Day 46 (30 June 2011) - Look for the bare necessities...

...the simple bare necessities.'
Now before I begin, I need to make an announcement:
'THIS POST CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF A GRAPHIC NATURE.  ANYONE OF A NERVOUS DISPOSITION SHOULD LOOK AWAY NOW'

This week, I've been on my holibobs. But due to potential flat-buying situation - and the cost of all this travel you've recommended - I'm having a stay-cation (get me with the lingo!)  So, the plan was to have some lovely, cheap days out with a bit of Carpe Diem thrown in, to keep my 'challengeing year' going.

With Sunday being such a scorcher and Monday promising to be even hotter, I decided to pack my bucket and spade and head to Brighton.  The last time I went was c.12 years ago when Iain lived down there.  That night turned out to be a spectacularly unsuccessful pulling night, when early in the evening, I bit a huge chunk out of my tongue and spent the rest of the evening with loo paper round my mouth trying to stem the flow of blood. 

Brighton is a charming place.  The Lanes (a section of small, mazy...erm...lanes) is full of charming, independent shops and cafes.  The people seem ridiculously chilled-out and happy and it's become super-trendy, often now referred to as London-on-Sea.  So, off I popped on Monday morning, armed with a couple of paperbacks and my Ipod ready for a relaxing day. 

I had an awesome day, mooching around, drinking coffee, trying not to buy all sorts of interesting stuff (was very disciplined) and chilling out on the beach. 

You may remember that the inspiration for this year was the Baz Luhrmann song 'Everybody's free to wear Sunscreen'  You do?  Good!  I should add at this point that I slapped the Factor 30 on all day.  In my opening post I mentioned the fact that, like a true Brit, I'm incredibly body conscious.  Yes, my face and hands resemble both Des O'Connor and a leather handbag, but my body is practically vampirish, having not seen the sun since 1962.  In short, I've never been at all comfortable with getting my flabby bits out in public.

I tend to try to keep myself fit, but a combination of bad food choices; bad drink choices and a lack of portion control have taken their toll over the years.  However, I've been making conscious efforts to try to resolve this - well, certainly on the food front, if not the alcohol.  As a result, on Monday morning, for the first time in ten years, I got on the scales and was greeted with a sub-10 stone clocking.  Granted, I had just been on the treadmill for an hour, so was ridiculously dehydrated and hadn't eaten that morning, but hey, the scales don't lie.  Truth be told, I felt pretty pleased.

I was still feeling pleased lying on the beach in my duffle coat and balaclava, trying not to pass out from heat exhaustion, when I started thinking about this blog and my aim to push my boundaries and become more spontaneous.  This was an opportunity for a challenge, to get my body out on the beach...

...all of it. 

Brighton very famously has a nudist beach.  I've barely ever taken my shirt off, let alone exposed the Fordham heirlooms to the world.  Iain and I were chatting about this in Barcelona earlier this year when we inadvertently stumbled across their nudist beach.  We were terribly British about it, becoming quite flustered when we realised we were surrounded by nakedness, uncertain of quite where to look (I soon worked out exactly where to look!  Ahem).  When Iain asked if I'd ever got my kit off in public, he may well have asked me whether I'd ever married a goat; such was the look of horror and bewilderment that crossed my face.  But, this was my moment to conquer another fear.  Would I have balls (?!) to do so.

It would help, of course, if the nudist beach wasn't in Cornwall.  It certainly felt that way as I walked the 811 miles to find it.  When I did so, I was expecting a large fenced-off area with the only thing visible being several volleyball nets (what is it about nudists and volleyball?).  Instead, I only realised I'd found it when the average age of the clientele on the beach suddenly up and the number of brightly coloured items of clothing fell through the floor.  With growing trepidation (and no, that's not a euphemism) I selected a spot near the water (for emergency evacuation, you understand) and began to disrobe.  Seconds later there I was in broad daylight, surrounded by lots of people, as naked as the day I was born.  And nobody batted an eyelid.  To be honest I wasn't exactly expecting Len Goodman and the rest of the Strictly judges to pop up to give me marks out of ten, but it was all so boringly bland that it made me realise once again how so many hang ups that we allow to drive us, our only in our heads and, ultimately, totally in our control.

Now, I should warn anyone thinking of trying this, that you should only do so in controlled naturist environments.  Abandoning your clothing in the middle of the Bentalls Shopping Centre frankly isn't on. 

...I should also advise you that if you ever go naked on a beach, to ensure you apply sun cream to all areas.  To my cost, I realised later that day that I'd missed a rather large patch on my left buttock, which three days on is still giving me some issues.

Would I do it again?  Who knows?  I didn't really get the sense of freedom and 'at one-ness' with nature' that people bang on about and, I'd imagine, on a sandy beach (for Brighton's is pebbly) you'd be picking grains out of all sorts of places for days, but right now I'm not ruling anything out.

Until next time...

Day 42 (26 June 2011) - Confidence is a preference of the habitual voyeur

...of what is known as 'parklife'...apparently.  Always loved bouncing around to that song at univeristy, but never had a ruddy clue what 'parklife' was. 

Anyway, greetings.  I'm aware it's been one whole week since the last post - the longest gap between posts yet.  Does this mean that enthusiasm is fading?  Am I slipping back into my old comfortable, but quite apathetic ways? 

NO it Bo Diddly doesn't.  For I have been beavering away like one of those beaver-type things working, socialising and generally keeping busier that a particularly buzzy bee who's just been told that the honey quota is way down.

When I started this blog, I said that the purpose of asking my nearest and dearest to set me tasks was to ensure I made the most of the endless world of opportunity that lay in front of me.  That much was certainly true, but if I'm honest - and we're 42 days in now, so we're practically family - it was as much about feeling totally lost and bereft of much in the way of self-confidence as it was about the opportunities.  Guess they're two sides of the same coin.  The start of this journey (Simon Cowell would be so proud) wasn't the happiest time of my life, so having things to aim for was a way of ensuring I didn't allow myself to spiral down into a world of 'poor me'...and I knew I could count on you to help avoid that.  And what a job you've done!  In addition to my many exciting challenges, I've never been so popular - I think I've had the two nights in over the last month!  My liver isn't exactly overjoyed with this turn of events and, granted, I do now look 87, however I am having sooooo much fun.  Now whether it's seeing so many of my amezzin friends, the improved weather or simply planetary alignment who knows, but at the moment I feel on top of the world.  Confident?  I'm bordering on cocky.  It's amazing how things can turn round so quickly, but right now life is marvellous...in fact (and I feel terribly guilty saying this) but I can't remember feeling this happy for ages.  You did that you very special bunch of people (I hate to single out people, but special shout outs to the Sisters Nott, Mr Heywood, Mr Barron, Ms Ewart and Mr Way who have been more helpful than you will ever know).   Ohh, it's turned into an Oscar speech.  Marvellous!

All of this is, of course, by way of another excuse for lack of progress on challenges.  I've wheeled out a good few over the past 42 days, but being able to say that I've just been out having too much fun and living life to the full is one I'm particularly proud of.  However, I have a week off work this week, so progress will be forthcoming...promise...and if it isn't, please berate me accordingly.

Day 35 (19 June 2011) - 'Flash a-ha...

...he'll save everyone of us'
'GORDON'S ALIVE?' 
Yes, following some really rather heavy, deep and downright tedious posts (I've clearly watched way too much Jerry Springer in my life), I thought I'd take time out of the challenge theme and present the first in what might be a series, if I can be bothered, of homages to some of my favourite celebs.

Those who know me well will know that I'm a very keen celeb spotter - one of the many advantages of living in London is the sheer plethora of celebs ranging from A-list all the way down to Richard Blackwood.  And I'm pretty darn good at it too - not quite in the Katie Walker league, but none too shabby.  Whilst it's always very exciting indeed to see a top-notch celeb, of the Hollywood variety, I find it equally, nay, more exciting to see spot some more home-spun, less affected celebs.  I remember Jam calling me once from the Ivy to say he was sitting near Hugh Grant (bothered), Gail from Coronation Street (v excited about this one...did you know that in real life she doens't have any children?!) and Su Pollard!  Su Bloody Pollard - now that's my sort of celebrity. 

So, today's post is a very brief homage to the great actor of stage and screen, Mr Brian Blessed.  I say, great actor of stage and screen, however besides the might Flash Gordon, does anyone know of anything Brian Blessed has been in?  Not that it matters of course, for his performance in Flash Gordon, as the bizarrely winged 'Prince Vultan'.  Look here he is:



But of course, he's most famous for his big booming voice, which he now utilises to great effect in various voiceovers, but which he employed in Flash Gordon most splendidly, and most notably in the unforgettable line 'DIIIIIIIIIIIIVE' when he was ordering his hawkmen to attack.  If you've never heard it, it is a joy to behold, so I thoroughly recommend a spot of You Tubing to hear it for yourself. Actually, no, in the spirit of cooperation, let me provide you with the link here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yxaVxF1D0XM

Brian Blessed in Flash Gordon is one of those limited number of impressions that all men hold in their repertoire (along with Bruce Forsyth and Sean Connery).  Personally, I often randomly and in quite inappropriate places, find myself uttering the word 'DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE' just for the japes.  Such an occasion occurred on Thursday.  I can think of no trigger which led to this, just the sudden urge, whilst sitting at my desk reading a tedious contract, to throw in a quick Brian Blessed impression.  So enjoyable was it, that I took the decision to declare Friday 'International Talk Like Brian Blessed Day', something I announced on both facebook and twitter. And what a day we had in the Macmillan office.  My wonderful team embraced this celebration from the off and big booming requests for coffee and tea could be heard resounding round the office.  One member of my team now appears to be stuck permanently and can't seem to be able to speak normally anymore.  All in all it was a marvellous day, although we learnt that there are many situations, particularly sensitive ones, where speaking in a Brian Blessed voice is less than appropriate - bu hey, every day's a learning day.

And if you can't get enough of Big Brian's Big Boom, you can now get a Tom Tom satnav featuring The Blessed's voice - how cool is that 'TURN LEFT IMPETUOUS BOY'

Brian Blessed, star of Flash Gordon and...erm....erm...probably lots of other things, we salute you.

Day 34 (18 June 2011) - 'I'm going Deeper Underground'

...'there's too much panic in this town'
Yes, on Day 34, I've decided to become a Tube Driver.  The short hours, lots of holiday, regular strikes, what's not to like?  Only kidding; but whilst I'm not really going underground, I have spent much of this week going 'Deep' - behave at the back (I'm doing that Frankie Howerd thing again, aren't I?). 

As those who know me well will know, I'm prone to biiiiig bouts of introspection and procrastination.  These tend to involve long periods of silence (which, in my case normally equates to about 7 minutes), much brow furrowing (and you thought I was passing wind) and some sort of proclamation at the end that something is a little bit rubbish.  Fortunately, I'm surrounded my people who usually respond with comments such as 'grow a set', 'so do something about it', or 'yes and that's life - think on!'  This week I got to indulge myself even further as my wonderful, amazing boss (that's not supposed to sound sarcastic, he really is a truly amazing bloke), sent me on a two day 'Personal Mastery' course. 

I had no idea what this course was going to be about, but figured it was two days out of the office - much needed at the moment - and there was bound to be some cake involved somewhere along the way.  However, it turned out to be two days totally attuned to my quest to discover more drive, to achieve more and generally find some sense of purpose.  Some of this was mentioned in my last post , notably the stuff around 'Choice'.  For those who weren't paying attention, here's a breif summary:  whilst you can't always control what life throws at you, it is your decision how you respond to each situation.  There's nothing wrong with being 'humf-y', throwing your toys out of the pram or generally saying 'this is shit'...however if you choose to adopt any of these positions, you have made a conscious choice to do so.  This sounds pretty basic stuff and, indeed, when I've excitedly shared this with friends this week, they've looked at me like I'm bonkers as though I've just told them that 2+2 = 4 or that day follows night, but I'd really looked at life that way and doing so it amazingly empowering. 

Much of the course focused on three questions:

1. Who am I?
2. Why am I?
3. What will I spend my life on?

I've never known the answer to this last question - and still don't - but I learned, this week, that I can't begin to answer that question until I've worked out the answers to the first two.  Ooooh, all very deep, isn't it?  To help me answer the first one - Who Am I? (although I still think I wasn't far off in my earlier estimate of being a cross between Ronnie Corbett & Thora Hird) - I've been set ten questions to answer.  Sadly, they're a bit harder than the ones in my local pub quiz and there's none on 1990s pop music, but hey ho.  Here they are:

• What are my underlying personality traits.  What are the strengths and limitations of these?
• What are my natural (not learned) talents and strengths?
• What beliefs to I hold about myself which limit me.  Which ones empower me?
• What can I change about myself.  What do I need to accept?
• What am I passionate about.  What do I value above all?
• How have I allowed my origins, my environment, my relationships and my experiences to shape my beliefs of who I am?
• How easily do I recognise my 'response-ability' i.e. my choice to respond to situations.  How often do I consciously use this?
• What opportunities do I have to shape a different future if I used my 'choice-muscle' more readily?
• What drives me, fundamentally?
• What beliefs about human origin and destiny satisfy me?

I'm currently sitting in the lotus position, on a rock in the Himalayas pondering these...well, I'm not, but feel I ought to.  To some of you, these may sound like a crock of ol' shite, however what suprised me during the course was how readily and easily some of my colleagues could answer many of these and yet how difficult I found them.  Fortunately, I wasn't alone (there were three of us occupying what we called the naughty corner, all equally baffled by these), however what's clear to me is that without being able to answer most of these, I'm never going to find that sense of purpose I think I'm looking for and will thus continue to drift along - although it hasn't served me too badly thus far.  The other very interesting learning that came out of this was that people who don't know 'who they are' often end up being defined by other aspects of their life - usually their work or their partners - and thus find it harder to adjust to changes in either of these than those people who clearly know who they are and who, as a result, are more likely to instigate changes in their lives. 

Still with me?  Wouldn't blame if you weren't as it's all very serious for a blog.  However, the point is that I listened to all of this and there was a sudden 'BINGO' moment.  I sat there thinking 'but this is my life you're describing', 'this is what's happened to me' and I realised that by setting challenges and tasks, I'm trying to find out who I am.  In addition, my asking friends and colleagues to set them for me, it wasn't me being lazy (although I'm sure there's a bit of that in there somewhere) it was actually an unconscious realisation that I don't really know who I am and without a significant other to guide me along I'm a bit lost.  But that's OK, cos so are millions of other people - and if you're one of those, why not try answering the ten questions above for yourself.  If you find this easy, good for you, you well-rounded, centred person; if you can't, well, it's time to do so - sooo much fun awaits.

What have I done about all of this?  Aside, from a lot of lists, some mind-maps (get me, eh) and a lot of positive thinking, I've reached the following conclusions:

1. I'm a bit lost
2. As a result of Number 1, I am susceptible to allowing external forces (work, significant others) to define who I am
3. ...which is why I find being single so darned hard cos removing those external forces takes me back to Number 1
4. I now have a clear set of questions which I'm going to spend the next twelve months answering
5. Your challenges and tasks will enable me to do this - thank you
6. I'm going to have lots and lots of fun
7. I shall come out of this with a clearer sense of identity
8. ...a renewed sense of purpose
9. ...and some clear directions for the rest of my days
10. if, along the way, someone wants to accompany me on this journey, that's fine too; but is no longer essential.

Here endeth the lecture.  Don't forget to do your homework. 

If this was all a little too deep for you, have no fear, I can exclusively reveal that the next post will include an homage to Brian Blessed.

Day 30 (14 June 2011) - 'Golden oldies, rolling stones...'

...we don't want them back.  I'd rather jack, than Fleetwood Mac'
...although quite who Jack is or how he feels about the Reynolds Girls being after him, is anyone's guess.

Well, I knew that quoting the Morrissette on a blog was dangerous, but I didn't expect anyone to read it, let alone to contact me to check I was OK!   Apologies for all the melodrama - everything is genuinely dandy and on the up, regardless of how yesterday's post may have seemed.  Yes, things have been a wee bit rubbish in recent days and I could feel myself going round in circles unable to quite shake off the negative feelings, so I thought a bit of outward expression would help - and it did.  I thought long and hard yesterday about posting when I was feeling so damned angry, but I want this blog to have some element of authenticity and an honesty - and I want to be able to look back in years to come and see how far I've come and how much I've achieved. 

The good news is the e-exorcism worked.  For today I woke up today with a renewed vigour to crack on with my challenges and to tackle life generally.  Today people, I feel like a giant (any height-related jokes quite unnecessary, thank you!).  This has been somewhat helped by the fact I've spent today on a 'Personal Mastery' course which my boss booked me on at the last-minute.  As with all training courses, I thought 'oh well, at least it will be a free lunch', but this has genuinely been an inspirational day with much of the learning focused around the simple fact that we all have choices in everything we do.  No matter who throws what at you, it is your choice how you choose to respond to that situation.  Yesterday I chose to respond to my growing anger by dumping it here - view it as a physical transaction of transferring the negativity from my little ol' head to cyberspace; today I'm choosing to fill the space vacated by Senor Anger with lots of loveliness, including getting back on the task horse.  I can't promise there won't be future posts which are not exactly Disney-esque, but I think they'll be few and far between - so no need to start quoting The Cure, Coldplay, James Blunt (is there ever an excuse for quoting James Blunt) - or Fleetwood Mac.

So what loveliness is going on in my noggin?  Well, the search for a flat has recommenced and a second viewing on 'the possible' has been booked.  I'm desperately trying to get out of working over the next few weekends so I can visit the fab Casleys in Bristol and I've been searching for cheap flights to Lisbon with a view to a visit in September (G - let me know if this works for you).  I finally have a contact for the race organisers of the Jordan multi-marathon thing and have had a practice at a dog and a giraffe with the modelling balloons (limited success thus far, but I have burnt a signifcant quantity of calories trying to blow the darn balloons up and then chasing them around the flat when they fly off in various directions.  Let's hope Florence is easily pleased).  I also managed to enjoy a long sing-a-long soak in the bath without once feeling the need to play some Adele!  Blog-ettes, I am back in the race...

...and by way of making up for any moroseness (morosity??) in previous posts, I shall share some of my favourite Les Dawson lines with you.  Night night.

'I can always tell when the mother in law's coming to stay; the mice throw themselves on the traps.'

'I went to my doctor and asked for something for persistent wind. He gave me a kite'.

'I took my mother-in-law to Madame Tussard's Chamber of Horrors, and one of the attendants said, 'Keep her moving sir, we're stock-taking'

“I saw six men kicking and punching the mother-in-law. My neighbour said 'Are you going to help?' I said 'No, Six should be enough.”

Day 29 (13 June 2011) - 'I'm here to remind you...

...of the mess you left when you went away'
Two golden rules of blogging:

1. Never quote Alanis Morrissette
2. Never blog when drunk
...but hey, I'm feeling rebellious, so what the hell!

However, before I begin, I should state that I, Craig Jonathan Fordham, am of sound mind and body, so before you imagine me lying in a pool of my own vomit, weeping into a can of White Lightning, I should point out that the reality is very different.  I have had a lovely evening, watching Twenty20 cricket in the evening sunshine at the Oval, accompanied by my wonderful team.  We've laughed - a lot - and enjoyed some very exciting cricket and all in all it's been a great night...

...yet, like so many similarly lovely nights spent in recent times with so many wonderful people, it's all been played out against a backdrop of sheer, raw and base anger.  My various challenges have come to a halt and I'm struggling to maintain the motivation and sense of momentum I previously had.  Maybe this is just what happens at this stage of proceedings, however, I've realised that my mental and emotional state has changed significantly in recent days.  Whilst in 'normal' times my equilibrium has been a kind of warm and fluffy contentment, currently my 'standard' state is one of maddening infuriation.  I'm not proud of this; not in the slightest.  I like to regard myself as a bright  and rational person with a reasonably high degree of emotional intelligence.  I approach problems in a scientific way, regarding unusual thoughts and feelings as a experiment that should be monitored closely and probed in order to gain an understanding and a mastery, so that an appropriate response can be discovered.  But, at the moment, I feel as though this particular specimen is out of control, like some sort of ragwort, as my irritation grows to resentment...and that ain't healthy.  So, having tried the internalisation response and found it wanting, I'm going for the writing it down option, as this often helps. 

Before I go any further - and I should have got this out of the way at the very beginning - this post is purely for me; so feel free to look away, leave the virtual room or go elsewhere.  This is kinda my Brad Pitt, Fight Club moment! 

So, why so mad?  Well, as dignified and amicable as my recent split seemed to be, as the weeks have gone on, I've become less gracious, less pleasant and, to put it bluntly, more bitter.  Although I was dumped in the nicest way possible (and it really was considerately and carefully done), as a friend at work put it (and apologies for the coarse language): ' a turd is a turd.  You can wrap it up in a nice ribbon and put it in a beautiful box...but it's still a turd'!  Move over Keats, I say!!!  As everybody knows - cos, let's face it, we've all been there at some stage - getting dumped is rubbish.  You can dress it up in as many 'it's not you, it's me / I just need some space / we both deserve better etc' cliches as much as you like, but ultimately it's a rejection and whether you're Mrs Giggs or a simple fatty on the X-Factor who can't sing for toffee, rejection smarts.   And if rejection on its own isn't hurtful enough, finding out that you've been replaced is that little bit worse.  As much as the rational part of you knows that it's of absolutely no benefit comparing yourself to the 'new you' the human brain just doens't work like that and, try as you might, the temptation to play a kind of human Top Trumps between you and the newbie is just tooo great.  Before you know it you're replaying seemingly inocuous conversations, throwaway comments and gestures over and over again, like Hercule Poirot, trying to find some hidden meaning that would have enabled you to see 'it' (or rather, them) coming. You lie awake at three in the morning analysing the tone in which 'x' was said; playing certain scenes over and over again in your mind or finding hidden (made up?) meanings in actions uncertain whether 2+2 = 4 or 57.

Of course, none of this matters and understanding what went wrong, where you fell short or why the other person decided to paddle a different canoe, gets you nowhere and I absolutely know that.  The focus must be on the future and driving forward to new adventures and making new memories; although at the moment it seems I'm hell-bent on trying to replace the old ones, in a Stalinist-type purge that wipes any memory of 'them' from history - emails, texts, messages are being deleted, photos and mementos destroyed in sudden fits of pique, all of which I know I'll regret.   But the need to keep focusing on what's to come rather than what's been is why I asked you to set me these new challenges and quests to begin with - and I've so enjoyed planning and tackling them.  There's no sense of sadness,  of loss or of the sort of desperate romantic longing that packs out the local Odeon every night - I can confidently state, with a sense of absolute clarity, that I wouldn't go back, even if the chance arose.  But right now, it feels as though I've got a large ball and chain painted with the words 'rejection, betrayal and anger' tied to my leg, dragging me backwards and stopping me from making the most of the many wonderful opportunities which fate - and friends - have thrown my way...and I am super-keen not to build up a series of regrets by letting these opportunities pass me by.  So, maybe, in a kind of Noel Edmonds-style cosmic ordering type of way, by committing these words to cyberspace the shackles will be broken and I'll be able to crack on with the rest of my tasks and the rest of my life unencumbered.

If you've got this far, you may well regard this as the most self-indulgent and pathetic post you'll find on the internet.  It may well be the former, but I don't regard it as the latter. I'm generally in a good place surrounded by so much wonderful opportunity and a sense of freedom which is both exhilirating and energising.  I want to throw myself into this with a sense of vigour I've never had before, but just need to exorcise a few demons first.  If you will, please consider this post my exorcism...

...now, if you've genuinely got this far, please forget everything you've read; it'll just be embarrassing for the both of us.

Normal service - tomfoolery and nonsense etc - will return imminently.

Day 26 (10 June 2011) - 'I'm wicked and I'm lazy...'

..'ooh, don't you want to save me?

Cos I need saving.  I may not be wicked ( in any sense of the word), but I am most certainly lazy, for in the four days since my last post no progress has been made at all on any challenges.  Zip, zilch, nada, nothing; a big fat bagel. 

In mitigation, the aftermath of Tuesday's exam has been one of a willingness to totally relax.  Granted, this hasn't been helped by a monster workload in the office, but if I'm honest I just feel totally zonked at the moment.  Not necessarily in a bad way, but I've spent so much time and energy keeping busy, doing and achieving things, working long hours, studying, exercising and socialising that twelve weeks of six hours sleep is finally catching up on me.  Forgive me?

....well, you shouldn't, cos this is exactly the sort of rubbish excuses I've spent much of my life trotting out.  There's always a reason not to have done things, always other things going on, always mitigating circumstances to fall back on.  The new me is supposed to be a machine; one for whom achievement is a daily occurence, not a once in a blue moon phenomenon.  So, chastise me, abuse me, heckle me and give me the verbal flogging I deserve (and no, this is not meant in a pervy way).

Standards are slipping, I'm falling back into my old ways.  Don't let me do this!  I have too much to do, so many things to achieve and a long way to go before I am truly that automaton.  I will be a giant...I just need the odd prod; so prod away chums!

Day 22 (6 June) - 'Insane in the membrane, insane in the brain...

..,insane in the membrane, crazy insane, got no brain'
Today's post will be the shortest yet, on account of the fact that I am trying to attain a zen-like status of supreme calm and coolness.  So (delivered in a very measured, zen-like fashion) things that have been occupying my brain today are:

1. The 7,892,381 facts I need to remember for my Chartered Institute of Marketing Diploma exam tomorrow morning.  I have spent today on study leave and have had my nose in books for most of it (when I haven't been clearing up the flood caused by the leaking washing machine).  I have attempted to absorb as much as possible through the medium of memory, but also gave sniffing, touching and licking the books a go to see if I could cram any in those ways.  Right now, my brain feels like a house of cards - so full of models, strategies and positions (behave) that each new thing absorbed could bring the whole thing crashing down, leaving me with an empty noggin in the morning.  Wish me luck!

2. The flat I saw.  Do I like it, do I not?  Should I put an offer in, should I not?  Have I seen enough flats to make an informed choice?  Am I doing the right thing?  Am I rushing into things too quickly?  What if I don't like it?  Can I afford it?  Will I end up in a skip in Cumbria?  Think I need a good slap.

3. Anger.  I shan't go into details, but today a straw broke this particular camel's back.  As a result I am very, very, very angry...nay, seething.  Maybe it's all the facts I've been wedging into my little brain, but that little box in the very corner of my cerebellum in which I've been storing stuff this past three months and which was carefully labelled 'archive, do not open until 2016' has been forced open today.  If I were Russell Crowe I'd probably utter the words 'on my command, unleash hell'; however I am better than that (no offence, Russell), so instead rather than go for the all out assault which only leads to the unnecessary spilling of blood, I'll do what the Dalai Lama would do in this situation; namely have a large glass of wine, slam a couple of drawers and watch some Miranda.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I can feel 'the function of a distribution channel' running down my nose.

Toodle pip   

Day 21 (5 June 2011) - Five days to work, one whole day to play...

...come on everybody, grab your rollerskates today.  It's Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, it's Saturday etc'
...except it's not, it's Sunday.  However, yesterday was Saturday and what a big day it was on the challenge front.  One chalked off and another with a big leap forward.  Although, apologies to De La Soul, cos I didn't actually wear rollerskates at any stage (I can barely stand up one two feet most of the time).

So, what did I get up to, I hear you cry!  Well, further to Challenge 28 - Buy a flat in Putney (Suzie), yesterday I had weekend no. 2 of flat-hunting and jolly exciting it was too for I saw a flat which I think I like.  Accompanied by The Bing (Nicola) we saw four quite funky one-beds in Wandsworth...alright now I know the challenge said Putney, but I can't afford anything remotely nice in Putney, and whilst I'm keen to complete as many of these challenges as possible, I'm not prepared to base one of the biggest decisions of my life on a challenge.  I know, I know, I told you a couple of weeks ago not to let me get out of these challenges, but given the circumstances, I'm hoping you'll permit me a small modicum of lee-way, particularly as these flats are a mere 15 minuts walk from Putney High Street. 

The big issue for me has been the old one-bed, two-bed question. Naturally, one-bed flats are cheaper than two-beds, but given my budget if I choose the latter I'm going to have to move slightly further out and buy somewhere a less swanky-looking.  On the flip side, a two-bed gives the option of renting a room out and, of course, the added bonus of having a flat-mate.  I've thought about this over and over again and have reached the conclusion that the two-bed option is actually the safer one (or am I double-bluffing myself).  I've never lived on my own, and the thought is a bit weird.  Those who know me well know that I jabber on and on and on for hours about anything, so not having someone to do this to will be a challenge.  If I'm honest, since the break-up earlier this year, I've kind of been on the run.  I've had some smashing times with friends which have lifted me to levels of happiness and excitement which  a significant other couldn't beat, but the self-doubts, difficult questions and the scary bits have all occurred when on my own - so I've taken the option of simply limiting the time spent on my Bob as much as possible.  However, I recognise that I can't do this forever and have got to get used to spending time with me, myself and I and get comfortable with my own company.  Living by myself will enable tme to tackle this head on.  I've also given myself a good talking to on the subject of financial risk.  Yes, if Craig, if you get sacked or develop a terminal illness, paying the mortgage will be a struggle, however stastically the chances of either of these happening in the very near future are hopefully quite slim,  so will you quit worrying about them (even if they do occur you can always rent the flat).  So the conclusion is bring on single living and my own batchelor pad...
...bet the one I like sells on Monday!! Lol

Following the positive viewing, I hot-footed it to Clapham Junction to catch the train down to sunny Portsmouth to complete Challenge no. 13:  Experience the maritime delights of Portsmouth (Jon).  To borrow a word from Mr Way, what a 'splendid' day this was.  Thanks to Jon's excellent guiding skills the maritime delights included Nelson's Flagship, 'Victory' from when he uttered those famous dying words 'Kiss Me Hardy';  although it's never been cleared up whether he was referring to comedian Oliver, author Thomas or one of  the wrestling brothers Matt & Jeff?!?.  We also saw the Spinnaker Tower, which is most famous for being featured in the recent series of 'The Biggest Loser' (well it is in my world) and the HMS Warrior, although sadly the Mary Rose is being restored so was under cover.  Does anyone else remember being dragged into an assembly to watch the Mary Rose being raised from the sea in 1982?  What's that - none of you were born?  Oh, sod off!  Anyway, BIG thanks to Jon for a top day in sunny Pompey...although I could have done without being hustled on Shave the Sheep!!

  

All in all a fine weekend and couple of ticks in the right column.  On Facebook Caroline very kindly commented 'at this rate we'll have to set you more challenges'.  I'm not exactly whistling through them, but thanks to you this whole process is having the desired effect.  By most people's standards I still haven't achieved a huge amount, but by my own very sedentary ones, I've probably accomplished more in the past three weeks than I've done in the past three years.  The great news is that I'm really enjoying the whole process and feeling more confident and positive - and it must be three days since I've made any remarks about being too old.  However, there is much still to do, so best be cracking on.

Adios

Day 18 (2 June 2011) - Return of the blog...

...it is, return of the blog. 

Aaahh, there's a song which takes me back to the heady days of university, drinking my own body weight in Diamond White (Katie's fault) and generally vomiting for England.  Poor old Mark Morrison.  Touted as Britain's answer to...well I can't remember who he was Britain's answer to, but it was some US R&B mega-star, it all went wrong for Mark when he attempted to demonstrate his 'from the hood' potential, by trying to hold up a petrol station in Leiceater with a cattle prod. 

Yes, after a stand-off between those giants of customer service (!!), Talk Talk and BT, the 'tinterweb connection is restored and the blog is back.  And by way of return, I'd like to celebrate with the announcement of yet more exciting challenges:

  27. Learn circus skills (Kat W) - this challenge involves doing a good handstand, hanging from a trapeze and something about climbing a tissu.  Now I've no idea what this last point is, but I'm assuming it's not a paper-based product you use to wipe you hooter on, for that would be madness.  I know tissues are increasingly strong and man-size, but dangling 145lbs from one is frankly not on.

28. Buy a flat in Putney (Suzie) - and there was me thinking sailing round the world for £25k was a bit on the expensive side.  All I can say on this one is that I'd love to achieve it but it might be a struggle due to finances.  However, I am viewing some Putney shoeboxes tomorrow so will keep you posted.

29. Come and visit me in Bath you bastard (John) - John (the Cedilla) is one of my oldest and best-est friends.  He and his gorgeous wife, Ellen, are also one of the most intelligent couples on the planet.  This title is shared by Alex & Chris, who live in nearby Bristol, so I'm constantly aware that the chance of being caught in the midst of a game of Trivial Pursuit with the four of them is there, albeit tenuously.  I've been promising to go to see them for months  - a typical example of why I need you all to run my life. 

...please keep them coming. 

This weekend I shall be chalking off at least one challenge.  More to follow next week.

Day 15 (30 May 2011) - Sun is in the sky, oh why, oh why would I wanna be anywhere else...

...why indeed, young Lily; for on a day like today where the sun unexpectedly shone on a glorious Bank Holiday Monday, London looks and feels majestic.  How do I know?  Why, because today my blogettes, I had a wee crack at task number 15, namely to be a tourist in my home town – and what a joy it turned out to be.  Armed with my newly acquired copy of ‘Walks of London’ I chalked off the first two chapters, which randomly covered ‘Soho’s colourful past’ and ‘Movie Murder Scenes of London’.  Granted, these aren’t the two topics which would spring to mind for most, but then again the book was £4.99 in the bargain book sale at work. 

So, what did I learn?  Well, lots and lots of stuff; far too much to describe here, but particular highlights included:

·         The backdrop to that Oscar-winning classic, ‘Emmanuelle in Soho’ (I may have made the Oscar-winning bit up)

·         Drinking coffee at Tommy Steele’s favourite cafe (I’m really not making this up – think the book may have been over-priced)

·         Having a swift half in the ‘Golden Lion’ where 60s mass murdered Dennis Nielsen picked up his prey (niiice!)

However, all of these exciting finds paled into insignificance compared to two wonderful revelations.  Before I reveal these, I should explain to those not in the know, that I am a bit of a Carry On afficianado – no surprise to those who have experienced my somewhat juvenile and smutty sense of humour.   Indeed, I am such a fan that I, somehow;  managed to get away with producing a Marxist critique of ‘Carry on up the Khyber’ as part of my degree (a startling admission right up there with using ‘I Tina: the autobiography of Tina Turner’ as the basis of my essay on Black-American Writing...well it was a much-easier read than Alice Walker or Toni Morrison).  As well as seemingly genuinely nice people, the likes of Hattie Jacques, Charles Hawtrey and Terry Scott led such colourful and interesting lives compared to those of the talentless and charmless celebs we have to read about today -  I’d take Joan Sims over Cheryl Cole any day, wouldn’t you?   In short (if only, I hear you cry), my excitement runneth over at my two BIG findings; namely:

1.       Discovering that private members club, The Groucho, was smashed up on more than one occasion by Sid James and Bernard Bresslaw during their apparently legendary all night sessions.  I’ll repeat that last bit again – Sid James and Bernard Bresslaw on all-night sessions.  OMG, how amazing would it have been to have been part of their group?  I’m not sure words have yet been invented to describe how cool it would have been to go drinking with Sid James.  Incidentally, did you know he was South African and trained as a hairdresser?  You didn’t?  Good, something to amuse your friends with. 

2.       Finding, purely by chance (ie not mentioned in the book), the house where Kenneth Williams lived (photo attached).  If you’re ever looking for a cracking read, I can thoroughly recommend Kenneth Williams’ diaries.  It must be nearly twenty years since I read these, but I can still remember the last four words of the book which today remain five of the most powerful and emotional words I have ever read. 

There were soooo many other interesting facts and pieces of information and folklore which made this afternoon so enriching.  I am now hooked and cannot wait to explore more of London – but you can help!  If you have any tips, places of interest or sights you think I should see, please send them my way.  In the meantime, BIG thanks to The G for sending this task my way.

All in all, today was a very good day indeed.  And along the way, I decided that further to yesterday’s little quandary, I should marry Liza Tarbuck – it was the chance of spending my weekends playing golf with Jimmy and Kenny Lynch which swung it. 

Day 14 (29 May 2011) Don’t you know things will change, things will come your way...

...if you hold on for one more day. 

So sang those daughters of nepotism, Wilson Phillips in 1990.  Can it really be 21 years since they sat on top of that mountain trying not to look cold?  Today, during one of the many lovely random conversations I had, the subject of current London super-club, ‘Guilty Pleasures’ arose (do the kids still call them clubs?).  In the ongoing spirit of honesty within this blog: my name is Craig and Wilson Phillips were (are?) my guilty pleasure.  Those following this blog may leave now!

The reason for the choice of this particular lyric – other than a shameless excuse to shoehorn Wilson Phillips into the blog – is that everyone I speak to at the moment seems to be having a rough time.  I’m not sure whether there’s something about 2011 but every phone call or email seems to bring more bad news for a loved one.  So, if you’re having a rough trot, may I suggest a quick burst of ‘Hold On’  - for things will come your way (although if you’re having relationship issues may I also suggest you skip over ‘The Phillips’ other hit ‘Release Me’!   I like to think in the whole ‘ balance of life’ this means that whilst some people are having a rubbish time, some of you are having a bumper spree and filling your boots.  Good news is always welcomed, so whether you’ve got a new job, are getting married, having a baby or simply found an unexpected bottle of wine at the back of your fridge, please share the positive love! 

Although this weekend may not have seen the accomplishment of any of my tasks, it has certainly kept with the programme of driving change and pushing onwards.  For yes, I have been flat-hunting.  On the positive side I have found flats that I can afford (just); they did not require the donning of an industrial suit to avoid catching various diseases and they were demonstrated by Andrew, who wasn’t a total w*nker. ..and there was me thinking Mr Plambeck was in a minority of one.  On the negative side, although close to Putney, which I regard as home, Earlsfield (where said flats are) is still a couple of miles away, which means an effort would have to be made to see friends i.e. there would be no ‘popping’ anywhere.  All thoughts and advice welcome.

Elsewhere, for some random reason, I’ve been thinking about marriage.  Bit odd that, as I’m not sure I actually believe in marriage, and am a ‘confirmed bachelor’ although as those who know me well would testify, I’ve always been on a mission to find the perfect partner and settle down for life  - a bit like a mute swan.  Managed to get that one horribly wrong.  Ho hum.  Anyway, I’ve been thinking about who I would like to marry, if I did believe in it, and have drawn up the following criteria:  must be funny (very);  must enjoy parties but also be happy in the pub; must be able to get on easily with my friends; must enjoy watching sport or be happy to let me watch sport; must be able to discuss stuff like the Palestinian – Israeli question and who’s judging the X-Factor; must not be physically unattractive; must not be overly materialistic; must not be prone to ‘moods’.  Based on this criteria I have drawn up the following list of potential candidates:

·         Adele

·         Liza Tarbuck

·         Scott Mills

·         Jennifer Aniston

·         Clare Balding

·         Ant & Dec

I think I’d be happy with any of these, however am slightly worried that chance of marrying any of the above are fairly slim - but as this is a year of saying ‘yes’ I’m not giving up hope just yet.  To increase my options, if there’s anyone you know who fits the criteria, or just anyone with a pulse you’d like to see me marry, feel free to chuck some suggestions my way.

Right, best go get measured for my morning suit.