Irony, Alanis.

I'm going to say something now that will seem pretty ironic on a blogg (Take note Alanis Morissette) but sometimes, I really hate communicating on line.

Just recently I became single again. I broke up with a really lovely girl who had been treating me very well and with which I had a perfectly nice relationship. So why end it you may ask? Well....it was nice. Now I know some people spend their whole lives hoping for a nice relationship and who am I to hope for more? Well I have to hope. I haven't got to 36 to give up on true love now and just settle.

Get to the point mister

Ok. Well, over the last few months I began to develop feelings for a girl I've known for a long time. It was one of those situ's where it creeps up on you without you really noticing. But. I was in a relationship, and I needed to let that go through due process (romantic I know) I needed to see where it was going, if anywhere. Ultimately, the answer was nowhere, and that's why I broke it off. As soon as I broke it off my feelings for this other girl came flooding through. Evidently I had been surpressing a lot whilst in the relationship out of respect for my girlfriend. For a month before I had been convincing myself my feelings for the other woman (lets call her walker-girl) was just a silly crush. We are very different people and I tried to convince myself it couldn't work.

Then of course, I broke up with the girl I was seeing.

After a weeks of tieing myself in knots thinking and rethinking and over-thinking walker-girl I realised I was getting way in front of myself. All I needed to know was that I was attracted to her. I couldn't know whether we'd get on in a capactity that was more than just friends unless we spent some time with just the two of us.

I intended to wait a respectful few weeks before I made any sort of move on her but alcohol and facebook came in to play. Groan.

So, idiot that I am, I told her about my feelings via the wonderful medium that is facebook chat after a few beers. Facebook chat, with all it's fascinating quirks such as pretending you're writing for an hour and a half or telling everyone you're off line when you're not, is not the best or easiest way to communicate really.

So the discussion turned into a facebook message-fest rather than a chat.

All so easily misconstrued. So easy for what should be a light conversation to turn in to something uncomfortably intense. So difficult to have a heart-to-heart.

The conversation turned badly for me. Although I was 99% certain walker-girl had feelings for me she was using every excuse under the sun to not go on a simple date. And if I argued with her about it I would just seem intense and creepy. So when she asked if we could stay friends or was it too difficult, I told her it was too difficult.

But then...we both turned up to the sunday walk in the group we are members of. I was distant. We needed to have a chat but we couldn't do it with 20 other walkers around us. We exchanged glances. Even walked close to each other. We joined in a threeway conversation without really talking to each other.

Ridiculous.

So after the walk I called after her. Handed her the book I had promised to lend to her the week before. She looked sad. We had not had our usual daft jokey time on the walk where I would flirt and she would look pleased that I was paying her attention. She had told me how much I made her laugh and today, I hadn't done that at all with her.

So I asked again. In person. To her face. The way it's meant to be. "Meet me for a drink"

"Yes" she said. She smiled at me. Leaned towards me. She looked like she really wanted some physical contact. I should touch her arm. Stroke her face, maybe. Perhaps even kiss her. Instead we just exchanged a long deep look in to each others eyes.

I told her not to look so scared. She said she was scared, that she hadn't dated in a long time. I reminded her that I had asked her to meet me for a drink, not to bear my children.

I know she will continue to over-think this, but hopefully we will get to meet, where we can talk things out and get to know each other better, rather than messing things up with silly on-line conversations.

As much as I love the t'interweb, it really is not a great place to conduct your romantic life. Much better to just hunt your latest squeeze down on facebook, then organise to leave cyber space together and enter the real world.

Tony Slattery and perceptions

When I was growing up I remember the time when Tony Slattery became the butt of many jokes all with a punchline of "Tony Slattery is on TV a lot"

Funny thing is, I always felt this was said with great affection for a much loved man. He was probably my favourite comedy performer at the time. I particularly loved his turns on "Whose line is it anyway?"

He has provided me with two of the funniest moments I have ever seen on TV.

The first occurred during an episode of "Whose Line" after a series of withering insults had been shot in his direction (which was perfectly in keep with the program and was not meant nastily), he dropped out of character and shouted "Oh fuck off!" at the top of his voice. To me this was said with perfect comic timing, without malice and with his trade mark twinkly eyes. I creased with laughter, as did the audience.

The second was, I think, from the opening scene of the short-lived sit-com "Just a Gigolo"

The scene started (Well, as far as I remember it) with him sitting next to his brother on a sofa. You can only see the two of them from the shoulders upwards. His brother is clearly struggling with something with his arm reaching behind Tony's back. As the camera panned down it revealed Tony to be wearing a bra over his jumper. At this point Tony jumped up, unclipped the bra from behind his back and said "Oh for goodness sake, it's only one small clip!"

I realise in the re-telling this doesn't sound all that funny, but trust me, it was hilarious!

You may wonder why I am mentioning all this? Well, I am currently reading the second installment of Stephen Fry's autobiography. In it he mentions that he performed with Tony many years ago. This reminded me of how sad I had been when Tony suddenly disappeared from our screens. I remembered reading that bi-polar disorder had been a major part of this.

As you do, I began to google Tony and read his wiki entry. At the bottom of it were two links to articles from the Independent, one written in 2003 and one in 1998 and here's where I finally get to my point-

The first article described Tony in such unflattering terms that I was very much taken aback. He was described as a man that no body liked and "What's always been unsettling about him, this sense that deep down something black and nasty and not very light-entertainment was going on"

The author asked if you ever heard anyone saying that they loved Tony Slattery, that he was a genius. The author suggests not.

Well love, meet me, I'm the one who did. I don't remember this Tony Slattery she describes. I remember him being incredibly funny, jolly, likable, capable of amazing wit and intelligence. Her article is written with such a seemingly large chip on her shoulder about him, it makes me wonder what he did to her? To paraphrase the immortal words of Hank in Californication, it's not like he "Finger-banged her cat"

Once again it brought me back to a thing that I think about a lot- perceptions. I just can't seem to get even close to working it all out.

For instance recently, I heard a guy I very much like and have chatted to at great length on many occasions, described as basically being self-obsessed. "He talks about himself a lot" was the way it was put. "Have you never noticed that Scott?"

Well no, I hadn't, because I don't think he does. And this is from me, someone who DOES talk about himself way too much.

I myself (told you I talk about myself way too much) have been described in so many vastly differing ways my mind boggles. From "So laid back you're practically asleep" and "Mr happy" to "In a constant state of mild discontentment" and "Argumentative"

In my own mind, I am far more middle-of-the-road than either of these descriptions. I am constantly aware of the false impressions I give out of myself. For a start, people think me full of confidence when the truth is very far from there. I have been described as "intelligent" on so many occasions that the very word when applied to me makes my skin crawl. Believe me when I say, that life has taught me, and very resolutely, that I am not gifted with any special quantity of intelligence. In fact I am more than capable of total stupidity which I demonstrate all too cringe-inducingly often.

I would love to project a more accurate representation of myself to the world. I constantly think about this and try to retrain and readjust myself, but sadly the moments when I get it right are far out weighed by my failures. When I get it right, it feels glorious and it feels like everyone gets me and I am the man I want to be. It's all too rare though.

One of my largest failings is the violence of which I will impart my opinion on something. Typically I will start a topic with such vehement damning/praise of a subject that anyone who wishes to disagree with me or even enter into a discussion would pretty much have to start an argument. Most people don't want to do this unsurprisingly. I really am far from the arrogant tit that this makes me look and I really do not have any problem with anyone disagreeing with me, but from the ugly base which I present it gives other people little room to manoeuvre.

But I know all this about myself. So why don't I change?

Well, I'm trying.

Who am I?

So who am I you might ask? Well, if I knew that, I probably wouldn't be writing a blog.

I suppose I can give you the mechanics easily enough and we can go on from there.

I'm 36. Still have 2 parents and I am the youngest of 3 brothers. I've spent 7 years of my life in University and am currently using neither of the qualifications I gained there. I'm from the city of Kingston Upon Hull, East Yorkshire, England. I now live in Leeds which is an hour west of there. I have also lived in Liverpool for a year and Brisbane, Australia for a year.

Before you fall asleep, I'll try to tell you some interesting things about me.

I've jumped from a moving air craft.

I've fallen off a horse.

I've supported my team when they were the best AND when they were the worst.

I've shaved a woman's head and felt the last pulse of a dying woman.

I've been engaged and had the love of my life leave me, come back to me, then leave me again.

I've only truly given my full heart once.

I've walked for 100km (63 miles) in one go for a charity walk. It took 27 hours.

Probably enough from me for now. Many things occur to me on a regular basis that I want to write down, so hopefully I will add to this blog often.