Gay – the new ‘black’

First, there was Mine Vaganti (Loose Cannons is the English title but the direct translation, apparently, is Wandering mines (as in sea mines used in war)).  Then there was some famous latin-pop singer.  It seems there’s a lot of it about!

Then there are the discussions about it.  First the Italians talking about the film.  The reaction, in general, is that it is a ‘nice’ film although, if the Italians talking about it had three children and the two male children were both gay, I’m really not sure how that would really go down.

And then there are the discussions about the famous latin-pop star.  They basically fall into two categories.  There is the ‘who cares – his music was crap’ to the ‘who cares in 2010′ and then there is the ‘what a surprise (not)’ to the ‘oh look, he has a biography to promote’.

Being gay has never been so ordinary nor so popular!  I guess I must also be a very fortunate homosexual too, then?  Actually, not really.  I’m a very fortunate guy, certainly.  But being gay has absolutely nothing to do with it

But I do get a little disheartened by it all.  So let’s get some things straight (so to speak).

Being gay – maybe it shouldn’t make a difference and, in many ways it doesn’t but in some ways it really does make a difference and it does mean that you have to consider every action, every word spoken, etc.

I regularly (here) see couples embracing.  In fact, for me, being British, it can be downright embarrassing on the basis that they seem only a small step from having full public sex!  But, imagine walking down the street and seeing two men or two boys doing the same thing.  It’s OK, or not?  I’m thinking that, however open-minded you may be, it may not be completely OK.  Even I would be more embarrassed than I already am!

The coming out.  There’s no right time.  Of course, there should be no need to ‘come out’ at all, you may say.  But, especially if you’re straight-acting, the automatic assumption is that you’re straight.  So, women may make passes at you; colleagues at work will talk about a beautiful women in the context of you being interested, etc.  I have no problem with women making passes at me.  It is, after all, very flattering.  However, I do feel that it would be unfair if I let them continue when there’s no chance of it going any further, don’t you?  And, so, there IS a need to come out, unfortunately. And although it’s not necessary, strictly speaking, I do really get fed up with people make lewd comments to me about females and expecting me to react in a ‘blokish’ way and, so, would love to ‘come out’ to them. I noticed that, with people who know, there are no comments about women in that way – at least not in my company.

The Family. OK so this is, probably, the hardest of them all. It doesn’t really matter how difficult it is or isn’t to come out to your friends or in the workplace – but coming out to your family is an entirely different thing. The problem here is that, however, relaxed and open-minded they may all seem (and for certain mine weren’t so I knew what the reaction would be before it ever happened), it’s an entirely different ball-game when it’s your son/brother/cousin/father/uncle etc. Even then most open of people can, deep down, harbour those prejudices that we are ‘taught’ when young. And, of course, it’s worse when it’s one of ‘your own’.

I mean, how can you face the outside world? What explaining you’ll have to do!

And, just in case you think that, just because I write all this here I am one of those people who are ‘out’ well, yes, to some degree. But not everyone knows at work and, having gone through all the crap between the ages of 18 and 25, I just can’t be bothered to go through it all again – except I find myself having to do so here, in this country where the film Mine Vaganti rings true as it would have done in the UK about 20-odd years ago!

So, although everyone ‘knew’ about Ricky, and although I don’t have any particular feeling about him (gay or not), I can feel the slightest bit sorry for him. Whether he did it now or later; whether it was for the book, to boost his flagging career or none of those (the timing would always be wrong for some people); whatever the reason, we shall never really know the reasons why he kept it secret for so long (what pressures he was under to ‘keep it all under wraps) or why he decided to come out now (maybe writing the book and seeing how his life to date was built on lies). At least he has come out and now we can get on with loving or hating his music and he can get on with his life.

For sure …….. maybe.

He doesn’t want to talk about it.  He doesn’t want me to come.  I took Lola’s advice (thanks Lola) and asked.  I think he appreciated the thought but then said he doesn’t want to talk about Friday.

He doesn’t want me to come to Tuscany, either.  Well, actually I don’t know that he doesn’t.  Anyway, it’s probably a good thing not to go.  Too many difficulties in that.  This all needs to be a more gentle introduction.  I am being too selfish.

And, yet………

It’s not like he’s pushing me away.  He’s just stubborn – even more than me.  He’s already told me that when he’s ill he doesn’t even want anyone in the house, let alone looking after him.

He’s a strange guy, for sure.

Last night we went to see a film – Mine Vaganti.  This was a really difficult one for me as all the talking was very fast and, although I had already got the plot from the internet, I missed out on some of the jokes, of course.

Then we went for a pizza at Le Specialità  .  We were with a colleague of his and her husband.  They raved about the pizza but, at €14 plus for a pizza with ham, I thought it was overpriced – about double what I would normally expect to pay – and although all the ingredients were obviously fresh, it was not worth the doubling of the price.

Still, a nice evening and at least I did understand the film, more or less (although it was all a bit ‘done before’).

On the way home he mentions about going to his parents and that he hadn’t really made up his mind.  He added that it was six months since he last saw them.  I said that he should go – that he had to go, kicking myself inwardly as I said it.  But it’s true.  He must/should go.  By doing it this weekend we keep Easter free for us.  He explained the excuse he would give for going down this weekend rather than Easter.  It would seem that he wants to spend Easter with me.  Maybe we go to the lake or for a day out or two and lunch in a restaurant.

Either way, I think he wants to and doesn’t want to go – in as much as he wants to spend the time with me.  I think.  I hope.

Going with the flow

In my head, I am firm and resolute.

F hasn’t been sleeping well and I snore and when it gets too much he has to stop me.  He has tried many things.  If he snores I only have to kiss him for him to stop.  He’s tried that with me but, apparently, that and many other things, don’t work.  He has to wake me.

And I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather.  It’s like ‘flu but I think it’s down to not enough sleep.  From my whole life of going to bed about 10 or 10.30 or, at a push, 11 (since I get up at 5 something), I am now never in bed before 11 and, amongst other side effects, I think it’s making me look older.  Someone likened me to Tommy Lee Jones the other day, so you get what I mean (not that being likened to TLJ is a terrible thing, IMO).

And, so, after Tuesday night I resolved that I would sleep in my own bed.  But when we spoke and he asked if I was coming round I said ‘yes’, of course.  Wednesday, after feeling so grotty most of the day, I told myself that I would definitely sleep in my own bed.  And, I said to myself, whatever he says, say that you want to make sure he sleeps well and you don’t want to wake him or keep him awake.  But, again, as soon as he asked if I was going round the answer that came out was ‘yes’.

Last night we went to see Alice in Wonderland.  After, we are walking back to our area (about 10 minutes).  I didn’t mention anything.  He says that he hopes to sleep better tonight.  I sympathise and say that maybe I should stay at mine tonight.  He says that he can come

No, it’s better that you sleep on your own.

Those are the words that should have come out of my mouth.  Instead, I say “If you’re sure”.

Of course, earlier, he had phoned.  “Be at Arcobaleno [the cinema in Viale Tunisia] at 7.30.  We’re going to see Alice in Wonderland”.  I had, previously decided that, when he phoned or came on line I would tell him that I was going to bed very early tonight.  Of course, when he actually phones, I say “OK, I’ll be there”.

And I don’t regret that.  Nor am I sorry that he spent the night at mine last night and the several times I woke up with him spooning me, all warm and comfortable and nice and reassuring.  OK so I got to bed after 11 but I’m not seeing him tonight (he’s going to the theatre with some friends) and so I think that this will be almost the last night (before he goes away for a whole week) and I need to have him close to me.  It’s my need but I think it’s also his.  I mean, if I was really keeping him awake he wouldn’t come, right?  Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t.  Or, is his need to be with me the same as mine to be with him?  Hmmm.  Maybe.

And the reason we went to Alice In Wonderland was because his colleague got us tickets.  F & I went for a beer first at one of the gay bars (Mono) nearby.  Then met up with his colleague and her husband and son in front of the cinema.  OK, it is a good film but Tim Burton is in danger of getting a bit ‘samey’.  But I need to see it in English as I missed some of the (probably) more subtle bits of the film.  The 3-D effects were good in parts (the smoke, falling leaves, flying things – where they really seemed to be coming out of the screen) but the rest was not really necessary and didn’t really add anything to the film.  I wonder if the cost of making the film in 3-D will outweigh the returns and it will have a short shelf-life?

Anyway, back to the purpose of this post, which is to say that, in spite of my logical, calculating side knowing that I should say no, when I speak to him or am with him, it’s impossible to do anything other than agree to whatever he suggests.  It kinda makes me angry (with myself) but then, again, I think- why not?  After all, we only get the one life and fighting against the tide is pointless when, in reality, you just want to go with the flow :-D

And, it’s not as if he is fighting against it that much either!

Special all the same.

In spite of the snow, the Christmas lights along Corso Buenos Aires, the Christmas decorations in the shop windows, the milling and rushing of shoppers buying their gifts, etc., it really doesn’t feel like Christmas to me.

Sure, I can talk about it here, at work, but I am struck by how unexcited I am.  OK that’s been more or less true for the last few years, I suppose.  This year, I have some excuse.  We’ve been together for too short a time to really be able to plan, to decide on things, to build up to Christmas.

I’m not sure what to expect; I don’t know how it should be; I can’t impose my Christmas (not that I want to impose it anyway) and we’re in a different country with different ideas about how it should be, sort of.

We did talk last night, a little, about Christmas Day and New year and so on.  He was talking about decorating the table for Christmas Lunch.  Anyway, this sort of thing was always V rather than me, so from that point of view, it will be much the same.  However, there’s been a lack of involvement from me in the lead up to this year’s Christmas.

It’s not that I’ve wanted to be uninvolved.  It’s just that I’ve not known exactly how it would be or what we would do, other than being together.

Last night I told him I’d bought Brussels sprouts – even if I know he won’t eat them.  He understood why.  This morning, my colleague, S, said that she had seen Nigella Lawson on the TV (I had told her about NL) and that she had done some strange things – like Bread Sauce.  Which made me think that I should do Bread Sauce anyway, as I love it – even if he won’t like it because, even if I love it, most people don’t.

I might even make the usual white sauce although this will be with panettone rather than Christmas Pudding.  Maybe I’ll suggest it?  It’s an alternative to cream or ice cream and will make the Christmas lunch just a little more like Christmas for me.

He’s planned some films that we could watch.  And, since we both like films, it could be good.  One film he said he had chosen we could watch in either Italian with English subtitles or English with Italian subtitles.

He suggested that we could spend New Year with some of my friends.  He doesn’t want to do the New Year that has been planned by his friends.  Really, I would like to do ‘something’ but I’m really not sure as I really like when we are together.  But, of course, that’s because it’s all too new.

This morning, as I left the house he asked if I had remembered the keys and would I lock the door on my way out.  Later, on FB chat, he asked if we were spending tonight at his or mine.  I replied that I would prefer mine as tomorrow night we will be at his.  He said OK.  It’s sometimes very easy.  It’s often, very comfortable.  It’s always very nice.

I am looking forward to Christmas even if, at the moment it all seems a little at arms length.  This comes, in part, of not having any history to go with it.  But, then, it’s the first and, so, will be special all the same.

In the half-light, I could see the smirk

In_the_half_light_I_could_see_the_smirk

He tried, on the internet, to find a film in original language, bless him, even though I tried to explain that they did not have original language films on a Sunday any more.  They used to do it at the Odeon, near the Duomo but stopped it a year or so ago.  I guess not enough people went.

But he tried anyway and for that I was happy.  He had said he wanted to see the new film Julie & Julia, with Meryl Streep.  I told him that we could go and watch it anyway, even if it was in Italian.  In fact, I insisted we did as I knew how much he wanted it.  My Italian is improving, at least my understanding of it, mainly because I have less choice now and, although we speak almost exclusively English when we’re together, when we meet his friends or, in general, Italian is spoken much more often in my hearing.

We had had a rather lazy Sunday morning, including a quick trip downstairs to the nice café for breakfast followed by a quick trip round the supermarket for some essential items (including wine).  The clocks had gone back and so, effectively we had the extra hour – although, after so many days/nights like this, I was completely shattered and needed about 3 extra hours!

He was going to lunch with friends and then to see a flat that was, apparently, rather small but had a terrace and was on the top floor and, much more importantly for him, was 3 minutes from work.  This is not so important right now but the first three months of the year it is, as he works from about 8 a.m. until 10 p.m. every day.

I went home to spend some time with the dogs.  They are being a little neglected right this moment and so, when I’m home we go for longer walks and I play with them more.  Still, this week I have to spend some nights at home, which fact I still have to tell him.

We agreed that we would meet at the cinema. Before that I googled the film and got the synopsis and watched clips so that I would have a good idea of what the film was about.  It is more difficult to understand if I don’t really know the subject.  It looked a funny film.  I Skyped FfI who explained that Julia Childs was very famous in America – a sort of Fanny Craddock, I suppose.

So, when we met, I already had a good idea and could remember some of the clips.  We had quite good seats.  I did follow quite a lot of the film.  There were a couple of bits where I really didn’t quite get it but not so many and there was only one bit that I had to check with him afterwards – although I had got the gist of it after all.

Good film.  One of those feel-good films and one that I now want to see in English, to get all the nuances.  But I do think that he liked the fact that I went with him.  I hope so.  It’s all part of the strengthening of the relationship.  He also wants to see it in English.  At the end of all this, he’s speaking in English to me partly because he wants to improve his pronunciation and general command of English (although he is already very, very good).

On that subject (but see the bit about the bar, below), we went out on Saturday night to an Indian restaurant (The Dhaba, Via Castaldi 22) which has to be the best Indian restaurant I have been to in Milan.  Superb food and excellent service although, for those of you from the UK, a little expensive.

Whilst we were chatting over dinner I found that he doesn’t eat red meat – or, at least, not unless it’s minced up (ragù (Bolognese sauce to my English readers), sausages, etc.).  This would be a bit of a problem with Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding then?  Hmmm.  That’s a bit like really loving ice-cream and being told that you may never be able to have it again!  But he did tell me some funny stories of when he was a kid.  He still makes me laugh and I really like that.

Afterwards we went to a bar nearby (the corner of Castaldi and Via Settala) where a friend of a friend was having some special evening.  AfL, the friend, was there with her friend M.  AfL is married to an English guy and has lived in London for 5 years.  F asks me, when they have gone to the bar for another drink, if his pronunciation of English is better than AfL.  I tell him yes, of course.  It does help that it is the truth but he is immensely pleased with this.  He tries so hard to talk with a more English accent, bless.

I leave them to go and do the dogs.  I text him when I am almost back home and he tells me he is coming to pick me up in a taxi (as we had agreed).  In the taxi, on the way back to his place, he tells me that AfL (who will be staying with him next weekend) thought I was really nice.  This is good.  One should always be the best of friends with the friends and colleagues of one’s partner – certainly at the beginning.  You have all seen ‘Hitch’ haven’t you?  And the being friends with the friends is pretty crucial.  Luckily, all the ones I have met so far have been lovely so it’s not so difficult.  Anyway, I can be the perfect English gentleman with all the charm switched on, when I want.

Sunday night, after the film (we went to the 5.30 showing), we went to Al Basilico Fresco restaurant (Viale Abruzzi 21) where we had pizzas.  Nice place.  The pizzas are thin (like Pizza OK) but not so large.  Very nice and not so expensive.  I like that after the meal they give you a sorbet free of charge.  It is nicer than having a limoncello or mirto or something.

During the meal we were talking about films and cartoon films (which we both like).  His favourite was Ice Age, which I’ve never seen.  When we got home, he put the film on the DVD in the bedroom and we watched it.  It was good.  After the film was over, apparently, I went to sleep immediately!  And to be honest, I am very, very tired.  I’m almost looking forward to him going away for a night this week!  I need sleep.  Also, next weekend, it is very unlikely that we shall be together as, not only does he have AfL staying with him but also a dog, for whom he is dog sitting!  A dog who sleeps on the bed!

And, this morning, at about 6.15, just before the alarm went off, he again said that I should remember that he is like porcelain in the morning, but now I’m thinking that this may not be quite so true as, in the half-light, I could see the smirk on his face.

Pictures of people in your head – does everyone do this?

I remember, when I was a buyer for an Engineering company in Dursley, There was a sales guy that, over the phone, I used to get on with really well. Over a period of a year or so, we built up quite a good relationship – more than just the work thing.

In my head he looked a certain way. He was tall, blond-haired, good looking, etc. His voice sounded that way.

After about 18 months, I left the company and, as I was leaving, we promised to meet up. A few weeks later, we did. He was short, fat, dark-haired and a bit goofy. And, face-to-face he did not have the same personality as on the phone. I guess he felt the same way as neither of us touched base after that. Face to face it was all wrong, somehow.

Then, there’re books versus films. I read Lord of the Rings, a long time before any of the films came out. I pictured the whole thing in my head. The characters had real faces, were dressed in certain ways. The film of course has now erased those characters as they were in my head. The only one I remember that was totally wrong was Gandalf – although I can’t remember why now. It still sort-of annoys me when I watch the film for, although I can’t remember my original, I know the film depiction isn’t quite right. However, Frodo was much better than I had pictured so it sort-of balances itself out, I guess.

And then there’re songs. Take ‘Puppy Love’ by Donny Osmond. When it was released I remember thinking it was a girl singing it. When I saw him on Top of the Pops – I still thought it was a girl. And the name ‘Donny’ was American and it was the first time I had heard it so I was still convinced it was a girl. Of course, when I found out it was a boy I kept it all to myself – after all, it was only my parents that couldn’t recognise the difference between boys and girls – all because of their long hair! How stupid were they!!!!

And then there’s Gail. Gail has been commenting on my blog for a while now and, recently, she pointed out that she had put a picture on her profile on her blog and that I should take a look.

Before you go and look, I should tell you that Gail, in my head, already looked a certain way. Even though we have not spoken (therefore, I could not be swayed by the sound of her voice) we have emailed and commented and, weirdly, I have to build up how she would look. So Gail was blond with shortish hair, slightly curly or permed or maybe wavy. She wasn’t tall and not skinny but neither short nor obese. She had a rather round face with a perfect nose and rather nice brown or hazel eyes. Even when she just got up in the morning, her hair and make-up would be done and be “just right”. She had a way of shaking her head so that the curls of her hair would bob up and down and she would do this for effect.

She was a grandmother but quite a grand grandmother, with a style that was all her own.

To be honest, she is, probably, all these things. However, when I saw the picture the hair was so different I was shocked. Now, isn’t that really stupid! If I had met her before the online relationship she would just be Gail. But now she is a different Gail! That’s not to say that she is not attractive or fun or any of the things that I pictured but it’s the hair! It just doesn’t fit.

Gail, I’m sorry but you need to have a haircut, a wave put in and go blond! :-)

BBC Advertisements.

As you may know, I use the BBC website to check the news. One of the things that I believe you don’t get in the UK is the adverts.

They don’t really bother me. Some sit on the side advertising computers or cars or whatever. Some, however, are like an advert on TV in that they show just before the video clip you want to watch. It’s not really a problem. Most are for hotel groups or airlines and, to be honest, I take little notice.

Except for the latest one which I find really annoying.

It’s for the film “Revolutionary Road”. This in itself is not annoying. What IS bloody annoying is that, because I am in Italy, it’s in Italian and dubbed movies are never usually so good. So, instead of hearing Leonardo’s or Kate’s voice, I hear some Italian person and the voice is all wrong. Made worse by the fact that I don’t understand it all.

I mean, if I’m looking at the BBC site in English, don’t play adverts in Italian!

Gift Wrapping – is not always for gifts!

After a slightly heavy post yesterday I thought it was time to lighten up a bit and also post something about one of the differences between here and there.

I was struck by this, taking Rufus and Dino out for walk yesterday, late afternoon.

There was a smartly dressed couple, obviously on their way to friends or relations for dinner or a party or something. Here it is Santo Stefano day and, similar to the UK, a public holiday except that they do not start their sales (that has a date set by the government sometime later in January) and nearly all the shops are shut (except for the Chinese ones around Paolo Sarpi, much to N&S’s delight).

Anyway, this couple were each carrying, like a tray, a beautifully wrapped parcel, with ribbons, etc. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought it was a present. But I do know better, and they weren’t presents at all.

They would, in fact, be one of two things. Either a tray of hand-made chocolates or a tray of small cakes. We have the gelateria just below us who sell less ice-cream at this time of year (although they still sell some, which amazes me every time I see it) and, so, have gone into the business of turning half their shop into a hand-made chocolate shop, which they make on the premises. Imagine, if you will, Thornton’s (if they still exist in the UK) but these shops are, generally, not a chain and the one below us certainly isn’t.

We went to a party on Christmas Eve (it started at 10 p.m) and when I asked what to bring, I was told some sweets. So I duly went to the gelateria below and chose my tray of chocolates, selecting eight of each type which she carefully arranged in rows on the tray.

Now, cast your mind back to “Love Actually” and, in particular to the scene in Selfridges or wherever with Rowan Atkinson where Alan Rickman is trying to buy a gift for the girl in the office whilst his wife is in the same store and, having selected the gift, wants to just pay for it, whilst RA spends the next 20 minutes gift wrapping it.

That’s, more or less, how it is here. I spent 10 minutes selecting the chocolates and the girl then spent at least 10 minutes gift wrapping it, even putting a small Christmas tree decoration to add the festive touch. They also do that for nearly anything (pens, scarves, etc., etc.), at any time of year, if you tell them that it will be a gift (regalo).

It is one of the nicest touches here but don’t be in a great rush when you are shopping for gifts (or chocolates or small cakes) as it can make the whole process twice as long.

But the finished product, when you hand it over to your host really is so much nicer and so much better than a bag of sweets or a box or whatever as they are always so beautifully done.

If you come to Italy, you should, at some point, buy something and tell them it is for a gift just to get the nice packaging. And be prepared to wait. It’s worth it.

Another (scary) First; Parking the car at work.

I tried to get out of it but not so that it was obvious. My heart was pounding, my stomach muscles (what’s left of them) were flexed, almost painfully. I tried to relax. I forced myself to relax and it almost worked.

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