Well that was a long time between posts now, wasn’t it? Oh, I apologise. It has been a bit manic around these here parts of late.

Firstly, I have been going on lots of lovely dates with the lovely tall person. Well, that was until he disappeared off to the Mediterranean to continue filming the film he is in. However, he is back on Sunday… so, I aim to re-commence lovely dates at that point.

Secondly, I have been extremely busy with the day job shouting at Architects.

Thirdly, I have been busy socialising. And have realised that I am probably going to have to become a hermit over the next month as to be able to afford some kind of Christmas. This was an accounting error on my part, and it will be interesting to see how this plays out. I always manage to be my most skint during the run-up to Christmas, which often results in family and friends getting the shittest of presents.

I think I bought my mother an umbrella a couple of years ago. Yes, an umbrella. And not even a particularly nice one. She feigned delight. She couldn’t open it indoors, which would have been bad luck, so to test out her gift she had to stand outside the front door, in Yorkshire, in December, in her pyjamas, to see if the damn thing worked. It did, so all was well.

My father visited London on Saturday, so I took him to my fabulous private members club with a pool on the roof for lunch. It was kind of a ‘just look at me now’ moment that I had been really looking forward to, and it didn’t disappoint. Plus, he paid. Which is a bonus. He brought his new wife along too. Which was. Um. Nice.

Oh, and the weekend before last it was the housemate (S)’s birthday. We all got terribly drunk and had too much sherbert (sp?). Funny story; I took the tall actor home with me that night, and being too drunk we didn’t do any of the sexing, but instead fell asleep. I was sure I had fallen asleep with my boxers on, but woke up naked. The tall actor gently informed me the next morning that he had been woken up by a randy little me attempting to initiate sexual relations. Unfortunately, I was fast asleep at the time. I have now been branded the ‘sleep rapist’, which isn’t really a reputation I want to have. Especially now that I know this snippet of information has leaked to one of my most big-mouthed friends. Anyway, apparently the actor had seen a television documentary about sleep walking earlier in the week, and there was a snippet about ‘sleep sexing’ and he had been informed that it was a bad idea to try to wake someone up while this was happening as it could result in the sleep walker, or sexer, becoming violent.

This petrifies me. And I wonder how many people I have had sex with without realising it. I have shared beds with straight friends, for goodness sake!

Anyway, he wants to see me again, so I clearly haven’t scarred him too deeply.

The following day the best friend D and I travelled from London to the South Coast in our hungover states to see Eddie Izzard play his home-town of Bexhill. Bexhill is, well, quiet. There was not too much for two London gays to do of an afternoon. We walked up and down the pebble beach. And then it got dark.

We got home at 1:30am.

How are you people?