Saturday Night’s Alright

It’s typical isn’t it. I agree to work on a Sunday and on my way home, early, on a Saturday night, I get literally dragged into licensed premises (okay, it didn’t take a lot of doing) to find two guys with acoustic guitars playing some quality blues.

I could comfortably have stood there grooving until they locked the doors behind me but a sense of responsibility drove me back onto the road home. I could do with seriously letting my hair down. Not necessarily involving large amounts of alcohol but I feel the need to sing and dance. Co-incidentally I noticed another place in town has a Rolling Stones tribute on tomorrow night but wonderfully, I’m at work early on Monday.

I’ve enjoyed today in a kind of obscure way. Working out of one’s normal hours always has a different feel, unless one is salaried and expected to work all the hours God sends until the work is done. I bought a carry-on suitcase for a trip next weekend that I just can’t wait for, watched Ireland win at football in a pub that positively erupted when their (our!) winning goal went in and then just soaked up the vibe of a relaxed city on Saturday night, coupled with music and playing with friends on Facebook. I’m now back in my own little home and planning bedtime. Life is being as good to me, personally, as it ever has been. And I mean ever.

That’s not me wearing rose-tinted specs of any kind or disrespecting my old friends. Life has stresses and pitfalls and awkward fences. I guess I mean that I’ve never been more ready and able to cope with whatever life throws at me. I am more me than I’ve been for a long, long time.

The Sunshine Of My Love

So it’s been the best part of a week again. I promise to try and update things here a little more regularly, okay?

I tend to try to downplay any talents I may have. This is clearly an unintelligent thing to do. As was once sung - “you must stir it and stump it and blow your own trumpet or trust me you haven’t a chance!”

Bearing this in mind, I’m prepared to admit that I like to think that I have a way with words. Far greater minds and talents than mine have likened the life of a man to the passing of a year. By any stretch of the imagination, I’m no longer a young man. To pick up the Year analogy and run with it as best I can for a while, I never expected, after the grey, stormy and miserable spring I had, to find my midsummer to be so balmy and delightful. Imagine one of those idealised summer evenings that we all remember from our childhood. Things are warm and still. There are flies buzzing lazily by – not annoyingly but charmingly, the light glinting from their armour. The slowly westering sun glints through trees, making the leaves glow with a magical, golden green, their edges like burnished gold. The summer has no harshness to it but rather a tranquil, benevolent warmth, seeping into my bones and my soul, chasing away any trace of lingering damp and banishing the last of the coldness of spring to a place that has no bearing on today. I could never have reached a point where I can close my eyes and bask in this heavenly glow without having endured the winds and gales. I wouldn’t appreciate the tender kiss of the sun’s rays if I hadn’t felt the sting of the frosts.

That’s actually a far cleverer play on words than you may realise!

To cut out the flowery phrases, I’m in my mid-forties and have never been happier. In fact, I’m so happy that an impartial observer may find it faintly nauseating. My humble, giggling apologies. Lighten up!!

Until the next time, which I promise won’t be so long…fare well.

Tonight

Some things give me a warm glow inside. Trees in the rain or in the evening sunshine. The wag of a dog’s tail. Cats purring. People who both display and appreciate manners. People who are humble about their talents. The beauty of music of all kinds. An unexpected pleasure. The happiness of those I love.

I’m sat here, shortly before bed, with a smile on my face. I had a very enjoyable walk earlier on and then a lovely evening, vicariously. Sometimes just knowing that good things are happening is enough.

I went out to the bin in my yard an hour or so ago. There was a break in clouds so I stood and looked at the stars for a while. Shimmering sequins in the gown of night. But not the prettiest sight I saw today.

It’s Monday morning already, by the clock. Isn’t it funny how time twists around us all? It’s tomorrow morning now, in a way, even though I still haven’t made today into yesterday. I go now to do so. Good night, everyone.

Streaming

…as in consciousness. Apologies if my uncensored musing offend anyone’s delicate sensibilities. Actually not. If I offend thee, don’t come back.

So. There’s places in this fine city where I can go and feel reasonably comfortable. They are the two “rock pubs” that I’ve found. The thing is, in that kind of establishment, one tends to find power drinkers, “recovering” drug addicts and a general ambience that’s too loud for conversation with people that one doesn’t know well and have an unfamiliar accent. I’ve discovered that it’s possible to feel at home and completely isolated at the same time.

 

“I feel as though I’m out in the cold..”

 

Next weekend I have a “Works Do” to look forward to. And I am looking forward to it. Although I’ve found places to hang out and listen to music I like, I am feeling shorn of “normal” conversation sometimes. The little pleasantries that one might exchange with people that one sees day to day. Maybe that’s why I’m actually enjoying going to work again. Seeing people with more than a modicum of intelligence, who aren’t completely out of their brains (what’s left of them), is kind of comforting. Even if the conversation is about issues at work, it is conversation rather than drunken rambling. God knows, it’d be far too easy to slip into that mode. I’ve done it before.

 

“Oh my God, look what the cat dragged in!”

 

I’m stronger than that now, though. I can shrug away the little voice that whispers in my ear to tell me that I’m not good enough or that I don’t deserve to be happy. I hope that I can share that strength with someone else. The me that sought solace from the slightest pain in the bubbles floating in a glass is long gone. That’s why I’m sat here at 11.45 on a Saturday night drinking tea, having spent the best part of an hour or so under a tree in the rain by a lake just thinking. Even if I regretted burning any bridges, which I don’t, I have to deal with life as it is. Yes, there will be hard times and bad days. That’s just the way life is. Ultimately, one chooses one’s path and then walks it. Everything we say or do has consequences. All anyone can do is to choose as wisely as they can and then face any repercussions.

 

“A heart full of sorrow makes a lonely tapestry”

 

Once, not that long ago, I was exhausted. Every day was too much for me. I came within an ace of doing what is commonly referred to as “something foolish”. I found, or rather, was shown, that I have the capability to go on and make things better than they were. I am not solely responsible for what happened in the past. All I can do is face the coming day and make the best of it that I can. I hope and pray (or would, if had the faith or the right) that I won’t face the future alone. I have found a light that I never dared to believe existed. If I can’t walk in that light every day for the rest of my life, it’s enough for me to know that such a light exists. Not everyone is so lucky. Some people spend their entire lives in the darkness. Not I.

 

“I need to give, I need to live.
For the world is slowly turning
And the lights of love are burning in my eyes.”

 

So even though this hasn’t been the most enjoyable night of my life, I’m going to bed with the hope that the morning will be better. Whatever anyone thinks, I deserve that hope as does everyone. This can be a grey and empty world sometimes. The weight of what has gone before can easily drag us away from the promise of a brighter tomorrow. I beg you all never to let yourselves be so jaded that your yesterdays colour what is to come. Sweet dreams, everyone.

Tomorrow?

Alright then, later today!

I’m acutely aware that it’s been ages since a proper post here. Put it down to the fact that I’ve been re-adjusting to being at work. The whole idea of having to be somewhere at a certain time and stay there until another certain time.

In the eight days training that I had there was a fair amount of information to be crammed into my head. Fortunately, the class was being given by the best trainer I’ve ever seen work so if I do screw up I can’t put it down to poor training! The trainer was, however, working under constraints which made their job very difficult. People doing the same job that I’m doing, for the same company but based in, say, the US, get far longer in training than we have. The pressures of business today, I suppose.

So I’ve had my first pay for nine years! How cool is that? I’m informed, by people who should know and I trust to be honest with me, that I’ve made a good start, even if the first two phone calls I took were nightmarish. I’ve got over the trauma and got on with the job, which I guess is what’s required.

In the time that I’ve been in Cork nearly  everyone has been friendly and welcoming. I’ve run across a couple of people who have made me feel less than welcome but I can live with that. Two in, what, nearly six weeks isn’t a bad ratio. I’m seeing more and more of the city when I’m not working and I’m very happy here.

There’s been one thing that’s proven surprisingly difficult. It’s knowing that a certain lady is far, far closer than she was when I lived in the UK. We’ve spent a lot of time together but in the quiet of the night or the still of the day, when she’s not here, I miss her an awful lot. The whole “pretending to be just friends” when we’re around others I can handle. The knowing looks, smiles and winks make it quite fun but sometimes, when we just can’t be together, I miss her terribly and I know that she feels the same. We’ll manage, though. We both knew, when I moved over here, that there would be times that we would have to be apart. The knowledge that I’m going to see her tomorrow, however briefly, and be able to kiss her, however fleetingly, makes it bearable.

I’ve walked some serious miles today. Even though it’s gone eleven at night and I have to be up (giggle) in the morning, I’m not tired. I may put a movie on, I think. Just let me make a cup of tea….

Promises

I haven’t forgotten you all. Tomorrow, Okay? I promise.

Back In The Saddle

So today was my first day at work for nearly 9 years. It went well. Very well. It was a little strange to be meeting people who knew my face and my name from a friend’s Facebook page but they were clearly amused by it, which allowed me to smile at what might have been an awkward situation.

It was a long day, certainly but that was more down to the early start insisted on by the agency I went through than the the actual training at work, which was interesting, for the most part and very well delivered.

I’m putting it down to not sleeping well last night, the stress of starting a job (a big, big deal for me, at my age!) and possibly walking home in the pouring rain but I got very emotional when I got back home. I don’t mind admitting to shedding a tear or two. It seemed the most important thing in the world to reassure someone of something that was completely unnecessary. The person in question knows precisely what my position is on the matter in question. I can only assume that it all came from the deep well of insecurity that I’ve built up over the years. It may even have been the last , bitter dregs of that well sputtering out like the flame on a noxious candle (he said, casually mixing his metaphors with a careless toss of his hair toward the gallery). I’ve certainly never felt so secure in my personal relationships and my life in general for…I was going to say 20 years but, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think that I’ve ever felt so secure and happy in personal relationships. In fact I know that I haven’t.

So tomorrow  get to go to work again. Is it very strange that I’m excited at the prospect?

As an aside…

I’ve had a lovely day today. I just an epiphany and realised why. Yes, the delightful company this afternoon and this evening helped. Yes, it was nice to pop into a bar where I got some gentle ribbing about the fact that I was introduced to them all as Jimmy Page, and then to chat about music with the landlord. These things are not the full reason I’m so happy.

For the last three weeks or so, I’ve not been treated like a fool or like a child who needs constant direction. I’ve spent as much time as possible with someone whom I love very much and who loves me for who I am, and doesn’t seek to correct me at every turn or become confrontational if we disagree. I am getting used to being allowed to be an equal partner in relationships and having my efforts appreciated rather than having the feeling that nothing I do is quite good enough. Rather than being steadily crushed I am being raised up and supported. The support I offer in return is graciously accepted and appreciated. I am being treated, and allowed to be a “grown-up” for the first time in years and I like it. That doesn’t imply any boredom or becoming tired and staid. Indeed, I’ve shared more silly jokes and giggles recently than I have for longer than I care to remember.

My leaving my old life almost certainly hurt people that I would never have wished to hurt. My staying there, however, would have perpetuated a twisted, distorted life and enforced the impression on a young mind that what was seen was normal. I seek no-one’s congratulations or approval on what was and will remain the hardest decision I have ever made in all my years. As with all things, one can only act according to conscience and then live with any consequences. It had to stop and should have stopped years ago. It was only in the last year or so that I was reminded that I had the strength to make it stop and by then there was only one way to do it.

I was at least part of the cause of the darkness back there. Hopefully by walking away from it, it will slowly dissipate and I will not be the only one that finds the light growing around them again. I am what I am and I’ve done what I’ve done. There is no going back. Every step I take is one more on the road to a happiness that I hope my daughters will appreciate and accept one day. If not, it’s not because of what I’ve done but because of the way I did things for so long and allowed at least one of them to assume that was the way of all things. I pray any God that hears me that she will forgive me, not for what I’ve done but for allowing things to go on as they did for so long.

Is it wrong of me to seek happiness? To turn my face into the fresh breeze that blows through my life and let it cleanse me? I think not. Every man has a point at which he says “no more” and I reached mine. My mind is clear for the first time in years, my heart is alive and my soul thrills at the thought of the future. There is one person in all creation whose good opinion I value and cherish – I have it and will do nothing to have it fade.

I have no further public comment to make on this issue,  even here. I move forward and hope that everyone can.

All yawned out

I had a really bad night’s sleep last night. I went to bed about half past midnight and fell straight asleep. About an hour later I was awake, after the strangest dream. Unusually, I remembered it and still can. I was sat by the side of a pool with a dog. Not a dog familiar to me. Very deliberately it walked into the pool, the level of which then started to go up until it completely covered the dog’s head. I reached in and pulled the dog out by his collar, to find that he had a box in his mouth. I opened the box. Inside it was a mobile phone, the screen of which broke as I looked at it.

I’m not seeking any kind of interpretation of this. I just mention it as it’s very rare for me to remember dreams at all.

Anyway that was me awake for a few hours. The dawn chorus started at 4.47 precisely. I dozed a little after that but was fully awake again by 6.30. I had rather a dip about half past 10 this morning but I’m wide awake again now. I think I shall brush up again on a certain website’s help pages and then go for a walk, crossing as few roads as possible. I believe I shall complain to the Bank of Ireland, about their CSA to whom I spoke yesterday. This will be cheaper done from a public call box rather than my mobile, which means a walk towards the city centre. That’s fine – I want to drop into another couple of banks and look into savings accounts. I won the princely sum of €28 on last Friday’s Euromillions Lottery and rather than see it frittered away, I’d like to see it as the start of saving for the future. I must remember tickets for tonight’s draw.

Good times, bad times

Up until about 3 o’clock this afternoon, today was a spectacularly good day. I had an unexpected visitor who brought light and laughter into my day, where I hadn’t expected it. This afternoon, from a purely selfish point of view, two phone calls went badly. Oh, and I must learn to rethink the art of crossing roads.

So, a big thumbs down to customer service at the Bank of Ireland. I understand completely that they would send out PIN numbers for people to access their accounts by phone or online and then require customers to ring to validate the numbers. Problems may arise if said numbers are obscured by a peel-off strip which, when peeled off, leaves the numbers (I think there were 4 digits but can’t be sure – that’s how bad it was) illegible. I was asked for the first, second and fourth digits of the number and got them wrong. If I’d got them wrong, then why is it an issue if I read out the number in it’s entirety, having already been told that what I’m reading the numbers as is wrong? And why exactly is it a source of amusement for their operator that they then have to send me out a new PIN? And who told them that it was acceptable for Customer Service Agents to show amusement at a customer having difficulty with their processes? If I could face the hassle, I’d close the fecking account and go elsewhere.

The second phone call that went badly is entirely my own fault and I hope that one day it’ll be forgiven, if not forgotten.

After a close shave the other day, I’ve been very careful in crossing roads. If a pedestrian crossing is available I’ve been using it, pressing the button and waiting for the green man, no matter what traffic is in sight. This afternoon I went to cross a three-lane road, with the lights in my favour. Surely it doesn’t expect too much of motorists that they should stop at a red light. It was clearly asking too much of one woman who screeched to a halt on the crossing (NB – not before the crossing, on the crossing) and would have hit me, had I not leapt back. She mouthed “sorry” through her window and drove off, still with the lights against her! My faith was bolstered somewhat by a young lady in the next lane winding down her window and asking me if I was alright. Bless her, she was chalk white. It may have been closer than I realised.

So, notes to self. Think, look and look again before crossing roads, no matter what array of lights are showing. And for pity’s sake think about what you’re saying on the phone!

Eric Roche - Smells Like Teen Spirit

I had never heard of this guy before today. What a talent! I'm a firm believer in there being only so much one can do with a musical instrument through practice. This man had a natural gift for it. Frighteningly good!

Incidentally

Just a few things, with no particular common thread…

There’s a cliché picture of your average Irish person as being very laid back and relaxed. Billy Connolly refers to the Irish as “white black people”! This relaxed attitude certainly extends to the use of indicators whilst driving. It makes for an “interesting” experience whilst crossing roads. One has to look at the driver, rather than the indicators and try to guess whether they look like they’re about to make a turn or not. Loadsa fun!

I’ve discovered that while an Englishman may deposit money into a bank, over here one lodges funds. I haven’t put my foot in it too badly at all, I don’t think.

It’s a little strange. I have never before lived by myself. I was still living at home with Mum and Dad, at the age of 27, when I married. I’ve now been in Cork for a little under two weeks and for most of that time I’ve had the place to myself. The internet and radio (often both together – I miss BBC radio and Planet Rock!) make things liveable when I’m at home and without company. I don’t have a television and am in no real hurry to get one. I doubt that your average free-to-view Irish channel holds a lot more to interest me than the British ones. Occasionally, just occasionally, I miss having one. A television in itself is no great outlay but then I’d have to look at either Sky or Cable and I’m acutely conscious that I’m not actually bringing any money in at the moment. It’s not an issue currently but I came over here with a finite amount of money and there are more important things than television. Anyway, I don’t need T.V. when I got T. Rex!

I rather think that I might do the tourist thing properly over the next few days, so that once I do start work (fingers crossed) I don’t have distractions. Then again, I could write the letters and make the phone calls that I’ve been desperately trying to ignore. There are certain people who ought to know where I am, I suppose. And I don’t necessarily mean my daughter or (soon to be) ex-wife. I’ll keep the channels of communication open for my Elder daughter but it really doesn’t surprise me that she’s not answering me. Hopefully she’ll forgive me one day. I did what I did with my eyes wide open and fully aware of possible consequences, though.

On a lighter note, it’s nice to be living somewhere with a open grate. On nights when it’s just a little cool, a small fire is warming and cheering. Once winter sets in, I’m sure that I can remember how to bank up a fire to warm the whole house.

For now, boys and girls, I shall finish this glass of wine that was left in a bottle and I shall repair to bed. I must remember to blow out the scented candle. On the subject of scents, isn’t it strange how some perfumes linger….?

Good night, one and all. Sweet dreams.

A Shot In The Dark

I don’t seem to be able to connect to the internet for more than about 30 seconds at a time for some reason tonight. One of the benefits of using a desktop blogging client is that I can write this post offline and then cross my fingers that my connection will hold for long enough to send it to blogger. Here’s hoping….

As I have no other internet related thingies going on to distract me, this may be a longer post than usual. Assuming, that is, that it ever makes it as far as my blog!

I ran into something of language barrier on Friday. I knew that the Euromillions lottery had rolled over and went to buy a couple of tickets. In the UK one can ask for numbers for the lottery to be picked at random. This is called a “lucky dip”. I know now that in Ireland if one asks for a Lucky Dip one will be given a sherbet sweetie. Over here the random generation of numbers is called “quick picks”. We live and learn.

I met my landlady for the first time this evening. She came round with 3 lamps for me. Very kind of her. They’re sat at the back of an alcove in the bedroom.

While I was to and fro this morning, picking up milk and bread and the like, I kept running a gentleman walking a Golden Retriever. It’s probably very, very wrong of me but what I miss most about being in Lynn is the two dogs. I hope that they’re not sat staring forlornly down the hall of the house, waiting for me to walk back through the door.

If they are waiting for to walk back through the door, then they’re waiting in vain. Even if I wanted to take it all back, which I don’t, I don’t think I’d be allowed to. I was meant to be taking my Elder Daughter and a friend to see Lady GaGa in London on Tuesday next week. Before I left, I told her that I still would, if she wanted me to. I’m assuming that she doesn’t as any texts that I’ve sent her have gone unanswered. I messaged her through Facebook this morning and there’s been no response to that either. I summoned up the courage to ring the house landline this evening and there was no answer to that. Maybe I should try from a phone box so they don’t recognise the number….I think I may be persona non grata and I can’t honestly say that I blame her. No whining here, though. I went into this with my eyes wide open and knew what I had to lose, possibly.

I may as well fess up to having had “a moment” yesterday when I got back from the city absolutely soaked. I could only have been wetter had I jumped in the river. I didn’t expect to find an indoor paddling pool where the rain had got in the roof, run down the water tank and dripped through the lounge ceiling. I stood and goggled at it for few seconds, swore profusely and then burst into tears. It was over quickly and I pulled myself together to get it sorted out. It just kind of blindsided me for a while.

I had lots of good intentions for tonight. I wasn’t going to waste the evening messing about on Facebook or playing chess. I was going to access my CV, which is stored online and make sure that it was up to date and reasonably well presented, then save a copy to a memory stick so that I could get it printed out somehow, not having a printer. That, of course, has gone completely up the river as I can’t get online to anything. So I’m going to go and curl up in my bed, cuddle a small soft toy that I have with me and try to get some sleep.

Good night, all.

Moments both good and bad

Firstly, I’m more than a little touched by the comments of support below. Thank you!

Now, as I promised that there were tales to be told I thought I might add a couple of them tonight before I shower and turn in.

I flew out here with Aer Lingus. I knew that I was over my baggage allowance (in more ways than one!) I was completely expecting to have to pay excess. What I wasn’t ready for was the reaction of the guy at the check-in desk. On being told that I was well over my baggage allowance I asked “I can still fly with that though, yes?” and was met with a frown, pursed lips and a shake of the head. A shake of the head? Are you telling me that I can’t fly? What do you want me to do?? Left luggage lockers? Maybe I should bin some of my clothes.

As it turned out he was very nice and on being informed that it was the first time I’d flown he charged me about half what he should have done. As nice as that was of him, he’s responsible for a few more grey hairs!

There’s a rock pub over here called Fred Zeppelin’s. I checked it out today and had a few friendly words with some of the locals about Howling Wolf. I also saw some of them starting their Saturday night early with a cocktail called a Fred’s Super Special or something like that. Whatever it was called I remember the ingredients clearly. 1 measure Jagermeister + 1 measure Absinthe + 1 measure Red Aftershock. This is patently absurd and completely calls for falling down or walking into walls. Or as a very erudite lady commented - “Holy sweet suffering mother of fuck! That’s ridonkulous!” The Lady in question is entirely right and I look forward to trying one or two of said cocktails with her in the near future, after booking a taxi home, of course.

One last thing. An unexpected phone call after a hard day is special enough. To hear a knock at the door during the conversation and, on answering it, to find the caller there, grinning, is just magical. What a spell some people cast!

New Horizons

Well it’s rented but I guess it’s “mine”.

I’m sat in an armchair in my new home. A different town, a different country. This is, actually, the first time that I’ve ever lived by myself. I’m hoping to start work fairly soon, although the job that I have my eye on doesn’t become available until August, by the look of things. I have sufficient funds to keep myself until then, as long as I don’t do anything stupid.

I have a few stories to tell about my journey over but for now, I’m here, I’m well and I’m settling in.

The Effects Of Stress

These last 13 days are going to be stressful. I’ve not made any mention of the fact that I’m leaving yet, in an attempt to keep the stress levels down but people pick up on things.

I was speaking with a friend this morning who has two options for social engagements this evening should she choose to take either of them up. She kindly asked what my day held and for a moment the stifling of my life welled up over and I was filled with hopelessness. Yes, I could go out for a pint or two, if I chose, this evening. The Third Degree that I’d get when I got back combined with the barely concealed resentment that I’d gone in the first place would far outweigh the enjoyment of going, though, so it’s really not worth the grief.

On the subject of resentment, I in no way resent the fact that the friend in question, or indeed anybody, has a social life. Just because I don’t have a life at the moment is no reason that anyone else shouldn’t. I live vicariously through friends currently, both in their professional and social lives, so it’s nice to hear that someone is going to have a good time. It makes me happy that people I care for are happy. Should the friend in question read this, she is not to feel bad about mentioning her options nor responsible for any kind of impact on my mood. I am genuinely, genuinely happy that someone who works as hard as she does has the chances to unwind with her friends occasionally. She knows me well enough to know that that’s true but she also knows me well enough to have heard the almost imperceptible change in my voice and to have sussed that something was suddenly wrong.

It will also make me happy when I have a life again and my stress levels are reduced. My skin suffers enough in the heat without the added bonus of stress-induced problems. This…

is very, very itchy, despite any medications I have for it and is, frankly, driving me crazy. Or crazier than I am at the best of times.

Very soon, a large change is going to happen in my life and although I’m not blind to potential difficulties the outlook is going to be so much rosier than it is at the moment. I will have the opportunity to be myself again and, God help us, to be happy!

Hugs and kittens and rainbows

My move to a new place online is only part of it. I’ll be physically moving very soon to  a new place and a new life. The old life has been unhappy for years and my physical and mental health has been suffering because of it.

Despite that, I’d probably have slowly sunk out of trace under the weight of it all, had I not been re-energised, refreshed, renewed and reborn by a very, very special lady. I won’t embarrass her by naming her here (yet!), even under a nom d’amour but she knows who she is. Even though I’ve explained, I’m still not quite sure that she gets how much I owe her.

Maybe this will help.

Peculiarity

Mobile phones are a wonderful invention. Having said that, there are many, many times when they drive me completely leary!

I don’t mean other people using their phones where I can overhear what they’re saying – these things are mobile so they can be used anywhere. That’s not a problem.

No, what drives me mad is when they don’t work properly for me. If I’m speaking to someone stood in their kitchen, it really shouldn’t matter which direction they’re facing or whether they’re walking about or not. And how come if my voice is really clear and verging on too loud, that I can just barely hear what’s being said to me?

I’m not a fool. I know that it’s about network coverage and blackspots and weather conditions and landscape and stuff like that. This is just a bit of a rant. The fact that I can produce several good reasons why I can’t hear what’s being said to me doesn’t make it any less annoying or stop it stinging.

I believe that “Gah!” may be the word I’m looking for. Or possibly something less polite.

Er…hello!

So, yes. Welcome to the formal opening of Twirling In The Light. It’s still something of a work in progress but as part of my journey to new beginnings I felt that this was the time to close down my old blog and open this one up. It’s never been hidden but I’ve now actually told everybody where it is.

Welcome. Pull up a chair/table/rug/barrel/crate/bottle/musical instrument. Whatever takes your fancy. Apart from one thing – if your fancy is taken by your humble scribe, tough! Very taken, thank you. And very happy about it.

It’s something of a wrench to leave the old blog behind. I never expected to become so emotionally invested in it, as friends of mine have found when changing their online presence.

It’s also rather odd to be blogging under my real Christian name. My nickname is so distinctive that it’s far more anonymous to use “Greg” as there’s lots of Gregs out there. So with more anonymity than I had before, I hope to be able to blog freely without having to resort to too much self-censorship.

Welcome to the show……

The Ultimate Question

So if people are desperate, in these dodgy economic times, to be letting their flats and apartments, exactly why is it that I can’t get any of the bastards to answer their phones or reply to emails?