Seven Years and Not Counting

It’s with sadness that I announce that this blog post, the one which you have just started reading, is the final addition to The Blog of Stuart.

D'you want to know a secret?

A few weeks into this website’s life, I was already regretting the name and URL I had gifted it. But I was already too invested in it to give up. Plus, it formed part of my BTEC in IT, so I had to keep it going. It’s safe to say, I’m the only one in my class who even kept it up this long. Most barely made it past their first short upload.

I’ve looked after it for 7 years now, and, as a result, has formed a massive part of my life. I would honestly not be where I am now without it. I’m not even sure I would have noted how much I like to write without it.

Courtesy of Chris Parsons
(Click to enlarge)

I’ve documented a large portion of my life on here. Everything from the years I spent as a desperate single to a learner driver, university student and an unemployed graduate. I’ve covered it all, and you’ve shared it all with me; whether you liked it or not.

I’ve received all different types of feedback too. It’s included my head teacher discussing it at a presentation evening in front of my cohort. And everything else from lovely and sincere comments to people who have taken the time to email so I know how much they hate me. It’s all pretty incredible really.

And although my blog hasn’t gone viral, I still think it’s been quite successful. Much more so than it probably ever deserved. I've been averaging about 1,000 hits a month, for years. A lot of which are from irrelevant Google searches from a huge array of countries across the world, which amount to zero engagement… But still.

So I should have probably worked on the marketing of it slightly better, and actually offered them something other than throwing my extraneous opinion at them. There’s enough of them on the Internet after all.

I worked out what my voice should be in my second year of University. What I should have to make me different to all the other bleating on the Internet. That sparked the creation of the blog, and dissertation project, The Misanthrope’s Guide to London. Even though it had little success on the Internet, I got brilliant feedback from people who took the time to read it. People were enjoying it.

So it is that vein where my next project will go.

I’m not a fan of change, so that’s why it has taken me this long to bring The Blog of Stuart to a close.

I’ve been saying for a few years that I wanted to shake off the shackles of Blogspot and begin my own website and start afresh.

However, over the past few months, I’ve begun formulating what my next move will be. I’ve just been too scared to buy the webspace. This has meant I’ve been stuck in a circle I’m finally attempting to break. I didn’t want to produce more content for a website I would soon be closing but didn’t want to move from its comforting embrace.

That’s why I have written this. It’s my resignation letter, so to speak. I’ve informed you of my intention, and now I can’t go back for fear of embarrassment.

I now own a plot web space, and I've begun constructing the site. This is how it's coming along...

My new website is called The Misanthrope. It should feel like a news website, in terms of its look and content. However, don’t expect it be serious. The Misanthrope voice will prevail.

I will be venturing into multi-media blogging as well. I have some video editing software, and I have a number of ideas, so we shall see. I may not even make it past the first video for fear of hating myself just a little bit more.

Although I am excited to be starting my new project soon, I am very sad that I am finally saying goodbye. This blog has been a good friend to me and helped me out a lot.

I gave this website as an example of writing when I applied to Universities. I got multiple offers, so it can’t have put them off that much. It’s interesting to read blogs I’ve written before and after University to see my progression.

Anyway, I then used this blog as an example of writing when applying for jobs. Numerous times I’ve sat and watched a prospective boss reading my website on the other side of a desk and seen a wry smirk appear, and it's flattering. It was particularly interesting when one, from London, read my Misanthrope’s Guide to London blog. And okay, it did take me a while to get a job…

But I had two jobs for a period of time. One was working in a shop, where I had to interact with people. I didn't really like it because you’re not allowed to argue back with them, you have to be nice and smile. I can feel my throat tightening every time. Regardless, I very recently left this job thanks to getting more hours at my other, better, job...

The other job involves writing. And I’m allowed to be funny, so long as I also engage the reader in such a way, they want to stay on the website, and hopefully spend their money.

I’m getting paid to write blogs; how awesome is that? And I can’t see how else that would have happened without this blog.

But as I start a new chapter in my life, which involves the increase of my bank balance, it seems right to move to pastures new. After all, I can call myself a professional writer now, so I need to put this aside and start producing content one might expect from a professional…

Yeah, the thought of that is pretty funny.

But I can try, right?

So that’s it. These are my final words.

I don’t want to draw this out any longer.

Courtesy of Chris Parsons
(Click to enlarge)

Consider this blog closed. Out of service. Bereft of life. An ex-blog. Gone off to meet the big server in the sky and pushing up the virtual daisies.

Toodles m’deary’s.

100 - Love: From The Umpires Chair

I now have another year’s membership to the 'Singles Club'. Advantages that I now receive for being a member of this club for over two years include: An increased level of cynicism, an increased level of jealously, an increased level of hatred and increased level of loneliness, and also a decreased level of happiness and a decreased level of confidence. Upon joining the 'Singles Club', you will receive a temporary amount of sympathy from friends and the honour of changing your Facebook status to Single; we think of this a 'Badge of depression', which is visible for everyone to see. After a few months of membership to the club, you are allowed to post depressing statuses on Facebook and Twitter, but this privilege will be taken away after a year of membership to avoid people thinking you're being dramatic. When you have been a member of the 'Singles Club' for 5 or more years, you receive a cat.

Let me ask you a question: Have you ever been in love? A majority of people will answer 'Yes', with the more level-headed, single people like me answering either 'No' or 'Not entirely sure'. My personal answer is 'I think not'. Sure, I have said that four letter word beginning with L in a relationship, but looking back with the advantage of hindsight, I would say no. Otherwise, if that was love, it sure is very disappointing.

I am unsure as to what love actually, really, honestly, feels like. I know the meaning of the word Love is: "A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person", but otherwise, I'm ignorant to it. This makes me very intrigued and cynical towards people of a similar age to me who say they are in love. Don't get me wrong, I am more than happy for them (if not ever so slightly jealous), but how can they be sure? Out of my 150 'friends' on Facebook, an increasing amount of them are either now engaged or pregnant, with the one they love. Then the ones that fit into neither of these categories, but still claim to be in love, just broadcast it over Facebook through a number of status updates and display pictures of them kissing their loved one.

Nothing makes me feel like an old, moaning, lonely man than during the time I spend writing blogs of a similar topic to this; and I apologise to anyone who may become offended by reading this; however, what makes you so sure you have found your one true love? The one your heart desires? Your one and only soul mate? The one who completes you? The one who gives your life meaning? The one that caught your heart? The one you wish to spend the rest of your life with? And to anyone who answers 'You just know', I will brand you a liar. There has to be some kind of thought process. You don't just walk past a jeweller and say 'That'll be a good idea'. Please, someone tell me what it is!

Being the un-liberal conservative I am (no, I'm not referring to the coalition), I think people are committing their life too early; especially after watching BBC3 documentaries about teenage pregnancies. Now, I am aware that they pick the stupidest, most ignorant and extreme people for that show, but it is perfect evidence of being too young. Shows like that should scare you into not committing your life too early. It will not always work. If it does work - great, brilliant, fantastic! If it doesn't, you become a single parent and/or a divorcée before you're even an adult. My incredibly cynical mind cannot fathom how someone can be so sure at the same age as me, that won't happen with the one they love.

A paper demonstration of a broken heart

What gets me though, is why my Facebook page is left with the 'Badge of Depression', everyone else is changing their status to engaged and adding pictures of their latest baby scan. To use a metaphor I used last year in my love blog; I'm left stuck in a dark, shaded corner, watching everyone else being happy and making decisions which will influence the rest of their life. Or to use a new metaphor (which explains my blog title); I'm stuck up here in the umpires chair, watching everyone below play out their relationships, which may only last a few hits, or will continue for ages and suffer an infinite number of hits, while I silently judge them all. Surely, it isn't too much to ask for, for just one woman out there to find me attractive and a good catch.

As the 'mother' of The Supremes once said: "You can't hurry love, No, you'll just have to wait... Love don't come easy, It's a game of give and take'. It makes me wonder then, why even after Phil Collins repeated these gems of advice, why people still want rush into love, and why they are so confused about it not being easy. Too often I have seen people split up over stupid, petty things which are so insignificant, they can't even remember why they split up with the person, other than the fact they 'hate' them.

My belief is that TV and Movies have 'tainted' what people perceive to be love. Love certainly is not like how they show it; from my experiences anyway. It isn't all 'Will they? Won't They? Before they finally live happily ever after'. Also, love isn't all happiness and roses and romantic songs in Irish pubs like the movies suggest. It just is not a fair representation, and it has made people convinced that they can have a happy ending. The 'fairytale' element to love has been increased through movies and television in recent years thanks to people like Gerard Butler and Zac Braff.

Even these two fingers are happier than me...

That is the other thing that really gets me: Recently in a lot of American TV shows and movies, there are guys who have a similar hairstyle to me. Now, they seem to be always getting off with women and have ability to woe any female that they want. Just once, I would love for my hair to possess that kind of power. Even when I spray myself with Lynx deodorant, I don't seem to become a magnet for half clothed women; like the adverts suggest. It is all just lies!

I have been reading up about some of the best (well, worst) marriage proposals, and I have encountered many bad ones. The best (well, worst) one that I found was a man who left an engagement ring in a pile of dog poo. A couple’s dog had left a mess in the garden, so before he asked her to clean it up, he placed the ring on top of it. He then stood behind her as she went to clean it and proposed. That now means that every other proposal of marriage can be considered as romantic in comparison.

I have two ideas of ways in which I could propose to a woman. Don't sit there and snigger at the possibility of me finding someone who is willing to put up with me - it is possible, I'm sure! The first idea is simple; you create a Facebook event for your wedding, and only invite them. If it works, you can invite more people to the event. If it doesn't work, you either just simply delete all evidence of it or postpone the date and ask them a few months later.

The second idea would be to kidnap them as they left work and bundle them into the boot of a car. You drive around for a few hours with them kicking and screaming, until you arrive at a beautiful destination, in the middle of nowhere with the sunset gleaming across the beautiful scenery. You then open the boot and they will be incredibly relieved to see you. You then lay out a romantic picnic with champagne and pop the question. However, the key is to not actually tell them it was you that kidnapped them until many years later when you're married and it's too late. Maybe on your death bed.

Example of a beautiful sunset scenery. My own, personal photograph. Was going to use for background, but HTML sucks...

If you wish to date me, you have to be willing to settle for all my faults:

• I am cynical.
• I moan rather a lot.
• I am slightly over-weight and not much to look at.
• I can sulk, for days.
• I have low self belief
• Chances are, one of your friends will really irritate me.
• I have very little previous experience with love, and will have to be taught.

And all my merits:

• I have hair.
• I can, on occasion, be funny.
• I can be nice and rather lovely when in a good mood.
• I have a car.

If you can settle for these, please do not hesitate to contact me.

P.S. Notice I have now redesigned my blog page. PLEASE, tell me what you think of it?