A tale in one act
Welcome to my journal.  I use this place to make posts about things that are going on in my life.  I'm involved in an open relationship, and much of what I write here is about the things I feel about that subject.  I use the journal largely for hashing stuff out so that I can get my ideas in order and help myself to deal with issues I have with relationships, sex, and sexuality.

The title of the journal is "coming out as a heterosexual."  This is a reference to a post I made in which I realize that sex and sexuality are very important to my personality, but I have felt pressure all my life to avoid letting on that I am interested in sex in order to avoid being perceived as creepy or lecherous.  I was "in the closet" for a long time, and I have almost missed my chances at really great relationships with people I now love dearly because I was so careful about making people feel comfortable that I came across as uninterested in them sexually.  I am now attempting to learn how to be open about being a sexual person without crossing the line into creepy.  This journal is, in part, a chronicle of that.

I put most of my posts, but not all of them, under the friends filter.  I will usually add people as a friend if I recognize them from communities I'm in, or if they are friends of friends, but if you're not either of those and you want to be added, just leave a message here explaining why you do.

The things I post here are not usually sexually explicit, but if you're not comfortable hearing a guy talk frankly about his private life, you'll probably dislike reading my stuff.

Thanks for visiting!

I finally found the correct power supply for a portable hard drive I've been trying to get into for months.  It has backups of my old laptop, backups of my research, old videos that I haven't watched in ages, David Sedaris audiobooks, the Song of The South (a Disney movie with questionable racial stereotypes that is hard to get hold of), two seasons of the Smurfs, pirated games, and more porn than I'm ever going to look at.


So I'm looking for a gym.  I had a membership at the university gym in London which cost me about $25 a month for access to the machines and free weights, as well as the pool.  I never used the pool.  I ran on a treadmill and then lifted weights.  This worked well for me.

However, now I live in Toronto, somewhere distant from any of the universities.  And I'm trying to find a place to work out.  God damn is this annoying.  First, there are the big chain clubs like Premier, Goodlife, and Extreme Fitness.  They have big facilities, but their business model involves getting people in the door so they can be pitched to.  Extreme wasn't that bad.  I walked in and asked how much a membership is, and they told me.   $80/month, which leaves me dumbfounded that they have any clients at all.  Goodlife wasn't much better, at $60/month, but just getting them to tell me that was like pulling teeth.  I had to get into an argument with the desk guy over whether I needed to fill out a card with my information so they could start sending me junk mail.  He eventually gave up and let me speak to a sales-thing, who I needed to argue with for a couple of minutes before she just spit out a number at me.  No prices are written down on anything, anywhere in the building.  At least Extreme had a clearly-printed sheet that they could show me once I sat down at a table with their own sales-thing.

I haven't even looked at Premier, because they're pretty well-known on the internet for being a bunch of scam artists...double-billing, refusing to end memberships, etc.

There are some "boutique" gyms around the neighbourhood, but nothing that looks any good.  One of them is a "kosher" gym, apparently for the people in funny hats who live in my neighbourhood.  The other ones are either very expensive, women-only, or just give me the creeps with an "alternative health" aura about them.

There is also the community centre.  It's priced reasonably (at around $10/month), but the facilities are worse than Western's old facilities before they renovated, and the hours are terrible.  So my choices seem to be "decent facility, but more than I want to pay," or "less than I'm willing to pay, but a total dump."  Where is the "pretty good" gym with moderate prices to fill that niche?

So I'm stumped.  I don't know where I can go to get a bit of cardio and lift weights.  And I need to get some exercise pretty badly.  I'm starting to feel like I'm disintegrating.  I miss being a bit meaty.

I got a blister on my finger last night dismantling a desk.  Today it broke.  I was afraid it would get infected so I poured peroxide on it.  I expected it to sting, but NOT LIKE THIS.

Moar video
Favourite youtube comment:

"now with less 'complete shit' and more 'ambient snakes'"

A challenger appears!

Okay, so it's been a good week for WTF at work.

Your daily WTF
This is the best thing I have found while working this week.  What is this I don't even.

I really think this is some of the Olsen twins' best work.

I am running now.  I have gone on two runs, which could just be a coincidence, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that there's a correlation there and that I am now running.  I'm starting slow, with 3 km runs.  It takes me about 20 minutes or so to complete them, but I get the feeling that if I pushed myself I could get the time down.  I start to drag a bit in the last 5 minutes or so, but I expect that my body will get used to the routine, like it usually does when I start exercising regularly.

LJ Mobile app for Android
Blue hair

Well, I wasn't sure it was possible, but they made it less useful than the mobile site.

Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.


(no subject)
Found on the internet the other day:

"Now, speaking on behalf of all heterosexual males for a moment, no man worth his salt gives a sailor's tug how big a lady's chest is. We could get aroused simply glancing at a crude charcoal sketch of a single boob scrawled on the side of a shed. Place an actual, live pair of boobs in our immediate proximity and you've already fulfilled our every waking dream. Who cares how many atoms they're made out of? THEY'RE BOOBS, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! CAN'T YOU GRASP THE SIMPLE SOARING MAJESTY OF THAT?"

This makes me smile, because I agree.  The only guy I've ever met who really gave a rat's crap about women having big boobs was, as far as I could tell, a seriously-in-denial closeted gay, who overcompensated by declaring loudly his attraction to women like Pamela Anderson or other women who look like haggard, plastic porn stars.  Boobs are just awesome, and it's silly to worry about their size and shape, and simply tragic to carve them up and ruin them for the sake of trying to alleviate dysmorphia.


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