Challenges, a 1000 words, a baby, a neurotic cat and a hectic time of year

It has been 10 days of the 1000 word challenge and it has not been an easy task to set. On one of the days I didn't write any words at all so the next day decided to do double. It was tough going to say the least. But I do notice the times I write about things which are relevant to my own life or stuff I know about then the words flow quiet easily. It's not so difficult on such occasions.  It was said the author of Catch 22, Joseph Heller used to set himself the task of writing one page a day. I remember watching him give an interview a long time ago. Well it would of been a long time ago because he's dead now. Anyway, it was good to listen to what he had to say. It took him at least 7 years to write this first book, going backwards and forwards with his editor. In fact the original title of this book was to be Catch 18, but he decided to change this as "18" was used in another title of a book published a little earlier than his own. It's a ironic he should change the original title when his main character Yossarian of Catch 22 had many problems with bureaucracy, in effect, Catch 22 had become a Catch 22 of itself, because it couldn't be 18.

I caught up with Sparkling yesterday and she told me what life was like looking after Princess J. Who has a new freedom to move about now she can crawl. Her inquisitive nature means there is never a moment when Sparkling is able to sit down and rest. Princess J has to be entertained full time and if she can will refuse to take her afternoon nap. When returned to Rock Chick the little Princess shortly goes to bed and sleeps a full 12 hours or more. Revitalising her energy and getting ready to take on the next day. She has now learnt to pull herself up onto her feet and look around as well. She would like to walk but isn't developed enough so falls down on her backside when she stands up too long. She is also a very funny little girl, who laughs at things which have no meaning at all. Then when trying to make her laugh she will refuse and put on her neutral face. If not her afraid face, well certainly when there are strangers about. The cat Olly has learnt to avoid her. He doesn't like the heavy hands of a baby trying to pull his fir out and he gets upset by it. Probably thinking Princess J is a form of small animal getting all the attention he doesn't get. His revenge is to meow at 3 a.m. and make Sparkling cranky.  If I was around he'd be making me cranky because I'd be getting an elbow in the ribs to sort him out.

I still do my best to get an hour in on the ukulele and but sometimes it just doesn't happen. Still Harvey does make me happy. Playing him is relaxing because it is so different from everything else I do, I love it.  The coordination of strumming and singing is still hard to pull off but I'm sure to get it some day. It's been over a year now and progress has certainly been made. I also recommend to everyone whenever I get a chance to play the ukulele, but I don't think there have been any takers. As Princess J grows up I'll try and influence her, that would be great.

The Fish Factory is hectic because of backlogs of work and the end of a financial year approaching. I can't think of a more difficult and stressful time in the Factory's calendar. I don't know how long it will be before I get a chance to see Sparkling but it's likely to be at least another 4 to 5 weeks and will be time for me to book a room in a padded cell, where there is nothing but piped calming music coming through all the time. Suddenly being woken up by a cat at 3 a.m. or exhausted by a baby, or even spending hours writing word after word after word is much more appealing.

OK back to the laptop, and to think of tonight's 1000 word subject.

The 1000 word a day challenge.

I read an article on the internet. It was about a man who set himself the challenge of writing 1000 words a day. He is making a living from being a blogger with a difference. Looking at the way people follow their dreams, how they change their lives and move on.  He was unfulfilled by his life and decided every job he’d done he hated. There was only one thing to do and it meant finding or making his own job, his own career.  The web he runs has ongoing interviews with successful people. Just as he has become, he asks them about what made them change their lives, go for their dream.  I listened to about ten minutes of an interview with a woman who had changed career several times, she he just re-invented herself, time and again. The thing was she had been successful in her original career working for a credit card company. She was able to travel the world, see the sights and at some point she got fed up with it and moved on to do something else. I found it odd how he interviewed someone who was already a success and had just moved from one career to another. Why could he of not picked on someone who’d come from a more deprived background I thought.  It was like the converted talking to the converted. Nothing was gained from it. However, this is untrue, for she must have had some quality of character to be successful time after time. She knew what it was she was doing, and it seemed to be on self marketing and knowing the area she wanted to impress upon. Maybe there was an arrogance about her, maybe there was something which didn’t quiet sound right to me, but I couldn’t continue with listening to the interview so didn’t.  Whether it was my own discontent coming through, or whether there was something I picked up from the woman being interviewed I can’t say. What I do know though is the 1000 word challenge sounds appealing, it sounds difficult, it sounds like a challenge. One which would be challenging to anyone.

The guy wrote writing every day was not just a discipline, it meant doing it even when he was not in the mood or could not even think of a thing to write. As if inspiration would come out of the air. Many times it just didn’t, but still he sat down in front of his computer and began hitting those keys. Putting in the graft. Before he knew it, it had become a habit.

I’m sure I could do it, and it would be difficult, especially when a certain level of concentration is required. There would be times when distraction could be a barrier and of course writers block. As if there is such a thing. I once read a cure for writers block was just to concentrate on the little thing, such as a brick in a wall and then write about it.  Then go on to the next brick in the wall, but it doesn’t take too long and before you know it there they are 1000 words. I sit here with a towel on my head waiting for the 15 year old wax conditioner I decided to put on to kick in and do something. I half expect when this towel is removed it will take half my scalp with it because it’s dried up.  Then the conditioner has really done it’s work. If you got no hair then you never have to worry about conditioning your scalp. Or going to the hairdressers.  I’m doing my best to continue with these words as they flow from somewhere, to hit this magic target then I can remove the towel.  Feck I sure hope I don’t get writers block now.

The man who set this challenge went on to describe it as being self revealing. How he had to be true to himself, reflect on things and open up.  He published his writings in his blog and then went on to start his own business. Again writing being involved in it but it didn’t mean he stopped his habit.  Now he had to fit in the 1000 words more than ever. There were times he noted when sitting down for the first part of his writing it would be a load of junk. But he just kept banging away at the keyboard and before he knew it there would be a gold nugget there. I wonder if this goes on a similar premise if you filled a room full of chimpanzees and keyboards they would eventually write the full bibliography of Shakespeare. Though personally I don’t think this is possible. Funny how from nowhere a saying pops up as if it should change the entire world, as if it is just common sense. Well, this saying isn’t. What he was getting across though was there are always barriers even those in yourself, which prevent you from doing something and you just have to jump over them.  Like a horse, or maybe a gazelle.  Or to take it to an extreme a hippopotamus, of course the hippo would have to be jumping over a fence in it’s own environment, the bottom of a river bed certainly not the same fence a horse would jump over. Which would be silly now.

Yesterday I began writing to this challenge, yet I cheated a bit and decided to count the words I’d already written while at work.  Emails and shit.  This attempt should really be discarded. For the juxt of this challenge is to write the 1000 words in a single sitting. No matter how long it takes. Just put them down in black and white, even if it means you sit there with a towel on your head while it begins to superglue to your scalp.  Then it could be called the challenge of a 1000 words versus the loss of 1000 hairs.  I sure hope this test will mean I’m bald tomorrow.  Yet there could be worse things to moan about, male pattern baldness is just another item to add to the list of an aging fat man.  Well the target has been hit. Better run to the sink and see what I’ve lost.

Sparkling's got a birthday

It's Sparkling's birthday today, and here I sit in London while she sits in Scotland, and I miss her because this is probably the first time in 16 years I've not been with her on this day.  I'll not say how old she is or even mention I could be considered as her toy boy in the circumstances, or only just in the circumstances.  Which she finds annoying and then in eight months time a loud reminder comes when she says I am old.  My birthday card which was sent by second class post arrived on time, which was great.  I put an effort into the card as well, using a few coloured pens to draw little things on it and make it stand out as personalised. Sad but I enjoyed pimping her card.  I had a little luck and managed to get a quick Skype call, during which Sparkles said I was looking old because there is grey in my beard.  She always points this out, it seems to give her some satisfaction. The camera does not lie, but there are times when it would be nice if it lied just a little bit.  Someone needs to invent software which automatically touches up the Skyped image, such as darkening grey beards, or hair and even taking away crows feet.  Such software would be more valuable than a session with a plastic surgeon. I don't know why cosmetic surgeons are called plastic as well, possibly on account of all those people who purchase their services and do so by credit card. Or even because of the stretched plastic look skin takes when it has been pinned back.  No such surgery for moi, I'm all natural and greying of course.  You gets what you see, like the software.

Amazon was used to place an order for Sparkling's birthday present and it has not turned up.  I should of realised it would take longer than expected these things always do.  The problem is there are three parts to this item and from different sellers. I'll request Sparkling not open any one of them until all three are there but this could fall on deaf ears. On account of Sparkles has a low patience threshold and likes things done right away. It goes more so with presents, it is curiosity. Way too much of it.

A subsequent Skype to Sparkling and I find she has opened one parcel of three so has a very good idea of what her prezzy is. darn. Next year it will be a donkey, lets see how she feels about that.

A fart and a mate

I'd love to have a famous friend, someone who might be an actor or just important and known to the world. We'd meet up maybe every six months for a drink and a chat, a general laugh and enjoy each other's company. Hopefully not like the friends you'd normally acquire like jewellery and then get discarded as they are out of fashion. Then on the other hand, maybe they don't have to be famous at all, just to have a connection which is meaningful and we both enjoy. Connecting with people is important, the thing is you never know when it is going to happen, who it is going to be or what the circumstances are when it comes about. Instantaneously, enlightening and mutually agreeable.

The other day when I went to the loo I sat down in the cubical. I'd been having a bit of a tummy upset. It plagued me the entire day.  Within a few seconds of getting seated out was let this enormously loud fart.  I mean it was explosive. Then there was a space of a second or so and a second very loud fart, followed by another short space in time and a third very loud fart.  The cubical next to mine was also occupied.  Someone else was sitting there and had heard these explosions. I don't know who it was but the was an eruption of laughter. It would of been an appropriate time for him to have shit himself with laughter I suppose, if it is possible. I know people can shite themselves when they drink to much and guess it may be true of laughter as well.  He said something along the lines of "blimey, that was loud". I replied, "well if you can't fart in a toilet where can you fart?" his response was, "you must work with a lot of women then." This is quiet true. I do, and it is difficult when it comes to farting around women.  It's like this is something they never do and certainly do no let on about because every woman in the world never farts in public.  They will do it in private but not a public or work place thing.  I don't know who the man was in the next cubical, but I liked him. I guess if we worked together then we'd both be able to fart without a care in the world.

I've never made a mate while having a fart, and it seems to me an interesting situation. Unfortunately I guess this was a one off life experience which will never happen again.

Oh well, better find the cork

Putting a knot in a ukulele G string

Well the expression getting your knickers in a twist, isn't anything like getting your ukulele string knotted. But it seems close enough to me.  This evening I sat down for the usual session with Harvey and rattled out a couple of tunes, one of which I sang to.  Counting time and singing still is difficult by the way and it's been a year.  When I decided I'd had enough of a string buzz.  I know it's a string buzz and not tinnitus because they sound quite a lot different. Even though in conversation with Sparkling she tried to influence my feeble mind by suggesting I was hearing things, again.  I definitely do know the difference.  So I know what string it is, it's a low G string I'd specially bought a few months ago and it has got to be something to do with the knot at one end. Hence knickers in a twist, because of the buzzing noise and of course a G string is also in reference to a type of underwear.  Which by the way I do not wear, have never worn and never intend to wear.  My name is not Borat.

So off I whip the low G string, followed by twenty minutes of undoing the knot. Followed by a quick search on Google to find out what sort of knot should actually be used.  Finding a knot called the Ashley Stopper I thought this would be it. This would stop the rattling.  So I work out how to do the Ashley Stopper manage to tie it and just to make sure it is tight and secure use two pairs of pliers to pull it together.  I admired my work and learnt something new, I should be given a Scout badge now. Except for being 40 years too late I would have one.  Anyway the next thing to do is get this knot slotted into the bridge of my ukulele.  Being an idiot I didn't consider the knot may actually now be too large.  It was. Too bloody large by far and would not fit in position.  It is the design of Harvey, his bridge isn't like normal bridges, it's a bridge way too far.  Heck it's the way I tell them.  Now though, as this knot has been pulled tight with the help of pliers I'm stuck in trying to undo the bloody thing.  Shit.  An hour chat with Sparkling Eyes, because I love her and miss her and she's not much good at giving advise on knots but this doesn't matter.  I listened to her story of how she had been defrauded by some unscrupulous people and desperately tried to unknot the knot.  An hour has now passed by and my practice session lasted only about ten minutes, with a little bit of strumming and bashing out Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire.

The knot is still knotted, G what does a man do when he's got no knickers and his fingers just are not up to the job of pulling strings.  Another day another ukulele.

New year's resolution, just remember

It's the time of year when new year's resolutions are made. The trick is not to put these in stone but rather a malleable material which allows itself a bit of space.  It's easy to fall off the wagon, I've done it a lot of times especially in the case of chocolate and crisps.  One item which is always on the list is to get fit.  Or just to get healthier, this is an abstract term and can mean healthy in many different aspects, exercise is just one, eating healthy another could be finding mental and emotional space from those things which cause stress. Losing weight is another aspect of being healthier as well. The latest diet news seems to indicate a bit of self starvation for a few days is actually very good for the body.  Damn, this sounds pretty extreme, but the scientific results are pretty clear, not only is weight hit but blood pressure lowers as well. Looking over the last year to see what I have consistently kept up with, it's been playing the ukulele.  At first I played it every single day, but then there were days I could not play it and felt disappointed in myself when this happened. However, I got back on the wagon again and played as soon as I could.  So have now a whole year of ukulele playing under my belt.  It is most definitely improving and my singing is coming along as well, although apparently singing and playing an instrument is much more difficult than just playing the instrument by itself.  I ask myself what it has been which kept me going strong over the year, and it has been self motivation.  I wanted to play the ukulele at least a year before I had owned one, maybe the waiting helped and made me more determined to do it. So this could be the same element needed when making  a new year's resolution. Be completely committed to it, pursue it with a single mind and it will happen. Of course this is probably true of everything in life

There are lots of things I'd like to do, speak French, learn to code, be a comic, a writer, a plumber, a carpenter, a electrician, a rich man (like the song), a management consultant, clown, full head of hair heart throb etc. Then the year goes by as it always does in a steady and progressive way. I hit the pub after the Fish Factory to relax and before I've known it part of my life has gone. Another bad habit ingrained.  Less time spent doing the things I should be doing. To learn how to plumb means finding a place to study, doing a course, having a real plumber there who can guide me through one project after the other. It takes time and effort. Everything is about effort as well. Given there are actually very few talented people in the world, because talent to do anything can only be fulfilled if effort, by time and practice is also put into it. Things drift, things happen, it rains, snows, and vehicles skid on roads. It is not possible to work and live and do everything you would like to do, it is only possible to do select things and so efforts are probably best chosen with motivations. Something you want to do is something you're more likely to do as a new year's resolution and keep on doing the whole year.

Then all of a sudden, looking down at this paunch of a belly and thinking getting healthy as a new year's resolution might not be so bad at all, if it is the only thing I have to worry about. My hair can drop out, as it will continue to do so, the taps will leak, the floors creak, the lights forever flicker, my pockets will not be full and running off to the circus is not an option but I am in part a heart throb to at least one person, well I hope so, (Sparkling Eyes).  Though she does give me a not so loving look when I'm not doing what she expects and my mind reading ability is just not up to her standard. This is not to mention with age I'm losing my memory and this may be the thing which prevents any resolution from going the full course.  There I have it, this year's new year's resolution is to keep my marbles, hold onto them with both hands as tightly as possible and in this way I'll stop forgetting what I should be doing it and then know what I am not doing, unforgivable maybe.

Better throw the red nose and big shoes out, or just stick them under the desk for the time being.

Heavy cold but great rendition of Johnny Cash

Yesterday I headed back from Scotland and got back to London. Winter and the constant rain just seems to add to the depression of this place. Even on the North East coast of Scotland there were days a good few days over the last two weeks when the sun didn't come out at all. Heavy clouds in the sky made it very dreary.  Not to mention the gale force winds we've had.  This could be why on the last few days of my visit I caught a cold come flu like virus. Probably handed to me from Sparkling who in turn had caught it from Princess J or Rock Chick. Runny nose, sore throat, coughing, up and down temperature, constant sneezing and my voice has dropped an octave. Like being woken up from a deep sleep, startled and wondering who the hell is waking you up. Usually some drunkard on the phone who loves you or wants you to join the party they are having for one at 4 a.m., possible 5 a.m. of course all depending when you hit the hay yourself.  Well, this is the kind of low pitched croaky voice I've been inflicted with at the moment. It even pains to speak suggesting a spot of laryngitis to add in this as well. I popped into the Fish Factory to do a couple of hours of work sniffed myself through 50 disposable handkerchiefs and then ran out with the runny nose in tow.

There is an advantage to having a gravel like voice and throat. Especially  when it comes to singing. Those low notes are much easier to drop down to, in fact it is like my voice is a complete octave lower, possibly more. It's hard to say, but it definitely is lower.  So I got Harvey out to give him a little strum as usual, even in a sneezing delirium he still sounds great and banged out a rendition of Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire. Damn, it sounded so good I thought I was sitting in the room and the real Johnny Cash had taken over my body and was singing through my throat.  The pain of 200 cigarettes a day and depression of Flotsam Prison and the law came through.  The song might of been about the passion of dangerous head-over-heals love, but it also had the associated deep sorrowful tones of Cash's own experiences. Damn it was good, I wish I'd recorded it but don't have the facilities. Another day maybe.  Which got me to thinking, if it is possible to sing this low while sick (let me add physically sick) then surely it must be possible to reach those same low notes when healthy, sobre, kicked the drug habit and out of prison. I'll give it a go and try with a bit more effort to see if  the performance can be repeated it when healthier than now.

Happy 2014

I wish everyone a very happy 2014, and happiness is next to love one of the most important things in any persons life.

My 2014 was seen in at a pub in Scotland, they had a live band playing, mind it is difficult to classify two men on stage as a band. More like a couple of blokes who like to play a tune. One played an electric guitar the other sang along. I've never heard a contemporary song in the voice of Barry Manilow until last night, it was odd because I said to L & B man he sounded like Barry and behold the choice afterwards was a Barry song.  I went to the dance floor and had a few silky steps with the girls it was great fun.  However, noted to myself not to mix too many tins of diet cola and Guinness. Pint after pint of Guinness was going to make me pissed so throwing in six tins of diet cola in between seemed to have an effect on my belly. At which point I slowed down the consumption.  One thing for sure is cola companies don't put a warning about it on the tin when perhaps they very well should do. It wasn't actually six tins anyway, it was three or perhaps four.  There is still a spare one in my coat pocket which I refused to leave in the pub, seeing as I'd already bought it.

Sparkling Eyes was working all night.  She says this is the worse time of year for bar staff, all them men suddenly take goggle eyes and at midnight wanted to kiss her. They all tell her how beautiful she is, it's a pity they don't pay her more money to prove how much they think of her. It's very difficult living of minimum wage. She did make some tips though and it was a good crowd. Even if the bar help which consisted of a pair of teenage twin girls were on a go slow.  The other barmaids happened to be a arthritic manager and a pregnant admin staff.  No wonder Sparkling's legs were killing her.

L & B man was able to drink and then support himself in a semi sleep posture while standing up and leaning on a kitchen counter. He stood there kind of wobbling. I and Sparkling managed to get him to sit down. He is a party animal and must of woken up at some point to find everyone had left.  We got home at four in the morning and then had a phone call from him at seven in the morning saying he was going to buy tickets to see Depeche Mode on new years day, somewhere in Europe, possibly Germany and wanted to know if we were going as well. Sparkling was up for it but I didn't have my passport so was going to be left behind tending the cat.  When the phone rang it woke me up from a coma.  Someone should hide the phones from L & B man when he's been pished.  I wonder how many other phone calls he made.  I do remember him saying to me in the kitchen he liked me, even though at times I could be a prick.  Great. My self image for 2014 has taken a battering already.

Poor Rock Chick, Princess J and Dangerous Sports lad are all suffering from a heavy cold or flu like thing. Rock has Dangerous running about while she has hit the hay.  Awwe poor thing. Sparkling tells me when she saw Princess J a day ago she lit up with this enormous big smile, while her nose ran snotty. I'm sure Rock has whipped up Dangerous to go running out to get supplies of lemsip, walk Princess J and generally make himself useful.  Apparently Dangerous gets told off quite a lot for being a man in general.  It's like we are genetically predispositions to be unable to read a woman's mind and when we fail badly she ends up telling us where we fail.  There's a new year's resolution for all us men, learn to read a woman's mind.  I'm sure there is an evening course on it.  If not there should be, I'd teach it myself, however would probably make a poor example.  Awwe I hope they all get over the cold soon and cheer up a little when they do.

So for the time being I sit upstairs with Harvey ready to play a couple of tunes, and of course doing my best to avoid watching "the sound of music" on TV, which Sparkling tells me she likes because it is a musical and I should know she likes musicals.  She does.  Except for the music I play on Harvey which for Sparkling seems to be more of a comedy thing than a musical.  Second resolution, learn to sing better, maybe like Julie Andrews.  Hell now that would be fecking weird.