Do people still have pen pals these day?

I write to people in Canada, Russia, China and Japan. I love it, I never instant message them and rarely email them. I love the anticipation of waiting for the letter to tell me what they have been up to and very often they will send me something that can only be found locally to them.

I know many people love the world to be small these days. Everything is instant and you can virtually visit somehwere before you go yourself. I love the thought of knowing these people in various places across the globe that I have never met, but yet they are willing to share a little piece of where they come from via the post.

do any of you write to someone you have never met?

I can't wait to get together with my good friends tomorrow. We are not doing anything special but they are coming up from London to see me. You can't beat having friends who will make the journey just to see you.

My first name is Gerard

Gerard is pronounced as JHerAARD †. Gerard is largely used in the English, French, and Dutch languages, and it is derived from Irish and Germanic origins. From Irish and Germanic roots, its meaning is brave with the spear - in this context, Gerard is usually used in the Dutch and English languages.

Two-element name derived from the elements 'ger' meaning spear ; 'hart' meaning brave, hardy. Gairhard (Germanic) and Gerart (Germanic) are original forms of Gerard. The name was introduced by the Normans to England in the 11th century, and was used more commonly than the similar name Gerald in the Middle Ages.

The name was used regularly till the 17th century and saw a revival in the 19th century. It has an aristocratic flavor to it, and is today used mainly by Roman Catholics.

Forgot the source of this info. I copied and pasted a long time ago.

First time I was in the nip with someone, I was worried that I hadn't locked the door!

North or South?

I am starting to realise that if you are the only two on the dance floor, who cares what others think? If you're enjoying it, that's all that matters.

As a bloke, I used to think dancing was simply out of bounds for me. As a 6'4" less than ample fella, doing things gracefully does not befit me. This was until recently when I chanced upon a dance class (Ceroc/modern jive) when I was at a local social club. I was actually at the club to see a blues band, but due bad weather the band had cancelled. The rest as they say is history. Made me think though...

...Why is it that at most parties these days, while the beat is pounding out of the sound system at a volume that makes all social interaction (except dancing) difficult, the majority of guests opt to sit and drink and attempt to talk. Occasionally a few girls get up and jig together, champagne in one hand, doing the “hitch-hiker” with the other and the guys look on, as if observing some endangered species at the wildlife park, stuck to their seats by the glue of fear. It's like being at a club but with less drunken idiots I guess.

And fear they should. Where else in society is your every movement of every limb under public scrutiny?

Every time I tried to dance I felt like a dork and generally looked like one too. On top of that there was trouble with hearing the beat which made me feel awkward, there are certainly parts of my figure that I don’t like and I don’t like others looking at them and on a lonely dance floor. Come on, there isn’t anybody who doesn’t notice.

The thing that I found out at the class was that they all admire whatever it is that gives you the courage to care less about public opinion, breathe a good deep lung-full of freedom and just be yourself.

You all know what I’m talking about, when you all have felt the fear of turning up to something for the first time with no prior knowledge or experience of. In my case it was turning up for my first dance class, Shaking in my boots literally – and the boots didn’t help the whole affair either.

You have to have a good deal of courage to learn to dance. It’s not courage over the fear of injury or death or the kind of courage an investor has about financial risk. It’s something much greater: courage to overcome the fear of ridicule or scorn, the courage to do what you want to do for your reasons even though it may make you an object of public humour or mockery, … otherwise known as “self-confidence”. It doesn’t matter that what we fear hardly ever happens. Our fear is a powerful obstacle nonetheless.

So, do you dance?

Part Three:

You know, nobody here knows anything about the therapist. Dr Billington, noted therapist with a touch of the eccentric Englishman about himself. A tall gangly figure of a man in his late 50's. Grey overtones on his face that are distorted by the wrinkles along his long jaw line and cheekbones with a slight sagging of the skin. A protruding Romanesque nose with a red, almost checked pattern on the end, a whisky drinkers nose if you will. It is the first thing you notice whatever angle you look at him from. Greying straggly hair down the back of his head but bald on top. The Dr in appearance looked that of a disheveled homeless person most of the time.

In contrast, the man likes his clashes of colour, especially with his clothing. Often seen wearing a white dinner jacket with yellow golfing trousers. Neither did the good doctor go to dinner parties or play golf, he could not stand golf.

Often could be found painting in his shed while playing Wagner to his tomatoes. He was noted to have a copy of Wagner's publication "Das Judenthum in der Musik". Never short of controversy was the Dr, but never short of brilliance. He wrote most of his memoirs and medical journal notes on toilet paper.

Still, for some reason many people ignored this about him and continued to go to his very successful surgery. Successful apart from one couple.

The disbelief on Gemmas face was palpable; however in a thought that at once tempted faith and tested sods law she said:

"Oh well, it cant get much worse than this"

As if in reply, a boom of thunder announced the arrival of rain. They both just stood and looked at each other in amazement.

“I wonder what he's thinking?”

“I wonder what she's thinking?”

They both silently turned and started walking in the direction that the driver had indicated. They were now tired of the day and tired of each other. No words were necessary to express the futility of their predicament. They trudged wearily across the field, coming onto a narrow dirt track. A roar filled the silence loud laughter and drunken singing filled the country road.

Oh great, people, I hope they can give us better directions than the bus driver because I am sure that we are lost Jason thought to himself. Not wanting to let on to the fact he actually did not take not of the drivers directions and though he could do a better job himself.

“I cant believe this is happening to me. Here I am stranded in the boonies, my clothes sticking to me, I'm wet and tired and now a truckload of drunk men is coming towards me. I can see the headline now 'woman abducted on country stroll'"

Jason frantically flagged down the approaching vehicle, slipping on a number of occasions as if he had downed one flagon of ale too many.

“Excuse me my wife and I seem to be lost, can you point us in the direction of the Horseman pub?”

The men in the tractor looked at each other and burst out laughing. "I think you've had enough to drink already son. But anyway, you need to go back through that field and then head straight over in the direction of that flag you can see over there."

As they drove off laughing and pointing at him, Jason turned to ask Gemma what she thought the men were on about. To his surprise he was standing on the track by himself. He slipped and fell on his arse again. Now covered in mud, wet and cold, he had no idea where his wife had gone.

"Gem!" he shouted frantically. "Gem, where are you"

Sheepishly Gemma emerged from behind a bush. She was covered in mud and shivering.

Jason gazed at her in amazement "What. Is. Going. On. With. You?" He asked almost pleadingly.

Defiantly she answered "Well, lonely track, rain falling, being lost and being approached by a bunch of drunken farmers was just too Crimewatch for me so I decided to hide; how was I to know that the puddle was a pool?" she ended miserably.

As much as he wanted to console her, Jason could not help but smile. The more he tried to control himself, the less able he was to hold back his laughter. To his surprise, Gemma also had an impish grin on her face.

"Its not that funny though" she said as her grin broadened.

Another peal of thunder reminded them of their journey. Hand in hand, they started off with renewed energy towards their destination. Gemma singing lustily a popular calypso from Trinidad "the journey now start."

"Do you think we can dispatch with the Dr now?" Jason asked in hope.

Gemma just looked at him and said "I think it's for the better"

End

Part two:

Mentally willing the bus driver to hurry, they arrived at the pub only 5 minutes late, the group however was already gone.

"Hey, mate, is your name Jason?" shouted the landlord as they walked into the pub . As Jason nodded, the landlord walked over and handed him a neatly written note:

Hey, I know that at least one of you is operating on Caribbean time, so I prepared this for you last night I so knew you would be late! J You can meet us at the Horseman Pub in Low-rim if you run! Its a great way for you two to learn some teamwork.

Jill

Jason kept his head down for a second longer than necessary, cursing himself and cursing Jill for being so indiscreet. He turned to Gemma with a huge forced grin:

"Well, that's a challenge for us two, I am sure we can"

The sight of tears coursing down Gemmas desolate face cut his sentence short.

"Yeah I am sure we can. Lets go!" she replied with deadpan bravado

"Gemma, please, let me explain" Jason pleaded

"Explain what love?" She smiled emptily. "The longer we stay here and chat, the further they get."

With that, she turned and walked briskly away.

How could he! It's bad enough that I am the butt of their narrow minded jokes but for him to actually tell his co workers that we are in therapy! My God, what has my marriage come to!

"Gemma wait, wait! We need to talk!" Jason shouted as he ran to meet her.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I can't talk and run I am not as fit as Jill" she smiled evilly.

Ignoring her last comment, and becoming increasingly worried about her calm demeanour, Jason spotted the solution to his problems

"There's the bus, I am sure that takes us up to Low-rim we can talk on the way."

"Since when do you know the bus schedules so well?" Gemma inquired suspiciously,

"Well" he hedged "I don't actually know it, but Low-rim is a small village isn't it, one road in and one road out how hard could it be?!"

As we well know, this phrase is the famous last words of many an adventurer.

They again raced onto the bus just as it was pulling off. Gemma sat with her back to Jason purposely ignoring him and pretending to enjoy the scenery.

"Do you have to do that" he asked testily

"Do what" she replied shortly "enjoy the scenery?" "I thought this was the purpose of this trip."

"But we need to talk." He replied angrily

"No we don't, we need to get through today, we need to accept that this relationship is not working; we need to accept that this is the end of our journey together. We don't need to talk about anything else!"

With each sentence, Gemmas voice got increasingly louder until Jason in his embarrassment put his arms around her and gave her a huge kiss and whispered I love you. What? This works on TV, so why not now?

"Piss off" she hissed and turned away. But the fight had gone out of her. Before she could turn to him and apologize she noticed that the bus had come to the end of its route. The driver stood up and began counting out his takings for the day.

Jason realised this at the same time. They looked at each other. Gemma with her nose flaring. All the tenderness of the previous moment gone, both of their hackles raised.

"Last stop folks!" The driver called cheerily.

"Don't start. Do not start!" Jason commanded as they got off the bus.

One good thing about Jason was that he knew when he was wrong, and boy was he wrong this time.

Gemma looked at him with an expression that was a cross between wry amusement and scorn.

"I wont even bother to start" she said "I am just going to wait to see how you can top this!"

"Well Mrs Vernon, according to the driver, we are not that far from Low-rims all we have to do is cross this field and then down the side of that little ditch and voilà we are there! He exclaimed triumphantly. The words of the therapist a distant memory to Jason now.

A short story:

What ho all! This story isn't about me, my life or even anyone that I know. I have been bored these past three days and thought I would try something creative. I am no writer by trade, my English and grammar will certainly not set the world on fire. However, I hope that some of you will enjoy this.

Rambling; the last time I looked, that word meant confused, incoherent. it definitely didn't mean a walk around slushy muddy countryside for fun. After five years together, this man still doesn't realise that walking is defined only by the number of steps it takes to get to the car.

"Ooooh, that sounds great Jason NOT! You know in Trinidad we say late invitations are for dogs! But anyway, i'll go! It will be lovely to meet up with your friends from work again. " She replied in her pleasantly sarcastic manner.

Lovely my arse, but I love him, and he loves rambling....and so does that blonde haired witch in accounts, so off I go. In any event, the therapist did suggest that we try to spend some more quality contact time together. I could well imagine some more fun ways to spend quality time together than loosing my wellington boot in a deep bog. Especially while the immense wall of grey that is a snow storm is heading our way like last time!

"And if we have to get there for 6 love, I would prefer if we leave early, you know how stressed out I get when we have to hustle. As a matter of fact, I think I will call it a night. Good night Jason."

She said yes! Amazing! I wonder what brought that on. The therapy must be working! This is almost too good to be true!

"Don't worry, the journey to the first point will only take us about 15 minutes, we can leave here at ten to six." He said to her

"Ten to six!" She exclaimed. "You do realise that what you just said didn't add up, right, like most of your other bright ideas" she mumbled to herself.

Walk away Jason, pretend you didn't hear the sarky cow! "Good night sweetheart. See you in the morning!" He smiled cheerily.

This was a typical exchange for Gemma and Jason Vernon. However recently, the once fiery dialogue which marked their relationship was being replaced by anger and cynicism, causing them to seek help from a marriage therapist. But will this journey mark the new beginning they crave or bring their relationship to a resounding end.

*Groan* "Why did I ever agree to do this? I hate walking! Especially at 6am in the cold, and worse yet i've.....yuck, what the hell is he cooking? Sausages! I think i'm going to hurl!

"Hurry up! Its not like were going out for the night, you still haven't had your breakfast" Jason shouted up at her.

"I'm coming!" She stomped down the stairs, shaking the entire house and displacing the portrait of their wedding by a few degrees.

"Good morning Godzilla" you do look beautiful this morning. "Green looks well on you!" Shazam, been waiting to unleash that beauty all morning, Jason thought to himself.

She shot him a withered look. "Thanks, Rumpled-stilt-skin...wait a minute you aren't dressed yet! Its nearly 6 now!"

Arghhhhh he gets me so angry, he knows I hate to be late. When I am late, I get stressed, when Im stressed I get...oh geez, I need to use the toilet!

What's another 15 minutes then? Jason contemplated another sausage sarnie with brown sauce. However he had just scoffed the last Lincolnshire pork and apple sausage, dripping in the 2 day old oil of the pan, ooozing the juices of the last sausages fallen brethren.

(Car spluttering to life and then dying just as quickly once realising that it was around 6am on a Saturday morning)

"Oh lord! Jason, lets just forget the car and get the bus, I just saw the 202 pass this way so we can get it on the way back down. I knew this was going to happen" Why am I suggesting the flea ridden mode of public transport on this cold and damp Saturday morning? I must be mad!

"Oh. So you're a bloody fortune teller now or was that some voodoo mumbo jumbo to stop us getting to the walk?" he retorted angrily.

Gemma shot him a contemptuous look, and replied sweetly:

"Well Mr BNP, if you do want to insult me by using tawdry ethnic insults at least use them correctly. Its obeah in Trinidad, not voodoo. But you don't have to worry, as far as I know God protects fools and children and you are not a child!!!"

"OK okay, you win. i'm sorry OK, sorry! Lets just call it a day with the insults right, we are going to have a peaceful, bonding, family day okay. Gemma..okay?" The therapist told me not to be submissive and apologise without real need. He also said to lay off the insults. I guess I don't take much notice of therapists.

"Yeah, whatever." the short and snappy reply came from a huffed breath of disgust. It was as if she knew what he was thinking right now about not listening to the therapist.

"Your wish is my command my love. I'm going to be so sweet today that you are going to need insulin after sending your pancreas into shock" ****, wait....lay of the insults, her mother is diabetic!

This entire dialogue had taken place as they ran to get the 202 bus to the pub. What is it about conversations when taking exercise? They just bring out the worst in people. How many times have you listened in to the two women on the treadmill next to you or those who are jogging through the park? I know most of you have, and all you hear is utter and complete gibberish.

I would hate for some psychiatrist to listen to the conversations I have on the football field on a Sunday afternoon with the lads. It's as if we purposely talk nonsense to try and gain some advantage over our opponent..no idea where the reasoning comes from there. And I can never remember if it works.

As Gemma and Jason get to the bus stop, they see the local service coming into view.

As the saying goes, 'charity begins at home'. You have to look no further than your own back yard to see suffering and need. Don't get me wrong, I am a charitable person but I do like to support local projects first.

I work for a charity that deals with homelessness on a daily basis. I have previously worked with local outreach services for homeless and young people, people with drug and alcohol issues and those subject to working in the sex trade/traffiking.

Kudos to anyone that gives up their time and their money for those who need it!

http://england.shelter.org.uk/ These are who I work for at the minute.

......Your post is the one that kills off a thread?

Not particular to this site, but any forums that you go on. Whether or not intentional, sometimes I see my name last on the thread as it dips down the order and dissapears into oblivion.

It's more annoying when the thread is interesting and you have agreat deal to say on it. For whatever reason though, the thread runs its course, the people who were posting have gone or it just stops unexpectedly.

Just a thought anyway..

My metal collection mainly consists of:

Maiden, Priest, Dio, Sabbath, Metallica, Anthrax, Megadeth, Mastadon, Trivium, Fear Factory, Killswitch Engage, Korn, Slipknot, Opeth, Pantera, Slayer, Rammstein, Rage, Type O Negative, system....and of course Dethklok! Plus many others I can't think of!

excellent, did you manage to get the stuff done people reccommended?

I went to the pit of dispair today. It was OK, could have been better!

Doing my best to fly the flag

Seems very few have popped in here for a while. Things are good here thanks. We have also had some snowy weather over the Christmas period. Despite the recession people have spent huge amounts in the Christmas sales.

Well, looking forward to the new years celebrations now, together with my family and friends.

Hope all is well with you.

Brussels last weekend, via the Channel Tunnel and back. I am so glad that I didn't go this weekend when 6 trains broke down in the tunnel and people were stuck for 12 hours.

It's not you, it's the fact your grandparents keep asking for a foursome after dinner!

Back on topic though in a way, I am meeting someone tomorrow afternoon for the first time.

The wierd thing is that they are just looking for friends as some one new to the City.

What would the irony be if they wanted more?