Monday, March 22, 2010

DSC_2118 [psp] - NormalisingIs it time?

I don't really know what to say here any more. The anonymity thing has thunged, or at least if it hasn't then that's only because here is so moribund Google and ilk forget it exists.

I rarely seem to get past the first third of a post, aborting it mid-draft (I know; parallax, m'dear). But then it's only very seldom that I remember Blogger. It's taken longer to forget than Google Wave, but then it did once have a function. Facebook and Twitter have nicked all the ideas, leaving this place as somewhere waiting to add padding.

That's not quite true, but this isn't what it was. It holds less power now. I can say less. I'm not sure I have any less to say, but it's harder say it here, to say it anywhere, now the world is a little better at finding and knowing.

Except I've just discovered in amongst the moribund blogs a green shoot of recovery. The old guard live on. So there goes the "well, everyone else isn't doing it" reason.

Ok, so maybe I'll carry and not so much hang the consequences but simply hope there are none. I've been doing that for an age. All it takes is not counting some of the consequences as consequences.

So what's happened since last I wrote? When was that anyway?

Ok, so what's happened recently? Well, the side-project that never really was now isn't again, only in the other way. I just have vision issues. Romping in Elysian fields (clearly without bothering with the death bit) seems so bloody unlikely. I think I need to reread... was it James that was "I can and I will"? Obarm myself.

Other stuff that I've no idea if I mentioned: Theatre.

Because I can and I will and I lastminute cheap but surprisingly good seats. Ok, so so far the grand total has been Waiting for Godot (because, well, it's like reading Dickens or Austen; it's something one simply should have done [don't point out I've never read either]. That and I missed something I wanted to see and had missed WfG the last time round, so thought seeing something on your own is better than not seeing it) and The Little Dog Laughed, because Mr 5500 commented on it and he's my Jai, although he may not know this (though apparently does. We're 'SUPER'. Oops). But then left to my own devices, not would I probably would, but my listening seems to revolve around tie-in music (last three songs played being that one from Glee, but not by them, that one from the John Lewis Christmas ad which is in no way linked to the BBC2 JL documentary that was on whenever it was, and The Gadsdens covering Small Town Boy, which is bound to turn up in some soap break up montage. Not that I watch soaps. Well, except for one that had Chryed, which is not very good but either both actors have been sacked or it's their turn again soon [it's a soap; they can't let the dead stay dead, let alone lingering desire stick at that]).

So what has this taught me? That there's nothing to be done and that I wear rentboy clothes.

Well, if one must shop in H&M. Was very glad I'd planned to wear it the next evening, as that could have been... conversation starting.

Um, yep this looks like it's all making about as much sense as ever. All I need now is to master the master of magic spells part (except being me, I just checked I'd remembered it right, and it's the rhyme of the line I was referring to. And I must be back because Google's cache of my searches just became a lot less useful for them).

Still don't know how to end these things though. Not that I ever really get the start right (ooh, shoes flashback) or the middle beyond middling.

So um, other other news: I think I may have worked out why my Lemon Surprise Pudding (p588 in the other bible) always has the wrong surprise. SA:Vol.


Oh you've got to keep going. One post a month isn't too much trouble surely (do as I say not as I do)?

I'm another green shoot. Actually, more a persistent old root that's resprouted.

I've cut my head several more times since we met....
Fine, I'll try (I've even dumped the more recent massed drafts into public view).

So what happened to your shoots? Late frost?

Some people might take repetitive head injuries as a hint.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?