35!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, here I am.  I’m 35 and so what if I haven’t ticked all the boxes I ’should’ have by now in terms of life, love and all else besides.  I’ve been thinking about myself, my life, the way I dress and a load of different things and when I take out what others think and feel, I’m pretty okay with myself and how life’s panning out.

An old man in a new fleece!

Mum bought me a fleece jacket for my birthday from a department store in town yesterday and I love it.  It’s so cosy and warm it’s unreal.  So what if what I wear can hardly be termed haute couture, who wants to buy into all that superficial shit anyway?  I’m me and I like who I am, thank you very much.  35 isn’t so bad when all is said and done …. yes it is, it’s bloody awful!

Almost but not quite….

It’s now after midnight and it’s the 11th December 2008.  I’m ONE day away from being 35!

35!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Who’d have thought I’d have got here?????  Alright, as compared to being 90 it’s nothing but I’m no longer young young and I hate that.

When I hit 30 (which was horrid) I was saying goodbye to my Twenties but tomorrow I’ll be saying hello to my Forties because that’s the next landmark number.

I don’t like this at all.

By now, I should be settled down with a significant other, in full-time work with a mortgage, a car and perhaps a pet or two between us.  I don’t have any of that.

What I do have is a lack of hair on my head, the remainder of which is rapidly going grey; a shit dress-sense; an encroaching waistline and an interview next week with a fast food company.  Things haven’t exactly panned out as I thought they would.

I’m over-the-hill!

Dem changes….

Howdy all.  I’ve decided to implement some changes.  I’ve opted for the Christmas theme because I’ve always wanted to use something seasonal on a blog but have thus far resisted and now you can see why lol

I received a message yesterday from someone whose music has meant a great deal to me over the years.  I’ve been listening to his music a lot lately and have found myself on more than one occasion, wondering where he is now and what he’s up to because he just did the one solo album and left the music scene altogether.

Anyhow, I did a search for him on a social networking site and there he was.  I sent him a message basically thanking him for his music and what it meant to me and lo and behold, he replied.  I’d been anxious after sending it but I needn’t have worried because when the reply came it was really friendly.  He thanked me for what I’d said and wished me the very best.  Can’t ask for more than that can you?

Halfway through…

Growing up, I’d often hear the term “3 score years and ten” bandied about to denote the span of time us humans get here on Earth. It’s odd because we know that most people live far longer but it’s Biblical so unreasonably it’s held on in people’s psyches for far longer than is healthy.

As a small boy, I’d often look at people who probably weren’t much older than 20 years of age but who seemed like ageing giants to me. 20 seemed a long way away and 40 was positively ancient. In a week’s time I’ll be 35 and halfway through going by the archaic prior reference.

I actually feel old. I have some deep lines appearing around my eyes, my skin has taken on a rougher texture, I’m currently sporting a full beard and my nose hair has taken on a life of its own. My right knee aches and several joints click so much it’s like my body’s housing a miniature maracas band!

By the time I’ve got a boyfriend and I’m out there getting ‘a bit of bummage’ as they say I’ll have more hair on my back than on my bloody head and that’s enough to quench even the most fervent ardour isn’t it?  It’s all so depressing. Still, things could be worse, I could be 40. Oh joy, that’s the next milestone isn’t it?

I’m back!!!!!

Right, well I’m back and what’s happened in my absence but the dashboard here at WordPress has gone all space age.  I must confess to loving it but then after a week of hermit-like living, everything appears exciting in comparison.

I’ve also discovered the answer to one of life’s little quandaries and that’s here.  When I first got my Sony media player, I couldn’t get on with the headphones at all so had to buy some others but they gave up the ghost this week so after trying to use a cheaper set (which are shite) I’ve had to go back to the original set and even though I can see sense in the arrangement, they feel bloody awkward on.  What was wrong with how they were originally is what I want to know?  I never had any difficulties with them.  Did anyone here?

Last weekend, I travelled up to Liverpool to Michael Causer’s memorial service held at the Anglican Cathedral.  It was very moving and the language used was inclusive, there was no talk of sin and people of other faiths and none could take something from it.  Looking across at the photograph of Michael, I couldn’t believe that this young man was no longer with us.

I happened upon a jokey message left by Michael at Facebook and I felt an incredible sadness.  Michael had come out, a battle in and of itself and wound up being murdered by homophobic thugs!  I hope these cowards (because that’s what they are) get a sentence which reflects the severity of this brutal crime.

I met Michael’s family and a more friendly and accepting bunch I’d be hard pushed to find.  They had no problems with Michael’s sexuality at all.  Had he lived, he would have grown in strength and confidence as an out gay man.  They are lovely people.  They even allowed me to stay over due to there being no one at the hostel I’d booked online and that says a LOT about them … they were fortunate to have Michael if only for a short while, he was fortunate to have them xxx

I must mention Vikki whom I met at the cathedral.  She was a male-to-female transsexual.  She had been badly beaten up in a similarly motivated attack, ie one of hate, fear and ignorance.  She stood up during the service and said a few words inspired by Michael.  Her birth name had been Michael so she was in effect saying goodbye to two Michael’s that day!

I’m glad Ulla got her rainbow pride bag.  Woohoo!!!!!!!!!!!  You said you’d squuuuueeeeeee mate and indeed you did.  That’s one of Ulla’s words and I love it.  Ulla, I’m honoured to know you and to be able to call you a friend.

I’m glad to be back.  I can get round to see you all now….

Feeling like shit…

Hi y’all.  I’ve been sidelined with an horrendous bout of the flu so that’s why I haven’t posted anything nor been round to anyone’s blogs but I’ll be back … with a vengeance.  I hope you’re all well and happy xxxx

Age or apathy?

I used to be really into what I wore. Mind you, back then I also had hair which not only didn’t show large parts of my scalp but was of a uniform texture and colour. Salt and pepper I believe the term is for what I have left of my hair in terms of shade, a description more apt for condiments I feel.

I wore clothes then which not only felt but looked good. I was adventurous, I took risks. Now I seem to be walking about in the exact same things day in and day out. Okay, so I never wear the same clothes twice in terms of t-shirts, undies and socks but it’s all starting to blend into nothingness. I wear brown suede Kickers ankle boots, blue jeans, a sweater and a fleece.

I’ve also taken to wearing scarves.  What is that all about?  Even in the late Summer, under my trusty brown crumpled Marks & Spencer corduroy jacket (which I’m inordinately proud of) was a stripey woollen scarf. I wasn’t that cold so why was I doing it? What I seem to be aiming for is becoming a kind of walking bed, all I need is a switch to flick giving me all over body heat and I’m sorted.

As an out gay man, I feel I should be strutting about in cashmere sweaters, Versace jeans, expensive-looking polished leather boots which it has to be said, would look good with the one item I possess which has some fashion merit, my Red or Dead designer specs.  I should be touching my hair up with the odd tint here and there courtesy of rip-off salons like Toni & Guy, not looking like I’m about to go on a sponsored walk!  Still, I’m yet to look like Bruce Vilanch so there is some hope at least.

Is all of this a sign of getting older or is it more a sign of apathy surrounding my physical appearance borne out of looking in the mirror and espying more lines and creases on my face plus of course the encroaching inches around my waistline? I really should buck my ideas up before it’s too late but then maybe I really can’t be bothered to.

The rainbow’s bluer today…

Yesterday, I did something which surprised me.  I denied my sexuality to someone who really doesn’t have a problem with it out of a fear of them perhaps viewing me differently.

I was chatting away with them and the subject of gay people came up.  My friend said “I’m not being funny here Jon but you mention gays a lot.  Are you gay?”  He was smiling when he said it.  I suddenly felt totally ashamed and guilty.  I said “no but I’d like to be” and he laughed.  “I’ll have to write that down, that’s a great response” he replied.

I don’t know why I did it.

Well, I do know why I did it because it would change the dynamic between us on some levels and because he has spoken of people not coming out until later in life and how he can’t comprehend it at all because “we all know what we are don’t we Jon?”  Yes, it’s true.  I have always known of what I am but dealing with it has been another thing entirely.  Anyhow, the conversation changed and I was relieved but the feeling nagged away at me.

I got back home, Ulla was online and I spoke with her about it.  I was totally and utterly disgusted with myself, I felt like a complete letdown.  She told me not to be so hard on myself, that coming out and being comfortable with one’s sexuality is a process.  She’s right, it is.  What shocked me I suppose is how I not only denied it but wanted to push the whole thing away from me and kind of disown it.

I thought because I had done the Coming Out interview, had fantastic gay friends and in many ways had made peace with who I am that these awful moments were gone altogether.  Having spoken to someone the other day about just this, he said it’s hard to free yourself of all the negative ideas and opinions and that occasionally, there will be tough days.  He talked to me about Internalised Homophobia and how that plays a part in eating away at a positive gay self-image.  He’s right, it does.

My head’s in a bit of a spin at the moment and I don’t know where I’m at on some levels. I do know that I’m gay and in the main I’m happy and comfortable with it.  I just sometimes get the sense from wider society that because I’m homosexual my sexuality is in some ways inferior to heterosexuality because it’s not about anything more than intimacy and having fun!  How fucked up is that?  I need to stop thinking and playing things over and just get on with it.

Thanks for listening, I appreciate it.

The lowly suburban queer….

When I think of suburbia I think of neatly trimmed hedges and lawn lines; pretty flowers in pots, baskets and borders; the sound of petrol mowers on a Sunday afternoon; people-carriers parked on driveways; children playing outside and older people tending the vegetable patches in their back gardens.  The suburbs are often viewed as middle-class, conservative both with a big and small ‘c’ and predominantly white in terms of ethnicity.

Yet within all this blandness lives a species we shall call the ’suburban queer.’  I know this person exists because I’m one of them.  Do I look any different from anyone else in my road?  Nope.  Does my presence advertise the fact I’m ‘on the team’ as it were?  Nope.  Does anyone know about me?  Well, Mum does but you could hardly call her the typical suburbanite.  Or is she?

That’s just it, because suburban living is so seemingly sedate, no one knows what’s going on underneath the ultra-ordinary exterior.  Growing up, I often heard gossip about “him at No. 37″ or “her at No. 6″ and “have you heard she’s only got pregnant by the milkman?  Yes, her!!!!”  This was often accompanied by vigorous shakes of the head from others present, looks of disdain and the set response “you’re kidding me?!?!?”  So, there must be all sorts of things that occur that very few of us ever have an inkling of.

Take for instance, the chap across the road from us.  His wife left him 3 or 4 years back now but because I see her daily in her car driving to and from the house, I assumed everything was hunkydory.  It took our neighbourhood gossip to inform me recently that “oh no, they haven’t been together for ages now” before giving me all the ins-and-outs pertaining to their break-up plus some associated venom which I could have well done without.

I would never have guessed that what I was seeing was in fact a mirage, an illusion.  Who knows then what is going on in the rest of the street?  There are more than likely other gay people.  There’s bound to be a bit of transvestism going on behind closed doors.  Affairs.  Maybe even a bit of bondage thrown in for good measure.

Do the neighbours know that I’m gay?  That I keep a blog pertaining to my homosexuality?  That I have a weekly column at a queer website?  That I’m in close contact with a South African dyke whom I think the world of? That I like watching gay adult movies where guys are doing all sorts to one another? That I’m friends with, gasp, another gay guy who lives not a mile away from here? I doubt it.  I live in suburbia and that means giving as little of myself away to the outside world as possible.  Is that a good thing?  I’m still deciding on that.

Who would wear this?

I think even at a Pride celebration this t-shirt would be deemed a tad risqué…

A bit too full-on methinks

I saw this design at eBay and contemplated buying it then reason and common sense kicked in and I thought better of it.  I like it though, smutty old queen that I am!!!!