Screaming For Higher Ground
"You're all potential anarchy burgers. If you want to be free, order yourself an anarchy burger (hold the government, please)."
Is it just me, or did the standards drop in here? I think NFADR might be suffering from my attentions being focussed elsewhere. The fitness regime is leaving me in varying states of physical collapse, so the only time I come to the computer to do any real writing is when I'm feeling creative. At the moment, that means The Novel (hovering at 3k. Believe me, that's progress) or The Curve Ball Conspiracy (pet project of the hour). What it doesn't mean is wandering over here and banging out an essay about whatever's on my mind. For the moment, there isn't a whole hell of a lot I can do to change that. Once I get permission to work and start getting out a bit more, I'll have a lot more to write about. For now, I have this feeling we'll be seeing a fair few more memes. Or who knows, maybe a Secrets Of Working Out...Revealed.
While we're on the subject of what's going in this little corner of the interweb, some of you may have noticed the reappearance of posts from June and July of 2004, when I first started the original incarnation of the blog. While I won't be adding the archives in their entirety, it's my intention to restore a reasonably representative history (that being the posts I like) of Notes From A Darkened Room.
I really should do a big fat post about life in California. Living here is a massive and drastic difference, it really is. Looking into the archives has reminded me of times when I'd think nothing of hammering out two or three thousand word posts for fun. I'll think about something along those lines for Sunday, when Jenn watches her crime shows and I run screaming for higher ground.
Is it just me, or did the standards drop in here? I think NFADR might be suffering from my attentions being focussed elsewhere. The fitness regime is leaving me in varying states of physical collapse, so the only time I come to the computer to do any real writing is when I'm feeling creative. At the moment, that means The Novel (hovering at 3k. Believe me, that's progress) or The Curve Ball Conspiracy (pet project of the hour). What it doesn't mean is wandering over here and banging out an essay about whatever's on my mind. For the moment, there isn't a whole hell of a lot I can do to change that. Once I get permission to work and start getting out a bit more, I'll have a lot more to write about. For now, I have this feeling we'll be seeing a fair few more memes. Or who knows, maybe a Secrets Of Working Out...Revealed.
While we're on the subject of what's going in this little corner of the interweb, some of you may have noticed the reappearance of posts from June and July of 2004, when I first started the original incarnation of the blog. While I won't be adding the archives in their entirety, it's my intention to restore a reasonably representative history (that being the posts I like) of Notes From A Darkened Room.
I really should do a big fat post about life in California. Living here is a massive and drastic difference, it really is. Looking into the archives has reminded me of times when I'd think nothing of hammering out two or three thousand word posts for fun. I'll think about something along those lines for Sunday, when Jenn watches her crime shows and I run screaming for higher ground.
posted by Michael at 5:12 PM
3 Comments:
It's pretty surreal when your mind tank is travelling along one day taking inventory of the cat meowing at the window, picking up the mail at the door and then it just catches. You're standing there in your pajamas, letting the cat in a completely different country and on top of that you are MARRIED.
I still have those moments where I'm like, "Holy shit...I'm a 'MRS.' AND I live in England!"
They are rad though, because the shock is immediately followed by relief and happiness. And not everybody gets a chance like that...
I'm the anonymous one up above and Ray thinks you should make your links lighter so he can "fucking well see them". He's so tetchy.
I knew it was you, but then I know EVERYTHING. Oh, and could you do me a favour and tell Ray that if he's having trouble reading the links, he can make them LIGHT UP by touching them with the cursor. If you could say this in a slightly higher tone than your normal speaking voice whilst smiling reassuringly and ruffling his hair, I'd be very grateful.
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