What lies beneath

While I was in New York I chatted with Joe on MSN for a few minutes. Even in this short conversation he managed to bring up the word 'marriage' which made me start worrying again about being used. There were enough motives for him to want me, and the fact that he didn't want to have sex wasn't very reassuring either. True, we had had mutual oral sex on the second date, and at some point he fucked me with a dildo, but besides that we didn't have any sex other than heavy petting.

When I returned from New York last Sunday morning he was too tired to come over. I didn't understand why he chose to surf the internet until midnight instead of travelling for ten minutes and see me after us being apart for a week. Something wasn't right. I told Sam, but he said I was making something out of nothing. And he may well be right: among all the red flags, the fact that Joe didn't come over was not really an important sign. I worried nonetheless: so much that it hurt in my stomach. I tried to analyse the situation by explaining Joe's behaviour for myself but it was too confusing.

I decided to write a post about all the signals and what I made of it -- in my previous post I already announced that I'd write a post that I needed your feedback on. However, too much happened in the meantime, and I don't want to bore my readers with uninteresting stuff.

When he came over on Monday, I told him that I was confused by his mixed messages, and he said he was just being honest with me. In fact, that may just be it. I think that subconsciously I prefer complicated guys for they are more interesting. Unfortunately, complicated people are also more... complicated.

I decided to be clearer than ever with him. I told him that I didn't want to make any long-term plans yet, because we only knew each other for such a short time, but that I would love to go abroad together for a long weekend. I asked him why he was mentioning marriage so often, and he responded, "So I can divorce you after a week and become the owner of half of this apartment." He ridiculed me, and indeed I might be embarrassingly distrusting.

I still wanted to know why he wanted to rush everything so much and in bed I asked him bluntly, "Joe, tell me, what is it that you are so afraid of?" I didn't expect him to answer that question seriously, or at all, so imagine my surprise when he said, "Being alone..." For a few seconds I didn't know what to say. "I'm in a country far away from my family, and I know no one here," he added. "That's not true," I said, "you've got some friends living here. And you've got me..." He said, "Within two months you will be bored with me, just like the others. They always go 'Oh, Joe, you're so cute; Joe, you're so nice', but when after two months they are suddenly not interested anymore." I told him I was not like that and reminded him that I had had only two boyfriends, one for more than two years and one for eight years. I added that pushing me to hurry things was counter-effective.

He seems really honest and sweet, and he's so damn attractive. I do have some reservations but after I promised myself not to give him any money, my house key, or a wedding ring for at least the rest of the calendar year, the only thing that could happen was me getting hurt. I believe that taking risk is necessary if one wants to find real love. I have decided to squelch my doubts and just go for it, but I will keep the three promises I made myself. A true love has to be worth the risk of failure. I would never forgive myself if I fucked this up.

A surprise visit

Everything I posted in the last week has been written during the previous weekend. I scheduled the posts to appear every second day. On Tuesday morning I kissed Joe goodbye and flew to New York. It was my first trip to another continent.

Every seven years I take my mom on a trip abroad. No special reason for that: just some mother-son bonding. The older I get, the higher my salary, and the further we go. This trip to Manhattan was great fun and we have seen and done a lot. It also gave me the opportunity to bring a surprise visit to a friend I never met (see The friend I never met). After having known Rick online for many years, he turned out to be exactly the same person in real life.

This morning I got home and read the many comments on my posts about Joe, and I really appreciate all the input. There's more to it, however, and I'd like to get your feedback on the next post.

Everything is illuminated

On Thursday Joe (see The ring) handed me a postcard with a beating heart on the front and the following text on the back:

A você que me deixa assim quando estamos juntos.
É sempre bom estar com você.
Beijos!!! Joe

I had done some thinking in the meantime. It was clear that he was very afraid that I'd run off with someone else. Me! He's such a great guy, and so very beautiful. Why would I ever cheat on him? I could delete my profiles and promise fidelity right now, and, in a few weeks, start wearing a commitment ring. It sounded as if I had a boyfriend. Although it was very quick to be using that word, I really didn't know what was missing in the equation.

So why not just use that word and make Joe very happy? I would never forgive myself if I lost this guy because I was afraid to follow my heart. I really wanted to put his heart at rest -- and my own too. And so, just before we went to bed after another very nice evening, I asked him to be my boyfriend. He said 'no'. I couldn't believe my ears.

He said I was moving too fast. Me! He was the one who had talked about fidelity and marriage and rings and trips, and now I was moving too fast? I confronted him and he answered, "Time will tell if we are going to be boyfriends." Okay, this sounded sensible standing alone, but certainly it wasn't in line with all the things he had said before.

On Friday, the next morning, I was still feeling a bit rejected and he noticed. "Don't be sad," he said, but I was. He gave me a lift to the train station on his moped, and it felt great moving through the city with my arms around him. When he dropped me off he said, "I'm not rejecting you, we need to talk about this next time we meet."

That evening we went out together and we talked a bit more about our situation. It turned out that due to an administrative error, he had suddenly been hit with a ten thousand euro bill which wasn't properly his obligation at all. His lawyer had assured him she could prove that an error had been made -- he had let me read some of the correspondence -- but he wasn't too sure about that.

He said that he wanted to have this resolved before exchanging commitments with me, because if he would have to pay the ten grand, he would go back to Brazil and never enter Europe again. He didn't want to leave a boyfriend behind then. I told him I didn't see any difference between that situation and the relationship we had at the moment, and he agreed.

"So," I asked, "when I meet my mom next Tuesday, can I show her your picture?" He nodded. "And can I tell her that the guy in the picture is my boyfriend?" I added. He laughed, put his arm firmly around me -- we were in a bar, otherwise he would have kissed me -- and he said, broadly smiling, "Yes, you can!"

The ring

I told Joe (see Shadow of a doubt) that I'd be busy on Tuesday night, but the next two nights we spent together again.

I decided to tell Joe a lie. I told him that people tend to think I'm rich judging from my job and my apartment, but that my job title is far more fancy than my pay check, and that the I have a big mortgage on my apartment and have some financial worries. In fact, I earn a good salary and the mortgage is about two-third of the value of my apartment. I wouldn't know what to spend my money on.

Next I told him that I loved living alone after sharing a household for eleven years, and that I was far from ready to share a household again. Marriage would be even a bigger step: indeed, it's my dream to marry the love of my life, but not before I'm very sure that I've found Mr. Right. I added that after being cheated on by two boyfriends, I would probably take a lot of time for me to be comfortable taking a wedding vow. Finally, I tackled his plan of going to Brazil together. I said that I would of course try and get the time and money to join him, but only if, by then, we were boyfriends.

To my amazement he fully agreed with everything. He even added that he didn't care whether I was rich or poor, as long as I was self-sufficient like him. He said he had some money on the bank and earned enough to save some every month. Also, he said that when eventually we'd get married, he wanted to have a premarital agreement that I would never lose my property in a possible divorce.

He suggested that we remove our profiles on gay personals sites, and promise to be faithful to one another. Moreover, he said that he wanted us to each wear matching commitment rings. He loves symbolism even more than I do. I told him he was moving too fast, and that I wasn't ready to wear his ring. He said he'd delete his profiles anyway and at least buy a ring for himself to wear as a commitment ring.

Finally, he wants us to go on a short romantic trip, but not in an expensive hotel, because he doesn't have that much money. At least he doesn't rely on me to pay everything...

Shadow of a doubt

On the Monday after Easter, Matthew, Joey and I went shopping. I still owe Matthew two presents: a DVD box and something to decorate his home. We couldn't find anything nice enough though. In the car, I told them about the Brazilian hunk I had met (see Goldfinger) and I mentioned that we would meet again that evening. I showed them his picture but they were not too excited. Then Joey warned me that he knew several Brazilians who live with one guy, but who have many boyfriends on the side. Matthew added that if suddenly my television and other electronic equipment were gone, I shouldn't come crying to him. Very sensitive of him!

Joey is extremely curious, and he asked me to introduce Joe to the two of them. I said it would be kind of weird on the fourth date. After shopping we went to my house and played a board game, and Joey kept stalling for time, hoping to meet Joe. I sent Joe a text message, asking him to text me when he left home; I wanted to have time to kick Matthew and Joey before Joe arrived. After some more rounds of games and a lot of fun, Matthew told Joey they should go home and make dinner. Joey reluctantly agreed and went to the bathroom before they left.

I looked out of the window and saw Joe arriving on his moped. He had 'forgotten' to text me. Maybe he wanted to see what was the reason for my request. When Matthew asked me if that was Joe, I confirmed. Then Matthew said, "Don't tell Joey, he'll go crazy." I went downstairs with them and as they walked to their car, I beckoned Joe to go to the bicycle room. Matthew and Joey did get a good look at him, but fortunately they didn't meet inside my home.

I made Joe a nice and healthy dinner and we talked a bit on the sofa. Then I got a text message from Joey. He wrote that he knew Joe and proved it by describing a specific though insignificant feature of his torso. I called Joey and asked where he knew Joe from. "I've had a date with him," Joey said. If that was true Joe had lied to me about a lot of things. I thanked Joey for the information and went back to the living room to kick Joe out. However, I had clumsily pushed the wrong button and hadn't hung up on Joey altogether. He yelled, "Jack! Jack! Jack! I was joking, Jack! I have searched for Joe's Facebook profile and found a picture of him with a bare chest." I was not amused, and that's putting it gently.

Nevertheless, I started to worry: maybe I was indeed being a fool. Joe might be interested in me for reasons other than the ones I would want. He had seen my apartment and probably thought I was loaded: guys who visit usually do. Unfortunately, I'm not. I did a short review of the situation.

Joe was temporarily living in a room where he was very uncomfortable. Moving in with me would be a big step forward for him. It is obvious that I have a much better income than he, so that's another reason for him to make a play for me. He said he may be in some serious financial trouble -- probably because someone used him in a scam. Finally, he may be after citizenship in my country, something marriage with me would bring him.

Think, Jack, think! He's much too hot to hang out with a guy like you, and you know it. You're about to make a very big mistake. Take action before you fall in love!

Goldfinger

On Sunday my Brazilian hunk Joe came over again (see The passion of the Christ). I cooked him a good and healthy meal, we watched a film in bed, and we kissed each other a lot. He told me how most guys in my country think it's normal to meet up only a few times a week in the early stage of a relationship, and that he didn't understand that: "When you're in love, you wanna be together as often as possible, right?" I agreed. He often jokes that I probably won't wanna meet up until May. I always respond that I want to see him again as soon as possible.

He noticed that I'm hard most of the time when we're in bed together, and he often jokes that I just want him for sex. He says he's not a big fan of sex. I'm not sure whether he's joking there, but at least he doesn't want to get too intimate during the first few dates. Nevertheless, we talked about fetishes and I told him I recently discovered I like bondage (see A quota for friends). He wanted to try that too, and so I tied him to the bed. He thought the feeling was exciting and said he'd want to play with it some time soon.

Also, he loves playing with my arse. I never let anyone put a finger inside me, but in the middle of the night we kissed one another and he wanted to finger fuck me. I didn't want him to and so he asked if he could fuck me with a dildo. No one ever did that to me, but I let him and it was actually very good. Later he told me that he very much liked doing that, and that he got off on it. Nevertheless, I prefer the real thing... and as he's a bottom, I'd prefer the real thing the other way around.

Whenever my phone makes a sound he jokes, "That's your boyfriend..." The other way around he told me a few times he's got many boyfriends, after which he carefully inspected my response. I know that isn't true, but I don't like hearing it anyway.

He asked me if I would join him on a trip to Brazil for a month. I said that I could not make that promise, that it was too soon to ask. Then he asked if I would want to go on a short romantic trip with him first, only for four days. I said I'd love that.

Fantasising a bit, he asked me if I would marry him. I said that eventually I would want to get married with the love of my life. He has repeated the question many times since. On Sunday he said, "I think we're falling in love." I certainly felt I was in the process of falling in love with him. On the other hand, he sometimes says, "You hate me." He probably wants me to respond with "No, Joe, I love you", but I won't lie; I just tell him, "You know better than that."

On Sunday morning I asked when we would see each other again. "In May," he said. I told him I couldn't wait that long and he smiled. And so he stayed with me for the third night in a row.

The passion of the Christ

On Saturday I first went to the oldest of my two stepbrothers to admire the new kitchen he got from his dad and my mom. I knew they'd visit him too together with an aunt and uncle, after which they would come to my place to fix my sofa. I thus had a lift home.

After they fixed my sofa, my mom wanted me to tell them about my magic mushroom trip (see Like... wow!). Now the two sisters want to try it sometime soon. My aunt asked me to give her some to take home. "No," I said firmly, "only under my supervision." Then we went for a walk in the park at the base of my building because the weather was great. After they left, I immediately started preparing dinner for my Brazilian hunk (see The boys from Brazil).

He rang me and I went downstairs to open the bicycle room. While he parked his moped I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming: he was even more beautiful than I remembered. Then we had candlelight dinner and we couldn't stop staring into each other's eyes.

His name is Joey, the same as Matthew's lover. Their full first names differ by only one letter, but one cannot hear the difference. To avoid confusion, I will call my Brazilian guy 'Joe' on my blog.

Joe is 28 years old and a very down-to-earth, neat, polite, and tranquil. He's quite a religious guy; not only does the tattoo between his shoulder blades indicate that, but he often goes into empty churches to pray alone. He works as a cleaner in one of the expensive hotels downtown. As soon as he knows the local language well enough, he will try and take some courses and find a job in IT. He insists on communicating in my language, which he speaks quite well for someone who's been living here for only four years and who works in an English speaking environment. I think his English is reasonably good, although I haven't heard much of it.

After dinner we talked and cuddled on the sofa, and in bed we watched 'The passion of the Christ' -- it was Easter Eve. We kissed and caressed during the film, and afterwards we had a bit of oral sex. He wasn't quite hard though and so I felt he did it just for me, which made me uncomfortable and far from horny. It turned out that by 'sleeping together' he had meant just that. That was no problem for me, because being with him was heavenly already.

He wanted me to sleep with my arms around him. Although I have trouble sleeping that way, I tried. Halfway the night I went to my own side of the bed. When we woke up he asked if he could sleep with me again the next evening. Of course he could.

The boys from Brazil

It was Sunday evening a week ago when I was about to have some friends over. Just before they arrived, I logged on to a gay personals site to check if I had any messages. Then I noticed that a very hot Brazilian guy had read my profile, so I sent him a message. He was interested in meeting me. I had little time, so we agreed to meet on Tuesday evening and exchanged MSN addresses. Later that evening, or on Monday, we would talk about the time, place, and activity. Unfortunately, I didn't see him on line later that evening. On Monday my mom came over and stayed the night -- more about that in a later post -- and until just before she arrived there was no trace of the guy on MSN. Moreover, he had removed his profile from the website.

On Tuesday morning I sent him an email, reminding him of the date that evening, but I had scant hope he would respond. Suddenly, I faced an evening alone. I checked my messages on the other gay personals site where I have a profile. Soon after I came online there I got a message from a fellow user, but it seemed like a mistake: the message consisted of just one dot.

I checked the sender's profile: the guy was quite good-looking and was looking for a relationship only, not the 'friends and fun' or 'sex date' stuff most people there check off. I responded to his empty message and we made a date for Thursday evening. This guy was also Brazilian. Call me naive, but I believe it was a coincidence.

On Wednesday, I found an email of the first Brazilian guy, the one I should have met on Tuesday evening. He wrote that he hadn't read his email until Wednesday, but that he was still very much interested in meeting me. I had no time to respond though -- and still haven't -- because Jake came over with a New York travel guide -- more about that later as well -- and a list of interesting places to visit. In return I had bought him the book 'The 85 ways to tie a tie', because he had recently bought his first suit and had mentioned that he didn't even know how to tie a single knot.

Finally it was Thursday. After dinner my date called me to say he was leaving home. Basically we live at different ends of the same long road, but he said he was terrible at navigation, so waited for him on a the bridge where he should get off the road. After a very long time, my phone rang. He was 'already' standing in front of my building. He had actually managed to take such a detour as to avoid the bridge I was standing on.

He parked his moped in the collective bicycle room and took off his helmet. On his profile pictures he looked good, but they really didn't do him justice: he was breathtakingly beautiful in real life. His height was perfect -- just a bit smaller than I am -- and he had a nice build: enough muscles to look athletic and not so much that it would feel too taut. His hair was short and jet black, his lips were very kissable, and under his thick, black eyebrows were the most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen. I couldn't believe I actually had a date with such a hunk.

We talked most of the evening. He didn't speak my language too well, but he refused to switch to English, because he wanted to learn. In fact, it was good enough for long conversations. He showed me photo's of his friends and family on the internet, and the city where he was born. All the time he had his arm around my shoulder. When at one point I put my arm around him, he kissed me.

We lay on the sofa in each others' arms and went on kissing. We changed positions so that he was the little spoon -- that's what he asked for -- and we lay like this for over an hour. Then he turned around and we kissed some more. He noticed I had got hard, just as he had, and asked if I was horny; he was too. I remarked that I preferred taking the time for sex. He proposed to have a romantic evening together on Saturday and sleep together then. I agreed: I'd cook a nice dinner for us, we'd watch a film, and we would spend the rest of the time getting to know one another better.

And that is what happened. In my next post I will tell about that evening and more about this remarkable guy.

Happy Easter

It's only a few days ago that I remarked to Rick that the number of readers of my blog is decreasing dramatically since I wrote about the weekend with Sam. Posts about my work, grandmother, depression, iPhone, etcetera are far less popular than those posts. I jested with Rick that it was time I lived and wrote another sex story.

Just when I least expected it, I had an even better one: I think I'm falling in love. This is definitely a happy Easter. He's coming over now; I'll write more later on.

Zero for Cherry

Coca Cola head office, department of Quality Control.

Junior colleague: Jack, do we still use cerasumine as an ingredient for Cherry Coke?

Jackdaw: I guess so, but I'm specialised in Classic Coke, and also Coke Zero lately. Stephen is our Cherry Coke specialist. You could give him a call; he's working at home today.

Junior colleague: Hi Stephen, I've got a short question. Do we still use cerasumine as an ingredient for Cherry Coke?

Stephen: Yes, certainly, that's never changed.

Junior colleague: Okay, thanks. Bye.

Stephen: Not so fast...

Junior colleague: Huh?

Stephen: Who wants to know? This is common knowledge in both our team and the Recipes department...

Junior colleague: Oh, just someone from Pepsi.

Stephen: You're not supposed to share that with anyone but our department and the guys from Recipes: it's highly classified information.

Junior colleague: Oh, okay. I didn't know that.


Change a few proper nouns, and I just witnessed this.

The junior colleague in question has been working within our team for over a year now. He should be happy that only Stephen and I caught his utterly foolish move, because we will keep our mouths shut. Norm is his immediate supervisor, and I'm sure that if he heard about his, he'd wouldn't shut up about it, and would probably get the guy fired.

Twisted quotes

Evan, our boss, and Norm (see One more funny story) have built a system for calculations of some kind. Stephen and I are helping them out every now and then if the workload is too much for them. We improve the system and write short internal memos describing the changes, in case someone would want to adjust them in the future. Norm was assigned to teach Stephen and me how the system worked, but he did a lousy job: he narrated lengthy stories about the history and the people involved, but he forgot to inform us about the caveats of the system. Nevertheless, we were about five times as fast as Norm. All finished projects are to be reviewed by at least one colleague though.

Norm: Jack, I don't know if Evan told you already, but you have to make an improvement to the system and if the deadline is already in five weeks. I hope you can start with it as soon as possible, because it will be about two weeks work, but it may be more as you are of course still learning. I can tell you a bit about the requirements if you want.

Jackdaw: Oh, yeah, Evan told me about the improvement yesterday, so I started immediately and I'm almost finished with it now. Do you have time to review it in the afternoon?

Norm: But, do you know that you should also write a memo about it and label everything?

Jackdaw: Yes, that's what I'm doing now, using your memos as a standard. I finished the actual improvement to the system yesterday.

In the afternoon Norm reviewed my work in great detail. He didn't have any comments about the system improvement, but he did about the note: "See, here you use the standard quotes around that word, but we always use quotation marks from another font because they look more curly. You gotta change that." "Change the font of the document?" I asked. "No," explained Norm, "only the font of the double quotes." The memo is a very technical document, and if anyone will ever read it, it will be someone from my team. No one cares about typography.

Norm agreed with the content, but had about thirty more typographical remarks. He didn't just summarise them, but instead he was talking to me for over an hour, boring me to death. I didn't agree with most of his criticism, but it wasn't worth a discussion so I politely thanked him for his extremely thorough review. I submitted the corrections and Norm wanted to review it again. This time he had some other typographical remarks. I made the proposed corrections and this repeated another three times, until Norm said, "I think it is good enough now to wrap it up. In the end, you cannot be too perfectionistic."

I've been writing these memos for other systems long before Norm was hired, and none of them took me longer than a few hours to write. Several other colleagues have reviewed my work and only rarely they noticed a mistake, and when they did, it had to do with the content. With Norm reviewing my work, the memo took me four full days to finish. I noticed how Stephen had the same problem with him.

At a personal evaluation Evan praised me for the combination of high quality and high speed of my work on their system, which was new to me. Indeed, I work about five times as fast as Norm, who's the expert on that system. However, Evan told me that Norm had complained about Stephen and me: he didn't get his own work done because Stephen and I had continuously asked him to review our unfinished memos. "I never gave Norm anything I didn't consider finished," was all I said.


Labels

Stephen and I have complained many times about the inconsistency in the labelling scheme on their system. Norm couldn't explain the logic behind it and told us to just use our own labelling scheme, ask him afterward how it should have been done, and then relabel.

Norm: Relabelling only takes about ten minutes.

Jackdaw: Ten minutes for each of us, every time... Why not use a labelling system with some logic behind it?

Norm: I told Evan the same thing a while ago, but he didn't want to change things.

Jackdaw: Why not?

Norm: He didn't say. He 'just' didn't want to change it. He's very stubborn and he doesn't see that the longer we wait, the more work it'll be. He just doesn't listen to my arguments.

Jackdaw: Evan is in tomorrow, so let's talk to him together then. He obviously doesn't realise who much time and data is lost because there is no logical labelling scheme. Whatever choice you two make is fine with me -- after all the system is your baby -- as long as you do make choice.

Norm thought it was a good idea, sat down behind his computer and a few minutes later he sent me an email saying, "I'm very grateful that you are backing me up on this. I hope Evan will finally be convinced."

The next day I asked Evan if he had time for a short discussion with Norm and me... but Norm suddenly said he had no time. In the afternoon he suddenly did have time, so we sat down in a meeting room and Norm started, "Jack has a problem with our labelling scheme..." I was on my own and Norm fully agreed with everything Evan said. I gave up. After all, it was not my problem but theirs.


Relabel

This week Stephen made another improvement to the system and labelled all his calculations,so they were easy to find. Then he asked Norm a question. Norm walked to Stephen's desk and kept on talking without saying anything useful, until he suddenly raised his voice in horror.

Norm: Your labels are all wrong! This way we cannot find anything back...

Stephen: Yes, I was using my own scheme as you told me to. So, tell me how to relabel them.

Norm: You will have to relabel everything!

Stephen: There's no logical scheme, so I just used my own and asked you how you want it afterwards.

Norm: Yeah, it's not your fault. Evan doesn't want to change a thing. He's so stubborn!

Jackdaw: Norm, there are two people backing you up on this. Talk to Evan!

Norm: I'll try and talk some sense into him during lunch. It's becoming more and more annoying that no one can find anything back due to our labelling scheme.


I went to the gym during lunch time and afterward I had a meeting with Evan about one of my own projects.

Jackdaw: By the by, Evan, did Norm and you speak about the labelling scheme in your system during lunch?

Evan: Briefly. He said Stephen fucked up by putting his own labels on everything, and that he found out and ordered Stephen to use the right ones.

I fucking hate Norm!

No gossip

Stephen is my favourite colleague. We work in a room with six other colleagues in almost total silence except for the occasional short discussion about work itself. And also and always the constant chattering of Norm about nothing (see One more funny story). Even the lunch break is spent talking about work mostly. I almost never talk about my private life except with Stephen during our daily walk to the train after work.

In January I noticed that he was wearing leisure clothes to work more often and that he had changed his hair style changed a bit. Then he started taking single days and afternoons off. At some point in February as he was putting on his coat to leave for another afternoon holiday, I made a joke about where he'd be going that afternoon, lowering the threshold for him to tell me what was going on. Since he didn't seize the opportunity I gave him, I was glad I hadn't asked him directly. That might have put him in an uncomfortable position. Later that day he sent me a text message telling me that he was with a girl, and that he had wanted to tell me about it privately for some time.

The next Monday when we walked to the train station he told me about the girlfriend. Over the next few weeks he also told the others in the office individually; earlier this week he told the last one: Todd. On Wednesday Stephen had a day off and during lunch someone wondered if he was with his girlfriend. Then my team members, especially Todd and Norm, started sharing the information Stephen had told them, and wondered if everyone already knew that he had a girlfriend. I had kept my mouth shut all the time, but at that moment I said, "I thought I noticed it in Stephen's expression when he took an afternoon off about a month ago, but I didn't want to ask him directly in a full room..." Todd then definitely shut me up by saying, "...but here you are, gossiping behind his back on his day off."

Springtime!

As a kid I always loved the winter. While it was cold outside and a layer of ice made the leafless trees look breathtaking, inside it was warm and cosy. We played board games, watched television, played computer games, and I could play with my toys for hours.

In springtime my parents would send me out of the house to play in the streets. Unfortunately, those were usually sport related games, meaning that I sucked at them (see Long ago: The secret weapon); outside was not the happiest place anyway (see Long ago: The name of the game). Summer would be even worse: throughout the very long school holiday, I was required to be outside most of the day.

Even as an adult I disliked the summer season because my friends usually wanted to play sports together while I always tried to avoid meeting new people at sports activities: me and a ball make for a first impression I can never make up for. Moreover, on very hot nights I have trouble sleeping. I prefer the temperature in my bedroom at low as possible: under the blankets it's always nice and warm.

This year, for the first time in my life, I'm glad it's springtime. My friends are getting older and prefer sitting outside with a cold beer and a nice chat over slipping in dog shit while trying to kick a ball around on a patch of patchy grass. Also, I'm looking forward to watching guys in summer clothes. Last year was the first occasion I noticed that particular advantage of summertime. Very enjoyable!

iSpent

My coat is for me what a handbag is for a woman. The pockets are always filled with stuff: an agenda, lip balm, a few perfume testers, all my keys, a phone, my wallet, my iPod, a note pad and a pen, two flavours of chewing gum, condoms, and more. Only when I go out for fun do I carry less, making sure I don't look chubby.

Ten years ago I bought a palmtop computer to replace the agenda, note pad and pen. It was around that time that cell phones gained popularity. I didn't want one back then. First of all, I didn't call much, but more importantly, I wanted to wait until phones and music players were integrated palmtops. I waited for years but my ideal gadget remained unaffordable.

Matthew hated the fact that I didn't have a cell phone, so when he bought his second, he gave me his old one. Since then I've been using my cell phone more and more often, and when Matthew got yet another phone, I got his newer old one.

Then the iPhone was introduced. I told my friends and colleagues that that was what I had been waiting for all this while and that I'd get one as soon as it was available in my country. Then I heard about the downsides of the iPhone, and so I decided to wait for the second generation. But, when that was introduced I had just broken up with Matthew and I wanted to check how much money I'd have left every month.

Interestingly enough, I save more money monthly than we used to have when we paid the same expenses from two salaries. Matthew lives on his own now and has about the same mortgage and salary as I have, but for some reason he exactly breaks even, while I save several hundreds of euros a months. Matthew is a big spender: he buys everything he lays eyes on.

Anyway, this week I revised my gas, water, electricity, television, radio, internet, and phone contracts for the first time since the break-up sixteen months ago, and I discovered that by swapping providers and services I could take an iPhone and save fifty more euros a month. So, when a colleague visited his girlfriend abroad last weekend, I asked him to bring an iPhone back with him -- it was cheaper over there.

Friday evening at dinner time I had a chat with Sam who told me that I should cancel it immediately, because very soon, i.e. on the eighth of June, Apple would introduce a new iPhone and the one I was about to buy would then drop more than five hundred euro in price. Unfortunately, I didn't have my colleague's phone number. On Saturday just after lunch I received a text message from him, letting me know that he purchased the gadget for the agreed price. Ironically, now I knew his number.

Monday he handed it over and I've been busy installing, configuring, and playing with it ever since. I considered it worth the price in the first place, and the information about expected future price changes have nothing to do with my iPhone. No reason to feel sorry. And, most importantly: I just love my new toy!