My life's dull, so a quick resume before I get on to things that concern really me.

France was good hard: lonely, but good. Didn't get on with the food, but I'm not a foody person, I didn't expect to. Threw up on the mountain (or mountain range) where half of the French resistance was slaughtered, heard almost no music the entire time (my CD player broke, and Frenchy "doesn't like music"), met almost no one I was attracted to (fair, really, as I didn't meet anyone who was attracted to me) and without doubt, the highlight was Frenchy's little sister, who (as I decided, in the hours each night between going to bed and actually sleeping, in which I mainly constructed elaborate fantasies concerning E, my return home and how I would describe each element of my holiday (I've always wanted to be as wonderfully epigrammatically gifted as Wilde), to refer to her) was as cute as three buttons, and pleasantly insane in the way only children are allowed to be. On the way back the plane was delayed over an hour and i was not granted the enthusiastic welcome I'd hoped for (though not realistically expected) and skived the next day to finish art coursework I was later told I hadn't even missed the deadline for. So that's my life up to now.

Just before I went to France, J informed me that he thought he "may be in lust with [F]", and thought this was reciprocated. I came back to find this had developed slightly, though not much. But, this Friday, the two of them sort of arranged to, um, meet in the toilets. I don't want to be graphic, but here goes. F started wanking J off, but (he tells me) this actually caused him some pain, so they swapped, and J masturbated F to climax (aargh! the first sounded lewd, the second horrid and clinical! what to do?). J is now, or has been, quite upset about the whole thing. It isn't really what he wanted, and F's lack of romanticism (they didn't kiss or anything)didn't help. I feel really sorry for J, because I really think he and I make up the more romantic (and, in fact, stalkerly- are the two connected?) part of the Ace Crew. I do, of course, side more with him. Because he's my best friend, because that's how I'd feel and because I don't hugely like F (can't I like anyone for long periods of time? I'm a horrible person).

The only other thing of any interest also involoves J. I had two tickets for Matthew Bourne's 'Play Without Words' and I decided to invite my best friend. He is younger than me, he's in year ten, and I'm not attracted to him. I have worried sometimes about this sort of thing, but I really don't think I am a paedophile (I think it's because, no matter what anyone says, there's always the idea of homosexuality being some sort of deviancy and so naturally you start making this sort of connection, even about yourself. And I have thought, um, young people attractive, but not been attracted to them. And I don't feel evil. And I know I could never assault someone, underage or not. This is hard to say so publicly). But, it seems J's father may think I am. Apparently, he went to our school and was 'groomed' (apparently, grooming is where an older boy takes a shine to a younger, and puts him into positions where he feels uncomfortable and obliged to do things. Old man J's experiences arent so severe, apparently, but people took a shine to him), and, naturally, is concerned for his son. Especially as they do suspect (gaah! need better verbs! it isnt a crime! (any more)) his sexuality. But it does hurt, to be accused like that. But he says they've been reassured.

Once again, this is actually still the day before. It seems likely that this will be my last post before I go to France, so goodbye. I have good news. J is back from Spain! I got to speak to him once more before I go. I've spoken to P as well, but there is no news about E (this sounds ridiculous). Today has been a huge rush, as it finally hit me that I need to finish my art coursework before I go. I am now staying up overnight to finish it. Perhaps not the best thing, considering last time I stayed up to finish art before I went on holiday I was so tired I felt ill. Oh well.

The Ace Crew. I was going to talk about them, and the role I've imagined for myself. Firstly, let me point out, that from our group of five, I am the only one who doesn't fancy and isn't fancied by any of the others. And I'm fine with that. But I always seem to try hold myself aloof, not in a nasty way, just because I seem to have taken it upon myself to be the 'responsible one'. And that just isn't me. I'm not responsible. It's all just my way of getting attention, this trying to cast myself in a sort of motherly role. I just want people to love me.

Well, I'm tired and lonely, what better thing to do than publish my blog? I'm really annoyed at myself. I seem to really dislike straight people (well, straight men (i only know three girls, one of whom constitutes my entire readership. We'll call her L). All of my best friends used to be straight, but I think it's fair that they've been superseded by my gay friends. But now whenever I'm with them I'm wondering if the things I don't like about them (which have recently multiplied scarily) are just things I don't like about them as individuals, or them as representatives of heterosexuality. And I think often these things (trivial, unimportant things) fall into the latter category. I don't like, for example, the way they're all so dismissive of anything not to their taste. I'm sure all my gay friends are much nicer and diplomatic about this kind of thing (examples of each, discussing musicians they didn't like: J: "I'm sorry, I really don't like her", A: "bleargh". There's a difference there, isn't there) Of course, I'm bound to be biased and so on, but i really don't believe I'm completely unjustified.

Darn. I had planned a short discourse on politics and literature, but you'll have to make do with this shallow rant. Sorry.

Darn. I was hoping for progress when I signed on today. It was two days ago that P (my friend in France; I really hope I don't end up confusing myself with this nonsense) gave me E's e-mail address and the day before that that he actually got it (not from E himself, though. He got it from, i believe, a mutual friend. But that's not important). Obviously right now this is the onus of my life. I have little else to talk about. This is the holidays, after all.

I should say that I've been thinking again about E again. By the end of last night I'd come to the conclusion that I do love him. I love him more when I think about the possibility that he's gay. I've discussed his sexuality loads with friends and a lot of opinions have come out favourably. And P reports someone saying he's gay in a pretty confident seeming way (This much obsession and analysis could be a little unhealthy), but i did once write down that i heard the same person yell out on the bus "[E] is gay", presumably just as an insult. And it seems fair, really, to be more attracted to him if he's gay. I mean, there's no point otherwise. Today, though, i decided it doesn't actually matter if I do yet. Soon, hopefully, I'm going to speak to him, properly this time, and surely I'll know better then.

Two full days left in this country.

So, hi. I'm Alix. I'm starting this thing as another attempt to reproduce my internal dialogue. I keep a diary too, but every so often that tails off. Maybe I'll be more faithful with a blog. Also, this thing has the possibility of giving me a fame, of sorts, which would be nice (cue hackneyed Wilde quote).

So, my life. Since being in year eleven, I've been obsessed with a boy in the year below. I'm in year thirteen now, and beginning to wonder if all that time i was referring to it as love I was completely wrong. I hope not, really, but I don't see how I'd know, being, as I said, seventeen, not an age we usually associate (at least, chez les hommes) with finding the love of your life. Especially not in this day and age.

But (I doubt many people pick up on this, but i just started a sentence with a preposition, one of the big grammar no-nos. Personally, i don't see how we're meant to get on without) the biggest problem is that I have just recently come out and, along with this, told people about my love for E (corny it may be, but i love him enough not to go blurting it out on the internet). And (another one, you see) now two of my best friends have become involved. One of them's currently on a french exchange with him, and before he went I asked him to get E's e-mail (I've recently discovered MSN. I love it! it renders me capable of actually talking to people!). He's got it, and now he's promising to engineer an online rendez-vous. Hopefully, even though i know E will (Funny, i had to avoid saying E'll. It just looks and sounds silly, doesn't it?) never love me, I might be able to befriend him (but would you befriend your stalker?). I want at least to tell him about my feelings, even if I'm no longer sure what they are.

Perhaps a little about the rest of my life is in order as well. I have a little sister, eleven, who I absolutely adore, but I'm still scared to tell her I'm gay. My mother knows, having read it in my diary, and i think my dad does too. I came out properly only about two months ago, to my friends at school, but unfortunately most people aren't actually interested enough in me to gossip. My best friend, J, is in year ten, and I love him so much. I was the first person he came out to and he's the person I talk to most comfortably about pretty much anything. He's only come out to other gay people, mostly (There's a group of us who've started to congregate, mostly outside the school library (It's odd, this sort of 'self-ghettoisation'. It's great, hanging out with people more similar to you, but I can't help wondering what other people think. I mean, people often complain about a lack of acceptance, but I for one feel much more comfortable around my gay friends (I'm sure I'd better fit the gay stereotype of having lots of female friends if I didn't go to a boys' school)), but it's a lot better than I'd done at his age. And now he's on holiday in Spain and I can't speak to him. I miss him. Still, at least he'll have lots of lovely e-mails to read when he gets back (by which time I'll be in France, dammit).

So that's my life (or the bits i consider interesting enough for public display).

Alix