Here We Go Again
New year: New rash promise to self to be better about blogging. We'll see.
2012 got off to a very quiet start - our now traditional dinner party for the friends who live within five minutes walk benefitted from The Mrs and I being unusually organised about things well in advance, but suffered from everyone being a bit knackered. So the usual post-midnight extension of dinner via a big cheese selection and the evening via several rounds of a random game didn't really materialise, and we saw them off around 1am and were in bed by 1.30. I'm sure it was just the general tiredness, but the hyper-hospitable part of me has been fretting ever since that it was a bit of a rubbish evening.
When not entertaining over the break we gave a fair chunk of time over to the new Star Wars MMO, The Old Republic, which The Mrs for one has been eagerly anticipating for at least two years, and which I have to admit is very effectively filling the gap that my complete turning-off from World of Warcraft had left. I'm in no way as gripped by it as The Mrs, but there's a lot to be said for running around swinging a lightsaber and using the Force to throw heavy objects at bad guys. Makers Bioware have captured the feel of the films really, really well.
As of last night a couple of our old WoW-playing mates have come and joined us on our server, we've formed a little guild, and suddenly the social aspect of the game, which is the thing that makes MMOs work for me in ways that most computer games don't (as previously discussed here more than once) has a chance to take off and really make the game come alive. I shall probably be mentioning this more in the future.
In other news, The Mrs has finally been able to talk about the Top Secret Project that occupied much of his time in the latter half of last year here, so I'm happy to be able to bask in a bit of reflected cool.
Happy 2012.
On The Subject Of Categories
(As I just was.)
It occurs to me that I should note the migration of my old blog posts to this new server and installation of WordPress wasn't entirely seamless, and all my old tags dropped. The names of the tags became names of categories, but the tag - post associations were lost. Hence the very large number of uncategorised posts listed over there. I went back over a couple of dozen of the recent posts to populate some of them, but doing 2,500 old ones is a bit of a grim prospect.
I'll try to do *some* over time, but don't expect it to be any time soon.
Ten From Ten – The L Word. And The M Word
Originally posted the 28th of July 2004. Look, realistically there was no way this wasn't going to be the tenth of these. The single biggest thing to happen to me in the last ten years is meeting, falling in love with and marrying The Mrs, so what else was the subject of this going to be? And of the various posts that refer to these developments, the one in which I first announced the start of things is probably the most relevant, because it speaks to my life at that point and why these developments were such a shock.
I remember announcing this here and over at Millarworld (which was the community I was most closely involved with at the time) pretty much simultaneously and The Mrs being a bit stunned when a couple of hundred people who'd never heard of him across the two locations all got very excited for us. The Millarworld thread is long gone, but the original comments here remain. For all sorts of very obvious reasons, this is probably my favourite of the two and a half thousand posts from the first ten years.
Ok, it's time to come clean about some stuff. I've been waiting to be able to tell a couple of people personally before going more public with this, which I now have, so now I can.
I've mentioned that I'm attached these days, and that I'm very happy. I've mentioned the damn near perfect time we spent in Rye last weekend. I've even mentioned that I'm prepared to acknowledge that I was wrong about something (and that never happens).
A couple of people have joined the dots, but just to get explicit:
I am utterly, passionately, unashamedly and overwhelmingly in love.
This is not an admission I expected to make any time soon - you all know how cynical I am about life generally and relationships in particular, but here I am.
In many ways, and for many actually very good reasons, I'd settled to regard myself as one of life's 'designed-to-be-single' people. I've been quite damaged emotionally over the years, in ways that stem from both previous relationships and earlier experiences, and I'd reached the conclusion that I was in fact too damaged to feel the good emotions again. And I was at least resigned to the consequences of that, and really even okay with them.
An experience I had recently when a perfectly delightful young man and I started getting on very well, which I had to end when I realised that I simply didn't/couldn't feel a greater emotional connection to him than that of friendship (you know who you are - sorry again), reinforced in me the fact that somewhere inside, I wasn't capable of being in love for real.
But I was wrong. And now I want to shout it from the rooftops. He's my man, and I'm his. And I don't ever want that to change. Me: Cynical git, misanthrope and all-round pessimist. Except I'm not any more, because he makes me be better than that.
And the thing that I was wrong about? Read this and then come back to watch me eat my words.
Done? Then I'll admit it: Over dinner at the weekend, I found myself starting a sentence and only realising as I did what the only possible next sentence was going to be. Sentence one was that I couldn't think of any reason why I wouldn't want what I'm feeling right now to last forever, and that I could actually think of a lot of very good reasons why I'd rather it did.
Sentence two therefore involved me asking him to marry me.
And he said yes.
And yes, I still think on some level that it would be better that we don't ape heterosexual conventions and create our own, but I want us to be recognised with the same validity as a straight couple would be. And given the state of the law in the UK it's going to be a *long* engagement. But we'll wait.
I don't recognise myself at the moment, but whoever I am, he's a big improvement.
Ten From Ten – A Major Error Of Judgement
Originally posted the 17th April 2006 - I wanted to balance a couple of the rather heavier rerun posts I’ve used in this exercise with something lighter and with a linked cute photo just to ramp up the ‘Aw!’ factor.
One more of these to go, which I’m actually going to hold off until tomorrow, even though today’s the anniversary.
So here I am ten years after starting this - seriously wouldn’t have expected to get here when I first started, and even though there’s been some on again/off again, I’ve posted just over 2,500 entries, so an average of over 20 a month. I’m not going to make the same occasional mistake I’ve made of setting a big new direction for the blog to mark the occasion - just going to see where I go with it.
Thanks for reading. Now on with the cute:
Don't tell me you've never done it; taken one look into a pair of stunning blue eyes and found yourself taking someone home who you really shouldn't have. Well, that was the big Saturday mistake in our house.
In defence, I should stress that there was no big intention to introduce a stranger into the soon-to-be marital home when Saturday dawned, and nor was the stress that the whole thing would create on David and I at all foreseen. In fact, the intention was that we'd all get something out of the deal. How wrong can you be?
But seriously - could you resist this guy??????
What? What did you think I was talking about?
We saw that little fella, and having been vaguely contemplating getting a playmate for Gramsci for a while, we fell into that thing we do too often, which is not think through the consequences of what we're doing. As soon as we got him home and realised how badly Gramsci was taking to the new arrival, things started to get tense. David was actually getting quite upset about the whole situation. The realisation was also dawning that really, our flat is too small to have two house-cats in it. Maybe when we've moved to somewhere bigger, but then ideally we'll have access to a garden and the whole situation will be different anyway.
But then there was the dilemma - Do we take him back? Do we try to find another family to take him? And how quickly could we do the latter?
By Sunday morning things were a little less tense between big cat and little cat, but the space issues remained, and neither of us was much enjoying our long weekend. Fortunately, help was on the horizon in the form of Chris and Brian, who have clearly given up on ever retrieving Dillon from Liz's care, and were thinking about a new cat anyway. One Sunday afternoon visit and a swift falling-in-love later, kitten, food, toys and all related paraphenalia were heading off into the sunset.
He (he's called Chip, by the way), is reportedly settling in well.
And we're firmly committed to stopping this thing that we do of jumping into things before we've really thought through and planned the consequences.
Ten From Ten – An “Am I In A Film?” Moment
Originally posted on the 18th April 2008 - As I note in the post I think my life for several years while I was traveling so much was a bit unreal. This was probably the most extreme example. Again, the debate is interesting, so I'm linking rather than repeating.
Ten From Ten – Sometimes The World Makes No Sense
Originally posted on the 25th August 2003 - this one's a bit of a downer I'm afraid, but I really wanted to include it. I think the content tells the whole story so I'm going to say no more.
Not long after I first moved into this neighbourhood, back before I bought the flat and was living with Chris round the corner, we came upon the opening day of a restaurant in the area. The couple who ran the place, Ray and Rebecca, were wonderful, he was the chef, she looked after the front of house. They had set up there with a specific aim to bring something new to the community, and they certainly did - I like to think it was heart. They had a very clear vision of what they wanted for the place. Somewhere people could go to for an evening, where they didn’t turn tables, and if you wanted to linger over coffee for three times as long as you had over the meal, that was okay. A place where Ray and Rebecca were likely to give you a round of drinks on the house and come and join you for a chat at the end of the evening. The food, which Ray sourced all the ingedients for from suppliers he knew and trusted, was always brilliant, and the wine list as distinctive and impressive as everything else.
Ray and Rebecca had their ups and downs, and eventually there was just Ray, his sons, and their wonderful waiting staff, led by José, from Portugal, who everyone fancied
I haven’t been in for a while - pressures of work and time and such kept me occupied, though I kept thinking I’d wander along with a book one evening and just enjoy the food and the atmosphere as I’ve done in the past. There was something about the place that created a sense of community and welcome. It was the kind of place that every neighbourhood should have, but few do, and it was, in a very specific way, an extension of its owner’s personality.
I went past last night for the first time in a while and discovered the place closed up and messages and cards of sympathy arranged outside, with flowers and candles. Ray, it seemed, had died.
And now I’ve found out what happened.
Ray was murdered by someone who he’d refused to serve more wine to one night, who’d come back later with a knife and stabbed him to death.
There are simply no words to describe how I feel just at the moment. Though my toast this evening won’t only be to the concept of ‘home’ any more.
Ten From Ten – Though I Will Say…
Originally posted 9th April 2003. Just a slightly random post that again, was mostly noteworthy for its discussion. It seems I used to be quite provocative. Though I Will Say...
Looking Forward As Well As Back
So this place isn't all about the nostalgia this week, I thought I'd mention that I'm going to give the place a tenth birthday spring clean, throw a new theme at it, move it to a new server, and generally refresh it ahead of all the new blogging I am going to do (honest guv).
If there's one thing that the Ten From Ten exercise has done for me it's show me that I'm capable of doing this on a regular basis, and being halfway interesting when I put my mind to it. Back in the day I maintained an entire separate section for reviews. And even though calling it The Weekly was optimistic, an entire extra site for bigger, more research-heavy posts that lasted a while. The lack of drive here since I got back from the US is a bit pathetic, when you think about all that.
Ten From Ten – Joss Whedon’s New Job
Originally posted 2nd May 2003 - but oh how it ran and ran. (Yes old-timers, I went there...) I'm going to link to this one rather than reproduce it, because the magic of this one is all in the comments. It's a TV post, and just a random thought I had that I thought I'd share. One of my regular commenters added an observation, and then I forgot about it, pretty much.
For some reason, four months later, in September 2003, someone rediscovered it, and added a comment. And then the world went mad. I know it will take a stupid amount of time out of your day to review it, but if you have the time please do at least give it a skim - the entertainment level is very high. Particularly when some of the regulars wade in...
The first postscript to this is that I pointed it out to someone who knows JW and he said he was going to send him the link. I have no idea if that ever happened, but I'd like to think if it did, he was amused.
The second postscript to this one is that maybe three years ago I had an email out of the blue from someone who'd commented and was now applying for jobs, and would like this youthful indiscretion deleted. I wonder how many more of this group find this thread in their self-Googling.
So without wanting to hype it any further: Joss Whedon's New Job
Ten From Ten – I Wish Shopping There Was Forbidden
Originally posted on 7th October 2006, after a particularly annoying shopping expedition. This post probably wouldn't be making its second appearance except that it suddenly became topical again while I was reviewing material for inclusion in the Ten From Ten. A visit to the shop in question for the first time in months led to the discovery that nothing's changed, and the level of 'service' remains as low as ever.
I hate Forbidden Planet. Not the film, obviously, but the ’sci-fi and fantasy superstore’ or however they’re styling themselves these days. Shopping there is a thoroughly unpleasant experience, made more so by the recognition that as they’ve cornered quite a large part of their selected market, if you need to be able to walk into a shop and have a reasonable chance of leaving with what you wanted, FP is your best bet. (And I should stress that it’s the London shop I’m talking about here. Apart from New York I’ve never been to another branch, and they could all be fantasy shopper heaven for all I know.)
Today, for reasons that are exactly of the ‘need X in a hurry’ variety, I went in, and while I was waiting for a staff member to appear and lower himself to help me give them my money, I found myself next to a man and his son who were complaining. They seemed to want to exchange something, but the main complaint was that the father, who made the repeated point that he’d been going to FP since 1990, felt that the staff had been rude and aggressive.
To which I can only ask, in all seriousness - how can you have been going there since 1990 and only now realised that the staff at Forbidden Planet are rude and aggressive?
I’ve always assumed it’s part of the job description.