9:34 a.m. - 2004-01-08
good times, ish
It is raining like a bastard this Londonian morning. And me without an umbrella, of course. I am consistently shocked by the nature of the weather here. I was expecting frigid cold, but every day it stays around 40 or 50 degrees. Which probably pisses the hell out of my Montana mates, since it is apparently ballsingly cold there rightabout now. But it is so fucking damp and murky that if I go out walking like a madman, blasting music and strutting and window shopping, I start to sweat. Then I stay sort of sweaty for the rest of the day because it's too humid for me to cool down. I look a bit odd, peeling my coat off, rolling up my sleeve, with the businesspeople of this fine city roll on by in their thick tweed coats.
My roommates continue to be wildmen. One of them is a really cute, brilliant, pseudo-bisexual fellow. I can feel him looking at me, sometimes. We got sloshed a few nights ago, and he was kind of all over me. We always fall into each other on the tube, sharing an awkward smile, wanting to touch longer.
I was hoping to keep my record clean from sleeping with straight boys, but I think it is okay to mess around with him a wee bit. Oh, did I mention he has a child and used to be married to one of my friends? Don't tell anyone, yo. Or at least don't judge. After the Berlin incident, I'm getting what I can where I can. Although I think I might do a bit of wandering through Fagsville (Soho) and see if there are any takers out. I just bought some new jeans, and they look amazing. I'm rocking the faggy rock n'roll cowboy look today.
I have been having dreams almost every night since I arrived in Europe. This is odd, because my unconscious was so blank, I think because I was so active during the day (not that I know a damn thing about these things). Last night was a dream of my prof, who lost his glasses and shaved his beard, which somehow transformed him into a completely different person. It was weirdly significant, because the boys and I are having a beard-off at the moment. There has also been talk of smallish British flag tattoos to commemorate our time together. And what a fucking time it is...I love those kids.
