This has to be the fifth time I've opened up the new-post page, previously to no effect. My problem is that most of my writing inspiration comes in the minutes between laying my head on my pillow and sleep coming (be it 2 minutes or 150, depending on work's craziness-quotient...)
In fact thinking back I honestly can't think of the ideas I'd had - other than the one about mis-timed inspiration. A subject which, it's fair to say, I've now exhausted.
On the occasions when covertly leading a mini-revolution at work (much as you can hold a revolution over University IT) doesn't occupy my mind, TV holds more of a sway over me than I'd like to admit. Why did I ever give up climbing? Must get into that again.
Well that just prompted a 1/4hr interweb safari looking at climbing centres. That's the one thing I miss from Oxford - an easily accessible climbing centre. And affordable, apparently - the closest in Guildford is extortionate! Though mostly I can't believe there isn't one in Reading. Another happy sleep-thought is the idea of winning the lottery (you'd be surprised - or not - how many thoughts start like that) and setting one up.
Assuming I'm allowed of course.
Where was I? TV. The final (maybe) series of Scrubs is great fun and is entering it's closing stages. And BSG finishes tomorrow. In the States, at least. We'll see what the weekend brings - odds are, based on previous experience with US shows, it won't bring a total feeling of resolution... And next week The Apprentice. Bumdebumdebumdebumdebumdebumdebum-bum...
But first, alas, I must go do the washing up :(
You know, sometimes it's worth it - taking all the pies in the face. Sometimes you come through it feeling good. And sometimes you just stand there, hip-deep in pie.
Showing posts with label ramble. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ramble. Show all posts
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Thursday, 26 February 2009
Labels
The power of wine compels you! The power of wine compels you!
Not that I'm keen on this blog being filled with alcohol fuelled rambles, it just kind of happens that way. The problem is that unlike Wifey, who has all kinds of clever things to write about (like how she planted lots of herbs and now doesn't know what's what!), my motivation is much more along the lines of 'well lets have a dabble'.
Wifey is a writer already (by virtue of being in communications and not liking phones) and keen to do more in publishing. I, on the other hand, have this vague idea of being a writer someday and rarely have the motivation to act on it. In fact I can't help thinking, on my less inspired days, that my best chance of getting rich through writing would be to mug JK Rowling.
Hmmm, the Blogger New Post widget features some suggestions for post labels. Specifically 'scooters, holidays, autumn'. Am I supposed be writing about these? Not sure how I feel about this post turning into a literary version of 'Who's line is it anyway'. Any suggestions from the audience?
I used to have a scooter, actually. A Honda Vision (much like this one, but without the green stuff growing through it) with a stonking 49cc of raw power which carried me to and from work when I did my placement year, raging up hills at a brisk 20mph and screaming down hills at terrifying 32mph (with tail wind). It saw me through that year quite well, supping a mere £2 of petrol a week, but sadly succumbed to teenage vandals (*waves walking stick around like an old man etc*) not long after we moved back to Oxford. There then followed a sad tale of greedy vehicle recovery companies, rubbish policing and personal apathy. But that has nothing to do with holidays or autumn, so we'll skip that.
Holidays are great. What, you want more than that? Hmph. Technically I'm on holiday today, something more easily enforced than usual because my phone has decided it doesn't want to pick up my work email any more. This isn't the relief I'd originally thought it would be - it just makes me tense (though that's probably more because I know if it doesn't fix itself I'll have to endure a painful phone conversation with a guy who's got an Indian University IT degree and a mail-order English 'diplomia').
Along with Spring, Autumn is one of those annoying in-between-y seasons in my mind - not one thing, not another, but a transition between the other two. That's probably all I have to say on the subject, but once again I can see from the look on your face that you want more. Yes, I can see you through the computer. Which reminds me of the crazy german lady at my last job who was convinced we spent all of our time reading her emails, even though none of us could read German...
Autumn feels like a long time ago now, as does when I started writing this post. So I'll stop.
Not that I'm keen on this blog being filled with alcohol fuelled rambles, it just kind of happens that way. The problem is that unlike Wifey, who has all kinds of clever things to write about (like how she planted lots of herbs and now doesn't know what's what!), my motivation is much more along the lines of 'well lets have a dabble'.
Wifey is a writer already (by virtue of being in communications and not liking phones) and keen to do more in publishing. I, on the other hand, have this vague idea of being a writer someday and rarely have the motivation to act on it. In fact I can't help thinking, on my less inspired days, that my best chance of getting rich through writing would be to mug JK Rowling.
Hmmm, the Blogger New Post widget features some suggestions for post labels. Specifically 'scooters, holidays, autumn'. Am I supposed be writing about these? Not sure how I feel about this post turning into a literary version of 'Who's line is it anyway'. Any suggestions from the audience?
I used to have a scooter, actually. A Honda Vision (much like this one, but without the green stuff growing through it) with a stonking 49cc of raw power which carried me to and from work when I did my placement year, raging up hills at a brisk 20mph and screaming down hills at terrifying 32mph (with tail wind). It saw me through that year quite well, supping a mere £2 of petrol a week, but sadly succumbed to teenage vandals (*waves walking stick around like an old man etc*) not long after we moved back to Oxford. There then followed a sad tale of greedy vehicle recovery companies, rubbish policing and personal apathy. But that has nothing to do with holidays or autumn, so we'll skip that.
Holidays are great. What, you want more than that? Hmph. Technically I'm on holiday today, something more easily enforced than usual because my phone has decided it doesn't want to pick up my work email any more. This isn't the relief I'd originally thought it would be - it just makes me tense (though that's probably more because I know if it doesn't fix itself I'll have to endure a painful phone conversation with a guy who's got an Indian University IT degree and a mail-order English 'diplomia').
Along with Spring, Autumn is one of those annoying in-between-y seasons in my mind - not one thing, not another, but a transition between the other two. That's probably all I have to say on the subject, but once again I can see from the look on your face that you want more. Yes, I can see you through the computer. Which reminds me of the crazy german lady at my last job who was convinced we spent all of our time reading her emails, even though none of us could read German...
Autumn feels like a long time ago now, as does when I started writing this post. So I'll stop.
Monday, 23 February 2009
Slumdog Trillionaire
Ah booze. The blogger's best friend (especially the angsty emo teens, where would they be without cheap cider?) and literature's worst nightmare.
I've just sat through Robert Peston on the beeb being excited, nay orgasmic, over the apparent 1.3trillion (that's 13 and... well a lot of zeros) you and I have promised to the banks. And then almost fainting with glee at a letter about the Royal Mail's pension fund being billions short. A squee moment to be sure, particularly when like Peston you know that while the credit crunch may cost millions of jobs in the UK, yours will be last to go, because we all need someone with strange mannerisms, suspicious looking hair and David Tennant eyes to use fancy graphics to tell us all about it.
Fantastic - a story about Slumdog Millionaire showing them filming a scene on a skateboard. Genius.
Can't believe I'm almost liveblogging the BBC News here - an activity made pretty much art by Anna Pickard at The Guardian's Organgrinder. I'll spare you the more depressing stories. That said, in a bizarre twist I've turned over to ITV to find a Meridian Tonight interview with Gordon Brown conducted by Fred Dinenage (on a train, at that), who I'm convinced was on quiz show 'Call My Bluff'. One can only hope that the full interview ends with a statement about Labour staying in power and Dinenage revealing a card that says "bluff"...
And Simon Parkin (of broom cupboard fame) doing the weather of all things! I guess sometimes you can't be picky about the work you do. This credit crunch is really biting, isn't it?
I've just sat through Robert Peston on the beeb being excited, nay orgasmic, over the apparent 1.3trillion (that's 13 and... well a lot of zeros) you and I have promised to the banks. And then almost fainting with glee at a letter about the Royal Mail's pension fund being billions short. A squee moment to be sure, particularly when like Peston you know that while the credit crunch may cost millions of jobs in the UK, yours will be last to go, because we all need someone with strange mannerisms, suspicious looking hair and David Tennant eyes to use fancy graphics to tell us all about it.
Fantastic - a story about Slumdog Millionaire showing them filming a scene on a skateboard. Genius.
Can't believe I'm almost liveblogging the BBC News here - an activity made pretty much art by Anna Pickard at The Guardian's Organgrinder. I'll spare you the more depressing stories. That said, in a bizarre twist I've turned over to ITV to find a Meridian Tonight interview with Gordon Brown conducted by Fred Dinenage (on a train, at that), who I'm convinced was on quiz show 'Call My Bluff'. One can only hope that the full interview ends with a statement about Labour staying in power and Dinenage revealing a card that says "bluff"...
And Simon Parkin (of broom cupboard fame) doing the weather of all things! I guess sometimes you can't be picky about the work you do. This credit crunch is really biting, isn't it?
Sunday, 22 February 2009
Interesting stuff
It's awards season folks. And the winner for the best blogspot profile interest goes to... Soulwinning!
I'm poking my way through Blogspot's arcane blog-finding-tools (which seem to be undocumented, making it a system worthy of my office) and finding that, as I often do when doing that kind of thing, I'm taken with a strong urge to bolt all the doors and windows and never have any contact with any new people ever again. Especially Americans. The sheer number of American profiles with pictures that feature guns is terrifying. As for all the pictures of naked (male, alas) chests... Ugh. Surely some of them must see the sun?
Of course half the planet claims to be interested in photography. Much like I now claim - I like looking at pictures of things. Particularly as it removes the need to, you know, read words.
So I'm actually looking to set up some stuff to read through this blogging lark. I'm not foolish enough to think my ramblings will contribute much to anyone else's life (other than explaining to wifey what all the tapping is about upstairs), but dammit I want to get something out of this, even if all the other authors will get from the relationship (should they dare look) will be information about rare swans and not, as they might be hoping, words of wisdom about Leadership or, heaven forbid, Service Level Management (hint - have a service first, then manage it's level - this means you, University of Surrey).
I like wine and whisky. Seems like a good place to start. I'd love to read reviews of whiskys, or thoughts about wine regions. Something intelligent. Sadly the list of people who also like wine is growing at such a rate my picture appears on every page and to get my fix of whisky-wisdom will also mean sitting through essays on ex-husbands, annoying school friends and rare black swans. And that's before I address the whisky/whiskey issue.
I'll leave the smallholding stuff to wifey, but I have professional interests too (at least during office hours). Operating System Snobbery aside, I use Microsoft Windows a lot. It's a pretty pervasive thing so it's a bit of a disapointment to be sharing the interest with a cat and a 14yo spaniard. Although I'm man enough to admit that sometimes that cat will probably have more success than me in dealing with it.
What can we learn from this? There's the temptation to mock Blogspot. In fact, as it's a Google operation some would insist the mockery is mandatory. Personally though I'm of the opinion you should never be mean about an organisation who knows what you were searching for the last time you were drunk and sat in front of a computer...
Hmmm, I'm approaching my word limit (i.e. my fingers and brain are getting tired). Sadly, after all of this, it seems the world is dramatically lacking in the sanest people of all. My search continues...
I'm poking my way through Blogspot's arcane blog-finding-tools (which seem to be undocumented, making it a system worthy of my office) and finding that, as I often do when doing that kind of thing, I'm taken with a strong urge to bolt all the doors and windows and never have any contact with any new people ever again. Especially Americans. The sheer number of American profiles with pictures that feature guns is terrifying. As for all the pictures of naked (male, alas) chests... Ugh. Surely some of them must see the sun?
Of course half the planet claims to be interested in photography. Much like I now claim - I like looking at pictures of things. Particularly as it removes the need to, you know, read words.
So I'm actually looking to set up some stuff to read through this blogging lark. I'm not foolish enough to think my ramblings will contribute much to anyone else's life (other than explaining to wifey what all the tapping is about upstairs), but dammit I want to get something out of this, even if all the other authors will get from the relationship (should they dare look) will be information about rare swans and not, as they might be hoping, words of wisdom about Leadership or, heaven forbid, Service Level Management (hint - have a service first, then manage it's level - this means you, University of Surrey).
I like wine and whisky. Seems like a good place to start. I'd love to read reviews of whiskys, or thoughts about wine regions. Something intelligent. Sadly the list of people who also like wine is growing at such a rate my picture appears on every page and to get my fix of whisky-wisdom will also mean sitting through essays on ex-husbands, annoying school friends and rare black swans. And that's before I address the whisky/whiskey issue.
I'll leave the smallholding stuff to wifey, but I have professional interests too (at least during office hours). Operating System Snobbery aside, I use Microsoft Windows a lot. It's a pretty pervasive thing so it's a bit of a disapointment to be sharing the interest with a cat and a 14yo spaniard. Although I'm man enough to admit that sometimes that cat will probably have more success than me in dealing with it.
What can we learn from this? There's the temptation to mock Blogspot. In fact, as it's a Google operation some would insist the mockery is mandatory. Personally though I'm of the opinion you should never be mean about an organisation who knows what you were searching for the last time you were drunk and sat in front of a computer...
Hmmm, I'm approaching my word limit (i.e. my fingers and brain are getting tired). Sadly, after all of this, it seems the world is dramatically lacking in the sanest people of all. My search continues...
Saturday, 21 February 2009
The best question of all
"Why?" is an excellent question. The best question of all.
Why? I hear you ask? An excellent question. It offers insights other questions just can't provide. "What?" is focused on things. "How?" is interested in the mechanics. But "Why?" offers the chance to explain the things beneath the How and the What.
Why do people kill and rape?
Why am I writing this when I should be going to bed?
Why are random traffic cop shows so compelling (even when you know they're ridiculous)?
Why are people losing their jobs?
Why can't they play something other than Take That on the radio?
Why did the chicken cross the road? *
Why do we crave the things we crave?
Why is that thing done that way?
Why?
Now if only the answers were as good as the questions...
* to get to the other side, obviously.
Why? I hear you ask? An excellent question. It offers insights other questions just can't provide. "What?" is focused on things. "How?" is interested in the mechanics. But "Why?" offers the chance to explain the things beneath the How and the What.
Why do people kill and rape?
Why am I writing this when I should be going to bed?
Why are random traffic cop shows so compelling (even when you know they're ridiculous)?
Why are people losing their jobs?
Why can't they play something other than Take That on the radio?
Why did the chicken cross the road? *
Why do we crave the things we crave?
Why is that thing done that way?
Why?
Now if only the answers were as good as the questions...
* to get to the other side, obviously.
Merchandise
Hey, I can follow my own blog. How self-loving is that? Perhaps I'll un-follow myself, lest I end up blogging around in circles.
Welcome (wifey), to my first dalliance with blogging for many a year. Let's hope this thing has a spell checker.
A random discovery - as if Google didn't already have a license to print money through their increasingly opaque search algorithm, it seems Google has joined the trend already helped out by tat-mongers like Cafepress and sells it's own Google branded merchandise. Fantastic looking stuff. Especially the kids stuff. And the lip balm. And the bike speakers (lucky they're stereo, I hate listening to music in mono when I'm weaving through noisy traffic).
Coming soon - ttsud branded hand drills, traffic cones, thermometers, wardrobes and denim-covered pencils. No, wait, those are real...
Welcome (wifey), to my first dalliance with blogging for many a year. Let's hope this thing has a spell checker.
A random discovery - as if Google didn't already have a license to print money through their increasingly opaque search algorithm, it seems Google has joined the trend already helped out by tat-mongers like Cafepress and sells it's own Google branded merchandise. Fantastic looking stuff. Especially the kids stuff. And the lip balm. And the bike speakers (lucky they're stereo, I hate listening to music in mono when I'm weaving through noisy traffic).
Coming soon - ttsud branded hand drills, traffic cones, thermometers, wardrobes and denim-covered pencils. No, wait, those are real...
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