A Journal Of Little Consequence Based on a true story.

Thursday, July 31, 2003   Because my employers were footing the bill, I ordered the largest available hamburger from a fast-food chain restaurant, an extravagance that I had not felt able to indulge in before, largely due to limited funds. Actually eating the burger was a mediocre experience at best, an inevitable let-down after a lifetime of anticipation of this moment. That's the problem with reaching your own "holy grail", whatever that might be. It's a cruel fate indeed to live without hope. Then again, there's always the cinema hot-dog. I can't imagine that I'll ever buy one of those things, whoever pays. posted by grover | Thursday, July 31, 2003   (Wednesday's entry) As we consumed some rather overcooked pizza, M.(a) quizzed me as to what I had been up to lately. This is one of my favourite things to ask someone else, as I can usually find something in their reply to hook onto, which leads the conversation into more interesting territory. However, this does not seem to work the other way around, and I do not enjoy answering the question myself. I am unsure as to whether this is due to a lack of skill on the part of others, or a lack of openness in myself. I tried to change the subject, but was steered back. I used to be better at this kind of verbal circumvention. It's a rather unrealistic attitude to think that anything I have to report would be inherently unworthy, of course. Indeed, this journal is intended to be a way for me to find something of note in each day, no matter how apparently uneventful it was. It's not so much about describing the day itself, more about what it meant to me. Nonetheless, I maintain my resistance to discussing the humdrum details of my life in friendly conversations. These exchanges are more about communicating on an emotional level than imparting raw information. To this end, I shall fabricate some suitably exciting tales in preparation for future queries about my recent activites. posted by grover | Thursday, July 31, 2003 Wednesday, July 30, 2003   (Tuesday's entry) Accruing library fines seems to have become a way of life for me. I think of it as a hire charge, my way of putting something back into the community without it being seen as charity. I call this "covert philanthropy". I wonder if it's tax deductible? posted by grover | Wednesday, July 30, 2003 Tuesday, July 29, 2003   (Monday's entry) Honesty is profoundly important to me, and in the past I have avoided lying at all costs, which has at times made my life rather more difficult than was necessary, whilst not really making much difference to anyone else. I considered copying some compact discs I had bought, and returning them for a refund. This was to be an exercise in transgressing rules, which I sometimes feel I allow to have an undue amount of influence over my life. However, on reflection, I felt that to commit this particular fraudulent act would not benefit me; I would merely be compromising my own principles, with no lesson learnt. Later on, I discovered that a meeting was scheduled at work at the end of the week, requiring me to come in at a time when I was not rostered to be there. Had I been strictly following my rule about honesty, I would have given the real reason that I did not want to turn up, namely that I felt that my time off was mine to use I saw fit, and that my employers had no right to impinge upon it*. Instead, I sent my boss an e-mail regarding some "out of town" appointment that of course did not exist. *I am writing this having left work seven hours early. I felt exhilarhated after sending the e-mail. True, this came in part from the thrill of "doing something wrong", but more from the knowledge that I was acting more flexibly for a change, treating principles as guidelines rather than rigid rules that could not be broken under any circumstances. My usual dogmatic approach would most likely have strengthened my reputation as being stubborn and difficult. On the other hand, my fictional prior engagement would incur a minimal cost to my boss, and still get me out of the meeting. All this provided that I manage to pull this off, my abilities in this area being rather lacking. I shall work to improve my lying and cheating skills. All in the name of personal growth, naturally. posted by grover | Tuesday, July 29, 2003 Monday, July 28, 2003   (Sunday's entry) I was surprised to learn that my cousin is a gore-hound, something that I was known for myself at her age. She also has a love of soft toys, two of which she cuddled whilst enjoying (ficitonal) scenes of bodily desecration on video. Presumably, the ideal gift for her would be a teddy bear with realistic innards. posted by grover | Monday, July 28, 2003 Saturday, July 26, 2003   Having not attended a party since January, I was looking forward to an action-packed weekend, with invitations to no less than three social functions. It was not to be, however, as I was struck down with a mild but debilitating cold. I spent the evening playing snakes and ladders with my cousin, which was pleasant enough. With one day left before I return to work, I am hoping that I shall be well enough tomorrow to partake in some sort of activity outside of the house. I am still in the mood for a party, having geared up for the weekend. However, it is unlikely that I shall be invited to any within the next few hours, and who has parties on a Sunday anyway? The only gathering that I can see myself getting into is some sort of after-church social. True, it's not the best reason for taking up a religion, but I've heard you get free crackers and wine. posted by grover | Saturday, July 26, 2003 Friday, July 25, 2003   M. asked me yet again for help with his pornographic film project, which I refused once more. He expressed surprise that I was not involved in another project that a mutual acquaintance of ours was undertaking, which almost all of my former colleagues from my previous workplace were helping out with. Feelings of guilt started to creep up on me. It does seem sometimes that I am unaware of when it is appropriate to help others. I guess you can't force these things too hard, but I shall try to display a little more goodwill. I started by telephoning M. later to tell him that despite not wanting to help him, I valued his friendship, something that I felt I was not very good at demonstrating. The magnanimity of his response provided a good example for me to follow. I would have said that it put me to shame, but of course that would have been missing the point entirely. posted by grover | Friday, July 25, 2003 Thursday, July 24, 2003   M.(a) scolded me for responding unenthusiastically to her suggestion that we go to see a photographic exhibition. My exact words had been: "Could do," a phrase that apparently drips with disinterest. The precise phrase I had used, in fact, when being invited to Z.'s home a few days earlier. Tempted as I was to rush into the underground station to prevent any incoming calls to my telephone, I loitered for a while in a late-opening bookshop to give Z. a chance to call. Unsurprisingly, I did not receive any word from her. What a relief, I thought, as I headed home, a social disaster avoided. But wait - why had she not called? The cheek of it! Who did she think she was? Fortunately, I managed to clamber out of this analytical mire before being sucked in completely, and resolved not to call Z. for a month. posted by grover | Thursday, July 24, 2003 Wednesday, July 23, 2003   With a Japanese meal steadily gaining more volume in my abdomen, I discussed a project that we are working on with N. and D. Despite the late hour, I harboured the hope that Z. would make an appearance, so that I could ask her to join me the following evening. In due course, both these events took place, with Z. telling me, with not the greatest amount of enthusiasm I have ever seen, that she would call me the next day when she finished work. Immediately after her departure, I realised that I had been going through the motions of asking Z. out because I thought that this was what I ought to be doing. My instincts, however, told me that this was a mistake, that my timing was all wrong. Curses, I thought, what had I done? I wondered if N. and D. had noticed my anxiety at this turn of events. As they are both friends, I suppose that I cannot avoid mixing business and pleasure to a degree. I shall, however, try to separate business from my lust-life. posted by grover | Wednesday, July 23, 2003 Tuesday, July 22, 2003   My cousin told me that a number of her friends, many of whom are lesbians, had asked her if I was gay. Many people have asked me this in the past; either that, or if I am married. What is this quality that I possess in common with homosexuals and married folk? And does this have anything to do with my lack of sexual appeal to women? Then again, no men have propositioned me either. Not that I would have accepted, but it's always nice to be asked. A bus arrived on time, and actually got me to my destination earlier than I thought it would. True, my return journey decelerated to a slower-than-walking-pace crawl, but there is nothing unusual about that. My senses are still reeling from the punctuality of the first bus. I feel that if this could happen, almost anything is possible; if only all people could share in my joy and good fortune! posted by grover | Tuesday, July 22, 2003 Monday, July 21, 2003   My cousin asked me what I was looking at as I perused a manual I had purchased on the subject of increasing success with women. Embarrassed though I was, I told her anyway. I am considering spending a considerable sum on more materials of this nature, as I constantly surprise even myself with my lack of knowledge in this area. What has been holding me back, however, is the feeling that this would somehow be "wrong", and "pathetic". This is partly to do with the idea that was hammered into me since childhood that sex was "wrong", hence my embarrassment in answering my cousin's query. Just as, if not more pertinently, I suppose I am fearful of what people would think if they knew that I needed all this help. I already have a shelf full of self-help books, and I am quite certain that having these proudly on display is unlikely to make a very good impression on any visitors I might have. Of course, this is a pretty poor reason for not trying to improve using whatever resources are available. I would not go so far as to say that what other people think does not matter at all. Rather, I think that it needs not hinder actions that do not have any direct relevance to them. In my case, seeking help from various quarters may improve my dealings with others, but I may choose to be selective in whom I tell about this, because this information might not always be met with comprehension and sympathy, and could adversely affect my relations with certain people. I used to think of this as being rather insidious, that I ought to reveal my "deficiencies" for the sake of "honesty". These days, I take a more pragmatic approach. It would be unreasonable to expect that those who have not been through comparable experiences would understand the reasons that my development has fallen behind in some ways relative to most people my age. We accept the reality we are presented with, and use this as a model for the world at large. posted by grover | Monday, July 21, 2003 Sunday, July 20, 2003   After spending the day with Z., I was slightly bewildered at how I had managed to come away empty-handed (my aim having been to have my hands full of Z.). I would collect my thoughts, I decided, and make what I was sure were bound to be minor adjustments to my behaviour when faced with similar situations in the future. At least I hadn't made a complete fool of myself. Discussing the matter with J. over the telephone, she said that perhaps it wasn't meant to be, that in the optimum case, I would have been invited back to Z.'s home "to look at her film collection or something". I started to feel a little sick as my head turned into a pair of cartoon dumbells, and that sense of foolishness reared its head after all. I had passed up an invitation to do almost this exact thing. At the time, of course, I had thought I had been playing it tremendously cool by not jumping at the chance. No, said J., when someone you are attracted to asks you to their house, you say "yes". She expressed her amazement at my ability to repeatedly miss opportunities to have sex. She went on to say that she herself had been going through a dry spell lately, to which my response, in a game of one-downmanship, was that my own dry spell had lasted my entire life so far. Enough self-flagellation. I guess at the very least, it's an education. posted by grover | Sunday, July 20, 2003 Saturday, July 19, 2003   A colleague to whom I was explaining some technical concept said that I was a good teacher. Looking back at the trail of mistakes I had made that day, the maxim "Those who can't do, teach" never seemed more true. This led onto a discussion about how, in school, the most likeable teachers, the ones whom one could converse with outside of class, and who would typically take a break in the lesson to chat amusingly about some other topic, were always the worst at actually teaching, coming across as incredibly dull when trying to impart information about their chosen subject. On the other hand, the more mean-spirited teachers would often be the best at their job. I wonder if being a well-balanced person prevents one from being a good teacher. I remember one teacher in primary school who used to put her arm on your shoulder when bending down to look the excercise book you were showing her. In this position, one could see the back of her neck, upon which were a number of large moles, which fascinated me. What I couldn't get over was how high they were in comparison to their diameters. They were like dark, geodesic domes dotted across some weird alien landscape. God, she was lovely. posted by grover | Saturday, July 19, 2003 Friday, July 18, 2003   I re-read a passage that recommended not criticising or complaining about others in order to cultivate a healthy mental attitude. I was, therefore, particularly aware of the large number of such comments flying around at work, most of which, I have to say, I found quite amusing. I probably gave in to as many temptations to join in as I resisted. Having not had a decent conversation with my boss since a rather awkward encounter during which she told me she found me "difficult", I told her, on this, the occasion of her twenty-eighth birthday, that she did not look a day over forty, which caused her jaw to drop, and induced loud guffaws from a nearby colleague. My climb down the corporate ladder continues apace. posted by grover | Friday, July 18, 2003 Thursday, July 17, 2003   I don't believe in the existence of a god, and it is my opinion that those things that are considered to be "supernatural" may be beyond our ken, but are no more mystical than the sun which was once worshipped as a deity. I believe in magic, though. By this I do not mean that I consider those who perform tricks with playing cards and pull rabbits out of hats to be in possession of diabolical powers. Rather, I am referring to the magical feeling that one sometimes experiences when seemingly afforded a sideways glimpse into a world beyond human understanding. Some people may experience this from seeing feats of sleight-of-hand, which is fair enough. Everyone knows on a rational level that the tricks themselves are not real; it's in the emotional responses to them that the magic lies. Being moved by a work of art that somehow seems to express a truth beyond mere description, or knowing that you love someone are personal examples of what real magic is to me. On a whim, I took a detour from a walk up the dual carriageway that lead me into a meadow. Wandering about in the general direction that I thought my home would be in, I exited the meadow a few minutes later to find myself in an astonishingly well-to-do area that I did not recall setting foot in before. I was confused. How strange that this sedate, leafy oasis filled with expensive cars and individually crafted houses would exist so close to the cacophonous, industrialised area that I had just been in. Stumbling about for a while, I eventually found my bearings. I was miles from where I thought I would have been. I did not realise that the dual carriageway and this affluent part of town were in the same vicinity, despite having lived in the area for decades. Geography never was my strong point. Of course, a quick consultation of a map would confirm the proximity of the two locations, but it would also take away from that weird sensation that had come over me, that by walking through the meadow, I had passed through some sort of portal into another dimension. posted by grover | Thursday, July 17, 2003 Wednesday, July 16, 2003   I asked permission to unwrap a compact disc in the record shop in order to see whether it was the version that I wanted (some issues of the album had one track missing). This was denied, and with some trepidation, I bought it anyway. As it turned out, it was the correct version. The incident did point up how averse I can be to taking even the smallest risk, a situation that I was working on, but which I have let slip lately. What constitutes a risk differs from person to person, of course. I remember M. thinking it absurd that I considered a night out to be a risk, suggesting instead that I break the law, something I almost never do. The point was that I was facing something that I had fears about, even if others thought it trivial. Despite M.'s recommendation, I shall not be taking to a life of crime, his impending court appearance being a factor in this decision posted by grover | Wednesday, July 16, 2003 Tuesday, July 15, 2003   Right, I thought, tonight is the night! I would telephone Z. and invite her to join me for an evening stroll by the river, culminating in at least a kiss, and hopefully some rampant fiddling as well. My working day finished an hour earlier than hers, but no matter; I could get something to eat in the intervening time. However, as the day drew to a close, there was so little work that I was able to leave early. I could have stayed just to have the end of my shift coincide with Z.'s, but that would have been a neurotic and needy thing to do. Then I discovered that a number of my colleagues were at a nearby bar. Perfect - I could meet with them, and leave for my walk in the knowledge that I had not simply been waiting around doing nothing just so that I could meet Z. Besides, a female colleague who had recently joined the company would be there, and I quite fancied getting to know her better. When I arrived, said colleague was just leaving. Curses, I thought, but it's all right. I am still on track. Time passed surprisingly quickly, with talk of tattoos and photography, and before I knew it, the moment had arrived to call Z. I vacillated nervously for some minutes, then dialled, only to be greeted by her answering service. From this, I deduced that she had probably left work early, and was in some tunnel somewhere on her way home. Yet another miss. What to do now? I had read that when asking out women, it is best to couch the invitation in terms of having them come to join you in an activity that you were going to do anyway. Well, I had intended to be out walking by the river this night, so that is what I would do. I could still enjoy it alone, and indeed I did, highlights including staring in awe at the sheer immensity of the big wheel by the river, and a walk through an almost unlit park. My enthusiasm did wane a little when I managed to get lost later on, and found myself walking a seemingly interminable road in order to regain my bearings, but even that had its benefits, as it gave me a chance to see a part of the city that I was unfamiliar with (and which I intend to avoid in future). I realised that the advice I had seen was not just about seeming cool to the person you are asking out, but about an inner sense of what might be self-worth, strength, or confidence, call it what you will. Had I decided to simply go home after failing to reach Z., I might have felt that my evening was ruined because of this event beyond my control; my plans would have unravelled. However, by following through with what you had set out to do, it becomes clear that you don't always need outside factors to be in place in order to do something fulfilling, and that things such as having other people to share experiences with are the icing on the cake. This elevates the above technique from being some ploy to appear nonchalant to a method for realising that you are asking someone to spend time with you because you enjoy their company, not because you need it. posted by grover | Tuesday, July 15, 2003 Monday, July 14, 2003   To my surprise, Z. appeared on the scene whilst I was conversing with M. After a little pleasant banter, during which time I alluded to intentions of cooking up some interesting activity for us to partake in (which, hours later, I have only just realised meant sex, rather than a visit to the museum), she left. M. and I resumed our discussion, but only after he said he had more to say on the subject of Z., by which I assumed he was going to comment on the way we had been interacting. Instead, he recounted how she had spoken out of turn to him earlier, at which he was clearly annoyed. Although he did not express this in so many words, his dipleasure was quite clear from the way he referred to her as a "crackhead". Despite his ebullience, he really is quite a sensitive fellow. Not that this response was entirely without provocation; Z. can certainly be acerbic. I don't see myself as being particularly good at dealing with difficult people, but I have found that I have tended to form bonds with people who are able to induce quite strong negative reactions in others; I have heard people complain about M., Z. and J., sometimes directly to me. I decided that this would not be the best time to ask M. his opinion on the best way to proceed with Z. posted by grover | Monday, July 14, 2003 Sunday, July 13, 2003   Profoundly moved by a film I had just seen, and feeling the need to simply stop and stare for a while, I leant over a wall by the river, contemplating the texture of the lichen growing on top of it. This diary entry started playing in my head like the narration in a film. A small fly kept crawling in the direction of my arm. I could see the details of its composite eyes in the blazing sunlight. As I moved my arm away, so the fly kept crawling towards it. I realised after a while that it was actually seeking the shade that my arm was providing rather than the arm itself. Feeling at one with nature, my gaze drifted over to a march larger, rather grotesque fly that was occupying a spot further down the wall. When I turned my attention back to my arms, the fly was crawling on my hand. Momentarily startled out of my reverie, I flinched, and the fly flew away. Looking back at the larger fly, I noticed that although it kept flying around, it kept returning to the same part of the wall that it had been on. I waited in hope, and in time my little friend returned. I offered the fly some shade, but it soon left again. With my mind still reeling with ideas from the film, I wondered how this story was going to end. Ending it at this point would not make a good diary entry; no "closure". Eventually, the fly came back yet again, and I felt that this would be a good time to walk away from the wall, where I had been standing for quite some time. Still basking in the moment, I had the feeling that I would like to share it with J. I'll call her, I thought, tell her I love her. But it seemed that speaking to her would break the spell. I took out my mobile telephone, intending to send her a text message. I decided against "I love you", opting instead for an even simpler "I am here". My finger hovered over the keypad. If I sent the message, she would surely call me back, again diluting the very moment I wished to share. I returned the telephone to my pocket, realising that the fact that I had written the message was enough. posted by grover | Sunday, July 13, 2003 Saturday, July 12, 2003   After the moderately lengthy walk to my favourite supermarket, I had intended to disengage my personal stereo in order to pay more attention to the people around me; they are such anti-social devices. However, I made the conscious decision to spend this time alone, and left the music playing. I could have used the time to practice being more comfortable around others, but I felt that I could do with a little practice being comfortable with myself, which is after all a more basic skill. posted by grover | Saturday, July 12, 2003 Friday, July 11, 2003   B. asked me whether the hot weather, with the resulting display of bare female flesh on the streets, made me hanker after a bout of sexual intercourse. I muttered something about these things not being my strong suit, and left it at that. He has no idea of my utter lack of experience in these matters. I asked B. whether he had noted any change in me over the years that we had known each other. Apart from my appearance being somewhat more relaxed, he said that he hadn't noticed anything acute, whilst acknowledging that we all change over time. My life has actually gone through some very significant changes over the past year, with B. himself being a catalyst for my social progress in particular. I was therefore a little surprised at his answer, and quite pleased as well. Some people appear to resist change because they feel that they will somehow compromise something essential about themselves, but this had apparently not happened. Later, I realised that I had not really talked about the more painful aspects of my life with B. despite the long time during which we had been friends. It just never seemed particularly appropriate. Although this might be seen as something that is missing in our friendship, it has in some ways brought out the best in me. For whatever reason, B. just did not seem to notice a lot of the failings I perceived in myself, even when I thought they were glaringly obvious. This kind of acceptance serves as a reminder we create so many of our problems in our minds, and they may have little or no bearing on anyone or anything else. In other words: what use are they? posted by grover | Friday, July 11, 2003   (Thursday's entry) J. enthused at great length, with no small amount of repetition, about her feelings of fondness and intense sexual attraction for two of her shy, awkward, geeky colleagues. She really surprised me by telling me about how she found that kind of person most attractive of all. I could barely fathom it, that that kind of social ineptitude, which J. herself has never suffered from, could be seen as desirable, especially by someone so glamourous, gregarious and attractive. Of course, she was having trouble getting anywhere with one of the men, because of the alienating barrier he put up against others. I took great pains to explain to J. that she was every shy man's fantasy come true, which she had great difficulty believing. Managing not to enter a green-eyed mire of envy, I listened to J. telling me about how incredibly impressed she was by one of these colleagues telling her matter-of-factly he had not had sex. I recall her rather different reaction when I had told her the same thing, but in a slightly roundabout way. Delivery is so important. She also told me that he reminded her of me. This invoked a memory of an incredibly sweet thing she had once said, when she called me on her way home after a date that she said had been unsuccessful because the man was not like me. Yet, I thought, she had seemingly never had any sexual interest in the actual me. When I first met J., I had already shed a lot of baggage pertaining to anxiety in social situations. Had we met a few months earlier, when I was at least as socially crippled as the colleagues she was telling me about, she would have surely been unable to stop herself from jumping me. Or not. I think it boils down to my simply not being her cup of tea. And, although I would of course go to bed with her in an instant, she being female, I suspect that the feeling is reciprocal. It is a "suspicion" because I can barely understand how I could not be overwhelmed with desire for this exquisite-looking and special woman. I had wanted to sleep with her, even planned to, in the very recent past, but whereas before I was always concerned with landing in her mental "zone" of platonic friendship which pours ice-cold water on any chance of sex, she seemed to have now entered my own "zone", not that I realised that I even had one. Being a man, I reserve the right to change my mind about this at the drop of a hat. One possible explanation for this is that I am currently distracted by the considerable charms of Z. I had resolved not to seek J.'s womanly guidance on this matter, as I see little that is typical about her womanhood, a view only reinforced by her revelation that she finds computer-obsessed males with no social skills irresistible. However, I did eventually manage to get some quite specific advice from her about how to proceed that certainly sounded valid, and which I hope will be useful. I chose to withold Z.'s identity from J., who had told me before that there was a certain amount of cattiness between them. Had I not done so, it might have coloured the advice I was given, although on the positive side, I could have used it to fan the flames between J. and Z., which would hopefully have resulted in an entertaining brawl. posted by grover | Friday, July 11, 2003 Wednesday, July 09, 2003   At a gathering to bid farewell to a former colleague of mine who was leaving my old workplace, a number of people observed that during the time they had known me, my sartorial sensibilities had developed from "pocket protector" to quite fashionable. This was gratifying to hear, as I have had fears lately that I was entering a period of stagnation. I remember M. telling me the value of confounding people's expectations, specifically with regard to clothing, and I suppose that this was an example. On the subject of progression, I recall Z. once saying that she could not picture me in any kind of sexual scenario. I believe that this is no longer the case, judging from the way that she lingeringly kissed me behind the ear instead of planting the expected peck on the cheek when I was leaving. I now realise why I have been having such a hard time trying to imagine the two of us in animated conversation, something that has often happened in the past, but which has not taken place for some time now. I had assumed that the lack of conversation was due to my age-old insecurities, but I have changed my point of view. It would actually be inappropriate to start talking with her in the same verbose manner as before, because the way we communicate has moved to a non-verbal area, ground that I am rather unfamiliar with, to the extent that I didn't even realise it was happening. When my relationship with J. was still at a relatively early stage, there was one occasion when she did something similar, greeting me at someone's birthday gathering by rubbing her face against mine, making contact with that special place around the ear, and grabbing my hand and actually wrapping my arm around her waist. Utterly clueless as to how to respond, I extricated myself from this situation within seconds, and later, as we sat outside a cafe into the early hours of the morning (a time that she had announced before that she would be spending with the man she was sleeping with at the time), I listened to her problems, and, in somewhat safer territory, with a table separating us, expressed my affection for her verbally. I suspect that this was the specific point at which I torpedoed any chance of sex with J. Having thus missed what may well have been a turning point, I do not intend to make the same mistake again. However, as the telephone is a mainly verbal form of communication, I am unsure as to how to bring about a situation in which I can continue to explore my relationship with Z. What I am sure of is that the only way is forward, and that attempting to regain a footing on what seems like more solid ground would be a grave error. posted by grover | Wednesday, July 09, 2003 Tuesday, July 08, 2003   A colleague about whom I have mixed feelings (I like him, whilst finding some of his attitudes highly questionable) informed me that he intended to make heavy use of prostitutes on an impending trip to the Far East. He seemed to have some rather stereotypical ideas about women from that part of the world. I suspect that he may have some remaining racist tendencies, though he gives such divergent signals about this that it is hard to tell. Not that I myself am at all free of such prejudices. My colleague explained that people in our own country "just didn't understand" about the sex trade in the place that he was going to be visiting. I found it rather naive that he seemed unaware of the possibility that it was based largely on relatively riich Westerners exploiting the inhabitants of a poorer country. However, I decided to keep this to myself, once again feeling held back by my lack of eloquency. Such high-minded notions probably have little to do with the discomfort I felt about my colleague's Oriental sex tour; any amount of rationalisation boils down to the fact that at some deep emotional level, I feel that there is something "not right" about it. Still, who am I to judge? I have found that whereas it is seen as admirable to stand up for what you believe is right, I am never entirely sure as to what is right or wrong. Indeed, I am not sure whether this in itself is a good or a bad thing. posted by grover | Tuesday, July 08, 2003 Monday, July 07, 2003   J. told me over the telephone that she suspected me of avoiding her. I did not have the heart to tell her that this was true. I used to worry about "imposing" myself on people by seeing them too frequently. At some stage I perceived that this was the result of low self-esteem, and corrected the problem. Lately, though, I have been seeing people less, on the grounds that "absence makes the heart grow fonder". It strikes me now that whilst I thought I was being terribly clever and Machiavellian, this behaviour is more or less what I was doing before; a regressive step, albeit with a different flavour. The problem is that it seems to work. Therefore, I am a little torn between increasing the amount of contact with people, or continuing to "ration" myself out. One thing I have noted is that whilst I am seeing people less, I am more concerned about what I will say when we do eventually meet. When I was seeing them more, I did not worry about this, and of course it was never a problem finding things to talk about. Even as I write this, it is becoming apparent that I am just thinking too much about these things, an old habit that deserves to be put to rest. posted by grover | Monday, July 07, 2003 Sunday, July 06, 2003   In a rare meeting with J.(a), I mentioned that I had never had a "best friend". He asked me, had I not thought of him as my best friend in school? I told him no, we had not shared our lives in a way that would qualify our relationship as having "best friend" status. Recently, I have come to the conclusion that such labels are frequently overrated; J.(a)'s question implied that he had thought of us as childhood best friends, even if I had not, and indeed others in the past had used that term to refer to me, though I had taken it with a pinch of salt at the time. This does not mean that I liked them less than they liked me, just that we had different ways of looking at the same thing. How you categorise a relationship is less important than the relationship itself. Bearing this in mind does seem to make it easier to accept others as they are, and to use the term "friend" to refer to someone I have a fond relationship with, without being overly concerned about whether they are being a "good friend" and living up to the exacting standards I used to have for people. I have found that it can even be a useful exercise to not label a relationship at all in one's own mind in order to get some perspective. However, whilst there are limits to the usefulness of these labels, they are still broadly useful as guides to appropriate behaviour. Please keep this in mind before wrestling your employer to the ground and pinning their arm behind their back as a demonstration of how much you appreciate them. posted by grover | Sunday, July 06, 2003 Saturday, July 05, 2003   Unable to find a velvet garment in a trendy quarter of the city, I headed for another part of town, and ran into an old colleague and his girlfriend on the way. Having thought of him as somewhat mean-spirited when I first knew him, my opinion of him had gone up considerably when he had told me a little about his past, and of his love for his girlfriend. Showing vulnerability can be a great help in bringing people closer together, and at times I have been guilty of being too closed off to others for my own good. Still, I think there is a lot to be said for discretion, and at other times I have gone too far the other way. I shall look into improving my judgement on these matters. As I continued on my way, I passed through throngs of people celebrating their sexual orientation. Music blared out in the park, whilst strings festooned with balloons were draped across streets. Inspired by this, I thought that it was high time I celebrated my own sexuality. However, I shall probably forego the bunting and sound systems and go for a more low-key approach. posted by grover | Saturday, July 05, 2003   (Friday's entry) M. told me how lucky I was to have a wonderful person like J. for a friend. I suppose it's true, though I do find M.'s appraisals of people a little simplistic at times. For example, for various reasons, all of which are pretty accurate, he has a distinct dislike for G., which would explain the rather stilted turn the conversation took when G. chanced to arrive upon the scene and joined in the discussion. Whilst G. does have some annoying tendencies, I am still quite fond of him. Thus, I felt a little torn to find myself sitting between two people whom I liked, but one of whom had ill feelings toward the other. I feel that worlds would also collide if, as was apparently suggested by J. at the last meeting between her and M., who clearly has a lot of affection for her, the three of us got together socially. This is not something I relish the thought of at all, as, although I feel close to both of them, there is a qualitative difference between the relationships I have with each of them. I truly do not know whether this is a healthy attitude or not, or whether it would be better to try to integrate the disparate parts of my existence. I have recently bought some items of clothing which have a distinctive feel to them, one of which had induced Z., whom I believe was quite sober at the time, to rub my chest in an agreeable manner for longer than I am used to. Remembering this, I decided to wear a shirt that was even more pleasant to the touch to a club-like venue where she was to be. Due to the geography of the room, I did not speak to her during the evening. After a pleasant enough, but rather short time had passed, I decided to leave. Z. spotted me going and embraced me, making contact with my top garment. The effect was immediate, and quite beyond my vague adolescent fantasies (which I had never had much faith in in the first place). She seemed to suddenly be caught in some sort of sensual loop, quietly mouthing the word "bye" repeatedly, whilst apparently unable to stop stroking my chest, and getting steadily closer. I chose to make my retreat (in the most subtle way possible), and left to undertake what turned out to be a three-hour journey home. In retrospect, I wondered whether I did the right thing. One thing is for certain: fabric will be a major consideration when making future clothing purchases. posted by grover | Saturday, July 05, 2003 Thursday, July 03, 2003   Having had a particularly difficult shift at work, I felt reluctant to go home. I have found that this is often the case, that after a long day, far from wanting to collapse in a heap, one has the urge to partake in some activity to try bring some degree of balance back into life. Even relaxation requires some effort, it seems. I decided to unwind by going to visit my former workplace. There, D.(a) informed me that he had been forbidden to wear his muscle vest at work. posted by grover | Thursday, July 03, 2003 Wednesday, July 02, 2003   A colleague informed me that my boss had expressed concern that I had issues with having a female employer (a suggestion that he found ludicrous, to my relief). I decided against the plan I had made to start addressing her as "blondie". J. asked me rather frostily why I had not met with her the week before, as I had said I would. My reply, that the drugs I had been prescribed after my tooth extraction had made me ill, was quite true. I neglected to mention that they had not had this effect until the day after I was due to meet her. This answer was rather lacking in courage; there are better ways to handle potential conflicts than avoidance. However, I did feel that had I given the real reason, a combination of laziness and insecurity, I would have induced an awkward situation, and that it was better to ignore my flaky behaviour at that time rather than elaborating upon it, the likely consequence of which was that J. would feel bad, and indeed that I would incur her wrath. Having said that, my excuse worked a little too well, as evidenced by the unmitigated delight displayed by J. at hearing that her prediction that I would be unwell after my oral surgery had come to pass after all. I bit my lip with my remaining teeth. posted by grover | Wednesday, July 02, 2003 Tuesday, July 01, 2003   On three occasions, I saw people in the street walking on crutches, presumably on a temporary basis. They all seemed to be in good spirits. Whilst my own medical issues are rather more permanent, if less acute, it did remind me that we have to make do with the situations we are presented with, and we can either allow ourselves to be worn down by them, or to carry on regardless. I celebrated my renewed enthusiasm for life by purchasing some underwear. posted by grover | Tuesday, July 01, 2003		links my life in prose contact archives