In which the worst thing to happen to me becomes the best.
I’m currently sorting through my old paperwork and in amongst the details of my mortgage and tax statements I have invoices for old cars and instructions for TVs that I no longer have. Yet I also rediscovered one of the most important letters I have ever received, my termination of employment from a certain opticians*.
It would seem odd to be happy to find a letter that says you are no longer wanted, and at the time there was some bitterness about it, but like the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park life found a way and I now realise it was one of the best things ever to happen to me. This isn’t one of those thoughts I have while crying into a glass of scotch trying to convince myself it was good, but a genuine belief that being discarded by them gave me a helping hand to have a better life. I owe them a certain amount of thanks for how my life has turned out since then.
They have also given me a benchmark for how bad life can be, and it allows me to see the same in others. No job is worth your mental health and as the opposite of the saying goes, what goes down must come up. Even when I start to feel a low in life coming on I remember that the important thing is to bounce. Continue reading “I can see clearer now”
If you believed the news then the world is full of change and we are all on the cusp of some crisis affecting the status quo of our lives. In reality I got up this morning, went to work, sat through a load of meetings, and caught the train to go home.Tonight I will face the hardest choice of the day when I have to decide where I will order a take away from.
I am one of 7 billion people on this planet, and if the news affects a million different people a day then it will have an impact on me once every 19 years. This is the reality of real life, for most of us for most of the time it is mundane. As a result we have an existence that is hidden in the middle pages, or a segment just before that quirky animal at the end of the hour. We are page 27 or on at 15.53.
I have few friends. Before you go all “oh that’s so sad/funny” let me add a caveat. I know a lot of people, and have known a lot of people. It’s just that I don’t class many of them as friends. Acquaintances, colleagues, contacts, companions, yes. There is nothing wrong with being one of them. What makes a friend though? What has to happen to push through simply knowing someone to it being a friendship?
Sam never left Frodo, even when he was cast away.
A real friendship is one where you are completely honest and truthful. You have complete trust in the other person. You would do anything for them without expecting any reward or praise in return. Cicero thought that as well, and he was one of the greatest philosophers.
In which I choose someone I want to spend time on the sofa with.
I often have discussions with Mrs G about the impact each of us had had on the others lives. It tends to be one of those in depth conversations where she is on the laptop and I saving various continents from peril. It normally means that my syntax structure is determined by the blasts of lightning from my magic shaft.
The basic gist is that we compliment each other fairly well, even though we have similar tastes and interests we are still very different people in terms of our temperament. She is a humanities person where I’m the scientist, she is the loud-mouthed American and I’m the repressed Brit. Continue reading “Marrying for friendship”
I was tempted to begin by deliberately antagonizing the nerdosphere and wishing them all “live long and prosper”. Today though is a day to rival even Darth Khaaaaaaan and not even James T. Skywalker could save use, even with the Millennium Enterprise.
To try and cheer myself up I can only hope that things will only get better so I thought it best to write down what I am hoping for.
In fact I’m going for the style of writing I have the most problem with. Poetry. Well actually what I have wrote is a semi-poem, although it fails on the main criteria of not rhyming. And if I know anything about poetry it’s that:
In which I appear to have muted rather than unfriended.
My closest friend is myself. I have few friends. Before you go all “oh that’s so sad/funny” let me add a caveat. I know a lot of people, and have known a lot of people. It’s just that I don’t class many of them as friends. Acquaintances, colleagues, contacts, companions, yes. There is nothing wrong with being one of them. What makes a friend though? What has to happen to push through simply knowing someone to it being a friendship?
A real friendship is one where you are completely honest and truthful. You have complete trust in the other person. You would do anything for them without expecting any reward or praise in return. Cicero thought that as well, and he was one of the greatest philosophers. A friend knows when things are wrong, and knows when and how to ask what it is. A friend doesn’t just say “what’s up?” Continue reading “Abandoning your friends”
In which I aim to have a serious purpose or be more carefree.
There are occasions when I think the geek quotient starts to drop from this blog. It can all get a bit touchy feely or radically politicised and hardly been any mention of sci-fi or general geekiness.
The strange thing is that these emotional outpourings have garnered more likes than the ones on the best haircuts in fantasy so I seem to have that bloggers dilemma. Become popular or stick to my roots?
I like likes, it makes me feel like that the things I like are being liked by others who like the things that I like as well. It’s a form of validation that suggests that this act of egotistical outpouring is actually worthwhile and not just something to do while Football Manager is processing another match.
Living in the past is boring (as I already know the story), and living in the future is a waste of time (because you always hype it up and become disappointed at the result). If you really want to live then exist in the now, it’s where all the cool stuff is happening.
Earlier I was in Ikea, and later I’ll be in bed but for the moment I am in front of the television building in Minecraft. See, isn’t life just so Rock and/or Roll when you have all you diems carped?
Sitting here is no different from most other Saturday evenings, the pictures on the screen may change but it’s still my derrière on the sofa.
I vaguely remember the dawn of the new millennium, I’m going to claim it was due to a heavy cold but being twenty at the time my memory degradation was more self-inflicted. I don’t remember going out for New Year’s Eve since then, and not because of alcohol.
I think that was the last occasion I revelled in the changing of the calendar, not that I really went party crazy before then. Instead of getting pickled I prefer to watch the fireworks, and that is just what I did last night.