I've been blogging quite a long time. I started in February 2002. I still love the tagline from Meg's old site: Life Unfolding.
I was going to write a whole load about how my life has unfolded since February 2002. Then I clicked the link above and realised that Meg, who's been blogging a lot longer than me, has completely changed her style of blogging. And I think of all the others who have changed or disappeared.
I tried a little experiment last week. Blogging from work is bad, because it distracts from the important thing one is supposed to be doing, but more crucially it can make for lousy copy. So rather than writing and publishing, I jotted down ideas to be worked up over the weekend. But the immediacy had gone. I deleted the post, then wondered if It had contained anything good. Ducks, definitely. It did mention the ducks. We have two ducks outside our office. Mallards. I'm not sure what they're doing there. But it's not really a blogpost, is it?
I was on the bus on Friday, going into town. It was just approaching Brixton (by The Fridge, for those who care) and there was an almighty thud. All those on the left nearside turned, as one, to peer out. I was on the right, offside. Some bloke said, "It's alright, he's not hurt..." As one we rose and went downstairs. The bus had hit a cyclist, who was sitting on the kerb, his bike splayed out in the gutter. He was upset and trembling but he was also very very angry. I suppose it might have been his fault, but I've been waiting for this to happen. When I first learnt to drive over twenty years ago, the first thing I was taught was 'check your mirrors and give cyclists a wide berth'. Apparently, this doesn't apply to bus-drivers.
I got the first bus that came and went up to Oval. My logic, if the bus I want is indicated, I'll get it, otherwise I'll get the Tube. But bus is better for where I was going. At Oval bus stop, police were chatting to two young men and a bus was parked up, empty. I think the young men were witnesses rather than The Accused. But it probably wasn't anything major because it was all very low key. And my bus came. It's not really a blogpost, though, is it.
I went shopping. If I was shopping type of person I suppose I could blog the details, the triumphs, the disasters, the bargains, the "how much...?". But you know, shopping isn't an activity. I know there are people who shop for fun or for the sake of shopping but not me. It's not even for the acquisition of objects of desire because they're not even that. They're just don't make me happy or improve my life. I wear them, because I want to be comfortable or look nice. But being comfortable or looking nice isn't the key to happiness or an end itself. And it's certainly not a blogpost.
And it's very irritating, but all week when I have been out and about there has been a total lack of arseholeness. Even the people who tried to stand near the door to the Tube train didn't entirely block my access. There was that idiot riding his stretched-out motorbike up-and-down the road at Old Leigh with massive engine noise but maybe he realised that people were laughing at him. Someone certainly had words. Attentions all very well, but it's always best to get the right sort of attention. Nah, the show-off antics of a social inadequate in need of being laid is not a blogpost, either.
So all I have left in my armoury is a total lack of a blogpost. Just read something off my blogroll and move along swiftly there.
