Diary of an up and coming sociopath

Just before it becomes inappropriate, here’s my look back at 2006. I wrote this a while back and it needed some tidying, hence the late appearance, but I’m sure we can all appreciate that it’s not the most urgent thing in the world. Maybe it’ll remind you all that the year is still in its infancy, even though it doesn’t really feel that way anymore.

Previous years I did this are 2005, 2004 and 2003.

January appears to be “wildlife month” following last year’s mouse antics. Not quite as destructive as bombs but equally unifying to a city of people desperate for any break in the tedium of routine, it’s The London Whale.

February was looking grim until, inspired by a particularly ghostly episode of Quantum Leap, I became a fully-qualified parapsychologist. As much as that requires qualification. If you have any ghostly or paranormal problems, well, I’m your guy.

We brought it back to earth slightly in March, managing to get to see Placebo perform and sign at Oxford Street Virgin Megastore. Kind of a pity it was their most dubious album to date, but it was still a unique chance to see one of my favourite bands at a distance usually reserved for stalkers and familiy members.

At the start of April, Josh and I spent one bored evening creating our surrealist masterpiece art-site using only Google Pages, Google Images and increasingly sleep-deprived ravings.

Shortly after that, Nintendo conspired to make sure that for the rest of the year people would think I needed the toilet every time I tried to talk about their new console. It’s testament to the genius of the machine that a name like this didn’t kill it stone dead. It’ll never stop being stupid, though.

Having experienced Douglas Coupland a few years back, it seemed only fair that I give my second-favourite writerer, Chuck Palahniuk the same pleasure. This was a particularly enjoyable evening where I wandered around the south bank in an excessively peaceful before hearing a reading of my favourite book of ‘06, Haunted.

In May I conspired with Seb to head over to the Bristol Comicon. It’s an event I’ve eyed up many a year, but never really fit in before. The trading floor is like a giant back-issue shop and for the first time ever I actually saw a comics writer or two in person that I’d actually heard of. An experience that may be repeated this year.
Then in June, it was yet more writers, this time we saw Douglas Coupland do a reading of his latest novel, jPod, which I also reviewed for NTS.

First festival of this year (first of 2, I mean) was June’s free O2 Wireless festival, wherein we sat in terrible heat and drank excellent milkshakes while watching eels. The band, I mean. I also appear to have bought my DS Lite immediately beforehand. As the only console I’ve bought on launch day, I consider it a worthwhile investment. I’ve had my hundred quid’s useage out of it, anyway.

Heading more towards July now, we find the S****a A****s Flim Night Outdoor Thingy, to use its full (sponsorship deleted) title. DJ Yoda was a particular highlight of that evening. Walking uphill a lot wasn’t. A few weeks after this event Lauren Laverne accidentally played the advert for it again in one of her ad-breaks, which deeply confused my half-awake mind as I tried to figure out whether I’d gone back in time. Still, I forgive her.

Despite the ridiculous heat of a London Summer, Josh, Nikki and I still found time to meet that feisty Scotsman and IRC veteran Dave in the flesh, thus proving that meeting people on the Internet isn’t just for social retards and fucking.

In August, we attended the second (of 2) festivals, with the Staffordshire V Festival. Because Radiohead were playing and we’re fanboy/fangirl. I did get introduced to Captain, though, who musically dominated my brain throughout the latter half of the year.
Then shortly after my 24th Birthday, managing to eclipse the tail end of the world’s celebrations for me, Steve Irwin finally got what he’d been asking for. My suggestion is to start making your bets for the 2007 dead pool now. Fidel Castro is probably a pretty safe option, though I’d like to throw in Patrick Moore and The Queen as my outsider choices. I would’ve said James Brown but he beat me to it. I hope he feels good.

Throughout July, August and September, we all faced the truly horrible spectre of moving house. Nothing is so horrendous. I did drive a van, which was equal parts cool and horrible. I don’t expect to be moving house anytime soon again though, sweet jesus.

In October, there’s only one way to say it. Alan Fucking Moore! A legend in his own time. Seems like in November, nothing happened. Or maybe I was too beaten from work to actually blog about it. Actually, in November I technically moved from Travel to Shopping at work, I suppose that’s an event worth mentioning, even though I’m sure it interests you lot only about as much as it interested me.

Then, in December, a year and half’s anticipation/whining came to fruition when Josh got hisself a Wii! And then connected it to my television, in our house. So I got a controller for it as well, just to shoehorn in on the situation. There’s a shortage of especially desirable games once you’ve got past Wii Sports and Zelda, but on the other hand, that’s a lot of gaming right there in itself.

And so 2006 passes into the annals of history. It has its good points, I’ll admit.