7/26/2004
 
Do you wish on stars? No

A bit of genealogy. My Mother up and moved to New Zealand when I was nearly four. My memory of things before this point are a bit sketchy (I remember an Alsatian I liked playing with and this one time my friend ate too much chocolate cake and puked up on my bed while we were bouncing on it) but I didn’t officially meet my Dad until I came back to London a few years ago. I know what you’re thinking – wow, that must have been incredible, you must have felt like a piece of you was made whole again – but to be honest it was an anticlimax. My Dad’s great; proper Irish, funny with it and he loves me to bits. I’m very lucky. I know it pains him that he hasn’t seen me grow up and that, now, I seem ambivalent about our relationship.

Relationships or one-night stands? dont believe in the latter so relationships

It’s hard integrating him back into my life. I wasn’t one of these kids who had a chip on his shoulder about not having the old man around. I was a pragmatic SOB as a kid and very lucky to have such a loving family which meant I didn’t feel I was missing out on anything. I definitely didn’t blame him for not being around, and although info from my mother was sketchy, I always felt confident that we would meet.

Which finger is your favourite? they're all excellent

Would you ever bungee jump? Hell no!

What's your favourite ice cream flavour? toffee


So sitting on the top of a Double Decker bus three years ago, my Dad rings my mobile. We arrange for me to go over to see him. I meet my sister Susanne (9) and my brother Alex (16). I’m the prodigal son returned and we drink Guinness and at some point my Dad rolls a joint and I get so stoned that I tell him I have to go to bed and kind of fall on him when I give him a hug goodbye. I didn’t tell him I was gay to begin with, but when I did he was brilliant about it. My brother has come and stayed with me in London a few times. He’s a really good kid – smart, kind. Susanne is a shock of white hair and a smile that could warm the Antarctic Ocean. I’ve got another baby brother now too – little James. In fact, I have this incredible family unit on this side of the Atlantic so why don’t I make more of an effort with them? I put it down to being busy. My Dad sometimes makes me feel guilty for not calling sooner which inevitably makes me call even less. And there’s a sense that I’m not sure what I want from them as there’s no emotional void for them to fill. I already have my Mothers and sisters – a more loving and dynamic gaggle of women you’re unlikely to meet. Still - why doesn’t something lurch in my stomach now I know that I’m also my Father’s son?

Do you wear contacts? nope but may be i shud get them im getting so short sighted it's crazy

Brothers & sisters names? Drew, Susanne, James

I received an email from my brother today. It’s one of those 50 question jobbies that you email to all your friends. Except he emailed it to me too. Reading through it I realised how much I didn’t know about him yet.

When did you last cry? this morning

And that’s when it hit me. I may not know what I want, but right now my brother and sister and my Dad miss me. That’s reason enough for me to be in their life a little bit more, don't you think?
 

Yeah, yeah, email me

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sites what I write on:
londonist

sites what I wrote on:
über: I haven't been completely honest
somewhat.org: on the up

blogs:

christopher
elizabeth

boys:

tlc
homorobotic
sex, lies & videotape
diamond geezer
vivid blurry
raw youth
secret simon
learn swedish
the rob log
why god why
a beautiful revolution

girls:

dooce
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pound
jems web
lindsayism

pulse:

timmy ray
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fantastic blogs:

a light fantastic
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a kitchen fantastic
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a clock fantastic

tools:

life hacker
i hate work
hi-gloss film production



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