Step One of Twelve

My moniker is grey-eyed-lawyer and I'm a blogoholic.  It has been two years, thirty-seven days since my last post.

I stopped blogging the last time round because I felt I had shared all I wanted to share - my blog had served its purpose and I was starting to become self-indulgent and write in poetry rather than prose.  I'm sure we've all done it from time-to-time, us amateur bloggers.  I think its the sign of a proper journalistic blog that you don't write that kind of a post - or, at least, you don't take the fatal step of clicking "Post."  I made that mistake and it ruined the timbre of my blogging.  So I stopped.

[So why are you back, Grey-Eyes?]

Well, I met a girl.

[Oh, for god's sake, I've read enough tedious blogs like this].

Wait - let me explain.

[*click*]

The thing about science-ficition novels is, that they aren't about science-fiction.  They're not about aliens, or spaceships, or warp-drives. They're a conceit to allow the author to explore the human condition, putting mankind outside his normal frame of reference to discuss the more interesting parts of his humanity. Let me re-state, good science-fiction novels aren't about aliens, or spaceships, or warp-drives, they are just frames of reference.

This isn't a blog about a girl.  She's just a frame of reference.

[Well, sounds a little bit interesting, but I'm not convinced].

That's a fair point, but the chances are, if you're reading this, then this isn't my first post.  It'll take a while to get momentum, show up via links to other blogs, be large enough to appear on search engines.  Hell, by the time anyone finds this thing, I'll have written about the best part of a year of my life.

[So what's with this Grey-Eyes, thing anyway? Is this some sort of Watership Down goes to Court?]

Ah. No. I have grey eyes. And I am a lawyer.  That simple I'm afraid.

So let's assume this is the first track on the difficult second album.  I've broken the ice, I've spilt my drink a little trying to shake you hand, and laughed too loud at your first joke.  Point is, you think I'm weird, but I'm quite cute and I'm obviously trying to impress you so maybe you'll let me buy you a drink.  This time, I promise, no Rohypnol.

Seriously, it gets better from here on in.