Sad 'First World' Truths

They don't call me Martin 'Two Bottles of Sparkling Wine Despite Having Nothing to Celebrate in Fact Quite the Opposite Because I'm Feeling Sad and Alone and Desperately Trying to Fill the Void with Something and Alcohol's to Hand and I Know it's Not Good for Me I'm Not Saying it is but What am I Going to do Wait Ages to See a Doctor Only to be Put on a Drug that Makes me Feel Worse When as an Insecure MAle I feel I can Handle the Problem a Little Better Myself Anyway' Palmer for nothing.

Ending on an END

Yum...

Ok, that acronym bit is old now... What isn't old is donating money, which you can do via this link [thanks to all my donors by the way!]: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Martin-Palmer5

Anyhoo... Today I went out on a walk and found a bottle of Eisberg Alcohol Free Cabernet Sauvignon in one of my local shops. We used to stock it ages ago in The Wineyard, and I always wondered what it'd be like. I assumed it'd be something similar to fruit juice. At £3.49, I had to give it a go, and there I was, cracking open a bottle of wine in the mid-afternoon.

On first smell it seemed a bit sour, and on first taste it was a muted fruity affair with a bitterness akin to apple seeds, and a sort of chalky-velvet mouthfeel. Whereas the smell put me off a bit, I was reasonably happy with how it tasted. It took a while for the flavours to build up and for me to appreciate what they were - basic cherry, raspberry and maybe some blackcurrants. It's decent, but quite shallow.

Maybe all the wine needed was a bit of a breathing, and the aroma grew on me. Still a weak smell, but at least not off-putting. Yeah, bottom line, I enjoyed it. Without the body of the booze, it just isn't complex enough for me. It's not just like fruit juice, but then it kind of is too. I've paid more for 'actual wine' that has been disgusting and disappointing. This was neither. Presumably it's lower in sugar than grape juice from concentrate, and it's only 28kcal per 125ml glass, so, hey, it's got more positives on top of the taste.

Boo!

In other news, the main reason I went to the shops was to get a pumpkin. Since going sober, I've been surprised just what fills my time... It was a good little laugh, getting a bit mucky and cutting out a menacing face, a nice nostalgia journey. I even roasted the pumpkin seeds and I'm enjoying eating them right now. The only thing I would say is that, even totally sober, I shouldn't be trusted with a knife...

Ow!

Missing the Point

My poor, poor toe...

 To the left to the left is a picture of my ill toe. It has nothing to do with this post, or my Sober For October journey, but I'm in such a lot of distress, and it really is such a shame, it's just awful... The only thing I think could possibly help me and my recovery would be you donating on my page: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Martin-Palmer5

Last weekend I was at the Lancaster Music Festival. It was a lot of fun, but bloody busy. I was in one of the fine Luneside hostelries, which was so busy that they had to open up one of the back doors to let air circulate and keep things cool. I was sat near this open door and got a whiff of the old casks that must've been out back. As I was breathing in the smell of sour beer, all I could think of was how much I miss bar work. The dirt, the physicality and the camaraderie you get with your workfellows, and the customer interchange as well.

Obviously the times could be very hard. Too hard, in some ways. I remember a bank holiday shift once where the kitchen staff were rushed off their feet [I think one out of three of them was ill, so they were down to two anyway] and one of the remaining guys walked out. I had to go around and tell anyone who'd ordered that they wouldn't be getting their food, and telling anyone who wanted food that they couldn't get it, all the while having to contort my body to squeeze myself through a solid maze of customers that at least doubled my journey between gantry and glasswash room. But you knew you'd done a good job by the end of it. And, dare I say it, I wasn't the worst bar person in the world.

Also, as I've been in work at The Wineyard, I've been evaluating things. I've been asking myself the ol' question of whether I should give it up altogether. But, as pointless as it sounds, I like the chat with people about flavours, about appreciation of the products, about facilitating people having fun.

The point is, I'm a part of the alcohol trade. I have been almost all my working life so far, and though it has its downsides [which I will wisely not mention here...] there are many good facets to it. And many of them don't require you to necessarily partake in the drinking.

Well my original intention for this post was to write a hard line on how much fun there is on the world, even within the industry, that doesn't need booze consumption, and how I, or even we, could be very happy without it. But I've written a worm in there, the whole thing about being able to talk about tastes, which usually involves me drinking. And really, it's obvious that all one needs to do is spit out the drink afterwards and avoid getting drunk, but I have to say I can't see myself spitting out pints [especially not in the pub - could you imagine?]. But then, to be honest, I couldn't imagine myself doing this Sober For October thing a few weeks ago either.

Haha, how typical of me. I had a good idea, a simple one, and I was all ready to just put it down and maybe make you think. Instead, I've made myself think - too much - again, and now I'm not sure. Can I work in this trade without drinking alcohol? Sure. Reasonably easily, in fact. Can I work in this trade and enjoy not drinking alcohol? Much harder. For me at least...

Again, it's a terrible argument, but I always come back to 'humanity'. Yes it's more than probable that because of the decadent country I live in, it's rather easy to push this idea, but life's full of things we don't need, but more than keep us living, they make us feel alive. Passions in any area, you know, they're all a part of us. Beer especially just happens to be mine. I know it doesn't have to be as I can derive joy from many other areas of my life, but I do get something out of it. Right now this just feels like me trying to justify going back on the sauce to me, so I'll just stop...

I tried to make a positive case for abstinence, I really did. Right now, though, the positive case is your donations. They're keeping me sober throughout this month, so if you can and want to chuck a bit of money towards Macmillan's work, you can either do it on my page or just in a can somewhere...

Peace out.

NaNoWriMoWeUp4

Day Twenty-Two: 1,314. Still not doing well to recover my lost average, but this wasn't bad. I would've stuck with it, but I've got an early dentist's appointment tomorrow.
   Almost thought I was going to start in the evening, rather than at night, and then I wouldn't have had this problem, but it's an ongoing process... I'm trying to find consistent will power [or a way of living that'll support whatever sleep cycle I want would be nice!], so fingers crossed.

Day Twenty-Three: 3,543. Nice! Two big bursts [steady now...] have seen me take a chunk out of my deficit [still euphemistic?]. Did the wine help or hinder? Is this the start of better, prolonged practice?
   Who knows!

Day Twenty-Four: 2,042. A bit 'meh'. I was treading water for a bit, struggled for motivation halfway through and had sneezing fits just as I was finding mojo...
   Still, not bad. Only about seven and a half thousand words to go now. Seems the end is in sight...

Day Twenty-Five: 540. More done on the bus. Not ideal.

Day Twenty-Six: 937. I let football take precedence. I feel that going ahead so early with my word count has diminished my drive, which is exactly what I didn't want to happen really.

Day Twenty-Seven: 2,169. Despite a lovely trip to Liverpool [hopefully more on that to follow], found time to crack out a decent amount of content. Hey ho.

Day Twenty-Eight: 376. Wrote with TV on and a phone game being played... It's no wonder I felt like I was banging my head against a wall [please don't try that at home kids. Or anywhere else for that matter...]. Now have to write over my original daily aim [1,667 words] each day to reach the overall goal.
   Down to the wire!

Good In Life

You know what I like in life? Rhymes based on how to safely mix alcoholic drinks. I'm sure you're all the same. There's that one, "Cider on beer makes you feel queer, beer on cider makes a good rider." Yeah, good one that isn't it? Then of course there's that other one, how does it go, "Wine on beer makes you feel queer, beer on wine makes you feel fine." Yeah, both got rhymes in them. I've made one myself, actually, hope you like it:

Wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine on wine makes you fall over.

G'night folks!

Me Me Me

Sorry: this is going to be all about me again. I hate whining, but talking about myself inevitably turns into some kind of whine or moan (just a thought, how about 'whoan' as a word? A cross between a whine and a moan. No? Okay...). Then again I have been talking about recent changes in my writing and I hope they've been useful to you. I reiterate that hope today.

As I've said before, I feel like my writing stamina has improved since my relatively long blog-a-day stint last month. My impetus to write, however, seems to obey its own rules. One day I feel like I've got nothing, am never going to have anything and should give up the idea of being a writer, then the next day I write a couple of bits of fiction and some other none fiction. The day after may be more of an ideas day than a writing one. Today it has been reasonably hard.

I think forcing yourself to do things when you don't want to is  pretty easy. In terms of writing anyway... In terms of my diet, it's far too easy to over-eat and most of the time, love or money wouldn't be enough to get me out on a jog, for example. But anyway, when writing, I've taken the message that it's okay to write shit, as long as you're writing (ta Chris Beckett), and I don't feel writer's block when working on a new piece.

HERE IS THE MOAN: I'm still so annoyed at myself that I can't finish things. Can't or won't, I don't really know (hmm, seems like we could've done with another contraction in that sentence...). I'd say of all the ideas I've ever had, I've probably started a third of them? Maybe a bit more. Then of that third, I've probably finished... blimey... I can't decide if it's more like a fifth or a tenth... Well, at best, of the overall number I finish around a thirtieth of all the ideas I have. I don't think that's a reliable figure at all, but I'm trying. It's terrible though - I drive my writing snowplow into the avalanche, make a decent dent, and then just stop. Later on, start work on another avalanche, make decent headway again then stop. A year later, so many first drafts have been started then just been ignored...

Part of this is due to confidence. I tell myself some things aren't worth further work, when maybe they are. Also, I get so excited about new projects, so older ones just naturally fall by the wayside. It's stupid though, I'm being all 'high and mighty' about writing more, but it's like making a meal. Sure it's great if you make loads of different dishes, but if you don't finish them then you've really wasted a lot of (good?) stuff. Bah, I dunno, I'm just not in a great mood... Again taking some advice from Chris, he says stories can have a long gestation period (twenty years, in the case of one of his), so maybe I shouldn't worry so much. It's hard to take good advice to heart, though, when negative emotion soaks in easier than red wine on a white carpet.

It could all be part of my process. Maybe it's part of yours? Since there are no definite yeses here, however, if you don't mind I'll just assume the worst and go drink and cry and whoan into the wind.

Today

Has been a very olfactory day in Morecambe. Take a look at these aromas:

• Perfume
• Cigarette smoke
• Unsafe-to-eat blue cheese with sweaty-gritty note to start, with rotten fish-and-egg to finish
• Intense hot chocolate, with an absence of fresh bread
• Smoker
• Tobacco
• Stale cider and smoke
• Aftershave
• Crap coffee
• Bubblegum and smoker
• My own personal farts
• Motor oil mint
• Money
• Red wine

Does sleep smell? I'll find out soon...