"Why do you have to wear trousers and dress like a man?"

(moved from the old diary-type thing)

Why, indeed? Why don't I wear a skirt and show everyone my ugly thick legs? Or why don't I wear women's trousers (which are almost invariably too small)?

Feminine clothing is definitely not to my taste – light colours, thin materials, frills and flowery patterns look odd on me, and I feel very uncomfortable in them. Ditto skirts. And isn't clothing meant to a) cover, b) keep one comfortable? Fashionable women's clothes are anything but comfortable; I'm not thin and tall, and most clothes seem to be especially made for people who look like Barbie dolls.

Besides, I'm rarely mistaken for a man these days, no matter what I wear.

Progress!

(moved from the old diary-type thing)

Last night mom finally asked (although it was more of a statement than question) if J and I are seeing each other. I confirmed it – and to my huge relief, she didn't seem a bit upset. On the contrary, she claimed to have known about us for quite some time. "I've known least as long as you've been together – your mother isn't stupid, you know!", she said, when I mentioned we've been together since the summer.

She also said dad was clueless again and that she'd told him of us a couple of weeks ago. He dismissed the thought. Can you say "denial"?

We talked for quite a long time, and the end result was that J is still welcome to our home (whew!) and that mom has nothing against us being together – she just doesn't want to see any public displays of affection. So what else is new; she doesn't like to see them by anyone (gay or straight). But that's no problem with me.

March madness

(moved from the old diary-type thing)

What the world needs now... is not another love song!

So we've spent the New Year's together, I spent a weekend in January at J's, she came over once at the end of the month, and I visited her twice in February. We chat every day, talk on the phone several times a week, exchange e-mails constantly... and it's still not enough. She doesn't like to be apart from me. I don't, either, but I'm such a self-centered bastard that it's not such a great problem.

The nights are different, though. That's the time when I miss her the most. A teddy bear is a poor substitute for a person with whom to snuggle. And you can't fall asleep on a teddy bear's shoulder (it doesn't have any).