So for the first time in what seems like forever, we had a quiet weekend last weekend.

To translate it into PureGeektm terms, we needed to visit the Power Battery and recharge our Power Rings.

Friday we saw the area in which we live - Canary Wharf - get napalmed at the end of 28 Weeks Later.

Now that was really cool.

I liked the movie and the added bonus of seeing Canary Wharf get torched was just the best.

Saturday we had a wander around the west end and then did a little food shopping before vegging out on the sofa..

Sunday we saw the Pet Shop Boys in concert and I have to say they were pretty darn good.

Tha Hammersmith Apollo is a good venue -a lot bigger than I thought- and they really made the place bop...

Monday we cleaned the flat and saw Zodiac - another great movie and me miss San Francisco a little.

We saw nobody over the weekend and that was just fine with us, I guess you just need that down time to reconnect.

We have this beautiful glass piece in the home.

It's a blue globe, on heavy plinth with a silver head floating inside.

Heh.

I know how that sounds.

But take my word, it is simply beautiful.

G bought it recently in memory of an Aunt who had died - we had seen it months ago in Manchester and took a day trip to the north to purchase it.

That was a good day.

We met up with a friend and colleague of mine by the name of Tobi.

Tobi is a young gay guy, of about 22 years of age.

So young and he has pretty much sorted his life.

He has been living away from home since he was 17 or so, he has been working full time for as long.

I employed him in the Manchester hotel in 2004, although he left a year later.

A year or so after that, he came back and I was more than happy to re-employ him.

He is a well spoken caring young man, and somebody for whom I seem to have infinite patience.

Yes he falls in love on a regular basis and end's up with a bruised heart, but hey, who doesn't at that age?

So G and I met him for lunch and invited him down to London - an offer he is taking us up on.

I want him to see the good side of London, I want him feel at home here and hopefully see G as the loving couple we are.

I want him to know that you don't have to be a bitchy superficial queen, that there are other kinds of gay men out there.

That there are better role models out there.

The blue piece of glass art purchased by G on that wet Bank holiday Monday back at he beginning of May, sits on the window sill under the large windows.

And it looks great.

I look at it whenever I sit here at the table and surf the net, I cast my eye over to it and study the way the light is being reflected off the blue glass.

I look at the suspended silver head and try to decipher it's expression.

If it was alive, I wonder, how would the world appear to it?

What would it make of the home in which it has been placed?

Would it be accepting as an observer of life or would it scream, howling to be released from it's blue, cold prison...

It is a thing of beauty.

In the end I couldn't do it.

I had had this elaborate wind up planned for G's Birthday but in the end I couldn't do it.

He had had a very stress full week and I didn't want to be the one that pushed him over the edge.

With the help of a friend we had created a voucher for a weekend away....on a Doctor Who tour of Wales.

A whirlwind tour of the locations such as the old house used for ''The Lady in the fireplace'' and the big country house that was Torchwood House in 'Tooth and Claw''....there was even a chance to win a genuine Tom Baker scarf if you answered all the questions in the Dr Who quiz...

I have to say the vouchers looked amazing and I shall keep them anyway.

But when it came to the crunch I just couldn't do it.

So as we lay in bed on the morning of his Birthday, I told him the truth about our trip to Paris in a couple of weeks.

And he was delighted with that.

So we hugged.

It was 2.35 in the morning and party was now winding down.

It had started quite civilly with the two families exchanging pleasantries over pork pie and egg mayo sandwiches neatly cut into triangles and arranged on a silver foil platter.

A virgin 3 litre bottle of Vodka was steadily corrupted and finally consumed along with an assortment of ales, lager and cider.

The parents occupied the lounge while two mini parties took place, one in the kitchen and one in the garden.

G and I flitted between both.

So after a competition of who could drink a yard of ale the fastest the party was winding down.

G were leaving and saying our goodbyes and for the first time in years my brother Jason and I, we hugged.

He doesn't begin his round the world trip until Friday but we won't see him until he returns in December.

And he hugged G as well which was nice.

I will miss him and I think G will too.

It was a great play, well staged.

We sat three rows back from the stage, the seats were very good,we were right n the thick of the action.

It was the story of a psychiatrist who is given the case of 17 year old Alan Strang, who is in the psyche unit because one night he 'blinded' six horses.

The play was Equus.

I dimly remembered the movie made back in the 70's with Richard Burton, I remember my embarrassment of when Peter Firth rode the horse naked.

I watched it with the rest of the family.

At the time I didn't 'get' the movie, but I 'got' the play.

Richard Griffith's was superb as the psychiatrist, his envy at Strang's passion for horses -a passion he has never known himself - and his almost regret that he will 'cure' Strang but destroy his spirit.

Daniel Radcliffe was also good, portrsaying the young troubled lad very well but the true revelation of the night was the portrayal of the horses.

6 actors in tight brown velvet, on high metal hooves and wearing a horse like head piece fashioned out of silver and chrome.

They gave you the illusion that there were horses on the stage, their portrayed the raw nature and nobility almost effortlessly.

It was a good play.

And now I want to revisit the movie.

I had just finished a mini rant about my father to my mother.

We were alone in the kitchen, everybody else was in the front room.

G and I had travelled up for the 70th Birthday party of my Uncle Pat.

I liked Pat, in fact I quite liked all the Uncles on my mothers side.

They had that down to earth quality of being able to see through all the bullshit, all pretence and just get on with it.

The only Uncle that was missing was Brian.

He was a good man, My Uncle Brian.

I even idolised him a little when I was growing up.

He had died two years previously, which was the last time that the whole family had been together.

My mother never talks about her childhood, only when she is together with her brothers.

And from what info I can gleam, it was not a happy one.

The Father, my grandfather, I get the impression was a bit of a bastard.

A drunk who was liked to hit his kids.

By the name of Patrick.

Anyway, I had finished my little rant.

My mother, looked at me while taking a drag on her cigarette.

''Well you have got 'G' now, and me and Jason. Don't worry about
it''.

And she is right.

Ok so we have seen Barry.

We have seen Petula or PEh-Tula if your American.

We saw Dolly.

We saw the World Premier of 'Legally Blonde:The Musical' for frak's sake.

And now we have tickets for Barbera Streisand for the O2 arena in July.

Do we get PLATINUM pink cards now?

Play a strong hand, always.

If there is one thing I learnt from my old boss, it was to always play a strong hand.

And I have learnt it well.

''Take the emotion out of it'', he would say.

Don't be abusive,don't react, just fold your arm's and firmly say 'No'.

And for the most part I subscribe to this.

I think it works.

But after the drama has ended, you are kinda left alone.

And you can't help thinking to yourself -

I'm not the totally unfeeling prick people take me for.

Maybe the feelings run deeper than most and the best thing is to bury them a little.