Monday 23 November 2009

Like a sparkly bauble

So, I'm sat in the brasserie at the Swan hotel because of a number of reasons. Firstly, my lack of internet is driving me to despair, and they have a wi-fi point here. Secondly, the longer I can stay away from home, the longer I can ignore my looming politics essay. And finally, I quite liked the idea of being a bit of a poser and composing some silly little blog entry over a glass of chardonnay in a glitzy bar... For the record, I ended up ordering a hot chocolate. But it came with whipped cream and marshmellows, thus it was justified.

After coming to terms with the fact that my Masters course isn't exactly what I expected it to be, I can't help but start thinking about expectations in general. Particularly at this time, in the doomsday of post-uni life, with everyone I know embarking on new careers or planning those next crucial steps, what we want and what we expect from life kind of seems a little warped. My parents, ever the practical and responsible ones, tell me that this is just "how things are in the real world."

What exactly does that mean? "The real world"? Have we all been exisiting in some sort of fantasy realm up until now, cushioned from this alternative reality? Even before the end of uni, everyone around me appeared to be bracing themselves for this 'real world', where the big dreams you've had all your life get popped like a bubble. And I admit, things don't look too great if we're going to get all statistical. It's something like 2 and a half million people under 25 years old that are unemployed, which is quite scary. A randomer told me the other day that they met a man who had recently qualified as a doctor. They met this man in a restaurant; he was their waitor. Again, scary.

Here's the thing though: I'd still rather live in my cushy alternative reality than in this 'real world.' Even with all these frightening figures and 'get-on-with-it' attitude, I still don't feel like this 'real world' has even touched me. It's like, we're getting closer to Xmas and the clocks have been put back so it's getting dark by 4pm, but at the same time nothing can change the fact that it's Xmas and everything's that little bit more sparklier, and a little bit more magical. I mean, Father Christmas is still real, right?

I'm rambling and feel like I've lost the plot somewhat (in more ways than one). I guess I'm just trying to say that even if I didn't feel Xmas-y this year, I'd still be putting up a Xmas tree.

Thursday 5 November 2009

Mr Blog and I

It was only in the aftermath of an inordinate amount of time spent formatting an image of Robbie Williams from a GIF file to a JPEG one - a stupidly simple task - that I realised how much I missed the blog that never was.

Mr Blog and I have had a rocky relationship. I first heard of him through the casual chit-chat of those in the know. There seemed to be a buzz about the chap, but I dismissed it as nothing more than hype. Then I caught a glimpse of him; clean-shaven, smart but distinct, with a style all of his own. He was perhaps a little rough around the edges, but we could soon sort that out. However, modern-day cynicism soon set in, and I decided quite quickly that this was no doubt a case of style over substance; all talk and no trousers.

And then, like all the great romances, one day Mr Blog and I just happened to bump into each other. I suppose I should have expected it - I was in his neighbourhood. We got to talking, and it turns out he's a great listener. And what do you know, he shares a lot of the same opinions as me. And so friendly and polite, a complete gentleman. Never interrupts. My heart starts racing and I'm thinking, 'Gosh, this could really be something!'

So, I invite him back for coffee and we started playing around... Then we start fooling around... Which is playing around minus the coffee... Turns out I really know how to turn him on. When we'd shut down for the night, my mind would run rampant with all the, ahem, conversations we'd had. I really felt like I could get something out of this relationship.

We continued fooling around for a couple of weeks, but it wasn't long before the cracks started to show. He couldn't keep anything I told him private. He just regarded our relationship as an open book, for anyone to read. And then he stopped communicating with me altogether...! Can you believe that? He was happy to talk to other people about us, but had nothing to say to me. The nerve! I lost interest in him, and as a result didn't put the effort into our relationship that I perhaps should have... The answer was inevitable.

I deleted him from my life.

Life continued for 6 months or so, and I didn't think much of Mr Blog. And then tonight I found myself in his neighbourhood again. I was certain that he'd tricked me, but something inside me had brought me back here. That old familiar feeling rose up, and before I could stop myself I was caught in his net once more. And that's where I am right now.

The problem before was that I was trying to define our relationship. This time I'm happy for it to be an open one. As long as we're both committed, communicate with each other and keep things exciting, then we should be fine. Like that Robbie Williams photo, I knew our relationship was never going to be picture perfect, but then perhaps I'm missing the bigger picture...?

Wednesday 4 November 2009

Dicktionary

pop-sicle
n.
(pop-see-kul)
a popular treat enjoyed by all