Over & Out

Blogging has become infintely more difficult for me in recent months, hence the complete and utter lack of updates.

It's not that I have a lack of interesting stories from my work and personal life, far from it in fact, it's just that those tales cannot be posted to a global audience anymore. I'm terrified of jeapordising my work and my relationship; I value both far too much.

I'm grateful for the friends I've made through this blog; you know who you are, and you know how to get hold of me in the future. Fellow bloggers - I admire your courage and your writing and I'll continue to read in the future. Keep at it; I'm just sorry I don't have that courage myself any more.

These posts will remain though, I shan't be hitting the big delete button just yet.

Goodbye, and thank you.

Finding someone

Like a number of other bloggers I've been thinking allot about whether to keep this online journal going.

It becomes tricky when you truly begin to know your audience, readers become true friends, and you realise that anything you vent out into the ether can actually have consequences.

But in the meantime I'm still here.

At least once of you was curious as to one of the subjects I touched upon in my last post, and I did promise a follow-up.

I came out of a two-year relationship last winter. Love and great times were shared but sadly we decided to part. I couldn't have wished for a more amicable split, and I feel blessed that I've gained a true friend who'll remain just that in the future.

It took me an awfully long time to venture back into the dating game, but as spring slowly turned into an early summer the time felt right to dip a toe into the water.

Still being of limited confidence after all these years, I decided to play to my strengths and joined uniformdating.com. Put basically, it's a dating site for those in the uniformed services (Police, Ambulance/NHS, Fire, Army, RAF, Navy) to meet other uniformed services, or 'civvies', and vice-versa.

The Yorkshireman in me managed to find an online promotional code giving me a month's free membership (which was a bonus). Joining the site was simple enough, however setting up a profile and choosing a suitable photo must have taken half an ice age. See, those who know me will know that one trait I despise in people is arrogance. I'm generally uncomfortable to crow about my own achievements and merits, so just how was I going to sell myself to any potential date?

Hours of staring at a blank cursor flashing on the monitor finally paid off and I put myself out there. Time to sit back, wait, an to be honest not expecting much interest to come trickling back.

But, lo and behold, women started to view my profile. Success! I hear you cry. However, not strictly not the case. Did they not read that I wasn't looking for women over 40? I mean, no offence. I've dated women a few years older but I would most certainly draw the line at a decade now. A few polite excuses were in order. The other problem was that the more interesting women quite literally lived at the other end of the country. I've done the long distance (read transcontinental) thing before and it ain't easy at all.

About a week later however I was messaged by someone a mere 20 miles away. For the purposes of anonymity in this journal I will refer to her as she.

She was attractive, fun, intelligent and bubbly. Even more surprisingly she wanted to meet me. I checked a few times. Yep, she was talking me.

Crikey.

We arranged to meet at a local chain-pub for our first date. Suffice to say you can tell things are going well that you're so deep in conversation that three hours pass in the blink of an eye. Indeed she was attractive, fun, intelligent and bubbly in person.

Wow.

Mentally checked again, oh my god it was me she had wanted to meet.

Date two would have been a lot sooner had I not contracted a pleasant case of conjunctivitis and a particularly chesty cough (I blame a stop search of a suspicious male I did who didn't quite have the best bodily hygiene shall we say). However she demonstrated great patience in waiting for me to get well again.

We arranged to meet again.

The rest you can say is history.

Some two months later and things are going very well indeed. We spend as much time together as work allows. We share similar passions in life, yet she's opening my eyes to new things.

One night she told me she loved me. I was blindsided. I never expected to hear someone look into my eyes and say that ever again. I too have fallen in love with her.

Quite simply she has been the most wonderful surprise. Without sounding cliched I feel like the luckiest man in the world. I expected a long trail of unsuccessful dates. She certainly sounded like she had experienced just that. But to strike lucky first time? I mean, really, what are the chances?

I don't have many exes to speak of, but at least a couple of them remain good close friends.

As I said to one of them recently "Each love is unique."

Treasure each love, mourn it's loss, but dare surrender yourself to the promise of something new.

Hopefully I am proof positive that it is possible.

Anon

I find these days that I have to be carefully what I write.

I can't really talk about work these days, which sort of deprives me of a major source of material. Ever since I got discovered by some back-stabber who saw it fit to go straight to a superior without perhaps having a word in my ear, I basically can't mention... Well... Pretty much anything of the day to day life of a response officer in a rural county. Really it is quite frustrating. I have the utmost respect for the police bloggers out there, however I simply do not have the anonymity. I'm fairly sure some colleagues googled my late colleague Stacey and ended up finding the tribute I wrote back in 2007, and then putting 2 and 2 together. Though I'd rather have remained anonymous, that's one post I could never, ever delete.

I'd like to talk more about personal issues as well, but again to the small band of you who read this. Hell, you actually know me in person. Which makes it easier, yet harder to share.

What has happened in recent weeks?

Plain clothes policing
Unmarked cars
15hr shifts
Drug seizures
Internet dating
Blind date
New girlfriend

Pick one. I'll try to elaborate if I can.

Newswipe

Absolutely spot on. Charlie Brooker rocks!

If you haven't already seen this - seek out more on BBC4, Youtube, or his excellent Guardian columns.

Protest

Unusual perhaps for a copper, but I'm all in favour of protest.

Up to a point.

Free speech, free press in this country is something we should all be extremely proud of.

Anarchists hijacking peaceful protests though is hardly a surprise these days, but the scrum of media and photographers surrounding those few protesters who stormed the RBS building was a frankly ridiculous sight.

Three or four protesters actually doing the damage and what looked like twenty-plus camera lenses early snapping every move.

Now that's corageous journalism.

Protestor to BBC:

"We've tried to go along this route, protesting peacfully..."

Fair enough.

"We've been angry, but you can understand that we've been angry..."

D'oh, you said it!

"And basically the police have come along here and hemmed us in on all sides... We can't get out. No-one can go out, no-one can come in."

BBC "Can I just ask - why are you here, why are you protesting?"

"I think the government have made an absolute ass of themselves, and look what they're doing, they're encouraging the police to be violent."

Hmmm. To be honest looks like it was all hunky-dory until your anarchist mates stired things up by redecorating the RBS foyer. Perhaps you should ask the Climate Camp up the road for a (ahem) crash course in sensible protest 101?

Meanwhile I'm going to go and seek out for my home-office approved Urban Violence course.

I never knew we had one.

New digs pics

A full set is up on my facebook page, but if you're not of that persuasion, here's a few to peruse.

Location, location, location

One month on from the move and, without tempting fate here, I can resoundingly say it's been a move for the better.

I would have blogged several weeks ago if it hadn't have been for the bickering between BT and Virgin Media which delayed my Internet connection for almost a month.

One annoying thing about moving is that all the utility providers generally keep referring you to their website for more information. Not very helpful when you don't have a connection. Asking to speak to a human being seems like a very big ask to them at times.

But anyway, I digress.

The new digs!

Firstly, although the rent is considerable jump from what I was paying for my last place... What new levels of comfort I can now experience! Heating that warms the place up within mere minutes; double-glazing and insulation that actually encourages the heat to hang around for a while. Good-god, I have a a garage... A hallway now and everything. Eat your heart out Donald Trump...

Seriously though, the new flat is most definitely worth the expense.

It's incredibly modern and trendy for a northern type like me, you see. Spotlights, extractor fans, skylights, blinds, cctv door cameras... Lots of shiny buttons and things. There's a sitcom in here waiting to be filmed.

Once you see the pictures I expect to get comments along the line of "bachelor pad" don't you worry.

But furnishings aside I think I'm benefiting most from the location - a mere 12 miles from work versus some 25 I had to drive before. I'm saving petrol, mileage but even more critically... Time. An extra 20 minutes may not sound like much, but believe you me, at the end of a 12-hour day it can feel like an eternity.

With the location also come the people. having lived in a cul-de-sac before I got to know my neighbours really well, whereas here residents here are always moving past or through. Those I've met seem pleasant enough however.

I actually have friends and colleagues living in the same neighbourhood now too. Hell, at this rate I'm in real danger of developing a social life again.

All-in-all then...

So far, so good.

Röyksopp - 'Happy Up Here'

A great Royksopp track with a typically excellent video.

Normal blogging service will resume shortly, I promise.

God knows I didn't mean to be offline for that long...

Enjoy.

Until tomorrow, I'll just keep moving on...

Sorry for lack of updates in recent weeks, just when I was starting to get back into the swing of blogging n' all.

This month's excuse is my impending house move.

I move in two days time.

Yikes!

At present, walking from the living upstairs to the bedrooms is something of a military assault course with the ammount of... Well, stuff I have boxed, bagged or rolled waiting to be packed into the hire van on move-day.

Two years; who'd have thought I needed all this... Stuff?

Where'd all this stuff come from?

Anyway.

Appears I may be offline for [*shudder*] upwards of a week. Strangely, for a new-build only a few years old the previous tenants never connected a land line. Although I don't really use a land line per se, without one I can't get back online. Cue delicate negotiations with the agents as to who's paying what exactly.

Expect pictures and musings on the new digs & location as soon as I get re-connected.

In the meanwhile I'm setting this to autopilot; ditto Facebook, Twitter, Hotmail pages & the like.

Right then, where's I put the packing tape?

[*whistles*]

Maybe tomorrow I'll wanna' settle down.

Until tomorrow, I'll just keep moving on.

25 Random Things

Another one of those meme things...

1. I'm an avid Guardian reader.
2. I can happily devour an entire packet of biscuits in one sitting.
3. Deep-down, even at my lowest ebb, I'm still an optimist.
4. I have a love for dance/electronic music, but my tastes are otherwise broad; rock to classical, hip-hop to indie.
5. I'm 6'3".
6. At the last count, I have visited 22 countries and rising... Travel is one of my great passions in life.
7. Following a friends' recommendation I am currently a massive fan of 'The Shield' and secretly wish policing was a little more like that sometime.
8. All the women I've had relationships with were born outside the UK.
9. I drive too fast.
10. I enter a ridiculous number of competitions. Someones got to win, surely?
11. I'm intrigued by religion but am still an agnostic.
12. Bad manners infuriate me - when you hold a door open for someone and they don't say thanks...
13. I'm a bit of a romantic, really.
14. Though I don't read as much as I used to, I've always got a book on the go.
15. I think I'm starting to develop insomnia.
16. Unusual for a bloke; but I love cats.
17. I'm typing this to avoid packing. I move house on the 19th of this month.
18. Before becoming a copper I worked as a bookseller, and prior to that for a small environmental charity in The New Forest.
19. I'm a terrible, but slowly improving cook.
20. When I get some more money through I would like to get a decent digital SLR camera and become a better photographer.
21. I cannot function properly without a morning coffee.
22. I long to be a father. Eventually.
23. My heroes include Moby, Neil Armstrong, David Attenborough, Captain Scott and Ellen MacArthur.
24. I have a strange fascination with cold places, particularly The Antarctic.
25. I can still speak (rustily) fluent Swedish.

Enough change already

These last few months have seen, and continue to see, plenty of change on a personal level. And I think I've had enough for now thankyouverymuch.

Just before Christmas I got signed-off from my probationary period. I'm a proper-copper now. Therefore I'm harder to fire if things go, well, a little Pete-Tong. After some wobbles through last year on the training side (many issues not my fault either), I managed to stabilise things and set out on a consistent six-month run making a good name and reliable reputation for myself.

So much so then, that when candidates were being considered this week to move to other shifts to bolster their experience and strength, my name was considered a front-runner.

Woah there, that's got to be zero to hero in record time surely?

I was under the impression that the move was a done deal, however I was invited to plead my case to the powers-that-be.

See, I didn't want to go.

Flattering though the 'candidacy' was; I work on a great shift, with good colleagues. There's a real team atmosphere on our shift. When the shit goes down we all pull together. That's not to say that other shifts don't, but the last thing I really needed right now would have been to be up heaved elsewhere having to establish myself at work all over again.

Thankfully then, the powers-that-be reconsidered and I'm staying put.

I spilt from a two year relationship just before Christmas.

I move house in less than a month.

That's quite enough change thanks.

Words

"We cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribes shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself..."

Spot-on, Mr President.

10 things I'll miss, when I move

1. The Battle of Britain Memorial Flight regularly flying over the house
2. A 24-hour Tesco, a mere five minutes down the road (perfect for us shift-workers)
3. Items in the kitchen staying remarkably fresh beyond their sell-by date (the kitchen really is that cold, it's like a walk-in fridge)
4. Living at the edge of a large tract of woodland
5. The wildlife
6. Having a garden
7. Being a mere 90-minutes from friends & family in Yorkshire (though I recently discovered it can be done in 75...)
8. Genuinely friendly neighbours
9. The anonymity of living over 25 miles away from where I patrol
10. The frankly excellent local 'Chippy

Midnight Madness

Rather apt considering last nights' partying I thought....

Happy New Year world!

Let's make it a good one.

Let's at least try, eh?

Change

It being the end of the year it's time to do the cliched looking-back-thing, however I find myself for the most keenly looking forward.

I'm not saying 2009 is heralding the start of a personal revolution by any means, it's just that I am certain that the new year will being change on a number of levels.

Firstly, I've decided to move.

I moved to my present location primarily because it was geographically central to all the various locations my training and subsequent police station posting. Since I made the jump down here and managed to get myself successfully signed-off as a 'proper copper'- I now find myself living a little out on a limb. Though it was convenient and central for training, now that I've settled into the routine of policing a rural market town, I am tiring of the 50-mile round trip to work and back, the time wasted on a very dull- A-class road and the petrol burned.

Socially, those who live over this way all have families and don't tend to go out that much. Most of the friends and colleagues I've made down here are clustered near where I work. Therefore if my colleagues are going out for a social, it's a real pain to organise transport or places to stay, even for a simple few drinks after a shift. It gets a bit lonely at times.

So sometime soon, possibly even in the next few months, I'll swap this rural market town for another.

Change has come on a personal level too. You don't have to be Sherlock to figure out the identity of the girlfriend and probably have heard by now that we've sadly split up. It's nothing for me to discuss at length here, I have far to much respect for her to do that, however I am probably blessed with the most amicable break-up that one could wish for. I've gained a close and precious friend for the rest of my life; that much is certain.

At work I've learned that I'm getting a new line-manager / Sargent in January which has come to a bit of a shock to all of us on shift. Looking at the rest of the shifts at the station we're probably the closest-knit and I feel like I'm losing a mentor who shepherded me though some really tough times at work. It's another loss that I'm taking quite personally.

Change on a number of levels then.

Perhaps my life needs shaking up a little.

As the great prophet Sheryl Crow once wrote:

"A change, will do you good."

Give me a break

The portfolio is handed in.

I’m mere days from being confirmed in rank.

It’s a relief on the one hand; free from the self-induced stigma of the extension, and the oh-so-welcome pay rise.

You’re the first group to gain the NVQ qualification gushed the training staff back in the mists of time when we commenced out training.

Wonderful. I’ve yet to meet any fellow candidate who was particularly thrilled at gaining the qualification, or more importantly ever wanted it in the first place.

An NVQ level four equals something like a foundation degree so I’m told. Another line on the CV should I ever change jobs. But what does an NVQ in policing qualify me for exactly?

Whatever. I don’t care anymore.

Just bring on the pay rise.

Work are cracking down more than ever on using the internet at work; outside of work any murmurings on Facebook and the like trickle back to the station at lightening speed.

The higher-ups increasingly seem to deny we have life other than what is spelt out in PACE.

Seems the public couldn’t care if we get a break either.

Recently I was in a supermarket on my patch. Granted I was on uniformed duty, but I was tired. Hungry.

I parked my patrol car outside and strode into the store to get some refreshments.

Immediately eyebrows were raised as soon as the customers got a glimpse of my uniform. I could almost hear the whispers: Ooo, where’s the shoplifter then?

None here today.

I meander around the aisles and then dutifully I queue up with my coke, sandwich and Kit-Kat. I grab a copy of The Guardian to read in the evening at home.

A couple of twenty-somethings shift impatiently behind me.

What he doing in here? Hasn’t he got time to be out on the streets? One says under their breath to the other.

I turn my head to look at them and bring myself up to my full 6’3” stature.

What I did say, casually:

Sorry, did one of you say something to me?

No, no… They fluster.

I turn back towards the checkout and hear a nervous giggle behind me.

I continue queuing and stride purposefully back out the store.

Mercilessly the radio remains quiet still.

What I should have said:

You try working eleven fucking hours without a break.

Wassup 2008

True... True...

Close, but...

Barring any major catastophies I'm now led to believe that I should be 'signed off' within the coming month.


Just a few more lines of bullshit on my learning portfolio then a whole host of signatures and that should be it over and done with.


I don't know if I'll ever get the portfolio back into my custody, but I've already realised it'd make a pretty good draft-excluder...


So by 'signed off' I mean - confirmed in rank, and job, as a constable.


Those of you who have followed my story, somewhat muted as it is these days, will note that I haven't had the easiest route to this destination.


Though faults may have been my own, and those of others, my goal is within sight.

Now the question rears its head "What next?"

Thirty-one years later

So yesterday I celebrated my thirty-first birthday. Another year older, another year wiser, they say. However, I cannot say I’ve felt particularly different at all for the last five or six birthdays now. My mind is firmly entrenched in my twenties and refuses to move.

I celebrated it down in Norwich with girlfriend & her lad; a nice yummy meal out at Wagamma’s, some thoughtful and quite original presents, a few cards. All -in-all how I like to celebrate birthdays really. Though I’m happy to attend big parties I generally don’t like to be the host or subject of one.

Birthdays are always a good time to stop and take stock. So where do I find myself?

Unmarried, but in the second year of a stable relationship.

‘Plodding’ away in a good job, however one that I’m still trying to figure out.

Not owning my own home, but quite happily renting one in these turbulent economic times.
With few savings, but comparatively little debt.

In close and stable contact with most of my friends and family, yet surprisingly lonesome all-to-often.

Having travelled to 23 countries, yet wishing to travel to many more.

However much things depress me, frustrate me, annoy me and perplex me at times. I sit back and consider… Well, things, could be a lot worse…

The day I almost killed my girlfriend

...If I remember correctly, was August 25th, this year.

This was several weeks ago now, whilst holidaying in The Lake District.

Having spent our first day exploring the park, and enjoying a rare break in the otherwise abysmal weather, I sat in the car in Ambleside regarding the map with a furrowed brow.

Ambleside, is the main centre of tourist activity and commerce in the 'Lakes. It was early evening, the sun was beginning to dip behind the peaks, and we were some thirty miles away from our hostel where we would be spending the next few nights.

“There are two routes” I mused aloud, studying the road atlas “We can go the long way round, via the A593 and A595. Or...”

Then I paused momentarily as I traced a small unclassified road that took a more direct route, snaking through the centre of the park.

“...There’s this road here, there’s only one gradient chevron indicated in the atlas, and what’s more with the clear weather it should be pretty stunning scenery.”

“Ok, if you’re sure.” said girlfriend, perhaps more out of tiredness from a long day then perhaps genuine confidence in route planning skills “But it’ll be getting dark soon.”

“Oh we’ll be alright,” I reassured her, and her lad sat in the back of my car, “Trust me.”

“Riiiiight.” Said Girlfriend – her alarm bells already beginning to ring. She stifled a yawn, nervously.

I put the vehicle in gear and turned the car towards Langdale, blissfully unaware.

The first twenty minutes or so proved to be a tranquil drive along narrow country roads, hemmed in either side by dry stone walls. The road hugged the valley floor and for all intents and purposes we could have been driving one of Postman Pat’s gently meandering rounds if only we’d hummed along with the tune.

Then the road began to climb, gently at first, but then gathering altitude in earnest. The valley floor was suddenly hundreds of feet below us. Girlfriend shifted uncomfortably in her seat….

Then she froze as we passed this sign.

“It’s too late to turn back now, we’re losing the light.” I decided, besides I didn't get a chance to properly read the sign.

I was more worried about the fact that twilight had come all too quickly.

Girlfriend meanwhile, reminded me calmly and firmly how much she really did not like heights in the slightest. Not one bit.

See, maths has never been my strongpoint, at least not when I’m focusing on driving anyway.

That’s why I was never any good at calculating stopping distances. Another thing not to tell the Girlfriend I thought. So perhaps that’s why the full impact of 1:3 only really hit me when the valley floor really was hundreds and hundreds of feet bellow now, as we negotiated switchback after switchback.

The car slowed more and more as we climbed. This was going to take a while.

I’d met a few vehicles oncoming, lower down the valley, and they were tricky enough to negotiate a passing point. Stopping on this gradient would be the hill start from hell. In fact there wasn’t a chance to stop; there was nowhere to pull in. It was a case of attacking one bend after the other.

10mph, when you’re halfway up a mountainside, feels like 50.

I’d dropped down even into first gear at this point, and the engine was starting to sound like a norse god of thunder with severe Asthma.

I tried to put it into second gear.

The 1.6l engine gave an almighty sigh and began to shudder like it was choking.

Nope, that wasn’t going to work. First gear it would have to be then. For minutes on end.

This was not quite how it appeared on the map.

When we reached the head of the pass, before it dropped down into the next valley – I ventured to ask Girlfriend how she was feeling.

She didn’t reply.

I rebounded the question towards Boyo in the back.

“Yeah, cool!” he replied cheerfully, an answer which buoyed my confidence somewhat. He was clearly enjoying the views, whilst I couldn't afford to take my eyes of the slender ribbon of tamac ahead of me.

At least someone’s got faith in my driving skills I thought because I’m not so sure I can do this...

“Are you okay?” I tried to asked Girlfriend again.

“Mmmm.” Came a muffled reply from the passenger seat.

“What, sorry?”

“Just concentrate ok?!” Girlfriend shot back. I glanced at her – gripping the upholstery like she was sliding out of it towards certain doom - and then back at the road again. Ahead, I could see that we were gathering speed into another set of devilish switchbacks, this time to be tackled going downhill.

Girlfriend seemed to be listening to every whine and hum of the engine.

“I think your gearbox has gone.” She offered.

“Oh, thanks hon.”

Thankfully it hadn’t, but the strain was obvious on the car.

As we descended into the next valley I prised my nails out of the sterring wheel and began to relax a little.

“I think we’re past the worst of it, y’know.”

A mile or two later, the road began to climb once more.

Oh the penny dropped I forgot about the other pass.

And that, dear reader, is where I think in her mind at least, Girlfriend almost killed me.

Her first words upon descending into the relative of Eskdale?

“You owe me a double, of whatever alcoholic drink I choose.”