Francesco posted this fantastic Proustian quote on my moblog: "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes."

So my plan for week one of the summer was beholden to this quotation. And day one began thus: detention at work (I decided to do three hours work at 9am each day this week - I get paid the same if I do it or not, so the only purpose is to get me into and out of bed at half reasonable times); wander into a part of London I think I know and take photos (started with a challenge - Beckenham; difficult to find anything but listless office workers and Marks and Spencers); go see a movie (Spiderman 2 - even more a bunch of fucking arse than Spiderman 1 was - ninety minutes till it gets going, fact fans! And while 1 at least ended the torture on an interesting, very adult premise - setting aside personal need for duty ... 2 reverses this. 2's message is do what the fuck you like, and don't worry who you trample over while you do it, everyone will love you for 'being yourself'. Forget about the little guy. Aaarrrgh!); then kick back at home and write, then read, or listen, or watch something (Radio 4 are serialising 'Ripley's Game' at ten forty-five each night this week, read by Stanley Tucci - it's going to be most axcellent, it's one of Highsmith's best books. And you can listen via the web, too, fact fans).

So far, so .... well, so a plan. Plan B.

It doesn't stop me worrying that my summer is going to be so boring it sends me insane, or rather, even more insane than last year did, but it's a routine, and when in a tight spot, I've learnt a routine can save you.

My imperatives are:
I have two small cats to be devoted to, so I can't travel;
I have less than no money to spend, so I can't travel, eat, drink or socialise;
my mates are all on holiday, so I can't socialise;
I need to lose six pounds, so I can't eat;
I'm a loony fucker, so I can't drink;
my car is finally fixed and legal and only costing me back payments, so I *can* drive anywhere, as long as I can get back the next day to feed cats.

The balance is precarious: a sense of personal injury against the world for my lack of money, combined with deep introspection, and a lazy streak.
Which are the perfect conditions to create a monster: an overblogging geeko keyboard warrior.
*This* is the reason the blog must end this week. I can't spend another fucking summer online because I'm busy waiting for a life to happen.

So, apart from the money issue, it's okay. When my parents asked me what I want for my birthday, I thought about what I don't currently possess - the satisfaction of shopaholicism and greed, so asked for a meal out or a new outfit. The new outfit looks superfunkycool, which makes it feel less like I can't afford to even park in most of Greater London, which makes me less resentful of having to think about amounts of money I'd not previously had to blink over.
#1.60 for a coffee. #1.30 to park outside Iceland in Penge. #0.50 to send a fax. The minor, bruising indignities of a life you had thought you'd left behind at 24.

I was going to bank on the sale going through, max my credit card out, rent a cottage somewhere, drive my cats up, then proceed to issue invitations to friends. This was plan A, the better plan than B.
The sudden wave of bad luck last week when I became one of the first in the country to get my car clamped for being untaxed, and to be fined for being in a bus lane cost me #500, in toto, and made me realise that I *need* that spare space on the credit card - it's the last safety net I have left.
So, no cottage. No holiday (didn't have one last year, after I crashed my car). No sense of entitlement to Tesco Super Luxury Ready Meals For One.

Best Blo'te of the Day So Far: SarahSpace
"1. Are Spiderman?s superpowers a metaphor for his penis? Is it one of those ?I am going to fight crime with my enormous cock? type things?
2. I completely believe that it is possible to bitten by a radioactive spider and get turned into a Spiderman, but this Dr. Oct thing seems completely improbable. Why were the arms needed? What do the 4 extra arms have to do with creating fusion? Am I the only person who is bothered by the implausibility of this? And isn?t there a flaw in your thinking about creating a new power source that needs electricity to maintain itself? Spiderman pulls the plug out of the wall and everything stops?"