Thursday, December 22, 2005

Blowing in the wind (part two)

By 9.30 discipline had taken over, as well as sheer boredom, and I did my little trip to the shops, though only the supermarket was left open by then. Inspired by yesterday's blogger, in the approximate 15 minute combined walk there and back I saw:

A shrine to a murdered man who was only 27, and had been shot several times in the little road opposite the shops. This is the second murder since I moved back, and the other one was only off the end of the same road. The first was a knife gang and now it seems sadly London's suburbs are becoming like New York used to be when it was safe here.

I also saw a van from Romania, far rarer than our massive influx of Polish and Lithuanian workers who not only drive here but the Polish cars are virtually all less than 5 years old (as the number plates changed in 2001).

I had more phone calls today than for years, well over 10 and mostly incoming, which also slowed down all the other jobs drastically (except the ones I made which were jobs!). I left the mobile by the toilet after lunch by mistake, and 7 hours later found 3 missed calls on that as well, though a couple got me on the home line later on. Sadly among all those calls, as per bloody usual, none were the 'oh wow, she likes me' sort of calls, ie the ones where I either leave messages and they don't call me back, or I give my number to and they never call. The number of total let downs and disappointments on that front has also been far higher than usual this year, and in fact a total clean sweep. From the paranormal enthusiast who was friends then cut me dead to someone who rang when she needed me and then did the same, one who needed a place to stay and dropped me when I couldn't provide it, and any more I may have overlooked who did the same sort of thing. And the beautiful blonde who couldn't even bother to call after her original wild enthusiasm on the dating site.
Then I called Clive Bull on LBC as it was his last show before the new year, and told him about all my website improvements. So if anyone's reading this having heard my call, please leave a message! The last time I read my webcam link out on LBC I had a few hundred viewers in an hour. That was impressive. I've just had a look and I think about 200 must have looked at my main site, though weirdly this blog hasn't had one new hit since 8pm. Unless I forgot the count on the other one and I actually had 3, which is very possible as I hadn't planned to call and checked it in advance officially.

So, I have done far more of my official business later in the day (as I usually do)- I've added in most of the tiny people and cars in my painting, and looking at all the tricky areas I actually seem to have covered them all, at least roughly, so may be near the end at last. I won't have much time for all this tomorrow so have made the most of a free day, even though until I went to the shop at 9.30 I hadn't spoken to a single human being directly. The phone's OK, but it's only really a narrow spectrum of being with a person face to face. I think I have been driven to do far more from both my isolation and recent health problems, as at least I was determined to do as much as I could and tried a bit harder as a result. Though I've not done one of my usual things I add up this year- football matches, new girlfriends and trips away etc., they (besides the woman situation...) had all become pretty passe- after 45 years of travelling, going to events and the like I have had quite enough and when you do something just to add it to a list rather than you enjoy doing it it's time to shift. So this year the paintings, writing and TV work have been way more important than seeing a few more obscure football teams and a couple of retired England players. Been there, done that, moved up a level.

So really despite the apparent desert of usual happenings, I've been taken on a completely parallel route this year, and had the stress element been removed would have been a pretty good year minus the dire women situation. I sometimes feel a spell has been cast to make me appear disgusting as soon as I find a woman attractive, as in the story of an Indian prince, who was being saved for higher things. Well without a woman this prince is totally bloody useless, so if the higher powers are listening 'Oi you, No!!! Stop bloody interfering!'. They have been told.

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