character saturday: speedy floof boi

So, today's DnD Character Colouring Book got a partial reveal at the start of the month, but I love the full version too much not to share that too.

This is Rain in the Night, my lack of impulse control Tabaxi monk, who does, in fact, gotta go fast.

As I think I said in the post about the new header, I can't take credit for the base head model. That came from someone on Reddit. I did redo the entire colour scheme though. And then there are also a bunch of newer, better items like the bracers and the ball (which is very much like the one I had envisaged him having based on his trinket) and the staff. Although, I just realised... I think he's supposed to also have a Ring of Protection, but being someone who fights with his fists, I tend to default to him wearing it on a chain around his neck.

I also really love the very real feeling pose I managed to make. Especially the staff.

The problem with these images is that far too often it just makes me want to a) play this specific character again (or for the first time), b) play a character of that race or c) play a character of that class. Right now that's manifesting as a Tabaxi thing. And more specifically right this second as a snow leopard Tabaxi.

But also a little bit that I want to bring my big himbo cat boi back into the world. I'll get over it.

Anyway...

So, just because it's an occasion... rather than it being something that was perfect in any way... completely accidentally, I broke my... "gentleman drought" from later 2019. 

And, yes, "accidentally" sounds like I tripped and fell and went "whoops, a penis", but it was more "idly scrolling the Gentlemen's Apps before bed and about to put the phone down and go to sleep" when somebody messaged me. With no photo. Which also normally would have made me roll over and go to sleep, but he sent photos when asked (+10 bonus points), he was cute (+10 bonus points) and he lives in my suburb about three streets away (+50 bonus points) and he didn't mess around (+100 bonus points).

Which is how I found myself waiting for a gentleman caller at 11:30 pm on a Saturday night for the first time in this house, certainly, and the first time in like five years (because I don't honestly even remember the actual last time at the old house... was it late 2019, was it early 2020, who knows).

And he left around 1 am. Also, didn't immediately block me on the Gentlemen's App by the time he got to to the footpath (+50 bonus points).

Is he possibly a down-low gay/bisexual, in some other kind of relationship, or just a plain old "mostly straight" MWHSWM? Fuck knows. And, honestly, mostly, I don't give a fuck (although, technically, -5 bonus points). I'm also not sure how much I care whether or not he hits me up again (which I guess is a -5 bonus points from my score). It was pleasant, it was unexpected, it happened.

Moving onwards to other things.

I made Chicken Cacciatore, mostly by having looked at a recipe and then... put things in a pot. But not on Sunday night. I wasn't sure I was going to have enough for a whole week's worth, so I made it on Monday night. Turns out I would have had more than enough.

It was good though.

Wednesday, the whole Optus network shat it's pants... but, thankfully that only affected my phone and not my internet. And I didn't even need to call anybody, but there's nothing like knowing that you CAN'T do a thing in order to make you want to DO that thing.

I also heard back from my doctor, which resulted in a phone call on Friday... basically everything is fine, the problem is basically the thing that I thought it was, the other problem I was having cleared up on it's own like it was supposed to, and, honestly, the main problem isn't enough of a problem for me to go any further with it right now.

Also... Fluffy is back from his Big Adventure. And I missed his stupid face. And told him same.

So, Thursday Night DnD was a happening thing. Well, we were down one person, and will be off for the next two weeks because we'll be down two people, but at least we came back together.

It was also one of those games that centres of Other People's Shit, but in a way that includes everyone else. And I got to have one of those..."I mean, if DM Fluffy doesn't go to HERE, then I'll be very disappointed"... [hard cut]... "he fucking went there... the bastard" moments. I loved it.

There was also a minor hiccup on Thursday night because I went to put the aircon on, and the panel opened, went through it's full range of movement and then closed again. And did that several times when I tried to turn it on. I didn't have time to fully solve it, so gave up, when to DnD and came home to look at it.

I was going to just send a maintenance request, but decided to look up the instruction book online. And, wouldn't you know, the instruction for fixing my particular issue was, firstly, clean the air filters (not really dirty, try again) and then, essentially, "flip the switch in the fuse box", which I did. And it started working.

Just in time for the temperature to jump up to 40C on Friday.

Thank goodness.

Friday Night DnD was also our return, obviously. It was one of those "nothing much happens" games, which is also fine, because we were getting our heads back into the game.

Anyway...

Today was basically just the supermarket and me resisting the urge to brain the entirely too disinterested to do a decent job, but also far to interested in reading the labels on the products we bought, idiot checkout operator with a can of beans.

But I made it out of there without doing that... and we didn't really bother doing anything else.

photo saturday: dem faces

Okay, so my brain is basically a big ball of fluff right now... so we'll see how well this works out...

As mentioned last week, this week was the first Post Soup week... which was fine, although actually making food at appropriate food times is hard. As in harder than just going to the fridge, getting out the soup and warming it up.

DnD was about how I expected... Monday's game was the last of the Tier 2 Rage of Demons season adventures I've been running sequentially, so next up are some adventures set in the same location, then an adventure I'm really looking forward to, but one that might stretch the roleplay abilities of some of my players.

Wednesday was a LOT of DnD... like we did a couple of hours finishing up the final combat from last week after we didn't actually die, then started the first couple of hours of a new adventure, then played a couple of hours of a random encounter... ending up at around six and a half hours. Exhausting, but exciting.

Then Thursday was the reduced Thursday crew (which also meant that I needed to be group taxi), which is generally quieter and pleasant because we manage to get a lot of stuff done, but I also end up doing a lot of the talking... which is fine, but sometimes I wonder if I'm doing too much talking. I mean I give other people space to do their own thing, but, I tend to be the one doing most of the NPC interactions. Granted our DM is pretty good at making sure various characters have their moments, and I know to step back in those instances, but still.

Then I went into the city again on Friday to get my dressing changed again. And it's even smaller than it was last week. Plus we (well, mostly me, but at the doctor/nurse's instigation) pulled the scab off, very carefully, but I actually got to have a good look at the current top of my finger since I sliced it off. And it looks good, considering.

Granted it also looks a little like the wound has been sealed over with a thin layer of matt plastic and the actual flesh hasn't grown back in yet... but it does look better than the giant black scab. Or when it was fresh and bleeding profusely.

Anyway...

Today was pretty average.

We started with the supermarket thing... and I had to remember to actually think of meals in my head that I could make... always the less fun part of not soup season.

Afterwards we looked through the movie listings and found a big fat nothing. I mean not nothing nothing, but very nearly almost. I don't know what the hell is going on just of late, but it's been a while since there was something worth bothering with.

So instead we went down to Marion, not with any great plan in mind, more just a general wander.

And wander we did. Mostly looking at a combination of Halloween and Christmas decorations, because while I don't give a toss about Halloween as a holiday, I do dig the aesthetic of spooky decorations.

I also managed to find a functional and somewhat decent red bow to go on my door at Christmas.

But that was really it. We stopped off and got some "lunch"... I say lunch but it was only really something to drink and something quite light to eat.

Oh, and before I forget, I did speak with The Boy not this week but the week before and we sorted things out. I'm mostly chalking drama up to me getting in my own way/head, but also partially him, just not the him I was expecting or had assumed was the issue. So things are okay... they're never going to be what they were again, that was basically a very specific time window and that time is gone, but yeah, at least it got sorted.

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photo saturday: ships of fools

So, this week was... what the fuck even was this week?

Okay, the main dot points...

Monday's game of DnD was the first time in eight weeks that one of my players hasn't shown up. I mean a bunch of the others have been there or not there, but the guy I started running for in the beginning. Hopefully he's back next week.

Wednesday we were back in the land of vampires and gothic horror, and the only thing we fought other than a swarm of rats was each other. Because my dwarf wizardess doesn't take no shit from no snooty elf noble.

Thursday we were still a player down for our hardcover game, so I ran instead. It wasn't a bad game, although I let the penultimate encounter get way out of hand and as such we didn't have a ton of time for the final encounter.

What else...

Oh, just because I want to record it for posterity, I got laid in the most spectacular fashion at 3am Wednesday morning. It wasn't quite The Best Sex of My Life, but it was close, and quite similar, and worth the wait since I've been talking to this guy about once a year since 2015. Yeah, I know, and it's never going to be much of anything because he's a straight boy who has sex with guys on the side, but it was damn good.

Let's see if it actually happens again... the other issue is that his schedule is almost the exact opposite of mine, so it's hard to connect... plus he's pretty deep on the down low.

He is sexy as fuck tho. And I want a repeat performance. Even if 3am is super inconvenient.

Anyway... unsurprisingly, that made me super mentally horny the whole week... which was great given that I started to come down with a cold or something until I dosed myself up with cold and flu medicine.

Moving on.

Otherwise the week was a week. No soup again, which led to at least a couple of very lackluster meals, but I'll live.

The shopping was, average. I'm planning on making some version of tuna mornay this week, so that'll be easy across the rest of the week.

Once the shopping was done, we faffed around for a bit, trying to work out what to do with the day, and ended up doing what I like to call the Cross Road Run... where we check out Big W, Target and if we're feeling daring, Kmart on Anzac Highway.

Not that we really needed or wanted a hell of a lot, but we did find a few things.

And then we made the mistake of stopping at Cibo for their "secret menu Italian hot chocolate"... I can tell you why it's on the secret menu... it's because it's actually thick custard that has been heated up. I know because I've done the exact same thing to thick chocolate custard and it tastes, feels and behaves exactly like that.

Once I readjusted my brain to the fact that is was warm chocolate custard, it was great... but as "Italian hot chocolate" is was a big fat fail.

And that was about it really...

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photo saturday: twosies

This week has been... complicated.

Sunday was... complicated. And yeah, there are going to be a lot of ellipses today.

My "is it a friend thing, is it a date, is it sex" thing from last week was great, but also confusing, but also great. I thought that we'd taken the gloves off before, but the gloves really came off this time. We started off with a fairly innocuous conversation about Assassin's Creed amongst other things, until I turned the conversation to whatever the hell was going on between the two of us.

Thing were said (and I told him the confusion I was having about the friend/date/sex thing, and he had had a similar thought), things were shared, a lot of very hard core flirting and a somewhat extreme game of footsie was going on. But we'd both agreed at the start of the afternoon that nothing sexual was going to happen.

And then it was time for him to go... so I gave him a hug like I would do anyone, and a peck on the cheek because that's also a thing I do... and then I slid my arms around his waist inside his coat just because I wanted to touch him, him and not the coat. And our heads were very, very close together, and he moved towards me and I moved towards him and we moved towards each other and while I suspect it was most likely me who closed the final gap, neither of us is certain, but there was a kiss.

A short, sweet, shy, tender, gentle, verging on chaste kiss. A kiss that instantly went on my list of the top 10 best kisses I've ever had. A kiss I've replayed in my mind far too many times between then and now. A kiss I wouldn't swap for anything.

But he pulled away first and said something like "that will have to be enough for now", and I agreed, and then he was out the door and gone.

Fortunately because we'd literally talked about anything and everything, I wanted him to know that that wasn't part of some grand plan, it was a moment of pure instinct, so he probably hadn't even made it to the bus stop before I sent him a message. And we talked it all through and we were good.

And then as a normal life interlude, I made Rogan Josh flavoured soup... which was lovely, but just something that I could not force myself to be especially excited about. I think I'm just over soup right now, so I'm taking a break from it this week.

Then Monday happened.

Monday was fine... there were some things rolling around in my head, but nothing majorly major.

Oh, except I went looking for attention and found what I thought was good attention, but turned out to be bad, bad, bad attention. And by attention, I mean sex.

Then I went off to play DnD. And by play, I mean run. It was a good game... I lost two of the newbies I'd picked up a couple of weeks back and instead picked up two other regulars, both of whom I like. So that was great, and for the second week in the row, I was able, within the framework of the adventure, to have the players attack one another (bless you charm effects).

After the game, I stuck around and got to talking with one of the guys that I'm friendly with... he's a good guy and I have a lot of time for him (and we've had a number of post-DnD chats this year). And I don't even remember what we were talking about, but before I knew it, the whole confusing mess from Sunday and before had spilled out of my mouth. Because sometimes you just need to get it out of your brain. Plus he's a good listener, and has a psych degree (I really, really need to ask him what the fuck it is he actually does... I thought I knew, but honestly I have no fucking clue), so he put a bunch of things in context for me.

There was one thing he said that I didn't think was especially important at the time, but pretty much went off like an unexploded grenade in my head later on. On the subject of men and sex, he said "do you ever say no"... a valid question (and seriously, he's one of the number of people that I am well and truly beyond the casual polite aspects of conversation, because that shit is boring) in the circumstances, and while the answer is definitely "yes", my brain reacted to it differently later.

Because it's not about "saying" no, I've said no, and meant it... it's about who is reaching out to who, and what the fuck I want, and other people playing games most of the time and the fact that if my walls are down most of the time because I have my hand extended, but their walls are clearly up, even though they're saying that they're reaching out.

Which is a confusing mess of a sentence, because I can't explain it probably, but I know it.

Tuesday is when my brain imploded on itself.

It was the situation with The Boy (I ran through a number of other possible names, but, you know what, that one came first and is actually the most appropriate) to start with... and the fact that I haven't worked in over a year... and I can't get out of my own way to start looking for something... and with all things I hate the "looking" process, I just want to jump straight from the nothing to the something, and just bypass the bit in the middle... because why the fuck not. And there are also changes on the horizon for DnD Adventurer's League, which they're not sharing effectively, and no matter what version of a new system they put in place, it's still going to be stupid and I'm still going to hate it. Because change, on the whole, sucks... and why are you fixing something that clearly is not in any way broken and has worked the same way since 1974.

And I didn't go anywhere and I didn't see anyone on Tuesday... so my brain had complete free reign to implode.

I was sad and angry and confused and... well to be honest, it was mostly mad at the start of the day, confused in the middle and sad at the end.

Mostly because I worked out that The Boy is at least 95% only interested in me because I'm available and interested (and that's okay, he doesn't know what the fuck he wants when it comes to men), and that sleeping with him at any point will probably be a bad idea, but certainly being his first would be a disaster. And that what I want more than anything is to be wanted.

I want to be wanted. It seems so self evident doesn't it. Who doesn't want that? And I probably already knew it and have dealt with other situations in a "you don't want me, let's move on" context, but not when it's somebody I already knew, somebody I already liked, somebody as beautiful as The Boy. And somebody who I want to want me. But he doesn't. Or at least he doesn't want me enough.

And because the universe has a sick sense of humour, it sent me people on Tuesday who definitely seemed to want me, but either wouldn't make the final step, or who I just don't really want back all that much. But because one of them likes to be submissive, I was able to be kind of an asshole and he thoroughly enjoyed it. It also made me message someone who keeps popping up on my radar, is super keen for about 15 minutes and then disappears for another 12 months... but we reconnected again recently for the allotted 15 minutes, and I really just wanted to know he wasn't going to reply this time too... but he did... it's still weird as fuck, but it's not nothing.

Have I mentioned my life is, generally speaking, weird as fuck right now?

The Boy actually messaged me Tuesday night, and for the first time I felt like I couldn't share what was going on in my head. So much so that even though we had a brief conversation where he assured me that he wasn't going anywhere, and I did likewise, I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I was going a little insane. And it took about fifteen minutes of picking my phone up, opening my messages and staring at the keyboard before I finally told him that my brain had fallen out of my head.

But I also knew I needed to have a real conversation with him and it wasn't a conversation I wanted to have over text messages.

So I was just a sad little panda all evening.

Wednesday was better. Partially because I had to go out of the house and play DnD, partly because I got to have a big tantrum about the AL changes to people who a) knew what I was talking about and b) agreed with me for the most part. But also because I ended up just confiding a bunch of stuff about the whole Boy situation to the girl who works in the place we play... and again, we ended up way too deep in TMI territory because it would seem that I honestly don't have a filter between brain and mouth.

But because I'd already had the one conversation on Monday, all the puzzle pieces had been unearthed and I was able to lay them all out in their correct order and make some new connections and really work out the "want to be wanted" stuff. As well as the idea that sleeping with him now, and possibly ever, would be something of a disaster.

I will put a single caveat on that... if he goes away, has his first, maybe second, maybe third, fourth and fifth, maybe even six and seventh experiences with guys and comes back to me and says "I absolutely want you because of these reasons and let me show you how much"... then maybe. But it's still probably a really bad idea. Because at a certain point he's going to go off and get involved with a woman, because that's definitely a thing that's going to happen. Because he's a Kinsey scale 1 at best... "predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual". Whereas I'm a 6.

Weirdly (or maybe not... if everything in your life is weird, does that mean your life is actually not weird at all?), after talking with Comic Shop Girl, I felt better... to be honest, having a little dummy spit and pretending to be a 6'2" tall bipedal cheetah asskicking monk for four hours AND talking to Comic Shop Girl afterwards all helped, but mostly getting thoughts out of my head in a specific order and arranging them appropriately made me feel better.

Thursday rolled around.

I caught up with The Boy (at a place that isn't my house, because knowing your limits and your triggers is important)... and we had another in a long line of possibly "a little too honest for it's own good" conversations. All the things I've burbled in this post, I burbled at him, and we agreed that we're going to attempt to roll things back to before his drunken confession, when things were fun and flirty and not weird. How well we do is anybody's guess. I think we'll be okay. We're both too honest for our own good. Although I'm probably more open than him just because of experience.

And then the Thursday folks and I had a pretty awesome game of DnD... much roleplay was had, my character ended up with both a really awesome talking sword and the beginnings of a halfling/dwarf interspecies relationship with one of the NPCs. Because that's not going to get weird (in the best possibly way) at a certain point... there has already been a very long, "almost phone sex, but not quite and completely in character so it was both less and more weird", text message conversation I had with the DM about what happened when we made camp for the night.

It's also weird that it's totally not weird to hold your DM's hand at a certain point when you're both roleplaying in character and he's having the NPC be very touchy-feely. God, that's so weird out of context... but in context it makes perfect fucking sense.

Anyway... Friday wasn't any less weird to be honest.

It started with a Friday haircut... which is weird because it's usually a Thursday.

Tink got the "I've sorted out my shit, but just let me unpack all of this just in case" version of the story, and I realised I felt okay about everything. Things don't feel particularly different between me and The Boy, time will tell however, but I feel like it was just a speedbump that rattled us a little but doesn't mean much in the overall journey.

Sorry, slight diversion there.

It wasn't a long visit, just the haircut and then the toner treatment (which always comes out a little purple for a day or two, but it lasts longer that way so I really don't care).

And then I came back and got on with my day. Also, because the universe is twisted, it sent me back the submissive guy, who ended up coming over. And everybody got what they needed.

Have I overshared enough yet? I think maybe yeah.

Today was remarkably free of oversharing moments.

We did the supermarket thing this morning as always... I bought actual things for actual meals during the week instead of just making one giant meal on Sunday night that is supposed to last the week. So no soup this week, I'm just losing interest in it, so I need to take some time off.

Afterwards we decided that since it's so damn cold currently (relatively speaking, no... but compared with even this time last year, it's freezing), indoors would be the better option, and the movies sounded like a plan.

So we went down to Marion, did the full Marion wander as always and then went to the movies. This was followed up by very late lunch at Nando's and then we headed back here before Ma headed home.

Again, not a thrilling day, but not bad as these things go.

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photo saturday: mens

The weather, as they say, is shithouse.

Don't get me wrong, I love winter and rain and whathaveyou... but this seems to be less rain as it is brief instances of the end of the world... and then it goes back to absolutely nothing.

And that would be fine, if a) my apartment wasn't all kinds of freezing and b) those heavy rain falls didn't happen at moments when I either need to leave the house or am already out of the house.

But I digress.

Let's see, I've reached that point already where I get bored with soup before the end of the week. I mean the last one wasn't bad... it just wasn't outstanding.

DnD wasn't bad this week... my DMing streak continues on Monday nights, and I had an "old friend" (ie someone I met when I started playing who then disappeared for a while) show up and play on my table, which I enjoyed.

Wednesday wasn't bad... I played a character I haven't played in a while, spent a bunch of in-game money, got knocked unconscious (because this character ALWAYS gets knocked unconscious), but we emerged mostly victorious.

Thursday was... a premium Thursday experience I have to say... just the core Thursday group, with our original DM for these characters, fucking up an adventure in all kinds of new and interesting ways. It's weird that this is the character that a) was supposed to have a completely different personality, which only occasionally asserts itself and b) because I know her as part of that group, I know her probably the best out of all of my characters.

And because all my characters are more fleshed out versions of certain parts of my personality, she's 50% caring about those people she considers to be "hers" and 25% let me explain why you're wrong and 25% you're an asshole, go fuck yourself. Makes for an interesting time.

Completely unrelatedly, the newest Assassin's Creed game got announced this week, and unsurprising to anyone who's been paying attention, it's set in Ancient Greece. I was thinking about doing a whole blog post about it, but also realised I don't actually care that much. I mean some of the stuff I like... the dialogue options, the potential for same sex romance with characters, the fact that you get to play as your choice of a male or female character... all excellent choices.

What I don't like is the fact that THEY'RE NOT FUCKING ASSASSINS. We clearly saw in the previous game that the Assassin Order (aka The Hidden Ones) began with the assassination of Caeser in 44 BCE, whereas the new game takes place in 431 BCE... so 387 BEFORE the Assassins were even a thing.

Way to paint yourself into a story corner in about 37 seconds Ubisoft.

I'll also say that while it probably makes some degree of sense making an Athenian/Spartan divide to the campaign, I've always had much more interest in Athens than Sparta... so while that's not a deal breaker, it is making me that little bit less interested.

This also means that we know that the next game will be something along the lines of Assassins Creed Empire or something similar and be set in Ancient Rome, possibly even earlier still making even less sense.

Yeah, because clearly I don't care that much.

Next item that is taking up all the space in my head...

This is going to be a little vague, mostly because parts of this aren't my story to tell, but I need to get some of the other parts out of my head, or at least recorded somewhere so that I can look back and see how incredibly dumb I either was or wasn't.

I have a friend who I've always found a little bit flirty, he seems to do it with everyone, but he identifies as straight. Then I found out he's perhaps not as straight as previously indicated. And we started getting a lot closer, or at least talking a lot more. And he was still incredibly flirty and we sailed past a lot of normal conversation lines with pure abandon, with neither of us being particularly bothered by that (late night text based conversations will do that for you)... and then this week, after he'd been drinking we had a REALLY honest conversation.

So he has his own other issues going on, but he's also thought about the two of us together. And I'll admit, while I had entertained the same idea on more than one occasion, I had the barest of inklings that he was feeling that way... just something about our conversations and, I'll be honest, the way he looks at me sometimes.

The problems are many and varied... primarily, he's barely curious and has no experience... this makes me both a perfect person to be his first and also the worst. Because I'm not going to push him beyond his boundaries on the first go, but if it all goes south, I lose a friend and potentially fuck up things for a wider friendship group.

I'm also not sure if he's interested because he's interested or because he likes me (as a friend), I'm available and we flirt like crazy. And I asked him that, because we're way past not having those conversations at this point) and he doesn't know the answer. What I don't know is how long he's been having this thoughts... is it just since we started heavy duty talking? Or since we met? I have no idea.

So I'm completely unsure if he's actually going to accept my invitation to come over and hang out and chat tomorrow... and if he does, I'm not sure whether it's just a hang out with a friend who needs an ear, or if this is some kind of date, or if this is about sex.

Or possibly all three.

The sex thing I'm going to have to put back in his court... he needs to know why he wants to have sex with me before we do anything, because otherwise it's just a recipe for disaster. The problem being that he's very pretty.

The other worry is that I'm massively getting ahead of myself with all of this overthinking.

So, yeah... my brain is a little full.

Moving on to today...

I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing as far as soup is concerned this week... I'm considering making some sort of adapted version of Beef Rogan Josh... but thinning it out somewhat into soup. I have no idea. We'll see how it comes together tomorrow... or possibly Monday morning if my Sunday gets weird.

Otherwise everything was pretty average for the supermarket portion of the day... although much like the rest of the day, we mostly managed to fit it in between rain squalls.

It was definitely a day to be inside however, so we decided on a movie... and to head out to the new Palace Nova cinema on Prospect Road... because it's new, and we haven't been before.

It's not bad. I mean they definitely go with the "lets put lots of smaller cinemas in a place" over "a couple of big grand cinemas", but honestly, that's often a better idea. The inside of the building is sadly nowhere near as grand as the outside... and there's a whole "you can only go up via escalators" thing that's frankly a little weird.

But it was a nice trip to the movies.

We tossed around the idea of a brief wander along Prospect Road, but then threw the idea out since the weather was still questionable. And instead we went to Perrymans Bakery in North Adelaide and brought it back to my place.

So not a terribly exciting day, but at least we stayed out of the weather.

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bulge

This is one of those TMI (Too Much Information) posts that I do from time to time... you have been warned.

I am officially worn the hell out. I'm not looking for any sympathy, it's all totally self inflicted and I had a good time doing it. And no, it's not what you're currently thinking.

I went out dancing last night. To a dance party, as the kids say. And danced for a little under six hours, non stop. In my underwear. With a group of large, predominately hairy men also in their underwear.

Now I haven't been out dancing in more than ten years. And never before in my life have I been dancing in my underwear.

After the initial moment of "what the fuck" wore off, it was liberating and less titillating overall, but it was easier to have a good perve on guys I thought were hot, especially those in jockstraps.

And weirdly because I chose something more... involved... than regular underwear I did feel a little like I was wearing a tuxedo to a barbecue for the first half hour or so. I also wish I'd decided on something else, just because as minimal as my garment was, I did end up working up quite a sweat.

Given that I danced pretty much continuously for six hours and sweated, there is an issue of inner thigh chaffing, which is going to be problematic and painful for the rest of the week.

Thank god I also have a chiro appointment tomorrow afternoon, because I'm pretty sure I've shaken everything loose and my shoulders are all kinds of big knots of muscle.

I did remember/realise a number of things during the evening though...

Firstly, thankfully there were less than a handful of guys I'd previously hooked up with in the room (four, possibly five, I can't actually remember now), which is always a danger.

Secondly the difference between an underwear dance party and a gay sauna is actually incredibly small, all things considered... and even less so given that fact that I know there was some hook-ups going on, although I didn't witness anything first hand.

Also, I remembered why dancing is an incredibly bad idea for me... it occupies my body but gives my mind free reign to over-think or obsess or fixate.

And because, despite what people may say or even think, all sections of the gay community (even, and sometimes especially, the sub-groups) are essentially like high schools (I'd say Mean Girls, but I've never actually seen the movie). Not quite so much that there are the "jocks" and "nerds" and "popular kids", more so that everyone makes snap judgements on who is on their level and who is beneath them.

For the purposes of this analogy, I'm Ally Sheedy's Alison from The Breakfast Club... I don't fit within the established groups and hierarchy, I'm the weird kid who doesn't speak and sits by themselves. Partly because I prefer that a lot of the time, but also because that's the role I get given.

Which, as a general rule, gets into my head and just makes me both mad and depressed. And it's not even that so much as, the more base and fundamental issue, that it would be nice to get hit on. And especially in that particular crowd.

Maybe it's the fact that I really never stopped dancing... maybe it's that even within the specialised niche of that crowd, I'm my own specialised niche... maybe it's the armour I generally clothe myself in for going out into the world, the "don't talk to me" wall I use on public transport and in shopping malls on those people who try to engage you in conversation as you walk through the mall.

Maybe it's a permutation of the line from the Buffy episode, Earshot...

Every single person down there is ignoring your pain because they're way too busy with their own. The beautiful ones, the popular ones, the guys that pick on you... everyone.

If you could hear what they're feeling - the confusion, the loneliness... It looks quiet down there. It's not. It's deafening.

Although maybe I'm over-reaching/thinking it.

There were a few things about last night that made it different from previous excursions.

I was one of the first people there... in fact when I walked into the room, I was literally the first person in there (there may have been one other, I'm not sure). A few people showed up gradually and I was checking out one particular guy as he walked from one side of the room to the other because in the dim lighting and without my glasses and given the colour of his skin/underwear, it honestly looked like he was naked.

And then he came and sat at the stupid wobbly little bar table with me. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes and then he asked me something inane, possibly about the fact that I didn't have a drink (which is a whole other conversation), and then we were pretty much off to the races, as they say, having an overly superficial but entertaining enough conversation. And it was slightly flirty with the added frisson of us both being mostly naked, but he'd mentioned his partner a couple of times, so I didn't push anything beyond harmless flirting.

Then he went to get another drink, I got bored with sitting around and went to dance and we drifted apart for a bit. While we'd be talking, he'd said some of his friends had told him about it and that he should introduce me to them when they got there. Which I took with a grain of salt, just because, you know, alcohol and whatever. But a little later I looked around and he was talking with his friends, and I knew a couple of them.

Because, you know, Adelaide.

He did come over and dance with me more than a few times (after initially saying he was more interested in the drinking than that dancing), and made general references to my awesomeness, which was sweet. But he did pike out relatively early.

So, yeah... it was good for the ego and I had a bit of a crush, but the main thing that amused was the friends thing.

Then later this skinny dude in, to be honest, the least interesting or seemingly appropriate underwear for an underwear dance party (it was pink, which is fine, but it didn't seem like it was his "best" or "getting lucky" underwear, it was a little too baggy and boxerbrief-y for that) started dancing not so much with me as at me.

And I was having one of those moments where the whole clique thing was getting to me and I was getting way to into my head about things... but he just managed to break through that and remind me that I was supposed to be having a good time. Sure I think he was, at the very least, three sheets to the wind, if not on additional mood altering substances, but he made me laugh.

Particularly because the best word I can think of to describe his dancing is "fierce"... he was a fierce drunk queen all over really... especially when he started putting his sunglasses on, at 2am, in the middle of a dark dance party (laser lighting notwithstanding).

Would I have gone there if offered the opportunity... oh fuck yes, in a hot minute... but other than one point where he hugged me and told me he loved me (and I'm pretty sure that was more in reference to my non-stop dancing than his desire to get into my... well, not pants, since I wasn't wearing any, but you know what I mean) but if he'd really been interested, he could definitely have danced in closer and I would have made a move. But, it didn't happen... which is fine, it was more important that he made me smile and knocked me out of my fugue than whether I got him out of his underwear.

Would I go again? Yeah, probably, although some serious thought about appropriate undergarments will have to be made between now and then. As well as reminding myself that more water is always the correct answer.

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leaving number sixty one

By the end of tomorrow, I won't live at number sixty one any more.

I still remember the very first time I set foot in this apartment block... I'd tagged along with Lownee when she came to inspect the place. Interestingly though, it wasn't this apartment, it was the apartment right in the corner of the block and it was so very dark and dingy I'm really not surprised that she didn't want it.

The agent later offered her this place and she took it. But coming from a big old share house she never quite settled into the apartment, I think it was just too small for her and made her a little bit stir crazy (she did end up visiting us a lot). So when Ludo decided that he and I really shouldn't live together any more (without consulting me on the matter first I might add), the plan was hatched that we'd swap... I would move in here and Lownee would move in with him.

That was 1996, give or take. Lownee and Ludo disappeared off into the ether circa 2002, but I'm still living here... until tomorrow at any rate.

Even though Lownee only lived here for about six months, I still have a couple of fond memories of hanging out with her here... although, to be honest, they're pretty much all from the same night. That was the night she spilled pasta sauce on the carpet (the stain is still there under my bookcases)... and then later that night we invented the modern Pantheon of deities (and blessed be to Rental Agreement, God of Housing for the boon he granted me with this new apartment... and I also offer up a little prayer to Schlepp, God of Moving for tomorrow's festivities).

I remember the day we swapped apartments too... not the date or even what time of year it was (although my brain says that it was summer, or possibly early autumn... I have a feeling it was between Christmas and my birthday) but I know that it was the first time I'd met Lownee's parents and her dad gave me a hand-crushing handshake... I remember we had to move her furniture outside the apartment first so we could get my stuff inside. I remember that once everything was all done, Ma went and got Chinese food while I took a shower (and the first shower in a new place after a day of moving is a little like having really good sex) and we watched something on my little tiny TV with it perched on the kitchen bench because the rest of the room was too full of boxes, bookcases and parts of my old modular lounge.

And there were only four pieces of furniture left that came with me on that move... and I'm not taking any of them with me, they'd all been relegated to the communal dumping area outside (and have since all been snapped up by people wandering by). In the seventeen years I've lived here, I've replaced everything else at least once.

As I look around the place, I can see the apartment both as it is right now (ie somehow both full of cardboard boxes yet also feeling quite empty) and how it was that first night, and almost every point in between (there's even photographic reference for 2006, 2008, 2010 and earlier this year).

I remember sitting on the old green rocking chair when Mouja the cat wandered into the apartment... I remember spending a lot of time talking to Raury and Sheba and J on that big ugly modular couch... or in the case of Sheba, deconstructing the couch somewhat so we could enjoy a floor picnic every Wednesday evening. I remember the first time I ever had Indian food was also with Sheba during said floor picnic.

And I remember when I got my first computer here, well Raury made it for me to be honest... and those first adventures on a quite young internet... then the upgrade to the computer I used to start this blog. And then bringing the laptop out of the bedroom with the arrival of Beast.

I also remember sitting at that second computer when BlueDragon was visiting and him coming to stand next to me wearing nothing but the cute little Bonds (I think) undies I'd bought him. Actually the two stronger memories from his week long visit are the image of him sitting on the floor packing on his last night while we had a conversation about a whole lot of shells we'd collected and the fact they wouldn't survive the trip in his luggage and then there's the memory of sitting up in bed with him resting against my chest and drawing me a floor plan of his house. Okay, there's also a couple of memories about the sex in there too.

Speaking of which, one thing that this apartment has seen probably more than it's fair share of is sexual encounters... there's been a lot of random strange through that door. There was The Best Sex of My Life, there was Marc, and Phoenix, and that incident with the spanking... and way back at the dawn of time there was the threesome with Ant and Whatshisname (seriously, why the hell can't I remember his name... I probably have it written in a notebook somewhere, but my whole life is in boxes at this point... update: found it, Dax)... the very physical session with Hot Sweaty Monkey Boy in which no words were spoken, but I just threw him bodily around the bed and everybody got to their happy place... right up to Alex who has become something of an irregular playmate of late and as of this afternoon also has the dubious honour of being the last person I'll have sex with in this house.

There have been guys that were memorable, guys that were forgettable, guys I wish I'd never invited over, guys I was happily surprised with when they arrived and guys I wish had come to visit more than they did. I'm not even going to attempt to do the maths... partly because I know that I wouldn't actually be able to come up with an accurate number but also because it'd be a reasonable sized number... but perhaps not as large because I'd only be counting guys who came here.

Anyway, I've had a lot of sex in these four walls over the past seventeen years, let's just leave it at that.

And of course I photographed a whole range of young gentlemen in various states of undress within these walls... on a strictly (amateur) professional basis of course.

I've lived here through at least three different landlords, and a vast panoply of neighbours. The original folks who were here when I moved in... the slightly goth gay gentleman with the great furniture... the old guy who went off his medication one weekend, spent far too long on my doorstep talking to Lownee when she was visiting, then broke someone else's window the following day and was hauled off later that week by the police and an ambulance... the girl from upstairs who occasionally had really, really noisy sex with her boyfriend in their bathroom and who I spent a couple of hours with once when a bird crashed into her window and she didn't know what to do with it... the short, dark haired girl from next door with the really gorgeous boyfriend who I nearly invited in after they'd had a massive row and she'd thrown him out of the apartment. Through to the Asian student with the guitar who lived upstairs... the annoying guy with the skateboard who used to ride up and down the courtyard... the hot wog boy with the motorcycle who gave me a beer while we chatted on our respective doorsteps... all the way through to the tide of inconsiderate and frustrating neighbours I've been putting up with for the past seven(ish) years.

I'm hopeful that Rental Agreement has seen fit to gift me with a building full of neighbours who are much easier to live with. I'm pretty sure there's at least one other gay in the building (if the rainbow flags on one of the cars in the carpark is to be believed) and there was a very cute boy filling a car with a bunch of stuff the day I was there for the inspection... so I'm hopeful that I'll have better or, at the very least, more attractive neighbours.

This place has also seen the birth of a whole bunch of routines in my life... from the fortnightly movie night and the Saturday shopping adventures with Ma, to my morning walk.

But you know what, even though both the current landlord and most importantly my neighbours have driven me crazy and the apartment is falling to pieces in a hundred little ways (and has been for a while since it was always an uphill battle to get the landlord to do anything), I'm going to miss this place. It was the first place I ever lived alone, it's seen me through most of my twenties and essentially all of my thirties (bar three months), it's seen the rise and fall of relationships with a number of very important people in my life and even to this day I still find myself walking in and saying "Hello Little House".

I'll miss the bright yellow countertops and the view of the sunsets and sunrises and the big wall of windows and the feeling of snugness and the ability to stickybeak on everyone as they come and go and the sense of contentment I get walking through the door... and even though I'm taking them with me, I'll miss the memories that every square inch of this place brings flooding back, even now as I sit here surrounded by cardboard and the detritus of my life.

So there's really only one thing left to say... Goodbye Little House and thanks for the memories.

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photo friday: brighton bodies

This has definitely been one of those days where I've been kinda tired all day long. Actually, come to think of it, I think this is one of those weeks where I've been tired a lot.

And it's not even like it's been a super-busy week... it's actually been kind of slow, but at the same time there are a couple of days this week where I'm not 100% sure what I did with my day, I just know that I went to work and did some stuff and then suddenly the days was over.

I'm definitely looking forward to the weekend, even though I know it's going to be a busier weekend than usual.

As of Tuesday it's a month until we go to Melbourne... and to be honest, other than the fact that Owl Girl tried to rub her trip to Sydney in a couple of weeks in my face (in a nice way, because I likewise tormented her during my Sydney trip) I really haven’t thought about it. Maybe that will change as it gets closer, but I dunno... while I enjoy Melbourne (mostly for the street art and the vinyl toys) I don't feel it down to my bones the way I feel Sydney.

For the past few weeks I've been working my way through Kevin Smith's Fat Man on Batman podcast series ... I got into it after Smith was a guest on the Nerdist podcast and I remembered how much I enjoyed listening to him talk on the original Jay and Silent Bob Get Old podcasts that I listed to at one point. And while I wouldn't say that I'm a massive Batman fan, the 1989 movie does hold a special place in my heart and I do enjoy hearing a lot of the backstory from Smith's various Batman guests.

It has also got me to look into some comic book and cartoon series history that I wasn't otherwise particularly aware of. Like anything that relies on the quality of an individual guest for its content, it's not always perfect... the first four episodes with guests Paul Dini (writer for the Batman Animated Series), a double Mark Hamill (yes, that Mark Hamill, voice of the Joker) and Tara Strong (voice of Batgirl plus about a billion other voices that any animation fan would know) are all excellent, as is the crossover episode where Smith tells the entire story of The Dark Knight Rises and Diedrich Bader was fantastic, and I enjoyed hearing all about where both Batman and Nightwing are at with Scott Snyder and Kyle Higgins respectively.

Weirdly, while I don't have a history with Batman beyond the movies, I do have a pretty extensive history with Robin/Nightwing from the Teen Titans comics which I used to read/collect.

But if you're a fan of either the Fat Man or the Batman it's worth a listen.

I always find it interesting when the Universe sends me the experiences I need rather than the ones that I'm expecting or the ones I think I need.

Without going into too much detail, I was supposed to meet up with a guy last night after work, but he cancelled on me (which, to be honest, I was kind of expecting) at the last minute... and I wasn't sure I wanted to bother rescheduling. But I did, for this evening... and as soon as we'd set it up I started to not feel so hot, but decided to keep the rendezvous anyway... and it just felt like it was going to be a bad idea... even after I got there and it all seemed a little weird.

But once we got down to "business" it actually turned into a really relaxing experience. Which sounds weird, but that's what it was... and when I left, other than being freezing cold, I felt like I'd... I don't know... insert your preferred weight lifted, spring unwound, corset unlaced metaphor here. But however you describe it, I walked out feeling a whole lot better.

It wasn't a perfect experience by any means, but like I said, it was definitely the experience I needed to round out the week.

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photo friday: beach boys

It's been another slightly manic week... more so in the first half of the week where it felt like everybody wanted a piece of me.

And more than a bit of it has been about social media... from presentations for a meeting next week, to giving advice, to attending a SocMed Adelaide session this afternoon. I did have one of those moments during the meeting where I was giving advice where you suddenly realise you actually know a whole lot of crap and most of it has come tumbling out of your mouth.

The SocMed session was kind of interesting... I'm not sure that I learned all that much stuff that I didn't already know, however some of it was mentioned in slightly new ways. And I also finally got to meet one of my longtime Twitter buddies in the flesh as well as seeing a couple of others in the room. So that was nice.

I've also spent a number of lunchtimes popping in and out of Myer, hoping against hope that they'd release Series 10 of the Lego minifigures... alas, no such luck... although they did move the toy department down to the ground floor yesterday, so at least I don't have to go as far to check.

I should have gotten laid tonight... I've been chatting with this guy on and off all week and right up until lunch time today we'd made a plan to get together tonight... then nothing...

It's one of those things that really annoys me... you want to flake out, sure, go right ahead. But just say something... anything. Or if you have no intention of following through, don't make the promise in the first place.

Anyway...

There's been a weird dripping noise coming from somewhere other than my apartment on and off for a few weeks... originally I thought it was just my stupid neighbours not turning taps off properly, but it turned into a constant thing at some point on Saturday. It definitely started to drive me all kinds of insane, and I had to run my evaporative cooler for a couple of nights just so I could get to sleep.

I put off calling the Land Agent, because really, what can they do about a neighbour's tap? But the longer it went on, the worse it was getting and the more insane I was getting, so in the end I really didn't have a choice. I was kind of expecting it to be a long drawn out thing, but I called the agent and they said they'd get onto it... then the plumber called me around lunchtime and by the time I got home there was silence.

Granted my brain keeps inventing dripping sounds, so I'm still a little paranoid, but it seems to be fixed.

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photo friday: light and dark

It's been a weird old week...

I come back from Sydney, have an extra day off, go back to work for a day, have the ANZAC Day public holiday off and then go back to work again for a day... and now it's the weekend.

I also managed to fit two sexual encounters into the 24 hours after we got back from Sydney that couldn't have been more different... one with a regular buddy that was quite animalistic and the other with a new guy that was very gentle, if a little strange. Having said that, they did share a certain aspect of role play that I seem to be much more comfortable with these days.

Other than that I've perhaps been suffering from a little bit of post-travel blues...

Alternatively it's the Coming Back To My Regular Life Blues... which probably amounts to about the same thing. Either way I'm hoping it doesn't last all that long. I also need to give myself a kick in the pants to get things organised around the house, and especially to get started on organising my bookshelves.

Today I think I spent most of the day talking to people... both work related and not, but every time I needed to speak with anybody it turned into a giant conversation... not that there was much else going on... but still... it was a weird old day.

It feels like there's a whole list of things that I have on my mental to-do list... or possibly there's just a whole raft of things that I need to do tomorrow that are all miles apart.

I watched The NeverEnding Story on teevee tonight... and I was getting all choked up within the first few minutes... I mean the effects are seriously dated, I wasn't half as affected by the death of Atreyu's horse than I remember being previously, but pretty much everything with Bastian killed me.

I also wouldn't be surprised if that movie screwed up a lot of kids in my generation... it's a very dark story, even if it has some positive things to say about imagination and giving power to the powerless... but it's darker than I remember.

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photo friday: silver surfers

Back when I used to photograph on film, I did quite a bit of work with black and white film. I always like working with it, it always seems to get right to the heart of the image, without colour drawing the eye.

And they turned out to be great for these images, since after correcting the contrast, the colours were really blown out... and black and white is always very forgiving to skin tones.

The images themselves were almost accidental.

After all my Fringing, I did very little for the first three days of this week... but on Thursday, Tristan Kerr was having a gallery show down at Glenelg. I missed his last show, and regretted it, so I was determined to go to this one.

That did, however, involve driving down to Glenelg at 5pm, which is always a trial.

But I made it down there on time and checked out both the artwork, and the cafe that was hosting it which I think is new (and very funky). I also chatted briefly with Tristan about his work, and bought one of the smaller pieces.

I'd taken my camera with me just on the off-chance there were photo opportunities... and when I wandered down to the jetty, there were the surfers...

It was incredibly windy on the jetty, so I was surprised that I wasn't the only one hanging out there. And I hung out for quite a while as the surfers struggled to find decent waves to ride.

Eventually the few waves that there were around started to die down and a couple of the surfers left, so I called it a day.

I then headed back up Jetty Road and went to Relish'd for dinner. And even though I had to wait a while for my Fancy Chick burger, it was completely worth the wait. Other than Burger Theory, Relish'd is pretty much the only burger place in the vast number that have popped up recently that gets it right.

While I was waiting I killed some time checking messages on my phone and discovered one from a young guy I'd messaged a few days ago... so I messaged him back that I was out and about and would message him when I got home.

I fully expected that there would be a bunch of back and forth messages when I got home, but he was exactly the same amount of direct that I usually am, and was on his way over about ten minutes after I walked in the door.

And we spent a very enjoyable hour or so rolling around on my bed.

It's weird... I can go for months without either caring about getting laid, or, in fact, actually being able to get laid... but then suddenly it's falling out of the sky into my lap... so to speak.

And if past history is anything to go on, the fact that I'd love to hook up with him again means it probably isn't going to happen. We'll see, but I'm not holding my breath.

About the only other interesting thing I did this week was seeing my chiro this afternoon... and that slightly odd moment when you use the phrase "when I was having sex last night" while talking to your chiro... I mean it was relevant, about my knee, but yeah, still weird.

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