Posted now; written last night en route
Aug. 31st, 2003 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jawnbcI’m sitting in the International Transfer area of Auckland International Airport in New Zealand (pronounced “uhkluhn uhntuhnuhshuhnuhl uhpuht uhn Nuh Zuhluhnd”. Someone please buy these lovely Kiwi folks a vowel). There are workstations with power plugs and stationery and jacks for dial-up web access. As if most international business jackaroos have dial up #s for Auckland? Can you say Ethernet or (gasp) wireless please?
I’ve already lost 8 of 9 battles here in the telecommunication wars. First internet kiosk froze when I tried to log onto Gaydar (to see if I could IM![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
querrelle). Second one worked, but when I tried to view my or querrelle’s LJ blog, a local page popped warning of “possible adult content, not suitable for viewing at a public terminal.” Grrrr. Next I tried to use up the pile of NZ gold coins I found in my luggage and call querrelle. We actually got to speak once out of 4 calls—all of which happily took my $2. Finally I called collect. Just this once…nothing worse than finally hearing from someone with whom you long to speak, only to have them cut off and not ring back.
So we chatted for 10 or so and it was grand. We’re both sort of staggering around today. It was a tough morning at Sydney International Airport. I have never been so devastated by a good-bye before. Not family, not other lovers or friends. Sad yeah, but not the legs knocked out from under me. Ç’était dûr ça.
I could speak forquerrelle and I here—we’ve discussed these things at length—but I won’t. I’ll just speak me. Not a day’s gone by that I’ve not been (happily) overwhelmed by the depth of my love for Max (querrelle’s name, for those out of the loop). From our first chat online (we met initially for a root/boink), first meeting (root/boink with dinner and a sleep over), heck when I see him and when I don’t, he inspires me. He makes me want to be kinder, more sensitive and braver. He makes me feel important the way only someone who adores you can. And he does it all with such class and so cleverly and so humourously. And the chemistry between us is….breathtaking.
We know we’re lucky, that we’re getting more than our shares of joy through our love affair. So we’re not squandering it, or taking it for granted, or pissing and moaning about that which doesn’t suit us in other areas of our lives. We’re endeavouring to be grateful. We’ve each got one foot firmly planted on the ground.*
I don’t write about it much here, but my life is built on a solid yet simple spirituality. Stay present; stay connected. Give thanks. Give back. Take the high road. Be a quiet example. Celebrate the richness and complexity in gawd’s creation. During our separation I’ll have to stick even closer to these principles (funny how easy it is to skip ‘em when all’s well). But the work is nothing compared to the payoff.
Slan
[*except when alien birthing chair is implemented]
I’ve already lost 8 of 9 battles here in the telecommunication wars. First internet kiosk froze when I tried to log onto Gaydar (to see if I could IM
querrelle). Second one worked, but when I tried to view my or querrelle’s LJ blog, a local page popped warning of “possible adult content, not suitable for viewing at a public terminal.” Grrrr. Next I tried to use up the pile of NZ gold coins I found in my luggage and call querrelle. We actually got to speak once out of 4 calls—all of which happily took my $2. Finally I called collect. Just this once…nothing worse than finally hearing from someone with whom you long to speak, only to have them cut off and not ring back.So we chatted for 10 or so and it was grand. We’re both sort of staggering around today. It was a tough morning at Sydney International Airport. I have never been so devastated by a good-bye before. Not family, not other lovers or friends. Sad yeah, but not the legs knocked out from under me. Ç’était dûr ça.
I could speak for
querrelle and I here—we’ve discussed these things at length—but I won’t. I’ll just speak me. Not a day’s gone by that I’ve not been (happily) overwhelmed by the depth of my love for Max (querrelle’s name, for those out of the loop). From our first chat online (we met initially for a root/boink), first meeting (root/boink with dinner and a sleep over), heck when I see him and when I don’t, he inspires me. He makes me want to be kinder, more sensitive and braver. He makes me feel important the way only someone who adores you can. And he does it all with such class and so cleverly and so humourously. And the chemistry between us is….breathtaking.We know we’re lucky, that we’re getting more than our shares of joy through our love affair. So we’re not squandering it, or taking it for granted, or pissing and moaning about that which doesn’t suit us in other areas of our lives. We’re endeavouring to be grateful. We’ve each got one foot firmly planted on the ground.*
I don’t write about it much here, but my life is built on a solid yet simple spirituality. Stay present; stay connected. Give thanks. Give back. Take the high road. Be a quiet example. Celebrate the richness and complexity in gawd’s creation. During our separation I’ll have to stick even closer to these principles (funny how easy it is to skip ‘em when all’s well). But the work is nothing compared to the payoff.
Slan
[*except when alien birthing chair is implemented]
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no subject
Date: 2003-09-01 08:02 am (UTC)yes, i agree about how blase we get when all is going well. forgetting to give thanks etc. i reckon you are a bit of alright ya know mate!
no subject
Date: 2003-09-01 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-02 06:23 am (UTC)the playlist you sent through only had one song written on it!!! hahaha! but it's ok, i still like the music very much without knowing who it is. :-) :-)