Not-so-extreme

Well what a turn up for the books, I'm still alive.

(And late with my post as usual, but I'm bored of saying sorry about that now so- damn.)

Yes, you'll all probably be glad to know the kite didn't cause my unfortunate and grisly (though probably locally newsworthy) death, and nor did it cause the untimely expiry of my friend Rich, which surprised me.

"Blimey, that's surprising" said I, when, after handing the controls (strings) to Rich, he managed to stay both upright and in contact with Terra firma at all times, "that's not supposed to happen" I said, after recovering from the surprise.

You see, I was kind of disappointed that the kite didn't send Rich hurtling off towards the nearest tree, cliff-face or 4 lane motorway, just to prove how brave and talented I was to fly it all the time. But it didn't, and although he admitted it was hard to hang on to, and it did manage to pull him a few feet in the air a few times, he reckons it was a huge amount of fun.

Fun?!

My 'extreme' sportsman facade is crumbling around my ears, these things aren't supposed to be fun, they are supposed to be EXTREME!

I might have to introduce some broken glass or live power lines into the equation, I can't be having this.


Oh yeah, and I didn't really want Rich to die, probably best I add that, for legal reasons.

Let's go fly a kite

I'm off in a minute to help a friend rebuild his car.
I do this partly out of a genuine interest in tinkering with greasy bits of metal, but mostly out of a sense of duty.

I did take the car apart for him in the first place and then convince him to spend several gazillion squid on shiny (soon to be greasy, keeps my interest up) new parts to put back in, so I feel like I really should help him get it running again.

That sounds like I am confident that it will ever run again.

I'm not, but don't tell him.

I'm also going to sling my power kite in the boot, and we may well go and fly it if we get bored of staring at bits of metal in various stages of the shiny/greasy metamorphosis and saying to each other "where the fuck does that go?"
I'm telling you this, because it is a 7.2 square metre kite, (think parachute but with longer strings) and it is only a matter of time before it is the chief cause of my gruesome and unfortunate death.
I've only ever flown it in light winds and I have been pulled a good 6 feet off the floor many times, and been dragged horizontally across the floor at shoe-burning speeds more often than I care to admit.

It looks like the breeze is picking up, it was nice knowing you all.

Customer Service

Me, "Hi there."

Yoof in the skate shop, "(Grunt.)"

"Erm, I'm after some wheels for my inline skates, I have an old pair of Majestic 12's and-"

"Yeah, they're well old" His expression could well be described as 'sneery' at this point.

"Yes, I know, thanks. So I was after some new wheels just so I can use them agai-"

"They were old even when I started skating" 'Sneerier'.

"Right, ok. So I've not skated for ages, I don't know which wheels I should be going fo-"

"anyfing really." Sell it, my friend.

"I'll mostly be doing park skating, so what size should I-"

"anyfing really." Go on, make that sale!

"Okayyy, could you recommend anything that would be half-decent?"

"anyfing really. There's these *Bobby Davro spin tastics* (Accuracy of brand names may vary), they're alright. Or the *ding dang doodle roly-polies*, they're alright. Or the-"

"Yes, I think I get it, i'll er, take those please."
I pointed randomly, ensuring a barely thought out purchase decision that I could have made on the internet by a series of random clicks, and probably saved some money at the same time.

Yoof rolls his eyes and sighs like the oppressed, over-burdened slave-worker that he obviously is. "I'll have to get the keys to open the cupboard."

"er, yes. ok."

Yoof sighs again, possibly hoping that this explanation of the great task I am asking of him will cause me to reconsider. I'm a nice person, but I need those wheels. Go get the keys, slave-boy.

After waiting for him to drag his carcass across the shop floor and back at *almost* trudging speed to get the keys, I am handed four wheels off the display shelf with no box. I think asking for a box may have been pushing it, the yoof was obviously under a lot of work related strain, and in all honesty I will only throw it in the bin anyway, i'll say I did it in the spirit of environmental awareness.

"Um, I'll need some bearings to go with these." Ooh, careful dandan, everyone has their breaking point.

Sigh, roll eyes, "there's these *spinny spin-spins*, they're alright. Ther-"

Ah, I see where this is going.

"Yes, I'll take those. Yes, that's fine."

"(Grunt.)"

At this point I was able to pay for my randomly chosen goods at a till staffed by someone who actually understood the basic principles of the retailer-customer relationship, this was a relief, I don't think I could have actually brought myself to hand real money the yoof.

I'm getting old aren't I?

Catch up

Hi.

Yeah, er sorry again. Every time I write on here I apologise for being so infrequent with my posts, I should really stop doing that.

Time for a blatantly plagiarised mantra:

Never Apologise and Never Explain Yourself.
(What I mean by that is you shouldn't feel the need to justify your actions, I didn't make that clear, sorry.)

Fact is, life is good, and contrary to what I would have thought six months ago, this is directly related to the fact that life is also very busy. (seriously, you could draw a graph and everything)
So I have less time to write, but more to write about, in theory. I'm still having trouble thinking up a single topic for each post to flex my wit muscle over though, but that may just be me being a bit woolly-headed.

I don't really want to just write "I did this, then I did that, then so-and-so did this which was hilarious and we all went here and got drunk, then end" as my life may be fun for me but it can't be that great to just read about my life, verbatim style.

I think it's time for some hilariously brief bullet points to sum up the last few days, just to keep everyone up to speed. Perhaps I can do this once a week or something in future...

*Got haircut. Ears are cold.

*Went to gymnastics again and damaged some muscles on the side of my ankles. Good to be back in my weekly injury pattern, I was getting worried for a while there.

*Had Birthday, got great presents from Rach, and a cheque from the parents, how thoughtful. (They will each be getting a cheque for half the value of my cheque on their respective birthdays, I bet they don't smile falsely and go 'ooh, thanks' like I did.)

*Got incredibly drunk on Friday, I'm getting quite good at it now, more practice still required I feel though.

*Had great indulgent weekend in general, spent it all with Rach which was awesome. (not even slightly humorous but very true)

*Played Frisbee for the first time this year, I love my Frisbee. Still not warm enough to avoid getting cold ears.

*Got a lead on a possible graphic design job at a place where a mate of mine works, I desperately want it. This is very good news.

*Bench pressed 70 kilos, more on this later.

There is more I'm sure but seeing as my brain shares many more common features with a badly rusted sieve than it does with, say, a filing cabinet, I am bound to miss a few minor things. Several major things too I dare say. It'll come to me, don't push it.

Ah yes, can I just take this moment to say lots of nice things about Rachel, because she really deserves it, more so than usual right now. (bitter hate-filled cynics may want to skip a paragraph.)
For my birthday, Rach is getting me something amazing and most probably expensive, which she hasn't sorted out yet, so she got me a couple of things on Friday so I had something to open. The amazing thing was, each item she bought was something that she remembered I particularly liked. Not just, 'oh yes, that's nice, thanks' (hi mum and dad) but properly 'wow, I love that!' she bought me, er 5 things, all of which were perfectly chosen for me.
I think that is brilliant.
I don't think I could think of 5 things I could buy that she really loved, I was so impressed with the effort and the thought involved, she really is incredible.
Not only that, but she mentioned some ideas for the 'big' present, and she wanted me to choose so she didn't get it wrong. Unsuprisingly, every idea she had turned out to be something I would love, so I told her she will have to choose something, and I know she will get it right.
I hope I can do as well on her birthday, blimey.
It doesn't stop there, she literally just called me to say she has changed plans tonight and is going to the pub with one of her ex-boyfriends instead of a mate. I don't mind this at all, (well, no more than any male would, we all have basic instincts after all) but she rang to tell me in case I found out from someone else and thought she was hiding it from me. Now that is thoughtful. It constantly amazes me when she proves just how much she cares for me, it's great! I love her a huge amount.

Welcome back bitter hate-filled cynics, time for a tale of personal triumph, go me.
At my new place of work, there is a weights bench sitting in the back yard.
Long story slightly short, I got challenged to bench press about 70 kilos after claiming I could do it, and lo and behold, I managed it! Comfortably!
I only weigh 10 stone (64 kilos) now and used to weigh nearly 2 stone more when I used to go to the gym, (2 years ago) I was really pleased! Seems the general high level of physical stuff that I do has kept me in good shape, even the muscles I don't specifically use.
That was self indulgent I know but I was really pleased.

I wonder if I could have lifted more if I hadn't had a Chinese, an Indian, two bottles of champagne, chocolate cake, toblerone, lots of beer and lots of J.D in the preceding 3 days, hmm.

So much else to write, I've still not given a lot of subjects their fair share of attention, but I'm sure this is enough blathering for one post. I'll try and get some more up this week.
Stay safe kids.

Me sporting my new hair with my friend Miaowcat.

I keep getting older

It was my birthday on Friday just gone, and damn if I didn't get a year older again, happens to me every time, it would be nice to get a year younger some time. It may be time to start lying about my age, I still look under 18 (even with a beard) so I'm sure everyone will beleive me...

So I'm 25 now, I can actually measure my existence in an appreciably large fraction of a century, that's kind of scary.
And people say life moves faster as you get older, bloody hell, it's moving fast enough as it is, this does not bode well.

I'm at work at the moment, and I've somehow found five minutes to write this, but I really can't concentrate properly (the amateur rapping you tube videos being played on the PC next to me may have a lot to do with it, argh) so I will post again today when I get home, promise.

I feel a Rachel based post has been a long time in coming so you may need to go find a suitable receptacle to vomit into, if you are easily soppied-out, sorry.

I'll be back (not like aArnie, I'm much less threatening)

I might...

Write a book.

Well, a novel, erm, a story, you know, fiction.

Please don't say 'ooh yes, do, as your blog is simply fab' (ok, you can say that if you like) because obviously it won't be anything like my blog, but I suppose it will carry my style along with it.

I thought I might post it on here, or perhaps make a new blog to post it on, kind of chapter by chapter or something. It would be a comedy fantasy type thing, think a pale shadow of Terry Pratchett meets a bad impersonation of Tom Holt, somthing like that only a bit worse.

I think I might you know. Even though I have absolutely no time in which to do it.

Looking forward to gymnastics already, and it's only monday, I fear this enthusiasm is but a precursor to some unwanted medical attention, probably of the spinal surgery variety. It goes like this: "hmm, gynmastics isn't until Thursday, I know, i'll practice that back somersault here, on this concrete floor instead, 'cos I just can't wait."

Still, the lay up in hospital may give me time to start my book....

I'm getting paid again!

So I obviously went and did the smart thing, and spent most of it at the weekend.

Go me.

I'm now officially in 'Saving' mode, most likely so that I can go live in Australia as soon as possible, I can get out there on a year visa as soon as my finances are in order, and it could be quite a task.
Rachel would ideally like to go and live out there as soon as the end of this year, so I am going to try as hard as I can to put myself in a position where I can go with her.
The short version of my situation is that I owe over £10,000 to various financial institutions and I really want to try and work my ass off and get it all paid up and sorted. (donations gratefully received by the way)

Going out at the weekend and pissing most of it up against the wall is not going to help me do this, naughty Dandan. Still, a slight stutter to celebrate my new earning status should be allowed I reckon, oh and another stutter this coming weekend because it is my birthday, erm, and somebody else's birthday in 3 weeks time, ah crap.

I'm still on the lookout for a proper graphic designer position, which should pay a fair bit more than what I am getting as a temp signmaker at the moment, that way I could spend more- I mean save more to sort out my yawning chasm of debt faster.

That's all for now really, sorry for the lack of sparkle and comedy compared to normal (a matter of opinion I suppose) but I felt so guilty about now writing for over a week that I had to throw something down.

Ooh yeah, and I went to the gymnastics thing this week and managed to completely not injure myself in any way whatsoever, quite a major achievement I feel. Go me again.

Sunday is a day of rest

Not due to my strict devoutness, (ha, thank God i'm an Athiest) just because I am the lazy type.

And therefore, I am going to write very, very little in this post.

The problem is, I have thought of something that probably deserves quite a lot of attention, but hey, whadd'ya gonna do.

I'm thinking seriously about emigrating to Australia at the earliest opportunity.

There was something else too, but it is so earth-shatteringly important that I forgot what it was.

Damn.

Flip, twist, spin, Crack.

I went to that gymnastics thing again.

I didn't land on my neck this time, which was a distinct plus.

I did headbutt the edge of the trampoline after a particularly spectacular (and entirely unplanned) dismount though.

Ouch.



The comments box can for this post be renamed as the 'sympathy box' or possibly the 'that'll learn you, you bloody nutbag box'

On a lighter note, I learned to do proper backflips, the ones where you go onto your hands then onto your feet again then hands, feet, etc etc, like Michelle Pfpfpfpeiffer does as Catwoman in Batman Returns. Not that I want to get dressed up in black latex and somersault through rain soaked night time streets or anything. Er.

Ouch, note to self, don't prod the red bit on my head.

Ah nivva deed thaa in me puff

Ah the wonders of accents, eh?

I am sometimes, admittedly rarely and usually by people with ludicrously thick regional accents themselves, accused of sounding a little bit like a farmer. Yes, sometimes I might possibly pronounce 'light' as if it had an extra 'o' in it, but that's as far as it goes I'm sure.
I don't say 'my luvverrrrr' and I don't own, nor have I seen in the flesh, a combine harvester.

I reckon (as I suppose most people do) I have a very neutral accent, kind of like the queen minus the poshness. I pronounce all my words the way they are written, vowels are strictly to be used as they are intended, and I don't use any weird regional slang either, or (and this really annoys me) do things like pronounce 'texts' as 'texes'. Argh.

Anyway, so there is me, Mr Neutral, and today I went to Bath to meet up with another signmaker to help him fit some graphics in the university library.

He came from Scotland

He even came from Glasgow.

He had the best accent. Ever.

The title of this post roughly translates as 'I never did that in all my live long years' which is one of the many hugely confusing but brilliantly interesting things he said to me today. I use that one as an example because it was one of the only things he said that I could actually translate, I found my self constantly saying 'pardon?' or 'sorry?' and then straining to pick out recognisable words so hard I swear it made me sweat a little.
We managed to do the job, more by gestures and pointing I reckon than by actual communication, (although I did figure out by the end of the day that 'skwidge' is 'squeegee', and 'cudd-a' is 'scalpel') but I had a whale of a time talking to him, and he was such a nice guy that I kept talking even though it was like holding a conversation with a badly plumbed house.

I'm going back tomorrow to finish it off and I will try to remember some of the slang terms he used and the phrases that he said, they were great.

So, Mr Neutral here is going to sit up all night and watch downloaded episodes of Taggart, so I might be able to piece some conversations together tomorrow, and because maybe secretly, I want to sound like that too.

'Ken ya pass me thaa thar wee rool so's aye ken chop this parna?'
(Would you be so kind as to hand me the ruler so that I may trim this section of vinyl?)

Sorry

Yes, look, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, I've been very very lax this last week, no posts for ages, I realise some of you out there have been crying onto your keyboards daily when you realised you won't be getting your Aimless fix again, sorry.

And the worst bit is, I have been doing loads of stuff that would make really good blog-fodder (can I copyright that term?) but I have had no time to write about it!

I went for a fantastic meal that I didnt have to pay for, I got myself a new job (temporarily), I've been travelling about a bit, met people, spent some money (a huge thing for me lately) all sorts of stuff I can't even think of right now. But the problem is that physics and the real world basically say that if I'm doing all this interesting stuff, I will have less time to actually write about it so you can read about it. Nuts.

And you won't get an update now either 'cos it's sunday and I can't be bothered. So nerr.

Flip, twist, spin, snap.

Every time I go climbing, me and Rich always finish off the session by doing a kind of handstand-from-sitting-position thing which is really hard to do but good fun and kind of impressive I guess.
Sometimes we also mess about doing a few back somersaults as the floor is covered with a nice thick, spongy rubber matting that, while probably not reducing the risk of severe spinal doom in the event of an accident, it at least inspires a little confidence, which is handy when you plan to throw your body backwards over your own head.

I have always said I would like to do more of that sort of thing, like gymnastics, but possibly with less spandex, so last week we went to a local adult gym class.
I turned out to be really, really good, and possibly the most relaxed and informal event that has ever dared call itself a 'class' and gotten away with it.
Basically, after some faffing around when we got there, I found the guy in charge, and he said to me, and these are his actual, exact words: "Come for the adult gym yeah? OK well the hall is yours to do what you want with (gestures to indicate fully equipped gymnastics hall) and just try not to kill yourself, OK?"
That was it, seriously.

Well, detailed and thorough induction out of the way, me and Rich cracked on with trying not to kill ourselves, which we fully managed, and in spectacular fashion I might add.

It was so much fun, and we had managed to not kill ourselves so impressively, that we went back this week too.
You know that point where confidence takes over common sense for just a brief moment, but that moment is long enough to cause some serious problems?
Like when you think you are 'chummy' enough with the bouncer at your local club to crack a bit of a piss-taking joke at him, and then you realise common sense obviously ducked for cover for a moment there when you realise the bouncer is advancing toward you with a grin (not because of your joke, which probably wasn't that funny anyway) and pulling a steel bar out of his sleeve.
You know that moment?

Well I had one of those, it occurred roughly when I was landing from a round-off to a back somersault.
My Common Sense said 'I'm just nipping out to get some milk, Confidence, I'm going to leave you in charge, don't do anything silly'
My Confidence said something along the lines of 'hur hur hur'.
I start to do another back somersault after the first one, Common Sense comes rushing back in and screams 'Nooooooooo!' but my body replies 'sorry mate, too late'

I landed on my head.

It's gone midnight

And I'm still up, fa la la!

OK, childish eagerness aside, this unemployed lark is certainly good for promoting unique sleep patterns, and it does give you a feeling of freedom, like I could do anything I want, whenever I want. Unfortunately you then have to read the small print which basically says *as long as it doesn't cost any money whatsoever, 'cos you have none, and you are earning none you bloody idiot*

So the opportunity to do anything I want, at any time, absolutely anything- usually results in me having a cup of tea and reading some more of my book.
I am being pro-active about getting a new job though, I even bought a jobs paper today.
No, I haven't read it yet, but I heard somewhere that it's the thought that counts.

I have sent my CV and a grovelly fawny letter to every design agency in the vicinity though, asking about junior designer positions or even work experience, and so far have received 1, yes 'one' reply.
And that said 'no thanks'.
Nuts.

Well next week is officially 'lower my standards' week, I will go out and look for a job, any job, just so I can afford to exist for the foreseeable future until something I really want to do comes along. So, I'll be looking for any openings for bed testers, chocolate tasters, climbing hold testers, you know, just bread and butter stuff.

Seriously if anyone knows of something, anything I can do that will earn me a fraction more than minimum wage, please let me know, my wallet has been on a diet for so long I think it has eaten my national insurance number card and all my old receipts.

Not that i'm desperate or anything.

Pleeeeaassssseeee.

Right, i'm off to do something that isn't usually done in the middle of the night, just because I can. I might fly a kite, or go down the beach.

Better and better

His surroundings slowly sharpened themselves back into focus and he looked around.

As always, he had become a little too absorbed by the Su-Doku in front of him, paying little attention to anything else until the numbers had all found their rightful place, but as he clicked the tip of the pen closed, he once more focused on the train carriage around him.

His mind focused on something else as well, a weight pressing on his right shoulder, not heavy, but solidly there, reassuringly there.
The weight was her. She had fallen asleep in the seat next to him, with her head resting against his slightly lowered shoulder.

From where he was, all he could see was a mass of brown and blond wavy hair, (hair that she thought was a tangled mess and he thought was just perfect, not immaculately styled but always effortlessly suited to her) and he could just smell her, no perfume today, just her natural fragrance, not strong but still intoxicating and unmistakably unique.

He was happy. He had every reason to be happy. Recent events had all been good, the weekend went well, meeting some of her friends and experiencing a little London living for a change had been exciting and interesting.
His life in general was good, changing jobs soon promised to be both frightening but positive, friendships were strong and getting stronger, the world was full of opportunity and positivity.
But even without these things, he would be happy, even with a lot more stress and unpleasantness in his life, he would still be happy, because he had her.

He had fallen in love in a very short time, and incredibly as far as he was concerned, she had too. She constantly called him amazing, but he knew that it was her that was making him so amazing, he was responding and interacting with her like never before and this meant everything he said seemed to be just the right thing, at just the right time.
If he wanted to make her laugh, (which he did all the time) the right words would come straight away, and her gorgeous close-lipped smile would appear, then her lips would part, showing a glimpse of her incredible tiny teeth as she laughed, always without a hint of self-consciousness.

He could rely on her to be there for him, whatever the situation, but even more incredibly, he knew he could rely on himself to be there for her, seemingly without any effort at all. It was what he wanted to do, what made him and her happy and it was so easy.

He knew she was special, maybe more special than anyone he had met before, and he knew he was exactly where he wanted to be. It may have just been a train, swaying and clunking it's way through the dark back to Southampton Central, but it wasn't about where he was physically, it was because he was with her.

He was happy and he knew it.
Then the train clunks harder than usual and the weight lifts from his shoulder as she wakes up.
She immediately turns her head to look at him, he looks straight back at her and she smiles, as gorgeous as ever.
He immediately knows everything he just thought about is right, just seeing her face, looking at him like she does, confirms that what they have is incredible.

Then just from looking at him, her smile eventually cracks wider and wider, and he thinks:

"It just gets better and better"

Can I have a job please?

I'm a bit scared.
I'm scared of looking for jobs, the things people expect of the applicants scares me, I'm scared of the thought of the interview, and I'm generally scared of not finding something that I will be able to do.

So, can someone just give me a job please? Like "turn up at 9am, we'll have a desk waiting for you" sort of thing?

It's not the job i'm frightened of, it's getting one that scares the crap out of me.