oh. my. head.
Too much drink (and splendid food) last night in the Nags in the company of countless people - Greg, Bren, Julie, Alison F, Paul F, Julie, Caroline, Matt, Ian, Sacha, Tanya, Claudine, Fi, Helen W, Steve, Helen N, Teresa, Alison, Tim, Gary, Dave, Malcolm, Cath, Tam, Kev, Andrea, Simon, Jeremy, Phil, Simon, Terry, Steve C - and I’m sure there were others too. Text messages were exchanged with a few people not present.
I’ve no idea what time I left - long after the official closing time, that’s for sure. Apparently I was online at 4am, but not responding to IMs.
I’m going for a walk in the sun and with a couple of paracetamol.

A leisurely day so far, laying about hungover until I had the strength and will to move, followed by a gentle stroll around the city in beautiful winter sunshine. Sitting on a park bench in Priory Park with a newspaper as the shadow of the cathedral spire passed over me was particularly relaxing - what a shame that I have to go back to work tomorrow.
Tonight I’ve been contributing to Eurotrash and also updating my marketing project, reminding myself that, this time next week, I’ll be back at college.

Road signs of the world. (link poached shamelessly from David)

It being a particularly cold morning, I grabbed my Barbour as I left for work, jammed my phone into the pocket and felt a piece of paper. I pulled it out - two £10 notes folded one inside the other.
I hope this is a sign of things to come. Last night, something which I pretty much knew anyway was confirmed - I was hoping things would be a bit different, but there you go. There is something positive in it, if I can deal with the situation, and I’m going to give it my best shot. But that is not to say that I don’t wish that things were different.

TFF: 60 points this week, taking my total to 518. Not bad, but not stunning, given the number of matches played over the Christmas period.
One transfer: Kewell out, replaced by Sinclair - hopefully the Hammers will do well in the Cup at the weekend.

If you are feeling generous, you can now support this site through PayPal by going to my support page.

I’m a euro-enthusiast. If you get your news from British newspapers, read this article and consider why so many of those papers are opposed to the euro.

Does today feel like a Thursday to you? That’s the downside to holidays - completely messes with your internal calendar.

Why I Need A Girlfriend (or maybe a domestic help) (number 390346934897 in a series):

Ironing. I need someone to do my ironing. It’s not that I don’t like ironing. I actually quite enjoy it - it has a gently therapeutic quality.
But I am crap at it.
I’ve just spent twenty minutes or so fighting with the iron and a pair of trousers that I need to wear tomorrow night. And, I’m sorry, but I’ll be looking slightly creased in them. I tried everything - a higher temperature, using the steam function, spraying the trousers with a light spray of clean water - everything, all to no effect. I think all I have achieved is to rearrange the creases in a different pattern. Still, I might score 6.0 for artistic impression.
So, if and when I find myself a girlfriend, I hope she will be understanding and pitch in with the ironing. I’m happy to do any of the other chores - cleaning the bath, scrubbing the loo, cooking every single meal (I’d wash my hands before doing that). Just please relieve me of the ironing so that once, just once, I could go out looking as though my clothes haven’t been kept screwed up in a ball at the foot of my bed.

Happy birthday to Penn. Thanks for improving the quality of life.

And I forgot to wish David W, across the Atlantic, a happy 30th birthday on New Year’s Eve.

Just nipped out to the Nags, passing through W2 on the way. I figured that New Year’s Eve hangovers might have passed by now, and, given that Thursday is usually a popular drinking night, I could be assured of a few other people being out.
But, no, not a soul to be seen. Joel was propping up the bar in W2, bemoaning the fact that nobody goes there any more. Gary was holding the fort in the Nags, saying “boring, innit?”. So I had a pint with him, read the paper and came back home.

Incidentally, thanks for the suggestions for the gift for the girl who has everything. I’ve got it now, but can’t say what it is in case she reads this before I present it to her this evening. Hope she likes it!

Even the BBC gets in on the act of weblogging or whatever you like to call it.

What exactly is the point of this?

Sigh. Post Christmas malaise is setting in. The weather has been grey and misty all day, and I’ve just taken the Christmas decorations down. The flat seems horribly cold and empty without them. I hate this time of year.
But to liven things up, I’ve spent the last 24 hours in the company of Penn to celebrate her birthday, which included dinner with her friends and family, then on to a club (yes! me in a nightclub! that’ll make it snow or something. I was even seen to dance!!) with Penn, Matt, Jules, Claire, Malcolm, Graham, Lester and Sally. A really good night - a lovely crowd of people - thanks for making the stranger so welcome.
Anyway, to beat the post Christmas blues, I’m heading to the Nags shortly to spend time with my lovely friends, then tomorrow I’m going for lunch with Sarah, and in the evening I’m going to go and see a film.

I am now using BlogBack Plus for my comments. It kicks ass! It also means, for the first time, that I can edit your comments. Of course, I believe in free speech, blah blah blah, so carry on saying just what the hell you feel like. But, if you make a complete pigs ear of it and click on the “send” button before realising, just drop me an email and I’ll edit it for you and stop you looking silly, thick or both.

Just in from the pub with four married women. How cool is that?

There has definitely been a nimeity of alcohol consumption in the last few days. I really need to ease off a bit for the sake of my liver. It also doesn’t help my phone bill either, as I promised to meet everyone in the pub tonight, when, in fact, I’ll be at the cinema. So now I’ve got to call them all. guh.

Relaxing lunch with Sarah, followed by a gentle stroll round the city. Sundays were made for this.

Incidentally, beer last night with four married women, Paul F, Aris, Arron, Bren, Greg and Heidi, with sightings of numerous other people.

I can’t remember the last time I went to see a film before tonight. I’m sure I’ve missed some excellent cinema. But tonight I saw something that was worth the wait. Amelie. It was one of the best films I have seen. Ever. Funny, touching, beautiful.
It is also a film that I wish I’d had someone to see it with.
Afterwards, I went for a quick last-orders beer with Paul F, Arron and Al.
It’s been a strange weekend. I have a heavy heart, and yet I’m smiling, even though there is a tear in my eye. I’ve some of the best friends in the world, old and new, and yet I’m missing something. I wish I knew how to fix it. Maybe I do, but just haven’t realised it. Or admitted it.

Sleep well last night? Good. Now read this.

Should we be worried that the Russian military and nuclear power authorities have made decisions based on the word of an astrologer?

Oh joy. Tonight is the first night of the new term at college. I can barely wait.
But, if I passed my exams before Christmas (unlikely - results at the end of February), and I pass my exams in June, then this will be the last term. Hurrah! And then I’ll have my diploma, my cap and gown, and the world will be my oyster. Or something.
But I soooo don’t want to go to college. I mean, I want to finish my course, which is actually really interesting. And I definitely want to see everyone again. But I just don’t want to have to drag myself to college after work for three exciting hours with Eric (the tutor) droning on in the monotone he gets stuck in. I’d rather stay at home and veg out tonight.
But I’ll go. Because if I skipped the class, I’d feel guilty. And it wouldn’t help me pass the exams, which I want to do more than anything.

How immensely sad. You really can’t imagine how they feel, and that they have to go through it all in the public eye.

Horoscope for today:

Now what?

Sorry I’ve been quiet today. Actually been working, on nursery things, plant fair things and a bit of college work too. Plus Blogger has had a few problems, but seems ok now.

Sore throat, tickly cough, aching shoulders and legs. This is going to be good day, I can tell.

Forgot to give last week’s AFF score - a respectable 30 points, but I only moved two places up the league. I think it is fair to say at this stage in the season that I am unlikely to challenge for the top spot.
This week’s TFF: a good 45 points, taking my total to 563.

There’s nothing like being ill - shivery with a headache and sore throat accompanied by aching limbs - tired, cold, at home on your own with a silent phone to make you feel melancholy. gah! I promised myself I wouldn’t get melancholy without good reason, and look - failed already.
Right now I could do with someone to gently rub the achiness from my shoulders, back and legs; to bring me a cup of tea; to cuddle up against me and keep me warm at night. I hate living alone and being ill - it’s the pits.

And Blogger is not functioning correctly either. Guh.

Off work today. My cold has got worse, not better. Still fighting with Blogger though.

Well, I’ve just finished reading The Battersea Park Road to Enlightenment by Isabel Losada. I can’t say I feel more enlightened as a result of reading it, but it has certainly made me think a little. Not too much mind you. But it has made me think a little more about the way I lead my life, the way I feel about myself, the way I look out at the world and others.
And to be honest, I don’t actually feel too bad about my response to the world. I actually feel that I’m reasonably self aware, aware of some of my strengths and weaknesses. I do think that I need to be more confident in my strengths (and I’ve recognised that for a while). Perhaps I need to pick up on one or two of my personal weaknesses too, and try to turn them to advantages, to manage them more effectively.
But ultimately I am who I am (to quote Popeye). I need to accept myself for who I am, and accept those around me for who they are. Hopefully, those other people will return the favour.

Anyway, having read that, I’m now going to finish Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which I started to read when I stayed over at Penn’s the other day. Much less thought-provoking.

Well, I’m not surprised, but it looks like Blogger is to introduce charges. I will certainly pay, because I like Blogger, and if it means the service is better and more relaible - even if it only ensures its continued operation - then it is worthwhile. The charge is expected to be around US$30 per blog. That means I’d have to pay around $120 to maintain the four blogs I operate.
I’m glad I set up that support page.

Newly added to the approved list: Vodkabird.

I’m going to the pub. And, frankly, I don’t care that you think that someone who is coughing and wheezing could do better than to spend two hours in a smoky pub. Who do you think you are? My mum?
Besides, at the moment I need beer and company.

Beer tonight with Patrick, with sightings of Gary and Phil. Nothing to report.

Worth reading.

Well, I’ve been single for a whole year. urf.

Damn. The sun is shining. I might have to cheer up.

Use the net? Read End of Free? oh.

Turquoise is the new black.

Comments are down at the moment for planned maintenance. Hopefully they will be back very shortly.

Beer (wine and whisky) last night with Paul F, Paul C, Kearn and Arron, then with Nick, Anne and Anne’s lovely sister Susan. Was doing olympic-standard slurring by the end of the evening, when I staggered home through the fog at some ungodly hour.
Really tired today, and a bit hungover. Serves me right I guess.
Just been for a stroll around the city, and, unusually, didn’t bump into or see anybody that I know. Did succeed in ordering the text I need to read for college (only £17.99 - nice), which was made a little difficult by the assistant’s insistence that it is out of print (it isn’t).
Actuially plan to do a bit of study this afternoon, maybe take a nap, read a bit of Harry Potter, then head out later to do double duty - DAGS birthday bash with tapas at Sadlers, followed by farewell beers for Tim at the Nags.

New banner. Like it?

Beer, wine and tapas tonight with Tanya, Andrea, Kev, Emma, Jayne, Kearn, DA, DAGS (happy birthday!), Sacha and Ian, followed by beer and vodka with Paul F, Julie, Caroline, Carolyn, Tim (bon voyage!), Helen, Cath, Viv and Amanda and plenty of other Nags regulars.
Heard tonight that Sally is unwell - I hope you’re better soon. Thinking of you.

I would moan about how I feel here, but then I’d only be accused of being a miserable bastard, as a good friend put it recently.
Instead, I’m going to finish Harry Potter, then do the college work I didn’t do yesterday because I’m too bone idle. Then fajitas for tea followed by a trip to the cinema.

Well, I’m feeling a bit more cheery now. Could still use a hug though.

AFF - ten points this week (not bad) but still far too far down the table for my liking.

Went and saw The Man Who Wasn’t There tonight. Excellent, combining a good story with excellent cinematography, good acting, humour and some thought provocation. In particular, brilliant use of the cinematic pause. If you don’t know what I mean, watch it, and you’ll see.
Followed that by a quick beer with Bren, Greg and Paul F.

You know that old argument about weblogs. You know what I mean: the one that goes “if you think it is crap, or it irritates you, don’t bother going back”. Actually, I’m not convinced this argument works. There is one blog (for that is exactly what it is, in spite of any protestations to the contrary) that I feel compelled to read even though it is no better than a lot of web detritus and actually makes me cringe and go all tense across my shoulders. Why do I keep reading it?? Am I trapped and obsessed by its mundanity? Do other readers experience the same problem?

Hmmm. Have I got the Monday morning blues or what? I have to be careful not to throw the self-destruct switch when I get in a mood like this, wallowing in a pit of self-pity. It doesn’t really help - in fact, it tends to make matters worse. You’d think I’d have learnt by now.
So I guess I should focus on the positive. I’m healthy, alive, with a nice home, good friends and family, a job …it isn’t so bad I guess.

Busy busy busy. Which beats thinking.

Marcia has repainted/relaunched/reincarnated/reinvented. And is having praise heaped upon her everywhere. Sickening. I may have to have a hiatus, just to boost my visitor numbers.

so tired. but so much to do. guh.

Stanley Unwin dies. He had recently seen a new career direction as a speech writer for President Bush.

Well, hit me with a dead carp. I’m just rummaging through some ancient CDs and found that I have a copy of Shaggy’s Boom Bas Tic. The shame.

Everyone else does it, so why shouldn’t I….?

Separated at birth?

hmm. OK. Maybe not.

Vaughan tips me off that there is a new Bark Psychosis album in the works. Cool.

At war with mice. Thanks to Marcia.

College wouldn’t be half so much fun if we didn’t all sit around during the break talking about our love lives. During the course, we’ve had a couple of engagements, a couple of weddings, a couple of cohabitations, a pregnancy, some new loves, some broken hearts and everything in between. I always seem to be a focus for discussion, although I’m not sure if that is because of sympathy, empathy or comedy (or maybe because I am now the only person on the course who is not attached). Either way, it’s good fun.

There’s nothing like a client meeting at 9.15am on a frosty morning to wake you up. But I doubt that I’ll be able to maintain the awake status all day though. Still, cinematic treat for tonight after work, which is a Good Thing.

After a long gap, I’ve had a new submission for the passport photo page - Louise. Brave enough to add yours?

TPL: 31 points this week. My running total (after revisions for a couple of earlier miscalculations) is 587.

I did wonder if I’d get another rash of passport photo submissions if someone was ever brave enough to submit something new, and sure enough…
Added this evening: Vicky. And Nico has promised one too.

Just been to see Sweet Smell of Success, a film originally released in 1957, starring Tony Curtis and Burt Lancaster. For its time, this was a very dark movie, featuring violence, corruption, sex and drugs (though never explicitly - apart from one good and short fist fight between the two main characters) - and very compelling it was too.
The only irritation were the two people sitting three rows behind me who would not stop talking. Irritating teenagers? Know-it-all brats? Nope - worse than that. A pair of silver haired pensioner ladies. I was very close to telling them to shut…the…fuck…up at one point.

Yay! I’ve won £10 on the national lottery! Of course, I must have bought about £100 worth of tickets to get that, but hey-ho.

Not much to say so far today. But lots of work to do. So please excuse the quiet.

Pet hates - going to take a swig from a mug of coffee, only to discover that you’ve already drained it. guh. Now I need to get another mug.

I now have a recent referrers list down at the bottom of the navbar so you can see how people find their way here. Cool, huh? Courtesy of this man.

I’ve also found out who my Secret Santa was - none other than our very own Cal Henderson. Thank you, and happy birthday!

tonight - Little Otik with Greg and Brenda, followed by beer with Greg, Brenda, Arron, Kearn, DA and DAGS. Too tired to write more.

so, last night I saw Little Otik. What a strange, strange film. Plot summary: a childless and infertile couple are digging in the garden and find a tree stump that looks like a baby. They choose to adopt it, and through their love the stump comes to life. It then proceeds to eat everything it sees.
I think Bren and Greg were a bit fazed by it. At the end of it, you were simply left with a dazed feeling and the thought that “that was completely barking mad!” The fact that the film is a combination of live action and animation enhances that feeling - there is no attempt to hide the bizarreness of the story by trying to use CGI to make the wooden baby more lifelike.
It is possibly just a little too long at two hours, but I’d recommend it to anyone who can enjoy a completely bizarre and strange story presented in a spare and stark manner.

hmmm. I’m probably setting a dangerous precedent here. But anyway…
I’ve been sent an email by “Manic” of Bloggerheads, promoting his Buy Pretzels for the President page. And I thought it was amusing, so I’m linking it.

Beer tonight with Paul F, Malcolm, Arron, Julie, Caroline, Julie and Fi, with sightings of Gary, Teresa, another Sally and several other people. So tired now.

It’s one of those mornings that nature created in order to deceive the unwary. At the moment, I can see that it is bright, sunny and beautiful outside. However, I happen to know (because I’ve been watching) that it threw down hail just twenty minutes ago. I can also see another large black cloud looming its way through the blue from the northwest as I sit here typing this, pondering what level of clothing is appropriate for my expedition to the bank, shops and pub (yep, in the pub again already, but on a legitimate lunch mission).
I’m still tired this morning, in spite of a reasonably good night’s sleep. I got to bed at around one o’clock after a slightly strange conversation on MSN, but I forgot to switch off my alarm, so had some dirge on Radio 1 blaring out at 6:59. Just as I was drifting back to sleep, I was disturbed again by the road sweeper working its way past my windows (my front door is only 18 inches from the kerb, so as it passes the whole building shakes and the letterbox and door knocker rattle). Once that noise had subsided into the distance, I was woken again by the postman, delivering a highly exciting Council Tax single occupancy declaration form (no love letters, no postcards from people on foreign holidays, no exciting packages from Amazon, not even an invitation to enter an amazing prize draw from Readers’ Digest ("You May Have Already Won!!!"), not even a bill).
So I gave up on the sleep idea, and turned on the radio to listen to the cricket commentary for a while (listening to Jonathan Agnew painting pictures with words, describing the stadium in Calcutta with its three tiers of seating on all sides as creating an atmosphere that is "like playing cricket in the bottom of an enormous soup bowl"), before running a deep bath and wallowing in it for a while.
I think I’ve psyched myself up for the day now, having had breakfast, cleaned the bathroom, sorted out some laundry and poked about online for a while. I feel a bit more prepared to tackle the day, and whatever bizarre things destiny has lined up for me.
Do you ever get that feeling? The feeling that your life is becoming more bizarre and absurd by the day, or even by the hour? When I look back over the last eighteen months or so, there is no doubt in my mind that my life is becoming absurd and slightly peculiar. I’m not sure I could exactly define in what way it is becoming so, and I’m sure that if I was to look at things objectively, I’d probably decide that it isn’t really that strange at all. But it *feels* strange, and has certainly been including some experiences that, eighteen months ago, I wouldn’t have dreamt of.
Perhaps that is why I feel this strong need to find a metaphorical (and human) rock to anchor myself to.

And another thing: where do those silly transparent plastic headscarves that ladies of pensionable age wear on days like today come from? I have *never* seen them for sale.

I’m hooked. via LMG.

Aren’t you glad that you’re not related to Osama bin Laden?

Sometimes, other people write with far greater eloquence than I could muster if I tried for a whole week. Tom did that today.

I can heartily recommend this company’s products, based on the one I’ve just consumed. A ready meal that really does taste like it was prepared by hand in someone’s kitchen, and not on a production line somewhere. And you can actually taste the ingredients. It might just catch on. (My Berkshire readership should note that they have a branch in Maidenhead, as well as the newly opened shop just five minutes walk from my front door here).