05 December 2006

Spring in the air

In Ireland, it is customary to start conversation with a reference to this tired subject, yet for once it is appropriate to begin posting with a remark about the weather.

At this time of year, one expects to sashay around the boulevards of Paris draped in a fine winter coat: however, apart from a couple of harsh wintery weeks at the beginning of November, it has been exceptionally mild. Spring appears to be in the air, so much so that the pretty little snowdrops, daffodils and crocuses in my window-box emerged from their bulbs, only to find that there isn’t quite enough sunshine to grow.

Perhaps that explains what has brought a smile to my face these last few days... oh, no, there have been other reasons, it had almost slipped my mind. No doubt you have noticed how my humour improves considerably: that will not last, I assure you, so enjoy it while you can.

But let us ask, gentle reader, what can these changing climates portend? That global warming is causing damage more quickly than at first imagined? That the world is about to end?

Because there have been other strange… happenings.

As I might have already mentioned, once or twice perhaps, I was graced with company after a soiree in Le Duplex on Friday last, a gentleman caller who had not only made the first move, but came back to my little garret and delivered so much, much, much more than was initially hoped for. That was but the first remarkable occasion.

On the following Sunday night, while standing alone with a wry smile, lost in my own thoughts, gazing across the dance floor of Le Tango, I was actually asked out to waltz. (This invitation was accepted, despite having issued from someone who was not quite old enough to be considered a gentleman)

This trend inf strange and unprecedented events continues.

Yesterday morning, finishing my daily run around Les Jardin de Luxembourg, I was wolf-whistled… granted, once I had recovered from my collision with an oak (or was it an oaf?) and glanced back, I saw that the whistling had come from a gaggle of teenage girls stepping off a tourist bus, so it was somewhat of a disappointment. But it was still encouraging to know that one attracts attention, in spite of- or perhaps because of?- not having shaved, sweating copiously and looking like someone who’d just rolled out of bed with a hangover… which of course I had.

But if all that were not enough joy, I came online to discover three links to my humble bloguette!

Not only that, links from gentlemen whose own outstanding work I have long admired, who have brought a smile to my face on more than one occasion, who have even been known to make me laugh out loud. You cannot imagine my joy, gentle readers, you cannot! These are few gentlemen in the gay world who I respect, fewer still who I revere: having read their blogues, let me assure you that I neither respect nor revere these particular gentlemen, yet I can imagine few greater pleasures than a wink, a click or a nod from one of them... actually, my imagination occasionally wanders to the pleasure one might receive at their hands, but it is inappropriate to say anything more on that subject, despite the fact that one of these gentlemen has gone so far as to openly flirt. And I console myself in the knowledge that the other two, who for mainly geographical reasons are more likely to come within my sweaty reach on occasion, are happily partnered: I have already informed one of said gentlemen that he got re-hitched far too fast, and as for the other… well, he distracts one with an occasional glittering reference to having a partner, yet he never feels the need to bitch or gossip about said partner to his readership, which I consider quite unhealthy… (oops, I may have gotten my clues a little confused, however I’m confident you will figure it out)

But I digress. To what changes in the cosmos might these fortuitous circumstances be attributed?

I realised last night… it came to me, as it were. All of this must relate to the beautiful thing that occurred on 22/11

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