Yesterday’s meeting went well, and now I’m in that familiar in-between space: the waiting. There’s nothing to do at this point except let it unfold as it will. I feel good about the conversation, and for now, that’s enough.
Today I’m working from home, though it’s one of those days where there isn’t much on the agenda beyond a few emails and tying up loose ends. I’m not complaining. Sometimes a lighter day is exactly what’s needed after a week that carried a bit of nervous energy.
I don’t have any real plans for the weekend, and honestly, that feels just fine. I’m looking forward to the next episode of Heated Rivalry, and beyond that it’ll be the usual small, grounding things: a few chores around the apartment, some reading, and plenty of time to just relax and recharge.
I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend—whether it’s full and busy or slow and quiet in all the best ways.
I’m off work today, and tomorrow I’ll be working from home, which means I don’t have to step foot back in the office until Monday. Honestly, that small buffer feels like a gift. I have an appointment this morning that I’m anxious about, even though I’ve been preparing myself for it for over a week now. I keep reminding myself to breathe, stay calm, and trust that I’ve done what I can.
If the appointment goes well—and if I’m feeling motivated enough afterward—I want to go to Planet Fitness today. My goal is simple: don’t let myself talk my way out of going. I know that once I get back into a routine, I’ll feel better for it, but breaking the inertia is always the hardest part.
Short post today, I know, but my mind is on other things. I hope everyone has a peaceful Thursday and an even more peaceful weekend ahead.
I really need to start going back to the gym. I haven’t been since those back problems started in July—other than two very short, half-hearted attempts—and every time I tell myself I’ll go after work, it somehow never happens. My orthopedist has encouraged me to ease back into it, but good intentions and actual follow-through don’t always line up, especially when your couch keeps whispering sweet nothings.
I had enjoyed working out… though I’ll admit that might have had a little something to do with my very cute trainer at the time. He showed me what to do, corrected my posture, kept me motivated—and now he’s no longer a trainer, which leaves me feeling a bit intimidated. Without someone there to guide me, I’m suddenly aware of how little I really know about what to do at the gym.
Planet Fitness’s app has videos and instructions for all their machines—upper body, core, lower body, plus whatever I choose for cardio (let’s be honest, it will be the treadmill). I could absolutely follow a routine from that. The problem is less about knowledge and more about confidence, or maybe inertia. I keep telling myself that if I could get into a rhythm again, I’d probably enjoy it. But step one is, annoyingly, simply making myself go.
And let’s be honest: the eye candy is definitely a motivator. Gyms always have eye candy. Unfortunately, it’s also the eye candy that makes me feel intimidated—like everyone else knows exactly what they’re doing while I’m still figuring out which way to face on a machine. It’s hard to look confident when your inner monologue is, “Does this adjust up? Down? Am I about to embarrass myself?”
I need to check whether they’ve hired a new trainer and, if so, get on their schedule. I think having someone there who actually knows what they’re doing would help me feel a lot less lost.
I’m off work tomorrow. I have a meeting—one I’m both excited about and nervous about. For once, it’s something I don’t want to talk about yet. Depending on how it goes, I may share more later. What I am hoping, though, is that after the meeting I’ll be able to ride that momentum straight to the gym. Optimism versus intimidation… we’ll see who wins.
Here’s hoping tomorrow brings clarity—and maybe the spark to get me back on the treadmill too.
Sitting under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), One last candle burning low, All the sleepy dancers gone, Just one candle burning on, Shadows lurking everywhere: Some one came, and kissed me there.
Tired I was; my head would go Nodding under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), No footsteps came, no voice, but only, Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely, Stooped in the still and shadowy air Lips unseen—and kissed me there.
I was thinking the other day about kissing—it came up in a discussion—and it made me wonder: when was the last time I was kissed passionately or romantically? Really kissed. And the truth is… I couldn’t remember. Men I’ve dated often don’t want to kiss, or there’s a “no kissing on the first date” rule. So yes, it’s been a while. And I miss it. I’ve always loved kissing. It was actually kissing the last girlfriend I ever dated that made me realize I no longer wanted to try dating women. The kiss wasn’t bad—it was fine—but I remember thinking that I’d rather be her, the one kissed, held, and cherished. That desire to be held and loved, to feel that deep sense of comfort and safety, was the first real shift in how I understood my sexuality.
Anyway, I’m already off topic. This morning was bitterly cold (it was –8° last night and still –1° when I got up), and as I searched for a poem that felt right for December—something that carried the hush of the season—I returned to Walter de la Mare’s “Mistletoe.” I’ve used this poem in the past, but it hits differently every time I read it.
About the Poem
“Mistletoe” is a winter whisper of longing, enchantment, and loneliness. De la Mare captures that in-between moment at the end of a party—when the music has stopped, the candles have burned low, and someone remains behind in the soft afterglow. It’s a scene suspended between waking and dreaming. Out of that stillness comes a kiss, quiet and unannounced, arriving like magic or memory or hope.
The kiss is tender, mysterious, and possibly imagined. That ambiguity is the poem’s heartbeat:
Is the kiss real, or is it the dream of someone wishing desperately to be kissed?
From a queer perspective, the poem resonates even more. Many LGBTQ+ people know what it means to sit on the margins of gatherings, to feel both present and unseen. Many of us have spent years longing for a kiss we didn’t yet have permission to want—or couldn’t openly ask for. The poem’s “lips unseen” carry the suggestion of a secret desire, a hidden affection, or the longing for intimacy that might not be safe to show in public.
The mistletoe itself—a plant associated with holiday traditions, romantic possibility, and the chance of a spontaneous kiss—becomes a symbol of queer yearning. It represents the hope that love might find us unexpectedly, even quietly, even when we feel most alone.
Reading it today, what struck me most was the tenderness of an unseen kiss offered to someone tired, lonely, half-asleep. It feels like a blessing of comfort. A reminder that desire doesn’t disappear simply because time has passed. A reminder that even in the coldest season, warmth can find us.
And maybe, for some of us, a reminder that we still long to be kissed—and that it’s okay to say so.
About the Poet
Walter de la Mare (1873–1956) was an English poet, novelist, and writer of children’s literature, best known for his atmospheric, dreamlike style. His work often explores the boundary between the real and the uncanny, weaving together memory, imagination, and the subtle tensions of solitude. De la Mare’s poetry is marked by musical phrasing and delicate imagery, and he remains beloved for pieces like “The Listeners” and his numerous anthology favorites. Though he lived a largely private life, his work continues to resonate with anyone drawn to mystery, introspection, and the quiet emotional spaces we tend to visit in winter.
Every now and then, a book series grabs hold of me so completely that I find myself staying up far too late because I have to read just one more chapter. That’s exactly what happened when I picked up Rachel Reid’s Game Changers series—starting with the first two books, Game Changer and Heated Rivalry. I’ll be honest: hockey romances are not usually my favorite subgenre of m/m romance. But these books completely won me over. They’re steamy, full of heart, and emotionally rich in all the best ways. They’re the kind of novels that make you sigh one moment and fan yourself the next.
If you haven’t read Rachel Reid before, she’s a Canadian author widely loved for her blend of erotic heat and emotional tenderness. Her Game Changers novels focus on professional hockey players navigating fame, pressure, identity, and love—with characters so well developed that you can’t help falling for them. Reid has become one of the standout voices in contemporary LGBTQ+ romance, and it’s easy to see why.
It was actually the new television adaptation, Heated Rivalry, that convinced me to pick up the books. I checked out the series when it premiered and immediately fell for its production quality—and let’s be honest, the steaminess. The adaptation stays remarkably close to the novels, even lifting some dialogue straight from the page. Episode three, which adapts Game Changer, deviates more (condensing an entire book into 50 minutes will do that), but it still captures the heart of the story. And yes, the sex scenes absolutely live up to the hype.
After devouring the first two books, I’m now reading Tough Guy, book three. I’m enjoying it, even if it isn’t hooking me quite as deeply as the first two. I’m looking forward to continuing the series, especially books four and five (Common Goal and Role Model). But the book I’m especially eager to reach is the sixth, The Long Game, which returns to the couple from Heated Rivalry and continues their story. I’ve heard nothing but glowing praise.
One of the joys of the TV adaptation is its casting. Shane Hollander is played by Hudson William, and Ilya Rozanov is portrayed by Connor Storrie. Their chemistry is electric, and the show gives them the time and space to build a believable, aching, deeply sensual connection. François Arnaud, who plays Scott Hunter, is openly bisexual and has long been a visible voice for LGBTQ+ representation. And Robbie G.K., who plays the impossibly cute Kip Grady, steals nearly every scene he’s in. There isn’t much publicly available about his personal life aside from the fact that he appears to be single, but he brings a joyful, queer-coded energy to the role that fans immediately latch onto.
The show is also notable for its broader LGBTQ+ representation behind the scenes. Reporting from Out highlights that multiple queer actors and creators are involved in the project, helping shape a series that treats queer romance with sincerity, playfulness, respect, and heat. It’s refreshing to see a production that doesn’t shy away from the eroticism of the source material while still leaning into its emotional beats.
If you enjoy sports romances, queer love stories, or simply beautifully crafted television, I highly recommend picking up Game Changer, Heated Rivalry, and the rest of the Game Changers series—and definitely give the TV adaptation a try. Even if hockey isn’t normally your thing, this series might just charm you the way it did me.
And honestly? It’s just a whole lot of fun.
The series debuted on Crave with a two-episode premiere on November 28, 2025, followed by weekly episodes, with the finale airing on December 26. In advance of the program’s television premiere, the first episode received a preview screening at the 2025 Image+Nation festival on November 23, 2025. The series was released by HBO Max in the United States and Australia, Sky in New Zealand, and Movistar Plus+ in Spain.
Joe
The Closet Professor 