I've never been very good at keeping in contact with people. I'm going for a drink on Friday with a mate I haven't seen for seven years! A lot has changed since I left sixth form, we might not get on any more, he might be a dick now (unlikely), he might think I'm a dick (more likely). Unless I see somebody face-to-face I find it difficult to speak with them. How does a phone conversation actually work? Once you get past, 'Alright mate, how are you?' where does it go from there? I suppose you're meant to talk about what you've been up to but as I've said before, I'm a terrible story teller. No, talking on the phone doesn't work for me.
We live in a world of technology and social networking, it's easy to send somebody a message to say 'Hi' and to basically let them know you're alive. But FB messaging isn't real conversation is it? It's not like anyone's ever told their best friends that they have MS via Facebook... Bollocks. No, text/FB/whatever new types of messaging the cool kids are using today isn't the way to keep in touch.
I often think it would be good if everyone I knew (and liked!) lived in the same area. I think Michael Owen once bought a full street in Liverpool for his friends and family. I don't know how that worked out, I imagine they were mostly Scousers so it was probably crime ridden and unpleasant. (I've only ever met about five Scousers in my life and they were all nice but let's not allow the facts to get in the way of an almost half decent joke.)
And then I remember uni when we were all living so closely together and how many dramas that created. It was like Eastenders at times, if it was to be put on TV I'd call it Bellenders and I admit occasionally I was the bellend. No, everyone living together wouldn't work.
FaceTime seems like the answer to my problems. But it's not, it's awkward. It's like speaking on the phone but you can't move around as easily, I can't lie upside down from a chair as I sometimes do on the phone. I don't fancy many of my mates (one of the exceptions is Matt obviously), why would I want to see them online? And what's the dress etiquette? I don't have a lot going for me at the moment, I do usually look presentable though. (Actually I usually look amazing.) But if I'm in the house I'm normally in shorts and a vest top, and I don't have the arms to look good in a vest top, do I have to get changed before FaceTime-ing? I'm probably overthinking things but that's just because I'm really thoughtful and that's a nice thing. No, FaceTime isn't for me either.
The best, and seemingly only, thing is to meet up. That's difficult though. The lads are living in Swindon, Cardiff, Manchester and Leeds. (I'm classing you as Manchester Tom so as not to embarrass you about living in Warrington.) Finding a weekend when we're all free is rare and the majority of us have to do a fair bit of travelling. I invite them up to Sunderland but it's not exactly a weekend in Vegas. I live at home with my parents and Sunderland is an average night out on a good day.
I'm running out of ways to speak to friends now. Writing a letter is a bit old school (and as Victoria and Jonny will attest I can't really write very well), sending an email is a bit formal (and a lot of people don't even check their inbox, junk mail has seen to that. Apparently a pretty Russian girl is interested in me but even with the penis enlargement I've been offered I fear I'd be a disappointment. Unless she just wants to spoon of course.) and even though I'm really good at telepathy nobody else I know can do it so it would be a one-way conversation.
And so I write this blog. It's not perfect, there's no theme (Is nonsense a theme?) and it's often seemingly pointless. But it does tell people that I'm okay. I know a lot of people read it, somme send me messages and some read anonymously, and that is comforting. As the title suggests, I'd hate to become a stranger to my friends. They mean an incredible amount to me and the (sometimes much too little) interaction we do have is what I live for. I love you everyone!
(A slightly emotional ending yes but whatever you do don't ring me, it's fucking awkward.)
(And the title is a lyric from The Road to Home by Amy MacDonald. It's about somewhere in Scotland I've never been but if you ignore that it's a beautiful song. Not all songs should be taken literally, I don't think Bob Marley ever actually shot the sheriff.)
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