My life is still quite exciting

Random (though quite regular) bit of self accusation: My laziness knows no bounds.

Puzzling corollary thereof: Which implies it may have been actively testing for some. Perhaps, even, exploring.

Conclusion: There's a contradiction there somewhere.

Hmm...


UPDATE: Ah, of course! Mystery solved. It simply hasn't bothered to move far enough to find any.

Which is a relief - for a second or two, I thought my laziness might actually be more active than I am. My procrastination, on the other hand...

Yes, my life is incredibly exciting

I'm in a (partly cold induced) bad mood. I'm quite enjoying it. I mean, sometimes it's nice just to wallow in a bad mood. Getting in touch with your inner misanthrope is how I like to think of it. The only problem is sooner or later I'm going to have to leave the room, either to get a drink or go to the loo. Or, if I suffer some kind of fit of efficient time management, perhaps both on the same trip*.

Now, I generally have no objection to leaving the room. However, such a manoeuvre always entails the risk of 'people'. They get everywhere, I find. And sometimes I just want to avoid them. I mean, how are you supposed to maintain a mood of idle self-indulgence, when you have to indulge others, by saying 'Hello', or even smiling. Or worse, engaging in conversation. Oh, and most ruinous of all there's the risk of being 'cheered up'. Not even forcibly, sometimes it just happens. Quite unexpectedly, despite all reasonable resistance. Like death. Or, for that matter, life, I suppose.

Hmph.

So, what to do?

Well, I guess, sooner or later, that decision will be taken from me. So, that's some consolation, I suppose - at least I'll be saved decision making :)

Or should that smiley have been the other way up? I can't decide.

[Sighs] It's hard being me**.


*No, not like that. That would be disgusting. Though quite good for the immune system, apparently.

**OK, clearly it's not. But, hey, I did say I was in a bad mood - groundless self-pity's half the fun of it.


UPDATE: Apparently, Patroclus was also feeling moody earlier. Two people probably doesn't count as a meme, does it?

Abandoned burblings

I was writing something for bloc on the theme of escape last night, until 5:30am. It still wasn't any good. I also stepped on a slug, whilst barefooted, for the second night in a row (not the same slug). That wasn't any good either. Yeuch. Anyway, for reasons I can't be bothered to explain, the story (such as it was) ended up containing a couple of burblings that might loosely be described as poetry. So, rather than waste all that effort completely, I'm putting them here:

Burbling No. 1

Assault
(Battery not included)
Nonetheless, ouch

Burbling No. 2

Why not be a butler?
(Serving suggestion only)

A buffet of innuendoes
(Serving only suggestions)

A pretty woman, by men
(Served only with suggestion)

What exactly is a butle?
(Just a question)


Right, back to the drawing board. Well, a blank Word Document anyway...


[Sighs]

Testing Times (A Sign Thereof)

Just wanted to confirm that, assessments and such at uni having ended for a few months, the near relentless stream of semi-regular drivel that is this blog has now resumed. Until my next bout of chronic laziness and time mismanagement, probably. But still.

As for the photo, a number of these went up around Falmouth about a month ago. No idea exactly what they're being tested for. But I think it's fairly safe to say of this one that, yep, it definitely is a sign*. I'm almost certain of it.


*To be fair, though, I think they figured that out eventually themselves**, seeing as the testing seems to have stopped now.

**Whoever was testing them, not the signs. This isn't LA Story. Believe me. I stood there for nearly an hour*** and it didn't once give me cryptic romantic advice.

***If you round up to the nearest fifty minutes.

Ha ha! Made you look!


Sorry. Couldn't resist.

There's no smoke without a story

There's a pub about a minute from where I live; 30 seconds away, if you could walk directly to it. Almost on my doorstep, really, I suppose. It's been all boarded up since... well, judging by a sign just up the road still inviting any passing time-travellers to watch World Cup 2006 there, probably sometime last summer.

I mention this pub for two reasons, the second of which will become clear. The first is that the place has always amused me. Like I said, it's been all boarded up since before I got here - not amusing in itself - what is amusing, though, is that if you happen to walk past it you'll also see written on a chalkboard outside (just about visible on the photo below, if you click on it) the words "Happy 18th Birthday Ross." I always wanted to take a photo and add the caption: Must have been a hell of a party.



Recently, the pub went up in flames (you can watch a video here). There was a fire engine, of course, plenty of smoke (blowing in the direction of my house), a small crowd - in other words, general noise and conspicuousness. More or less on my doorstep.

Not only was I not first on the scene, pen and reporter's pad in hand, I singularly failed to notice it had even happened. Well, not until a familiar building on the front of a local paper caught my eye a few days later.

So, erm, yep, local journalism. Probably not the ideal career for me...

Which is nice :)

My typically in-depth analysis of the French election results

Sarkozy.

Does anyone else immediately think of some kind of knitted cover for sarcastic comments?

(the pic is linky)

No?

Oh well.

Err, OK, it seems you've just highlighted an empty line...

Hi, I suppose.

Strange empty-line-highlighting type person.

Er, wait, bugger - I can't say that now, can I? Now I've added that invisiblogging tag, empty-line-highlighting probably isn't such a strange thing to do. Well, not unless you hadn't figured out what that meant, of course. In which case, I reiterate: Weirdo.

Erm, anyway, there were other meanderings here earlier. Now there aren't. Although, I suppose, relative to the previous meanderings, these could also be called "other meanderings". But that would just be confusing. And irrelevant, because the other other meanderings don't exist anymore. Which is probably best for all of us. They only complicated things. Not like these meanderings at all.

So, yes, this invisiblogging thing. Basically, I just figure it could be fun. Less so if no-one notices, though; hence the tag, the existence of which rendered those other other meanderings confusing. Hence their removal. And their replacement with these clearly far less confusing meanderings.

Er, right, anyhow:

Watch this space :)

And all the other ones...

I'm still kind of busy

As this blog purports to occasionally have something or other to do with writing, and because inexcusably his death has hitherto gone unmentioned here; today, instead of my hopeless nonsense, why not go read something Mr Kurt Vonnegut had to say on the subject:

How to Write With Style.

In fact, the man had many wise things to say* (apart from that thing about semi-colons), and not just on writing. But the one I always remember was actually something his uncle told him to say:

My uncle Alex Vonnegut, a Harvard-educated life insurance salesman who lived at 5033 North Pennsylvania Street, taught me something very important. He said that when things were really going well we should be sure to notice it.

He was talking about the simple occasions, not great victories: maybe drinking lemonade on a hot afternoon in the shade, or smelling the aroma of a nearby bakery, or fishing and not caring if we catch anything or not, or hearing somebody all alone playing a piano really well in the house next door.

Uncle Alex urged me to say this out loud during such epiphanies: "If this isn't nice, what is?”

Timequake, 1997

Yep, I know, I'm a terrible cynic, so what am I doing quoting something like that? Well, precisely because I am a terrible cynic - I'd be a much better one, if it wasn't for that passage. And if that isn't nice, I don't know what is.

R.I.P. KURT VONNEGUT

So it goes.

*on this occasion, after a short burst of rural angst from some old episode of The Archers.

Hmm...

...I don't seem to have posted here for a while.



Right, well, that's that sorted, then.

Woo hoo!

My Resnick breakdown is over! Erm, done.

Well, one of the two. I'm no longer sure which.


[Sighs] Now I just have to script four of the 32 deathly dull scenes I've come up with before 1pm tomorrow. Oh, and prepare some questions to ask some nice person I'm interviewing at 4:30pm. Then write an Industry Analysis by about 12:45pm Friday. And then there's a samba drumming rehearsal. And the drumming gig at 9pm-ish. And...

Bugger.

Still, people say it's nice to have a full life.



SMALL PRINT: Yeah, yeah, I know... self-inflicted... blah, blah. Never let the truth get in the way of a good whinge, though, that's what I always say.

EVEN SMALLER PRINT: Wait, no I don't. I never say that. Oh well. Never let the truth... No, I'll only want to contradict myself again. And this is the smallest print blogger will do. Which is probably a good thing. I could go on like this for hours. Not that anyone would be able to read it. Or want to. Just like my Resnick scenes, probably. Not that I'll be writing them in small print. But maybe I should. Then no-one would want to read them. And if no-one wanted to read them, I wouldn't have to write them. Woo hoo!

[Sighs] Wait, there was a flaw in that logic, wasn't there? Bugger.

Resnick avoidance (a slight return)

There are blonde people in the living room.

I'm not sure who they belong to.

Don't get me wrong, I have no real objection to them being there, it would just be nice to know when these things are going to happen. If only so I know whose head it is I'm clonking my door against when I go to brush my teeth at 3am. Anyway, the head in question seems to be fast asleep this morning, and now on the sofa, so I suppose it's probably ok.

Or unconscious.

But probably ok.





[Sighs] When do I get to live on my own again?