where your spice meets mine

Beware of pricks...

... according to the window display at Priape on Davie Street!

Sure, plenty of double-entendre to be had with those words.
Either way they are minced, still very good advice.
Somehow I missed the underwear sale at Priape :-(

But not the show put on by a FB who bought up half their supply.
Still awaiting his approval to post some of the photos I took.
I think I just may have a way to encourage him ;-)

But I won't be a prick about it.

Out of focus

At the pool yesterday, I was rather hesitant to point my camera at all the hot guys.

I wasn't looking for sympathy when I tried getting in touch with him an hour ago. I knew he'd be sleeping it off after another night out and so I didn't want to call and wake him up. So I emailed instead. Then, I saw him on Skype - no, that was his mother. Then I saw him on MSN - well, yes but no, it was time for his lunch.

I'm heading to the hospital again because something is not right with something. I don't want to be too graphic, but I'll say that an infection which grew to surprising dimensions a couple of weeks ago seemed to aggravate another body part, which has in turn grown to unusual dimensions. Til now, I've only told him the full extent of what's going on. Now you know a little, too.

What I was looking for was some words of encouragement, some support, some something. What I got instead was concern about how much money it would cost me. He suggested I should just expect the best when I got to the triage desk. Having been 3 times already in the past couple of weeks, I'm hardly looking forward to being there alone, waiting for hours and then returning home to....

So, I procrastinate with gin. The pain is not as bad...

And now I find he's got better use of his time: cruising online. No, I don't expect sympathy. Just someone who cares enough to call or write when I'm in need.

Just friends

My boyfriend's new boyfriend

It's not that I didn't know about him (I did encourage their first getting to know each other) and his likely role after I left my boyfriend in Beijing 4 months ago. But one day not too long ago I realised there was nothing more ever said about him, even though there were plenty of events both were likely to have attended. It hit me unexpectedly hard to recently discover online photo albums of the two of them in various states of cuddly friendship complete with their banter of comments peppered with sexual innuendo.

Naturally I had to say something to the boyfriend and naturally he had to reply they were just friends, though he did readily apologise repeatedly for intentionally downplaying their practically-platonic friendship. The reason he did it? Unknown, undisclosed and unlikely to be forthcoming. Because (?) I have opened up this can of worms, I am now subjected to hearing about their upcoming social calendar in overcompensating detail.

Since I came back to Vancouver not expecting to live alone for very long, I regularly refused to allow any number of new acquaintances the oppportunity to get too close, essentially resisting the urge to make friends with benefits. It seems a tad petty to say, "What a waste!" or "Now I'll make up for lost time". All in all, in light of what was kept from me and what's been going on out in the open in Beijing (and in online photo albums) for everyone else to see, I don't plan on changing my modus operandi.

But one thing is certain, I have to make more friends!

Update on 1 August: Some surprises in the way the BF's BF comes and goes in conversations with my BF, on my BF's blog and on one of our shared social networking sites. It's gradually hitting me - like a feather pillow - that I'm more amused than concerned at their follies. Still, the childish way in which it's being played out via status updates, their adding and removing each other as friends, and the mockery of their public game concerns me insofar as I worry how hard they will take it when(ever) my BF does return to Canada, leaving the other behind. Is this the point at which the terms schadenfreude, 幸灾乐祸 (xìngzāi lèhuò), and morose delectation (delectatio morosa) converge?