No, not a song lyric this week but clrly a quote from a member of the blook writing team of some time back. And yes, there’s a reason for it being there. In fact there’s several.
I came across it when sorting out some stuff in the room formerly known as the back bedroom and soon to be the office. All it requires is some furniture shifting – big desk, big captain’s rest chair and big bookcase to go upstairs, Kenny where are you? – and Son Brian awaits the panic call about this router thing, and we’re sorted. Except there’s piles of stuff that won’t get sorted. They’ll stay piles.
Altho’ already I’ve found things that make me smile and cry, and I may yet get that tattoo. I think I’ve washed away the other three from sandblasting days. And my house is a tip.
No, it’s a week when it would have been nice to have had alcohol when things went, y’know, not quite right, but not in that ‘relapse, can’t cope kinda way’ that some College management thought. And the quote at the top sums up the real support I got, and still get, from so many people. So far, so good.
Here’s an example; Partick Thistle, the team I’ve supported for so many years 😉 got gubbed last Saturday 😦 . At home. And one of my mates leant over and said; ‘jt, if you want to relapse today, we won’t tell anyone.’ I didn’t. 🙂
Or as I surveyed the tip that is my house (did I say?) last Monday night, I really felt like a glass of something strong, ‘cos I felt I’d just given up on the house at that stage, and tomato juice in fine crystal works but only ‘cos you’ve something in your hand worth holding on to. (There is no innuendo in that at all. Albeit unwittingly. Okay?)
And my television has died. And the one that I’ve tealeafed from my sister’s Glasgow flat is stuck on BBC 1. Don’t ask.
At which point can I say thanks to Missie K and the blogmeister for updating me on some stuff which really cheered me up but blogmeister, that is really wimpish drinking for a journo, even an online one. Is caledonianmercury.com the way ahead? I’m a fan/friend. Already.
But L frae Troon, can you apologise to your mates? Entering the pub last night, I genuinely was writing a note to myself about a mobile call I’d taken outside; I was not writing their names down. Honest. Not unless they’re called ‘BBC Manuscript’. What the Hell does that mean, anyway?
And one of the joys about places like Sloan’s when you’re in for a few is watching the various bar people make up my virgin, Marys. One guy last night thought he was Tom Cruise. But I said, ‘I’m not interested in scientology.’
And the interviews have started for the radio documentary, but I’ll say little about them, ‘cos I’m doing it as a pro journo, but it’s bringing back memories for other people. Sometimes I feel intrusive. Then I realise I never done News Ethics at Uny and it passes.
There’s nothing like the feeling of disgust in yourself when you say to a grieving mum, ‘And is this your son? Nice photo. Can I borrow it? I’ll be careful.’ Discuss using one side of a sheet of paper only. No. You go for a drink after that one. Believe me.
BLOGGER TAKES BREAK BUT NO TEARS THIS TIME
And then there’s the joys of freelance PR. If the rainforestriverman tells the world that the cornershop is doing well, from Glasgow, then at least I get fed in a posh hotel. When he does it from down South, I still have to get up early to media monitor, but at least I can do it from my kitchen (which is a tip), totally naked* and with a cup of coffee.
*Pretty damn good, since you ask and as good as any Italian anybody might meet over the next few weeks, but not the kinda photy I would put on any online dating sight (which I won’t, ‘cos I’m taking a raincheck on that idea until the doc is done) but wouldn’t it be interesting if you were shown a photy of somebody you knew? Which I was. I have personal ethics.
And, yes, I am a fan of Glee. but it’s not just bandwagon jumping. Did anyone else notice the prostate gag (by students) in the first episode?
nO. nO REASON. (Caps lock is a tip at the moment)
And my thanks to those nice people from The Comedy Unit who sent me a cheque for £7.20. I must have had some material repeated somewhere in the world. I almost had a glass from the half full bottle of wine in the fridge. The fridge is a tip.
But I’m disappointed that the screenwriting class at S/clyde has been cancelled for the forthcoming semester but I’ve found other ‘like minded folk’ at the CCA, but I think they’re really serious. I’ll be in touch, ‘tho’….just in case.
But you ask (well maybe not you or you or you but you) what about special occasions? Why don’t I have a drink then?Well, it’s the occasion that makes it special, why is why I’d like to say;
HAPPY TWENTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY
to Lady Eleanor
who I’ve known for, let me think, for all of, about, twenty one years. (Yes. I do have the obligatory embarrassing pic from way back), but can I also say a big thanks to bestest friend Caitlin and other members of their family and friends, not all of whom were there (yr Gran has interesting secrets, C) and who always make me feel welcome, and a wee while back made me feel as if I’d never been away.
I really liked the fruitbread soaked overnight in whisky.
I raise a glass. Or I would if I could find a clean one. Did I say? The house is a tip.
cya and still keep(ing) it fun
Johnt850
Oh, and a serious word. My attitude towards my alkoholism and my cancer is not meant to cause offence but I do know I approach it from a different way from many and from the way I am expected to do. I don’t do stereotypes and never have done. (F**k! I’ve just spilled coffee on the keyboard. Hang on a second or two. No. It’s fine)
But if there’s one, say, twenty year old that grows up realising that not all alkies are ‘scum’ or that cancer is not necessarily a killer, then I’m happy. It’s not the prejudice that annoys me; it’s the assuming without asking that gives me the thirst. It’s the lack of memories that makes me desist. Excuse me while I go clean out the drinks cabinet. It’s a tip.