Aren’t village clocks that go “bong” charming? On a lovely summer afternoon, if you lived in a village like Botley you’d feel all quaint and middle class when your town hall clock chimed, wouldn’t you? I came out of a Botley pub the other evening to be greeted by the 11pm chimes. 11pm?! That would surely be annoying, right? Anyway, I got to thinking...wouldn’t it be awesome if instead of a quaint “bong”, Botley’s village clock went “bip bip bip bip” repeatedly like a cheap £3.99 alarm clock? And wouldn’t it be joyous if it just carried on like said bed-side alarm clock until some poor sap climbed up and smacked the button to make it stop? And how cool would it be if that poor sap forgot to actually switch the alarm off and found out he’d only hit the snooze button? I’d love to watch that poor bleary-eyed guy have to shimmy all the way up the tower again to hit the right button 4 minutes later. And every time the clocks went back...the same guy could keep on pressing the hour button (or hold it down continuously) until – oops – he went an hour too far and had to cycle all the way around again. These, I believe, would be good times.

I can’t fit in to small talk (but don't feel you have to make room)

I want to know what comes first. Am I awkward before I make small talk, or do I get awkward because of small talk? I make no secret of what I perceive to be the fact that I am on “an acquired wavelength”. I have an awareness that I am weird compared to the norm and I often wonder if this is the problem, or that the real problem might be that actually I am not weird at all, but people think I am weird because (gasp) I think I am weird. Does this make any sense? Have I lost you already? I’ve probably alienated you already, but if I haven’t, please stick around and help me out. Do I think I am weird because of experiences I have had where I think other people have found me weird, or was I weird from the outset? Is that the same question twice?

It’s funny...When I occasionally speak to the whole staff body at my school, I get a few laughs – awesome – you know I’m an attention seeker, right?! When I perform on stage (although it takes a while) I usually find my confidence. But...have a conversation with me after I’ve been performing to an audience and I’m right back in awkward mode.

I think I may throw my social testers in earlier than some. I don’t think this is a conscious act but I can’t be certain. I think I like to know right from the offset whether a new person is on my wavelength. I will throw in spurious nonsense right from the get-go, just to see if the person is going to get me or not. In fact, Johnny [a] Naked Season will testify that his “audition” was largely just a series of tester questions such as whether Galaxy or Cadburys is best, whether chocolate should be eaten from the fridge (separate blog back on MySpace, I wouldn’t doubt) and who is the most annoying cast member in the original Star Wars Trilogy. For your minimal interest, John and I did a count-down from three and we both simultaneously (correctly) said it was Nien Num, Lando Calrisian’s co-pilot in Return of the Jedi – and this may well have been the day I enlisted him.

When I was younger they put me a year above my age in my junior school. I think there were about twelve of us and I was the only boy. I can vaguely recall one girl, Sian, who “bullied” me, I think – or at least that is how I remember it. Does all my social awkwardness (perceived or not) go back to this torrid time, or did I have a bad time based on who I already was? Was I a target from the start? Was I, in fact, bullied at all? I really don’t know. Chances are Sian was merely making conversation – or was trying to make conversation – and I was awkward even then. I’ve seen pictures of me when I was ten years old – I was a pretty boy – I suspect Sian just had a crush on me!

But don’t go thinking that just because of Sian my inability to speak with people applies only to women. I can think of few men who give me the time of day. I’m the first to admit I am not “a lads’ lad”, but it seems strange that I am apparently so ill-fitting in Testosterone World when I actually do follow football, I do watch Top Gear and I do drink lager. In my heart of hearts I can tell you I don’t do these things to try and fit in – I do them because I want to.

I guess my issue (if there is one at all) is that I just don’t invest enough emotion in things like football, lager and small-talk to fit in. I could name you the starting eleven in England’s 4:1 defeat the other day, but I am not sure I could name every player’s club team. I don’t follow the premiership now Southampton and Portsmouth are not in it, other than to keep half an eye on the title race. I don’t go out drinking much, but I’ll pretty much always have the odd bottle of beer when the footy’s on. I watch Top Gear, but I’m usually on line whilst it is on and I only really pay full attention if there is a star in a reasonably priced car or some amusing footage of the presenters driving into each others’ cars.

I have worked hard on my small talk and I think I have become much better at it. These days I even remember to reciprocate when someone asks me how I am – and – here’s the kicker – I even listen! Also...sometimes, when people ask me how I am, I remember to just say that I am fine rather than to go off on a selfish rant my innocent victim neither deserves or desires to listen to.

I witnessed the following man-talk between two male friends (I have changed the names) at the weekend. This is the kind of man talk that makes me chuckle:

Paul (pointing at baby Megan)- “What is that?”
Lewis (shrugging) – “Dunno.”
Paul – “Somethin’ to do with you I s’pose. Tele broke was it?”
Lewis - “Commercial break, ‘wonnit.”

And perhaps this very “conversation” itself, when compared with the unnecessarily polysyllabic drivel (oh look how clever I am! Praise me! Praise me!) I spout both in written and verbal formats, is the purest and clearest explanation as to why I feel I don’t fit in – because I just don’t – and that’s that.