This Is Where I Am

Hi all.

With this blog, I reach a target that I set myself back in January – to post a different number of blogs in each month. So even if the rest of the year was up and down like a pensioners pants when dysentery strikes, I can feel like I’ve achieved something.

Christmas was wonderful.
A joyous end to an eventful year.
I’ll fill you in when the time seems right, but to give you some brief highlights of a momentous ten days:
Sophie has started applying for jobs at the hospital in Norwich. She and her partner Tamara – who is lovely, by the way – are hoping to move back here sometime in the next few months.
I no longer work for a provider of domestic decorating equipment, but Tom gave me a big bonus as a leaving present and a promise of ‘the best reference ever written in Britain.’
Nathan fell over in the ice and broke his finger. Hannah impressed him so much with her nursing that he asked her to marry him. We’re still trying to work out whether it was a genuine proposal, or just the shock or morphine talking. Either way, she's still thinking about it.
On Christmas Eve, we all piled out for a party. After a lecture from both my sisters, I called Philippa and asked her to join us. She did… she looked stunning… we talked about our feelings… and she ended up staying the night.

Happy New Year

RC 31-12-10

Busy, but better

What a day. Why the Hell does everyone want to get wallpaper delivered in the week before Christmas? Not exactly a brilliant present for someone, is it? Tom says everyone is trying to get things cheaply before VAT goes up in January. He may be right. And they may be right... Maybe I should go mad and buy a TV, computer and games console before the prices increase.

Sophie arrives tomorrow, so I may not blog for a while due to exciting family commitments. In case I don’t - have a fantastically Happy Christmas; thank you for reading; and I’ll speak to you on the other side of the Yuletide.

Season’s Greetings!

RC 22-12-10

Counting down

It’s getting near the end of the year, so we’ll be inundated with ‘Best Of’s and ‘Worst Of’s and “Ten best-selling Simon Cowell shitstains of the year” and so on.. So I’m getting in early with a List Of My Own:

5 Best Lines I’ve Overheard This Year:

“Everyone’s body works differently, but if your piss is coming out like golden syrup, it’s time to go to the doctor”
“I mean - Nelson Mandela - what‘s he ever done for black people?”
“If God had meant me to cut the grass, he would have made my penis a Flymo”
“The next person who asks me if I’m putting on weight is going to spend the rest of their life trying to pull my left foot out of their arsehole”
“Cheryl Cole is not a good role model for young girls in this country - she’s just a whining, skanky slut”

RC 21-12-10

Eat, drink, be merry

I had Sunday lunch with Ted and Beryl. She wanted to try out her new gravy idea before Christmas so Ted and I got to be guinea pigs. It was ok. Beryl's recipes nowadays seem to be the same as her old ones, but with huge amounts of brandy added. With mince pies, that's great, but with gravy it didn't really work. "That's awful," she said when she tried it herself, "Thank God I've still got a week to work at it." I have a feeling Ted will be eating a lot of roast dinners this week.
For dessert, we were offered a massive Christmas pudding, topped with golden syrup. God, it was sweet. Beryl said "It's my dear old mum's recipe, but with a few little extras of my own." It's a wild guess, but I think those 'extras' might be brandy, rum and drambuie.

RC 19-12-10

an update..

Minus ten degrees celsius in our garden this morning. Did I fall asleep in Norfolk and wake up in Lapland? At least it's seasonal I suppose, and I haven't got to drive anywhere today so what do I care?
Sophie is travelling down by train, which is the least likely mode of transport to be affected by bad weather, so I'm quite relieved. She and her partner are leaving Wednesday, visiting her partner's parents on the way down and staying overnight, then getting the train into Norwich about 4pm on Thursday 23rd. Yay! It's going to be great to see them. I'm still 'negotiating' with Hannah to try and convince her to spend Christmas Day with us, instead of with Nathan's lot. We shall see.

Everyone at work got a Christmas card from Tom yesterday. The picture on the front is a re-creation of the nativity scene, with Tom and his wife as Joseph and Mary, and poor little baby Summer dressed up as the infant Jesus. It is truly horrible.

Philippa and I have been getting on great. She's got loads to do in the office and I've been helping her out where I can. She's been very grateful, and very sweet. It's strange to think I'll only be working there for another week, and then I won't be seeing her anymore.
Did I say 'strange'? I think I meant 'awful'

RC 18-12-10

The Blue Room

I've gone all festive.
I've decorated my bedroom with some SupaBright LED outdoor-use fairy lights.
They're all blue, there are 120 of them, and I have them all around the ceiling in my bedroom.

I feel like I'm sleeping on the set of TRON.

RC 16-12-10

Invitation

I had tea with Ted and Beryl tonight. I’m stuffed. Beryl is finalising her mince pie recipe for this year so we had to be guinea pigs and try 12 different types that she’d prepared. My personal favourite was the one laced with so much drambuie it burnt your throat out, but in the end we all agreed she should go with the shortcrust, deep-filled option with icing sugar and chocolate flakes on top. Lovely, and she’ll bake about 10,000 of them in time for Christmas, so there’ll be plenty more for me to gorge on.
Ted said “You can say no if you want to, but obviously we’ll be having a big family do here on Christmas Day, and obviously you and Hannah are invited.”
I said it would be lovely, but explained that Sophie would be here for Xmas, and that she might have her partner with her, and that Nathan might be spending the day with us as well, so it seemed a bit unfair to accept.
They smiled at each other and Beryl said “Oh, I’m sure we can squeeze you all in somewhere.”
Ho, ho and ho.

RC 9-12-10

Sh*theads

I watched a TV programme today I’d never seen before. It’s called ‘Eggheads.’ It’s a quiz show on BBC2. A team of quiz enthusiasts from the general public go up against a ‘SuperTeam’ of intellectual people who have won other TV quiz shows before. These pretentious, egotistical, nerdy bumtwits - for whom one on-screen victory in the past clearly wasn’t satisfying enough - all sit together in one smug group behind a table, glowing in their own trivia-spouting importance.

I’ve never wanted to see a hand grenade used more in my life.

RC 8-12-10

Single

I’m on my own, on a Friday night, with a soggy pepperoni pizza, a can of ginger beer, and a DVD of Lee Mack Live that I’m not laughing at in the slightest.

I love being me.

RC 3-12-10

Opening doors

It's Christmas month!!
Happy Advent!!
etcetera, etcetera!!

Work was busy today. Lots of people seem to want to get re-decorating done in time for Christmas, so we had loads of orders to send out. I like being busy though. It makes the day go quicker as I just get on with one task after another, and I can't dwell on the fact that I'm 'doing a job' instead of 'building a career.' Tom asked me today if I'd consider doing six days a week again, starting next Monday, to help in the build up to Christmas. I said yes, then told Philippa and she said "Yay! We'll get to see more of each other again!" and then the atmosphere went very weird again. Luckily I spent most of the afternoon in the warehouse, so I didn't have to think about it too much. But I did think about her.. Bloody women.

I'm going to look at a car tomorrow evening. It's a 4-year-old Mini One, and it's far too much money, but I'd like to take it for a test drive before I tell the owner I'm too poor to afford it.
It's a bit of a pain to think I'll be unemployed again in a month's time. I'm trying to stay positive and make big plans for the New Year, but it's still a bit unsettling. Sophie (via e-mail) has suggested I look at the job market in Edinburgh and consider living up there with her for a while. I told her 'If I'm going to be on The Dole, I'd rather not do it somewhere cold and full of Scotsmen.'

RC 1-12-10

Life Goes On..

I bought us a new Christmas tree today. I’ve been a bit of a selfish pig in the last few weeks, putting my own carnal happiness before my feelings for my sister, so I’m going to try and make it up to Hannah from now on, starting by buying us a tree. I’m so male. I treat women badly, and then apologise through the medium of gifts.
It’s a nice tree, and I have new shiny decorations to go with it, but my fear is that Nathan’s family and beliefs may have affected her and she’ll rip it up and throw it out before accusing me of being a materialistic heathen bastard or The Antichrist or something. We really do need to have a chat about what we’ll be doing over Christmas. The last two years have been excellent at home, but it may be different now she’s dating someone so pious and righteous that he’s almost John The Baptist. Maybe I’ll try and broach the subject tonight, after she’s smashed me over the head with a bauble.

Elsewhere, I’ve started looking at cars again. Emily may be gone, but the new passion for life she inspired in me doesn’t have to leave with her, so I’m seizing the bull by the whatsits and pressing forward with plans for the future. I’ll start by buying a car, then invest in a book about grammar so I can stop mixing metaphors and massacring sentence structure while blogging.

RC 30-11-10

same theme.. further reflection..

Been thinking a lot about Emily today. It’s so strange to have ended a relationship without the usual hurt and recriminations and tears and hatred. Finishing it when we did just felt so…….. right.
I wish her well, but it wouldn’t bother me if I never saw her again, and that feels weird, considering we’ve hardly been apart for two months.

The whole thing may have been a bit lusty and urgent and lacking any depth, but in many ways it was the most grown-up relationship I’ve ever had.

RC 29-11-10

Alone again, naturally..

Well that particular chapter of life is over.
Emily and I have gone our separate ways.
We’ve struggled through the last few days, but today we met for lunch and decided enough was enough. The fire has gone out, the flame has dwindled and died, so we have poured cold water on the last of the ashes and put the whole thing to bed.
What the HELL did I mean by that last sentence?

What a ride it was, and I don’t mean that in the way you think. In many ways this has been the most eventful few weeks of my life. It was certainly among the most enjoyable. Life-changingly so, almost. I think we found each other at the right time for both of us. We had an alarmingly overpowering physical attraction, which we exhausted to the limit, and then discovered there was little else to keep us together. So now we are moving on before our differences cause us to dislike each other.

At least now I might start writing about something else…

RC 28-11-10

Wild night

Whoever it was that said make-up sex is the best sex certainly knew their onions. Emily came over last night, and we ‘made up’ in just about every room of the house.
We’ve had some pretty amazing nights before, but even by our standards the last twelve hours have been beyond my wildest, wettest dreams.
Shame it’s a work day, because I really need to catch up on some sleep..

RC 24-11-10

Over and out?

I think The Emily Adventure may be drawing to a close. We’ve only seen each other once since ‘the phone incident.’ That was on Friday night, and we just sat on the sofa in an atmosphere, pretending everything was ok. Neither of us wanted to discuss it, neither of us wanted to apologise, so we just sat there drinking wine and watched a Kate Hudson film. Which was awful. But isn’t that true about all Kate Hudson films?
It’s been a long and childish few days since then. I keep checking the phone and my e-mails in case she’s tried to contact me, while I’ve been stubbornly refusing to take the first step myself. The strange thing is though, I haven’t really missed her at all, apart from when I’ve been in bed. And I think that tells you all you need to know about our relationship.

To end with, a little haiku for you:

I am feeling down
But the weather doesn’t care
It just keeps raining

RC 23-11-10

Shout (let it all out)

Emily and I had a massive argument today. I’m not even sure what it was about, but it rapidly descended into a contest to see who could be most insulting, and who could shout the loudest. I wouldn’t have minded, but we did it on the phone, and while she was on her own in the office at work, I was in the middle of a shop in Fakenham.

RC 17-11-10

Bright

I had a lovely walk today. I found a footpath I hadn't seen before which ran parallel to the River Wensum. After a mile or so in the sunshine it took me over a beautiful bridge and then up through some ancient, coppiced woodland. I feel energised, exercised and exhiliratingly close to Mother Nature. The days are getting shorter and darker, but I can deal with any amount of rain-soaked torrid weekends, and still have the strength to face the fight against winter depression, as long as there are days like today. Even if they're only occasional.

RC 16-11-10

helpful habit

I'm going to start blogging more often again.
When I'm not posting daily, I soon get out of the habit and then it gets harder and harder to start up again.
I also find it quite useful mentally. Sharing my life with you and writing down my thoughts and feelings about what's going on is a nice way to air my troubles and start to improve them.
I have no friends and I can't afford a psychiatrist, so you can be my therapy.

Confusion continues

Hannah keeps bursting into tears. I asked whether it was Nathan’s fault and she said “No, it’s my hormones. I feel raw and troubled and emotional.” I said “You and ninety per cent of the world, sweetheart, so join the club.” It didn’t help, so I made her a cup of tea and pretended I had some paperwork to do in my bedroom.

Philippa has asked me out again. She nervously cornered me in the kitchen yesterday and invited me to a showing of some arty Italian film. It’s on tonight in the city. Now, morally, the thing to do at this point is to say “Actually Philippa I’m seeing someone now so it’s not a good idea.” But what I did was scan Emily’s work schedule in my head and, having remembered that she’s working tonight, said “That sounds great.”
So we’re getting a bite to eat at 6 and then making our way to the cinema.
What am I doing??????

RC 13-11-10

Chesworth confused

Emily has been a bit strange since the weekend, and it’s making everything feel a bit strained. It’s the first spell of awkwardness in our relationship. It’s probably just one of those things - a glitch - but my head is trying to tell me that the wheels are falling off forever and this relationship, like my others before it, is heading for the crash barrier. I called round to see Ted last night for some advice and to apologise for not seeing him on Sundays recently. I explained that I have a new ‘lady friend’ and that Sundays are her only full day off. He just said “Deer don’t swim in the rutting season” and handed me a cup of tea.
Beryl was excited to see me and brought out two weeks supply of scones for four people. She asked why I haven’t been round and Ted said “pre-marital sinful coitus indulgement” She got excited again and said “oh lovely - it’s about time you got together with that Philippa girl.”
I tried to explain the situation, but then realised I couldn’t, because I don’t really understand it myself. So I had another scone and changed the topic of conversation to cricket.

RC 10-11-10

Oh, man..

I’m not sure, but I think Emily and I almost had that conversation yesterday. You know the one - when you’ve been together too long to call it a shagfest, but not long enough to call it a relationship, and rather than let it go on the same someone feels the urge to analyse it and decide ‘what’s going on.’ I was cooking lunch. I diced some new potatoes and microwaved them in hot water, then threw them in a wok with some soy sauce and fresh ginger. I kept tossing them over a medium heat, gradually adding some peppers and mushrooms and then throwing in some beansprouts for the last couple of minutes. Served it all up with some cold chicken and a glass of cheap white wine. It’s an old favourite that I first cooked at uni. It’s cheap to pay for and easy to prepare, but people tend to go into raptures about it.
I’m aware of the fact that I’m using the meal as a way to deflect from details about ‘the conversation’ and that’s exactly what I did in the kitchen last night. I concentrated fully on slicing, dicing and cooking and tried to avoid Emily’s comments and questions while I plied her with wine and bounced the topic around as deftly as I bounced the food around the wok. She gave up eventually, and we had a nice evening, albeit with a tinge of atmosphere for the first time since we met. I know we need to discuss things eventually, but that’s the bit of relationships that I am crap at, and that’s when things usually start to unravel. How can I discuss long-term plans with someone that I’ve only made a connection with sexually? Shame Clare Rayner died last week, or I’d be calling her up for advice.

RC 7-11-10

Drunken philosophy

3rd blog of the day, no less.
Shows you I have nothing better to do when Emily is working..
I have just been to the pub, where I saw the worst band in existence.
They were called 'The Cheerful Chaos' and they did a capella versions of songs by The Darkness.
You can't imagine just how bad songs by The Darkness are until you've heard them performed a capella by two 17-year-old music students and their alcoholic bearded uncle.
I didn't stay long. Neither did anyone else.
On my way out, I saw the tail end of a punch-up in the smoking shelter. Two blokes were laying into each other quite furiously, in a manner which led me to think they must be fighting about either a woman, or a football match. But it turned out I was wrong - as one of them was pulled away by the doorman, he could clearly be heard shouting "INSIGHT and INNATE BEHAVIOUR are the same thing, you BASTARD."
Nice way to end an evening.

RC 30-10-10

The pros and cons of witch-hiking

I bloody hate Hallowe'en.
I never got taken around by my mum to collect sweets from strangers, why should anyone else have that pleasure?
I've already had to turn away three groups of scavengers from our front door this evening, and it's only the 30th...
I'll bet you a shiny pound and a soggy chocolate that we end the weekend with our house attacked and our windows egged or painted.

On the plus side, Emily has promised to come over tomorrow dressed as 'a sexy witch' so it should be better than last year.

RC 30-10-10

Sister act

Hannah is going to do a Performing Arts course.
Yes I’m surprised as well.
Nathan is apparently encouraging her to follow her heart and use her ‘God-given talents’ which for some reason they both think include acting.
She’s already joined our local Amateur Dramatics group, which she hopes will serve as a ‘launch pad for her abilities.’
Mmm.
I don’t know how far she and ‘Agent Godboy’ think she can go, but I think the chances of her being a successful actress are about the same as my chances of being a successful racehorse.

RC 30-10-10

Back and bouncy

Evening all.
You’ve probably guessed by my continued absence from blogworld, but Emily and I are still together, and still spending most of our time in bed. It’s been great, although a little repetitive, and is a nice distraction from the weary world outside. Whether or not it will develop into anything beyond that remains to be seen.
A weird thing happened at work this week. Philippa and I haven’t spent so much time together because she tends to be working closely with Tom now he’s back, while I end up moving between the office and the warehouse. Yesterday though, we ended up sitting together eating our lunch, and we had a really nice conversation. Maybe the fact that I’m not talking to her through a cloud of uncertainty about our ‘relationship’ meant I could be more open and frank with her, but either way it had a positive affect. As she got up to put the kettle on, she said “Something has changed about you in the last few weeks. I don’t know what it is, but it’s made you more relaxed about yourself, and it’s been very good for you.”
I thought telling her the cause is sex with another woman wouldn’t go down well, so I lied and said “I’ve joined a gym”
Something in me really doesn’t want to tell her I’m seeing someone, and I’m not entirely sure why. Am I still hoping we’ll end up together? Am I worried it’ll change her opinion of me? Whatever the reason, I may not have to worry about it much longer. Tom tells me his wife wants to come back to the company after Christmas, so I’ll be out of work again, and Philippa and I won’t be seeing each other anymore anyway. And I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that, but it doesn’t feel good. Why is life so confusing?

RC 29-10-10

Call me crazy, but..

I’ve booked myself a holiday. I’m going to be spending the week of my birthday next year in Tunisia!! I told you Emily was having a strange effect on me. Not only am I smiling again and planning things, but I‘m over-riding my fears and insecurities to act on those plans. I’m changing, and it’s most welcome. Maybe it’s not her, maybe it’s the situation - I’ve got my confidence back and my self-esteem is growing and life is looking like an open door again, rather than a restrictive, closed closet.
Amazing what a bit of sex can do for a man.

RC 21-10-10

Whatever has come over me?

I spoke to sister Sophie today. She’s trying to avoid expensive Christmas travel, so she’s trying to arrange some extra days off in December. I told her we’d be ready for her whatever day she arrived. I’m even thinking of buying a car so I can collect her from the airport myself. I’m thinking of lots of things that I might do in the near future actually. I’m not sure what it is about Emily, but this girl is having a miraculous effect on my psyche. There’s something magical about her, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Well, actually, I can put my finger on it, and have quite regularly in the last two weeks, but that’s a crude joke and I already regret typing it, and I apologise.

RC 20-10-10

"a means of restoring to health; a remedy"

Emily has turned me on to The Cure. Actually she’s turned me on to lots of things. Actually I could just put ‘she’s turned me on’ and leave it there, but I think I’ve covered that aspect of our relationship enough in the past few days, so let’s get back to the music.
The only Cure songs I was familiar with were ‘The Love Cats’ (because it used to be overplayed at uni parties) and ‘Friday I’m In Love’ (because it was, and still is, overplayed on radio.) But Emily has given me a Greatest Hits CD and I am very, very impressed. It’s not deep, it’s just fun, and that makes it the perfect soundtrack to my world at the moment.

RC 19-10-10

Rory, you SLUT

I met Emily two weeks ago and I only found out today what her surname is. I can tell you her favourite sexual positions, and can describe in detail the tattoo she has on her buttock, but I can’t tell you where her parents live, or if she has any brothers or sisters. A few months ago, this kind of behaviour would sicken me, but for the past fortnight I’ve been too overwhelmed with joy to care. Sometimes in life events happen so quickly that it takes a while for your consciousness and conscience to catch up. One day I may look back and feel ashamed, but for today I simply feel happy.

RC 18-10-10

Where have I been?

Hello.
Why is this my first blog entry for 17 days?
I have been distracted, spending time with a rather pleasant young lady.
Do any of you remember what it’s like when you’ve been sexless for a long time? and you suddenly find yourself ‘between the sheets’ with someone again? It’s been hard to drag myself out of bed for things like eating, much less for things like sitting at a laptop writing and posting blogs.
Don’t leap to conclusions by the way - it’s not who you might be thinking it is.
Two weeks ago I met a very nice woman called Emily. We found we have a lot in common, and one of the things we have in common is that we are sexually attracted to each other. I hate to sound like a slut, but we both made our feelings very clear very quickly and acted on them within hours and she’s barely been in her own bed since.
It’s led to a bit of an atmosphere at home. Hannah is disgusted at our behaviour, and is trying to prevent Nathan from coming round anymore. She doesn’t want my ‘loose sexual morals’ to affect her relationship with Godboy. I said it was more likely to be affected by the fact that she’d had more men than Jordan when she met him. I expected her to lash out, but she took a deep breath and said “Past behaviour is irrelevant. Today and tomorrow are the important days now.” So I said “Well today and tomorrow Emily and I plan to be f***ing, so best you and Nathan **** off somewhere.”
The atmosphere at work is a bit odd too, as you can imagine. It’s a bit confusing being with Philippa three days a week, but it’s not as if we were really getting anywhere is it? And I’m having too much fun with Emily to worry about what might have been, or could be, with someone I’ve hardly had conversations with, much less kissed.
So there.
I’m going to cook some pasta now. Emily will be back this evening, and I think I’ll be needing the energy.

RC 17-10-10

REALLY useless trivia

It’s October tomorrow, so I thought I’d leave you with my three favourite pieces of info that I’ve discovered during September:

Bryan Adams has only three vowels in his name, and they’re all ‘A’
98% of Algeria’s exports are oil or natural gas.
Horses don’t get jet lag.

RC 30-9-10

Dream on (again)

I had another one of my bizarre dreams last night.
I was doing a bungee jump in the Arctic. I was naked, standing on a platform about a thousand feet above the clouds. I was worried that I couldn’t see the ground but the supervisor guy kept saying “don’t worry about that. You won’t go down that far.” Jo Brand was waiting in the queue behind me. She was wearing a bikini and she said “If you do it like a brave boy this will be your reward.” and she slapped her own arse.
As I leapt off the platform I heard the supervisor guy say “Shit, we forgot to inflate the bouncy castle” and all I could think was “.. I don’t even like Jo Brand..”
If Dr Freud is reading this, I’d love to hear from you.

RC 30-9-10

CDIII

I reached a milestone at the weekend without realising it. No, it wasn’t a year since my last kiss, although I can understand why you might think that. I’ve actually now posted more than 400 blog entries. I don’t know if that should be celebrated, or whether I should apologise for still putting you through this trot on a regular basis, but I noticed, so I thought I’d mention it. I was tempted to read back through them all and see what my journey has been like, but thankfully I changed my mind. I try to be honest when I’m writing these posts and I’m worried that if I re-read them now I’ll think they make me seem like someone I don’t like, and then I might try to change the way I write from now on. Jeez, does that make any sense what-so-ever?
I also think that if I re-read them, I’ll find that I’ve written something like ‘does that make any sense what-so-ever?’ quite often, as I’m so lacking in confidence about most things I do that I feel most of my posts are worthless as soon as I’ve committed them to paper.
Anyway - ignoring the fact that there’s no ‘paper’ involved so my last line was complete nonsense - if you’ll have me, I hope to be around for another 400 at least……..
　
RC 28-9-10

Too much food, not enough action

I spent most of the hours between 1 and 3 this morning throwing up.
I think it was over-eating.
Beryl made some rather lovely broccoli and stilton soup and I made a bit of a pig of myself. Then last night Hannah and I ate our way through a box of chocolates while talking about Christmas and Sophie. And then I went to bed. And then I woke up feeling like someone had put my stomach in a washing machine and set it on spin.

Beryl gave me hassle about Philippa yesterday as well. She said “Oh, that girl was so nice, and it was so obvious you liked each other, why haven’t we seen her since the World Cup?” I found myself being honest and saying “Because I’m an idiot. I ended up being nasty to her because I was jealous and confused and things haven’t been the same since.” Beryl shook her head and walked off saying ‘shame, shame’ Ted just called me a bloody kid, and an amateur, and told me I should ‘man up’ and ‘get it on’ before it’s too late and I end up lonely, gay or married to someone I’ve never loved.
I asked him which one applied to him and he said this: “All is well in my world. I have no regrets, and do you know why? When I met the woman of my dreams, I told her so and I set out to win her. I didn’t hide behind fear and jealousy and miss my chance of happiness. You think about that next time you’re looking at that girl across the office in silence.”
Sometimes he’s so right I hate him.

RC 27-9-10

Sunday night haiku

The dartboard that Simon claimed he ‘got for Christmas a few years ago and then left in the cupboard’ actually had The White Horse Public House stamped on the back of it. I have a feeling it reached him not via Santa’s sack but at the end of a drunken night out. Beryl was disgusted. Apparently she did not ‘bring him up to steal ,and to lie.’
Something monumental happened in the course of our afternoon, so like all great historians, I shall report it in the style of poetry:

I beat Ted at darts!
After months of painful loss
Finally I win!!!!

RC 26-9-10

One sport for another

Looks like my bike might be condemned to life in the garage for another Winter. It’s been raining solid for three days and the Met Office website tells me it should rain for another three days, so I think I’ll pencil in my next bike ride for March.
This afternoon, Ted and I are playing darts. We’ve been trying to learn these weird Japanese card games that I’ve found on the internet, but they’re complicated, and boring, and take six months to play, so we’re gonna go for a good old English pub game instead. His son Simon had an old dartboard laying around so he’s let us borrow it and hang it up in the kitchen, much to Beryl’s discomfort. She’s worried about damage from mis-thrown arrows, so I expect she’ll have the walls and carpet covered in bubble wrap.

RC 26-9-10

200 words about something..

I’ve been feeling uninspired about blog writing recently. Mind you, I’ve been feeling uninspired about pretty much everything. The weather is changing, work unfortunately isn’t; my love-life is poo, and I don’t see much of my sister Hannah anymore as she seems to think if she goes more than an hour without seeing Nathan she’ll die.
Today, however, I received some very happy, very welcome news.. Sophie, my other sister who lives in Edinburgh, is going to come and see us for Christmas!! I hate to start planning yuletide stuff this far ahead, but she called today and asked to discuss it. She’s had to work right through each of the last four Christmases, and this year they’ve made sure she’s not on the schedules, so she asked if she could spend it with us! I’m so excited I’m starting to wish it was December already. I know Hannah will be thrilled too, but I haven’t had a chance to tell her yet. I thought of texting her the news but I’d like to see her reaction, so I’ll have to wait until she’s not with Nathan, or not distracted by thinking about Nathan.
That’ll probably be sometime in January.

RC 23-9-10

Rory's On The Road Again

I’m having a few ‘refresher’ driving lessons. I’ve got the urge to open up my life a little work-wise and socially, and having a car is probably the best way to do that. I haven’t driven since passing my test however, so I thought I’d spend a few quid and get myself up to scratch. Ted thinks I’m wasting my money. He said “Once you learn, you never forget. It’s like riding a bike.” Cars, of course, have four wheels, so I suppose he’s half right.
This evening I sat beside a nice BSM instructor named Amanda and drove from my house up towards Wells, on the North Norfolk coast. We spent most of the journey there stuck behind an old couple in a Volvo doing 26mph, then spent most of the way back stuck behind a tractor and trailer loaded full of steaming, stinking animal shit on it’s way to be ploughed into a field somewhere. Amanda said “Get used to this. It’s the truth of Norfolk driving.” According to her BSM ID card, she moved here last year after learning her trade in Essex. I’m guessing she’d like to go back.

RC 22-9-10

Angry, of Norfolk

There’s been ‘an outcry’ about last weekend’s edition of the TV programme “The X Factor”
Apparently, one of the acts on the show has a history as a call girl.
People are outraged that producers let a ‘whore’ appear among the contestants.
I’m not sure why - they normally have one among the judges.

RC 21-9-10

Haiku on the Orient Express

I sat up last night watching ‘Murder on the Orient Express’ which is one of my all-time favourite films. I then had one of my bouts of insomnia, so I decided to write some haiku about the people that were in it.
These are my favourite three:

Anthony Perkins
was a nutcase in ‘Psycho’
and in real life too

Vanessa Redgrave
may be old and wrinkly now
but she was DAMN HOT!!

Suchet is ok
But no-one can play Poirot
like Albert Finney

RC 20-9-10

Bad dad

I met someone today who is even crueller with kids names than Tom is. He’s an ex-professional drummer from Oxford, currently on holiday in North Norfolk, and he has three children. They’re called Austin, Dustin and Justin.

Here’s a resulting haiku:

Names you give to kids
Should not be embarrassing
Or ‘Adolf Hitler’

RC 17-9-10

recurring theme

I found some of the unpublished blogs that I was talking about yesterday. I thought I’d share bits of them with you, just to show you the sort of places my head has been in the past fortnight or so…

“Sorry I’ve been absent.
I was in a strange little world of insular consultation.
That conversation in the pub with ‘Thommo’ really affected me. I couldn’t get the idea of Philippa lowering herself to the likes of him out of my head, and I’ve been in a foul mood as a result. She could tell something was wrong at work and kept asking me what was going on, and I was just horrible to her. I treated her as if we’d been married for fifteen years and I’d just found out she’d been unfaithful. I knew it was just my insecurities, confusions and jealousies making me behave that way but I couldn’t help it.”
　
“I had a lovely evening last night. Nathan came over to be with Hannah and I cooked us all a meal. He was telling me about his family’s attitude towards Hannah. Some of them call her The Fallen Woman, just because she’d had sex a few times before they met. Unbelievable. His parents are ok and like her a lot, but he has an uncle who sounds like he should be an evangelist on American TV or something.
It all made me re-evaluate my ‘relationship’ with Philippa. I’d been quite nasty to her at work this week, just because she may or may not have had sex with that guy I met in the pub on Monday. I know it’s just jealousy, but I couldn’t help myself. Laying awake in bed last night though, I realised a few things.. Firstly, it’s no business of mine what Philippa has been getting up to, or is getting up to, especially as we’re not even an item, and anything she’s done in the past doesn’t make her any less of a person. After all, my sister spent her early twenties having more sex than a sheep has tics, and she’s proving herself capable of love .. Secondly, I’m not the most experienced sexual animal on Earth, but I’m no blushing virgin, and I can’t expect any potential girlfriend to be one either. And thirdly, and it pains me to admit it, but Thommo is a good-looking hunky guy, and if I was a girl in my early twenties with more sex drive than sense, I may have been tempted by him myself.
So I’m going to cut the girl some slack, and start being nice to her again.
Or I might continue to hide my feelings behind a veil of indifference and then stare at her longingly across the office…”

I promise you tomorrow’s blog will have NO MENTIONS WHAT-SO-EVER of the young lady that I currently work with, whose name begins with P.

RC 16-9-10

Let's play catch-up..

I’m back after my late-Summer break.
I haven’t been anywhere, just wallowing in a world of despair and desperation and depression, which happens to me occasionally. I felt tired and pitiful and even writing a blog seemed like too much effort.

I was really affected by the thought of Philippa being with that bloke I met in the pub on Bank Holiday Monday. I reacted by being horrible to her and trying to convince myself I didn’t like her. I wrote several thousand words about it as blog entries but thankfully never published any of them. Then I finally got my head straight about it all at the weekend, so I’m trying to be nice again now, and I just hope I haven’t put her off me completely.

I’m thinking of doing an evening class in something. Helping out in The Weary World of Wallpaper isn’t exactly a riveting career choice, and there aren’t many spare jobs around, so I may try re-training as a chef or learning French or something.
The supermarket have asked if I’d be interested in doing some shifts in the build-up to Christmas, and I’m actually considering it. Extra money without having to go somewhere new is always worth thinking about, even though I’d rather nail my own feet to a leopard than ever be a stock replenishment operative again.

Apologies now:
I apologise for my absence over the past two weeks.
I apologise for the incoherent, nonsensical nature of this rambling blog entry today.
And she won’t be reading this, but I apologise to Philippa for being such an emotionally-retarded f**kwit that I can’t deal with my feelings for her, and consequently in her presence I act like either a sulking 6-year-old brat or a misogynistic bastard who is completely impervious to her charms, which I can assure you I am not.

RC 15-9-10

P.S.. S.A.D..

One other thing from yesterday that I wanted to share with you - another classic quote-of-all-quotes from Jared..
I’d been drunkenly moaning about how awful the August weather has been. I said that the main problem was that I need bright summers to build up my resistance against winter depression. Because there was so little sun in the past few weeks, I said, I could already feel the onset of S.A.D.
After staring at blank faces around the table, I went on to explain as clearly as I could about Seasonal Affective Disorder. Following a brief pause, a sickly-smiling Jared said “I had a rough weekend with a girl from Yarmouth, and left her with a kind of S.A.D……. Sticky Arse Disease.”
And the families at the tables around us tutted and huffed.
And the supermarket masses roared with delight.
And people wonder why I don’t work there anymore.
See you in September

RC 31-8-10

Who invited him anyway?

I’ve been hungover all day today.
I met up with some of the supermarket guys for ‘a lunchtime Bank Holiday drink and darts game’ which dragged on and descended into drunken-ness. I was holding my own and doing ok and getting ready to head home, when Jared started asking me about women and I found myself talking about Philippa. I did my usual half-cut trick of being far too loud and far too open, and promptly broadcast my feelings and thoughts to anyone within a ten-feet radius. One of the other guys at the table - a new recruit to the store called ‘Tommo’ or something - said “I know her. She used to work at my dads office. The thing about her is, she’s got a really great body, but she doesn’t know how to use it.”
I suddenly felt really sick. I don’t think I believe anything really happened between them, I think he was just trying to wind me up, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and it made me feel really uncomfortable. Trouble was, I knew that if I made excuses and left, my feelings would be obvious, and he would have won. So I did what any man of my age would do in those circumstances - I drank through it….
As a result, I’ve spent all day today feeling absolutely awful, both physically and emotionally. If I opened my eyes, the room would spin and my stomach would churn; if I closed my eyes, I’d see an image of Philippa being frotted by that long-haired, lanky, devilishly-handsome bastard of a delivery driver. Not a nice day at all.

RC 31-8-10

Pause for thought, and poetry

According to our local press, boatyards on the Norfolk Broads are struggling to find skilled staff, and they’re crying out for talented woodworkers. If Jesus Christ is ever planning to return, now might be a good time to do it.

I had a fun afternoon with Ted, talking about corruption in cricket and watching the rain beat down on the conservatory roof. He was telling me that he’s barely drunk alcohol in over a year, and that he feels so much better since behaving healthier. It inspired me to write him a limerick:

There was an old soldier called Ted
Who liked to drink whiskey in bed
Then his heart nearly stopped
So his drinking he stopped
Coz he’d rather be sober than dead

RC 29-8-10

I hate to admit I was wrong, but..

I had a good chat with Nathan today. A really good chat. We talked for over an hour and religion wasn’t mentioned once. It seems I may have done him a mis-service, and he’s not the God-obsessed blind sheep I thought he was. I remember something Hannah said to me when they first got back together. “His faith is only one part of him, it’s not his entire personality.” At the time I just took it as a throw-away comment, and promptly threw it away, but maybe she was right. I must make an effort to get to know him better, especially as it looks likely he’ll end up as my brother-in-law.

RC 27-8-10

Haiku about the recent weather

August has been shit
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit
Shitty shit-shit shit

RC 26-8-10

Palindromes, Day 2

Oh God, there’s more..

“Norfolk man Ned Parry discovers insects making a hide-out”:
NED P SAW WASP DEN

The Palindromic Northern football chant:
TWO-NOWT, TWO-NOWT, TWO-NOWT, TWO-NOWT
(repeat ad infinitum)

Headline when police discover why a lorry load of car accessories fell into the road:
PARTS ON - NO STRAP

Something to shout at an appropriately-named male friend when he’s looking miserable:
YO, JON! NO JOY?

And you can make up your own stories or circumstances to go with these ones:
HOI! DES! SARAH HARASSED I… OH!
RATS NOTE NOW IF FI WON ETON STAR
PAL REVO’S D.N.A LANDS OVER LAP

I really have to stop this now..

RC 25-8-10

"Nurses run"

I’ve been having fun with palindromes again. People may have ‘invented’ these ones already, but not as far as I’m aware. Just for more fun, I’ve imagined them as headlines and come up with the storylines they might be appropriate to:

Story that lots of hospital sisters want to work with flu patients:
‘NOSES RUN’ WARDS DRAW NURSES ON

Article about a British serviceman who saw action in the Vietnam War:
WAS ‘NAM FAR? R.A.F MAN SAW

Story that a singing GP has recorded a song about African animals catching fish and leaving them on the riverbank to decay:
“GNUS ROT COD” DOCTOR SUNG

When a heat wave silences owls:
TOO HOT TO HOOT

Story about ‘Only Fools and Horses’ actor David Jason touring the country preaching the gospel using an unusual mode of transport:
DEL’S GOD DOGSLED

I need help..

RC 24-8-10

Look what I did today..

As it keeps raining, I’ve been spending lots of time playing word games on a notepad. It passes the time, and helps keep the grey matter active, but it doesn’t always lead anywhere. I’m pleased with today’s result though..

A Palindrome About Wilfred Owen:

DRAB WAR TIMES EMIT RAW BARD

© R.Chesworth 2010

High Cue

We actually had some nice weather today, albeit a bit windy, so I took advantage and got the old bicyclette out. I packed a backpack with drink and snacks and a notepad and took myself off into the countryside. After a couple of delightful miles, followed by several painful ones, I stopped by a lovely church in a village I’ve never been to before. I sat in the churchyard with my shirt off, enjoying my sandwiches and writing some new haiku.
Shall I share them with you now?

Norfolk this Summer
Has been wet, windy and dull
Where’s global warming??

When I was eighteen
I thought one night stands were wrong
Now I seek them out

I’m an Englishman
So I am shy about sex
But really want it

Churchyards are pretty
Shame they are run by Christians
Or I’d visit more

Football is a sport
that seems to be on telly
Bloody constantly

Tabloid newspapers
can’t be used as toilet rolls
They’re too full of shit

Jamie Oliver
is an annoying puss-stain
who earns too much cash

I call this one ‘Haiku Headstone’:
Here lies Mark Forncett
Killed by his lover’s husband
Who cut off his cock

I then set myself a challenge - to write a 3-Word Haiku. That is, a poem made up of just three words, the first and last made up of 5 syllables, the middle one made up of 7. It would be, I thought, my Ultimate Example Of Haiku.
Two hours later, this is the best I’d come up with:

Ostentatiousness
overexuberantly
antagonises

RC 21-8-10

Beryl's birthday

It was, as the blog title above might suggest, Beryl’s birthday today. I wanted to get her something nice, to say thank you for all the nice snacks she makes when I’m round with Ted, and for all the times she has me and Hannah over and showers us with hospitality. A couple of weeks ago I was talking to her in the kitchen and trying to subtly find out what her interests are so I could get something appropriate. At one point, hugging a large glass of wine she said ‘I have to say I’m a big fan of nettles.’
It struck me as odd, but was just the information I was looking for. So for her birthday I got her a couple of rare nettle plants online, a box of nettle tea and a herbal cookbook that has a nice chapter about nettle salads and stir frys.
It turns out she meant JOHN Nettles, the actor.
So after much embarrassment (on my part) and much hilarity (on everyone else’s) I have promised to get her ‘Midsomer Murders’ on DVD.
Happy Birthday Beryl.

RC 20-8-10

Back to reality... with a bump

I was almost looking forward to work today. It’s been so wet and horrible that I thought I might as well be at work earning money, as you can’t do anything else in this weather. And yes, I admit it, I was excited about seeing Philippa. When I got there, she was in tears. She wouldn’t talk to anybody, she kept running off to the toilet, she took several calls on her mobile, and then she burst into tears again.
Bloody women.
I had turned up thinking she’d be radiant and smiling and pleased to see me, but she wasn’t. Why can’t people just be how I want them to be and make life easier for me?
Anyhow, it turns out someone made a big complaint about something going wrong, and it had happened while Tom was off and she was in charge so she thought she was going to get shouted at and fired, but in the end he was fine about it, and he sorted it out and it was ok. By 3pm she was smiling again and being nice to me. She brought me a cup of tea and said “Sorry about this morning. I was tired and emotional and over-reacting. It’s probably because I’m a bit pre-menstrual.”
Without hesitating for sensible things like thought and consideration I sarcastically said “Shit, thanks for telling me, I’d never have guessed.”
And lo, the world of the office was once again plunged into icy silence…..
Bloody women..

RC 18-8-10

Stories from the Beach Pt 3 - 'Man on a Mission'

I went for a walk on the beach this morning. It hasn’t exactly been beach weather, but I was sick of being trapped indoors by the rain, and I was missing Philippa and feeling confused about her so I buggered off on the bus and went for a walk on the sand.
At the bottom of the ramp, right near the café, there were a bunch of Christian evangelists trying to nab people on holiday and somehow convert them to Jesus.
One of them, who looked like he had just had his first shave and was there on some kind of apprenticeship, locked eyes with me and fell into step alongside me.
“Isn’t this beautiful?” he said.
I grunted a reply of some kind.
He said “God has done great work here, hasn’t he?”
I grunted an “eh?”
He said “If I may quote Psalms, 147:8 - ‘He covers the sky with clouds, he supplies the earth with rain, and maketh the grass grow on the hills.’”
I wanted to punch him, but instead I found myself saying “I prefer the words of Mr Noel Gallagher - ‘I don’t believe in Magic, life is automatic’”
Personally I would have considered the argument closed at that point, but he kept following me and trying to talk to me so in the end I stopped and said “Look mate, I know you think you’re doing a good thing, but don’t waste your time. God is bullshit, and only an idiot would think otherwise, so please bugger off sharpish and leave me alone before you really annoy me and I get violent.”
He smiled one of those sanctimonious smiles that only the self-righteous can muster, put his hand on my arm and said “Don’t you forget what it says in the book of Leviticus: Love thy neighbour as thyself”
So I said “Don’t you forget what Clint Eastwood says in Dirty Harry - ‘GO F*** YOURSELF’” and I knocked his hand off my arm and pushed him out of the way.
It wasn’t an exact quote from the film, but it had the desired affect.
Hell, here I come.

No work today - yeah, baby, yeah!!

Man, it feels good to be at home.
I woke up today with that Monday morning dread that we all know - the one that we first experience as schoolchildren ,and which stays with most of us throughout our working lives - and then suddenly I remembered that I’m not back in the office til Wednesday, and my heart went “YYYEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!” I thought of seventeen different ways I could spend my morning, eventually settling on a nice cycle ride and then maybe lunch at a pub. Then I opened the curtains, and it was as if I’d been kidnapped, drugged and dumped in the middle of November.
Bloody Norfolk with it’s bloody ‘Summer’ weather.
So I’m staying in all day watching DVDs of ‘Seinfeld’

Ted and I played a game of dominoes yesterday. That was a stupid decision, but was made more enjoyable by Beryl bringing out a home-made coconut cheesecake as a ‘taste test.’ She’s trying to win a prize at next week’s W.I. fete, so Ted and I had to be the guinea pigs for her new recipe.
We’ve started a new ‘music exchange club’ as well - Ted is playing me some old classics from his youth and I’m trying to introduce him to some more modern sounds. Yesterday he treated me to John Lee Hooker, which he called “real music based on real pain produced by a real musician.” I played him some tracks by Ray Lamontagne, which he called “shit.” I was a bit offended, as personally I think Ray’s voice is one of the most beautiful things I’ve encountered in the last decade (alongside Philippa’s smile, and pictures from the Hubble telescope)
Still, each to their own.

RC 16-8-10

Rory's revelation - 13th August 2010

Being single and celibate is fine, unless you're working with someone you really fancy..

RC 13-8-10

Not the kind of oral I like..

I had a check-up at the dentist today. I bloody hated it. I don’t like having another man’s fingers in any of my orifices, even if it is just my mouth. It wouldn’t be so bad if I saw the same dentist every time I went for a check-up, but I don’t. Our dental practice gets through staff at the rate Katie Price gets through husbands. Last year I had a Polish dentist with a Scottish assistant, and they could barely understand each other. I went in for a filling and half expected to have my leg amputated. This time around, I was seen by a South African man named Micheel and his recently-out-of-uni assistant, who is from South Korea. He’s got long hair and a strong accent while she’s about four feet five inches tall with dark glasses. It was like being treated by John Lennon and Yoko Ono.
Apparently I have to floss more, or risk gum disease.

RC 12-8-10

From the desk of Rory Chesworth..

Working with Tom is just weird. The job has taken on a whole new aspect now I’m dealing with his general level of insanity. No wonder Philippa finds it hard sometimes. He’s understandably buoyant from becoming a dad again, but doesn’t seem to realise that not everyone else is as excited as he is. How many times do I need to see a photo of his new son sleeping? Every day, apparently. Twice a day, if his wife decides to send him a photo to his iPhone.
He’s spending so much time wandering around sharing his delight with his workforce that he’s never actually around to do any work. He might as well not be here.
I think this is the last week I’ll be working six days. I’ll miss the money but at least I won’t be in the office all the time.

RC 9-8-10

Let me update you..

I really like August so far.

The weather hasn’t been very Summery, which is good as the heat tends to bring me out in a rash, and tends to bring out hordes of tourists. This way it’s cool enough to bike about and see places without sweating yourself to death and without having 900 day-trippers in your way armed with cameras.

Philippa and I have been quite coy with each other, but she has suggested we go out again soon. I said yes, as long as it’s fun and doesn’t involve sitting in a stiff shirt eating pretentious food. I think we’re going ten-pin bowling next weekend.

It looks like I won’t be attending my local doctors surgery anymore. The loathsome locum Dr Sinclair is staying on longer and as I haven’t seen fit to apologise to him, I may have to find another GP.

Ted and I are trying our hands at boules later. He picked up a set at an auction for a couple of quid and I’ve managed to print off the rules from the internet. Beryl has promised to prepare French-style snacks to help get us in the mood. I’m not entirely sure what ‘French-style snacks’ will contain. Lots of brie and garlic, I assume.

As promised, I’ve been doing a bit of research into my ancestors. So far I’ve found out that my great-great-uncle was sentenced to hard labour, that my maternal great-grandfather is not the man in the photo I have in an album, and that I may or may not be related by marriage to Nazi war criminal Martin Bormann. I’ve decided not to dig any deeper.

RC 8-8-10

Good save, Rory..

What a few days it has been. From the depths of despair on Saturday, it’s all been uphill and I find myself walking on air like Aled Jones after his drink has been spiked by the Snowman.
I did send Philippa an e-mail on Saturday, but not the one I originally planned. It simply said this: “Sorry about last night. I didn’t feel great. Can we try again soon? Like, very soon? Please?”
That night I got a reply from her. The best one I’ve ever received. It said “How about tomorrow?”
No posh food and uncomfortable silences this time. We went to the pictures to see ‘Inception’ and then had fish and chips and an ice-cream and a walk on the beach. We talked and we talked and we talked. We talked about our favourite cheeses, the worst Christmas present we’ve ever received, and all that other rubbish you talk about when you’re relaxed and enjoying someone’s company.
The weather was fine and the evening was warm, and time seemed to stand still as we slowly walked and chatted and got to know more about each other. It was the best night I’ve had for a long, long time.
On Monday morning, knowing I would see her again, I was actually excited about going to work.
Every time I’ve looked at her in the last couple of days, she’s been smiling at me, and she has a beautiful, beautiful smile.

RC 4-8-10

Oh dear

I feel odd today.
I think it's because yesterday was odd.
There was a weird atmosphere between me and Philippa all day, as we were working together but due to go out together later.
It was like a big old fat ugly elephant in the room that neither of us could bring ourselves to talk about.
As a result, the meal itself was a bit of a disaster really.
I'd spent all day trying to work out whether I should consider it a date, or a meal with a work-mate, or an evening out with my boss.
I got in such a state that instead of enjoying a relaxed evening with someone I like, I turned into a nervous wreck and barely said ten words all evening. By the time the dessert menu arrived, we sat there like a married couple whose love has died and can't find anything to say to each other.
Not exactly what I'd been hoping for.

I'm thinking of sending her an e-mail at home to apologise and try to make the situation better.
This is my draft version:
"Philippa, it wasn't you, it was me. I haven't been out with a woman for ages and I'd forgotten how to be myself in social settings. You looked lovely and the food was lovely, but i couldn't eat it and enjoy it as my guts were screwed up tighter than a nuns knickers. I drank wine to try and qwell the nerves, which was unfair because you were driving and not drinking so you couldn't have any, and you were paying for it, and it didn't work anyway as it made me even more withdrawn. Your evening must have been shit. If we do it again, I promise to be more relaxed, and better company. I'll take a bottle of Kalms or start smoking or something, and hopefully you'll see more of the person you liked enough at work to ask out for a meal, even though it was really a thank you meal rather than a date. Anyway... call me..."

I don't think there's a way I could make that e-mail worse, but if you can spot one feel free to get in touch.

RC 31-7-10

Schadenfreude express

I have a new favourite taste - MACADAMIA NUTS. Not the salted ones that dry your mouth out and make you want to vom - just the whole, untreated, admittedly over-priced ones you can get in most health shops now. Philippa brought some in today as a snack and they're LOVELY. If you haven't seen them before, they're the ones that look like a poodles testicles, but taste much better. Trust me on this, for I know of which I speak...

Hannah and I had a good chat today, for the first time in ages. Things are going swimmingly with Nathan. I’m pleased for her, obviously, but in some ways I miss the old version of my sister. Sometimes when your own life is a mess it’s nice to have a sibling around who’s even more chuffed-up than you are.

RC 29-7-10

Bonus

Philippa has asked me out!!
She says she’s found it really hard to be in charge with Tom away, and she knows she’s taken it out on me a bit, and she’d like to buy me a meal to apologise and say thank you! So we’re off for a bit of posh nosh on Friday night, on her. When I say ‘on her’ I mean she’s paying, I don’t mean I’ll be using her as a table. Funny how your wit returns when you have something nice to look forward to.

RC 26-7-10

A thought about GOK WAN

Wouldn't his name be more appropriate if the 'K' was moved to the end of his surname?

RC 25-7-10

A good day

Life at work took a slight turn for the better yesterday. Tom came in to see how things are, and to tell us he’ll be coming back to work on Monday. Philippa almost cried with delight. Tom said he wants to take it easy for the first few weeks so he can still be helpful at home, and said he’s been hearing good things about how I’ve been working, so would I like to stay on full time for a bit longer? I said yes, of course. I feel that I know what I’m doing there now and the extra money has been helpful, so why not?
Tom popped out for celebratory cakes and biscuits, and made us all a cup of camomile tea. He was incredibly gracious and grateful to us for running things while he was off doing dad stuff. I conceded that Philippa is the real hero of the situation, and she beamed like a child being spoiled by its grandparent. Tom tells us we can both expect a nice bonus in our wages at the end of the month. I like him more and more by the second.
Philippa spent the rest of the day smiling and being much nicer to me. I still think she’s a bit of a bitch, but that may be my childish emotional state talking, and not me.
Anyway I had a large bottle of wine last night by way of celebration and I’ve woken up with a headache.

RC 24-7-10

Tents, and tense

Hannah and Nathan are having a holiday together next month. They’re camping at a Christian music festival somewhere in Cheshire. I’m assuming they’ll be in separate tents.

Things are still a bit frosty between me and Philippa. I get the impression that she thinks that her victory over me on the tennis court gives her the right to treat me as an underling in the office. I am fighting that concept tooth-and-nail. Technically and politically, I am a different department to her so she can’t tell me what to do. I think she knows that too, but I’m the only other person in the office at the moment, so I’m in the firing line. I know she’s got more work on while Tom is off, but it’s no good taking it out on me.
I have to say though, this job was much more enjoyable when she was being nice to me.

RC 22-7-10

Just the two of us

I spent the evening with Ted yesterday. It was nice to have a good catch-up, as the last few times I’ve been round his house it’s been full of drunk football fans. This time it was just he and I (or ‘us’ in old money)
He was full of good cheer. We chatted about The Open Championship and it took me ten minutes to realise we were talking about golf. Ted says I should have popped round on Sunday to watch it with him and I said ‘I wish I had done that, instead of being beaten up on a tennis court by a megalomaniac sex kitten.’
Ted also talked about watching the highlights of something called ‘Fish-o-mania’ on Sunday, and expressed his disappointment at missing Raymond van Barneveld’s nine-dart finish. He really does love his sport. If Sky showed an afternoon of snail racing and the Latvian ten-pin bowling championships he’d tune in to watch. Some women would go spare if their husbands watched that much sport, but I think Beryl loves it, because if he’s in his armchair watching telly, he’s not out in the garden getting sozzled or getting on at her in the kitchen.
He asked if I’d like to re-start our Sunday Afternoon Chess Club. I said ‘to be honest, I’d rather have my eyebrows plucked out one hair at a time by a blind babboon armed with rusty tweezers.’
I explained my reticence at getting weekly beatings again, and I think he understood my feelings, so we’re going to try learning something new together. The plan is to play something we’re both inexperienced in, so we can play on an even footing and learn from each other as we go.
He’s suggested something called Mah Jongg, which I’m sure he’s made up. It doesn’t sound like a hobby to me, it sounds more like the name of a Klingon.

RC 21-7-10

Deuce-Love-Adieu

Philippa and I played tennis yesterday.
For two hours.
I can barely move.
I turned up full of enthusiasm and pasta. Philippa turned up in a sporty dress with her hair tied up, and armed with an expensive looking racquet.
She looked fantastic. I spent most of the first hour distracted by her athleticism and her legs.
After about 15 minutes, I realised just how hard a game it is to play.
How the Hell Isner and Mahut played all day without dying is remarkable.
It took me six attempts to get a serve over the net, and then Philippa whacked it back past me before I'd even had a chance to stand up straight.
I lost the first set 6-0, and the second set 6-3, and I think she was going easy on me.
I crawled off the court like a defeated wrestler, soaked to the skin and panting like a cat in the sun; Philippa skipped off the court with not one bead of sweat on her beautiful brow.
It's a stupid game, and one I have no interest in playing ever again.
My right shoulder feels like someone has filled the socket with gravel.
A few minutes ago, I asked Philippa if she could give me a massage, considering it was her stupid fault I'm in agony. She just smiled sweetly and told me to get on with my work. I told her it was hard to process orders on the computer when I can barely lift my hand onto the mouse. She told me if my activities away from work were hindering my ability to do my job then maybe I should consider changing them. I said "Damn straight I'm changing them. I'm never playing tennis with you again for a start. You're like a Caucasian Williams sister."
She told me not to forget my place.
The power is going to her head, and it's making her unbearable.
I want a bag of ice for my shoulder, and a new job.

RC 19-7-10

Look who's back..

I had a text from my old supermarket colleague Jared this morning.
It arrived at 9.07am.
It said this:

"Just blocked the toilet at work with an absolute monster shit. Seriously, Ches, it was like a black mans thigh."

I do miss him.

RC 18-7-10

A quiz about Ben Fogle

Which of the following things has Ben Fogle not done successfully?

Rowed across the Atlantic Ocean
Trekked to the South Pole
Completed the Marathon des Sables
Made a television programme that anyone gives a shit about

RC 16-7-10

Has the worm turned?

Panicky and Paranoid - the two guys from the warehouse who were with us on the beach on Saturday - have been incredibly nice to me this week. Bless them. Amazing what the fear of losing your job will do to you, and how it will change your attitude towards the person who has the information that could finish you. They even seem to be moving differently around me. They’re trying to walk erect and upright in a way that resembles homo sapiens. Normally they mooch around with what I call ‘The Oasis Strut.’ You know the thing - when Liam Gallagher wannabes in their late teens and twenties walk like they’ve dislocated both shoulders and shit themselves.
I think they’re trying to look as efficient and hard-working as possible, to prove that the drugs aren’t affecting their performances at work.
I’m not sure why they’re bothering. Neither Philippa nor I intend to tell Tom about their ‘weekend habits’ and I don’t think Tom would care anyway, but they don’t need to know that. It’s nicer having them bring me cups of tea and buy me cakes, than having them call me ‘Lizzie’ and throw toy dinosaurs at me.

RC 15-7-10

My liberating love of language lingers on..

I have a new favourite word:
Onchidoridoidea
Look it up, it’s brilliant. And more importantly, say it out loud. It’s even more satisfying to say than ‘onomatopoeia‘, and sounds even better than ‘lickety-split’ or ‘wobble-board’

RC 14-7-10

Courting

Philippa has challenged me to a game of tennis. I was moaning about not having time to cycle now I’m working six days a week, and saying that I’m starting to feel unfit again, so she asked if I’d like to play with her this coming weekend. I accused her of being unimaginative, and only playing tennis because Wimbledon has just been on, but it turns out she’s been playing regularly since she was ten. I myself have never played. This is like déjà vu, with Ted and chess being replaced by Philippa and tennis. I must have a sign on me somewhere that says “IF YOU HAVE A LIFELONG LOVE OF A SPORT AND ARE VERY GOOD AT IT PLEASE ASK ME TO PLAY IT WITH YOU SO YOU CAN BEAT ME TO DEATH AND HUMILIATE ME.”
We’ve booked the court for midday on Sunday.

RC 13-7-10

Poetry upgrade, example 2

If you can keep your head when all around are losing theirs;
if you can face adversity, and rise above it like a cork on a wave;
If you can get through a day of life and not be upset, or anxious, or concerned in any way;
If you can take all that the world can throw at you - including traffic wardens, rain when you’ve put your washing out, stepping in dog poo when you’re wearing sandals, buying a new shirt and forgetting to take all the pins out before you put it on, the fact that one of your remote controls (normally the one you’re looking for) will always be missing, always having something on the car that needs fixing, people driving 15 miles below the speed limit when you’re running late for work, those annoying pillocks that take up the whole aisle in a supermarket instead of going up one side and then down the other - if you can take all this, and still smile..
Then you must be on valium.

RC 12-7-10

Stories from the Beach Pt 2 - 'Sandy Twats'

We went to the beach after work yesterday. Two of the warehouse boys, who obviously want to get in Philippa’s pants, offered to take booze and a barbecue by way of apologising for all the piss-taking I’ve been subjected to during the week. Nice of them, I thought, until we got there and they started handing round what looked like sun cream. It was a tube of Insect Repellent, and they’d taped the word ‘lizard’ over the word insect. And so the agony goes on…
They told me they’d be cooking up some mushrooms, which I thought sounded fantastic - eating outside using only food that the natural surroundings provided - so I didn’t bother taking any tea. Then, when I got there, I found out what kind of mushrooms they were talking about… They offered to share them, but I declined. I get crazy if I have too much coffee, I’m not going to start trying hallucinogens.
They ended up completely wasted, and sunburnt, and scared to swim as one of them was convinced the sea had turned into an army of jelly babies. We were very tempted to leave them there, but our good natures got the better of us. When we dropped them off, they made us promise not to tell their boss about their drug use, in case it got them sacked. Philippa pointed out while Tom is away she, as Office Manager, technically takes over as their boss.
They left, panicky and paranoid, and probably haven’t slept yet.
Good.
If Philippa and I hadn’t had a nice walk along the beach while they were hiding from demons in the dunes it would have been a totally shitty night.

RC 11-7-10

Poetry upgrade, example 1

I’m still working six days a week, which is a grind, but the money will be useful. To take my mind away from it all on my lunch break, I’ve been re-writing poems to make them more accurate and truthful. Like this one..

I wandered lonely as a cloud;
So actually it must have been quite crowded, mustn’t it?
I mean - you don’t often see just one cloud up in the sky, do you?
No - they’re caused by certain atmospheric conditions which tends to see many of them alongside each other..

I’m sure there’ll be more to follow…

RC 6-7-10

Research, and ribbing

I’m thinking about researching my family tree. It was something Hannah and I talked about after mum left. Our knowledge of our relatives, past and present, was based almost solely on our mother’s drink-addled memory and habitual bullshitting, so we’re not really sure if any of the information we have is correct. Most people who ever had to deal with my mum shut her out of their lives completely, so there could be uncles, cousins or stepsons we know nothing about at all. Initially it was going to be a joint project to help wile away the winter evenings, but now Hannah is pre-occupied with Nathan, I may take it on as a solo gig.

The guys at work are having fun at my expense. There are lots of posters up warning of lizard invasions, and some bright spark has mocked up a picture with my head on a chickens body, and a lizard sitting on its back. Most of them have also started calling me ‘Lizzie’ which is a crap nickname, but better than ‘Ches’ I suppose. Philippa says I should be flattered rather than annoyed, as it shows they’ve accepted me as a member of the workforce. The favourite song in the warehouse today was a re-working of ‘Sex On The Beach’ featuring lyrics about “Rory getting ****ed by a lizard.”
I admire them for their wit, but I hate them intently.

RC 5-7-10

Stories from the Beach Pt 1 - 'Natural Encounter'

Philippa picked me up at noon, and we met the others at a packed, sunny beach. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but I’m not particularly confident around water. Or to put it another way, I’ve never learnt to swim. So I wandered around in my shorts while the others splashed and swam. Later, after a particularly embarrassing attempt at beach volleyball, I realised my shoulders were starting to burn, so I thought it best to cover up. When I put my shirt back on, something scratched my back.. I panicked and ripped my shirt off thinking it might be a bee, but when I looked over my shoulder there was something at least three inches long sitting on my back. I flicked it off thinking it was a caterpillar, but when I looked down it was a bloody LIZARD.
I panicked instantly thinking I was hours from a painful death, until I remembered there’s no indigenous venomous lizards in Britain. But then I thought ‘what if it’s foreign, and had snuck into the packet of strawberries we bought from the shop?’ and the panic returned. As I approached hyperventilation, someone pointed out that the strawberries were grown on a farm two miles away, and that the lizard hadn’t bitten or scratched me anyway, so I started to feel a bit better.
I’ve just spent two hours researching online just in case, and it looks like it’s something called a ’common lizard.’ Typical British name. There’s lots of them, so we call them a common lizard. Or maybe they normally hang around on commons. Either way it’s an uninspiring and unimaginative name.

This has reminded me why I used to spend all my spare time sitting indoors eating junk food. Anytime I venture outside, I seem to attract a bevy of vicious insects or invertebrates that would normally leave people alone. I must have some kind of ultraviolet target on me that only creatures armed with stings or poison can see.
I’d like to say I impressed Philippa with my bravery in the face of nature’s vicious onslaught, but in reality I’d say at least three hundred people heard me scream like a girl and start jumping around like a fox on broken glass.
David Attenborough I ain’t.

RC 4-7-10

Red mist

My meeting with Dr Kozhliak didn’t go well yesterday. I may tell you more about it at a later date when I’ve calmed down a little bit, but in the meantime do please contact me if you can recommend a decent GP in Norfolk..
I went to discuss it with Ted when I got home but he was too busy moaning about Andy Murray to listen. “Never put your faith in a Scot” he said. Dr Kozhliak is Polish, so I assume Ted was talking about the tennis.
I may stop watching sport with Ted. He gets so angry. After last nights football he said that Uruguay should be shot for crimes against sport. The whole country, by the way, not just the football team. He also said that if he was Ghanaian he would hunt down the guy who missed their penalty and ‘string him up by his own perineum.’ I’m not sure where he gets these ideas from, but I’m sure glad he’s not Ghanaian.

Tomorrow should be a fun day.
Some of us from work had agreed to meet up for a Wimbledon party if Andy Murray reached the final. He didn’t, so we’ve had a re-think. Well, Philippa had a re-think and then called everyone. Eight of us are heading to the beach with a cooler full of beer and a BBQ.
I was going to invite Hannah and Nathan, but I was worried he might be tempted to walk on the sea.

RC 3-7-10

newmonthhaiku

The first of July
Summer is here in full force
and I am happy

Sometimes it’s hard to
judge if your haiku words will
fit within it’s rules

Philippa is nice
People will say we’re in love
If I don’t quit soon

RC 1-7-10

Munters and Grunters

Now that the sideshow/circus of the World Cup isn’t dominating proceedings, I’ve started being distracted by the tennis. A year since the last Wimbledon Championships, and I had forgotten the joy that a ladies tennis match can bring…
They all go on about the traditions of Wimbledon, and I have to admit I’ve noticed a few things that are guaranteed to happen every year at SW19. I present for you Rory’s List Of Annual Wimbledon Occurences:

• Rafael Nadal always looks like he's just smelt the World's Smelliest Fart.
• Sue Barker always looks like the proud mum at a school concert
• Roger Federer always crys
• Australian fans always get on everyone’s nerves
• If John Isner and Nicholas Mahut get drawn together in the first round, they’ll still be playing in August
• Serena Williams increasingly takes on the appearance of a racehorse
• In an all-womens match between two East Europeans, I can never make it through the first set without disappearing into the bathroom.
• The BBC will continually ask whoever wins “Isn’t this the Greatest Tournament in the World? I mean - isn’t it?? It is, isn’t it?? It’s the best, coz it’s British, and we’re fab, aren’t we??? Aren’t we, Roger?”
• People who spend 50 weeks a year not even remotely interested in tennis will suddenly bemoan the fact that we don’t have any decent players.
• I’ll use the tournament as the basis for a blog entry, even though I spend 50 weeks a year not even remotely interested in tennis

RC 30-6-10