Category: old blogging

now I’m really worried.
Sometimes I really wish I said nothing, thought nothing and was generally invisible.
I care too much.

In news tonight:
a: I’m worried. Something is up. I hope it isn’t me.
b: beer tonight with the delightful Tam, the blue-shirted Matt, Dom, James, Sacha, Ian, Bora, Chris and Karen. Must update the “about” page to reflect additions/changes to the cast.
c: trouble at Woodies tonight. Thankfully I was in the Nags (sorry Paul, but you could tell there was some shit about to go down in Woodies, so left the gig and headed for a quiet beer). I don’t think it was anything major, but as usual the Chichester police over-reacted and five police cars turned up and two ambulances. Meanwhile, all was serenity in the Nags.

further to my comment below about not having words to describe that book, I sometimes really get frustrated by not being able to express my thoughts in the way I want. It’s not that I don’t have the vocabulary – I’m actually pretty proud of my wordage – but I’m just not adept at using those words effectively. I tend to use a lot of visual cues to get my message across – if you ever see me talking, especially if it is a subject about which I am passionate, I start gesticulating – a lot. So much so that I’ve been warned that I might take off one day and fly away. In fact, I was asked once, by my oh-so-funny friends, to try and talk whilst sitting on my hands. Needless to say, I couldn’t.

I am not a fast reader. I’m not one of those people who can scan a page/screen of text and ingest the meaning. I have to read each word carefully, sometimes seeking inferences that perhaps are not there to be found.
So when I read a whole novel in a day and a half, you know that it must be something special to take my attention and hold it for so long.
This morning I finished reading As She Climbed Across The Table by Jonathan Lethem. I haven’t been so gripped by writing in years. This is an utterly fantastic book, one of the very best I have ever read. It features not only an interesting and gripping plot, but also cleverly worked insights into the workings of the mind, into relationships, desire, love, infatuation. You can not help but turn each and every page in succession, until you reach the end. Like Lack, the centre of the story, the book absorbs you totally and utterly.
This is one of the most fantastic books I have ever read. My words are totally inadequate to describe it and the feelings it creates. All I can suggest is that you go and buy it. Now.

I’m struggling with today’s word: I’m not sure that I’ve done anything in a furtive manner for a good while, other than maybe steal the odd furtive glance at things and people. I’m generally not a furtive person, mainly because I’m simply too obvious about just about every aspect of life. And you wouldn’t believe the problems that can cause.

Chichester, Easter Sunday, 9:15am….
a souped-up purple Ford Transit van with twin chrome exhausts, tinted glass and orange-flame on purple paint job, bearing the moniker “Vanimal” (I kid you not), roars past the bus stop bearing stickers promoting the “Mayday Monopoly” protests. The cathedral bells toll their beautiful irrelevance out across an otherwise deserted city, as I plod my way down South Street towards the railway station. An alcohol induced buzz whirls around my synapses, accompanied by memories and thoughts of the night before, words which might best have been left unsaid. But then again, who knows?
My head is too full. I need an outlet. And I need more than that. I need contact. Friends are brilliant, but sometimes they are not enough. Sometimes I need that soul, that understanding, that insight. And sometimes the deserted city brings out those feelings in me. It did last night as I walked home from the bar, and it did again this morning as I walked to work.

rules of blogging: 14a: never blog after you have been to the pub and drunk three pints of Staropramen, two vodka red bulls (no ice) and two butterscotch schnapps.
but rules were made to be broken.
a fine night in the company of Paul F, the ever-wonderful Tam and the ever-black-sweatered Matt. Later we saw Paul C, Stein, Tanya and Kearn as well as guest appearances by DJ, Tina, Marc W, Lynne, Arron and a host of household names.
and yet, in spite of this, something is missing tonight. So I guess it is time to go and rest my head on the pillow, and let unconsciousness drown those thoughts. Until tomorrow at least. Sleep well, dear reader.

My new PC at home lacks anything exciting on the desktop. If anyone has a really alternative image, perhaps something design oriented, that would make fabulous wallpaper, please send it.

bizarre moment of the day: sitting here just now, I heard the letter box rattle. Excitedly anticipating some sort of letter or note through the door, I ran to the doormat to find….half a sandwich. Opened the door – nobody in sight. Figure that out.

You will probably have noticed that I’m not a great sports fan. I enjoy cricket and follow test matches avidly (Test Match Special is one of the best sports programmes going, mainly because they spend most of the time talking about anything other than cricket) and watch the motor racing (unfashionably, I think that Michael Schumacher actually is the best driver – it isn’t cool to say that – a bit like saying that you support Manchester United really). But football leaves me mostly cold. However, I’ve long followed the fortunes of Brighton and Hove Albion, and today the won promotion to Division Two – hurrah! Seeeeaaaaaguuuullls! Seeeeeeaaaaguuuulllls!!!