It is over a bloody year since I started this blog.
A year on, I'm drinking wine at my new desk, thinking about the weekend. At least I was when I began this post. That's how low on my list of priorities this has become. It's because there are no deadlines, no boss - except myself and I'm a slacker at heart. There's no charges if I fail to post, no disappointed faces if I fail to show up. No one to sheepishly text if i'm bailing, no one to worry if I come home drunk and disgraced - or not show up at all.
The addition of a blog to my life has meant i have another thing to feel guilty about not doing. And, in the same way it must irritate my boys that 'everyone's a DJ', the fact that everyone has a blog means that no matter where I look there is another writer brandishing a more industrious diligance to their art, and a URL with updated content to boot.
Well, S, J and B - this one's for you. You've all helped me remember how it can be to have a new friend - breathless, inspiring and life-giving. You're all fucking awesome. And I appreciate the urging, the nagging, the cherished requests for my words more than I can ever describe. And I am stating here and now that I will document what's currently occurring in the freakish heart of Bow - because it's too special not to and really, I don't think it will ever repeat.
In other news, the fickle torchlight of my attentions is currently fluttering over the shiny surface of swing dance, my home life remains a schizophrenic haven of tranquility and wildness and we all know we may be kicked out at any time but still secretly believe it will go on forever.
Life. Goes. On.
