7 May 2012

Post 347: trying to break up more of the same

I always feel a bit guilty not having this up on Sunday, ready for people to pretend they’re reading something important on their computer screens on Monday Morning.

But I realised yesterday that today was Bank Holiday, so I had a day’s stay of execution.
Another week, another person basically telling me what an awful person I am. I don’t expect to traipse through life criticism free, that would be retarded and verge on me being a simpleton which I don’t think I am, but apparently I am ‘shallow and judgemental’ which basically makes me a c*nt, ‘Shallow’ in the sense that I’m out of order favouring online dating profiles with prettier profile photos. Apparently that makes me shallow and I’m a hypocrite for hoping to be judged on much more than my photo when all I’m doing is judging people on their photos. For starters I’m not doing this at all – it’s normal to give a photo about a 5-10 second look to ascertain whether there could be something about said person and then I spend a fair amount of time reading that person’s profile for any signs that this person is a bit special or that this might not be a worker – it’s hardly rocket science and talking about it like this makes me sound painfully patronising when I’m probably only moderately patronising at best. Still I did receive this which was quite heartwarming:

I read your profile this afternoon and just wanted to pop back and tell you that you sound like a truly amazing, decent guy; intelligent, strong and a great sense of humour. You sound great company :-) Sadly, guys like you are few and far between. Whilst Im definitely not bossy or absorbed by my career, its a real shame that I dont live closer to you.

So, not too bad for shallow, judgemental and a bit patronising – but hardly the best covering letter – perhaps ‘the Apprentice’ beckons. But my backstory isn’t ‘tough enough’ (ie I’m not from some Southend sink estate) and built a dogsh*t cleaning business

with my bare hands and Elbow grease plus I’m not cockney enough. More importantly, who on earth would want to work for Alan Sugar, a man who seems to behave not like the very average businessman he is, but instead aging in dog years like some East End gangster not unlike ‘Atchet’Arry’

from ‘Lock Stock...’.

Great, that should be enough for someone to tell me I’m posh and snobby and therefore not worth listening to. I’m really not, I just take issue with people who aspire to be cockney gangsters or work for them – it’s like care in the community crossed with Dragons Den, people who can’t stop telling everyone how self-made they are and people who obviously only care about themselves, it’s probably all the X factor’s fault.
It is not my intention to write something that makes people think less of me, I feel shat upon enough already thank you. I’m just trying to make my way in the world like everyone else, I’m no evil genius, I think I’m no more shallow than anyone else and I’m probably regarded as judgemental because I have opinions about things, opinions that I’m not afraid to voice and stick up for, as for patronising, people sometimes don’t understand things. It’s not exactly the Sicilian defence

of being called shallow, judgemental and patronising but it’s a start. I’ve said it before, but I steadfastly refuse to be boring (yawn). A bore maybe but I’m too young to be satisfied with this.
I had an interesting conversation the other night about how filling my life with ‘once in a lifetime’ experiences like I’m doing is the right thing to be doing. Most people go to a big live event not that often, sometimes 2-3 times in their life. I try and go 2-3 times sometimes a week, and I don’t do it for myself because it does take so very much out of my pathetic energy.
This week, starting with last Sunday, I have been out a foolhardy four times, and I’m f*cking knackered today – doctors, the lateral thinking lot that they are would parrot-fashion say that this is the underlying reason for my fatigue. Uh, no it’s not – no one feels this bad and should be expected not to have had enough. I also make attempts to find something to do with my life, now I’ve actually got a carer who can legally drive my van and who I trust to actually be on my side, I’m going to a weekly writing course one evening a week and I look forward to it and seeing the other people who all seem very nice and interesting (and I’m not just saying that because there could be a good chance they’re reading this, and the teachers a MILF (which helps –if you don’t know what that means, where have you been? – there goes my shallowness again), anyway, so far it is a million times better than my online course that I got nowhere with 3 years ago
Who knew that classes with humans would be better?
I have however rolled my foreign holiday aspirations over to next year. The logistics, at this stage appear to be too overwhelming, so it’s 7 years and counting without a proper overseas holiday. As much as I love this country, it’s bloody awful isn’t it?
My other big push over the next few months is learning to use this right hand keyboard

which frankly terrifies me. I found it on the internet and my parents gave it to me as my belated birthday present. It is like having an alien artefact to try and interface with the computer. Given time I’m sure it’ll become invaluable but right now it might as well be a piece of molten Kryptonite, speaking of which I was able to take Gary and Gwen

(my brilliant housekeepers/carers, Gary never usually looks this serious) to the Film Music Gala at the Albert Hall last night. They were the perfect people to take me, for a start they’d never been to the Hall which I regard as one of the wonders of the world

– they don’t make them like that anymore. My tenuous link was that one of the highlights was the music from Superman, and I’m sure this is an observation I’ve made before but my goodness what a genius John Williams is! Here is a man who can wake up every morning and really say that he has left his mark on mankind in the same way as legions of other talented musicians, I always cite DJ Tiesto as an example of a guy who must wake up everyday and think ‘how f*cking good is my life?’ . Even if he sounds like a stereotype of a dutch ganja smoking tulip farmer. Back on track. Sure, Spielberg or Lucas may have made the actual films but you can’t think of Indiana Jones without humming the theme tune or Star Wars without imagining the menace of the Deathstar

without a brass section. Williams is 80 this year and I’ve already bought my tickets for a birthday Gala of his music in October.
That rounded off my event going but it being Bank Holiday weekend I’m very much looking forward to drinking fine red wine with my neighbours Ian and Tracy tonight (well it was last night now). The rest of this week was stupidly busy as on Wednesday and Friday, a forgotten friend from my clubbing days (There are one or two, Ched

, a charming chap who by a stroke of luck lives pretty locally) (as a Financial adviser he recently helped me do my will properly, tick) On Wednesday we went to Brixton Academy to see 80s electronic synth rock pioneers New Order and on Friday to see the Lostprophets, a band we knew almost nothing about. Two very different crowds, for New Order 30/40 something raver casualties

(not that’s what Ched and I are) and the lostprophets were like a Welsh Linkin Park

so once in a lifetime experiences for the people who are kind enough to suffer me, DONE.
Goodness, I think the academy is just an outstanding music venue, so good I’ll suffer the poor wheelchair access and the fact it’s in Brixton – finding the Nando’s over the road there has helped, to be honest, almost every second I’m alive is suffering so it’s a bit of a miracle I do anything. You know the old expression ‘to put it out of it’s misery’ when you send a pet to be put to sleep – I’m afraid I’m like that. So tonight I’m off to the Albert Hall to go and see Britfloyd, Britain’s biggest Pink Floyd tribute act. Pink Floyd were utter genius, seeing the Australian Pink Floyd in March was brilliant
I may love their music but the lightshow the Aussie Floyd had put on was sensational – probably something to do with the sensory deprivation that this f*cking stroke has caused.
Absolutely last, but certainly not least are the thanks I want to make to the wonderful Cheyenne,

who took me out last Sunday to see Paul Merton in Woking.

Now, I think given how quick and sharp the man is on Have I got News for You’,

he has one of the finest comedy minds in the world – with this in mind his live show left me a bit flat, a shame given how clever I think he is, but it was nice to find Chey didn’t find taking me out too much of a nightmare. Apologies if this is a long and boring post.



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