HI! I've decided that today I'm gonna do a serious blog......BOOBIES!......sorry had to get it out of the way. But yes, it's on the subject of religion. It's not something I'm madly into despite the fact I was raised a catholic but I feel I wanna say some stuff about it. Not sure what yet but I'm sure I'll work that out as I go along. :)

Ok so first thing's first. What made me want to write a blog about it? Well I've felt for a few years now that I'm not altogether a very religious person. In the real sense of the word anyway. That's not to say I don't have any beliefs it's just I'm not sure what they are. But the thing that made me realise I was probably more of a prat about it than I was religious was recently when I went to church. There was a communion and to this day I'm not sure why I wasn't meant to go up to the front but I only realised when I was up there I was the only one from my family who'd got up. I took it anyway and went back to the seat and asked mum why no one else went up. She told me it was something to do with....Ok I can't remember what she told me but something to do with different catholics. And I did a mock horrified look and pretended to take it out of my mouth. It was this incident really that made me realise I definitely didn't understand the catholic religion. Mainly my mum's reaction. She, at first, looked like she might laugh and then she seemed to remember herself and went mental at me. Telling me not to take the piss and calling me a twat (which in my eyes is a worse thing to do in church than what I did but...I don't know much). But anyway at the time I didn't really think much of it because...well that's the way I am. It's how I deal with things. I wouldn't say take the piss because I don't think I was. If I don't understand something or feel uncomfortable then I will joke about it. I'm not saying it's a good thing to do but I genuinely can't help it. I could help it I suppose if I wanted to but I reckon I could fall apart or something. It's like an autopilot reaction. I don't think of it before or after. Except when I'm pulled up on it like on this occasion. And after I was sorry that I offended my mum. But more sorry that I'd gone in the first place. Which leads me onto perhaps the real reason behind the blog.

In my own personal view I don't think religion is something you should enter into lightly. Like with church. You shouldn't go because it's expected of you. The way I've felt all my life is that we've been expected to go to church and if we don't then we're selfish. But really it's only now I'm starting to think....are we? Is it selfish to go to somewhere every week when you don't really have much of a clue what's going on? And yes I know I should know but I really don't. There are things about religion I love. I love the fact it brings people together. I love the stories in the Bible. But I don't think I get it. That's not to say I never will it's just where I am at this point in my life I don't. Maybe it's due to the fact that I was quite confused about religion when I was younger. I don't think my nan ever had that trouble from what she's said. She said when she was younger she knew the mass word for word. Better than the priest sometimes. That baffles me. She is a woman who has never had any doubts about religion. Well it seems that way anyway. And I really admire her for that. But me...well I was an odd young man. For a start I always thought 'Grandad in Heaven' was God. And until I was about 6 or 7 God was never pictured, in my head, with a big white beard but like the picture of Grandad that Granny had in her room. In fact I remember being alarmed when flicking through a prayer book to find a picture of this supposed God. God didn't have a beard!! Also it leads me on to quite a dark thing in my past that I actually only remembered last year when talking to someone about religion. It was in a time when I was going through quite a lot of thinking about myself and why I was in Wales and the like and remembering this thing probably didn't help. But it was when I was very little. Not sure how little but we were living in Cardiff. Perhaps 3 or 4? But anyway Granny and Mum were putting me to bed and I'd said something about Grandad or something and they started telling me about heaven. They told me that when I died and went to heaven I'd meet Grandad and it'd be a wonderful place where I could do anything. Just a good place. I can't remember the exact things but...well it sounded nice. Anyway the next day (I dunno if it was but in my memory it was. Soon after anyway) I was in the kitchen by myself and I remember going to the cutlery drawer with the intention of getting a knife. And then my dad walked in. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have done anything majorly bad but I have a feeling I know what my intentions were. Guess we'll never know thanks to my dad. But it made me think when I remembered this that what with my imagination perhaps I wasn't the best person to get religion. I mean I remember being in church when I was young and when I'd hear a baby crying I'd look up to the grand ceiling and think that Mary was up in the attic of the church with the baby Jesus. There'd be no questions in my mind. I still remember the mental picture I had of it. Scary that it's still there really.

Some years later when I was perhaps 5 or 6 I went to Catechism Camp which is basically a summer camp for young catholic kids to learn about things like communion and confirmation. I have to say that this was probably the most fun I've had with religion. There are some people I met there who I wish I was still in contact with now. Very funny people. And Father Lessiter may still be one of the funniest adults I've ever met. He was just a lovely guy. And when he spoke about religion and faith you really listened. But even then that's certainly all I ever did. I never raised my hand and answered questions....like Anna. That's another thing, it always seemed to me Anna was a lot more clued up on religion than I ever was. Granny always seemed more impressed with Anna than she did with me because I was slow. But looking at the situation now I'm not sure Anna was anymore clued up than I was. She knew the bits and bobs but I think it was more pretence than knowledge. But anyway...I did like summer camp. I liked the Bible stories. In fact I remember having a weird obsession with the story about the king ordering the head of John the Baptist. But really although I did like it I never felt I understood it more. It was just lots of young people, nice songs, nice stories and nice trips out. I don't think really I took anymore away from it than that. Maybe if I'd have kept going. Think I only went 3 summers. But then I dunno. Probably not.

I spoke a bit about Anna before. She is the only one of my brothers and sisters I've ever spoken to about religion. Which leads me to believe, besides Stu and Ben perhaps, they all feel kinda the same as me. Not understanding of it. Although like I said I don't know because I don't talk to them about it. I've spoken to Mum and Dad about it before. On seperate occasions. Mum gets it. Maybe as much as Granny does. But I think the difference between them is that Mum seems to have more difficulty passing it on to others if you get me. I mean to say that she herself gets it but she couldn't sit down with kids and talk about it. Dunno why. Never really questioned it. Granny could do that but you wouldn't especially want her to. Mainly because she gets very annoyed and frustrated if you don't understand and takes it out on you. In fact I remember one time when I went somewhere with her, just me and her, and I told her I wanted to be an actor when I grew up and she said "Why would you want to do that?! Pretending to be someone else all your life!" and she then said in not so many words that I should think about becoming a priest. This led me to think that she knew more about religion than she did about me as a person. Or perhaps she didn't. Maybe I would be a good priest if the knowledge I'd been known to have been given in my life had sunk in. But the fact of the matter is I still didn't get it. In fact after that I'd steer clear of religious subjects with Granny if I could help it. By the way if you don't know my nan and you base your opinion of her on that statement about me not being an actor I can say you'd be wrong. Ever since then she's been nothing but supportive of my acting and in fact gets more frustrated about the fact I don't do enough about it. She's one of the nicest people I've ever met. She makes me laugh lots and I always ask her to tell the same stories about Grandad. It'd be easy to get the wrong impression about her maybe because of her passion about religion but over the years we've got to know each other better. Although having said that if she ever reads this blog I'm sure we'd have a big long argument ready. But anyway...ah yes. Dad. I've spoken to Dad about it and I don't think he gets it. In fact I'd say I get it better than he does. That might be wrong of course because he is an odd fellow and you never know what's going on in his head. But I've always felt more on his wavelength about it even before we talked about it. Anna I've spoken to. She still seems pretty sure about but...again I don't know whether she feels it or it's just for an appearance. Maybe for Granny's sake. I'd like to ask the others about it but I won't. Mainly because I think I'd know what they'd say.

But anyway. I'm gonna stop now because I've rambled on for very long. I just want to close by saying that I do have respect for religion, despite what I've said or done in the past, and that I'm not saying I'm closing myself off from it forever. This might annoy some people but I'm gonna compare religion to a Beatles song. Some Beatles songs I've been listening to for absolute years. I like them. I respect the writing but I don't get it. Then with one listen, one listen after 1300 listens, I get it. I absolutely get everything they're saying. I understand it. Maybe that'll happen for me and religion one day. I don't think I'm cynical. I just think I'm a phony if I kid myself into thinking that I am what I'm not. I don't want to be a phony. Thankyou for reading if you did. :)

I found this video earlier on my computer from when I lived alone...clearly I was bored. I can't remember it. Watch it if you'd like your mind numbed. :D

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P.s. I said I'd post another soon.

Each morning Timothy would wake up with a start. He'd fall back asleep with a finish. This would be the way he carried on until 3:42pm GMT. Whenever time would reach this point he'd have no choice but to sit bolt up right, race to the bathroom and do his teeth. By do I, of course, mean clean. Timothy's teeth were strange creatures. They closely resembled baked beans. In colour and in shape. Each day he'd always feel around his face over the course whiskers that grew around his chin. He often thought if he'd shave more often then perhaps it'd grow back as a proper beard but it never did. He never did. He'd stare blankly into the mirror into the eyes of someone he didn't know anymore. Then he'd slowly walk downstairs to prepare himself for the afternoon's events. He never missed an episode of Countdown. Never! He was most perturbed when Richard Whitely selfishly died only to leave two shadows of men in his place but this didn't put him off. Carol was still there. He switched his television on and walked into his kitchen to get his snacks. He opened the cupboard and found a half eaten bag of Cool Original Doritos and rescued it from it's dark holding. He then went to the fridge to reach for the dip. 'Ahh Houmous.' he thought. He hadn't checked the sell by date on it for months but this didn't seem to bother him. He took these treats to the front room where an advert about life insurance played to no one. He then walked down his long hallway and opened to the front door to bring the milk in. In the milk cap was a hole where some kind of beaked creature had obviously felt the thirst of the warm day. This didn't seem to bother him either. He took the bottle into the front room, discarded the holy cap and took a swig. He was ready. Then the all too familar theme tune started ringing out....

HEIGH HO!!! You alroight my little bloggy bunnies?! I've not written to you for aaaaaaaages. I asked myself why this was recently and I couldn't really think of an answer other than me being an idiot. I'd started a few blogs but it's hard to get back into the swing when you've not written for ages. There becomes so much to tell that you can't actually fit it all in one blog without missing out some good bits (I'm just kidding myself blogger, there are no good bits) but now I've got to the stage where I just feel...yes! Blog it is and blog it shall be. So saddle up, line up your soldiers, rid your apple of it's skin and join me in a celebration of me. You know it makes......salad.

So.....what have I been doing? Well! Well...well, well, well. Well. That is the question isn't it? I'm back living in Ingerlund now. Maldon to be precise. Does it feel weird? Yes a bit. Feels right though. I wasn't happy in Newport, especially towards the end, and I think I was kidding myself a bit. Don't get me wrong I did enjoy it but...it really didn't work. So now the plan is to get my own place after Christmas. With Mike and Ash perhaps. Being back has made me realise how much I missed my friends before as well. I had none in Wales. I had the Maceys but there was no one my age. In all honesty it wasn't really a noticeable problem as I am quite happy in my own company most of the time but as time wore on it became apparent that it was getting me down. And since I've been back I've been having an absolute blast. In fact some of my old friends who I didn't know that well before I've got to know a lot better which is really nice. So yes. Moving back in with the family and leaving behind a flat that was my very own sounds quite scary, and really a bit stupid, but it just seemed natural. I'm enjoying being James again.

Also in less than two weeks time I'm going away to Dublin! Woo! I never go anywhere. Mainly because I used to be so disorginised but these days I'm a real trooper. I mean...ok I made that up. Louis sorted out the tickets and everything. If it had been left up to me then we wouldn't be going but still! It's all in the name of fun. But it's 3 days in Dublin with Louis, Mike, Al and Owen. Should be a good old chuckle. There was a bit of a question mark over whether it would happen though because Louis booked the flights with an online check in option which means you need your passport. Which is lovely! Means you can just stroll in and just go straight ahead. No hanging about for hours and little waiting. Perfick. Slight flaw was neither me nor Mike have a passport. Idiots. So we've been rushing about with forms and the like and it seemed pretty inevitable this whole thing could become a disaster. But then we had the bright idea that we could change our check in details and therefore just use driving licence. Which we did. But this means Mike and I now need to be at the airport 4 hours before the flight. Which means 7am! Fabulous! :D So my dad's taking me and Mike over and then Mum's bringing the other lads over a few hours later. It's typical. It would be us two! Out of 5 it had to be us. I'm sure we'll amuse ourselves. Surely 7am tinnie session?!

What else have I been doing?! Not a hell of a load. Been waiting for a Postman job. Been waiting for about 76 years actually. Passed the interview and all that but...nothing. Nada! Zip! Zilch! Sverige! Sverige? I dunno. But in short I've still not got anything. I've had a few reassuring calls from Royal Mail saying it should be happening soon. And I also get my pappy telling me the same but...annoying. But I'm surviving. Just.

Oooh! I'll tell you more travel plans. I have two for early next year. One of them is doing something I've wanted to do for actual ages. I'm taking my brothers up to Liverpool for a weekend to see all the Beatlesy things. Like Penny Lane, Strawberry Fields, Cavern Club and all that jazz! Actually can't wait. I have a feeling I'll be a lot more excited than the boys. The second is one that I'm very excited about. As Ash isn't coming to Dublin (which is very annoying!) we've decided that next year we're going to plan a little trip around the UK and stay with people we know. Spend two days in each place. It'll be awesome. I'll tell you the plan (if you're interested...you're not but still!). We start of by going down to Newport where we'll stay with Steph as she's at uni there. Then we'll go to Bristol and get a flight up to Edinburgh where we'll stay with either my uncle Paul or Stuart (I've not asked either of them yet. ) After that it's to Newcastle where we're gonna stay with Ash's mate Rory. Then onto Hull where Ash's mummy lives. And finally to Coventry to stay with my lovely friend Fran at her uni. Then back to Maldon. It's very exciting. We worked out roughly how we'd do it and how much it'd cost and it's not very much at all. All doable. But yes those are two plans. Two of many but they will happen!

Anyway. I have rambled on enough. I shall write another one shortly. I need to get back into the habit of doing it. I like writing. But yes. Take it easy and I'll leave you with these sage words.

I just like an apple in the night.

Well what could I say to that? It was true. Every blind word. I opened my mouth as if to say something clever in retort but the words didn't come out. Instead only the strange, drawn out sound of my vocal chords grating. This made me even more self aware than I was. I closed my mouth. Then it came to me. The perfect comeback. I stared at her for a moment whilst I collected the words into a tidy order. You see it is possible to think before you speak. Although she did seem to be looking at me with a scowl. Is there a time limit on the perfect comeback? Because if there is I'm pretty sure I've missed my stop and am currently lost in Aberdeen. Maybe I'll just get on with it.
"Yeah, well," I started. I'm pretty sure the perfect comeback wouldn't start with 'yeah well' but it was out there now, "if I followed them to Canada I could probably find at least one person who'd play chess with me."
Whoa, whoa wait......that wasn't what I was thinking. What did you say that for? She looked even more blankly at me. And then it came to me. I knew what she should do.
"Read James' blog!"
She now had a slight tilt going on with her unusually large head.
"What?!" she inquired.
"Read it! If there's one thing I know then it's that man can hold the answers to your..." Hang on. What did she ask me? "...THE SPICE GIRLS!!"
She stared at me in disbelief. Then she walked off...still holding my mars bar. I wept.

BLOG! Hello!! Why this is pleasant isn't it?! I haven't writtered one for donkey's yonks!! How are you? No, no don't tell me I'll guess. You feel.....fiiiine. You have been better but also worse? You wrestled a monkey, won and are now feeling invincible? Would like a sausage but are scared to ask? No country for old men? Am I close? Thought so. Ya see, I'm good with people. I'm a people peoples. I can't help it. It's the way I was born. Anyway...enough of this incoherent babbling. Let's try some slightly more coherent babbling.

Now! What's new with me, I hear you chuckle heartily? Well I shall tell you dear blogger. Blogsy. Blogsy Malone. "We could have been anything that we wanted to be. Yes that decision was ours. It's been decided....." Hang on...I said slightly coherent. But anyway. Things sure have changed here on Walton Mountain. I mean...how would you feel if I told you I probably wasn't staying in Wales much longer? Eh? Eh? Bombshell, eh? Or...perhaps inevitable as some of you may see it. But still. Read on and I shall fill you in. Firstly I no longer work at Yes Loans. "A-loan again...naturally." Stop it!! No I decided to pack it in. Obviously I gave them what for beforehand. I wasn't gonna let that slide. They are bullying poor, innocent....stupid people into debt. So that was it. The final straw. I was gonna tell Ellie exactly what I thought and then walk out. So I waited....until the end of the day. I marched up to Ellie with fire in my heart. Handed her my time sheet. Growled (inwardly) and said "there ya go. Horrible night isn't it? And I've gotta walk back to Newport in that! See you tomorrow." And with that I turned and left. My work there was done. There was nothing more I could have said. I'd done my bit to making this country a better place. What can I say? I'm not a man you'd want to get on the wrong side of. Then after that I just rang up ill all week and then left it there. To be fair I did tell her what I thought...was a horrible night. But anyway so that sorry chapter of my life is done. Started a few more sorry ones in it's wake but still. For every sorry chapter there's a good 'un...I think. In fact, my book's pretty shit. I mean obviously it's better than say...Harry Potter. *Gets pelted with 16 rotten tomatoes at once*

So how does this lead into the collapse of the Welsh Dream? Well I shall tell you, Blogsy, as you asked so nicely! In all honesty...I have no life here. No friends, no money. It's just...well I've not made the best of it. And going back to Maldon in recent weeks has made me realise I've got friends there. I've got my lovely family and probably a chance at doing something with my life. I know this probably sounds a bit bonkers. Especially if you live in Maldon. Or have read my blogs from before I moved down. But it does seem like I was too hasty in moving down. I did my usual thing of not thinking too much beforehand. So now it's time to think. So hide the cutlery, put the dog in it's basket, lace your shoes....James has a plan! Well sort of. I'm going to see if I can put my flat on the exchange list for a place in Essex. So yes. He is returning. Wales has been great in so many ways. Having my independence (well sort of) has been fabulous. But at the end of the day when I stopped and asked myself "what are you doing here that you couldn't be doing in Essex but with friends and family around you?" I didn't have an answer. I just punched myself on the arm and shouted the word "Cunt!" But still.

So yes. There is not much else to say this time. I shall update you on any further developments (you know I won't! Well...maybe a couple of months after they've happened.) But yeah...just when you thought you'd seen the back of me. Like I said can't think of much else to say....not that this usually stops me from rabbiting on like a...rabbit. Hang on...rabbits don't make any noise? Why is it rabbiting on? Poor rabbits. They the most peaceful creatures you could want to meet and they are attributed to talking like an imbecile...well sort of. Why is it rabbits? Why? WHY?!

Take care and don't make a molehill out of a mountain.

Shoes and socks please!

Love Me

Here's a video blog. It's a mess! But enjoy it. I'm writing one up in a few days. Huzzah!!

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