Monday, November 12, 2007

Themed nautical – who knew?

I am, as we all know, the captain of my own ship. Sure, I was maybe a trifle immature and untested when I took on this command but I think I do okay for a (really very lazy) novice. However, I have the tendency to let my ship drift and allow the tides to take me where they will – which seems to be a whole lot of nowhere, I think I’m anchored (long chain, obviously) in a very sheltered harbour…and this is becoming a whole lot of boring. Also, the nautical theme is just killing me and, shortly, I shall have to speak like a normal person.

Anyway, I had this idea, which did not, ever, actually involve ships. I’m still having this idea and because I’m having the idea and because I mentioned it on Friday and because rather a lot of you had your curiosity piqued and because I said Monday and it is Monday then I’m going to just get on with it and tell you my [totally lame] idea and let you do/not do with it as you will.

Here’s the thing - next week marks the end of the first twenty-nine years of my life. I’m entering my thirtieth year and, curiously, at the end of that year when I do actually turn thirty [and don’t you just wish our counting system was a little less freaky?] I’m going to be totally freaked out because the numbers change over and that, somehow, is much scarier than the fact that at that stage I will have lived for thirty really quite dull years.

Yeah, birthdays, aging and all that fun stuff, just have a way of making you look at your life and go, ‘hey, what’s going on here and holy fuck will someone please tell me what to do next?’ This is kind of what I want you to do. As a birthday gift to me and as an exercise of your collectively marvellous imaginations/writing skills (see how I flatter you?), I want you to write me a script or a horoscope or whatever for the next year of my life. Predictions of what will happen, what you think should happen, what might happen, what you think I should do, what you think I can do, whatever, really, are all welcome. I leave it to your imaginations. I do ask, though, that you be reasonable – please don’t suggest that I marry a multi-billionaire named Fred unless you actually know one and can give me his number, because, you never know, I might actually choose to take you up on your advice/insane and criminal suggestions. I give you a time limit – until next Monday because chances are I’ll be off air for most of the two weeks after that – but no other limit. Make it as short or as long or as totally non-existent as you like. You can put it into comments or email me or write it out and post it to me if you know my name/where I live. I haven’t quite decided what to do after that but I suspect I will find a way to blog about it.

I feel a little bit Dale, only totally lame. I did warn you. Repeatedly. Well, go on then.

10 comments:

Dan said...

First and foremost, 30 isn't bad. I've even made it to 31! I actually feel better than I have ever felt as well. Anyways, I'll think of something to write. Not now. Work time is coming.

Dale Slamma said...

Ah now you have a few preparations to make before entering the club of fabulous and 30. You must immediately start thinking fabulous thoughts and walking around thinking you are fabulous then when the day hits you'll be ready for the rush of fabulousness. I will tune my predictive powers and prepare a prediction.

Mark said...

Things to do after you turn thirty:

1) Get a Zimmer frame.
2) Depends.
3) Letters to the editor.

Actually, it's pretty impossible to suggest anything, since we know relatively little about your life. I can only reiterate my past ideas: become a vampire slayer, write more, and go to grad school. Good enuff?h

nailpolishblues said...

Fine, Mark, write me a story on how I become a vampire slayer. If you want to know stuff you can just ask. Or just get drunk with me - that should tell you everything you need to know [and then some].

Dale, so basically think fabulous thoughts about fabulousness - mine. Okay.

Dan, I know, really I do but still...

TimT said...

Letters to the editor is a think political bloggers used to do before they got a political blog. It's not necessarily a good look...

In the year to come, you will a) quit your job, b) get a better job, c) Write several chapters of that book d) Have an intriguing encounter with a new and previously unheard of traditional eastern European alcohol that will result in several periods of drunkenness.

Not very imaginative on my part, but still...

Enny said...

I think the year will start off in slump, pick up, drop a bit, then super awesome peak.

That's my feeling :o)

glen said...

you having a party!?!!? woot, npb!

nailpolishblues said...

Glen, no party - my mummy and daddy are taking me to the Hunter Valley to behave like alcoholic bourgies :p

Enny, well, the start of my year is the end of this one and yes, I can see the slump.

Tim - huh? I don't letter to the editor. And if I wanted to write politics I'd develop a thicker skin and do so. I seem to know a fuckload more about politics than an awful lot of people in this place.
As for the rest - given who just quit the company and how much it's been in the news lately I think I'd probably best get out before a) they sell, b) the company explodes in a bloody mess.
Oh, and what book?

colonel eggroll said...

Your thirtieth year will be filled with perfectly groomed eyebrows, bubble baths, numerous cups of tea, friends, adventures with new friends, a new job, and writing in the blue mountains.

Most of that kind of sounds like what you do now. Not so bad if you ask me! :)

I think you should do some traveling. That's always fun.

Winter said...

Hmmm, Colonel Eggroll pretty much nailed what I was going to go for. I'll have to think up something else.

Get my tarot cards out maybe?