Indecision

I couldn't quite decide how to begin, perhaps I should start with a selection of every day decisions that I and presumably many other people struggle with on a daily basis, perhaps I should narrate the thoughts going through my mind as I struggle to make an almost impossible decision, before doing a hilarious pull back and reveal to the incredibly simple decision I am actually faced with, another option could be to build a case claiming that indecisiveness is actually a debilitating condition and attempting to collect for a made up charity to support the victims of indecisiveness across the world.

All great idea's but all ideas I came up with after the brilliant idea I had originally to pretend I couldn't decide how to begin, after which I was forced to come up with feasible ideas for how else it could be started, ironically meaning that I had failed in my attempt to start it indecisively by actually making a decision.

 

Though thinking about it now, all 3 of those ideas sound better than what I have written so far, maybe I will go back up and actually do one of them, I quite like the charity one...

I have quite a bit of difficulty making decisions, not big decisions, they're quite easy, I can book a holiday or buy a car on a whim (availability of funds being the only potential road block to either decision), because why think about it? If I need a car, why not just buy one? If we want to go on holiday, just book a holiday!

No the decisions that cause me real trouble are the ones that seem unimportant to most, things like "What do you want for tea?" "Do you want some of this cake or that cake?" "Do you want to watch this tv show or that tv show today?" The decisions just don't happen no matter how hard I try.

I do what I can to avoid making these sort of decisions, I will attempt to foist them off onto someone else:

"Oh you decide" 

Or pretend I don't believe there is a decision to be made or care what the outcome is:

"Oh, I don't mind" 

Or if the decision is offered from a distance, perhaps up the stairs of my house, I could make a noise that sounds something like an answer and hope that the recipient makes the choice or me:

"Oooeighoba".

Perhaps the reason these are so difficult is because they have little to no bearing on the outcome of the proceedings, they're like the start of one of those adventure games, the ones with multiple endings, like the ones made by quantic dream - Heavy Rain and so on, at the start you get simple decisions to make, they give you a taste for how things work, but you will be directed onto the next part in the same way regardless of what you decide.

Or perhaps I'm worried that it will actually turn out to be the most important decision I ever make, that defines the progression of my life from that point onwards, if everything went wrong in the future, I would find myself looking back at my life and ruing the day I so casually went for that apple pie, if only I could have another chance, I would do it differently, I swear!

I don't know which one it is, you decide.

'Now Bend My Spoon': One Man's Tragic Mistake

It must have been about 1967, my newspaper was doing a piece on the Soviet Air force and I was sent along to a military air base near Moscow where I was to meet a Colonel who was going to go show me some of the new air craft and describe some of their new techniques as part of the section on the air force in the modern day. I had another appointment in the afternoon with a retired pilot who could give me some insight into flying during war time.

I was already very late when I arrived, mostly due to their rigorous security protocol, which I couldn't really criticise due to the nature of the place I was visiting. So it was that I found myself waiting outside an office, with only an hour to go before I was due to meet my next appointment.

I was pretty certain by this point that I would not make the appointment on time and just hoped that there would be a telephone I could use to call the office and let them know. Perhaps if we skipped the tour of the new air craft then I could probably make it within about an hour of when I was expected, that wouldn't be too bad, my photographer hadn't been allowed in anyway for security reasons and that was our main reason for wanting to see them today.

When the door to the office opened I was greeted by a short man with a huge smile, who took my hand and shook it firmly, putting me instantly at ease, my simmering annoyances falling away in an instant.

I followed him back into the small room, it had a small wooden desk, behind which he sat, offering me the 2nd chair facing him.

I sat and pulled out my notebook while looking round the room, it was undecorated and apart from the 3 pieces of furniture the only other feature other was a small barred window through which I could see the perimeter fence and some security personnel standing outside.

I looked up at the friendly face of the man sat opposite me.

“Thank you for coming in, do you like what you've seen so far?”

“Oh yes, and thank you for seeing me it's a great honour to...”

At this the man appeared to blush. “I take it you recognise me?”

Now was my turn to feel slightly embarrassed, this man had an air of familiarity about him, but I just could not place him

“Sorry, I err...”

“I'm Yuri G...”

I interrupt before he can finish, excited that I may have heard of him after all “Oh are you that magician guy? The one with the spoons?”

I reach down into my small bag, certain I have one with my lunch, where is it? where is it?.

“No! Absolutely not...”

“Here it is” I sit back upright brandishing a small silver spoon.

“I said no, I'm Yuri Gagarin. I'm a very famous astronaut. I was the first man in space!”

“I've never heard of you, Now bend my spoon!”

Building My Blanket Fort

During my 27 years on this earth, I have learnt many things: the correct pronunciation of the word 'hyperbole', how to make my own Reese's peanut butter cups, and that I will start composting with good intentions and then quickly fall out of the habit when I realise the compost bin is outside and inside is easier.

The other thing that I have learnt is how to build a blanket fort with no effort whatsoever.

Having basically lived in a small double bedroom for several years, when James and I moved into our own house, I had certain aspirations. I wanted fancy paintings on the walls (we have a Breaking Bad calendar), a garden full of flowers (Hahahahahaha thanks, rabbits) and the ability to walk around in my pants with no judgement (nailed that one, actually).

Realising that the first thing on that list takes taste, the second takes effort and the third is actually too easy to fulfil, I quickly added another thing: I wanted to build a blanket fort.

Having not long moved in, the house was sparsely furnished. The living room therefore had plenty of space for my fort. I quickly set to work. The plans were drawn in crayon (in my mind. The actual crayons may have still been packed away. Or they may not have existed. Probably that, really, I was in my mid-20s at the time)

I decided that the most structurally sound way to go was to use a washing maiden as a frame. I placed it on the carpet. Although it took all of my concentration not to bump the maiden into the chair or dining table, using a ready-made frame has the advantage of there being very little to do in terms of anything except placement and draping over a cover.

The next step was to drape over a cover. I did this artfully. A huge amount of things can go wrong at this stage- the cover could be inside out, it could be damp or it could smell. A novice could encounter all three at once. Thankfully, with my plans in hand, I easily avoided all of these common pitfalls. I would certainly recommend having your own plan within easy reach throughout the building process if you ever decide to construct your own blanket fort. It will save tears and sanity.

Once the draping had finished there was one final step: getting inside the fort. My number one tip at this stage is to be comfortable. This was actually something that I overlooked at the planning stage and, during the de-briefing, I wondered whether I should have involved my aforementioned pants-only dream. Thankfully, it was a happy accident that I didn't include it, as I quickly realised that sitting on the floor in this way could have led to carpet burn. It's never worth risking an unnecessary injury when making a blanket fort.

My fort uniform of choice ended up being pyjamas and big furry slippers that my nan and granddad bought me for Christmas. The ensemble was both comfortable and robust enough to take excessive floor sitting without wearing through. The slippers also made for a great visual, as my fort was small, meaning my feet poked through. A great choice all round.

With the blanket fort completed, I spent a very happy 20 minutes or so sitting inside it until I got bored and wanted to watch TV again. James was there to greet me upon my emergence from the fort and he could not have been prouder. Seeing the finished product has not yet inspired him on to make his own, but I am hopeful that one day, James will also take on the blanket* fort challenge.

*Actually, I have only just now realised that I did not build a blanket fort. I used a duvet cover. My apologies for the misleading piece. Please disregard.

Jumpers vs. Hoodies: The eternal question

Throughout childhood, like most people I was not responsible for the acquirement of my own clothes, I could have a small influence in that like most children I could point out the sort of clothes I believed my friends might wear (a guess being the best indicator of this information as I rarely saw my school friends outside of the educational setting - an accidental effect of rarely venturing far from my house, which I would later attempt to emulate in my working life) but for the most part, the responsibility for keeping me in decent clothing fell to my mother.

Shortly after leaving school, I came upon the realisation that this was now entirely up to me, no conversation took place, there was no physical representation of a torch was passed to me from my progenitor, I simply took the paltry wages from my part time job, ventured into the local town centre and entered a clothes shop to complete my first independent clothing purchase.

My friends of the time were into skateboarding, so naturally I (mostly unsuccessfully except in the relative safety of Tony Hawks Pro Skater 3) attempted to do this too, as a result, the clothing of choice at the time was baggy jeans and hooded jumpers, so I would become part of the (mostly unfairly) vilified hooded youth culture.

A collection of 3 blue skate branded hoodies became well lived in until my late teenage / early adult years would endow me with slightly more colourful tastes.

My hoodies would become forgotten and presumably lost over the subsequent years and in the eternal question that has troubled clothing manufacturers and fashion philosophers for thousands of years, my allegiances switched and I sat firmly in the camp of the traditional woolly jumper, the hoods had never even been used, what the hell did I need one for?

I was happy and contented and probably wearing one of my woolly jumpers when my entire upper body clothing world view was shattered forever, it was shattered by a discovery that would change my life. That discovery was the zip, obviously not the zip as a whole, I had plenty of experience of zips, they often held together the top part of my trousers and held my coins securely in my wallet, but I discovered the zip up hoodie, I could wear something warm and significantly it could be put on and taken off without heaving to be pulled over my head.

Over the coming years, in a reversal of fortunes and a jumper based parody of what had taken place in the past, my collection of woolly jumpers would fall into disuse and my collection of zip up hoodies would grow.

I cannot help with the eternal question being posed as a whole, but for now at least, my tent is firmly pitched in the hoodie camp.

The good thing about a tent though is that it is  temporary structure that can be moved at any time.