Author: Paul

I’ve finished being moody. I promise. Yesterday was actually very good. I am not entirely sure what I was so pent up about but it has subsided. It was really nice to be around a dining table with the people I love and after I got to go and play with my friends. For the past decade I have had the same group of friends and there are things that happen in that circle that just wouldn’t make sense elsewhere. We drift off and we get back and it’s the same. Long may it continue.
This year we decided to make presents as everyone is reasonably poor. I baked everyone Oreo stuffed cookies and in return I got a t-shirt with my face on it, a drawing of the five of us and a rather questionable DVD featuring all of us in compromising and photoshopped poses.
Ross and Luke are off travelling on Tuesday and I’m going to miss them. It’s strange because we don’t see each other every day but the fact that I won’t be able to see them is what bothers me. I’m also wild with jealousy.

In positive vibe news though, the days get longer from here on in.

What an awful business. It’s such dead space between Christmas and new year. I hate new year as well actually.

I’m sat in my brother’s car waiting to head out for another lunch. I hate waiting on people. I’m in a terrible mood in case you couldn’t tell. I would like to spend today in bed watching films but I am not honoured with such an option.

I probably sound really ungrateful but that’s what my blog is all about.

I’m up too early.
The house is silent.
I’ve never been able to lay in, especially on Christmas morning. I know I didn’t ask for much and I know whatever I get will far exceed my expectations but I just feel so lucky to be able to spend today with my family. That’s enough for me. It’s a hard thing to orchestrate and it’s the one day a year when good times are guaranteed.
I hope you all have a fantastic day, eat too much and appreciate everything and everyone that you have.
Peace&love.

Oh man, I was so spoilt yesterday.
Kate got me loads of beatnik literature and tickets to a Bowie exhibition and she adopted me a puffin. It’s amazing how one person can be so in tune to the things I harp on about all the time. I feel very lucky and very happy.
It’s my last day of work before Christmas and fittingly it’s the last day before Christmas. I’m hoping to get out early and go on some adventures.

Due to family commitments Kate and I will not be seeing each other on actual genuine Christmas Day. To deal with this we have moved our Christmas Day back two days, which means it is today and explains why I’m up so early on a Sunday. I’m not allowed to go round until 12 and already I’m struggling. I need to find ways to distract myself.
I think I’m more excited about this than I am about Christmas Day itself. I am very pleased with what I have bought for her and hope she will be pleasantly surprised by it all.
I’ve said before that I don’t really need anything else, I’ve reached a point in my life where physical possessions have lost a lot of appeal. That said I always have time for new books, music and film. I can’t wait to go and see her. I feel ever so full of cheer.

I’ve finished shopping.
I’ve finished wrapping.
I’ve baked some cookies.
I’m watching Cosmopolis.
I never want to have to leave the house again.

The fact of the matter is today was the only day I had to leave the house to get a present. I got everything else online. I tell you what, don’t go out, it’s awful. People are going mad, biting one another, gouging papercuts into their own genitals with receipts. Just stay indoors. It’s nice.

Merry Christmas.

…and I feel fine.
I can’t stop thinking about the number of end of the worlds I have survived now. I’m becoming quite adept. I think the secret lies in the wise words of Public Enemy – “don’t believe the hype”. I think even if the great Professor Brian Cox told me the world was ending I wouldn’t believe it, I’m just a classic cynic.

I can remember when Y2K was going to be the end of us all. I would have been 13 by my count. Even then I didn’t buy into it. A computer isn’t going to click over to 1900 and think it hasn’t been invented yet. Time is an invention of man. The odds are that the end of the world will completely catch us by surprise. That’s what I would want. It would never meet the build up around these fad end of the world prophecies, like how exciting the trailer for The Phantom Menace looked.
Boom!

Does anyone remember swine flu or bird flu or the current one, the Nuke Flu or whatever it is called. We have survived the africanised bees, zom-bees, the Bush administration and mad cow disease. Its becoming a bit of a tired cliché even to mention it. I’m starting to wonder if anything can get rid of us. I hope so.

Last night I was fortunate enough to be invited along to the Screen Geek team’s Christmas drinks. I’ve mentioned the site before. I have started doing a wee bit of review/freelance work for them. Check it out here.
It was the first time I had met them all, except Sam, the editor, who boldly stated that we were “in the trenches together”.

What I will take away from last night is the subject I want to talk about, the subject of passion and pride in one’s work. I feel very lucky and privileged that I get to write about films, that I get asked to go and review new films, that I get sandwiches and wine and private screening rooms. It is worlds away from the Empire in Basildon.
It seemed to me that everyone in the room last night felt that way. They all love film. All you had to do was shut up for five minutes and take it all in to realise how emotional and motivated and animated they become on the topic.
There’s always a fear that if you keep doing something for long enough then you lose sight of why you started out on the journey in the first place, and that you end up going through the motions. Of course I’m aware that it is very hard to get paid writing work doing what we do and forgive me if I am wrong but there appears to be a good deal of jumping ship and mutiny when the situation calls. Think The Rum Diary, the book, not the film.

I write because I deep down adore writing. I can’t get enough of it. There is so much to say. There are so many stories tangled up and I get frustrated that it takes so long to pull one free and see the end of it.
It’s the same with playing guitar. I know that the likelihood is I won’t ever become a credible musician but there comes a point where you carry on playing beyond the idea of wanting to be Jimmy Page or Bob Dylan. It is just something I love to do.
I feel the same way about relationships. Kate and I made an agreement a long time ago that if we ever stopped having fun and enjoying one another’s company then we would have the good sense to walk away from the whole thing. It keeps me on my toes. I’m also fortunate in that every time I am in the build up of minutes before I see her I still get that irregularity to my heartbeat.

I was told last night to hold onto the reason that I love film and the reason that I started reviewing. I feel I should comment to myself now that there is something good to be taken from practically any film. It is an art form. It is to be respected and if you ever forget that I’ll be coming for you.

This morning I got up and did some exercise and I definitely feel better for it than if I had just indulged in twenty minutes extra in bed.
I am of the belief that the best time to exercise is when you first wake up, before your body can start piling on the troubles that are going to bundle you throughout the day. Shock it with exercise. It’s like being thrown in an ice bath. It doesn’t even have to be particularly strenuous. I believe I stole the eighteen minute exercise thing from here.
It’s an excellent way of at least doing something if you have a busy day. I only did some basic weight exercises and some yoga stretches but I’ll do a variation on that next time to avoid just becoming a creature of habit as I am in most other aspects of my life.
For example I left the house at seven this morning, I doubt I’ll be home before nine but I know I’ve taken that little step first thing this morning that will keep my mind and body alert. That’s a cornerstone.

I have a habit of naming things.
My iPhone is called Lucille.
My car is called Pancetta.
My guitars are Dot, Charlene and Tigerlily.
I realised last night that I don’t have a name for my laptop. I realised this when I wanted to cry out its name in vain. I was reminded of that clip of Hercules where he shouts the stage direction. Actually, I’ll link that. It’s too good.

The problems started when I decided to have a nice bath and watch Elementary. I chose to do these two things together, precariously balancing the laptop on the lid of the toilet. It makes me feel like I’m in an episode of Cribs.

Since that bath and the hefty amount of steam I have since figured got lodged up in old laptop, it won’t turn on.
I’m worried.
I have written two novels on that thing, recorded fifty(ish) songs and haven’t ever deleted the Internet history. Now I have to call up Apple Support and hope to all holy fucking gods available at this busy time of year that there is a simple solution and laptop will be back in my loving arms before you can say extended warranty.

It did mean however that I got dressed in record time this morning because I wasn’t checking emails or updating Twitter, Tumblr or Facebook but I can quickly see this getting very The Shiningif the matter continues.