Andy's Blog

My life would look sooooo much more interesting, than it is in real life, if some stranger were ever to read the texts on my phone and assume the rest of my life was the same.

In my text life I am, well quite frankly, some form of sexual god or at least a successful perv… which is somewhat worrying.  To date I am;

1. A sexy woman’s “first man”
2. Able to call favours upon another young woman, although to be fair there was some very specific small print in that text.
3. The recipient of updates regarding the state of dress, or lack thereof, of some bloke stuck on the M25.  Dave, please, stop!
4. ..and who can forget the offer of some fun in the car park!

Unfortunately, or fortunately in the case of item 3, there were no pictures attached to any of these.  It also has to be said that had I not deleted some texts before and after these specific ones, the context of the above may be somewhat different to the way they are read individually …apart from item 3!   Seriously! Dave!

Finally if that imagined person who is reading my texts didn’t know what a Sensei was, there are some serious inbreeding issues in certain parts of Northampton town, then my texts could read like me being some EXTREMELY busy prostitute reporting back to my pimp.  The mind boggles as to what stock I’m buying for that little venture then!

Ah well, unless you see me hanging around street corners in a natty little skirt, which has been known… the skirt wearing that is… well kilt… HONESTLY IT’S A KILT!  …then just assume that my normal hum-drum life is still nowhere as exciting as my textual one :-/

Although one can but dream.

Goddamit, one post at the beginning of this month and I am now only just starting to think of another post at the arse end of the month.  Well that’s not entirely true, there was a post in progress somewhere near the middle which never saw the light of day for various reasons; the primary being it was rubbish.

Of course I still can’t think of anything to write although a lots gone on;

• The chance to see, chat, laugh, drink and celebrate with Parents, Brothers, Sisters, Nephews, Nieces, Cousins, even the ever-itchy footed one, Aunts and Uncles down in Andover for the wedding of my cousin Josie.
• Round two of the GKR Inter-Dojo Drinkie-Poo’s, with its tagline of “be there or be sober!”
• Sun, sun and yet more sun.  Seriously it’s been sunny here!
• Hospital visits and probes.
• ….and probably a few more things that I can’t remember right at this moment.  Maybe I should write these things down?

For some reason, and it was badly written in the unpublished post, I still feel slightly “empty” this month.  The feeling that something is slightly out of your reach and no matter how much you strive for it, it is just that wee bit quicker than what you are.  It’s not always something that tangible either.

The unpublished post was titled “Well I wish I was…” which was a slightly ironic title based on a mucky song that my dad had on a vinyl record back when I was a young whipper-snapper.  The song’s a bit whimsical and British sea-side postcard humour’ish, but the sentiment was what stuck.  I’m not going to attempt to re-iterate what was in there as I couldn’t finish that one, and I want to at least get something posted before the end of this month!

Not entirely sure there’s a point to this post, but I shall attempt to bring my head back to the here-and-now and focus on some personal milestones that are coming up far quicker than I can entirely grasp.  May and June *could* be momentous times in my development and I need to get my shite together, as a friend once eloquently put it.

I can’t help who I am, but I can do something about what I want to be…. maybe.

Laters…

Not firing at one hundred percent at the moment, which is really rather annoying.

It’s always said that the things that matter most are hard won but easily lost, and this seems to be happening somewhat frequently with only one thing constant; yours truly.  So the blame seems to lie in one place only and am not entirely sure what to do about that.

In the meantime the goal of nearly 5 years hard, and sometimes frustrating, work is starting to look like it may be achievable.

Nothing is ever guaranteed, of course, but as Lao Tzu wrote; “A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step”.  So time to put one, solitary, foot in front of the other and see whether this now personal journey gets me to where I want to go..

..minus those hard won and easily lost.

Life, as the old 80′s song insists, is what you make it.. which is a somewhat sobering thought as I look out over a rain drenched Abington Park.

There are many things that both friends and family will quote at you, in wordishly wise ways, and sometimes with a zen-like look on their face and voice; but however much you shake a stick at it, and this is probably age related (another year, another candle to burn), sometimes you just need to drop back, find your own space, crank up the music that defines your here-and-now and…..

…and?  Well you’ll know what works for you, as for me, I am still mid “and…’ing”.

Sometimes, and rather rudely at that, you have to stop yourself, look at what it is you are dreaming of and come to the realisation that is only that.. a dream, and one which is probably too far away for you to touch or could possibly have hope to realise.

And that’s where I am today. I looked at the dream from several angles and put on my ‘sensible head’, which is not something I do very often, and came to the stark realisation that I was being an idiot, which *is* something I am very often!

I am a somewhat unhappy at having to do this bit of growing up, but will put this down to a ‘Mid-Life Crisis’, as a friend so helpfully labelled it, and move forward with something less than I had hoped.

It *is* the sensible thing to do after all..

(bloody hell!  back to the maudling posts again!)

The title is a doffing of the proverbial cap to Sigmund Freud who called our dreams the “royal road to the unconscious”. His idea being that our dreams were shaped by experiences in our childhood, which psychoanalysts could use to reveal our childhood miseries, and thereby cure our inner torment.

Which is all very nice, but a bit too dry and dusty for my tastes.

I think it must be the time of year, the fact that you can actually feel Autumn beginning its onset, but I have been having conversations with a number of friends about our/their dreams.  Not the stuff that psychoanalysts get all excited about, but the aspirations we had when we were younger and why none of us seemed to have done anything about them.  Suggesting that these conversations are the product of our imminent crash into mid-life-crisis’dom doesn’t win you many friends – go figure!

The outcome of these conversations?  Bit of a mixed bag really, and nothing you could, or should, base an ethos on.  Mostly that; when you are younger life seems to stretch out in front of you and you have plenty of time to deal with those dreams later on, after a healthy bit of hedonism.  Unfortunately at some point you blink and find yourself married, with kids, a mortgage and more responsibilities than you can shake a stick at!

The dreams you had now become an object of regret, instead of something still to aspire to.  A number of friends are dealing with this in different ways; from the “sod it, i’m going for it anyway!” to the “it was only a dream, I was a lot younger..” more grown-up attitude (their words, not mine).

Unfortunately, the nature of some of those dreams have a more acidic impact on our “today” life and would probably mean giving up more than we ever envisioned.

Me?  For the moment I am taking the path of escapism!  It has been more years than I care to mention since I passed my Motorcycle test and had twatted around on a motorbike (‘twatted’ being the appropriate verb, as I had more accidents during that period than at any other point in my life!).  However a rather good friend of mine, in the hope that I am tempted to buy it, has lent me a bloody great beast of a bike and is allowing me to once more forget about my “today” life and escape into the moment.

Helmet down, iPod set to heavy metal, flick the electronic ignition, feel 1000cc’s between ya legs (no rude comments!), slip the clutch and roar off at a frightening rate of knots… bliss!  For a small while you are back to the teenager you were, no responsibilities and the road ahead is open to make of as you will.

What a dream!