I'm Mandy, fly me!

Oh alright then, I'm obviously not, but the idea amuses me! I blame Barry - he likes to introduce me to music I don't know, and when I saw him and Jan last night it was the turn of Pink Floyd and 10CC. Neither of them were as impressive as the fact that he was playing them from his computer using his Xbox. What is it with boys and their toys?!

They have also been enjoying the services of my lovely handyman with the twinkle in his eyes. Lucky them! It was lovely to see them, sit on their new sofa - which is larger that several of the rooms in my house - and catch up! xx

Today has been a bit lazy. The next three weekends will be busy, so I'm making the most of a quiet one. I ended up taking Mum shopping to get a birthday gift for my brother-in-law, who is 40 next week. But it turned into a bit of a shoe shop for Mum, who expected me to have an opinion on identical black flat shoes. The best I could manage was, "how about a pair of brown ones?" I clearly didn't get my shoe gene from her!

And now I'm waiting for the arrival of the 24 year old. More about that tomorrow.

I'm a man who likes facts and proof, I've no time for the unproven: God, UFOs, superstitions, luck, ghosts, any of that crap. And yet I can't resist horoscopes! I read at least one a day, despite knowing that they're meaningless crap, I can't help myself! I don't really expect them to provide any answers although if they do suggest caution I'm always sure to follow that advice.

Years ago when Trish & I used to go to the gay pub in King's Lynn an essential part of any Friday night was reading the horoscopes in Boyz magazine, written by an astrologer called Starman, who was so unnervingly accurate that we thought it was written by someone we knew!

Now I'm reduced to daily horoscopes from tarot.com, which generally get the mood of my day right, and sometimes, like yesterday, are spot on:

"Fortunately, your evening may offer the respite you seek, even though it could be challenging for you to enjoy it. A hectic day increases your desire for a bit of peace and quiet, but you will probably be bored when you finally get it. Remember, there's no need for you to create drama where none exists."

So, let's break that down: "respite" - I've had a dreadful week work-wise and certainly need to take my mind off it, which was luck as I'd planned to go to a comedy club. With work people, which clearly falls under "challenging". And the bit about being bored of the peace and quiet is also completely true. As is my tendency to be a bit dramatic. So, well done horoscope!!

And how was the comedy club? Well, actually it turned out to be a fun evening. I don't go to see much comedy - I used to, but then all of a sudden comedy was everywhere and it wasn't all great, and somewhere along the way I just got tired of it. There's nothing worse than a really bad comic, as last night's first comedian demonstrated. He arrived on stage in a beige zip-up cardigan that screamed "middle-aged Dad on the school run" and proceeded to be only intermittently funny.

The second act was much better, a Portuguese comedian who was also ridiculously handsome! He did some great accents and had such a grasp on English culture that I half wondered if the accent was put on for comedic effect. And he read a great poem about how he likes people to leave after sex, which was funny and very true. Pity he was talking about women in it really.

The final act were the bravest booking of the evening, a gay musical duo called Topping & Butch who I'd heard of but never seen. One of them is thin with a shaved head, who arrived on stage in tiny read leather shorts and a leather harness, the other is stockier with a shaved head, and had a rubber vest and a leather kilt - I doubt King's Lynn has seen the like before! It could have all been quite unpleasant but they were really funny, a mixture of stuff about politics and sex, and everyone seemed to enjoy them, although someone I work with today described them as "terrifying". He needs to get out more!

It was all held together by a compere, an ugly, skinny little man with Paul Weller's bad hair and a strange Dickensian way about him. He really got going as the night went on, and ended with a crescendo of police baiting - there was a table of CID in - which he seemed to enjoy far more than he ought to have.

So a surprisingly fun evening!

Pancakes and Sex

Yesterday was Shrove Tuesday, the day before the start of Lent, when traditionally people used up some of their richer foods before embarking on a period of self-denial before Easter. In this country it's celebrated with pancakes, which always cause me to remark, "oooh, I'd forgotten how great pancakes are, I must eat them more often!" Inevitably I never do. See you next year for the same!

I normally like to give up something for Lent. Not because I'm madly religious, but because it's easy to get used to having everything as soon as you want it so it's nice to be reminded what it feels like to want something you can't have. But what to give up? Well tradition would demand a foodstuff but I have to say I'm not in the right state of mind to give up chocolate or any other comfort foods. And I'm not risking social exclusion by giving up alcohol!

My preferred option is work, which is hateful at the moment - six weeks away from it sounds like absolute heaven! But not in this economic climate! Which leaves men. I've sort of cut back on them a bit anyway this year, and I'm not sure I want to embrace complete abstinence although I do find the idea very appealing!

Having said that I did have a gentleman caller last night, the one I'd put off last week. And what a treat he turned out to be! He's one of those people who doesn't look like himself in photographs - in reality he was animated, funny and had bright blue eyes, whereas in his pictures he looked a bit old and straight-laced. He was big and beefy too, with a big smile. And he owns a house in Hampstead. And another in the country. Although I know there's no benefit from judging my life against someone else's it's hard not to, and frankly he's in a completely different league to me!

Which became blindingly obvious when we went to bed. I'm self-aware enough to know that I'm a very average shag, but I can get away with it as I have a winning smile, a ridiculously hairy chest, am eager to please, and pick my partners carefully - usually ones that are desperate enough that they won't be disappointed. Hence the married men.... But he was in a complete other class! It was like porn sex, the kind of sex you see and think, "no one has sex like that!" when what you really mean is, "I've never had sex like that!" I tried not to be ridiculously grateful because it's not a good look!

He made me feel shockingly provincial thoough, not deliberately or in a nasty way, it's just that I had a moment of complete clarity about where I fit into the scheme of things. Big fish in a small pond? Litter in a puddle more like. None of this is said self-pityingly, I'm just being honest. And this doesn't mean he won't be coming back.

I'm a river! Sarah's lovely boyfriend David spotted this on his travels round Scotland.

I was very nearly called Craig but Dad changed his mind at the last minute - thank you Dad!

So last night was Oscar night. It's not a big deal in this house for several reasons: because of the time difference it happens whilst I'm asleep, which means you get the rest as news and lose all the anticipation and excitement of seeing them announced; the US get films 2-3 months before the UK so not all of the films have been out here, so I can't fully appreciate the differences; and I'm slightly allergic to gushy, sentimental speeches.

And yet somehow this year the Oscars just seem to have got it right!

I'm glad Slumdog Millionaire won Best Film, because it had so much energy, which is not something I heard anyone say about the stupid Benjamin Button thing.

And I'm pleased Sean Penn got Best Actor, because he did a fantastic job, and it's getting a bit tiresome seeing actors playing gay characters getting overlooked at these kind of things.

Which brings me to Heath Ledger, who really should have won an Oscar for Brokeback Mountain but didn't. So they gave him a supporting one for The Dark Knight instead, which is too little too late. It's a good film, but is too loud and messy to be great, and to be honest Batman Begins is better, so can we stop raving about it please?

I loved the fact that Man on Wire got Best Documentary, because it was fantastic!

And finally, why did Kate Winslet have such bad hair!?

Yesterday felt like the first day of spring, even though I guess we're a few weeks away from that. It was so lovely that I had the car roof down - I couldn't resist, as I went out at 5pm the sun was starting to go down, turning everything pink, purple and orange, it was too beautiful for words! Of course an hour later when I reached my destination it was dark and more than a little chilly, but it was so joyous I haven't really stop smiling about it since.

Last night I went to see FM & BF. The original plan had been to join them for a days house-hunting in Kent, but they had someone coming to look at their own house so that's been postponed and instead I went round for dinner. FM cooked liver and bacon, which was lovely! We sat round the dinner table eating it and chatting about property, work, relationships, and you could have easily mistaken it for any middle class dining room on a Saturday night. Except we abandoned the pudding - jam roly poly - and took to bed instead.

Their latest idea is for me to move to Kent with them. When they first mentioned it to me I assumed they were joking and laughed, but apparently they're deadly serious. It's a ridiculous idea, mostly because I don't want to move to Kent! It's like when you go on holiday and you come back and wish every day was like that, but of course it can't be - it's a break from real life, but not real life! Or am I just too unimaginative to think that life could actually be like that? I momentarily toyed with the idea as I drifted off to sleep last night, but it's never going to happen, I've no intention in sharing property with anyone, although at tiny part of me thinks it might be fun.

Today is my sister's birthday, so there has been cake and presents. She was 38 and the fact that she's nearly 40 makes me feel older in a way that my own ageing doesn't. In my head she'll always be much younger than that, although confusingly I think of her as more grown-up than me as she's done all the things you expect adults to do, whereas I've just been shopping for the last twenty years!