Let me just clarify that this isn’t a diary. The sad fact is, any diary I have ever kept has always ended up being illegibly scrawled details of what I have eaten and angst ridden prose about shadows and cobwebs. I did attempt to keep a diary in the summer of 1991, but that just mutated into lists of tennis players that I fancied and Vic Reeves’ quotes. But rest assured, this is NOT a diary. This is a ‘series of letters’. That does sound much grander, doesn’t it. You never know, it could end up being serialised in the Daily Mail, so keep your fingers crossed, right?
So, of course, you died two and a half months ago, I thought I would be able to type that without any serious ‘welling’ of the eye, but no. I blame New Year’s Eve personally. Ever since I found out that you’d gone, I have dreaded leaving you in 2012. It’s odd, I can cope ok with not seeing you, and just chug along with our day to day lives here, but then I’ll feel absolutely desolate about the fact that you will not see the new series of Doctor Who. I feel the most upset about how you don’t get to be alive anymore and do the things you were planning to do. You were cheated by a low down, dirty, rotten universe, and that stings me more than anything I can possibly describe.
2012 was a year we’d all be looking forward to with much, (anxious) anticipation for so long. We couldn’t believe it when London actually pulled the Olympics off, could we? I was so grateful to have you popping up on my Facebook comments and discussions, whilst I watched endless opening and closing ceremonies. I felt connected, just enough to make me feel as though I wasn’t missing out on the party. I thank you for that, Sarah. So, it’s with absolute dread that I face the closing of this year. I have this terrible feeling that you will be left behind, to gather dust next to all the other Olympic and Jubilee memories of 2012. A golden and happy time that touched us once, but has since passed on. To be fondly remembered but never experienced again. I’m so determined for that not happen you wouldn’t believe. This is the main reason for this blog, that and the fact that I like talking and you no longer have the option to tell me to shut up. Just kidding, you always let me blether on regardless.
Do you remember our last conversation, it was a skype call? It was our Sunday evening and your Sunday morning. I was grumpy because I’d sunburnt my shins and you were wearing your dressing gown. You were telling us about the new series of Strictly and about how Johnny Ball had managed to break his partner’s ankle, and I was telling you that I probably wouldn’t be watching because it’s so tedious trying to track down episodes on the internet. Well, we DID end up watching it. Heck, even Dan got obsessed with the show after we came back to Australia. Alex is absolutely in love with Dani Harmer, and I loved ’em all. Even Denise, who was so good at the beginning she cheated us all out of a ‘journey’, and subsequenty didn’t earn the love of the viewers. We all love a ‘journey’ don’t we? I think you would have loved Louis the best. He gave good Swayze in his Dirty Dancing number and he was polite and cheeky and… buff. He won the trophy, you’ll be glad to know. Goodness, I didn’t want it to end. Something about you having seen the beginning of the series made me feel connected to you. Naturally, I made Lego figure versions of most of the contestants. A perfectly normal thing to do, right? I’ll bung the pictures up on here, if I can work out how to do it.
New Year’s Eve was quite special you, wasn’t it? I’ve hated it for years, but I did go out and buy some glow-sticks in your honour. Alex, Dan and I plan to go out and stay awake long enough to see in 2013. We may even go to a party. We’ll see. I have to work tomorrow, so maybe I won’t be too crazy.
One thing about New Year that really stings this year, is the Best of 2012 news round-ups. It’s impossible to look at them without viewing everything as either before or after your death. Things that you may have heard of but didn’t live to see are especially hard to take. Like that pranny who jumped from outer space from a balloon. And that chubby Korean bloke having a youtube hit with that bloody annoying Gangnam song. I’m trying hard not to be a Bitter Betty, but it does seem rather unfair that some absolute assclowns are going to be seeing in the New Year, when you won’t be. I have found that I have lost all tolerance with ‘difficult’ old people. Cute and lovely old people are fine, but elderly asshats can take a running jump, as far as I am concerned. I struggle to understand why they have been given all this extra time that they have done nothing to deserve. But as I was saying, I will try not to become a total Bitter Betty. Maybe just a partial Bitter Betty. Possibly with a bit of work I could become a Better Billy. Only fate knows these answers
So that’s my first letter to you, Sarge. I will try not to accidentally delete it, like I did the first attempt. I will also try very hard to keep writing them, and not just end up telling you about my lunch and certain dishy tennis players, (though that may be more difficult in July, when Wimbledon is on.) I’ll leave you with a sneak preview of my New Year’s Resolution list, just to whet your appetite.
In 2013 I am determined to learn how to dance the Charleston, properly.
Yes, I do want to live in my own private version of Bugsy Malone. Of course, I will provide video evidence if this actually ever happens, I just can’t promise that it will be very pretty.
So ta-ta for now. I’m off to party like it’s 1929.
All my love, Splodge