I took all my diaries and photos out of the attic and put them in the back of the van. Then I made an excuse to swap the surround sound system to her old one and now that's ready to go when the day comes. I haven't touched her all weekend. I wonder how long this can go on until she says something. I had a great weekend playing with my son and I can rationalise that he and I will get through it fine. I cancelled my operation the other day so I'm  definitely  serious about leaving. I am going to try improve my mood in between now and the end as my stomach aches all the time with nerves and Sunday's hangover on top was a terrible combination.

"I'm not a robot" (marina and the diamonds), seems to calm my soul at the moment. This is the biggest decision of my life except it's always been in my mind. My friend Dan said to me when I was about thirteen, " you might be the first to marry...but you'll be the first to divorce". I never forgot those words. It seems to be coming true.



Today I am hungover and a little upset at myself. I have swapped the amp that's mine in the living room for the one in the attic so that I can leave quicker when it happens. I feel sick all the time when I think of what I have planned. I feel nothing for my wife. So I should leave right? It's not going to do us any good staying together is it? My son is everything to me and still will be. I will see him as much as I'm allowed. He's not even three so he will get used to the idea quickly enough I hope. I am doing this in the hope that we are all going to be better off in the long run. I'm no fun to be around at the best of times but now I'm an empty vessel. Things have to get worse before they get better.

Saturday. We went to a brand new kids indoor soft play area today. Dragon's Den it's called and we were the third signature in the book. It's the biggest and best of the few I have been to. I will come back without a doubt. £3.50 well spent for two hours play. Very quiet for opening day but once word gets around it'll become a success. I have successfully moved my diaries out of the attic and so now I know that the worst cannot happen. I refer to them being destroyed in a row, which by the way isn't happening. Why do my wife and I row when I don't want to and now that I could use the motivation she isn't being a cow.

I sit alone in Silsden in a pub enjoying a pint of bitter. It feels like my life is about to start. I am unbelievably excited and yet it's going to be upsetting too. Leaving a marriage wasn't on the plans but it's necessary. It's either that or rot, and make my wife rot too.
Twelve months from now I hope to live a different life with my wonderful son. I am slowly taking my valuables to work so that I can make a clean break for it when the house is ready. I want to avoid a big blowup if I can. Is it wrong to want to split up so much?. I am in control  of my destiny. I think a  good cry will be best eventually to deal with the situation, but not yet. 
I'm going to have a good drink tonight. 

I was listening to my wife tell me a story from her working day, as one does, and I realised that she didn't expect me to be fascinated by it and I wasn't gripped by it. People fill the air with noise that have no other meaning than to make it seem like you are communicating. I had my morning wash as my wife ( and not slagging her off), told me about some pallets not being delivered by her work. A voice in my head interrupted. " I wonder what happens at the end.(Sarcastic voice went as follows) What will become of the undelivered pallets? Will they arrive today and if so will the customer be ok with that? I do hope she tells me the rest of the story and doesn't keep me hanging on. 
I know I'm being a bit of a prick but it made me smile as I heard the voice. I don't talk about work cos I know nobody would care but other people don't seem to have that cut off. I hear them say "oh I had pizza last night for tea, lovely" I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.
I'm rubbish at conversation because I don't think I have anything interesting to say. I see the bored look on peoples faces as I talk about films but I struggle otherwise. 

When I was a teenager I had a friend in the village who I could talk to. We remain friends to this day but seldom see each other unlike in those days. Being too young for pubs and too full of energy and ambition to sit quietly we would wander the streets. We would sometimes wander the streets of other villages too since we had been walking for that long. I would fill these walks with talks of various crushes and soul searching. My friend would listen and offer thoughts like a councillor which in many ways he was. He was from family of parents who were still together and I respected his family for that and made his advice seem all the more valid. My quest for settling down would take the time for meeting up out of the equation. Friends take a back seat since " You can't shag your mates". Girlfriends become the most important thing and mates second. Well if anything is to change this year I hope I can have my friends back, just without the acne and angst.

This year is a year about focusing on what I want out of life and upon examining my lot, I found I had driven off course. I am going to have to reverse before I can get back on the right path.
Today the vision of my future became clearer and more defined. I see a path of change ahead and I have committed to it. I want to spend time doing things that please me and not sit wishing I could. Sorry if this sounds vague but I can't give away anything blatant. 

Once again to Holmefield Mills for an investigation with WYPG. My sister and I were lucky enough to acquire tickets again and so with great excitement we wrapped up to explore for spirits. We found familiar  faces again amongst the group and joined Richards as we did last time. Our first location was the Boxing ring where Lila would lead us in a table tipping experience which would work immediately. The table answered our questions without any doubt and straight away.  A Mr Lister spirit took a liking to Sarah in our group. She looked like his wife, the one that he had killed. I wasn't doubting Sarah when i asked if we could swap places and have the table tip towards my sister and i, but when the table tipped to us i was satisfied that it was a spirit. Strange smells emanated near us and shadow play made us feel like we were being watched. Next was a cold corridor nearby and more tables rocked for us. A glass spun for us enough for a large man to proclaim that that was enough for him and he was getting a taxi home at our first break. The nursery table tipping moved less assuredly by a woman spirit of 28 who protected the children from a quite nasty lady who wanted to hurt the children. But yet again Mr Lister interrupted and continued to follow us around to each location. Later in a location previously unavailable we picked up on a 35 year old man who had been related to renovation work done on the mill. He had suffered a heart attack whilst driving and had left two blond daughters and a son behind. This new part was investigated due to a member of staff having a fully formed man walk through her in the corridor and now she won't go there. The teams mingled with each other at the end and my sister and I shared a glass session with only two other young girls and we still got the glass answering questions. Tiredness gripped me as well as the freezing cold by 5am and so we left full of new tales to tell. Until Bolling Hall I now shall rest.
Chris Whitehouse.

I watched Twilight Eclipse last night and enjoyed the token two minutes where the action happened. I read a quote about the film which I enjoyed,
" one woman's choice between necrophilia and beastyality". These bland films have made lots of money but you can tell the writers Mormon influence. I've had to turn lovefilm off as well as cancel my film mag subscription. We are trying to reach zero with our finances rather than in the overdraft every month, but with nothing to look forward to getting my mood has dipped further. Being allowed to do the smallest of things is now the highlight of my day, it's unfair to be reduced to asking permission to do everything. 

Today, my soul weighs nothing. Two nights with little sleep have reduced me to a whisper of a person. Married life has ground me into a powder and if the wind would blow me into insignificance. 
Well that's how I feel today. My only power is my son. He is my 'Sun', the centre of my universe around which I gravitate. Marriage is the asteroid belt between he and I. The golden days of mediocre have passed leaving a worn place in the carpet where my feet have been stagnating for too long. 
I hope you get my drift. 
I think the the great philosopher 'Yazz' (as well as her plastic population) said it best, "The Only Way is Up". 

Four gulps of southern comfort and your own music (Nitzer Ebb) shaking the Walls as you clean the house. With just you home and no bullshit in your ears, you remember who you are, but lament the fact that you have faded into a whisper since settled in your late thirties. I want to shake off the cobwebs that hold me back in my position on the sofa. I will know doubt die with a tv remote in my hand but I also love music and sometimes forget how much. Everyone knows me as a film watcher, but the truth of it is given a choice between tv and music, I would pick music. 

My sister and I have got last minute tickets back to holmefield mills with West Yorkshire Paranormal Group. Another all night investigation which we thoroughly loved last time at Halloween. It seemed to bring a terrible mood out of my wife though so I'm awaiting an argument. I guess if a non believer sees you paying £25 to stand in an empty mill all night then they would see it as a tremendous waste of money. Four weeks after I have another at a different location. I feel very lucky to be going to these and it bothers me that my wife can't  share in my excitement. I know we are all into different things but I wouldn't have a go at what she was into. Let's see what comes of it.

I re watched Dorian Gray (2009) last night. My wife has an interest in all things Oscar Wilde. I had read the book prior to going to the cinema on it's release. I enjoyed it more from knowing the story beforehand. But if you were alive at the time and stuck in the room with this bloke, you would probably think him a twat. With his dominating character always wanting to hog the limelight at any get together, he would be unbearable. As you were telling a story to your friends he would interject "well as I always say....." and come out with a clever remark. You would jump up "look Oscar you fucking prick, this is my story, do I interrupt your stories when you regale us?, nobhead!"  
I bet Shakespeare was just as bad. Idiots.

I think I've just completed the bare bones of a story. I've tried writing stories since I was probably eleven and always stopped after the first chapter. I have first chapters of various scripts and stories but they are always stopped as soon as I read them back. 
However I was determined to write something and expect it to be rubbish and then re write it better. Normally I write once and as with this blog, don't even read it back once. I find I love the feeling I get from writing alone. It seems to spout quite freely from the pen (or iPod). But to read it is where I see that as good as it felt to write it doesn't read like that. It would be great if I could get my story to a stage that I can print off one copy to be read by nearest and dearest. Something solid I could hold in my hand would be cool. I've managed to do this blog for almost seven months and it's a nice feeling for me at least to visit it just to see that it exists, but you can't hold it in your hand. 
This year has started off pretty slowly and so it's been difficult to know what to write which explains why it doesn't feel like I'm saying much. I think it's time to tell a few stories from my past soon. Since doing this blog is basically free therapy for me. 

The date for my vasectomy has arrived. It's only a matter of a few weeks. I'm not as worried as when I was waiting to have it done at the end of last year. I have less attachment to my 'Sexticles' these days.  it will be like carrying around two empty barrels. I wonder if they will eventually have spiders living in them and one brown leaf, like plant pots in a disused shed. I was meant to have a pre assessment but I can't remember if I went. I want general anaesthetic to knock me out for definite. When I recover in hospital I can picture myself walking through the ward like a zombie, like Jack Nicholson in 'One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest'. Maybe I will befriend an Indian who will throw a sink through the window. Maybe I won't wake up..shit!.
One thing will come from it that I look forward to, watching films and playing computer games. Near a week of couch sitting... Bliss. 

Somekind of spot lump or ingrowing hair had taken it's hold on my cheek/chin. I remembered a suction tip had worked on a workmate but I couldn't remember the exact rules. I burnt a match into an upside down pasta sauce jar. I placed it on my spot and it sucked my skin in a bit. I wanted more suction so emptied a vanilla flavouring bottle which was redundant at the back of the cupboard. It was a small neck and the match hovered briefly over the rim. I stuck it on my face. Ouch, I almost branded an already sore patch. My wife was fascinated do she got the original sauce jar and heated it over the hob gas ring and plunged it on to my cheek. Really ouch, this time. I said it might not feel hot to dab your hand on it, but my cheek is different. I eventually received the correct advise. Put boiling water in a bottle for ten minutes and then pour out water and stick to your spot. As it cools your skin is sucked out along with the puss etc. It turned out it wasn't a spot so nothing happened other than putting a circle on my face. 

This morning my son woke up to a large toy box full of toy dinosaurs donated by a friends children. He was overjoyed with them. He tore himself away to come to 'The Blue Frog' which isn't a lap dancing club, but a soft play area. He and I crept out at nine thirty am, leaving his mum in bed. This time it's quiet and so much better. I can work on my story, now entitled 'Cube'. 
Later.....
It's getting busy now, but I haven't wanted to punch any children yet so I'm getting better. This awards me piece and quiet too if you ignore the animalistic calls and squeals of the children. If you imagine you are in a jungle it's just like wildlife squashing and you soon stop hearing it. Without this free wifi I'd be buggered.

I posted my second review at http://cwhitehouse.tumblr.com/ and read them back and I am unhappy with then so far. This is mostly due to the fact that other websites give you the plot and then break the film down. Mine doesn't really convey much. But there are loads of film pages. Shouldn't mine be different and have my own stamp on it?. This really is a work in progress. Why would anyone want to read my site in particular. I need to attach a disclaimer. I want the reader to already know the bare bones of what this film is. Maybe then I connect with them by infusing my opinion and hope they can take something from that.
God knows but I'm still going to try. 

I stumbled across Movie-ozone.blogspot.com today and I was in their blogging friends list. I couldn't be more thankful. Just yesterday in light of a bit of inspiration from http://thedailyphotobooth.tumblr.com/ I started a page at
Http://cwhitehouse.tumblr.com/ which I intend to work on film reviews and improve my writing in that format. 

Anyway I cobbled together my review of Toy Story 3 to try work out how to use the app. My wife just shook her head at me telling her what I was doing. My entire life seems to be judged like that in her eyes. Why devote so much effort to something that won't be read I thought, well isn't life itself pretty pointless? So I shall do it for the love of it. 
I borrowed Medal of Honour from a friend and completed one level before bed. It's like Call of Duty's one year younger brother trying to show off in front of his elder brothers friends. 'please like me I am just the same as Call of Duty'. I enjoyed it but because it's so similar it's like playing a blatant forgery. So as a nightcap I played Black Ops online for half an hour. Gamer tag j29052008 on ps3 for any one that's interested. 

A friend of mine has started a blog which involves taking one picture everyday and posting it on his site. He explained to me that when he looks back on each photo it will evoke memories of where he was or what he was doing. It's a brilliant idea. He's got a good visual eye. It's at http://thedailyphotobooth.tumblr.com/

These days people seem to be starting online blogs and photo diaries etc and really enjoying it. There was a guy in the paper who took a photo of his daughter everyday and she was reaching ten years old. It must be great to look back at them. I buy a newspaper on my sons birthday so when he's 18 or whatever he will have a good feel for a life he can't remember. I also have a note book where I write things he has said and phrases he has started saying to document his growth. All these things take a tiny amount of effort really, but have great reward in the long run. I grow up from a generation of people who don't really know the characters of their own parents before they had us as children. Nowadays the Internet allows a lasting log of detail and movement of everyone. If I have learnt anything from writing a diary and having them now number so many. I have learnt that it's never too late to pursue something. Time passes and we reflect on the things we never did but there are a lot of seconds left in our lives yet. So many things can be achieved now for no money.

I have been painting with my two year old on his easel in our kitchen. He painted a dragon, apparently, and I said I just wanted to paint it's eyes yellow. He said yes at first and then straight away afterwards he shouted NO. It was too late. He shouted I DON'T WANT TO PAINT, and tried to screw the paper up. I said "ok well don't paint then" as loud as he had. He stormed off into the front room and paced around in circles waving his arms about. He told my wife that "Daddy should stop talking a me like dat" my wife was in fits of laughter at us having fallen out over such things. Our artistic visions had clashed and no doubt we will stay at opposite ends of the room for the next hour or so. I don't care if he is only two, so there.

This watching what I eat and drink hasn't even started. I'm having whisky tonight as I watch Toy Story 3. I have started playing Fable 3 aswell as going online with Black Ops. The hours fly by. WOW it was great being a kid/single and having loads of free time. I used to play sonic the hedgehog for about eight hours in the early nineties. In those days you couldn't save your games. This was true dedication. My dear friend would come to my room and complete Outrun on my megastore whilst pontificating about life and it's many possibilities. I hear that other people confine playing on games consoles to their childhood but I don't see why. I don't consider it childish at all. It gives me more pleasure now than it ever did. It ties in with my love of gadgetry though. I have been writing my story where possible and reading, so I do do other things. As Facebook disappeared out of my life it was replaced by online gaming. It's more rewarding. 

We took our son to an indoor soft play area so he could let off some steam. Everything is padded except for the other children, non of whom look where they are walking. A little boy entered into the play area excited. he squeezed my son's cheeks between clenched fists and it hurt. I wanted to kick him in his young face. Unfortunately these play areas bring out this over protective nature in adults. His mum did and said nothing. Later though my son and I went passed him as he ran around looking for his mummy who he'd lost. He cried out for his mummy and dived onto the floor and curled up crying. My son and I practically stepped over him. Good, I thought. Then I felt shitty for feeling like that. But this mentality is the core feeling when taking your little ones to mix with other kids.

We have booked a cheap holiday to Norfolk. This is the first time I have been to that area and also I've not been to a Haven holiday before. Butlins, Pontins and Haven all have a stigma attached but I also have a friend who's been for an affordable break and he says it's ok. It will be a new experience anyway. The old horror stories include them being dirty or cold as they are small static caravans but I'm trying not to think negative. The kids find Norfolk funny as it's where people make jokes about the locals being inbred. I think everywhere has that from another place though. All Yorkshireman are supposed to shag sheep but I have not.....yet. However maybe when I arrive on site I will be led to a piss soaked bedroom by a woman with less teeth than eyes and a moustache. We paid for top rate service which basically meant that as well as a bed we would have blankets too, I had always thought that a bed consisted of bed and bedding and they were not two separate items. Self catering should avoid most dirt issues too. Look, it's better than camping in a tent and if I can't take it I'll drive home.

 I Realised I was dreaming that I was running through a field. I started to utter a sentence which got progressively louder until it became a shout. But as it became a shout, the words I shouted didn't emerge in the dream. I heard a mumble which I took to be what I had made out in the real world. So it was then that I worried about where my control of the dream world ended. At that moment the field be became populated with animals followed by my mind saying "oh I hope I don't dream.." and with that the animals grew twenty foot high like giants. I imagined that they were fenced in. I climbed up the fence but then an over sized sheep approached to lick my tiny climbing hands. As it touched me the fence was then an unlocked gate and it swung open with me clinging on. I panicked and I awoke in bed. Very very strange. This maybe the tenth time I recall realising I was dreaming and trying to manipulate it. I have met my friend in my dream and slapped him in the face and told him "you do realise that you are not real, you are just my imagining of you" but I expect this avatar version to almost reel in horror but ofcourse it doesn't. It's scary when you realise your brain works independently of what you feel is you. If that makes sense.

I am sat outside the doctors once again to start the organising of my operation to stop me having anymore children. It was the fault of the hospital that it didn't go ahead as planned last year. I don't hold any fondness of losing this part of me. My son has ticked all the boxes I needed in this area.

In the doctors waiting room now. Rows of empty seats at the moment. Is the receptionist behind glass to protect her from germs, I suppose that makes sense. It's the serenity of the waiting room which makes me nervous. Doctors and dentists both have tv or radio on quietly and it un nerves me. The sterile Walls and old magazines creep me out. I think I'd rather there was a bit more life, then I'd feel at ease.

I have played Black Ops online in a free for all match when possible and after using the toilet upstairs I walked the landing back to the stairs. My step daughter exited her room ahead of me from the side. In my head I instinctively shot her as she wouldn't have seen me in the game, maybe it can cause problems after all. 

I was in the doctors waiting room with my son and we were in the childrens pen. The 'toys' which were supplied were the remnants of good toys. If you can imagine when you see the remains of an animal after the vultures have finished and only the bones are left then that's what these toys were like. Electronic toys without batteries and buttons missing. My son played with the empty carcasses of these once brilliant presents. I can't understand why people would give a pack of cards to a doctors surgery and say "I'm afraid the actual cards are lost but I thought people would play with the box and instructions". 
I would give my sons oldest toys to this place but I give them to the children's ward at the hospital. 

After tea tonight I watched 'Jumper' for the second time and enjoyed every minute of it. I had forgotten what a good ninety minutes it was no matter how fanciful the plot. With my film box ticked I could then plough through the 'Dragon Tattoo' book some more in the hope of getting through the tricky start I had been pre warned about. By page 75 I had put my little boy to bed around ten times. This is as grim as night time parenting gets. In my minds eye I was throwing him onto his bed each time I had to put him back and so I just held the door closed whilst he had a tantrum for a while. Fingers crossed he has gone down for a couple of hours. The teens are back at school tomorrow and they don't need getting out of bed to be made any harder. So the main part of the evening has been spent with the tv off as promised to myself. I had one glass of water today too so my body is wondering when the neat alcohol will join it. 

There has been a new box added to my blog which means that a page can be voted for in a writing contest of some description. If I deserve a vote for any reason then please vote with this box as it's the only recognition I am ever likely to receive between now and death. If you write a blog and it's better then vote for yourself instead. If you read my blog and you think it's rubbish then more fool you for reading it. The fact remains that are still reading this though.

Welcome to 2011, a clean slate in a new decade. Improvements are going to be made in this new decade. My body will deteriorate further however but I want to enjoy the next ten years as they will mean a lot in my son's life. He will almost be a teenager in ten years. It sounds a long way away, but the millennium celebrations do not feel long ago. I'm not making resolutions here but if we all agree to do a few things better then maybe our time will be better. If I drink a glass of water at all then it will be more than I had last year. If I go for more than ten walks I will have improved since 2010. 
I hope to visit friends and family more plus turn the tv off more and read, write or paint ( which isn't as huge a leap as it sounds).
I have been accused, rightly so, of isolating myself from everyone and I need to be more sociable and yet maintain that people will not share my enjoyment of things I enjoy. We all have opinions and they will differ. Let's see what the next years  bring.