Navel Gaze Alert

It was Katy - she made me do it, because…

I am weak and powerless against the attraction of memes.

I want things that make my life easier, or until then the realisation that my life is already very easy.

I wish I could turn invisible at will, could fly and I never have to sleep. And put on about 40 pounds, but I eat like a horse and remain a spritely wisp.

I hate reality tv and humidity.

I love rivers and many things besides. (New York, Asus2, Maseratis, pannacotta, the smell before it rains, tigers, November, dawn)

I miss the deep snows they had when I was growing up.

I fear cockroaches.

I hear harmonies in stupid things. I used to work in an office where my phone’s busy signal produced the most amazing harmony with the dialtone of colleague’s phone across the room which was always on speaker. This was made better by the fact that is was often infrequent and seldom expected. It used to give me goosebumps – but it was incredible. I never mentioned this to anyonein the office, of course, for fear of looking wierd; preferring instead for boffins to invent the internet where I would share it with millions of people some years later.

I wonder what will happen to church attendances over the next 50 years.

I regret often following up sincerity with a swift footnote of cynicism. It doesn’t offset the fact that can be honest and kind and I should just let the good vibes linger out there. But…

I am not the happy outgoing sort. I am generally a melancholy fellow who laughs a lot because I’m looking for the bright side.

I dance like Fred Flintstone. And given that, rarely.

I sing OK, but not great. I write songs, but I don’t have the time to do the whole band thing as much as I would like, so what the hell. I can write a decent tune and I have a good ear.

I cry sometimes when other people do. It never helps.

I am not always paying attention. I can wander off in thought.

I make with my hands pumpkin, ricotta and walnut ravioli that would make you doubt whether you have lived.

I write lots and easily. I find it hard not to write. It is the easiest thing in the world for me to do. Keeping a blog isn’t a commitment to me any more than walking.

I confuse dishwashers with washing machines when I’m talking about domestic things.

I should sleep more, but I seem to operate fine on 6 hours a night tops. I should also throw away my cigars.

I start the day with a cold steely gaze, square off to fate and say “right, what have you got?” Only joking, same as everyone else, I guess, one foot in front of the other.

I finish with a whiskey, usually.

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