I was going to write the pitch, the idea behind it, the blog that is so good it can't possibly fail.
I was going to write it all to sell myself on the idea, the proverbial kick up the bum.
And then, thinking 'I'll just look at some photos for inspiration before I start writing', I figured something else out. Well, I say figured something else out as though I didn't already know. Like when you go to the dentist: 'oh I didn't realise it had been eight years', or you left the toilet seat up (usually as a fuck you).
But I digress.
Life's about the Oh My God moments. Not in a Natalie Portman/Mila Kunis going at it sort of way - though life can definitely be about that too - but in a 'Oh My God I can't believe that lake is so blue', or 'Oh My God I can't believe I'm standing on top of this mountain' sort of way.
The moments where you know as soon as it's happening that you'll be sitting on your rocking chair, Pimms and lemonade in hand, 60 years from now and turn to your equally thirsty wife and say, "did I ever tell you about the most blue lake I ever saw?" You might even debate whether bluest is a word, as I did before going with most blue.
I have a photo album full of them, and every time I look at the photos my mind is blown all over again. I'm so damn lucky to have had these experiences, but I want it again. I want it like bluest wants to be a word. I want it as much as I wanted Titanic to be over, the first time the Celine Dion song came on.
And then real life calls. Life with the mortgage, the job and the commitments.
Well, I have a little secret. One I'm working on, hoping it becomes a reality. One where I tell real life to get fucked. Just for a bit. And I'd say it ever so politely. But the message remains: Get fucked. I want my Oh My God moments.
Incorrect cliche use of the week: "There's no point crying over spilt beer."
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