Hunter and prey

I snogged the hottest guy in the club last night. Twice.

The evening started off real slow. I went to pay off my tab, but that place was a little quiet. It was more of a bar setting: just talk. I wanted to dance, so I left after a while, went to the place that's slowly becoming my base.

That was pretty quiet too, but the people were different. It was, well, to put it succinctly, apparently the night of the limp wrists. But to be honest, I can live with that, because I know how to handle those guys.

The place filled up slowly, and more normal looking people started coming in. I hit the beer, can't remember why. Somehow I ended up on the dance floor.

Suddenly our bodies are grinding together to Kylie Minogue's Slow. I had seen him before, one of four very hot, young friends, but now he was alone. Very lean, tight body; diamond studs, my weakness; short brown hair; leather bracelet. I've hit the jackpot. I wasn't real good, because I was in shock he was doing this to me, of al people. But I grabbed him and held him real close. So nice to hold by the hips.

The song ends and I'm turbocharged. He moves off to dance with some girl, but the next song isn't very erotic anyway and I decide to get more beer.

Later, at the edge of the dance floor, I see him again. We must have talked for a bit, but I can't remember a word of it. He gives me the look that melts all ice. I've seen the look before, all the fems seem to master it. So, on cue, I move in and we kiss. I'm willing to bet it was the first make-out in the club that night.

It was controlled, a little chaste, but there were hints of more to follow. A little tongue, but not all out. Real good: the suggestion is often more exciting than the open, all-out grappling.

He moves off to the bathroom and immediately an even younger kid moves in. We get to talk, he's nice-looking with an eyebrow piercing (not my favourite) and a fag hag in tow which is slightly disconcerting. If he wants to make out with her smiling at us, he chose the wrong person.

He tells me he just came out of a relationship of two and half years (internal groan, another rebounder) and is clearly waiting for me to move in. The girl, who's huge by the way, just stands there and smiles like a goof.

But my mind is on Hottie, who could return from the bathroom at any moment. There really was nothing wrong physically with Eyebrow Piercing, but Hottie was my prey and I wasn't looking for a replacement.

I find Hottie at the bar, which is two steps away anyway. This time, we really talk. He's 22 (yeah!), from the next sizeable town due South (Yes! From my province!) and we exchange names, but honestly I forgot his. I move in and we kiss again, again very tender but with a little more tongue. He asks me if I live nearby (hell yes!) and suddenly the logistics of what could happen all race through my mind: cabs, lack of condoms, single bed.

Then his friends return and it is all over. He rejoins them, then ends up dancing very sensually on the stage, facing me. I suspect Hottie has a boyfriend, LOL. But Eyebrow Piercing and Fag Hag are back with a vengeance.

I can't remember the conversation that follows because my eyes and mind are all focused on the stage. To boot, an older Belgian guy decides this is the time to move in and tell me I'm "real good looking" (I'm not, good-looking is mind fucking me on the stage). He's nervous and not doing a good job, and the timing honestly stinks.

Seeing Hottie and friends preparing to leave, I decide to call it a night too and head home at around four. Even the bitch at the counter smiles at me when I leave.

I'm pretty sure he only kissed me last night. This little fact excites me no end.

I think Gay Banker is right about the confidence mirror.

Leave Jody Foster alone, fuckers!

So they have opened the pack hunt on Jody Foster. Just great. They're looking for another figurehead, and guess what? Jody ain't biting.

I know she's had a relationship with Cydney Bernard for at least 14 years. Good for her! I know she gives loads to the Trevor Project , a fact that speaks volumes about her kindness. But she has no obligation to come out to the world at large.

Apparently she's "functionally out", meaning friends and family all know. This is the stage us mere mortals only hope to reach sometime in the future, hopefully sooner rather than later. Announcing it to the world in some magazine is probably not on the cards in our case.

For one of my favourite actresses, it can only be different. I know people have curiosities to satisfy, but this is different: it's pressure from people from her own community who should know better and could respect privacy a little more. Mind you, she doesn't deny anything, she just refuses to talk about it. I wonder if it's this little detail that infuriates so many.

Anyway, this little outing hype is making me sick. Malevolent senators are one thing, but don't touch Jody Foster.

Why don't you ever stop...

A pretty sight I may not be,
not always right but I mean well
Something's wrong so come on and
tell me what it is you need
Don't pick a fight, not in the mood,
it's not the time or the place well
What's got in you? You seem to
make it up to bring me down

And I know you can't let go
but let's make the most of the weekend
You pretend the clock's gone back again,
I'll pretend it's nothing if you just stop

Just stop
Why don't you ever stop?

Yeah, still addicted to the Ghosts album.

I guess I have a date on Saturday. No, not with Crush. I haven't closed that door, but the hurricanes in his mind are a little too much for me. Do keep him away from me though.

I met this guy through the internet, the local queer "listings". Seriously, if you meet someone new in this country, that's what you do: trace him on gay.nl. I didn't want to date through the internet, but Crush encouraged me to register and chat through it. So why not?

My inbox flooded within minutes. So I got to talk to a local boy, one with his own apartment in the centre (check!), close to the strip (double check!), his own business (triple check but requiring double checking) and calling me cute (oh-oh).

He's a little older (double oh-oh), but looks real good (for his age) and I'm winding him around my finger already (I know, Lolita syndrome). But I need that level of control, it wouldn't work any other way.

Technically we only agreed to have a beer together (in my case a Bacardi cola, without a straw, please, I might be gay but am quite capable of drinking from a glass) but he would have liked me to come around last night (hell no) and it will be at Crush's favourite joint, to which I have been enough lately and I have a tab to pay off at another place anyway, so that could be interesting or at least mildly awkward (alcohol will prevent that feeling). And he keeps on sending little... well, almost love notes, wishing me a good day etc.

He has a little bit of the gay self-hatred I sense a lot in my local community (the joint we're going to meet is too queer for his taste but he visits every week) but seems at least educated. Oh yeah, he "isn't looking for anything"... right. I made fun of that search strategy straight away.

I also chatted with a really cute, 22 year old kid of Indonesian descent (so hot), but it makes me kind of feel like a dirty old perv. Even so, he approached me. I'll keep in touch with him anyway: he really is eminently fuckable.

Coming out on Facebook

Following the example of one of my high school gay buddies, I flipped the switch. Yes, I'm now listed on Facebook as single and interested in men.

To pre-empt what I was sure would be a coming shit storm, I decided to go out on Sunday. It got pretty wild actually, in a platonic way. Shots of some awful green stuff, drinking games, local gossip and when an older straight couple entered the bar and after some time had to be explained what type it was, the woman, amazed, asked the lot of us:

Are you gays then?

So, amused, we screamed "yes", all at once. Great fun, a little out and somewhat proud. And all of us looked normal, inconspicuous.

Back to Facebook. My profile changes were on the mini feed. 48 Hours and counting, not one reaction, zilch. I have a sneaking suspicion some of the girls might be actively messaging each other about this (normally they would) but there has been no public response at all.

So either it was obvious all along or nobody really cares.

Either way, it has a somewhat relaxing effect. The closet makes us think the whole world is interested in our sexuality and everyone is trying to get at our innermost, darkest secrets. This is likely to be nonsense. And it makes sense: do you really care what most of your platonic friends get up to in bed?

It gives me courage to take the next step. Not sure who the victim will be or how I will frame it, but I'm committed to taking it.

Still, placating my mother's probable worries will be hardest.

Ghosts - The World is Outside

A guilty pleasure. Happy, danceable, eighties-flavoured pop music. Synths. I'm a sucker for synths.

I had heard this song on the radio at work a lot, but never caught the title or band. Every time it was played the news would come on afterwards. I thought it sounded like Nelly Furtado. I only discovered today the singer is a guy who's perfectly capable of moaning in the same, sexy way.

Then, yesterday, sitting in a gay bar in town, it came on. I just had to know. This was my chance.

So I asked the owner about it and explained about the jinx preventing me from getting this tune. Turns out he had heard it himself on the radio, loved it, and decided he had to add it to the play list, which he normally doesn't do. So I guess with my taste in music I fit right in.

The album's brilliant too. Get it if you can, it makes the sun shine in your head.

I have only just started recovering from taking shots of some filthy green stuff I'm betting was absinthe.

Keeping your parents afloat

Head over to Big Guy Lost in the World: I can so relate to this post. I've been here myself, but it was by no means my mom's fault. My dad quit his job intentionally to cut off our money.

I guess I'm lucky that the situation resolved itself. Still, it's good to find someone with the same experience, and the same sexual issues too.

Disappointing "date"

So my crush texts me he'll be back from a holiday (what?) on Saturday and probably go to one of the clubs if he's not too tired. I had decided to go anyway, so I'm already there when he texts me that he's on his way.

He walks in, goes straight over to me and it's immediately clear he's had a rough time. Apparently he had met someone back in April and they decided to go on that trip together but he didn't want to tell me about this. The trip was, according to him, a major disappointment. We talk about it a little bit but he's clearly very tired and not overtly interested in small talk.

We talk, I make a move but I get no response. Fine, I understand he might not be in the mood. He tells me I'm obviously trying to move on with my life. Interesting observation. We talk some more and finally I, buzzed as I am, ask him if I can kiss him.

Silence.

I then tell him I like him. I'm shocked about this myself, so I start blabbering to compensate for my own stupidity.

He says he's had a tough time recently. He's not looking for a relationship (rebound alert!), and makes a few other comments which prove how confused he is about life.

I tell him I understand. Hell, I've been there. After a short, awkward silence he moves off to talk to the lady that sells the drinks tokens. This I read as rejection, but I'm not so sure about that now.

I go back to the dance floor, notice someone is giving me "the look", but my heart's not in it and I decide to call it a night.

I'm not one to give up easily, but this is just a little too much of the mixed signals game. Moving on would probably be easiest, but I recognise he needs a lot of time. I'm bound to bump into him again anyway.

What to do?