the_vulture: (Default)
Yep, it's a bit of a change that's taking some getting used to, but I'm enjoying it.  :)
the_vulture: (tvhead)
a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"

asked the unintentionally cruel aunt
like she does every time she visits
too occasionally to explain
the lonely sorrow that is being
a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"

the answer is always an awkward mutter
those who truly know me never ask
it's an unvoiced understanding
they know about, but never speak of
a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"

the words cut a savage reminder
of all the things I'll never have
a wife, kids, the love that comes with them
all lost to me, as no one wants
a romantic asexual

"When are you going to get married?"

a prison sentence pronounced as a question
invisible bars of loneliness between me
and the joy I see everyone else share
half a life of heartache, and half a life to go, as
a romantic asexual
the_vulture: (Default)
In anticipation of [info]ysabetwordsmith 's Poetry Fishbowl concerning alternative sexuality and gender studies, I've written a poem describing one of the key challenges I face as a romantic (and very much touch starved) asexual.

(Yes, I was listening to a lot of Leonard Cohen whilst writing this.)

Because I do not touch that way

Not for me are the sweaty grapplings, concealed in the dark.
I kiss, I touch, with deep embrace, but never reach that mark.
The lesson was so hard to learn, so many hearts did fall,
that, as I do not touch that way, I cannot touch at all.

Kinsey’s X is what I am, and, of us, there should be more,
many with such sexless yearnings that I could so adore.
Yet here I am with none to hold, none near that I recall,
and, since I do not touch that way, I cannot touch at all.

The nearest heart to call my own, a thousand miles away.
With but voices we caress and with only letters play.
But what will become of us, when lonely nights come to call?
For, as we do not touch that way, we cannot touch at all.

There should be more hope and I should have some reason for cheer,
as the call is now raised loud for all the Xs to hear.
Yet, at night with no one to hold, I dread what may befall,
because I do not touch that way, I’ll never touch at all.
the_vulture: (Default)
Raising my voice alongside [ profile] fayanora, [profile] dancingwriterand many, many others:

Keith Olbermann Speaks Out On Prop 8
the_vulture: (Default)
 To me, few songs speak more of love and devotion that this wonderful piece by the late, great Australian musician, Baterz: audio/6a00c2251d31da604a00d09e670d95be2b .html 

(Sorry, no lyrics on hand; you'll just have to listen to the song.)

the_vulture: (Default)
 As an English teacher in a secondary school, I wind up going through a LOT of Shakespeare, especially for SAT and coursework preparation. In doing so, I find all sorts of interesting little side thoughts that I just really have to express.

I'll start with Romeo from Romeo and Juliet. I know most of you realize that Shakespeare deliberately made Romeo's early feelings for Juliet questionable, in that it seems he was purely attracted by her beauty at the Capulet Ball (driving out any thought of Rosalyn, whom he believed he loved for the same reason). However, there are a few choice bits of Act 1 Scene 1 which really show Romeo to be truly shallow. Most of these show up in the conversation where Benvolio has a talk with Romeo in order to find out why the latter has shut himself away in misery. It is revealed that Romeo is pining for Rosalyn, the most beautiful woman he has seen. Romeo has this to say about his attempts at courting her:

Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit
With Cupid's arrow. She hath Dian's wit.
And, in strong proof of chastity well armed
From love's weak childish bow, she lives uncharmed.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor bide th' encounter of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.

Am I alone in thinking that Romeo is whining because he can't even PAY to get into Rosalyn's pants? 

When Romeo first sees Juliet at the Capulet's Ball, he becomes immediately enamored, forgetting completely about Rosalyn. His first comments about Juliet are entirely about her beauty and how it outshines any he has ever witnessed.

When they first begin to speak, things get a little interesting. Their dialogue takes the form of a sonnet. Many would argue that, as the sonnet was the ultimate romantic thing to do, that this signifies the beginning of "true love" between Romeo and Juliet, as an Elizabethan audience would recognize it as such. However, I would argue that Shakespeare used it for the opposite effect. Afterall, everyone in his audience would have known that it was the thing for a gentleman to write to show deepest admiration. In otherwords, it was a fancy pickup line. This idea is further heightened by the skill with which Romeo lays it on to win a kiss from Juliet. Ultimately, she comments "You kiss by the book," indicating that, not only is Romeo skillful with his lines, but he's a pro at kissing. In otherwords, Romeo is a Shakespearan "playah". (Sorry, I couldn't resist that pun...)

It becomes very clear that Romeo feels very strongly for Juliet as the end of the play approaches. However, is it love? If it is, what is he really in love with? Many mentions are made of Juliet's beauty, but what else? Yes, Romeo proves that he is devoted, but is he still as shallow as he was at the beginning of the play? I wager he is.

Anybody else have an opinion on this?

 PS: The title for this post appeared in my TA's notes. *chuckle*

the_vulture: (Default)
This weekend has been pleasant, if a tad on the lazy side. The biggest, brightest point has to be arriving home on Friday to find, waiting for me, a cheque for over £860, courtesy of overpaid taxes. Now, granted, I knew said cheque was on its way, but, for me, it just isn't real until it's in the bank. 'Course, courtesy of a train that wasn't there, I missed actually getting to the bank to deposit it, but it can wait till Monday, I suppose. It's not like I'm desperately strapped for cash at the moment, by any stretch of the imagination. 

Contemplating what to do with £860 I didn't know I was to have two weeks ago or so has been a pleasant exercise. Visions of a new laptop danced by my head, as did possibly squeezing in a trip to Ireland, taking a couple college courses when I get back to Canada (ooo...! glassblowing...!)or maybe even, as the need for my next paycheque is no longer so great, just saying to hell with the school and bailing at the end of next week.

Of course, knowing that my future is a wee on the uncertain side of life, I've opted to save (most of) it as emergency funds. Having that as a backup is actually quite reassuring.

The most pleasant thought I've had today, though, is that, should Fate continue to smile warmly on me for a while and I do not have to dip into those funds for any major disaster, I actually have more than enough to cover the airfare to a certain special someone. It would seem that, when a number of folk said that she and I were meant to be together and things would work out for us, they may not have realized the extent to which Providence would act to ensure their veracity. *beaming smile*

I did however, splurge just a little (if you could call it splurging); I ordered a new MP3 player, along with a new pair of quality headphones. My current player, quite frankly, is crap and direly in need of replacing before I lob it through something breakable. (Note: The 'Onn' brand (from ASDA) of household appliances and electronics is good for a lot of basic things: MP3 players are NOT one of them.)

Soon enough, however, I'll have one of these: 

It's small, it's cute, and, according to most reviews, it blows the iPod Shuffle out of the water for performance, functionality and price.


Of course, the weekend hasn't been entirely 'all that and a box of chocolates'; I've discovered, much to my consternation, that shipping my stuff back to Canada is not going to be made more expensive because of the weight of it all; it's going to be because of the damn volume. The cheapest shipping company gives their prices in boxes up to certain set weights. The best option for me, at the moment, is to try and load my boxes as close to 25 Kg in weight as I can. However, I'm discovering that my stuff just isn't dense enough to reach any where near thta weight with the boxes I have. Furthermore, there is also 'volumetric weight' I have to contend with, so I can't just switch to bigger boxes. I can't make this as cost effective as I want to, dang it! *rueful grin*

Good thing I have extra cash to throw at the problem.

the_vulture: (Default)
Okay, so I should be happily munching chockies and celebrating the return of Spring as the Sun re-enters the world from the womb of the Earth. 

I should be, but I'm strangely melancholic. This is odd, as I tend to try and mark this particular holiday in a special way, but, this year, I feel too apathetic and down to try.

Now, I've little real reason to feel this way. Afterall, I've just begun five days (four day weekend plus one day inset) away from the little wretches who've been really getting me down. This has also reduced the length of my final weeks with them. Furthermore, when it comes to the theme of rebirth, I think my life will greatly reflect that when, in just about a month's time, I finally emerge from the 'winter' that has been my time teaching in the UK (or at least trying to), to return to my homeland for a spring spent recuperating and rejoicing in vast natural splendor.

Ya know, just typing that out made me feel a whole lot better!  Okay, whinge mode = off. I think a number of reasons why I was feeling down include the fact that I've little planned in the way to celebrate the Spring Equinox  (I really should be out burying an egg somewhere), I can't really do any running yet (as my back is still bothering me some), missing a phone call from my dear one, and, likely the most influential of the four, I was probably just emotionally decompressing from the terrors of the last few weeks.

I think I'm gonna get bundled up and wander out anyhow, Easter hours, bad back, and nasty wind be damned. Gonna see if I can find me some Easter chockies.  Maybe I might even climb a hill somewhere and spend a little time gazing at the green returning to the land.

Blessed Ostara to all!

This is sufficiently Easter-eggy, innit?

the_vulture: (Default)
 EDIT: Yeehaw! Hotel room booked! I picked up a nice little bed and breakfast in Dover for less than £40. All told, lodging and travel should cost me less than £70! It'll give me two days to kick around both Dover and Calais. Yes, I'll be sure to take many, many pictures.   

I do so enjoy Sundays like this, when there's no pressure of tomorrow to worry about. I can sleep in, stay up late, be as lazy or as active as like, and just enjoy the day.  

And I have! 

Today, my lovely other read to me from her favourite novel wherein the author spoke of her childhood passion of gathering stones. These stones, as the author claims, only tell part of a story; they serve as a mnemonic.  

Whilst this was being read to me, I could not help but smile at the little stones which adorn my altar. How true were her words! 

Other events of the day include receiving my grocery order. This, in itself, isn't exactly a thing of great importance, really, but, to me, stocking the larders full has a reassuring effect upon me. Perhaps this is an echo of times when my larder has been much, much more bare and macaroni and cheese was a luxury to break the tedium of ramen noodle soup. 

As mentioned in an earlier post, one joyous highlight was discovering a means of getting my feet upon Europe with little hassle and expense. In some ways, I look more forward to the upcoming short visit to France than I do about April's possible week long visit to Germany. It has a lot to do with knowing the language of the place I am visiting and the independence that grants. It means I can wander as I wish, something I fear I might not be able to do so readily in Germany. Hmmm... I must make sure to walk the beaches of Dover, in England, and Calais, in France; perhaps I may be able to find a few new stones to add to my stockpile of memories. 

Today also saw a decent, and thankfully uneventful, run of about 2.5 miles. Perhaps I should have done a longer distance, but I was feeling mildly under the weathe and didn't want to push it. Besides, methinks I might be better off doing more shorter runs during the week; doing six miles on the Sunday seems to take it out of me for the rest of the week. *chuckle* Yeah, I really need to work to get back to where I was. 

And now, methinks, 'twould be a good time to say "good night."

the_vulture: (Default)
'cause having my last post on this day being about throwing oneself in front of a train is actually kinda morbid, if one thinks about it. *quirky grin*  

Then again, I suppose it's not wholly out of the realm of romance; look at Romeo and Juliet, as well as Ophelia from Hamlet, just to name a few instances of love and lethality. And who could forget this quaint little ditty?: 


Blue Oyster Cult A&feature=related 

All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain..we can be like they are
Come on baby...don't fear the reaper
Baby take my hand...don't fear the reaper
We'll be able to fly...don't fear the reaper
Baby I'm your man...

Valentine is done
Here but now they're gone
Romeo and Juliet
Are together in eternity...Romeo and Juliet
40,000 men and women everyday...Like Romeo and Juliet
40,000 men and women everyday...Redefine happiness
Another 40,000 coming everyday...We can be like they are
Come on baby...don't fear the reaper
Baby take my hand...don't fear the reaper
We'll be able to fly...don't fear the reaper
Baby I'm your man...

Love of two is one
Here but now they're gone
Came the last night of sadness
And it was clear she couldn't go on
Then the door was open and the wind appeared
The candles blew then disappeared
The curtains flew then he appeared...saying don't be afraid
Come on baby...and she had no fear
And she ran to him...then they started to fly
They looked backward and said goodby...she had become like they are
She had taken his hand...she had become like they are
Come on baby...don't fear the reaper

Okay, so I haven't shifted the morbidity factor of today's postings one iota, have I? *chuckle* I'm HAPPY, really!!! 

the_vulture: (Man/Vulture)
Well, I think it's about time to officially take myself off the market. Part of it is because, well frankly, I'm in a serious state of transition, as in I'll be moving to another freakin' continent in the next few months. That pretty much cuts out forming relationships with anyone from the UK. And as I don't know exactly which part of Canada I'll eventually wind up settling in for any length of time (New Brunswick? BC?), there's no point for me to really check out the Canadian scene, either (as if there were many Canadian gals on this site, anyhow).  

The big part, though, has something to do with mailing off a Valentine's Day card and pressie. Yep, I'm taken, in multiple senses of the word. I've been attracted to a certain person for quite some time, but it was only as I wrote out her card that it really hit home that things are going beyond mere attraction and friendship. 

She's really wonderful and, thus far, we seem to be a good match. We've been chatting and talking on the phone for some time and we can carry on some great conversations (very important for me). She also does wonderful things like read a passage from her favourite book to me (how cool is that!). And she's even pleasing to the eye! 

Unfortunately, nothing ever seems to comes easy to me and I find myself breaking a promise I made and risking some serious heartache (for both of us) in doing so. But then, maybe what we share now may be worth it. Time will tell. 

In the meantime, I have someone to share Valentine's Day with! *smile*

the_vulture: (Default)
For the last several weeks, I have been a slave to Betty, Ugly Betty. Yes, I am now catching up to everyone else on that television show and, I must say, there is some outstanding writing for that show.  

The most powerful piece, thus far, has to be the opener for season 2, which I just saw today. 

Last season closed with fiance of Betty's sister, Hilda, getting shot during a convenience store robbery. The last scene from the season finale seemed to indicatet that Santos, the fiance, was dead. 

However, this episode featured him alive and somewhat well, recovering from the bullet wound and being benignly imprisoned by his wife-to-be, who has been intent on doting on him and ensuring his full recovery during the last three weeks. Though he is humouring Hilda, it's pretty clear he would actually like to leave the house, but Hilda seems quite opposed to that, fearing possibly losing him again.  

The scenes of the two, in her sunny bedroom, are filled with romantic and tender moments, with him convincing her to model the wedding dress and she getting him to read the vows he prepared. 

After he read the vows (quite moving in their own right) he states that he has to leave. She wants him to wait one more day, but he insists, explaining that they have to get on. They embrace passionately, just as Betty knocks on the door and asks if she might be able to get some help cooking dinner. The camera cuts to the door as it opens, with Betty standing there.  

The camera cuts back. 

The room is dark. 

Hilda is alone. 

She weeps as she clutches a pillow in place of Santos. 

"He's gone!" she cries, and Betty races to her to comfort her. "That's the first time I've been able to say that," she tearfully explains. 

The sheer poetry of that scene, and the setup for it, really gripped me. I haven't seen that kind of power in script writing for quite some time.

the_vulture: (Default)
Yoinked from [ profile] dancingwriter...

Your Famous Movie Kiss is from Spiderman

"I have always been standing in your doorway. Isn't it about time somebody saved your life?"

The Cliff

May. 13th, 2007 08:00 am
the_vulture: (Default)
(I'm trying to remember exactly where I read this analogy, but I think it is an apt one.)  

Imagine that you are a cliff diver, standing near the edge of a very tall cliff overlooking the ocean as the sun beats down upon you. Below you, the water looks cool and inviting. You look forward to the dive, with its exhilirating rush of air along your skin to stir your senses as the water rushes up to greet you. You look forward to the plunge, deep into its refreshing embrace. But something holds you back, a fear. What if there are rocks hidden beneath surface? What if your body is broken, rather than embraced? 

If our hearts are divers and love the ocean below, is it easy to see how so many are afraid to fall into love?


Feb. 16th, 2007 12:04 pm
the_vulture: (Default)
Thanks to D., I've managed to weather Valentine's Day without [ profile] imapunkin reasonably well. There's still a heart shaped ache (and, at night, I still cuddle the stuffed toy I was going to give her), but I think I'm done shedding tears over the breakup.

As for silver linings, being once again unattached has re-opened a lot of options for what to do in the future. I'm contracted until the end of August. Once finished, I'll have three years of international teaching experience; that can get me quite far in that particular sub-field of endeavour. Obtaining my QTS (still working on that) will not only allow me to remain in the UK, but also give me the opportunity to apply for work in New Zealand. There's also plenty of very well paying jobs to be found in places like Saudi Arabia. A visit to a hiring fair could find me work somewhere else in Europe, like say, Geneva. Or, I could finally choose to be really adventurous and take up work in Japan, China, or elsewhere in Asia.

The biggest temptation, though, is to return home. I'd have a much tougher time to find steady work, but being home, or close to it, would be very good for me, emotionally. I wonder just how quickly I could scale Mt. Doug now.

Who knows what the future holds for me? I've got at least six months to think about it, more if the school I'm currently working at decides to keep me on for another year or so..

I'm back in my new flat, after a few day's visit to Aylesbury, and, though nigh on utterly broke, I'm doing fine. An initial visit at the local doctor's office has revealed evidence of what a lot of people have been telling me; I've lost a lot of weight. I'm currently down to a little over 110 kg (242 lbs). This is the lowest body weight I've had in a very, VERY long time. This may explain why I am in great need of a new belt to keep the new size 40 jeans up. Now that I've found nice, long, (and most importantly) unpaved paths(usually around and through farm fields), I've begun running more frequently again. The brisk 10 minute walks to and from the train station also are helping to keep me in shape. I've even been making use of a chin-up bar left installed in my bathroom doorway to improve my arm strength. I'm still a long way off from actually doing a proper chin-up, but I'm progressing nicely.


Feb. 12th, 2007 06:16 pm
the_vulture: (tvhead)
[ profile] imapunkin broke up with me two days ago. I don't yet fully understand the reasons why.

What a fuck of a way to begin the midterm break.
the_vulture: (Default)
I wish mine were a little happier, but, twixt leaving [ profile] imapunkin to return home after two wonderful weeks of vacation together, and having to plunge into a lot of potentially stressy stuff, such as a new term of classes, finding (and moving into) a new place, and sorting out my QTS qualification, I'm feeling more than a wee bit down.

Still, I must find solace in what good things have come out of last year, such as my wonderful relationship with [ profile] imapunkin, a great Christmas holiday spent with her and her children, finding a good school in which to seek QTS, and finding the resolve to improve my health as much as I have (Btw, no weight gain this Christmas!). And there's much more to look forward to, once the required work is put in.


Dec. 18th, 2006 11:50 am
the_vulture: (Man/Vulture)
'Tis the (very lazy) morning after [ profile] imapunkin and I celebrated a year of being in love. Last night's activities consisted mostly of cuddling, an amazing Indian dinner at the restaurant we had our first date at a year previous, a viewing of the film "Zathura" (mildly entertaining, though with little significant plot difference to "Jumanji"), and plenty more cuddling. The weekend also saw plenty of shopping for stocking stuffers with which to spoil the kids (and [ profile] imapunkin), as well as the wrapping of said items by she and I. All in all, a lovely weekend to start the holiday with.

Now I have to go; she's calling me to wash her back. (chuckle)


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