28 before 28 - the list.

It was my birthday 2 weeks ago.

For those that sent me a present, you’re great! For the rest of you – you’ll have only yourselves to blame when the time comes for the next Facebook friend cull.

                                            

It was the usual day of celebrations, salutations for the year passed, mixed with inspiration and aspirations for the year ahead (not to mention the dread at leaving ‘mid-twenties’, but that’s a whole other kettle of boiled fish).

                                                                     

And just like new years, birthdays inspire that sort of reflection where human nature takes over and we think about all the things we want to do better (rather than how much we achieved in the past 12 months).

And I did exactly this two weeks ago.

I started thinking about how on the 9^th April 2014, I want to look back on all the good and great things I’ve got up to, and therefore be able to mark it as a ‘more successful’ year.

Like Andy Dufresne said; “get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’…”

Luckily, I’ve met some pretty interesting friends on my travels, and they were more than happy to suggest things for me to do and tick off in the next year.

So, without further ado, here’s my 28 things to do before I turn 28…

1. Write a letter/postcard to my grandparents every month
2. Draw a flip book cartoon
3. Get high
4. Go to one of the country's most expensive restaurants and pay no attention to the price
5. Feed the ducks once a month
6. Write a short story
7. Start a pension
8. Go veggie for at least a month
9. Visit at least 4 lower league football grounds in/around London
10. Go and see one new film every month
11. Have a night out in Chester with old uni folk
12. Complete 3 peaks challenge  
13. Sing karaoke
14. Complete an Airfix model
15. Visit Stonehenge
16. Start to learn a new language
17. Complete a Man v food challenge (and win!)
18. Sleep under the stars
19. Visit one touristy hotspot in London every month
20. Go to a proper rave and stay up all night and all of the next day
21. Get up early and have breakfast while watching the sunrise
22. Help on a soup run/homeless kitchen
23. Write and post 28 letters to inspire 28 strangers
24. Give at least one stranger a compliment every week
25. Run a half marathon
26. Don’t shave for a month
27. Go to see a band I’ve never heard of
28. Visit a European Country I’ve never been to before

The road rolls on…

Loved for its easy-going attitude and lusted after for its sun and surf – the picture-perfect Pacific coast line of California is home to Hollywood and so many favourite films from countless childhoods.

But the Golden State is more than this. Much more. Escaping the zip and whip of London to embark on a 1,500 mile, fortnight-long road trip to join the dots between two friends’ weddings (Modesto, CA; and Phoenix, AZ), I couldn’t fail to notice California’s unique sense of perspective and personality.

From fun-filled San Francisco where freedom drips from the skies to the teasing twists and turns of the Pacific Coast Highway that slips down from Frisco into LA on towards San Diego and beyond…

The fresh coastal air of the West hangs loose and languid, imbued with the privilege of spontaneity that cools your soul as you breathe in its undeniably empowering sense of self, and take in what it has to offer…

The touristy favourites are un-missably well documented – the glory of the Golden Gate Bridge, the sumptuously stunning wine country and the unbeatable beauty of Big Sur; but venture deeper than the cities and the real, raw California reveals itself…

Then the exploring begins!

Dusty and timeless hiccupping hills sit patiently on the roadsides as you weave your way through a natural labyrinth with a thousand possible exits but no discernible 'end'. In truth, driving along one of California's arterial highways is an adventure in itself, and none more so than the unerring reel of road that is Highway 1 as it rolls on and unfurls around the coastal cliff-sides of Big Sur and off into the horizon…

The roads are wickedly windy and make for great driving while the innumerable 'vista points' offer plenty opportunities to capture the awesome expanse of the Pacific Ocean in all its sun-glistening glory before the night comes to reveal the clearest of star-lit Californian skies.

Be warned though; a single night at any of the campgrounds along the coast and wanderlust-fuelled madness creeps in. But alongside this madness comes the understanding of why the sun gravitates so naturally to the West every night; once you’ve seen the sky turn blue to blood red over the softly-shimmering Pacific, you realise there is no other place to watch the sun set than the wild and wonderful West…

Who wants 'perfect'...?

Who wants perfect? What can you do with it? You can sit and admire it, I guess...but who wants to sit and watch??

Personally, I say screw perfection! Screw it, leave it in a crumpled mess on the floor and walk casually out the door without a backward glance.

I'm looking for something else, something bigger, something more...

The quest for 'perfect' drives us around the bend before delivering us at the doorstep of insanity! It makes mockeries of us all before madness descends inevitably and predictably...

And even if we do get ‘it', if we ever make it into the VIP Lounge – is it worth the struggle? God no! Of course not. Only one thing is worth losing your sanity over, and that's love.

That's the one thing that surely nothing else can ever come above...

Now don't get me wrong - the quest for perfection is something everyone should have and revel in – it keeps us hungry and on our toes. But perfection itself promotes laziness and inspires fear – the fear hidden in the most awful haunting hang-ups of the fall that dwells beneath, beneath the veneer of vanity saved exclusively for those at 'the top'...

And y'know what? That just ain't for me.

I want raggedy, off-key, improvisation born out of a lust for something else! And how can you want something else when you're perfect??

I mean Einstein wasn't perfect - just look at his raggedy coat and wild, untameable hair...he was bonkers and a complete kook! But why should he care?

Though on reflection, I guess you could argue that it's all just a myth, this idea of perfection.  I mean any boss will tell you there's no such thing as 'perfect', right? So I guess there's nothing for me to worry about. Phew - now I'll sleep easy tonight…

Just a thought...

The secret to eternal happiness

What's the difference between kids and adults? Age? Yes. Grey(ing) hair? Yes. (lack of) Energy? Yes.

The most obvious thing I can see is that they (the kids) are happy. We (power) walk where they run, we go the long way around where they jump and climb, and where we smile and nod they giggle and laugh.

Now with that in mind, let me ask; are you happy?

Wait - before you answer, sit there and think about something for a minute.

Picture the scene...

You're 5 years old. The summers are warm, people are honest and the news is just funny looking people talking about things happening in far away places that don't affect you.

You're happy. You're excited. You're inquisitive.
 

But why are you so excited? Why are you so happy?

As we get older, we develop a proclivity for worry. Don't get me wrong - I get it. Hell, I'm in the same boat. Be it personal ("why doesn't she love me??"), professional ("I bet she'd love me if I got a promotion!") or financial ("if I got that promotion, I’d pay her to love me!"), we all develop a sense of preoccupation that sort of takes over our sense of intrigue and curiosity that is so dominant when we're young.

But as we grow older, our responsibilities grow and we become more self-aware (unless you're one of the Kardashian klan, in which case you develop neither of these attributes.)

Now these are (arguably) necessary traits, so we should be capable of dealing with them and still being happy, right? 

And yet. And yet...

So what's the difference between us then and us now? What's the reason for the fundamental change in our state of happiness as we grow older? And more importantly, how can we change to return to our younger, happier selves?

Well to put it bluntly; we know too much.  Or rather as we grow up, we lose the thrill of discovery.

When we're young, everything is new and everything is an adventure - even a trip to the shops is exciting because we're seeing new things and new people and we're learning about all of them, all of the time!

And this - this one, tiny epiphany - is the secret to happiness!

 

 
 

Y'see, it's obvious to me that the secret to happiness lies in living in a state of perpetual discovery.

Be it people, places, things or skills; the happiest people are those that carry on down the road of self-improvement.

And the funny thing? You know I'm right.

Think back to when you last wore that child-wide grin of excitement, or when you laughed uncontrollably (like you would never laugh in the office!), or when you tried something new and revelled in regaling friends and family about your latest achievement...these moments when we dare are the moments we are happiest because we are discovering something about ourselves. Even if it's where our own limits lie (if you believe in such things)...

As for me; one of the last new things I dared to do was to throw myself down a big old hill in an oversized beach-ball filled with fairy liquid. Some people call this ‘zorbing’. As for me, I call it ‘awesome!’. I went ‘awesoming’.

So now you know the secret to happiness, I challenge you all to try something new - go somewhere new, buy a new instrument, try a new sport or say hello to someone you haven't spoken to before and ask about what they do! It's simple!

I challenge you to find something new out about the world or yourself; I dare you to recapture the thrill of discovery and why not help yourself to an 'adventurer's badge' when you have?

Just a thought...

The world in a rain drop...

On the bus top roof the rain hammers down, relentless and persistent without really making a sound...

Along the road to work I plough, and for the first time I now notice the rain that drains on down...

So there I sit in a puddle of wet coats and steamed up windows, my attention focused on this crystal drip hanging in front of my cold, red nose...

The journey of this rain drop becomes my morning's fixation, as I track its path ahead with half-minded abandon and boyish anticipation...

So there i sit, wet hair aflop, staring at the world through the inside of this big ol' rain drop...creeping and crawling along to its inevitable watery stop...

And through its wavering prism one bright light explodes into a dozen brazen lies, as it transforms the whole wide world into the brightest colours before it drips, falls and dies...

So I go on with my journey, just like the crowds around me, unaware of the art that unfolds around us, if we could only stop to see...

The world in a raindrop...I've seen what there is to see, and it's plenty bright for me! But ask yourself, when did you last take the time to stand and look. And stop?

Just a thought...

Celebration skies...

Ladies and gentlemen, the new year is here.

 

It has begun.

How do I know this? Well for one, the date (bit of a give away).

But I know the new year has really begun now because this morning I was greeted by the most sumptuous of sights...

It was at once fresh and unforgettable. Blinding and beautiful. Spectacular and serene. A masterpiece for you and me.

It was the sun giving us the go-ahead to rouse ourselves from our 2012 hangovers and start making our future, exactly that - ours!

It was the biggest and brightest of disco balls kick-starting the 2013 party by setting off a thousand party poppers, sending them streaming across the celebration skies against a backdrop of never before seen sunshine!

What more could we want??

Happy new year - don't waste a minute of it!

 

London declares war!

BREAKING NEWS: Ladies and gentlemen, it is my unfortunate duty to inform you that on this day, London has declared itself in a state of war.

To ensure Londoners make it through this bleak period, the following protocol must be observed at all times;

- Do not go out after 10pm, especially if you're averse to drink, drugs or the dreaded...'homeless' (this should be fine for most of you because you won't be leaving work until 10pm most evenings anyway)

- Stock up on all essentials; coffee, diet Coke, Pret sandwiches, cigarettes and cheap champagne are 100% necessities

- If it is absolutely unavoidable that you must venture out, be sure to avert your gazes from anyone you may come across. Eye contact is strictly prohibited (not to mention wholly uncomfortable)

- Talk to no-one; any of those people around you could be dangerous. Keep yourself to yourself at all times

Sounds awful, huh? But then again, how is this different from any other day in the capital?

Y'see, after nearly 4 years here, it's only recently began to dawn on me how remarkably crazy the culture and etiquette of London really is...remarkable in its unflinching brutality and crazy in its unspoken yet universal understanding!

London is a city of 8 million people all rubbing shoulders with each other throughout their crazy whirlwind days. Or i should say that it's a city full of 8 million strangers desperately avoiding each other's gaze.

 Go on the tube and what do you hear? Not a word - just the faint electric hum of silence. This is the backdrop that keeps us from feeling awkward on our daily commute. There is a strict code of conduct in the capital, and it will be observed! But the question is when did this mantra of isolation and distance become the de facto dictum for how this great city should conduct itself?

When did silence conquer conversation? When did friendly become offensive? When did sorry become the instinctive response?

More to the point, walk anywhere in central London and what do you notice? Besides the absence of conversation, what is unmissable to the point of being tangible? Yup, the attitude(s).

We strut these streets like each turn takes us onto a new catwalk, each more salubrious and serious than the next...focused on ourselves and those watching us...but when did London's ego get so big that we decided we don't have to move for each other? We are the diva celebs in our own imagined play!

And those around us? Pfft. Extras milling about in the background to our big show...

The old are inconvenient in their dawdlings; the sick are weak for getting sick in the first place; tourists are loathed for their slow, wide-eyed-wanderings; and prammed-up parents are cannon fodder for the commuter elite; unless you're a hardened Londoner with a cultured ability to mind your own business and a nose for 'get where you're going', then the chances are you're gonna be just another casualty of war.

And make no mistake, folks - this city is at war. The first city-based civil war of the modern age. East against West, North against South, young against old, the accustomed against the unsure.

But who's who? Who's friendly and who's foe? How do you spot them? Well once you know, you can spot a true(ly trained) Londoner from 10 tube carriages!

A true Londoner smiles for no-one, avoids everyone and blinks at nothing. Nothing phases us. We have learned that reaction is dangerous, danger is a delay, and delays are expensive. And there are only two things we hate more than expense, and they are having a slow internet connection (oo er, missus!) and worse of all, a dying phone battery (yikes!)

We are London. We are prepped. We are driven (literally wherever we want to go). And we are caffeinated. But more importantly, we are getting where we're going. Ay. Ess.,Ay. Fackin'. Pee.

But don't worry - you won't notice us. No no no. We'll be hiding our faces behind our morning copy of the Metro reading about things we already know; or we'll be busy averting our gaze thanks to our Blackberrys and iPhones, because this city is a strictly 'no conversation zone'...

Just a thought...