That apart I have the uncomfortable feeling that I really haven’t moved any further forward from where I was a few weeks back, I may have even moved backwards on a few items, which is a buggarage and all of which is making me even less fun company to be with than usual.

Introspection is all well and good for a hormone overdosed teenager, who feels the whole world is against them, but for a forty *cough* year old it can be a little ridiculous, but here we are.  Turn up, do what’s expected of you; smile, laugh, practise, teach, drink, chat …. leave quietly.   All without actually being there in mind or spirit.

I am missing not having a motorbike at the moment, taking very long, very fast rides to nowhere.  In my mispent youthdom, when in the same type of mood (when it wasn’t a ridiculous age to be as introspective) this was my favourite form of escape… at least for a little while.

Now I have a blog, a large music collection and a hidy-hole where I can be anti-social to my heart’s content.  I think that’s progress?

……also I do worry that Creed, 3 Doors Down, Daughtry, Theory Of A Deadman, Seether and Stone Sour are not the sort of tunes to help my teenage regression… but DAMN! There’s some damn fine lyrics in there and is at least helping me to figure out some future blog post titles.

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For some reason, and it was badly written in the unpublished post, I still feel slightly “empty” this month.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The unpublished post was titled “Well I wish I was…” which was a slightly ironic title based on a mucky song that my dad had on a vinyl record back when I was a young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…

I don’t want to name it, cos then it gives it power, but I can still hate it for what it’s doing; It’s taking my hair, slowly but inexorably.  It’s making my joints ache.  It’s making it more difficult to stir the carcass from the vertical to the horizontal in the mornings.  It’s making my teeth hurt.

Surprisingly it’s giving the words in my head the wrong directions to my mouth.  The words are there, I can hear them in my head, but they just refuse to make an appearance when either the mouth opens or fingers strum away at the keyboard.

It’s making me a miserable git; I actually found myself giving the local co-op manager a dressing down last night when I found that they had demoted the milk to an obscure corner of the shop, in pitiful quantities, in favour of a MOUNTAIN of Easter Eggs.. of Everest-like proportions!

Oh shit, I am turning into my Dad!

To say it “only takes” is a little disingenuous as it also gives; My body now has a surprisingly large repertoire of noises it is now able to make; cracks, snaps, clicks, poots, groans, etc, etc…  There’s also a wide range of pharmaceutical products upon which I can now prevail myself of.

A cousin asked, after I posted a previous blog post, whether a Therapist had told me to write these things.  No, but it does gives me the ability to “Shout obscenities at the moon” for a little while… An essentially useless past-time but it does make me feel a little better afterwards.

I don’t think I’ll broadcast this little postette, as it’s not something I particularly want to advertise, but it’s there if you look – which you obviously have… Just keep it between ourselves eh?

Waiting for test results to come back, waiting for ordered items to be delivered… although to be fair some of these haven’t taken *THAT* long to be delivered, it’s just that my geeky heart can’t wait to get its greedy mitts on the latest play-thing.

Waiting for the next bout of unpleasantness to arrive, and more frustratingly waiting on the motorway for traffic to start to think about moving again.  This has gotten to the point where I am loading up the ol’ smartphone with some frankly quite bizarre music tracks to take my mind off the static here-n-now.

So in an attempt to wrestle back some control, and inject a little deviation from the normal run-o-the-mill, I’ve decided to finally get around to doing some things I’ve been promising myself but have been thinking “it can wait”…

..It probably can, but I don’t think I want to any longer.

Granted it’s not anything life changing, but every so often a little “what the hell” can’t hurt and is good for the soul.  It also gives you the chance to remove yourself from all those little ‘waits’ that are trundling along, admittedly slowly, but will at some point arrive – what to do at that point is another blog post altogether!

…but not enough.. or way too much.

I’ve spoken before about how a song, a snippet of lyrics taken out of context, an image, or some other medium, provide a far more accurate and personal reflection of self at a point in time.

I won’t try and put into words what the mental image is, inoffensive as it is, as that seems counter intuitive. Maybe later, when I have some personal time, I will search for something that matches it on the big, bad, t’interweb… or, god forbid, put my artistic abilities to the test and actually translate from mental image to physical medium.

Until then I’ll share one of the ‘lyrics out of context’, that I mentioned earlier.  It’s from a song by Madness and perversely it’s probably the one bit that makes the song sound darker than it’s actual intent – which is exactly the opposite;

Standing up in the falling down
In so much rain I could almost drown.

If I ever do manage to scribble the image down I’ll make sure to add it to the blog… maybe.  However now seems a perfect time to plug in some headphones, hit ‘random’ on the playlist, and see if I can either create some new audible monuments or just lose self in the moment.

…not a unique sentiment at the moment!

There is something deeply satisfying to me when the fogs of December come rolling in, especially in the early evenings, and the street lights flicker into life and cast the scenery with eerie punctuations of light and shadow.

I am also at my most reflective during these shadowed evenings, especially with all the dramas of life at the moment.  Sometimes just stopping by Abington Park, after karate, pumping up the mood music, opening the doors and taking a calm moment before continuing the journey, is required.

There’s probably a hundred reasons why it’s not a good idea, but there’s just as many as to why it is.  I think next time I try it I’ll source a good cup of java from somewhere.

A trip up to Scotland, especially at this time of year, has been too long a time coming and my batteries are in sore need of some recharging.

My karate, as with other things, has stalled.  Despite putting in what I feel is 100%, the execution seems to fall far short of the expected standard and the appearance of going backwards more than forwards is somewhat disheartening.

Maybe it’s just a recurrence of what a good friend once called “Blue belt blues”.

T’would seem my old managers favourite dictum, muttered every pay and bonus review time, has come back to haunt; “Remember, Andy, that 100% of nothing is still nothing”.

Wallowing, angst and other inglorious forms of self pity will of course be accompanied by some very loud music, in the Marilyn Mansun and Iron Maiden flavours methinks, and occassionally interspersed with some comedy genius.

…buggar!  Still not sorted this out either!

Unfortunately, and almost bizarrely,  NOTHING had happened at the point of exiting my usual Tuesday visit to Senior Karate Class.  There has been a couple of Incidents within the carpark, after the Senior class had finished, which almost makes me sound like some kind of pervert hanging around dark car parks at night.. not helped by the fact that both incidents seemed to involve at least two female colleagues from Karate.

“Tart” as a friend called me, and no matter how much you protest your innocence; it only seems to make you seem more.. more… something-or-other!

However, it was incident free.  Nothing extraordinary had happened, apart from me not making some kind of arse of myself as usual, and no unintended double-entendre’s had been uttered.  How uneventful.

I was just musing on how quickly a holiday can fade into memory, and even more on how much you get out of shape during said hols!!  The evidence m’learned colleages;

• First karate lesson after coming back from hols and I managed to completely destroy my hard man of karate persona (self delusion is a wonderful thing); Shouting Ichi! Ni! San! Shi!… and then squeaking like mickey mouse on helium “Go”, “Roku”…
• The Alfa Romeo has decided to act all Alfa Romeo’y and decide it wanted 450 of my finest english pounds to be spent on its lower regions (brakes, disks and bearings)
• My sunburnt head has now turned to a peeling head.. I look like a “shoulda used head-n-shoulders” disaster advert.
• 563 work emails on the first day back is never a fun thing to behold.
• The holidays are not even a week old and I feel like I need another one.

Ah well, there was always Senior Karate?  Unfortunately I was bloody awful!  I felt like somebody had strapped lead weights to the ends of my arms, which wasn’t clever as Sensei was not in a very forgiving mood today.  I think I caused at least one of the press-ups that were metered out as punishments, but not all the others.  I was sweating, heaving and panting by the end of the lesson.  Nice!

I wouldn’t mind all that, but it didn’t look like I had even BEEN on holiday.  I stood next to Libs and looked all wan and pale next to her gorgeously tanned self.. Even Sarah looked more tanned than me, and as far as I am aware she spent the past two weeks in rainy England.  *sigh*

Chewy condom anyone?

..and then to top it all off, as I stand in line at a BP Station to purchase some much needed cold beverage to throw down my parched throat, I hear from the two young teenage girls standing behind me; “Eeeerrgh! You’d think he’d be too old to need those!”.  I look down at the pack of chewing gum I have also decided to impulse buy.

I look up at the two girls, who look back at me like I’m the perv as described in the first paragraph of this blog post.

“Whoah, hang on…”

But it’s too late, they wander off.  So now it’s official, I am now too old for chewing gum, or worse.  I woulda given them a reverse shuto to the heads, but I was feeling my age and couldn’t even if I wanted to.

*double sigh* time to check the calendar and figure out when the next holiday is…

To be honest, and to great disappointment in some and relief to others, I haven’t had any major wobbles or mid-life-crisery with this particular milestone.. or in fact am particularly bothered by it.  For some reason I had a major wobble at 25, as my erstwhile friend in Scotland will avidly remember, and that’s it.

Apart from giving me an excuse to eat copious amounts of cream cakes and doughnuts, plus a damned good reason to demand gifts with menaces, I have entered my 40th year of life with a non-committal shrug of the shoulders and a “meh”.

That said, and despite all the gifts I received and which were gratefully received, I think the best presents I received were from my sprogs.. although I don’t think they intentionally went out and got these for my birthday.

A bit of a last huzzah from #1 son in his last year of Primary School, as he also received the School Governor’s award for excellence!

There’s nothing quite so soppy as a proud parent …apart from, possibly, an old soppy parent!

..It’s a brief respite until reality comes rudely crashing in.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lx58hXh4pVA

Or for you more traditional folks out there, the 80′s original;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p59L5eY51Jw

(shockingly crap video though!)

Words like violence
Break the silence
Come crashing in
Into my little world
Painful to me
Pierce right through me
Can’t you understand
Oh my little girl

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Enjoy the silence