These are my legs, Jesus sandals and shorts.
Sorry for opening with such a picture, it’s unforgivable. But all will become clear as you read on…

Being a man, body hair, schlong and all, there are some things that do not come naturally. Remembering anniversaries. Washing my hands after using the bathroom. And organisation, planning. Lists, I hate lists. I might come across as a deliberate, slightly-gay, well-measured guy that organises his books and DVDs alphabetically, and makes sure everything is just so, but I assure you that isn’t the case. There are a few things that I’m good at: photography for one, I’m perfectionist in that regard. Video games? I’m down-right pro at video games. Rational thought too: if you want someone to make the right choice at the right moment, I’m your man.

But these are living-in-the-moment affairs. It’s the long, over-arching planning that I suck at. If the devil is in the details, I’m Jesus. I don’t keep a diary or even a wall calendar marked with important dates. The only birthdays I usually remember are my parents’. When someone asks me if I’m available next weekend I shrug non-committally, say ’sure!’ and pray no one else has requested my presence elsewhere (I don’t have many friends so I’m usually safe in this department…) In short, I’m a man and I require a good woman to do my thinking and planning for me. Currently this is a role fulfilled by my mother, but I’m sure there’ll be a lucky wife eventually…

[If you can't deal with vivid 'male bits' imagery, the next bit is probably not for you. If you do like stories of this kind, go check out Lilu's blog!]

Anyway, to cut to the chase: I’m the kind of guy that packs his bags only a few hours before he leaves. And I always forget something. I’m fairly experienced at the whole bag-packing thing so I rarely forget anything important — I’ve only forgotten my mobile phone charger once and I’ve never left my passport at home! — but on more than one occasion I have forgotten to pack… underwear. That’s right, I spent 12 days in Turkey, in 40-degree (104F) heat with just a single pair of boxer shorts. (Don’t worry, I had two pairs of socks, my hygiene wasn’t that bad…)

I’m going to use the same picture so you can look at them again but with this new information in mind!

(See those crinkles? They are well worn. They say ‘kiss’ all over them, if you can’t make it out. And those are red lips printed on.)

You’ve probably heard about the ‘back to front’ and ‘inside out’ techniques of odor-mitigation and boxer freshness longevity (or more simply ‘the underpant inversion method’ as I like to call it). You’ve probably seen it joked about in films like American Pie or Van Wilder. You probably laughed and said ‘Eww! Gross! No Way!’

What you didn’t know is that men actually do it.

I know, it’s too disgusting to contemplate, but men actually wear the same underwear for days or even weeks at a time! With creative folding, those sprays that people use to remove the lingering smell of cigarette smoke and a radiator or hair dryer, a man can stretch out one pair of boxers an awfully long time.

In my case, on no less than three different holidays, I’ve taken only one pair of boxer shorts.

I wore them while clambering over the ancient ruins of Thermessos in Turkey. It’s safe to say I perspired rather heavily in the process. Six days later I was still wearing them when I went for a hot-air balloon ride with five other people — they kept throwing odd glances in my direction (which is not unusual) but instead of staring as they usually do, they grimaced and pinched the bridge of their nose, a look of revulsion spreading across their face.

Then in Prague, through 3 days of drunken debauchery and sweaty hiking around the city, I wore the very same boxers. I had washed them since Turkey though.

Finally, during a 4-day LAN Party, I forgot to bring spare underwear. Four days of sitting on my ass, four days of no showers. In the middle of summer and surrounded by 1000 other gamers and computers.

I had to use rubbing alcohol and a chisel to prise them from my skanky, geeky legs. I even had to get my mother to come and help. What can I say, we’re close.

I’ve successfully written something every weekday for over six months. In fact, for five months I blogged every day. 296 entries published in 193 days. That has to be some kind of record.

Yosemite National Park, striking a pose.
I usually call this ‘The Explorer’ photo, which is rather fitting considering where I am soon going!

And now I’m going to break the perfect streak! Come Monday morning, I am LEAVING! On a jet plane! To the Faroe Islands! For 17 days! (I know, I’m either going to love this trip, or get so incredibly bored…)

This means a few things:

• No more daily updates but…
• … Over the next 17 days you are likely to get a lot of pretty photos and not much else. Hopefully this is good news!
• I will be slow, or fail entirely, at responding to comments. But do let me know if you like or dislike the photos — this will be a bit of a learning experience for me and I’m eager to find out if I can do the Faroe Islands justice. I hope I can…
• However, with regard to comments, if you buy a print I’ll always respond to you, guaranteed! (I’ll get some photos from the Faroes up on my shop as soon as possible.)
• No more deep-and-meaningful stuff for at least three weeks. I might however write a little on contentious topics like whaling, and how cute (but inbred) Faroese girls are.

And with that said, I’m going to pack my bags. If someone could remind me on Sunday night to check if I’ve packed plenty of clean underwear, that’d be great.

I’ll take a photo in full Faroe Islands Bad Weather Hiking Gear on Sunday night before I leave. And for your viewing pleasure I’ll be wearing the gold-sequined Minnie Mouse ears. Someone actually bought a personalised landscape and requested the ears, can you believe it?

(Click for larger)

Ho ho ho!

…

Everyone else seemed to be doing Christmas cards so I thought I’d jump on the bandwagon. It being Thursday, the last sensible blogging day before Christmas, I tried to be festive and fold in the too-much-information thing. [Obligatory link to Lilu, The Queen of TMI's blog]. Did I succeed? You can hardly tell the cat’s been composited in, right? I tell you, I’m never doing cat photography again. I thought it was meant to be easy! Damnit, I’m a bona fide PEOPLE PHOTOGRAPHER now! She kept scarpering ‘neath the tree with her tail ‘tween her legs. No amount of coaxing would get her to play ball: she just wouldn’t eat the fucking tuna. So yeah, the cat was there in spirit, but I did cheat a little; sorry. (That really is tuna in the bowl, incidentally — I do have some integrity.)

So, Merry Christmas to you all, or a happy and festive winter holiday if you don’t do Christmas. I’m not meant to do Christmas, being a Jew and all, but… well… it’s very close to Hanukkah (which was last week) — what’s a few days going to matter? It’s not like our calendar is anywhere near accurate after 2000 years anyway. It’s just religious scripture mumbo jumbo; where’s the spirituality in fixed dates? I think we humans just like organised, predictable holidays… makes our life more tangible, secure, safe.

I think I can squeeze in a few posts next week, before the New Year. They’ll probably take the usual, banal ‘review’ format — I might, if I have one of those rare, sentimental moments, even ask you about how your year has been.

Have a lovely few days anyway. Eat too much! Don’t drink too much! Relax — properly, deeply, wholly — and enjoy the holiday. You’ve earnt it (probably).

P.S. My mother also wishes you a Merry Christmas! She bubbled most effusively at the idea of her festively-dressed living room being on my blog. It does look rather nice!