Spring cleaning and streamlining can be heart-warming and soul destroying. I have literally thousands of magazines that I rarely use, but have built up quite a library (albeit not always ordered) of reference that was there if I needed it. But then I started running out of room and had to do that whole evaluation thing of 'is it worth the space I'm losing it to and could I make a little money off clearing it at the same time?' The answer to the first bit is yes as I've always been a hoarder and though I invariably need something as soon as I chuck it out, I have too much clutter for anything short of a Tardis.  The answer to the latter is more likely to be 'no' as magazines are bulky, impossible to ebay without paying a huge amount for postage and even a dealer isn't going to offer you a lot for them because he won't be able to sell them all himself even if you can get them all to him.

So I'm left with the fact that there's a good chance some of my collection will end up simply in the bin. That's a last resort as there's nothing quite like seeing a symbol of twenty years of your life being shovelled off into the garbage to bring an obvious metaphor to the surface.  When I left 'Claremont' I binned a lot of the 'un-necessaries' which was hard enough at the time, only to return the following day to find someone had gone through the bins and scattered rubbish and belongings everywhere. Truly broke my heart. So to bin stuff voluntarily now is pretty annoying and frustrating if it's coming to that.

So, if anyone is in the Leeds area and wants Total Films, Premieres. Flicks, Entertainment Weeklies and maybe some SFXs, feel free to contact. Otherwise it's the charity shop or if they don't have the room (which is quite likely)... the bin.

Peh.

Back when I had the health BLIP at the end of 2008, the doctors said I'd probably have good days and bad days in the months to follow. To be fair, most of my days have been exceptionally good and I know I've been very lucky. However the last 36hrs or so weren't quite as 'chipper' with some light dizziness and aches and just feeling a bit off my game. It's nothing I'm too worried about, partly to be expected, but it was annoying and distracting as I had to limit my time at a computer screen when there's a strong need for me to be at it a lot (Cause and Effect, I guess).  But feeling better today, albeit with some neck ache and I have a final doctor's appointment in about two weeks which should be nothing but a formality. However it does remind me that once the convention and current round of deadlines are over, I'm looking forward to some serious R'n'R in LA and then in Iowa.

Minor tech annoyances too...because as well as my laptop's DVD drive no longer recording properly, the webcam now appears to 'not exist' according to the machine. A bit of pain to discover when I was setting up a Skype chat earlier to catch up with Shaleah and Kit/Ariel's bouncing baby girl (cute as a button... checks buttons... okay, cuter than...). This leads me to think I may have to put this machine in for repair while I go away and so borrow my parentals' laptop to travel with to America. This would be frustrating for several reasons - 1) all my e-mails are on this machine and while I can back up programs and files, the Inbox and sub-folders are much more tricky to save and 2) any long term readers of this blog know that PC World are the spawns of satan and couldn't find their ass with two hands, a map and a torch   lost my last laptop and left me out of pocket even after compensation and a replacement. Though I'm loathe to risk that again, I may have no choice - especially as there's only three weeks to go before I go.

Annnnnnnyway. Press with Mr Nic Cage: done (The film, ,Knowing is not half as interesting as he is). Several articles from that meeting written up. HLWW brochure designs: done (ready to send). HLWW DVD sleeves (ditto). Some articles to do. More designing to do. However for now, a catch-up on TV eps I've missed and some late-night chocolate.

Then sleep. Then perhaps PAID work. Then...

I've recently decided that every single day I should acheive something. I fully admit that on certain days, getting up will fall into that category, but if I write something, design something, clean something, sort something or just something something then I can look back and say the day wasn't a washout. This weekend there was a lot of somethings done. I managed to design six DVD sleeves for HLWW, work on the design for another possible project that I hope to hear more about this week, finish an article for Impact, get things packaged for ebay and also sort some more stuff for the local auction house. Go, me!  Let's put it this way, this weekend I earned my bloody Jaffa Cakes (and what would I do without them?)

And watching the news, Jade Goody has died. Don't get me wrong, her story is tragic and stripped down to the story basics, any young mother who dies of cervical cancer in her mid-Twenties and leaves behind a grief-stricken family is heart-breaking in that respect. But in broader strokes, she was an uneducated, casually racist non-entity who was made a celebrity by an attention-seeking reality show (twice-over) and the angle-searching fickle tabloids celebrating the very things about her which were once to be derided. ("Roll up, roll up, see her demonstrate her lack of understanding, hear her insult ethnic minorities, laugh as she cries... yes, REAL tears!"). They laughed with, not at her and she barely noticed. She became famous for being famous and famously thick. She was the media's plaything to be prodded out on slow news days and the only savvy thing she ever did was let her advisors play to those weaknesses to make sure she at least got some of the profit the papers made from her. She chose to die publicly and in a way that would ensure the blood money went to her children to support them when she was gone. But before she's even buried, everyone's picking over the corpse. Listening to Radio Five Live's fluffy navel-gazing coverage this morning they asked the public what they thought of their Goody coverage. Tellingly, around 45% said they didn't like Goody, 40% said  the BBC coverage had been out of proportion and 15% said they liked her a lot. They  then interupted the tepid defence by the head of programming and his excuse that Goody was a valid news-story for millions of vultures listeners (and 'hey hadn't people appreciated the coverage of Natasha Richardson earlier in the week, dammit!'),  to go over to the *breaking news* from a reporter outside the Goody residence that....yes, flowers being left for Jade outside her house and let's take the chance to talk to a fan.

This afternoon, reports are being readied for tomorrow's tabloids that confirm that Jade Goody will remain dead for the forseeable future (barring reruns). Irony on the other hand is alive and well and already after a finders fee.

Today was almost spring-like, which for those of you not in England, means it didn't actually quite rain.

There are times when I feel like the show-runner of my own life. Like Joss Whedon but with no vampires, less death, fractionally less angst and just a bit less interesting when viewed from the outside (So, Dollhouse, I guess?). I kinda look back (or ocassionally forward) and spot the themes of the year. 2008 was definitely nick-named 'Watershed' and I had the feeling well in advance that certain stuff would come to a head and if not a tectonic shift, then certainly an alphabetising of priorities. Which for anyone who knows me, is SO not me.

That's certainly continuing on into 2009. Both literally and metaphorically I'm cleaning house. Maybe it's down to hitting the signifcant age (29 is still significant, right?) when you have to make jokes about still being 29 (see?) or maybe being Mr Splodey head last year and feeling mortal or perhaps simply the downside of being a hoarder is that sooner or later you run out of place to hoard... but I'm getting rid of a lot of stuff that however much I'd love to keep, it's just not essential. Two big boxes of cinematic books went to the local auction house last week and brought in a few pounds, I'm doing something similar to my vast magazine collections, there's a ton of merchandise going on ebay at the moment and some stuff is just heading for the bin. My DVD collection and soundtracks are actually dimishing to the titles I may actually watch/listen to again and IF I illegally downloaded, which I surely DON'T - then I'd be of the mind to organise them into files and discs for easy referencing when I review them for the magazines. Rhetorically, of course.

I'm streamlining and organising. That's not to say, the workspace is looking remotely tidy at the moment - in fact, it looks like it's being hit by something whirling, maybe a dervish - but to the well trained eye, there's actually significant progress. By the time I head off to the US, I'll have downsized a fair bit - if only my waist was included in that.

However, mucho HLWW to finish off, Impact to do, tax to sort out and Verbatim to get done and dusted. Then more work to seek out - design or writing - for which payment would be good. And  I still found time to wash and brush up this blog a bit. The colour-scheme was a bit sterile, so hopefully now a bit warmer and inviting with a touch of style. Not unlike my good self.

In short, for the moment...all work, no play. But hopefully only in the short-term.

I'm sure it's not down to Comic Relief, (hence the nose to the left of this blog entry) but I've been in a funny mood all day.  Funny as in strange, rather than in 'Ha-ha... Mosby, you're so HI-larious!'

Pretty sure I was dreaming about  chilling out with Jill, her pets, chocolate and for some strange reason, the art of Facebooking, when the cell-phone alarm woke me up. Got up early ready for my tried and trusted accountant to come around and pick up my financials. He got lost on the way to my house. Thank God I don't believe in metaphors. Had a long chat about the nefarious Tax Woman and I'm hopeful we can get something sorted, though it may take a few weeks.  Hit the laptop again early to sort and send off some final images to Impact, helped redesign Shaleah's blog and THEN thought about breakfast.

But then didn't get much done except try to sort out my health check-up at the Nuerology Dept at the LGI and then put some more stuff on ebay (check out the link in the blog's left column). I had picked up several copies of  last Friday's edition of the Metro that had the Watchmen additional cover and have had quite a bit of interest on ebay - wish I'd picked up a lot more!  Then had a shower, then did odd chores that left no real sense of accomplishment but needed to be got out of the way.  Ho, as they say, hum.

Then spoke with Jill on the phone this evening and babbled like some sort of idiot. When even *I* know my voice is getting meanderingly ahead of my brain, it's time to call it a day, so I made my farewells and vegged out on the Comic Relief telethon for a while. David Tennant was excellent as the host for the first few hours, French & Saunders' version of Mamma Mia was pretty good but later Claudia Winkleman looked like a cross between a poster for heroin chic and a myopic bullimic panda... seriously bizarre looking woman.

I think I'll write-off this Friday as done and dusted and file it under 'Other'. Tomorrow is another day, thankfully the Satur' version. I sense a lie-in coming on. To sleep perchance to...

Well, I'm okay to go to America. Or at least, ESTA likes me. That's the first line of defence against undesirables wanting to go to the US and very similar to that pesky green form that asks you if you were ever a terrorist, saboteur or member of the Nazi party and, more importantly, if you're bringing any meat or fish into the country. I have no plans on any of those levels, so all should be good. I have about forty days to go, so I'll probably start throwing things into one of the bags in the next week and may even send some clothes ahead to make travelling easier.

Got the final bits for  this issue of Impact done, though the John Cena interview looks like it may have stalled. (Still have plans to interview The Rock if all goes to plan next month). Had to miss doing stuff with Kiefer Sutherland, Julia Roberts and Clive Owen for their various films this week, but deadlines and taxes and bloody expensive trains put paid to that. Probably just as well as I've actually managed to get a lot done.

I got the final photos for the HLWW brochure sent from Lisa Howard and Adrian Paul in the last day or so, so we're good to go on that - the cut-off date is next week, so no more tweakage after that. I'm also doing some minor tweakings to this blog, but nothing TOO drastic.

So awaiting the new Michael Connelly book to take on the plane (something of a ritual) and sorting out a ton of stuff to auction on ebay and through the local auction house (for the things too big to post). Won't bring in any kind of fortune (unless you know anyone who wants 1500 press packs and 2000+ transparencies?) but it will clear some space and make me feel more organised.

Oh - and the image above - is from a day when Ben Miller and I faced off for a Johnny English bodyguarding day... which is there to remind me that Primeval is back on tv soon. Still a somewhat silly show , but actually better than Torchwood :) And Mr Miller's a good guy too.

So, a good eight months before I usually get around to a week of scrutinising them this closely, I've spent the last two days going through my accounts for last year (well, Nov '07 to Oct '08) in a bid to head the taxman off at the pass. Yes, yes, I appreciate it's all legal and essential(ish), it's just the attitude with which I've been talked to at by Taxwoman that sucks. Ah well, I'm quite pleased that I've managed to document all the needed material in only 48hrs and without having to complain to my bank about missing statements and the like. So now it's just down to the ironic hope that I didn't actually earn as much as I originally expected and Taxwoman  guesstimated. The box of paperwork will be off to my accountant soon and I have my fingers crossed that I'm now simply SUPER but merely all kinds of adequate...

Resigning myself to this being a boring  'Bare Neccesities Week' I'm also working my way down/up the list of things I need to get done and prioritising them. The HLWW brochure is all done bar the shouting, the new issue of Verbatim is done but needs to be formatted and the repackaged older additions should be ready for a table at the con in April if not before. I will be yelling about those formally as soon as they're rolling off the production line.

In the next few days/weeks I have to submit the ESTA form to see if I'm adequate enough to be allowed into America (let's hope so, the tickets were non-refundable), pay a few bills, have a health check-up, help the parentals deal with their new computer (fancy Touchscreen, don't you know) and watch them discover the pleasures and pit-falls of  further bulletin boards and blogging. My dad now even has a Facebook page. Makes yer proud, so it does.

Ah, life in the fastlane. I hope life begins at 41.

Despite the outwards signs of a jet-setting lifestyle and the high visibility industry in which I've chosen to be industrious, this is not the kind of profession to enter if you wish to make a lot of money. There are perks and moments of glamour, but all too often it's a hard slog. Ask any writer and they'll tell you that however shiny the finished product, there's blood, sweat and years that go into it. Ask any freelance writer and after the weeping stops they'll also tell you that they do it for the love, because they couldn't do it for the money. But they'd still appreciate that cheque, please. The one that's always in the post.

And, of course, there's the Tax Man. I have an excellent accountant who has seen me right through most of the last decade and hepled me to legitimately avoid paying too much tax on my molehill of actual Net income. However even he didn't actually tell me that because I earned slightly more in the last tax year than previous (molehill duplex, here I come) that it put me over a very specific threshold which means that as a self-employed worker I now have to pay part of what they guesstimate the NEXT year's will be, or the most recent year (taxes not due yet). Bottom line: the money I have to cover the expected tax is now about a 1/4 of what the taxman is demanding. Even Bottomer line: if the rules are this arbitrary, they'll eventually get it, in my own good time, in when I can afford it.

In the meantime, just got an aftercare questionnaire from the hospital that treated me for the 'splodey-head which doesn't ask me how I'm doing, but what colour my skin is and what my religion might be. Deep Joy. I'm so tempted to not return it, but they saved my life, so I probably will. I'll put 'Jedi'.

Just finished sorting the UK show Being Human (vampires and werewolves and ghosts, oh my!) for both Jill and Kerry, arranged my pre-release copy of Michael Connelly's new novel and watched the new Dead Like Me TV movie.

Looks like I Reap what I Owe.