SPACE

Locked Out

On Wednesday, a humourous series of events left me locked out of my new home for 5 hours. I entertained myself pretty well, falling in love with the wonderful backyard. I swept those bricks until they shone and recalled the Sweeper character from Terry Prachett's novels.

Blerk

Seasonal platitudes to one and all. My holiday period has been magnificent. I hope that yours has been likewise.

Tailor is (mostly) packed and ready to go. Convoy departs Melbourne at ten hundred hours and will be invading Adelaide at great haste (legal haste).

Thx to everyone who came to the Drette for Farewell Fuzzy NYE party. It was excellent. Mega thx to everyone who came to the casino last night for a last minute "hey we better play some poker before you go!" action.

The extra travelling money will come in handy :)

is this thing on?

It appears that I may have left this a little too late. I'm not talking about the months its been since I actually generated any content on the web, but more directly about the minutes since there stopped being any sun shining gloriously down onto the deck at the 'drette. Oh well, since I'd made the decision to wander out onto the deck with my laptop, a cider and an mp3 playlist and finally post something so in the words of Hunter S Thompson; buy the ticket, take the ride.

I've realised I'm not young any more, deducing this fact from a large variety of symptoms. The ones which aren't physical all seem to stem from the fact that I'm no longer as impetuous as I once was. A point proven very neatly by the fact that I actually checked that impetuous means what I thought it meant after I'd typed it. Measure twice, cut once. It's a lesson which took quite some time to sink in.

There are many upsides, but there are also some downsides. One of these is that I don't spam drivel onto the web as much as I used to. I can confidently state that because I know that the only people who will read this are the ones who have been giving me hell over the fact that I don't post any of my own words any more.

Hi guys. Thanks.

Boeing Phantom Ray

Blerk

Thanks to everyone who took the time to inform me that I haven't posted on my blog for a long time.

Life is good and things are well. As I edge up on my 31st birthday I'm often left contemplating how back in the middle of 2009 I, so totally honestly, told people that turning 30 didn't worry or scare me in the least. I had conversations with my close friends about how hitting the big three oh had given them pause, as they realised that they were now officially "not young". Me, I still felt young.

I proved that I was young too. A young fool prone to making mistakes. By the time I reach 31 I'll have realised that being "not young" is all about learning from those mistakes. I won't even begin to list the things I've learned during my 31st trip around our wonderful sun, but they mostly revolve around me being slack, unorganised and lacking a plan for the future.

I'd heard a line in a stand up spot one time which made me laugh; until a man gets to be 30, he still always has the thought in the back of his head that he could go to a temple high in the mountains and train at the feet of masters and become a ninja. Once he gets to 30 he realises that he may have left it too late.

Luckily I never had any strong dreams of becoming a ninja. I just want to be an interesting person. I want to be someone who people are glad they're around. Someone who walks through doors and receives big, warm and loving smiles from the people he's joined.

This has been happening to me more and more lately. I like it.

I just want to be half the man my dogs think (thought?) I am.

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