Transport

Public transport is never the most pleasant of experiences. Fellow passengers can be smelly, germ ridden, inconsiderate or just downright annoying. Drivers can be impatient, rude and obnoxious. But it is a very necessary evil especially to those without a car.

So far this year, I have been forced to sit on buses for longer than I’d expected because of floods, snow, fallen trees, broken down bin lorries, livestock, Queens of England and Presidents of the United States of America. There is no more frustrating waste of time than to be sitting on a large people carrier surrounded by angry commuters who just want to get to where ever they are supposed to be going.

I’ve also just moved house and my new bus routes seem to go the longest way around to get to any point. Through various housing estates and up and down the back roads, it ensures a journey that should take twenty minutes actually takes twice as long. That is a lot of me time that I’m losing out on.

So I’ve come up with a plan that stops them stealing my time and it keeps my brain occupied. I’ve started a new blog. Yea, another one. It’s called Bus-To-Move (inspired by the Young MC 1989 hip hop classic.)

It is yet another collection of my yammering on about the random shite that enters my head but this one is slightly different to the anthology you are currently perusing. The newest blog has certain rules that have to be adhered to.

• The Blog will run for the month of November 2011 only.
• All bus journeys will be chronicled unless I have company on the bus.
• All entries must be time stamped with the same details as the bus ticket.
•    All entries have to be written while on the bus with the use of blogger on my HTC phone.
• They can only be as long as the journey takes (in the interest of logic the very last sentence can be completed after getting off.)
• All thoughts have to enter my head while on the bus. They cannot be thought about previously.
• Editing and proof reading can be done at a later date but the content of an entry cannot be changed
•     Suitable photos, videos or links can be added at a later date

In case you were worried I might start taking over your Facebook news feed or your Twitter timeline, whoring each entry, you can rest easy. I’m looking at this as a project, which you are welcome to look at if you like, but I’m not going to be pushing it.

Last November I was working on NaNoWriMo and it felt like I should do something this year to keep me busy. So it was either that or grow a Movember. And I think I’ve made my feelings clear on that topic.

So I’m only going to be doing Bus-To-Move until the end of November. I’d appreciate anyone who wants, taking a look at it then, but if you want to check out the progress as it evolves, you can find it here.

Quandary

There is always a worry about committing your words and thought to world in this manner. As soon as I publish this on my blog, it is out there forever. Even if I delete on the site the code or whatever it’s called, will still be there and anyone with the appropriate technical skills could retrieve it. This is a bit of a scary thought.

Especially when, as a writer, you are adamant and definite about everything you say. Your opinion at a certain time is etched in cyber stone for all the ages. If you say something, you better damn well mean it because it’s never going away.

Generally this isn’t too much of a problem for me. At this stage in my life I’m comfortable with who I am and what my beliefs are. I’m also quite stubborn so it would take a lot of convincing to get me to change my mind on something. If Jedward bring peace to the Middle East and fill the hole in ozone layer, they will still be a pair of half-witted fucktards as far as I’m concerned.

That doesn’t mean my words don’t sometime come back to bite me on the bum. Having complained about it here, I was surprised to find myself making a very public display of affection on the bus recently. I’ve also spoken with great affection about Fernando Torres and then he left me (well, Liverpool Football Club,) shattering my tiny heart and my belief in true football love.

The worse example of possible literary hypocrisy has yet to happen yet. You might remember a piece I wrote recently about my disdain for silly world record attempts and for people doing things for charity because it’s a bit cool. It managed to offend a couple of people who were none too impressed with my take on things. That is fair enough, everyone is entitled to opinion and I stand by mine.

The problem is, I’ve recently been asked to help out with one of those stupid world record attempts. Part of me thought if I want to have any integrity I need to refuse straight out but the other part of me wanted to do it. I was at a moral fork in the road.

The record attempt is to get the most people writing a short story. I’m not sure exactly how it will work but from what I can gather they want to get about 900 people to write a sentence each. My role will be to help out with the starting of the story and to make sure each participant understands the structure of the tale and how they should proceed. Interesting, yes?

It also will be helping out Fighting Words and another organisation I have done some stuff for before, See Change, which is a mental health awareness programme. So the upside of doing it definitely outweighs the negatives. I may have people calling me a charlatan and a hypocrite but I’m sure I can live with it. I;ll post more details closer to the event and maybe you can join me in my two faced adventures.

As long as I don’t have to grow a stupid moustache.

Birthday

Since we last spoke (makes more sense than read/wrote,) it has been a busy and eventful couple of weeks. Firstly my house flooded. Imagine my surprise to come home from a very enjoyable evening with my old Meteor colleagues, to discover my hall and stairway covered with water. My bemusement was increased when I discovered a never before seen hacksaw lying on my landing floor.

When I contacted my landlord, at a drunken one a.m., he informed me that he had to check something out in the attic earlier in the day and he ‘must have knocked a pipe’ or something. What exactly he had to check I’m not sure. As a qualified plumber, I’m sure he knew. Although I’d have thought that would provide him with enough expertise to not ‘knock a pipe.’

A slightly lingering damp odour aside, it has all been rectified. I stayed in a hotel for night or two and he compensated me for any damage. I’m not sure how much damage my relationship with him has suffered. I’ve lived in this house longer than anywhere else other than my parents, so I don’t really want to move but it’s fair to say I was unimpressed with the situation.

It was made all the worse by the fact that it occurred over the weekend that I was celebrating my birthday.

I turned 35 and celebrated in style. Drinks, food, new outfit, nice presents, the seventh annual Jayhaitch Invitational pool tournament. And as ‘Birthday’ fitted into my new alphabetically sequential blogging scheme, I was planning on writing all about it. Then this happened.

Shiny Blogging Nonsense is one of my favourite blogs to read. The author is a lovely person and back when I got started with this whole blogging thing she was one of the first people to give me encouragement despite her being more a friend of a friend than someone who I was well acquainted with. So when she wrote a piece about birthdays I couldn’t really do the same.

Not only did she ‘steal’ my idea before I had it, she wrote about it in a far superior manner. Reading her blog is like being around in an old friends toasty flat, for a cup of tea and a chat. She’d probably bake cookies too. Mine is more like going to the hospital for a check up before discovering the doctor is actually an absconded patient from the psych ward.

That is both the beauty and the problem of blogging. Different styles, topics and opinions. You just have to find the ones you like. That can be harder than it sounds but if you do discover something you like, you’ll go back again and again...hint hint.

I have been blogging for almost a year and half and I still feel like I’m a novice who hasn’t discovered how to use something properly. I look at people with thousands of posts and comments and I feel like I’m playing serious catch up.

Not that I have any complaints. Looking at my Blogger stats is fascinating (for me anyway.) This post has been viewed more than twice as many times as any other article of mine. In the last month my blog has been viewed 197 times in the United States. To put that into perspective, in the same time it was viewed 103 times in Ireland, where I and the majority of my friends and family live.

On a single day in April it was viewed 60 times, half of those from Russia. Other than one friend, who lives in Ireland, I don’t know any Russian. Today I got a new follower, called Niall. Hi Niall.

Of course, you can prove anything with statistics. I’m not sure what these prove other than I’m a worldwide phenomenon like GLEE, U2 or political corruption. So I guess what I’m trying to say is Thanks for reading. I really appreciate it.

If I could ask one favour of you it would be to leave more comments on the blog. All feedback is greatly appreciated and good or bad it’s nice to know what you think.

If I could ask two things it would be to read Shiny Blogging Nonsense. It’s a jolly good read by a really nice person. And I still have a book I borrowed off her ages ago so the plug might go some way to gaining a reprieve on that.

Satellite

“Let me take you on a journey. A journey into German Opera”

The above statement was contained in a text message I received recently. Apropos of nothing, that would be quite a vague sentence for anyone to take the time to type. However, it been preceded by a rant about the banalities of the current crop of BBC presenters and their insistence on using clichés when segueing into the next link, gave it some credence

It had come from a friend who had just heard that very sentence used on T.V. Angered and appalled by such tired presenting she felt the need to text me and vent her frustration (She also text me when McDreamy was shot…whatever that means.) I agreed with her that is was ridiculous and trite and we concurred that he should be taken out and beaten about the face with potted plants. It was an enjoyable conversation. She told me I could use it in my blog.

Now there a couple of reasons why I wouldn’t do this (oh the irony.) The first reason is that “Let me take you on a journey” is used at the start of The Mighty Boosh. A wacky comedy show that the ‘kids’ love. I enjoyed its off the cuff irreverence at first. The more I watched and the more I heard the ‘kids’ saying how genius it was the more I questioned it. Its really not as clever or as funny as it thinks it is.


One word that is constantly bandied about when describing it original. Its no more original than I am. Its style and humour can directly be traced back through the likes of Vic and Bob, The Goodies, Monty Python and The Goons. I’m not saying its terrible but they didn’t invent comedy as some internet boards would have you believe. In fairness my problem is probably more with their fans than their comedy.

The second reason I wouldn’t be using it in my blog, is because it wasn’t my idea. If it had come to me naturally after the conversation well then I would have used it. A clever little dissection of the decline in quality televisual reportage. However because she suggested it, it would be a little cheeky of me to take her idea and claim it as my own.

It did however make a nice change to have someone suggest that I could use something I shared with them on here. People have become a little paranoid about meeting me. Many conversations and encounters are suffixed with, “don’t talk about this on your blog.”

I find this a little offensive to be honest. Over the years people have trusted me enough to share secrets with me. A vast range of confidentialities have been entrusted to me. I have never once felt the need to share. And some of them would make great stories. Who wouldn’t want to hear about the girl who cries out “Oh thank you, Easter Bunny” at the height of passion (you know who you are.) But I have never betrayed her trust.

Also what they fail to understand , is that its not about them. Even if they are featured in one of my pieces, its not about them. Its about me. I know that sounds a little egotistical but hear me out. Even if someone is involved in one of my little tales, its not them I am talking about. Its an imaginary version of them that I have created to fit my mood. Doesn’t everyone do that?

I guess its like that part in High Fidelity (the book, not the movie) where Rob is talking about how he is the star in the movie of his own life, but when it comes down to it he’s probably only an extra in a crowd scene in someone else’s movie. For someone else’s movie, I’m probably left on the editing room floor. But here on Insert Witty Pop Culture Reference Here, I’m the character, subtext, romantic subplot, comedy relief and gratuitous nude scene. But none of that would make any sense without my supporting cast. (That’s a compliment I swear.)

So in the context of the movie of my life, I’ve decided to cast it with the crop of Hollywood's finest. Of course I can’t cast everyone who has ever featured in my life so some of the characters are a composite of more than one person from reality.

Of course to play me I would love to cast John Cusack. He’s smart, funny, has a good track record of playing men struggling to reach maturity. However I don’t think people would buy him as me. Instead I am going to cast him as a cross between a spirit guide and my conscience. He will play the part Adeela, my therapist (who by the way was lady of Pakistani origins, Cusack has got range.)

To play the role of my parents I am going to reunite one of Hollywood's power couples from back in the day. The part of my Dad will be played by Jack Nicholson. Mostly because some of Jack’s facial are very similar to my dads. To the point where I was uncomfortable watching As Good as it Gets. His wife will be played by a woman who has played a lot of Irish mammies lately, Angelica Huston.

My two oldest friends will be played by Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, despite the possibility of Affleck being attacked by lumberjacks. My other friends will include, Kevin Bacon, Jarvis Cocker, The League of Gentlemen, James Galdofini, Dylan Moran and Basil Brush.

The love interests will be played by Reese Witherspoon, Jeanane Garoffolo and Uma Thurman. Oooh I can hear the women I’ve known wondering out who is whom as I type. They are compositions ladies.

I suppose for me we are looking at someone like Jack Black. I do however find his schtick really irritating these days. So instead I considered going to go with the greatest actor of his generation, Philip Seymour Hoffman but when I thought about it, he’s just doesn’t have the requisite sex appeal. Clooney and Pitt are too ‘traditionally’ handsome and Johnny Depp is frankly a terrible actor. So I’m left with no choice but to play myself in my opus.

And off course I’ll find a role for my good friend Glen, who is a professional actor and this week is appearing in J.P. Shanley's ‘Doubt’ in the Teachers Club on Parnell Square West. It is an excellent play and I heartily recommend you go see it if you can.

I’ve even thought about some songs that should be on the soundtrack. It contains music from people like Whale, Paul Simon, Avril Lavigne, Fighting Spiders and Elton John. It would be a must have album for a generation. Like the soundtrack to Pulp Fiction or Trainspotting.

I am aware that this makes me sound incredibly egotistical. However, surely everyone is entitled to be an icon in their own head at least. I’d love to hear who you would pick to play you in the movie of your life.

I guess most people wouldn’t be vain enough to post it on the internet for all to read. Let me have this one thing. Let me be a star. In fairness, in the movie of your life I’ll probably be played by Leo from Fair City.