tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23381180544381584572011-10-16T19:54:17.556+01:00Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.comBlogger271100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-85891384476963868642011-04-30T02:08:00.003+01:002011-04-30T02:31:28.339+01:00

My first Grandparent to die was my maternal Grandfather. He went just after my mother was born. Three months after she was born as I recall. I don't know how Nana coped with that, but she did with spades.In its own way it makes sense that she would be the last to go - but that's not the point. The point is that she was the last grandparent to go, and that means that the buffer zone has gone,

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-56349634103825627682011-04-22T11:33:00.003+01:002011-04-22T11:45:25.542+01:00

24/01/08 - excerptNana has a heart-attack. She survives. This I consider to be a bad thing. Not that she's had a heart-attack, the fact that she survived. It's a selfish wish, I fully understand that. If I was her I'd want it to be over. I mean I joke that she'll probably outlive me. Well half-joke anyway.There is a selfish side to it. Her body is slowly giving up on her, slowly locking

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-85281757559343489342011-04-07T23:13:00.001+01:002011-04-07T23:15:26.452+01:00

06/12/07Time is a wonderful thing.Time can be short, it can be long. You can have nothing but time, you can have no time, you can be timeless.It is the river we all swim in, the ocean we drown in. It is a seamless progression of discrete chunks. It is a valuable resource.There is no time like the present, everyday is a new chance to turn it all around.Time can be the harshest of mistresses,

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-72655879726616335242011-02-23T20:47:00.004Z2011-02-24T12:44:19.549Z

Over twelve years ago I got around to getting a provisional license and started learning to drive. I got most of the way through and was about to take my test when the accident happened. It took me two counsellors, a number of nights in tears, a lot of very bad decisions and nearly eleven years to start learning to drive again.Tomorrow I take my first (and hopefully last) driving test.Tomorrow

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-86809190012884822472011-01-16T11:58:00.003Z2011-01-19T13:36:24.635Z

The following was written not long after the accident. It was adapted for something else, but it was based entirely upon my memories. In it Jon is removed and Roby is changed to be a young woman called Ann. My part is played by a young man called Matt. It wasn't raining.It's the closest I have to a written transcript of what happened from the time.One second can change your life.For an

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-85679427709837893952010-12-26T00:22:00.002Z2011-01-19T13:38:25.915Z

The problem is I've spent so long stuck in that one infinite moment, I've never considered the rest of it.In the weeks after the accident I made choices. Conscious choices. I chose to move forward. I chose to survive. I chose to deal with it as best I could. Later.I just didn't really expect it to be over a decade later.But here I am and I'm dealing as best I can. It's an... interesting

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-81848146550952140022010-09-24T12:29:00.004+01:002011-02-24T14:01:19.679Z

This story starts over 11 years ago in a night of blood and tears in a far away land. It starts with a screech of brakes and two unconscious bodies bouncing down a road. This story starts with a young man called Cameron who was left to cope with two hospitalised friends in up state New York, when it was all he could do to cross a road, or get in a car. The simple truth of the matter is that he

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-76004438350154438042010-06-20T18:21:00.005+01:002011-02-24T14:02:32.178Z

At this point you've probably noticed that despite all my optimism to begin with, the re-invention of the blog has, well, stopped. Straight out the gate.The problem I'm having is that I'm not entirely sure what to write about. I mean I still have a historical stock of entries to add in - if I could find the journal. Even if I could find it, I don't really want to go backwards before I

amanshuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12396702524591499559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-16996289418793673422010-06-05T14:19:00.003+01:002011-01-19T13:38:50.016Z

As you may have noticed, this project fell a little bit by the wayside. I continued to make entries in the journal, but I just started to lose time to transfer them to the computer.My time in London continued and extended. In total I spent two and a half years in London. I got a girlfriend, moved out of hotels and in with Kirsten, got burgled - twice - learnt to dive, visited Egypt, Malta and

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-65200866282422843182008-08-07T08:57:00.002+01:002010-06-05T14:42:08.385+01:00

20/11/07Which really leaves me nowhere to go but the third child, which is interesting because there are a couple of other things I've been thinking about. General grumpiness, apologies and lift ettiquette to name a few.Anyway, the third child; the joker, attention seeker and people person. The one who's trying to be noticed beyond the other two, who's trying to find their place. Generally

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-25938290408069051042008-06-09T21:51:00.003+01:002010-06-05T14:42:31.318+01:00

13/11/07It appears I've missed a week, which is a blatant attack on the rules. Rest assured this will not happen again.In my defence I've nowhere to really go now except Euan, and I was surprised at the range of emotions that led to. Euan and I have always had a variable relationship. There was the stage when he was the older sibling who looked after me and I was an annoying brat. There was

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-18511812590551101062008-02-22T14:14:00.003Z2010-06-05T14:43:32.623+01:00

03/11/07Rather naturally the last entry leads on to the next, so you're going to have to forgive me whilst I take a step to one side and look at something else for a while.I've been avoiding really talking about work for a number of reasons. For a start it's really not that relevant to what I'm trying to achieve here. However I find myself in a situation that bears some thought.For various

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-17168183081367271102008-02-22T13:11:00.004Z2010-06-05T14:43:53.216+01:00

25/10/07 - just So, childhood. Now really here I should start with my parents. I mean ultimately they are the start of me. I’m not going to, but I should. There are many reasons for this, but to keep things simple I’ll just give you two. One – it’s too big a subject to tackle without a run up. Two – to understand my relationship with them I need to look at the filter first. But even the

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-55981276713886790722007-12-30T21:38:00.001Z2010-06-05T14:44:39.633+01:00

25/10/0725/10/07 by about five minutes which invariably means I'm drunk. I also have the remains of a beer around here somewhere.But that's not what I want to write about. What I really want to write about is something I've been putting off for a while - I just finally have to accept is true. I'm an attention seeker.You've almost certainly noticed. It's not like it's something you can hide.

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-19312233270555949302007-12-30T21:17:00.001Z2010-06-05T14:46:18.525+01:00

17/10/07Another thing I've noticed about my writing is the people. Now all writing is about conflict. If there's no conflict there is no story. It can be a conflict of people or lifestyles or worlds. No-one wants to go and see a film where boy meets girl and they live happily ever after, or read a thriller where the hero and the villain get on and work together. This journal itself would be

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-6312738585626983272007-10-14T21:31:00.001+01:002011-01-19T13:32:16.968Z

10/10/07"A few years ago it dawned on me that everybody past a certain age - regardless of how they look on the outside - pretty much constantly dreams of being able to escape from their lives. They don't want to be who they are any more. They want out. This list includes Thurston Howell the Third, Ann-Margaret, the cast members of Rent, Vaclav Havel, space shuttle astronauts and

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-87559778735749236752007-10-14T21:29:00.000+01:002007-10-14T21:33:48.453+01:00

04/10/07I seem to have hit a slight problem: namely the work/life balance. Or at this stage the work/work imbalance. Less than four days back from a weeks holiday and I already feel exhausted. I've also done 50 1/2 hours work and I've still got a day of work this week. I dread to think about the two weeks before my holiday.Overtime this month will hurt to work out, but the biggest problem is

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-23392974456830052102007-10-14T21:28:00.000+01:002007-10-14T21:29:34.628+01:00

23/09/07After every major seismic activity the shape of the Earth changes. In itself that doesn't mean much, but it does have the interesting effect that it changes the speed of the Earth's spin. That in turn changes the length of a day.It's not by much: a few milliseconds at most. I believe the Boxing Day Eathquake the year before last added three milliseconds to the length of the day. Just

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-10354750943763774012007-09-23T14:57:00.000+01:002007-09-23T14:59:05.308+01:00

19/09/07These precious illusions in my head did not let me down when I was defenceless, and parting with them is like parting with an imaginary best friend.Maybe I'm not as great as I think I am. Maybe I don't hide it as well as I think I do.And maybe I'm ok with that.

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-14548363965795008892007-09-23T13:46:00.000+01:002007-09-23T15:00:43.303+01:00

14/09/07What kind of week it has been.I have about five things I'd like to write about and between them they cover the full range of emotion.There's something so soulless about London. So many hurt people in such a small area. Me included. But there's so much hope and humanity too. So much life. Like everyone's overcompensating for something.I became an uncle on tuesday. I reckon I might

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-14088797109900426082007-09-15T21:56:00.000+01:002007-10-14T21:45:11.867+01:00

05/09/07I don't like this week's hotel and I'm not sure why. Well, that's not true, I can point to a hundred little things all of which add up to why: the hoards of tourists blocking the lobby (no I'm not a tourist anymore) the lack of work surface space around the sink, power to the room involving putting the room card in a slot by the door, the list goes on. And on.The thing is that two

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-66040360892113346442007-09-15T21:25:00.000+01:002007-09-15T21:53:36.050+01:00

01/09/07I'm supposed to be on a flight up to Edinburgh for my parents Ruby anniversary. Unfortunately my flight has been delayed by about an hour and a half until 10:25am. I suppose it's good in some ways, since it means I didn't take the view that I could stay up later, but to be honest I could have really used the lie-in.Between this working in London during the week and a stag do next

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-62834469842011821972007-08-31T20:02:00.000+01:002007-08-31T20:17:39.821+01:00

30/08/07So for various reasons I'm not seeing Catriona and Sean tonight. Which is probably a good thing because tonight seems to be a night for long, slow thoughts. Quick, bright ones too, like how there's probably a market for restaurants selling good, fresh salads for businessmen and women in Central London, but really just long slow thoughts.Because I think it's safe to say that I'm one of

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-17823620531434502007-08-31T19:35:00.000+01:002007-08-31T19:55:22.456+01:00

29/08/07I bought a new book for this journal yesterday which means I spent all last night and all tonight copying the entries from one to another. This unfortunately means that my hand hurts, so this will probably be a short entry.The real shame about this was that I really wanted to write an entry last night but couldn't face having to write it out twice. Hopefully I'll be able to finish

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-30085392500739596212007-08-26T17:48:00.002+01:002011-01-19T13:38:21.517Z

23/08/07So really at this stage I should start to lay down some goals. I mean I've covered where I'm coming from and I've added some structure, but really it's not much of anything unless you have something to aim for.But then after 1 week I'm already starting to ignore my rules. No. 2 nearly went out the window. I was thinking of trying to write it at some point tomorrow. Probably on the

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-20279702467800337892007-08-25T18:47:00.004+01:002011-01-19T13:37:39.850Z

18/08/07Any good game must have rules, and if going to a new place and reinventing yourself is anything then it must be considered a game. So:1) All entries must be handwritten in a notebook.For now it's one that I happened to have lying around, but I think I'll try and buy a new one so that it's all contained in one place that's solely for this diary/self-exploration.2) At least one entry must

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2338118054438158457.post-32926829871813448842007-08-25T18:02:00.003+01:002011-01-19T13:36:48.986Z

13/08/07Today I discovered that I'll be in London for over a year now. It feels like I should chart this journey, and journey it is, hence the creation of this blog. But I should explain first.I have a great life in Southampton which I enjoy. But that's always been about the people and not the place. Southampton doesn't fit me. It honestly never has. I enjoy my time there, I like the place,

Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06407076475561954511noreply@blogger.com0