Friday 30 August 2013

My Evil Twin

To be fair, he probably isn’t evil.

I have a twin. He is my beach twin. I see him on the beach, all the time, and it’s STARTING TO GET WEIRD!

Today was a perfect example, and adequately illustrates how our relationship continues to develop.

Today, I arrived on the beach at about 11.30. I love going to the beach. I spend a lot of time there in the Summer Holidays. It was a lovely day. I had music, a good book, it was a gorgeous day; I was very content. About midday, HE APPEARS. He wanders down the beach, he has a swim. He sits about 20 yards away, nearer the water, he remains there for about an hour. Then off he goes.

Nothing weird about that.

EXCEPT I SEE HIM ALL THE TIME.

Later, after leaving the beach, wandering into town, etc, etc... I return to the beach. The seafront is essentially my walk home, so I tend to walk along the beach as it’s a pretty walk. I decide to sit down for a while, as it’s still so warm. I’m on a different bit of beach now, further up- so I sit down relax, look around me...

THERE HE IS AGAIN. He was there first, clearly. I just hadn’t noticed. A different bit of beach a few minutes away. But THERE HE IS.

Nothing weird about that though. A coincidence, that’s all.

But this happens ALL THE TIME. Different bits of beach, different times of day. In term time, I often nip to the beach late, sort of 4.30/5.00ish – he’s often there, irrespective of which bit of beach I’m on, and it does vary.

And now it’s the holidays, I’m camped out during the day- THERE HE IS AGAIN. Different bits of beach again.

How is this happening? It is too wild to be a coincidence. Superlativity has seen him too. It’s not just me being crazy. He’s my witness.

Anyway- so now it’s got to the point of being weird and frankly ridiculous, and I wonder ‘Does he recognise me when I clock him?’

Who knows... I sort of feel like I should talk to him now. I don’t know why precisely, it just seems like it would be the right thing to do in such an odd situation, where we continually run into eachother on such a random and regular basis.

AND SAY WHAT EXACTLY?

“HI!!!  WE BOTH LOVE THE BEACH!  BEACH BEACH BEACH!!
 MuRRRRRrrrRRRHHH!  MRRRHHuuUUuRRRHHH!”

“Fuck of you little freak.”

Exactly.

Perhaps... perhaps it IS just a coincidence, but none of it adds up. Sometimes I’m there first, sometimes he is. Sometimes it’s one bit of beach, sometimes a different bit, or a different bit again. Sometimes it’s 11 in the morning, sometimes it’s 5 in the afternoon.  Sometimes it’s 3 in the afternoon. 

It CAN’T be a coincidence.

Therefore he must be my evil beach twin.  He is kind of hot.  Sets of my gaydar just a tiny bit. Nice body, tasteful tattoo, bleached tips.

Great tan.


Maybe it’s the heat haze creating a mirror effect?

This is my BeachTwin. Not a normal twin. We don't look alike. We have a 
similar look, perhaps, but we are twins only on account of integrated beach use.




Thursday 22 August 2013

The day I stopped caring (about pants)

I like to make an effort. I have a couple of rules about going out and socialising. Well, not rules exactly – but a couple of habits that have endured for ages.

Number one: Never turn down an invitation unless you genuinely can’t make it.

Number two: Always wear something nice.

And this is the way it was for years.  Years and years. Number one was a symptom of growing up in a small town that was just a little bit far from almost all my friends- who lived in the next town. I was cut off by forest geography after about quarter past ten each night.  And I was always aware that, quite rightly, my friends met up without me because I just couldn’t always attend and I was that much further away.

But I was always a teensy bit jealous.

So I always went to everything. I never missed an opportunity to socialise and never made an excuse or avoided a situation. I lived for being sociable -  being slightly more cut off either drove this or made it more annoying. Who knows.

Recently I’ve become a tiny bit more picky. I will say no to the occasional invite, though it’s still pretty rare. Sometimes I get that feeling whereby, despite a longstanding plan with friends that you’ve been looking forward to for ages, and despite enthusiasm at the time of planning, it gets to the night itself and I think:

OH HORRORS, DO I HAVE TO? THE SOFA IS SO COMFORTABLE.

But this passes pretty quick. I have a third rule- never cancel on people at short notice.  People do it to me ALL THE TIME and, whilst I never mind, on one particular birthday I learned never to do it to others because it can be a fuck when it happens to you, all at once on the same night, one cancellation after the next.

And you make yourself go, have a drink, put on some Britney- get yourself enthused, and then you go and have a FUCKING GOOD TIME.


I just fancied a quiet night out.

Of course it’s fun! It was always going to be fun.  We just experience that lazy bit before hand.

We’re older now.

But now?  A new development. A new development pertaining to Number 2: Nice clothes.

 I’m a bit fussy about clothes. I like clothes. I like outfits and looking nice and making the effort. People generally conclude that I’m quite well dressed. I like that.

And the other day, I was getting ready to go out. I had some nice new jeans on. You know when they’re all new and tight. I had my amazing winged trainers on. Nice t-shirt. Nice belt. Nice outfit.

Then I noticed I was wearing horrible pants. 

Not horrible.  Boring maybe. Not a nice waistband. Not nice enough to be poking out from beneath my jeans a bit, and more importantly NOT MATCHING ANYTHING ELSE I WAS WEARING.

But my winged trainers take forever to do up. They’re really tall lace-up hi-tops. And my new jeans were so new and skinny and tight they were a battle to get on and off.

So I did nothing.

I left it, and went out in horrible pants.  And within a few minutes I didn’t even remember.

I’m sure no-one else would notice/care/give a fuck anyway.  But *I* do.

Until that day.


That was the day that I stopped caring.

That was the day I stopped caring about pants.




Wednesday 7 August 2013

Pride in Pictures

Less ramble.  More photos.



 

11.00 Morning booze and Parade through Brighton

     13.00 Chair-O-Planes and boy bands
     14.00 Naked fitties all around
     
17.00 Freemasons dance-off and skanky street booze preparation


     
00.00 Street Party and finally allowed to eat again



And that was (some of) Brighton Pride 2013...