returned from manchester monday night, sloppy, scruffy and spent. had barely enough time to unpack, launder, repack and get my sorry europrided ass to heathrow in time for my flight to san francisco on tuesday morning. arrived in san francisco homeless, cranky and jetlagged, so i napped and showered at the local hojo before meeting up with the burningman crew at 530am wednesday.

packing up the uhaul in the haight as the sun came up, i was groggily yet blissfully reunited with my best pals from san fran: stacy and her beau gian, aussie ken and his ex beau juan, hooman [my original bm companion], mancage jason, cheri and kai.

this was my first true exposure to american life, american accents and american frivolity in nearly a year. during the 7-hour drive from freakishly liberal san francisco, through wealthy conservative northern california, and eventually through primitive wild west nevada i was able to start to deal with my culture shock, and already started to catch myself being a bit too pretentious and holier-than-thou with my britain versus america tidbits.

that always get what he wants

another interesting and grueling day at the old/new job. webwhoring is fun, but oh how i forgot about the stresses of office politics and cubicle life and the boredom and inherent unhappiness of consultants in this economic climate.

.gregiño and i both worked late friday, so we met for a late dinner at balans before hopping over to .popstarz—ran into irish lee and hampstead matt and amer and millionaire daniel among other cutie lads. needed to dance my ass off after clocking 24 cubicle hours in 2 days.

was meant to work both saturday and sunday too, but i couldn’t get into the office on my temporary pass. oh well. rather than earning money, i spent the day spending money. added two new dark-blue t-shirts to my wardrobe, bringing the total up to 14. i loves me dark-blue t-shirts. i wore my new extra-long funkyfresh t-shirt when i met fluffer ian for our date dinner saturday.

fluffer ian is a lovely lad i met just after arriving in london, but would only manage to bump into every 4 months or so. we had a date back in april which, by all accounts, went very well. but, for a variety of excuses reasons, we never actually met up again. we texted, we emailed, we made plans to see joseph, but my lust love went unrequieted. requiet me, dammit, requiet me!

four months go by, i assume the lovely ian’s joined a convent or something, when conveniently i ran into him on friday night on the street, both of us meeting friends. he dragds me into ku, buys me a drink, and we catch up very rapidly while waiting for our friends. smiles. laughs. smirks. body language. touchy feely. chills. smooch.

with an electric recollection of our farewell smooch the previous night, on saturday i tricked him into having dinner with me. you know it’s a great date meal when the hours fly by with effortless conversation and zero boredom. he went to .g-a-y to see girls aloud, i stomped over to .ghetto to see eric aloud, and i danced the night away, sweating off a good 5 pounds.

it’s fun to be smitten, it’s fun to overanalyze, it’s fun to pretend. with few exceptions, i manage to keep meeting the most exceptional of losers, and rarely do i let myself fall for someone living an adult [rather than student, or retail, or jobless, or waiter, or rent boy, or unemployed] life.

ian took my photo above. i took his photo at right.

i do like to be beside the seaside

just finished one of those weekends that i’ll still be grinning about when i’m on my rocking chair 50 years from now. a little bit sunburned, incredibly exhausted, thoroughly dehydrated and completely, utterly happy.

thursday hit discotec with mark, darian and visiting los angeles media boy, michael wb. discotec has dark housey tunes like beyond, except it’s not quite the weekend, so people aren’t quite as cracked-out of their minds. no sign of octavio, the delicious portugese boy i pulled the week prior, and whose phone number i lost. flirted with leonardo, the pseudo-innocent bartender who spilled drinks on me monday at .heaven. chilled afterwards with ash and james before tiptoeing home.

friday, had lunch with old scient work colleagues matt and john hez, before rondezvousing with michael wb for some shopping and drinking. all of the 16yo ku bar twinky waiters clung to him like, well, cheap m&s pants on cheap rent boys. ended up at .popstarz, hoping to meet my blind date drew—but he bailed, and i ended up playing games with amer, and discussing quantum mechanics with popstarz simon until closing.

after only a few hours sleep, woke up saturday to meet greg and former flatmate steve for our trip to brighton pride. my last trip to the santa monica of england was in 1998, and from the moment we stepped off the train we were in heaven. refreshing sea breezes, excellent food, and sweaty coastal-town boyflesh everywhere.

the pride itself was free and in the huge presston park, allowing impressive numbers of people from all walks of life to stroll through—plenty of straights & families, which is exactly how it should be. it was so hot, that within moments of dancing i was completely drenched in sweat, and as i busted it up on the dancefloor, my flailing hair and limbs were throwing sweat everywhere. ran into marcos, michael wb, tim, irish lee, brother mark, brother tim [the necklace stealers], the editor of attitude, leonardo and two hot snogging firemen fireboys.

after 6 hours of dancing in the sweltering heat, showered at michael wb’s hotel and hit a few bars along the coast, with flatmate mitch and his delicious colleague twinky jamie. eventually we settle in at revenge, where there are delicious boys, friendly barkeeps, and absoultey perfect eurodance/eurotrance booming across the up-for-it dancefloor. and, for once, proper lighting! i love strobes that make me convulse, lasers that make me fall over, smoke machines that make me levitate.

run into craig and his friends, all of whom are lovely, and none of whom are single. the highlight of the evening was running into steven. steven is friendly, cute, a sexy dancer, has a wonderful smile, is slightly shorter than me and as charming as can be. unfortunately, i have absolutely no concept how i know him or where i met him—when he approached me on the dancefloor, exclaiming, hi, eric! i drew a complete blank.

we chilled for a bit, and enjoyed some deliciously flirty smalltalk. around 2am or so, he said he had to get back to london, and offered me a ride with his friend alistair. i declined, and we swapped numbers. i’m hoping a heavy book will fall off my bookshelf onto my head, and i’ll suddenly remember where i know him, and who the hell this cutie is.

around 4 or so, greg and i strolled down to the beach with markus and gerry, the tall, lanky, black-haired, blue-eyed east-end car thief that mark and i shagged over a year ago and have been avoiding ever since. back then, he seemed evil and crude and dangerous. cuddling on the beach, on a blanket in the cool sea mist, he seemed charming and sweet and dead sexy. funny, that.

as the sun came up, greg and i rocked to sleep on the train ride back home, whilst a cracked-out british airways flight attendant diva sashayed up and down the carriage, cracking everyone up with his antics. friends, dancing, sunshine, good kissing, fresh air, and to get the fuck out of london for a weekend was exactly what i needed.