Sabbatical

So I have been quite sporadic lately (both in terms of frequency and content) with this blog. I guess it has to do with ambivalence towards it and also a feeling that it is no longer as enjoyable as it once was.

Perhaps in this time of change for me, this is not the period for self-reflextion. And so I leave you at this time. Don't know if this will be forever or if I may start a new blog anew. But I feel that the time has past for this forum at this point in my life.

All the best and thanks for all of your comments and support.

Tour of London

Had an incredibly busy weekend as my Mom was in town. On Friday after work we were going to head down to West Hampstead to have a bite to eat after she finished reading The Da Vinci Code (yes, she is one of the few who had read it or seen the movie). She had started it that morning and like many others couldn't put it down until she was done.

We ended up going nowhere as my Landlord and Landlady who live upstairs knocked on the door asking if we would like to join them for some nibbles and wine. Ah…YES. We ended up sitting around on the patio for hours chatting and drinking.

Was wonderful to get to know them.

Got up around 8 the next morning. I had planned to take my Mom on some belated Mother's Day events. However as my mom was getting ready, I started to smell some weird smoke. She had plugged her curling iron into what she thought was a step down adapter but was really only an adapter for appliances (such as computers) that don't need a current conversion. Well, the iron was a-melting.

And so I was off to find a new one. The only one I could find was £20 (which seems like a lot for a curling iron). And then I ran home. It was a little after 10 and we had to be at the London Eye for our scheduled trip at 11:30. I had booked a trip that included a tour guide that would explain everything since I know nothing.

We sprinted towards the bus stop when Mom stopped and wondered, "Did I unplug the curling iron?" I would have laughed if I wasn't crying. Well, it was unplugged and we were off again.

We made it to the Eye with not a moment to spare. But my Mom looked terrified. I didn't think the height would bother her. And luckily when we went up it didn't. It really was a great tour. Here is a picture of what the Eye looks like:




And this is what each Eye-Pod is like:




And then the view of the Houses of Parliament from on High:




After that we went to the Star Wars exhibit which has a bunch of original props, models, costumes, drawings etc. Mom has always loved Star Wars so this was a real treat.

We went to Leicester Square after to buy some theatre tickets as she really wanted to see the Mousetrap. She adores Agatha Christie and the chance to she her play where it has been running for 55 years (!) was too much to give up.

But before the play it was off to Hampstead Heath for a walk around the wonderfully peaceful (however cluttered with people) park.

And so, after the play (which was quite entertaining) Saturday was finally over and I was exhausted.

On to Sunday where the day started early again going to the medieval castle known as the Tower of London. When I was a kid I thought the Tower of London meant that it was a huge tower where people were imprisoned -but it isn't really that at all.

Then we walked across picturesque Tower Bridge to the south bank where we proceeded to walk to the Houses of Parliament. It was a beautiful sunny day and we ended up walking, according to Mom's pedometer, 17000 steps! Exhausted after all of this sight-seeing it was off to an early dinner at the Gourmet Burger Kitchen in West Hampstead for an absolutely miraculously delicious avacodo bacon burger.

And then we collapsed in front of the TV at home.

Wow, just a crazy weekend.

Big Sister

So the only reason that I would have watched the Uk version of Big Brother was if there happend to by some hot guys who frequently felt that it was too hot to wear a shirt/pants/clothing.

So imagine my disappointment (or relief at not having to watch) when I found out this morning that there are no men in the house at all.

While this may be both sexist and shallow - I don't see the point of that show unless you can perve a bit.

Chaperoned

So my last week was just go-Go-GO.

Started off the week meeting up with CtGuy for drinks in the city. He is a charming fella' and we passed an interesting evening near his gym having a few drinks near the river. The evening was especially interesting in seeing his interaction with a few of his office mates.

One of them mentioned that they sometimes play a game where each of these straight guys will see how gay they can go with each other before the other one gives out. Ah the remnants of British all-boys boarding schools!

Had lunch with Chad, a friend from Sydney who now works for a bank in Canary Wharf. Chad has always been a wild man and now is no different. Still a crazy guy who is out somewhere in Vauxhall every weekend. How he manages to keep going is beyond my abilities.

Friday, I was lucky enough to have seen the new musical called the "Drowsy Chaperone" at the Novello with tickets given to me by Czech Out who was still on his honeymoon in Réunion. Lucky me!

Stuart and I laughed and laughed at this very camp (even for a musical), very gay (even for a musical), romp (even for…you get the idea) through a fake 1920s musical with the darling Elaine Page as a rarely sober but always witty Chaperone at a wedding. My favourite line has to be during a press conference held by a broadway star just before her wedding when this actress asks if anyone else has any questions.

The Chaperone raises her hand.

"Yes?"

The Chaperone slurs out, "Why would anyone put an olive in a Gimlet?"

After the show Stuart and I went to have a drink. Past by the Box, where I have yet to go, but there were so many people we decided not to give it a chance. (Well, perhaps there wasn't too many people, but instead the people there had such enormous necks from all the roids that fewer of them could actually fit side by side). We went down to Soho instead where we had one drink outside the Compton (filled with the well-past-their-prime) and another at Rupert Street (filled with the just-past-their-prime…of which I must claim (or at least accept begrudgingly, membership) where we watched the pre-pubescent and the near-decrepit wait anxious for a glance (and a grope) of Harry Potter.

The weekend otherwise past by easily with more furniture shopping and general relaxing. Then on Monday in the midst of a terrible 5 C May day, I decided that I needed some porn. Bud asked why and I had to admit that my imagination just wasn't cutting it anymore. Who wants to think of their own fantasy when one can be supplied? And I have to admit that today I am a bit more relaxed.

Ah…only 25 days to go until he arrives.

The Markers

So the past week was one of the hardest I have ever had at work. All-nighters, late nights, changes in structure, endless meetings, conference calls and drafts. On Tuesday though, we thought the deal was dead. So I took the evening off and went to the Inter-banks drinks.

Inter-banks drinks is a monthly drink event in the City for gay banking professionals. When I got there I was hit by the normal problem whenever you move to a new city. Everyone there seemed to be in groups of four or more, so breaking in takes a bit of work. And unfortunately, the other gay banker that I know cancelled on me at the last minute. But sometimes you just have to plunge in.

Luckily,

Gay Banker

was there, so there was at least one friendly face. And then I ran into a guy who had given a seminar recently at a large investment bank on gay issues. So at least I didn't need to pity poor old me on my own.

The deal went back into swing Wednesday morning and didn't die until Thursday late evening. But it looks gone now.

And so the weekend arrived and my friend Scott arrived from Afghanistan joined by his girlfriend from Germany. Scott and I went to law school together and he has been working for the UN in Afghanistan for the past 3 or 4 years. Not my choice of local, but the money is good and he seems to (surprisingly) make a good human rights officer.

We spent the day on a shopping tour of London. Scott is one of those strange straight men that love to buy clothes. So every time that he comes to London, its off to Saville Row to have something tailored (although why he needs anything like that in Afghanistan is beyond me), and also purchased an umbrella from some place off Shaftesbury Avenue for £160, shave balm and soap for £80 before heading off to have his previously custom made shoes (a meager £1000) tightened. I was fairly disgusted.

But its his money - his choice.

We stopped at a great cheese shop on Jermyn street and then headed off to Kensington Gardens for a little cheese and champagne before dinner. A cocktail at some pathetically pretentious place in Notting Hill called Lonsdale, I think was followed by dinner at the Notting Hill Grill. Terrible. I had been warned about British food but I was appalled at the steak I had. Stringy and tough. One thing about Montreal is that despite all of my complaints about living there the food is among the best I have ever had and at about a quarter of the cost of this Grill in the Hill.

The next day I met up with Stuart and Sean for a bite to eat in West Hampstead. On the way back to my place we passed a cemetery on Fortune Green. We decided to go for a walk through. Not the oldest cemetery ever with tombs from the early 1800s to now, I was struck by how the ravages of time and weather had slowly stripped away all of the markings off so many of the older tombstones. Many were crumbling and some had tumbled either face first or flat on their backs.

And I thought to myself that these markers that we place in an attempt to keep those who have passed alive also will eventually die. There are so many there who are remembered by none including even that post that was to remember them for always.

And there are so few in the world whose lives touch enough people on a grand enough scale to be remembered for long after they have past. And I know that I shall not be one of those. I neither crave that nor seek it. But I wondered, as I wandered through the remnants of the people who had gone before me, did it really matter? And I looked over at Stuart and thought of how much he had influenced my life. And I thought of Bud, and how much this time apart was rendering my soul into shards, and I realized that all that truly mattered was being around those I love. Those wonder people who make me something more than I am on my own. What is written on that stone can never encompass what I truly am - because I am more than just the sum of these body parts. I am made of these people who surround me. And I am all the more thankful for it.

First Few Weeks

Okay, yes its true, I have been delinquent here since my arrival in London. However, this has not been due to any slacker qualities that I may have but solely due to the fact that I have not yet had an internet connection at my home. And no television either! Scary dark world that I am living in.

London has been pretty amazing so far. So good to have my old friend Stuart back in my life (have already spent far too many nights sleeping on his sofa after finding myself to inebriated to get back home. Work is interesting and intense but all in all just like working anywhere else. Although having a gym and a pool at the office is a nice perk.

Found a place to live in Hampstead. While it is more than I wanted to spend, I had a terrible time finding anywhere that would let me have dogs. Speaking of dogs, I do so terribly miss my two puppies! It sucks. I often find them terribly annoying but I do so love them.

But of course, I miss Bud most of all. It has now been over a month since I last saw him and less than 6 weeks to go before he is here. I can hardly wait. Being apart is truly horrific. I sleep terribly and rarely want to do much without him. Love fool that I am - its nice that I still feel this way after almost five years.

Went off to Prague last weekend with work. Had a great time - it’s a really beautiful city. The men, as I said to Bud, were all these sexy east-European looking guys (to which bud, rather wisely, stated, that's a bit redundant, of course they look east-European). The people were all very friendly and I hope to make it back again soon.

A friend working in Afghanistan arrives in town on Friday for a bit of relaxation. Apparently we'll be having an afternoon of champagne and cheese. La vie francaise à Londres.

One thing that I find very strange here is how so many people at work don't say hello to each other. you walk past one another and not a word is said - then when I say hello a look of panicked shock washes over their faces. Bizarre - or maybe just British

I have arrived!

Arrived in London yesterday.

Well - I guess it is real now.

And I am already missing my Bud (and of course, the puppies). Its strange that until now, this move didn't quite seem to be real. But now that I am on English soil with all the clothes I own, there is no denying it.

And it is all a bit scary. In a good way. It is exciting to move to a new place, but I notice that this time is different. Whereas when I was a younger man in a new place it was all thrilling, in my advanced age of my earlyish 30s, there is more worry.

I worry about what the job will be like, how I can live without Bud for 80 days, how easily will it be to meet friends, will I meet any friends on that "outstanding-lifelong" level?

And so today I am off with my estate agent looking for a place to live.

Wish me luck

Closer

So I am getting very nervous.

Work finishes up for me on Thursday and then I fly out on the 11th. I must admit that the time has flown by. But now I am worried about the move.

Its not like I have never moved to another city/country before, but I did it when I was a bit younger. And while I do know a few people in London already, I have to get prepared to go on a search for new friends. Now, most people don’t believe me when I say that I am shy, but this is only because my shield against my shyness can sometimes be an outwardly outgoing personality. But I nevertheless can find it difficult to meet new people.

And so I have resolved to be extremely social and to avoid these problems if possible. I have been looking into various types of groups in London that I can get involved in to meet people and am hopeful that these will help. Now of course, my job will keep me busy, but I know that I need to get that work/life balance down.

Don't know if I will post again before I leave but will write soon to talk about my new fabulous! life in London