Wonderful news. A ned called me slick! Why am I overjoyed? Well Ive not been called that for at least 10 years and its a treat not to be called Franz Ferdinand.
The lad was obviously trying to impress his schoolgirl girlfriend, being manly by trying to make me angry. Thank you son, I hope your career in nedism is fruitful for you in your ned world..
Ive been able to go to the toilet unaided for about, hmmm 25/26 years now and my toilet ritual consists of waste expulsion, toilet paper, flushing, then hand washing.
It is a very simple process and requires the minimum of effort. But NO! modern humans (particularly men) cant grasp this process and there is never a day that goes by that one encounters someone who either: does not flush or wash hands after a visit to the WC.
My main gripe is the non flushing brigade. I don’t like plops, nor do I want to see or pee over someone else’s plop that can sometimes resemble twiglets floating in toilet water. The only way to educate people in my opinion is to introduce a Toilet Flushing Fine.
The procedure could be executed by installing some kind of sensor in a toilet cubicle that can detect if a person has flushed. (I am not an inventor so I cant go into technical details - but that’s the main idea) So, if a person has decided to create an art installation in the toilet water without flushing, a small alarm would go off which would show up on a toilet concierge’s control panel.
The concierge finds the toilet artist and takes down his/her particulars, sends them to the police who then fine the offender under the Toilet Offence Act. (Probably £200)
If anyone can add to, or polish this turd of an idea please drop me a line.
Ive been blogging here for almost a year now. When I first started a marginal walker it was just going to be a blog of random musings ( it still is, or I hope it is! ) As regular readers are aware I have blogged a lot about my late mother and her breast cancer battle.
The archives of the blog in relation to what mum, my family and her friends went through are all there to be read. It is frank, sometimes raw and deeply personal. It had to be. I want those archives to serve as a warning, a possible window into the future for women out there who are afraid to go to the Doctor if they have found any lumps or changes in their breasts. Delay the issue and you die like my mum.
If those blog postings from Nov 2005 - Feb 2006 can somehow make a difference for a worried woman and influence her to go to get a check up, then the sharing of my pain and grief throughout the whole process would have been worthwhile if it ended up saving someone’s life.
Last night, I was in conversation with someone who came across my blog a few weeks ago. She had read all the posts of this blog. Somehow though, she believed that I am a very unhappy person after reading my blog and she found that unsettling.
( I originally included some swear words here, but I have edited them out.. )
Apologies, but anyone who has lost a loved one due to a horrific illness such as metastatic breast cancer can not be happy every day during and after the whole process. Her comments have angered me so much that I am posting them on this blog.
My blog, and everyone’s else’s blog only captures a small part of a person’s life. Personally I lead a good comfortable life with a lot of laughter these days which has been such a fantastic comfort during days when I have felt unhappy. There is so much yet to do, such as musical ambition which can often trouble me due to either slight procrastination or lack of will.
I only post on what I feel is relevant at the time. If its a happy post then so be it. If it is a melancholic toned posting then again, so be it.
On closing I really hope that this girl never wakes up and discovers breast lumps, or has any close family members in the future with any form of terrible illness that is too far gone for treatment. If it does happen, you certainly wont be smiling or feeling positive everyday. In fact, during that time you might get told by some fool that you are a very unhappy person.
That would be rather unsettling wouldnt it?
Ive kind of dreaded this weekend but at the same time I’m glad it has finally arrived. I have approached the anniversary of the start of the end of my old life. A year ago the love of my life ended things with me quite suddenly. Relationships end all the time these days, but it was swift and it was a shock to the system.
Our time together was mostly happy and passionate. It took a long time to get over. Its human nature to look back at times past, analysing what one did, where did one go wrong, what could/ SHOULD have I done? Oh boy the things I should have done and maybe that girl would still be with me today. Well.. on second thoughts most likely she wouldnt be as everything has changed..
But then, analysis of failed relationships are fruitless. It doesn’t bring the love back, it doesn’t bring that person back. There is a reason for everything. I had to be with her as she did with me, but time passes and people change.
Who I was then is not who Stephen is now. Physically I am the same man, but personality wise I am almost completely different and personally I feel all the better for the evolution of Stephen Sherry. The Stephen of today would not have been attracted to the girl I was with. The girl who I was with would not be attracted to the man I am today.
I have no regrets apart from one which has destroyed us being good friends in this present. Break ups are messy for the majority, and I made a few comments to her that were pretty dreadful. I hold my hand up.
It always annoys me these days whenever I hear people moaning how they cant live without their former boyfriend/girlfriend. Its all a mind trick. Love is a mental illness ( call me bitter.. ) In my opinion if you cant live without another person then your life must be a big empty pit.
Very soon there will be another anniversary to deal with. Shortly after my relationship ended, my mother told me something that destroyed my old life and this blog has well documented all of that..
A bit of background knowledge to this evening’s post. I wont go into the finer details though.
When your family live in a street for 20 years and get to know the neighbours and be friends, watching people die, move on, being born, watching them grow up, then all of a sudden due to a stupid, pointless argument the friendships go tits up. The friendships formed die. All that is left is walls of silence.
There are two sides to one story, and it all started with that stupid pointless argument between my late mother and neighbour. I wasn’t witness to it, so I cant really comment about it, nor will take sides. However, if someone doesn’t want to talk to me any more in the street, then I don’t like confrontation. If they say hi, I shall say hi back. If not, then I wont. If that is the best approach time will tell.
Anyway. This evening it all came to a head to an initially heated confrontation between myself and said neighbour. She made me think though about who I am. She said to me that my parents would always harp on how clever, gifted I am ( all parents do this about their children )
‘ All the talent and brains you have, and you are working in a call centre.. ‘ ( I don’t work in a call centre, although I used to for a while )
That comment was a dig but there was no point rising to it. But she did hit it home that I have not fulfilled my ambitions. I sit at this PC at my home, I have blogged on about music and how I am a musician and I have this talent. Okay Stephen, we need proof.
Wait a minute. Musician? Where is my music? I haven’t made any new tracks ( well finished any ) for a while. I have never performed live, I turn down all collaborations because I am a pig headed perfectionist with sound. Its not procrastination. It is complete fear.
I am afraid to finish things in case it is not the spectacular sound I thought it was. A fear of people telling me ‘ its okay Stephen ‘
It cant be just ‘ okay ‘ It has to be brilliant, it has to stand out. It has to get me noticed.
Fear of failure is holding me back, it is making me sit in the main event studio with all my musical machines creating a musical vision that only I want to hear and enjoy.
My neighbour problem after a few years resolved itself tonight and everything is okay now. But I am disturbed that I am failing. Did my parents hopes and dreams for me indulge me to assume that everything I am good at must be brilliant and okay is not a good?
My motto is failure is not an option. But I am failing. Who I am right now, is not me. My neighbour is right and I salute her for telling me this.
Out of a sticky situation comes something good. She made me finally realise what I have to do.
