Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

I had to go to London for work today, and back.

The experiences of the two journeys could hardly have been more different.

( This is the good half. )

She got me to my train, and left me with the gift of all my train tickets and the ability to have everything charged by the time I got off the train.

I've written so much, and it's so late and I'm so tired, I think I'll have to save the stories of my return journey for tomorrow.

R.I.P. James Harrison, Australian hero, whose blood contained a rare antibody used to create medication to protect babies from a rare blood disorder.

Having the antibody was just luck. What made him a hero was donating plasma every two weeks without missing one appointment for 60+ years.

I wrote in October about how excited I was to go swimming in the trans-specific session and then when I got there it was double-booked. "I'll try again next month," I said, and the next month was double booked too.

In December I was let down by public transport and in January we had visitors. In September I was away for work and in August I had to do Gary-care and so on and so forth.

I'd known about this swimming thing for ever and I'd never been able to go!

Today I finally did.

It was surprisingly emotional, to be in an indoor pool again for the first time since I lived across the road from one and had a regular gym membership so that must be six years now. I didn't go a lot though: it was stressful for accessibility-related reasons as well as gender ones I couldn't identify yet.

So stepping in to the warm water was heavenly. I have had a okay time swimming in outdoor pools but it's rare I've gotten the chance to and it's not very accessible especially as I need a wetsuit to do that: just too many things to keep track of and getting changed outdoors is stressful enough for me anyway.

Today's session was well attended but not too big for the little pool. The trainer made sure there was space for me on one edge as I like so I can touch the wall and stay straight (ha) that way as it's impossible for me otherwise.

I still swim on my back as a kind of accessibility thing: it means people won't expect me to be able to see them so hopefully don't mind if I run in to them. So I just do my elementary backstroke and it's so chill and lovely. I don't have to think about it and can just let my mind wander. I'd forgotten how much I used to do this and how good it is for me.

Plenty to think about lately.

After our buffet dinner, I said "...I actually think I might have had slightly too much cheese?"

D narrowed his eyes at me. "Who are you and what have you done with Erik?"

I held up a finger and said "I got him an all-inclusive holiday!"

"All inclusive cheese!" D said, and I agreed! I'd had two small drinks, that's fine, but really it was all the cheese that's the real self-care at this point!

The great thing about a joint birthday party where the combined ages of the two birthday people is One Hundred is that you can make everyone leave at 8pm because you're tired and you can have the kitchen cleaned up and be ready for bed by 9.

V and I have been sharing a birthday party since before I lived here, when I couldn't host (location) and they couldn't host (activity) so we combined our powers. We did it biggest in 2019 (and gave out colorfully-wrapped individual rolls of toilet paper in a party favor that felt silly at the time and was gonna seem prescient in a couple months). Then we had a couple quiet years with lockdowns and whatnot (including my 40th birthday, which I'm sad I couldn't make a big deal out of), and a couple times we've had two or three guests who've managed to make it at a time of year when the weather sucks and everyone's ill and etc.

So today it was great to have a whole roomful. It was great that I was brave enough to invite people from trans gym. It was great that people V could meet people they have so far only heard us talk about, and seemed delighted with everyone. It was great that it happens to be when a pal I haven't seen since way before covid happened to be in town and can stay with us. It's great a friend braved buses to get here from a faraway part of the conurbation.

It was great that people came in masks, or willing to wear them. It is great that we had people feel able to tell us that they were ill or their roommate had covid or whatever so they had to stay away. Community is possible even under the conditions we need people to agree to. For V especially who doesn't get to get out, it's such access intimacy for people to meet the standards needed to keep them safe. I feel so loved; it's such good access intimacy.

D was teasing me on our way to see the Lil Nas X documentary this evening that the attempts to include other people in the outing had failed (P's coming down with something, V had a bad night and it'd mean leaving Gary alone until his bedtime which is unfair on the little doofus) so it was just us two.

"Oh no, the worst," I said, because this is what we always say to each other at the prospect of the other's company.

But it gave him a chance to tell me he'd booked a two-seater sofa as our cinema tickets, "so we can snuggle." And we did!

Afterwards we went to eat and had some Wagamama-fancy cocktails (I really liked my "pad thai sour," rum, passionfruit, lemongrass, lime, and tamarind), nice salads, chili mushrooms, and "Korean vegan corn dogs," which were veggie dogs with crispy noodle crumb where the, uh, corn would be. Drizzled with red sriracha and some kind of yellow turmeric-y sauce, they looked exactly like they would with ketchup and mustard which was amusing.

We had a very nice server but when we asked to pay the bill another member of staff came out and she chatted to us while I was failing to work the card machine (sorry nice dude, you deserved a tip, I just fucked it up!) about Pride and similar. She went back inside and we got ourselves and our stuff ready to go. And then she came back outside with a tote bag for each of us, Pride-related things that Wagamama give out in some kind of event -- she said she has the tote bag for International Women's Day and all sorts. She also said they're normally just for staff! I don't know what compelled her to share them with us like that on such short and mundane acquaintance, but we were both delighted and touched at the gesture.

As we were leaving, I said that between this and Lil Nas X I felt like I'd done enough (Manchester) Pride-related stuff already. And since it was sorta accidentally a date-like activity, that fit too.

"What a nice day it's been," I mused as we held hands and strolled through the sunset towards a pub we'd decided to go to.

"What a nice gay," D said.

We walked through Lincoln Square and he said "Gaybraham Lincoln."

We had our pints under cover, and after we'd been summoned home by reports of a dog who'd been very good but now that it was getting to bedtime he was wound up, we suddenly could hear rain pelting down just as we were having to contemplate going to the bus stop.

As we stood up and prepared ourselves for the deluge, the rain stopped!

We figured this was just another part of our charmed gay evening. "After we've had our pint of gayle [gay ale]," D said, "and...la-gay..."

It was a nice gay.

To have a sunny day, warm enough that you can wear shorts, and that you can sit outside on the patio after work, waiting for your boyfriend to finish work so you can go on a bike ride.

To be patiently and accessibly shown, again, how to use the weird little battery-powered pump to pump up bike tires (something that always seems necessary for sporadic cyclists such as ourselves), determined to do so again before I forget, so I can be a little less dependent on others to do chores for me.

To zoom away on speedy tires at the perfect PSI, making for easy going even on my preferred route which is off-road but more hilly than most places in this flat city named after a hill that isn't there any more.

To emerge and explore a little of a part of the city where I had two boyfriends (sequential, not overlapping) living in the same bedroom for several years but haven't had so many reasons to visit it since.

To end up outside a pub, locking our bikes together while D goes to procure drinks, sitting watching old men in flat caps and Good Dogs being walked nearby because it's a sunny evening.

To drink a perfectly nice beer, a known quantity, and eventually wiggle closer to D on the picnic bench so we can hold hands.

To go inside to get the next round, petting a giant black labrador sitting between the bar and the menu on the wall.

To bike home in what feels like a quickly encroaching night, two months after the solstice. I get a little chilly but tell myself it's worth it for the ease of making this trip without having to bring or wear a hoodie, something I rarely get to do.

To get home to a dog who's ecstatic to see us.

To stand in the kitchen eating the takeout that arrived while we were out: halloumi and Lebanese bread and salad and homemade hummus, so oily I make a mess of trying to acquire a portion for myself and instead just stand at the kitchen countertop happily stuffing my face.

To go to bed soon after, because all the biking and beer and food has left me so sleepy.

I ended up in tears at bedtime on Sunday. Something that hasn't happened in a while.

D came to bed soon after, offering cuddles and concern. He asked me what was wrong, I choked out "a lot of things." "Pick one," he said.

So I talked about work. It sucks on a micro (can't do my job because of blockage within the organization) and macro (literally in the news) level at the same time, which is really difficult to deal with. One or the other, you can kinda let tht one go for a bit and focus on the other one. Both at once... and with no end in sight... It's a lot.

I was unenthused about a day off, but he offered to have a day off with me. Which at the time just meant I was being held accountable for actually doing it, heh. But by Tuesday morning, when I couldn't get out of bed and the concept of getting dressed felt unfathomable, it helped a lot to be able to tell myself you'll get a day off this week.

D had told me any of Wednesday, Thursday or Friday would be good for him. I checked my calendar on Monday at work and that evening told him that the one that'd work for me is Thursday.

Tuesday at work, I realized that I'd meant to tell him Wednesday.

As someone said, this is proof enough that I need a break.

He very kindly swapped his day off and I tried to do so as well (it's a little more complicated for me because I can't un-book time off; I can book it myself but only my manager or HR can deny it!). And so we had today off already!

We slept all morning, I turned off my alarm which isn't unusual but I didn't hear any of D's either which is unprecedented. We slept until around 11. It felt great.

Before I even got out of bed, I had some good news which is that I'm finally not listed as a director for a company I don't have anything to do with. It has taken forever but they did accept it with my explanation: "I don't have utilities in my name; other people live here as well. And Erik is the name I am known by but not the name on legal paperwork so I am unsure how to prove it. I'm also unsure why I should be having to prove this when no such proof was needed for someone else to enter me into legal and financial responsibilities without my knowledge or consent."

Also before I got out of bed, I was already learning charming new things about Tim Walz from comments on a friend's Facebook post:

When he was teaching high school he started the first GSA at the school. In 1999. And later said it had to be him. It had to be the straight, married, former soldier, and football coach. He knew it had to be him. There just keep being more things I like about him.

and

I've gotten to know his type of Minnesota democrat through my husband's family and.... yeah, they're a good lot. I'm so excited for people to get to know this kind of politician! & he reminds me, in a few ways, of my deceased father in law, who I wish were here to see this!!

and

I saw someone say, "Tim Walz is the dad we lost to Rush Limbaugh and Fox News." 💔😭

(This has lots more hearts and sobbing-emojis and " I just.... Whew... Full body reaction." / "... I didn't know I was holding that pocket of grief. Thank you." / "Ow. Yeah. I haven't felt actual dad vibes I wanted in a damn-too-long." / "BIG BIG OOF". Left me being grateful that my dad always has been and still is not having any of that Rush Limbaugh/Fox News nonsense.)

While I was waiting to get dressed (gotta let the planned manitizer dry) and putting away a basketful of laundry I'd done yesterday, D had taken the dog for a walk already, and made me coffee! It was waiting for me by the time I got downstairs. As the usual first-one-up, I love being looked after in the mornings particularly; I love the quiet hours to myself but I also love it when someone else makes me coffee/tea.

Gary got his favorite thing, which was a day of all his humans in the same room. More or less. When D and I went out this afternoon to get some topsoil and compost from B&M, rather than getting V to come downstairs to keep the dog company in his current unwillingness/inability to use the stairs himself, I brought Gary up. Something we normally only do at night, so it was a little confusing for him but it meant V could continue painting and drawing where all their stuff is and didn't just have to dogsit. Apparently he was really good, and it was sweet to see him waiting at the top of the stairs (where he can see the front door), looking out for us when we came home.

He got most of the way down the stairs on his own once he realized that D and I had brought back sandwiches for all the humans to have for lunch. That dog is an utter fiend for sandwiches, he absolutely loves them. It's baffling. But we complimented his dedication to doing the stairs by himself.

Taking him upstairs worked just as well later in the day when D and I wanted to lie down; he napped happily in my room and eventually went to go complain to V that his other humans were being boring and not doing anything important like paying attention to the dog.

D suggested I could choose some takeout tonight for my day off. I pointed out it was his day off too, but he said it was because of me and treats for me were good. (I am typing this on a cheap keyboard with LED lights in a rainbow under the keys, something I've coveted and also my work-supplied keyboard is starting to die, and also this was only £10 so he got it for me.) So we had burgers and stuff from a new-to-us place since the one we like seems to have closed or changed ownership. The food was okay but not as good as the old place. I was envious of D's milkshake though; I hadn't thought to look at those on the menu and he got my favorite kind (chocolate mint); I had a taste and was wistful.

It has been such a lovely day.

I know most people would prefer a long weekend but I actually love the way this worked out; two 2-day "workweeks" per week feels so much more manageable. A single day off can't fix any of my problems at work, but it has meant that I feel much more okay about going back to work tomorrow.

When I asked for nice things the other day, a local person who randomly found me on Mastodon and knew D very slightly for the most random reason sent me a photo of a sign for a local "queer club" that happens once a month.

Also it's in a community centre, not a pub/bar so it doesn't cost anything for attendees and it isn't based around alcohol like so many queer events are. And you don't even have to go In To Town! (Though it's east of my house, and east-west routes are so poorly served by public transport here that I walked to and from, which my ankle did not thank me for last night or this morning!) It wasn't even all white or all people under 35, which is a big deal for queer stuff.

There was an activity, making fabric or paper flags to save at our local pride in August, but there was no compulsion to do it: people could just chat and have tea or biscuits if they wanted.

I made a lot of flags. I can't draw and I like words (see evidence passim), which was quicker work than people painstakingly making art, working on their progress pride flags (there was only one brown and one light blue/gray sharpie, so there was some marker-stealing between the tables), and so on.

Slogans I enflagged:

• give us meds but give us roses too (stolen from a friend's report of a trans protest in London last year); I actually tried to draw some pink roses and some blue bottles of testosterone gel like mine undermeath that

• goblin pride (D calls me a goblin all the time so I feel like I did this on his behalf)

• short king himbo pride (this partly based on a recent conversation where I'd described myself as the himbo garden worker; MB has the knowledge/skills/eyesight, I literally do the heavy lifting, and suchlike chores that are too demanding for her)

• trans disability immigrant solidarity (all written inside a heart), with "no body is illegal" on the other side of that flag; this is a repeat of something I chalked on the ground while protesting a TERF event last year)

After that, a friend of my Mastodon acquaintance called my name as I was leaving, asking if I wanted to go to the pub. I didn't really; it was already late and I'd had a long day and people had been nice (someone said to me at one point, "You have an infectious laugh, has anyone ever told you that?" and I could honestly say that no one has! wild!) but I didn't really know anybody...

But then they said "I've never been to [Erik's old local] before" and I brightened right up. I absolutely wanted to go to the pub. Half a dozen of us did, and we had a very silly fun time. The landlord came out and was his usual warm, charming endearing self. When I said I used to go to the pub quiz all the time, he remembered me, which is pretty impressive considering me and the shifting group of friends I went with were never exactly regulars and weren't the most memorable people. He's getting on -- he told us they've just celebrated 18 years of running this pub. He and his wife are retirement age now but I can't imagine it without him.

Wild to think I was going to the pub quiz in the first half of their time here. It felt very weird to pay with a card there -- I don't know if I'd ever done that before! And now I never do anything else...

My three flags and I got home late enough that it disrupted Gary's routine, oops. But it was such a fun night and I'm so glad to be making a little progress on the seemingly-hopeless goal of meeting new people and replacing the queer community that ghosted me in the last four years.

My boyfriend achieved the culmination of the first six months of hard work at his job today, I'm so impressed with him and so proud of him I bought him a lot of beer to celebrate, and we had a lot of sunshine to drink it in and we had old and new friends to share it with.