You're dear to me because I want to embrace you

Just as I got back into blogging, I managed to nearly break my finger thanks to cricket and my magic ‘cat-like’ reflexes. So I have to type without the middle finger of my right hand. This is quite tricky, as that finger is responsible for some of my favourite letters, such as I or P. So this blog entry is brought to you without those letters.

In an ominous changing of the guard, the day before I twatted up my finger I started tweeting. I have the vague excuse that it’s for my work and our nice editor explained to us that it’s important using lots of pictures of offices surrounded by walls, but really: I have no excuse.

But it makes sense at the moment, because you don’t need ten fingers to tweet. You only need one. Blogging is the past, twitter is the future; at least, until it is superseded by an even more micro blogging site, where one is able only to choose one’s favourite colour, provided it’s not brown or yellow. Or green. But by then we’ll be living in Matrix-style pods, so we’ll probably have more important things to worry about than letting people know that we’ve just done a poo. Like attempting to free the human race from the machines.

So as I’m flying to America tomorrow in order to get married to someone amazing, I thought I’d best blog to mark the occasion. I’ve always managed to mark the major and important moments of my life via blogging, such as when New Malden Wimpy shut down and when I got kicked out of Glastonbury.

Without wanting to use clichés like ‘it’s the end of an era’, it’s the end of an era. My twenties are coming to an end, New Malden, or at least my presence in it, is again coming to an end (one and the same thing, surely).

And it’s also goodbye – joyful goodbye – to this strange period of waiting, of being separated from the one other person I’ve ever met that makes exactly as little sense as I do, of heartbreaking airport farewells, of late night silence and cheese.

I’ve tried to stay busy. There are many things I vowed to do with my spare time, and some I have achieved, like learning German, knitting a ladder to the moon and become a ukulele virtuoso. I also debunked every conspiracy theory since JFK and made some crop circles.

Unfortunately the last paragraph contains some exaggeration. But that’s the thing – when Morgan and I are finally living in the same country, which barring major disasters should be in less than a month, anything will be possible again. There are so many things I’m looking forward to doing with her – from the boring to the ridiculous; from the banal to the sublime. We have trains to catch, cakes to bake, bikes to ride, songs to sing, projects to write.

We just have to try not to spend all of our time staying in watching Azumanga Daioh.