Category: Other

I ran three miles this morning. It’s the first time I’ve done that in a month and I feel really good for it, although I’m aching slightly already which will have to get worse before it gets better.

I’ve really come to enjoy running and I’m glad I don’t have to pack it in completely. I was worried that I’d developed shin splints due to my Dad’s horror stories and a brief spell of having shooting pains up my shins whenever I ran three miles. I realise now it was probably down to a combination of the wrong footwear and trying to run too hard when I should be going for distance. I backed off a bit and was just doing the odd mile here and there but it was really nice to do my usual trek this morning, makes me feel setup for the day, regardless of what I have to spend my weekdays doing at the moment.

Sorry, that wasn’t particularly exciting was it.

If you’re going to offer up someone advice, make sure it’s beneficial.
It’s something that has been bothering me since I brief exchange I had with someone at work.
She asked how my novel was going and I said that I had sent it off to ten agents, that I’d had rejection letters from three but I’d see how it went with the rest.
The next thing she said was this;
“Well, the odds of getting it published are like winning the lottery”

I don’t need to know that. I don’t want to know that.
I’m just trying to get something done. I’m trying to achieve something, I’m not interested in odds, or statistics or numbers, I deal in words, and my words are important to me, so watch yours.
All you have to say is ‘good luck with that’ and walk away, that’s all the justification I need.
I’m aware it’s a hard vocation I’ve dived into, I’m trying my best, just have a little courtesy and a little patience around the area, it’s a sensitive issue, in case you couldn’t tell.

‘I hope that’s okay’ she said leaning back on the backless stool but somehow keeping her balance.
‘it’s a lot to process’ he replied, and for once he was telling the full and frank truth. It hadn’t been the longest six months that they had been together and here she was with this news. He worried that he was about to bolt out of the bar and be gone forever but something kept him magnetised, as though him and the stool were magnetised poles.
He had to ask the question:
‘Have you thought about..?’
She cut him off before he had to force himself to explain.
‘Oh I could never…’
‘Good’.

Last night I wrote over two thousand words, watched three episodes of Wilfred and prepared dinner for tonight.

The writing was the third short story for my collection (of ten) and I’m finding it a lot easier this time around, maybe because it’s a lot easier to intensely focus on five to ten thousand words than it is on a hundred thousand. The stories are all pretty steeped in fact, and I’m hoping they’re true to everyone involved. That’s what I want, for people to be interested.

I watched the whole of the first series of Wilfred and didn’t even know a second series had started (because I don’t have a teevee/am such a woowoofreespirit) so it was only when Jocasta mentioned it that I knew I had to re-engage. For anyone who hasn’t seen it Wilfred is a dark comedy series staring Elijah Wood and Jason Gann, I don’t want to say too much about it because discovering it on suggestion is much better than having the whole thing unraveled for you.

Tonight I’m cooking dinner for my little tinkle’ead girlfriend so I tried to prep as much as possible so she doesn’t spend hours waiting for food, because she is liable to go Incredible Hulk on my soft furnishings if she’s kept from food.

Anyway, back to my smut.

Once a week since the age of ten I’ve promised myself I’m turning over a new leaf, as though suddenly that will make everything better and I’ll stop being a certain way for whatever reason.

This week I have decided to try and stop being untrue to myself. It’s quite a big one but I spend far too long inking my height against that of other people and it’s not done me any favours. I think what I really need is to get away for a couple of days and think, but that isn’t really something that’s possible to me or anyone else is it? Whenever I read Lonesome Traveller I think about how I would deal with Kerouac’s existence in the Californian mountainside, three months of pure solitude but there I go again comparing.

I don’t really know what I’m getting at, all I know is that something isn’t sitting right and I need to sort it out.

…where’s my head at. I’ve just woken up and experienced one of those truly panicking moments where I wasn’t entirely sure who I was, it felt really strange.
I’ve got over it and made a cup of tea now so I am fairly sure it’s going to be okay.
Last night I was out on the tiles for the second night in a row, as you may have noticed I rarely go near any tiles, let alone go out on them two nights running, oh no, this metaphor is dead…

I think the important thing to note is that it is still an important thing to do. While I don’t appreciate getting ‘spandangled’ (as Joe would put it) every night anymore it is sometimes nice to drink too many Jagerbombs and try to win the Gold for Paralympics dancing. That’s what I can remember of last night. I knocked up a couple of jugs of mojitos for the twin’s birthday and then we headed out. It all got a bit strange from there. I got a tweet from my friend Wes, and then I descended into madness. Brilliant.

I can’t really remember a lot else, all I know is that it wasn’t even eleven and I was yawning and then the next thing I knew Wes, Charlie and I were dancing and it was coming up on 3am. I’d class that as having a good time. Now I need to clear my head with a shower and do a wee bit of writing before going out for lunch.

I would just like to take a moment to thank everyone who heads over to my blog. It amazes me that each day I’m able to write something and it amazes me even more so that there are people who take to my blog to read it. In the month of August I had over a thousand views.

I appreciate the support of you all and hope it can continue forever.

Peace & love.

Paul

X

It feels weird going back to work as a peasant when yesterday I ate like a king. For those who haven’t seen our constant reminders of that via various outputs Kate and I went for afternoon tea at The Ritz. It was amazing.

I appreciate that there is a level of decadence to it but the fact is that there were people there who obviously took the whole experience for granted, as though they were just sat down the local ‘caff’. It was a real treat for us, and one that I won’t forget any time soon.

The building and the decor are worth the visit alone, the whole place is quite incredible to behold, and I constantly felt at threat of being discovered and turfed out like Chaplin’s Tramp. The staff were so courteous and helpful though so this notion was entirely of my own making.

We were seated and offered tea from a menu. A fucking tea menu. I didn’t know it came any way than in a bag (that is mostly a joke). Kate had the Ritz special blend and I had the Darjeeling (yes, because of it’s association with Wes). We were brought a cake stand with some of the best sandwiches and cakes I’ve ever seen on it.

We were then offered more cake from a selection on a tea tray. I think Kate was sure she had died and gone to heaven. Every now and then as we were talking the waiter would come round and check if we were okay and check if we needed more tea, but it didn’t feel intrusive or annoying, it seemed like a genuine regard for customers.

It was really nice to be treated that well, to be waited upon, but I don’t think I could ever get use to it, I’m not the waited upon type. It was like stepping back in time which we are obviously both a fan of and I would recommend it to anyone who wanted to do something special for a celebration.

After tea we headed past Buckingham Palace and over to the National Gallery, and National Portrait Gallery. We were the best dressed people there, no question.

Here we are huddled under my jacket from the rain:

So today is quite exciting. I’m going for afternoon tea at The Ritz. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say. I bought Kate a voucher for tea for two for her birthday back in May and this was the soonest we could get a table, obviously the bourgeoisie love a scone. We’ve got to try and be on our best behaviour. Kate and I are prone to pulling faces and putting on silly voices at the dinner table and have been trying to get that out of our systems before today, although it would be quite punk to get booted out of The Ritz.

I’ve just looked outside and it’s burning sunshine, how am I supposed to wear a suit in this? I only wear suits for funerals and job interviews, this will be something different.

Through a fault entirely of my own the phonecall I was waiting in all day yesterday actually came into my inbox at 12:11 so I spent time being pensive and anxious when I don’t need to. Lesson learnt. It wasn’t good news, their loss.

Right, I need to shave and pretend I’m a nice person, catch you later.