My weekend was spent on the following things: my 377A paper; Matt, friends and alcohol; tennis; and smoking a spliff with a guy from my tennis club after tennis. I will write about these in turn.
The plan was to finish it on Saturday and go to London on Sunday to meet up with Theo, my ex-housemate, and one of the better people that I met in Cambridge.
The plan failed. I spent a lot of time merging two sections and tried to work on it after dinner but I was tired, it was cold in the college library, and I just couldn't be bothered after a while. So I worked on it on Sunday: two hours in the faculty, an hour and half at Fitzbillies. I picked up from where I left off when I went to the faculty, finished going through the draft to the end, and got myself a change of scenery for the second read through at Fitzbillies.
I died at page 12 of 34.
I really wanted to change the writing style. That was my biggest beef with it (no surprises, right?): the pedestrian and drab nature of the writing style. I wrote it in December last year, before I acquired, seemingly from nowhere, a much better academic style. But to rewrite this paper is just too much effort, and so I really just need to let go. Just let go. It's not perfect and it will never be; just send it out to the supervisors, then send it to the target journal. Just let go.
And so I finally let go of it today - an hour ago, actually - which means that I spent an extra day on this stupid paper when I ought to have moved on to my PhD. Ugh. This crap had better get published or I would be really annoyed.
(It's not crap, of course. It's important. It's about gay men's right to equality in Singapore and the preposterous notion that retaining a law that criminalises male homosexuality serves Singapore's common good. But I am sick of it, so it is currently of no importance whatsoever.)
Matt, Friends and Alcohol
He was quite sweet on Saturday, texting me at 2pm when he was off work to ask if I was feeling better, given the intense Friday that I had. He was bartending at La Raza later that night: 8pm to 3am. He also had plans to watch a boxing match at 5am somewhere in town. When I went to get coffee in the afternoon, he said that he probably wouldn't get home until 6am. Then he'd sleep for 3 or 4 hours before starting an 11am shift at Fitzbillies.
It only occurred to me to offer him the option of crashing at mine when I was back in the library. And so when I saw his text message, I took the chance to extend the offer. He said that it would be nice but he doesn't want me waiting up until 6am for him, so he'd text when he was headed home and he'd come round if I was still awake. Besides, he added, it would be nice to cuddle up to me when he finished work.
At 11.30pm, I went to La Raza with Ivan as my plus one; Ivan, who had just returned from London, brought his own plus one. Earlier in the day, when I told Matt the name of the friend that I was going with so that he could put us on the guestlist, he casually commented, when I went in for my second caffeine fix, that it sounded like a Scandinavian name. It occurred to me later that he was perhaps trying to suss out who was this guy that I was bringing to La Raza. I thought it was also quite cute when I had coffee with Stefan (another Law PhD who's just submitted) once and Matt asked me, days later, who he was. I have been wanting to ask if he gets jealous because all but one of my friends in Cambridge are men, so...he'd just have to get used to it if he's the jealous type.
Anyway. 11.30pm at La Raza. The DJ was on, the music was loud, it was not conducive for a proper conversation, so we ended up shouting at each other. It was a good night anyway. Ivan is always great company and I liked talking to his date, too.
The first thing that I noticed when I saw Matt at the bar was his black shirt, how it matched perfectly his dark hair, how it accentuated his broad chest and sturdy biceps (I have a thing for muscular arms). He was looking really fucking sexy. He made me a pornstar martini when I gave him free reign to make me a drink; I didn't know what it was until I had a second one, and Ivan's date picked the pornstar martini, and got the same drink that I got the first time.
I could tell that he was a little bit stressed out. He definitely wasn't as chatty and smiley as he usually is at his day job. But it looked like a rather unrewarding job: a constant stream of people asking for drinks, card machines that didn't work, weird requests from people...but really, the constant stream of orders looked so exhausting from my vantage point. I could certainly see why he quit this line of work.
We got tired at 1am. Before we left, I went over to the bar and found Matt in the kitchen area to tell him that I was leaving. When he saw me, he immediately pulled me to him and kissed me, almost as if he'd needed it in that moment. While walking back to college, on the strength of two pornstar martinis, I thought about his black shirt and how sexy he was looking; and the two drinks that I had caused me to take out my phone to text, 'You're looking really. Fucking. Sexy.' And then, just before I slept, 'Call (not text, for a prolonged ringing has a higher chance of waking me up) me later. I want you in my bed.'
He came around at about 6.30am. He liked that I thought that he was looking really sexy. I confessed that those two messages were sent from a place of tipsyness; I was so embarrassed by them as it's not my style to send messages like that. I suppose he didn't mind receiving them though. Who would, right? He figured that I was tipsy and said that it was cute.
So we didn't get that much sleep, but it was a good early morning. We eventually went to bed, facing each other, and just as I was falling asleep, I felt his fingers grazing my face and then his lips on mine. Through the three hours or so of the morning that we spent sleeping, I woke up every now and then, saw his sleeping face, felt a sense of affection, and gently touched his face. He felt my touch and kissed me on my forehead.
I got out of bed at 11am. It was really late for me. I had lunch at Fitzbillies with Ivan and his date; was craving a cheese toastie but I was so hungry that I got a tart and salad in the end because I didn't want to wait for my food to be prepared. At the counter, Matt's boss asked me how I was. 'Tired,' I said. The way she repeated the word back to me suddenly made me feel self-conscious, for it occurred to me that Matt might have moaned about how shattered he was feeling and two and two together...well, you know.
I fell asleep a couple of times when I was at the faculty. I wish I'd gone to London but I think it was necessary that I hadn't.
Tennis and Weed
I received a message from James at 6pm, asking if I wanted to play tennis that very evening. I was hesitant at first because I was really tired, but eventually thought, Why not?
So we played. It was a good session. He does drills with me, like I'd hit down the line and he'd hit cross court and we'd switch, things like that. I was so winded after a while; it didn't help that I didn't get much sleep the night before.
This part of my day deserves a more in-depth entry but I am really tired at the moment, and I am wanting to watch some US Open matches (Sharapova and Halep first round! Hope Sharapova wins), so I'll save it for another entry. I will say this though: I am such a terrible smoker. I tried smoking that shit and all I succeeded in doing was to let everything drift out of my nose. Definitely didn't get high. How disappointing.