Couples

As we've gone off the beaten path in the last couple of months, I decided to go back to ranting about those things that we should be more well informed about. Here I return to one of my old favourites that we haven't broached yet on this here blog; couples.

Now, I would say that when I was single, I still have a fairly positive outlook. Sure; we all get those days when we wish we had someone, but what the hell... You're single and having much more fun than having to listen to a whinging poof harp on about his 'feelings' and how you're not meeting 'his needs'. It's funny how 'his needs' were just copping off quickly at the beginning of a relationship, then suddenly turn into telling white lies about their insecurities.

That aside, there is nothing worse to a single person than a couple. And it's not because you're jealous, but because they're just so goddam weird. Here I'll take you through the stages of couple-dom and all it's strange rituals.

Remember those times where that crazy single friend you could always rely on who you would go out with and get trashed constantly seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth for a few weeks? It slowly dawns on you, being that you've been out having a laugh and suddenly paused to think "I wonder what happened to such-and-such... I haven't even had a text in a week" you sense that instant conclusion; a man. Yes, they've found a man, and you're back in Lonerville- Population: 1. In other words, you.

So why do people behave like such wankers at the start of relationships? Granted, they want to spend a bit more time with their new beau, but having been on the receiving end of this one too many times, I have now always always made time for my friends when beginning a new relationship. To those of you who think it's fine to swan off and get wrapped up in your own emotions and be all saccharine sweet while trying to swallow each others faces in public, spare a thought for your friend who's at home crying into a bottle of vodka and a Tesco Value microwave meal, probably tagliatelle with it's lukewarm white mush and rubbery pasta, for one. Yes, for one!

Then, after a few weeks or months, the first argument inevitably happens. And who do they turn to? That's right; their single friend. and you think "For fuck's sake, not only am I not in a relationship, I'm not in your relationship, so how the hell can I tell you what's happening, huh? Last week I was at home watching the Eastenders omnibus a good way through a bottle of Absolut, and now all of a sudden I'm your best friend again?"

And what happens after they've resolved the argument? We're back to crying about Dot Cotton's dilemma because we're fucked off our face on a Sunday afternoon.

Worse still is when couples get to years. After years of being together, they suddenly merge into one person. We're going to Montpellier this summer. We like Cherry Cola. We had an orginal thought the other day, didn't we? And so they start to talk to you about sofa purchases which, apart from that only being of interest to a DFS salesman, you've probably never had to consider in your life. And even if you had, you probably wouldn't be so boring as to talk about it. Besides, by this point you're probably so bored of the fact that every time you invite your friend out, their boyfriend has to be there, or them spending so much time with their other half that you've given up and gotten a new life.

Weddings mark the death of friendships sometimes...

So next time you get into a relationship, consider your single self and don't be so damn limp next time!

Here Come The Pink Squishies...

Awful term, isn't it? I'll explain. Once my friend turned round to me and sighed heavily and I said "What's wrong?" and she said "I've got the pink squishies." I laughed and I said "What?"

And she said, "There's a guy I really like, and I hate it. I really, really like him and I hate it."

Like all embittered fags, being single is really, really easy for me to cope with. Making snide comments at couples, other people's relationships, how untrustworthy men are... They're safe, and what's more it's a defence mechanism. I'm open and self-aware enough to know that it's all in self defence.

And now I have the pink squishies. And I hate it.

So bad are these ones that I broke the horrible golden rule and called him twice in one day. And suddenly you start to empathise with all those guys that never stopped hassling you, or that you may have branded a stalker. It's not an act of desperation, it's the fact that this feeling sends you so nuts and you behave so out of character that you wonder what the hell you're doing. Rationality is thrown out of the window for an impulsive high.

The worst thing is, he still wants to go out on a date with me, which means I haven't scared him off. Which also means there's a chance that he might really like me too.

So I'm sat here with love-sickness and absolutely hating myself for it. Ever the true Gemini, part of me is allowing myself to fall, and the other half just wants everything to go back to normal again. Half of me is airy-fairy and romantic, the other half is wanting to laugh at myself.

Because the worst thing is we all know that the pink squishies are a prelude to a heartbreak.

Life Is Not a TV Show

Stating the obvious, isn't it?

Talking to a friend the other day about 'culture' (I know, it's deliciously pretentious. I can't help myself sometimes), the main question was why are people so averse to contemporary art, or fringe theatre? And from fringe theatre, we started talking about the next logical progression; the Jeremy Kyle Show. I actually can't watch this show because it makes me feel like I'm squeezing cotton wool whilst having to listen to someone scrape their fingernails down a chalkboard. There are two problems I have with this show:-

1) If I'd done something so despicably bad like gotten pregnant (granted, chances are low) by another man, or conned my partner into thinking we were in much less debt than we actually were, or was having an affair, there is no way in hell I'd parade my misery publicly for the entertainment of the British masses.

2) The guests are chavvy, the audience is quite chavvy, the viewers at home are probably quite chavvy, and Jeremy Kyle is such a self-righteous bastard that I wonder if he will ever get a date again (except with a chav) because of his smug sense of patronising self-satisfaction that his 'tough love' stance always works. Just imagine him having an argument with his wife; he'd never admit he was wrong, but probably bombard her with platitudes until she finally submitted and decided that leaving the petrol tank half empty wasn't worth him harping on for hours about how hard done by he was and how he managed to pull himself out of it.

Poor woman. By the way he's been divorced; I would probably have to say enough is enough at some point as well.

Anyway, the cringe-worthingly poor display of daytime television seeps from TV into the real lives of people. I hope it's not just me, but don't you always have that one friend who always has a drama in their life? A drama that seems so utterly simple to sort out (because, usually, it's by their own blundering fault they've got into the mess), and yet it merits harping on for half an hour about how confused they are?

Of course, as friends, we lend an ear and give them our honest (sometimes sugar coated, sometimes giving Jeremy Kyle a run for his money) opinion and hope they learn. Pat them on the shoulder and send them fresh, back to their dilemma. The only fault with this is that people are obsessed by drama and scandal.

I honestly wonder what happened to the days of the good, old British 'stiff upper lip'; where everything was kept in dignified silence. This, of course, excludes times of real dilemma and emotion. I'm not vindicating bottling everything up forevermore. But since the emergence of soaps and daytime chat shows, people seek excitement by getting themselves into messy predicaments.

Anyway, you can hardly blame them sometimes. Life can be so utterly dull that creating stress can add a bit of zing to what was an otherwise boring lifestyle. But I cannot, in fact I refuse, to believe that with the amount of cheating that goes on is solely a development of modern society. In fact, I also refuse to believe that those people who have cheated were so 'deeply in love' with their partners in the first place.

There are always exceptions, and I think it's important to note. Like sleeping with someone drunkenly; we can all make a mistake. Or perhaps it takes someone to make someone realise that they weren't in love with their partner in the first place.

I think it points towards a depressing ideal perpetuated by shows such as Sex and the City and Ally McBeal; we need someone to be someone. Without someone, you're no-one. So people often 'settle', claim they're 'in love' and then someone who really knocks them off their feet and they think 'Boy, how wrong was I?'. And how often have you told someone you're single and they look at you like a leper? Or your friends try and fix you up so you can be 'just as happy as they are'?

Also, people are under the misguided notion that they will be saved from themselves eventually.

"Oh, it doesn't matter if I smoke this crack; someone's bound to save me from myself eventually"

"Oh, it doesn't matter if I put this one thing on my credit card; someone's bound to save me from myself eventually"

Just like in the Hollywood films, right?

Right?

(One of) The Problems With Romance in the Gay World

Someone said a long time ago that romance was dead. I'm not sure to what extent I believe this, as if a lovely new beau surprised me by buying me a CD (I can never have too many CDs) I would take it as a romantic gesture. I also describe myself as having a 'romantic viewpoint' on life, meaning that I walk around and go "Oh, look at the Thames, look how the raw sewage really compliments the contrasting murky grey... Oh, how I love London".

And, as misguided and brainwashed as I am, I believe that one day someone could waltz into my life and sweep me off my feet.

However, this is misguided. Take for example the BRAND NEW homosexual drinking establishment that has just opened in London; 'Profile'. This bar has been set up by the people who run Gaydar (come on now boys, don't look at me and say "What's Gaydar?". If you don't have a profile, you've almost certainly heard about it) and, may I add, replaced a rather lovely cocktail bar called '6 Degrees' (cocktails were expensive but lethal!). Profile boasts FREE INTERNET ACCESS LOLZ

So what's the betting that 'Profile' is now going to remove ANY social element of going to a gay bar, sometimes the last bastion of hope for those in singledom? Who are you going to be making eyes at if their eyes are permanently glued to a computer screen?Call me a technophobe, but this isn't just about 'Profile', this is a phenomenon that sweeps the gay nation.

No-one talks to each other.

Okay, okay... So there might be the odd time where you throw yourself in the direction of the desired object (and please, for those of you who just attach yourself like a leech, can you provide sick bags for those around you? It may feel good to do, but it's disgustingly nauseating to watch), and ask their name et cetera, but it does take A LOT of guts to do that. Kudos to the boys out there reading who feel comfortable enough to do that. But generally, gays are very timid and judgemental. I have made eyes at so many people in bars, but following through? It very rarely comes from either side.

Additionally, if someone were to approach you in a bar, you either go to mush and they walk away, or warning sirens go off in your head saying "Abort! Abort! Abort!". And when you approach someone else, you get that feeling, as you crack a joke, that you're going down as well as a knackered lift.

And what about on the Tube? Isn't it a bit sad that they have those 'missed connections' boards because we've reached a day and age when no-one communicates. Alarmingly, in the gay community, we are also becoming more and more technologically dependent. A lot of people meet their dates through various websites, chat forums, text based services et cetera... Unfortunately for us, that's because we can't ask the question "Are you gay?" for fear of someone taking mortal offence.

So your eyes meeting across the room with some tall, dark and handsome stranger as 'Close to You' by The Carpenters plays, and you suddenly move towards each other in a conveyor belt motion in soft focus? Forget it.

But equally, you can probably forget meeting the love of your life on the internet. Sure; it works for some people, but weigh up the amount of times you've chatted to someone for ages and been disappointed in real life with the amount of times you've fallen madly, head over heels in love?

Exactly.

So basically, romance in the gay world? Well, the odds are against us. With only 10% of the population describing themselves as "of alternative sexuality" and only 6% in total likely to be gay men, it suddenly seems a lot to ask. Considering you have to find them attractive, and they have to find you attractive, be compatible personality-wise, share common interests, and then trust them, love is a very small statistic for us, if you bear in mind how many people we have to choose from.

To bring me back to my original point, Hollywood has given us all (gay and straight) false expectations of romance and romantic feelings. We hope for awkward chance encounters, and what we get is usually structured, pre-planned formality, especially where 'arranging to meet off the internet' is concerned. Because the gay population is so small (even smaller in some more rural parts), our chances of romance are small, and our failing communication skills and shyness are a hinderance.

But the worst aspect of the human condition keeps us all going; hope.

The Rant: Why do women think they get it bad?

I was going to post this on www.ihatemen.org, but decided to treat whoever reads this to it instead:-

Why is it only bitter women? Some of your gay brethren get equal, if not worse treatment, from men.

At least women get a little bit of respect. At least they'll try and romance you for a couple of days first. We're put in the situation where, if you don't put out straight away, you're labelled 'frigid' or a 'prude' and if you do you're left with the door slamming in your face and a piece of paper with their MySpace address on; you know, so they can ignore you for the rest of forever, but then you get to spend time looking at those stupid questionnaires they bulletin and find out the most traumatic thing that happened to them at 3 years old.

If you ask me, they should be more traumatised about how shockingly bad in bed they usually are. Never thought men had to fake orgasms? Sometimes I've just rolled over and said "Don't bother." I find it saves us both a lot of time and effort.

And then you're laughing and joking with a girl friend and they say "Oh, why are all the best men gay?" and you laugh, but inside you're thinking "No... Just no." Talk about homophobia; *I* hate gays. Why? Because I have to date them, and I think that gives me the God given right to hate them more than those bloody Neo-Nazis out there. So you think bumming is wrong? Well, try being kicked out of bed at 3am and wondering round the streets of London trying to get a cab home because they're 'done with you', like some kind of used Kleenex that they can dispose of. It's pretty hard not to hate them after that.

What's even worse is that your straight friends will introduce you saying "This is my friend... He's gay". And you think "Oh, thanks... Because there's nothing else interesting about me at all... Like the fact I play guitar, or write music. No. It's who I sleep with that *really* matters". Coupled with that, at parties straight friends will introduce you to the most vile person and say "This is Kevin; he's gay too. I thought you two would hit it off."

Why? Because we both like to sleep with men? Well, James and Simon both prefer brunette women, but I don't see you introducing them to all brown haired uglies in the room. Thanks. For nothing.

Added to that, you get the people who think you're some kind of fashion accessory. "Oh, you're gay?" a blonde haired girl will shriek at you. "We can read Vogue together and listen to Kylie... You must like Kylie all gays do.. And go shopping, and check out guys and..."

And you think "Actually, I hate Kylie. I hate shopping, and I've never read a fucking copy of Vogue in my life and I'm not about to start. Thanks all the same, but perhaps you need to spend some time with some real gay men instead of running off that little gay stereotype in your empty, pretty, little head."

I digress. Needless to say in my dating history has diminished my faith in ever finding a man who is intelligent, or even just half decent. Instead it's a series of games including not calling you, then calling a month later because they were probably seeing someone else at the time and wanted to keep you onm the backburner, those famous "I'm not really looking for a relationship, but I hope we can be friends" words and, of course, I think we're moving too fast. Moving too fast? Isn't that the kind of insight you require before you sleep with someone? Before the romantic days out in Kensington Gardens?

And "I'm not looking for a relationship"? Well, neither was I! I didn't even mention the 'R' word that seems to have men running for the hills. It was *you* who said it, and now you make *me* look like the bunny boiler? Which, I add, is probably what he tells all of his friends down the pub when they ask him.

So thus ends my rant. I just wanted to get my POV across

The Single Cycle

And no; I'm not talking about how you should wash your whites. It's the life cycle of the single gay man.

1) Fresh out of a relationship, with residual bittnerness and angst dealt with, the gayer realises he can now go on the pull again and have lots of casual sex with people that mean nothing to him

2) Gets bored

3) Tries dating, and remembers how much dating sucked in the first place B.B. (Before Boyfriend)

4) Thinks about calling ex, but is disturbed by cute guy at the bar, and remembers his options are open now

5) Sleeps with cute boy at the bar

6) Feels good about oneself then lapses into residual boredom feeling

7) Tries dating again, and remembers how dating didn't really work B.B.

8) Out of frustration calls ex and sleeps with him, consequently feeling guilty and confused having to deal with the 'why aren't we together' feeling from one or other partner. Lies to ex and said there have been no others since they split to paper over the cracks

9) Tries dating, but this time decides not to sleep with them on the first date, and then realises how that didn't really work B.B.

10) Lapses into apathy, and realises he can go on the pull again and sleep with lots of people he may or may not remember the day after

11) Apathy gives way to bitterness and frustration. Tries to change appearance/ life/ sexuality in order to give a fresh start and a new focus

12) After distracting himself for 4 months, he posts an internet ad including such phrases as "bored of the scene" and "generic guy seeks similar"

13) After waiting a month and still receiving no replies, reverts to step 1)

The cycle is usually broken at step 11, when gayers usually decide there life is actually okay and are too busy becoming noveau indie/ setting up performance art nights in fields in the Midlands/ chasing after a girl when some guy called Joseph waltzes into the bar and coincidentally seems to like the same things you do, and shags like a rampant rabbit running off of a car battery.