I've been told twice in two days that I should be writing on here again and I agree. I miss this stupid blog and the opportunity to vent when I'm not being paid to do so and don't have to take things seriously and, you know, pretend I can spell. Coming back is always hard, though. It's like trying to end a fight with someone: once the first couple of words are out and you've had a post-fight conversation it's ok but being the one to apologise or break the cold shoulder thing you've got going on is a real bitch.
So, to jump back in via the wussiest of means, I thought I'd make a list of a few of the things I've learned since the last time I posted. Bear in my mind reader(s) that I am a moron and thus much of what appears below is stuff you've known since you were old enough to see your face in the bathroom mirror without the aid of a stool.
Realisation One: Never start a sentence "All I'm saying is…" when you're having an argument. This phrase doesn't end fights - it starts them. All I'm saying is that if you don't believe me, you're a dick.
Realisation Two: It's okay to half-arse it at work sometimes. Wait, allow me to clarify: should anyone from work be reading this then, obviously, it goes without saying that this half-arse stuff isn't something I would do PERSONALLY. I am, of course, speaking hypothetically. But, really, the odd bout of not earning your wage can be a wonderful thing.
Realisation Three: You shouldn't keep a sharpened axe in the fireplace. Sure, it was there when you moved in but now it just looks creepy.
Realisation Four:There's nothing wrong with popping a (metaphorical) pan on the (metaphorical) back-burner with a low flame, just in case. You'd go fucking MAD if you didn't.
Realisation Five: Despite some apparent concerns (if concern is the right word, which I don't think it is) from a family member during my teenage years, I must be the straightest girl in the world, based on the amount of time I fritter away thinking about boys. Boys, boys, boys. Yeah, they're not bad.
Realisation Six: It's possible to change your mind about very fundamental things. I mean, five years ago I would never have conceded that Mark Ruffalo is a stone cold fox. And yet...
Realisation Seven: Seriously, the axe? It's got to go.
2 comments:
"Reading: All the Fletch Novels."
I have wanted to get into Fletch, since I exhausted all Eric Ambler's, and I even scoured the local libraries. Found a couple of examples only, one of which was not bad, (He was in Brazil) the other (a late one) sort of OK.
Should I persist? Which is the best?
Some of them are brilliant. Others... not so much. Definitely start with the first novel (just called "Fletch), even if you know the plot pretty well from the awesome film. I also very much fancy "Confess Fletch", which won an award of... some kind. If you like those two it's definitely worth persisting with others but if they're not your cup of tea you're probably never going to be a fan...
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