Alasdair Watson

Well, Tart, at least. Sequential Tart to be exact. I’ve fallen out of the habit of mentioning it on here when they update, which I never intended to do, because they’re one of the best comics websites going, and you ought to be paying them attention. Particularly to Barb Lien-Cooper’s interview with Grant Morrison this month, which is ace, even on a quick skim. I’m planning to sit down and it read closely this evening, before an early night.

I should be back on-line by this time tomorrow, so I’ll post this then. I’ve made some headway on the unpacking tonight – the kitchen is almost completely sorted out and indeed, stocked with some food – god knows what I’m going to do with all this cupboard and fridge space. I’m sitting here, surrounded by boxes, drinking a chilled cherry beer, reading a few web pages I saved at work today. I’m going to see Jason X tonight, because no-one else I know is going to want to see it, and I feel the need to take advantage of living five minutes walk from a cinema.

Anyway, time to get back to reading.

Or unpacking, I suppose. But y’know, I think I like this new home business. It’s a bit quiet, and I suspect that there’ll be times I’ll miss the company, having been used to living with good friends, but still…

I move house tomorrow. Unitl I have at least a phone, and ADSL if possible sorted for my new place, I’ll be functionally off line. I’ll be able to scan my mail, and reply to anything that only needs a short response in my lunch break at work, but other than than, you can expect that I’ll be offline until mid next week, at the earliest. I’ll see you then, folks.

A friend of mine (who may be reading this, for all I know) wrote the following: “Now I’m single, I should be getting out more.”

My reaction to this will surprise no-one, of course: why? I’m assuming (and with this friend, there’s a fair chance that I could be off-base here) that the basic intent is to try and not be single again. Yeah, I know I’m weird about the whole attitude to being single thing. But still – I don’t get the whole “go out when you’re single, stay in when you’re in a couple” thing and I know a.load of folk who’ve done this – been absolute club/pub/party monsters, right up until they found themselves in a relationship, then their attitude became “I’ve already pulled, why do I need to do that?” Which kind of suggests to me that they didn’t much want to be doing it in the first place. And if that’s the case, why do it at all? Surely you’d be better off meeting someone in a place that the natural pace of life leads you to – doesn’t that suggest that you’re more likely to have something in common? Why do something you don’t like?

Christ, I dunno. You humans are all far to weird. Do what you like not what you feel you need to do, that’s what I say…

First day in the new job. The commute is hellish, but I only have to deal with a week of it, so I’ll live. Spent today setting up my machine, and looking at their systems. Will get stuck into the actual work tomorrow. Now, dinner and packing.

It’s almost 4 am, and I’m quite drunk. Therefore, the most drunken song that I know:

“As I went down through Glasgow city
Just to see what I might spy
What should I see but Nancy Whiskey
A playful twinkle in her eye

Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Ohh

I bought her, I drank her, I had another
Ran out of money, so I did steal
She ran me ragged, Nancy Whiskey
For seven years, a rollin’ wheel

Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Ohh

The more I held her, the more I loved her
Nancy had her spell on me
All I knew was lovely Nancy
The things I needed I could not see

Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Ohh

As I awoke to slake my thirst
As I tried crawling from my bed
I fell down flat, I could not stagger
Nancy had me by the legs

Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Ohh

Come on landlandy, what’s the owing
Tell me what there is to pay
Fifteen shillings that’s the reckoning
Now pay me quickly and go away

Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Ohh
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Ohh”

It’s almost 4 am, and I’m quite drunk. Therefore, the most sentimental song that I know:

“Long years ago I fell in love
With a lady proud and fair
So passionate were she and I
We made fire in the air
I loved her more than life itself
She loved me just the same
And it broke my heart
To think we’d part if she ended the affair

But I was brutal, I was ignorant
I was cruel I was brash
I never gave a damn about
The beauty that I smashed
No sadist I, I took delight
In making my Love cry
Now I’d pray for a single kiss from her
To be lashed and crucified

And now I feel this lady fair
Can never more be mine
Long gone are night in my lonely bed
All suffering and crying
And though I fear that through this life
She’ll only call me friend
‘Till I’m dead and buried in my grave
My Love will never end”

Apparrently so. Fin was complaining that I haven’t said anything in a day or two, so here’s something. The process of packing continues. All the quick jobs are done, now it’s the slow and time consuming stuff left to do. I’ve also discovered that almost all my shelves are very, very dusty.

I’m looking covetously at the office furnishings from Space2 again – I’m going to be slowly phasing out all my old furniture and replacing it with warmer wood tones over the next while – I’m tired of black ash, and I’m tired of bookshelves that cost a tenner and look like it. And besides, my new place is painted in whites, so the black’s going to look awfully stark…

Other than that, not a whole lot to report. New job starts Monday, so y’know, fear and apprehension, or something. Oh, I’m sure it’ll amuse people to know that there’s a dresscode that precludes wearing offensive t-shirts, so I’m going to have to go out any buy some more plain black T-shirts, because I don’t own very many t-shirts without some kind of slogan on them. Even if the slogans themselves aren’t offensive, I don’t want to push my luck. Not at first, anyway… :)

My flatmate Andrew now has a livejournal, which I urge you all to pay attention to, partly because it might make him say more things (or might frighten him off) and mostly because it’s bound to be funnier and more interesting than mine.

Depressing thought: once I move out, I will probably find out more about almost all my friends lives on-line than I do when I see them in person. The last few people in my life that I have more contact with face to face than digitally will no longer be resident in the same house.

And they’re about the only people I could put up with living with (or indeed could put with living with me), as well. I’m not planning to have flatmates ever again. Ah well. It’s the digital life for me…