5478/18398
Fifteen years. 5478 days. Every fucking day. Whoop-ee-fucking-doo.
If every loser wins, then where’s my fucking medal?
Happy birthday warming up. As long as I keep doing this then I can guarantee that this is the most successful and long-term relationship of my life. Me and my computer. And not even the same computer. If only I’d kept all the computers I’ve written this on - what an art installation that would be.
In the last two months I have probably come closest to ending this. Not because of the desire to stop (though that has always been a constant presence) but just because life has been so busy and days have sometimes passed and the catching up has been hard. And in some cases I’ve nearly not been able to recall anything to write about. The combination of life being impossibly busy along with every day being almost identical is the one that is most likely to destroy this unbroken run. But I am pleased that it is real life, rather than work that has nearly proven to be my enemy. And I have to say that within this Groundhog Day of caring for two kids, a dog and gathering firewood there have been some really good blogs. There have been some shit ones too, but it was ever thus.
Maybe the elastic will snap and I will be free of this. There’s no reason why I have to do it every day. Except that I know the minute that I take a day off then that will be it. And I am not sure I’d really want it to be it. Got to see it through to death or decrepitude now, right? However appalling it may become. Just on the off chance that something good flies out of the morass of crap. Something good that I can spin into something bigger. Making gold out of crap. Or at least making bronze.
It feels like forever since I lived in Balham and as I said the other day the pre-Catie Warming Up period felt like it lasted at least a decade, so I can’t say this 15 years of typing has gone fast. In some senses, Warming Up feels like it has actually gone a lot slower than my actual life. It’s not far away from being a third of my life. It’s 0.2977497554082 of my actual life. But now I have to continue until it’s actually a third. And so on. Until it’s 100% of my life.
We had a family day, going to Stevenage for lunch and a movie. We saw Paddington 2 and it was a fucking delight. Put that on your poster. I loved the little homage to the TV Paddington and the smart writing and direction and the fantastic performances across the board. Simon Farnaby co-wrote and appeared in it and I think he is one of the funniest men in the country. He steals the show in Detectorists too. Every detail of this film was fine-tuned and that’s thanks to co-writer and director Paul King. It managed to be a homage to cinema and combine real London with the fairy tale version of London and make you forget that the star was a fucking bear. I laughed a lot. I nearly cried. I then cried. I wanted to fall asleep, but couldn’t allow myself to. The first one was good, but the sequel was better. I took my kids, but you don’t need to take your kids. I am not advising you to kidnap other people’s children. You can go on your own.
Hey, thanks for reading this. It’s really for me, not you, but if you weren’t there keeping me honest then it would have floundered a long time ago. I have long stopped expecting there to be any fanfare about the anniversaries and more importantly have realised that there doesn’t deserve to be any fanfare. Not because it has no worth (it has no worth, but look up at the clear night sky on a cold night and tell me that anything has worth - even the dazzling sky), but because fanfare is unimportant and counter-productive. In career terms I have what I have because of lack of fanfare. Fanfare wrecks everything. Sorry if you’re someone who works in producing fanfares. But it’s probably pertinent to realise that fanfares never get fanfares. Even the best fanfares are never followed by a fanfare. Because if a fanfare got a fanfare then it would detract from what it was a fanfare for and thus be the worst ever fanfare and not deserve a fanfare. And yet you have to work really hard and try and make it the best fanfare ever, otherwise what kind of a fanfare would it be? Ah the fanfare dichotomy.
And that fanfare paragraph, that just appeared out of nowhere and will soon disappear back into nowhere is sort of why this blog is worthwhile.
Let’s see if I carry it on or if life intervenes and breaks the fragile elastic that keeps it swinging.
The other day I posited 2027 as a ridiculously futuristic date for this still to be going by. But in 2002 if I’d known it would still be around in 2017 I’d have probably cried for a very long time. 2032. If I am still going on 25th November 2032, then we can feel properly sad.
Cheers guys. On we go.
