"Life is something that happens when your busy making plans"
John Lennon
Great quote isn't it. I was thinking about plans this morning. Thinking. Always too much bloody thinking. I had to prize myself into the car as I suffered a terrible allergic reaction to work at breakfast time. It's an awful allergy. Side effects include compulsive tea drinking, knobbing about on the computer, incessant inner dialogue saying, 'go tomorrow' and Homes Under the Hammer. Fatal.
I woke with a Bee Gees song floating around my head after dreaming about a girlfriend I didn't recognise being kidnapped. Pick the bones out of that one Dr Freud. No doubt it stems from an inner childhood trauma of being a massive closet gaylord and being abandoned and left alone in a room full of men in tight jeans, massive teeth and skin tight bell bottoms singing in falsetto through hairy beards. I think early exposure to the Bee Gees when I was an infant has clearly had an effect, hence the tight jean failed rock star look. It's nuture not nature.
Such was my slumber I went through the day on auto pilot. Barely mustering the enthusiasm to speak. I naturally left early (to beat the traffic of course) - No chance of hitting rush hour on the north Circular when you leave at 12.30pm (I left at 4pm) to get home.
When I got home the slumber was on me, I contemplated all the things I could do this evening. A meeting. A sponsee to go through le steps. Cinema, Yoga, Gym, work, comedy, or adult related material? The sponsee cancelled so I had free reign but the slumber and lazy sod inside me screamed 'sofa, sofa, sofa ' loudly. It was calling, all warm and snuggly as the dark, winter wet and wild evening howled outside. The curtains were shut, the heating on full blast. An evening of snuggly slumber lay ahead.
Then I had a quick look on Facebook. I have love hate relationship with Facebook. It can be a drain on the brain and a massive waste of time. It can be a reason to promote your life as a means to look better than it is. It can be used as a massive attention seeking exercise, it can be ultra dull and of course it can be used to be a nosey bastard on other people's lives (I actually rarely look at other people's profiles, far too self centred for that)
I also feel I should be above it and intellectually better than using such a mass popular cultural tool. I naturally hate anything popular and want to go against the grain and rebel. Usually it's a small minded pathetic little rebellion that no-one in the world knows about but it makes this little soldier happy. I laugh at my futility and small mindedness.
On the timeline was a guy I know in Dubai. He posted some pictures of him trail running across the Dubai desert. He appears to have changed his life around entirely & is into it big time. Getting up at 6am and doing long runs with groups of people around the desert and he's lit up. He loves it. He looks great and I was jealous. I thought since the marathon you've been going through the motions Nick. I've become lazy, slumberfied (is that a word?) and slothful.
Inspired by this chap I immediately put on my running kit and went out into the dark night and knocked out a swift 50 min 10km run. Something I hadn't done for months and it felt good. I felt reinvigorated and enjoyed it. I realised how much it helps my head. Gives me focus and a bit more spark.
On the run I decided to do the Dubai marathon in Jan 2013. 3 months to train, over the lardy Xmas period and something to look forward to for the new year. I immediately felt more hopeful. Like I can take that into my working life and social life and give things a bit more of a crack. It gave me my Mojo back. I'm always banging on about setting fitness goals or events to aim for. Er sometimes it's good to take your own advice Nicholas Edward.
It made me realise I know people with Cancer who are doing half marathons and hardcore fitness classes. Pushing themselves, not giving into a disease. They aren't feeling sorry for themsleves. They're giving it a go
It made me realise I know people who are doing things they love despite having lots of responsibilities giving them a spring in their step and positive impact on the rest of their lives. They're giving it a go.
It made me realise I know people, even in my own family who are knocked down regularly but always get back up for more and 'have' life & spark. They're giving it a go. People are doing stuff and seem to be happy. I want some of that. What the hell is slumbering on the sofa in my own head watching shit going to achieve? Heart disease, Obesity & mental flabbiness. Thats what.
No wonder ego maniac queens send me frustrated comments, no wonder former alcoholics no longer going to meetings living in resentment send me shitty comments. I reckon I would sometimes if I followed me every day.
I felt much changed when I came back from the run. Lighter, happier and less self absorbed. I realised just how much of a fog I've been in for a while without even realising it. I churned out a couple of hours work, even going round Asda at 9pm was OK. I stayed well clear of the Haslet & Vienetta so I must have been inspired. I like Asda as there are Many leisure slacks and elasticated trousers all round. It always cheers me up.
It made me remember a watershed moment in my sobriety. I was 2 years sober and in Homebase on a Friday night. Usually Friday nights were for the whole world to party and if I wasn't I felt left out, alone, sad and miserable. But this Friday I was buying a lamp and listening to a Roy Orbison track on the PA. I checked myself and instead of wanting to commit suicide I was humming and tapping my foot. I smiled and laughed. It was OK to be dull. Roy Orbison wasn't quite so bad and neither was I. I didn't need to be out on a Friday prooving to my ego I'm not a dullard. And so what if I am? I may have to accept that I am duller than I look. I'm OK with that.
Final word is about the US Presidential elections tonight. I don't know an awful lot about American politics but I know it's a charade and America is insane. Here's my top 3 Election thoughts;
1 - 46.2 million Americans live below the poverty line & require food vouchers. 15.1 million children live in poverty. 1 in 4 single mothers are jobless and without cash. Welfare has been consistently cut over last 10 years. Cost of the US Presidential election? $6 billion. $6 frigging billion! Doesn't take Sherlock frigging Holmes to work out that's not morally right. Right?
2 - US Republican Senator Richard Mourdock recently on a TV debate declared that anyone who conceives a baby after being raped does not have the right to an abortion as all conception is a 'gift from God'. Yes people he really did say it - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xN7e8YlE-8I
Calling all Rapists - can you please go to Mt Mourdock's house for a Rape party and show this misguided moron the way? Insane. If these people are in politics in America. It's doomed.
3 - If you say Obama in a strong west country accent it makes you laugh. Try it. Guaranteed to work. I'm pleased the UK gave the election all night coverage but not once did they say 'Obama' in a Bristol accent. They missed a trick there.
Doubt I'll be getting my invite to Question Time based on that shrewd political commentary. I think Paxman can rest easy tonight.
toodle pip
x
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Day 296 - Mon 5th November - Bonfire of the Vanities
What I love about bonfire night/Firework night/Guy Fawkes night in the UK is that every 5th November, families and kids gather round in overpriced firework displays in public parks, with loud PA systems pumping out chart music and overpriced hot dog stands charging a fortune for unquantified meat in buns. Everyone goes nuts for it.
What I particularly love is that by celebrating Guy Fawkes, you are effectively celebrating a terrorist, found guarding a load of explosives underneath the House Of Parliament in 1605, after planning to assassinate King James I and return a Catholic to power. Fawkes was arrested and then tortured before admitting his guilt and sentenced to a public execution. He committed suicide before they could kill him by jumping from a beam and breaking his neck.
Grizzly huh? Not only are little kids celebrating terrorism, explosives, torture & execution but death as well. Hows about that then guys and gals? Who needs Grand Theft Auto? Just shows how screwed up UK is without knowing it. Back in 1605 there were no Ipads, sms or HDTV. No Al Quaeda. Just plain old simple religious terrorism. Times haven't moved on that much have they?
I loved firework night when I was a kid. There were not as many public displays as you get now. Instead it was the Garden Firework kit for £20, that included a Catherine Wheel you had to precariously nail to the fence, a Bomb, a couple of rockets that never went high or long enough, some coloured bombs that blew in the air and lots of spinny things. Of course several of them didn't go off, forcing the father to swear even more and get the matches out threatening his entire face, fingers and sideburns with fatal burning. There was little in the way of health & safety back then.
Of course there had to be hot dogs, they always tasted so much better on 5th November. Wank every other day of the year but Michelin standard on the 5th. The dog would be shit scarred and kept inside behaving like they were on Paranormal Activity 23. The fireworks were so exciting until they actually took off. Then they became a let down. You cursed you were born into a middle income family instead of wealth as you longed for those super rockets. See ungrateful behaviour starts in childhood.
At least they were better than 'indoor fireworks'. They were truly shit. Who remembers the pyramids that were as interesting as watching a lit candle. Indoor fireworks promised much but delivered little. They were effectively the Barak Obama of the firework world. (Do you like my nod to something topical there?)
The smell of the fireworks were pungent. An acrid smell that was so nice. Even better if you had a slight hint of burnt fingertip by the adult risking their life to light them. You wrote your name with sparklers apart from the dyslexic kids who concentrated more on shapes and writing the words 'zzzzzzznniiii'.
Then it was over far too quickly. Unless of course you were a teenager, then you could stretch it out for days by leaving fireworks in neighbours houses, doors, driveways. Sometimes adding dog shit to create a shit bomb. God I hate teenagers. Nightmare aren't they?
Now of course, it's all different. Kids rarely leave fireworks in driveways, preferring people's faces instead. Huge public displays costing a fortune to get in all computer generated in sequence to loud music. Very slick. Like everything now, it is big business and a mass consumer product. Christmas will be next.
It's great for kids. But at the end of the day once you've seen one firework you've seen them all. I mean it's just sparkly lights in the sky right? Big deal. 'Ooooh a sparkly thing. Oooooohhhhh. Another. etc etc'. Not sure I'm on board with that one. Definately one for kids me thinks.
What I especially love are the people who take pictures of the fireworks in the sky, what is that all about? 1 - they are missing the display and 2 - It looks shit on camera. If ever there was a case of 'you had to be there', fireworks is it. Surely they are an experience not a picture?
God I sound like a right miserable git don't I? Bah humbug.
I'm not sure if November 5th is a big deal in other countries? Obviously Halloween is huge in USA, however I'm presuming firework night is predominately a British thing. I mean which other country would celebrate religious terrorism with such innocence and Tesco Extra?
Quiet day today. Still reeling after the enormous feeding yesterday of all the things I rarely eat. Not any good at processing pounds of chocolate cake anymore. Cycle, run. cycle, procrastinate, friend, meeting, coffee. Home. That's about it for Monday. I'm not going to lie. It's not going to enter into the top ten of amazing days. But then again I didn't drink, abuse anyone, hurt anyone, get arrested, lose my phone/wallet and I spent some time finding out how other people were doing. Plus I'm breathing so it wasn't a bad day I guess.
Not a great blog today people. I'd rate it at 40%. Still, it can't be gold every day can it? At least the critics have piped down a little. Though I'm sure they'll be back criticising that i didn't go and help some old people today. I did actually hold a door open for a senior citizen, though the old fucker never thanked me. Does that count?
I allowed 2 people in front of me whilst driving, thanked every shop person I came into contact with, didn't lose my temper in Martins when the bloke couldn't seem to grasp the price of The Times, Guardian and Wrigley Extra, no matter how many times he tried. I kept my cool on one of the customer service lines to Barclays Bank even though I was placed in a queue several times and cut off. I didn't swear at the adviser on the other end of the phone, end up getting cut off and smash the phone up. I didn't do any of that so I guess on reflection it was a decent day.
Until tomorrow readers have a tip top and tidy day
xx
What I particularly love is that by celebrating Guy Fawkes, you are effectively celebrating a terrorist, found guarding a load of explosives underneath the House Of Parliament in 1605, after planning to assassinate King James I and return a Catholic to power. Fawkes was arrested and then tortured before admitting his guilt and sentenced to a public execution. He committed suicide before they could kill him by jumping from a beam and breaking his neck.
Grizzly huh? Not only are little kids celebrating terrorism, explosives, torture & execution but death as well. Hows about that then guys and gals? Who needs Grand Theft Auto? Just shows how screwed up UK is without knowing it. Back in 1605 there were no Ipads, sms or HDTV. No Al Quaeda. Just plain old simple religious terrorism. Times haven't moved on that much have they?
I loved firework night when I was a kid. There were not as many public displays as you get now. Instead it was the Garden Firework kit for £20, that included a Catherine Wheel you had to precariously nail to the fence, a Bomb, a couple of rockets that never went high or long enough, some coloured bombs that blew in the air and lots of spinny things. Of course several of them didn't go off, forcing the father to swear even more and get the matches out threatening his entire face, fingers and sideburns with fatal burning. There was little in the way of health & safety back then.
Of course there had to be hot dogs, they always tasted so much better on 5th November. Wank every other day of the year but Michelin standard on the 5th. The dog would be shit scarred and kept inside behaving like they were on Paranormal Activity 23. The fireworks were so exciting until they actually took off. Then they became a let down. You cursed you were born into a middle income family instead of wealth as you longed for those super rockets. See ungrateful behaviour starts in childhood.
At least they were better than 'indoor fireworks'. They were truly shit. Who remembers the pyramids that were as interesting as watching a lit candle. Indoor fireworks promised much but delivered little. They were effectively the Barak Obama of the firework world. (Do you like my nod to something topical there?)
The smell of the fireworks were pungent. An acrid smell that was so nice. Even better if you had a slight hint of burnt fingertip by the adult risking their life to light them. You wrote your name with sparklers apart from the dyslexic kids who concentrated more on shapes and writing the words 'zzzzzzznniiii'.
Then it was over far too quickly. Unless of course you were a teenager, then you could stretch it out for days by leaving fireworks in neighbours houses, doors, driveways. Sometimes adding dog shit to create a shit bomb. God I hate teenagers. Nightmare aren't they?
Now of course, it's all different. Kids rarely leave fireworks in driveways, preferring people's faces instead. Huge public displays costing a fortune to get in all computer generated in sequence to loud music. Very slick. Like everything now, it is big business and a mass consumer product. Christmas will be next.
It's great for kids. But at the end of the day once you've seen one firework you've seen them all. I mean it's just sparkly lights in the sky right? Big deal. 'Ooooh a sparkly thing. Oooooohhhhh. Another. etc etc'. Not sure I'm on board with that one. Definately one for kids me thinks.
What I especially love are the people who take pictures of the fireworks in the sky, what is that all about? 1 - they are missing the display and 2 - It looks shit on camera. If ever there was a case of 'you had to be there', fireworks is it. Surely they are an experience not a picture?
God I sound like a right miserable git don't I? Bah humbug.
I'm not sure if November 5th is a big deal in other countries? Obviously Halloween is huge in USA, however I'm presuming firework night is predominately a British thing. I mean which other country would celebrate religious terrorism with such innocence and Tesco Extra?
Quiet day today. Still reeling after the enormous feeding yesterday of all the things I rarely eat. Not any good at processing pounds of chocolate cake anymore. Cycle, run. cycle, procrastinate, friend, meeting, coffee. Home. That's about it for Monday. I'm not going to lie. It's not going to enter into the top ten of amazing days. But then again I didn't drink, abuse anyone, hurt anyone, get arrested, lose my phone/wallet and I spent some time finding out how other people were doing. Plus I'm breathing so it wasn't a bad day I guess.
Not a great blog today people. I'd rate it at 40%. Still, it can't be gold every day can it? At least the critics have piped down a little. Though I'm sure they'll be back criticising that i didn't go and help some old people today. I did actually hold a door open for a senior citizen, though the old fucker never thanked me. Does that count?
I allowed 2 people in front of me whilst driving, thanked every shop person I came into contact with, didn't lose my temper in Martins when the bloke couldn't seem to grasp the price of The Times, Guardian and Wrigley Extra, no matter how many times he tried. I kept my cool on one of the customer service lines to Barclays Bank even though I was placed in a queue several times and cut off. I didn't swear at the adviser on the other end of the phone, end up getting cut off and smash the phone up. I didn't do any of that so I guess on reflection it was a decent day.
Until tomorrow readers have a tip top and tidy day
xx
Monday, November 5, 2012
Day 295 - Sun 4th November - Weird scenes inside the Goldmine
OK readers. It stops here. Clearly there are some haters out there. That's OK. It's the way of the world and I guess sometimes you just have to accept that and move on. If you know your truth inside then that's all that counts.
I'm regulating comments not because I can't handle criticism. It's gone beyond that to people providing a running commentary on me and my life. Er isn't that what I'm doing? Why do they need to? Why not do a running commentary of their own? It's not even debate. Plus it's effectively character assassination and on a bad day I do enough of that to myself I don't need trolls doing it too. Then of course it gives people a public forum to write their own thoughts down and distracts from the blog. If they want to start their own they are more than welcome and good luck to them. I'm not prepared to offer people a public forum to do their own writing on mine.
I don't claim this blog to be amazing or important. Last time I looked they weren't reporting it on Sky News. The reason i started writing it has been lost. It's just one guy writing a daily log of thoughts, actions and yes of course some days will be totally mundane. That's what daily life is. I don't claim to be enlightened, or amazing or indeed have any answers for life. I have a long way to go myself. I wouldn't dare claim to be sorted. The only thing I can regulate other than comments, is me and my actions and believe me I have a way to go in that department.
Surely the title of this blog answers all you need to know? 'Don't you know who I think I am?' - This is a piss take against myself for being too egotistical and thinking I'm someone when I'm not. One mans journey to get over himself and his sodding Ego. A has been who never was. Christ the alcoholic ego is a frenzied beast when given the opportunity. That's what this sodding blog is all about. I've just spent a week fending off people accusing me of all the above. Fuck me, i actually say what I am in the title.
Some readers may have joined this blog late so don't know the history behind it or reasons for doing it. I thought it maybe a good idea to try and explain it. Though to be fair it's not exactly riveting; It's either this or Country Life, and that article on tweed is looking mighty attractive right now.
I read a charming book at Christmas called 'What I talk about when I talk about running' by Haruki Marakami. A story about a Japanese bar owner who became a novelist and took up marathons and running to help with his daily discipline. He talked about how doing something every day can help to change your life and thinking. Something I need! It is a sweet and profound book and I liked it.
I was due to run the London Marathon for Action on Addiction in April 2012 (something close to my heart), so I decided to write a daily blog to chart the daily training and see if I could change my natural laziness and do what it took to run a sub 3 hour 30 marathon. This would mean going outside my comfort zone and doing new disciplines. In short it would involve change. I have rarely done anything every day, other than blinking or moaning, so it would prove to be a good challenge.
That was the premise for the blog and I wrote every day. It was also a great medium to unload my head, thoughts and battle against myself & ego. This seemed to come out in the blog and since the marathon I have kept it up and continued. The marathon was a symbol for my life. Would i make the changes? Would i take advice and follow a programme or go my own way, do the marathon in 3 hours 50 but know deep down I could have done better if I applied myself? Would I fuck.
I did the it (read the entries from marathon day in April it is very funny) my way and didn't end up making the changes. I ran it in 3 hour 50 but knew I could have done better. The outside world says 'well done you did it and it's a decent time; but inside I knew the truth. An epitaph for me?
I decided to continue writing this every day for 2012, to see if my head changed, to see if the ego was sated. To chart the pattern of a year.
It has developed. I have enjoyed it. The writing has improved according to people who read it regularly. I have covered a range subjects and yes I admit the most popular one has been ME!. The self obsessed, self absorbed raging alcoholic.I actually walked past a shop in Fulham recently that was a beauty salon called 'Me. Me. Me'. I thought, how apt for an alkie.
However, I like to think that I have covered some subjects other than me. It gets a bit samey and boring otherwise doesn't it? Nothing worse than hearing someone talk about themselves all the time.
I'm sure we've all been on a date when someone just keeps talking about themselves? You usually last about 20 minutes before you want to activate that phone call from a pal and feign an emergency to leave quickly. It's ugly and a trap I must fight hard not to fall into.
I suppose if there is one thing I'd like this blog to be about then it's about it being OK to express thoughts, insecurities, problems, inner battles. There are so many people that cover up their own problems by attacking others. I have done & still do that, hurting people in my life based upon selfish actions. It's always the chronic selfishness that does it. This blog i suppose if nothing else is about the inner truth. Sounds a bit wanky that doesn't it? It's about finding out who you are, even if what you see is not very nice. The real issue is facing it and then of course putting off doing something about it by indulging in as many distracting behaviours as possible. That's what this blog is really about. Bullshitting yourself!!! Distractions. Avoiding the hard yards and pain. That's my real truth if I'm being brutally honest.
Love addiction , co-dependency, alcoholism, addiction, chronic self hatred, low self esteem, sloth, fear, greed, gluttony, arrogance and intolerance. They are all there. Bubbling away somewhere. Sometimes prominent and a driver in life, sometimes buried and dormant waiting to leap out.
There is little point in trying to display yourself as something you're not. Even though I have on many occasions. (add hypocrite to my many character traits) I have many defects. Many 'issues'. We all have. I'm not unique on that score. There are some things that are buried so deep. So ingrained they remain hard to shift. There are many areas of course i don't want to shift. Sometimes i love my defects and wallow in them, allowing them to dominate my life. The consequences to this are never far behind.Usually someone else is hurt and of course myself.
Most humans have shit going on. Most people have their own 'issues'. Some more than others. There are so many outlets for this. Shrinks, medication, fellowships, shopping. Whatever it is that gets people by.
The really hard place to be though is alone. Stuck in your head. Without a place to go, voice to hear, person to share it with. We are as sick as our secrets and I've had too many of those bastard things over the years. Even saying 'I'm Ok', when you're not is a secret. Very subtle. Listening to my head is like arguing with a lunatic. It is never ending. I guess this blog holds a mirror up to that pesky internal dialogue and shows the utter futility of the negative head and living in defects. So why do I do it so bloody much?
It's when the head takes over that i experience trouble. Then I'm in a dodgy place. Look out me and others. Trouble's ahead. So just for today I'm not going to think, be in my head or listen to myself.
Today was all about family, Roast Beef, roast parsnips & chocolate cake. I suffered from meat sweats, such was my consumption. I'm pretty sure I heard my colon saying 'no more' but of course i ploughed on regardless until I couldn't move or speak. Good job I'm not much of an over eater is it? Oh fuck another thing to add to the list................
xx
It has provided me a valuable lesson though. To regulate my own behaviour. If I don't I'll efectively be like the weird commenters
I'm regulating comments not because I can't handle criticism. It's gone beyond that to people providing a running commentary on me and my life. Er isn't that what I'm doing? Why do they need to? Why not do a running commentary of their own? It's not even debate. Plus it's effectively character assassination and on a bad day I do enough of that to myself I don't need trolls doing it too. Then of course it gives people a public forum to write their own thoughts down and distracts from the blog. If they want to start their own they are more than welcome and good luck to them. I'm not prepared to offer people a public forum to do their own writing on mine.
I don't claim this blog to be amazing or important. Last time I looked they weren't reporting it on Sky News. The reason i started writing it has been lost. It's just one guy writing a daily log of thoughts, actions and yes of course some days will be totally mundane. That's what daily life is. I don't claim to be enlightened, or amazing or indeed have any answers for life. I have a long way to go myself. I wouldn't dare claim to be sorted. The only thing I can regulate other than comments, is me and my actions and believe me I have a way to go in that department.
Surely the title of this blog answers all you need to know? 'Don't you know who I think I am?' - This is a piss take against myself for being too egotistical and thinking I'm someone when I'm not. One mans journey to get over himself and his sodding Ego. A has been who never was. Christ the alcoholic ego is a frenzied beast when given the opportunity. That's what this sodding blog is all about. I've just spent a week fending off people accusing me of all the above. Fuck me, i actually say what I am in the title.
Some readers may have joined this blog late so don't know the history behind it or reasons for doing it. I thought it maybe a good idea to try and explain it. Though to be fair it's not exactly riveting; It's either this or Country Life, and that article on tweed is looking mighty attractive right now.
I read a charming book at Christmas called 'What I talk about when I talk about running' by Haruki Marakami. A story about a Japanese bar owner who became a novelist and took up marathons and running to help with his daily discipline. He talked about how doing something every day can help to change your life and thinking. Something I need! It is a sweet and profound book and I liked it.
I was due to run the London Marathon for Action on Addiction in April 2012 (something close to my heart), so I decided to write a daily blog to chart the daily training and see if I could change my natural laziness and do what it took to run a sub 3 hour 30 marathon. This would mean going outside my comfort zone and doing new disciplines. In short it would involve change. I have rarely done anything every day, other than blinking or moaning, so it would prove to be a good challenge.
That was the premise for the blog and I wrote every day. It was also a great medium to unload my head, thoughts and battle against myself & ego. This seemed to come out in the blog and since the marathon I have kept it up and continued. The marathon was a symbol for my life. Would i make the changes? Would i take advice and follow a programme or go my own way, do the marathon in 3 hours 50 but know deep down I could have done better if I applied myself? Would I fuck.
I did the it (read the entries from marathon day in April it is very funny) my way and didn't end up making the changes. I ran it in 3 hour 50 but knew I could have done better. The outside world says 'well done you did it and it's a decent time; but inside I knew the truth. An epitaph for me?
I decided to continue writing this every day for 2012, to see if my head changed, to see if the ego was sated. To chart the pattern of a year.
It has developed. I have enjoyed it. The writing has improved according to people who read it regularly. I have covered a range subjects and yes I admit the most popular one has been ME!. The self obsessed, self absorbed raging alcoholic.I actually walked past a shop in Fulham recently that was a beauty salon called 'Me. Me. Me'. I thought, how apt for an alkie.
However, I like to think that I have covered some subjects other than me. It gets a bit samey and boring otherwise doesn't it? Nothing worse than hearing someone talk about themselves all the time.
I'm sure we've all been on a date when someone just keeps talking about themselves? You usually last about 20 minutes before you want to activate that phone call from a pal and feign an emergency to leave quickly. It's ugly and a trap I must fight hard not to fall into.
I suppose if there is one thing I'd like this blog to be about then it's about it being OK to express thoughts, insecurities, problems, inner battles. There are so many people that cover up their own problems by attacking others. I have done & still do that, hurting people in my life based upon selfish actions. It's always the chronic selfishness that does it. This blog i suppose if nothing else is about the inner truth. Sounds a bit wanky that doesn't it? It's about finding out who you are, even if what you see is not very nice. The real issue is facing it and then of course putting off doing something about it by indulging in as many distracting behaviours as possible. That's what this blog is really about. Bullshitting yourself!!! Distractions. Avoiding the hard yards and pain. That's my real truth if I'm being brutally honest.
Love addiction , co-dependency, alcoholism, addiction, chronic self hatred, low self esteem, sloth, fear, greed, gluttony, arrogance and intolerance. They are all there. Bubbling away somewhere. Sometimes prominent and a driver in life, sometimes buried and dormant waiting to leap out.
There is little point in trying to display yourself as something you're not. Even though I have on many occasions. (add hypocrite to my many character traits) I have many defects. Many 'issues'. We all have. I'm not unique on that score. There are some things that are buried so deep. So ingrained they remain hard to shift. There are many areas of course i don't want to shift. Sometimes i love my defects and wallow in them, allowing them to dominate my life. The consequences to this are never far behind.Usually someone else is hurt and of course myself.
Most humans have shit going on. Most people have their own 'issues'. Some more than others. There are so many outlets for this. Shrinks, medication, fellowships, shopping. Whatever it is that gets people by.
The really hard place to be though is alone. Stuck in your head. Without a place to go, voice to hear, person to share it with. We are as sick as our secrets and I've had too many of those bastard things over the years. Even saying 'I'm Ok', when you're not is a secret. Very subtle. Listening to my head is like arguing with a lunatic. It is never ending. I guess this blog holds a mirror up to that pesky internal dialogue and shows the utter futility of the negative head and living in defects. So why do I do it so bloody much?
It's when the head takes over that i experience trouble. Then I'm in a dodgy place. Look out me and others. Trouble's ahead. So just for today I'm not going to think, be in my head or listen to myself.
Today was all about family, Roast Beef, roast parsnips & chocolate cake. I suffered from meat sweats, such was my consumption. I'm pretty sure I heard my colon saying 'no more' but of course i ploughed on regardless until I couldn't move or speak. Good job I'm not much of an over eater is it? Oh fuck another thing to add to the list................
xx
It has provided me a valuable lesson though. To regulate my own behaviour. If I don't I'll efectively be like the weird commenters
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Day 294 - Sat 3rd Nov - Friends 40th, gary Marlow & Acceptance
I celebrate mundanity. The every day extra-ordinary of the ordinary. When I was a teenager I thought the answers in life were in the extraordinary. In the profound, philosophers, poets, writers & thinkers.
Then, when I found out I wasn''t that clever or spectacularly amazing and profound and original I decided to get drunk instead. After all everyone who I deemed interesting were drunks, so I figured If I can't match them for talent I could match them for drinks. It was a flawed plan.
Now I don't drink my view has changed. I still think/know I'm not a precocious exceptional talent. I still know I'm not an intellectual or original heavyweight. Preferring Ronaldo to Rimbaud. But that's OK today. I've accepted it. I'll leave all the heavyweight intellectual debates to what my father would have called 'the clever bastards'. I accept my limitations, not that it is a negative thing but it's important to be who you are. Attempting to be something else just ends in failure and Scrambled Egg on your face. (or Poached, boiled, fried depending on your personal taste)
What I have learnt is the meaning of life IS in the every day. Yes of course it is important and valid to read, to learn other cultures, thoughts, beliefs, ways of living. The cataloging of my everyday mundanity is an ideal medium to highlight the extra-ordinary. It is so easy to miss in every day life. When i am reminded of this I realise everything I need to learn about life surrounds me every day. It's just that someday I choose not to see it. If I'm in ego and self centred thinking how can i actually see what is happening to the world around me? Someone being kind, an act of generosity, an original thought, a laugh, a joke, DIY, Painting, writing, not acting a certain way. Whatever it is. It happens every day and some of it is pretty extra-ordinary.
Lets take today as an example. It wasn't an incredible day but it was a good one. Why? Well because it was simple and fun.
It Started off with a meeting and then coffee with a couple of pals. Subjects covered during the breakfast included paedophilia, racism, Chelsea FC, Jimmy Saville, Amercian TV dramas, gossip and interval training. Not bad by 10am. I like that. Lesson learnt? I have two ears and one mouth for a reason. I learnt that Chelsea fans chanting to Nani in midweek, 'you're just a shit Michael Jackson' is genuinely funny.
This was followed by a lovely trot around Richmond Park & the Thames marvelling at the winter colours and emptying trees. I learnt that I actually live in a great place and I love the view from Richmond hill. There is nothing like space and expanse to clear the mind.
Then it was to one of my oldest friends 40th birthday party. The kids shift was from 3-7pm, so I arrived at 7.01pm, just as they were going to bed. Perfect timing.
The house was decked in 40th balloons, bunting, cake, food, people everywhere. It was ace. I saw some friends with their brand new 4 week old baby. The father is a truly lovely man. A great big man with a tiny baby, making the economies of scale rather amusing. He doted on his boy and you could tell he will make an excellent father. He's a good guy and you could see how happy he was. Nice moment. He also told me a story about the birth I think is world class.
It was a difficult birth and the chord was wrapped around the baby's neck. The doctors were worried and it looked touch and go. Everyone was concerned. After a few hours it was getting critical, so the doctor pulled the father aside and said;
Doctor - "We're getting concerned if the baby will come out, what do you want us to do?"
At which point my pal did the best reply I've ever heard; He said;
Father - "Listen Doc, I'm a carpenter, If your front door is fucked I'm your man, but I haven't a clue about childbirth so why are you asking me? Your'e the expert what do you suggest?"
Doctor - "I suggest we get him out"
Father - "There you go then. Do it"
Brilliant. I love that so much. Humility and humour in one worried exchange. They got the little fella out and all was well. They looked ultra happy. It was great to see.
There were so many old friends I hadn't seen for ages and it was great to catch up. One of them (I shan't give names as it's not for me to blow their anonymity) is a 36 year old man. He's Married to a lovely girl and they make an awesome couple. I love them very much. They raised an interesting topic and one I will explore in greater detail this week.
He works in fashion with loads of beautiful people and was pulled aside by his boss recently for a 'word'. Clearly worried he may have done something wring or god forbid his job was in jeopardy. He went into his boss' office with trepidation.
'Sit down', he was told. 'I've got something to tell you'. He feared the worst and braced himself. 'Those boots you're wearing. They've got to go. And your style. It's awful. You need to get a new one. You don't fit in. Go and look at Gary Barlow. His style is something you should consider'.
Clearly shocked and devastated by this brutal comment, he left for the day clearly wondering if this was valid. He got home to his wife and asked her if his style was outdated in his 20's. She basically said 'Yes'. 'I've been on at you for years'. Finally it took someone of authority to help him change his style.
He immediately threw away 70% of his wardrobe (or for single men out there, Floordrobe) and as he lived in Buckinghamshire, was immediately christened, Gary Marlow. A brilliant creation and one I think is truly funny.
It brought up a big debate we had about men's style and reaching a certain age. It seems that a few of the boys are having a crisis of style now that they are mid 30's and 40. I will explore this in great detail. Though clearly I'm on dangerous ground seeing as my style of aging failed rock star with tight jeans and cowboys boots is one that some people find ridiculous (which I do deep down but am enjoying it until I get old and have to go down the Chino route)
But it is something that clearly affects alot of men of a partiucular age, so we shall revisit the Gary Marlow theme in the week. I like that alot.
The party went on at a sedate pace. People drifted off with various baby paraphernalia, kids were put to bed, adults came out to play. It was chilled and great to hang out and talk shit with proper friends. Proper people until the early hours.
Two things caught my eye and made me laugh. Firstly was a good pal of mine who had an Afro, but had a dilemma. He had just landed a big corporate contract with the Daily Mail, so was toying with the idea of 'going corporate' and getting his haircut. He was undecided. Whilst he welcomed the business he still wanted that freedom of the surf dude look he so loved, even though the general opinion was that he looked more like Billy the Fish or a traveller.
After the 6th shot of sambuca he was convinced by his peers the hair had to go. So he said to another friend.(he had just met that night) who happened to be a make up artist. 'can you do my hair?' It was 1am, they were all drunk. So of course she said, 'sure'.
And so followed a very funny scene of the haircutting. Firstly they couldn't find a comb, then some scissors that were sharp enough. They did a few more shots in the meantime whilst the equipment was found. Then when they were ready, the immortal line was said that I would so love to hear in hair salons up and down the land, "Do you both want another shot before you start." Superb. They did.
Incredibly the haircut came out OK. Incredible seeing as the girl cutting it was seeing double. It was clearly a fluke but he still had his ears left in tact so all was groovy. Drunken hairdressing is clearly the way forward. He looked magnificent.
The final line of the day was spoken by the host. After one of the dads went up to check on the children and take them for a mid night pee, one of the young girls was being potty trained and was in a habit of peeing the bed. They were directly above another of the dad's children in the bunk beds.
This led to the other immortal line from a concerned Dad. "Is your daughter pissing on my daughter." I don't need to add to that, just a line I rarley hear and one which caused huge mirth all round.
It was A great night, back late and so funny to catch up with old friends. A fun night had by all and Gary Marlow is a touch of genius
Oh, I was also going to talk about acceptance, but this is such a long blog today you're probably losing the will to live by now and want to go out and watch Bond or to shops and get dinner. So I'll leave you on a wonderful quote about acceptance, a topic I shall cover in the week. It's pretty apt after the comments this week. I love this quote and one I certainly need to take notice of and do every day
Loving everyone big time.
And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation - some fact of my life - unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I can accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.
Bye for now
xx
Then, when I found out I wasn''t that clever or spectacularly amazing and profound and original I decided to get drunk instead. After all everyone who I deemed interesting were drunks, so I figured If I can't match them for talent I could match them for drinks. It was a flawed plan.
Now I don't drink my view has changed. I still think/know I'm not a precocious exceptional talent. I still know I'm not an intellectual or original heavyweight. Preferring Ronaldo to Rimbaud. But that's OK today. I've accepted it. I'll leave all the heavyweight intellectual debates to what my father would have called 'the clever bastards'. I accept my limitations, not that it is a negative thing but it's important to be who you are. Attempting to be something else just ends in failure and Scrambled Egg on your face. (or Poached, boiled, fried depending on your personal taste)
What I have learnt is the meaning of life IS in the every day. Yes of course it is important and valid to read, to learn other cultures, thoughts, beliefs, ways of living. The cataloging of my everyday mundanity is an ideal medium to highlight the extra-ordinary. It is so easy to miss in every day life. When i am reminded of this I realise everything I need to learn about life surrounds me every day. It's just that someday I choose not to see it. If I'm in ego and self centred thinking how can i actually see what is happening to the world around me? Someone being kind, an act of generosity, an original thought, a laugh, a joke, DIY, Painting, writing, not acting a certain way. Whatever it is. It happens every day and some of it is pretty extra-ordinary.
Lets take today as an example. It wasn't an incredible day but it was a good one. Why? Well because it was simple and fun.
It Started off with a meeting and then coffee with a couple of pals. Subjects covered during the breakfast included paedophilia, racism, Chelsea FC, Jimmy Saville, Amercian TV dramas, gossip and interval training. Not bad by 10am. I like that. Lesson learnt? I have two ears and one mouth for a reason. I learnt that Chelsea fans chanting to Nani in midweek, 'you're just a shit Michael Jackson' is genuinely funny.
This was followed by a lovely trot around Richmond Park & the Thames marvelling at the winter colours and emptying trees. I learnt that I actually live in a great place and I love the view from Richmond hill. There is nothing like space and expanse to clear the mind.
Then it was to one of my oldest friends 40th birthday party. The kids shift was from 3-7pm, so I arrived at 7.01pm, just as they were going to bed. Perfect timing.
The house was decked in 40th balloons, bunting, cake, food, people everywhere. It was ace. I saw some friends with their brand new 4 week old baby. The father is a truly lovely man. A great big man with a tiny baby, making the economies of scale rather amusing. He doted on his boy and you could tell he will make an excellent father. He's a good guy and you could see how happy he was. Nice moment. He also told me a story about the birth I think is world class.
It was a difficult birth and the chord was wrapped around the baby's neck. The doctors were worried and it looked touch and go. Everyone was concerned. After a few hours it was getting critical, so the doctor pulled the father aside and said;
Doctor - "We're getting concerned if the baby will come out, what do you want us to do?"
At which point my pal did the best reply I've ever heard; He said;
Father - "Listen Doc, I'm a carpenter, If your front door is fucked I'm your man, but I haven't a clue about childbirth so why are you asking me? Your'e the expert what do you suggest?"
Doctor - "I suggest we get him out"
Father - "There you go then. Do it"
Brilliant. I love that so much. Humility and humour in one worried exchange. They got the little fella out and all was well. They looked ultra happy. It was great to see.
There were so many old friends I hadn't seen for ages and it was great to catch up. One of them (I shan't give names as it's not for me to blow their anonymity) is a 36 year old man. He's Married to a lovely girl and they make an awesome couple. I love them very much. They raised an interesting topic and one I will explore in greater detail this week.
He works in fashion with loads of beautiful people and was pulled aside by his boss recently for a 'word'. Clearly worried he may have done something wring or god forbid his job was in jeopardy. He went into his boss' office with trepidation.
'Sit down', he was told. 'I've got something to tell you'. He feared the worst and braced himself. 'Those boots you're wearing. They've got to go. And your style. It's awful. You need to get a new one. You don't fit in. Go and look at Gary Barlow. His style is something you should consider'.
Clearly shocked and devastated by this brutal comment, he left for the day clearly wondering if this was valid. He got home to his wife and asked her if his style was outdated in his 20's. She basically said 'Yes'. 'I've been on at you for years'. Finally it took someone of authority to help him change his style.
He immediately threw away 70% of his wardrobe (or for single men out there, Floordrobe) and as he lived in Buckinghamshire, was immediately christened, Gary Marlow. A brilliant creation and one I think is truly funny.
It brought up a big debate we had about men's style and reaching a certain age. It seems that a few of the boys are having a crisis of style now that they are mid 30's and 40. I will explore this in great detail. Though clearly I'm on dangerous ground seeing as my style of aging failed rock star with tight jeans and cowboys boots is one that some people find ridiculous (which I do deep down but am enjoying it until I get old and have to go down the Chino route)
But it is something that clearly affects alot of men of a partiucular age, so we shall revisit the Gary Marlow theme in the week. I like that alot.
The party went on at a sedate pace. People drifted off with various baby paraphernalia, kids were put to bed, adults came out to play. It was chilled and great to hang out and talk shit with proper friends. Proper people until the early hours.
Two things caught my eye and made me laugh. Firstly was a good pal of mine who had an Afro, but had a dilemma. He had just landed a big corporate contract with the Daily Mail, so was toying with the idea of 'going corporate' and getting his haircut. He was undecided. Whilst he welcomed the business he still wanted that freedom of the surf dude look he so loved, even though the general opinion was that he looked more like Billy the Fish or a traveller.
After the 6th shot of sambuca he was convinced by his peers the hair had to go. So he said to another friend.(he had just met that night) who happened to be a make up artist. 'can you do my hair?' It was 1am, they were all drunk. So of course she said, 'sure'.
And so followed a very funny scene of the haircutting. Firstly they couldn't find a comb, then some scissors that were sharp enough. They did a few more shots in the meantime whilst the equipment was found. Then when they were ready, the immortal line was said that I would so love to hear in hair salons up and down the land, "Do you both want another shot before you start." Superb. They did.
Incredibly the haircut came out OK. Incredible seeing as the girl cutting it was seeing double. It was clearly a fluke but he still had his ears left in tact so all was groovy. Drunken hairdressing is clearly the way forward. He looked magnificent.
The final line of the day was spoken by the host. After one of the dads went up to check on the children and take them for a mid night pee, one of the young girls was being potty trained and was in a habit of peeing the bed. They were directly above another of the dad's children in the bunk beds.
This led to the other immortal line from a concerned Dad. "Is your daughter pissing on my daughter." I don't need to add to that, just a line I rarley hear and one which caused huge mirth all round.
It was A great night, back late and so funny to catch up with old friends. A fun night had by all and Gary Marlow is a touch of genius
Oh, I was also going to talk about acceptance, but this is such a long blog today you're probably losing the will to live by now and want to go out and watch Bond or to shops and get dinner. So I'll leave you on a wonderful quote about acceptance, a topic I shall cover in the week. It's pretty apt after the comments this week. I love this quote and one I certainly need to take notice of and do every day
Loving everyone big time.
And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation - some fact of my life - unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I can accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.
Bye for now
xx
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Day 293 - Fri 2nd November - Day after night before
Ever thought of the soundtrack to your life? I know I'm not in a good space when I don't listen to music. When I have music it is considerably richer. It made me contemplate the music to mine.
All I could come up with so far was 'You're so vain' by Carly Simon. I'll work out the rest soon but I reckon that about covers it.
At the moment I'm addicted to 4 tracks. Playing them continuously. Obviously the new James Bond film is out, so I'm listening to a bit of Bond. Top 3 Bond tracks?
Live and let Die - Wings - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sn8alMYSu44 (my favourite Bond film ever. The Roger Mooreosourous in his prime with Solitaire. Bang on)
Nobody Does It Better - Carly Simon - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNA7DcVppEs
Diamonds are Forever - The Bassey - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTIu_wwxkQI
Then my 4th track I'm addicted to (listened to it 18 times today so far)
In a Heartbeat - John Murphy (Soundtrack on 28 days later) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST2H8FWDvEA - What a track.
Bit of a slow day after comedy, that and litres of diet coke, cigarettes and stress of course doesn't help.
The anonymous commentators have been at it again. The 'Ex alcoholic' (I'll come onto that term later as it amuses me) and a new one who clearly shows signs of being one (seeing as they described my meetings as full of neurotics and moaners - clearly someone who used to go or needs to) All good stuff. The new one decided to assasinate me which caused me considerable mirth seeing as they were so wildly inaccurate. It was beautifully both ignorant and arrogant at the same time. An impressive combination.
Firstly lets deal with the topic if putting a blog up publicly meaning you are fair game for abuse & criticism. On reflection this is quite right. If I write so publicly every day then I can't complain if some of the comments are nasty. I'm not after having smoke blown up my ass or praise. Obviously good comments are nice and gives you a little boost by the same token nasty ones always smart a little & make you question yourself.
This is new territory for me so I'm learning. It is little use getting into arguments or slagging matches or trying to 'win' an argument with a faceless anonymous person. We are all different with our own personalities, characteristics, beliefs and insecurities. Some deal with them in other ways. Live and let live is probably the best moto I can live my life by. It's just a massive waste of time getting into petty points scoring. Even though my ego is desperate to be right. So yes I am fair game for abuse. I can accept that and it's good to learn these things.
Secondly lets deal with the term 'ex alcoholic'. What a peculiar phrase. People can describe themselves however they want, say what they want. Live like they want. I have no beef with that. But for me 'ex alcoholic' is odd.
I am a firm believer in once an alcoholic always an alcoholic. Alcoholism is generally in people not bottles. If one thing I have learnt throughout my life and from bitter personal family experience alcoholism has very little to do with drinking. Take alcohol away from an alcoholic they are still an alcoholic. They think like one, act like one, have an alcoholic personality. It is a disease of the mind and soul and untreated alcoholism even without booze is hugely destructive. In fact it can cause even more harm sometimes as there is no drunken drama but a 'dry drunk' can cause massive destruction.
I speak for myself that when I have been in my sobriety away from a 12 step programme, my thinking, behaviour and character defects really take off and tend to dominate my personality. I become arrogant, intolerant, bitchy, crabby, fearful, self piteous and angry. (A bit like the 'ex alcoholic' who cheerful imparts their warped wisdom upon this 'little blog')
Basically my behaviour becomes ugly and the weird thing is I actually think I'm OK. In other words I'm blind to it. It's a very subtle form of insanity I constantly suffer from. Now I am not claiming it in a 'poor me' way as there are numerous awful diseases and conditions out there that are far worse. I have a solution when I choose to use it that helps to dampen down these rampant defects and makes me live life and become a normal member of the human race and society. it makes me useful rather than useless. Surely my role is to aim for that. It's what I would prefer to be.
But it really shows most people's ignorance to the disease of alcoholism. It's alcoholism not alcoholwasm. Most people miss that, which is why for me the term ex-alcoholic is just someone in denial of what they have and display all the characteristics of alcoholism. They to me are the most dangerous type of person as they are also sanctimonious and beyond any form of humility or approach. There is little to be gained in the way of dialogue. I have been there myself many time,s seen it with own members of my family and was raised by one throughout my childhood. it is a subject i am passionate about and for me, i guess there are no coincidences, so why has someone displaying all of these characteristics taken upon themselves to lay into me and my blog? If you spot it you've got it is the age old term and I think that's certainly the case.
Otherwise why would you engage in an intellectual argument on a blog. One could just read something and if they didn't like it then stop reading it and do something else. I identify with that vitriolic need to be heard, to be right, to belittle others to make myself feel superior. To boost my ego when underneath I'm struggling. It was my modus operandi when I was drinking and is something I find so easy to click back into when I veer away from a 12 step programme.
That's not to say that a 12 step programme is a straight jacket, or a brainwashed thing. It merely gives me freedom to be me and not live in my character defects every day. Trouble is a forget and lapse back into them almost on an hourly basis. Still I'm committed to the process of change. I'm prepared to accept I'm the problem. And as the daily reflections reading says on my birthday every year, which is a lovely reminder and sums me up;
"There is a long period of reconstruction that lies ahead." - I love that because it allows me to be imperfect and as long as I'm willing to change it means that eventually I will get there. The Americans call it 'slowbriety' which i love. It means it takes ages to turn around the big tanker of alcoholism and mould into something else. And even then you are not changed, it just means you tend not to live and act and think in your defects so much. At least thats what the wise old timers tell me and they have something I want so i believe them and keep going. Not a bad deal is it really?
If there was a disease sale. I'd pick alcoholism over others any day. There are some true horrors. I saw my Nan waste away to nothing from Cancer. I've seen people I know with severe mental illnesses and there are so many other awful things. I am so very fortunate to have something that although if untreated kills people (see my father for classic example) or can produce a life of misery, that if it's treated in a simple way on a daily basis, doesn't really affect anything or anyone and can become a normal ordinary member of the human race. I'll settle for that I think.
So this little alcoholic (although sober and not drinking I'm still an alcoholic) on this little blog says fire away commentators. If you think you're right then go for it. Be right. Be clever and score points and be intellectually superior and have a pop. It doesn't really matter does it? I mean who cares right? Who cares what I think? What you think? The sun's still going to come up and go down, the world still turns. Your life and head is your business. Mine is mine (although obviously like a right knob head I share it with you and the world by writing it in a public blog. Nick!)
What really counts is when you can look yourself in the mirror, feel in your heart. Did you do your best? Did you do a good thing today? Did you learn something? Did you show any humility? Did you help someone? Did you take stock of your own behaviour? Did you try to belittle someone? Were you OK? You know in your heart if your behaviour was off. If you did wrong, apologise and make amends. If you did right then give thanks and go again the next day. The real problem is when you don't even think any of that and thinjk you're right and everyone else is a wanker. Look under Insane in the dictionary for that one.
Bottom line is I'm pretty comfortable with me. Yes I've a long way to go. Many improvements to make. But is that not part of our human experience? Fuck me if we were all perfect like our anonymous public figure friend where would we have to go? To strive for? I'm enjoying writing. I'm not expecting anything grand I'm just finding it a fascinating process. The comments this week have been enlightening. I admit they did shake my self confidence a little (it can be a little paper thin sometimes - bit thats just ego I got over it)
I have learnt some valuable lessons so thank you freaky weird bitter commentators. You can come again. Oh and my lesson? Don't stop going to meetings. If i do I may just turn into them.
Ok readers. Thanks for baring with me. I know it must have been dull to read a childish tit for tat argument online. And yes I was rather touchy and sensitive & pre-occupied this week. But hey, guess what? I'm human It's over now. They can write what they want, I'll get back to attempting some kind of humour tomorrow I promise. After all what is life without laughing at yourself? I lost that ability this week and took myself far too seriously. Christ I may aswell have changed my name to Donald Trump. Then again how can anyone take themsleves too seriously with that hair.
Have a tidy weekend. Me love you long time
xx
xx
All I could come up with so far was 'You're so vain' by Carly Simon. I'll work out the rest soon but I reckon that about covers it.
At the moment I'm addicted to 4 tracks. Playing them continuously. Obviously the new James Bond film is out, so I'm listening to a bit of Bond. Top 3 Bond tracks?
Live and let Die - Wings - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sn8alMYSu44 (my favourite Bond film ever. The Roger Mooreosourous in his prime with Solitaire. Bang on)
Nobody Does It Better - Carly Simon - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNA7DcVppEs
Diamonds are Forever - The Bassey - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTIu_wwxkQI
Then my 4th track I'm addicted to (listened to it 18 times today so far)
In a Heartbeat - John Murphy (Soundtrack on 28 days later) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST2H8FWDvEA - What a track.
Bit of a slow day after comedy, that and litres of diet coke, cigarettes and stress of course doesn't help.
The anonymous commentators have been at it again. The 'Ex alcoholic' (I'll come onto that term later as it amuses me) and a new one who clearly shows signs of being one (seeing as they described my meetings as full of neurotics and moaners - clearly someone who used to go or needs to) All good stuff. The new one decided to assasinate me which caused me considerable mirth seeing as they were so wildly inaccurate. It was beautifully both ignorant and arrogant at the same time. An impressive combination.
Firstly lets deal with the topic if putting a blog up publicly meaning you are fair game for abuse & criticism. On reflection this is quite right. If I write so publicly every day then I can't complain if some of the comments are nasty. I'm not after having smoke blown up my ass or praise. Obviously good comments are nice and gives you a little boost by the same token nasty ones always smart a little & make you question yourself.
This is new territory for me so I'm learning. It is little use getting into arguments or slagging matches or trying to 'win' an argument with a faceless anonymous person. We are all different with our own personalities, characteristics, beliefs and insecurities. Some deal with them in other ways. Live and let live is probably the best moto I can live my life by. It's just a massive waste of time getting into petty points scoring. Even though my ego is desperate to be right. So yes I am fair game for abuse. I can accept that and it's good to learn these things.
Secondly lets deal with the term 'ex alcoholic'. What a peculiar phrase. People can describe themselves however they want, say what they want. Live like they want. I have no beef with that. But for me 'ex alcoholic' is odd.
I am a firm believer in once an alcoholic always an alcoholic. Alcoholism is generally in people not bottles. If one thing I have learnt throughout my life and from bitter personal family experience alcoholism has very little to do with drinking. Take alcohol away from an alcoholic they are still an alcoholic. They think like one, act like one, have an alcoholic personality. It is a disease of the mind and soul and untreated alcoholism even without booze is hugely destructive. In fact it can cause even more harm sometimes as there is no drunken drama but a 'dry drunk' can cause massive destruction.
I speak for myself that when I have been in my sobriety away from a 12 step programme, my thinking, behaviour and character defects really take off and tend to dominate my personality. I become arrogant, intolerant, bitchy, crabby, fearful, self piteous and angry. (A bit like the 'ex alcoholic' who cheerful imparts their warped wisdom upon this 'little blog')
Basically my behaviour becomes ugly and the weird thing is I actually think I'm OK. In other words I'm blind to it. It's a very subtle form of insanity I constantly suffer from. Now I am not claiming it in a 'poor me' way as there are numerous awful diseases and conditions out there that are far worse. I have a solution when I choose to use it that helps to dampen down these rampant defects and makes me live life and become a normal member of the human race and society. it makes me useful rather than useless. Surely my role is to aim for that. It's what I would prefer to be.
But it really shows most people's ignorance to the disease of alcoholism. It's alcoholism not alcoholwasm. Most people miss that, which is why for me the term ex-alcoholic is just someone in denial of what they have and display all the characteristics of alcoholism. They to me are the most dangerous type of person as they are also sanctimonious and beyond any form of humility or approach. There is little to be gained in the way of dialogue. I have been there myself many time,s seen it with own members of my family and was raised by one throughout my childhood. it is a subject i am passionate about and for me, i guess there are no coincidences, so why has someone displaying all of these characteristics taken upon themselves to lay into me and my blog? If you spot it you've got it is the age old term and I think that's certainly the case.
Otherwise why would you engage in an intellectual argument on a blog. One could just read something and if they didn't like it then stop reading it and do something else. I identify with that vitriolic need to be heard, to be right, to belittle others to make myself feel superior. To boost my ego when underneath I'm struggling. It was my modus operandi when I was drinking and is something I find so easy to click back into when I veer away from a 12 step programme.
That's not to say that a 12 step programme is a straight jacket, or a brainwashed thing. It merely gives me freedom to be me and not live in my character defects every day. Trouble is a forget and lapse back into them almost on an hourly basis. Still I'm committed to the process of change. I'm prepared to accept I'm the problem. And as the daily reflections reading says on my birthday every year, which is a lovely reminder and sums me up;
"There is a long period of reconstruction that lies ahead." - I love that because it allows me to be imperfect and as long as I'm willing to change it means that eventually I will get there. The Americans call it 'slowbriety' which i love. It means it takes ages to turn around the big tanker of alcoholism and mould into something else. And even then you are not changed, it just means you tend not to live and act and think in your defects so much. At least thats what the wise old timers tell me and they have something I want so i believe them and keep going. Not a bad deal is it really?
If there was a disease sale. I'd pick alcoholism over others any day. There are some true horrors. I saw my Nan waste away to nothing from Cancer. I've seen people I know with severe mental illnesses and there are so many other awful things. I am so very fortunate to have something that although if untreated kills people (see my father for classic example) or can produce a life of misery, that if it's treated in a simple way on a daily basis, doesn't really affect anything or anyone and can become a normal ordinary member of the human race. I'll settle for that I think.
So this little alcoholic (although sober and not drinking I'm still an alcoholic) on this little blog says fire away commentators. If you think you're right then go for it. Be right. Be clever and score points and be intellectually superior and have a pop. It doesn't really matter does it? I mean who cares right? Who cares what I think? What you think? The sun's still going to come up and go down, the world still turns. Your life and head is your business. Mine is mine (although obviously like a right knob head I share it with you and the world by writing it in a public blog. Nick!)
What really counts is when you can look yourself in the mirror, feel in your heart. Did you do your best? Did you do a good thing today? Did you learn something? Did you show any humility? Did you help someone? Did you take stock of your own behaviour? Did you try to belittle someone? Were you OK? You know in your heart if your behaviour was off. If you did wrong, apologise and make amends. If you did right then give thanks and go again the next day. The real problem is when you don't even think any of that and thinjk you're right and everyone else is a wanker. Look under Insane in the dictionary for that one.
Bottom line is I'm pretty comfortable with me. Yes I've a long way to go. Many improvements to make. But is that not part of our human experience? Fuck me if we were all perfect like our anonymous public figure friend where would we have to go? To strive for? I'm enjoying writing. I'm not expecting anything grand I'm just finding it a fascinating process. The comments this week have been enlightening. I admit they did shake my self confidence a little (it can be a little paper thin sometimes - bit thats just ego I got over it)
I have learnt some valuable lessons so thank you freaky weird bitter commentators. You can come again. Oh and my lesson? Don't stop going to meetings. If i do I may just turn into them.
Ok readers. Thanks for baring with me. I know it must have been dull to read a childish tit for tat argument online. And yes I was rather touchy and sensitive & pre-occupied this week. But hey, guess what? I'm human It's over now. They can write what they want, I'll get back to attempting some kind of humour tomorrow I promise. After all what is life without laughing at yourself? I lost that ability this week and took myself far too seriously. Christ I may aswell have changed my name to Donald Trump. Then again how can anyone take themsleves too seriously with that hair.
Have a tidy weekend. Me love you long time
xx
xx
Friday, November 2, 2012
Day 292 - Thurs 1st November - Comedy & Blog Banter
If today was a football match I won against the run of play. If today was a boxing match I would have won on points but only after bribing the judges. If today was a concert I would have won but needed lip syncing and recording equipment.
Point is today, or more specifically the comedy went well despite myself.
Obviously I didn't show any of this to the outside world. I was chatty, interested and upbeat, I showed no hint of any inner turmoil but inside knew I felt off, flat and anxious. More than usual on a comedy night.
I had World War III in my head but to the outside world I was calm & chilled. This blog lifts a lid on what you would never get to see usually. Who knows what goes on in people's heads when you meet them. This is what is in mine.
Blogger debate
There was a bit of banter flying around yesterday from a couple of anonymous readers. The 'public figure' laid in and gave a sanctimonious sermon on self pity. Clearly angered & frustrated by my inner negative dialogue they wrote a couple of scathing comments. All good fun. Of course the touchy bastard in me replied. Couldn't resist.
Then another anonymous joined in. Probably someone who used to go meetings after describing them as 'pathetic meetings attended by neurotics & moaners.' Blimey. Such hatred out there. This one must know me as they also suggested I ate a 'decent meal as I'm far too scrawny' and rather superbly to go on a dating site to get 'a girlfriend or boyfriend'. Brilliant.
Clearly I am Marmite. You like or hate. No in between.
They raised the point that 'I don't like it up me'. Spot on hence why i could never be gay. No offence but I really don't like it up me. Am I touchy? yes of course? Am I an attention seeker. Er Yes. Am I sensitive and hate criticism. Totally. I've never hidden that.
They said, 'remember if you put yourself out in the public domain expect some flak'. I guess I still have a rather Utopian and naive view that I never expected flak, nor did I realise putting myself out in the public domain means that I am fair game for it. I clearly didn't think it through. They certainly have a fair point and thanks for raising it.
Still fuck em. They clearly have got 2 triple cooked chips on each shoulder if they view me & AA as they described. One thing the anonymous commentators have proved from their comments. Resentment is the number 1 offender and really ugly. I must take note to work on mine. And yes I have a long way to go. Again something I have pointed out all along.
We are all works in progress. Jesus Christ I have never claimed to have it sorted, the answers or anything else but being a human being just like everyone else. Not special or different. Not above or below. Not anything other than someone putting my thoughts down every day.
I am shocked at the level of sarcastic hatred dripping from these comments. I never thought a simple daily blog could bring out such weird barbed comments. I should clearly develop a thicker skin. They should develop acceptance & a sense of humour.
Comedy Chops
There are 2 realities of what happened tonight.
1- Mine
2. What really happened.
Lets stick to the facts.
A success. A packed house. Room layout was great. I think around 55-60 turned up. Just shy of the capacity of the 02 but small acorns and all that.
I was thankful for the first act turning up early, as this technological dip shit here couldn't get the sound system to work. Panicking as the room filled up. I considered having to cancel. Then when I asked the 1st act to help out. He took 2 cables and did something hugely technological. He plugged them into 2 holes in the back of the PA. 40 frigging minutes i had spent panicking and missing those sodding holes. It worked immediately. I am officially a dunce.
Despite my head and off colour performance (Not that anyone noticed. I did though) the evening went well. A comedy night is determined by the quality of acts not the MC (even I know that) and the acts were good. First one struggled a bit but it is always hard up top to get a crowd going but he was funny.
Then the 2nd act really tore the gaff up. The Rayguns are Real Enough. A comedy rock band who were superb. Clearly what the evening was crying out for was a hairy man dressed in a tiger suit jacking up cream, downing pints of milk in one whilst singing Blackbox 'Ride on Time'. They were class.
The final act Ava Vidal was excellent. Sarcastic but gentle in delivery but ultra accomplished and some great material about her kids. Hilarious.
They were superb and it's always great to see a packed house of different types of people locked into someones set. it's an art form I truly admire particularly when the comedian is trying to say something. I genuinely admire them and it is a pleasure to watch them close up.
Strangely most of them are neurotic beforehand and then spend ages afterwards caning themselves. 'Did it go OK', 'Was I good'. I identify with that mindset but you just plough on.
What of the MC? Despite world war 3 in the head, terrific fear, anxiety, low self esteem and inner negative dialogue I got up in front of 60 people and bantered with them, welcomed them, made them feel at home and without setting the world on fire not one of them would have known how I was feeling inside, so it was a success. The evening went well and apparently I run a successful monthly comedy club and all the acts say what a great set up and what a unique lovely club it is.
Also a couple of people I know came for the 1st time expecting it to be a bit pants probably but genuinely surprised by how good the night is. That is gratifying.
Highlights that will stay with me? the brilliant Kiwi drunk in the front row sleeping through the band and then staggering home early. I can feel his blackout already. The weird drunk woman who kept on shouting out random words like 'Wandsworth' and 'Boom'. Odd. The large table of 20 something year old celebrating a birthday who i was encouraging to drink sambucas, Jaegerbombs, swore incessantly at the and encouraged them to have group sex, only afterwards talking to them to find out they were a table full of Christians. Nice one Nick. Still at least my observation they looked like they were at the last supper was reasonably accurate.
The undoubted highlight were the Realguns and a kiwi girl in the front row. It's certainly not often you get to see a really hairy man in a Tiger suit serenade a girl with a George Michael song whilst she's stroking his fur in front of a room full of 60 strangers. That's what Comedy Chops is all about. I like it
xx
Point is today, or more specifically the comedy went well despite myself.
Obviously I didn't show any of this to the outside world. I was chatty, interested and upbeat, I showed no hint of any inner turmoil but inside knew I felt off, flat and anxious. More than usual on a comedy night.
I had World War III in my head but to the outside world I was calm & chilled. This blog lifts a lid on what you would never get to see usually. Who knows what goes on in people's heads when you meet them. This is what is in mine.
Blogger debate
There was a bit of banter flying around yesterday from a couple of anonymous readers. The 'public figure' laid in and gave a sanctimonious sermon on self pity. Clearly angered & frustrated by my inner negative dialogue they wrote a couple of scathing comments. All good fun. Of course the touchy bastard in me replied. Couldn't resist.
Then another anonymous joined in. Probably someone who used to go meetings after describing them as 'pathetic meetings attended by neurotics & moaners.' Blimey. Such hatred out there. This one must know me as they also suggested I ate a 'decent meal as I'm far too scrawny' and rather superbly to go on a dating site to get 'a girlfriend or boyfriend'. Brilliant.
Clearly I am Marmite. You like or hate. No in between.
They raised the point that 'I don't like it up me'. Spot on hence why i could never be gay. No offence but I really don't like it up me. Am I touchy? yes of course? Am I an attention seeker. Er Yes. Am I sensitive and hate criticism. Totally. I've never hidden that.
They said, 'remember if you put yourself out in the public domain expect some flak'. I guess I still have a rather Utopian and naive view that I never expected flak, nor did I realise putting myself out in the public domain means that I am fair game for it. I clearly didn't think it through. They certainly have a fair point and thanks for raising it.
Still fuck em. They clearly have got 2 triple cooked chips on each shoulder if they view me & AA as they described. One thing the anonymous commentators have proved from their comments. Resentment is the number 1 offender and really ugly. I must take note to work on mine. And yes I have a long way to go. Again something I have pointed out all along.
We are all works in progress. Jesus Christ I have never claimed to have it sorted, the answers or anything else but being a human being just like everyone else. Not special or different. Not above or below. Not anything other than someone putting my thoughts down every day.
I am shocked at the level of sarcastic hatred dripping from these comments. I never thought a simple daily blog could bring out such weird barbed comments. I should clearly develop a thicker skin. They should develop acceptance & a sense of humour.
Comedy Chops
There are 2 realities of what happened tonight.
1- Mine
2. What really happened.
Lets stick to the facts.
A success. A packed house. Room layout was great. I think around 55-60 turned up. Just shy of the capacity of the 02 but small acorns and all that.
I was thankful for the first act turning up early, as this technological dip shit here couldn't get the sound system to work. Panicking as the room filled up. I considered having to cancel. Then when I asked the 1st act to help out. He took 2 cables and did something hugely technological. He plugged them into 2 holes in the back of the PA. 40 frigging minutes i had spent panicking and missing those sodding holes. It worked immediately. I am officially a dunce.
Despite my head and off colour performance (Not that anyone noticed. I did though) the evening went well. A comedy night is determined by the quality of acts not the MC (even I know that) and the acts were good. First one struggled a bit but it is always hard up top to get a crowd going but he was funny.
Then the 2nd act really tore the gaff up. The Rayguns are Real Enough. A comedy rock band who were superb. Clearly what the evening was crying out for was a hairy man dressed in a tiger suit jacking up cream, downing pints of milk in one whilst singing Blackbox 'Ride on Time'. They were class.
The final act Ava Vidal was excellent. Sarcastic but gentle in delivery but ultra accomplished and some great material about her kids. Hilarious.
They were superb and it's always great to see a packed house of different types of people locked into someones set. it's an art form I truly admire particularly when the comedian is trying to say something. I genuinely admire them and it is a pleasure to watch them close up.
Strangely most of them are neurotic beforehand and then spend ages afterwards caning themselves. 'Did it go OK', 'Was I good'. I identify with that mindset but you just plough on.
What of the MC? Despite world war 3 in the head, terrific fear, anxiety, low self esteem and inner negative dialogue I got up in front of 60 people and bantered with them, welcomed them, made them feel at home and without setting the world on fire not one of them would have known how I was feeling inside, so it was a success. The evening went well and apparently I run a successful monthly comedy club and all the acts say what a great set up and what a unique lovely club it is.
Also a couple of people I know came for the 1st time expecting it to be a bit pants probably but genuinely surprised by how good the night is. That is gratifying.
Highlights that will stay with me? the brilliant Kiwi drunk in the front row sleeping through the band and then staggering home early. I can feel his blackout already. The weird drunk woman who kept on shouting out random words like 'Wandsworth' and 'Boom'. Odd. The large table of 20 something year old celebrating a birthday who i was encouraging to drink sambucas, Jaegerbombs, swore incessantly at the and encouraged them to have group sex, only afterwards talking to them to find out they were a table full of Christians. Nice one Nick. Still at least my observation they looked like they were at the last supper was reasonably accurate.
The undoubted highlight were the Realguns and a kiwi girl in the front row. It's certainly not often you get to see a really hairy man in a Tiger suit serenade a girl with a George Michael song whilst she's stroking his fur in front of a room full of 60 strangers. That's what Comedy Chops is all about. I like it
xx
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Day 291 - Weds 30th Oct - The Ire of the Mystery Anonymous Reader
You can't please all the people all the time. Someone left a couple of shitty comments after yesterday's entry, (immediately deleted) which pissed me off.
Have you ever felt low, self absorbed, angry, pissed off, unsatisfied, sorry for yourself at any time in your life ? If so, when you next feel shitty. Write down exactly what's in your head and then reread it. Nasty viewing huh? Like it came from someone else. That's exactly what yesterday's blog was. It doesn't define me or my life. It was a snapshot in time. But in the interests of making this blog credible I didn't edit or gloss over my feelings. If nothing else it's got to be honest what I'm like on that particular day, even hour. If I'm at my self absorbed & negative worst. It's going in.
If I'm feeling a little self absorbed, down and off beat this week. So what?
The cunt who left a comment saying I sounded like a wining girl and to 'man up' & 'get a grip' and that 'I am a pathetic little talker not walker' is a prick. I'm allowed to say those things about myself they're not. I'd love them to leave such helpful comments to people with depression or mental illness. 'Get a grip', or 'pull yourself together' no doubt is their attitude. They probably read the Daily Mail aswell.
They show a complete lack of understanding or irony. Again they suggested going to Help the Aged to get out of self obsession. I believe it's the same person who took offence at my talking about masturbation, wanking and other male bodily habits. Oh my god it's clearly someone lamenting the loss of Points of View and instead of sending narrow minded right wing unfunny hysterical letters to the BBC they have taken to leaving semi abusive comments on this blog instead.
My advice. Go and read Heat magazine or fuck off to Help the Aged you're so widely concerned with me helping. I'm sorry did you not read my entries form Jan, Feb,March, April, May, June & July?
Did you not read me helping someone through a horrific relapse over a period of weeks? Did you not read about me doing the London marathon for Action on Addiction and raising £3k? Did you not read about helping my family through the protracted illness and death of the matriarch, my Grandmother. You didn't read the Eulogy I gave, or indeed the person who went to AA to do something about their drinking after reading this 'wining girl blog'
Oh sorry but you must have missed the people sending comments saying they to feel down, depressed, shitty, life is hard or it's just great to read someone willing to risk sounding like a wining girl to expose their negative thinking. It gives people permission to air their own insecurities and think, 'it's OK not to be perfect'.
No I bet you didn't you anonymous fuck. Either man up yourself and lay your fucking credentials down on the table as to how much of a great textbook human being you are, or fuck the fuck off you fucking fuck (Thank god for my English Degree. Dr Donaldson would be so proud)
Dr Evans prescribes a long look in the mirror before casting judgments. I should know as I have made judgments so many times on people when a) I was totally wrong and b) I didn't have my own house in order. When I do that I'm on very dangerous moral ground.
I suppose I can't complain. If i put it out there in the open I am fair game for dodgy comments. I shouldn't be so sensitive. But when you feel low and bare your soul only to get a gutless arrogant little comment it annoys me.
Who the fuck are they? And who's worse. Me for writing like a wining girl or the knobhead who actually spends time in their day reading it in order to send in a superior scathing comment. No doubt it's someone who doesn't like me. I suggest they get a bit of God and acceptance in their life. Either that or go and get laid. It's clear they are dryer than the Middle East.
How can someone bother to send a comment criticising my character based out of a daily blog? I write with tongue firmly in my cheek. Play up to a characteristic and then exaggerate to make the writing process more vivid. Are they that stupid and humourless they can't see it. They clearly went on Jim'll Fix it Years ago and got more than they bargained for. How's about that then guys and gals?
Grip taken today. £2 was given to trick or Treaters tonight. I dare not say trick in Hounslow otherwise I wouldn't have had any slate left on my roof or wheels on my car. Still at least the kids made an effort wearing skeleton masks, though it may have been malnutrition from the lack of vegetables in their diet. I couldn't tell. It was dark.
It was also a full moon, which always makes people a little loopy. 7-5 to Arsenal against Reading in the league Cup is all the evidence you need.
And so another month closes. Can you really believe it is November already? It seems like yesterday it was the Olympics. Now we're gearing up for Christmas. Scary.
Hurricane Sandy has blown itself out. 60 people dead in the Caribbean and 33 in USA & Canada. 3 minutes TV coverage of the Caribbean in the past 3 days & 1 newspaper column. Wall to wall coverage and front page news in all newspapers for New York & USA. Seems a little unbalanced to me.
The strange thing is after the Japanese Tsunami & all the disaster movies we are a little de-sensitised to pictures of devastation. The media warned that it would be Armageddon. really? Well I've seen it all before. 'Armagedon','Independance Day' & '2012' have already been there.
It was bad of course and for the 90 odd people who lost their lives in it and to their families, it's tragic. God bless them.
But was it really worthy of all that media coverage? Transport system shut down, power cuts, roads not passable and raw sewage on the streets. Sounds a little like Hounslow to me.
Anyway it's Comedy Chops tomorrow. I have felt so disconnected and out of sorts recently that I've done no writing or planning for this one. It will be a case of turn up on the day and winging it. My goal for tomorrow is to try and keep my smoking under 100 and diet coke consumption under 5 litres. The fear and anxiety tends to take off on comedy night.
Still to comfort myself I can always turn to my mystery commentator & read their gentle words of encouragement and human kinship. Thank you for reading. Thank you for commentating. I apologise for being rude and angry and abusive in this blog but sometimes some of us are not perfect human beings. One can only strive for such magnificence the mystery reader clearly has.
gggrrrrrr
xx
Have you ever felt low, self absorbed, angry, pissed off, unsatisfied, sorry for yourself at any time in your life ? If so, when you next feel shitty. Write down exactly what's in your head and then reread it. Nasty viewing huh? Like it came from someone else. That's exactly what yesterday's blog was. It doesn't define me or my life. It was a snapshot in time. But in the interests of making this blog credible I didn't edit or gloss over my feelings. If nothing else it's got to be honest what I'm like on that particular day, even hour. If I'm at my self absorbed & negative worst. It's going in.
If I'm feeling a little self absorbed, down and off beat this week. So what?
The cunt who left a comment saying I sounded like a wining girl and to 'man up' & 'get a grip' and that 'I am a pathetic little talker not walker' is a prick. I'm allowed to say those things about myself they're not. I'd love them to leave such helpful comments to people with depression or mental illness. 'Get a grip', or 'pull yourself together' no doubt is their attitude. They probably read the Daily Mail aswell.
They show a complete lack of understanding or irony. Again they suggested going to Help the Aged to get out of self obsession. I believe it's the same person who took offence at my talking about masturbation, wanking and other male bodily habits. Oh my god it's clearly someone lamenting the loss of Points of View and instead of sending narrow minded right wing unfunny hysterical letters to the BBC they have taken to leaving semi abusive comments on this blog instead.
My advice. Go and read Heat magazine or fuck off to Help the Aged you're so widely concerned with me helping. I'm sorry did you not read my entries form Jan, Feb,March, April, May, June & July?
Did you not read me helping someone through a horrific relapse over a period of weeks? Did you not read about me doing the London marathon for Action on Addiction and raising £3k? Did you not read about helping my family through the protracted illness and death of the matriarch, my Grandmother. You didn't read the Eulogy I gave, or indeed the person who went to AA to do something about their drinking after reading this 'wining girl blog'
Oh sorry but you must have missed the people sending comments saying they to feel down, depressed, shitty, life is hard or it's just great to read someone willing to risk sounding like a wining girl to expose their negative thinking. It gives people permission to air their own insecurities and think, 'it's OK not to be perfect'.
No I bet you didn't you anonymous fuck. Either man up yourself and lay your fucking credentials down on the table as to how much of a great textbook human being you are, or fuck the fuck off you fucking fuck (Thank god for my English Degree. Dr Donaldson would be so proud)
Dr Evans prescribes a long look in the mirror before casting judgments. I should know as I have made judgments so many times on people when a) I was totally wrong and b) I didn't have my own house in order. When I do that I'm on very dangerous moral ground.
I suppose I can't complain. If i put it out there in the open I am fair game for dodgy comments. I shouldn't be so sensitive. But when you feel low and bare your soul only to get a gutless arrogant little comment it annoys me.
Who the fuck are they? And who's worse. Me for writing like a wining girl or the knobhead who actually spends time in their day reading it in order to send in a superior scathing comment. No doubt it's someone who doesn't like me. I suggest they get a bit of God and acceptance in their life. Either that or go and get laid. It's clear they are dryer than the Middle East.
How can someone bother to send a comment criticising my character based out of a daily blog? I write with tongue firmly in my cheek. Play up to a characteristic and then exaggerate to make the writing process more vivid. Are they that stupid and humourless they can't see it. They clearly went on Jim'll Fix it Years ago and got more than they bargained for. How's about that then guys and gals?
Grip taken today. £2 was given to trick or Treaters tonight. I dare not say trick in Hounslow otherwise I wouldn't have had any slate left on my roof or wheels on my car. Still at least the kids made an effort wearing skeleton masks, though it may have been malnutrition from the lack of vegetables in their diet. I couldn't tell. It was dark.
It was also a full moon, which always makes people a little loopy. 7-5 to Arsenal against Reading in the league Cup is all the evidence you need.
And so another month closes. Can you really believe it is November already? It seems like yesterday it was the Olympics. Now we're gearing up for Christmas. Scary.
Hurricane Sandy has blown itself out. 60 people dead in the Caribbean and 33 in USA & Canada. 3 minutes TV coverage of the Caribbean in the past 3 days & 1 newspaper column. Wall to wall coverage and front page news in all newspapers for New York & USA. Seems a little unbalanced to me.
The strange thing is after the Japanese Tsunami & all the disaster movies we are a little de-sensitised to pictures of devastation. The media warned that it would be Armageddon. really? Well I've seen it all before. 'Armagedon','Independance Day' & '2012' have already been there.
It was bad of course and for the 90 odd people who lost their lives in it and to their families, it's tragic. God bless them.
But was it really worthy of all that media coverage? Transport system shut down, power cuts, roads not passable and raw sewage on the streets. Sounds a little like Hounslow to me.
Anyway it's Comedy Chops tomorrow. I have felt so disconnected and out of sorts recently that I've done no writing or planning for this one. It will be a case of turn up on the day and winging it. My goal for tomorrow is to try and keep my smoking under 100 and diet coke consumption under 5 litres. The fear and anxiety tends to take off on comedy night.
Still to comfort myself I can always turn to my mystery commentator & read their gentle words of encouragement and human kinship. Thank you for reading. Thank you for commentating. I apologise for being rude and angry and abusive in this blog but sometimes some of us are not perfect human beings. One can only strive for such magnificence the mystery reader clearly has.
gggrrrrrr
xx
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