Firstly, I'd really like to thank you all for reading my blog. I never imagined that anyone would care about the life and times of an Otternator. Even more thanks go to the people who inspire me - mainly Other Half, my family, and people on Twitter, who have been wonderfully encouraging and complimentary. You guys freaking rock! Okay so yes, maybe I've been watching the Oscars a little bit, and maybe I've been giving my acceptance speech for Best New Most Awesomest Blogger With Totally Awesome Non-BieberHair to the bathroom mirror, clutching a bottle of shampoo to my chest with delight and gesturing emphatically to the imaginary crowds. Nonetheless, I thank you all, and hope you enjoy reading the following post as much as I did writing it.
Other Half and I were in the study the other day, each wandering aimlessly through the internet on our own laptops and occasionally exchanging links to pictures of kittens (the foundation of the internet) and some rather surreal song parodies, when she turned her laptop to face me.
Other Half: Look at my old school.
Me: (obediently looking) That's a very nice, fancy school, dear. Not at all like the shithole I went to.
Other Half: It really is fancy. It costs thousands of pounds to send your child there, even for one term.
Me: My education, and the lack of enthusiasm my peers had for learning, was completely free.
Other Half: (ignoring me) Look at all the ex-pupils who are famous now - there are scientists, and doctors and writers...
Me: A guy who went to my school won the X Factor a couple of years ago.
Other Half (pointing): ...and a Nobel Prize winner!
Me: X Factor.
Other Half: Nobel Prize.
We exchanged a long stare.
Me: What field was it in?
Other Half: Peace.
Me: (sniffing) Well anyone can do that.
This is a perfect example of an ordinary conversation with Other Half. I'm sure if you videotaped us on a daily basis you would find thousands of small moments of pure genius, but my brain can only hold so much information at one time and it's really anyone's guess what I'll remember by the time I've found paper and a pen. Some conversations, however, are too good to forget. We went to bed rather late at the weekend, because of all the moving house malarkey still going on, and as I turned off the light I leant in for a goodnight kiss. After a moment Other Half pulled back rather suddenly.
Other Half: Are you okay?
Me: Yes, why wouldn't I be?
Other Half: Your head is shaking.
Me: Is it?
Other Half: You can't feel that? It's kind of trembling.
Me: (intrigued) Maybe I'm having a stroke.
Other Half: Oh god!
Me: How does my face look? Is it squinty?
Other Half: The parts of it I can see look alright, I guess...
Me: Then we're fine. Kiss me.
Other Half: Sweetheart, I really think we should-
Me: KISS ME.
Other Half: Okay fine. Have it your way. But if you're really having a stroke don't come crying to me about it afterwards.
Me: (happily) Okay!
A Twitter friend referred to me today as a "weaver of fables". I really like this phrase. I wish it was true. In reality, it's more like I catch small, silvery fables in the imagination stream with a old and fraying net, drag them onto the bank and bludgeon them until they stop wriggling before I drag them back to my lair to fashion them into roughly hewn blog posts. It's not an easy job being this surreal, but someone's got to do it.
In conclusion, please don't be afraid to comment if you like what you're reading. Unless you're a fable, in which case you better swim fast.