Good to see Steve blogging again.
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, wherein a man has his heart ripped out of his chest, and is then pushed, still living, into lava. Certificate PG.
The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Galaxy, containing trivial swearing, a little comic violence, and nothing more scary than some very nerdy humour. Certificate 15. WTF?
Gödel's unpublished third incompleteness theorem: Women are formally undecidable.
I went to see some a friend do some comedy on Monday, at the Cavendish Arms. It turned into one of the most bizarre evenings of my life.
Not enough acts turned up, as isn't unusual on an open-mike night. One chap had brought a lady along on a date, a musician. She volunteered to sing a couple of comic songs to pad out the show.
When his turn came, he proceeded to regale us with sordid tales of his Internet dating. Very sordid tales. The man a colossal pervert, basically.
Meanwhile, his date was squirming. Clearly this was all news to her. When she came up for her act she told the entire audience that she was never, never going to sleep with him now. Never ever.
She then proceeded to blow the rest of the acts off the stage. Funny, and a superb pianist. "Padding out" my, err, hat.
Somehow, I ended up with her phone number. I have no idea how - it's just so unlike me. I mean, with her date still around. Very alpha-male; not me at all. Must have been the Red Stripe.
So, should I ring her?
Question: should Converse plimsolls be retired when they have holes in their sides? I think so, and I'm the one with big holes in my shoes. Even according to my loose standards, I feel I'm looking a bit vagrant. Matt, on the other hand, thinks that Converse are supposed to look beaten up; the worse the condition, the better.
We should Ask Hadley...
Did you know that the ampersand is nearly two millenia old? Wow.
Via Daring Fireball.
Update: Millenia, not centuries. Thabks, Rob.
The good news; the new Guardian Sport and Football sites were launched successfully, and seem to be working fine. The bad news; 24 hour licensing notwithstanding, we couldn't find anywhere to serve us a beer at two in the morning. Grrr.
Update: More on the new sites here; Our new look.
We often have applause rippling around our office. Usually it's positive but not always...
Yesterday, one of our devs (who shall remain nameless) was looking for duplication in some form of content or other, and came up with a script. It was always going to be evil - it was in Perl. The script made calls to Google, looking for duplicate results. He kicked it off, then went out for lunch.
Google, naturally, blocked us PDQ. Quite right too - see 5.3. They blocked the entire Guardian. (You could still use Google, but had to get past a captcha for each search.)
Of course, we've all done it. Haven't we? But blocking the entire Guardian was a bit of a coup.
Took us a while, but we managed to find the box in question and kill the script. The nameless dev was late back from lunch - we were speculating that he might have been bundled into a black van with a G on the side. But he did get back safe and sound, to a rousing round of applause from the entire office.
Up and Then Down, fascinating article about lifts. Did you know that the close button usually doesn't do anything?
In future, I'm taking the stairs.
If you suffer from vertigo, do not watch this:
Freaked me right out, I can tell you. Right, I need a cup of tea...
Via Binary by Accident.
dawkins:release-33 simon$ history|awk '{a[$2]++} END{for(i in a){printf "%5d\t%s\n",a[i],i}}'|sort -rn|head
232 svn
29 cd
25 sudo
22 svnlog
18 rm
17 ls
15 ssh
12 notify
11 python
10 mate
Update: I like Tom's; cowsay, brilliant.
This is what I call a bad day. First you die, then they lose your luggage. Bummer.
Today was running the Pink dolphins use sticks and stones to impress the ladies story just as I was drifting up towards conscience this morning. My first thought was that it was all part of some weird dream. I mean, pink dolphins? What was I drinking last night?
Once I was sure I was really sure that I was hearing what I was hearing, I got all confused about the date. Tuesday already? Where did the weekend go?
Please, Today, don't do that to me again.
Ullapool? Funny - I thought it would have been Birmingham. That's the biggest hole I know of...
This old post of mine has an old-style Guardian URL in one of its comments. Click on it, and you'll end up at a new style URL.
Not much to see, I'll admit, but I'm pleased - Matt and I made that happen.
Where's your "I've got a new Mac, and it's lovely" post, Matt?
I somehow contrived to break my glasses on my way into work this morning. They are currently held together with sellotape. Even by my standards, I'm a bit of a nerd cliche today.
So, naturally, it's this morning that I meet the lovely Nell Boase. Sigh.
Update: Photo as requested.
Dr Who with Kylie. The best the Commonwealth has to offer.
Bit of a Poseidon Adventure rip-off, but fun.
Err, that's it really.
Looks like I'm going to spend the next couple of months writing bloody football match report pages. I hate football. Sigh. Still - no more boring than reinsurance software, I suppose.
Update: Still, it's not all bad. The coffee machine has been fixed, the canteen had porridge this morning, and Kylie's looking for a Guardian reading man.
It all started when I had soup for tea last night...
I took yesterday afternoon off to nip across to Reading for a parents' evening, missing a retrospective. This morning, I find I'm giving a breakfast brown bag on news story packages (a set of interesting if complex user stories that I've been working on).
I don't think "bastards" is too strong a word.
It's my last day at work today, and look, how sweet, they baked me a cake.
This afternoon and evening are going to be brutal. I was out 'till three drinking Red Stripe last night, so I'm going to have to start off gently...
ThoughtWorks on Monday...
Update: I also got a very nice lens, and a less nice hangover.
Most of the bits of kit on my desk are now decorated with post-it notes. Matt's having my chair when I leave, being the only non-midget in the company. Steve A's getting roadkill. Margo's the worst, getting in first requisitioning my 21", 1600 by 1200 monitor before anyone else, and grabbing the stand it's on. And my scissors. She's even after my scissors.
There have even been attempts to nab stuff that's mine. Neil's been nosing around my USB drive. Margo has even tried to get my Homer figure, and I'm expecting a post-it on dawkins any time now. They had better not try anything, that's all I'm saying.
Picking over the bones, and I'm not even gone yet. Sigh.
BTW, my leaving do is next Friday. All welcome. Well, all non-teetotallers, that is.
Made it in to work today despite the snow. The local news reported that my branch of the Northern Line was suspended, which was a good sign, since they are always wrong.
And sure enough, the station was open, and trains were running, though according to a hand-written sign, "Severe delays is occuring to all services." Grrrrr...
And to Tatiana, naturally. Nadya was born at twenty to five this morning. Mother and baby are well. God knows what state the father is in.
Update: He's obviously not that bad, 'cos he's put more photos up. Beautiful.
It's 26°C in my office at the moment. It was up to 28°C earlier. It's even too hot for Tulna!
The heating is broken - stuck full on. Aside from the discomfort, having the heating on full blast at the same time as having all the windows open isn't exactly ecologically sound, and must be costing a fortune.
Still, they claim to have fixed it now, so lets hope it cools down a bit before I fall asleep.
Update: Nope, 26°C again today.
Nice photo of Tulna and I at Once in A.
No acting required. ;-)
Be patient - it is moving, honest, just very slowly. Provided you've clicked the "play" button, that is - otherwise, it's not moving. ;-)
Via Paul Mannix.
See also:
... And the Law Lost.
My Jury Duty is over. One week long trial, at the end of which we were unable to find the nasty little oik guilty due to the total lack of solid evidence against him, then they let me off early for some reason.
So, I'll be able to go to both London 2.0rc3 this evening, and Freja's school play next week. Top.
Now I have 40 squillion emails and blog entries to catch up on, so if you'll excuse me...
I'm not in work this week or next - I'm on Jury Duty. I'm not allowed to talk about the case - and I don't really want to, if I'm honest. Suffuce to say that my impression of human nature isn't at a high ebb just right now. Especially those humans who reside in Mitcham.
There's a lot of waiting around, but no 'net access, so blogging and email reading will be occasional.
OK, so what's new, right?
Anyway, good luck to Steve at his new job which he started on Monday. Hope it's all going well for you, mate.
Sorry, I'm not going to be able to make Java London this evening. It's a mood thing rather than a time thing. I hope it all goes well, though, Jez. I'm still hoping to manage to get to London 2.0 on Monday.
I made a bit of a mistake dropping in to my local on the way home this evening for a swift half and to pick up email. There's a football match on, and there seems to be a fair amount of interest - the place is heaving.
Manchester United vs. Real Madrid. Anyone heard of either of these two?
No post yesterday, unlike some lucky so and sos. Trouble, she calls it. Sigh.
Anyway, Steve pointed out literary speed dating to me. Sounds much more my speed than Michael's suggestion. If only I was in Belgium. And it's not often you'll hear anyone say that.
Congratulations also to Katherine - another notice handed in today. Must be something in the air.
Worried, El P?
Chistmas shopping is Hell - except that even in Hell you don't have to queue up three times to buy one thing. Only in Argos do you have to do that.
Still, nearly done.
I've just replaced the fairy at the top of our Christmas Tree:
Oooh, Amy is going to give me such a slap when she spots that. I wonder how long I have?
Update: Homer has been interfered with. :-(
It never lasts, and it can prove fatal.
Me, cynical? Never.
You know, if someone had told me ten years ago that I'd one day send somone an album from my computer, by radio, to a phone, I would have thought they were barking mad.
Update: The transfer failed - El Presidente's phone crashed. Every silver lining has a cloud.
I can't tell you how glad I was to read this: Repetitive Information Injury. I thought it was just me!
NADD is something that I've learned to accept, to live with. The checking email, checking Bloglines, checking IM, checking IRC, straight back to email infinite loop, though, is more of a problem, and I though I was alone.
Bear in mind here that I'm writing this from the pub - I popped into the pub on the way home to catch up on my email.
What can I do, though? Before I die, I want to know everything. How else am I going to manage that?
(Via holygoat.)
The Biscuit Appreciation Society - proud to be affiliated with the British Lard Marketing Board. Class.
Colliers Wood's foremost Thursday night comedy club, Roar With Laughter, is back from Edinburgh. Well, actulally it was back two weeks ago, but I couldn't make it then. Anyway, Michael (the housewife's choice) and I will be there.
Err, well, actually, I've been right here. So, why no blogging? Thing is, I've been a bit busy, and the inclination to blog and the opportunity to blog don't seem to have coincided.
My good friend Jay has just been IMing me, nagging me about it. Given that he lives in Austin, Texas and has Hurricane Rita bearing down on him, he must consider a matter of import, so I'd better get on and post. Besides, El P is away this afternoon, so what's stopping me? (Other that the 600 arbitrary time units of work outstanding in the current Morph iteration, that is...).
So, what have I been up to? Well, the exciting news is that our new project, Project Morph, is finally under weigh in earnest, and we are going all agile. User stories, short(ish) iterations, YAGNI, SCRUMs, you name it. (Well, other than pair programming, that is. There are five of us, and two into five doesn't go...) I'll let you know how it goes, bit it's a bit early to tell...
What else? Oh yes, my presentation training the week before last. It wasn't half as bad as I thought it might be, and I certainly came out of it feeling better able to present to large groups that I did when I went in, but it's still well outside my comfort zone, and I'm going to need a lot of practice before I'm any good. Still, I'd like to give it a go. Any suggestions as to what I might present at Python UK 2006?
Roadkill is still a thing of beauty - I've not gone off it in any way. Command line stuff is really good once you are over some of the learning curve. There are a few Windows apps I miss, though - TortoiseSVN, SciTE, UltimateZip and Picasa for a start, and I miss Windows Explorer's right-button dragging. I'm not really sure that I have Python set up as I should, either. That's probably worth a post of its own. Oh, do check out Terminal Here.
What else? Oh yes, if you are in London, try and get along to either the Python meetup or the Java meetup next month. I'll be at both. See you there!
Anyway, I'm sure you'll all join me in wishing Jay the best of luck, and I'm off back to sprinting...
Arrrgh! El Presidente got the dates wrong! My presentation skills training is this week! Arrrgh! Arrrgh!
I have to prepare a presentation in advance on a non-technical topic. Any suggestions?
El Presidente is back from his two week holiday in Russia today. He's always in a shitty mood when he gets back from holiday, and he's got more to be irritated by than usual this time. (But it wasn't my idea, honestly, Paul! And I did get to the bottom of my to-do list while you were away. Nearly.)
Anyway, to try and cheer him up, we've brought in a whole load of sugary stuff - doughnuts, chocolate, and biscuits. We are hoping to either put a smile on his face or kill him with hyperglycemia.
We are also attempting to get a accurate measure of The Flury, the SI unit of carbohydrate, being defined as the quantity of sugary crap that El Presidente is capable of consuming in a single day. We've tried measuring this before, but no single one of us can carry that much in at once, so Tracey and I are working in concert this time.
Update: What's left as at 2:30 and is it any co-incidence that El P decided upon putting his desk next to the microwave? (He turned his head away to avoid being recognised - but there's no mistaking that shirt, is there?)
(Nerds; this is about single people, not about real Singletons.)
Bloody hell, as if it isn't hard enough, Zoe Williams over at the Graudiad is claiming that single people are selfish, and need to be given a hard time.
Fuck off, Zoe. I get given ehough of a a hard time about it already, thank you.
Via Wherever You Are.
I've often been interested to know who reads Small Values, and where you all are. My Sitemeter stats give me some idea, but not much. So, please add yourself to the Small Values Of Cool Readers map. Ta.
Update: Do zoom in a bit before placing yourself, or you might end up hundreds of miles from where you really live. ;-)
Via Look At This...
I was on holiday last week, visiting Mum in Newcastle. See us at the beach and at Bollam Lake. Thanks to Mum for the photos - I'll upload mine tomorrow.
I still have over 400 emails to read, and Bloglines had over 4000 new posts for me this morning. :-(
25 today. In hex.
Still using the same jokes, too. Ever felt you are in a rut?
Anyway, commiserate with me this evening in The Horse Bar if you fancy.
Update: I'm knocking this evening on the head. Even assuming that it's all as trivial as it currently appears to be (fingers crossed!), travel will
be a nightmare today.
Via Ulterior.
This is nearly as good as that Kylie ad.
So, Last Thursday. What a day.
I started out leaving home at about half past seven, as usual. There was a report of major problems with The Northern Line on the news. These reports are usually so out of date that it's worth having a go anyway, but in this case when I arrived at Colliers Wood, there was indeed absolutely no service South of Kennington. The bus stops looked like like the first day of the sales, so I walked to Wimbledon.
Had the Northern Line been running normally, I'd have been at work, safe in my office before anything happened.
From Wimbledon, I got an overground train to Waterloo. It was heaving, as expected, but quick. At Waterloo, I just missed one train as I got down to the Waterloo and City line platform, which would have taken me to Bank. The next one came in, but didn't open its doors. Then there was an announcement that "due to a power surge", the Waterloo and City line was suspended.
I had absolutely no inkling at this point that this was anything more than tube problems, albeit rather spectacular ones.
I walked across Hungerford Bridge - always a beautiful view - to Embankment, and got on a District line train to go round to Aldgate. The Train sat there for a good while, then started off. It got two stops, to Blackfriars, then came an announcement that the District Line was suspended. Again, this was put down to a power surge, but we were asked to leave the station, so someone knew that something was wrong.
Again, I still thought that it was just a particularly bad day for TfL at this point, so I started walking. It was around ten when I approached Aldgate. It was now that is started to occur to be that something serious was wrong. Aldgate was wall to wall fire engines, police cars, and ambulances.
Just then, I bumped into Trevor from work. He told me that there had been an explosion on the tube, that our office was behind the cordon and inaccessible, and the the police were advising everyone to just go home.
It took about twenty or thirty goes to get through, but I rang my parents to tell them that I was OK. They hadn't yet turned on the news, so they didn't know what was happening. I asked them to ring around and reassure everyone, since I didn't thank that I'd be able to get through. Then I, eventually, got through to work. It seemed that everyone was accounted for, except for Tulna, who was on a course, so I texted her. Then I walked to London Bridge to get a bus. The 133 would take me most of the way home.
As I was waiting at the bus stop, Dad called, and told me about the bus explosion. So I decided not to get the bus after all, and started walking.
In the underpass at Elephant and Castle, I bumped into Helen, a friend of my brother's, and Miranda, a friend of hers. They had walked from Tooting all the way up to Borough before realising what was going on, and were on their way back. They were a bit lost, so I confidently led us all out of the underpass and in completely the wrong direction.
A kind stranger put us right, and we were soon headed in the right direction, but we were all tired ant thirsty, so we stopped for a rest. Being British, we stopped at a pub, and I had the earliest pint that I've had in years. They had a telly on, and I began to realise just how bad the situation was.
There were reports of an incident at Stockwell, which was on our way, so we stayed put for a while.
We pushed on, but Helen needed to rest her blistered feet, so we stopped again at The Circle. We were there for an hour or so, avoiding the rain.
Busses were running this far out of London, but we decided not to risk them, and kept walking. We did feel a bit wimpy after about how short our last leg was, so we kept going a bit longer this time, but Helen was in too much pain to go on forever, so we stopped again at The Duke of Devonshire.
So, when my grandchildren say to me "Granddad, what did you do on the seventh of the seventh", I'll have to tell them that I went on a sort of bizarre pub crawl.
We waited at the Duke of Dev for a while for Miranda's boyfriend Martyn, and ate some bad food. We chatted for a while, then pushed on home.
I was seriously knackered when I got home. Still no answer from Tulna - at which point I realised that I'd texted her old number. Sigh. I rang her new number, and got straight through - she was fine. Worried for nothing.
I'm glad to see that at the end of the day the bombers have achieved nothing. They've killed a few people, yes, and inconvenienced many, but if they were hoping to intimidate us or change our attitudes, they failed - See London Will Fucking Twat You In A Minute, Son and Quotes of the Day. And let's face it, the death toll, though tragic, was less than a week's worth of UK road deaths.
I wonder if they realise that they've achieved nothing? Do they see it as a defeat, or a victory?
I've no time for a full account now, but I'm fine, in case anyone was worried. It was all much too close for comfort, but I was never very close to any danger on Thursday.
I made it in as far as just next to Aldgate Station, near by my my office, but I was turned back there. (Before that, I had been under the impression that there were just tube disruptions.) I rang home to tell my parents that I was OK, and to get them to spread the news. Dad told me that there had been an explosion on a bus as well as on the tube, so I walked home. I met up with a friend (and a friend of hers), which was nice, but she had blisters, and there was an alert at Stockwell, so it took a loooong time to get home.
As far as I can tell, no one I know was hurt either, fingers crossed.
More on Monday.
Tulna told me in the pub last night that she's on a mission to fix me up with a girlfriend. Sigh.
Don't worry, girls, it won't come to anything. People seem to get this notion from time to time; I've had it from my sister, from Steve, my brother, even from Michael. But in the end, they find that there isn't anyone that they'd be prepaired to put through the ordeal of going out with me.
There's a good article about single men over on the Grauniad today; Sex and the single weirdo. "The home-alone male is routinely assumed to be an oik or a loser", it says. "Men who live alone look after themselves less well, shop less confidently, have fewer friends, suffer more with depression and die younger than married or partnered men."
Shop less confidently? WTF does that mean? "I was going to buy those frozen peas, but I just couldn't work up the courage." And he missed out "drink more". Other than that, spot on. Well, I'm not dead yet, so I'm not sure about the last point, but he's probably right about that, too.
El Presidente is nagging me about organising some presentation skills training, following my last review. I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but I suppose it would be good for what I laughingly refer to as my career.
Hmmm. "Career: to hurtle downhill, out of control and at speed." Perhaps career is the right word after all.
Anyway, El P has suggested a Learning Tree course, but if anyone has any recommendations, I'd be glad to hear them. I'm not too keen on Learning Tree anyway, due to the truly ridiculous amount of junk mail they send out. Learning Stump, more like, given the paper they get through.
You have no idea how many emails and blog entries I had to read. Thousands, literally.
More later.
Err, that's it, really.
In this morning's Indy, an ad for Sainsbury's melons was followed immediately by an article about the Triumph Doreen. Coincidence? I think not.
And another non-coincidence - on Monday, I spotted over someone's sholder on the tube that Wonderwall has been voted the best ever British song. Just as I was thinking "bollocks it is", guess what came up on my iPod? Eh? Eh? It's bloody AI, that's what it is.
Less rubbish than usual online quiz. Here's mine:
 | You scored as Existentialist. Existentialism emphasizes human capability. There is no greater power interfering with life and thus it is up to us to make things happen. Sometimes considered a negative and depressing world view, your optimism towards human accomplishment is immense. Mankind is condemned to be free and must accept the responsibility.
What is Your World View? (updated) created with QuizFarm.com |
Somebody seems to have kidnapped all the ugly birds from South London, overnight, and replaced them with pretty ones. Always seems to happen at this time of year.
By the way, if you are thinking that this post isn't very enlightened, not very post-new-man, then don't worry. It's ironic, so that's OK. You can get away with anything as long as you are ironic.
El Presidente is away on holiday. We are all playing. Tulna's brought in her Barbies, Dan has his Action Man, Phil has a hoop and a stick, and Tracey is just burning stuff.
Congratulations to my brother Dan on passing his driving test. First time, no less!
What with my sister having passed a couple of years ago, that only leaves my Dad and I as non-drivers.
Not that I'm going to weaken. Cars are rubbish.
It's my company do this Saturday evening. We are all off to watch The Producers, followed by dinner and drinks at The Hilton, Park Lane.
The question is, what to wear? The invite requests "smart casual", but what does that mean? My idea of casual is far from smart...
I would ask Michael, but every time I go to him for fashion advice, he just puts his head in his hands, shakes his head and sighs.
Well, anyway, I think I'll just go for a suit. It's that or jeans; I don't own anything in between. I've only worn my suit once, at Tulna's wedding, so it will be nice to get some use out of it, and it will feel like dressing up. Notes to self; dry cleaning, and a new shirt and tie.
Any advice from any of my less fashion-blind readers would be appreciated. What kind of ties are people wearing this century?
Trains are better than cars. They just are.
I had a lovely weekend, on the whole, but travel-wise, everything I touched turned to dust.
On Saturday, I pitched up at Paddington on my way to Reading to pick up the girls, only to find that the line was closed. Much of the trip was by bus. :-( My usual two hour trip turned into a three and a half hour trek. (On the way back, I came via Clapham Junction, which was marginally faster.)
On Sunday, Michael, the girls and I drove down to Brighton in the A4 he's borrowed from his boss. (The verdict? A hairdressers car.) What a mistake. Google reckoned on a little over an hour for the trip, but we factored in the bank holiday, and doubled it. We weren't even close; it took us four and a quarter hours. Nightmare.
We had a really nice time once we were there, though - beach, picnic, paddling, pier, funfair, ice cream, you know the kind of thing. Half-naked women are always a bonus, too. The trip back was much easier - about two and a half hours.
On Monday, the girls and I left for Reading early. Cath wanted to take them to Mapledurham for a civil war reenactment, and there were still no trains out of Paddington. It turned out to be more of a skirmish than a battle. A brawl, even. Still, the girls were suitably impressed by the guns. Their new little brother Ruben wasn't so keen.
By the time I'd trekked back home again, I'd clocked up over eighteen hours in transit over the three day weekend. No wonder I'm so knackered.
Oh, and trains are better than cars 'cos even if they are horribly delayed, you can entertain your children and let them go to the loo, cutting down on the strop count considerably.
Anyway, pictures here.
Last night's Roar was a good one. Sol Bernstein was, frankly, a bit crap, but Paul Chowdry (a last minute stand in for Colin Cole) and Andrew Maxwell were both great. Two hits out of three isn't bad at all.
Bizarrely enough, Colliers Wood seems to be going through a strong patch at the moment comedy-wise - the incomparable John Hegley is doing a reading in Colliers Wood Library next Thursday.
Gallery here. It was too dark for video - thank Christ.
Last night was fun. My dancing was every bit as horrendous as expected; I elbowed Tulna hard in the head on one occasion, and I lost count of the toes that I trod on. The lessons started off easy enough, and I could follow the first few minutes. But they proceeded extremely quickly, and I was soon left behind. It was the spins that got me.
El Presidente baled out of the dancing very early. A poor show. I think we might go again. Perhaps if El P's better half comes along, she'll keep him on the dance floor.
My desk as of today:
Compare with this image from a couple of weeks ago. Note the new telly. There's a new PC under the desk, too - AMD Sempron 2.4 GHz, 1 GB of RAM, 80 GB disk. XP Pro, but you can't have everything, can you?
You can't say that you weren't warned.
(Click on the image to zoom.)
So, what does my desk say about me?
Mum came down on Tuesday night for a visit. She met up with Steve and I at The Alex, which was nice - they've been reading each other's blogs for ages. Steve was much as she expected, except that she "didn't expect him to be such a sweetie".
Well, that's a first. Steve being called a sweetie, that is - Mum calls people sweeties all the time.
Anyway, as usual, Steve and I sorted out all the world's problems over a few pints, with Mum's assistance this time. And as usual, some bugger screwed it all up again by morning.
Yesterday we had a day in town. We went to the Apple Store first. We got away with just an iPod remote each. A lucky escape - you could spend ten grand there and still have a wish list.
Then we went to The British Museum. Amazingly, Mum's never been before. As ever, you can only see a tiny fraction on any one visit, so we concentrated on the Asian section. If you've ever visited Mum's blog, you can't help but have noticed that she has more than a passing interest in Buddhism.
Oh, yes, and I got a lovely early birthday present - a Sony DSC-P72. So expect to be bored rigid by loads of bad photos, and flickr and/or picasa related posts. ;-)
Surprisingly enough, my last review wasn't allowed to stand, so I had another one today. I didn't come out of this one quite so well. ;-)
They aren't going to sack me. Too much paperwork, apparently.
It wasn't too bad, though. I was brought up on my admin, as I was expecting. They are keen on the fact that I try too keep the company up to date, but I need to work a lot harder to getting buy-in from the team, too.
I'll be getting a new PC ;-) But not a Mac. :-(
There might be - shudder - public speaking training coming up too...
I've just been accused of looking like a geography teacher.
But what gets me is who is criticising me. If it was just the clothes horses, I wouldn't mind, but no - this was from a man wearing a black shirt and a Hong Kong Phooey tie.
My Mum and my sister have really taken my holiday problem to heart, and have organised a whole bunch of stuff for me to do. So much, in fact, that for the first time in several years, I've actually had to go and buy a diary to remember it all. I've just send off a holiday request for 18 days to El Presidente.
BTW, mum is coming down to visit soon. I'm meeting Mum and Steve for a beer on the 29th. They've not met in meatspace before. All welcome...
(This has the additional advantage of getting me out of Salsa yet again. That's now postponed to April the 12th.)
My entire team is malingering off sick today. Every single one of them. (OK, with the exception of Tulna, who's off on holiday.)
That means I'm in charge. I've already raised the purchase order for a speced-up 15" PowerBook, and I'm doing my review this afternoon. I think I might come out of it rather well.
I have no idea what it is that they all do together to spread the bug, by the way, but clearly I'm being left out of it.
Update: I've done the review. It turns out that I'm an exemplary employee, with virtually no faults, save for a tendency for over-modesty. A promotion and a very large pay rise are in order.
Doughnut jam and keyboards - not a good combination.
Not of course that there's any problem at all with my keyboard. Oh no. But Tulna's off on holiday this week, and I suppose there's always the outside chance that her keyboard (which is co-incidentally identical to mine) may be a little on the sticky side when she gets back...
Yet another meme.
"Copy the list on to your blog, put in bold the ones you have listened to (completely from begining to end) and then add three more albums that you think people should have heard."
Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles
London Calling - The Clash
Blood Sugar Sex Magik - Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Think Tank - Blur
This is Hardcore - Pulp
Moon Safari - Air
Elastica - Elastica
Never Mind the Bollocks Here's the Sex Pistols - Sex Pistols
OK Computer - Radiohead
The Kiss of Morning - Graham Coxon
Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars - David Bowie
The Wall - Pink Floyd
Setting Sons - The Jam
America Beauty - The Grateful Dead
Toxicity - System of a Down
Train a Comin' - Steve Earle
Folksinger - Phranc
Come From the Shadows - Joan Baez
Bat out of Hell - Meatloaf
The River - Bruce Springsteen
The Very Best of Joan Armatrading - Joan Armatrading
Copperhead Road - Steve Earle
Dark Side of the Moon - Pink Floyd
Brothers In Arms - Dire Straits
Outside - David Bowie
Passionoia - Black Box Recorder
Version 2.0 - Garbage
Too Young To Die (Greatest Hits) - St. Etienne
My three:
The Complete Recordings - Robert Johnson
Absolution - Muse
Kind of Blue - Miles Davis
Via badly dubbed boy.
In answer to you, Katherine:
When you believe in things,
That you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain’t the way.
OK, OK, that's a crap answer. The real answer, so far as I can see, is that people like to think they understand the world around them. Science doesn't (and doesn't claim to) answer all questions, and understanding many of Science's answers is hard work. Both of these things make people uncomfortable.
Superstition offers easy answers. It's all bollocks, but it's easy. That's what people want.
The holiday problem has been alleviated to an extent. By special dispensation I've been allowed to carry over ten days instead of the usual five, and I'm taking a couple of days off this week. (It's the girls' half-term.) So, I'll only be losing five days - that's my best yet!
Still, I'm probably only postponing the issue. I'll probably find myself with thirty days to use up next February.
I've asked around, but I can't work out who hid all my cards today. Ok, a joke's a joke, but it's own-up time. Who was it, and where have you hidden them all?
I didn't have the girls for a change this weekend, so I had a grown-up Saturday with Michael, wandering around the West End. Michael had a pre-arranged appointment to have his hair cut, so I went along. The whole thing was a bit of an experience for me. He went to The Refinery. £48 for a hair cut! (I've never paid more than £5 myself.) And that's at the cheap end of things. An Ionithermie Body Treatment is £110. (Whatever that is.) Top of the range - an 'Overall Overhaul', £250!
Michael, you understand, is a real metrosexual. He was metrosexual before there were any metrosexuals. He has tens of pairs of shoes, and he colour co-ordinates. I, on the other hand, am very unreconstructed in the fashion sense. I shave my own head, I only need to own one pair of shoes and one pair of boots at any given time, and if I colour co-ordinate it's only because I only own clothes of one colour. Typical nerd, in other words.
Still, I'm sure that it's all worthwhile for him. He was, after all, voted the fittest bloke in IT at St Andrew's last Christmas.
I didn't actually go in myself. If it ain't broke...
Update: Paul M reminded me of the term 'retrosexual'. I suppose that it kind of applies to me - though I've never referred to myself as a 'real man', and I don't get the opportunity to reject casual sex all that often.
The security guard at our front desk smells. I mean, he smells bad.
He's nothing to do with our company - he comes with the building. He's been around for about six months now. You've often caught a faint whiff of BO as you've walked past him, but it's never been troubling - you've just considered yourself lucky not to have found yourself next to him on the tube. But over the last couple of weeks, it's become an order of magnitude worse. It's no longer just BO - now he smells rank - like something has died. And it's not just a whiff any more, either; you can smell him all the way up the stairs.
Tracey keeps threatening to leave a bar of soap on his desk. When he's not there, that is, naturally.
I have no idea why I'm posting this, really. It just had to be said.
I've just found out that I have to take 17 days off before the end of the month. Ooops - I really need to be a bit more organised about this kind of thing, don't I?
It's not quite that bad, actually. I can carry over five days, so I only need to take 12. There's no way I'm missing the team meal tomorrow, though, even if it isn't at Honkers.
I had the pleasure of bumping into Mrs. and Master Neveratoss on Saturday at the Clapham Picture House. A bit of a surprise, since they live in Haslemere, but it's a small world, after all. Poor old Sam was a little out of sorts, but it was nice to see them both nevertheless.
This evening I'll be meeting Mr Neveratoss at The Horse Bar for, as he put it, "half an hour geeking out, then the usual looking at birds and talking nonsense". He's got a Java program that he's got some issues with, and I've got a new war-story. Anyone who thinks that they can put up with that lot are more than welcome to pitch up.
"I can tell you from personal experience that Pierce Brosnan isn't gay." - Tulna Shah Chauhan.
Don't tell Rakesh!
Steve doesn't want to be a carpenter any more. Now he wants to be a brewer.
I'm worried that he'll drink all the profits. I'm even more worried that I might help him. What do you think?
Salsa update: I'm safe for the next couple of weeks, but after that, I've run out of excuses. There's no escape. :-(
El Presidente to Pete, one of our directors. A career limiting move, perhaps? Anyway, at least we know how he expects us to refer to our managment in future.
Someone brought in a box of Twinkies today, for some reason. I've never had the opportunity to try one of these American cultural icons before.
It was bloody horrible.
I can only apologise for that appallingly self indulgent and whiny post on New Year's Eve. I wasn't feeling too good, but there was no need to inflict that on you lot.
Sorry. It won't happen again.
I won't be going out this evening. I feel terrible.
I've not been sleeping well since before Christmas. I've got a painful swelling on my elbow, and it keep waking me up at night when I roll onto it. So I went to the drop-in centre at St George's on Tuesday, and they told me that I had bursitis.
The arm is feeling much better now - though whether that's because it actually is or whether it's just that the anti-inflammatory that they gave me is also a painkiller, I don't know.
Problem is that the drop-in centre was full of sick people, so I caught some nasty lurgy. I was coughing all night last night. :-(
Anyway, a happy new year to all of you.
OK, well, not all. I hope that whoever broke into mum's car and stole all her presents has a miserable christmas - ideally in a cell somewhere. Bastards.
But a very Happy Christmas to all you lot who are reading this.
Speaking of dancing, I seem to have made a drunken promise to Michael to go Salsa dancing. He's on the pull, you see, and he reckons that a salsa class would be a target rich environment. He might even be right, though one look at my dancing would put off even the most desperate of single women.
I'll try and weasel out of it, naturally, but a promise is a promise, and if he holds me to it, I'll have to go. Perhaps I'll get an amusing story out of it. I'm always happy to give everyone a good laugh at my expense.
Nose piercing-mounted eyeglasses. Yuck.
Tulna said that this makes her want to punch him and break his glasses. Which makes her a pretty bad Jain, I'd say.
Update: When she noticed that I posted this, she threatened to punch me, too. Ahimsa, Tulna, Ahimsa.
Rate how much your beliefs fit in with those of major religions - Belief-O-Matic.
I came out as:
1. Unitarian Universalism (100%)
2. Secular Humanism (95%)
3. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (87%)
4. Liberal Quakers (86%)
5. Nontheist (72%)
6. Theravada Buddhism (70%)
7. Neo-Pagan (66%)
8. Bahá'í Faith (64%)
9. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (56%)
10. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (52%)
11. Taoism (50%)
12. New Age (48%)
13. Reform Judaism (48%)
14. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (40%)
15. New Thought (40%)
16. Orthodox Quaker (38%)
17. Mahayana Buddhism (35%)
18. Sikhism (35%)
19. Jehovah's Witness (33%)
20. Scientology (33%)
21. Jainism (22%)
22. Eastern Orthodox (20%)
23. Islam (20%)
24. Orthodox Judaism (20%)
25. Roman Catholic (20%)
26. Seventh Day Adventist (17%)
27. Hinduism (12%)
I'm not sure about the 87% Christian bit...
Right, that's it, I'm taking a sickie tomorrow.
Listening. Yup, that's me alright. ;-)
Behind the Name: the etymology and history of first names. Great site, via lonita.
This wooden PC is lovely to look at, but:
this winter
I hope you get a splinter
if you make a toboggan
and it is a mahog'un
That's two bloody nights in a row that I've been woken up by the rain at four in the morning. Waking in the middle of the night is no problem, but if I wake at four, that's it, I'm awake. Until five minutes before the alarm goes off, that is, naturally.
I'm knackered.
It's been quiet around here. I was on holiday the week before last, and I was run of my feet last week. Still am, in fact, but my collection of links on del.icio.us is getting too big to ignore...
(BTW, check out my mum's my mum's del.icio.us. I introduced her to Firefox and del.icio.us when I was up there on holiday, and now she's hooked.)
I went out on the lash with Rachel, my sister and my mum.
It certainly wasn't like drinking with blokes, I must say. It took my sister five minutes to decide which wine she wanted; I'd usually have been on the second round by the time we actually ordered. Then, we sat down and had a conversation about curtains.
Congratulations to my ex Cath, and to Dan, her husband - they had a healthy baby boy at six this morning.
They had been told that it was a girl, so they have a pink bedroom and lots of little dresses. But Dan at least will be over the moon anyway - he was desperate for a boy to take to Highgate. Cath'll be pleased too, 'cos he won't be nagging her her for anther baby now!
Freja is deligted. Ella's got mixed feelings - she isn't the baby any more, and besides, she wanted a little sister. Still, I know she'll warm to the idea when she sees her new little brother. Which won't be until the weekend, 'cos we are in Newcastle for the rest of the week.
Update: The baby was 3 kilos (6 pounds 10 ounces in old money), born after a one hour labour, and is called Reuben. (Or is that Ruben?) Cath and Reuben ar now at home, and both are well.
Well, up north, at any rate.
We all went up to Whitehouse Farm yesterday. I really can't recommend it enough. Large animals to feed, as much handling of small animls as you can, um, handle, tractor rides, a picnic, a big slide, it's all a small girl could ask for. Or four small girls, in our case. Photos to follow. Lots of photos. I've got my SLR back from my ex, so I've been getting to know it again. Fun!
We went to Grossology today at the Life Center. Nice, if small. I suppose that I'm spoiled by havng all the London museums on my doorstep - especially the wonderful Science Museum.
I had a night out on the tiles with Mark last night. Classy place, Newcastle; Kiss was holding an amateur pole-dancing night. Nice.
I'm on holiday next week. I'll be taking the girls up to visit their Gran in Newcastle.
I'd better take a jumper. And something waterproof.
They are selling my old house. I lived there from the age of around six intill I was 19. Bedroom 2 was mine. They still have the washing line in which I cut my arm in the garden - I've got a scar from that.
Good Lord, how self indulgent is this post?
WordCount: "WordCount™ is an artistic experiment in the way we use language. It presents the 86,800 most frequently used English words, ranked in order of commonality. Each word is scaled to reflect its frequency relative to the words that precede and follow it, giving a visual barometer of relevance. The larger the word, the more we use it. The smaller the word, the more uncommon it is." Via gfdc.
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me-ee,
Happy birthday to me!
24 today. In hex.
If you were thinking of a late gift, I wouldn't be averse to a PowerBook. An iPod would be nice, too. ;-)
Fascinating; The Ism Book, A Field Guide to the Nomenclature of Philosophy.
Via lonita.
Also; Prefix/Suffix Meanings.
I love tube maps. I wonder why? Anyway, via qwghlmBlog I've found some great new ones, including the Obscene Tube Map and the Upside Down Map. Marvellous.
Now we only have to wait for Henman to get knocked out of Wimbledon, and sport will be back on the back pages where it belongs.
I mean, current affairs doesn't push sport off the back page when something important happens, so why does sport get the front page after a big match?
Mutter mutter.
Walking home from work through The City at sixish last night, and on the Tube home, it was bloody quiet. It was like being in 28 Days Later. Was somthing happening?
Right, I'm off down the pub.
Some chap had his finger bitten off by a jaguar after sticking his hand into its cage - and the zoo banned him for life.
Why ban him? I suspect you'll find he's learned his lesson.
Via Boing Boing.
It's only May, and already it's too hot.
Still, this seems to induce young ladies to wear less clothing, so it's not all bad.
I seem to have forgotten my mother's birthday. :-(
Happy Birthday, Mum!
It wasn't until she rang me up to say hello that I remembered. Not good.
In my defence, my ancient Clié s300 has died, so I probably wouldn't know it if it were my birthday. Still, a bit of a poor show, I'm sure you'll agree.
Time for a new one, when I can afford it.
A couple of interesting articles: Would the real source of metadata please stand up? and Games as Litrachur.
They aren't really about the same thing at all, but both touch on classification, so I'll classify them together. ;-)
Via Sean McGrath.
I've got nothing on this guy.
Me, I'm well aware of the fact that the problem is on my side. It's not that all women are bitches, it's just that all the women I fancy are bitches.
Sadly, this self awareness doesn't really help. I've got the hang of avoiding the psycho-witches-from-hell, but you can't make yourself fancy poeple just 'cos you think you ought to.
Not that I actually meet any women these days. Working in IT for a company specialising in Insurance software, and having no trace of a personal life, I might as well be a monk. :-(
Well, enough of this whinging; I'm off to the pub. Beer good.
Last night was a good one; Steve, Andy, Michael and Mark all made it, much beer was drunk, and many World issues were resolved.
(We've decided that we don't want ID cards, so you can just stop now, Mr Blunkett sir.)
So, anyway, I'm now hoping that I recover from my hangover in time to give myself another one.
As I write, Guns 'n Roses are blearing out of the rather nice speakers scattered around the office. Directly opposite my desk is a large Kylie poster.
All this has at least one unforseen benefit - I'm entering test data at the moment, and thinking up band names isn't presenting a problem.
I'm just off for a traditional St. Patrick's day curry. ;-)
I hate buying new shoes.
I had, generally, a nice weekend. Pottered around the V&A on Saturday, vegged around the flat reading and listening to music on Sunday. But on Saturday (dum-dum-dum) I bought new shoes. Or boots really. Whatever.
Worse, I wasn't on my own. Usually, I'm pretty much a bungee-shopper; dive into the shop, grab something which isn't actually offensive, buy it, and out. If I try them on to make sure that they fit, that's dawdling. But this time, I had Michael and Caroline with me, and they wanted me to browse. Shudder.
Now, Michael's my oldest friend. Though he's the quintessential metrosexual, he knows me better than anybody. He accepts me for the retrosexual (AKA slob) that I am, and keeps his contempt for my fashion sense to himself. Caroline, his sister, wasn't quite able to hide her disgust, though.
All this, and my new shoes hurt like hell. Sigh.
I just got this photo from El Presidente - thanks, Paul! This was taken at Tulna's wedding late last year.
It was quite a bash, as you can see:
I was really pleased when Kevan got in touch yesterday. There are very few people from school that I'd really like to get in touch with again, and he's one of them.
But there's at least two other people I'd really like to get in touch with: Tom Doran and Alex Bernard.
Hmm, well, I can't find any trace of Tom, but Alex has a website. Time for an email, I think...
Michael Starke I've kept in touch with throughout.
Via Rogue Semiotics, I find a nice addition to my already pretty extensive set of cool Underground maps: subway systems of the world, presented on the same scale.
I would have expected London to be bigger...
When I was at High School, rather more years ago than I'd care to remember, I did an A Level in Computer Science. Proto-nerd that I was, I also used to hang around the computer room a fair amount in my free time, coding up simple text adventure games. My major co-conspiritor in this was one Kevan Thurstans, and he's just got in touch with me via Friends Reunited.
Hi, Kev!
The weekend before last:
Dramatis persona:
Mark: my brother-in-law.
Me: Errrr, me.
Laura: My niece, Mark's daughter.
Dad: My Father.
Daniel: My brother.
Neil: A friend.
Rachel B: My sister.
Ellen: Neil's youngest.
Freja: My oldest.
Lucy: My niece, Rachel & Mark's youngest.
Ella: My youngest.
Rachel C: Neil's oldest.
Isobel: My niece, Rachel & Mark's oldest.
One for the family, there. ;-)
We seem to have trouble with this. We just spend some time in a meeting discussing whether a certain white-board pen was green or blue.
It was blue, goddamn it!
Was there a postal strike over the weekend? I didn't get any cards on Saturday...
Eeeek! It's Friday the 13th! Nothing untoward has happened so far, but it's early days yet...
Besides, the true horror will be the utter lack of cards tomorrow. A friend of mine is going to a singles' party tomorrow night, but I think I'd find that too depressing for the retention of sanity.
This time, I'm waiting for Freja and Ella to arrive. They'll be here in ten minutes or so. The Centrino/Toshiba stand is still here, so I thought I'd have a little blog.
Cool little notebooks; but not as cool as Andy's iBook!
Steve, Andy, Michael and I will be meeting up for beer, curry and conversation at The Tup, Balham on Friday evening. All welcome.
I'll be suggesting The Lahore Karahi in Tooting for the curry.
Fitzrovia? Never heard of it!
But never mind that. I'm meeting Steve, Andy, Kelvin and possibly others this evening at The Bricklayers Arms, Fitzrovia (near Tottenham Court Road tube). All welcome.
Freja and I are at Paddington Station, and we're just about to get on the train. I'm blogging from the Intel Centrino stand, 'cos Freja wanted to see how I create my site.
These notebooks are pretty cool - shame I can't afford one!
Create your own visited country map.
Via bouncy.
Update: Phil will take some beating with this very impressive effort:
But then, he was an airline pilot!
There was, I gather, a program about the Atkins diet on the idiot box last night. It seems that the reason that the Atkins diet works is