nunoncastors

I’ve been conspicuous by my absence these past few weeks and I feel you guys ‘n gals deserve a missive explaining away my neglect of you, the people in the internet. Unfortunately there’s no real excuse outside of a sense that, in many ways, I’m a more sociable person in my current incarnation. No. Don’t laugh; it’s true. I can almost bring myself to enjoy the company of new people without judging them in a bitter and off-hand way. This is a significant development as far as I’m concerned and, in a more global context, probably the biggest leap towards peace on earth we’ll ever see in our lifetimes. I don’t want to over-egg the pudding you understand, but global harmony is now just around the corner. Consequently I’ve been spending a lot of time “outside” socialising and making the planet a better place to be.

It must be said that outside was a place I had previously thought contained only man-eating bears and soul destroying woes; a veritable cornucopia of discomfort and people who insist on bothering me. This remains evident. Yet, whilst the various social quagmires and topological nightmares still exist, I find I no longer object to their presence with the same vehemence as once I did. I have very nearly come to love Big Brother (in the Orwellian sense) and accept things as they are.

I’m really quite happy all in all.

I digress. I’ve been absent from the interweb because, essentially, I’ve been too busy to make time for it. This is a shame as there’s a forum full of excellent people out there with whom I really do need to catch up. Making new friends and then not speaking to them for a month on the premise of “being busy” is a very poor showing on my part. Especially when you consider the monumental piss-up we had. It is quite simply however, the truth.

Sorry about that.

No doubt you’re a doubter. You’re like Thomas in that book about the guy who is nailed to a cross for being nice to people. You want details don’t you? Proof, examples, that sort of thing. You want to know what I’ve been up to and with whom.

Fine.

Around a month ago I did two things that, on the surface, were not entirely sensible. Both involved being in the middle of nowhere for a weekend with people I’d either never met or only vaguely knew. In order to ensure that my prospective errors were compounded in such a way as to provide maximum horror if things went wrong one group of people were comprised solely of folk who post to an internet forum I frequent. That’s right, I met people off of the interweb in the middle of Yorkshire and didn’t tell anyone where I was going, why or with whom. I left myself wide open for murder, molestation and other things that are less pleasant than that.

As it turns out, not all the people off of the interweb want to rape you and leave you dying at the bottom of a gorge. The ones I met just wanted to ply me with booze and food and genial conversation. Some of them do bite, that much is true; while others will insist that you bong a beer, shout WOOHOO and then let them wave a sword at you but I feel that this is fair enough. I even got to go to a medieval banquet though, due to an error in judgement on my part; I was incorrectly attired and felt like a bit of a tit. Still, food, booze, hi-jinx and venison stew are not a bad return for taking a leap of faith and meeting strangers in a barn somewhere in Yorkshire.

All in all, it turns out that meeting people off of the interweb can be quite an enjoyable experience despite the inherent risks and worries. I must, of course, say hats off to all those who made my gamble worthwhile and a big thank you to those who organised the whole shebang. It must be said that without the organisers it would most probably have been a very different weekend. I almost certainly wouldn’t have waded a river or been privy to the meaning of the word “flangical” for a start.

Basically what I’m saying is this. Meeting people in the real world that you’ve met online is fun provided you’re sensible and there are precautions in place. If you’re a six foot two, fifteen stone man you’re probably going to be ok, if you’re a twelve year old girl you’re probably not. If the people you’re meeting insist you be over eighteen, have spoken to at least one of them on the phone and be able to back up both your age and appearance with a recent photo you’re going to be a lot better off than if they just want to see you in your pants and talk dirty.

Not that that didn’t happen.

The other curious camping trip was much the same with the only difference being that I’d met a few of the people present and none of them were interweb folk. It was nowhere near as entertaining; no pub quizzes delivered by a monk for a start.

That covers two weekends but what of the rest? Well, I moved house. More importantly, the salient point I suppose, is that I’ve moved house into a building with three friends as opposed to complete strangers. I’ve moved into a house with my two oldest friends and Paul in fact. I haven’t known Paul for as long as Gareth and Duncan but he happens to be an excellent chap all the same. Those of you in the know will realise that this makes my new house an all boy house, a lad’s house.

This is an exciting prospect I’m sure you’ll agree.

Those of you even more in the know will realise that Gareth, Duncan and I have a history of doing stupid, drink-fuelled, things such as trapping ourselves in the grounds of a lighthouse or, say, trawling the streets of Amsterdam looking for biscuits. Eventful times are afoot.

Though, that said, we’ve only had two parties that lasted until six in the morning and nothing particularly stupid has happened at either. There was a bedroom incident that I am forsworn from describing on the grounds of courtesy but aside from that we’ve been quite sensible. The level of conversation tends to be either sordid and blokeish or about food, football and beer. Surprisingly the house is not a tip yet.

We do seem to use a lot of toilet roll however.

Moving house, it must be said, is a very time consuming activity and, once moved, unpacking tends to be more so. I’ve no idea why once you’ve moved you appear to have more belongings than when you started but it is most definitely the case. Currently I have a small mound of objects that I have nowhere to put and no meaningful recollection of ever having purchased or received. It is as though the act of moving house causes detritus to spring up and attach itself to you unawares like some vast unwieldy tick. Mounds of miscellany aside, I am now almost settled though, curiously, I do have a large amount of ironing to do. Such is life I suppose. Fortunately ironing, like so many other trifles, registers barely a blip on my radar these days as things are currently good. I have my health, my friends and a healthy appetite for nights on the town.

Therein lays the problem. I’m struggling to find time to sit down and pontificate with my usual aplomb in this current air of bonhomie and café living. I awake, depart to work on my bicycle, return, eat and then split my evenings between visits to the gym, games of squash and badminton or evenings out with friends. It’s nice, fantastic even, but I’m conscious that my online life is suffering.

My online life. When you think about it that’s quite a curious idea isn’t it; that I should consider my abstract presence on the interweb a social presence in the same sense that I would consider my attending a party social act. Nonetheless it is true, trite and hackneyed as this observation is, that most of us have an online life. We have friends we’ve never met yet have perhaps confided in more than the childhood friend who lives next door.

A good example of this would be jez. Now I’ve no idea who jez is, I’ve never met jez and, so far as I know, I’ve never had an in depth chat with jez about how we’re both feeling and so on and so forth. The other day however jez posted a comment on this site to say “hello to James” presumably because I’ve been silent for so long. I think this is rather a nice thing to happen considering we’re both complete strangers.

Likewise, on the lone forum to which I post, folk have been enquiring after me to see if I’m ok. I’ve met a few of these people at the aforementioned piss-up but many of them I’ve only ever spoken to on the forums and their concern is rather touching.

My response however has been ongoing silence for the past month which, in all honesty, is very rude of me. I promise however that this will be changing forthwith as I endeavour to make time for the interweb, source of so much excellent porn, and try to catch up with my virtual and semi-virtual friends. Apologies all round.

I think that just about covers the main events of recent weeks. Next on the agenda is a video evening with Pin (possibly) and a trip to the theatre. I think Notts County are at home this weekend so I might make my way down to Meadow Lane and watch the football if the weather’s nice. It isn’t high-living I know, but it is pleasant living.

So, we’re all up to date now. My explanations have been made and my reasons revealed. Do you, the people of the interweb, have any questions or comments or is there something I can do to appease you?

Actually, what have you been up to this past month?