Monday, 12 September 2011

Imaginings

I took Thursday and Friday off last week and was due back at work today, but late on yesterday, I decided I needed more time, so via text message I let the boss know my intentions. Time for what though, isn't quite clear, for even as I write, I'm thinking it hasn't turned out as fruitful as expected, so maybe I'd have been better off going to the office?

Prior to, I envisaged a scenario of each day infinitely long, infinitely productive, infinitely fascinating, and profoundly satisfying. Ha! You'd think at my age I'd know better? Not so, Pedro! I guess it's the triumph of optimism over reality, or, to coin it poetically, "mugging by imagination".

I'm not alone though, I'm sure. Although I like to think I'm an atypical person, I know this isn't true. Isn't the most common cry of all in the form of, "Well.... it was okay but...", or, "He was a little disappointing..."? People, places, scenarios, all imagined or hoped for, as pristine, polished, or nigh on perfect, prior that is, to the acid-test of reality. You know, I can think of only one place, along with one person, that exceeded my imaginings. But that's a story for another time.

To finish, going off at a tangent, applying a hand-brake turn to a sharp left, and taking the scenic "around the edges of the Universe" route, it occurred to me that... it occurred to me... it.... sorry, I'm mistaken, that's it folks. The End.

* The photo is of the clutter, the "stuff", amassing on the left-side of the sofa.

Saturday, 10 September 2011

Housework & I

It's 8.50pm as I start writing this first sentence. That's late for me. I don't think I've ever attempted a post at this time. I'm "difficult". Okay, I know most of you know this about me, but I mean I'm difficult too when it comes to writing, insisting on the muse, the buzz of caffeine, or some kind of "inspiration" to fuel me. This insistence rules out this hour, as typically I tend to wind down, become sleepy, or maybe take a beer or two; coffee too is most certainly out of the question. So what's different tonight? I don't really know. I can guess, and say it's my third consecutive day off work and I've finally shed all the knots of tension that the working days create, so now I'm finally relaxed; but I've had time off before, and for longer periods too, and still I've not written at this hour. It's a mystery.

So what have I to say? Nothing much, just a repeat, or an edited version of what I've already written on Facebook. You know, it's occurred to me, instead of commenting on social networks, or putting out status statements, I might do best to save them up as they occur, and then work them into blog posts. Maybe that's the answer. Perhaps I've been guilty of writing myself out! Who knows? Anyway, here's my statement..

It's great being on my own. Especially as the sofa, normally a simple seating device for two persons, has now been transformed. The right side, where I sit to eat, compute, and watch tv, is clear but the other half is now acquiring stuff! There's my ipad, various handsets, a spectacle case, an off-the-shelf pair of reading glasses, sunglasses, an unused webcam, the post from the past three days, used and semi-used tissues (no, not in that way!) and, tonight's acquisition, a half-finished bag of grapes. The cat, who likes to get close, is not here as yet, but I'm sure she'll be settled in soon, amongst these bits and bobs, this veritable gallimaufry of 'stuff'. I'll keep you posted, maybe.

I've about a week left before the situation changes. Then, the other person, the other 'force' returns, so considerations have to be made. I've no doubt I'll remedy the situation, and tidy up, prior to her arrival, as I've done so in the past in similar circumstances. I'll probably give the vacuum a quick work-out too... yes, I know, you're surprised, but I do have the know-how, the experience. I shall leave the washing machine alone though. That's just too technical for me. I might work in the IT industry, but come on... do me a favour...

[as I'm writing the cat's arrived and is sitting on my mouse lead making it awkward for me to edit as I go... fucking animal!]

I'm wondering how it would be if I were alone permanently. Would I amass, for want of a better word, debris? Would the "paraphernalia" spread beyond the confines of the sofa, and spill out over the floor, into other rooms? I doubt it. I've lived alone before, though it was in the dim and distant past, and lasted no more than a few months. But even so, I was surprisingly tidy. I think now though, I'd play a game, a kind of brinkmanship, deliberately leaving dirty dishes and the remnants of foodstuffs, to the point where they're on the verge of cultivating new forms of life. I'd do this simply as a reaction to having been nagged for so many years, sniped at, having been a victim of attempted manipulation. I can't help it, I'm just not good, generally speaking, at "dancing to someone else's tune"

[I'll fucking kill that cat if it doesn't move its arse]

I'm clean, and I'm tidy, but I do like to do things at my leisure, in MY time.

Continuing the theme, though they go far beyond me, I urge you to read this, from the Script of Withnail & I. Go see the film too, if you haven't already.

Withnail:
Have you got soup? Why didn't I get any soup?
I:
Coffee
Withnail:
Why don't you use a cup like any other human being?
I:
Why don't you wash up occasionally like any other human being?
Withnail:
How dare you!? How dare you!? How dare you call me inhumane!?
I:
I didn't call you inhumane, you merely imagined it. Calm down.
Withnail:
Right you fucker - I'm going to do the washing up!

[He strides towards the kitchen. I jumps over the arm of the settee and
stops him.]

I:
No no you can't. It's impossible I swear it. I've looked into it.
Listen to me listen to me. There are things in there, there's a
tea-bag growing. You haven't slept in sixty hours you're in no state
to tackle it. Wait till the morning we'll go in together.
Withnail:
This is the morning. Stand aside!
I:
You don't understand. I think there may be something alive.
Withnail:
What do you mean? a rat?
I:
It's possible, it's possible.
Withnail [brandishing his comb]:
Then the fucker will rue the day!

[He rushes up the the sink.]

Withnail:
Oh Christ Almighty. Synous nicotine based. Keep back, keep back. The
entire sink's gone rotten. I don't know what's in here.

[He picks up the kettle from the stove then throws it suddenly into the
sink.]

I:
I told you. you've been bitten!
Withnail:
Burnt, burnt, the fucking kettle's on fire.
I:
There's something floating up.
Withnail [with a fork in his hand]:
Fork it!
I:
No no no, I don't want to touch it.
Withnail:
You must you must. The poop will boil through the glaze. We'll never
be able to use the dinner service again.

[He rumages about in a drawer.]

Withnail:
Here, get it with the pliers!
I:
No, no, no, no, no, no. Give me the gloves.
Withnail:
That's right, put on the gloves. Don't attempt anything without the
gloves.

Friday, 9 September 2011

Arsebook & the Antichrist

Facebook. What can I say? I have an account. Mostly, it's de-activated. But on occasion, like now, I muster courage enough to place myself inside. It's essentially, a cyber goldfish bowl.

It doesn't change. Always feels the same. I feel under intense scrutiny, and if that's not bad enough, I'm beset with requests, alerts, and worst of all, "People you may know". What can I say, except, NO I DON'T! And even if I did, it's hardly likely I'd want to include them. So fuck off, you intrusive twat! I'll take charge of my own acquaintances if you don't mind; and besides, it's my aim to reduce the number of people on my list, not pile them up in a show of, "look how popular I am!". I have around 22 persons on my list, the majority of them family, but in terms of online communication, I'm engaged with a small, very small, subset of them. And that's how I like it. Just like reality!

Flying off on a tangent, and apropos of nothing, I know a guy who doesn't give a shit. In fact, he doesn't give two shits. It's a fact. How do I know this? Well, he tells us so - that's all those who know him. And frequently too. Every day in fact, constantly. Week in, week out. Hey, you know something? I just had insight - this guy does give a shit!

Last night I watched a film, Antichrist. It was "recommended" by a friend. I had to go lie down afterwards in a lightened room and watch Disney films.

Thursday, 8 September 2011

But then again...

Having said all that in my previous post, here I am having the 'odd day off' (well two to be precise). I couldn't wait. The thought of so much free (and alone) time was too tempting. In my mind's eye having each day spread before me, in which to do as I please, was equivalent to anticipating the company of a wild and willing woman. So here I am. And you know something? There's no chemistry between myself and this day. Sigh.

Sunday, 4 September 2011

By popular demand...

I was tempted to post yet another pic of myself sitting at my computer, but I thought, enough is enough. Just how much of my fine features can the public stand? So I spared you…

Have you noticed how the seasons are shifting? It would seem so. Here, autumn began in mid August, with golden leaves strewn all over the central reservation of the local dual-carriageway. It's turned chilly too, as evidenced first thing in the morning, with condensation on the car window. At this rate we'll be having Spring at Christmas and winter in high-summer. Maybe the earth is turning over slowly, till eventually we'll be in the Southern Hemisphere. I wonder if that will affect a change in our spoken English too? Oh well, no worries, mate!

I've got 12 days holidays left. Those are work days, so effectively, I could have one vacation 16 days long (12 days plus two weekends) or, two 8 day holidays(6 days plus a weekend). I realise I could have several odd days off here and there, in the run up to Christmas, but that's not me. I guess I'm a, "let's experience life in big chunks" kind of man. Give me big chunks every time, something to grab hold of, you know what I mean? Hands up all those who agree!

The big question is, where to go? For a while now I've toyed with the idea of a local visit, somewhere in the UK, and in particular, the Yorkshire Dales or the Moors. I quite fancy the idea of renting a cottage in splendid isolation (the isolation that comes with free wi-fi internet of course). But then, I've the opportunity of staying at my mate's house in Brussels (that's the Brussels of Belgium fame, of strong beer, and senseless nights of over-indulgence - if you're a Brit!). I'm not sure though. He has a family, and as lovely as they are, I fear I'll have a nervous breakdown after a week of playing punch-bag and climbing frame for the kids.

I could do a "biggie", a journey to the far-east for instance, maybe taking in a series of exotic places on a fortnight cruise, but for the moment, I'm all cruised-out. I've done three big-ship cruises in two years, and now I've decided, as plush and luxuriant as they are, it's all too regimented. I'm in need of something less planned. Of course, there is the cliched, "Back-packing in Thailand", but then I'd prefer that with a companion, and at such short-notice, there are non-available. So what to do? Methinks I'll leave it percolating on the back-burner of my mind for a while.

Final word. I was saddened to hear the other week, the word "goloptious" meaning, "delightful", has been eliminated from the Concise Oxford English Dictionary, due to lack of use. I'm urging you all - yes, every damn one of you - to keep it alive. I'll expect to see it thriving soon.