White Lie [A lie of little importance, especially one told in order to be tactful or polite]

Had the obligatory phone conversation with my mother this week. Usually try to speak to her about once a month if I can remember to (or bare it). My mother talks a lot. In these ‘catch up’ calls it feels as though she truly believes that she must tell me about every single thing that she has done or thought of since the last time we spoke. I don’t bemoan these conversations, she is after all my mother and I don’t see her very often, so it’s almost a ritual of sorts now.

Obviously she asks me how I am; Obviously I say I’m fine. There’s something about that question that really grates on me. Mostly it seems when people ask it of me, I am in fact NOT all right. And it’s the kind of question that in most cases people don’t really want to hear the answer to anyway. To be honest my mother is probably a bad example because she honestly does want to know how I am, but then again if we start off down that route on one of our calls then god knows how long I might end up trapped on the phone. But in most cases (my mother withstanding) people just don’t consider the possible consequences of asking such a question.

I do my best not to ask people how they are unless I actually want to know the answer, for better or worse. Maybe if i continue in this vain those people whom I strategically don’t ask, will one day stop asking me.

Of course in some cases it’s unavoidable, the white lie is necessary to smooth over the potentially nasty pothole that such a conversation starter could lead to. Such is the custom, and long lived & learned a custom it is too.

In case you haven’t quite guessed, yes I’m still in a bad mood : )

Radio Silence [a status in which all fixed or mobile units capable of transmitting a radio signal in the area cease transmission]

I am now in what is officially known as a bad mood, or ‘Funk’ seeing as it’s a protracted bad mood which is extending over many days and is colouring everything I do.

In this state, I don’t want to do anything or see/speak to anyone unnecessary. Unfortunately I have to go to work, which is a shame. Outside of that contractual obligation though I am trying to avoid contact with all non-essential humans wherever possible.

This is partially (but not completely) due to the fact that I have serious tooth ache. I mean I’ve had tooth ache before, I’m an old pro in this area in fact. To be honest I’ve been having problems with my wisdom teeth for well over a year now, but the ‘Ache’ has just escalated to a whole new level, and I’m in a constant state of controlled anguish. I also have trouble opening my mouth beyond the slightest pursed effort.

That is all.

Memory [the cognitive processes whereby past experience is remembered]

At the weekend I popped down to brighton again, seem to have been down there a lot recently. The point of the trip, besides catching up with everyone, was to go and see MSTRKRFT play the ocean rooms saturday night.

To cut a rather long story as short as possible; We all got fucked and went to MSTRKRFT, we got more fucked whilst we were there. From this point on I can remember very little (bar some unwelcome snippets which i will recount shortly), I awoke the next day in Cliff’s bed with little idea how I got there and slowly came to the realisation that I had lost my phone. Not only had I lost my phone, but I had also lost my digital camera. The very same digital camera that i had purchased approximately 24 hours earlier for approx 130 quid. Not good.

Throughout the rest of the day my friends took delight in filling in the blanks for me and told me wild tales of my antics the night before. These included;

Falling over and onto a girl sitting minding her own business (and then just walking off, instructing my friend to apologise on my behalf).

Ordering a large round that we absolutely did not need and then proceeding to try and pay for it with only a five pound note (One of my friends begrudgingly came to my rescue and paid for the rest).

Spilling a pint over the barman.

Spending a substantial part of the night staring directly at a wall (with my nose about an inch from it).

Making it my personal mission to ensure that a complete stranger was wearing his backpack correctly (apparently I wasn’t satisfied with him just using a single shoulder strap and just wouldn’t let it go).

I can remember nothing but mere flashes of just a couple of these things, and as for my phone and camera I had absolutely no idea what happened to them. We left messages at the club and asked around if anyone had found it etc, but alas it seems these items are gone for good.

I’ll be honest, I am not over the moon about it. Losing my phone is bad enough, but losing the fucking camera I’d only just bought is just a joke. And on top of this, personally I really do not liked getting so fucked that i can’t remember anything. Usually I am the one who looks after one of my friends whilst they go bananas etc and then tell I them all about it the next day. In-fact it’s happened that way several times recently, but not the other way round. Years ago it was common place for me to black out and have no memory of what happened on a night out, but these days the loss of control that it denotes is not something I relish.

And in this case the ‘loss of control’ is heavily underlined by my phone going missing etc.

Don’t get me wrong, i can look at the funny side of it and laugh with my friends etc (and it is a fucking funny story), but I certainly regret it and do not plan on letting it happen again any time soon if i can help it.