to an extent

That Day It's my birthday today, and I've nothing very profound to say on the subject, other than when I first woke up this morning I had a panic attack of sorts when watching a news report about the lonely elderly. The reasons:

(a) I looked at that woman, sitting alone at home, the most exciting thing to look forward to being the mail and hoping that I'll never be like that.

(b) Even though to an extent, right now, I do feel a bit lonely.

(c) At 34, I'll be forty in six years, fifty in sixteen years, sixty in twenty-six years and seventy when I've lived almost as many years as I have already.

(d) I don't feel like my situation's change much overall since I was in my early twenties.

(e) I still need to do something.

In other words, I'm Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally during the crying scene. Which is disturbing. Unless I can trade Billy Crystal for Mary-Louise Parker.

Update Good god that's a depressing post. I've actually had a very good day. Was given a boxset of swing music (Frank, Billie, Nat, Dean, Bing, Ella, Louis and the like) and loads of chocolate, watched some more of The West Wing, went to the Waitrose in Formby and bought some nice coffee, muesli and pasta, had chinese/indian for tea and just saw Tom Baker going quietly even more insane on Have I Got News For You. I'm ok really.


  1. Happy birthday Stu. You can always count on The West Wing. It's the most emotionally restorative TV series there is.

  2. Happy birthday, Stu. I saw that news story and had the same reaction. And I'm nearly fifty.

    I immediately went into Manchester and bought a pile of DVDs and books. I feel much better now. But the whole age thing was also part of my very emotional reaction to Terence Davies 'Of Time And The City' which I also saw yesterday.

    Unfortunately as you do get older you think about getting old. And there ain't much you can do abot that!

  3. Other than try and live forever!

  4. Stuart, many happy returns. Careful of that shelf at the top of your stomach...