Friday, 26 February 2010

Introducing my ass

Well Hi, Howdy, Watcha, Hello (he says after wondering how to start this off). Should I get the greetings out of the way first, the ‘Who the feck is this’? Oh, why not.

Name’s Andrew Hyde. I live in South Wales (the old one, as I say on my @WordBlindProse twitter account). I’m more a family kinda man than anything else I can think of to describe the me that I am. Married, one kid, did have a dog but now got a goldfish (easier to deal with when a fish dies after a few months than when a dog dies after fifteen years). Like most people, had shit times, had good times (didn’t Dickens use that to open ‘A tale of two cities’?). Mostly, I can say, I’ve had good times. Life’s been the bitch, but who don’t like being treated rough now and then? I like to think of that ‘Biatch called Life’ as more that ‘Dominatrix Called Life’ (more aptly describes my relationship with her so far). Life’s taken a load of family and friends from me, and they’re all missed. But, then, life just-a keeps on rolling along. The forty-year-old-something with tyres worn, bit of metal frame showing, but rolling nevertheless. Might be a blowout somewhere along the line, but, for now, let’s just hope it’s a slow puncture.

As a day job, I’d refer to myself as a ‘Code Monkey’ – the lesser spotted computer programmer (lesser spotted ‘cause we’re usually locked away in dark rooms – when was the last time you ventured into the IT department? See what I mean and, if you did, weren’t it a mistake that got you there?). Like most people, I work with a bunch of comedians, the office banter kind of comedians you’re used to. I also work with a few that are on their way to the far right of the autism scale (yeah, before you say it, dyslexia’s autistic spectrum – oh, but I ain’t mentioned that yet, have I). I mean, past the dyslexia/dyspraxia (just touching on autistic) side. And, those guys are kinda funny as well.

What I’m not, is one of those clever computer guys. Definitely not in the group of programmers that bring you good stuff like Halo, or cool stuff like face recognition to your photo album. Nope, that’s not me – that involves math and shite. I’m the corporate computer guy, getting data from databases. One of those computer guys that get admin and clerical staff cursing under their breath, making their days seem longer. If you get an error message ‘Unhandled Exception’, give a little nod of knowing, that’s the stuff I do (and, no, I don’t work for Microsoft).

But, I’m not here to talk about the day job (well, not a lot of the time anyway – ‘cause I ain’t sayin’ it won’t creep in).

I sometimes go by the online alias WordBlindProse (then again, sometimes I don’t). When I use the alias, it’s ‘cause it gives something away about me. Suffice as to say, I love writing and I’m that’s out of the way then. The two don’t really go together (I know), a bit like apricots and toast (apricots in general really, they don’t go with anything – don’t get me started). Writing’s something I do nigh on every day – in one form or another. I write stories, fiction (there’s very little non-fiction I like, my head’s more adapt at escapism than realism). It’s the writing that I’m here for. Sorry if that bores you, I’ll let you run, but it’s why I’m blogging – no excuses or pretence at anything else.

These blogs will be about me, myself, and I. An account of the lazy, forty-something, wannabe, writer – yet to be published (you can’t include the staff magazine as published). I say ‘lazy’ as I’ve more unfinished, just getting started, stories littering my hard drive than I do polished, finished, ready for press, stuff. Is that the general way of things for people who love writing? God knows. If you know some writing dudes or dudettes, maybe ask them for me, and let me know.

So, anyway, that’s me, the introduction, near done. Sometimes you’ll get musings of this forty-something bloke from South Wales (the old one, not the new one) and sometime you’ll get a short story (if I can polish and post, and, then, if you really wanna read).

For now, ta-ta.



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