null's journal

I'm 30.
It's early in the morning and I'm passing the nearby mini-lake on my way to work, my car stereo wrapping the Toasters' Run Rudy Run around my ears. A warm wind locally known as Föhn blows over the mini-lake and produces waves that glisten in the twilight. The car in front of mine is my flatmate's Golf, and judging by her slight zigzagging and not reacting to my flashing my lights, Anke too hasn't slept much last night.
I'm the first at the office, picking up a misdirected fax and forwarding it to the intended recipient while my PC is booting up. The day may begin.
Three months from now I'll be back at school, in addition to my regular work pensum. Constant training is important in my line of business, and the following six semesters will work wonders for my career options even though I don't currently want to quit the job I have. I have a plan, and it seems to come together.

I'm 21.
Last night I've slept at my new girlfriend's place. Whereas 'slept' is technically incorrect; as luck would have it, she's a nurse and currently on early shift, which means I get up early too. It goes without saying that as the relationship is still very young, having to get up early doesn't necessarily mean that we go to bed early to make up for it, and even if we manage to go to bed early, we're not exactly sleeping right away.
She's 21 years old and a goddess. I know that you should never tell a woman that you worship her, even if it's true, but sometimes I can't help it.
At first I was a bit worried about the age difference, but so far the only effect is that she makes me feel younger and (albeit implicitly) encourages me to act accordingly. I get along well both with her and her friends, and instead of grimacing at my random silly ideas, she says things such as "cool!" or "hey, let's do that!". The sex is galactic. The other day we did it three times, and every time was longer and better than the previous one. I didn't even know I could still do that.
Also, she can professionally bandage a sprained finger with just sticky tape in the very hypothetical case that, uhm, somebody decided to run down a ski jump on a mini-sledge to see what's behind it.

I'm 18.
Or whatever age you need to be in order to drag a friend to a concert/party called "Ska is dead" with six top Ska bands playing for a total of almost seven hours (though with short breaks inbetween the bands). My business shoes did not survive the meat grinder that was the second row and I think my back's still a bit black&blue, but all in all it was worth it.
Though, it's gotta be said, the world might not yet be entirely ready for what the Japanese think is Ska.

I'm 15.
Well, I was 15 a couple weeks ago, and so was she. The first two weeks were almost like the very first love all over again. Holding on to nothing but your new relationship and letting go of everything else is dangerous, but it was worth the risk and as you can see it worked.
Also, as far as it concerns my new-found love, I have no plans whatsoever. I mean, what can I plan for: moving in together? Having a baby? Marriage? For the time being she'll live with her parents, she wants to get pregnant in six years, and before I marry again I need to get divorced first.
(Besides the obvious problem that it'd be way too early for all of this anyway.)
So I just plod along in the great pool of random things that life throws at me, with no particular direction nor the need for one. Though there's always time to stop and sniff the flowers... figuratively speaking of course as it's still winter.

I'm 40.
Sometimes I feel older than my friends of the same age. My coworkers of 42 resp. 52 years and I get along well and talk about rock stars that most other people of my age are too young to remember. We agree that Brian May would have deserved a large share of the fame that Freddie Mercury used to bathe in, and even after 2 hours with the finest DJs from London, Dave Pike's 1969 single Mathar is still the grooviest thing ever produced.
Also, I'm balding. I blame my genes and there's probably not a lot I can do, but at least I'm not gonna grow my hair and comb it all over the bald spot.

I'm me.
But in reality, age is just a number. On paper I'm 30, but for the first time in years I'm really aware that I'm really always as old as I'm feeling at any given moment. It's me who defines my age and not the other way round. I'm surrounded by wonderful, lovable and cool people aged 21 to 58, and I really don't care a lot about their age. Nor should I, or they, care a lot about mine. So the next time you're at a friend's 40th birthday and see a young guy who could be your son, or some old fart who looks twice your age smashes into you in the mosh pit at the Marilyn Manson concert, feel free to come up to me and say hi. You might even score a couple free beers.

This is me, and this is my life as I intend to live it. Fuck numbers.

This post was edited by null on Jan 16, 2008.

Wow, going back to this thread brings up quite a few memories. :-)

So where am I now, six years and ten days later? A lot has changed, but isn't that what always happens to long-term plans?

A bit less than three years ago Honeybunny and me moved in together. One and a half years ago we married. Last spring we moved to Liechtenstein, into a great apartment close to her parents, and started making plans to take over their house once it becomes too big for them. Honeybunny wanted to stop taking the pill on May 5, our wedding anniversary.

Last week I've made a list of stuff in our apartment and how to split it up, and sometime soon we'll need an appointment with the judge to file for divorce. There's a long story behind that, but suffice to say that the magic has gone and will likely not return.

It goes without saying that I'm not exactly happy at the moment, now that I've lost the person I loved so much and most of the plans I've been living for for the last few years have been shattered.

On the other hand, being proactive and making new plans helps a lot, so that's what I'm doing now. And I'm really curious what I'll think when I return to this place on Nov 29 2013 and read what I'm writing right now, and what will have become of today's plans by then.

The first plan is rather easy. I've almost forgotten how much fun it is to go out drinking with buddies, possibly at a ska or (punk) rock concert. Since October I've seen and had more such action than during my entire marriage, my list of 'fun places to go' has been considerably extended and almost everywhere I go chances are that I meet somebody I know.

The second plan is old, but now I have the freedom to find somebody who will share this dream of mine. When I've saved enough money, I want to buy an old transporter (Renault Master, VW LT or Mercedes Sprinter) and retrofit it as a motorhome during the course of two or three years. This means potentially fixing a car, planning and building the interior with my own hands (and maybe those of a buddy or two), designing and building lots of electronic gadgets, some plumbing and some mechanical work on the transporter itself. I get to create things out of wood, metal, plastic, fabric, you name it, and all on my own. When that's all done I'll not only be the happiest and proudest motorhome owner in the world (considered the thing still rolls), but also have the means to take two months off work, start the engine and drive wherever I hope to find something interesting.

The third plan is to reduce my life to a minimum. I currently live in a beautiful 110m² apartment with comfort ventilation, a big-ass balcony, a Star Trek-style stove without buttons and knobs and a heated garage. I've got a decent car and four computers and tons of all kinds of stuff in shelves. I eat out once or twice a week.
All these things are nice to have but I don't really need them.
I'm a lucky guy because I don't need much to be content, but I can get pleasure out of almost anything I have. A few weeks from now I'm going to put that superpower to the test.
Travelling is easier with light baggage, and every luxury item I can do without means more money on my bank account - money I can save to eventually make bigger dreams possible.

These are my new dreams. I'm looking forward to turning them into reality and am eager to see what else life will throw my way.

Product test, Axbo sleep phase alarm clock for €199, day 1:
Latest waking time 7:10, by soft music, in a phase of light sleep. We wear a radio wristband that monitors our sleep and transmits the data to the alarm clock. The alarm clock's software can be updated via a USB connector.

07:10:00: BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!
*bang*

07:10:10: *whoosh* *whisper* *pling* *soft music*

Test result so far: There's no denying that the testers were wide awake at 07:10:02. What all the high-tech stuff is for remains to be discovered.

Scientists estimate that 99.98% of all known problems can be solved by applying the appropriate amount of WD-40. *
However, until this day, handling this miraculous fluid has also occasionally been cumbersome, as it only came in big spray cans that were a) not very handy and b) designed to spill between 2 and 3 litres of the precious liquid with incredibly high pressure upon touching the nozzle.

But not anymore, for today I have discovered the...

WD-40 Multi Pen!

It works like a charm. It fits in every toolbox or even pocket. It contains 7.7 ml genuine, real WD-40. All you do is remove the cap and press the felt tip onto whatever you wish to fix, and this mechanic's ambrosia will flow and work its wonders. It is a work of sheer genius, and now it belongs to me!

-- Off to find stuff to fix --

* Seriously, it's the only drug-unrelated chemical that I know of that has its own fan club and is mentioned in a cult classic.

This post was edited by null on May 27, 2006.

That's right, I'm going to get married in exactly 1 1/2 hours. After that it's 4 days of Paris and 3 days of Cannes. Wish me luck (and Orchid, too)!

Wow, according to this online test, I'm perverse and disgusting. I've always suspected it, but now I finally have scientific proof for it. Go me!

This post was edited by null on Dec 09, 2005.