Back to Normality

Back to work today, always seems slightly unreal after the frenetic activity of the holidays to return to an office where my basic duty is to sit and stare at a screen, while pretending to be doing something productive. That is even what I am doing now, sitting here acting as though I am researching a new system and working on a project proposal rather than typing out a blog entry. I will probably begin to blog more often again now, since the mad rush is over and I should have more time to myself. Of course, Wintereenmas is coming up and I have various preparations to carry out for that, not to mention organising various parties and gatherings.

For those of you who may not know about Wintereenmas, it is a holiday designed to help fill the gap between Christmas and Easter, and is a celebration of all things game-related, whether they be computer games, board games, card games or anything else. LAN parties and gaming nights are traditional seasonal celebrations, and the week of celebration itself is always the last week of January. The rest of January is usually taken up, as with Christmas, in gearing up and preparing for the season. Decorations are made and strung, board games are laid out with care, computers are cleaned and polished and games are installed upon them. Essentially Wintereenmas is an excuse to get together with a whole group of friends, get drunk, and have fun, not necessarily in that order. This year I will be trying to take full advantage of the holiday by gathering as many friends as I can for all forms of gaming.

Going back to the holidays past, things have been hectic to say the least. New Years was a round-the-world affair beginning in Australia at midday, with a barbeque, and working around the world until we reached England. Then of course everyone was pulled from their beds early in the morning for a large American breakfast, involving pancakes, waffles and champagne. I was mixing cocktails for most of the night, and for once was not having to deal with any members of the female persuasion as I decided to deliberately ring this New Year in alone, with just family and friends. It made a nice change to be able to just be myself for a while, and be able to be selfish.

I also decided not to really worry about resolutions, though I have made a decision to improve my style of dress. Any attempt I may have made to quit smoking for New Years was quickly discarded as the huge relief that the first cigarette of the new year granted me quickly discarded any good intentions I may have had.

Appropriate to a New Year, I will be starting the cast list over. It will be wiped clean and only those who are still around this year will be included, but that will be done when I get home from work. Or when I get bored and my boss' back is turned, whichever comes soonest. Other changes or resolutions will be announced as they crystallize in my mind.

Oh, and the acquaintance's sister has been in touch. Apparently she searched through her brother's room in order to find my phone number so that she could text me a New Year message. This must be kept quiet, since supposedly she has been warned to keep away from me and not talk to me. I feel more than a little aggrieved at this sort of treatment. It seems that certain people have absolutely no understanding of human nature.

Being Poor

A certain Rabbit Gone Wrong has inspired this post, or rather her reporting of comments by her soon-to-be ex-husband. I have met people similar to this man, at least with the personality aspect she has described today, where they are poor simply because they do not have the latest sports car, a couple of extra mansions, private jets, stocks and shares meaning they never have to work again and so on. People using this as a definition of poverty is one of the things that irritates me. Now I know that I have not experienced the type of poverty that strikes in less priviliged countries than my own, but even I have more idea about what being poor really means than this guy.

I only have somewhere to live and eat now through the grace and generosity of my parents. I work part time, because I lack the qualifications to get a better job full time and have too much experience to get a worse job full time. The only way I got this job was by calling in some very old favours, and while I used to have a lot of those owed to me I am rapidly running out. This is not what I would consider poverty by any stretch, I am earning money, in a pinch I could afford to rent a room in a boarding house and eat one meal of rice a day, possibly with a little meat once and twice a week. I would manage to survive.

I only suffered what I would consider true poverty for two weeks. I had lost my house, this was back when I had one, and I had lost my job. What I had left was a car, which I had no petrol for and which got impounded due to my inability to pay for insurance, tax, petrol or parking permit. Other than that I had a good quality coat, seventy-two pence, and a set of good sturdy clothes. That seventy-two pence and a lot of fast-talking purchased me a couple of McDonald's burgers on the first day I was homeless, and then I had nothing.

For two weeks, because I was too proud to call some friends and admit I had failed miserably to support myself as I was meant to, I practically starved. I would beg and grovel for people to give me some money so that I could get food, dying of shame the whole time. I discovered after the first week why it seems that so many homeless people drink. It just gives you the ability to debase yourself to such a level that you can bring yourself to beg, at least that was how I found it. Most of my money from then went on drink, cheap supermarket brandy was a favourite since it was cheap, and warming. Never let anyone tell you sleeping on a bench is comfortable. It is not.

And then at the end of those two weeks I was rescued. One of those friends I had refused to call found me, talked me into going back with them, got me cleaned up, a change of clothes, and forced upon me enough money to get my car back and on the road, and enough petrol to get home. He also forced me to call my parents and explain what had happened, which was probably the hardest thing I have ever done.

So, next time you hear a couple of people in designer clothes, or driving a car, or just walking through town shopping complaining that they are poor just laugh at them. They honestly have no idea.

Over-Indulgence

I feel that I may be getting old, particularly in the matter of alcohol consumption. It seems that I am unable, as I gather years, to consume alcohol in the same way in which I used to. Indeed, it has become apparent that with any drinks outside of a certain range, I find it difficult to stomach the consumption of more than two glasses. Maybe stomach is the wrong turn of phrase to use, as queasiness is rarely one of my symptoms, much more common is dizziness, slowing down and uncertainty.

Due to this I will now be sticking quite firmly to those alcoholic drinks derived from fruit or honey, as they seem to have much less of an effect upon me than any fermented or distilled from hops or barley. While I do enjoy the sensation of being 'tipsy', and having that faint tingle across my skin, I must either stick with these drinks or force myself to imbibe drinks only slowly and over a longer period of time in order to avoid moving from the pleasantly tipsy, buzzing state into loud and drunk.

There was a time when I could drink non-stop, without suffering the next morning or at the time. That seems to have fled. I suppose it will save me money at least as I will no longer need to buy as many drinks.

Having said that, I may allow myself a quick glass of brandy in the hopes of warming my icy form from the weather outside.

Pre-New Year Ambitions

I have made a decision to improve my diction. Henceforth I will often be using more archaic language and construction of sentences in an attempt to further distance myself from the modern world. My mind is fully set upon seperating my own personal reality from that which truly exists, in the hopes of imposing my own view of the world upon its other inhabitants. Acknowledging the difficulty of such a project is only natural and I could be thought a fool for even conceiving of such, let alone embarking upon such a challenging path. Yet I will not relent. A new resolve has flooded me, and I am now dedicated to seeing all current and future ambitions through either to a successful conclusion, or a mortal one.

As such I believe I should mention the projects I am currently engaged with. Firstly there is the commencement of manually crafted correspondence with persons around the world, purely for the enjoyment of the written word and the reception of international missives. Such as arrive will be carefully saved and treasured. My ambition in this matter is to be corresponding with each of the continents, though I accept that writing to the southern-most continent of Antarctica may prevent a challenge, but not an insurmountable challenge. There is no time limit on this ambition, but to be fulfilled fully this must involve active correspondence with each continent in the same six month period.

The second of these projects is not such a noble cause. Instead it is my attempt to find gainful, full-time employment of some form within the next six months. I am not simply seeking a job, but actively looking for a vocation. I will only apply to those who will employ me in activities which I shall enjoy, and will make all possible attempts to escape from the fiendish electronic machinery and moronic users with which and whom I am currently plagued. I will continue working with these differential engines if, and only if, I manage to become independent of the mediocre management under which I have suffered since beginning in this trade. The only exception to such an ambition will be when I take a month, either in February or soon afterwards, in which I will attempt to raise funds by charging people for the pleasure of my company. This of course will require dedicated training, and high amounts of attention to my appearance, but all noble young men should do such anyway and I feel this can only help me in either ambition.

A third ambition will be the cessation of all nicotinous inhalations by the New Year, as well as the avoidance of all alcohol-related activities except for those in social environs. Even then my intake of such intoxicating products will be reduced to such levels as I retain my full functions and diction, though judgment is permitted to become moderately impaired during such activities.

As for progress on the first ambition, currently I have correspondence with personages on the continents of the New World, the European continent and the African continent. As such I must still find individuals to write to in the Southern section of the New World, the mysterious lands of Asia, and that colony of Australia. Antartica will of course remain my largest challenge, being that the continent is largely uninhabited, except for small pockets of scientific researchers, and I imagine that few of them have the time or inclination to attend to my humble abode on the international network of computers.

Recently at my current place of employment I have found myself with both too much time unoccupied, and an abundance of plasticine. I wish to introduce you all to my latest creation, a product of both of these.

Word of the day: Huna - The unpleasant result of coming to the wrong decision.

Everyone Has a First Time

As the title says, everyone has a first time and I am curious about yours.

Not when you lost your virginity. Frankly first time sex stories are usually fairly dull, and useful only to be told in person while under the influence of alcohol. Even the more interesting ones are never that special.

No, my curiousity today extends to alcohol. Recently I have caught myself drinking more than I usually do, and this is not a good thing. I am not drinking enough to get drunk, which takes rather a lot, but I am starting to drink more often on my own when I get stressed or depressed. This got me thinking about the first time I got drunk, and by extension got me wanting to know everyone else's first time.

I am a nosy old git sometimes.

But I will be fair. If I expect you to tell me about yours then I will tell you about mine.

Mine started when I woke up in a nice, clean hospital bed on a Tuesday afternoon, with a saline drip in my arm. No trace of a hangover, or anything else. In fact really the only problem seemed to be that my clothes were missing and I was in a hospital gown. Slowly as I lay there bits of the story came back to me, others I managed to piece together later.

I was fourteen, had just sailed with sixty other people on a three-masted ship with no engine to Denmark and back over the last nine days, and we had hit port a day early. Apart from nearly colliding with an oil tanker, and a mild storm, the trip had been quiet and uneventful. It had been a pleasant voyage, and the captain suggested that we should all attend a bar he knew of in order to celebrate a safe return. This seemed an excellent idea to me at the time, as I thought it would help me accept that the girl I had been sharing a bunk with (no full pentrative sex had occured, but just about everything else had) would be going back to her home town, a good six hundred miles from my own.

To the bar we went, with the last of our spending money. In my own case my left over money was in the region of sixty pounds. I discovered this was more than enough to allow me to get very, very drunk. According to other party-goers I managed to get through twenty to thirty double whiskeys, as well as spreading the joy around. After this I must have thought that it was a good idea to gather up my bunk buddy in my arms, and start back towards the ship, intending on a passionate and prolonged farewell.

This did not go entirely to plan. Somehow we did make it back to the docks, though how is still a mystery to me. I only know that we made it because a few of the more responsible drinkers apparently assigned themselves as our body guards, working on the sensible presumption that otherwise we could well turn up dead, or not turn up the next day. I selected a pier, and began to tug the object of my affections towards the end of it where our ship awaited in the shadowy, unlit darkness.

I then, according to witnesses, vanished with a splash.

Into the North Sea, off the coast of Scotland.

In Midwinter.

I woke up in the hospital the next morning.

Reason I am talking about this is that is pretty much how I feel right now. I just found out, after weeks of waiting, that not only did I not get the job, but that a decision I took today has placed me in direct opposition to my manager, and everyone else in my office, at work. It is a similar sort of feeling to that moment which flashes back to me now and then, stepping forwards onto what should have been solid ground, feeling uncertain but relieved at the potential of safety, then suddenly nothing there except freezing water.

Halloween Costumes and Traumatised Tricksters

Well for a last-minute attempt it cannot be considered all that disastrous. I could not get a waistcoat, or a better shirt, or a rapier. I was stuck with a longsword instead but it will do. The cane incidentally is part of my collection, and was a very expensive Christmas gift from a particularly masochistic ex-girlfriend. It has a decent weight to it, but is just the right shape to leave nothing more than welts and bruises. Have to be careful about the glass crystal on the end though, the metal setting it is in caused rather more severe damage when someone took offense to my rather gothic outfit a few years back.

In fact that was another Halloween, when I had some rather less reputable friends than I do now, when I was actually the good boy of the group. In a way anyhow.

I may not have mentioned before but I have studied various different ways to use weapons, my own body, and other people's bodies in order to inflict harm. I have also spent a long time learning about how bodies, nerves, joints and muscles work. This is all rather off-topic though.

Every Halloween so far I have ended up in some form of fight. I have never in my life started a fight, and I try to stay out of them, but this is where my luck of the devil comes in. I will explain that another time.

This Halloween it seems is going to be peaceful, no one trying to egg the house or throw bricks at it for once. I should be able to just stay inside here. mix myself a cocktail, and relax.

Cocktail Party Planning

I do not often plan or arrange parties. I have thrown some before, but it is usually a case of heading back after a night out to continue chatting, drinking and so on rather than an actual organised affair. So this is something new for me. On Friday I will be, for the first time, actually throwing a party deliberately, with forethought, planning, preparation and everything else.

In preparation for this momentuous occasion shopping has been performed. So far I have bought mixers, alcohol, bases and so on for the actual cocktails. I already have about £200 worth of cocktail making equipment ranging from shakers to a blender to bar spoons. Decorations still need to be bought or made, but that should not be too difficult as I do not plan to go over the top. A few skulls dotted around, maybe some paper chains.

There are some problems however. The first is that I still have no idea for a costume. My budget for the month is minimal, with all of the visiting and driving I have to do, so buying an expensive one is out. I need something simple and cheap suggested, and with my occasional insecurity attacks, not to mention the cold, I also need something that covers my body as much as a full set of clothes.

Second problem is that Miss Complicated may or may not be there, Sweetie may or may not be coming, and another girl who I will explain about shortly will be there.

Obviously if both Miss Complicated and Sweetie turn up I will be engaging in verbal gymnastics most of the night, possibly literal gymnastics if they manage to break the lock on my room and get to my weapons cabinet. Fortunately it seems much more likely that neither of them will make it.

The other girl is one I may need to come up with a nickname for. She has been having an on-off relationship with her boyfriend, gradually becoming more off than on. It seems that it has finally become fully off, at least for the next couple of weeks. She and I have talked in the past, though not seriously, but the main point of attraction for me is that some of my friends have said several times that she would be a perfect match for me, and that I would never get her.

Anyway, if anyone has any costume suggestions, decoration suggestions, food suggestions or anything else feel free to comment.

Oh, and if anyone wants to come along feel free to give me a yell. The only condition will be that you will be required to help restrain Sweetie should she turn up and meet Miss Complicated. It is not that I have lied to her, I have never told her that there is no one else in my life, or in my bed, and she has even given the impression that she accepts that. I just do not think the mix of coming face to face with bits of my life she does not need to ever know the details of and lots of alcohol is good for my health.