5 days to go...
This will be my last post for a while.
(and when I say 'last post' I don't mean that bugle tune that they play when someone dies before anyone tries to read any subtext into this)
I'm getting married in the morning...well actually in a few mornings time but that does not scan so well. Then there's the honeymoon in Italy. So no posts from the geek for a while.
Truth is that I've found that there is a peculiar kind of madness involved in weddings that I suspect is only otherwise familiar to anyone who is involved in opera, the theatre or high fashion. Trivial questions over costume and stage directions suddenly become important - I honestly never thought I'd get sucked into it but one does rather find oneself worrying about who is sat next to who and whether so-and-so's waistcoat matches so-and-so's cravat.
(...and this is from someone who often finds himself wanting a communist uprising so that all difficult questions of wardrobe will resolve themselves into "which of my identical boiler suits shall I wear today?")
Instead of studying people in war zones. psychologists could easily use weddings as a way of studying mass hysteria. This is why the wedding is so beloved of film and TV scriptwriters. It's a form of emotional shorthand - stick in a wedding and the drama writes itself. You just know that feelings will run high, and that all bets are off.
People tune into a wedding episode of a popular TV show not because they are interested in the relationship of the participants but because they know that a wedding is comedic or dramatic gold. There will be comedic misunderstandings, revelations or conflicts. The bride and groom at the weddings of popular culture rarely make it to the reception - to be honest they're lucky if they get to the end of the vows.
Even Torchwood, which is resolutely Sci-Fi and dramatically uneven at the best of times, has tried a wedding episode. True, the bride was pregnant with an alien foetus and one of the guests was a shape changer but the principle is the same.
What I do know is that G and I are exceedingly lucky because ours is a small, simple wedding. The debate over the right kind of ribbon, the right order for the speeches and whether the bride should go before the bridesmaid have been relatively minor. This is good as I understand that things like this can lay the foundations for the grudges of the future.
How am I feeling? I'm very excited but also a little tense, nervous... haddock.
People have asked me if I'm anxious - of course I am!
But they might not appreciate what it is that I'm anxious about.
I'm anxious that somewhere in all the formality and general nuttiness I might fail to adequately communicate the most important message of all. So I just thought I'd say the following right here and now in this post (a blog is, like a wedding, a public declaration) .
The message is that I love G with all my heart and I'm such a lucky man to be marrying her. She's my lover, best friend and confidante and I mean to spend the rest of my life with her.
There, enough said.
Apologies for those of you who feel queasy at this point. Normal service will be resumed shortly.
Monday 15 September 2008
Saturday 6 September 2008
The saddest word...
14 days to go.
I have decided that the saddest word in the world is "Shopmobiliy".
This is not because I have any objection to the little scooter things. People with reduced mobility obviously want and need to get about. Although let's face it we've all suspected, even just for a moment, that a very very small proportion of the people utilising these scooters are simply being lazy or are drunk on power.
No. what I don't like is the word "Shopmobility". Shoppingmobility would be fine, as would the slightly clumsy mobility shopping.
But Shopmobility - the shops themselves are not moving! This must confuse small children all the time and they'll be expecting WHSmith to rear itself up on robotic legs and trample Sainsburys out of existence.
Oh, I feel I have an idea for an anime series coming on......
I have decided that the saddest word in the world is "Shopmobiliy".
This is not because I have any objection to the little scooter things. People with reduced mobility obviously want and need to get about. Although let's face it we've all suspected, even just for a moment, that a very very small proportion of the people utilising these scooters are simply being lazy or are drunk on power.
No. what I don't like is the word "Shopmobility". Shoppingmobility would be fine, as would the slightly clumsy mobility shopping.
But Shopmobility - the shops themselves are not moving! This must confuse small children all the time and they'll be expecting WHSmith to rear itself up on robotic legs and trample Sainsburys out of existence.
Oh, I feel I have an idea for an anime series coming on......
Wednesday 3 September 2008
More Victorian Olympics
17 days to go....
I don't know, first post for months and my computer explodes....
More Victorian Olympic events...
Forelock tugging
Points are awarded for cheekiness and general obsequiousness. Marks for artistic merit can be awarded to competitors who go for the optional and highly dangerous hat-doffing. This can be deadly and we all remember the tragic incident in which Frederick "Cheeky Rapscallion" O'Rourke was decapitated while attempting the infamous "Reverse Brougham Hat Doff" in a high wind.
Malicious lingering
In which the competitor must lurk around the property of a wealthy gentleman in such a way that the gentleman does not notice him and order his footman to "flog the blackguard". Champion in this event is Bert "Evening Squire" Mitchell who has single-handedly lowered property prices in the Mayfair district while remaining completely unknown to the local peelers.
Syphilis spreading
A popular spectator event which has no redeeming features and leaves the spectator feeling guilty. A bit like women's beach volleyball.
I don't know, first post for months and my computer explodes....
More Victorian Olympic events...
Forelock tugging
Points are awarded for cheekiness and general obsequiousness. Marks for artistic merit can be awarded to competitors who go for the optional and highly dangerous hat-doffing. This can be deadly and we all remember the tragic incident in which Frederick "Cheeky Rapscallion" O'Rourke was decapitated while attempting the infamous "Reverse Brougham Hat Doff" in a high wind.
Malicious lingering
In which the competitor must lurk around the property of a wealthy gentleman in such a way that the gentleman does not notice him and order his footman to "flog the blackguard". Champion in this event is Bert "Evening Squire" Mitchell who has single-handedly lowered property prices in the Mayfair district while remaining completely unknown to the local peelers.
Syphilis spreading
A popular spectator event which has no redeeming features and leaves the spectator feeling guilty. A bit like women's beach volleyball.
Friday 22 August 2008
1898 Olympics
29 days to go...
Still addicted to the Olympics.
Having watched an Olympic news report the other night about the Victorian Olympics I was shocked to learn that Deer shooting was once an Olympic sport.
Deer shooting! That was a obviously a sport that the whole of the populace could empathise with!
Inspired by this most unlikely of revelations I put my mind to speculating what other events would be found on the 1898 Olympic roster.
Chimney sweeping (Time trial)
A popular event in which those damnable urchins the lower classes seem to constantly produce (probably as a primitive means of keeping warm) are finally put to some practical use in cleaning chimneys in a timely fashion. This season some of the more enthusiastic coaches have hit upon the idea of lighting the fire while the event is in progress as a form of encouragement.
Chimney sweeping (Rhythmic)
The rhythmic chimney sweeping event has nothing to do with actual chimney sweeping and is instead based on the sweep's ability to sing and dance (possibly about bamboo) while affecting a terrible east end accent and trying to seduce middle-class nannies. The Olympic council facing pressure this year to add similar events for other menial classes so they can, for instance, advise people about their matrimonial prospects for the following day.
Harlot Murdering
In which the competitor, a gentleman obviously, makes every effort to murder as many ladies of dubious virtue as possible while evading capture by those damnable peelers. Extra points are awarded for ingenious dissections. It is believed that the reigning Olympic champion, a Mr J.T. Ripper, has not yet collected his gold medal after his spectacular performance during the 1882 Olympiad.
Still addicted to the Olympics.
Having watched an Olympic news report the other night about the Victorian Olympics I was shocked to learn that Deer shooting was once an Olympic sport.
Deer shooting! That was a obviously a sport that the whole of the populace could empathise with!
Inspired by this most unlikely of revelations I put my mind to speculating what other events would be found on the 1898 Olympic roster.
Chimney sweeping (Time trial)
A popular event in which those damnable urchins the lower classes seem to constantly produce (probably as a primitive means of keeping warm) are finally put to some practical use in cleaning chimneys in a timely fashion. This season some of the more enthusiastic coaches have hit upon the idea of lighting the fire while the event is in progress as a form of encouragement.
Chimney sweeping (Rhythmic)
The rhythmic chimney sweeping event has nothing to do with actual chimney sweeping and is instead based on the sweep's ability to sing and dance (possibly about bamboo) while affecting a terrible east end accent and trying to seduce middle-class nannies. The Olympic council facing pressure this year to add similar events for other menial classes so they can, for instance, advise people about their matrimonial prospects for the following day.
Harlot Murdering
In which the competitor, a gentleman obviously, makes every effort to murder as many ladies of dubious virtue as possible while evading capture by those damnable peelers. Extra points are awarded for ingenious dissections. It is believed that the reigning Olympic champion, a Mr J.T. Ripper, has not yet collected his gold medal after his spectacular performance during the 1882 Olympiad.
Sunday 17 August 2008
Running, jumping, climbing trees...
34 days to go
Strangely addicted to the Olympics at the moment.
I don't know what it is about the Olympics that makes sport acceptable to me for a couple of weeks every four years. Perhaps that's my sport tolerance limit? Perhaps it's because the marking system of gold, silver and bronze is straightforward enough that I can bring myself to care - if you watch athletics at any other time it's more a case of "anonymous athlete A has run slightly faster than anonymous athlete B, hurrah!" but if there is a circle of precious metal at stake then I can fixate on that.
In any case, every four years I suddenly decide to take an interest in other people exerting themselves.
Where has this Team GB business come from? We all seemed to manage to call the athletes 'The British Team' in previous contests. Is the Olympic reporting airtime at such a premium that shorter team names are necessary?
In the London Olympics is the British team going to be called 'TGB' to shorten things further?
Where can we go from there? I can confidently predict that the British Team in the 2016 Olympics will be referred to by a short burst of static that sounds like a ZX81 loading.
Anyway, I'm off to watch the women's beach volleyball. I'd write more but I need both hands to type....
Strangely addicted to the Olympics at the moment.
I don't know what it is about the Olympics that makes sport acceptable to me for a couple of weeks every four years. Perhaps that's my sport tolerance limit? Perhaps it's because the marking system of gold, silver and bronze is straightforward enough that I can bring myself to care - if you watch athletics at any other time it's more a case of "anonymous athlete A has run slightly faster than anonymous athlete B, hurrah!" but if there is a circle of precious metal at stake then I can fixate on that.
In any case, every four years I suddenly decide to take an interest in other people exerting themselves.
Where has this Team GB business come from? We all seemed to manage to call the athletes 'The British Team' in previous contests. Is the Olympic reporting airtime at such a premium that shorter team names are necessary?
In the London Olympics is the British team going to be called 'TGB' to shorten things further?
Where can we go from there? I can confidently predict that the British Team in the 2016 Olympics will be referred to by a short burst of static that sounds like a ZX81 loading.
Anyway, I'm off to watch the women's beach volleyball. I'd write more but I need both hands to type....
Sunday 18 May 2008
Doctor in the Tardis (Redux)
125 days to go
OK, so we're now halfway through the new series of Doctor Who and what have we got.
On the good side, a lot of people (myself included) who audibly sighed when they read that Catherine Tate was to be given the Doctor's Assistant gig have had to eat their words with a side order of humble pie and admit that actually, she's not half bad. The occasional foray into "how very dare you" territory notwithstanding she provides a good foil for the central character and manages to prick the bubble of the Doctor's pomposity.
The return of the Sontarans was also handled well as the show continues to strike a balance between drawing on the mythology of the classic series and creating its own. There have also been some really comic set pieces this year and although some Who fans can't abide comedy, if it's done well I love it.
On the negative side there have been a couple of iffy elements - the special effects on the Ood episode weren't up to the job of portraying a huge pulsating brain (inflatable blancmange anyone?) and the 'Doctor's Daughter' episode was a bit of a damp squib with lots of ideas but only a single episode in which to develop them.
(Still don't know what to think about the giant wasp)
All in all a much stronger season than season two while not, so far, reaching the heights of seasons one and three (ignoring the concluding episode of season three which was bobbins).
With the pieces gradually being moved into place for the finale it'll be interesting to see where the last 6 episodes take us....
OK, so we're now halfway through the new series of Doctor Who and what have we got.
On the good side, a lot of people (myself included) who audibly sighed when they read that Catherine Tate was to be given the Doctor's Assistant gig have had to eat their words with a side order of humble pie and admit that actually, she's not half bad. The occasional foray into "how very dare you" territory notwithstanding she provides a good foil for the central character and manages to prick the bubble of the Doctor's pomposity.
The return of the Sontarans was also handled well as the show continues to strike a balance between drawing on the mythology of the classic series and creating its own. There have also been some really comic set pieces this year and although some Who fans can't abide comedy, if it's done well I love it.
On the negative side there have been a couple of iffy elements - the special effects on the Ood episode weren't up to the job of portraying a huge pulsating brain (inflatable blancmange anyone?) and the 'Doctor's Daughter' episode was a bit of a damp squib with lots of ideas but only a single episode in which to develop them.
(Still don't know what to think about the giant wasp)
All in all a much stronger season than season two while not, so far, reaching the heights of seasons one and three (ignoring the concluding episode of season three which was bobbins).
With the pieces gradually being moved into place for the finale it'll be interesting to see where the last 6 episodes take us....
Tuesday 8 April 2008
Most certainly not coming to acinema near you...
I realise that I've not posted for a while, but I wonder if you could do me a favour.....
Recently at work I was asked (pressurised, cajoled etc.) into making a short video 'tour' of highlights from the collection of the museum where I work in order to pop on the web.
The resulting film is dull, far too long, static and (because I had a cold) makes me sound incredibly pompous but it would be incredibly chuff-some if you could log onto YouTube and take a gander. Who knows, you might like to write something (hopefully) complimentary about it!
(Just as long as I'm beating Engelsea Brook Museum of Methodism's viewing figures!)
The link is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mHhHEXCjVA or alternatively just type 'Warrington Museum' and select the 'A Short Tour of Warrington Museum' film.
cheers m'dears!
Recently at work I was asked (pressurised, cajoled etc.) into making a short video 'tour' of highlights from the collection of the museum where I work in order to pop on the web.
The resulting film is dull, far too long, static and (because I had a cold) makes me sound incredibly pompous but it would be incredibly chuff-some if you could log onto YouTube and take a gander. Who knows, you might like to write something (hopefully) complimentary about it!
(Just as long as I'm beating Engelsea Brook Museum of Methodism's viewing figures!)
The link is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mHhHEXCjVA or alternatively just type 'Warrington Museum' and select the 'A Short Tour of Warrington Museum' film.
cheers m'dears!
Wednesday 5 March 2008
another secret shame.....
(199 days to go...)
I want to share with you another of my secret shames.
I actually don't like strawberries very much.
This seems to be a cardinal sin. Turn down a raspberry or a gooseberry and you're fine. Turn down a strawberry and everyone looks at you like you've just kicked an orphan downstairs.
I think it's because the strawberry seems too smug and jolly for my liking. Therefore I shun the uncomplicated optimism of the strawberry for the damaged and needy blackberry and the cynical blackcurrant.
I also think it's because my father, a keen gardener, always maintained that the best way to grow strawberries was to use lots of manure. As a result we had a huge pile of manure delivered outside our house every year.
A a result the strawberry is irrevocably associated in my mind with horse poo.
Enjoy Wimbledon 2008 everybody!
I want to share with you another of my secret shames.
I actually don't like strawberries very much.
This seems to be a cardinal sin. Turn down a raspberry or a gooseberry and you're fine. Turn down a strawberry and everyone looks at you like you've just kicked an orphan downstairs.
I think it's because the strawberry seems too smug and jolly for my liking. Therefore I shun the uncomplicated optimism of the strawberry for the damaged and needy blackberry and the cynical blackcurrant.
I also think it's because my father, a keen gardener, always maintained that the best way to grow strawberries was to use lots of manure. As a result we had a huge pile of manure delivered outside our house every year.
A a result the strawberry is irrevocably associated in my mind with horse poo.
Enjoy Wimbledon 2008 everybody!
Tuesday 26 February 2008
What I'm watching....
In the same way that I drink too much coffee, live inside my head too much (and eat too much...well, just about everything) it's a well known fact that I watch too much television.
Sooooo, I just thought I'd quickly update you with a few details about what I'm watching on TV at the moment
(those of you eschew the television and, indeed, like to compete with others over how little TV you actually watch can look away now).
Ashes to Ashes: I loved 'Life and Mars' and feared that this spin off was going to be a heartless cash in. It is a spin off, and it does cash in on the previous series' legacy but (and it's an important but) it stops just short of retreading old ground. In 'Life on Mars' the main character was unsure whether he was in a coma or had actually travelled back in time to the 1970s. This time around the main character Alex Drake is certain that she is either in a coma or moments away from death and refuses to believe she is back in the 1980s. Part of me hopes to have the self-satisfied look wiped on her face while the rest of me wonders whether women really wore so many off-the shoulder jumpers in the 1980s and why I didn't notice at the time.
Moving Wallpaper/Echo Beach: I love anything that is self referential and I particularly like meta fiction (i.e. fiction about fiction) so this intrigues me. For those who haven't seen it, it's two shows - the first one is a sitcom about the making of a fictional soap and the following programme is the soap itself. It just about works as a concept and continuity freaks like myself can enjoy spotting props, dialogue and plot lines in the second programme that are merely referred to in passing in the first. The major drawback with the whole premise is that Echo Beach (the soap) is so awful. Don't get me wrong - I realise that it is meant to be awful - just not this awful.
Skins: Now, I realise that as a man in his thirties I'm hardly the target audience for this drama but it really is very good indeed. All the promotional material for the series make it look like a drug-fuelled hedonistic party of a show and those elements certainly are there - but as context rather than subject. What lifts it above this is the fantastic ensemble cast and a rich vein of dark humour. It's also great fun spotting an older generation of comics and comic actors - including Harry Enfield, Bill Bailey and Josie Lawrence - as the parents
Sooooo, I just thought I'd quickly update you with a few details about what I'm watching on TV at the moment
(those of you eschew the television and, indeed, like to compete with others over how little TV you actually watch can look away now).
Ashes to Ashes: I loved 'Life and Mars' and feared that this spin off was going to be a heartless cash in. It is a spin off, and it does cash in on the previous series' legacy but (and it's an important but) it stops just short of retreading old ground. In 'Life on Mars' the main character was unsure whether he was in a coma or had actually travelled back in time to the 1970s. This time around the main character Alex Drake is certain that she is either in a coma or moments away from death and refuses to believe she is back in the 1980s. Part of me hopes to have the self-satisfied look wiped on her face while the rest of me wonders whether women really wore so many off-the shoulder jumpers in the 1980s and why I didn't notice at the time.
Moving Wallpaper/Echo Beach: I love anything that is self referential and I particularly like meta fiction (i.e. fiction about fiction) so this intrigues me. For those who haven't seen it, it's two shows - the first one is a sitcom about the making of a fictional soap and the following programme is the soap itself. It just about works as a concept and continuity freaks like myself can enjoy spotting props, dialogue and plot lines in the second programme that are merely referred to in passing in the first. The major drawback with the whole premise is that Echo Beach (the soap) is so awful. Don't get me wrong - I realise that it is meant to be awful - just not this awful.
Skins: Now, I realise that as a man in his thirties I'm hardly the target audience for this drama but it really is very good indeed. All the promotional material for the series make it look like a drug-fuelled hedonistic party of a show and those elements certainly are there - but as context rather than subject. What lifts it above this is the fantastic ensemble cast and a rich vein of dark humour. It's also great fun spotting an older generation of comics and comic actors - including Harry Enfield, Bill Bailey and Josie Lawrence - as the parents
Friday 15 February 2008
Chasing the Dragon
Last weekend Tallulah and I visited the Chinese New Year celebrations.
Now, for those of you unable to to tell the difference between Chinese and English New Year I've supplied the following guide:
Chinese New Year involves an authentic dragon procession while English New Year involves a drunken conga.
Chinese New Year involves firecrackers while English New Year involves damp party poppers.
Chinese New Year involves lighting incense praying to Buddha for good luck while English New Year involves lighting up a cigarette whilst stood in a bus stop praying that your hangover won't be too bad.
(* For Scottish New Year take English New Year and add a) Whiskey and b) Scottish Folk Dancing. If anyone has found a way of preventing Scottish people initiating folk dancing or at least minimising the resulting emotional distress, then please let me know).
Anyway, Tallulah and I had a good time following the procession, eating Chinese food, offering prayers to Buddh
a and enjoying demonstrations of Kung Fu, Dance and Song (whilst trying not to laugh at a particular Chinese cultural instrument that sounds like a duck farting).Anyway, here are some pics.
Tuesday 12 February 2008
Cotswold stoned
As it has been a while I just thought I'd let you all know what I've been up to.
Tallulah and I visited Oxfordshire and the Cotswolds for a week at the end of January in order to visit my mother (still poorly) and see friends and relatives. Seeing Oxfordshire again - after not having visited the city for a year - I realise how much I love it's obviously not the Oxfordshire I remember growing up in. A bit like recalling a particular summer I suppose - it doesn't matter what actually happened back then, just the fact that you remember it as being a good time.
We went out into the Cotswolds because, much though I like Manchester (still unsure if it likes me), sometimes one needs a little breathing space and some green. Felt a yearning for the honey-coloured stone of my homeland that I had to scratch...
For those of you who have never been to the Cotswolds I offer the following guide:
a) It's all very green except for the people who are, on
b) The Cotswolds still operate on the barter system, so take a chicken.
c) The inhabitants are all very wealthy - so make it an antique chicken (regency for preference)
d) The inhabitants are all country folk who appreciate rural crafts - like running over your pet in a 4 x 4.
I now append a photograph of one of a bustling metropolis in the Cotswolds. Witness the simmering urban tension.
Visited Cheltenham for the first time too. The best way I can describe Cheltenham is 'Bath on a budget'. It has a lot of the same Regency spa town feel - but Cheltenham feels a little contrived in comparison to it's bigger more cousin which probably throws the whole 'Jane Austen' connection in Cheltenham's face at every family gathering.
One thing that Bath does not have is a "Wishing Fish Clock" (at least to my knowledge) . Obviously, when I heard this I had to go and have a look and it certainly the finest example of a piscine-related wish time measuring device of wish fufilment that one could hope for - a photograph is appended below
On the way back home to the North we visited the Bicester Retail Park. This may have been a mistake as Tallulah has now discovered that they have a Jimmy Choo outlet there - which she proceeded to approach with all the reverence of a pilgrim approaching the shrine of Saint Horace (patron saint of forgetting to set the video).
Tallulah and I visited Oxfordshire and the Cotswolds for a week at the end of January in order to visit my mother (still poorly) and see friends and relatives. Seeing Oxfordshire again - after not having visited the city for a year - I realise how much I love it's obviously not the Oxfordshire I remember growing up in. A bit like recalling a particular summer I suppose - it doesn't matter what actually happened back then, just the fact that you remember it as being a good time.
We went out into the Cotswolds because, much though I like Manchester (still unsure if it likes me), sometimes one needs a little breathing space and some green. Felt a yearning for the honey-coloured stone of my homeland that I had to scratch...
For those of you who have never been to the Cotswolds I offer the following guide:
a) It's all very green except for the people who are, on
b) The Cotswolds still operate on the barter system, so take a chicken.
c) The inhabitants are all very wealthy - so make it an antique chicken (regency for preference)
d) The inhabitants are all country folk who appreciate rural crafts - like running over your pet in a 4 x 4.
I now append a photograph of one of a bustling metropolis in the Cotswolds. Witness the simmering urban tension.
Visited Cheltenham for the first time too. The best way I can describe Cheltenham is 'Bath on a budget'. It has a lot of the same Regency spa town feel - but Cheltenham feels a little contrived in comparison to it's bigger more cousin which probably throws the whole 'Jane Austen' connection in Cheltenham's face at every family gathering.
One thing that Bath does not have is a "Wishing Fish Clock" (at least to my knowledge) . Obviously, when I heard this I had to go and have a look and it certainly the finest example of a piscine-related wish time measuring device of wish fufilment that one could hope for - a photograph is appended below
On the way back home to the North we visited the Bicester Retail Park. This may have been a mistake as Tallulah has now discovered that they have a Jimmy Choo outlet there - which she proceeded to approach with all the reverence of a pilgrim approaching the shrine of Saint Horace (patron saint of forgetting to set the video).
Tuesday 8 January 2008
No socks plrease, we're British!
In order to shine a light into the Geek's domestic arrangements I include the following conversation:
Geek: "I hate bedsocks"
Tallulah: "But you wear socks in bed, don't you?"
Geek: "Occasionally, but they are not bedsocks"
Tallulah: "If you wear the socks in bed then they are bedsocks".
Geek: "No. I may wear socks in bed, but they are not bedsocks".
Tallulah: "What kind of socks do you wear in bed then?"
Geek: "Occasionally I wear socks in bed but they are only socks that I happen to wear in bed, not 'bedsocks' which are socks that are specifically designed with the express intention of being worn in bed".
Tallulah: "Surely it is better to wear socks in bed that are specifically designed to be worn in bed rather than standard socks".
Geek: "No, because if I wear socks (of the non-bedsock variety) in bed I can deny the bedsock element by convincing myself that in fact I am merely by sheer co-incidence wearing socks in bed. If I wear bedsocks in bed I am faced with the stark reality that I am, in fact, wearing bedsocks in bed".
Tallulah: "I'm leaving you".
There you have it. As a 34 year man who has been in a stable and loving relationship for 6 years I reserve the right to occasionally wear socks in bed in the heart of the cruel midwinter. This does not, however, mean that I am ready to wear bedsocks. One has to have standards!
Geek: "I hate bedsocks"
Tallulah: "But you wear socks in bed, don't you?"
Geek: "Occasionally, but they are not bedsocks"
Tallulah: "If you wear the socks in bed then they are bedsocks".
Geek: "No. I may wear socks in bed, but they are not bedsocks".
Tallulah: "What kind of socks do you wear in bed then?"
Geek: "Occasionally I wear socks in bed but they are only socks that I happen to wear in bed, not 'bedsocks' which are socks that are specifically designed with the express intention of being worn in bed".
Tallulah: "Surely it is better to wear socks in bed that are specifically designed to be worn in bed rather than standard socks".
Geek: "No, because if I wear socks (of the non-bedsock variety) in bed I can deny the bedsock element by convincing myself that in fact I am merely by sheer co-incidence wearing socks in bed. If I wear bedsocks in bed I am faced with the stark reality that I am, in fact, wearing bedsocks in bed".
Tallulah: "I'm leaving you".
There you have it. As a 34 year man who has been in a stable and loving relationship for 6 years I reserve the right to occasionally wear socks in bed in the heart of the cruel midwinter. This does not, however, mean that I am ready to wear bedsocks. One has to have standards!
Sunday 6 January 2008
New Year (Lack of ) Resolutions
First off I'd like to wish my dwindling number of readers a Happy New Year.
2007 has been a difficult year for the geek having started with the most difficult exhibition I've ever worked on. March was great because I asked Tallulah to marry me (and sometime around April or May she stopped saying "OHMiGod" long enough to say yes). June saw a great birthday party for my beloved but also saw the heaven's open. July saw Tallulah fall ill and she only really recovered shortly before our September trip to Amsterdam. October to November was a period of really hard work at work and saw my mother fall ill and then December was the usual combination of shopping and soul searching.
All of which is a roundabout way of explaining why I've once again failed in my resolution to update this blog more often. Blame the past year, blame my workload, blame society, blame the addictiveness of Facebook (erm, actually the latter IS probably largely to blame) but I just haven't been putting in the hours at the keyboard that I used to.
What I won't do is promise that I can update it very often - I don't make promises when I believe that there is a chance that I can't fufil them (your starter question for ten is: exactly how annoying is this peccadillo as far as Tallulah is concerned?) - but what I will do is promise to update it more often. Unless there is a nuclear war, or a bird-flu epidemic, or if I simply can't be arsed.
2007 has been a difficult year for the geek having started with the most difficult exhibition I've ever worked on. March was great because I asked Tallulah to marry me (and sometime around April or May she stopped saying "OHMiGod" long enough to say yes). June saw a great birthday party for my beloved but also saw the heaven's open. July saw Tallulah fall ill and she only really recovered shortly before our September trip to Amsterdam. October to November was a period of really hard work at work and saw my mother fall ill and then December was the usual combination of shopping and soul searching.
All of which is a roundabout way of explaining why I've once again failed in my resolution to update this blog more often. Blame the past year, blame my workload, blame society, blame the addictiveness of Facebook (erm, actually the latter IS probably largely to blame) but I just haven't been putting in the hours at the keyboard that I used to.
What I won't do is promise that I can update it very often - I don't make promises when I believe that there is a chance that I can't fufil them (your starter question for ten is: exactly how annoying is this peccadillo as far as Tallulah is concerned?) - but what I will do is promise to update it more often. Unless there is a nuclear war, or a bird-flu epidemic, or if I simply can't be arsed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)