Wednesday, April 14
Even More Things That Have Happened In The Fairly Recent Past. AKA Catching Up Part 94.
I recall reaching the night of Saturday 3rd April in my last post, so it makes sense to start this post with the events of Sunday 4th April. Mmmm, chronological completeness.
Sunday, 4th April
The day of nationwide fame. Well, the day that the article was published in the Observer, at least. I've said my bit on that article elsewhere, so I'm not going to bother saying any more on that subject. I don't have the exact link to hand, but I seem to remember writing about it on the 5th April, so go have a gander at that week in the archives.
Other than my Mum's face tripping up all day, Sunday was a very uneventful and lazy day. I watched a ridiculous amount of sport on TV (Grand Prix, football, more football, Super League, tennis and probably a lot more) and basically lounged around for a bit. My life is so very, very exciting, you understand?
The highlight for me was discovering a new magazine. Yes, that really was the highlight of the entire day. I was very, very bored in the evening, and I couldn't get onto the computer because someone else was using it, so I popped up the shop to get a random magazine to read. Usually I'd buy something like FHM or Maxim, but for some reason I picked up DVD Review this time. I guess it's because I'd seen so many films in the past 2 months, and I'd expanded my DVD collection by a large amount.
What a great magazine!! It had the unfortunate effect of making me want to buy about 50 DVDs that instant, but it also gave me the idea of signing up to a DVD rental website, which I have subsequently done. It's very cool to get DVDs through the post most days, except for the fact that the first couple that have come through have been the least wanted ones on my list. Never mind.
I also discovered The Royal Tenenbaums on one of the Sky Movie channels later that night, which was very handy. I hadn't seen it before, but I'd heard good things about it. It turns out that it was indeed a very good film, quite funny and so very dark. I'd meant to see it sometime before, but had just never got round to it. You know how it is.
Monday, 5th April
Another fairly quite day, with some posting here, lots of TV and a random phone call from one of my old friends in Melksham, seeing if I wanted to go to the pub with him and another mate of ours for a quiet drink or two that evening.
I know this is making me sound like the alcoholic I claim not to be, but pubs are just social places to meet people and spend a few hours. It just so happens that they sell beer as well. Dammit, I'm really coming across as an alcoholic in denial, aren't I? Meh, it's not true. I hope.
It was cool to see Mark and Rich again, because I hadn't really spoken to them properly for nearly a year, and we used to be the closest of friends. Hell, I've known Rich since we were 4 years old. I have this nagging guilt inside me concerning how I've lost touch with some of my closest friends since I (and they) went to university.
I was part of a group of about 10 or 11 that did absolutely everything together. We all went to school together, and also to the Sixth Form at that school. We were our own little clique, and we had the best of times. But somehow, I lost touch after I moved to London and they went off to their campuses (campi?) elsewhere in the country. I don't think it was deliberate, it just happened that way. I blame myself for not contacting them, but I also remind myself that they haven't contacted me. There is however no ill-feeling between us, as far as I know. We've just drifted apart.
I find this a little hard to understand, considering just how close we were, but I guess people change, grow closer and grow apart. My major sticking point here is that I haven't found a group of friends in London that I feel similarly close to. Of course I have loads of friends (Mr Popular, ahem.) and people who I spend time with, but there isn't quite that group where I feel 100% comfortable ringing any of them up on any day of the week and chatting about this and that for whatever length of time.
There is of course one person who is replacing the entire group all by herself, and I'm sure you can determine just who that is. Hint: She is usually blessed with a capitalised name that isn't an actual name.
Anyway, that was a little piece of confession there, so let's move on quickly and not dwell on the matter for too long. I should really ring those friends at some point.
When I got back home, I was once again flicking through the Sky Movie channels when I noticed that a film called Ghost World was about to start. I'd heard of this film, and it had been a critical success if not exactly a hugely well-known film during its time in cinemas. It was a little indie movie with Scarlett Johansson, Thora Birch and Steve Buscemi in it, and I had been wanting to catch it for a long time.
I'm so very glad that I did sit down and watch it that night, because it was very, very good. It's an incredibly slow-moving story, with long, lingering cinematography throughout. It reminded me somewhat of Salinger's Catcher In The Rye, because it was just a small story about a small series of events in a person's (or in this case two people's) life, with no hinting towards their future(s), and only minor references to their past(s). It's just a small snapshot of a period in their life, with almost no reason to tell the story, but the story is being told nonetheless.
I could of course draw certain analogies with my own writing and story here, but I won't be so blunt, and nor will I be quite so egotistical as to compare my own poor quality srawlings with those of one of the best 20th century American authors in his best piece. If you want to make those connections, please feel free to do so...
Tuesday, 6th April
Has anyone else watched a TV show called "My Wife And Kids", starring Damon Wayans? You probably haven't, because you are intellectual and above all of that sort of thing, but my sister adores it. Unfortunately my being back at home in Melksham has coincided with both her being off school due to the Easter holidays, and also with the TV channel Trouble showing back-to-back episodes of My Wife And Kids all day every day.
My Dad usually comandeers the computer, and my sister somehow manages to gain control of the TV remote, leaving between a rock and a hard place. Do I sit through this excruciating TV programme in the vain hope that at some point there will be a laugh-out-loud moment (or at least a non-predictable joke), or do I go do something very boring such as listen to my CD player and read a book?
Seeing as the latter involves peeling my ass off of the armchair, I inevitably end up watching this stupid show. I swear on this Tuesday I had to sit through at least 4 episodes in a row, with barely a muffled laugh so much as passing my lips throughout. Stupid sit-coms aimed at teenagers, I'm above you now. I have outgrown you and no longer need to watch Saved By The Bell, USA High, and similarly inane American sitcoms filled with beautiful people to feel fulfilled.
Nope, I watch Hollyoaks.
That evening I got a text saying that everyone was invited round a mate's house to watch the Arsenal-Chelsea game that night. I figured we might as well get quite drunk (But I'm not an alcoholic, remember?!), so I popped down to the supermarket with Eddie. We bought beer (obviously), and I also decided to make another batch of vodka jelly, seeing as my last one was quite a success (in that it was very strong...). Unfortunately, it wasn't quite set by the time I left to go to Jy's, so I had to tell yet another mate to stop at my house on his way to Jy's a little later and pick the jelly up. Trivial information, I know, but quite amusing in illustrating the lengths we go to to have a few drinks.
The less said about the game the better, so I'm going to gloss over that one completely.
There was a really big group of people there, including a few mates who I hadn't seen in a little while. This group of friends is a different one from those above; these are my "mates", the drinking buddies who love two things: football and drinking. You can see why we get along so well.
Anyway, numerous beers went down, and it was a good laugh. The fun started a little later, when Powlo caned the majority of the vodka jellies and promptly fell asleep on one of the sofas. I'm talking drunken sleep, which is the deepest sleep ever.
Obviously, being the mischevious little devils that we are, we decided that taking a few chunks of his hair off of his head was a good idea. Cue a pair of scissors and a lot of chortling as huge chunks of Powlo's hair were deftly removed from his head. He ended up with a beauty of a bald patch on his crown, as well as most of one side having been removed (he was lying with his head on its side, meaning we could only trim one side of it...).
Powlo was staying the night there, but the rest of us weren't, so we all left him there, and left Jy to deal with him in the morning. I heard the next day that he had gone mad when he woke up, and gave Jy a right beating. Oh well, it's his own stupid fault for falling asleep after drinking too much!
Mental Note: Never fall asleep in their company ever again.
Oh, I almost forgot, I was on the phone to Girl for over an hour that evening. I'd been speaking to and texting her whilst I'd been at home that week, but this was the first time we'd had a decent length conversation. It probably helped matters that I'd had a couple of drinks, but what made it funny was that she was quite drunk too. Honestly, the things coming out of her mouth, it'd have made anyone blush. Bad Girl. At least it made me feel wanted.
We also made arrangements for her to come over to my place in London on the Friday evening, since we were both going to be back in London that day. I was really missing her, the first time I'd properly missed anyone before, so I looked forward to that day with keen anticipation.
And that about "sums up" Tuesday. This "note form" really isn't working too well, is it? I need to be more selective in my stories that I tell.
Wednesday, 7th April
With regards to the "note form", I won't bother mentioning my trip to the dentist, because I'm sure you wouldn't want to read about it. But, does anyone else find the taste of your own blood a little weird? Not that I've ever tasted anyone else's blood, it has to be said.
The main interesting thing that happened to me that day was the big argument that I had with my Mum about the Observer article, and more specifically this blog. I got back from the dentist, as I said, and was told that we "had to have a talk." There may be some amongst who were reading last summer, and will know that this "talk" actually means I get lectured at by her. Somehow I think "talk" is the wrong word.
She told me that she'd been in tears after reading the article (something I already knew thanks to my sister), because she thought that everyone would think that I was a "saddo" (exact word) who did nothing except pour his heart out to "a machine" all day every day. She told me that it wasn't good to be closed in the manner that I am, and that she always gets things off her chest straight away, rather than letting them fester. Funny, I could have sworn that she read the article on Sunday, has had her face tripping her up for 4 days and is now speaking to me about it on the Wednesday. Is that not, erm, bottling it up somewhat?
I should mention here that my Mum is a complete technophobe (bless her heart), and to her computers are the bane of all existence. They are "a tool" for work, and for doing things like booking flights (which she has done) and buying CDs, etc. They shouldn't be viewed (apparently) as things for entertainment, and certainly not for pouring your heart out into. I, of course, take completely the opposite view. Yes, they are very useful for work purposes, but the Internet contains everything you could ever want to do. It has entertainment value, educational value and a whole lot more besides.
I also tried to explain how I wasn't actually bottling things up and letting them fester, because I was getting them out of my system here. Admittedly, I didn't confront the people that were pissing me off directly some of the time, but at least I wasn't letting them bother me until I literally exploded and went off on one at them. Funnily enough, my Mum, who claims to be an open person) is always "exploding" and having a massive go at us for a series of small things that have built up over the preceding few days and weeks. Hypocrite? Well, I don't like to point out the obvious.
Finally, she told me that if I ever wrote anything denigrating about her or my Dad, they'd quite literally cut me off from them, including refusing to pay my rent on the place I live in at the moment. I was so very tempted to tell them to go read the posts I wrote in the summer of last year, when I went through a series of really bad times with them, but I managed to bite my tongue. She was already pissed off, and I could do without any more angst / repurcussions.
I don't think they read this at the moment, but so be it if they do. I'm sure I'll here within minutes of them reading this post with an angry phone call. Meh.
I spent the majority of the rest of the day in my room, reading Dracula (amazing book!) and listening to the few CDs I'd brought home with me on my headphones, since I didn't have a hi-fi which I could turn up really loud and piss my Mum off even more.
Girl texted me during the day, and I sent a message back saying that I was in a really bad mood, and not inclined to speak to anyone at that point in time. I don't think she minded too much, since I rang her later on that day (see below).
My Mum eventually came and spoke to me, apologising to a qualified extent. This conversation was a lot more civil, and I was able to explain calmly just what it is I do here. I compared myself to the millions of people who have kept written diaries since ages past, and asked if she saw what they did as wrong. Just because I happen to write it on "a machine", how is it any different? Agreed, it's different because it's in public, and anyone can read it, but it's not that much different. I only know a couple of people who read what I write here, the rest of you are anonymous to me.
Fine, if I provide you with an opportunity for Schadenfreude (thankyou, Okay...sorted), that's great. A five-minute fad, with "no take-away value", I don't mind that. I really don't write for my readers in the majority of cases. I write for me, it's (as I have said a thousand times before) like therapy for me, but a whole lot cheaper. I have my ups, I have my downs, you read about them. Empathise if you want, "identify with [my] experiences", read it however you want. I'm really not that fussed how you take what I write here.
Anyway, I'm a little bored of writing now, and I'm hungry, so that will be that for today. Until later, possibly, when I'll probably end up writing here again.
And hey, I'm only 7 days behind now! Bo.
Oh, and Kiwi, ever heard that theory that all-out macho behaviour is in fact a cover for a denial of homosexuality. Just a thought for you to "take-away".
PS. Do you look good in pink spandex, Kiwi? Just a thought to keep me warm on my long, lonely, "poof" nights...
