It doesn't matter what it is... flash trainers, trendy jeans, mobile phones, games consoles, laptops, smart phones, tablets... I was then, and am even now, the last one to get the cool, new thing.
When I was at high school everyone had the Head sports bag for a school bag. I don't remember how much they cost, but I didn't have one until my last year of high school, by which point they were commonplace and not all that cool anymore.
During the same time, everyone who was anyone wore Levi's 501s. Again, I was the last one to have a pair and, by the time I did, I had left school and the people I hung around with were working and had the money for cooler clothes than me, anyway.
My first mobile phone was a hideous Motorola brick from 1995, by which time, my friends had much nicer phones that mine. I got a PlayStation when everyone else was splurging on the PS2; a very nice stereo with multiple cd changer when everyone was switiching to iPod; a laptop when everyone I knew had one half the size and weight and got my first smart phone - the Samsung Galaxy S3 mini - the day before the Samsung Galaxy S5 came out (but most of my friends had an iPhone 5).
Thankfully, it doesn't bother me too much not being able to afford these things when they are shiny, new gadgets or fashions, but I guess what I am trying to say is that if I had the money, then I would probably be one of those people who pre-orders these delightful things.
Is it possible to think of yourself as materialistic when you can wait for things? Or have I just been conditioned into patience through my own fiscal shortcomings?
I don't mind not even having the latest model or shiniest, new item now...
...but, I have thoroughly enjoyed sitting here in a coffee shop, writing this blog post on my iPad Air with the gorgeous keyboard/cover that I got for Christmas. For now, I'm more than contented to be the cat that has gotten some of the cream before it's all gone.
Tuesday 27 January 2015
Friday 16 January 2015
Why old people are grumpy
I have finally figured it out. The reason that kids always think old people are grumpy and boring is because they are - everyone knows this.
I have figured out what it is that makes it so difficult to be the same happy person you were when you were a child.
When the 1st of January ticks around, people, usually, are filled with a sense of blessed renewal. Some people have become cynical to this, I know, but for most of us it's the same.
As the year begins, I start to think of what I am going to do and maybe what projects I have coming up. Possibly even who's birthdays are soon. It was this that made me realise why I am not the fun-
loving happy, smiley child I once was.
The answer is anniversaries. Bad ones. Once March begins, so does my annual cycle of things I would rather not have to remember. The anniversary of my Pop dying. The anniversary of my Gran dying. What should have been my wedding anniversary... etc., etc., etc.
As the years go by, our lives get filled with some wonderful memories, but also the events that break our hearts too. The older you get, the more of them there will be.
If you're like me, then each year has some sunny days, a lot of grey days and some truly dark ones. There are people who are good at not thinking of such things or are, at the very least, good at not showing that they have any effect. I'm not one of those and I don't think that your average person in the street is either.
I think that everyone's year gets just that little bit darker as they get older, until you turn into something that barely resembles the child who lived mostly in the sunshine.
I will acknowledge that there are those people for who the light never really leaves them. My Pop, God rest his soul, was one of those. Even well into his eighties you could still see the kid inside and he was a very cheery and pleasant person to be around. Only the leukemia took that from him in the last couple years of his life, but that much is understandable.
This year I am going to try and combat this ever-growing number of dark days by making some very bright and sunny memories. Maybe that way, as I get older, my year will be more happy and bright and I will be able to ward off the darker days ahead.
I have figured out what it is that makes it so difficult to be the same happy person you were when you were a child.
When the 1st of January ticks around, people, usually, are filled with a sense of blessed renewal. Some people have become cynical to this, I know, but for most of us it's the same.
As the year begins, I start to think of what I am going to do and maybe what projects I have coming up. Possibly even who's birthdays are soon. It was this that made me realise why I am not the fun-
loving happy, smiley child I once was.
The answer is anniversaries. Bad ones. Once March begins, so does my annual cycle of things I would rather not have to remember. The anniversary of my Pop dying. The anniversary of my Gran dying. What should have been my wedding anniversary... etc., etc., etc.
As the years go by, our lives get filled with some wonderful memories, but also the events that break our hearts too. The older you get, the more of them there will be.
If you're like me, then each year has some sunny days, a lot of grey days and some truly dark ones. There are people who are good at not thinking of such things or are, at the very least, good at not showing that they have any effect. I'm not one of those and I don't think that your average person in the street is either.
I think that everyone's year gets just that little bit darker as they get older, until you turn into something that barely resembles the child who lived mostly in the sunshine.
I will acknowledge that there are those people for who the light never really leaves them. My Pop, God rest his soul, was one of those. Even well into his eighties you could still see the kid inside and he was a very cheery and pleasant person to be around. Only the leukemia took that from him in the last couple years of his life, but that much is understandable.
This year I am going to try and combat this ever-growing number of dark days by making some very bright and sunny memories. Maybe that way, as I get older, my year will be more happy and bright and I will be able to ward off the darker days ahead.
Thursday 8 January 2015
Doctor Who and the Clunk of Betrayal
I still remember the first time I saw the T.A.R.D.I.S.
There on that forbidden planet.
I knew the possibilities. I knew what could lie within; somehow I just knew.
I already knew all about The Doctor and the adventures he and his time-travelling sidekicks have. In that box of delights.
That's why I recognised the T.A.R.D.I.S. straight away.
That's why I knew I had to have it.
It has been in my possession for some time now, but I have never made it work the way the Doctor does. All it does is take up room in my house.
I have made good use of it, though.
I go in there sometimes.
The missus knows about it, but she doesn't approve if I visit it too often.
Getting in and out is fine, when she's not around... I can sometimes get in there and make a silent exit even if she's in the next room.
Tonight, when I thought she was fast asleep, I got in and out without making a sound, but as I was putting the lid back on, she heard the ceramic 'clunk' and woke up to berate me for yet another visit.
Betrayed, by the box of delights.
There on that forbidden planet.
I knew the possibilities. I knew what could lie within; somehow I just knew.
I already knew all about The Doctor and the adventures he and his time-travelling sidekicks have. In that box of delights.
That's why I recognised the T.A.R.D.I.S. straight away.
That's why I knew I had to have it.
It has been in my possession for some time now, but I have never made it work the way the Doctor does. All it does is take up room in my house.
I have made good use of it, though.
I go in there sometimes.
The missus knows about it, but she doesn't approve if I visit it too often.
Getting in and out is fine, when she's not around... I can sometimes get in there and make a silent exit even if she's in the next room.
Tonight, when I thought she was fast asleep, I got in and out without making a sound, but as I was putting the lid back on, she heard the ceramic 'clunk' and woke up to berate me for yet another visit.
Betrayed, by the box of delights.
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