2008 is a Leap Year,
Let's get Leaping!
Posts archive for: December, 2007
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new year resolutions
@ 2007-12-30 – 22:24:02
Bah, humbug!
I have no intention of making any new year resolutions this year.
Or next year either.
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Sitcom Alec: Further Casting
@ 2007-12-30 – 18:20:00
In two crucial new casting decisions in the sitcom set in my mother's bedroom (see below), I have approached Peter O'Toole with a view to him playing the ghost of my Father (divorced from my mum in 1950, aka the el*phant in the room), and the part of my sister has been offered to Dustin Hoffman.
Also, in the first episode, Ainsley Harriet has been cast as a locum doctor. Vanessa Phelps (spelling?) is the Neigbour from Help - I mean Hell.
Can't wait to start writing it.
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My Family Cast
@ 2007-12-30 – 10:58:15
When he was still alive, I often imagined John Gielguid playing the part of my father in the film of his, or my, life.
My mother - whose life after thirty barely figured in my father's, except through 24-carat guilt and financial arrangements - is harder to cast. And despite her grandiosity (or, of course, because of it) I imagine not a feature film but a sitcom. Only Ingmar Bergman could have attempted a serious drama out of her life, and even he would have played many scenes for tearful laughs.
Which doesn't mean the real life version feels at all funny. But it does help to think of it that way.
The sitcom would be called An Unconscionable Time, a title no doubt vetoed by network executives as too subtle.
My mother is played by Judi Dench, made up to look older. Judi Dench always has a twinkle in her eyes - but as a great actor I'm sure she could suppress it for the series.
I would cast Richard E Grant as myself. He's younger than me but what-the-hell. He would have the ability to express with his face the distaste he feels for his own compromising words.
My sister creates the most difficult casting problem. Meryl Streep? Judie Foster? Too self aware, emotionally intelligent. Joanna Lumley? Too posh. Maureen Lipmann? Possibly, though again she would have to have a humour by-pass. I am open to suggestions.
To give you a guide, my sister (a TV and radio journalist) tells me that she is often mistaken for Parker Bowles, Duchess of Cornwall.
How would you cast your family?
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No Honour
@ 2007-12-29 – 20:39:44
All those New Year's Honours, and none given for Services to Blogging.
Of course, as a socialist republican, I would have turned my knighthood down. -
wee-wee, teehee!
@ 2007-12-28 – 23:28:21
They have only started arriving during the festive season.
But I have had six more of them today, telling me that, behind my back, people snigger, calling my sexual organ "wee-wee". (who are thes people? have I been promiscuous in my dreams without remembering?)
Anyway, I can only speculate that this nasty wee-wee rumour is being spread by safriz or TKK.
Well, I can promise you that when I start sharing a bed with my Imaginary Girlfriend she will give it a grander, more truthful, possibly lyric name.
... flattering, but irritating. omg, I haven't even met her yet, and I've already iven myself a reason to split up with her.
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virtual pathos
@ 2007-12-28 – 08:37:08
A few months ago - or was it last year? - I invented a virtual girlfriend to write about on this blog. I think she was called Angela.
Anyway it didn't work out. We never got it together. Several meaningful conversations verging on rows, one at Heathrow. I broke up with my Imaginary Girlfriend before it even started.
Deeply pathetic.
I'm thinking of trying again.
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Help! no reaction
@ 2007-12-27 – 22:09:10
So far, no Comments on the extracts from my old novel Help! which I am currently publishing on my other blog...
The installment I have blogged tonight (Tom on the Beach) was the one that was rejected a few years back by a horrified internet publisher on grounds of obscenity.
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a comforting thought about living forever
@ 2007-12-26 – 23:26:33
Silly maybe, but comforting....
Supposing, when we die, we enter the land of our dreams. for good
Often when I dream, the place I'm inhabiting feels familiar - not from 'real life', but from other dreams. The same dream countryside, the same dream streets, the same dream house. Or if they are not the same, then related, similar. On the other hand with apparently infinite variety.
I wouldn't mind spending eternity there....
... except for the nightmares.
But if we believed that after our death we lived on in our dreams, then there would be a profression of dream-therapists, shamen,- maybe a new religion - helping our nights, and our eternity be nightmare free. (The First Church of Alec the Dreamer?)
Otherwise we would go to hell
What a load of nonsense. Good night.
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Help!
@ 2007-12-26 – 14:56:22
No, not another cry of anguish, but the name of a novel I wrote a few years ago, which has been stored in a back drawer behind some old , holey socks ever since I succumbed to the pressure of serial rejection.
Well, looking at it now, I do see ways it could be improved.
Meanwhile, I am publishing a series of extracts from Help! on my other blog, http://start-rainbow.blog.co.uk
It's rites of passage novel, about a guy who thinks he's gay and finds out he isn't.The first part appeared yesterday, the seconfd today....
In my last act of trying to promote this book, I approached a web-publishing site, submitting as a sample the extract I will publish tomorrow. It was rejected as offensive and obscene.
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the problem with green blood
@ 2007-12-26 – 07:54:33
"There's nothing wrong with you" the doctor said, washing his hands.
"Nothing wrong? Is it normal for my blood to be green?"
"Well, there have been other cases..."
"If I'm perfectly normal, why did you give me that injection?"
"Just as a precaution, to calm you down."
The last thing he wanted was to be calm. Bill ground his teeth - or rather the front ones. His front teeth must have grown since this morning. Of course something was wrong.
"I don't know why," the doctor commented, at last finishing his oblutions "you came to see me. Don't you lot have doctors of your own?"
"My lot?"
"Oh don't play all innocent with me, Mr...." The doctor checked his notes for Bill's surname. "How many years have you been on our planet?"
The tranquilizer was beginning to take effect. "I'm thirty two," Bill said, hoping he had answered the question.
"The police will be here in a minute. Come on, you can tell me. When did your spaceship arrive?"
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kicking her in the stomach, metaphorically
@ 2007-12-25 – 22:25:56
Of course now I feel as guilty as hell.
I told my mother I wouldn't be visiting her tomorrow. My sister will still be there, but she'll be out from ten to three.
She flinched away from me into her chair as if I'd kicked her in the stomach. She can't bare to be alone, now. And paid carers or neighbours don't count. It has to be with a member of her family.
I'm not going down tomorrow, because I have to go down there on Thursday, and she would like me to be there on Friday, when my sister leaves, and Saturday as well. And maybe New Years Eve...
She is still very weak, but less so than she has been, because she is eating more now. She is more panicky than ever, because she is feeling so little better despite the extra food.
But it her psyche that is weakest. Her soaul, her sense of self. She could well live for a long time. It feels as if my sister and I are holding a dagger. Or helpless as she is, that is what my mum would like us to think.
My sister says she will fight to the end to keep her out of a home, despite her work committments - but she is already doing far more than me already.
I don't know how much more of this I can take. I really don't know.
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what a wonderful world
@ 2007-12-25 – 03:28:42
0325 hours My first message on Christmas Day is from a stranger, telling me my penis is too small
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to all the lonelies
@ 2007-12-25 – 00:04:20
wallowing or in denial
by circumstance or by choice
desperate or hopeful
deserted or deserting (I guess)
angry, grieving, sad, numb or bordeline happy
persistent or inconsistant
alone or surrounded
sober or tipsy
coked up or spliffed up or withdrawing or horrified at the thought
god fearing or doubtful or atheist or pagan or couldn't care less
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a burst of happiness and affection,
from all of us to all of us.
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A nothing-to-do-with-Christmas Story
@ 2007-12-23 – 23:17:33
The road was endless and straight. He could feel the gravel pushing up on the soles of his old trainers. Flies were gathering round his head. Soon he knew he would be out of breath. It had to be a dream.
But he pinched himself and it hurt. Besides he noticed so many details - the sameness of the fields he passed, the tickle in his throat, the sweat trickling down his stomach, the gurgling that told him it might be agood idea to eat. His thirst was unbearable.
Surely they would get there soon. But where was there? He only knew at the back of his mind. And who were they? Suddenly he could feel the pull around his wrist, the chain connecting them clanking. This is a stupid paranoid fantasy! If this really is no dream he told himself, I can look round. He turned - and the guard caught his neck with a rifle butt. He fell - pulling the rest of the chain gang with him on to the stoney road. "There's always one," said the guard taking aim, before he fired.
Our hero woke in his wife's arms. Red hot pain shot all over his body from a centre near the small of his back.
"Poor darling!" she said. "God knows how you managed to escape."
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alec's ****stmas schedule
@ 2007-12-23 – 21:27:39
Tomorrow, I go down to my mother's to collect her Fiesta, as I'm carless. I can't park it outside here unless I feed a meter, except on Bank Holidays. I am seeing my new doctor first (report follows soon) so I won't get mum's house before lunchtime - which is after her lunchtime. I can foresee she will lie awake tonight fretting about this. I return to London with her car.
On Christmas Day, I drive back down. My sister is staying in the only spare bedroom. We three are rarely in the same space together - and it's usually been in sis's large house. Tension? Torpor? We may even manage to have a good time for a while. Luckily I don't drink so there'll be no temptation.
On Boxing I return to give my sister some time off. She wants to go hunting no comment. Back once more to London. Hell, it's baely an hour's drive.
On the Thursday I can feed the meter for an hour or two, then back down again, to return the car - and meet up with some relations. My mum will be upset her small house is so crowded. Later I return by train pleased, no doubt, I have seen the last of the Kingston by-pass for a while.
Friday - I think is clear.
But on Saturday, my sister returning for a few days to her own life, my mother will expect me down again.
The there's new year...
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Hi Ho, Plastic Lining
@ 2007-12-21 – 15:33:42
Today I finally heard from the owners of the beautifiul flat in Brighton I have been negotiating to buy since August that, despite all the evidence we have produced they are not willing to reduce the price.
Great though the place is, I am not going to pay over the odds in a falling market.
Of course I'm angry they have taken so long to tell me - but hi, ho. They will most likely regret not selling - that's none of my business. You can take horses to the water, but you can't stop them to drowning in it.
Being positive
The good things for me are (1) Although I will complete the sale of my house on January 31st I may be able to rent it back from the new owner for a few weeks. (2) my friendly estate agent has already found some possible alternative Brighton purchases on the internet. -
here's the good news
@ 2007-12-20 – 22:50:33
Tomorrow, the 21st Decemeber, is the shortest day of the year, The low point is Britan comes at 8.33 hours GMT, although I'm not sure what that precisely means.
From then on things can only get better.
Of course, for those of you in the Southern Hemisphere it's downhill all the way.
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the elephant on the roller coaster
@ 2007-12-20 – 20:06:41
Every year there are phrases that become so overused they should be buried without ceremony. These are my candidates for 2007:
"There's an elephant in the room"meaning there's something important happening here that no one is mentioning. or - own up who's farted.and"It's been a roller coaster ride"meaning it's been up-and-down, or by now just - it's been an intenseexperience.What cliches will I be burying next year? -
nothing is real
@ 2007-12-20 – 10:29:22
don't know about you, but that about sums up the first daylight hours, and the prospects for the rest of the day, unfolding
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Hail to the Plonk
@ 2007-12-20 – 01:24:13
Every night, while we sleep, Police-Officer produces excessively long paragraphs protecting Freedom by describing weapon systems and a fictional Iraq. If there such a thing as Criminal Justice, ithis blog would surely feature in the BCUK Hot 18 on a regular basis. -
I can't bare the way
@ 2007-12-20 – 00:26:40
"I can't bare the way you never put the loo seat down," she said, a week after they started living together.
So he made an effort to lower the seat before he left the bathroom."I can't bare the way you always leave the kitchen in a mess when you've done the cooking."She left the kitchen in a mess when she had done the cooking, and he always tidied up. He thought that was part of their arrangement. Still, she didn't cook very often. So from then on, he always cleaned the kitchen as soon as they'd finished eating."I can't bare the way you always come to bed when I'm already asleep.""I've been cleaning the kitchen."She turned over and was soon quietly snoring. He resolved to learn how to clean the kitchen faster.She couldn't bare the way he never told her about his friends, that he always chose old films to watch, that he cleaned his right ear out when talking about his father.He changed all his habits to please her."I can't bare the way you do everything I tell you to." -
sudden death of a mobile phone
@ 2007-12-19 – 22:44:50
On the way to my mother's this morning, a biro burst in my pocket. I was able to wash the ink offf my hand easily enough, but it stuck stubbornly to my mobile phone.
Then it rang. In my mother's this is unusual enough in itself, because there barely ever a signal. I tried to unlock it - but the keys wouldn't press down. The same thing happened an hour later. All the keys were stuck.I could tell it was my friendly estate agent calling. Perhaps he had news of the tortous negotiations over the flat in Brighton. I didn't have his number with me to phone on a landline. And as my mother knows nothing of the negotians torture, it was difficult to explain why it was so important for my mobile to work today. Besides, she was preoocupied with her own distress and panic.Then it got very hot, then very cold and it screen went blank, no doubt forever, RIP. Killed by ink from a biro.I've had for six and a half years. A Nokia. My first mobile. I liked it because the keys were big and it was easy to turn the predictive text off.Now its SIM card will have to live within another.PS. When I got home, at eight o'clock, there were no e-mails or messages about the flat in Brighton, so I suppose my estate agent was just ringing for a chat. Whatever has happened will have to wait 'til tomorrow -
Common dreaming
@ 2007-12-19 – 08:58:48
In my dream I'm walking in a park, probably Wimbledon Common, concerned I haven't apologised to my friend I can't go to his party.
And then I come across them. The party is being held in the park!
I can think of little to say.
My friend is hanging by his arms from a tree branch. They others are running around in circles playing games. There is a black and white cat who almost gets run over by a tour coach, excep it isn't moving. It's my friend's cat; he's ecently advertised for someone to look after it while he's away. No takers.
I feel alienated from the party. Only grown up men, but they are behaving like kids.
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it's not going to come
@ 2007-12-18 – 23:49:30
However long I stare at the screen I can get no inspiration,
Only vanity is keeping me awake
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it's not going to come
@ 2007-12-18 – 23:35:57
