Carte Postale - Farewell 2014

I've been telling myself I was going to write this for weeks.  Weeks and weeks and weeks... You get the point.

This is also a notice of temporary closure, of course.  I've been failing to keep a grip on my own self-imposed schedule for too long almost, although Christmas has a habit of doing that to you.  Notwithstanding the fact that I hate Christmas, having to be fucking jolly all the time, more the fact that there's just so much choir to deal with.  This year in particular has been particularly not stress free, what with the world premieres for the Advent Carol Service, the usual concert madness, and then another world first in filming Nine Lessons and Carols for DVD release (including the incredible disappearing red hat)... But then normal service resumed with Festal Curry, all the descants and what I can only describe as the Festival of English Cadences on Christmas Morning.  Honourable mention goes to the Lay Clerks of Peterborough Cathedral, who lost one of their own this Christmas, which must have been (and probably still is) nothing short of just... The worst.

It's impossible not to write something today without some kind of token comment about the year as well, so much so that I even anticipated it in the title.  2014 has been a weird one.  I lost one on my best mates.  I watched another one get married.  What is it with these caffeine shampoo adverts that are taking over my ad breaks?  It becomes increasingly difficult to think about this year clearly as we barrel towards the start of the next.  What's really happened?  I suppose the more relevant question is "what's going to happen next?".  I suppose you're expecting me to make some sort of list of resolutions?  Please.  There are a couple of things that I have to do, true, but it's not like I'm ever going to do anything so ridiculous as make a resolution.  The last resolution I made was never to make a New Year's resolution again, and that was 2009.  Yes, I really did that... 

Anyway.  Temporary closure.  I say closure.  I'm going to give publishing a rest for a fortnight officially, and try to just... Catch up on the schedule I tried to establish.  Every Christmas I let choir take over my life, so I fell behind.  There's also a theory knocking about that I've been quite seriously depressed (again), which I'd hardly like to comment on here and now.  I haven't written anything about the books I've read, and I owe somebody a recipe.  I also need to sort my life out (just like always).  New Year might be as good a time as any to do so, but what about all the other days of the year?  It's never too late.

The last blog I ran came to a natural end and fulfilled its purpose, a backdrop to being miserable in houses and having a dreadful time singing.  No choir director has accused me of lying again or since, thankfully.  This time, there isn't really a purpose, which is probably one of the reasons I've found it so easy to not write recently.  Such a poor excuse... I'm sorry, he said to himself.  I need to stop torturing myself.  I need to think hard about what's going to happen next, my immediate future and also my future at large: not an easy task.  I've never had a five year plan because five years is an impossibly long time for me to imagine.  In 17 days, I'll be 25, which means I'll have lived through five of these five year blocks, but it's okay because the digits add up to 7, which means everything will be alright... Right?  I remember giving something very precious on the 7th of the 7th.  That was good.  I didn't say half the things I meant to or I wanted to, and that was just that day, let alone all the others.

This is the first New Year since I moved out that I haven't been home.  I'm not sure that I like it really.  At least had I have gone back up, I could have sat in HQ until I was no longer sober.  This year... Money's tight.  Tighter than comfortable.  I shouldn't really go out drinking, could you imagine the money I'd hemorrhage!  Invites to parties and whatever are completely lacking, which tells me all I need to know. 

This is the last you'll hear from here for a little bit.  Give me a fortnight or something, but don't call it a comeback.  Think of me, sat drinking tea and pepsi, watching films and reading cookery books into eternity.  Focus your prayers and positive energy so I can discover my true purpose in this life.  Call on your Gods.  I recently bought this quality volume of hardcore pornography (right) - something to keep me warm through these lonely winter nights, of which much will be forthcoming.  If you're lucky, I might even make you a bagel.  Might.





Anyway, it's almost time.  There's just under 8 hours to go here until it breaks, and I can't wait, I can HARDLY CONTAIN MYSELF for another thrilling and exciting year to come, can you?  It can hardly be worse than this one (dangerous talk), can it?  

I'll see you on the other side.