Indistinct

Dear reader (ha) , I bid you formal welcome to another sun packed fun packed instalment of 'mere' confessional writing and 'bitching about my day job'. To quote the neo-redoubtable Russ Meyer (I wonder if he did have this put on his head stone after all) "I was glad to do it". In the light of the hoo-hah re the Blooker prize I intend to turn this here tribute to grand scale waste and macro navel gazing into a witty, entertaining and informative coffee table book on my life affirming quest to grow the perfect courgette. Anyway, after Saturday's seeming proximity to a kind of meltdown Sunday saw moments of slight psychological upturn I reckon. Maybe it started on Saturday night. Finished 'The Last Picture Show'. I loved it. I like a bit of 'the goddamned regret' washed down with windswept longing of an evening and there's bags of it on display here. Of course this fillim set one o' thae benchmarks for this kinda thing. It's obviously seen as a classic and rightly so I think...but I really wish there was more of both Sam The Lion and of Ellen Burstyn's character. She's great in this, as she is in most things, but doesn't get anywhere near enough to do. Ditto the infeasibly grizzled Ben Johnson (no not the 'Crazy Canuck' drugs cheat but the John Ford veteran). He won an Oscar despite only being on screen for about 5 minutes. It's a 'dignified and poignant' 5 mins but still...and no that yon statuettes mean anything anyway but hell...If I was old Bogdan I would have stopped nobbing the 19 yr old Cybill Shepherd for a wee while, got rid of some Timothy Bottoms stuff and put in a bit more o' the older folk cause they're all great and way mair interesting than Sunny and Duane imo...that's an absurd paragraph or 2...Phillip French will be coming after me with a blunt instrument any minute now...This could be another idea for a serious ie fat provincial nobody tells the finest film makers of the world 'the score'. That would be quite something. Aye, what I want is mair quirky violence and mair stunts done wi' thae harness things. That's what I want to see...or that's what I think 'the world' expects me to want...I suppose you would expect me to put 'breasts' in as well tho'... acht well. That passage has just served up another sighting of 'my limitations'. I don't find reading it back to be a hugely invigorating spectacle. I suppose it is 'affirmation' of a kind re what I really am and all but as ma father would say (usually re the fare to be had at Stark's Park, Kirkcaldy of a Saturday afternoon) "that's fuckin' savage amusement son, savage amusement". I feel at this point I have to share another of my faves of his with you. Whenever he's talking of somebody who 'likes a drink' he adopts an arch tone of voice and says "aye, they dinnae neglect themselves". Shit I'm on a roll now. Another one from his repertoire is "aye, he's got alcoholic constipation. He cannae pass a pub". When I think of these I start to think of odd wee epithets that he puts in ma birthday cairds and on messages and I weigh them against all the times I've hated him for being a 'man's man' and for doing his own thing and for being a joke as a husband and not much of a dad for the first 18 or so years o' ma life and I think better of him. Maybe he is human and not 'all too human' after all. Ya dig? So, moving on, Sat night movie (that's another dating site staple isn't it? Aye, I like cuddling up with a DVD and a nice bottle of wine of an evening...pah...the world of the virill. There are times when I want nothing of it, he says..to himself...) in the shithole turned into Sunday morning dozing. Aimless again but got a call frae KB. He fired through and we had a guid day. Plenty of chat. Chat with KB is a great thing for me. He is one of the few people who truly KNOW me and I tend to feel that we're on the same wavelength when we talk. Having that feeling o' closeness is almost alien what with a' thae self imposed 'connection' issues and a' that. A fine stroll through the big city vibes. I couldn't stop thinking about how different Edin is on a Sunday compared to Kirkcaldy where it all appears to stop. When I lived there I felt that there were nae possibilities available to be exhausted in terms of 'passing the time' there and particularly not on a Sunday. On that day even mair than others there appeared to be no great culture of doing anything either. On a Sunday you mope around wearing tracky bottoms and bemoaning the fact you've to work the morn. You might go to see the latest entry in the 'Miss Congeniality' series at the one multiplex which covers the entire kingdom but you'll be half asleep when you're watching it, heavily troubled by heartburn from yer meal at 'The Italian' the night before. I kid you not, that is the actual name of an Italian eaterie in Kdy. it seems to have a sponsorship deal with the local pipper. Every week you see a different 'typical couple' photographed mid meal in there. As advertising features go it lacks a certain elan but then again that's Fife you're talking about. 'A social life' means drinking and then going to 'Jacks' on a Saturday night for more drinking. You drink 'awhong' down wi' a huge chaser of despair. It eats you up. It totally did for me., The feeling that there was no entertainment, no transport, no escape, nobody who understood you, no like minded people, nothing but laziness and replicas of the Paulsgrove estate and the accompanying mentality. Thugs high on The Daily Record and 'Bud' (pronounced Bud-visor of course). All you had was a endless Sunday night and the mad rush to buy 10 cartons of Pringles from the David Sands before it shut. My whole life I've had a fear of that Sunday feeling. Enforced laziness. Emptyness. Nothing open. No avenues. No outlets. A world of the status quo where folk were too damned lazy to fight against anything. They accepted closure after closure of their facilities. Acht as long as theres a corner shop. We've got the telly. Fucking television...that's all you do in Fife. Stay in and watch the telly. Make do and mend. Put up with it. Endure. Learn to accept. Shit I have to stop thinking about it. I've got an image of Cowdenbeath High Street wrapping itsel round my brain as I write this. I can hear the rattle of the wind blowing the 'Moltke McLean Chemist' sign on any Sunday night in Kinghorn where my folks stay tae. Utter desolation. Nobody leaves the house. Why would they? Where are they all? Watching 'You've Been Framed' and bemoaning their lot. Oh fuck I've got anothershit day at 'Logomotives'/ Strand Lighting' the morn. Then I've got to take 'the bairn' to Tae Kwon Do at the Lochgelly Centre. These fucking ways of life. When I die it will of course 'be with a drink in my hand' but then afterwards if I ever find that any part of my remains or the post match bash had any connection wi' Fife, I'll force myself back 'to be one mile high and I would kill you all'. So there...I'd better move on...Left KB. He went back to Kdy (!) and I pondered for a while before breaking the bank to see Mark Eitzel. This guy is another of thae 'neo-hero' figures that I have. Some of the words he's strung together over the years mark him as genius. His songs are heartbreaking, wrenching, funny, bittersweet, mordant, bitter. Go check him out yersel but..his music's meant a fair bit to me, particuarly the 'Songs Of Love-Live ' LP. I suppose I should give ye a few quotes to let you know why I dig him so much...'There's nothing for me in the world outside. There's just some things that I see from the side. I'm just a shy boy sitting in a house when everyone is gone from now on' or how about 'Caught a small scene on my mom's TV. She watched it when she was lonely at night. Oh God I hate you. Telling me what's gonna happen the rest of my life' Aye. Anyway. I saw him play a stunning show in Edinburgh last year. I'd been waiting to see him on his own without a band for years and years and the experience of finally seeing itwas something. Sunday wasn't quite the same but was still great. The man comes across as part wreck, part sussed performer and sometimes the self deprecation and the self consciousness took over tonight. He coasted with some songs and played a lot of material that he seemed a bit fed up with as well as some things he didn't seem familiar with at all. Highlights were an intense snarly version of the seminal 'Patriot's Heart' and a rather lovely cover of 'Heart and Soul' which I've heard him play before but which is still perfect for him to do. He brings out all the bitterness therein... I would have liked him to slip the reins more but he didn't always appear in the mood to take off as he did last year. There was a different tone to the show but it still was a far better one than most sets you'll see. I spoke to him too- twice. He asked what the time was. I was standing right in front of him so I told him. He looked in my direction. I liked that. I requested a song too. I said 'could you do 'Take Courage'? He apologised but said he didn't know it. He started playing a bit but gave up. A shimm...'Take courage Take courage said the sign. I used to wait for it every morning but now I know that it was just another warning' Indeed. I felt my mood lift after this. True the support band were shite (and their student pals were everywhere too. Their guest list was never ending) and I paid £14 for an hours entertainment (that's just wrong) but I got 'something' out of it and no doubt. I walked up the road. I was in an odd mood. Felt ok and wasn't thinking too much about TLK. I even felt a whiff of possibility for 5 mins, I really did. Was thinking about the power of lovelorn, deep, piquant songwriting. Conventional as a thought of this ilk may be, I didn't care....went back to the shithole and had a settled night...Mon..felt the drifting kick in. Why can't I cast off these habits? I live up to the expectations for someone of my size ie to be literally weighed down by ballast. I give in to it so easily. Got a call from the Agency I applied to last week. They wanted to cancel the interview til Thur. I was ok with it. It gave me more time to waste. I noticed halfway through the day that the frequency of the 0870 calls had slowed. One of the financial institutions finally left a message and a txt. It was clear as mud. I didn't respond. Nae further cals since then. Maybe the heavy squad are on their way. Just as well I didn't tell them my new address then. Thought re what to do to make something of the day. Didn't have much money. Managed to arrange an overdraft facility with the new bank..what the???....went to see The Three Burials of etc etc at The Cameo...there were too many couples there as is ayways the case when you go to to see a fillim at night. How many times have I told you all this? It comes up every time. I've had enough of all the whispering when I come into the cinema aisle ie virill female says to virill male "I hope he doesn't sit there". I wish they'd realise that my hearing this virtually guarantees I will sit there right in front of them just to annoy the bastards. Obviously being from 'a certain class' they will be too polite to tell me to move and will instead, in certain ways, mostly through further chatting within earshot of me, imply that I should move.. well hear's my stock reply: "I don't think so"...Didn't like the fillim. It was empty and showy. Some of the acting was poor. Notably Barry 'Cec' Pepper tho' old Tommy Lee's character wasn't the most fully sketched I've ever seen either. Some weird stuff in there. Some characters drop out without warning and there are moments of ropy contrivance. It just didn't seem 'right' to me. No amount of lovely shots of canyons and mountain goats could pull it oot the mire. I walked up the road. It seemed a dark night. Back to midwinter. My mood sank to meet it. I'll be seeing TLK again in a few hours. I'll have to face work and all that goes with it. My mood was further tried by the presence of a couple snogging directly ootside ma front door when I got back tae the shithole. It's a ground floor flat with a front door directly off the street into the room. I get very sheepish re opening the door if there's folk outside. They'll see the squalor and all the peculiarities. Took a coupla laps round the block. They were still there. Wandered along Gorgie. This takes me near to where TLK's best pal stays. Whenever I'm along that way it makes me think of her. I could have done without this. Made a sharp turn and headed back before ma head exploded. The osculatory swine were gone. I shut the door behind me. Tuesday was just off kilter and off key. The world was awry. Sprinkly squally showers. Biting wind. Sunshine. Gorging on chocolate. TLK. TLK. TLK. I went in to the work feeling like fucking shit. Didn't want to be there. Didn't want to face anything. Nobody in when I arrived. The phone went in the office. I told it to fuck off. It didn't listen. I ignored it twice. Not 'recommended' employee conduct of course. It was TLK. She had her professional voice on. She was with a client. A bit of an emergency again. I went doon and helped her. She was on good form again. This annoyed me even more. The recollection of her ever changing mood last week twisted my mind into new levels. I got bullish. I got stupid. I couldn't bear to be nice to her, to speak to her normally. I was going to be nasty. I would show her. I did a lot of grunting. I conversed a wee bit re work but just couldn't talk 'normally' to her if she asked anything outside of that. She inquired "Did you have a good weekend?" I didn't know what to say. I said " what?" or "eh..?" or something in between the two. She continued anyway. "Did you do anything special?" I laughed, said "anything special?" and walked off. Of course doing things like this to TLK are just utterly stupid. She didn't bat an eyelid. It would have come across as manipulative and subconsciously and a bit fully consciously too, it was. I wanted her to ask me if I was ok, maybe I was trying to force her into this to make some kind of point. What a stupid bastard I am. She kept trying. Not sure whether she just wanted to seem as if she was being pally or she was being pally. It's impossible to tell with her. She pretended to spray me with some cleaner she had in her hand. I forced a smile and tried to make it look like I was forcing it. The day progressed in this vein. She kept being 'nice' most of the day with just a wee bit of frostyness in her usual style when ever I forgot my sulk and got more friendly. I felt terrible all day. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to keep being grumpy. It was all I felt capable of. I wasn't quite as bad with other folk. I'm sure she noticed that. I didn't say anything to her during the team meeting we had in the afternoon. I looked away as much as I could, difficult to do when you want to look at her face all the time but I managed it. I spoke as little as possible. I didn't respond when she said anything remotely friendly. After other folk had gone she said "you seem down today". Don't think she actually specifically asked if I was ok but kind of implied it in her usual ultra cool way. I just grunted. She said "you're not a happy bunny. Are you going to talk to anyone?" I fucking hated this. I nearly exploded inside and choked on all my self pity and forced bile. It was yet more detachment from her. "I want to talk to you". That's what I was dying to say but I just laughed and sneered "talk to someone?". This ended the conversation. I felt like a total arsehole which was what I had been all day. I was furious at her for reasons unknown even to me. Her reserve and fucking poise are just driving me up the wall. She's in control at all times. I hate it. I miss talking to her. I miss the times of thinking we were pals even if we weren't. I miss drinking with her. I miss her. It's impossible for me to spend time with her now for the good of my health. I know it. She knows it, I think or does she? The rest of the day seemed to last forever. Tedious work. Pen pushing. Also noticed a nippy message from the boss. I wanted to smash up the office but made do with bouncing an eraser off the message board a few times. It made a nice dead sound. Went out and saw a few clients. Came back and there was a message on the machine from her. I phoned her back. I wanted it to be about something personal like I had never wanted anything to that extent before. It wasn't. She had got pee from a client's catheter bag in her eye earlier. It had started giving her gyp. She asked if I could leave a msg saying she would be in late tomorrow so she could buy some eyewash. Pure farce. That was the end of the conversation. I was civil, I guess. The situ I had got masel into was a total shambles. I started to laugh after she hung up but just ended up greetin. What am I doing? Racing back towards insanity, that's what. The tendrils thereof delayed my writing of notes so that I went about an hour over ma time. I hate this fucking life. DT said that to me a lot when he was dying. I've said it a lot to masel. Wasn't sure where to go. A takeaway seemed a good bet. ISH phoned. It was well timed. We spoke for a long while as I walked about ostensibly trying to find Morningside just cause I knew it was leafy and a bit boho. Ended up in an industrial wasteland somewhere in Slateford. I have never seen so many railway arches in one place at the same time. It seemed like a scene from 'Naked'. Schemies were all over the pliss too. ISH always has plenty of interest to say. I don't think I did last night but he was unfailingly polite as ever. It was good to hear from him. We don't talk enough. Communication issues seem to be my speciality. I was going to say that that is just a current thing but it's always been thus. Ended up back in Gorgie. TLK reappeared in my mind. I didn't want her there...well I did but I pretended to block out all thoughts of her. That's the way my mind works most of the time. Up far too early today to go to Glasgow for another workshop re the SVQ charade. Not doing any work on this and am 'currently suspended' anyway (don't ask). The subject matter, ironically enough, was 'personal development'. Fucking hell. I think I sat through it for the duration but I can't guarantee that. I quite simply wasn't there. I was thinking about other things ALL THE TIME. It was so dull and appeared irrelevant to me. The tutor asked me a question from time to time. I was thinking about you know who whenever she asked them. I think I managed to answer her. I can't remember. I'm not sure I was there at all. Or maybe I was. I recall seeing the 'chief exec' (it appears I in fact work for UniLever PLC) in the office wearing a natty off the shoulder dress. It was 9.40 AM. Just another day in the office. She didn't speak to us unfortunate minions. I was dying to ask her how she would manage on £1,039 (approx) per month but of course...Intended to hang around after and go to Mono for a while. Felt some financial pangs and got bewildered. I got the train back. I needed some seclusion and to nod off for a while. I got on the slow train. There's never anyone on it and it stops everywhere. It's very slow. It turned out that the carriage was overrun with schemies in Celtic beanies. I fell asleep anyway. Thankfully none of them tried to set me on fire when I was asleep. All the time I was away today I ate. I've done it constantly for the last few days in fact. I feel ravenous all the time. I ate 2 pasties and at least 3 chocolate bars today plus other junk later on. I shall soon be at the level where they have to knock the wall of the shithole down to get me out of here after my inevitable infarction. Came back. Whacked off for a while (sorry...). It was totally unsatisfying...no really. Agreed to meet CH later. We chatted for a good while. I drank Hot Chocolates...more bulk...I felt very manic. I was fried. Restlessness was at large. Made it back near to the shithole. Went to old Maisie Mossco's for a while. Chloe Sevigny wasn't there. Neither was I...