Monday 13 June 2011

WordSlinga'

I finished reading the penultimate volume to Stephen King's Dark Tower series this evening - Song of Susannah. With only one more part to this epic quest to read (and then the numerous graphic novel spin-offs and the additional novel that Sai King is to release upon the world next year), it's safe to say that my own personal journey to reach the Dark Tower is nearing completion after four whole years. For those of you reading this that may not have seen my previous musings on King's Dark Tower books, then let me just fill you in a tad to say that I've rather enjoyed taking the slow-approach with these novels, and will be sad to leave mid-world and end-world come the end of the literary road.

I probably sound (or read) like a bit of a loser right about now, but truth be told I don't care much about that. I've been enjoying - and still am - these books and whole-heartily recommend them to all, especially with the first movie adaptation only a mere two years away from us now. What inspired me to start writing again tonight though was the addition of some of the entries from Stephen King's own personal journals included at the end of the book. These journal entries span from the mid-seventies right the way through to 1999, and basically tell of the long, artistic endeavour in which King travelled to produce this World of the Gunslinger and the Dark Tower. It's a fascinating read - almost as much so as the terrific tale that precedes it - as it also tells of Stephen King's own personal battles with alcoholism among other issues while he was dealing with them first hand. Everything he speaks to himself of in these 'Dear Diary' moments tells like one of his eery stories and even culminates in a life-altering event, much like what would happen in one of his bestsellers. Many-a Stephen King fan reading this will probably know of the event in the writer's life that I'm referring to, and if not I ask you really? The incident that nearly killed the world's greatest popular novelist has even been parodied in Family Guy... Twice!

The Pieces of the Puzzle

Having reached this point in my reading of Roland and his trials and tribulations in a bid to reach that ever elusive Dark Tower, it would seem that my life - here in the real world - is starting to take form. I mentioned a couple of blogs back about how Stacey had finally been made a permanent fixture in her office, like a piece of the furniture if it does ya. Well, she's doing great, and I'm extremely happy and proud for her. In my world - Our World - I get the sense that everything is slowly, but surely, coming together. Change is afoot, and in the best possible of ways methinks and mehopes. I have finished my degree at last, and with that comes the climax to my life's work to date: Educating myself. I know, I know, we learn new things everyday, but I'm excited and a little nervous about the fact that I'm no longer a student of the game, so to speak. I've even decided to broaden the job hunt and am looking at the possibilities of working in the big, scary city. I'm 22 next week, so I guess it's time to become a proper grown up... I've already just said that I'm excited, and I am... about everything. I love the uncertainty of life at the moment, just the not-knowing of it all. For instance: Where will I be working in a month's time? What will I be doing? When will I be flying the nest? - These are very, very exciting times indeed, and I'm savouring every delicious minute of it! I even find myself daydreaming about all the little ways in which my life will change when I'm a full-timer. Obviously I'll have more money rolling in and will (fingers crossed) be able to move out soon enough. But I also wonder about my spare-time and all my little hobbies and interests. If I commute to London, the train journey each day, back and forth, will be a little bit of Me-Time, as I can already picture myself sitting in an uncomfy, smelly chair each day, moving at 200 miles per hour reading the latest Stephen King, or playing the newest game on my Nintendo, or even watching some movie or TV show on my iPod. 

According to Stacey though, many officey types that she knows are all into exercise, so maybe I'll abandon many of my likes to tone my abs. I suppose at the very least I should get back on the ol' bicycle. My weekly 411 column will likely become an immediate casualty as I just don't see how I'll have the time to commit to it every week any longer. One of my main concerns though is that I not stop writing. I hope to always keep this blog and don't see any reason for it to end, especially since the entries are always sporadic anyways. I guess I'm overreacting now though about it all, as I don't really know what the near future holds for me at the moment. I just want to make sure that I never stop writing as it's something I love to do, yet is something that I can easily see being forgotten about until one day, a much older version of myself (possibly middle-aged, maybe older) rediscovers this blog and wonders just what in the hell happened, just like a scene out of a movie! I'm sure it'll never get to that though. Sure.

Oli Oli Alioli

I cooked dinner for the family tonight. I produced a chili-con-carne, and the general verdict seems to be that it's better than the one Mum's been serving us up for two decades. I'm sure in truth though that it's only an illusion in that Mum's recipe has been enjoyed so many times that mine comes along and looks all new and shiny, and therefore better. Although I did include sour cream, nachos and guacamole to spruce things up from the tried and true Chili 'n' Rice only combo.
While in the supermarket hunting down the ingredients for the meal ('hunting down' sounds so much cooler than 'shopping for'), I remembered a lunch that was enjoyed by myself, and by Stacey in Spain last year. ALIOLI! Alioli is a garlic mayonnaise-like substance that isn't quite mayonnaise. We ate it en Espana spread on pieces of baguette, with a spoonful of tinned tomato puree matter dashed on top, followed by a pinch of salt. Ah it was delicious, and it took until now - 9 months later - to remember to look the damn stuff up! I guess thoughts like that need the required pregnancy time to be born into my head again. Anywho, the bottom line is that I couldn't find it, and so am left wondering whether this garlic-tasting treat is available on our shores. If anyone can help in the hunt for some alioli, it would be much appreciated.

The Monsters Hiding Under the Sofa?

One final note before signing out for the night (Sleepsville awaits my presence), we re-watched the Disney/Pixar classic Monsters Inc. the other week, 'we' being Stacey and me. It's a fantastically heartwarming film that makes you both laugh and cry... not that I cry at films... I'm a man afterall...
It turns out that Stacey takes some of the subject matter a little seriously. Now, she's always had this habit of having to put her feet up on my lap which I thought nothing of - Maybe that's just how she was comfortable sitting - Maybe not. No, Stacey would only put her feet up on my lap when she wasn't wearing slippers or any other appropriate footwear. For you see, there could be monsters lurking in the teeny, tiny crevice beneath the sofa, or bed, or whatever the hell you're sitting on, and apparently the defence against such terrors is warm, soft and comfortable footwear. Hazzah! 

Weird foot fetishes aside, I am in for a hell of a week, as we're pub-quizzing it up tomorrow night, and then this weekend the birthday festivities of myself and a few other friends kick off. I'm looking forward to it all, and will make sure to write about it all, I'm sure. Sure. Still can't believe I'm going to be 22, the age of a couple of ducks as Stacey keeps telling me. Oh well, at least I'm not 23 yet, eh sweetie? Oh yeah and while all the TV shows I've been watching recently have decided to go and take inconsiderate mid-series breaks - I'm looking at you South Park and Doctor Who - the ultimate in television shows is back, as Dexter returns for its 5th season in the UK as kind of an early birthday present from the TV Gods. Life really is piecing itself together.

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