after buying the entirety of will & grace season 1 on DVD, and watching those 24 episodes repeatedly, i was overjoyed when my friend manny mentioned that he had been downloading tons of episodes over his new dsl connection.
devil!
my kazaalite p2p application can be used for more than just downloading porn. hooray me!
it feels really really nice to have friends like michael and greg. they cleaned my flat, bought me a chicken kebab and didn’t really criticize when i polished off a bottle of wine on my own.
on the tube ride into town last night, we sat across from a very livid arsenal football fan. he was very smiley, chatty and i get the feeling he actually wasn’t that pissed. he was wearing an american flag bandana, as well as a pair of doc martin’s boots which had american flags on ‘em. “aww, lads, these are in honor of september 11th. you know, to show solidarity against them arabs.” i correct him, “you mean, against terrorism?” and he nods, “yeah, against them arab terrorists.” we let it drop, and he entertains us for a few more moments until we reach oxford circus.
in no time, we’re relaxing upstairs at the edge, having fun. i remind michael about the last time we were there and we left without paying for drinks — the bartender reminded him, with evil eyebrows, “just remember — we have CCTV here!” mmhmm…
got into the ghetto nice and early. i have a general rule about deejays — the uglier they are, the better they are. the rule is true at least 95% of the time. look at the superstars — oakie, diggers, danny tenaglia, the drag queen deejays at heaven. however, last night there was a very yummy deejay spinning some uplifting balearic house tunes [i know, i know, i'm a genre queen]. his tunes brought a smile to my face and his looks reminded me that it’s time for a hair bleaching.
my deflated ego was reinflated with some looks, some smiles, a few stares and a grope. lemme add those up on my scorecard… three and nine… carry the six… there we go… 87 points. that officially makes me a winner again. a true champion of life.
it’s just a matter of time
before you make up your mind
to give all that love that you’ve been hiding
it’s just a question of when
i’ve told you time and again
i’ll get all the love you’ve been denying
several hours of self-analysis yesterday morning, and several hours of analysis from my friends has left me with no clear reason for my fucked up emotional state. since i had my first crush when i was 17, it would seem almost as if my emotional/hormonal/relationship maturity is waning rather than growing.
sunday, the morning after a big flatwarming party at my place, i find myself upset, sad, lonely, confused, alone, heartbroken and like i’ve lost something.
the background, in basic terms:
1) i fancy my flatmate because he’s cute and nice. possible boyfriend material.
2) i fancy a ‘certain friend’ because he’s cute. definite shag material.
3) i’ve almost hooked up with my flatmate a few times.
4) i have hooked up with ‘certain friend’ once, and this is the first time i’ve seen him since that hookup.
5) they hooked up at my party, and stayed the night together in the room next to mine.
those are the facts. the reasons why i’m upset, in the most basic terms:
1) i like my flatmate, and want him to like me.
2) i’d like another tryst with ‘certain friend’.
3) i have a huge ego, and would’ve like both of them to lust after me at the party.
4) they had crazy sex in the middle of the party, and everyone knows about it as well as my crush on my flatmate.
5) my idealistic, innocent image of my flatmate is now tainted.
is it my heart getting broken? not exactly. do i actually, really want anything with either of them? not really. is my ego so big that i expect every single boy at my party to fancy me? almost. am i being a bit silly about the whole situation? absolutey—i’ve been giving both flatmate & ‘certain friend’ a very cold shoulder.
you’ve been looking for love
in all the wrong places
you’ve been looking for love
all the wrong faces
gotta get ya boy
on this illusion
gonna save your heart
from all this confusion
the flat is still pretty much a disaster from saturday night’s flatwarming party which celebrated the arrival of new flatmates steve and adam. I had envisioned something along the lines of a chilled get-together, with people sitting around chatting and some music in the background. I mean, we didn’t invite that many people and I figured because of the timing people would just stop by for a bit before going out clubbing or something.
to my delight, the first person to arrive was little mark. we chatted for a while and I soaked up the sexual tension [erm, I mean chemistry] like a paper towel wiping up a spilled drink. by 8:30 the usual crew [michael, greg, mark] had shown up. greg made an absolutely amazing magic punchbowl… talk about delicious! fresh peaches, and about 20 other tasty ingredients made it an absolute hit, and eventually shifted the party into high gear.
as was to be expected, at 9pm just about everyone else showed up. my old american fling seth and incredibly entertaining xavior, my old flatmate felix with his aussie boyf mark, my delightful landlord charlie and his boyf steve, flatmate steve’s friend ed, my lovely second-cousin andrew and a smattering of others. the music got cranked up, all the windows were opened, and people crammed out onto the balcony to debauch.
eventually adam got home from work with a handful of his musical mates. at this point, the lights were low, the candles carefully placed, and the soundtrack optimized. a few people danced, most people stood and I began to have slight flashbacks to the last proper party we threw, which was the birthday bash for greg and myself when I lived on castro street in san francisco.
if I knew it was going to be a party party, I would’ve invited more peeps. around 1am or so it was pretty obvious that “love is in the air”, and like noah’s ark, there went the animals, two by two. a few surprises, and the remainder of us stayed up till 7ish chatting and nodding off and getting stuck to the floor.
of course, there are photos. 
.
i woke up after a few hours of sleep and dealt with my own personal dramas and issues by having a delightful full english breakfast in the middle of finsbury park, right next to the duck pond, followed by a few hours of contemplative sunbathing.
just enjoying the warm summer breeze flowing through the flat. very nice.
had a delightfully greasy pseudobreakfast around noon with steve and josh… during the meal tried my damnedest to fill in the absolutley blank slate that constitutes 12 hours of my life on friday. oh well.
we stopped by the bottle shop and bought lots of drinky drinks for the flatwarming party tonight, as the boys cleaned the flat i went off to meet michael and greg for lunch near greg’s work at kings cross. found a delightful, fast, clean, cheap and delicious chinese food restaurant called chop chop.
over lunch, greg helped fill in the gaps. let’s just say that i’m not proud of my actions and still have absolutely no idea how/when i got home. i keep closing my eyes and try to visualize a night bus or a taxi or leaving the club [or even being in the club] but i can’t recall any such activities. cest la vie?!
gotta start the party in preciesly 3 minutes.
i always wondered what my limits were.
waking up with aboslutely no recollection of the previous evening.
that would be it, then.
let’s not repeat that.
now you can click around the London Underground Tube map and find bloggers around the city.
How exciting Finsbury Park is.
Berkeley, the first city to ban Styrofoam and wood-fired pizza ovens, could become the first to enact Aristotle’s ancient law of logic — that every entity is equal to itself.
In a philosophical effort to come up with a city law that no one could ever break, conceptual artist Jonathon Keats wants Berkeley to legally acknowledge Aristotle’s law, commonly expressed as A=A.
More at SFGate.com: Aristotle’s law petition confounds blase Berkeley
