Keeping Me Up

Had another strange dream a few nights ago (my blog posts are being published with a bit of a delay on them, at the moment, for reasons I might discuss in another blog post!) that I thought I’d share, before waking up early and being unable to get back to sleep.

Dream – Putting a Cap on Liz and I

I was out at a pub with my friend Liz, her partner Simon, and a load of other people, mostly the old Abnib/”Chess Club” crowd. The pub was noisy, and I felt a little claustrophobic, so I excused myself and went and sat in the deserted beer garden at one of the wooden benches. I was also hoping that Liz would pick up on something I’d said earlier in the evening and come and join me where we could talk privately, and sure enough, she did – she came out and sat next to me on the bench.

She and I had had an evening some months prior in which we’d gotten drunk, confessed an attraction for one another, and ended up kissing, which had led to a not-insignificant number of awkwardnesses within our social circle. From some hidden pocket within the table I produced a battered (yet somehow, also laminated and pristine) sheet of A4 paper on which we’d written down, that night, how we felt about one another. My bits were typed in Javascript using Courier New; hers were handwritten in a cursive type. We both sat closely and re-read our words.

A young man we didn’t know came and sat on the bench opposite us, asking only half-politely if the seat was free (despite there being many completely free benches). We ignored him and tried to make it obvious that we were involved in a private conversation which he was not welcome to join, but he didn’t take the hint: he just sat there and lit up his cigarette.

Liz and I reminisced about our flirtatious evening together and talked about it. Realising that neither of us wanted to make anything more of it than had already happened, we decided that “that was that”, and we’d put and end to whatever romantic inklings either of us might have had. We hugged, and there was a brief moment during which we looked at one another, undecided about whether or not we should kiss, but then we didn’t, and instead exchanged a glance of agreement, and walked back inside to our friends.

Significance:

  • The kisses and snuggles with my friend Liz happened only in the dream, in case anybody’s unclear. Not that I wouldn’t – Liz is hot! – but I think Liz represents any number of other things going on in my life right now, as discussed below. Just thought I’d clear that up, not least because she’s likely to read this!
  • The pub was reminiscent of The Cambrian, in Aberystwyth, but the beer garden (accessible through a door where the door to the toilets ought to be in The Cambrian) was very similar to the one that nobody seems to know about out the back of The Fountain.
  • I was recently in a pub in which it was too loud to reasonably talk. I was told at the time that the noisy groups near us had only first appeared right after I did.
  • I’ve been perhaps working a little too hard of late, including writing a lot of Javascript, which is probably why it made an appearance in my dream. Seeing my code was when I realised that I was dreaming: not because I’d written about my intimate feelings in a web-centric scripting language (though unlikely), but because the appearance of writing is often a dead giveaway to me that I’m actually asleep (a so-called “dream sign“). Like many people, if I look at a piece of writing twice in succession in a dream, it’s appearance changes. Through a combination of self-awareness and making a habit during my waking life of often glancing twice at any writing I see (thereby increasing the chance that in my dreams I will do the same), I’m often able to notice that I’m dreaming through making this observation.
  • I recently crossed paths with somebody with whom I once (well, okay, perhaps twice) had a brief sexual fling, after which I insisted that that would be the end of it, and there was no chance of a relationship of any sort other than “just friends” thereafter.
  • I’ve also recently spoken to somebody (else) with whom I’ve always been somewhat flirtatious, and who has once or twice reciprocated, but of which nothing has ever come.
  • I was quite horny when I went to sleep.
  • I have no idea what the table-slot nor the stranger on the other side of the bench are all about.

Sometimes sharing what I’m dreaming about with you guys leaves me with the maybes. I record virtually every dream that I remember, but I only blog about the ones that I don’t think will make anybody who reads my blog feel uncomfortable. When I first wrote about this dream, I thought twice. Let me know if I thought wrong!

Right, now I’d better get on with some of that work I’ve been doing too much of!

Claire Goes To Pisa

So, last weekend Claire moved out of The Cottage and into her new flat, the top floor of a somewhat-slanted building on Queen’s Road which I’ve tken to calling Pisa. I gather she’s planning a flatwarming party in the afternoon – if you’re on the Abnib Events SMS list, you’ll already have heard about this, and I’ll let you know more as soon as I have it.

For those of you for whom this comes as a surprise, I apologise. I’m aware that in some ways it’s become my duty to keep those of you who’ve left Aber for brighter pastures up-to-date about every little bit of gossip about what’s going on back here in the West, but between all of the things that have been keeping me busy of late – not limited to helping Claire gather all 700 pairs of her shoes, or however many there are (it certainly feels like somewhere in the region of 700), into boxes for her to transport to her new home – I’ve simply not had time to put regular effort into keeping you all up-to-date.

Claire stars in a video tour of her new place, if you want to look around.

To provide answers the questions I anticipate, before they’re asked:

No, nothing else changes. We’re still together, and, in fact, our relationships (already too complicated for some of you, I know) are all still just the same as they already were. I’m still right where I was in the middle of a wiggly W-shaped chain of people in a series of more-open-than-not relationships, with all the same people you’re used to. If you’ve been on another planet for the last couple of years, that is:

Sting (no, not really) – ClaireDanRuthJTA

Yes, everything still happens at The Cottage. Well, everything that already happened at The Cottage: that is – Troma Night, Whedon Night, and the ocassional Geek Night at those times when both (a) Rory is elsewhere and (b) I am not. And, as usual, my door is open for guests just about any time.

So, why the change? That’s a question sufficiently-complex to not be answerable with anything as short and catchy as this blog post is planned to be. The short answer is that Claire wanted some space that was “hers”, as in – hers alone, not something shared with me and, for half the week, with somebody else!

And how do I feel about all this: well, a little poorer, for one – it’s obviously more expensive for the pair of us to have a house and a flat than just a house, especially as this change coincides with a (long-overdue, to be fair) rent increase at The Cottage: we’re both going to have to budget significantly more carefully than we did previously. It’s also a significant change – after six and a half years of living together – that’ll take some getting used to, and it’s sometimes hard to remember that this isn’t a step backwards. But that apprehension aside, I’m still supportive of Claire’s wish to have a place to call her own.

8 words

Ruth wrote:

Coming out to my mother as bisexual was something I thought about for years before finally taking the plunge. Braced for tears and recriminations, I was amazed and pleased to be greeted only with love and support.

Which was why telling her I was poly remains one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. Through an unfortunate set of circumstances, I ended up telling her at a very bad time (middle of the night, after a long day, when I was only there for that night, and as if that wasn’t enough, on her birthday). All the painful words I’d braced for before, and many more besides, came flooding out.

I told her because I felt like it was my fault that she didn’t really understand me; with retrospect, probably one of the most selfish decisions I’ve ever made. I’m certain that nothing else I’ve ever done or said has hurt her as much as hearing that I was in more than one loving relationship and that I see nothing wrong with that.

We’re slowly patching up our relationship, and trying to rediscover the things that we do have in common. Just now, on the phone, I was telling her about how well things are going on a voluntary project Dan and I are involved with. I may have sung his praises a little, just to see what reaction I got. I could feel that she wasn’t completely happy about it, but she didn’t shy away from the conversation in the way she used to whenever his name came up.

And then, at the end of the call, eight little words that made me well up. I’m probably reading far too much into this. She probably was just being civil and didn’t mean to confer acceptance. But I can’t help wondering.

Give my regards to everyone at your end.”

As you know, I’ve always considered myself very lucky to have a family that both understand and approve of my sexuality, relationship structure, and the other little curious quirks that I’m known for. I’m really impressed that you’ve been able to try to help your mother to understand where you’re coming from and why you feel the way you feel.

And yeah, those eight words sound positive to me.

Year One – A Happy Post That Everybody Will Misunderstand To Be An Unhappy One

Ruth and I celebrated the first anniversary of our being a couple, this weekend. She came down to Aber and we took the steam train up to Devil’s Bridge, wandered around the waterfalls, and spent a good few hours sitting in a pub (pretty much the pub in Devil’s Bridge, tiny place that it is) playing darts.

I’ve never really been one for celebrating anniversaries. A birthday is an ocassion to go out for a pint, and new year is when you… well, that’s when you go out for a pint, too. But it was really quite good to spend some time with Ruth (something I’ve not had a lot of while she’s been living in Oxford, this summer) doing the coupley things we don’t often get to do.

Fuck knows where we’re going to be in another year’s time. If her plans play out the way she’d like, she’ll be leaving Aberystwyth again this time next year, and I’m still going to be here. Neither of us are particularly confident about the prospect of pulling off a long-distance relationship that will work in the same kinds of ways that the relationship we have now does, and I’ve suffered a smidgen of anticipatory grief about the possibility us coming to an end.

On the other hand, we’re both keen to see what we can do to make sure it doesn’t have to end unless it absolutely has to, and that’s reassuring. And I am, as always, optimistic. We’ve got today. We’ve always got today.

Bryn And Heather

I don’t want to stir up trouble, and I don’t have any intention to take sides. I’m going to say a couple of things, for which I fully expect to be misinterpreted and I’m all set for the barrange of comments I’ll get hereafter. But hey, that’s enough disclaimerism. On to the controversy:

In case you hadn’t heard and somehow Bryn’s blog post didn’t give anything away (in which case: what planet are you on?), Bryn and Heather split up last month. From my perspective – admittedly one skewed by being hundreds of miles away and getting most of my Bryn/Heather related news and happenings third-hand – this was pretty much inevitable by this point: it sounds as if their relationship had reached it’s expiry date.

Is it sad? Is it happy? There’s some of both of those feelings in there, I’m sure, but from where I am it’s mostly just a change, and not one that directly affects me. I hope that both of them have long and happy love lives hereafter, and that from the remains of the relationship that they have the choice to salvage or to not salvage a friendship – whichever they prefer.

That sounds cold, but I’ve had relationships that have ended with that choice available, and I’ve had relationships that have ended without that choice available. In my experience, those where my ex- and I have felt able to choose “where we go next” have been orders of magnitude easier than those in which we have not. This has been true even where the choice would ultimately be to go our separate ways, or to never talk to one another again.

But I didn’t write this entry as some kind of veiled excuse to analyse my own past love life within a conveniently post-topical context. So I’ll stop talking about myself.

Heather dropped me a message recently, and asked that it be circulated amongst the abnibbers. As she hints in it that she’d have blogged it if she had a blog, I can only assume that she’d be happy with it appearing here, on mine. Obviously I wouldn’t publish it if I felt it were blatantly offensive or trying to cause upset or harm, but as that doesn’t seem to be the case, here it is:

Subject: In response to Bryn’s non-moderation of my comment re. Sundeep’s comment on his blog.

…And also given that my blog got lost in the ‘great server crash’, and I (understandably) haven’t had it resurrected on Bryn’s site:

I’ve sent this to as many abnib readers as I can think of in my friends list. I’d be grateful if it could be passed around to anyone I don’t have or have forgotten.

This isn’t meant to be an attack on anyone in particular, more a reflection of my complete lack of any other media to communicate in.

I am aware that Sundeep’s comment wasn’t meant in this manner, however the content of it was really quite upsetting. I am still hurting more than I thought possible over this breakup, and reading about Bryn in this sort of context is quite like having something very painful twisted around in the region of my heart. I’m well aware that I cannot prescribe anybody’s behaviour, and in all likelihood, what Sundeep has said will occur, and that Bryn is entitled to dance with as many attractive women as he likes. However, things happening that I know nothing about, and cheerful messages posted in an open forum are entirely different things, and I’d very much appreciate it if, for the time being, we could all try not to rub in my face how very much Bryn is enjoying his new single life, and happy with all his friends, whilst I am at home, lonely and brokenhearted.

I’m not digging for sympathy, or trying to slander, or anything like that. But as I have been denied my most effective method of getting over things by not being able to communicate with Bryn through any method at all, it’s going to take me a good deal of time to get over this, and I’d appreciate all the help I can get.

Thanks for your time.

Before I get the obvious complaint: I fully respect Bryn’s right to censor comments on his blog: it’s his blog, after all, and it’s up to him what passes as a valid comment. Moreover, I’m of the opinion that if Heather doesn’t want to know about the good (or bad) things happening in Bryn’s life, it’s easy enough to simply not read his blog – I certainly don’t feel that blogging counts as “rubbing her face in it.”

If you still wish to complain, there’s a form below. And if you have the balls to do so non-anonymously, all the better.

Valentine’s Day

None of the four of us (JTA, Ruth, Claire and I) had planned to make anything special out of Valentine’s Day, which is why I was quite surprised last night to come home from work and find The Cottage kitted out with candles as part of Ruth’s last-minute secret plan to cook a romantic meal for us all. Which was nice, if unexpected (although she’d apparently not planned it herself until earlier in the day, so I’ll let her off).

And so, a good evening of eating, drinking, and chatting was had by all, once JTA had gotten back from work (before then it was mostly a good evening of work – code for Ruth and I, dissertation for Claire), and the evening wore on nicely as Paul came (laden with beer and flowers) to join the party later on.

It occurred to me at the time that it’s now been six months (well, give or take a dozen days or so) since the four of us – the quad, or the Unholy Alliance, as our friends call us – got together in the romantic sense, and, with the exception of my end of year review, it’s been almost three months since I last said anything about it, so I suppose I ought to provide an update.

The four of us are all doing pretty well as a quad, still with plenty of momentum and excitement and without any major hiccups. Perhaps it’s just because my life is so hectic that I’m used to this kind of time management, but it’s my suspicion that I’ve found it the easiest of the four of us to adapt to thinking in not only an “involved in two couples” way rather than an “involved in one couple” way, but also in an “involved in a quad” way, where it’s even more important for the stability of the shape that we communicate how we’re feeling to the others around the square (or kite, or trapezium, or rectangle, or rhombus, or whatever shape we feel like we’re configured in at any given time).

There have, of course, been some challenges in having two girlfriends, each of which has two boyfriends, and I think I’ve down-played these challenges whenever I’ve talked about how things have been going. That’s not to say that they’re particularly troublesome – I’ve had far more complicated relationships than this (like, for example, most of them!) – but I guess I’ve always felt it’s a bit unfair for a guy with two hot-bi-babes on his arm to moan about relationship trouble.

Time management is the big one, obviously: I’ve heard of people with three (or more) long-term partners and I honestly haven’t a clue how they find the time for it. With work, hobbies, charity work, and valuable computer gaming time all vying for space in my already-crowded calendar, something had to give: and it was probably the computer games… =o( That’s not quite true, and it’s a vast oversimplification of the time management problem, but it is true that I seem to have far less free time than I did before (well, duh!) and I’ve had to learn to schedule time “for me” where previously it’d just come naturally. Google Calendar and it’s calendar-sharing and it’s SMS reminders have become my best friend.

Another early challenge came from insularity: the tendency for couples to become “coupley” and just do things together. It turns out that being in a quad makes it even more difficult to say “Hey, I’d quite like to go and spend some time with my other friends now, ok?” It’s taken a while, but we’ve pretty much got the hang of this, now, I think – although it can still be difficult for our friends to see the difference between us being insular and us (me in particular!) simply having very little free time in our lives. Hopefully we can still learn to get better at this.

We’ve all had to learn a lot of new skills in negotiation and communication to help us define our own rules for something that society in general isn’t too helpful about providing. An example that came up during discussion last night was about third-party secrets. When you’re in a couple and somebody tells you something, it’s usually pretty obvious whether or not you’re allowed to share it with your partner. And if it’s not, it’s easy to clarify: “Just between us, right?” And with our various backgrounds, I guess all four of us have learned to be pretty good at keeping secrets. But it can feel a little confusing when you talk to somebody about, for example, the person at the opposite corner of your quad. And what’s the etiquette for supporting those you love when your girlfriend has had an argument with your other girlfriend?

These are the kinds of things we’ve had to learn to solve, and I think we’re doing pretty damn well. We’ve had to learn to be more explicit about how we feel and what we want (“I’m feeling grumpy because I haven’t seen you in awhile – all the times I’ve been free you’ve been with $otherperson. Can we have this Saturday to ourselves?”), because that’s the best way to get what you want – to ask for what you’d like, not what you think you can get away with. We’ve had to learn about other people’s needs and about compromise – something that every relationship has, but that multiplies when you add extra people. We’ve had to learn how to talk frankly as we go through the motions of defining our own rules and our own etiquette – it’s obvious that when you go to the cinema with your lover you should be sitting next to them, but when you go with both your lovers and their other lover, who goes where?

Here in the UK, like most of the world, people are geared-up to understanding “couples” – from forms which have a spot for “partner’s name” (but… which one?) to party invitations that cover you and your sweetie (singular) only. It’s not our place to change those norms, and nor would we want to: we’re not some kind of crusaders for non-monogamous rights. We don’t want left-handed scissors made for us, and we’ve already got the right to vote (although, interestingly, not to all marry one another, not that I’d want to).

So yeah, what I planned to say was “our relationships – they’re all going really well,” and I ended up talking about some of the things that have made it challenging, instead. Ho hum. If I get the impression that people can cope with my smugness, I’ll write about what makes the whole thing great, next time, instead.

For now, though, I’d just like to share something quite profound that Claire said a while back. She said, “I expected polyamoury – for us – to be like a lending library, but it turns out it’s more like a book club.”

And on that note – have a happy Valentine’s Day (for yesterday) – however and with whoever you chose to spend it.

Reactions To The Unholy Alliance

See these squares? See these circles? See the different colours? You are falling under a trance. When you wake up, you will have no clue what this blog post is about.Here’s a blog post I’ve been meaning to write for several months now: it’s about some of the varied and different ways that people reacted to the news that Ruth and I were together, and that Claire and JTA were also a couple (and, of course, Ruth and JTA are still the fabulous pair they always were, and Claire and I are still ticking along nicely with the wonderful relationship that we have). There probably aren’t many people who’ll read this to whom that news will be a shock (after all, Ruth made a friends-only post some time ago, and Claire dropped a one-liner into a recent blog post), so I’ll gloss over it and get on to what I actually wanted to write about.

I don’t want to write about how brilliantly it’s going so far – although it is – because you’ve probably heard that enough. I don’t want to spout liberal nonsense about personal freedoms and choices and what’s right for us, because I don’t feel the need to prove that what we’re all “up to” feels right. Hell, I don’t even want to try to argue that polyamory is as valid as a lifestyle choice as the infinitely more popular serial monogamy (but if you want to buy me a pint, we can debate that particular idea until the sun goes down).

All I’d like to do right now is share with you some of the fascinating reactions that I’ve heard (or overheard) since breaking the news of our new relationship structure to friends and family. Because, in the end, that’ll make more amusing reading material, and if I’m to be remembered for anything, I’d like it to be that I made people laugh.

Oh; there’s a few references to sex (but almost none to particular sexual activities), so please insert the usual disclaimer here and cover the eyes of the child that’s sat on your lap while you’re reading this. Ta. Seriously, it’s all pretty tame; enough to make a 14-year-old blush but nothing that’ll put you off your dinner or stop you from making eye contact with any of us, but I just felt like I ought to warn you before you started e-mailing me your complaints.

So, skim read it, or skip it, or drill down to the funny bits. But if I put this all down here, now, it’ll save me revisiting it all in quite such ludicrous detail in future, and I can spare the abnib front page the excesses of my ramblings.

Common Reactions

Here are some of the things that loads of people said:

“Congratulations!”

Okay, so perhaps it shouldn’t be right up here at the top of the list of the most common reactions we’ve gotten when one of us has “come out” about our somewhat unorthodox relationship structure. That top spot should perhaps belong to “Umm… what?”“You’re joking, right?” But it has been a popular response – more popular than I expected – and it’s been great to have this kind of support from so many people. To the handful of friends and family members who were so open-minded that their first reaction was “So you’ve gotten into a new relationship and you’re happy? Well; congratulations are in order!”, I salute you: you’ve shown an unprecedented level of acceptance and understanding.

That’s not to say that anybody who said anything else is somehow less thoughtful: just, in many cases, more shocked or surprised. And, in the end, almost everybody who knows has said “Well that’s great, then!” or something similar after they’d been given a while to think about it. It’s not easy to know the correct social etiquette procedure to follow when given news like this, so we were braced for a lot of confused faces, and we saw far fewer than we anticipated. Good for you.

Or, to put it another way: congratulations yourself!

“I couldn’t do it!”

This is a really, really common response. There are two things that I can really say to it:

  1. You might be surprised. Relationships aren’t just something you’re good at or bad at; there are skills that can be learned – and that goes for all kinds of relationships, even creepy weird ones like mine. It’s possible to learn to be able to organise yourself (and your time!) in multiple relationships, and it’s possible to learn the communication skills and trust it takes to talk about things like jealousy and shit like that.
  2. But that doesn’t matter anyway. You couldn’t do it? Okay.

We know that this kind of silliness isn’t for everybody. And don’t worry, polyamory isn’t contagious like smallpox or homosexuality: we’re not going to try to infect you and make you in to evil sex-crazed swingers like us. Even though that’s not what we are. Probably.

“Don’t you get jealous, though?”

Yes. Almost everybody in the world gets jealous at some point or other; it’s perfectly natural and – like any other negative emotion – it can be worked through.

Jealousy is one of the first things that comes to many people’s minds as being a potential problem with this kind of relationship. And perhaps it is. But it’s important not to forget that jealousy isn’t limited to non-monogamy. I’ve felt jealous during perfectly healthy, happy, committed, monogamous relationships before: because I’ve not gotten to spent as long with my lover as I’d like (and, perhaps, when somebody else – their friend, perhaps – has), or not been emotionally as close to them as somebody else, or when they’ve talked about their past sexual conquests or the size, stamina, or general studliness of their last lover. I’m sure I’m not alone in that.

Something I’ve learnt of late, though, is how important it is to talk about feelings of jealousy, so that your partner(s) know exactly what it is that bothers you and so that, between you, you can come to compromises and agreements that make these feelings bearable, or make them go away entirely. And even if it doesn’t all work out (and let’s face it: statistically speaking, our age and the novelty of our new relationships alone counts against it), I’ll have learnt a couple of important lessons about communication in relationships.

Did you know that many biologists consider parrots to be one of the most jealous species on the planet? I don’t remember where I learnt that, but it sounds like it could be true. Hmm; they’re monogamous breeders. Perhaps I’m undermining my point with my knowledge of stupid fun facts. Damn.

“What happens if one of the four relationships breaks up? How will that affect the rest of them?”

For all the planning and all the talking we’ve done, we can’t answer questions like this one. They’re just too tough, with too many unknown factors. I’d like to think that if one of our partnerships split, the other three might be able to continue, but the ripple effects of that kind of break-up might be too much, and other splits may occur as a result.

It’s a risk we’re willing to take. Just like the risk of a heart-breaking separation doesn’t stop you from throwing yourself headlong into a relationship with somebody you adore, we’re risking our relationships and our friendships by establishing these new, less-common relationships. I think it’s worth it. You’re welcome to disagree, but you can’t feel what I feel.

On the other hand, we have all fitted ourselves with stylish tamper-proof detonator collars like the one shown below, wired so that if one of us does leave the presence of the other three for more than a week, their collar will self destruct. It’s the single best way to keep us together.

Still from Wedlock (1991)

Less Common Reactions

This section contains a selection of the less-common responses to our news.

“So you’re all getting lots of sex, then?”

Not as much as you’d expect, I’d bet. I’d estimate that the average frequency at which any given one of us gets a bit of nookie has barely increased at all (or maybe that’s just what they want me to think). The increase in the amount of sex I was getting when, for example, I went from being single to being in a relationship: that was a hell of a leap, for sure. The increase when I went from being in one committed relationship to being in two? Far less significant.

Sex is great, but – in my mind at least – it’s not among the biggest things I look at in a relationship.

Breasts are the biggest things I look at in a relationship.

Ahem.

Those last two lines were a joke, by the way, in case it wasn’t obvious.

“So have you have a threesome yet?”

A few people have asked this, and it’s honestly surprised me how often it’s come up. Moreover, I was really surprised when one person in particular was quite shocked at the answer: no, we haven’t.

I’ve have a couple of threesomes over the years, but none of them have ever involved Ruth or JTA.

I’m not sure why people think of this first. Perhaps it’s because threesomes are some great romantic mystery in so many people’s minds: to be fair, there aren’t many men who’d turn down the opportunity for a bedroom experience with two Hot Bi Babes. Perhaps it’s because it seems like an obvious “next step.” I don’t know.

In any case: the answer’s no. Perhaps it’ll happen someday, but it’s not the most important thing to sort out. Far more important questions that you don’t think of until you end up in a relationship like this are far more mundane things like:

  • Who gets the front seat in the car?
  • Who pays for dinner?
  • Which side of the bed do I sleep on? Your other lover sleeps on that side, but I prefer to sleep on this side.
  • This invitation says “Plus partner.” Who do I take?
  • What are we doing for Christmas?
  • If I cook, who washes up? (turns out the answer is often “nobody”)
  • Who have I just woken up next to? I’m not sober yet and it’s still dark and I can’t remember who I got into bed with. I could prod them and listen to them grunt in their sleep, see if I can identify them that way… or perhaps I could turn the reading light on for just a second…

The big questions are so often the ones you don’t anticipate.

"Spice!" from 16th October 2004

“Have you ever thought about… umm… crossing the square?”

Another reasonably popular but not really common question: is there any potential of a relationship between JTA and I? Or between Claire and Ruth?

Between JTA and I? No. JTA’s very definitely straight, and even with gender cast aside, I’m not sure we’d be “compatible” in the way that I wildly speculate he’d want (note: wild speculation).

Ruth and Claire? Well, it’s not my place to say what they think or feel. Whether or not that interests them is up to them, of course, but it’s my impression that neither of them have any intention of drawing any kind of “relationship line” through our “square,” at least not a line comparable to the lines that form it’s edges.

I’ll set the webcam up, though, just in case. Don’t click here if you want to see it.

“But how can you love two people at once?”

That’s a far bigger, more philosophical point than I’d like to go in to detail on here. A better question is: why is it that you think you can’t love more than one person at once?

My belief is that love is, fundamentally, chemicals in the brain: and I find it hard to believe that the chemicals in my brain have the concept of “counting to two” (in fact, I’ve discovered on long evenings in the pub, if I put enough chemicals in to my brain, I can’t even count to two): they’re a lot simpler than that. “Oh no,” says the brain-chemistry, “I can’t possibly make more of this chemical in the presence of that person, because I already make that chemical when I’m in the presence of that other person!” Please.

Love’s a remarkable thing, y’see, because there’s no “starvation economy” of it: when a mother has a second child, she doesn’t love the first one any less because of it. I don’t believe for a minute that we’re born with a certain quantity of “love juice” (ahem) in us and we use it up by loving people (damn, I really should have thought of a better term than “love juice,” which is just icky-sounding). Unlike time, money, and energy, love is virtually limitless, and you don’t run out of it just because there are more people who you care about.

Love Juice? Who the fuck comes up with these product names anyway? In case you were wondering, it's a lubricant oil for... painball guns. What?

“So how do you find the time, money, and energy for two relationships?”

Now that’s a better question. With great difficulty.

It genuinely is quite a challenge to find enough hours in a day, sometimes, and it takes a reasonable amount of planning to ensure that you even get enough time to yourself. In particular, I’ve found it very difficult to spend as much time with my other friends as I would like, and that’s something I’m working on improving.

Google Calendar is my friend. With it’s text-message alerts (*beep* *beep* *beep* “Oh shit, I’m supposed to be in bed with somebody!”), it’s a lifesaver.

“What does this mean for QParty? What does this mean for Ruth & JTA’s plans to marry?”

That’s two questions, but two that often get lumped together, despite the fact that they’re two very different questions. Let’s look at them one at a time:

Firstly, QParty. The (in some ways) unfortunate timing of my new partnership – getting a new girlfriend just weeks before a party to celebrate my relationship with my established girlfriend – and a similar situation for Claire… may have, we understand, confused the message of QParty for some people. And for that, I apologise.

The meaning of QParty doesn’t change, of course. It was always a celebration of Claire and I’s love for and commitment to one another, and that love and that commitment hasn’t changed one bit for the addition of an extra lover each. QParty itself was, of course, a special day for the pair of us, and those of you present may have observed that Ruth and JTA kept a respectable distance away (not least to reduce the risk of confusing some of our relatives); a favour we’ll be returning at their wedding in… what?… just under three years time.

I can’t speak for Ruth and JTA and their plans, but it’s my understanding that there’s no change in them. They still plan to marry, and marriage still seems to mean the same thing to them as it already did. And while marriage isn’t for Claire and I, I think I speak for us both when I say that we respect their choice to tie the knot in that way and we agree that it’s the right thing for them, and we’re really happy that they’re doing it.

I suppose that one obvious up-shot is that Claire could be the stripper for JTA’s stag party. Or is that just a little bit too weird?

“But, I mean: why are you having a party with Claire and not with Ruth?”

Because I’ve been with Claire for five and a bit years, and (at the time of QParty) I’d been with Ruth for less than a month. Is that a good enough reason? Part of QParty was celebrating that, after five years, Claire and I are still together. Many relationships don’t make it that far, and, in many ways, it’s a pleasant surprise that Claire and I did, especially considering how we started our relationships.

Perhaps, if everything goes smoothly, we’ll have another party in 2012 to celebrate both Ruth and I and Claire and JTA’s relationships. You’ll just have to wait and see.

And if we do, you can almost guarantee it’ll be fancy dress. Sorry, Jimmy. In any case, start thinking of suggested foursome-themed costume ideas suitable for two men and two women now (no, we’re not going as ABBA).

No, no, no, and no.

Pretty Unique Reactions

Finally, here’s a list of things that people have said that’s just a little bit more “off the wall.”

[silence; nods of approval]

One particular couple – who discovered our “quad” by accident because we forgot that we hadn’t told them and they “noticed” – took the approach of being so cool with it that they didn’t even feel the need to pass comment on it. “Oh, so they’re together now. Should I be shocked?” That’s pretty damn unique.

An alternative theory is that the people in question were shocked into silence. Or perhaps had taken a vow of silence as part of some religious cult. But I like my theory.

“It expect it’ll be a fucking disaster.”

We’re sorry to hear that a handful of our friends – thankfully very few – don’t think that it can possibly work out.

It may well not work out. There are loads of things that can go wrong in any new relationship (and, in fact, there are plenty that can go wrong in old relationships, too). We don’t think for a moment that it’ll be an easy thing to make work, but we’re glad that we’re able to work towards making it the success we hope it will be. We’ve laid a lot of important groundwork to help us support one another and to make it work, and we think we’ve got as good a chance as any relationship does.

Worst case, we’ve always got the exploding collars.

“Wow. So four of my friends are now each in a threesome? That’s ace!”

And that’s thinking like a mathematician. It’s not accurate, of course: I mentioned above that “threesomes” haven’t happened, and in poly-parlance, a “vee” (two people joined by one in the middle, in a ‘V’ shape) is a more accurate way of looking at any individual one of us, rather than a “threesome” or “triad” (which implies a relationship between the two people at the tips of the ‘V’). But honestly, mate, you call us whatever the fuck you want, because you had one of the single coolest-sounding responses to the news of anybody, and a ludicrous grin to go with it.

Fourplay

“So, what about children?”

Honestly, I’m surprised more people didn’t ask this question; especially among those who hope themselves to be grandparents in the making. But I was very impressed when somebody did ask, especially as the answer is so simple and unfinalised.

We’re not sure. Children may be on the agenda some way down the line, but we’ve still got a lot of discussion to do on that subject (and, to be fair, there are more immediate things on the agenda right now, like – who gets the front seat in the car? who pays for dinner? – and so on).

Me? I think the four of us would make great parents, and no, I don’t think the fact that theoretical far-future potential children would, in general, give a fig that for some reason they’ve got between two and four times as many parents as their peers. Hmm… I’ve just thought about that: surely I meant to say *exactly* two or four times: it’s not like we can comprise three times as many people as any other set of people: apologies if I’m wrong to any single-and-a-third parent families out there.

Really, though, that’s a fucking huge question to ask pretty much anybody who’s been in a relationship for three months or so. You might as well ask if we have a mortgage together yet or if we’ve reached that level of intimacy in which it’s okay to fart in bed: one step at a time, now, folks!

“What do you call each other? What do I call you?”

Well, I’m Dan, and that’s Claire, and over there is Ruth, and… oh, but that wasn’t what you were asking, was it? What you mean is, if Claire is my “partner,” then who is Ruth?

It must be so much easier to be Ruth or JTA, in this regard. Ruth, for example, can call me her boyfriend and JTA her fiance. I don’t have that luxury, so I tend to call them both my partners, or, better yet, refer to them by name (particularly when talking to somebody who’s only just discovered that “partner” doesn’t have to imply that there is exactly one of them).

What do you call us? Call us anything you like, for all I care! But I know what you’re asking: you’re saying, “I was telling my friend about this couple I know, then I realised that ‘couple’ might not be the right word, then it all got complicated…” Yeah, sorry about that: we didn’t mean to make things complicated for you. I quite like the word “quad.” It may make us sound a bit like small motor vehicle, but it’s an easy-to-remember, short, and understandable word: people tend to just work out what you mean when you say it, and so you don’t get yourself into any excessive complexity.

But honestly; if it makes your life easier to pretend to other people that you don’t know that we’re four couples at all, that’s fine by me too. Conversely, if you want to tell everybody you meet, that’s probably okay as well (albeit just a little bit creepy). There are more important things in life than the words you use. Like who gets the front seat in the car, who washes up, who takes soup up to the ill person in bed, what the correct protocol is for talking to people’s parents…

Coming out: I am not a vegetable!

Well, as you’ve managed to read this far, thanks! It means it might have been worth it to type all of this. Of course this isn’t an exhaustive list of everything anybody has ever asked us, it’s just a selection. I hope it’s been interesting, but I hope even more that you’ve been able to chuckle at it.

Love and hugs to all those who deserve it. Now get back to surfing the web like you’re supposed to.

The Purple Rose

I received a surprising gift at work this morning. Click the picture for a full-size snap.

A Purple Rose... But From Who?

A gift box from InterRose, delivered by Royal Mail Special Delivery. The building manager who brought it up from the reception desk to my office kept insisting that it wasn’t from him (apparently the receptionist had been quite excited by it until she discovered it wasn’t for her, either).

I opened it up, watched by my co-workers. The box contained a single rose, it’s petals dyed purple, wrapped in a red ribbon, and a tiny envelope with my name hand-written on it. Looking in the envelope, I found a small card with the following message:

Lusting after and loving you from afar.

Your secret admirer.

x x

The current favourite guess amongst my co-workers is that the rose was sent by my mum. But I think they’re just jealous.

Thank you, secret admirer, whoever or wherever you might be. Although I’m pretty sure I know…

×

Dumping for Dummies

Ruth wrote:

Wow, it’s been nearly a month since I put finger to key for the sake of this old thing. In case anyone’s wondering, I was feeling hurt and a bit isolated due to the total lack of concern you all showed when I had my first taste of bereavement (with the notable exception of Bryn). I’m over it now though, so no hard feelings, huh?

Anyway, the very briefest of updates: Back from the Cropredy festival, tired, sunburnt and quite ill, but the music was fab and the company fabber. It was especially good to see Bryn and Heather again.

And so to the reason for breaking my silence. I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the best way to dump someone. Obviously, ending a relationship is often going to be pretty hard on the other person, but I think there must be some ways of doing so which are more considerate than others. Here’s an example of a way which seems a bit bastardy:

A young couple have been together for just shy of two years. For reasons which we will assume to be sound, the girl decides to end it. She calls her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend and tells him “I don’t know if I love you as a boyfriend or as a person”. He tells her to cut the crap and just dump him if that’s what she’s going to do. She gets pissed off and hangs up. The next day, he logs in to facebook to update their relationship status, and discovers a message from a friend on her wall which says “Congrats! You and [guy she met on a latin course] were meant to be!”. He calls her and tells her he wishes they’d never gone out, then goes to a club with his cousin, gets drunk, causes a nuisance and gets beaten to a bloody pulp by four bouncers. He goes home, calls his sister in tears to say he thinks he must be cursed and his life is worthless, and falls asleep, bleeding, miserable and alone.

This, I think, would be a prime example in the how-not-to-do-it column, even if the dumpee in question wasn’t my little brother. It’s left me wondering if there is a way to do it that’s just a bit less selfish?

I haven’t often been involved in dumping scenarios, most of my relationships having fizzled out without the need for The Talk, and hopefully I’ll never have to get good at them. However, from my inexperienced position, it seems to me that the onus ought to be on the dumper to try and be honest, in so far as this is necessary to prevent the dumpee from making the same mistakes again, and to be as unhurtful as possible. They also ought to resist the urge to use bullshit lines, even if there is some truth in them. Cliches may be cliches for a reason, but you could at least do the person you’re telling isn’t good enough the courtesy of saying so in your own words. Finally, I think the dumpee needs to be willing to take it. Dumping isn’t – or shouldn’t be – easy, so if someone has taken the plunge, chances are that the decision isn’t up for discussion.

It seems to me that this is an area which is woefully under-represented in traditional etiquette. Given how many relationships end in one or both parties deciding to move on, perhaps it’s time that ‘Good Manners’ came to include how to tell someone to get lost in a polite way?

Part The Widget

Sorry I wasn’t able to offer you any support after your last post and during your bereavement. I’m disappointed in others for not helping, of course, but I’m more disappointed in myself. I hope you got the emotional assistance you needed.

Genuinely really sorry. Could post excuses, but I’m sure they’re not very good ones, so shan’t bother.

Part The Brother

In the cases where my relationships haven’t just “fizzled out,” I’ve more often been the dumpee than the dumper – in fact, I’ve only been on the “giving” end of a break-up once. In my experience at least, it’s harder to be the initiator of a break-up than to be dumped, although that’s possibly more to do with the circumstances than anything else (in the case where I was the dumper, I cared more about my partner than at any time that I was the dumpee).

In any case; at that time, I – like your brother’s ex- – lied. Not so well as she did: I explained that I was leaving her for somebody else (Claire), but I didn’t at that point expose that I’d been cheating on her. Why? Because I’d already upset her (and me) and I didn’t want to upset her further or risk sounding like I was gloating (“hey, and look what I got away with!”). Instead, I planned to talk to her about that later (which went a bit shitty for other reasons, but that’s beside the scope of the story).

The bottom line is that, in my opinion, your brother’s ex- was unethical, but I can possibly see why she chose to do it the way that she did. I’d hope that in her position I’d do better (in fact, I’m pretty sure I would – I’ve learned a lot about relationships in the last five-and-a-half years). Moreover – in my mind – it’s not her fault that he got drunk and beaten up; that’s a detail that (while sad and upsetting) doesn’t actually change the moral validity (or, rather, invalidity) of her actions.

Still, I do feel sorry for your brother. I hope he’s getting by.

Part The Ways

Perhaps you’re right about relationships and etiquette, but it’s hard to say for certain. Every relationship is unique, and – even during the break-up – what is right for one is not necessarily right for another. It’s impossible to lay down a rule that says “when you break up with somebody, tell them exactly why and how long you’ve felt that way” because in the end there are relationships that will end better (cleaner break, happier parties, better ethics) if they are done in a different way (drift apart, white lie, outright lie, whatever). Unfortunately, at the point of the break-up the dumping party may well not care so much as they might once have what’s best for *both* parties, and may well be thinking more selfishly (“how do *I* want to feel out of this break up?”). And sadly, unethical as this may be, it’s their right to feel however they want, and it’s hard to tell them that they can’t…

…it’s a big emotional minefield.

I’d like to think that if Claire and I were to split up, we’d make a good job of it. We’ve laid the groundwork, and talked about it, and we’re pretty good at talking about the status of our relationship with one another anyway. Moreover, we’ve got a healthy grip on the frequently-transitory nature of romantic relationships, and – while it sounds a little pessimistic – we find it’s a great way of keeping things in perspective. Of course, it’s impossible to say. Time – perhaps – will tell.

Ultimately, I’d just like to see people communicate better with their partners: feeling capable to talk about how they feel and able to be honest about what they think. It *should* be okay to say “I love somebody else more than you. How do you feel about that?” It *should* be okay to say “I’m only with you for the sex. But the sex is good.” It *should* be okay to say “I’d like to spend more time alone, but I’m not ready to commit to breaking up.” And it should be okay to say “No, that doesn’t work for me. Can we find a compromise? Or shall we call it a day?”

[sighs]

I’ll fix the world some other day. Far too much going on right now. If you want to debate any of this, drop me an e-mail or call me (haven’t heard your voice in too long anyway).

Love and hugs.

Is There Anything More Romantic?

Claire and I stayed up late and played multiplayer Civilization 3: Conquests together. When the Carthaginians picked on her, I stuck up for her and razed one of their cities. We’re hoping that by working together, we might be able to get a spaceship to Alpha Centauri before 1900.

We played until it started to get light. Then we went to bed and rolled around, laughing. Then we had sex as the sun rose.

A long multiplayer games session followed by a shag. Is there anything more romantic?

Final Troma Night Of The Year

[this post was lost during a server failure on Sunday 11th July 2004; it was partially recovered on 21st March 2012]

And a good Troma Night it was, too. The usual people came – surprising how few of them had gone back to their families for Christmas, yet – although Liz didn’t bring Tom, and, as we decided last week, this undoubtedly spells the end for their relationship. Maybe Troma Nighters should only date other Troma Nighters. Perhaps we should fix Liz up with Bryn (I would suggest Adam, but based on a conversation I had with Liz on Tuesday night, I don’t think that ‘Strokey’ Adam could handle her).

Totoro was fantastic, as ever. We also watched Pitch Black, which was cool for a virtually unheard-of Hollywood title, followed by another of Miyazaki’s fantastic animated films – this time one I hadn’t seen (but had wanted to),… [the rest of this post is lost]

Something In The Water

[this post was lost during a server failure on Sunday 11th July 2004; it was partially recovered on 21st March 2012]

People keep getting together. Kate and Leu, Tom and Liz (now with a journal!), and now: Sian and Andy. Must be something in the water. The latter pair (and the one I most recently heard about) is the most unexpected, and the middle one the most blatant. Sian and Andy???

Well, best of luck to them anyway: a long-distance relationship isn’t necessarily easy, but I’m sure that Sian knows that by now anyway.

I’ve challenged Paul to find the link between Tonari no Totoro, which we’ll be watching next Troma Night, and Troma. There is a link, and it’s a lot less complicated than he’s looking for. He has until Saturday before I tell him anyway.

I tried to send an e-mail to a load of people the other day, telling them about something I’ll later tell to one other person. Unfortunately I accidentally emailed the other person at the same time (was thinking about them … [the rest of this post, and one comment, are lost]

Troma Night

[this post was lost during a server failure on Sunday 11th July 2004; it was partially recovered on 21st March 2012]

Ran out of food, ran out of alcohol: a disgrace from a planning perspective.

On the other hand; we watched…

  • “Nymphoid Barbarian In Dinosaur Hell”, in which a girl (who wasn’t really Nymphoid or Barbaric – perhaps she’d be better named “Anorexic Hairdresser”) tries to rescue her boyfriend (apparently) from a nasty man with a bigger pointy stick, in the aftermath of a nuclear war. There weren’t many dinosaurs, either. But those that appeared were done quite well with stop-motion camerawork. Better than “Rabid Grannies”. Argueabley better than “Alien Blood”, but still rather disappointing. And only one shot in which you can see her nipples.

After this, Liz and her new boyfriend Tom left. Just like Probably Bob, the last boyfriend she brought to Troma Night did, also before the end. It’ll never last.

  • “Beavis And Butt-Head Do America” – surprisingly funny; some hilarious immature humour. And it had Ruth – a guest star for tonight’s Troma Night – in stiches, which I think says a lot about her sense of humour.
  • “Cannibal! The Musical!” Director’s Commentary. At long last, a night at which everybody present had already … [the rest of this post has been lost]

A Most Unlikely Couple

It turns out that two people I know have become a couple, in what is perhaps the most unlikely relationship I could ever imagine. I’ll not say who they are, here, but it’s quite funny.

Claire: X and Y are toghether now.
Dan: X? And Y?
Claire: Yeh. That’s what I thought.
Bryn: Hang on… X [surname]…
Claire: Yup.
Bryn: And Y [surname]…
Claire: Yup.
Dan: Well; it sounds to me like a match made in… Disneyland.

Eventful

Been excessively busy this last week: lots and lots of work. Pulled a 16-and-a-half hour work day on Wednesday, fixing the entire network where my co-workers were unable to. It’s a lot nicer now. In other news, I won an eBay auction for a copy of the 1974 edition of Parker Games “Careers” board game, which is fab, and Claire, Bryn, Paul, Kit and I have been playing it all week.

Three Rings schedule looks tighter and tighter. Having some doubts about getting it to a stable 1.0 release by next weekend, the deadline.

Tonight, sometime after midnight, my awful ex-, Reb (if you ever hear me complain about my ex-, it’s undoubtedly her) dropped me two text messages out of the blue asking if I’m awake and to call her, in capitals (followed by two “X”s, which I take to be kisses). I can’t be arsed. I’ll drop her a text in the morning and find out what she wants.

Right now, I’m going to coax Claire to bed for rumpy-pumpy. ;-)