Another Meeting
16 July

Meetings, meetings, meetings... the week has been full of them.

I forgot to mention an odd scene at Tesco's over the weekend. I was delighted to discover that they'd extended the range of organic stock that they hold. Although it was tucked away in the far corner of the store. Nearby an elderly couple were remonstrating with the world. She was concerned about the price of the products but he had no doubt about the reason. It was because of the magic word organic which, according to him, was all a nonsense because the chemical were already in the ground so it made no difference anyway. Hey ho. *Raspberry*

On Monday night, Davina was less than perfect at the yoga class. Somehow, the pupils had remembered more of Sunday's session than she had. Still, it's good to know that the gods have feet of clay. I'm glad she's less than perfect because it does not diminish the excellence of her classes week by week.

I finally made it to the vet's to pick up Cyril's ashes. I was unprepared for the fact that the container rattles. I am wondering if perhaps he would make an excellent pair of maracas. *Smiles*

Back in mid April, I mentioned that a work colleague, Simon, quite possibly knew one of my old College chums, Henryk, with whom I had lost contact. Well, Tuesday night saw our reunion with plenty of catching up on personal histories which go back to when we were 17/16 respectively and on a youth drama course.

We both had longer and more hair in those days. And he, certainly, was a lot skinnier. And no, he's not fat nowadays. More middle-aged chunk. I used to fancy him rotten before I came out. I liked the man I met but didn't fancy him. Maybe this is part of letting go of the lost youth I mentioned recently.

It is well over 20 years since I last saw Henryk. At the back end of March this year, I met up with Denise who I knew in College. The previous June, I met with Ronnie who was also a college chum. The defining moment in all of those interrupted friendships is my breakdown and leaving London and coming out. Until I started this process of re-integrating my life, I had not had face to face with any of my friends from before that time.

When I got home, there was an answerphone message from Keith. It look as though we'll be interring Cyril's ashes on Sunday. Hmmm. Wherever am I going to get all that black bombazine? *Smiles*

Ross came to stay on Wednesday night. This was a treat and a half since we normally don't see each other midweek. Actually, it was based on a misunderstanding since I got confused about this coming weekend and thought I wouldn't see him and so we arranged to meet up and then discovered we'd have the weekend to ourselves after all but thought we'd meet up anyway. Got it?!

Anyhow, the sex was fabulous, darlings.

Which set us both up for a tough Thursday - Ross for another meeting with yet another consultant and me for another intensive round of meetings at work - it's been a week of induction demos and meetings leading towards a big meeting on Friday which will tell me whether or not I'm going to get any resources towards meeting any of the challenges of the next six months. It ended up with me working til 7pm preparing papers and e-mailing colleagues to get things sorted.

I was exhausted on by the time I got home. It was my first evening to myself all week. Phoned Ross to see how the meeting with the consultant went but got no answer. I lounged with a pre-prepared meal, a bottle of beer, Classic-FM, a bath and bed by 10pm - straight to sleep.

Came downstairs on Friday morning to an answerphone message from Ross's friend, Chris, to say that Ross had been admitted to the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel having overdosed. Not critical. But I need to know more.