The End of the Money?!

So....today was possibly the last time I'll be working for what I hope isn't a long time, as it was my final Taster Day with Tony McLeod, (who incidentally said he was going to 'powder his nose' to take a break. GAY BOOTZ!) and it was nice and easy. I'll be a little sad, I must admit. I was getting quite used to the idea of teaching a random group of kids about the wonderfulness that is Creative Writing and it was a good run. Taught me many things about myself, the most important being: that I can actually teach and I'm pretty damn good at it!

But that is not the post of this blog.

No.

I'm writing because twice today I was told to email the head of Roehampton University, which I know now must be divine providence. Obviously in the blog, I've been trying to chronicle the craziness that has been this school since I've been coming here last September. All the disappointment, the frustration, the denial, many of it the fault of the university, came to a head when I was told to tell them about it. By them, I'm referring to the Pro Vice-Chancellor and his second in command. Apparently a lot of what Roehampton has done they don't want me to expose because it will seem as really quite bad for the school, as well as it should be. So now I have to think about how I will craft this letter to talk about all the ridiculousness that this university has put me through, while simultaneously possibly asking for a job in the disability office to ensure this doesn't happen again in the future for other students.

THAT will be interesting....no?

Say Hello To My Little Friend!

This, blog, is my new mini netbook which I purchased yesterday. Okay...did I really have the money to buy it? Not...really. But to be fair it wasn't exactly an impulse buy. My laptop is like six freaking years old and it's large and clunky and while it works fairly well to type on, granted the keys were starting to fall out and it can no longer reliably serf the Internet. I'll be fair. It has served me well (reasonably, not counting the last year.) And it is time to let go and move on. It's a Dell 910 mini and it's soooo cute! I bought it because I'll be traveling quite a bit upon my return to the States, and I figured, I can use it to be doing my writing and surfing the net, without having to lug this ugly box around which will be nice. Now I can be trendy and sophisticated for all of three seconds as I work on my novel at the airport and the train station, lol.



In other news, let's see. I found out from Sarah Solly that I officially passed my poetry module. Yay! (Like I didn't know that, but with Jeff it's always a wildcard.) So that's good. Now I can officially move ahead and submit this dissertation that's been a massive pain in my ass for the entire summer. I'm looking forward to finally getting this thing out of my hands for good. Well, at least over to the teacher before it goes on my harddrive for a little while. If nothing else, I guess it's nice to be able to spend your day writing and planning and plotting as you please. I suppose this is the life of a writer. If that's the case, I'm going to have to develop some serious discipline. lol. Then again, Louise did tell me the trick was treating it like a job. Getting up at 9 to work till 5 and so on. I just don't know if I can commit to such a thing at the moment. But I am at least eyeing to have the first book "The Unravelling" ready for agent review by next summer. Ugh. A whole 'nother year. Oh well. We shall see.

Tom. Hmm....that's a complicated issue. He came through on Sunday, after flaking out I mean developing some kind of eye thing on Saturday after I went with Sajitha to her church. That was interesting. I headed along trying to see what Seven Day Adventist was all about. And afterward, this lady was trying hardcore to get me to go back and join and all that. I....don't think that's gonna be happening. These people were like, hardCORE about their bibles. Seriously. No makeup. No earrings. And every line was spoken with the unspoken utterance of "fire and brimstone" in it. Not a bad place, though. Good singers. I enjoyed the music. And the word. That kid who was preaching was good. A bit long winded. Okay, very long winded. The church was supposed to be out by 12:45. At 1:30, he was still going strong. Anyway, after a brief argument with Sajitha's friend about why it's supposedly impossible for people to be both Christian and gay, I came back to chill until Sunday when Tom came.

Well. His coming didn't exactly work out like I or he planned. To be fair, I was still a bit miffed about his not coming for over a month. I mean I'm starting to think that this was another Andrew affair without the shocking revelation behind it, (by the way he totally called me the other day with this thing of "I wish you weren't leaving the UK..." HUH? really? YOU DO? Cause I had no damn idea....but anyway) which is a bit disappointing. I gave him two opportunities to speak up and tell me what he wanted to do, and when he didn't take the bait either time, I was just about over it. I told him about what Andrew did to me, and I was waiting for him to respond with a "oh well our relationship isn't like that. I enjoy hanging out with you and I know your place isn't a hotel." Did I get it? No. He just said, "huh" and moved on. Strike one. Then we went to Nando's for dinner (mmmmm) and while there after loving me some Dani, we got to talking about our plans once we were both back in the States. I was just trying to see if he wanted to see me there, and he's all like, "you could come to New Orleans but I don't know if Baton Rouge would be good for you." Huh? That's not what you're supposed to say. Considering that your ass will have a car now, you could be like, "yeah it might be a little hard, but hey we'll get over it. Because I really want to see you, I'll make it work."

*sigh*

I didn't hear any of it. And it was disappointing. So when we made it back to the crib, and we're playing Lego Harry Potter (which is fun, mind you) he goes to try and kiss me when he starts to announce that he has to go. I wasn't feeling it. I felt like this whole trip was leading up to him trying to do something to me for some reason, and that he'd be disappointed if it didn't happen. Well considering at this point, I'd be disappointed twice, I wasn't in the mood for games and just spun around and dipped out. When he followed me to the kitchen and tried to kiss me a second time, he correctly guessed "I think I've pissed you off. I'm gonna go." My response? "later!" Yes I was pissed. You didn't say anything to me all day about what you wanted to do, especially when you know that we're on borrowed time as it is. So I took that is a fine. This is done. Could I have asked? Gotten my all consuming burning question? Yes. Did I want to? No. I'm sick and tired of being the one that does all the soul-searching. Let someone else ask ME for a fucking chance. I'm done with it. So I guess it's back to the drawing board on this one.

Am I upset about it? Yes. I know I had a lot in common with Tom. Writing, games, cooking, there was a lot to go on there. But I'm learning. Even that isn't enough some time. I know what I want for myself. Someone that cares about me. Truly. I want someone who calls me out the blue randomly just to be like, "I was thinking of you, so I just wanted to say hi." You never hear about that anymore. Am I being unrealistic? Maybe. But I know what I want. I deserve it. I have a lot to give. But only to the one who deserves to get it. Anyone else, can just get in line. Take a number, bitches.

:(

....The (gag) Horror.....

I can't even go into detail about anything else right now as I just literally shuddered reading this profile on Romeo from someone trying to hit me up for sex. Problem number one? 5'3, 297lbs. Let me just....post....ugh. Oh god.

I need to explain.I am 79 and I need my nurse, Mrs Holland to help me sometimes. First, she has to unplug me from the dialysis machine. Then she detaches my colostomy bag and cleans up the area. She helps me into my special frame where my legs are held open and my back supported. If she has to, she will spray my anal ulcers with anaesthetic. It can hurt sometimes when they flare up. Then she will cover your penis with disinfectant and lubricant and help you insert your cock inside me but only if you are not erect. If you are erect you will hurt me. She uses a spoon to help you in. Then when you are erect you can ejaculate inside me.

I need to go throw up. Excuse me.

Priiiiiiiide! (London, London, London...)

Yeah so this past Saturday was London Pride. Actually I wasn't going to go, because I didn't feel like it after the horrible experience of Farnborough the day before, but I realized it was a beautiful day and I really wanted to see it, so I dragged myself out the bed and threw on my Shiva wrap and a ton of silver glitter and headed down to Central.




It was really fun. I couldn't believe there were that many people out there. I guess that's what happens when gays decide that they want to do something worthwhile. Apparently it was supposed to happen in Soho but with the restructuring of the city, the council had told them that it wasn't going to happen because of a space ordinance and gave them the opportunity to get back to the 20,000 per bar in lost revenue or the ability to move it to Trafalgar Square. They chose option B, naturally.

Anyway, got down there and it was really nice to see everyone in support of gay rights. From what I understand, there was a million people plus there, which is awesome. I ran into Jon for a couple of minutes, and went off to enjoy the festivities, heading to Wagamama's afterward for dinner and lychee. It was a very nice day overall and I'm really happy I went.



What I would like to know is why so many gay dudes act like they are so offended by the idea of Pride? I got about sick and tired of people telling me (Tom included) that Pride is just whatever and that it's too sissified or whatever for them to go. I guess when you live in a place where such things are grounded and downplayed, you get the chance to act out when you get the chance. I guess maybe in places where it's considered pretty normal, it's not that big a deal but still he goes to school in Louisiana, and so I thought he'd understand my wanting to go a bit more. I'll talk more about that later.

July in Farnborough.

Wow this week has been so long. So, so, long. I'm glad that it's over. I can't express that enough. I've just been plowing through the script this week, trying to work on it for Liz and get it up to snuff. I had to make some pretty significant changes to the style of it, but I'm thinking that the style and the pace is much better suited now, so hopefully Liz will agree.

Other than that, it's pretty much been same ole same old. I went to Farnborough today, to an HE Fair that Tara sent me to because I wanted to get out of the city. In hindsight, I'm not sure that was a good thing because I had nothing but problems getting there and back. Getting there was easy enough, when the taxi picked me up this morning. I got to Clapham Junction and then that was where everything went wrong. Giving them the reservation they couldn't find anything and I was sitting there looking stupid. So I just went ahead and bought a ticket for myself. But doing this made me super late, and when I went to the staircase, I had to get in this weird contraption that I rolled in and she had to lower me backwards up the steps. Picture an adult-sized pram with military tread on the bottom. I can't think of any other way to put it. But I've never been so humiliated. It was very loud, very slow. I couldn't even look out at the people coming up the steps because I felt so humiliated. Then I got on the train and got there.

The fair was fine. Very long. But fine. And then I got ready to leave, got back to the station and talked to the manager and was told there was no way for disabled people to get across to the other side to get to Clapham Junction. So I had to head all the way down the track to this place Basingstoke and then go back to Clapham. Almost made me miss the Roehampton Car appointment I had. So annoying. So unnecessary. I don't think I'll be doing that again. Ugh.