The truth hurts

I haven't posted in a couple of days, for several reasons I suppose. I'll blame it on "writers block" :)

I never met up with the hot manhunt boy, but you never know, maybe one day.

Went out to Ray on Saturday, had lunch with him and collected Kathy's Avon order from him, but he definitely realised that the atmosphere was a little stiff (not stiff like a hardon in my jeans, stiff as in I had something to say, something not pleasant). He even said to me at a stage, 'you seem a little pensive today'. *sigh* I didn't have the balls to tell him, yet.

Work seems to be getting busier by the day, and I am wondering whether this rat race ever slows down... I guess not. That's not good news for me, because I want to take a day's leave on Monday. Tuesday is a public holiday here in South Africa, so want to try and make a long weekend of it.

Mom asked me if I wanted to go to my aunt's 60th birthday on Saturday, but ok, let's think about this clearly: A bunch of old family members, all getting pissed out of their skulls, and making jokes about womans' fannies and how "nice" that thing is. OMG I'd rather die. I was hinting at my mom when I spoke to her that I want to come visit for the weekend, but they are leaving to go on holiday that Saturday, going straight to joburg in the morning, and then leaving for Umhlanga on Sunday morning very early... So, for a moment, I though oh well, another weekend at home, another weekend where I wouldn't have an excuse not to see Ray.

Then, my trusted and dear friend, without knowing it, came to my rescue. I received a text about 40 minutes ago, from him asking me whether I wouldn't look after "the kids" this weekend while they are away on holiday. Of course! I told him that I might want to take Monday off, to make it a long weekend, and if they would mind my staying the Sunday and possibly the Monday night too. He said that was fine :) Now just to convince my boss tomorrow that I need Monday off...

Oh, the kids are not real children, that will be the Daschund, Schindler, my favorite dog in the entire world, and then the two Dalmations, and the cat, and Pietie, the Parot (if the old lady is leaving him at home and not taking him with her). Hmmm, it's going to be great sleeping with the big sausage next to me again, if only for a couple of nights.

This is the same friend who offered me his iPhone, once he receives his new phone, but now the phone company is full of stories. Shame, I must look like a real nob, because I've been nagging him about the status of him getting his new phone for the last couple of days, and he is getting frustrated with the phone company. Sorry bud, I'll lay off the nagging now ;)

It also happens to be the friend who said something to me on skype today, which, at first, touched a nerve, but when I really thought about it, I realised that he had read me like a book, and hit the proverbial nail on the head. I won't go into too much detail on how the conversation got to this point, but the sentence that hit the nerve was 'D: you only get a hardon for twinks and hunks'.... .... .... Silence... ... ... And then, I re-read it, and realised, he was 100% correct. I do only get a hardon for hunks, smooth twinks, horny 20 - 25 year old hormone driven boys.

My question is this: Am I just being full of crap, or is it a matter of preference? What if I am too fussy about who I want to have sex with? What if I really do prefer younger guys? Should I be more receptive to guys older than me? Am I living in a dream world, dreaming that one day I'll have a hot, muscular prince, galloping towards me, shirtless, on his white stallion, the rider being just as hung as ridden?

I have conflicting thoughts about this. On the one hand, I feel that I am way too full of crap, and that I am going through life with a tunnel vision, and not opening my thoughts and perspectives up to other possibilities. On the other hand, I feel selfish, and think that if that is what I prefer, why settle for anything less? Then, I ask myself the question: Do I maybe prefer younger guys because subconsciously I have a problem with my OWN age? Damn I need a psychologist! :) I think the answer is not necessarily black and white, but rather grey, and that there lies a little bit of truth in all of the above. The truth hurts, after all. What is certain is that he was right, and perhaps I needed to feel that little stab of something touching a nerve, to open up my eyes to greater possibilities...

OK, enough of that, on a lighter note, I have been emailing back and forth with Mr Sydney boy, and we may just become great friends. I have offered to go out with him for dinner one evening, and recommended some places for him to see during his short stay here in Joburg next month. Pity he wouldn't be here over the weekend, so I could be tourguide and show him the places that the normal tourist wouldn't necessarily see. I love this country, I love this city. It's got so many hidden gems. Perhaps I should become a full time gay tour guide. Damn, that must be LIFE! Hmmm, I shouldn't think such things just before bed time. I'll probably be lying awake half the night again pondering this idea....

Well, that's my life for the day in a nutshell. Hope you all have a fabilous evening/day (depending on your time zone;)).

Kisses!

Mxxx