Tuesday 26th October 2010 - @DannyBlahBlah

I’ve seen you before Tuesday. I think you were a Sunday. Or maybe you were dressed in Monday’s clothing. But it was definitely you Tuesday.

I knew it was you, because I woke up very aware that it was one of those mixed mornings. You know, when it’s cold but blindingly bright, crisp yet with frosty kisses on my fingers tips. It was for this reason I fancied the walk into town.

I knew it was you, Tuesday, because I was off to meet him again, and have the same bittersweet conversation that the icy weather was having on my naked hands. Each pinch of the cold left a warm after taste upon my skin, it made me feel alive and strangely grateful to see him one last time.

As we sipped our coffee, the water a bit too hot still, the burning sensation helped me swallow the realisation that this would probably be it. It opened my eyes as the caffeine rushed though my veins and woke me up. It made me face up to and burn this morning into my memory.

We hadn’t seen each other for a few months. It had been a bit too awkward. The summer had been ours to enjoy separately as a warm up to the knowledge that we were now due to be on different pages of our passport.

As expected the toasty butterflies migrated back to my tummy and the spark in his eyes fuelled my smile. The air was filled with embers of remembrance.

When we parted, we said goodbye, again, and made all the promises to keep in touch. It was nice to be able to close his chapter mutually and honestly. I’ll probably never get the chance to speak to him again. He was off to warmer climates.

On the walk home, I took off my leather jacket. The clear blue sky shone brighter now and the winds had changed. Your chill, Tuesday, had parted allowing me to use everything you’d taught me this morning to realise, in fact, how lucky I am.

He’d been the first one, since the first one, who ignited something within me. Knowing that the fire can be relit is a great comfort.

I learnt so much from his warmth, as he thawed my heart. I now know I won’t be out alone in the cold as I once feared. He allowed me to look forward to next Tuesday and the Tuesday after and all the Tuesdays after that. He always looked further out onto the horizon than me, and his leaving has now helped me see all the way into the sun set.

And you know what Tuesday, it’s beautiful.

***************************************************

Dan Lambden

@DannyBlahBlah

www.dannyblahblah.wordpress.com

Tuesday 26th October 2010 - @areyoumypartner

WFH? WFW? … WTF?

It’s Tuesday, and the office is really quiet because Tuesday is WFH day (Work From Home). Everyone has branded their statuses on MSN messenger, Facebook, Twitter and Skype with WFH. It’s official!

But some of us have to actually WFW (Work From Work) on a Tuesday.

To be sure, WFH is a privilege, not a right. It isn’t quite OOO (Out Of Office), even thought that would be technically the correct acronym. In light of WFH, maybe OOO should be more like MIA.

But what if one day someone who was WFW forget to update their social statuses and actually thought they were actually WFH? Would they walk around the office in their undies? Take furniture deliveries? Hang their laundry out? Drink milk out of the carton?

Now that would be a real WTF moment. Our lives are so wired nowadays, it could happen.

Oh look, a tumble weed just blew by. It’s Tuesday, and today I’m WFW.

***************************************************

Allan Wills

@areyoumypartner

Tuesday 26th October 2010 - @bainser

I am determined you’ll have a happy visit Tuesday. You seem to have been a bit down of late. In fact so rubbish that I fear you’re trying to steal Mondays mantle. At best you’ve been ridiculously bland. I mean you aren’t Monday which is a good thing. But then you aren’t close enough to Saturday or even Friday evening to get my juices going either.

Today though you’ll be different wont you? I am determined. But to do this Tuesday it would be so much easier if you didn’t dump crap news at my door. It’s only lunchtime so I’ll come back to you later. You know when you’ve had a chance to pull your socks up a bit.

I’m not expecting you to make the sun come out, or a mysterious windfall arrive in my account. Though both would be gratefully received. Perhaps if you could get a fitty to smile and wink at me on the way home. Or how about a train that’s not over crowded on the way home? Another stunning sunset? I’ll even settle for a little humorous schadenfreude. You know some arrogant twat walking into a lamppost or the like. It’s the littlest things you do Tuesday. Just one or two tiny things to make me smile.

Despite the fact the conversation has focused on sad things, talking to my friends in Dublin this morning has been a boost. Hearing of a friends comedy misaddressed text message also made me smile. My husband has been delightfully cute and I look forward to seeing the gardening he’s done when I get home. (You know as well as I do Tuesday, the only way I could be green fingered is through possibly illegal acts with Kermit the Frog.) See you’re nearly there Tuesday. I am but a giggle or two away from a decidedly above average day.

So come on Tuesday, make me smile. You know you want to. You have it in you to be a bit of a comedian.

Cheers
Nick

PS - Another suggestion for you...make the fittie Office Cub in the  building opposite spill something down his front, forcing him to reveal an amazing bod and to sit there topless as his top dries out. I’m just throwing it out there for ya.

***************************************************

Nick Bain

@bainser

bainser.com

Tuesday 19th October 2010 - @SandyEastStar

Once again I’ve ended up at the folks’ place for cleaning and a catch-up…We know that in-between me trying not to drop the Royal Albert as I dust, mopping the kitchen floor, and trying to persuade Mum to discard receipts from 1997 that she’ll deliver opinions on my love life (“One man just isn’t enough for you, dear!” and “Why can’t you meet someone like Colin Firth?”), offer me food every twenty minutes, and, of course, want to know how I’m getting on with the health and job situation, and declare that “those people are bastards” at some point…

Today Mum’s wearing the apron I made for her birthday that she REFUSES to clean in as she doesn’t want “to get it messy”, and greets me with a hug and this: “Actually you’re quite pretty, aren’t you?” It’s a wonky compliment of sorts and typically her… “D’you think the jaundice is fading, darling? You mustn’t over-do it-“

“I’m fine,”

She looks at me doubtfully because we know I’ve slipped health-wise, and, after weeks of staying positive the delayed-return-to-work-because-of-box-ticking-exercises just might be niggling me…

“Honestly, woman!” I say, “I’m fine…”

And, Tuesday, I really am.

Despite looking like I’m giving Winehouse a run for her money with my urine-coloured flesh and punched-eye look, and STILL waiting for THE letter that’ll confirm I can work again, THINGS ARE OK. Cleaning at Mum’s has become one of the few constants in my life and it’s a constant I’ve grown to love…It hasn’t blossomed out of any aspiration to become a domestic goddess, I assure you but because of something else…

Today I realised that Mum and I are closer than ever. Threatening to get her sectioned each time she makes a random comment (“Become an au pair!”), her calling me an “evil bitch” whenever I tease her for mispronouncing EVERY famous actor’s name (except Colin’s obviously…), and both of us trying to out-do each other with the cruellest insults we can spit out, has made our lives brighter. Mum loves telling everyone about how recently she insisted an empty shoebox could NOT be thrown away and I responded with, “Why? Are we going to put your ashes in it and save a few quid?” We’re vicious, vile and relentless but our relationship has flourished. Most of our cleaning time is spent cackling and Mum reassuring me in her roundabout way that despite the fact that other things aren’t so great, she still believes in me.

So Tuesday, thank you.  And thank you for Mum’s line of the day: “That Ben Affleck seems nice…What about him?” It’s moments like these that make life so very special.

***************************************************

Sandy East

@SandyEastStar

Tuesday 19th October 2010 - @peacockpete

Tom Bosley died today, on this Tuesday.

I don't want to make this a maudlin post but Tom Bosley's face, and more so his voice, is part of my youth. As the ultimate American Dad, playing Mr Cunningham in Happy Days, he was one of those familiar components of my growing up.

We've not long lost Tony Curtis. Before I got to know a lot more of his many memorable performances, he was known for three things in my child's brain: Chat shows, reruns of “The Persuaders” and my mum praising his performance as “The Boston Strangler”.

One by one, my childhood is disappearing further into the ether. While Tony Curtis was trying to out-do Roger Moore picking up girls in “The Persuaders”, Robert Culp was solving crimes with Bill Cosby in “I, Spy”. Culp too, is now no longer with us. Writer of umpteen action/adventure series, Stephen J. Cannell, Ronnie James Dio of my teen Metal Years and Simon MacCorkindale are gone too; we lost Manimal in 2010, people! Roy Ward Baker, director of some of the most memorable horror movies in British history, as well as the best film about the Titanic, “A Night To Remember” is no longer with us.

There are many, many heroes and personalities that are part of our tapestry of memories. In small, but definite ways they influence us. It could be a half remembered quote, or the way they spoke that ignites a memory. It is a constant reminder that time is an unforgiving beast, taking away extraordinary people, but also giving us amazing new individuals too.

Like our family, like our friends, they're never truly forgotten. They're never truly gone.

***************************************************

Pete Shorney

@peacockpete

peacockpete.wordpress.com

Tuesday 19th October 2010 - @lucasowen85

You snuck up on me when I wasn’t expecting it and that’s totally unfair. I shouldn’t hate you as much as I do, especially because you’re look so fresh and bright today, but if I’d have known you were going to make me feel like this you could’ve at least done me the honour of setting some appropriate lighting.

You weren’t always a Tuesday, of course; you’re quite the chameleon like that. My regular phonecall from the past was normally unannounced, so perhaps I should’ve been suspicious when it sent me a text to make sure I was conscious to you. Bad news is always softened like that I guess. Still...

Do you remember, a couple of years ago, when you were a Thursday? You got the weather wrong that day, too. I was at the coast, watching the boy with the fire in his eyes and he was so proud. You were so bloody cold, and I was uncomfortably alone in a crowd of watching families. He knew somehow.

And today - you, Tuesday - he tells me I’ll never see him again. Canada, though? Wow.

He was the one I had convinced myself I’d grow old with, even though we haven’t spoken often and I’ve only seen him once in the last twelve months. I have no right to be upset; a few weeks ago I met someone so wonderful I should’ve filed my past away, and yet I haven’t. I don’t even know why not these days.

Mind you, nothing like a nice practical problem to distract me. £793 for repairs to my car? Nice. Yes, that’ll give me something to think about instead. And it’s only 2pm, so no doubt you’ve got some more surprises tucked away for me(!).

Look, I know it wouldn’t change anything; it still wouldn’t work out, and he still wouldn’t trust me. He won’t, and never will, and I’ll never get over that.

Even so.... I’d give anything for you to be that Thursday again.

Anyway… I guess I’ll see you round. Same time next week?

Lucas.
x

***************************************************

Lucas Owen

@lucasowen85 

http://lucasowen85.wordpress.com 

Tuesday 12th October 2010 - @spawnofthediva

To be fair to you Tuesday it wasn’t your fault. Yes it happened on your watch, but it could quite easily have happened twelve hours later and Wednesday would’ve borne the brunt.

You see it had been coming for a while, as inevitable as Eric Pickles at the nearest curry house, or the cast of Hollyoaks at the opening of anything. I can’t tell you exactly what you added to the mix, what straw you added that broke this particular camel’s back, but the meltdown that I decided to have the last time you made an appearance had been long due.

I can tell you why it happened; I won’t bore you with the grittier details, but, (and this is a word of advice to you Tuesday), bottling up every emotion you’ve ever had is not such a brilliant idea, and if you pour a little bit of grief into this mix you’re guaranteed a Michelin starred wobble.

It wasn’t a particularly long-lasting pity party, I’d started to pick myself back up again after a couple of days, but I should tell you this, seeing you today, after 336 hours, I’m feeling much better. With the support of some very good friends I’ve had a bit of an epiphany about what I need to do to really sort my head out, in fact, and I probably needed my moment of melodrama to realise that perhaps things aren’t really as bad as they seemed. I won’t pretend to you that I’m fixed, but perhaps I’m not as broken as I thought I was, and I greet you today in possibly the best of spirits for many months.

I’ve realised that nothing is insurmountable, it just might take a while. It’s also dawned on me, finally, that there is no such thing as a quick fix; this is perhaps the most valuable realisation as I’ve spent the last few years thinking that the answer is just around the corner, and being perpetually disappointed when it hasn’t been. I hope that knowing this means that I’ll no longer set myself up for a fall by expecting everything to be sorted in a day and a half, because Tuesday, as I’m sure you know, life just isn’t like that.

But I think the most important thing I’ve realised is that I’m not on my own. I’ve got more faith in my friendships now that I’ve had in a long time, and there are a few people who I‘m a little bit indebted to. I‘m slightly concerned as to how they might choose to call in this debt, (a massive hangover probably looms) but I‘ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

So thank you, Tuesday, for putting up with me last week, normal service will, I promise you, be resumed soon.

***************************************************

Andrew Gonsalves

@spawnofthediva

Tuesday 12th October 2010 - @bainser

Dear Tuesday,

It’s not your fault. Really it’s not, more often than not this day has nothing to do with you. In fact the first time this was important to me it wasn’t even down to you. It was your unloved brother Monday. But 8 years have trotted along and now its your turn.

It’s more of date thing than just you Tuesday, everyone remembers different one for different reasons. The unfortunate thing is I’m a bit rubbish at remembering dates. The husband regularly chastises me that even after seven years I still get his birthday wrong. (it’s definitely 20th November!) It really isn’t that I don’t care, I’m just far too caught up in the here and now.

This is great for living in the moment Tuesday but I’ll be honest not so good for planning things. My friends will vouch that I am rubbish at knowing whats happening at the weekend let alone in a month or two. It’s also exceptionally rubbish when you are blindsided by a simple message. A quick hi to just remember someone or something.

Tom Waller, was just such a person to be remembered this Tuesday. Facebook reminded me. A simple message about a great person. You see Tuesday, eight years ago Tom was playing rugby with the Hong Kong Sevens. He was in a bar in Bali dear Tuesday. He was having a great time, but it wasn’t to last. A rucksack, just like many others in the bar that night exploded with such force that he and ultimately 201 others lost their lives across three separate attacks.

Many words have been said on the attacks and the amazing person Tom was. I cant really add to them. I knew Tom fairly well, had been to a party or two at his house and would always say hi to him whenever I saw him round the yacht club. Many of my other friends were however much closer to him. What I can tell you dear Tuesday is the first time I saw his name on a wall. Outside the Churchill’s Cabinet War Rooms is a small understated memorial to all those that lost their lives that day. I’ll be honest Tuesday I wept. I don’t know if you were there Tuesday.

So this morning you, and my living in the now gave me a bittersweet kick. I remember Tom, his laugh and spirit. But also the sadness.Tuesday, I thank you for this. The good thing though about being so caught up in the present was Tuesday I could get on and enjoy the rest of you. A frenetic rush to Leicester, a productive meeting, the prospect of theatre review (which almost thankfully fell through as I was knackered by then) and a quiet night in front of the TV with my housemate before an early night. All thoroughly enjoyable and different in their own way.Though they probably won’t be with me on Tuesdays to come.

Like I said Tuesday, thank you for dropping by as you have a tendency to do. I’m sure you don’t enjoy being the bearer of sad tidings but it’ll be Wednesday’s turn next year. I’ll see you again next week, and hope we can have some funtimes.

Laters
Nick

***************************************************

Nick Bain

@bainser

bainser.com

Tuesday 12th October 2010 - @peacockpete

Tuesday,

You're determined to keep hold of this sunshine aren't you?

Can't blame you. It helps to maintain your popularity in some quarters. Your predecessor this week was hard work as it often is. I used to like "M", but lately it seems to have gained a moody disposition and a few extra pounds of disinterest. "M" seems to like its place after the weekend less and less.

So the day unfolds, and remarkably I've managed to get plenty of work done. Good stuff! And the evening yields yet more reward. Dinner and drinks with lovely friends, including the usual raucous humour and bad picture taking, which all make for a perfect evening.

Unfortunately, Tuesday, this is where your shortcomings are highlighted somewhat. You see, you're not Friday, are you? Or Saturday. Saturday's always been my favourite day. But, Tuesday, you lead into "W". Don't get me started on that day. I got the cab home, and sat in the dark watching Tuesday night telly. So I finished my half bottle of wine, and slowly nod off...

...but I couldn't.

"W"was hiding behind the door. Its fingers of midweek apathy creaking as it pushed its way through the gaps, the keyhole, the letterbox. The nights are longer now, and I can almost convince myself that the morning is a faraway land, its beaches undisturbed by the business of the next working day. I turn to you, Tuesday, and the great day you were. Don't leave me with this hump...

But it will arrive as it always does, chewy as overcooked steak. I don't like the midweek nothing, the equidistant point between the fun days. But I think you gathered that.

So, farewell Tuesday, I'll see you next... well, I'll see you again.

***************************************************

Pete Shorney

@peacockpete

peacockpete.wordpress.com

Tuesday 12th October 2010 - @originalsteve

"Remember that standing still is going backwards"

Today, for most people is just another Tuesday in the very ordinary month of October, but for me, this date marks quite a lot.

No, it’s not my birthday (that’s in February), it’s not an anniversary of any sort. It’s actually a date in time that marked an end to one chapter in my life and the start of two more chapters.

So, two years ago today, I was a very different person to the one who is writing this blog. I was a broken man. All that I believed in, and made me very happy, had come crashing down in front of my eyes. My mind could not think straight, my eyes could not stop crying and my heart was broken.

Two years ago on this date I had been dumped by my first love. Yeah, I know what some of you were thinking, but for me it had been a very difficult time. I had just spent the last year coming to terms with who I was, I was ready to start a new chapter in my life and things had been changing around me. I was living in a city alone, for the first time in my life. A place where I knew no one. The only thing keeping me secure at that moment was this guy, my first boyfriend and my first love. But on this day, everything had changed, I was looking through the world with very different and more real eyes. It was scary, big and very uncertain.

A year later, (so one year ago) another chapter commenced in my life. I started a new job! A new job, in a great company with some very awesome people. A job that I finally believed was for me. Marking for me some sort of security and happiness. The year had been spent moving away from the places that made me unhappy and moving back to the places I knew would make me happy.

So as I sit hear now, another year has passed and this chapter in my life has progressed. I can finally say that I am where I want to be. Very happy and content in a job that I enjoy, with some great friend and housemates to turn to, a great boyfriend and finally living in a city where I don’t feel alone.

Two years ago, if I had stood still in that place and time, I would never have developed into the person I am now. If I had known that this is where I would be now, I would have never believed it.

***************************************************

Steve Whiting

@originalsteve

Tuesday 28th September 2010 - @kerryjeanpower

I picked my wedding dress up today.

It’s the dress I’ll be wearing on the most important day in my life.

It’s the dress that people will be craning their necks to see as I walk through the doors of the chamber room and down the aisle.

It’s the dress that I am hoping will make my future husband cry.

I can’t show her to you. That would be bad luck. But I can tell you the following:

• She makes me look like a princess
• She was born in America
• She is almost twice as old as me
• She makes the most amazing sound when I swing from side to side
• She is delicate yet strong
• I will put her on as Miss Power, I will take her off as Mrs Lister.

I wonder what will happen to my dress after I am married. Will I dye her? Will I shorten her to wear again? Will I pass her on to another bride-to-be? Or will I simply hang her in the back of my wardrobe – the perfect reminder of a beautiful day?

Who knows. But on this Tuesday in September I know one thing – she is mine. And she is everything I hoped she would be.

***************************************************

Kerry Jean Power

@kerryjeanpower

kerryjeanpower.com

Tuesday 5th October 2010 - @guy_interrupted

Hey, Tuesday.

I know things have been rough between us lately. And although I know I should take part of the blame for my behaviour, you have to admit you’ve been really difficult recently.

You see, every time you’ve come to visit, I’ve woken up feeling sad and lifeless. Your mornings are getting darker and colder, but you’ve forced me to get up and go to work anyway. To be honest, whenever we’ve seen each other, I’ve merely been going through the motions.

I remember a few months ago when things were great between us. I used to practically skip to work with happy songs on my iPod. That time when I was feeling a bit ‘meh’ and you arranged for the man I loved to call me when I was on the train — just to cheer me up.

I had a lot of those moments during your visits back then, and they were some of the happiest I can remember in a long time. The texts, the emails, the calls just to hear my voice, the dinner dates where we just sat touching hands and smiling at each other. 

But then it all changed. I started spending your visits wondering whether having him part-time was enough, whether I could cope with him going home to someone else every night, and waking up the next morning to find myself alone in bed, with only you for company.

Until finally, I ended it. You weren’t there. It was when your cousin, Sunday was over for the day, and by the time you showed up, I was desolate.

Ever since then, our relationship has been pretty strained, hasn’t it? In fact, if I’m to be honest, I can’t wait for you to leave most weeks. I just want to get you out the door as quickly as possible, so I can crash out in bed and let the night swallow me. I don’t listen to my iPod on the way to work any more either. Happy songs irritate me, and sad songs just bring me down.

But today, something changed between us. I don’t know why, but things felt a little easier, didn’t they? You started being nice again. I had dinner with my friend that evening and we had a relaxing meal, catching up and putting the world to rights.

And as I said there laughing, I realised that for the first time since I can remember, I wasn’t faking it.

As I strolled home against the backdrop of that beautiful sunset you sent, I realised that for once, sleeping wasn’t going to be a relief. It was just going to be a nice end to a good day.

So thank you, Tuesday. It was great to see you again. I hope this marks a turning point, and that things are getting better between us. I might even dig my iPod out again next week. I’ll let you pick the music — as long as it’s something happy.

See you soon,
Love Kristian x

***************************************************

@guy_interrupted

http://sexdrugssausagerolls.wordpress.com/

Tuesday 5th October 2010 - @binkybird

Dear Tuesday,

I’m writing this in your early hours on my return from seeing Barrowman in Concert, but before panic sets in, don’t worry, this is not a review or a fangirl squee. Far from it, though I did have a lovely night.

As the music penetrated my brain tonight I realised that I’ve been missing it in my life recently. That occasionally happens, I seem to somehow forget how important music is to me, how it can affect my spirits and give my thoughts clarity. Maybe I take it for granted or perhaps it’s just so deeply rooted that I only notice the hole it leaves when it’s not there? Whatever it is, once in a while I seem to find the music has stopped and am baffled as to how and why. My response is to instantly wrap it round myself again and to snuggle into its embrace. There’s something about some music that I find just infuses the mind and senses, playing with emotions as if they’re just another instrument. Some of my most spontaneous emotional responses have been caused by music. They can evoke memory, stir your heart or leave you cold.

When I was little, like many kids, I loved to sing and to dance. Even before I was aware of developing my musical taste, there were songs that affected me deeply. Sadly a teenage lack of confidence backed by unfortunate teasing from family members and low self esteem overwhelmed my child’s exuberance, enthusiasm and fearlessness. Dancing was its first victim, singing a late follower. I still love both but now I assume a lack of skill with dancing and compensate with enthusiasm – who cares if you look silly.. Singing I do away from sight and hearing of others mostly, though on occasion friends may hear a brief tune. Maybe one day I’ll be take both up again with the untainted joy and enthusiasm I had before.

Despite this my love of music, in many of its forms, is strong. I often lack knowledge of who is performing what, but I have ever widening taste and my brain is but a small receptacle. While mood is often a key in deciding what to listen to, I have learned to love the randomness of an mp3 shuffle giving me surprises. A well aimed song can reduce me to tears or laughter. And that I think is its power.

I am so glad the music is back and even if I do take it for granted, I know that it will only take the half heard snatch of a song as I go about my life to connect to it once more.

***************************************************

Binky

@binkybird

Tuesday 5th October 2010 - @peacockpete

Walking to work this Tuesday morning with my new iPod (which I know I've been bleating about far too much), I understand why gadget geeks love their iPhones and smartphones, iPads and various other techno-ephemera. I say ephemera, as it's constantly changing and evolving. We all know that there's always something about to roll into the shops following another high profile launch.

It might sound a bit of an old-fashioned thing for me to say, but we are living in The Future. At least, a perceived vision of it. It's not just the fact you can watch TV shows and movies, as well as listening to your whole music collection from one device. It's not about being able to communicate visually as well as verbally between two wireless devices. It's more about the fact that information itself is a two-way street. We're just missing teleports, flying cars and fast space travel.

I'm not saying anything new here, I know, as we can share information at lightening speeds, interact, comment, and enlighten. Yet, as a species, we seem no smarter. I can download, right now and cheaply, the complete works of Tolstoy. I can get an app that delivers detailed information on artists and their works just like that.

Why don't I?

The technology is clever, but we are still human. Why stretch my brain when I get home? I just want to switch off, maybe watch some TV (that's possibly been downloaded), and not learn stuff. And therein lies the basics of human interaction as a whole.

Imagine if aliens were to show up today. I know, that's a bit random, but just picture it. We're becoming a technology based race and we have a lot of knowledge flying about. We also have petty jealousies and power struggles, and to a much larger degree, civil unrest and wars. We all have our biases, whether we admit it or not. It would probably instil the same reaction felt by the Conquistadors when they came across the Aztec empire. And we know how all that ended...

But I don't want to leave you with such a bleak outlook. The point is, as I have previously said, we have more access to information than we ever had before. This could actually be a turning point in human development. There will always be conflict, there will always be fear and hate. Because of this, we need to at least use the information that we have at our fingertips to understand a little more of the world, and the people, around us.

***************************************************

Pete Shorney

@peacockpete

peacockpete.wordpress.com

Tuesday 28th September 2010 - @RealDanielLee

This was MY kind of Tuesday: Cold, rainy, and I had plenty of coffee ready to make all day. As much as I love running around London, I really enjoy working from home on a day like this. I turn the music down low and listen to the trickling on my window as I research topics. Today I am finding all I can on Sir Ian McKellen, whom I meet tomorrow for an interview. I had already started volunteering at Stonewall before I knew he and a few other men and women started the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender organization in opposition of Section 28. If it were not for freethinking individuals as he is, there would be no same-gender marriage, no gay-adoptions, and possibly re-criminalization of simply being homosexual.

Don’t get me started here. I am passionate about human rights, equal-rights, gay-rights, whatever anyone calls it: When I can’t, while somebody else can, I shut-up only when things change or I know I’ve done all I can. This is the exciting part about meeting Ian: He didn’t shut-up, and now I am a happily married man with a wonderful husband, in a country where our wedding wasn’t just a party: It was as real and legal as one between a man and a woman. It sounds simple, until it is you, and it wasn’t possible just around five years ago.

The event was a dedication of a Blue Plaque to Peter Tatchell, a fellow GLBT rights campaigner, and one extremely deserving of the honour, with McKellen dedicating the plaque. The reception, five blocks away was in the schedule for a 10-minute walk. Ours was twenty-five. I enjoyed the stroll myself, and felt like I was taking an autumn stroll with my grandfather, although we were chatting about what needs to be done today, and furthering ‘the fight’. Most importantly how proud we are of the young people in the public’s eye who are gay are not as afraid of coming out as when he and I were their age. It is such a joy meeting people who have done so much, for so many, and work with them to do more. It may make for a twenty-hour day sometimes, but I never tire of the work.

***************************************************

Daniel Lee

@RealDanielLee