a lawyer at that. A short, well built man of two and thirty years. He is of a fine face, although a little reserved in his speech and keeps conversation to the essential matters in hand. This has not greatly inspired me and over the past weeks he has postponed our engagement no less than three times. On one occasion, canceling our meeting to accept a delivery of chairs from John Lewis, Purveyors of Fine Furniture. We have meet upon two occasions and they have been perfectly charming, enjoying my wit and flirtations, yet has remained obscure in his decisions about me I feel. His enthusiasm to watch the moving picture 'Brokeback Mountain' every week, in order to reminisce his previous partner, leads me to believe, he may not be over his last love.

As always my dearest Marie-Anne, I have saved the best story till last. For over a month, I had been conversing most eloquently with a young gentlemen called Colonel Henge, he works in Housing. He is such a fine figure of a man and is of six and twenty years of age and resides in Clapham after just purchasing a small maisonette. He stands five feet and ten inches tall and carries full head of blonde hair. His pictures are very becoming and he had responded well to mine. When I first laid eyes on his profile, I mused that he was far too handsome to even consider responding to a message from my mere self. But he expressed much humour, a passion for penguins, a love of literature and film including 'The Muppets Christmas Carol' and 'Sense & Sensibility' (which I believe is based on a family situation near here). He had received a dictionary and thesaurus for his birthday, uncanny as I have received such birthday gifts. Our familiar passions and items in common have made me believe he is quite the genuine sort indeed. We spent much correspondence over the last few weeks and this has elicited a most charming rapport, he is both polite and full of questions about myself as well as answering my own queries about his credentials. This natural conversation had been most unexpected and was most assuring pertaining it's future possibilities. So much so, I suggested an official dinner engagement on the Friday, to which he responded with much enthusiasm and vigor. Yet alas, the ease of this situation was brought to an abrupt halt, after Colonel Henge had in fact met another gentleman since the agreement of dinner arrangement and had decided to pursue this assignation and not mine. I was bought this news of his decision by carriageless letter only two days prior to the soiree and as you can imagine, was most disappointed by the news. So much so, I may have over reacted somewhat and burned all his correspondence in a fit of melancholy. I was taken aback by receiving further correspondence from Colonel Henge, informing me despite the change in situation, he found me a fine fellow indeed, impressed by my love of musicals and honest nature and worthy of friendship at least. For this I am glad.

My daily chores have become tiresome and I have decided to seek fortunes in another place, namely the country of Australia by this time next year after much deliberation about my future and goals. I have been making long, hard decisions about what is important in my life and what I would like to achieve. See, my dear Marie-Anne, I too have face much drama these last few months. Alas, I must remain positive and thankful of the achievements I do possess and the love of friends like you around me.

To when we dine at Pemberly again. I must go forth and find my Darcy.


x Emily x

It begins Oh Buddha of mine...

So I have a Blog. How cutting edge of me.

How scary in fact. The idea of any stranger reading my daily thoughts puts me off, if truth be told. Lawsuits of people being fired from their jobs because they moaned about their unruly boss or having posed in a raunchy photograph wearing their company's uniform springs to mind. (I believe it was an air stewardess or something, how man-made fibre in Easyjet colours can be made too look sexy is beyond me.)

I shall therefore be sensible. Use pseudonyms to protect those who I may embarrass, which I will no doubt reveal in a fit of anger if they wind me up something chronic. It will be about me, naturally. A way of keeping my writing skills up to date and in practice. The long term goals of writing a book have been so poorly executed and I have no one else to blame apart from myself. So many ideas, so little time, so little drive after working all day. So many excuses not to actually write. So lame. So pathetic. And therefore, so not going to have a novel under my belt by the age of 30. This will be like stretching the muscles before a work out, I hope.

I have also been asked to write about my life and tales of dating boys, having caused much amusement to many friends over the years. Not sure if that is tragic or a reason to celebrate how varied and ridiculous my life gets. I have old tales that are out of date by now, but will no doubt reminisce on these,when the opportunity arises.

So, I write this. Will it last? Will it be a distraction? Will it bore people livid? Who knows, only time will tell.

I've noticed I've posed a lot of questions in my first blog post. I'm not normally like that.

Well, maybe I am.

The Laughing Buddha Looks On...

The Buddha himself. Sage. Sympathiser. Supporter. Onlooker, champion and general piss taker of my humble life. How his laugh mocks and comforts me so.