Life as a House (et al)

Wake at 6.30am. Sleep. Wake at 7am. Sleep. Wake at 7.04am. Sleep. Wake at 8.30am. Alarm noise from encased-in-pink iPhone 3GS causes creeping sense of possibility of nervous disorder developing so decide finally to tip self from bed onto floor to pacify iPhone hubbub with recently built body blubber.

As with every morning realisation arrives with force of chemical train from Tony Scott film Unstoppable that self has not made single blog entry for eight months. Self has avoided blogging in order to pursue living, but thus far has been less successful than heroes in Tony Scott film, achieving instead increased isolation from most The Social Network(s) and borderline record-breaking alcohol binges (at uncertain time circa March 2011, self actually achieved record recognition when self beat feat by previous record holder [also self] of most number of failed attempts to open locked door). Self has also acquired superhuman anti-Casanovian/opposite-to-Michael-Douglas-in-SolitaryMan ability to be sexually unappealing to 95% of London’s female population. Moreover, self can claim at least six daily despair-induced micro heart attacks.

However, self has not been completely dormant. Self has, on more than one occasion, participated in film viewing. Film as medium for seven of last eight months has acted as life support machine. Following eviction from flat shared with now-non-flatmates Tom and Johnny, self was compelled to return with metaphorical tale between actual physical legs to childhood home to embark on new (though very similar to childhood) phase of living with self parents. Self “life” then put on pause whilst self looked for new flat.

Cutting long story short (technique self willing to teach Oliver Stone), self unsuccessful. On bright side, self now more familiar with career of Ed Harris as self enjoyed three film Ed Harris season including Copying Beethoven which led to self listening to moving melody Moonlight on repeat for several days.

Of late, self in far more productive mood, embarking on playwriting as new career with first play currently at word count of 20,500. (Self learnt truism from Oliver Stone that longer equals better [self not mathematician or Chess grandmaster so self in no position to judge truth element of noted truism].) Self rises (several times) relatively

early (for a layabout) before visiting gym (very rarely) to walk on treadmill and lie on soft mat before returning home to make portable lunch (2,000 calorie salad) and setting off (gracelessly) to write (type) play (vanity project) in (outside) Somerset House before going to work (“work”).

Plan is put to action with immediate effect today except visit to dentist replaces visit to gym. This is fine with self as self waistline close to becoming lost cause, whilst self teeth still surviving. Self lies in dentist chair whilst attractive female dentist inserts metal objects into lower half of self face, and self has pause to reflect on previous night’s activities.

Self attempted reintegration into former social circle by attending Samuel Smith’s drinking spot in Soho where non-flatmate Tom was supposedly drinking with non-flatmate Johnny, non-flatmate Georgia and non-flatmate Joe. Self arrived and guarded suspicion that self

had been invited as part of some cruel scheme to punish self for being over twelve stone revealed as definite possibility as self caught friend posse vacating premises just as self arrived early. Fears mostly dismissed when non-flatmate Tom noted that drinking spot full and posse headed to another Samuel Smith’s further down road. Non-flatmate Johnny surprisingly absent. Self positive this absence was part of some malicious strategy to punish self for living at home at age of twenty-four, double what self weighs. New fears mostly ignored when non-flatmate Johnny arrived at drinking spot an hour later.

Following half-successful involvement in conversation about subject of football which self does not have impressive knowledge of, topic transition occurred to talk of film. Self decided to make presence felt as self used to type blog about film. Self suffered immediate flailing as central to discussion was The Secrets in their Eyes which self has neither seen nor heard of. Self attempted brilliantly concealed distraction by leaving drinking spot for cigarettes with non-flatmate Joe, during which period drinking spot closed.

Relieved, self returned home to pick something simple to watch. Self thought that Life as a House, little referenced 2001 Kevin Kline drama directed by Irwin Winkler (who prefers to produce good films rather than direct them – with the exception of Life as a House), was appropriate to self’s circumstances, as self’s life much like a house, although house is dilapidated, contains only one room (a dungeon), has no occupants, and is haunted.

In spite of DVD box cover annoying promoting Hayden Christensen involvement in Star Wars franchise which self finds unfair to Hayden Christensen film Shattered Glass, which self prefers to first three/last three films of George Lucas franchise, self decided to fall asleep to Kevin Kline developing brilliant new system of weight loss (having a brain tumour), hanging out in shack on hilltop, jumping in sea from hilltop, building a house on hilltop to give to Hayden Christensen, kissing ex-wife Kristin Scott Thomas, and dying. Self maintained consciousness long enough to take uplifting spirit of film into self’s dreams.

Self reenters reality to face head-gear wearing hardbody dentist smiling at joke new-housemate father made. Self annoyed that self needs to type housemate prior to word father. But self loves father, so new incorporation not overly tragic. Self leaves dentistry-based maisonette to visit much grander sun stroked Somerset House and continue career as playsmith whilst listening to Adele’s new album. Overall, self’s life as a house in truth undergoing renovations, both structurally and superficially. Months between new blog post and antiquated last blog post have been character building. Realisation of home improvement brings smile to self’s chubby face. Life (as a house) is good.

About josh-in-reel-life

Often disgruntled blogger.
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