I'm cold. So very, very cold. This is perhaps unsurprising as I'm back in the UK where it is currently Autumn. It was Bob's thirtieth last Friday. Having succesfully wrangled a visa he will be remaining in the antipodes for the forseeable, which came as a massive relief to him as the thought of returning home came across as appealing as a bucket of cold sick. According to the grapevine he has nothing but luck since I left, which lends credence to the oft floated theory that I am in some way jinxed or cursed (I really wish I hadn't peed on that gypsy woman all those years ago). The other day I received a birthday request from the man himself for another blog post, to act as a sort of conclusion to my previous witless ramblings, hence why I am now putting fingers to keyboard for the first time in over a month.
The plane ride back took even longer than anticipated due to bad weather over London (I know. Who'd of thunk it?). I was again flying with China Airlines and again I really cannot say I was that impressed with them. However, I did make aeroplane fwends with a Swedish girl called Magda which helped alleviate the tedium somewhat. The first week or so was spent catching up with friends and family. Got to see our Rosie's flat, help our Alice move into her new house and finally met little Ethan, my cousin Lindsey's new born. I also visited my mam. She's still dead, but other than that, she's fine.
Following that initial flurry of activity I have settled into a bit of a routine. I get up, send out around half a dozen job applications, work on either my writing or drawing, do some exercise and then just potter round for the rest of the day. It's not an especially bad mode of existence, but I'm feeling somewhat understimulated and I am very aware of the very real possibility of slipping into bad habits. My younger brother Josh - unemployed for the past year, days spent watching YouTube videos of strange men eating sticks of deodorant, his get up and go having got up and gone - acts as a sort of Jacob Marley figure, warning me to take heed of the dangers of slipping into sloth and apathy. Unfortunately with the economy being on its arse at the minute, I may well be living like this a while yet.
Do I miss Australia? Of course I do. As I've written before, it's a great place and I genuinely regret that I didn't see more of it. I also miss meeting new people and making new friends (though what I don't miss is striking up a friendship with someone and then them moving on a few days later, something I found to be an utter ball ache). That said, by the time I left I was ready to come back, I was becoming conscious that I was missing key moments in the lives of my loved ones and was finding it harder to ignore the desire to have a place I could call my own. Plus else the possibility of two drunk people loudly fucking in my room has now dropped to zero percent*, which is nice.
As mentioned earlier, it was Bob's birthday on the 5th, which meant that it was mine the day after. It was my thirtieth, which I'm told, being a round number and that, has a much greater signifigance than, say, my twenty sixth. Had a much quieter one than last year, which involved me being borderline sexually assaulted by a transvestite, denied entry to a bar as I'd had more than a thimbleful of booze prior to my arrival and then being lectured by a hobo about how it was the fault of the blacks and the gays or possibly just the gay blacks. When I was younger I used to dread birthdays and would be in a foul mood in the days before and after them. Generally speaking I've made my peace with them now. My main objection was that I felt that I hadn't done enough with my life and that it was just plain rude that time kept plodding forward despite the fact that I hadn't yet had the Great British Novel published, been wooed by a green skinned space babe from the planet Sex or flown to the moon. I still haven't done any of those things, but I've had many more limited, but no less worthwhile experiences, not least of which is the last year I've spent travelling around a foreign country with one of me best mates. It does occur that I'm entering my third decade with no job, no romantic prospects and no home. But these are things that are easily resolved, once I've got a bit of traction. Currently working on a few things that'll hopefully see the light of day sometime next year, though I can't imagine that I'll be updating this blog again as it's now served its purpose. Thank you for reading and take care of yourself. I'm off for a pint.
Love and Fishes
Dave Denton
* That is, unless we're being literal and assume that one of the drunk people could be me. Then there's about a 0.015 chance of it happening.
