Welcome to the first blog of 2008. Actually, rather than being in celebration of the new year, I'm writing to commemorate moving lappy to a new desktop home. Although there was a certain degree of....convenience....in it being near to my bed, late night surfing wrapped in a duvet being top of the list, the hunched posture was hurting muh poor tumtum. So this morning lappy was shifted with much fanfare and hullaballoo, not to mention sotto voce cursing of the power cable socket.

The big news of the year so far then is that lappy has a new perch, second biggest news, I'm quitting smoking. This time I think, I made the decision uninfluenced, so far, I haven't smoked for 5 full days. On my first quitting day, I had a telephone call induced lapse in willpower, but since then, I am clean. The temptations lessen daily, I am less irritable than I was the first 2 days. I hope I succeed, I really do.

I suppose other things have happened too, but if I gave a shit about you knowing I woulda told you already, so I guess, none of that stuff matters much here. I could condense it...hmmm...let's see now... gotajobquitajobhadabumpgotaninterviewgotafonecall
*breathes* wentbacktojobgotreallypissyquitwentbacktalkedwaytoomuchtopeoplewantingmoney
startedwritingagainquitthejobforgooddidn'tgetthetattooshopjob
sawthedocquitthesmokesgotshownthetruthwaitedwaitedwaitedforareferral. Stopped giving a shit. Nothing much happens really...which brings me to why I stopped giving a shit.

I stopped cos if I don't I might as well curl up and die....I have to let the rough chop break around me, nothing very much good happens on a daily basis, so I have to learn to be happy with the crapness. There's like maybe 4 people in the world who to varying degrees provide a chink of sunlight in the pervading grey...cheers fer that...otherwise, I am not gonna blog again unless I can find something nice to say. Watch this space for an announcement that the Packers won the superbowl.....pleeeeeeeeease big guy....you owe me that!

Ya know what I think, I think work should be enjoyable. I mean, you spend an inordinate amount of time there right, you shouldn't hate it, it shouldn't drive you to the depths of mental despair and physical breakdown. That's why I quit in the first place, because I didn't want to be miserable.

So why the fuck am I taking a job (pending satisfactory references of course) that I know I will hate, because already, it is making me feel that trembly helplessness of entrapment. I am looking towards Monday with a certain amount of genuine fear. I don't think I can do it, don't think I can maintain the pretense. I honestly am scared for my sanity. And it's not just because it's a kitchen job.

See let me explain. As far as cooking jobs go, this is a low stress one, cooking for old people in a nursing home. I know I am more than capable of providing them with a tasty and nourishing repast twice a day, of keeping the little kitchen in order. I am even, just a little bit, excited about trying out some new recipes (TYVM crym) because they want me to do afternoon teas. Guess that little cakes and nice desserts will bring a tiny ray of light into the unchanging routine of the residents lives. Still somehow the thought of spending days in my whites again, makes me feel physically sick, the smells and the sounds, the burned hands, the pressure of striving for perfection...I don't want it. And more...this is a home for old and ill people, some are bed-ridden, some can barely walk. All of them shuffle through their day in greyness, no smiles, no inner light, they are....sad. And I don't know, that I can face that, that most of all makes me almost choke.

I don't know why it pains me, perhaps it's the proximity to death, or fear of ever being that way, or maybe it's fear of those I love ending up like that. Seeing it everyday, I don't know that I can do it. I don't know that I can stand them dying. I know I wont be close to them but, every time there is one less meal to cook, it's because someone passed away. Some people can deal with that, maybe they can console themseves knowing they helped them through their last days or maybe they are cold and detached...I don't know. But I know me, and I know....I can't stand that for very long.

I applied for the job in desperation, knowing I had an excellent chance of being the best candidate, I don't think I was feeling like another rejection, or worse, just being ignored. I've taken a huge pay cut, not that money matters really but still, in a way it feels like a backward step. It is a backward step.

I'm trying hard to tell myself, this is a stepping stone to better things, suck it up fucktard....blah...

One day...it'll all be ok...and a distant fading nightmare.....yeah...

I had reason today to look at myself and think about my faults. It took a while to go though them all and then pick out the ones that were as impersonal as possible to mention on a message board (that's one of my faults see...not message board posting, that's just a nerdism...I mean the being not open aye). I have shitloads of faults, I'm moody and messy, immature and impatient with stupid people, hell I call people stupid - that's not nice, I swear a lot, disguise my feelings with humour, I procrastinate, I hate for anyone to fuck up my routines, I'm antisocial, I'm argumentative, I can be dismissive of people who make a bad first impression, I'm not very forgiving, I hate cherries in cake, I'm a perfectionist, I'm often unreasonable for the simple pleasure of being arsy and OMG I almost can't stop.

See, if I'm not careful, I could really hate myself, which I suppose for a very long time was my biggest fault. Now I can see there are good things about me too, which, it might be surprising but it's true, sometimes even tip the scales a bit and outweigh the bad things. A lot of things I might, even quite recently, have said were my worst faults are becoming less pronounced....I think I'm better these days at being a person.

It's been very tempting in the endless parade of jobless months to allow myself to slip below the surface of despair and just give in. I think once or twice I almost did. I have had way waaaaay too much time to dwell on negative things, to apportion them brain time far in excess of what they actually need. But then, I suppose I saw the light, or maybe someone flipped a switch and made me rummage around in the attic of my psyche and spend a little while pulling dusty old relics of a long ago simpler me out of the toy box in the corner that was buried under a musty, threadbare old rug. I found some cool stuff in there, old Bowie albums on vinyl, a birdcage (why is there always a birdcage?), stuff I had forgotten completely, other stuff I had vaguely remembered and yearned for in an abstract, uncomprehending way - things like the way once so long ago we could find joy and excitement and wonder in everything the world had to offer or could trust unquestioningly. That adults need to have a "healthy dose of mistrust" seems to me to be one of the saddest parts of growing up...that there are people who would hurt us so much that we must not, dare not put blind faith in others is the saddest thing about the human race.

So I guess maybe I had a point but I forget now what it might have been....what I think I am saying is that, I am learning slowly one day at a time, to unpick the stitches of my life a bit, cos I did it hurriedly and drunkenly and without enough concern for myself or my future. It's a slow process, cos some of it worked out alright, certain bits of wonky hemming are kinda cool and set you apart...you see that's the early 90's grunge scene influence...You can't plan everything like a sewing pattern, but you can take a bit more care with yourself and others too, cos their patterns are essential to yours, something else I allowed myself to forget for a long time.

Geesh, I got a bit rambleicious...ya know...this year is almost over, and despite some really heinous and shitty things, I'm thinking it's been one of the most important years of my life, in terms of learning. My Gramps reminded me this week that you never stop learning, even at 81, and I am so fucking thankful he is still here to teach me that. Other good stuff has happened too, not just in my life but in the lives of people I care about....and the good things have been lessons too.

Maybe I am overthinking this in an effort to understand. Incidentally, that's something most people consider to be a fault, and it's a fault a lot of people seem to have. I don't think it's a fault unless it becomes a barrier to decision making. If the thinking part takes over and eclipses the reason you were thinking in the first place. I've always believed it's very important to know yourself, to understand your motivations and feelings and stuff. That never used to be much fun for me, I'm a negative sort of person, but I guess a found a bright shiny happy place. It's cool aye.

I have to do the British thing today, gotta talk about the weather. I think, and I don't want to be rash here, but I'm fairly certain, it's finally arrived, the onset of Winter. I like Winter, honestly, it's in my top four seasons. Even the blustery dampness of a North Wales in December appeals to me.

I felt compelled to write, because as I looked out of my bedroom window, I witnessed the spectacle of a russet torrent of wind whipped leaves, like huge mucky snowflakes spinning in an Aeolian stream.

As we live nestled in the embrace of several hundred soon to be nekkie trees it's impossible to avoid the deep drifts of their discarded summer wardrobe. Literally everything is blanketed by the multi hued foliage, even the river chuckles across the rocks muffled beneath a patchwork quilt.

For me, it's cool. I have retained my love of kick-walking my way through leaves in the same way I still love to splash in puddles and slide down snowy hillsides on a heavy duty binliner. Even when I follow the crowd and join in a complaining pow wow about the constant driving wind or the endless procession of sunless days, in my secret heart I am thinking of how much fun it is to walk along the prom in a gale and fight a private battle against the howling hoards of the Gods of Wind, and try not to get knocked over. I'm still winning incidentally =0)

Every season has it's own beauty, it's just that in Winter maybe you have to look a little harder to find it. Here we don't have those cliche frozen landscapes, singular sparkling moments as the sun gleams on ice sheathed trees starkly silhouetted against untouched swathes of whiteness, where the sky and the ground are almost indistinguishable from each other. But we do have the rough chop of a blue grey sea, arcing cascades of foam as the waves crash against the cliffs. We have dark, distant peaks wreathed in fog that creeps in writhing tendrils around hidden lakes made black by their depth and the reflection of towering rainclouds. We have freezing cloudless nights when it seems the whole universe is on show in the scattered multitude of pinprick lights.

Yeah, I love Winter, I'm glad in a way that it finally decided to put in an appearance.

Do you ever wish you could stop yourself from being you for just one minute and step outside and just do whatever the hell you really want to? Or say what you want to say without first considering the myriad consequences? Do you ever wonder why you erected such an effectively impenetrable fortress around youself and then question why people don't seem to understand you? Do you ever wonder how nice it must be to try and sleep without a billion disjointed memories and thoughts and perceptions and wonderings and fears and hopes and whatever the fuck else running pell mell through your head in spark kicking clogs that clatter around and leave you wide eyed and glassy as you stare blankly at nothing at all? Do you ever sit and look at yourself from the outside and mourn for the person you know you should have been but were too stupid to ever let breathe? Do you ever wonder why saying these things might feel like an incredibly misguided act, and further ponder that thinking it's misguided is part of the problem? I hate 6.36am on freezing Wednesday mornings.

Shit, I'm sorry I let you down.

It's late, my eyes hurt a lil teeny bit....so the last thing I need as I inadvertantly brush against the mouse pad is a rapidly spinning circle of mixed fruit, led by an oddly red tinted pineapple that stands at the center of the dancing band and apparently directs the proceedings. What fucking turdmunching advertising asswipe decided that was a good idea?? Just imagine what something like that could do to someone on an acid trip...*sigh* fucking banner ads.

Note: Internet Explorer is a fucking cunt and should burn in hell forever for making me type all this again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK so...one more time: My Mum bought me this book, Potty Fartwell and Knob, Extraordinary But True Names Of British People, written by Russell Ash. All the names are fully researched and are from parish records, censuses, and birth/death/marriage registers dating back as far as the 12th century. I thought I would share the Fanny chapter with you, because I almost had a cardiac incident reading it to Luce and Katt the other night.

*Note for those unschooled in British slang - "fanny" means "ladybits"

Fanny Affection - Fanny Box - Fanny B. Bythesea - Loveday Fanny Cocks - Fanny Coil - Fanny Crease - Fanny Crotch - Fanny Bollock Cullis - Fanny Eighteen - Fanny Fanny - Quadruna Fanny Fewster - Fanny Fidget - Fanny Flick - Fanny Flow - Fanny Funk - Fanny Funt - Fanny Gash - Fortunate Fanny Hinder - Fannys Hole (yep, the S is supposed to be there) - Fanny Honey - Fanny Humpage - Fanny Ing - Fanny Lather - Fanny Lingo - Fanny Lips - Fanny Lover - Fanny Lust - Fanny Alotta Mould - Fanny Organ - Fanny Jane Penis - Fanny Plenty - Fanny Pounder - Fanny Pussephette - Fanny Pussey - Nine Fanny Rogers - Many Fanny Salisbury - Fanny Pink Simons - Fanny Spong - Pubete Fanny Steel - Fanny Strain - Fanny Tingle - Fanny Warmer - Fanny Warning - Fanny Washer - Fanny Wonder

Just a few of the glorious names people have tortured their children with through the ages....

www.headline.co.uk  are the publishers of this book

I miss apricots.

How d'ya like my new look blog? I'm rather fond of it myself....

Sooooooo, newsworthy stuff? Not really, although I may have a little bit of a job. This is partly good, but largely bad, because it is a cheffing job. I don't think I want to say any more about it, lest I jinx it. And because it's a bloody flippin bugger that I had to go back to it LOL.

Just found out I am alone here in a couple of weeks....I don't like being out here alone to be honest. Even though I know my imagination is the cause of the little noises and the author of the fluttery unease, it's still quite unpleasant. It's just so dark and isolated, and frankly way too much like the location of bloodthirsty films with titles like Lone Person Slain In The Woods III and Body In The Undergrowth 2 - It's Headless This Time.  I know, I know, I have my lil hatchet to hand (no, really) and the doors will be bolted, but since when was a sadistic, beyond the grave mental ever deterred by security measures and pissant wood choppers? Maybe I should endeavour to not be here that night....

So, my comp is being particularly evil, and hating me writing this blog....I am going to persevere for another minute, then play frisbee with the fucking thing....I'd like to know if it will float....

Amazing...the the threat of impending flight has persuaded it to play nicely...no it hasn't! Little fucker! Ahh...that's better...

Now that it's working, I have run out of things to say...fucking sod's law.

Really, I ought to go back to penning a tapas menu...but...my motivation has briefly melted away. Hmmmm, neverending movie quiz mayhap...

Toodles! =0)

Stumbled upon the blog of one Mr Chris Crocker. *chuckles* Seems he sparks healthy debate along clearly established lines of contention ie "I hate Gays" vs "You're such an uneducated git for hating Gays". There is much bitching in his blog comments, and it made me laugh. He may be a bit of a twat with a propensity for histrionics out of proportion to the issue at hand, but kudos to him for being funny, even if he doesn't mean to be. He wanted fame and notoriety, he achieved his goal, more power to the little fucker I say. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyhoooooo.

Mr Crocker lists his occupation as Professional Enlightener/Preacher. Wow. I had never previously considered the benefits of just creating your own job description. Here's me, stressing over my unemployed status, when I could have been creating for myself a niche in my own profession. So to that end, from now on, I am:

Sub Vice President in Charge of Production (UK) - Equine Waste Division; Seconded to the Office of the Chairman (Executive Branch) International Board of Muppetry.

The pay sucks, but who can argue with working from home and permanant holiday status?? =0)