It hurts, you know? To see pictures of yet another happy outing that you've been excluded from. Friends call. Friends invite. Friends send you messages via SMS, instant message, email or any one of the billion other avenues of comunication available to us nowadays, messages that aren't replies. You might be civil when we run into each other in public, maybe even friendly, but there is only one conclusion that I can draw from your total lack of effort when it comes to me.

We are not friends.

I really have to stop using my LJ to vent...

So according to Last.fm I'm real gay. Who knew?

A strange thing happened a week or two ago.

A guy in a relationship wanted to have sex with me, without his partner knowing. Then, a few hours later I received the same offer from another guy. This made me wonder, do I have the words "dirty little secret" stamped on my arse? This has happened too many times and, while it has resulted in some rewarding relationships, it's mostly just caused badness. Naturally.

So I've made a decision. I'm nobody's dirty little secret... any more. I've known for a while that my morals are a little askew and I guess I've even reveled in that fact, but perhaps I'm finding out why society's little rules exist. Maybe it's time to start giving people the respect they deserve.

I even told the guy I've been shagging semi-regularly that if he wants to shag again then it will not be our secret, we will both have the right to talk about it with others (if we wish). And that "arrangement" wasn't hurting anybody. Quite the contrary...

Then I had to go and kiss my ex's new boyfriend. Granted, they probably have an open relationship like he and I had, but still! I really do have a way of complicating the uncomplicated.

Why is the baby making that noise, she'll ask, taking it personally... I'm quick to comfort her and explain that Marlo is not crying at anyone in particular, it's just that sometimes it's sad to find oneself sitting in a pile of their own shit. - Heather Armstrong, here

Oh, how I love dooce.com.

Dear Apple,

I've been seeing little smiley-type icons appearing all over the place while using my iPhone, so I asked someone what they were. Turns out they're Emoji, icons that are already built into each and every iPhone but are hidden on Western handsets. I figured I'd activate them, for shits and giggles, and searched in the App Store for them. I found plenty of companies wanting to charge me, but apparently no kind users who had made an app that simply activates them at no charge.

Until I searched online. Why decline the submission of an app that simply activates a feature you chose to hide? For money? That's pretty darn low.

I, like anybody willing to do a quick search, did not pay.

Yours in irritation,
Ben

Gay love to coachbear for this one.

I let my beard get really long because he liked it. I quite liked the way it looked, but it was such a distraction. I often referred to it as "the playground on my face" because I'd constantly be playing with it.

Today I bought a pair of hair clippers. What do you think?

So there's this dance radio station I like to listen to, and I had it on in my car the other morning (I decided to drive to work because I've run out of stuff to read on the tram, screw global warming). Only, where I live the station's frequency seems to be ethnic music (straight out of ethnia), and it's not until I get closer to work that the station changes to dance music. Somewhere in the middle the two stations fight for airtime and if you're inching along in traffic, as I was, it makes for some very interesting mixes.

Think Bollywood meets Giorgio Moroder.

My 28th B'day

I seem to be too busy with the business of living my life to have the inclination or time to write about it. But I'm still managing to get some happy snaps! Here's a couple of Flickr sets for you, my 28th birthday was closely followed by a week in Tasmania. Enjoy! (Click the pics to see the sets)


Tasmania '09

Dear Journal,

I have shit to tell you. Like, tonnes of shit. Great steaming piles of the stuff.

Let's talk. Soon.

Ben

I have boob-sweat. At work. In the friggin air-conditioning!

I'm neurotic. I'm obsessive. I overthink everything and have difficulty with everyday situations. Basically, I'm crazy. But... I'm perfectly sane.

I've just started reading a book called Look Me in the Eye by John Elder Robison. It describes how people with Aspergers (a mild form of Autism) have difficulty relating to those around them due to an inability to respond to verbal and body-language cues. For instance, the expected response to, "I just had my hair cut" might be a compliment or comment on the new look, whereas a person with Aspergers might respond, "I'm thirsty" or "I like cheese". It's completely involuntary, the person with Aspergers does not realise they have just changed the topic completely and basically killed the conversation, they just lack a certain ability that others take for granted. I can relate.

I vaguely remember being tested for Aspergers about a decade ago. Well, Aspergers and a bunch of other things, after I'd badgered a school counselor long enough that they finally agreed to try to figure out what was wrong with me. After all, there had to be a reason why I had so much difficulty making friends and conversing with others, and why I was constantly depressed. I had to know what it was and how I could fix it. I was so shattered when she found nothing. I think that was when the first suicidal thoughts started.

I never did get a diagnosis, or explanation, but I did find some fantastic prescription pills that keep me happy. And I think I'm finally starting to understand that we're all a little nuts. We, each one of us, have problems. I think that this is important to remember, particularly when I see others making friends and conversing with others without difficulty.

The man I lost my virginity to is being charged with the murder of a man in Sydney's gay district 17 years ago. I'm not entirely surprised.

Dear iPhone,

I know we haven't been together for long, but I really feel there are some things I need to tell you.

These are the things I don't like about you:
iTunes. I knew long ago that I hated iTunes, but having to sync with it in order to move files just plain pisses me off. Give me a goddam interface that gives me some control - a normal window would suffice. But then, I really should have expected this kind of thing from Apple.
I have to buy ringtones? I wish death by syphilis upon the jerk who came up with that idea. I have hundreds of songs, why must I buy ringtones when any one of these would do? Had I known about this little "feature" prior to purchase there would have been no purchase, that's how much this chaps my ass.

Conversely, these are the things I quite like about you:
WiFi. I have to say, this is a brilliant feature, I wish years of great sex upon the person who though of that. Although, I kinda wish I'd known this before I signed up for a huge data plan that I barely use.
Apps and gadgets, particularly the ones made by users, are tres fun. I love the fact that I can identify music just by pointing my phone at it, and the electronic shopping lists are dinky-yet-useful.
True internet on the go. Seriously, nobody likes that WAP bulltoot. Why use intarweb lite when you can have the delicious full fat variety?

Others may complain about your unusual and sometimes difficult to use touch interface, but they're just being whiny bitches. I'd never admit this if asked, but I think I really like you iPhone, interface issues and all.

But seriously, ditch the silly ringtone/message tone restrictions.

Sincerely,
Ben

Well done. Really, well done.

"You want to go to the sauna?"
"No."
"Why not?"

Good question.
This question was asked of me today. Rain also called me the other day and asked if I was okay. See, Rain and I used to chat regularly on bearwww.com, so it wasn't surprising that he was the first to notice that I'd deleted my profile from the site (along with every other "hookup site" profile I had). I told Rain I was fine, and he and I were still good. I just didn't want to be on those sites any more.

Earlier that week, on my last date with Viron, I made a decision. I told him that I didn't see a relationship in our future. I told him he had taught me a lot about myself, reminded me what it was to have respect for myself and, most importantly, reminded me that rooting around is fun at first, but not necessarily good for you. But he's not the guy for me. Viron hinted that sex with him might be a possibility, but he didn't see the point and I didn't pursue it. I didn't pursue it.

It would appear I have lost my appetite for meaningless sex (alert the press!). I can hear all of my friends saying PFFT, but I think I may have finally gotten over it. So, hookup spots and profiles are out, gay pubs have lost their attraction, I'm even currently being fussy about who gets a date with me.

When did I grow up?

I'm reading the third book of Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Trilogy series, "Brisingr". In one of the chapters Paolini switches from Eragon's first person perspective (as he often does) to the dragon Saphira's. Saphira remarks that "two-legs" are prone to dithering and filling the air with inconsequential words. At this point I feel a growing need to write to Paolini and express to him just how spot on he is. This book, like so many other books by American writers, dithers far too much. Perhaps not as much as the previous book in the series, but it's giving it a red hot go.

I think Douglas Adams said it best in "So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish": It's guff. It doesn't advance the action. It makes for nice fat books such as the American market thrives on, but it doesn't actually get you anywhere.

Here here, Mr Adams. We all miss you.