(no subject)
Hello, hello, everyone. I still haven't yet perished. I'm still alive and well roaming around the vicinity of mother Glasgow, snatching bare minimal sleep five nights a week and attempting to reclaim my life as I once knew it on the remaining two. Unlike a lot of my fellow Glaswegians, this doesn't always entail copious drinking, as I have never to my knowledge been an alcolohic and I feel a tiny twinge of pity for those whose lives revolve solely around working weekdays and weekends getting pissed. Even if I did take that lifestyle on a crash-test when I was working in Sales Monday to Friday.
But anyway, things have been happening. Lots of things since I last posted here. Currently I'm house-sitting for my dad's new prospective lady-friend, who is on holiday at the moment. I have been extremely well behaved - so much so that I don't know whether I should feel proud of or disappointed in myself, for not throwing at least one party or breaking at least one heirloom. I've even gone to the bother of tidying things up and trying to keep everything ship-shape, and this isn't something that comes natural to me. I'm really constitutionally incapable of being as tidy as this every day.
And the thing that both slightly annoys and slightly compliments me is that the woman said, on the same night she'd met me for the first time, after offering me to house-sit, was that she knew I was a nice sort of character the moment she saw me. I've been told this before and I can't quite fathom it: It's of course true that I'm mostly nice to the core - but where do people get such sweeping first impressions? Is it that I do actually emit honesty vibes in the first few seconds of body language given, or are they being influenced by my soft, innocent-looking babyface and letting their intuition take the credit for the judgement? I would like to know because there is something almost offensive about being told that you look as though you lack guile completely, even if you do. Like the person in work the other day who said that she quite liked me because there was something "almost naive" about me - and those who know me well will know that naive is one of the last things that I am - even if I display some of the symptoms from time to time. Of course, I'd rather that than to look right shifty, right enough.
Aside from that, my man-friend, when he came to pick me up from work the other day to go to Loch Lomond, commented that he had been watching everyone leaving the building while waiting on me, and noted that I was the one who looked most interesting - that the way I walked and held myself made me "look as though [I] had character" (which of course I do). When I said that his opinion would have been influenced slightly by the fact that I was the only non-stranger to egress within the timescale, he told me that he could only see my legs approaching the exit at first, and was watching the way I was walking. I can live with that. He later added that I "walk like a gay man", and I'm still trying to get my head around that.
As mentioned, we went to Loch Lomond, and went a little boat paddle around Luss for a few hours, before madness struck me and I decided to take my lifejacket for a test drive near the shore. It worked, and, my God, the water was a bit biting. We then farted around a bit and drove back to Glasgow, where I am now, and where it's bed-time, alas, as I have work tomorrow. Argh.
As a parting shot, before I leave you for another month (just kidding): The other day while sleeping alongside my man-friend he farted rather loudly. I expressed my slight distaste and he assured me it was a way men showed affection in some situations. A few moments later I broke wind also and affirmed: "I love you too." I found this amusing enough to share.
Je vous souhaite une bonne semaine.
But anyway, things have been happening. Lots of things since I last posted here. Currently I'm house-sitting for my dad's new prospective lady-friend, who is on holiday at the moment. I have been extremely well behaved - so much so that I don't know whether I should feel proud of or disappointed in myself, for not throwing at least one party or breaking at least one heirloom. I've even gone to the bother of tidying things up and trying to keep everything ship-shape, and this isn't something that comes natural to me. I'm really constitutionally incapable of being as tidy as this every day.
And the thing that both slightly annoys and slightly compliments me is that the woman said, on the same night she'd met me for the first time, after offering me to house-sit, was that she knew I was a nice sort of character the moment she saw me. I've been told this before and I can't quite fathom it: It's of course true that I'm mostly nice to the core - but where do people get such sweeping first impressions? Is it that I do actually emit honesty vibes in the first few seconds of body language given, or are they being influenced by my soft, innocent-looking babyface and letting their intuition take the credit for the judgement? I would like to know because there is something almost offensive about being told that you look as though you lack guile completely, even if you do. Like the person in work the other day who said that she quite liked me because there was something "almost naive" about me - and those who know me well will know that naive is one of the last things that I am - even if I display some of the symptoms from time to time. Of course, I'd rather that than to look right shifty, right enough.
Aside from that, my man-friend, when he came to pick me up from work the other day to go to Loch Lomond, commented that he had been watching everyone leaving the building while waiting on me, and noted that I was the one who looked most interesting - that the way I walked and held myself made me "look as though [I] had character" (which of course I do). When I said that his opinion would have been influenced slightly by the fact that I was the only non-stranger to egress within the timescale, he told me that he could only see my legs approaching the exit at first, and was watching the way I was walking. I can live with that. He later added that I "walk like a gay man", and I'm still trying to get my head around that.
As mentioned, we went to Loch Lomond, and went a little boat paddle around Luss for a few hours, before madness struck me and I decided to take my lifejacket for a test drive near the shore. It worked, and, my God, the water was a bit biting. We then farted around a bit and drove back to Glasgow, where I am now, and where it's bed-time, alas, as I have work tomorrow. Argh.
As a parting shot, before I leave you for another month (just kidding): The other day while sleeping alongside my man-friend he farted rather loudly. I expressed my slight distaste and he assured me it was a way men showed affection in some situations. A few moments later I broke wind also and affirmed: "I love you too." I found this amusing enough to share.
Je vous souhaite une bonne semaine.