Project Update.

I'm procrastinating. It's kinda what I do.

I just about have the prologue figured out in my head, and the structure of the remainder laid out(ish), but apart from the first and last lines I've got very little down on paper. The "problem" that I have decided to blame this upon is that, while I am learning the terminology I haven't spent a great deal of time on late 18th, early 19th century sailing vessels, and so I'm not convinced that anything I write will come across with an air of authenticity.

It is a hope of mine to put up the prologue in full here some time soon, but don't hold your breath.

Teh Fear Elaborated.

OK, in brief...

I have travelled, so this really shouldn't be an issue for me. Jordan, Egypt, America, Italy, Portugal, Morocco. I've flown before. But not for a couple of years.

We've booked our holiday for this year, Sicily, and I'm really looking forward to it. I'm not looking forward to the flight, and I don't know why, as I thought I'd gotten over this whole thing. I think it can be summed up by the following factors:-

Fear of Falling
Understandable - it's a long way down. That said, I know that planes don't just drop out of the sky. People fly them into the ground or mountains, but they don't just drop.

Fear of Terrorism
Understandable, but irrational. Why can I use the Underground on the regular basis and not think twice, but panic for months in advance about flying? The security is better (is it, it's so secretive) and it's not as if we're still living in a climate where people are being driven to do horrible things... ahem. And we're always being told how tough security is at Heathrow... but what about Gatwick? I don't care about Heath-frickin'-row.

So anyway, I need to combat this. It's stupid, it's not something I can really put into words, but I need to do something about it. I'm booking myself in on an Aviatours course, but I reckon that's half the problem.

I'm a thinker, and spend a great deal of time wondering "what if" and doing very little - that's the same reason why I don't blog much. I'm too busy thinking about something else, and it's usually some flash in the pan (Diceman, anyone?) leaving me plenty of time to worry about something else.

So I'm going to give myself a project. It's a project that involves a little bit of research, a little bit of writing (something I'm sorely out of practice doing as you can probably tell; the last fun thing I wrote was this, and that was yonks ago) and surprisingly, a little bit of work. Yes, w**k work.

Hopefully that will take my mind off it for a while. Oh, and the project? Tentatively titled "Upon the Death of Lord Nelson" but we'll see.

Teh Fear.

I hate flying.

I will elaborate later.

EDIT: Ooooh, www.kourosism.org has died. Might be because I didn't pay to renew it. Oh well.

Hair Today.

A bit drastic? Suddenly feels that bit colder outside, that's for sure...

An open letter to the man in the white BMW.

I saw you.

I saw you turn the corner without indicating. I saw that you were speeding. I saw you power slide to the wrong of the road, then rev your engine as you came towards me.

You saw me move out of the way - I'm not a moron. I saw you laugh - you are.

I saw the local shop you were visiting, and the nearby school. I saw the houses where the local children live. I saw that it was dark and there were people crossing the road. But I see you don't care about that. You were safe in your little tin box.

I didn't see your numberplate, but I will.