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Modesty's demands
Dec. 17th, 2005
03:23 pm - Christmas mad behaviour
Read this NOW: http://www.livejournal.com/users/mi
I have done one good thing already because of that. Now here are my ten wishes:
1. Manchester United's steady decline into mediocrity continues.
2. The people in my life have better fortune. (Sadly I'm not being totally selfless here; I just want less angst to deal with.)
3. Christopher stops fannying about deleting his journal.
4. The Pentagon employs silencer technology to create a silent keyboard. Steven buys one.
5. Danny Wallace stops mentioning his horrendous ex-girlfriend in all future books.
6. Nettle tea arrives at my door right at that moment when you find you've got one bag left and have to start thinking about how and when you're going to get to a Holland & Barrett's (which are all miles from me) just to buy one sodding box of teabags.
7. Time goes mad and the world ends in 1987. On the upside, this means both The Smiths and Cheers went out at the height of their brilliance (instead of sullying their aceness with Morrissey's solo career and Rebecca).
8. Shelley Long wants to kiss my face.
9. Somebody writes me a letter. (And posts it to me.)
10. I don't lose the powers of alcoholic immortality bestowed upon me by the Carr gene.
Hmmm, well, I haven't given anyone much chance of granting any of my wishes, there, but hey, I have given you one gift - LAUGHTER! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
excitedNov. 17th, 2005
09:36 pm - A Smiths tribute
Does anyone fancy coming to see The Other Smiths at Preston uni with me next Friday night? If not, I'll be forced into that cringeworthy situation of going to and drinking at a concert (I refuse to use "gig") alone. And not just any concert - a Smiths tribute concert. People will think I'm going to find like-minded souls. I'm not. I just want to hear The Headmaster Ritual live, preferably with someone else who likes the Smiths. Please help me.
curiousSep. 10th, 2005
02:38 pm - The Urinals
Today is the first day I've been at home on a Man. Utd. matchday.
If only I had an uzi.
irateSep. 5th, 2005
04:23 pm - Forgive me father, for I have memed
"Ask me for "top five" list of pretty much anything, and I will list you my top
five of that thing or things. Copy and paste this in your own journal and give
your own top fives."
embarrassed03:02 pm - Gay mannered
There's a man with a bosom stood opposite me at this very moment.
I'm still round and about like a homeless - I got a call this morning telling me not to go down to Kilburn building as I was doing an induction day at Salford, but nothing came of that so I came down here for lack of anything else to do. It followed the usual pattern which myself and Mark have fallen into already, of sitting talking about retro TV and videogames and being angered when forced to work. I think me coming to work down here has been a God-send for him because I've shown him just how much you can get away with so long as you get the job done - already, he's coming in wearing ripped jeans and he's taken the afternoon off to catch up with a mate. Last Friday's delivery trip to a building next to Picadilly turned into a crafty pint near Victoria in the sun... I said that I'd make more of an effort to make the best of my time at work, and it's paying off already. I just hope the geezer I'm working with at Salford is okay too.
There's a real, live, genuine demolition going on at the moment on Oxford Road! It's very exciting. I've been out three times to watch and it gets better every time - as I passed on my way down here this morning I just thought part of the building had collapsed (which was brilliant enough in itself), then a massive pneumatic drill appeared from nowhere and started hammering away at the concrete shell. This kind of destruction is somehow really invigorating to watch. As I was saying to John last week, I'd also pay to see a massive explosion at one of the stands at Old Trafford... just being stood by my window in the morning and seeing the sky light up and a huge ball of flame extend across the horizon...
I wrote something really good at home the other night but when I come on Livejournal I seem to blank out for fifteen minutes and come to with a page of gash in front of me. I'm only doing this out of boredom really. I'm in the middle of applying for a TV license for Lois, looking for a wireless keyboard and... hmmm, I'm off again. I wonder if I'll ever get round to writing my story down? I have romantic moments when I tell myself I'll get it done, but then I go home feeling tired and I enjoy drinking too much to stay sober long enough to get anything done. I don't know what the point would be, really, either. There are millions of people like me thinking exactly the same things and they're never going to put their thoughts into words so why should I? Maybe I'll just keep on sticking little observations on my site and hope in its own way that means something to someone.
peacefulAug. 31st, 2005
04:34 pm - Time flies
Fuckbeans. It's nearly time to go home again. All I'll say is it's lashing it down outside, I've been working with a decent guy called Mark all day today which has cheered me up quite a bit, and I'm cocking starving.
Word.
chipperAug. 30th, 2005
02:51 pm - Finally working in Manchester
I'm working at the University of Manchester for the next couple of weeks, and then over at Salford uni which I'm quite looking forward to. I got a nice leaving card from the people in Preston which made me realise I should make more of an effort with people this time around.
The house is still fridgeless.
The house is still internetless.
I'm bloody starving, and I've decided journals are gash. There's a lot of much better stuff waiting to be uploaded on my computer.
hungryAug. 24th, 2005
01:54 pm - A long drawn out goodbye always makes me sigh
Is Preston finally over? It fucking well isn't. But there is cause for optimism as after another quick visit tomorrow afternoon - I made a pointless journey over here today - I should finally be done.
Nowt much has been happening recently, which is worthy of mention as it signifies us getting used to life in Manchester already. Last weekend I had my head shaved, went on the Revidge run and spent a couple of days off work with Lois; this weekend I will be mostly inflicting further Deep Space 9 on myself and going to Amanda's 21st in Southport. There are a few things left to sort around the house, such as a fridge, but they'll have to wait until we've all got a little more money. Steven has a job now, which is a relief, so the ship's at least stable over here, if not chugging along. One of the ironies of living with ex-students is that they're theoretically capable of earning something decent but are usually ingrained in a debt-ridden, carefree lifestyle so you're more secure living with a dude on jobseekers than a graduate.
One day, I'll be back in black...
tiredAug. 19th, 2005
03:53 pm - Big, black fellas
Is Preston finally over? I fucking well hope so. All being well, this will be my last twenty minutes working here, though there's a niggling possibility they'll want me to come back in on Monday to do a final check that the replacements are doing okay.
I'm not really feeling any sadness or suspicions I'll miss the place. It's been three years here now, as a student and then staff, and it feels like it's run its course. Perhaps if I didn't have something new and shiny on the horizon to aim for I'd be clinging to it a little more, but with work around Manchester to be done there's nothing much holding me here. I walk the streets without looking where I'm going, and I think that's a sign you've done a town.
There are a few brief points about the house: the cellar smells; big, black fella Ryan does actually exist; we need to buy a TV license (actually, I'll do that online now... there we go, done); I've got the knack of locking the front door; we got the washing machine fitted the other night after a little water-based mishap; cricket fans have an irritating habit of leaving Old Trafford in dribs and drabs, meaning there's a continual flow of people in your way no matter the time of day; we still need a fridge; everyone seems to be suffering from the same virus which causes annoying lethargy, myself in particular (so so tired...); and the air around the place seems quiet and clear, light reflecting from places I'd never noticed before, sounds bouncing through the open windows never quite revealing exactly what they are.
I suppose being in a new house and town offers a lot of interest. It's not overwhelming me as it has done in the past, but it's certainly been the happy move I was hoping for and I can't ask for much more than that.
sleepyAug. 16th, 2005
03:32 pm - Different coloured bricks and skagheads
Things move on in Manchester...
I met the neighbours last night, a couple in their 50s with an 18 year-old daughter. You're immediately presuming that I'm moist in anticipation of meeting her; this couldn't be further from the truth, because we had the pleasure of hearing her Take That tapes out of the window on the first day. I don't think I'd have the energy for an affair even if I wanted to because I've been hit by a strange lethargy, probably caused by the exertion of the last few days. Something in the house is irritating my asthma too and I couldn't get back to sleep yesterday morning because of the whining noise coming from my chest. (As irksome as it was, there was something funny about lieing there with rhythmic whistling coming from my body.) I've been doing training for the past couple of days which is essentially me talking for three hours solid, something I never ever otherwise do, and it's been a real effort. Breathing is hard and my voice is raspy... not much fun.
The train journey to Preston was much nicer today because a) I went after 9.30am to get a (much) cheaper fare and b) I took the nice route via all the odd little Lancashire towns surrounded by green fields and trees (as opposed to the yellow variety so common down South). It's still costing me £10 a day to do this, but when there's something pleasant to catch the eye and spark a few nice thoughts across the forty-five minutes, it seems a little more worthwhile.
This morning's journey mostly involved thinking about what it is about Manchester that I like. At the moment I'm considering the architecture, and (as trivial as it sounds) I've been thinking a lot about bricks. When I think of all the places I've been to and have opinions of, bricks characterise each of them. I strongly dislike Scottish buildings, and I think it's mostly because of the dirty grey stone. The same applies to the terraced houses in Accrington, with their angular dirty sand bricks. Blackburn - I'm indifferent to; it's a mix and match across the town. But there are places I really like - the red bricks of the Midlands are wonderful, the tightly knit walls in towns like Grantham, and the deeper reds of Manchester also work for me. It sounds like such a silly little thing but I'm very sensitive to my surroundings (choosing a nice house this year meant a lot to me after a year in that shithole in Preston) and when you're wandering around seeing these colours all day, it becomes quite important.
Architecture and morality... two different but equally hot potatoes.
(Or however it goes... it's been too long since I watched any Partridge.)
Last night involved getting home quite late due to bumping into my aunt in the centre, cooking and then dismantling my Corby trouser press. Pfft, I wish. It was, less interestingly, my fitted wardrobe which is now partly without doors. I can't decide if the whole idea works; I meant it to look like a walk-in wardrobe but it does look a bit like the builders packed in and buggered off half way through the job. Later on, just before everyone crashed out, a skaghead chick came to the door asking for Ryan, apparently a "big black fella" who used to live here. Either he did use to live at the house, or it was a pretext for checking a newly occupied house out; either way, she fucked off and I'll be keeping an eye out for her over the next few weeks.
I will be back in Blackburn briefly on Saturday afternoon to sort a few things out and get a haircut, so if anyone fancies a crafty pint, give me a shout. This and the following weeks will be the longest I haven't seen Lois for quite a while, with the distance between us and the Leeds festival and so on; it's a bit strange at the moment because I've had so much on my mind and no free time at all that not seeing her as often as usual hasn't really had chance to get to me. But soon enough I'll find myself sitting down with everything out of the way, and it'll be right back like it was last year when I had no-one there to see, and I'll think: Jeez, what do I do now? Until then, I'm back on my old diet of bad TV with my mates - roll on Deep Space 9!
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