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Too Much Analysis

I’ve been thinking about human interaction a bit. Bad idea. Thinking usually ends up troubling me.

Sometimes, it seems to me that a lot of human interaction is bullshit. You pretend to feel better than you really do whenever possible, pretend to be more interesting than you think you really are, and generally ‘sell’ yourself. I’m absolutely useless at doing this. You’d think, understanding the theory, I might not be quite so pathetic at it—then again, part of the problem is understanding it, because then you start to question its futility or dishonesty and open another massive can of worms. Oboy. Too much time on my hands = too much analysis.

Work situation… a brief rant…
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Another Year Ends

This entry will smack of tokenism, as it’ll likely be the last one of this year. Best wishes for the new one to those who care.

Since this has become more a book/film comment sort of blog lately (accident not design), I’ll mention a couple of purchases. I took advantage of WHSmith’s sale, picking up the videos of Jeepers Creepers and A.I. (Artificial Intelligence) for £4.49 each. A good deal for a couple of pretty successful 2001 films.
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Christmas Approaches

I got pretty bummed out yesterday, but it was just over general stuff. Nothing major. Mom was in out-patients briefly, to have a couple of skin cancers removed… not serious, just an unfortunate side-effect of the drugs she takes as a transplant patient. (Kidney transplant, 1990.)

Today, we watched the 1956 Moby Dick movie on Channel 4. I generally don’t watch afternoon films, but I’d actually never seen this one. It was directed by John Huston, screenplay by Ray Bradbury. Anyhow, glad I finally saw it. Gregory Peck—who I’ve always had immense admiration for—was typically brilliant as Ahab. And it reminded me that I’d like to see To Kill a Mockingbird again sometime, as I hardly remember anything about it (I saw it a long time ago). Harper Lee’s original novel is excellent, and would probably be in my top ten list if I thought there was any sense in making in such things.
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The House Must Go

About the house move situation (see August 18th)… the house wasn’t in very good shape, really, and a lot of things have needed to be done. We still need to get a door fitted to the back of the garage—we bought the door, now we need someone to put it on! Dad did all that stuff, and to be honest, my limit is painting walls. The old door was/is falling to bits, literally. Otherwise, I think the place is just about presentable, although I have some tidying to do on my tip of a bedroom.
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The Earth Moved

Yesterday was the day we had an earthquake.

Mom and I sat watching an old John Wayne film on TV. Suddenly, just before 1:00am, the house shook fairly violently, and it sounded/felt like something very heavy (maybe a car) had fell on the roof. It lasted about 30 seconds, by the end of which we were both on our feet and both in extreme panic. Then it faded off. Since mom has angina, the strain on her heart was a bit of a worry, but she was okay after a while. It wasn’t strong enough here to shake any pictures from the wall or break any ornaments, but it was very hairy.
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What’s Up?

Life update since the death of my father…

Mom has decided to sell this house and move somewhere smaller, so that we have some money in the bank as savings. Dad left no savings at all and had no life insurance. We’ll be staying in this area, though. We might even get a two-bedroom flat, actually. Neither of us are gardeners, so a garden would be a needless burden.
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Loss

On July 7th 2002, in the early hours, our family dog Fred died, following a long illness. We’d been prepared for it for some time, but it was still a blow, as he was only eight years old.

By the early evening of the same day, astonishingly, my father was being rushed to hospital with a massive heart attack. In the early hours of July 8th, after several attempts to revive him, he too passed away. We’d had no warning of this, although the doctor said he had apparently been suffering from a serious, undiagnosed heart condition for a long time. He was 62.

Loss
Fred in 1998.
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The Meaning of Whatever

Hmmm… well, I’m not even sure I have a need to do this blog anymore. But I guess I’ll keep it, at least until a better idea turns up. Maybe I’ll think of a good use for it sometime.

‘What about all your moaning about how crappy life is?’ Yeah, exactly. I’ve noticed that a lot of people use their blogs for that purpose and it makes me think, maybe perversely, that it must be a bit of a naff thing to do! In any case, I’d like to think that my desire to moan is diminishing… I could pretty easily whine about our dog’s illness, or the fact that my social life is, to say the least, minimalistic, but… it’s old. Been there, done it.
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Dodged Bullet

Oh, I was almost on BBC News yesterday. They were doing a thing about the (yawn) rail cock-ups at New Street station, and in spite of my best efforts to avoid it, I almost certainly walked into shot on two occasions. I saw the report, though, and the bits with me on it weren’t used. *phew*
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