Hello folks, I feel as if it has been a long time since I've updated - should have really put up my thoughts pre-hospital but que sera.
Needless to say I am now out and so far, everything is going as planned - I HAVE TWO BOOBS! (Granted one of them is really bruised but it's a boob none the less!)
The operation was bigger than I imagined it would be. Eight and a half hours in surgery, two different procedures performed by two of the UK's (if not the worlds) most gifted surgeons. These men are geniuses. As opposed to getting a silicon implant they actually swung a muscle from my back, under my and along my ribs and layered it with tissue from my abdomen. This means that I will actually be able to 'workout' my right pec, which is incredible because a fortnight ago i didntt have one!
I was bed bound for five days under explicit insttrctionn not to move my arm - which basically meant i was stationary for 120 hours, easy enough?
Try it.
I have a new found understanding and respect for people who have to live that way. Day three was possibly the most depressing day of my life! But lets not get into that.
I cant move on without singing the praises of the nursing staff on Ward 48 - all of them, every single one! The care and compassion that they show each and every person that passes through that ward is incredible. It genuinely restores my faith in humanity when I think about how incredible they all are.
I have heard it said that "Doctors save lives, nurses save doctors". I dont think that is good emough. Nurses very rarely get given the respect they are due. They study to degree level, they spend the most time with the patient, apply the most amount of care and in my honest opinion, they have the biggest impact on the patients recovery.
I dont name names on my site, luckily I dont have to...
\Thank you all!
Right. Writery stuff now. I managed to hit most of my deadlines (though being bed bound didnt help!) and knocked a few hundred out here and there. Also read two books on screen writing and Assassin is really taking shape - it is quickly becoming my primary project now the manuscript is away!
Anyways, doing this all one handed (no my other hand is not doing that) so I will leave it at that just now. Hoppefully get some more strenth bback in my other arm and get some writing done next week!
Oh, by the way! What is the most random response you've ever received/given to the below questtion?
"Where do you see yourself in the future?"
...just curious lol, answers to my FB, Twitter or E-mail
Til next time folks,
"Take chances live for risks and follow your heart til it finds release. And know your dreams knnow no boundaries...they only lack belief!"
-SBP-
Wednesday 29 August 2012
Wednesday 8 August 2012
So there I was...
...suited and booted, nice shiny cufflinks gleaming in the sunshine and wearing a watch I'd never seen before.
It was a confusing moment staring at that watch, I noticed first that it didn't belong to me, and second that it's face was blank. But that didn't matter, there were punter's screaming at me cause the 14.55 was about to go off.
"Give me a monkey on McGarth's nag!" the man croaked. Flecks of spittle spraying the glass window between us as he brandishes liquorice lace in one hand and a copy of 'How to beat the bookies' in the other.
The liquorice lace throws me, I dont know how to ring that up through the till. People have tried to bet with all sorts before: cigarettes, beer, even had a guy try to barter with a bag full of aluminium cans, but never liquorice lace. I begin to explain that I do-
"nneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" The buzzer squeals in my ear. All bets are off, the horses are out of their stalls.
Only the buzzer doesn't stop, and there's no horses.
I turn and stare at the offending deep fat frier as a few loose fries float about the simmering tallow oil.
"neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"
Bugger me if thats not an annoying noise. I push one of the eight buttons, the buzzing stops. I lift the fries from the vat, they smell great when they are fresh. I swing them over to the fry station careful to avoid staining my suit, bugger the Ajax.
"Cheese call till two!" Now I laugh. The guy in kitchen must be near blind because the punter at till two is a dirty old man with no teeth and nicotine stained fingers, definiely not 'Cheese call' material. Only when I turn back around there is no punter, offending smell and liquorice lace gone as well. And there, right where he was stood a moment before, is a bonefied Cheese call. Definitely scoring a 9/10 on the too hot for apple pie hottie scale.
"Are you the manager?" she asks in a very posh southern accent. I look at my cufflinks.
Probably. I think.
"Because I have a problem with my subscription and I want to make a complaint!" Her words are venemous now. Two tills to my left the new start drops two shakes, thick red slush pooling on the floor. She runs off crying.
'Get a wet floor sign!' I yell. Worried the horses might slip and then there'll be a bloody law suit. Every one of these customers could be a 'mystery shopper' or the gambling commision...or the environmental health *gulp*
"What about my subscription!" The irate woman yells into her phone, her eyes boaring holes through the phoneline.
"Calm down Miss, now what was your post code?" I ask in my politest telephone voice as I speak through the microphone, only slightly freaked out by the sudden echo I hear in the headset I've been wearing all along.
"Post code! Post code! I'm from Canada!" she yells.
Of course she is.
I knew that.
"And I want to upgrade to the movie channels!" I press the button on the till as I say 'No Problem' its next to SuperSize me and MakeItLarge
"And I want the Crispy Chicken Caeser salad!" I panic because I think we've ran out but I smile at her anyway, she's definitely a Cheese call.
"And while your at it ill take even money on Dettori in the 16.45 steeple and for gods sake will you get me a security guard for tonight like I bloody asked!"
I know its all the watches fault...
****
(It starts to make sense from here...honest!)
If you are still reading, congratulations! You are now the second person to survive the dream that I had last night (with me being the first :P)
No word of a lie, I was trapped in every job I have ever worked, all at the same time dealing with just about every irate customer ive ever had to face.
Absolutely mental! I spent hours rooting about in the bookies safe looking for big mac sauce and then went to the McDs stockroom trying to find £10,000 to pay a punter with, didnt find either.
The up side?
I woke up safe in the knowledge that whatever work threw at me today would be tame in comparison, and indeed that seemed to ring true as I came home in a pretty good mood.
Since my last rather 'feelin sorry for itself' update I have actually been pretty productive. Ive polished three short stories, written two pieces of music, one with lyrics one with a 'hum along vocal' which will hopefully become lyrics in the future. Also managed to get a lot of the screenplay from my head to the hard drive and then from the hard drive to the same folder with all the other screenplay related stuff.
The Aeon One submission is finished, thank god! I was learning to loathe that last 300 word stretch!
And to top off the writing related update I proof read a book of someone I have no doubt is 'One to watch'. So good I read all 100k words in a weekend and only sent back 5 pages of thoughts. (Anyone who has suffered my crit before knows thats doing pretty well :P)
Now if you came from facebook, youll want to know about the other thing...the *cringe* thing. I think im just going to stop doing it in the morning.
Most of the time, I am a succesful flirt. That is to say, the girl laughs and I don't get hit (...by her. There have been occasions where the girl laughs and the boyfriend hits me, but thats another story...) but a few mornings ago I found myself in one of those impossible : 'How the hell did I get here situations and how do I get out of it now that I've arrived'
The answer to both? I dont know. But it started like this:
She was attractive so far as train conductors go. Not too much make-up, nice soft tone of speaking, she managed to use the word 'idiosyncrasies' in a sentence...my kind of girl!
My pre-coffee, no nicotine for a month brain starts to highlight talking points. Shes working on a train, you know about trains, your sitting on a train! No, I tell my brain. Eh, she's got black nail polish on, that means shes a goth, talk about Marlyn Manson! Nope. Ok, talk about making out, or sex! Girls like sex! I decide to ignore my brain and stick to the tried and tested method as she approaches, I'll tell her she looks nice, you like her outfit, she has nice hair. Anything to start a conversation and the rest usually falls into place...
She looks at me, slightest hint of a smile on her lips.
"Did you dress yourself?" I say boldly.
...I swear to god, you know that way when you say something and everyone goes quiet? Well everyone went quiet and then I said that, and then the silence got suffocating.
It actually took her to do the, hand on the hip 'what did you say' stare before my brain registered the problem.
Quick! my brain yells Recover, recover recover!
"I mean, did you brush your hair?" I say trying to add a boyish grin, which just makes it look like I am trying to be offensive. 'See yah!' my brain says as there is an audible intake of breath on the carriage and all the clever one liners I know jump off at Partick station.
"Ticket?" she spits. It takes me a look in every pocket twice to find it.
"Oops" I say instead of sorry as I hand my ticket it over.
"Dick" she mumbles as she scores it with a pen and storms up the carriage.
So, ontop of the 'quit smoking' rule I have also added 'quit flirting in the morning...with Scotrail staff' (the girl in Starbucks is too cute not to flirt with and im sure the one in Costa gives me extra shots of caramel :P)
Anyways!
Consider yourself upto date!
Dare to dream!
SBP
It was a confusing moment staring at that watch, I noticed first that it didn't belong to me, and second that it's face was blank. But that didn't matter, there were punter's screaming at me cause the 14.55 was about to go off.
"Give me a monkey on McGarth's nag!" the man croaked. Flecks of spittle spraying the glass window between us as he brandishes liquorice lace in one hand and a copy of 'How to beat the bookies' in the other.
The liquorice lace throws me, I dont know how to ring that up through the till. People have tried to bet with all sorts before: cigarettes, beer, even had a guy try to barter with a bag full of aluminium cans, but never liquorice lace. I begin to explain that I do-
"nneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" The buzzer squeals in my ear. All bets are off, the horses are out of their stalls.
Only the buzzer doesn't stop, and there's no horses.
I turn and stare at the offending deep fat frier as a few loose fries float about the simmering tallow oil.
"neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!"
Bugger me if thats not an annoying noise. I push one of the eight buttons, the buzzing stops. I lift the fries from the vat, they smell great when they are fresh. I swing them over to the fry station careful to avoid staining my suit, bugger the Ajax.
"Cheese call till two!" Now I laugh. The guy in kitchen must be near blind because the punter at till two is a dirty old man with no teeth and nicotine stained fingers, definiely not 'Cheese call' material. Only when I turn back around there is no punter, offending smell and liquorice lace gone as well. And there, right where he was stood a moment before, is a bonefied Cheese call. Definitely scoring a 9/10 on the too hot for apple pie hottie scale.
"Are you the manager?" she asks in a very posh southern accent. I look at my cufflinks.
Probably. I think.
"Because I have a problem with my subscription and I want to make a complaint!" Her words are venemous now. Two tills to my left the new start drops two shakes, thick red slush pooling on the floor. She runs off crying.
'Get a wet floor sign!' I yell. Worried the horses might slip and then there'll be a bloody law suit. Every one of these customers could be a 'mystery shopper' or the gambling commision...or the environmental health *gulp*
"What about my subscription!" The irate woman yells into her phone, her eyes boaring holes through the phoneline.
"Calm down Miss, now what was your post code?" I ask in my politest telephone voice as I speak through the microphone, only slightly freaked out by the sudden echo I hear in the headset I've been wearing all along.
"Post code! Post code! I'm from Canada!" she yells.
Of course she is.
I knew that.
"And I want to upgrade to the movie channels!" I press the button on the till as I say 'No Problem' its next to SuperSize me and MakeItLarge
"And I want the Crispy Chicken Caeser salad!" I panic because I think we've ran out but I smile at her anyway, she's definitely a Cheese call.
"And while your at it ill take even money on Dettori in the 16.45 steeple and for gods sake will you get me a security guard for tonight like I bloody asked!"
I know its all the watches fault...
****
(It starts to make sense from here...honest!)
If you are still reading, congratulations! You are now the second person to survive the dream that I had last night (with me being the first :P)
No word of a lie, I was trapped in every job I have ever worked, all at the same time dealing with just about every irate customer ive ever had to face.
Absolutely mental! I spent hours rooting about in the bookies safe looking for big mac sauce and then went to the McDs stockroom trying to find £10,000 to pay a punter with, didnt find either.
The up side?
I woke up safe in the knowledge that whatever work threw at me today would be tame in comparison, and indeed that seemed to ring true as I came home in a pretty good mood.
Since my last rather 'feelin sorry for itself' update I have actually been pretty productive. Ive polished three short stories, written two pieces of music, one with lyrics one with a 'hum along vocal' which will hopefully become lyrics in the future. Also managed to get a lot of the screenplay from my head to the hard drive and then from the hard drive to the same folder with all the other screenplay related stuff.
The Aeon One submission is finished, thank god! I was learning to loathe that last 300 word stretch!
And to top off the writing related update I proof read a book of someone I have no doubt is 'One to watch'. So good I read all 100k words in a weekend and only sent back 5 pages of thoughts. (Anyone who has suffered my crit before knows thats doing pretty well :P)
Now if you came from facebook, youll want to know about the other thing...the *cringe* thing. I think im just going to stop doing it in the morning.
Most of the time, I am a succesful flirt. That is to say, the girl laughs and I don't get hit (...by her. There have been occasions where the girl laughs and the boyfriend hits me, but thats another story...) but a few mornings ago I found myself in one of those impossible : 'How the hell did I get here situations and how do I get out of it now that I've arrived'
The answer to both? I dont know. But it started like this:
She was attractive so far as train conductors go. Not too much make-up, nice soft tone of speaking, she managed to use the word 'idiosyncrasies' in a sentence...my kind of girl!
My pre-coffee, no nicotine for a month brain starts to highlight talking points. Shes working on a train, you know about trains, your sitting on a train! No, I tell my brain. Eh, she's got black nail polish on, that means shes a goth, talk about Marlyn Manson! Nope. Ok, talk about making out, or sex! Girls like sex! I decide to ignore my brain and stick to the tried and tested method as she approaches, I'll tell her she looks nice, you like her outfit, she has nice hair. Anything to start a conversation and the rest usually falls into place...
She looks at me, slightest hint of a smile on her lips.
"Did you dress yourself?" I say boldly.
...I swear to god, you know that way when you say something and everyone goes quiet? Well everyone went quiet and then I said that, and then the silence got suffocating.
It actually took her to do the, hand on the hip 'what did you say' stare before my brain registered the problem.
Quick! my brain yells Recover, recover recover!
"I mean, did you brush your hair?" I say trying to add a boyish grin, which just makes it look like I am trying to be offensive. 'See yah!' my brain says as there is an audible intake of breath on the carriage and all the clever one liners I know jump off at Partick station.
"Ticket?" she spits. It takes me a look in every pocket twice to find it.
"Oops" I say instead of sorry as I hand my ticket it over.
"Dick" she mumbles as she scores it with a pen and storms up the carriage.
So, ontop of the 'quit smoking' rule I have also added 'quit flirting in the morning...with Scotrail staff' (the girl in Starbucks is too cute not to flirt with and im sure the one in Costa gives me extra shots of caramel :P)
Anyways!
Consider yourself upto date!
Dare to dream!
SBP
Wednesday 1 August 2012
Waiting for my real life to begin...
Colin Hay.
Is anyone else just blown away by how awesome this song is? This is one of those songs, the ones that you hear and think 'I love this song, need to buy (d/l) it when I get in!' Then you get in to discover you have forgotten the name of the song, and all the lyrics are the wrong way round in your google search, and then YouTube distracts you until finally you give up...
Well at least it was for me. Then I wrote the blog title and it was like being struck by lightning! (Well not literally, thankfully I haven't the foggiest idea what it feels like to be struck by lightning so I can only presume whoever came up with the saying - and had the experience from which to draw a comparison - knew what they were talking about!)
Anyways, the song kind of sums up how I've been feeling recently. I am seriously struggling with the monotony of my day job to the point where on several occasions I have actually came home and went straight to bed (desperate to put the day behind me). This, as it quickly transpired, did not help. The next day was/is no better. And so the vicious circle continued. I was 'waiting on my real life to begin'. It went on and on and on and on until, suddenly...
Nothing happened...
The realisation sunk in my chest like a bag of soggy spiders. This is real life. It is happening. Right now.
"Is this it?" is what went through my head. "Is this what life is?"
It was about ten years ago (roughly) that people started to ask that annoyingly impossible to answer question:
"Where do you see yourself in ten years time?"
Has anyone ever gotten that question right? Seriously! What self respecting 15 year old says. "Yes sir, I see myself sitting behind the desk of a repetitive job watching two monitors wondering how the hell I got here!" That would have been the right answer, but it would have been wrong on so many levels!
It sure as hell wasn't my answer. I wanted to be an archeologist. Then a games designer. Then a captain in the navy. Then a doctor. Then I wanted to be 21.
Thankfully I just about managed the last one (although for some reason girls still tell me I have the mind of a teenager :P) but alas the rest of these career paths eluded me and I am that person sitting watching the e-mail inbox on one screen and relaying its contents to the outbox on the other. *Sigh*
The fact is, I never really put much thought into those career paths. Sure I know what an archeologist is, or at least I know what the word means. But digging up bones/relics etc for a living? Do I want to do that for the rest of my life? No. Games Design? Yeah that sounds great! Does it really? Twelve hours a day stuck in front of a computer screen staring at lines upon lines of text pulling my hair out because JavaScript isn't speaking to C++? Not for me either! Captain in the navy, lets not. And a doctor? Well, let's just say other people's personal problem are theirs, not mine!
So where does that leave me? Well to be honest it leaves me on the same boat as most people my age (which actually cheered me up!) and it kind of gave me a much needed kick up the arse!
Life is happening, this isn't a dry run, I'm not practicing, this is it! And as nice as daydreams about the future are, without action, without drive then that's all they will ever be. It's important to dream, and it's important to plan. I decided I am going to ask myself that question again, but not do it for ten years, or even one year.
"Where do I see myself in one month..."
Honestly, I will probably be in the same job (unless I win the lottery or get struck off, this is almost guaranteed), off sick recovering from my boob job. The important thing is that I will be closer to achieving my dream - the future I am aiming for - than I am now...
And in honesty that is all anyone can really hope for. Life is happening. Keep working hard. Keep striving forward. And step by step, day by labouress day I will be closer to my goals...
Keep on dreaming guys and gals,
Tomorrow is almost here!
SBP
Is anyone else just blown away by how awesome this song is? This is one of those songs, the ones that you hear and think 'I love this song, need to buy (d/l) it when I get in!' Then you get in to discover you have forgotten the name of the song, and all the lyrics are the wrong way round in your google search, and then YouTube distracts you until finally you give up...
Well at least it was for me. Then I wrote the blog title and it was like being struck by lightning! (Well not literally, thankfully I haven't the foggiest idea what it feels like to be struck by lightning so I can only presume whoever came up with the saying - and had the experience from which to draw a comparison - knew what they were talking about!)
Anyways, the song kind of sums up how I've been feeling recently. I am seriously struggling with the monotony of my day job to the point where on several occasions I have actually came home and went straight to bed (desperate to put the day behind me). This, as it quickly transpired, did not help. The next day was/is no better. And so the vicious circle continued. I was 'waiting on my real life to begin'. It went on and on and on and on until, suddenly...
Nothing happened...
The realisation sunk in my chest like a bag of soggy spiders. This is real life. It is happening. Right now.
"Is this it?" is what went through my head. "Is this what life is?"
It was about ten years ago (roughly) that people started to ask that annoyingly impossible to answer question:
"Where do you see yourself in ten years time?"
Has anyone ever gotten that question right? Seriously! What self respecting 15 year old says. "Yes sir, I see myself sitting behind the desk of a repetitive job watching two monitors wondering how the hell I got here!" That would have been the right answer, but it would have been wrong on so many levels!
It sure as hell wasn't my answer. I wanted to be an archeologist. Then a games designer. Then a captain in the navy. Then a doctor. Then I wanted to be 21.
Thankfully I just about managed the last one (although for some reason girls still tell me I have the mind of a teenager :P) but alas the rest of these career paths eluded me and I am that person sitting watching the e-mail inbox on one screen and relaying its contents to the outbox on the other. *Sigh*
The fact is, I never really put much thought into those career paths. Sure I know what an archeologist is, or at least I know what the word means. But digging up bones/relics etc for a living? Do I want to do that for the rest of my life? No. Games Design? Yeah that sounds great! Does it really? Twelve hours a day stuck in front of a computer screen staring at lines upon lines of text pulling my hair out because JavaScript isn't speaking to C++? Not for me either! Captain in the navy, lets not. And a doctor? Well, let's just say other people's personal problem are theirs, not mine!
So where does that leave me? Well to be honest it leaves me on the same boat as most people my age (which actually cheered me up!) and it kind of gave me a much needed kick up the arse!
Life is happening, this isn't a dry run, I'm not practicing, this is it! And as nice as daydreams about the future are, without action, without drive then that's all they will ever be. It's important to dream, and it's important to plan. I decided I am going to ask myself that question again, but not do it for ten years, or even one year.
"Where do I see myself in one month..."
Honestly, I will probably be in the same job (unless I win the lottery or get struck off, this is almost guaranteed), off sick recovering from my boob job. The important thing is that I will be closer to achieving my dream - the future I am aiming for - than I am now...
And in honesty that is all anyone can really hope for. Life is happening. Keep working hard. Keep striving forward. And step by step, day by labouress day I will be closer to my goals...
Keep on dreaming guys and gals,
Tomorrow is almost here!
SBP
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